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stopeatingwhales · 3 years

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the 1995 brits x damon albarn & liam gallagher

hhhiiii I'm here with a very cute little fic about the brits!! the idea of writing something with Damon and liam fighting over someone was requested quite a long time ago (sorry it’s taken so long omg) but I loved the idea!! I do hope you all enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it a lot hahah xx

Pairing: 90s damon albarn & 90s liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: nothing, just a little bit of bickering n dat

Word count: 3.057

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Being a part of the madness that adapted the name ‘Britpop’ was truly an experience. Paparazzi at every corner you turn, equipped with the brightest, flashiest cameras, also having the most annoying click noises to the point that after one image you’ve earned yourself a migraine that would last the entirety of the day; parties that would last entire nights, bearing millions of different kinds of drugs - some that hadn’t even been given a name yet, but you’d still give a try anyways, since you’re so high and drunk that you simply lose the intellectual capability to construct decisions, you say fuck it, and get so high to the point that you’ve blacked out in a booth in a bar, with the owner asking you to get out since you’ve been inside for one too many hours after closing time; as well as constant press coverage. With your name plastered over literally every newspaper and music magazine known to man, as well as having your entire life consistently dictated for the entire nation to read about every Sunday morning and indulge themselves into as a form of entertainment, it was what being famous delivered, right on your doorstep at 7 in the morning. Any earlier and you’d feel rude not to give them a cup of tea as a form of dignity and respect towards their sublime dedication to the job. Although it was fun being associated with it all, my band in particular gaining a different form of calidity due to it being a female fronted band, by the time that the entire nation was hooked on this ‘Blur vs. Oasis’ rivalry, it was as if every other britpop band had been washed away from existence, due to eight boys arguing as to whom had the better music. And the better looks, according to Liam Gallagher.

Tonight was the night of the Brit awards, perhaps the most prestigious awards ceremony for music. To be awarded a Brit was probably the largest achievement possible in British music in the form of an award, and it was definitely either going tonight to either Blur or Oasis. The chances that another band, say Pulp, were to get the award, would not only be extremely amusing to see the reactions of the two biggest names in the Britpop game, but would also cause the largest uproar in the nation. It’s either Blur or Oasis. “Their drama is so silly,” laughed Emily, the guitarist in our band whilst flicking through the latest edition of the Sun, the cover of the newspaper being, of course, Liam Gallagher. “They’re literally bickering about who looks the best. How do people find this interesting?”

“Because of how silly it is, people never leave their secondary-school-like selves. Just a bit of fun I guess.” I replied, fixing up my hair in the mirror in front of me. We were currently getting ready to go to the award show, and needing to look your best was an expectation. Though I wasn’t dressed in anything that would result in jaw’s dropping, it was important that I at least appeared somewhat admirable - the entire nation always had their eyes on us, but tonight they were going to see us all, live. Perhaps the reason why bands like Oasis and Blur are so obsessed over nowadays, since all they’ll do is turn up in some flimsy Adidas t-shirt and call that fashion. I suppose scruffy was the new elegant.

“Who do you think they’ll give the award to?” she questioned, still aimlessly flicking through the recycled pages of the magazine. “I think Oasis. Their music is so much better than Blurs.”

“Really? I’d say Blur. They won on top of the pops, so the likelihood of them winning the Brit award is highly likely,” I answered, shuffling away from the strong reflection of myself towards Emily, my eyes quickly scanning the page that she had her eye on currently. “Gosh Liam’s so full of himself.”

“He’s got his eye on you, you know,” She said, shoving the paragraph she had just read in my face of Liam boasting about his little crush he had supposedly gained from watching our latest performance on top of the pops. “Thinks you’re ‘well fit’.”

Scoffing in response, I mumbled back to Emily. “If he thinks that he’s sleeping with me, he’s very deluded.”

By the time we had arrived at the venue, you weren’t able to walk into the entrance without at least 50 cameras blinding your eyes and the shouts of so many begging for you to quickly turn your head and grin - the price for the photo would reach the many thousands. Once walking in, it was less crowded, only having select people by the ground floor, dedicated for musicians and bands, with the occasional interviewer walking past to every circled table, adorned with white cloth and champagne glasses, asking questions about how they’re feeling, who they think may win, and what they thought of the music throughout the past year. What was nice was that people didn’t have that much interaction with one another, just with their groups. It created a sense of formality in the space, which made me feel a bit at ease from the idea of some random row happening in the middle of the floor, most likely between Liam and Damon. The past year in music was truly something. Britpop was at its peak the entirety of the year, with songs like Parklife and Supersonic pouring out of every radio station in Britain that by the end of the year, you had ditched casual radio music and began blasting the classical station. It was a nightmare. Since the fall of grunge subsequent to Cobain’s death the previous year, the talk of any other genre in Britain apart from Britpop didn’t occur. It was as if we were living on this mystical island, miles away from any other music and culture, whilst adorning and obsessing over our own. What was nice about Britpop was that it was a pure celebration of English culture, whether it be a simple Sunday roast, or going to school, they all carried the same ambience of nostalgia and pride - also disregarding whichever band wrote what song.

“Free champagne… Yes please,” said Madeline, the secondary guitarist of the band, whilst heading to the first seat she could sit on, then quickly indulging herself with the first taste of the rich drink. “Oh my gosh it’s heavenly!”

Laughing at her reaction, the rest of the band took a seat around the table and took their first sips of the champagne, which we would all come to find to be indeed heavenly. Small talk was shared here and there with the rest of the group, but overall I stayed silent. In all honesty I found attending award shows was quite boring because if you didn’t end up getting an award, you would essentially be sitting there for two hours doing nothing. Even if you did win an award, it’s simply a minute of glory with the speakers blasting your music, and another minute of all eyes piercing into your soul as you make sentences about your gratitude towards those who had helped you along the way to earn such an achievement. I doubt anybody genuinely liked attending shows like these.

“The champagne is good, yet we don’t get enough for our table,” I complained, grasping my now empty champagne glass and waving it around in the air. “I’m gonna head to the bar to get a refill, anybody want anything?”

After receiving a handful of nos from the rest of the band, I took myself out of my seat and wandered over to the bar, which was empty, perhaps due to the venue not yet being completely filled with all the artists that were set to attend the night. “Just a refill of the champagne, please.” I asked politely, handing the bartender the used glass I had kept in my hand. Whilst waiting, I noticed that Damon was on the other side of the bar, who also didn’t notice me there, until he caught eyes with me.

A grin broke out on his face as I walked over to him. “You alright?” He asked me, quickly thanking the bartender for his drink and turning back to look at me. The height difference between us was evident, but it wasn’t the case of something so dramatic that he was the height of the empire state building and me, just a measly common tower in the city. He looked quite content, his hair scruffy yet neat, along with his outfit being just as I had assumed: a white shirt with jeans, a used pair of Adidas for shoes.

I smiled back at him and nodded. “Suppose you have high hopes for the award tonight.” I said, simultaneously receiving my refill of the beverage I had ordered, followed by my thanks. We stood adjacent, although there was enough distance between us to establish our relationship - mutual acquaintances whom had met every now and again, since they’ve both been dragged into this wormhole of madness. He was quite the opposite in comparison to his rivals, though he himself could be quite bothersome occasionally, he still had a grasp to what those may call sensibility.

“Oh well we’re better than them, aren’t we love?'' He chirped, his head now cocked to the side in a teasing manner. “I’ve heard that you’re rooting for us this year.” He added, a little smirk pasted on his face.

“Do you read every paper you see?” I questioned, my face turning away from him in slight embarrassment. Between us, there was no shared intention for a relationship to stem, though there was definitely a flirtatious tension that followed between us wherever we had met. Whether it be a random photoshoot for a magazine double-spread, or backstage at top of the pops, we always managed to share a chat with one another, and nothing else followed on from then. It was quite sad, because once you’ve established a connection between something you either both disagree or agree with in terms of societal views, something in the press, or life in general, you’re instantaneously cut off and asked to hop onto stage to record a meaningless three-minute performance with fake, plastic instruments which practically mean nothing.

“Well it was nice seeing someone else's face on the papers for once.” He replied, downing his drink, then ushering at the bartender for another. A thing that we both realised was that, between our conversations, we indirectly indicated that we were both there for each other, because we both had a complete understanding towards what may be happening to the other person. It was stressful being in the limelight constantly, and for someone who was the frontman of a band so large, with his face plastered on every magazine cover imaginable, things were bound to be stressful.

Sighing, I turned to face him again. Despite the fact that before I had the ability to respond, our conversation was cut short from a voice shouting my name from behind. “Well if it isn’t bloody Y/N.” the voice said, and from then I instantly knew it was Liam’s. Turning my face away from Damon’s, I locked eyes with Liam. As always, he was dressed in the usual: a parka, with casual jeans. Oh, and don’t forget the Adidas shoes. Even though he and Damon practically hated each other’s guts, they always seemed to have similar fashion senses, but I could never picture Damon in a parka. And I don’t think I even want to.

“How’ve you been love?” He asked, swinging his arm around my shoulder in a warm, but nonchalant manner. Me and Liam had a similar relationship to that of mine and Damons, simply just minusing the sentimentality of it. We were friends, and had come across each other at random parties, which opened the gateway for us to drink and get high together many a time. While he was quite the idiot, he was also a very fun guy to be around, but I knew Damon would never understand that. “And why’re you letting this twat chat to you?”

A laugh escaped Damon’s throat. “I think you’re the only twat here, Liam,” he began, a sigh leaving my mouth as I was trapped in a situation that I could only pray didn’t gain much traction from the rest of the attendees. “Me and Y/N are friends, don’t suppose we’re getting jealous are we?”

Liam’s grip on my shoulder tightened as I stared at his reaction to Damon. I felt quite small in this situation, due to me needing to tilt my head a good amount to properly look at Liam, and knowing if I left it would just erupt chaos and make it worse. “No need for me to be jealous when I know that she wouldn’t want to spend a minute with you in bed you bastard.”

“And you’re so sure about that are you?” Damon replied, amusement laced in his words. “Because you’ve totally spent a minute with her haven’t you?”

“Well I’ve got my arm around her haven’t I? And she’s not stopping me,” Liam argued back, a smirk entwined on his lips. Reaching for my hand, Liam grasped it lightly, then then brought it to his lips, kissing it, before holding it gently. Method of intimidation, perhaps, and though it was sweet, there was a time and place. And this was definitely neither the time, or place. “Who’s the jealous one now, eh?”

“The last I recall, she had hoped that we were winning this year, not you,” He boasted, moving the contents of his drink around whilst grasping it firmly. Whilst it would be something that would offend Liam, he was simply the type of person to not take criticism regardless of whomever it was coming from. I respected him for that. “So much so for a healthy relationship.” Damon mocked, staring into my eyes as a small laugh escaped my lips.

Granted that I had found the argument shared between the pair of them to be extremely silly, it was good entertainment as the time passed before the award show would begin. Watching them both, attempting to throw insults at one another, each one trying to cut a little deeper than the one previous, made me almost laugh at the both of them right there. “You know, it’s so silly that you both think you know me so well to think which one I’d pick from the both of you,” I said, detaching myself from Liam’s embrace and snatching my half-empty glass of champagne. “At this point, it’s neither of you.”

Walking back to my band’s designated table, I quietly took my seat as the show began. “Saw you chatting to Damon,” Emily whispered, raising her eyebrows. “Also saw you grinning like a madwoman.”

