#hate it when someone doesn’t like me a little bit and my brains instant response to it is ‘wow. kill yourself NOW’

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 3

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Hyrule:

- It confusing and full of yearning.

- The Fae Folk are very affectionate in nature. Physical touches and platonic kisses are just normal. Hyrule growing up briefly with them had adopted this habit.

- You are like that as well so you’re the one to take care of Hyrule when he wanted affection. Since other then Legend, it’s awkward to ask the others.

- He finds however while he still asks/gives you affection. He gets more flustered and embarrassed when you initiated contact.

___________________________________

Admittedly Hyrule never had a clear understanding of Hylian social norms. Some things were easy to pick up when he was just traveling by himself. However, there was a lot that conflicted with Fae social norms. While yes, the Fae were more mischievous and could be borderline malicious, they are very affectionate creatures. Which was the one of many things Hyrule picked up when he was being raised by the Great Fairy.

Before you join the chain, he had to hold himself back from being overly affectionate with the group. Yes, when he had chances, he would give a quick side hug or ruffling of the hair for the younger Link’s. But nothing on the level of cuddles or small peaks on the cheek and forehead. You though! You were the one to lay the affection on everyone thick. Most if not every Hero has melted from all the complements and physical affection.

Hyrule was living his best life now with you! Cuddles are a must for the two of you. Especially when one another has been having a rough day. You’ve also gotten the others involved with this newly formed ritual. He just over all feeling comfortable and loved.

Which then leads to Hyrule’s issue. Slowly he began to feel embarrassed with every peak after he heals you. Then his heart begins to race when he is cuddled up resting his head against your chest. Even holding your hands became hard for him to stand! It felt so warm but also made him fearful. He was scared of losing you. Losing this warmth. This comfort. He wanted to keep it but scared that this feeling was to good for him.

“-and that’s what happen so far.” He was visiting the Great Fairy Cotera of Wild’s Era. He had visited her each time they visited Kakariko. Cotera gently hummed messing with his hair. “What should I do?” He looks up to the giantess worriedly. His small sisters surround him ether sitting on top of him or by his side.

Their mother hummed as she thought about his problem. “My dear sweet child.” She started after a long pause “this human… do you feel different compared to your other friends? Or with your siblings in the forest?”

Hyrule thought about it after a while shook his head. “No… I did used to feel embarrassed with the others but it was different. This is more… warm?”

“Warm?” She urges him gently to continue. “Do you hate it?”

“No…” he sounded like a child, fidgeting in his seat “I hate how anxious it makes me now.” You meant a lot to him. Hyrule knew you meant a lot to everyone too, but that normal! You’ve helped them all in some sort of way! Yet he was deep in that unidentifiable emotion towards you. He adores you. All of you. Even during your more impulsive actions he didn’t mind having to heal you. Of course, he would truly rather not heal anyone with his magic. Yet… with you giving his payment in kisses on the cheek or forehead… he can’t stay mad at you.

“Chin up little one.” Cotera lifted up his head “your feelings are valid and has a simple explanation.” Hyrule pouted slightly making her giggle a bit tapping lightly on his nose. “You my dear seem to love your sweet human.”

It was like a lanterned was just lit in a dark cave he was wandering in. Finally revealing a path out. Everything thing slowly explaining itself. “Oh…” was all he could say as he was comprehending it. His sisters were giggling at their brother’s expense causing him to blush. It all made to much sense.

“Roolie! Are you nearby?” He and the Great Fairy both perk up when they heard your voice. He stared up at the Great Fairy expectingly.

“Well?” Cotera nudged him off of the petals of her fountain. “What are you waiting for little one?”

___________________________________

- Well, that was embarrassing and he knows once he starts perusing you. The more his siblings of the forest will start to tease him. Not only that but the chain also catches on pretty quickly.

- He becomes a blushing and stuttering mess around you, not pulling away from your touch but leaning more into him.

- It will be a miracle if he confesses but he will! And he will do it in a more intimate manner though, with or without help.

___________________________________

Four:

- It took long to accept but filled with soft cotton fluff.

- Isn’t canon in the manga that the colors (minus Vio) straight up try to impress a girl they just met?

- Now I’m not saying he is like that now a days, but old habits die hard right. He probably doesn’t even recognize that he still does it.

- Honest to God the resident brain cell is the only one that new point blank what was happening. Having a “not again” moment.

___________________________________

It’s been a while since Four was back in his forage. He missed every second of it. The smithing process was the one hobby each color had in common. As Link they found it relaxing, something to get their mind off of things.

That morning was no different. Traveling on the road was stressful even for a seasoned adventurer. Traveling alone was boring which was the upside according to Red. It relieved them of responsibility Green was used to taking upon himself to carry. Blue was at least a lot calmer with having to be on alert all the time. Vio had pointed out this was mainly because of You.

The chaos came back full force. The same argument has been happening recently, it was about his feelings towards you. Now they all liked you as a friend. Four knew that for a fact. He was only six when he felt your presence and this situation, he was in was as if an imaginary friend became real! At least that’s what Red felt.

No matter if they were unified or separated, Four could trust you to help him out of even the messiest situations. So, what if some of those situations were caused by him trying to impress you? That doesn’t mean anything!

Just because Blue became a stuttering mess when you surprised Four with a flower crown just meant he was taken aback at your kindness! He isn’t good at showing his emotions. Yeah, so what about Green becoming a soft mess when you first showered him in praise and affection. Wouldn’t any person do that from someone that been through hell and back with them? It doesn’t count that Red craves your affection! He is like that with everybody and just because it makes him feel different it doesn’t count. Someone saves Vio from this.

Four was conflicted which is why he was working so early in the morning. They wouldn’t shut up about their own feelings. It was a chaotic mess inside his head as soon as he woke up. A weight on his back clued him back into reality “Good morning!” You while looking down at him smiling still holding on lazily. “How is the most beautiful person here doing?”