“Oh shut up you,” I replied, looking back at the bar to notice that both parties had left, assuming back to their places. “There’s nothing going on between me and Damon- Liam too in fact.”

~~~

As the ceremony went on, the boredom got to us. Even the amount of drinks I had didn’t entertain me, but what could we do, we were stuck in the middle of an award show celebrating music, even though I had largely doubted that the majority of those attending were enjoying themselves. I had no clue who the awards were going to be handed out to, and whether that somebody may be us in a category, but we all knew Blur were going to win something. Yes, Oasis had gained a lot of fame and had become one of the most famous bands in the music scene at the minute, but by the way things had gone for Blur after the release of Parklife, things only seemed to go further up from there. And that was only proven to be truthful, after Blur had left with four different awards.

After Blur had received their fourth award for best British group, we all knew that there was nothing left for Oasis. “They’ll get it all next year, they only debuted this year you know.” I said to the table, who were staring at the four smiley boys on stage as they trotted up to receive their award. I admired Damon as he said his speech, then also turning to look over at Liam, who looked quite evidently pissed off. He was practically drooling in anger from the sight brought to him at that particular moment, and I couldn’t blame him - their band hadn't gone home with one award that night, but neither had ours. “They’ve taken four awards home, isn’t that like, the most anybody has ever taken?”

“Indeed it is,” Madeline replied, taking a sip from her drink. “Must be a good year for them then, eh?”

As I watched the band leave the stage in absolute glee, I stared at Damon as he walked back to his designated seat for the short remainder of the evening. Despite the fact that my band had been sat in our seats the entire evening in complete boredom, just like Oasis and so many other acts that had been nominated for pointless awards, it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t proud of how far Blur as a whole had come and evolved through their music, and especially Damon. From beginning as young, bowl-cut boys only charting so far on top of the pops, to creating songs and melodies that could unite our entire nation, it was impressive.

Damon was the face of Britain at this very moment, and a very good looking one. Once I watched him sit down, he scanned the room for a while until he was able to find where I was sitting, which was parallel to his seat, merely a couple metres away. He connected eyes with me as soon as he found me, also accompanied with a small smirk painted on his expression as he raised his eyebrows and sent me a wink. I simply smiled back at him in response before turning away abruptly, disrupting the little moment we seemingly shared, and though I felt my heart flutter a little, he’s definitely not winning me that easily.

#britpop #fanfic #bandimagines #Liam Gallagher x reader #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur #Liam Gallagher #oasis #blur band #oasis band #my writing #fluff #angst

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 291: The Endeavor Pamphlet

Previously on BnHA: Dabi showed up atop Gigantomachia’s back and was all “you’ll never guess who I really am!” and the readers humored him and were all “who?” and he was all “TODOROKI TOUYA” and we were all “WOW └(・。・)┘ OH MY GOSH I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED”, except for Shouto and Enji who were GENUINELY SHOCKED. Anyway so Touya was all “and guess what I’m doing right now!” and before anyone could even try, he was all, “STREAMING MY EMMY-NOMINATED MINISERIES ‘HELLO, I’M EVIL BUT ALSO TRAGIC AND SEXY, NOW LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY DAD WHO SUCKS’’, THAT’S WHAT.” And everyone was all “oh my god” and Touya was all “ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪” for basically the rest of the chapter, and that’s pretty much it! Oh, wait, except for the part where he also doused himself in bleach in a fit of pure theatrics, which is actually pretty much the main takeaway from the entire chapter really because it was just wild af. ANYWAYS.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi introduces Baby Touya, the world’s most enchantingly sweet character, and is immediately all, “I sure can’t wait to tell you guys all about how his fucking jaw burnt off.” Thankfully he doesn’t (YET), and we cut back to the present pretty quickly, where Dabi explains how he took all of his brain cells that should have been used to stop him from pouring bleach over his head, and instead put them all toward his big brain plot of releasing an elaborate video detailing Endeavor’s various abuses and crimes, and even throwing Hawks under the bus as well because WHY NOT. He then leaps off of Gigantomachia’s back (like I said, no brain cells) all set to blast them with a Prominence Burn, only to be stopped by none other than THE LEGEND HIMSELF, MOTHERFUCKING BEST, PRETTIEST, NICEST, MOST OUTSTANDING MOTHERFUCKING JEANIST. Who’s no doubt outraged by the crime against hair he witnessed only moments earlier. GO GETTIM JEANY BOI.

so I haven’t had time to answer any of them because this has been the stupidest week, but I just wanted to tell you guys that I received no fewer than nine asks about Dabi’s hair. which, in a week filled with election memes and tumblr’s most cursed fandom briefly rising back up from the dead, is a pretty impressive feat for him if you ask me. like, I know I was making fun of it basically nonstop, but it sure did generate a lot of discussion so maybe I should rethink my opinions on Dabi’s PR strategies now, idk

anyway. it’s Saturday. time to catch up on this shit. let’s see how fucked the Todorokis are

OH NO HE’S CUTE

HOLY SHIT THIS IS TOO MUCH TO FUCKING PROCESS. I’M JUST TRYING TO ENJOY MY DAY HORIKOSHI, ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO TRAUMATIZE THIS POOR CHILD RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD

“thanks for being all right” the fuck

who allowed this child to be so cute. I’m serious. who signed off on this

how could a child this adorable possibly want to murder his equally adorable baby brother. please, your honor. there must be some mistake here

guess how prepared I am to read all about Touya’s tragic past. mm. that’s right. zero ready. none ready

anyway. TWO THOUSAND DEGREES LOLOLOL. NO TRACE OF A CORPSE HOW CONVENIENT. A PIECE OF HIS LOWER JAW BONE FFFFMSGHKLSh. LOVELY. LOVELY

LMAOOOOO

listen you guys. I just want to take a moment to appreciate that Horikoshi Kouhei did one of two things here. either (1) he planned it out FROM THE VERY START that Touya would be born with red hair Because Fire Powers, but would then have his hair turn white due to trauma, thus making the Dabi/Touya connection very slightly less obvious, although Let’s Be Real Who Are We Kidding. OR, (2) the anime got it wrong and gave him red hair, and rather than allowing this plot hole to continue to exist, Horikoshi took it upon himself to concoct this elaborate storyline and pretend it was never a plot hole at all! in which case I sure hope someone at Bones is sending him a VERY nice Christmas card this year. got this man sweeping up all your messes for you. you’re just lucky he has some sort of wild compulsion to address these things

anyways!!

FATHER AND SON. how sweet. :| still zero percent ready for any of this btw

STOP BEING CUTE

THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW. HE IS THE SINGLE CUTEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SERIES, and do you even know how many other baby characters I’m betraying in order to say that?! baby Kacchan, baby Deku, baby Ochako, baby Shouto, Eri, baby Hawks. I’M LOOKING YOU DEAD IN THE EYE RIGHT NOW AND TELLING YOU THAT BABY TOUYA IS CUTER THAN ALL OF THOSE PLEBS. AND YOU’RE LOOKING BACK AT ME RIGHT NOW ALL “YEAH IT SURE IS A PITY ABOUT HIS JAW MELTING OFF THOUGH.” THAT’S IT, I QUIT THE SERIES

and Enji’s smiling at him. he’s so proud of him. but then Touya won’t be able to do it, and Enji’s gonna stop training him, and Touya’s gonna feel like a failure and keep pushing himself in order to try and win his dad’s affections back, because that’s all kids fucking want, all they want is just love, that’s fucking it, you couldn’t just give him that?? and then he’s gonna immolate himself fflkdlskfh THERE YOU SEE HORIKOSHI, I KNOW THE WHOLE STORY ALREADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE “SHOW THEM THE DEAD DOG” THING YET AGAIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT

OH SNAP THERE GOES THE TWIN THEORY. R.I.P.

BABY FUYUMI. PRETTY CUTE. NOT AS CUTE AS TOUYA THOUGH. HEY LOOK, NO REASON TO GET MAD AT ME I’M JUST STATING A FACT HERE

YEAH THIS IS GONNA GO REAL WELL OH BOY

I keep pressing the emergency stop button but this industrial tragedy machine just keeps on chugging along anyway, I’m pretty sure this thing is not up to code

:| I am so sorry sweet boy, Horikoshi is only getting started with you

FUCKING HELL WITH THIS NARRATION

but he wasn’t actually a child to you, he was just a little puppet child for you to live vicariously through!! and then you went and did the same fucking thing with Shouto afterwards and never learned your lesson until just six months ago!! fucking hell, Enji

so now he’s all “Touya is dead, that’s an unforgivable lie” fflkdhflk motherfucker does he look dead to you. if you really think that, tumblr and twitter have got a little over five years’ worth of archived theory posts to show you

oh shit Touya’s countering with “it’s an unforgivable truth”, which, damn. I actually think Horikoshi’s dialogue is one of his weaker points as a writer a lot of the time, but that comeback was snappy as fuck

actually guys, now that I’ve seen how ridiculously fucking cute baby!Touya was, I can almost understand why Shouto and Enji never put the pieces together before lol. any passing similarities would have easily been dismissed on account of he’d need to be at least 10x more adorable in order to get the full resemblance

OH MY GOD

NOW YOU SLEEP??? SO YOU POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PASS OUT WHILE YOU WERE BUSY MAIMING ALL OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS, BUT NOW THAT THERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR REACTION TO THE “YOUR LIEUTENANT WAS SECRETLY RELATED TO ONE OF YOUR WORST ENEMIES THE WHOLE TIME” BOMBSHELL, YOU FINALLY DECIDE TO GET YOUR FORTY WINKS. I SEE

WOW DABI

I’M SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T ALREADY HAVE YOUR ANCESTRY.COM RESULTS PRINTOUT READY TO FOLD INTO A PAPER AIRPLANE AND ZOOM ON DOWN TO HIM

LOL NEVERMIND

gotta say, so far The Endeavor Pamphlet is just about as spicy as I could have hoped

(ETA: Natsuo’s face as he watches his beloved dead brother come back to life only to literally and metaphorically set everything on fire in one fell swoop is :/. why must you do this to me Natsu. can’t you see I’m trying to throw a Welcome Back Jeanist party here.)

HAVE YOU READ THIS?! TODOROKI ENJI ABUSED HIS OWN HEIR, AND DABI WROTE IT DOWN RIGHT THERE

WELL HE’S NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT

btw I neglected to mention this last week, but yes I do recognize and appreciate that this is Can’t Ya See-kun himself whom Horikoshi has chosen to be the face of this existential crisis which the general public is about to experience. rip CYS-kun

OOF

excuse me. putting aside the implications of Dabi sharing this context-less murder video of Hawks with the entire world for a moment, I just have to pause for a sec here, because when exactly did he get a chance to edit this all in?? complete with voiceover that seamlessly ties in with the prerecorded footage of him with DNA test results sans shirt?? you’re telling me this motherfucker, with all the smoke that was in the room thanks to his own quirk, somehow got a PERFECT SHOT of the PRECISE MOMENT when Hawks drove his feather knife into Jin’s back, using his MAGIC CAMERA THAT HE I GUESS HAD THE ENTIRE TIME IN THE POUCH RIGHT NEXT TO HIS BLEACH BOTTLE, and then immediately somehow got this very next shot as well FROM AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT ANGLE

ALL THE WHILE IMMEDIATELY RUNNING THROUGH SCRIPT REVISIONS IN HIS HEAD, WHICH HE THEN PROCEEDED TO RECORD... WHERE, EXACTLY?? WITH SKEPTIC, WHILST RIDING ON MACHIA’S BACK??

AND THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF???

and this after I just wrote that whole long paragraph positively GLOWING about this man’s ability to plug up a plot hole. jfc. just scratch out every damn word I said lol. just forget all of it

are you fucking kidding me, the footage was from the cameras Skeptic planted on Hawks??

that’s... actually... okay you know what, it still doesn’t make any sense in the slightest, but the determination to address it nonetheless... just, dammit... I feel like I’m constantly at war with myself over whether or not I want to shake this man’s hand or slap him lmao. whatever, then!!

anyway, since Shouto and Enji can’t actually see the damage that Touya is dealing to the hero industry even as they speak, Touya is taking it upon himself to give them the highlights

I think it’s a testament to how much Endeavor cares about Hawks that he managed to zero in on that comment even amidst all the craziness of his eldest son returning from the dead to announce how he’s been carefully plotting their destruction for years and years. like, he heard “Hawks” and his face immediately went like that. you think he’s worried that Dabi did something to him? because he’d be right to worry lol

so the Endeavor Pamphlet narration is now explaining all about how Hawks totally killed the Number 3 Hero Best Jeanist as well! yep... he sure did... totally...

OH MY GOD WE’RE CUTTING TO HIM AHHHHH

Hawks, that is. lol. not Jeanist. NO, JUST MY POOR HALF-DEAD WINGLESS BABY SON

NOOOOO HIS LITTLE WING STUMPS. BUT SOMEHOW HIS FACIAL HAIR IS STILL INTACT. OH TO BE AN ANIME PRETTY BOY BEING SET ON FIRE. “HEY, TAKE IT EASY, WATCH THE FACE”

EXCUSE ME WHAT

interesting! we suspected as much, I think, with the clues that Ending dropped, and the little flashback right after the name reveal. still not clear how Dabi found out about it though!

looooool okay here we go, breaking out the heavy-handed holier-than-thou shit now

you know, I do find it interesting how trying to model themselves after All Might’s noble Symbol of Peace image has kind of ended up being the heroes’ undoing here. like, I could write a whole essay on this, but what it basically boils down to is that they were all trying too hard to be perfect. All Might went out there and did his thing and was amazing, and so the powers-that-be built an entire system centered around this seemingly-infallible person, and they acted like the system was infallible as well. and so most of the population ended up becoming complacent over the years, and meanwhile the people who were unfortunate enough to fall through the cracks understandably wound up disillusioned and perceiving the heroes as these false idols

anyway, but I think one positive takeaway from this is that the new up-and-coming generation of heroes represent a breakaway from that system. like, imo what we’re witnessing is the downfall of the Perfect Hero, and the rise of the imperfect hero. and this new generation doesn’t shy away from their failures or pretend like they never happened. they pretty much can’t pretend, because their failures are all right out there in the open for everyone to see. Bakugou Katsuki, just to name one example off the top of my very biased head, has had his own personal character journey basically play out right in front of the media’s eyes. his humiliation at the sports festival, his kidnapping by the League, and all of the fallout afterward. this isn’t someone who can ever go out there and convince the world that he’s perfect. but what he can do, instead, is show the world that he’s trying. that he’s trying with everything he has to do his best, to be the best. rather than this untouchable godlike image, it’s instead the image of someone painfully human who is nonetheless striving with everything he’s got to keep moving forward, flaws and all, and work his way to the top

and ultimately I think that’s going to be a much more positive image to send out to the world when all’s said and done. because rather than merely inspiring awe, heroes like that inspire people to take action themselves. or at least that’s what I hope! and not just Bakugou, but the others as well. we’ve got Shouto, whose own personal trauma is being aired in front of the whole nation even as I sit here ranting. we’ve got Deku, who cries at the drop of a hat, and who fought to become a hero despite being quirkless (and I think it’s only a matter of time before that eventually becomes public knowledge as well). tl;dr because I’m getting way too long-winded here, but these kids have effectively been humanized in a way that the old generation never was, and I think that’ll go a long way towards building trust between them and the people they’ll someday be protecting, and inspiring the next generation in hopefully a much healthier way

anyway so where were we. ...oh yes, Dabi was explaining that heroes only protect themselves, and is presumably building up to his grand conclusion of “therefore you should all just let the villains take over and burn down the world”

omfg. YOU GUYS

DOES CAN’T YA SEE-KUN’S SHARK FRIEND ACTUALLY CALL HIM “CAN’T YA SEE-KUN.” HE HAS A NAME YOU KNOW!! UNLESS HE LEGALLY GOT HIS NAME CHANGED TO CAN’T YA SEE-KUN. OH MY GOD

ALSO, IS THAT CAN’T YA SEE-KUN CRYING IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT THERE OMG. GIVE THIS CHILD A HUG. EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW AND HUG HIM

BAKUGOU IS BARELY HANGING ON THERE LOL. GOTTA STAY CONSCIOUS... SO MUCH TEA BEING SPILLED... FOCUS... CONCENTRATE

IIDA’S ANGLING HIS HEAD IN A WEIRD WAY, LIKE DUDE. LOOKING SUSPICIOUSLY SNUGGLY THERE. MMM THESE IIDABAKU CRUMBS

HADOU IS ALL “WHAT EVEN IS ACTUALLY GOING ON” LMAO

LASTLY, POOR SHOUTO OMFG. WHEN YOU’RE ALL FINISHED HUGGING CYS-KUN THIS CHILD NEEDS YOUR ATTENTION!!

so now Dabi’s leaping off of this ninety-foot-tall gargoyle man like that’s a normal, smart thing to do. unless he can fly too now? saw his dad doing it back at Fukuoka and was all “hmm”

OH MY GOD SOMEONE TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT WORD SHOUTO IS USING TO ADDRESS ENJI, THESE TRANSLATIONS LOVE TO MESS WITH MY HEAD

ENJI GET MOVING DO YOU NOT SEE THOSE TEARS!!! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU BIG TREE

AHHHHH

OH KACCHAN YOU WOKE UP A LITTLE MORE THERE, HUH

lol he and Deku both look so determined but they’re basically sitting ducks. their “oh shit” faces do look remarkably like their “TIME TO SWING INTO ACTION” faces but don’t be fooled, they have one good arm and about six pints of blood left between the two of them. looks like this one’s all on you Shouto

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH --

BAH GOD... WHAT’S GOING ON HERE... THAT’S BEST JEANIST’S MUSIC

y’all. can’t even talk right now, my brain has completely shut down lol. just. ...

°˖✧◝(￣▿￣)◜✧˖°

#bnha 291 #dabi #todoroki touya #endeavor #todoroki shouto #best jeanist #hawks #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #you guys know that scene from the end of the lion king #the part where simba is walking up to the top of pride rock #and he lets out that roar as zimmer's score soars to a crescendo #yeah baby #that's the mood rn #welcome back king

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jiminniethemarshmallow · 4 years

Text

Last Christmas (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: mentions of past bad relationships, oral (f receiving), fairly vanilla sex

(A/N): I am aware this is a common title 🙄 I’m very insecure about my angst writing skills and my golly gosh I was not happy with this at first. So I edited it several times and now it’s... acceptable. Hope y’all enjoy! (Inspired by me listening the Last Christmas by Wham! 20,000 times)

“Crowded room, friends with tired eyes/

I’m hiding from you and your soul of ice”

-Last Christmas by Wham!

Holiday parties can be one of two things. They could either be the most exciting, eventful get together of the year, filled with laughter and happenings that will be talked about all the way until the next party. Or they can be a dreadfully stressful evening of avoiding that One Person and stuffing your face full of cookies and eggnog— trying to figure out when’s an appropriate time to leave without being rude because you only really came to show your face for the person that invited you. Last year’s party was the happier option for Jimin, one he’ll never forget; but unfortunately, this year has become the latter situation where his choices from the previous party have come to bite him in the ass.

He stands somewhere in the corner, out of sight and avoiding the crowd as everyone mingles merrily over the festive music playing in the background. All night has been like this, terribly boring as he watches his friends joke around and have fun. A few times he’s gone over to the group when he felt it was safe to do so, trying to appear as normal and relaxed as possible as Seokjin scolded him for being a wallflower. He didn’t even want to come, he reminds them, he would have been happy to stay home and mope all night instead of being subjected to this torture.

‘But you have to come, this party is tradition!” Hoseok whined when Jimin first told them this 2 weeks ago. The others had similar complaints.

‘Yeah, it’ll ruin the whole night if you don’t show.’ Jungkook’s pout was pretty convincing, part of the reason why Jimin caved. When he finally agreed, Taehyung had thrown an arm over his shoulders with that carefree grin of his.

‘Don’t let her keep you from having fun! Show up and show off how good of a time you’re having. She doesn’t control your life and you need to start acting like it.’

But Taehyung was completely wrong about that because you had an unimaginable amount of control over him even after so much time. His eyes were wide and paranoid from the moment he walked through the doors, hoping that you wouldn’t see him or try to approach— hoping that he wouldn’t see you and fall apart. And even after initially locating you on the other side of the room chatting to someone else, Jimin couldn’t freely move about the room without keeping his eyes on you to maintain a safe distance. He wouldn’t allow himself to become too distracted in fear of losing sight of you and having an awkward encounter, so he barely spoke to his friends and kept a solo cup of punch as his only companion. Even if he hadn’t come, if he had stayed in his home like he wanted, you would probably still have power over him. He’d probably catch himself wondering if you decided to show up or if you were just as nervous to see him as he was. Would likely daydream about what creative outfit you’d chosen to dress yourself in because he’s been told you usually go all out for parties like these. Maybe he’d scroll through the messages he still hasn’t deleted from his phone, remembering, regretting, reliving both the good and the bad of everything that happened between you two in the course of the past year. Thinking about the events that led him to this, all starting at last year’s party.

*** *** *** ***

One Year Ago

*** *** *** ***

“Who is she?” Jimin stares at you over the lip of his cup, sipping slowly on his drink. Seokjin glances at where his friend is looking, lounging drunkenly on the sofa cushions and loudly singing the wrong words to the Christmas music blasting through the speakers.

“Why? You have a crush on her or something?” He smirks, chuckling at the scandalized expression that Jimin turns to him with.

“A crush? I’m not in the 5th grade, hyung,” He rolls his eyes. “I’m just asking because I’ve never seen her around before...” Jimin finishes quietly, mumbling into his cup as he takes another sip. But before he can swallow fully, Jin is calling you over with a wave of his hand.

You turn your head at the sound of his voice and Jimin swears his heart stops beating in his chest as a bright smile spreads on your lips at the sight of your friend. You walk over with confidence and he has no choice but to take in your body, curves and lines caressed by the tightest onesie he’s ever seen. You’ve come to the party dressed as Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer, your deer onesie zipped low enough for the tops of your cleavage to be revealed and your makeup colored flawlessly to match, freckles spotted along your cheeks and red painted at the tip of your nose. It shouldn’t be sexy, but you could probably make a trash bag look like lingerie with your looks. Jimin shifts in his seat when you come to stand in front of the two men, popping your hip as you look down at them.

“Yes, Seokjin?” You only spare a glance at Jimin before your eyes return to Jin, but his linger on you shamelessly.

“There’s someone who wants to meet you,” He sits up into a proper sitting position, pointing to the man beside him. “(Y/n), this is Park Jimin. Jimin, this is (Y/n). You’re welcome.” Abruptly, he stands and walks away, heading over to bother Jungkook in another part of the large room.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.” You extend your hand toward him and he fumbles with his cup between his hands at the gesture, eventually composing himself to stand and give you a proper handshake. Since he was seated on the couch and you had come to stand directly in front of him, you now stand a bit too close to each other, his body trapped between yours and the couch. But you don’t retreat, not even moving back a step as you inspect him from head to toe.

The two of you spent more than 2 whole hours talking, relentlessly flirting with each other as you discovered that you shared many things in common. You laughed at his jokes and gave him your full attention the entire night, your hand always finding it’s way onto his arm or knee as you pressed closer to him on the couch cushions as the night went on. It was obvious that you were very attracted to him, but Jimin didn’t want to be too forward and make you uncomfortable so he kept his hands to himself until you finally cracked and pulled his hand onto your upper thigh.

Looking into your eyes, he could clearly see the lust swirling in your irises, so it wasn’t a surprise when you pulled him upstairs into a bathroom, locking the door behind you and kissing him up against it. Nor was it surprising when you allowed him to lift you onto the countertop of the sink and bury his face between your thighs, tasting you until you had to clap a hand over your mouth to suppress your moans. What did surprise Jimin, however, was how amazing it felt to be inside you, his knees feeling weak as he pounded you into the hard surface and bit back the needy groans bubbling in his throat. You almost killed him when you dropped to your knees and took his tip into your mouth, sucking and swallowing every drop of his release as he gasped in elation. It took him several minutes to collect himself after the ordeal, but you sat on the counter and talked to him as you both calmed down and quickly agreed that this should become a regular thing.

It was about 5 months in that Jimin realized that he had serious feelings for you. The realization came when he couldn’t stop thinking about you— even in a non-sexual context— and started thinking about what it would be like if you were his. And when he finally gathered the courage to ask you out on a date, his heart nearly exploded when you said ‘yes’.

Yet his joy was short lived because his phone rang on the day of your date and you explained to him that you had been “thinking about some things” after a conversation with Jin. You had been talking about the newest episode of a tv show with him when he mentioned how awkward it would be if 2 of his friends ever started dating. He said he would hate to be a middle man between them, especially in an argument or breakup, and how hanging out with them would never be the same, how it would be weird to spend time with them separately but that he would be a third wheel if they were together. Of course, Jin didn’t know that you and Jimin were sleeping together, even if he was the one who introduced you, but his comment got you thinking and now you weren’t sure if you wanted to go out with him anymore. You told him that you needed time to think about it more deeply, but you are a logical person who never makes decisions without analyzing every outcome, so Jimin knew that it would be a long time before he got an answer from you. In the meantime, you suggested, you could continue to be friends because you had grown so used to his company, but things were awkward, and eventually communication dropped between you and you fell out of touch for the rest of the year.

A few times Jimin had wanted to text you. Ask if you still thought about him or if you ever intended to give him an answer. Maybe just check to see if you were doing well since he does still care about you. He still thinks about you almost everyday. Still wets his pillow with tears on hard nights. But his pride keeps him from reaching out, always afraid of your rejection.

*** *** ***

A sharp tap on the shoulder startles Jimin out of his thoughts and he almost drops the plate of cookies in his hands. Turning, his face pales as he is met with your inquisitive stare, beautiful face betraying little emotion. Before he can stop himself his eyes are scanning down your body, the ugly Christmas sweater dress you’ve elected to wear looking so cute on you, and he’s certain you’re the only person who could pull that off.

“Are you avoiding me? I haven’t seen you all night.” Blunt as ever, you stare directly into his soul as he squirms, looking down at the snack table in front of him and pretending to contemplate which goodies to pick up.

“No, I’ve been around.” He answers coyly.

“Not around your friends.” Your eyes shift behind him to the cackling group of men standing several feet away. This simple statement makes his heart jump. Had you been looking for him? Were you actually eager to see him tonight despite everything that’s happened? He tries to squash the tiny bud of hope in his chest, clearing his throat when you continue to stare at him.

“Like I said, I’ve been around. I’m not avoiding you.” This comes out quietly, he’s never been good at lying. But you make a sound of agreement and nod, not pressing him about it further. He watches from the corner of his eye as you turn your attention to the snack table now, looking as though you were going to pick something up, but when you realize that neither of you are moving and waiting for the other, you turn your head to him again.

“Do you- can we talk?” You ask abruptly and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He doesn’t know how to respond to this. Would it really be a good idea for him to talk to you? He’s tried so hard over these past months to extinguish the flame he felt for you, to lock away those feelings so he doesn’t get hurt anymore than he already has, but looking at you now— standing so close to him that he can smell the scent of your holiday themed body spray— has his heart working double time. One look into your eyes and he’s ready to melt into a puddle on the floor. He’s not sure how he’ll react if you actually got him alone.

Even still, he agrees.

Of course it’s after several seconds of silence and wide-eyed staring, but the smile you give eases his awkwardness once he finally gets the words out. It’s with lead limbs that he follows you through the crowd, weaving through friends and acquaintances until the noise of the room becomes muffled and you are the only person he can see. This is different, though. Flashes of last year keep coming back to him, the parallels making his head spin, but the air is different. Instead of sexual tension between you two it’s just regular tension. The air is tight in his lungs, but this time it’s not from excitement— it’s nervousness. The hallway you guide him to is private and out of sight, but this time you’re alone for an entirely different reason. He can sense the tension in your body even through the zip-tight facade you have on display.