Ah. There goes most of composure out the window. Vio was the last one standing with Green and Blue almost hanging on. You loved to tease him and he was never able to get you back. “Don’t know how are you?” Four was really struggling to keep unified and calm. He was shaking because of the other three’s nerves. You stared at him wide eyed.

“Jeez look at you!” You give him a squeeze before finally let go of him “you’ve grown! If only you were that smooth towards Erune.” You teased.

The blush he was so desperately trying to beat down started to flare up this time out embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?” Four could only cringe when he thought back at that bit in his adventure. Him and Erune have been close friends since then, but the colors were really trying to play the hero in front of the poor girl back then. Their antics truly were really not impressing anyone.

Green was really happy he grew out of it. Seriously it‘s not like Blue really cared about it anyway he was just a kid! Red was just happy that he got a long-term friend out of it! The audacity the others had was killing Vio. They are still just as bad and it seems like no one was listening to reason.

An explosion of emotions and thoughts collided in Four’s skull. Three denying their logical side’s claim all while getting thrown every instant in their faces by the odd one out. “Whatcha making anyway?” You were observing the short knife blade curiosity not seeing the other’s internal debate. Vio felt like he had to spell it out to each of them. Pulling up memories of their actions towards the outlander. Four struggled to focus on what you were saying but it was too loud!

“Woah there.” You turn him away from his project letting it sit safely on a cooler section of the work top. “Breath Link.” You where kneeling down in-front of him holding his hand. He focused on your warmth. The way you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. On your voice that instructed him to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, let out for eight. Repeat. Slowly the divide melded back together. Soon the voices faded out. “There we go.” You whispered “good job Link.” Four stared back at you still tired from everything but nonetheless happy that your here with him.

Man, he loved you so much.

Wait-

___________________________________

- It was definitely an I told you so moment.

- Four as a whole though is still struggling to come to terms with it, even though he had already admitted his feelings.

- Another case of: drown him in affection until he realized. Not because of him not believing you! It’s just you have four people in a trench coat here! If one is conflicted then four as a whole will feel that subtly.

___________________________________

Bonus (just Headcanons):

Wind (finding out that a Link has a crush on you)

- The little gremlin is going to have a field day! He was thinking about messing around but the other hero is doing his work for him!

- The only one saved from this Black Mail harvest is you. He does have a few things but you mostly let him off the hook when he gets in trouble anyway sooooo…

- Not the best wing man but he honestly isn’t trying. He is just enjoying the journey.

- He might be tempted to help if he was asked but there isn’t much he could do. You are his right hand after all! Why would he let your secrets go so easily?

- Imagine Wind just vibes with you when the other Link is trying their best and you literally ask if the other hero was ok since they are acting weird around you. It would take Wind a minute to get an answer because all he is thinking is: ‘are you dense?’

- Or on the flip side. If you know about their feelings. He would definitely be on board of helping you out. Again, you’re his right hand! Of course, he’ll help you! (Favoritism)

- Wind: “Don't worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read their diary.” (Y/n): “He thinks it's fancy?”

(Part 1) and (Part 2)

My First Request is now done :D! That was fun. Thank you Pinky and Star for the request <3

[beccascribbles]

hcs series detailing what it is like to be a manager for the various haikyuu teams

karasuno | seijoh |

warnings - swearing

word count - 2.1k

you weren't immune to oikawa's charms, but being friends with him since middle school meant you were the least likely in the school to fall for him (you were also the least likely person he would mess with in that way, especially as iwaizumi would happily punch him for the trouble)

this meant you were a perfect candidate for manager of the team

when you all been first years, the team had come up to you and begged

ultimately, it had been iwaizumi who had finally convinced you (the sight of him almost begging you would be forever ingrained in your mind. boy did not want to be the only one responsible for oikawa)

by the time you reached your third year, you were immensely glad that you had agreed to manage the team

at times, it had been tough. dealing with oikawa's jealous fangirls often felt like a full time job. the amount of times you had sprinted into the club room to the shock of the team was ridiculous

one day, you had dived through the door, yelling for then to shut and lock the door as you crashed to the floor

iwaizumi had been by your side in an instant, worried gaze assessing you for injuries. when you let out a wince, rubbing at you arm, he was automatically assessing it for damage

"it's not broken," he assured you, giving your head an affection pat before his gaze turned to oikawa, eyes narrowing. "call your fucking fangirls off, shittykawa"

"i've tried," he whined, giving you an apologetic look. "clearly their love for me is too strong"

"maybe if they actually spoke to you, they'd realise what a crap personality you have," sighed matsukawa, slapping oikawa on the back affectionately and then holding the hand up to receive a high five from hanamaki

slowly, hesitantly, you moved over to the door, pressing your ear to the surface. through the wood, you could the girls, their high-pitched voices grating at your nerves

“i really fucking hate them,” you grumbled, moving away to sit on the floor beside hanamaki, who wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you leaned against his shoulder. “why did i let you convince me to join this club?”

this was directed to iwaizumi, who had the good idea to look sheepish. oikawa, on the other hand, collapsed down on the floor in front of you and spread out his arms. “because you love us, y/n-chan”

“not you,” you scoffed, poking him in the chest. he pouted

“that’s no way to talk to your childhood friend”

“it is when they have a swarm of jealous fangirls after you”

oikawa looked like he was about to reply, but a clip to the ear by iwaizumi was enough to distract him. he turned to his friend with a cry of outrage, beginning to bicker with the ace

while you would usually tell them to shut up, pull them apart, you couldn’t really be bothered. breaking up fights was for when you were on duty. training hadn’t started yet so you figured you could let them bicker

the second years clashed less than the third years but sometimes you were needed to break up the fights, particularly when kyoutani made a return to the team

while he was away, you had been one of the only ones who checked up on him, always telling him that if he needed to talk, if he was struggling with anything, you would be there

therefore, he had a lot of respect for you, placing you on a similar level to iwaizumi (the only member of the team who could get away with telling him what to do or scolding him angrily)

this meant that, when you appeared in front of him, placing a placating hand on his chest, his hackles would lower and he would back away, though the glare would remain on his face

truth be told, kyoutani was a little bit scared of you suddenly exploding on him, especially after the way you had snapped at him when he had first pulled off a risky play in practice

you had seen red when he had pushed kindaichi out of the way to spike the ball, marching over and grabbing him by the top to drag him away. it was the first time they had ever seen him apologise

while kyoutani respected you, the relationship you had with him was very different with the one you had with the other second years. kyoutani would never invite you to lunch. watari and yahaba on the other hand...

your week is not complete without a lunch with them. you aren’t even sure when you managed to form such a strong friendship with them, but it was likely when you agreed to help them in maths (it’s not yahaba’s strong point and he begged watari to join him)

you are the one responsible for stopping yahaba showing off, particularly when the gym floods with fangirls, most of them there to watch oikawa

he will flip his hair and affect an air very similar to oikawa which will frustrate you to no end. you will drag him off court by the ear, telling him to stop, threatening him with extra conditioning

matsukawa and hanamaki will definitely start snickering at the way his face reddens, focused more on this than the fact that they are meant to be improving their serves

you can always trust watari to help you out, no matter how much you insist that you don’t need it. he is the first to volunteer to help you set up the court, to help you carry the equipment for away games

now, the first years. if iwaizumi is the team dad, you are the mum

you dote on kindaichi and kunimi, trying to keep them away from matsukawa’s and hanamaki’s influence. you don’t want them to be corrupted by the pair. iwaizumi will help you but even he sees little point in stopping the inevitable

kindaichi was very awkward around you at the start. his brain couldn’t comprehend that a pretty girl was talking to him, let alone asking if he was okay, if he needed a drink

eventually, kindaichi relaxes. you are the one he turns to when he has a problem, explaining it all to you. if it involves another team member, you will encourage him to tell them, not wanting there to be fractures in the team. after all, aoba johsai thrives because of their great teamwork

kunimi is, as usual, very relaxed around you

most of the time, he barely acknowledges your fussing, simply waving you away and heading back onto the court to resume practice

however, if he wants to slack off (which he does often), it will be you he makes eye contact with. you know you shouldn’t condone this behaviour but, occasionally, you allow it. he promises he will pull through for the game and you believe him, though you do explain that if he slacks off too much it could mean risking his sport in the starting rotation

your quiet understanding is often what motivates him to keep going. he doesn’t want to disappoint you. plus, he has seen you angry and would rather not be the reason for that

oikawa is intimately familiar with your anger. the boy just seems to do everything possible to piss you off. what angers you most is the apparent disregard for his own health, but you don't take this out on him physically

you and iwaizumi team up to handle him, with both of you favouring a more violent approach (sometimes that's the only way to knock some sense into oikawa's brain)

while iwaizumi will throw either oikawa or various items such as volleyballs at him, you tend to favour a good old-fashioned slap to the back of the head

he always knows you're coming, his whole body tensing at the sound of your footsteps drawing closer to him. oikawa is almost more scared of you than iwaizumi, probably because you are more cold fury than fiery anger

that first night iwaizumi had asked you to stay behind after practice with him, your heart almost broke at the sight of oikawa pushing himself

you saw the sweat, watched him stumble, clutch at his damaged knee... but despite the pain, he kept pushing

as you watched, you grasped iwaizumi's hand, who was tense beside you, needing the physical anchor as much as you

"why does he do this to himself?" you questioned, watching as oikawa pushed up from the floor, landing awkwardly on his feet. still, he kept pushing

iwaizumi didn't bother to answer. the answer was obvious, and you both knew what it was. he needed to get better, for the team, for himself, for revenge

"if he keeps going like that, his knee will be permanently damaged and he can say goodbye to a volleyball career," said iwaizumi, jaw tight. hand still in yours, he marched onto the court

he finally released your hand to grab oikawa by the shirt and yank him away. his voice was a low growl as he spoke, "don't fucking complain. we've been here long enough and you're going home before you regret it"

"you're so... urgh, do you want to make me lose my mind with worry, tooru?" you sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, more to reassure yourself that he was fine than to other support. he slung an arm over your shoulder, leaning on you slightly with iwaizumi at his other side

"didn't think you cared, y/n-chan," he teased, giving you an affectionate squeeze. you caught eyes with iwaizumi, rolling your own at oikawa's words

"of course i care. we both do"

from that night on, you and iwaizumi took turns watching oikawa, stopping him when it became clear that he was doing too much

on the nights when you had to watch him, you would sit in the corner of the gym on a video chat with matsukawa and hanamaki as you tried to do some homework (to be honest, you spent most of your time joking around and chatting, but the thought was there)

oikawa, though he never showed it, was grateful for you and iwaizumi's worry. it put a check on him which he would never admit to wanting, but needed desperately

on weekends, you and the third years will always meet up, be it to do homework or just watch a movie at someone's house

movie nights tend to be quite messy (it's not uncommon to be picking popcorn out of your hair at the end)

one time, you had fallen asleep on iwaizumi's shoulder only to wake up to his head flopped against yours and a snickering oikawa and hanamaki. the pair had taken great joy in drawing a moustache and beard on your faces, while matsukawa took photos (he's usually the one who takes your group photos and sends them to everyone at the end)

managing the team is mainly fun, though it does have its cursed moments

you weren't ashamed to admit that you cried, along with the rest of the third years, when you left

however, the tears did not stop you from giving your kouhais some strongly-worded advice

yahaba was warned to not think with his dick and to try his very best to not intimidate oikawa in his quest for some fangirls

kyoutani was told that you were only a phone call away and would not hesitate to scold him if he let his anger take control over his playing style

honestly, the only thing you wished watari was luck. he'd need it, especially as there was no manager to support them next year

kunimi you told to slack off less, though you wouldn't hold it against him if he did sneak off for a little nap during the school day so long as he was energised for volleyball

with kindaichi, you simply gave him a hug and told him to keep trying his best, to not beat himself up over every mistake he made

it was oikawa who insisted on a big group hug, pulling you and a rather disgruntled iwaizumi into his arms, the rest of the team happily bundling in

and, as you hugged each other, you were thankful iwaizumi had convinced you to join the team because you knew you had made friends for life