When you come to a stop and face him, both of you are biting your lips, and it looks as if you’re trying to find the best way to put your words. You both stand with your backs to the opposite walls of the hall, the distance between you feeling necessary in order to think properly.

“How have you been?” You start quietly, lips pressed tightly together as though forcing yourself not to say the wrong things. “I’ve wanted to call you, text you, do anything to show that I still acknowledge your existence on this planet- but I’m a coward so I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So how are you?”

Again, Jimin finds himself not knowing how to answer. He could say he’s fine, but what good would that do in this situation? Taking a deep breath, he speaks.

“Honestly, it’s been hard, (Y/n). I know we never dated, I’m just the idiot that caught feelings in a strictly sexual arrangement, but it still hurts. You left me hanging.”

“You’re not an idiot.” You say quietly and he gives you a blank look before returning his gaze to the floor.

“... How have you been?” The words sound forced even on his own ears, but he can’t help but ask. He relates so deeply to what you said about not having the guts to reach out first. So many times he’s pulled up your contact, typed something out that resembles accepting the apology you never gave, but then he’d remind himself that if you wanted to talk to him you would, but you haven’t so you don’t.

“Miserable. I keep thinking about how it was when we were ‘together’ and how stupidly I acted. We were good together. I opened up to you more than I have to 99% of the people I know, and you did the same to me. I loved being with you— it wasn’t just about the sex— and I knew you felt the same way, but I froze up at the possibility of being your girlfriend. So I kept replaying everything that happened between us from the first day to the last, trying to make sense of it all and it was exhausting. A year feels like so long, but at the same time it feels like no time has passed at all.”

You were right about that. Standing in front of you now, it seems like he just saw you yesterday. He’s reminded of the last time he saw you in person, your head on his lap as he asked you out to dinner, beaming up at him as you spoke the magic words to him. “I did feel the same way. Truthfully, I liked you after our first night together and things just got better and better from there. I had so much hope. You seemed so happy with me, which made it hurt so much worse when you turned me down.” His eyes never leave the ground as he speaks.

He doesn’t see how your eyebrows crease. “I was happy! I was the happiest I’ve been in a long time when I was with you, but-“ You trail off with a shake of your head, biting your lip when you can’t think of the right words. “Jimin, I’m so sorry I hurt you. It really is all my fault.”

“But what? Would dating me really make that much of a difference?” You were basically a couple already, he doesn’t see what the problem could have been. He refuses to believe that you simply didn’t like him enough. Yet, a cold chill climbs up his limbs at the thought.

“No.” His eyes connect with yours and it’s your turn to look away.

“Then why did-“ He doesn’t even need to finish his question before you’re shaking your head.

“Because I was scared. Like I said, I’m a coward.” Jimin hates when you put yourself down like that. Hates to see you look so guilty even though he knows you probably should.

There’s a long pause.

“Then were you ever going to give me an answer?” Quietly, the words slip past his lips before he can even think about them. They float over to you and dance around your head as if taunting you. If Jin was truly the obstacle of your relationship, you both could have just asked him. No, Jimin isn’t asking you if you were willing to risk Jin’s comfort to be with him. He was asking you if you shared his feelings. If you wanted to be with him. And the answer isn’t as straightforward as he would have liked.

“I typed out an answer to you so many times, but I couldn’t send it. I’m sorry I waited so long to talk to you, but the more I looked at my words the more uncertain I got and eventually I felt like you wouldn’t want to hear from me at all. I really am sorry, Jimin.”

Finding his eyes again, you see Jimin stiffen. He looks tired almost, as if exhausted by his own worries and thoughts, and you sag when you notice this.

“What would you have said?” His words come louder than his previous ones, though they seem much more fragile. He blinks at you, watching your chest heave for breath at the question. Dread fills his stomach like a heavy stone in his gut.

“I like you a lot, Jimin, I do. But-“

Without a second thought, he spins on his heel and walks back toward the party, leaving you stunned with a gaping mouth. His heart twists painfully as he paces away from you, weaving his way through the crowd and toward the door. It’s one thing to worry and think the worst, but Jimin has been clinging onto that one shred of hope, and hearing you confirm his fears out loud would be the worst heartbreak. Your rejection would sicken him and he had no intention of crying in front of you or at a holiday party filled with his friends, so he made the split decision to leave.

He should have never come. He would’ve happily stayed in blissful ignorance for another year instead of having to experience this. This pain is the worst.

He can tell you’ve started to follow behind him but he doesn’t care. Swooping past the pile of coats on one of the couches and picking his from the top, slinging it across his body as he pushes open the door. The cold winter air bites at his nose as he pushes on toward his car, sniffling from both the weather and the emotions stuck in his throat. Soon, he hears your footsteps behind him, heeled boots clicking on the frozen pavement as you scurry after him. He doesn’t even look back.

“Jimin, wait-“ How childish of him to run off like this, you must be thinking, and he listens to your hurried steps with a frown as he imagines the pout on your lips and distress in your eyes. “I- Ah!”

Your dramatic gasp and the sound of your body hitting the concrete is enough to stop him. And his body reacts on instinct.

Whipping around he sees you wincing on the cold ground, cradling your ankle with one hand, and suddenly he’s rushing back over to you. You move to stand, attempting a tentative step forward, and Jimin reaches you just in time as you collapse again and fall forward into his arms.

“Jimin, that’s not what I meant-“

“Did you hurt your ankle?” He cuts you off, focused solely on the foot you hold limply above the ground.

“I-“ Noticing that he won’t meet your eyes, you relent, cheeks burning. “Y-Yeah.” The sidewalk is cracked and uneven where you stand, your heels likely stepping right into the crack and causing your twisted ankle. He clicks his tongue.

Any logical person might have taken you back into the party where the host, your friend, would surely be able to help. But instead he scoops you up into his arms princess style and continues down the path toward his car. You say nothing, simply looking at his side profile as he walks. Jimin refuses to look at you even with his arms wrapped around your body, feeling a distinct warmth not only from your body pressed to his, but also from your unyielding gaze. It’s almost as if you are studying every inch of his face, awed by the sight as though you missed it. As if you missed him. His face heats uncomfortably but he ignores it, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead until you reach his vehicle.

Opening the back door, he sets you inside, well aware of your momentary surprise when he slides in next to you and shuts the door. Holding out his hand, he waits for you to get the message, and slowly you raise your leg up until your ankle rests in his lap. The silence is tense. The enclosed space is only slightly warmer than the whipping wind and bitter cold outside, but currently neither of you are sure which you would prefer more. He removes your boot with some difficulty but takes care not to hurt you, reaching down to slip off the other and note the difference in size. Your ankle has begun swelling a bit, though the damage is minimal likely because of the cold. Your mouth opens with unspoken words, he can see this from his peripheral, but you end up closing it again without a sound.

The leather of his seats crinkle when you shift and the noise feels far too loud. His car smells of the air freshener he’s placed somewhere, a woody and spicy scent that reminds you of cuddles by a warm fireplace— the smell calming you somewhat as you allow him to continue his examination. As gently as he can, Jimin pokes at your ankle around the swollen area, pressing one finger over a spot that makes you hiss, and finally his eyes snap up to yours.

“What are you doing?” His eyes flicker away from you again at the question.

“I’m checking your ankle, it seems a little swollen-“

“No- what are you doing? Why did you walk away from me? Why did you bring me to your car?”

If he had an answer for you, surely he would give it, but he’s trying to figure all of those things out himself. What was his goal? Did he subconsciously want to talk to you somewhere away from the party, in a place where he was comfortable, that he could control? He thought he didn’t want to hear what you had to say, but here you are, alone with him again.

“I don’t know.” He answers lamely. “Did you walk here? I know you don’t live far— I can give you a ride home if you want.”

“I don’t want a ride home, I want you to listen to me!” At the raise of your voice everything stops. It even seems like the wind outside has paused. You weren’t angry, you were tired of him ignoring you when he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yourself. You bring your voice back down when he drops his hands. “Could you listen to me? Please.”

“... Okay.” Like a child, he sits stiffly with his hands folded and fidgeting, body half turned toward you, but you take that as sign enough to start.

“You asked me what I would have said to you in my message. You didn’t let me finish.” He swallows at your irritated tone, but it softens when you take a deep breath. “I was saying that I really do like you Jimin, but I just didn’t realize how much I liked you until I had already ruined things. I would have said that I’d love to date you, that hearing you ask me out was the happiest moment I’ve had in a long time— but I kept doubting myself. I’m so afraid that I’ll disappoint you. That we’ll start dating and just when I’m finally happy you’ll realize I’m not everything you thought I was and leave me. I’ve had some really bad relationships in the past and I felt like they’d come back to haunt me and you’d realize how damaged I am and get fed up because I’m not sensitive enough or too paranoid or too... broken.”

“(Y/n),” Seeing you so insecure like this hurts his heart. His hand returns to your leg. “I already know about your past relationships and trauma. You told me about it all and I still asked you out after I knew. I would never think that way about you.”

“I know you wouldn’t, that’s one of the reasons I fell so hard for you. That’s why it’s called an irrational fear. Even though I knew this, I still panicked when you asked me out and all of those thoughts came flooding in. And when Jin made the comment about his friends dating... I guess I was looking for an out. You did absolutely nothing wrong, but I pushed you away because I couldn’t handle the thought that you would want me, of all people.” You mumble your last sentence, but he hears you loud and clear. “I’m sorry, I do some pretty stupid things when I’m in love.”

When you’re in love?

Jimin doesn’t say anything for a long while, shocked into silence by your last statement. It’s a lot to take in, he’s just gone from believing you were about to rip his heart out and reject him, to hearing you say that you’re in love with him.

“So... what does this mean for us?” He hears himself ask, not conscious of his mouth moving to produce the words.

“I-If the offer still stands, I’d really like to date you. That is, if I didn’t already screw everything up and you still have feelings for me.” Your eyes looks so innocent when you look at him. You are usually fairly stoic, eyes betraying little emotion except for when you’re extremely happy or flirting— this is one of the few times he’s gotten to see this side of you. Being vulnerable is something you struggle with, it’s rare for you to be in this type of position where someone else holds your fate, your heart, in their hands.

He can’t hold back the small smile that makes its way onto his face, meeting your eyes without any apprehension this time. “You didn’t screw anything up, (Y/n).” He doesn’t say anything more after you return his smile, he simply exits the car and rounds the front to the drivers seat. The air shifts and it’s no longer as suffocatingly tense as it was moments prior, much to your relief.

The ride to his home is quiet, you don’t dare speak or look out the window for the entirety of the trip because you’re so focused on the back of his seat and the glimpse of his face you can catch whenever he shifts. He’s fairly certain you’re trying to figure out what exactly is running through his mind right now— and so is he, honestly— but you won’t ask him yet. He hasn’t really given you a proper response, you can only hope that his comment meant that he holds no ill feelings toward you and would also like the chance to date you, but you hate assuming. Your pride has your questions caught in your throat, though.

You seem a bit startled when he parks in front of his building. He answers your curious gaze with the excuse that he can better take care of your injury here and insists that you stay the night since it’s already so late. Cheeks burning, Jimin tries to ignore the small chuckle you let out when he stammers, his arm wrapping around you to help you out of his car. He takes revenge on you, however, as he lifts you back into his arms like before, not even allowing you to place your feet on the ground as he walks into the apartment complex despite your complaints, smirking slyly when your face colors the same as his at the odd looks you receive from the other passengers of the elevator.

He puts you down only when you reach the couch inside his apartment, setting you gently on the soft cushions and offering to take your coat from your shoulders. He hadn’t even asked if you had all of your belongings from Jin’s house before he impulsively drove you here, something that he apologizes profusely for, though you wave him off and assure him that you only brought your coat and the things you could fit in its pockets with you.

Not knowing what else to say, Jimin stands in front of you for several long seconds as you look up at him with soft eyes. He’s caught now, forgetting everything that he was doing as he looks back at you sitting so prettily on his couch. That look you have in your eyes is the same one that gave him enough courage to ask you out months ago, your irises nearly sparkling even in the dull lighting of his living room. It takes his breath away and he is momentarily stunned, frozen in place with a heart that beats out of his chest. What was he even supposed to be doing? Your coat is in his hands and he fiddles with it, trying to remember where he wanted to put it before you blindsided him with those beautiful eyes. Ah, yes. The coat closet. Blinking, you take note of how he shifts from one foot, then the other, before clearing his throat.

“I’ll be right back.” Jimin turns from you immediately as he feels his cheeks start to color pink. It feels heavy, having all of those wilting and withering emotions come slamming back down on him with just one look. He’s dazed as he hangs both of your coats in his closet, picking up compression bandages and scissors from his first aid kit then swinging past his kitchen to retrieve an ice pack for you.

When he returns he sees you still seated rather uncomfortably on his sofa, body tense and on the very edge of the seat. You were never this awkward in his home before, even during your first time here— granted, you did spend the first few hours naked in his bedroom, eliminating most of the discomfort you’d feel when he decided to give you a tour of the rest of the place afterward. But Jimin somewhat expected that you would settle right in even though things have changed since the last time you were here. Guess not.

“You can get comfortable, you know. You don’t have to act like a stranger.” He tries to laugh but it comes out a bit dry, the pull on his lips looking a bit forced. And it hits him then that he’s the one that’s nervous. While you seem to be trying your hardest to be polite, he’s actually the one that feels pressured. Swallowing hard, he takes a seat next to you and lifts your injured foot onto his lap again, this time feeling hyper aware of where your body touches his. His hands shake the entire time he wraps your ankle and he’s sure you’ve noticed by how intensely you stare as he works. It’s embarrassing to say the least, but he can’t seem to calm himself. Not when you’re so close to him again and especially not now that he knows how you truly feel about him. So, reluctantly, he removes your legs from him once he’s finished and sets up some pillows over the armrest for you to elevate your foot and places the ice pack on your ankle. “So, um, do you wanna watch a movie or something?”

*** *** ***

One thing Jimin has always found endearing about you is how quickly you tend to fall asleep once relaxed enough. The movie is little over halfway through when he sees your head nodding beside him, catching him by surprise when you lean over to rest it on his shoulder. He shifted you to lay against his strong thigh so you can get more comfortable, and now he’s completely forgotten about the movie as he watches you sleep peacefully against him. Staring down at you like this has all of his worries slipping away, your words from earlier finally sinking in and allowing him to finally react. This was all he ever wanted, you to give him a chance and reciprocate his feelings, and now that it’s happening it doesn’t quite feel real. But you are very real. He confirms this by caressing his thumb over your cheek, planting a soft kiss on your forehead that makes your eyes flutter open.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispers sheepishly, but you simply shake your head.

“No, it’s okay.” You stretch but don’t bother to move away from him. You’re far too tired for awkwardness and would much rather return to normalcy with him.

“How’s your ankle?” He asks gently, glancing at where it remains propped up at the end of the couch.

“Mm, a little sore,” He frowns at that, feeling guilty. “But it’s not that bad! I’m fine, really.”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault you got hurt.”

“No it isn’t, it’s my fault for not looking where I was going.”

“But you wouldn’t have needed to watch where you were going if I didn’t storm away from you like that.”

You let out a heavy sigh at this. “Just drop it, okay? It’s really not that big of a deal, I’ll be back to normal in a few days.” You turn your head toward the tv to take in what was happening on the screen, allowing the noise of the movie to fill the quiet that falls between you two.

“I won’t do that again.” Jimin states quietly, playing with the hair at the very top of your head. “In the future, I won’t walk away from you until we work things out like adults. You didn’t deserve that tonight.” Something about how he says this makes your heart stutter. You turn back around slowly, lips parted as you look up at him.

“In the future? As in, you want to have a future with me?” Realizing how that sounds, you quickly try to backtrack as you sit upright with a wave of your hands. “I mean in the near future, not like you want a future with me like we’re getting married or something! You know what I meant, right? I wasn’t implying that... y-yeah.“ At the amused look on his face, you stop, closing your mouth before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. You’re never like this around him. You never used to fumble for words or feel the need to explain yourself like you do now, but suddenly the pounding of your heart has you tongue tied and jittery. Your nervousness makes Jimin feel a little bolder.

“Yes, (Y/n). In both the near and far future, I’ll always treat you with respect. You’ve had it hard. I want to be the one to show you that relationships can be good— that you can trust me to respect you as a person and can put your faith in me. So yes, I want there to be a future.” You blink at him and he has to laugh at the dumbfounded look on your face.

“...Does this mean you’ll give me a chance and date me?” He nods. “You’re not upset? I left you waiting unanswered for months, I would’ve thought you would at least need some time to... reconsider?”

“What’s there to reconsider? My feelings for you are just as strong as the last time I saw you, (Y/n), that hasn’t changed.” Your eyes drop to where his hand lands on your thigh, making you gulp. “We wasted enough time not being together this year, what’s the point in wasting another second? Sure, I was hurt before tonight, but hearing you explain everything so openly to me made me happier than you can imagine. I want you to go out with me. I want you to see how much I care about you and know how far I’ll go to make you happy, and fall for me just like I’ve fallen for you.”

He seems resolute when he says this, serious but sweet all the same, and now it’s your turn to be shocked and dazed by how honest he’s being at the moment. This must have been how he felt earlier, unable to say the right words or relax his body even after your reassurance. You want to tell him that what he said is pretty silly. Silly because you already fell for him without even realizing it and there’s little else he needs to do to prove himself in your eyes. Unable to vocalize all of this, you simply move closer to him until you’re face to face. His hands come to softly rest on your waist out of habit, stabilizing you as you slowly rise on your knees and lean into his lips, kissing them innocently to convey what you feel.

As soon as your lips find his, chills shoot throughout his body. God, he’s missed your lips. Missed the way you smile into the kiss when he presses deeper and pulls you closer with his insistent hands. You tell him everything he needs to know with every movement you make, your hands snaking up from his chest to his neck where they twine loosely in the hair at the back of his head. His breath hitches when you throw a leg over his hips to straddle him, your dress riding up your thighs until it bunches around your hips. You pull away from his mouth, panting and grinning in his lap.

“Okay.” You nod, accepting him.

“Okay?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile.

“Yes. I want that, too.” He allows you to press into him again, his back molding into the cushions of the seat as you rest your weight on him fully.

“Good.” You can see he’s trying not to look overly excited by this because he’s biting his lips hard to contain his smile, but his eyes betray his happiness to you. When he sees you smiling at him, he buries his face in your neck, leaving playful butterfly kisses that flutter ticklishly against the skin of your neck, chest, and shoulders causing you to giggle.

“Jimin stop, that tickles!” You squeal, halfheartedly squirming to get away, but he has his hands tight on your hips to keep you in place. Giggling at your playfulness, he lets his lips linger just a little longer with each peck, stealing licks and nibbles every so often until he trails his way back up to your lips. His fingers slide down to press into the smooth skin of your exposed thighs, wanting but not pushy even as the kisses become hungrier.

You didn’t intend on your make out session turning into anything more, but the atmosphere quickly shifts in that direction as soon as your hips start to roll against his. As soon as your crotch meets his, Jimin bucks into you slightly and you let out a mewl into his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He feels your body start to heat when he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring you in sync with the rolls of you hips. Just having you close to him again has his body reacting and he’s sure you can feel him hardening in his slacks, light hisses leaving him whenever you catch his tip against your thigh or pull at his roots, tugging his head back to you every time he tries to pull away to gasp. A wet patch seeps into his briefs beneath your expert hips, ruining his slacks from the inside while you ruin them from the outside with the wetness you drip from your panties.

Jimin’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your dress, breaking from you shortly to silently ask your permission, and once you nod he delicately removes the clothing item before tossing it to the other side of the sofa. Taking it further, he pulls down the cups of your bra to expose your breasts to him, gently rubbing his thumbs over your sensitive nipples.

“So pretty,” He whispers, bending down to take one into his mouth, sucking the bud as you hump against him faster. Your fingers, still wound in his hair, keep him steady at your chest, tiny whimpers leaving your lips at each flick of his tongue and graze of his teeth against your pert nipple. He works around your tits just how you like it, having learned exactly what makes you mewl from the many times he’s found himself in your bed. Your chest is glossy by the time you peel him away, the pressure in your core no longer satisfied by your grinding, and he gives you a questioning look when you move to stand in front of him with your hands on the button of his slacks. Completely forgetting about your ankle, your leg gives as soon as you put pressure on the bad foot and Jimin catches you swiftly, flipping you so that you now lay against the cushions with him kneeling in front of you. “Be careful,” He scolds lightly, trailing kisses up your thighs.

“You don’t want me to give you the ‘sloppy-toppy pepper grinder 9000’?” He snorts at your puppy eyes, pulling down your panties with a shake of his head.

“Not today,” The pecks he leaves up your inner thighs have goosebumps prickling your skin.

“But you love the ‘sloppy-toppy pepper grinder 9000’!” Your pout becomes more prominent when he spreads your legs further apart, anticipation building exponentially in your gut.

“Please stop calling it that,” Jimin laughs, eyes squinting cutely at you. “Tonight I wanna show you how much I missed you. Just relax, baby, let me take care of you.” He doesn’t give you time for a rebuttal, diving down to lick up the arousal that dribbles down your folds, following the trail up with his tongue until he reaches your clit with a flick. You moan immediately and he’s almost surprised by your sensitivity, concealing a small smirk by dipping down to do it again.

His fingers part your lower lips, allowing him to press his tongue more firmly on your bud, and it’s all you can do not to shriek at the bolts of pleasure it sends up your spine. It’s like he’s injected lava into your veins, heat spreading all throughout your body and pooling in your core with every eager swipe of his tongue against your bud, setting your nerves alight. Jimin has always shown enthusiasm for oral— you remember one night in particular where he pinned you down and wouldn’t let up until you were begging and crying for him to stop as your 5th orgasm of the night washed over you— but this is something different entirely. His movements are slow and deliberate, sensual patterns drawn against your most intimate areas to build you up slowly but steadily, focused solely on your throbbing clit that practically begs for his attention. He has his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every emotion that flickers across your features and noting what brings you the most pleasure, although he already knows from experience.

“Mmh,” He growls into you as you continue to drip for him. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, your essence coating his cheeks and chin messily. It smears against his lips when you start to rock into him, moaning lewdly in tandem with your movements and holding onto the back of his head for leverage. He really doesn’t mind how you hold his face so tightly to your center. The heat from your core and thighs give his cheeks a delightful flush but he doesn’t pull away for a second, instead using his lips to suck on your pearl until your legs quiver around him. One of his hands drops down to palm at the ever increasing tent in his pants, his dick already at full hardness and twitching impatiently for the chance to be inside you. Just thinking about being inside your wet heat again makes his eyes roll— fuck, he needs to calm down before he cums in his pants. But he can’t help but shift his hips in search of friction when two of his fingers enter you with no resistance, slipping in to the knuckle because of the copious amounts of fluids you leak. It’s easy to find your spot, and when he does your back arches from the chair.

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m close.” You gasp out, tossing your head back as you rub yourself against his face more forcefully.

“Already?” He mumbles against you, the words muffled because he refuses to pull away, but the vibrations of his voice go straight through you. All you can offer is a needy whine to him but it’s more than enough for him to double his efforts. He pushes at your thigh to open you again, then flattens his wet muscle over your clit, using his whole mouth to please you with broad licks that make your toes curl. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he strokes at your spot, pulsing synchronously with the bud against his tongue, and he catches the most beautiful look take over your face as he brings you to climax.

Your skin flushes as the high overtakes you, mouth parted to let out the cutest moans and curses mixed with his name, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows scrunched together as wave after wave crashes down on you. His name has never sounded better to him as it falls from your pretty lips on repeat, drowning out the squelch of your wetness as he fingers you through your bliss. Feeling you pulsate around him is a feeling he’ll never get tired of, but he’d much rather feel you throb around his cock instead of his fingers, his hips bucking up into the air in anticipation.

“So fucking sexy,” Jimin groans, obsessed with the way your hips squirm when it becomes too much. His wet lips press kisses down your trembling leg as you catch your breath, ending with your tender ankle that he babies apologetically.

“Holy shit.” You finally find it within yourself to whisper, melting into the couch beneath you.

“You okay? I’ve never seen you cum that hard before.” He isn’t teasing when he says this, but your cheeks heat up regardless, averting your eyes away from his gentle gaze.

“I haven’t slept with anyone since you, so I’m a little hypersensitive now.” It’s been months since anyone has touched you. Truthfully, it wasn’t only because you felt bad because of your silence toward Jimin, but that certainly played a part in it. Even still, you don’t like how his face morphs into shock as if there’s a horn growing out of your forehead. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Oh, no it’s just- I haven’t been with anyone else either...” He didn’t like to think about it, but he assumed that you were getting your needs fulfilled by someone else after you had stopped talking to him. Knowing you hadn’t been with anyone else makes an odd relief come over him. Now he’s blushing too and you still can’t look at him, but he climbs up your body to kiss you anyway, easing your momentary shyness. The kiss reignites your desire and suddenly he feels your hands tugging at his zipper, working to free his member from his confinement. He takes this time to remove his own shirt, unclipping your bra and tossing it into the pile of clothes that now sits at the end of his couch as you yank down his slacks and briefs in one go.