[whumpmatsus]

I am just absolutely in love with how you write! I think I have a good iromatsu idea; after a prank gone wrong Kara gives Ichi the silent treatment to the extreme; does not talk to him, sit near him, or even stay in the same room when they're alone and even switched sleeping spots. Kara thinks it'll teach Ichi a lesson, but really it devestates Ichi and Kara tries to comfort him now.

aaaa thank you!! everyone is so nice with compliments like that, it motivates me to write more and always puts a smile on my face to hear kind words!!! <3

and ahhh this is definitely a good Iromatsu idea!! it was so much fun to write ;7;

Ichi stop being so emotionally constipated and show your feelings to your brothers, they love you and it'll make you feel better ;w;

-

In hindsight, perhaps Ichimatsu should have known better than to mess with Karamatsu’s guitar.

It would be one thing if he fucked with the leather jacket, or the sunglasses, or one of the tank tops with Karamatsu’s own face on it, because he’s pretty sure Karamatsu has an endless supply of those. His guitar, however, is something which doesn’t have a backup. It’s quite possibly the only thing Karamatsu loves more than himself, though obviously not as much as he loves his brothers.

For some stupid reason, it only hits Ichimatsu after the prank he pulls that this guitar is probably Karamatsu’s sole most important possession.

Of course, by the time it does hit him, the damage has already been done. He thought that the expression on his brother’s face would be over the top, hilarious, and the highlight of his day.

Instead, it’s burned into his brain in the worst way. When Karamatsu saw his younger brother letting the kitten in his lap bat at a ball made of his guitar’s strings, it was as if someone had just shoved a knife in his back.

God, Ichimatsu hates that kind of expression. That betrayed, wounded, raw look.

That hurts. What hurts worse is that for the rest of the day, it’s as if Karamatsu only has four brothers. Ichimatsu tries to apologize, and he’s met with Karamatsu walking out of the room entirely. No matter what he does, Karamatsu doesn’t want to be near him. He goes so far as to eat dinner in the other room with their parents rather than sit around a table with Ichimatsu.

Everyone knows what Ichimatsu did, but none of the others have ever seen Karamatsu quite so upset either. It would be a miracle if they aren’t all pissed at him, too.

The worst blow comes when they’re all getting ready for bed. Ichimatsu is more tired than usual for whatever reason, so he’s prepared to fall asleep the second his head hits the pillow. When he settles into his spot at one end of the futon, he rolls over with the intention of giving Karamatsu a gruff, apologetic hug… only to come face to face with very obviously not Karamatsu.

He hisses something about why the hell Totty is in Karamatsu’s spot, and Totty gives him the explanation that Karamatsu asked to switch tonight. “… But I’ll take the hug, though,” he teases as he cuddles up, so Ichimatsu can’t shove him away or he’ll be an asshole.

Even with the youngest sleeping soundly pressed against him, Ichimatsu barely sleeps a wink himself. He doesn’t like this. Despite the fact that he tries to convince himself he doesn’t give a shit about Karamatsu, the truth is that Karamatsu is still his big brother. The thought of admitting that he loves Karamatsu and thinks he’s cool leaves a horrible taste in his mouth, but…

He doesn’t like this.

He wanted to play a stupid prank and maybe just get on Karamatsu’s nerves a little bit. He never wanted to have Karamatsu so angry with him that he won’t speak to Ichimatsu, that he doesn’t even want to sleepnext to him.

This… hurts.

-

Although Ichimatsu may not sleep much during the night, he refuses to get up in the daytime when everyone else does.

Sometimes that’s not so worrying. The others know Ichimatsu sleeps a lot at odd hours when his depression kicks in, and rather than risk getting growled at, they often just let him sleep. As long as they can get him up in time for lunch, it doesn’t usually affect him too much.

… It’s after 2 P.M. now, though, and even with everyone knowing he’s awake, Ichimatsu won’t get out of bed.

Out of all the brothers, regardless of the fact that Karamatsu has been trying to teach his little brother a lesson, he’s probably the most worried about this. Even though he’s definitely angry about what Ichimatsu did, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to forgive him.

It was heartbreaking to see that Ichimatsu would damage something that means so much to Karamatsu. Even with how much Ichimatsu doesn’t like him, Karamatsu never thought his little brother would intentionally do anything to his guitar.

But… he did notice the look on Ichimatsu’s face every time Karamatsu gave him the cold shoulder. Combined with the fact that Ichimatsu is staying in bed, Karamatsu thinks that maybe he went a bit too far with this punishment.

Ichimatsu doesn’t even lift his head when Karamatsu pokes into their shared bedroom and calls, “Brother?”

So he creeps in a bit more. And more. And more, until he’s standing at the edge of the futon, five empty spaces away from his brother. Most of the time, he’s so good with words… even if he has to plan them out beforehand, or even if they sometimes sound painful.

Now, he doesn’t really know what to say.

“Ichimatsu…” He frowns and traces circles in the carpet with his foot. “It’s nearly three in the afternoon. Aren’t you getting up?”

What he gets in response is a listless shrug. It’s not in typical Ichimatsu fashion, though. “What’s the point? Leave me alone. You haven’t had any problem doing that so far.”

Ouch. Unfortunately, Karamatsu supposes that fair is fair.