His length springs free before you, the sight pulling a whimper from your lips. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, thick and long and smooth in all the right places, and it never fails to make you gush every time you see it. You can practically feel it inside you already and you can’t wait another minute, wrapping your warm fingers around the base and stroking drips of precum from the tip. Jimin groans with a bite of his lip, removing your hands from him and leaning away.

“Turn over for me.” He instructs, gripping himself as he watches you spin onto your knees with your arms draped over the back of the couch. You look back at him with flirtatious eyes, wiggling your ass at him to entice him into action. A smack lands on one of your cheeks, the flesh jiggling from its force and you hear a sharp inhale behind you. “Comfortable?”

Always the gentleman, he always checks to make sure you’re okay. But you’re far beyond that point, seconds away from grabbing him and pushing him into you yourself.

“Yes, now please fuck me already, I’m going insane.” He snickers at the way you push back toward him, hole searching for his length blindly as sweat accumulates on your back.

“Anything for you, babe.” Fingers collecting your dripping essence, Jimin takes the time to spread your lubricant over himself, allowing you to hear the slick noise and his heavy breaths as you wait on quivering knees. After what feels like an eternity, you finally feel him drag his hot tip through your folds, tapping the weight against you until you’re just about ready to crack. But just as you take in a breath to scold him, he pushes in to the hilt and forces a groan from you.

The intrusion is tight. He almost goes cross-eyed at how tightly you squeeze him upon entry, and he’s awed into silence at the way your velvet repeatedly clenches and relaxes as you try to adjust. At least he thinks you’re trying to adjust, until he brings his fingers down to your clit and starts rubbing, only for the clenching to get more intense.

“Is that okay?” He asks, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your back.

“It’s amazing,” You nearly sob, rocking back into him. “Please move, I can’t take it anymore.”

Before you’re even finished your sentence he’s pulling back, leaving you completely empty except for his tip before thrusting forward. You both moan at the movement and he starts a fairly quick pace, standing erect and gripping your hips securely. Just like the first time he had you, you steal his breath away. It’s addicting, the way he glides in so easily with the thick coating of arousal you cover him in, and he wonders how the hell he lasted months without you. He thrusts deep, giving you every inch and loving the curses and whimpers you let out.

“Shit baby, just like that.” You gasp, digging your nails into the top of the sofa at the pleasure. The arch in your back deepens when he hits your spot, and you involuntarily clench around him, goosebumps crawling up your skin when the tightness pulls a deep groan from him. His cock is the perfect shape, the perfect length for you, and he touches places within you that you can never reach on your own. Every snap of his hips is precise, intended to give you the utmost pleasure because Jimin simply adores seeing you fall apart for him, but there’s something else tonight. Passion. You can feel it in the way his hands roam your body freely, tracing over your curves and caressing you with a tenderness that you haven’t felt before from anyone. His thumbs massage the dimples in your back even as he rams into you, dipping down to line your shoulder blades in sloppy kisses.

“Fuck (Y/n), I missed you so much.” Jimin rasps, sucking a hickey into the side of your neck as he changes his pace to a swivel of his hips. “Missed our long talks, missed your laugh, those cute little moans— mmh— and I especially missed fucking this tight, wet pussy.”

“Yeah?” You try to sound a little cocky, but that’s ruined by the shakiness of your voice. He still has your legs shaking even with the delicate strokes he now delivers, and you have to rest your forehead on the back of the couch to catch your breath.

“I can’t tell you how much I thought about you these past few months. I drove myself crazy wondering if I’d get to see you again.” His voice drops an octave when you squeeze at his words, your walls fluttering along with your heart.

“S-sorry,”

“Stop apologizing, at least I get to have you now.” And have you he does. Whether he knows it or not, he owns your body and heart already and there’s no going back now. Nodding, you start to rock backwards against him, fucking yourself on his cock. He stops moving to let you work, biting down on your shoulder at the feeling as you spread your legs wider to get more leverage. His moans and grunts spur you on, wordless encouragement as you render him speechless with your hips. If he wouldn’t let you use your mouth on him, the least you could do is take some of the work off his hands to pay him back. If it wasn’t for your bum ankle you’d be riding him off into the sunset right now, but you settle for working hard on pleasuring him like this.

His hands aid your movements, pulling you back onto him as you feel the light layer of sweat smear on your shoulder when he rests his forehead against it. One of his hands inches toward your midsection, pressing down slightly to feel the bulge of his tip as it slips in and out of you, pulling a desperate moan from you. The pressure around his member increases from the external force and he moans alongside you, the sweet sound breathed right next to your ear and traveling straight to your core.

“I’m- I’m close again.” You hiccup, faltering in your motions.

Without a word, Jimin pulls out of you, ignoring your whine to move you onto your back swiftly. He situates himself between your open legs, smirking at how they tremble on either side of him as he lines himself up and pushes back into you. At your gasp he steals a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and savoring the taste of your moans. He drops down to his elbows but you pull him closer until all of his weight rests on top of you, even if it causes his thrusts to be less efficient. When he pulls away for air, he smiles down at you.

“Hi,”

“Hi.” You return, brushing some hair away from his eyes.

“I just wanted you to face me so I could watch you cum again.” Jimin explains cheekily, proud of the blush he pulls from your cheeks.

“Then make me cum.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Swooping down for another kiss, his hand immediately slithers between your body to reach for your clit, pressing into it with his fingers as his hips pick up speed. You’re confused at first when his hand doesn’t move, your pearl throbbing beneath him, but it’s soon forgotten when he touches your g-spot again and makes you see stars.

Your orgasm builds up with every hard stroke of his, and when your legs move up to wrap around him he hits so much deeper. A knot is forming in his own belly from looking at you, watching you struggle to keep your eyes open and on him as you tug on his scalp. The sparks of pain only add to the almost overwhelming pleasure of being inside you, and Jimin has to focus hard to avoid cumming before you. He grits his teeth as he fucks you harder, reveling in the music of your squelching wetness and the slap of your skin, keeping the rhythm steady to please you. Your hands leave his hair as the pleasure mounts. They grapple at anything around you as you start to lose control, grabbing at the cushions beneath you, scratching down his back, holding onto your own legs, until they finally settle on the firm muscles of his ass, urging him on.

Then he feels it. The steady clamp of your cunt that tells him quite clearly that you’re ready.

Shifting his fingers to swipe a glob of your arousal, Jimin begins rubbing into your clit vigorously, holding his position solidly above you when your body jolts from the sensation. You feel as if he’s rubbing a fireball into your core, heating you up until you’re panting and sweating and just about ready to combust. He’s assaulting you from all sides, battering your g-spot, attacking your clit with his nimble fingers, and sucking at your stiffened nipples; the onslaught of bliss sending you head-first into a breathtaking orgasm.

Looking up at you through lidded eyes, Jimin feels like he’s flying. You look completely enveloped in bliss, pride swelling in his chest as you call out his name and pull him closer until there’s no space between you. Feeling you cum around him is his favorite feeling, he loves the erratic spasms of your inner muscles, how the rest of your body tenses around him, the uncontrollable jump of your hips as he works you through it all with slow fingers until you try to squeeze your legs shut around his body and he takes pity on your whimpering. It feels so good you could cry, and there’s nothing he loves more than the watery eyed smile you give him when you finally peek your eyes open to stare up at him.

His heart clenches as he looks down at you, racing for a reason unrelated to the vigorous movements of his hips. Seeing you like this, with stars in your eyes and soft adoration for him, has him hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You stroke his hair and continue to clench around him, whispering dirty words to push him over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum,” Jimin grunts, the crease between his eyebrows growing.

“That’s it, baby,” You drawl as you suck your own love marks into his skin. “Cum for me.”

With a strained groan, Jimin pulls out of you and rubs himself against your lower abdomen, shivering when you drop down a hand to stroke him until white ribbons coat your stomach. There’s a lot of cum and it makes a mess all over you, yet you enjoy every drop, savoring the quivering moans from the man above you. When he’s finished, you release him and reach for his face, bringing him down for a searing kiss.

You don’t know how long you kiss him like that, but you do know that he breaks away all too soon, pushing himself up off the couch to gaze upon his artwork. He lets out a growl of approval, to which you laugh and throw one a pillow at him.

“Pervert.”

“What? I didn’t even say anything!” He snickers on his way out of the room, returning with a wet washcloth to clean you with. His touch is so gentle that you could fall asleep right there, but you force yourself to stay awake to bask in the moment. It’s then that you realize the tv is still on, the movie you had been watching having ended long ago. You reach for the remote and turn off the screen, watching instead as Jimin busies himself with tidying the room. He reaches for you when he deems it good enough, all of your clothes folded at the other end of the couch and his cushions clean of any bodily fluids, and this time when he lifts you into his arms you allow it.

After helping you to the bathroom and making sure you didn’t fall or walk on your injured foot, he rests you on his bed gently and tosses you one of his shirts, slipping on a new pair of boxers for himself. As soon as his warmth enters the bed with you, your entire body relaxes. Cuddling after sex hadn’t always been your thing, but it became routine a few months after seeing Jimin. He couldn’t resist and you couldn’t say no and now it comes almost automatically. He lets you wrap your arms around his midsection and rest your head on his beating heart, his own arm slung around your waist. These moments, these quiet moments where the silence is comfortable and simply feeling your skin is enough, are what he missed the most. He’s never wanted this kind of intimacy with anyone else. Never craved to hug anyone and never let go until he met you. No one has ever occupied his thoughts like this, made him slightly irrational or scared him as much as you do— he’s never been scared to lose someone before he was faced with that situation with you. Jimin is certain he’s never been in love before, therefore he has no idea what it feels like, but now he’s starting to wonder if this is it. The thought is equal parts terrifying and comforting and all he can do is hold you closer.

A chuckle from you draws his attention to the silly smirk on your face, and he just knows you’re about to say something stupid.

“So, you missed this gorilla grip pussy?” Of course you would say something like that. You’re the only person he knows who would say that to someone in seriousness— just like how you came up with that foolish name for a blowjob. But it’s one of your many charms. He stifles a laugh knowing it would only encourage you, but you catch the rise of his cheeks and laugh anyway.

“Ugh, why do I even put up with you?” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Because of this gorilla grip pussy.” You state as though it were obvious, clinging to him as he lightheartedly tries to push you off.

“God, I missed your goofy ass.” His lips find your forehead and your snuggle deeper into his chest.

“And my-“

“Please, don’t say it again.” Jimin stops you with a wrinkle of his nose, pulling the sheets higher up your bodies. “But yes, I missed that too.” Your giggles settle down after a few seconds and then the mood shifts to something a bit more serious. “(Y/n).”

“Hmm?” You hum, closing your eyes.

“Never think you aren’t good enough. Your past doesn’t define your future and just because a few people treated you poorly in the past doesn’t mean that you’re unworthy of love. You may think that what you went through makes you undesirable, but in my eyes it makes you look incredibly strong. And you’re even stronger to be able to share your experiences with me and open yourself up after all that’s happened. I want you to know that I will never fault you for the shitty things other people have done, and I will spend every day showing you just how amazing you are to me, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t open your eyes as he speaks, afraid that the tears that have been welling up will spill over if you open them. Hearing him say this means the world to you and you’re inclined to believe every word. These are the kinds of things he would say to you when you were still just fuck buddies. He always listened with empathy and took the time reassuring you that nothing you went through was your fault, yet you still doubted him when he showed interest in dating you. Looking back on it, you feel silly. How could you ever doubt such a genuine man, who has never taken advantage of you even once when you poured your heart out to him, who is so understanding and caring that you feel instantly at ease when talking to him? Jimin is everything you ever wanted, and for once your heart and brain can agree to let yourself be happy.

“Thank you, Jimin.” You sniffle, leaning into the hand that now strokes through your hair as his words replay in your mind. You don’t like getting emotional, so you try to dispel it by using humor. “If you truly mean it then get ready, I only get goofier from here.”

He giggles. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Oh it is, trust me.”

“I do.” The seriousness of his tone has you glancing up at him, suddenly overwhelmed by the affection in his eyes. You clear your throat, feeling a blush creep up your neck so you look away. “So will you let me take you out tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the sooner the better. We could go out for breakfast.” His smile is blinding and your blush deepens. You’re not used to getting shy, but Jimin seems to bring it out of you.

“Brunch. I have a feeling we’ll be sleeping in.” Glancing at the clock, you note how late it is, well past midnight and any other reasonable bedtime. That doesn’t seem to matter, however, because you will probably spend all night laying awake from the excitement of what will come tomorrow— and the day after, and the day after that. Your months of worrying have finally come to an end and this feels like a brand new start. You have no idea what it’ll be like to date Jimin, but the promise of it all is too much to bear. The smile doesn’t leave your face for the rest of the night, not even as you fall asleep.

“Brunch it is.”

#Jimin smut #Jimin angst #bcccse #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #clubjimin #ficswithluv

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chibimyumi · 4 years

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Kuromyu Q&A

Dear everyone, as promised, here are the A’s to all your Q’s!

PVs are usually carefully selected to show the best part in hope to convince people to throw the money at them, right? 💴 The Kuromyu 2021 PV was really showing the best parts without plot-consequential spoilers. None of the most awful scenes were in the PV.

Click here for all official Kuromyu 2021 PVs.

Tateishi explicitly said the following in this interview.

Host: ーーThis is the role that has been played by Mr. Matsushita Yuya and Mr. Furukawa Yuta until now. What are your thoughts about succeeding them as “the third generation”?

Tateishi: “During the rehearsal period I turned how fast I could absorb this role into my own body into a game. Even though there were limitations on how much time we had for rehearsals and how much we could communicate under of the corona virus measures, I wanted to do everything I could. For that purpose, it was necessary for me to know how the people who built this [role] until now played [Sebas], after all. Even though both Mr. Matsushita and Mr. Furukawa faithfully represented the Sebastian of the original manga, they also showed themselves as actors. While carefully learning from the Sebastian portrayed by those two, I also need to show my own interpretation, and the significance of playing [Sebas] by the [start] of the actual show. I want to present the world view of the “Kuromyu” loved by the many people in this new Kuromyu properly.”

Host: ーーAbout your role of Sebastian Michaelis , what kind of character do you think he is?

Tateishi: “He is omnipotent, is cool and has his gaps. Including his roots of being a demon he can be described using one word: “sneaky“ (laughs). While I’m reading the original comics and watching the anime, I started from how he moves as a butler, and explore what he’s like as a demon. Of course the way he speaks and his posture included. At the base I want to have his calm tone, and show this part that it’s reversely creepy “should he laugh.”

There are more asks about the reaction of the JP fandom, so I shall only be posting this one here, sorry other Anons (≽△≼)

【Edit:】I compiled a few JP reactions here in this post.There are positive ones, neutral ones and negative ones of course, but overall it seems overwhelmingly negative.

.......it was supposed to be this scene ⇊, but this Myu!Ciel ⇈ is wearing the eyepatch, so it must be Our!Ciel....

I also don’t know why that scene was necessary, not even through context of having I watched the full musical. I think it was just a desperate attempt to pander to Undertaker fans, because as everyone who’s read the manga knows, Undertaker’s role in this arc is pathetically small.

A.....4/10 I guess.

The song is called “perfect black” I think. It doesn’t sound bad, just very unimpressive. I just have the feeling that this sequence doesn’t really fit the atmosphere of the contract scene well because it is very rushed.

The total sequence was about 7 minutes, and here Sebas is summoned, frees Ciel, discuss all the contract terms, kills all cult members, Ciel returns to his normal attire, Sebas and Ciel get their character exposition of what the Watchdog is, Sebas is expositioned as the omnipotent demon butler, there is a recap of the mafia arc, Lycoris, Circus and Campania, Sebas defeats Undertaker, and swears loyalty to Ciel. Yes. ALL that happened in ONE SONG.

Something else that made me give this such a low rating is because it was basically a love-letter from the lyricists/songwriters to these characters. Sebas is constantly describing himself as one hell of an omnipotent butler who is “the perfect black”, and the entire sequence was just showing off how perfect he is....realllly boring. The music and atmosphere also don’t really give this ominous feeling that Kuro is supposed to have.

Past “Contract” scenes

I don’t like “The Most Beautiful Death in the World”, but “Contract” was memorable and impressive. At the time the writers didn’t know better so it’s in retrospect out of character. BUT, there was this silently approaching shadow that almost symbolised Ciel’s chance of being reborn into a much darker version of himself. It worked at the time, and it still works for people who didn’t read the manga.

Lycoris’ “contract” song was kindaaaa terrible because it sounded like a mashed together product and the lyrics were ABOMINABLE. HOWEVER, when performed well it was the first “contract” song that reflected the energy of Sebas’ summoning. Sebas ain’t some charming vampire to the rescue; he’s a drab of dark that’s gonna fucking devour a child, but he’s the best Ciel has got. It conveyed the characters properly at least.

Circus was a blast. The lyrics were retroactively inserted into the manga by Yana after watching that. The song was good, the atmosphere was loyal to Yana’s world, and that demonic scream of Sebastian at the end, easily one of the most memorable moments of ALL of Kuromyu.

Campania didn’t have a contract song, but DAYUM was that performance memorable ughghghgh 💖

The opening and ending of Kuromyu 2021 both focus on Sebas and Ciel indeed. The opening is as you can see in the PV, the forming of the contract which was in song. The ending however does not have a song unlike all past Kuromyus.

The instrumentals of the opening song was played (at least... that’s what I think it was), and the last line spoken is Sebas going: “Well then, I will be baking you a super sweet cake!”

Vincent and Deidrich don’t have an appearance in the musical, they were only mentioned in the exposition that there was once a Blue Miracle.

The best scene was Derek’s appearance! His actor did such a good job at portraying a “normal” boy who just had something REALLY off-putting about him, but until he revealed himself as the zombie, you just couldn’t quit explain what’s so wrong about him. Amazing.

The worst............. oh gosh don’t make me CHOOSE. Erm.... either the Harcourt getting diarrhea and sounded like a screaming pig.... or the unnecessary SebaCiel shoe-horning........or any of the MIND NUMBING expositions that were just repeating themselves or just straight up unnecessary. I guess the first two candidates are marginally worse... because they just made me want to run away in discomfort. The mind numbing exposition were just boring, but you could space out for a bit.

Full review Kuromyu 2021 - First day performance 05-03-2021 Live Stream, Ticket, and Proxy Service

Official PVs of Kuromyu 2021

Tateishi Toshiki (New Sebastian) at Academy Night G.

Full cast 2021 names

Full cast 2021 visuals

Kuromyu 2021 asks

#Kuromyu #Kuromyu 2021 #Q&A #You asked!!!!! You asked for this

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empathisex · 4 years

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Cheating Prank! (Bakugou x GN!Reader)

Notice: You and Bakugou are in your twenties, he’s the pro hero: Ground Zero. You decide to be a bit rebellious since you both have a famous YouTube channel! lol that’s about it. Enjoy this! <3

• Today, you decide to pull a prank on your husband, Bakugou! Great idea right? Right..? Not. You want to have some fun meaning you want to come up with some tricks. Even though you’re risking your twos place getting blasted into oblivion. Why not take the chances?

• You already know, Katsuki isn’t the one for pranks/tricks. He has an extremely bad temper, he can’t contain his anger when you do such foolishness. You have only did minor pranks on him such as, putting different foods on his face while he’s sleeping, ignoring him, etc.

• But this prank you were about to pull off was about to be extreme, you can already imagine his reaction in your head, him screaming your name out loud, noisy explosions coming from both of his hands. It was almost like you could see the smoke coming out his ears, his teeth grinding together too. It did terrify you, but you made you giggle intensely.

• Plus, you and Bakugou have a YouTube channel, his old classmates recommended to you, they notice you weren’t intimate with Bakugou at the time. Now with almost to 1 million subs since you both have some sort of fame and popularity, why not spice things up a notch. Give your viewers a show!

• Katsuki hasn’t come home from hero work yet, so you take your chances heading over to your guys master bedroom grabbing a small camera from a drawer filled with items Katsuki’s has given you in the past. Rings, Jewels, even a necklace with your intintal and his. He spoils you of course, he’s your everything.

• With a soft smile you come to remembrance to set up the room with red and purples lights, some candles on the counters, and a nice rope around you to set up the mood. Now, how can you make it seem that a person was here? You knew Deku closely, he gave you advice on how to deal with Bakugou. But you rather not see that outcome...

• Boxes and a wig! Rummaging through the closet, you find about three shoe boxes, a green wig that looks similar to Midoriya’s hair that you wore for a costume party, you pull the wide sheets off the mattress, placing the boxes vertical the wig resting half on the box and the pillow.

• You couldn’t help but laugh while pulling the covers up, grabbing some cologne Katsuki used to put on spraying the bottle profusely around the side with the boxes. You totally forgot how strong the scent was, it made you let a few coughs as you shook your head.

• Later on, you sprayed it on the couch, leaving your undergarments on the couch and a pair of limited edition All Might boxers Deku probably would wear, you placed a alcohol bottle on the coffee table, leaving a second camera around the kitchen area, rushing over to the bed again.

• You started the camera, letting it face your way. You fixed yourself puffing but letting out a cheerful expression, “Hey everyone! And welcome back to our channel, um..I know it’s been a while that me and Katsuki have updated but I felt we should do a special just for y’all!” You winked at the camera giving a small finger gun.

• “Katsuki is on his way back home, and I’m doing a small prank on him, I set everything up so let’s see how he- Oh! I placed another camera in the kitchen so you could see his full reaction! Let’s see what he does!” You cheered as you set the camera where he possibly wouldn’t see. Looking at the window, you saw Bakugou coming towards the enterance of your home, he honestly looked exhausted, truly you realized he wanted to see you. Welp.. that won’t be the case. You slowly mouthed, he’s coming while running to the door locking it.

• Plopping yourself on the bed you could start to feel your nerves overwhelm you, but you leave that to the side grabbing your phone turning on some slow jams. Then overhearing the door open, that was your cue to start..to make Bakugou lose his mind.

• First, you began rocking your hips imagining Bakugou grinding his heat against your body. You jumped up and down in excitement even in thought of it making the bed creak, it made you let out a few soft moans, you giggled therefore you let out more thinking of Bakugou kissing your neck, his big hands all over your body exploring you, his fresh breath breezing in your ear.

• “Oi..cute face..where are you? God..I know you like pulling your stupid tricks on me but come on.” He sighed in exhaustion, not even realizing what was in front on him. However his quick instinct caught onto him, your precious underwear? The scent of cologne? All Might Boxers? Something fishy was up.

• You continued each time you got louder hoping that Bakugou would catch on and make this prank be a success. You kept moaning, letting out whimpers and whines like you were begging for him to fuck you. You purred like a kitten as you bit your lip. At some point, your moans became louder than the music.

• And you were exactly right, he caught out quite fast than you expected, he clenched onto the front doorknob trying his best to justify what was going on. His lover cheating on him while he was doing hero work..no way. He slammed the door shut, walking over to the bedroom door you were in. That definitely caught on you by surprise which made you gulp.

• Bakugou instantly started banging on the door, he didn’t want to blast the door down knowing you’ll get mad at him so he decided to be patient. Calling your names a bunch of him you let out, “Ohh, fuck! You’re so much better than my husband! Mm!” Which completely set him off.

• “[NAME] WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN THERE? OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!” He kept banging trying his best not leaving a dent in the door. This made you stop the music making you gasp. “Oh my gosh..” You whispered looking over at the camera covering your mouth.

• “Damn it..go hide, Izuku..go hide..” You say a little louder, making Bakugou lose his marbles again. “DEKU IS IN MY HOUSE?! YOU CAN’T BE-“ He stepped away from the door raising his hand, releasing small explosions (crackle, pop!). He started kicking the door with full force.

• “[NAME] OPEN THIS GODDAM DOOR BEFORE YOU END UP DYING WITH HIM! YOU LET THIS PIECE OF SHIT IN OUR HOUSE?!” He yelled still kicking more, you rushed over to the closet acting like you were getting some new clothes to change to.

• “Baby, I’m changing! Stop, before you break down the door!” You huffed still holding in your laughs and chuckles. “YOU GOT A WHOLE FUCKER IN THE HOUSE AND YOU EXPECT ME TO- SOMEBODY IS DYING TODAY! IVE BEEN WAITING TO KILL THIS LITTLE BITCH TOO!” He punched the door hard enough to make it bend as he shouted loudly. Shit shit shit! You grabbed a random chair from the corner of the room to hold the door up.

• “Babe..Deku came to chat on some things..it’s not what it seems I swear..” You tried to explain but Katsuki didn’t seem to listen to a word you had to say. He wanted Deku to die. “So Deku came to chat to you and all of sudden you’re..FUCKING MOANING YOUR ASS OFF! MUSIC BLASTING, WE DONT PLAY MUSIC WHEN WE DO IT! OPEN THIS DOOR!” His explosions were louder, he was raging at this point.

• “Katsuki..what the fuck, what’s your problem?” You rolled your eyes, disgusted by his choice of wording. “You probably were sucking that fucker off too..you little slut. You couldn’t wait until I came home couldn’t you. OPEN. THIS. DOOR.” His response completely caught you off guard, you glanced at the camera your eyes widening in shock.

• Maybe it was time for you to tell him it was a prank before he’ll fuck up everything in the house. You clench onto the robe letting out a sigh, unlocking the door searching for Bakugou, “For Gods sake Katsuki it was a pran-“

• He didn’t waste no time running into the bedroom punching the boxes and the pillow with the wig on to. Bakugou burnt the side of bed, you yelling at him to stop. He grinded his teeth staring at you, as you let out a burst of laughs.

• “Goddamit, [Name].” He grabbed the wig looking at it then at you. “You got me..I’ll get you back, watch idiot.” He stomped out as you continued onward with your laughs.

• You rushed to the camera, still laughing as you made your outro, “Welp, that prank was a successful on Bakugou, make sure you like share and subscribe if you want to see more pranks and content! [Name], signing off!” You turned off the camera with a smile.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #pranks #cheating prank #cheating #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #mha #bakugo katuski #mha x reader #mha headcanons #my hero x reader #hero academia

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

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The Lost Boys Find Out Their Fem!S/O is Pregnant [4/4]

SUBJECT WARNING: PHYSICAL AGRESSION, SEXUAL THEMES AND A WHOLE LOT OF SWEARING. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