He inches forward until he’s not too far, then lowers himself down next to Ichimatsu. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“No, you’re not. And you shouldn’t be. I’m garbage, and what I did was shitty. Shittier than you and your entire wardrobe.” Ichimatsu’s knees come up to his chest, body curling into a tight ball. “I deserve to have you mad at me for the rest of my life. You hate me and I hate myself, too. I’m…”

There’s a weird sound, like Ichimatsu is choking on his own words. “… I’m sorry. Just go away. Don’t bother with me. I’m not worth your time.”

Every word feels like there’s a vise tightening, tightening, tightening, around Karamatsu’s heart. That’s… what?? Ichimatsu really thinks that Karamatsu hates him?

He definitely wouldn’t have expected to see his younger brother so broken up about that fact. Ichimatsu often goes out of his way to avoid Karamatsu’s company, so shouldn’t he be relieved that Karamatsu stopped wanting to be around him?

A quiet moment passes before Karamatsu reaches to drape an arm over Ichimatsu. There’s practically no resistance as he pulls the fourth eldest in against him, gently rubbing his shoulder.

“I don’t hate you,” he murmurs. “It’s… true that I’m upset with you. Or at least I was. This was… I wasn’t going to shut you out forever. To be honest, I thought you would be happy that I wasn’t bothering you anymore. I anticipated that perhaps my silence would make you angry. That you might snap at me after a day or so and tell me you were sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

He shifts his hands around with the intent of trying to move Ichimatsu to face him, but stops cold when his palm meets dampness on his brother’s cheek.

Is Ichimatsu… crying??

Karamatsu freezes at that thought. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Ichimatsu cry since they were kids. Then, he pulls his little brother in closer. There’s no struggling, no protests, just a stifled sob as Ichimatsu ducks his head down.

Karamatsu rests his head against the top of Ichimatsu’s. “… Did my treatment really hurt you that badly? Are you really that anguished by the idea that I would stop wanting anything to do with you?”

There’s no response except a nod, something that Ichimatsu seems to try and stop anyway.

A soft exhale puffs against Ichimatsu’s neck, and the way he stiffens suggests that the sudden warm air sent a shiver up his spine. “I’m… so sorry. I truly didn’t believe it would hurt you so much.”

“You’re still my Karamatsu-nii-san.” The admission is followed by a sniffle as he rubs at his eyes. “Just because I’m trash doesn’t mean I don’t…”

“Ahahah… you love me. That’s it, right?” Karamatsu teases lightly. He tugs his baby brother closer still, and is surprised when Ichimatsu abruptly rolls over to bury his face against Karamatsu’s chest.

Ichimatsu’s skinny arms find their way around Karamatsu’s waist, hugging as tightly as he can bring himself to. He hates it. He hates that Karamatsu is right,and how he can’t even actually say the words himself, and crying, and everything about this. Why is anyone, even his big brother, still bothering with him?

“… Please don’t be mad at me anymore,” he mumbles. That begging voice is so small and barely even sounds like him, even to himself. “I don’t… I don’t like it.”

Karamatsu chuckles and gingerly rubs Ichimatsu’s back. It’s a little sad to consider, but their relationship has become so strained now that they’re adults, to the point that Ichimatsu being so honest about his feelings to anyof his brothers, especially Karamatsu, is rare. It would probably be easier to pull his teeth than to get him to confess that something is wrong until it’s bubbling over and he can’thide it anymore.

He holds Ichimatsu as close as he can, and it feels like Ichimatsu is trying to keep himself tiny and safe inside the embrace. A kiss is pressed to the top of Ichimatsu’s head; a shaky, tearful breath is the instant reaction. “All is forgiven, my brother. I would never dream of truly abandoning you like that. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for upsetting you to such a degree.”

He gives a cautious squeeze, reassured when Ichimatsu squeezes back. “You are one of the most important people in my world, Ichimatsu. You’re my little brother, and I love you very much, and I regret to inform you that there is most likely nothing you can do to ever change that.”

Ichimatsu relaxes, if only slightly. He’ll get up soon, and even though hearing these things isn’t a magic switch that makes him feel better about himself or what he’s done… it’s a comfort. It means that Karamatsu isn’t so angry with him that he’s been disowned.

“If you are ever hurt or insecure about any of that,” Karamatsu hums softly, “all you need to do is come find me and let yourself be held in my arms. I hope you know that.”

… Well.

If he didn’t before, he certainly does now.

[soupsword]

Dream SMP - Fear/trauma response headcanons

Trigger warnings for discussions of trauma, abuse, depersonalization/dissociation

Tommy: we all know how Tommy acts when he’s scared. He gets defensive and angry and violent. It starts out just being rude, and it devolves into attacking people over the littlest things. He either does so to stop people from ever getting a chance to hurt him, or because he is so blinded by his fear and anger that he believes they deserve his anger. He’s been raised to know that if he shows weakness, it will be taken advantage of. And, with his time being vulnerable towards Dream during exile, he’s only become acutely more aware of this.

Post prison Tommy: he’s given up on most of that anger. He will tell people, straight up, that they are scaring or hurting him, without a care. He’s been shown that being angry does nothing but get him killed, and he is trying to be more submissive now, condense himself into someone people will want to kill less. We still see his anger and his violent nature, but it’s been toned down, because he has been traumatized beyond anything he has EVER experienced.

Tubbo: people don’t seem to realize, but Tubbo has a past linear to Tommy’s. He’s been taught the same lessons, he’s just got different teachers, different abusers. He will be as angry and as violent as he needs to be, he’s just quieter. He thinks about his actions and their impact more than Tommy. But, that thinking about his actions can lead to overthinking. At times, he panics, still as angry or cold as ever, but his thoughts are racing. Is he doing the right thing? Is he failing his country? His friends? His family? He pushes past these worries, though, and makes split-second decisions at times. He is also more defense geared than Tommy, preferring to present his weapons and make his intentions to fight known before he has to strike.

Ranboo: he is the freeze and the flight. Ranboo has been taught that anger and violence lead to exile and death and destruction. He tries to be passive and to care for both sides of a fight, but it often backfires. He can be angry, yes, but he usually leaps immediately to overthinking and anxiety. This often sends him into a spiral of self hatred and anxiety. He wonders, parallel to Tubbo: is this what I should be doing? Am I even doing this? Am I here? Is this me, are these my actions?

Techno: Techno is so much more careful than most. He doesn’t start with anger. In fact, he often pushes himself into depersonalization or brain-fog in an effort to become colder, to force himself to understand situations like an outside force, not himself. This can lead to him seeming like he doesn’t care. This can also lead to him spiraling into dissociation episodes, where instead of being detached, he feels completely unreal. But, if pushed, he will get angry. He’s not the good man to run away from when he goes to war. He IS the war, cold and calculated and roaring with a thousand voices. He plans his attacks on the fly and he wins.

Phil: Phil is old. He’s grieved thousands of people, his loved ones, his friends, his families. Phil is so chock full of things that would traumatize normal mortals that it almost becomes a game to him. Fly a little closer to the sun, Icarus. Let the blade fall a little slower, Angel. He’s not reckless, but he toys with the idea. He often dissociates the same as Techno, spending days in silence after something has triggered some long past trauma. But oh, if you get him angry? You’d better kill yourself before he reaches you. In the moments he gets mad, he’s like Tommy, like Techno, like Tubbo. He’s steely and cold and violent, and his reputation has been forged from blood.

Wilbur: Mania. He is everything at once - sad, fearful, cold, angry. He switches from being terrified of something to being angry at it an instant later, manipulating the people around him into doing what he wants as soon as he realizes how to change himself for them. But he also suffers horribly from depersonalization. His actions have no meaning, right? He’s not even alive! He’s not even real! It doesn’t matter. He is self destructive and violent in general, not caring for anyone it affects until his rare moments of lucidity. When that fog clears, though, and he recognizes what he’s done? He falls apart. There’s no energy left for anger or manipulation or hate. Just awful, pervasive, desperate misery and guilt.

Feel free to add on or argue with me! Just wanted to ramble a bit.

[granolabird]

Figuring it Out

I’m extremely worried about next weeks episode, but I’ve got this weeks after-episode Hournite fic to distract everyone from that worry just a little bit. Takes place just before the end of 2x07. Rick and Beth have just recieved the news of Yolanda leaving the team and they have to process it.

Warnings: None! Just some sad little teenage superheroes.

Tagging @hournites and @blackfemmecharacterdependency (If you’d like to join the tag list feel free to ask! I post a new fic every Tuesday)

.

They’re sitting in Beth’s living room. Her parents are out again, and Beth is curled in the arm chair, not saying a word. Rick sits on the sofa, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs like he does whenever he isn’t quite sure what to say. Courtney had just called with the news that Yolanda had quit the team. Neither Beth nor Rick have said anything since Courtney broke the news. Instead they just sit in awkward silence, Ghostbusters playing on the Tv completely unnoticed. Rick had recommended another movie night to keep Beth’s mind off of things. He was not expecting everything to go this far off the rails.

Finally, Beth gets up, clicking off the Tv before turning to Rick.

“You should go.” She has tears in her eyes and she can’t quite make eye contact.

“What? Why? We were just getting to the good part, with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man!” He’s trying to keep the tone light, it’s entirely the wrong thing to say but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like there’s nothing wrong, Rick. Yolanda is off the team. She quit. She quit and it’s my fault.” Beth hasn’t moved from where she stands but her head has dropped.

“Beth-”

“No Rick. You can’t talk me out of this one. You know I’m right.”

He does. Well, not entirely. There were a lot of contributing factors to Yolanda leaving, Beth being unable to comfort her was just one small gear in a much larger machine. Right? 

“You spoke what you felt. You stuck to your morals. You wouldn’t kill Brainwave, even if you said you would’ve I think we all know you wouldn’t have. That’s okay.” Rick keeps his tone soft.

“It’s not okay. It’s completely, entirely, not okay. Yolanda quit the team because I couldn’t tell a stupid lie. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t…” At this point Beth starts to cry fully, and she slowly sinks to the floor, sobs wracking her entire form. 

Rick gets up now and makes his way over to where Beth is kneeling on the floor. Slowly, carefully, almost as if he’s trying not to spook an injured animal, he crouches in front of her and then wraps her in a hug. He doesn’t say anything, really he doesn’t know what he could say to fix this. He doesn’t think there’s anything that could fix this. So he just holds her, and she sobs into his shirt. It takes everything he has not to cry along with her.

After a few minutes, Beth leans back. Rick looks down, eyes running over her tear stained face as he tries to formulate words, but he keeps falling short.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can utter, and by Beth’s immediate recoil he knows it was the wrong thing to say.

“What do you mean?”

“You have no reason to be sorry Rick, this isn’t your fault.”

“No, but I put pressure on you back there. When Yolanda first admitted to killing Brainwave. I asked your opinion-”

“If you didn’t ask, someone else would’ve Rick. Honestly I’m glad it was you that asked. If Courtney or Yolanda had, I think things would’ve gone even worse.”

“I mean, if I gave the answer I did, and they asked... I don’t know. I just. I don’t know.”

Beth isn’t even sure what she’s saying at this point, so overwhelmed by guilt and uncertainty and-

Rick is hugging her again.

He’s pulled her close, and just keeps holding her. She can tell by his heavy breathing that he’s really trying not to cry. Beth feels like that’s her fault too, which makes her feel even worse.  She should feel embarrassed, or excited that he’s holding her so close, or really anything else than the soul-crushing guilt that she’s feeling right now. But that’s all that she has. She is completely consumed by it, and she doesn’t know what to do. 