Alrighty then, my lovely fang babes! Here we are, we have the last of the first edition of the pregnancy saga! Worry not, dearest readers, for there is hope! I plan on doing a separate series about going through the pregnancy, and maybe even going through the childbirth with how the boys are as new dads. Let me know in the comments if you'd like to see more, and by tomorrow night we'll have a whole new set to love!

It was such a blast writing Paul's, I'm not gonna lie I got lost in the magic! We have a cute little character cameo for all you 80s movie nerds, lemme know if you can figure out what it is! So, without any more delays; here he is. The gorgeous, the goofy, the one, the only:

PAUL

Today had been an unexpected challenge. You barely got through your shift at the record store, every time you were in light it made you dizzy. Hangovers had nothing on this! Did you drink too much the night before? No, now that you thought about it any attempts to drink had you hugging a toilet. Not to mention your period was late as hell! Well, not the cramps, go figure. Just no blood. None at all.

You never let on to your beau, Paul, though. The party boy vampire would become overly worried if you told him you were sick, and you weren't about to spoil a good time with a bit of nausea. So here you were, stumbling about the day into the late afternoon absolutely miserable. Your manager Iona offered you some crackers and ginger ale during your lunch break. No dice, within an hour you were running to the bathroom again.

"Gosh hon, I dunno what ta tell ya. Maybe you ate something nasty, I told you that boardwalk food was fishy," Iona sighed, poking at her own lunch with a fork. Currently your coworker Andie was watching the front until you were feeling better.

"Kill me now, Iona," you groaned, chin resting on the table with your arms laid over your head. Then there was a smell. The greatest, most flavorful, mouthwatering scent you've ever experienced. Like a honey baked ham and a New York sirloin had a glorious new baby drizzled in ecstasy. Glancing over, your stomach growled at whatever it could be. If this were a cartoon you'd be flying to what it was.

Oddly enough, it was coming from Iona. Well, whatever black stuff was in her little plastic tupperware dish. Who cares what it was, it smelled incredible.

"Hey uh..," you asked, leaning over towards the sticky, mysterious delicacy calling your name. "You wouldn't mind if I had a bite, would ya?"

"You sure, hon? This isn't exactly your average dish, it's kinda weird," she tried to explain. God you couldn't take your eyes off it! Finally, your merciful manager pushed it your way, and you couldn't resist any longer.

"I don't even care, this is the first thing in the past two days that hasn't made me nauseous," you muffled between cosmic bites.

Oh shit, this was heaven! It had to be some sort of meat, it reminded her of a nice spicy kielbasa, a slow roasted brisket, every second it changed to some new world of food you had never tried. What it was didn't matter by this point.

"Wooow. I've never met someone who liked black pudding that much."

Pudding? "I thought it was meat or something? It doesn't taste anything like pudding," you insisted, polishing off the very last specs of it. "Got any more?"

"No, no, not like chocolate pudding or stuff like that, kiddo. black pudding. It's this dish from the UK my new boyfriend made me. It's congealed pig's and cow blood mixed with spices."

You made a face. Blood? Like, blood blood? The cow equivalent of what Paul drank on a daily basis? Yet this was the first time you didn't puke, in fact, you kinda wanted more. Even knowing what is was made of.. for some reason you craved more. Meanwhile Iona continued to talk on and on, until one phrase caught your ears. "Yea, ya know my mom was so into for the longest time. Said she craved it her whole pregnancy, I never got a taste for it honestly."

A single thought popped into your head. A dangerous, foreboding thought that your intuition said was very much a possibility. In a flash you jumped up, nearly slamming your hands on the table. "I gotta go. Oh shit, I gotta go! I'll be right back, I swear, I'm so sorry, I swear to god I'll be right back," you shouted as you bolted out of the store.

"Wait what-?!"

You'd make it up to her once you got back. You had to know! You had to be sure..! Please just let it be paranoia! Please let it be anything, anything at all besides what you thought it was!

Once you reached the nearest CVS you made a B-line to the women's health section. Your hair clung to your face, your lungs stung like crazy but all you could think about was getting answers. And cue the disapproving glare of some old bat picking out a box of pads. Alright being 17 in front of the pregnancy tests looked bad. You weren't just a high schooler, you looked it too. "What're you looking at, " you snarl. Immediately she clutched her pearls, startled by this abrasive youngin' in no mood for dirty looks. God why'd there have to be so many options? Pink boxes, purple ones, bright yellow insisting it worked the fastest. The heavy fluorescent lights were no help at all, it made your head spin. You had no time for this crap. In a sweeping motion you grabbed three different brands and threw them into your basket, all you needed was….where was your wallet? Shit... Glancing around you checked for any nearby cameras or staff. Karma be damned, it was an emergency! Five finger discount it was.

Once again you made a mad dash back to the record store as the sun finally set. All three boxes were crumpled in your hand, your boots running so fast it you hit a rock that'd be it.

But getting back to the record store was your best bet. You weren't about to pee in some dirty, old, nasty pharmacy bathroo- oh fuck. There was something that finally slowed your steps, nearly making you trip in the process. Four bikes parked right outside. Three of which were occupied by by Dwayne, David and Marko all talking amongst themselves.

Shiiiit, shit, shit! All you could do was swear repeatedly. Before they could spot you, you practically dove into the alleyway behind the store, rapidly disabling the alarm. If that went off it'd be a dead giveaway. Quickly you looked left and right before you slammed the door shut behind you still trying to catch air.

But there, right past the door to the employees lounge, over by the counter you could see a mass of blonde hair chatting away with Iona about Led Zeppelin's best album to date. Paul, gorgeous as every, laughing. It made your heart flutter, but then it sank. What if it was a-... He was never the type to run away from a challenge. But then again, a kid wasn't a challenge, it was a massive ordeal. It would take a huge chunk of his life- well, afterlife! Boozing and cruising would be switched out with drowsy days and busy nights. You weren't sure if you wanted him to know if you were, it would take all that from him. Unfortunately, he must've smelled you or sonething, because immediately he turned around like a puppy being called.

"Babe," he cheered with delight, rushing over to hug you. Rather squeeze you by your hips and lift you four feet off the ground. Quickly you stuffed the skinny boxes into your back pocket, now smushed up against his chest. "Where were you? Ion's said you just bolted mid-shift, we were worried sick! Well, I mean, I was more worried though, cuz I can't stand you bein' gone, kitten."

"Well, yeah uh, I forgot something I had to get at the store, and I forgot what time I got off," you hesitated, still antsy to escape to the bathroom. Truthfully you didn't actually want to, you had to! If you could, you'd just kiss him and ride off into the night to raise some hell like you always did. But this was too big to ignore.

Paul raised a brow. You weren't known for being this jumpy. You wouldn't look him in the eyes, they just kept darting towards the bathroom. Boy, you really did look sick, though. Pale, almost greenish with dark circles under your eyes. You even felt colder than usual. "Am I uh, interrupting something, babe?"

You managed to work out if his arms, giggling nervously. "Actually I-I had some of Iona's lunch earlier, and I just, gotta- be right back!"

With that, you bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. Again, weird. Paul just shrugged, maybe you had some bad Mexican.

Iona wasn't convinced. Little miss jumpy-pants skipping out on her, you owed her an explanation. While Paul perused the albums she sunk over to the bathroom, rapidly tapping on the door. "Y/N! Psst! You good in there, hon?"

You were most certainly NOT good! Your hand shook, the third test finally finished. Not like it mattered! They all said the same thing. Every fucking one of them.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

No, no, no!

"Shit," you hissed. "Shit! Oh shit, oh fuck! Fuck-fuckity shit fuck fuck! Dammit." That's all you could do! You swore over, and over, and over, rapidly kicking the wall in front of you. Stupid pink plus! Why? Why did it have to be a plus?? Immediately you threw it in the trash and scooped up the other two. Maybe they were all flukes? Maybe only a doctor could tell you! You had to get home. Like now. Right now, you just had to rush home, make an appointment at the doctors, maybe hide in shame for a few days just until you could figure out what the hell to do with all this! Once again you wedged the tests in your back pocket and nearly tripped, cracking open the door to face your boss. "Iona, I gotta get home."

"Seriously, Y/N?? Why? What is with you?"

"Please, I swear I will make it up to you, I'll take a double shift, I'll wash your damn car-"

"Oh no, nuh-uh. Not until you tell me why you're being such a spaz," she practically shouted in a hissing whisper, absolutely exasperated. You teens and your drama, when she always said she wanted to fell young again this is NOT what she meant!

"Listen i-... iyay amyay egnantpray," you whispered. Pig latin. It was a little code you two usually reserved for secrets. Well, that and talking smack about snotty customers. But wow was this a big ol' secret.

Iona covered her mouth. Oh, you little idiot! You poor little idiot. Looking over at the unsuspecting boyfriend she sighed, looking you in the eyes. She wanted to just tell you to come clean to your man. The boy hung around you constantly, you two were the ultimate it-couple, there wasn't even sparks it was like watching supernovas. Something this big.. it shouldn't be left in the dark!

But that pitiful expression on your face just begged her to keep quiet, and frankly it wasn't her place to tell you what to do- well, at least in this regard. "Alright, alright. This saturday you're taking my night time shift, there's a big concert I wanna go to. And you gotta wax my car, it's gettin' nasty. And you better write the best damn apology note in the history of apology notes, sweetie. This is huge, you better come clean to him eventually, or I'll kick your little butt you hear me?"

"Yes. Absolutely, fine, deal. Just please, please keep him busy, I'm not ready to tell him," you whined, clutching the door. Frankly it sounded like a piss poor plan, but it couldn't be helped, not right now at least. You didn't have the strength to confront the situation head on, you were barely keeping it together. You wanted to cry all over, jump into his arms and come clean now, but this was neither the time or place.

As soon as Iona went to go over to Paul you stuffed the tests into your purse and bolted out the back door, only this time stealth was not on your side. Right at the mouth of the alleyway, just as you were about to be home free- you ran smack dab into a particularly lithe blonde that felt like a brick wall. You went flying onto the ground, your purse crashing onto concrete with a hundred pieces of your privacy going every direction. In a panic you began to rapidly stuff it all back, barely able to hide the first two tests as you threw some half baked apology Marko's way. Honestly he deserved a better one than that, but you were too frazzled to be fair at the moment.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Marko exclaimed, immediately kneeling down to help you gather the scattered remains of your purse. "Sorry, I didn't even see you, I was coming back for a smoke. Big Ed is such a douche, can you believe theres no smoking on the-..." His words trailed off, and you shortly saw why. Grasped between his pointer finger and thumb was the little pink strip, and a look of complete disbelief. All you could do was snatch it from him, a heavy moment of silence magically muffling the wild noise and shouts of the busy boardwalk.

"Do...D-Don't worry about it. Look, I gotta get home, I'll see you arou-," you started, trying to jump up, maybe catch him off guard and make a run for it. Not this time.

You hadn't even noticed he grabbed your wrist, it was such a blur. He stayed silent, standing up and looking right into your eyes with hidden malcontent. You swore if you answered wrong this mischievous cat would tear your throat out. After all, you were his best friend's girl. If you did anything, ANYTHING, to hurt him... Well, let's just say a pregnancy would be the least of your worries. "Why are you running, Y/N? What the hell is this thing," he asked quietly, eyes flickering between red and blue. "Did you…?"

"Oh don't fuckin' even," You snapped, smacking his arm, yanking your hand out of his grasp. "Of course not! You butt! God, are you serious? What do you take me for- No! I- fuck I just- no!" You kick the tin trash can beside you, watching a plethora of trash fly into the air. "I am freaking out! Of course it's Paul's. Oh fucking god, it's Paul's and I don't know what to do!"

Marko's expression softened, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I didn't mean to make it sound like that, Y/N. Paul's my friend, I just had to be sure you weren't sneaking around, you know?"

You sighed, pushing back your mess of a hair with misty eyes. This was perfect, a real big screw up from start to finish. All you could do was look over at Marko with pleading eyes. "You can't tell him yet. Please, just please please PLEASE, Marko, don't tell Paul yet!"

"Tell me what, babe?"

Shit. Shit on a stick. You looked behind to see Paul halfway out the back door with a look of concern, one that he rarely carried. You and your dumb mouth, go figure.

The blonde pushed through and let the door close behind him, looking over at his best bud standing alone with his girlfriend who was begging him to keep something secret, from him no less.

"Marko?"

"Nah, nah, don't look at me man, this is all on you guys," he sighed, hands up in a shielding motion. "Good luck buddy. Gotta go, Y/N." with that the young vampire excused himself from this melting pot of drama, hands stuffed in his pockets.

You just stood there, keeping the little strip tightly grasped behind your back. Paul was silent, but glancing at his hands you saw they were balled so tight his knuckles were white. "P-paul…," you hesitated, biting down on your bottom lip. "I should really… get home.."

Paul only raised a brow, glancing at your arms still tucked behind you. This wasn't like you to hide from him, and that alone frightened him. Nothing had ever frightened him before. And he didn't like the taste of it one bit. "What's behind your back, babe?"

"What?"

Again his spoke, this time his voice lowered into a low growl. "What... do you have... behind your back, babe?" The way he said it was so firm, it made you shake a little. You didn't like stern Paul. They way he hissed the word "babe", practically spoken through clenched teeth

Your throat ached, eyes darting across the ground struggling to think up a good excuse. Anything. A book, your purse, a surprise for him! Anything!

"N-nothing." Apparently, you failed to find any excuses. Great.

Paul's knuckles began to crack, jumping forward to try and snatch it from behind you. When you dodged him, he grew even more furious. You both began to struggle, pushing him away, insisting he just stop and let you leave. But every attempt to reject him only upset him further. Why were you hiding things from him?! How could you just ditch him at the record store when he was worried sick about you??

The struggle built up until finally he had enough. His eyes turned white with rings of fire, brow looming heavily over his eyes and fangs jutting out where his incisors once were. In a flash he grabbed you by you wrists, pinning you so hard to the wall it shook. You still tried to struggle. Thrash, kick, squirm! Steel wished it could be so strong, your muscles ached. This probably wasn't even his full strength, but it dwarfed you in comparison. This terrifying side of Paul you had certainly seen before, but never had you been on the receiving end. It was in all sense of the word, predatorial. He'd never try to kill you, but you still felt that horror build up inside. Rapid, sharp breaths made your chest heave, too afraid to look up at those red eyes still fixated on whatever you kept hidden from him. He continued to pry your stubborn fingers open, ignoring your shaking whimpers. He squoze your wrist, the tendons aching and contracting until your fingertips began to lift up. Any resistance was pretty much useless at this point, but dammit you still tried everything to worm out of his grip. But he had finally had it, you weren't gonna be keeping secrets from him. Now your last finger was pushed off, and he could see what was so damn important that you physically fought him to keep it secret. It was almost slow motion the way the strip spun to the ground, clattering down and landing beside his mud caked boots. He froze, slowly looking down at it. That's it? That's all you-...

You could barely read his face, so many different emotions flashing across it all at once. Occasionally he'd look back up at you, then back down at it. To the point you almost got annoyed that you were still being stuck to a wall while the reality set in. After all, it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what that was, just put you down already!

Paul looked at you still pinned beneath him, horrified at how he lost his temper and immediately released you. Still rubbing away the pain across your wrists, you watched him pick it up. A wave of guilt swarmed your body, you didn't know whether to hug him or punt him in the chest.

Hell, a massive tidal wave of guilt overflowed him too. It'd been such a long time since he got that angry.. but worst of all he'd never been like that with you. Never grabbed you so forcefully and ignored your pleas, it was a dark side of him he never wanted to display in front of you. Glancing at the little pink plus at the end of the stick, his mind swirled with a plethora of questions. But slowly he stood up, looking down at you still really trying to process everything that had happened in the past few minutes. "I don't… I don't understand.."

"You- You are such an ass," you shouted out of nowhere, enough that it made him jump. There you were. That's the fiery girl he knew, not the one he exactly wanted to be on the opposing side of at the moment, though.

Paul wasn't surprised you were pissed, but he definitely didn't expect you to start punching his arm. Again. Then again, and again you just kept hiting his arms, his chest, pushing and crying, you were so mad you wanted to chuck him in the ocean! It didn't really hurt that much, but he felt awful he drove you to that point.

Tears blurred your vision as you lashed out on him. All you could do was yell names between sobs, even whack him with your purse. "Paul, you absolute jerk! Butt! Jackass! You smarmy, half wit, blood-sucking tool! You said you were packing blanks, you absolute liar! I was gonna tell yo-! I mean, I know I shouldn't have run-! But you just couldn't wait- and then Marko- and you! You ! Jerk ! Butthead !"

"Hey, ow! Ow! Ow, dammit! I know, I know I went to far-ow not the hair dammit," he demanded, grabbing your arms before you could lay another mighty blow. "Babe! Babe, stop! I thought I was! I swear I didn't know- I-..I never thought that I could get you...." His hands slowly released your shoulders, moving to your hips. "I'm so sorry, baby. I swear, I didn't know.. I'm so sorry."

The way his voice softened only made you want to cry more. This whole day was a mess. You didn't mean to try and run.. You never should've tried to in the first place. God, you were so tired. All this running around, all this secrecy, the fighting, it was exhausting. Paul was the last person you wanted to fight. Sure you had spats and a few heated arguments. Every couple did, even vampires. But this, it was just so.m draining. With a firm thud you plopped your forehead on his sternum, your fingers tightly clinging to the upper sleeves of his jacket. "Wh-what am I supposed to do-… what are we supposed to do now..?"

Paul pondered his options with a solemn face, but there was only one that made him happy. Only one that sat right in his heart. What else could he possibly do, there was only ever going to be one answer even if you told him right away. Most of all, he couldn't stand the sorrow in your eyes. A frown never suited such a beautiful face. He never expected there to be anything to come from your heavy sexcapades, it never seemed like there was any risks in it. He'd never seen a vampire munchkin, least of all he'd never even heard of a vamp conceiving with a human. All he knew now is you, crying in his arms, terrified of what you were carrying. What it could mean. In that moment, he steeled his resolve and came to a final decision.

Silently he tilted your chin up, using his thumb to brush away all those tears staining your cheeks. Those blue eyes, you could get lost in them. Swallowed up by the sea. It wasn't hard to read his mind when he held onto your hip with one hand, while the other that pushed away salty droplets now cupped your cheek. Within moments you crashed your mouth into his, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

Warm. A surge of heat filled your body. It was the first time you felt truly alive all day. You could feel your chest heave against his, you didn't want any space between the two of you and only pressed tighter until there wasn't anything left. Each kiss gave momentary breath before you dove in for more. Neither of you could stop. You didn't want to pull away, not even for a split second. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he touched you, the way he felt beneath your fingers; it made your head spin. His hands began to wander, you clutched at anything you could get a hold of. Your body burned, so sweet and long. In those moments the world stopped, it just melted away in streams of light. No one was there but you two.

It was over too soon, both of you rapidly panting for breath still intertwined. Oh, how you could stare into his eyes forever.

That frown was long gone, replaced by a tender smile. The one he had come to cherish. Paul chuckled softly, breathlessly nuzzling against your collar bone. Slowly he leaned in close to your ear, his disheveled blonde hair brushing up against your cheeks. Lips trailed up flesh, reavhing just beneath your ear. And then you heard those three forbidden words. Such sweet, tender words, you hadn't expected him to say. Although he whispered them so softly they might have gotten lost in the wind, to you they were as clear as the moon on a cloudless night.

"Y/N.... I love you."

It made your heart throb, you thought you might even faint. A lifetime of struggles led up to this beautiful moment. You never expected it to be a half-undressed heavy make out session with your vampire lover, the father of your unborn spawn, in the back alley of a record store on the Santa Carla Boardwalk. But here you were, nestled between him and an old brick wall. Paul loved you, he had said it, he finally said those words that could destroy any doubt you had. And more than anything in the whole wide world, you knew once and for all, you loved Paul.

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vixensheart · 5 years

Text

Silence

Izuku was having a bad day.

Well, okay, maybe bad was a bit of a stretch. Hectic. He’d had a hectic day. In which he nearly woke up late, saved only by Aoyama tapping on his door with a french quip he didn’t quite catch. His alarm? Out of battery.

And yes, Izuku used an alarm that wasn’t his phone. It was the one he’d had as a kid, okay? A limited edition All Might alarm. His mom had gotten that for his fourth birthday, and well. He’d used it ever since.

Until the batteries decided to die on him, anyway.

Then he got lost in a muttering storm at least ten times during classes, today, because apparently his hyper focusing self was very active today, and the hero course was an absolute mess. They had a rescue exercise that Izuku nearly bombed because of course, Aizawa-sensei decided to pair him with Bakugou- who had to argue about every little detail because it wouldn’t be Bakugou otherwise. Like, Bakugou was doing leaps and bounds better than first year, by a long shot. The two could at least work together without punches getting thrown, anyway.

But that didn’t mean things were perfect. Plus, Bakugou was always out of his comfort zone in situations he couldn’t blast his way out, and their rescue exercise was very anti-explosion.

So yeah. Izuku has had a day.

And Izuku had made the mistake of signing up for a late evening patrol; part of his internship, of course. Which normally wouldn’t be an issue. Most of the time, evening patrols were nice. There weren't too many villains out and about at that time, surprisingly. Well. Normally.

It seemed like today wanted to defy all sense of normality Izuku had. Including throwing in a low level villain robbing a bank.

One minute Izuku was strolling alongside Burnin, the next, the storefront of a small bank literally exploded in an array of glass, brick, and mortar. Izuku threw his arms up to protect his face, a grimace twisting into his features.

Damn.

Immediately, Full Cowling crackled to life, its energy thrumming through him like a live wire. Izuku caught sight of the villain tumbling into the street, a tote bag of money clasped in their grasp. He was off in an instant, wind whipping through his hair as he bounced from the sidewalk to the mortar building beside him and ricocheted through the air. Black Whip crackled to life, and Izuku flicked his wrist and directed the whiplike energy to wrap around the stoplight pole. Momentum carried him around, swinging, and he kicked out and sent the villain flying back.

The tote flew from their grasp, and they smacked the pavement with a cry. Izuku released his hold on Black Whip and landed on his feet, pulling the quirk suppressing handcuffs from his belt as he jogged to the now crumpled form in the middle of the street.

Oof. He hoped they were alright...he definitely didn’t mean to kick quite so hard. Izuku stooped over, handcuffs dangling from his hands as he peered down at his quarry. Whoever they were, they weren’t very strong if this took them down as easily as it did. They hadn’t even used their quirk. Still, Izuku couldn’t help the twinge of guilt. “Are you alright?” he asked. The villain’s eyes flew open, and they squawked, scrambling to their feet. Izuku lurched forward, attempting to tackle them back down. “Wait, stop!”

A bright light burned at his eyes, and Izuku fell back with a yelp. Or. Tried to. And though he felt his throat constrict with an undignified squeak, Izuku couldn’t quite hear it. But his eyes stung, the oversensitivity of the bright light at the forefront of his focus as he clasped his face with his hands. Dammit.

There was a scuffle, and seconds later, Izuku blinked his eyes open again to see Burnin handcuffing the perp with a manic grin rivalling Bakugou slashing across her features. Izuku huffed, a wave of embarrassment rolling through him. Well. At least the villain was in custody.

“Are you alright?”

Izuku whipped his gaze up to his right, where a police officer peered down at him. He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. Wow, this was really embarrassing. What a rookie move. He opened his mouth to reaffirm that yes, he was fine, when nothing came out.

Nothing at all.

Izuku was having a bad day.

It turned out the villain’s quirk was called Silence; it could temporarily disable the voice of anyone it was directed at. And Izuku, being the unlucky person he was, got blasted with it hard. And now he couldn’t talk. At all. His debrief took a whole hour longer because of it, as it took a good twenty minutes for everyone to figure out something had even happened and that Izuku wasn’t being coy.

During his debrief, the police were kind enough to pull the villain’s file and explain the quirk to him, after he wrestled a pad of paper and a pen out of them and scribbled a demand for such. Apparently, the quirk lasted anywhere from a few hours to a few days, depending on the strength of the blast. Since Izuku got blasted by the beam directly, they figured it would probably be a few days, moreso.

Izuku sighed. He was tired, and sad. This day sucked a lot, and he really wasn’t looking forward to explaining his rookie mistake to his classmates, who were sure to pick up on the issue immediately.

His classmates had definitely become like a family to him, and Izuku loved them dearly, but. They were exceptionally nosy, at the best of times. Izuku sighed again and shouldered his bag. Well, here went nothing. He pushed his way into Heights Alliance, the warmth and sounds of his home away from home washing over him.

“Get the fuck off of me, Pickachu!”

“But, I’m not even touching you!”

“Are fucking too!”

“Please refrain from yelling, we are trying to have a tutoring session!”

From the doorway, Izuku can see Iida chopping his arm towards the couches, glasses glinting in the low lighting. He hovered near the tables, where books and papers were scattered about. Yaoyorozu, Ashido, Hagakure, and Asui were all sitting amidst the study materials, some sighing and others snickering.

“Fuck you, I can yell all I damn want!” Bakugou snaps, leering over the couch. His usual sneer was stamped onto his features, as feral as ever. Loud pops rang out into the space, and sparks floated up from his palms.

“Dude, chill,” Kirishima said, pressing a hand to his shoulder. Izuku watched in odd fascination as Bakugou’s sneer froze, scrunching into something akin to shock, and then solidifying into a forced indifference that had Izuku’s brows raising. He grumbled and turned, dropping back into his seat beside Kirishima, who seemed somewhat bemused. Kirishima’s gaze met Izuku’s, then, and he beamed his sharp smile. “Midoriya, man, hey! We were wondering where you were!”

And just like that, the room’s attention was on him. Izuku bit his lip and waved. Dread coiled in his gut, sudden, and he nearly tripped as he made his way to Iida. He fumbled for the folded up paper in his pocket. Lord, this was embarrassing. He smiled, face warm, as he handed his baffled friend a creased paper with shaking hands.

“Midoriya, what is this?” Iida asked. He plucked the paper from Izuku slowly, hilt titling as he reached up to adjust his glasses. Izuku sucked in a breath and gestured to the paper. Iida frowned. “You are being rather cryptic.”

Izuku frowned. He wasn’t trying to be! It was sort of hard when his voice just wouldn’t work. A huff bubbled past his lips, and Izuku pointed at the paper again. He’d taken the time to write his embarrassing predicament out, and it was not a fun thing to write down; Izuku felt like an idiot still, hours later. So, the sooner Iida could read the paper, the sooner he could go to his room and collapse on his bed and forget today ever even happened.

Iida just blinked at him, brows furrowed in the way they do when Iida was perplexed by something one of their classmates did or said, and he looked down at the paper clasped delicately in his fingertips. “Do you need help with something?”

Izuku resisted the urge to smack his forehead. Iida, please. Izuku loved his friend, dearly, but Iida could just be so painfully dense. He shook his head, and pointed at the paper again. And again, when Iida’s brows just furrowed more. Please just read the paper! Izuku wanted to say, but his voice was down for the count.