“I’m proud of you.” Rick’s head is resting atop Beth’s and she feels his chest rumble as he speaks.

“What?”

“I’m proud of you, Beth.”

She pulls away from him again, and looks up at him through tear-blurred eyes.

“I feel like you should be feeling the exact opposite of that right now.”

“No, I don’t think any of us made the situation better. I don’t think there was anything we could’ve said that would’ve made that situation better, really.”

“No. You told Yolanda the truth. You told her exactly how you felt, and didn’t sugar coat it. I tried to make it seem like I would’ve done the same thing, tried to spare her the guilt, and I think that hurt her more. She knew I wouldn’t have killed Brainwave. But I tried to convince her I would’ve to try and make her feel better. I think it just made her feel worse.” He runs one hand through his hair, keeping his other hand on Beth’s back.

“I don’t think what I said made her feel any better.” Beth manages a sarcastic laugh, and Rick half smiles, shaking his head. 

“I guess.”

There’s a pause in the conversation and Beth takes that as an opportunity to let her mind wander. She sits, thinking of all the different ways that conversation with Yolanda could’ve gone. All the things she could’ve said. She tries to make the outcome good. She tries to imagine lying to Yolanda, backing up Rick that yeah, anyone would’ve killed Brainwave in that situation. Yet she can still see the guilt and betrayal in Yolanda’s eyes, the knowledge that Beth wouldn’t really do that. And Rick is right, seeing that look, even if it’s imagined, somehow hurts more. With a shaky sigh Beth leans forward, placing her forehead against Rick’s chest, resigning to her fate.

“I hate this.” She says quietly, trying to hold back more tears.

Rick has both his arms around Beth again, and he’s staring off into the distance at who-knows-what.

“Yeah, I know. I hate this too.”

“What do we do?”

“We just keep going. When Yolanda feels comfortable, she’ll come back to us. Until then, I guess we'll wait.”

“I hate waiting.”

“You’re doing a lot of hating tonight Beth, that isn’t like you.” It’s half a joke, half a genuine concern on Rick’s behalf.

“I feel like it’s warranted. There’s a lot to be upset about.” 

Rick just gives a small chuckle and nods slowly, though Beth can’t see him, her head still leaning against his chest.

“So, uh, do you want to finish Ghostbusters?” Rick offers awkwardly after a while of silence. 

“I’ll be fine, Beth. We can keep watching the movie.”

Beth slowly pulls back and shakes her head.

“It’s getting late. I don’t want you to drive home in the dark and get hurt. I don’t think I could deal with that.” It’s the honest truth. She’s at her wits end.

“No, no it’s alright. I should probably go to bed early anyway, I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep after all of this.” Beth gets up, letting Rick's hands slide from her back as she moves to clean up a half-empty bowl of popcorn from the table.

Rick accepts that Beth wants to be alone, and so he helps her clean up, moving cups and bowls into the kitchen alongside her in silence.

Finally, when everything is put away, Rick grabs his jacket and heads for the door. Beth follows him, her footsteps wobbly and unsure. 

“Right, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay.” Rick is scanning Beth’s face again. 

He knows he does that too often but he can’t help himself. He always wants to know what she’s thinking inside that beautiful brain of hers. He wants to be able to see all her worries and whisk them away in an instant. Unfortunately he’s not that talented.

“Alright.” Beth crosses her arms and rubs them idly as she steadies her breathing.

“If something is wrong, or you can’t sleep, or your parents start fighting again, or anything, you can call me. I’ll be home, so I’ll answer right away. I promise.”

“Okay. Thanks, Rick.”

Rick simply smiles in response.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright?” He has to ask one more time, just in case.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep. We can figure out what to do next in the morning.”

Rick nods slowly. He wants to say something more, something that would fix all of this but he can’t, so he just keeps nodding.

“See you tomorrow, Beth.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She can’t bring herself to make eye contact, and that is enough to almost rip Rick’s heart in two. 

He manages to keep his composure, though. It’s only when he’s down Beth’s driveway in the safety of his car that he lets himself break. Lets himself lean against the steering wheel and cry. He doesn’t cry very often, but this is all too much at once. Rick feels like he’s being torn apart. Between Yolanda leaving the team, trying to figure out what to do with Grundy, trying to help Beth with her parents divorce, as well as trying to comprehend his feelings for Beth, it’s just all too much. It’s too much and it’s eating him alive. He manages to calm himself enough to drive, and slowly he backs his way out of the driveway. As he goes, he sees the silhouette of Beth in her bedroom window. He half wonders if she’s watching him go. He hopes she is. 

Beth watches Rick’s car drive away, her eyes tracking it’s bright yellow paint until it goes around a bend and she can’t see it anymore. She presses her forehead to the window, and it feels so cold and uninviting. She finds herself wishing it was Rick’s chest again. It wasn’t much, but he had made her feel at least a little better. She half wishes she had asked him to stay. She would’ve felt a lot safer if he were still around. She ignores that thought as well as the strange sense of dread that threatens to overwhelm her. Instead she gets ready and tucks herself into bed. In Beth’s mind, she replays all the scenarios of her confrontation with Yolanda until she finally sinks into a fitful sleep. 

In the morning she’ll call Rick and they’ll figure things out. They always do.

[schrijverr]

A Phony Boyfriend

After moving into the dorms, class 1-A discovers that Bakugo is constantly on his phone. This leads to them discovering he has a boyfriend and going on a quest to find out as much as they can while Bakugo comes to terms with the fact that High School will be different than Middle School as well as his internalized homophobia.

On AO3.

Ships: Bakudeku

Warnings: mentions of past homophobia, internalized homophobia and fear of homophobia (no one is mean to them, dont worry)

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

Since moving into the dorms they had learned a lot about the others that they had not realized before.