“I think he wants you to read the paper,” Yaoyorozu said, her curt voice puzzled. Izuku wanted to die with gratitude. Yes, that was exactly what he wanted. He nodded frantically at Iida, who was still staring at him with a level of concern that was almost smothering.

“What paper?” Uraraka’s voice carried across the common room, and Izuku found himself turning to peer owlishly at his friend. She strode towards him, a protein bar in her grasp. That warm ochre gaze enveloped him like a heated blanket, and Iuzku felt the tension of the day ease out of him. Uraraka tended to have that effect on him. Why, Izuku didn’t really know, but he welcomed the feeling of relief and comfort that blanketed him just from her presence.

Uraraka looked from him to Iida, and down to the paper still in their friend’s grasp. She reached over and tugged it free, sticking her protein bar in her mouth as she worked to unfold the paper and gave it a read. And oh, god. Izuku couldn’t help but fiddle with his hands as he watched. Oh, how he wanted to throw himself off the roof. Shame burned him inside out, and Izuku felt hot all over. He gulped, watching Uraraka through his bangs. Her expression went from intrigue, to concern, and Uraraka ripped her bar from her mouth with a gasp. “Oh, gosh, really, Deku-kun?”

He winced and nodded.

“Gosh, Deku!” She’d dropped her protein bar and the paper, now, and was clasping her face, pinkies raised, eyes wide with worry. Their other classmates’ attention was now zeroed in on them, too, and Izuku shrunk under the scrutiny.

“What’s wrong?” Yaoyorozu asked. “Is he hurt? Do we need Recovery Girl?”

Uraraka shook her head and sighed. “No, he says that he got hit by a quirk while out patrolling for his internship. His voice is gone for the next few days.”

There was a beat, as everyone absorbed the information. Then, chaos ensued.

“Oh, gosh, that’s awful!”

“Midoriya, what happened? You weren’t hurt again, were you?”

“Ha! Damn nerd, how stupid can ya’ be?”

“Hush, Bakugou. Don’t forget about what happened last week.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Wait, what if his voice is gone forever!”

“‘Chako just said it’ll wear off in a few days, kero.”

“Guys, please!” Uraraka cried. The noise ceased, everyone’s gazes whipping to their exasperated friend. She rubbed at her temple, lips pursed in a frown. “Deku-kun has clearly had a stressful day. Can we just let it go? It’s getting late, anyway.”

“Of course, you’re right” Iida said. He turned his focus to Izuku, his sharp gaze scanning him over. “You are uninjured, though, yes?”

Izuku nodded. Yes, he was fine, missing voice aside. Just sore and incredibly tired. Not that he could say as much.

“Oh, here!” Yaoyorozu stood from her seat, leaning over and presenting a white board to him. “So you can at least communicate. I figure this will be easier than paper…”

He smiled at her.

“He says thank you, I think,” Uraraka said, smiling. Her gaze found his, and she lit up. “You know, I have some markers in my room. Let’s go grab them!” She nabbed his wrist and dragged him away from the chaos of the common room. Izuku gasped at the contact, face heating once again, albeit for slightly differing reasons, this time. He followed almost dumbly behind, clutching the white board to his chest, backpack thumping erratically against his back. His heart thumped erratically, too, and Izuku found his mind to be pleasantly blank.

Through the corridors and up the stairs they went. Uraraka seemed to not want to wait for an elevator, and Izuku was too distracted by warm fingers circling his wrist to object otherwise. Though, distantly, Izuku knew he couldn’t exactly object if he wanted to, save by ripping his arm free from her grasp. And for whatever reason, that idea did not appeal to him at all.

Uraraka let go of his arm once they reached her room, and she threw open her door and strode inside. Izuku found himself wavering, watching as she yanked open desk drawers and started rustling. Was it okay for him to step inside? Or was that rude? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t ask. So he lingered in the doorway, gaze zipping up down and all around, as Izuku didn’t know where to look.

She seemed to sense his hesitance, as her gaze jumped to him, and she said, “You can come inside, silly!”

Izuku gulped. Oh. Okay. He stepped inside her room, carefully shutting the door behind him. It clicked shut, the sound like a gong in Izuku’s ears. His body jolted, as if shocked by the sudden noise. He chewed his lip and turned, his gaze landing on Uraraka as she ruffled around. It took but a moment for her to find what she was looking for; she snatched it and popped upright with a cry. “Aha!” Uraraka whirled around, a bright smile lighting her features. She presented a handful of colored dry erase markers. Pink, green, orange, and blue. “Pick your favorite,” she said with a laugh. Her demeanor was infectious, and Izuku found his lips twitching up into a smile too. He reached over and gently plucked up the green marker, which had Uraraka letting out a giggle.

“Green’s your color, huh?”

He flushed, and shrugged, popping the cap off his marker.

Thank you, Uraraka-san.

Uraraka, for her part, flushed and waved him off. “No problem, Deku-kun.”

A silence filled between them. Then, “We um, still have some time before curfew. Would you maybe, wanna take a walk?” Uraraka’s gaze was anywhere but on him, and Izuku could have sworn her natural blush was darker than usual. He felt his heart stutter a bit in his chest- alone? With Uraraka? Lately, the thought had him feeling all fuzzy and weird inside. But hanging out with her was always so fun, so Izuku found himself nodding eagerly anyway.

Her smile was blinding. “Cool! Come on!” She snatched his hand in hers and led him back into the hall, her presence solid and comforting. No conversation flowed, but none needed to; being together was enough.

And Izuku was okay with that.

FIN

#izuocha #bnha #my hero academia #izuocha week 2020 #day three #silent night #my writing #adventures in writing

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aurantia-ignis · 5 years

Note

53 Bederia?

It was all because of that blasted photoshoot.

The day had started normally enough. With the Gym Circuit was currently closed, Bede spent the morning training in Ballonlea Gym. In the afternoon, he headed over to the Battle Tower in Wyndon for a quick sparring session.

Originally, Leon had requested it as a favour, to keep the wits of his tower trainers sharp, he said. But Bede found that he liked the chance to fight without the limits of the Fairy Gym, especially since it allowed him to use Reuniclus and Gothitelle again, so he started visiting at least once a month.

Today had been a good day, with him perfecting a new combination attack between Rapidash and Gothitelle. He cleared his battles, healed his Pokemon, and prepared to head back to Ballonlea for dinner.

Only to come dashing back through the staff entrance of the Battle Tower, because—-

“OVER THERE!! HE’S COMING OUT!!!“

"BEDE!! LEADER BEDE!!!”

“OH MY GOSH IT’S HIM!!”

“PLEASE CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH??"

"CAN I HAVE YOUR SHIRT??”

“LEADER BEDE!! MARRY ME!!!”

What was that crowd of girls screaming his name doing outside?

Bede knew he was fairly popular, enough to be recognised on the streets by aspiring trainers and gym challengers, or lovers of Fairy Pokemon. But this level of reaction was usually reserved for people like Leon, or Raihan, or Nessa.

Not him.

He ought to be flattered. But while a part of him did feel pleased, the other part had been stunned at the size of the crowd. The two seconds he spent at the door was enough for him to catch sight of a line of security guards struggling to keep them from rushing into the tower.

It was, frankly speaking, terrifying.

“Bede? Is… something wrong?”

Bede froze, then closed his eyes. Of course, she would be there today of all days. Slowly, he turned around.

Gloria was standing just outside the door to the ladies’ locker room. She was dressed in casual clothes, with a fluffy white sweater over her dress. Her soft brown hair looked damp, as if she had just come out of the shower.

His heart did that stupid jumping thing it always does nowadays at the sight of her. Angrily, Bede drew himself up and folded his arms.

“Oh, it’s… nothing. Just a group of enthusiastic fangirls,” he said with a careless laugh. “You know how it is. People are dazzled by our magnificent battle skills.”

“But… Wouldn’t they normally look for you at Ballonlea Gym?” Gloria asked.

Bede frowned. She had a point. He didn’t advertise his visits to Wyndon Tower, after all.

“They’ve been there for the last hour or so,” one of the Tower staff chimed in helpfully from behind the counter. “Apparently, someone saw you enter the tower earlier, and tweeted it, so they all gathered outside to wait for you.”

That would explain half of the mystery. “But… why, all of a sudden?” he muttered.

“I think this might be the cause.” Gloria had taken out her Rotom phone, and was staring intently at it. She held it out to Bede. On the screen was a digital edition of the latest InStyle Galar magazine, just released several hours ago.

And his face was on the cover.

For the longest time, Opal had refused to let Bede do a proper shoot, despite the many sponsors that sent them requests. Ballonlea’s Gym Leader was an artist, she proclaimed, and something as mundane as product advertisement was far beneath him.

Not that he didn’t get any photos taken. Bede posed dutifully for magazine interviews, the way Opal trained him to. Dressed in his gym uniform, with Hatterene beside him, and a charismatic smile upon his face.

But he didn’t do a full photoshoot until two months ago, when Opal’s Kalosian friend Valerie came to visit, and designed a whole set of fairy-themed clothes for Bede to wear. So he went through nearly 20 glittery outfits, and posed with his team, who also got to dress up with glamorous accessories. Hatterene, in particular, absolutely loved it.

Now the photos were out, and obviously, the public loved it too. Enough to come rushing to ambush him, in hopes of getting his autograph. Or his shirt.

Gloria was smiling as she swiped the screen to look through the shoot photos. “I think I understand why they’re so excited,” she commented. “These photos are wonderful. You look amazing!”

Bede felt his face reddening at her words. Curse his pale complexion.

“N-Naturally,” he said. “I am Ballonlea’s Gym Leader, after all.”

He had no illusions about his physical appearance. He knew, without a doubt, that he was quite good-looking, with his pale blond hair and piercing violet eyes. He was tall, with slender limbs often described as ‘elfin’. Opal had stood him in front of a mirror often enough to point out what he had (“Magnificently clear skin!”) and what he needed to work on (“Mascara, child!”). He received occasional fan letters every now and then extolling his beauty.

But if he had known that he would get hunted by a frenzied horde just for showing some skin, he would never have agreed to that shoot.

The panic within him was rising, and he took a few gulps of air to steady himself. Gloria was standing right there, and he would rather die than let her know that he had no idea how to deal with a crowd of screaming fans.

How was he going to get out of here without being mobbed?

“Take off your shirt,” Gloria said.

Bede blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“P… P… Pardon me!?” he stammered. What had she just said?!

Gloria pointed at his gym uniform. “It’s too recognisable. We’ll have to disguise you to get you out safely,” she explained.

“O-oh. Yes. Of course.” His heart, which had seemed to stop at the idea of Gloria wants him to take his shirt off, began beating erratically again.

He had to focus. The most important thing now was to get out of the tower.

Bede paused, looking uncertainly at the sling bag he was carrying. He didn’t have any other clothes with him that didn’t scream Fairy Aesthetic.

Gloria undid her backpack and dug around in it. Once she had a strange array of fabric in a pile, she held them out to him. “You can put these on instead,” she said.

Bede raised his eyebrows. “You do realise that I’m a lot bigger than you?”

Gloria grinned. “Luckily for you, these are more or less free-size.”

—

Twenty minutes later, Bede slipped out of the staff door with Gloria, dressed in a Pikachu T-shirt and a dark blue drawstring wraparound skirt. A bright red bandana was tied around his head to flatten and hide his white curls, and a pair of large, iridescent sunglasses sat on his nose.

The last straw? Gloria had to hold his hand to guide him, because there wasn’t enough light at night for him to see out of the sunglasses.

It was humiliating. Utterly humiliating. So humiliating that his face was burning and his heart was beating like a Rillaboom.

On the plus side, the crowd of fangirls ignored him as he walked past them, continuing to stare hopefully at the door. He saved his complaints for when they were out of sight.

Of course he had to complain. He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

“I look ridiculously stupid and unfashionable,” he grumbled.

“It’s not that bad,” Gloria said. “More importantly, we managed to get away without anyone recognising you.”

Bede came to a stop, glaring at her. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and innocent. So obviously straight-faced that he just knew, deep inside, she was laughing at him.

“You picked these clothes on purpose, didn’t you?” he said accusingly.

Gloria giggled. She squeezed his hand gently. For a moment, she stood close to him, her bright brown eyes turned up to him, her lips curved in an affectionate smile.

“Don’t worry, Bede,” she said. “You’re still beautiful to me.”

There was only one thing he could say to that.

“O-of course I am!"

Gloria laughed, and led him towards the Corviknight cab stand. As Bede glanced sideways at her, one thought repeated itself over and over again in his mind.

You’re beautiful, too.

#thank you for asking #my writing #Bederia #btyu #I like how I didn't have time for bederia week #then I came out and wrote this for a prompt lmao #technically since the last day is open I could shove it there HAHAHA

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beanfic · 5 years

Text

New Roommates - Ch.4

Word Count: 1971

Warnings: Language and fluff!

Author’s Note: Here is chapter 4! Enjoy! :))

“Sav!” Josh’s voice called out as he knocked on my door. I slowly opened my eyes as I woke from a deep slumber.

“What?” I mumbled, closing my eyes once again.

“Time to wake up! Get dressed and come to the kitchen!”

“Why?” I turned over and checked the time on my phone.

8:27. Way too early for a Saturday morning.

“Just do it, and don’t ask questions! If you don’t come out in ten minutes then I will go get Tyler and Mark to drag you out.”

“Okay!” I shouted back. I listened as Josh’s footsteps got further away. I stretched my arms and made sure to pop and crack all the necessary joints to start the day.

I threw on a pair of Adidas sweatpants and a black t-shirt. My hair quickly got thrown into a messy bun and I shuffled out to the kitchen.

“Happy first week of living with us!” the boys cheered in unison as I turned the corner into the kitchen. I jumped as I was not expecting them all to shout at me this early in the morning.

“I made us waffles!” Mark smiled down at the plate that was piled high with a stack of fluffy waffles. There were bowls of different fruit next to it, along with a bottle of whipped cream.

“What is this all for?” I nervously laughed.

“To celebrate that you have been living with us for officially a week now!” Tyler explained.

“This is kind of odd, but I will never pass up waffles!” I sat down on a stool and plopped a waffle down on a plate. They were still warm. “Thank you, guys!”

“Of course! Nothing but the best for the best roomie!” Mark teased. I let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m surprised you’re actually awake,” Josh noted. I glared over at him and crinkled my nose as I took a bite out of my waffle.

“I didn’t feel like being dragged out of bed this morning.”

“Fair enough.”

“So, Sav, now that you have been living here for a week, what are some of your favorite memories?” Tyler asked with a mouthful of strawberries.

“My favorite memories?” I pondered for a second while the boys shoveled waffles down their throats. “The first one that comes to mind is when we all played rage cage a few days ago.”

“Rage cage?” Josh asked and I nodded.

“I never really played drinking games with my friend back at home and it was really fun! Especially seeing you guys tipsy! Plus Kae was a good supervisor.”

“We need to get Kae to play, but I can drink for them!” Mark said.

Tyler shook his head, “Have you seen them throw a ping pong ball? You would get drunk so fast.”

“Hey! Don’t roast Kae when they aren’t even here to stand up for themselves.” I balled up my napkin and threw it at Tyler’s chest.

“I’m just speaking the truth!” he giggled.

“Another one of my favorite things about living here is having almost every meal cooked for me! Thank you chef mark.”

“My pleasure!” He pretended to curtsey.

“How does your head feel?” Tyler asked Josh as he tossed some Tylenol in his mouth and washed it down with orange juice.

“I’m not as hungover as I thought I would be, and to be honest, I am surprised I was able to wake up this early.”

“You woke up with a hangover just to surprise me?” I asked, putting my hands on my heart and sarcastically acting flattered.

“It was because I wanted the waffles, obviously.”

“Sure,” I teased back. Josh gave my shoulder a little shove as he walked past me and went to sit on the couch. I smiled to myself and looked up at Tyler and Mark who were exchanging glances.

Once I ended up finishing my plate of waffles and cleaned up, I headed back into my room to edit the photos I had taken at the football games from Friday night. I was really excited with how my photos turned out, and I was hoping to send some to the local newspapers and news sources for them to use.

I continued to edit my photos, occasionally getting distracted by Pinterest and Tumblr, while I waited for Kae to come over. We were going to go thrift shopping in downtown Columbus this afternoon. Kae said that they knew of the best thrift shops with the best finds, and they mentioned there is this really chill coffee shop that we could stop at as well which sounded perfect since today was such an overcast day.

“You ready!” My door flew open as Kae came rushing in and shouting at the top of their lungs.

“Holy shit!” I jumped out of my chair as they scared me. “You scared me!”

“Ha!” they cackled. I turned around and grabbed a pillow and chucked it at them. It landed right into their stomach. “Ouch!”

“That’s what you get!”

“It’s not my fault you get scared easily!”

“Just give me one second to put my shoes on and then I’ll be ready to head out!” I said and Kae nodded. They left my room, probably to go talk to Tyler, and I quickly tied my vans and grabbed my coat.

“Welcome to my crib!” Kae joked as they opened the door to their Red Kia Forte. It smelled like fresh laundry. They plugged their phone into the aux cord and started to play a playlist which consisted of Panic!, Queen, Paramore, and the occasional Fall Out Boy song.

“You have such a good music taste!” I complimented.

“Oh my gosh, really? I’m so self-conscious about it.”

“Why?”

“Having a boyfriend who is a musician makes you more aware of how others can be judgmental! But I am glad you like it!” They reached over and turned up the sound as Nicotine by Panic! blasted.

“Downtown Columbus is so pretty,” I said in awe as Kae found parking on the street.

“Have you been down here before?”

“LIke three or four times when I was younger and was visiting my grandma and aunt!”

“I love it down here!” Kae locked their car and started walking down the street. I followed close behind. We exchanged conversation about different movies we like, and hobbies that we both enjoyed while we looked in different thrift shops.

“I love this shirt!” I whispered to myself as I pulled out an old Death Cab for Cutie concert shirt. It was a little large but it was perfect because I enjoy oversized shirts.

“That’s awesome!” Kae said as they looked through jackets. “What do you think of this?” I turned around to see them holding up a vintage Levi’s denim jacket.

“Try it on!”

“Okay!” They slipped their arms through it and shrugged it on. It was a perfect fit.

“It looks so good, you have to get it.”

“It’s so comfortable! I can also put some pins on the pocket right here,” they pointed to the pockets on the chest. It looked really good on them.

“You get a jacket and I get a t-shirt!!”

“Sounds like a plan!” Kae and I headed over to the register to pay. My t-shirt ended up only being six dollars which was a huge steal. Kae’s denim jacket was thirty bucks, which is super good for a vintage Levi’s jacket.

We both ended up ordering the same exact thing at the coffee shop, and that was a mocha with whipped cream. We sat next to a window so we could look out and admire all the doggies that would pass by us.

“Hey, Sav, can I ask you a question?” Kae took a sip of their drink and set it down in front of them.

“Sure!” I shifted in my chair as I anxiously awaited their question.

“Do you like Josh? Like, like like?” They whispered.

“What?” I nearly spat out the mocha that I had in my mouth. “Who told you? I mean, yes, i mean, no, what?”

“Sav! It’s okay! You don’t need to get flustered.” Kae giggled as they handed me a napkin to clean up the mocha.

“Yes, I might have a little crush on Josh, but why are you asking? Is it obvious? Did the boys mention something?”

“Yes, Tyler mentioned that he might have thought you and Josh were flirting so I decided to get to the bottom of things!”

“Josh and I flirting? Like he was flirting with me too? I never noticed that.”

“I don’t really notice it but I guess Mark and Tyler do! Nothing is wrong if you like him, Sav.”

“Yes, there is! He is my roommate. I can’t fall for my roommate, haven’t you seen those movies?”

“This is real life, unfortunately, but I don’t think there is anything bad about it. You can’t control your emotions!”

“That’s exactly what my other friend said to me,” I sighed. “I just don’t know if I even want to pursue these feelings because what if he doesn’t feel the same about me? He has so many girls over all the time anyways.”

“I suggest just continue living your life, and just become closer to him! Friends, roommates, or even more. Don’t force it and let it come naturally!” Kae wrapped their arms around my shoulder and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you, Kae. It’s actually really nice to talk about it with someone who knows him, I feel a lot better now.”

The car ride back to the apartment was longer because of traffic so Kae decided to show me different car games they like to play. One was the original slug bug, but then they also showed me popeye and happy slappy. Popeye is when you punch the top of the roof anytime you see a car with only one headlight, and happy slappy is when you slap the other person when they spot a yellow car.

“Ow!” I squealed as Kae’s fist came into contact with my shoulder.

“Happy slappy, yellow one!” they shouted. A yellow slug bug came passing us on the left side.

“You’re too good at this game,” I mumbled. I made sure to keep an eye out for any yellow car or slug bug the entire way home, but I ended up losing that time very badly.

Once we got into the house we were welcomed by Tyler and Mark who were in the middle of an intense Mario kart race while Josh was busy reading a book on the couch.

“We’re home!” Kae announced. “You like my jacket?” They did a 360 turn for the boys to see.

“That’s sick!” Tyler said. “Dang it! You distracted me, Kae!”

“Sorry, but sometimes I am more important a game,” they snickered and headed over to sit next to Tyler.

“Did you get anything?” Mark asked me and I nodded.

“I found this old Death Cab for Cutie concert tee!” I pulled it out of the bag to show everybody.

“Did you buy that because you know it’s my favorite band?” Josh teased as he looked up from his book.

“Not everything is about you, Josh.” I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Do you even know how to read?”

“Yes, in fact, I do! This book is about-”

“I don’t really care.”

“Well, in that case,” Josh closed the book and chucked it at me, barely missing my shoulder.

“Joshua! What if that hit me?”

“Then I guess would have needed to call an ambulance, huh?”

“You’re so annoying!” I rolled my eyes and turned to Kae who was raising their eyebrows at me. They definitely had a point that Josh was flirting with me, but I knew better than to get my hopes up.

********

Tag list: @takenvysleep @fromcalmto-ill @svintsandghosts @reginawashere15 @breadbinishigh @ohprettyweeper @myjourneystartsnow19 @wearebxnditos @gaiatheroyalrabbit

#ks youau wc #tyler joseph #josh dun #twenty one pilots #tyler joseph fanfic #josh dun fanfic #twenty one pilots fanfic #twenty one pilots fanfiction #twenty one pilots fic #josh dun fanfiction #josh dun fic #tyler joseph fanfiction #tyler joseph fic #tøp fanfiction #tøp fanfic #josh dun angst #josh dun fluff #tyler joseph fluff #beanfic

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chickenscript · 6 years

Text

you've gotta be blind or something (rottmnt oblivious reader headcannons)

A/N: kiNd of supremely old with au stuff i barely remember. but since i'm in a writing rut, i decided to deep dive through my drafts for anything that might be finished or close to it. the first prompt i ever got was from an anon for an oblivious reader being crushed on by the turtle bros. but, i accidentally deleted their ask because tumblr mobile is stupid. hope you guys enjoy and that there aren't very many errors in this since i really didn't feel like editing it

Donatello:

- god; how haven't you noticed by now how hard he was trying here. you couldn't be this dense when you're able to understand more of his geek speak than most did and actually sit through it.

- he liked you- he figured that out relatively quickly and while he was at odds with these new, inexplicable feelings at first, he's settled with them and the fact he just had to tip you off about them.

- keeping something so important from you, something that could make or break your relationship, he just couldn't do it anymore. it created too much tension in him.

- he decided that two months after all those feelings got to sizzle under the surface, making him more inverted than what was even normal for him. he knew you could probably tell, but not if you could tell about the crush itself.

- but heck, there were just no openings for him to spit it out. even when he timed it just right, or got you in a quiet moment while you were talking. no amount of thoughtful pauses and hint dropping could get you to see what he was trying to communicate. he didn't even know how to say what he wanted, but he was sure you had to have gotten a clue at some point.

- but you haven't. and sitting here, twisting your hair into a plait (he and his brothers liked fiddling with your hair), he could barely contain his frustration at how you just missed another hint. only distracted by each calculated pass of your soft hair as he braided.

- he sighed. that was enough trying for tonight. he was tired anyway and wanted to focus on enjoying your company more than trying to get you to see he harbored so many raw feelings for you.

- he could practically feel steam coming out from his pours. but then you laughed at something he grumbled out and his emotions did a headspin, making him feel a sudden wave of turn her around and kiss the understanding into her.

- he suppressed it all with a refined ease he’s perfected over the years with all foreign or unwanted emotions he didn’t like dealing with at any given time.

- crushes on your close friend sucked.

Leonardo:

- was it hot in here, or was it just you?

- how many times he’s said that was enough to make him grimace. but even now, you still dodged the flirt like it wasn’t even one, and playfully and painful obliviously shot one back at him. no matter how many cheesy pickup lines he threw at you, you were just not getting it.

- you thought he was all jokes, and sure, in the beginning he was, but now leo knew his feelings were no laughing matter.

- he wanted to admit them all to you, tell every bit of how you made him feel and maybe even grab you and kiss it into you if he was bold enough in that moment, but god if he wasn’t terrified of what that could mean.

- rejection, disgust, the loss of one of his closest friends and confidants. the loss of someone who genuinely liked hanging out with him and finding new, hidden nooks in the city they loved.

- he couldn’t do that to himself or you when he thought about how much he meant to you as well.

- but that thought also drove him crazy with how you might just have powerful feelings for him too beyond friendship. so that’s why he was trying to ease into this whole confession things with something you both liked, but the make you comfortable part was working too well.

- the meaning of every line flew over your head and leo was getting worked up over it.

- but the way you laughed and smirked at him in that way when there was an inside joke only the two of you knew about was enough for him to say fuck it and give up for today.

- you were worth it.

- but heck if he still didn’t crave knowing what kissing you might be like.

Michelangelo:

- you’re his first ever crush and also one of his only best friends, so he really doesn’t want to blow it by telling you you’re his first ever crush.

- yes he still loves doing all the things you usually do together, but he loves it even more because he kind of loves you too now. in more than just the platonic way. he wanted more meaning behind those pecks you give him and his brothers- he wants special kisses that are just for him.

- and he wants you to be his first kiss; he can imagine what it will be, full of all the sweetness and warmth he’s felt for you and kept bottled up.

- but he couldn’t just do that. he didn’t want to scare you off or make you feel uncomfortable. he loved you and cared about, but first and foremost, you were his best friend. and he loved you in that sense more.

- he would never do anything to make you feel bad.

- he was helping you relax after a long and arduous school day. you really needed the pick me up and he was blasting a song you both loved, badly singing the lyrics with you.

- you were both so off key and awful, but you were smiling and mike used all the heart he had to make the lines in the song that resonated with his feelings stand out so that maybe you would notice.

- but you didn’t, and you just sang and danced along with him like usual, not catching the look in his eyes or anything.

- he was disheartened, but then he saw how lifted your spirits were compared to when you set foot in the lair.

- you were happy and mike was helping to make that happen. so, maybe it wasn’t so bad that you couldn’t tell how much more he meant while singing this time.

- but, having you say that you love him too might be just too much for him handle if it happened anyway

Raphael:

- gosh, he didn’t want to sound mean but, did you not know a hint when it was smacking you dead between the eyes?

- raph knew it would be hard to tell you what he’s been feeling as of late, and he knew it might turn out to have good results, but he also knew he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself forever. it wasn’t healthy and it was doing a number on him inside.

- it was getting harder to just be near you or let you ride on his shell anymore. but he couldn’t just turn you down for something that was his problem alone. you didn’t know what was going on.

- that was why he was intent on telling you it. but, you weren’t making it easy.

- you were sitting on his shoulder, resting your jaw on a palm and talking about your job at the animal center that’s been pretty long term now. he brought up how much he loved the cat-dog that was now the lair’s mascot and you shake your head with a smile, no bringing that up now.

- you could still remember how hard you had to lie to your supervisor about what happened to the pup and kitten that mysteriously went missing one night.

- raph was nervous as he waited for an opportunity where he might be able to interject and say what was really on his mind, but no way was he going to be able to do that.

- you were busy reminiscing with no foreseeable end in sight, and he was supposed to be in on the conversation, bringing up moments from the past to beguile too.

- besides,

- he didn’t want his confession to guilt trip you or make you feel obligated to say you returned his feelings. he especially didn’t want to make you feel as if it wasn’t fair that you couldn’t love him in that way.

- so, he would need more time to make his move and think out every little bit of what he was going to say when he did.

BonuS:

You:

you laugh off the admittance the turtle's been working on but then noticed the obliterated look on their face, "Oh you were...serious? I-I'm sorry, I..." you blink, suddenly flustered too and touch the side of your flush neck.

"I wasn't expecting that. I'm just me. Not all that much. You know?" your eyes dart away.

And the turtle says, no, he doesn't because he recklessly thought so much about you and how wonderful you are- he can't even say it all in words. Not that he'd know how to.

"Geez. Um, well," your eyes glimmer, "I like you too."

You're shaken again as the turtle is overwhelmed by their feelings and nearly drops.

You have to stop them from falling and they’re blushing a bright shade of green as you hold them steady by the shoulders.

"This uh, this isn't gonna happen often, is it?"

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant turles #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt x reader #my writing

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crashdevlin · 6 years

Text

Bottle- 11: Mission, the First

Bottle Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version), I work in info from the comics (Like Hawkeye was married to Mockingbird and Red Skull had a disappointing daughter) and I took a few liberties with what the scepter could do (but not really because the Mind Stone was used to create the Twins so what I did is not that far-fetched). This is a lot more angst than I realized when I wrote it, but it’s compelling angst.

Summary: Cassandra Campbell is a Stark Industries lab tech with dubious genetics and a history with the new Director of SHIELD. She’s been working in New York since right before the Chitauri invasion. What does she have to do with Loki, and what will happen when he returns? Starts post TDW and continues to the end of AoU.

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Loki x OFC (Non-con), Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 2133

Story Warnings: So many, worst (to me) are bolded. Younger woman/older man relationship,non-con, mutilation, torture, mind control, PTSD, depression, alcoholism, forced abortions, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, memory manipulation, eventual consensual oral sex (female and male receiving),

Chapter Warnings: none

Tony dropped her near the back side of the compound and she started pushing toward the back. As she rounded the side of a brick wall, Cassie heard boots crunch behind her.

"Who are you? Turn around," the guard ordered.

Cassie resisted the urge to put her hands up, instead putting an indignant look on her features as she turned. The two guards had their machine guns raised and were noticeably confused by the blond girl in the T-shirt and jeans, creeping through the snow. "Zat's a bad idea." She inflected a German accent to her words. "I'm here to see Herr Strucker. Put zee guns down, take me to him and you probably von't be disemboweled for your insolence."

"Who are you?" the taller of the guards demanded.

"If you don't know, zen you von't know. Get on your little radio and tell Strucker 'Junior has come home'. Zose exact vords, no defiation. Strucker vill know vat it means."

They stared at her for a moment before the shorter one lower his gun and pulled out a radio. "Herr Strucker?"

"What?" came from the little speaker.

"We found a woman by the wall. She says she's here for you. She said to tell you 'Junior has come home'?"

The silence on the other end dragged on for several moments before static came through the radio. "Bring her inside."

Cassie walked between the two guards and was brought into the compound. As she walked through the compound, she noticed a young woman and a man standing together, off to the side near several computers. She was placed in a room with a desk and left alone. An overhead speaker came on in the office, and an alert went out. "Report to your stations immediately. This is not a drill. We are under attack. We are under attack."

Over the comm in her ear, which Tony had set so she could hear, but no one could hear her, she heard Tony exclaim "Shit!" and Steve respond with "Language!". As the action heated up outside the compound, Cassie took the comm out of her ear and dropped it in her pocket. Strucker opened the door and locked it behind him.

"452. You've grown into a beautiful young woman. Where have you been?"

"Vell, after you abandoned me at Der Speilplatz, Fury took me to zee Fridge. You know about zee Fridge, yes? It vas a prison. I spent 10 years in a SHIELD prison. I, eventually, von the love of a high-level agent who had Fury's ear and he arranged for my release. I convinced zem all zat I vas... normal, zat I'd fallen for zeir brainvashing. I'd have come to find you earlier, but Fury vasn't entirely convinced. He had an agent tailing me. After zee Battle of New York, I had a chance. I vas vorking to find you, specifically, but you idiots sought it vould be a great time to unveil yourselves, so zat Captain America could dismantle everysing ve spent 70 years creating in secret. You must be so proud."

"Well, we tried to find you, to bring you home."

"You didn't try hard enough. Ten years, Volfgang, and two more whoring myself to a man almost shree times my age so zat I could keep zee act going. And here I find you vis SHIELD artifacts, doing experiments to make people half as strong as me. Vhy didn't you just come find me?"

A nervous look came over Strucker's face. "I didn't know you'd developed abilities. Listen, you need... this building is under attack. We need to get you out of here. You are more important than anything in this compound."

"Even your little projects?" She feigned a mild jealousy. "Go rally zee men, Volfgang. I'm not going anyvere."

"All right, 452. Stay out of sight. Stay safe."

"It's Joanna, Baron."

"Joanna, then," Strucker said, walking out the door.

Cassie watched as the man walked away. She grabbed her ear piece from her pocket and placed it back into her ear. "Stark, we need to get inside." Steve's voice came through the comm.

"I'm closing in. Jarvis, am I... closing in? Do you see a power source for that shield?" Tony responded. Cassie felt that was a question more for her, than for Jarvis, so she ran around to the other side of the desk and pulled out the drawers, looking for a clue of where to start. After finding nothing, she slipped out the door and headed to the right. She followed a staircase up to find a large glowing column.

"There's a pathway below the North tower," Jarvis said in her ear.

"Great. I wanna poke it with something," Stark said.

"Good idea," Cassie said to herself, picking up a piece of pipe leaning against the wall and jamming it into the middle of the generator. It sparked, then exploded, tossing her into the wall.

"Drawbridge is down, people," Tony said.

"The enhanced?" Thor asked.

"He's a blur. All the new players we've faced, I've never seen this," Steve answered. "In fact, I still haven't."

"Clint's hit pretty bad, guys. We're gonna need evac," Romanoff came over the comm, causing Cassie to sit up. Clint was hurt and she wasn't out there where she could help. She wasn't where she should be.

"I can get Barton to the jet. The sooner we're gone, the better. You and Stark secure the scepter." Thor seemed to answer Cassie's concerns. She slowly stood, content that Tony and Steve would be inside soon and the situation would diffuse, now that she'd done her part.

"Copy that."

"It looks like they're lining up," Thor mused.

"Well, they're excited," Cap responded, before a sound of explosion came through.

"Find the scepter," Thor ordered.

"And for gosh sake, watch your language!" Stark teased.

Steve sighed. "That's not going away anytime soon."

Cassie slowly found her way back down the stairs. She went to the opposite side of the hall when she came to the bottom of the stairs, quickly catching up to Steve as he found Strucker. She was down the stairs from where Steve emerged. "Baron Strucker. HYDRA's number one thug."

"Technically, I'm a thug for SHIELD," Strucker quipped.

"Well, then technically, you're unemployed. Where's Loki's scepter?"

"Don't worry, I know when I'm beat. You'll mention how I cooperated, I hope."

"I'll put it under illegal human experimentation. How many are there?" Steve asked as the brunette in the red coat came up behind Steve and blasted him with some sort of energy. He flew down the stairs, where Cassie grabbed him, helping him up. Steve gave her a confused look, before saying, "We have a second enhanced. Female. Do not engage."

"You'll have to be faster than-" Strucker began before Steve bashed him with his shield.

"Guys, I got Strucker," He said.

"Yeah. I got... something bigger," Tony said, over the comms as Steve picked Strucker up, turning to Cassie.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the jet."

"Tony had another idea. I jumped at it. You wouldn't have wanted to wait at the damn jet, either. Just like you didn't want to wait at the base while Bucky and hundreds of Americans were rotting in a Hydra camp."

"Yeah? What was Tony's idea?"

"I got us in. I brought the shields down, not Iron Man. That man, there, Baron Wolfgang von Strucker, he knows me. Knew me. I used that to get inside, used the distraction of the battle in the woods to get to the generator in the North tower and I blew that shit up. Pardon my language," she said, with a small smirk.

"Not you, too."

"Of course, me too. Now, you want some help with Strucker, or are you gonna muscle that mound of meat out of here yourself?"

"I got him. Get back to the jet. Please, be careful. Watch out for the enhanced," he said, a concerned tone in his voice.

"Yes, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassie sat next to Clint on the jet, not leaving his side to join the conversation around the jet. She'd heard Banner lamenting his change and the HYDRA agents he'd killed, but no one had said anything about the fact that she was the third-to-last person to get on the jet. Natasha had glared at her several times, but she'd focused on Clint and the massive hole in his side. At some point in the flight, Clint had reached over, weakly, and grabbed her hand.

As Clint was pulled off the quinjet to be operated on, Cassie was told to stay back. Tony grabbed her and pulled her to the lab. She stared at the scepter as Tony scanned it. "You did good. I'm impressed."

"Well, impressing you is always at the forefront of my mind, Tony."

"No, it's good. I can trust you. And by that, I mean I can convince you to go behind the backs of our teammates and take credit for your work."

Cassie laughed. "I just really wanted that scepter in Asgardian hands. Where it'll be safe. Any means necessary."

"And that had nothing to do with you being offended that Cap told you to wait in the car while the rest of us played exterminator for a giant serpent?"

"Well, that won't happen again, right? I've proven myself. I spent more time in that compound than anyone else."

"Sure," Tony said, succinctly, before continuing. "Unless the reason he wanted you to hang back was less about your capabilities and more about him worrying for your safety."

"Well, he shouldn't be worrying about me. I'm perfectly capable of-"

"What you're capable of doesn't matter. This isn't about your training or your track record. I put you in that compound because you survived a week in the Alps in a hospital gown and then blended in with a small Austrian town. You were born for this shit. Maybe not meant to be on this side of it, but... Cap's issue is not your ability to do this. This is about how upset he is on the idea of you dying without him having a chance to be modestly immodest with you."

Cassie scoffed. "I thought he got the memo. I'm not doing the dating thing. Shit's complicated enough without that mess."

"He didn't get that memo. And you know, he's the boss, really, so... we can keep sneaking behind the boss' back or..."

"If the next words out of your mouth are anything akin to 'take one for the team', I'll walk."

Tony shrugged. "I'm good with things as is."

Cassie sighed. "I'll talk to Steve. Make sure we're good. But I'm not fucking him just because I'm the first one he's wanted since he lost Agent Carter."

"No one said..."

Cassie shook her head. "I'll deal with this. You... concentrate on the scepter."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassie walked the halls of the upper levels of Stark tower, rehearsing what she would say to Steve, for forty-five minutes before she ran into him. "Hi, Steve."

"Hey. What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I've got nothing. I'm trying to not think too much. I don't wanna say I'm floundering... but I'm floundering. I mean, yeah, the scepter's safe, but Loki's still MIA, and the Avengers are about to break apart until the next time the Earth needs it's mightiest heroes and I don't know what to do with that downtime. Then, there's the awkward elephant in the room."

"You wanna know if we're okay?" Steve asked, succinctly.

"Yeah. I mean... I followed Tony's orders instead of yours. I know that was a slap in the-"

"Cassie, it's fine. I understand. I shouldn't have tried to keep you out of the fight. Never tell him I said this, but Stark was right. There was better use of your time."

She smiled. "I'm glad."

"Look, I understand how downtime can be a bit disconcerting. I know it's not Austria but I'm sure you can find something peaceful to do."

"Austria wasn't peaceful. It was mind numbing, which is what I wanted at the time. I prefer the city, though. Look, I... Pepper wants me to go back to work in the lab, but... I think that would be more boring than working a grill. Please, tell me that you have something useful for me to-"

"Actually, I don't. The only thing I have is tracking those two enhanced. Why don't you check on Barton? I think Doc's finished patching him up. After that, we'll discuss ways that we can put your skills and enhancements to good use. Even if the Avengers aren't assembled, we have use for you. Stick around. Oh, and there's the party."

"I will stick around for that. Definitely. I mean, I live right downstairs," Cassie said, walking away.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108

#cassie writes stuff #red queen chronicles #ofc #steve/ofc

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nickireadstfc · 7 years

Text

The King’s Men, Chapter 13 – WHAT THE FUCK, Pt. 2

In which Neil’s father happens.

Sounds good? Who are we kidding. It’s time for Nicki to read The King’s Men.

So.

We finally made it here after all, huh?

Glad you’ve come around to watch the show, friends. Gather round, sit down with a blanket and a book to clutch, and get ready for literal hell.

Our boy has been running from this for two and a half books, and now he’s finally – unfortunately – made it. Neil has stopped running, has stopped hiding, has shed his lies and his disguises and even his name, and has overall wished his life goodbye.

Except, well.

We, of course, have not.

Let’s go.

Lola had lined the back of his hand with crosshatches and burned angry circles into his knuckles. Another burn mark stained the tender flesh between his thumb and index finger. The burns were starting to ooze, but dried blood smothered most of the mess.

Holy shit.

My non-native English speaking ass had to look up what crosshatch is, and yeah, Lola essentially cut Neil’s (Nathaniel’s?) hand up into a nice argyle pattern.

What the fuck. #deathoutforlolamalcolm

(Thank you to permanentchaos for this gem of a hashtag.)

He was in the cellar, which meant they’d come in through the garage. An underground tunnel led from one to the other, installed for the sole purpose of moving the occasional body.

Natch.

Fucking natch that this man would have a BODY MOVING TUNNEL.

The Extra™ runs in the family, apparently.

Nathaniel and his mother had escaped through it nine years ago. It was only fitting that he was returned home the same way.

Okay, nice. That’s some good ass poetic symmetry right there folks.

I’m in a state of anxiety and dread right now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate some sweet sweet writing.

Nathaniel brandished his hands at [Lola]. “These are going to get infected if I don’t clean them soon.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”

“You’re not me,” Nathaniel said, and got to his feet.

Glad to see that Nathaniel is as much of a sassy shit as Neil was.

I’m not kidding, this had been an actual concern of mine.

However, my tiny flicker of enjoyment of this scene is quickly dissolved as things developed and they had to develop – we meet The Man™.

Mr Chop Chop himself, Nathan Wesninski, has entered the room, accompanied by his bodyguard Arnold Schwarzenegger, Evil Edition.

Oh boy.

“On your feet,” Nathan said. (…) “You know better than to sit in my presence.”

Nathaniel told himself to stay put, but he was already getting up.

Heck nope.

Just this bit right here already tells us so much about this character and the power dominance in his relationship to Nathaniel, and those are legit his first few lines.

Nathaniel has been so conditioned to follow his father’s orders that he literally can’t not do it. Jesus fuck.

Bless you (but also curse you), Nora, for always introducing characters so spot on.

“My son,” Nathan said. “My greatest disappointment in life. Where is my second greatest?”

“Mom is dead,” Nathaniel said.

Holy sHIT.

“My second greatest”, can Nora STOP WRITING SUCH GOOD VILLIANS.

This is a+ wording right there.

I am very, very quickly eating my words about my appreciation of Nathan’s character as he shares some of his, well, fantasies. And not the sexy kind.

(Although I would have a similarly repulsed reaction to hearing Nathan Wesninski’s sexual fantasies, thank you very much.)

“I’m indecisive. I might skin you alive. I might take you apart one inch at a time and cauterize the wounds. I think no matter what I choose we are going to start by slicing the tendons in your legs.”

Any other time, I would have called him out for being ~Dramatic~, but after what Lola did to Nathaniel in the car and how much she was not overstating her cruelty, I’m kinda fucking terrified.

And mind you, Lola is supposed to be the watered down version of Mr Chop Chop.

Where do I sign up for an exit program right the fuck now.

“Fuck you,” Nathaniel spat at him, voice sharp with horror.

Glad to see Nathaniel keeping up the Brand™ even in this time of stress.

And by glad I mean absolutely peeing myself in fear.

Metal flashed a scarce inch from [Nathaniel’s] face as Nathan took a swing with the axe.

And with that, Nathaniel’s father, his gang, his cleaver and his axe set to doing good on their word.

All of this is of course very reminiscent of Neil’s scar-inducing trip to Evermore in The Raven King, except in TRK most of the torture done to him was off-screen, whereas here it is very fucking not so.

I am attributing it solely to my dad exposing me to violent action movies at a young age that I did not get sick reading this.

This is an 18+ book, folks. And in all seriousness, I feel like there should have been a warning about that somewhere.

I am sparing y’all the descriptions of the following pages because you’ve already been through it once already, but.

Please know that this is the most explicitly violent, brutal and terrifying shit that has gone down in this entire series so far (and also, I hope, ever.)

“We’ll slit your ankles, then your knees,” Nathan told Nathaniel. “And if you try to crawl away I will take your arms from you too.”

Literally HOW IS THIS MAN REAL.

(He’s not. He’s fictional. I know that. Shut up.)

HOW DOES SOMEONE DO SHIT LIKE THIS. HOW DOES SOMEONE DO SHIT LIKE THIS TO THEIR OWN SON.

I’m quitting. I am the fuck OUT.

Nice knowing y’all, but I am deleting this account, see y’all nev–

“Lola,” Nathan said, but he didn’t get to finish.

The cellar door opened from the outside, and a swarm of strangers came in shooting.

Wait, what.

Oh SHIT.

STUART’S HERE, the badass distant uncle has come to save the day.

Does this feel a little ex machina? Yes.

Do I care? Absolutely the fuck not, because now my boy Nathaniel gets to live another day with both of his legs intact.

Nathan was kneeling in the middle of the room with four guns aimed at his head. He started to get to his feet, but someone knocked him back down with the butt of a rifle.

Now that’s what I like to see, folks.

Hit that fucker.

“How dare you,” Nathan said savagely. “You defy Moriyama by coming here and killing my men. You are a dead man walking. You don’t have the power to–“

Stuart didn’t let him finish. Nathan’s body jerked as two bullets punched holes into his chest.

NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL QUALITY CONTENT.

HECK YEAAAHHHHHHH.

When his father is killed, though, Nathaniel has an interesting experience:

That wrenching feeling in his chest wasn’t grief, but a need so fierce Nathaniel thought it would kill him. (…) He couldn’t breathe, much less explain the terrifying exhilaration.

Sounds to me like he’s experiencing Wanting To Have Killed Daddy Himself, but I could be wrong?

Could also be relief, if you consider that Nathaniel legit spent over half of his life running from that guy.

I am mildly confused here as to whether this is what Nora means or if we’re not supposed to understand this feeling either and it’ll be revealed/explained later.

If anyone has anything (spoiler-free) to offer on this, hit me up.

Moving on – Stuart Ex Machina gets Nathaniel out of the house and hands him right over to the FBI, which is at least better than the Torture Cellar of Hell.

“My name is Nathaniel Wesninski,” he said, “and my father is dead.”

HECK YEAH.

Tattoo this sentence on my forehead, please and thank you.

We’ve been waiting for this for TWO AND A HALF BOOKS, I lowkey can’t believe we’re finally here.

This new development is also pretty okay by Nathaniel (and me), seeing as it’ll finally provide him with some good good medical attention.

Oh, and also opportunities to be a sassy shit.

“Are you going to be a problem for us?”

Nathaniel struggled to look up and focus on the man’s face. “I’ve been a problem for nineteen years. I’m too tired to be one tonight.”

I love this boy, whether Neil or Nathaniel or whoever.

Said boy then – understandably – passes the fuck out, and wakes again in a place where I wished he would have been approximately fifty times those past two and a half books:

A goddamn hospital, getting himself goddamn patched up.

Oh, also the feds are here.

Oh, also he’s kind of under arrest.

What can you do.

“We’ve got a string of offenses we could charge you with, starting with the fake IDs in your wallet and escalating to your mother’s current whereabouts. Just let us know if we’ve got to play hardball.”

Nathaniel made a rude noise. “You couldn’t at least use an Exy idiom?”

I am CACKLING.

This absolute NERD.

„Yes officer, you have me arrested, but gosh fuckin darnit honor the might Exy, will you.”

Nathaniel, despite what he said to them last night, continues being A Problem for the FBI, answering only the minimum of questions and then turning to repeating pretty much one phrase, despite what the feds try to bribe/threaten him with:

“I want to see my teammates.”

Fucking iconic.

Oh yeah, also said teammates have been brought in for questioning and now know everything about Nathaniel’s dirty gritty backstory. Oops.

I doubt they will care, but apparently the FBI does not share my opinion.

“You’re wrong,” Nathaniel said. “They can’t leave without Andrew, and Andrew won’t go anywhere until he talks to me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

HECK YES HE DOES.

Andrew will absolutely rip him a new one for hiding all this shit from him, but I’ll be damned if he won’t activate heaven and earth to see his boyfriend.

“You can take me to him, or you can let me rot silently in a cell somewhere. Those are your only options.”

Heck YES.

God, those two. <3

The FBI are not as hyped about Andreil as I am, sadly, and the next day they take him away into custody without letting him see anyone.

A blasted shame.

Nathaniel couldn’t sleep, but at least he could daydream his father’s death over and over again. That was almost enough to make him smile, and eventually it thawed the chill from his veins.

And in a way, that is strangely comforting.

I’ll see y’all next week.

If you like what I do here and you want to help me through the heartbreak of this chapter, why not buy me a coffee? Every lil bit helps, getting me through uni and all that jazz. Thanks so much!

#tfc #the foxhole court #aftg #all for the game #andreil #tkm #the king's men #nora sakavic #nicki reads tfc #I'M BACK Y'ALL #regular updates again from next week on #thx for bearing with me #please come cry in my inbox if you have feelings bc bish me too

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marshaeb · 3 years

Text

P.S: I'm Mated With The Cursed Alpha!

Chapter Three

Hey guy! Don’t forget to Like, Comment, Review, and Follow for more updates! My apologies in advance for all the grammatical errors. Book will be professionally edited when completed.

During the ride to St Pete’s, we were like fugitives taking several shortcuts to avoid being caught by Mom’s coast guards.

I checked my bandaged arm for any sight of blood, feeling the slight pain running through its fractured nerves. Exhaling anxiously, I tried my best to calm my troubling mind until Sarah took notice of my injury, panicking behind the wheel.

“Jo’, what the hell happened to your forearm?” She panicked, glancing between me and the road with her pink lipstick in her hand.

“Calm down, Sarah, please! Focus on the road before you kill us both!” I breathed out.

“So was it true?” she asked. “Did you really get injured that other night?”

“No, Sarah! This was recent!” I argued. “And that’s some stupid rumor Chelsea and Eugenia made up about me.”

“Dang! those two are still at it!” She sucked her teeth, shaking her head slowly. “So...what on earth happened to you then?”

“Gileon and Talloc happened!” I said, and from there I didn’t need to explain any further.

“Oh!” She mumbled beneath her breath. “Can those two ever get along! No one would believe those two owners are best friends by the way they carry on with one another. Sorry about that Jo’... I bet it’s Gideon’s who did it.”

“I don’t know which one had done it. I was too caught up on trying to separate the two savages.” I said. “I even got stitches because of them, and it hurts like hell.”

“Well, you know if you had told me this before we left, I could of cancel out on the party.”

It’s ok, really.” I said. “I could manage, and besides, I’ve already gone through the trouble, sneaking out to go with you...and we’re already halfway there.”

“True...but there’s something I want to tell you.” She said as the sound of howls reverberated through the shadowy forest. “there’s this guy named Bobby.”

“W-who?” I said looking carefully through the tall trees as we sped past.

Those howls, there was something awfully strange about them. They were definitely none of our kind. It also didn’t sound like those from the Tariaki tribe. Something didn’t feel right about it. What else could possibly be out here tonight in this region?

“I said Bobby, Jo’!” She repeated, but I was too focused on the sound drifting our way.

The tiny hairs on my arm began to rise as chills crept over my body. Whatever was out there was on the same trail as us. All of a sudden, all the commotion seemed to have strangely quieted down. My focus instantly drifted back to Sarah, who patting my legs, calling my name over and over asking if I was listening.

“Joel!” She called as she turned the corner. “What is up with you? Are you thinking about Jackson?”

My breath caught in the back of my throat. Jackson, I had no idea if he’ll be at the party. I love Sarah, but the main reason I kept my word about going to the party, despite my injury, was to meet Jackson out there.

“I heard he’s already making the second rank.” She said as a proud smile curl on my lips. “That’s saying a lot you know.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, confusedly.

“Something or...someone had really boosted his stamina.” She teased, knowing just what to say to make me flustered. “I wonder. Who. Could. It. Be...hmm?”

“Alright, alright you got me!” I confessed.

“Did you let him have it?” She asked.

“Have what?” I rolled my eyes.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She said provokingly. “Did you let him have the goodies?”

I choked on the air, widening my eyes by what she was the remark. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lied, blushing ear to ear.

She gasped deeply, covering her mouth. “You did, didn’t you?” She exclaimed in disbelief. “And didn’t tell me! How was it? Was it good?... Did he make you cry, or even went all the way?”

“Gosh, Sarah!” I chuckled, turning up my nose. “What are you, a journalist?

“No, I’m not a journalist... I’m your best friend.” She said. “I told you the time I lose mines...”

“I was going to tell you eventually.” I sighed and paused for a few seconds, reminiscing on that magical night.

A tingling sensation came over me just thinking about the way he touched me. The way he kissed and caressed me. Why was I heating up like this? It’s so obvious that I’m new to all this.

“It was...very romantic and he was so passionate and gentle with me,” I explained, feeling my heart rate speeding up. “It really hurt at first, but after a while--

“It felt like paradise, I know. She added. “Every girl hurt during the first time. I did, but I managed to get over it quickly.”

“Do you miss him, Ricky?” I said.

She hesitated for a second and shook her head abruptly. “No! I’m totally over him, Jo’. Seriously.”

“And this Noah or Bobby guy?” I asked. “Who is he?”

“Bobby...He’s the physical education teacher at the school.” She blushed. “I caught him a few times looking at me like I was some sort of alien from out of space.”

“And...that’s a good thing?” I asked, furrowing my brows confusedly.

“Well... I guess because I ran into him in the hall and he was turning all red, fidgeting like a shy kid in front of a class.” She said.

“Do you think...you could possibly...you know...be his mate?” I asked.

“W-what?” She huffed. “Mom said the same thing! My mate? I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Because...I... I don’t know,” she stressed, “I don’t know who my mate could be...not until I’m eighteen.”

“But he’s not eighteen,” I said. “More than anything, he would know, especially if he’s acting like that whenever you’re around him. You could always find out. Are you scared or something?”

“Scared? I-I’m not scared of something I can’t control, but I am nervous.” She mumbled. “I wish I was like you and Jackson. You two already know that you’re mates.”

I chuckled faintly as it grew quiet between us, thinking about me and him. Those same doubtful, insecure thoughts were resurfacing my mind again. I hated it so damn much. Why is it, no matter how much everyone says it, and how much Jackson preaches to me that we are, there’s still this slight doubt that keeps haunting me? The feeling always makes me depressed, because I don’t want anyone else to be my mate, but Jackson. And I would be devasted if he belongs to someone else. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I love him too much.

~~~~

As we arrived in the parking lot of St Pete’s Tavern, the place was overly crowded.

“Why are so many people here?” I asked as we drove slowly past the crowd of loitering people standing around parked cars. “This was only supposed to be a class graduation-party...”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean the place’s exclusively for us only,” Sarah explained. “They’re still open for regular customers.”

I sighed, completely over it before we even step foot into the building. I looked out my side of the window and glanced at the unfamiliar faces. Most were either from different schools or were out of school for quite some time.

Like any wild party filled with young people, the music was blasting up to its max with the sound of people screaming and shouting to the top of the lungs like the imbecile they are.

“I had a deep feeling we shouldn’t have come.” Sarah sighed, disappointedly. “We should just head back...call it night.”

Before she started up the car to leave, I stopped her and tried to reason with her, but deep down I wanted to see if Jackson was out here first.

“Come on, Sarah...” I said. “I’ve already gone through the trouble of sneaking out again, just to make it all the way out here to go back?”

“I know but...” She paused, throwing her hand in the direction of the party. “Look at this... I wasn’t expecting this!”

“I know, but how about this...” I said calmly, “why don’t we just take a look around and then...leave.”

After a few seconds of trying to weigh out whether to go or not, she finally gave up and agreed.

“Fine! Just a walk inside, then we’re out of here.” She said, turning off the engine.

As we exit the car a loud, perverted whistle was blown my way. Instantly, I felt the pit of my stomach churn. As Sarah locked the car door, she pushed me by the shoulders gently and said, “Let’s go. Probably one of those morons from Valley heights.”

As we near the entrance, the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol was ramping in its hot atmosphere.

Sarah was following right behind me, when I suddenly paused, causing her to collide with me just before I stepped through the doors.

“Ouch, Jo’, what’s wrong?” She asked balancing her posture. “Why’d you stopped all of a sudden?”

There it was again. That chilly, dark feeling. It was now even stronger than it was before. What on earth could it be?

“I-its nothing...sorry about that.” I shrugged it off.

We entered the tavern filled with people, partying, dancing about, engaging in boisterous chatter. We shuffled through the packed floor. My eyes wandered everywhere with hopes to see any sign of Jackson, but instead, my eyes met hers, Chelsea.

How did I forget that she would be here too with her sidekick Eugenia and their clique of groupies?

“Wow, looks who’s here!” She shouted as they marched towards us. “Don’t tell me...”

“Did you sneak out the window again?” Eugenia concluded as they burst into laughter.

Chelsea tapped on her wristwatch provokingly, and formed a fake frown on her face, puckering out her bottom lip.

“Better be home before midnight, Cinderella.” She taunted. “Or Mama Alpha’s gonna have your neck like last time.”

I could feel my blood gradually starting to boil as they ran on and on. And the sad thing about it, nothing they said we’re lies. It was all the truth. Mom doesn’t have the slightest clue that I’m out and if she does she would definitely throw a tantrum and embarrass me in front of everyone like she always does.

“Hey, I remember that!” Eugenia said scornfully, biting on her stubby thumb.

“Let’s go, Joel!” Sarah said, pulling me back, but my wolf was to rile up to step away. I was ready to snatch her little throat.

“Who doesn’t?” Chelsea chuckled. “Can’t even go shopping with friends without Mama Alpha’s consent. I really pity you. I could never live with myself having a mother like that.”

“That’s enough!” Sarah said stepping between. “Leave her alone, Chelsea. At least she has a mother who cares about her daughter’s well-being, unlike yours!”

Anger and shamed immediately washed over her face as she couldn’t find the words to reply.

“Oh yeah!” Eugenia stepped into her defense. “At least she knows her real mother...you Joel don’t even know if your’s is dead or alive!”

Just like that, my mind went blank. Without holding back anymore, my hands lengthen into claws and I strike her hard across her face.

“Oh my goodness!” Chelsea squealed, supporting her whimpering friend. The folks standing nearby turned towards us as she continued to draw attention. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You had no right to put your hands on her!”

Together, they rushed Eugenia and her overdramatic gasping and wailing, into the lady’s room. Sarah too took me by the hand and escorted me to the bar to calm me down.

“Sit! You need to cool it!” She said, helping me onto an empty seat near the countertop. “What was that about?”

“Don’t you blame me...we were minding our business. They were the ones who started it.” I mumbled.

“I know...and she somewhat deserved it, but you might have hurt her really badly, Jo’. Then you’ll hear word going around that the Alpha’s daughter had struck someone at a party she’s not supposed to be to in the first place!”

Though she was right, I was too satisfied to feel bad about it. I had put up with their shit for far too long. At some point, I would have lost it and it just so happened to be that night.

“What would you ladies like tonight?” The bartender asked.

Sarah turned to her and ordered two martinis. After making and serving us our drinks, Sarah placed mines in my hand and said, “drink up, we leave right after.”

But I was too deep in my thoughts to finish mines as quickly as she did. I sat there, sipping my drink slowly, and stared blankly at the hectic crowd.

“Look, I going to use the restroom.” She said placing her car keys and pouch in my lap. “Watch them carefully, I’ll be right back and we’re off to go back home.”

When she left me there alone, my eyes wandered once more, hoping to find any sign of Jackson. By the looks of it, it’s seemed like he didn’t come out after all. I let out a deep sigh, clutching Sarah’s things tightly in my hands.

“Damn it! I should have known he wouldn’t be out here...” I mumbled. “It’s not like Jackson to go out without me knowing, anyway.”

As my eyes lifted and glanced across the room... settling on him.

No, it wasn’t Jackson. It was a very tall, strapping man with a face that was as if it sculpted from the Moon Goddess herself. But there was a dark, scary hint to it, sending shivers down my spine. I had never in my life seen a God-like man like that before.

Slowly, he raised his nose into the air which looks like it seems he was taking the most intense, exaggerated sniff I’ve ever seen.

His head almost instantly snapped in my direction. His eyes...those wild, golden eyes were steadfast and locked onto mines like I was the last prey on the earth. His long straight hair ran below his taut chest as he stood across the room.

All the laughter, chatter, and music had suddenly zoned out as we continued to exchange eye contact that was intensifying by the second. It felt like he was seeing through my soul, to my she-wolf within.

His postered was becoming more and more unstable as he leaned back in forth on his feet. Before I know it, he let off a loud, powerful howl that petrified everyone in the building.

I hoop off my seat, panicking like a madwoman, looking for Sarah through the raging mob.

I shouted her name as everyone ran to and fro throughout the tavern.

My eyes immediately turned back towards the unknown man and watched as he shifted into this gigantic black wolf.

My heart thrashed violently against my chest as I saw my life flash before my eyes.

The monstrous beast lowered its head growling loudly as it suddenly took off, sprinting towards me.

Right there and then, I knew this was the beginning of the end for me.

Read Chapter Four (Click the link below)

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desktopgargoyle · 7 years

Text

the road trip series - chapter 4

AN: I’m sorry this has taken me so long to upload! Trust me to pick the Worst Possible Time to start writing a multi-chapter fic...whoops. I’m really sorry I can’t promise a regular update schedule, but I’m trying my best to write content that I’m happy with and that I hope you will be happy with; I’d rather focus on the quality of the chapters rather than how quickly they’re published, you know what I mean? Anyway, that’s enough rambling from me. Here’s Chapter 4, hope you guys enjoy it! - Danielle

ff.net version | the road trip series

Chapter 4

At Alya’s suggestion, they decide to make a few scenic stops along the way to Marseille. She figures that this way they’ll get to see a little more of the non-Paris edition of France as well as have time to relax and break from the intense driving. Or at least Alya needs a break, especially after the last tortuous forty-five minutes.

The traffic had, thankfully, dissipated and they were finally on the move again driving at just over 100km/h. It was great; they were more energised, they were blasting The Lion King soundtrack, Nino and Adrien were scream-shouting a load of nonsense that only vaguely resembled the actual lyrics, and Marinette had control of the camera, collecting footage for Alya’s blog.

“Smile, Nino!” Marinette giggles, zooming in ridiculously close to Nino’s face. He grins, crossing his eyes and holding up a peace sign as he and Adrien continue to dramatically re-enact the entire Circle of Life scene from The Lion King as best they can in the somewhat cramped backseat of the car.

Marinette turns the camera to Adrien next and he sticks his tongue out at her. Marinette huffs. In true Adrien fashion, he still manages to look abso-fucking-lutely perfect. Curse that flawless face of his. Curse that gorgeous hair of his. Curse – actually no, scratch that. He’s too beautiful to be cursed. Marinette sighs audibly, oblivious to Alya’s slight snickering from the driver’s seat.

“You okay there, Mari?” Adrien’s question snaps her out of her little space out and she promptly turns red, for perhaps the umpteenth time today alone.

“Me? Yes of course! You’re great! I mean – you’re fine! NO. That is to say, I’m fine. Not to say that you’re not fine because of course you are, right? You’re a model! Um…but of course you already know that…why wouldn’t you know that….ha.”

Adrien glances at Nino, eyebrows raised questioningly. Nino simply shrugs in return.

“How about we pretend I never opened my stupid mouth, okay?” Marinette laughs nervously, swiftly turning around in her seat to face the front. “Kill me.” She mouths to Alya before she buries her flushed face in her hands.

In a valiant effort to change the subject, Nino decides that now is the perfect time for a playlist brainstorming session. “So Maribro. I was thinking that we add a new playlist to our repertoire.”

Marinette swivels around again in her chair (making a great effort to avoid making eye contact with Adrien as she does so) to face Nino. “As much as I’d love to, I’m pretty sure you have violated the Playlist Rules, specifically rule number one, on more than one occasion.”

Nino gulps audibly.

“As a result of this disregard for the sacred rules,” Marinette continues. “I, as sole rule-abiding Playlist Executive, do henceforth revoke your Playlist Executive licence until further notice.” She grins smuggle and winks at him before spinning back around again in her chair.

“But that makes it a playlist dictatorship! I will not stand for this kind of oppression! Liberté, égalité, fraternité! Vive la France!” Nino presses his fist to his heart in what is supposed to be a patriotic manner. In fact, he gets a little too enthusiastic and winds up punching himself in the process.

Marinette retorts back that if Nino was so in favour of democracy then he would abide by the agreed rules. The argument (that is, if it can be called an argument) goes on for another couple minutes before Alya decides that it’s time to intervene. Honestly, if she had known that she would end up playing peacemaker between two apparent five-year-olds, she would not have signed up for this job.

In her sharp ‘I-am-in-charge-and-you-will-not-question-my-authority’ tone (which the past ten years of babysitting her sisters has allowed her to perfect), Alya declares that Nino is on Playlist Time-Out indefinitely, Marinette is Chief Playlist Commander, and Adrien is Assistant Playlist Consultant. She herself refuses to be part of this playlist nonsense because, frankly, there is nothing wrong with just hitting shuffle and seeing where they end up. The highly specific playlist names fiasco is just ridiculous, in Alya’s humble opinion.

Nino protests, claiming that the rules specifically ban Adrien from any playlist-related activities, to which Marinette points out that Nino cannot hold such a gross double standard concerning rule breaking, and Alya feels her eyes roll so hard that she’s pretty sure she will soon be able to see the inside of her skull.

“Everyone shut the hell up or so help me god I will turn this car right around and we will all go straight home!” Alya yells. She figures that this trick still works on her younger sisters, even though they’re now teenagers, so it’s worth a try.

The car falls silent and, surprisingly, it remains like that for the better part of fifteen minutes.

Alya breathes deeply and smiles serenely. “See? Was that so difficult? All you have to do is keep calm, breathe, and- FUCKING HELL, YOU MORON! WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU’RE DRIVING, ASSHOLE! USE YOUR FREAKING TURN SIGNAL! I SWEAR TO GOD I CAN’T CATCH TWO MINUTES OF PEACE! OH, YOU WANNA FLIP YOUR MIDDLE FINGER AT ME?! TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT GAME, BUDDY!”

Marinette and Nino exchange knowing looks and Marinette slams the play button on the ‘we-need-to-distract-alya-otherwise-she-will-get-into-a-fight’ playlist. All the while Adrien looks a little terrified in his corner of the car. He really shouldn’t be surprised at Alya’s outbursts, but he’s always slightly shocked that so small a person can house all of that tension. Sometimes he can practically see the steam coming out of her ears as if she was a cartoon character.

Alya scowls at the idiot who is now driving in front of her and grips the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white. If there’s one thing she cannot stand, it’s reckless drivers. People make mistakes every now and again when they drive, that’s just natural – Alya gets that. But this idiot was just blatantly ignoring all driving etiquette. Nothing pisses her off more than that.

“Hey, we’re coming up to Saint-Étienne, how about we take a break?” She suggests. Everyone is only too happy to comply.

Saint-Étienne is quite pretty, Marinette decides. They grab some pastries at a local café and make their way to the public gardens in the centre of the town, looking out at the architectural bandstand structure, taking in the calm atmosphere, and revelling in its stark contrasts to the hustle and bustle of Paris. Nino and Alya decide to take a walk around the gardens, leaving Adrien and Marinette alone on the bench.

“Can you imagine how awesome it would be to see an actual band playing on the stand?” Adrien grins. Marinette nods in agreement; it really would be a sight. “I can see it so clearly in my head,” Adrien continues. “Either a jazz-swing-blues band or an orchestra, I haven’t quite decided yet, and fairy lights – actually no, lanterns – strung up everywhere, people dancing around. It would be great.”

Marinette rests her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. “Sounds like quite the visual you’ve thought up there,” she smiles. “It sounds really nice.” She does her very best to not imagine that very image in the context of their wedding. Reel it in, Mari. Don’t do this again.

Adrien stretches his arms out. There’s a little voice in his head telling him to pull the cliché fake-yawn move so that he can rest his arm around Marinette’s shoulder but he tells this voice to shut up and folds his arms behind his head instead.

“I feel like Alya needs a break from driving.” Marinette says, between bites of her pain-au-chocolat. “I think she’s hit her limit.”

Adrien nods, sipping his coffee. He winces as he feels his taste buds disappear and is hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. “Hey, Mari, remember that school trip we took to London?” That trip will always remain one of his favourite memories. It was the first time his father had actually willingly trusted him with some independence, encouraged it, actually.

“Yeah, that was a great trip.” Play it cool, Mari. Cool, collected, no squealing.

“I just got hit with some major déjà vu,” he laughs. Marinette loves his laugh; his eyes go all sparkly and they crinkle at the edges. She still doesn’t hear him laugh enough, but she’s glad that it’s becoming a more frequent occurrence. “Remember being stuck with me the whole train ride there and back?”

“Oh my gosh, how could I forget? You practically force-fed be overpriced snacks and wouldn’t let me pay you back!” Marinette pokes him in the shoulder accusingly in mock outrage.

“Well I wasn’t going to let you starve, was I? And besides, from what I remember you declared that you were ‘willing and ready to just marry this popcorn already’.” He pokes her right back.

“Don’t use my own words against me!” Marinette huffs, folding her arms across her chest and sinking slightly into the bench. Adrien simply smirks at her and holy frick he should not be allowed to be that hot. Granted, he is a model and she is fully aware of that but, nevertheless, he should not look that fricking hot. In a strange moment of self-control, she does not blush and instead opts for sticking her tongue out at him like the mature adult she is.

Adrien is somewhat taken aback by Marinette’s sudden ability to stay cool and flirt back (yes, he will allow himself to believe that she is flirting) with him. He watches as she quirks her eyebrow before sticking her tongue out at him (her nose scrunches up in this really cute way) and he is struck with the realisation that Marinette manages to look both freaking adorable and actually kind of hot at the same time. He gulps slightly, turning slightly red when Marinette looks at him questioningly, and silently berates himself. The tables have really turned this time.

In an attempt to distract herself from the fact that she not only flirted shamelessly with Adrien Agreste but succeeded in making him bush, Marinette looks up at the sky. Adrien watches her as she squints at a cloud and chews her lip slightly and he finds himself having to also look up at the sky before his imagination runs away with him.

“Is it just me or does that cloud look like a duck wearing high-heels?” Marinette wonders aloud.

For a second Adrien simply stares at Marinette incredulously. The thought is so abstract and outright weird that he then bursts out laughing. “What?” he manages to spit out in between wheezes of laughter. “A duck wearing – how?”

“I’m being totally serious, Agreste.” Marinette deadpans. “Look, if you tilt your head that way and then quint your eyes very, very slightly.” Adrien does as she says and actually, it does kind of look like a duck wearing high-heels. He’ll give her that one, even if it is bizarre.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a ball flies towards them. A small girl, maybe about six or seven, stands a little way away, calling out an apology and running towards them although unable to outrun the ball.

“Adrien, watch your head!” Marinette exclaims, skilfully volleying the ball in the direction of the girl from where she’s awkwardly sitting, half-twisted to face the girl, on the bench. The girl runs closer to catch the ball and thank Marinette.

“Thanks! That was really cool!” The girl gushes to Marinette, tucking the ball under her arm and brushing her messy bangs from her eyes. She grins widely and Marinette chuckles at the fact that she’s missing a tooth. “Hey, aren’t you the guy who’s on the front of all those magazines? My sister Alma has all those magazines and posters and I’m pretty sure she’s in love with you. I’m Jaqueline, by the way. I guess I’ll tell Alma that she’s out of luck because your girlfriend is way prettier than she is and she just saved your life, and your face too, I guess. My sister’s over there by the way, I should probably get back. Do you think you could teach me how to do that? Alma is too busy writing her essay. I don’t get why she would come outside just to write an essay, she said it was something about ‘changing her environment’ or something.”

Marinette flushes red for a second but quickly recovers. She’s always amazed by how much kids can just talk and talk and talk. She’s also a little startled by how fearless this kid is; didn’t anyone teach her about stranger danger?

“Okay, Jaqueline,” Marinette begins. “How about you run back to your sister and bring her over here?” Marinette suggests. She leans in to whisper conspiratorially to the child. “That way, Alma can meet my friend Adrien over here, who’s not my boyfriend, and I can teach you to volley. Sound like a plan?” She grins as Jaqueline nods in affirmation and skips back to where her sister sits.

A short while later, after a particularly shrill shriek from where Jaqueline and Alma are, Adrien is looking slightly uncomfortable but more or less calm as Alma squeals and talks and then squeals some more. He’s used to the fangirl culture, but it’s been a while since he’s had to listen to a star-struck seventeen-year-old tell him facts about…well…himself. For the most part, Alma is nice though. He glances over to where Marinette is teaching Jaqueline to volley. He didn’t know she was so good with kids, he’s really in awe of her, to be completely honest.

Marinette catches Adrien’s glance and smiles, shrugging her shoulders slightly. She turns her attention back to Jaqueline, who stands a few feet away. “You want to make sure that your hands are firmly interlocked when you volley. If your stance is strong, your volley will be strong. If you don’t have that control, you won’t be able to get the ball as high as you want. Got it?”

“Got it.” Jaqueline sticks her tongue out in concentration, readying herself as Marinette gently volleys the ball towards her. The first couple attempts are disastrous and Adrien finds himself ducking a great deal, except for one unfortunate occasion on which the ball hits him square in the face. Marinette laughs. A lot.

After about twenty minutes, Alma, somewhat mournfully, decides that it’s time for them to go. Marinette and Adrien bid the two girls goodbye, agreeing to take a picture with them before they leave, before settling on the grass to continue cloud watching.

Across the gardens, Alya and Nino sit on the edge of the fountain, hands intertwined and Alya’s head resting on Nino’s shoulder. Nino smiles fondly down at her and his heartbeat speeds up ever so slightly. Even after five years of dating he’s still as lovestruck as he was as a teenager, maybe even more so.

He wants to do something special for Alya this year, especially seeing as last year their anniversary celebration consisted of ordering an extra-large pizza and watching reruns of I Love Lucy. He has nothing against I Love Lucy, per se; after all, it was helping Alya with her English fluency for her internship, but it wasn’t necessarily how he imagined their anniversary would be spent. He’s thinking something a little fancier this year, something a little more meaningful.

Sometimes he’s not sure how he got so lucky but he figures it’s best not to question it. If this is what the Universe wants for him he’ll happily take it.

“You’re quiet, everything okay?” Alya nudges him and lifts her head off his shoulder to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m great, babe,” Nino presses a kiss to her temple. “Just contemplating whether or not I can successfully push you into this fountain without getting dragged in myself.”

Alya snorts and swats him away. She knows Nino too well at this point; when he gets quiet like that it means he’s thinking about something serious. Lord knows he can’t keep his mouth shut for more than two minutes under normal circumstances. Her eyes rest on some squirrels chasing each other around, scrambling up and down tree trunks and darting in between the fence and she wishes that, for even just a couple moments, her life could be that carefree.

“I feel like that would be us if we were animals,” Nino muses. Alya hums, she’s not sure if squirrels are really how she’d describe them but she’ll go with it. “Squirrels? What squirr- oh. No, I was looking at those two pigeons over there. They’re fighting over bread.” Nino says seriously, pointing at the birds a little behind the squirrels. Alya gives him the most disbelieving look she can.

“You’re impossible.”

“Excuse you, I thought it was incredibly romantic!”

“Remind me why I haven’t broken up with you yet?” Alya stands and begins walking back around the fountain in the direction of the bench they left Marinette and Adrien sitting at, removing her glasses to wipe them clear from where the fountain spray spattered them and muttering about how if the anniversary goes anything like this the relationship it over.

“Al, you love me.” Nino jogs to catch up with her, grabbing her hand and swinging their arms back and forth.

Alya snatches her hand back and shoots him a pointed look. “You called me a pigeon.”

“Yes, but I also called myself a pigeon. Haven’t you seen The Notebook? If you’re a bird, I’m a bird?”

Alya’s jaw drops. “You just – what – Nino…” For the first time in a long time, Alya is left speechless. (She will admit that she is a little impressed that he just quoted The Noteboook at her, but she is not impressed enough to get off her high horse).

She storms her way all the way back to the bench, huffing very audibly. Marinette and Adrien look up from where they are now lying on the grass, completely absorbed in their cloud watching. Alya’s eyes instantly focus on where their hands are resting on the ground, mere millimetres apart from brushing, before zoning back in to their upper body language. Adrien’s left arm is bent at the elbow and his head rests on his hand. His body is ever so slightly turned towards Marinette and hers to him, her right hand resting lightly on her stomach. They have absolutely no idea how cute they look; to a stranger they could be just any other couple sharing a romantic afternoon looking up at the sky. Alya makes a solemn vow that she will get them together, even if she dies trying. (Okay, that might be a little dramatic but, then again, when is it ever not dramatic with these two?)

“So, uh, how was the walk?” Adrien asks, shifting slightly so that he is facing Alya a little more.

“It was…interesting,” she responds as she sits on the grass beside them. “Nino compared me to a pigeon.”

Marinette blinks at Alya a couple times, not really sure how to respond to this. Adrien turns his head to look at Marinette seemingly trying to find out how he should react to this information. Upon seeing Marinette’s confused look, Adrien is satisfied that he is also allowed to look appropriately confused.

“I also quoted The Notebook, Al. Don’t forget that bit.” Nino sinks down to the ground and wraps an arm around Alya’s shoulder, placing an over-exaggerated kiss on her cheek with a loud smack.

“Really, Nino? Nicholas Sparks? No wonder she stormed over here with a literal black cloud over her head.” Marinette scoffs as she props herself up on one elbow. From beside her Adrien gulps slightly and hopes to God that she didn’t hear him.

“Yeah, whatever, Mari. At least I tried, don’t I get points for effort?”

“Not this time, bro.” Marinette rolls onto her back with a smirk.

“Dammit.”

“We left you some snacks,” Adrien decides that changing the subject might be a good idea. “I had to physically restrain Mari from eating them all.”

Marinette rolls her eyes. Yes, in theory he had physically restrained her, but she wasn’t going to eat them all per se. Even then, his version of ‘physically restrain’ was in fact ‘snatch pastry out of Marinette’s hands and keep box far away from her’.

Alya and Nino stretch out on the grass beside Marinette and Adrien, munching on the leftover pastries. Nino muses aloud that this is almost like a double-date, which results in much coughing and blushing from Marinette and Adrien, and Alya responds in kind, lamenting the fact that this is not a double-date.

Double-date or not, the four of them spend the next hour pointing out particularly strangely shaped clouds, laughing their way into the early evening. They’ve had a little drama along the way, but Alya reckons that this road trip is definitely starting to look up. She curls into Nino’s side as the air begins to cool. He may have called her a pigeon and quoted the cheesiest film on earth to her, but she loves him.

Also he’s warm.

#this update is so late #soz y'all #the road trip series #miraculous ladybug #tw: swearing #adrienette #djwifi #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #ml #ninalya #mlb

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