Sato could bake really well, Iida had a really strict and strange work out routine, Jiro always had music in when she cooked, Momo liked tea, especially fancy tea, and Bakugo was completely glued to his phone after school.

The last one was very surprising, since Bakugo had never seemed like a phone person, usually ignoring texts and calls and never having his phone in class.

However, since they lived with him it became apparent that he was prone to typing away on his phone and ignoring everyone else in the room. He was still strict to himself about phone usage during school hours, but after school was out, it was fair game.

Naturally this made them curious to what their explosive classmate was doing on his phone, so after a few weeks Hagekure cracked. She fell on the couch next to Bakugo and asked: “What you doing?”

“Nothing,” Bakugo grumbled.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” she replied innocently.

Bakugo rolled his eyes and said: “Just messaging people and stuff,” before going back to ignoring her.

“Your parents?” she asked, she was gaining an audience and she wanted to deliver as the person who had been brave enough to ask what all had been wondering.

“No,” was Bakugo’s curt response.

Hagakure’s eyes lit up and she sat up in excitement and asked: “A girlfriend?”

Bakugo wrinkled his nose and again said: “No.”

At this point Mina joined the conversation, as a patented pansexual, she felt this shouldn’t be the end of the investigation. So she asked: “A boyfriend, maybe?”

The effect was instant. Bakugo’s stilled and he stopped typing as he avoided their gazes even more than before and a light blush spread across his cheeks. His scowl deepened and he growled: “Shut the fuck up.”

It didn’t work, because the two girls gasped as they exclaimed: “Oh my god!” and “You have a boyfriend?”

“I said shut up,” Bakugo yelled, blushing even harder.

“But that’s so cute,” Hagakure whined, “You have to tell us more.”

“Yeah, Bakugo, you can’t leave us hanging after a revelation like that,” Mina pouted.

“I can and I will, now leave me alone,” Bakugo said, getting up.

“You’re not even going to tell us his name?” she asked.

“No,” Bakugo stomped off, his fingers once again dancing over the keyboard.

The two pouted harder, but didn’t pester him more. They were beyond curious, but also weren’t about to pry in their classmate’s life if he was uncomfortable with it. Still that didn’t stop them from theorizing.

“What do you think is his type?” Mina asked first.

“Probably tough and mean,” Hagakure replied, “They probably do stuff like boxing together and yell at movies.”

“Yeah, or they throw rocks and stuff,” Mina added.

“First off, this is such a weird thing to talk about,” Kirishima interrupted, “Second off, you two have no clue what people do on dates.”

“Oh, and you do, Eijiro?” Mina asked, “Do tell what you think Bakugo and his mystery boyfriend do on their dates.”

“Probably normal stuff, like drinking coffee and talking,” Kirishima shrugged, “I never really thought about my friend’s dating life.”

“You’re not even a but curious?” Hagakure asked.

“Of course I am, I’m just not going to theorize about it,” Kirishima said.

“Boring,” Mina booed, “Kaminari, Sero, Jirowhat do you think?”

“I think Bakugo would be surprisingly romantic,” said Kaminari.

“And I think you finally lost the last of your brain cells, Kaminari,” Mina jeered.

“That does seem unlikely,” Hagakure agreed.

Sero thought about it, then said: “I think he’s more of grand and flashy stuff, like his quirk. Maybe he does the flowers and stuff.”

“Where are the explosions here!” Mina complained.

“I don’t think he’s exploding his boyfriend, Mina,” Jiro pointed out.

While downstairs they were arguing about whether or not Bakugo would use explosions to be romantic, Bakugo himself was in his bedroom, panicking and calling Izu. “It must suck that you didn’t get to tell them in your own time, Kacchan,” Izu said, “But they sound like they reacted well, right?”

“I mean, yes, but what if they think it’s gross?”

“Kacchan, don’t call us gross,” Izu said sternly, “I thought you were getting better with the internalized stuff.”

“I know, I know, just- Ugh!” Kacchan let out a cry of frustration.

“It’s okay, Kacchan, I love you.”

And wasn’t that a soothing balm on all the turmoil in his brain. He couldn't help, but smile as he returned the sentiment: “I love you too, Izu.” Apause. “I’m sorry about freaking out on you, I truly love you, but I just panicked, because the class has been really cool and it would suck if they turned out to- you know?”

“I know, Kacchan, I understand,” Izu said, “But they sounded like they were cool, don’t ruin it for yourself for the small chance that they do. You’re amazing, they just have to deal with it.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Kacchan sighed.

“Damn, I didn’t know my own boyfriend hated me all the time,” Izu teased.

“Shut up, you shitty nerd.”

“Never, Kacchan.”

“Good.” It was quiet for a moment, then Kacchan said: “I’m probably overreacting. I know that Kirishima is cool. He has two moms, loves them to death.”

“There you go,” Izu encouraged, “I like Kirishima from what you told me, he’ll be on your side if anyone’s a dick about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, he is, the idiot,” Kacchan said fondly.

“I’m so glad you made friends.”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean? I can make friends.”

“Everyone at kindergarten was afraid of you, Kacchan.”

“You weren’t and I bet it wasn’t everyone.”

“Okay, okay, but you can be an acquired taste,” Izu conceded, “What I meant to say is that I’m glad you have people in your corner, Kacchan. You know. Now that I can’t be there with you all the time. Or hardly any time.”

Kacchan nodded, he knew how worried Izu could get about stuff and he knew what the underlying message was. He replied: “I miss you too, Izu.”

There was a small little content huff from the other side of the line, then Izu said: “I have to go eat now, Kacchan. Update me on if it goes well, okay? I love you.”

“Love you,” Kacchan said right before the line went dead. He looked at the clock and groaned, he really should be going down for dinner as well.

On a logical level, he knew most – if not all – of class 1-A would be cool about him being gay and having a boyfriend, but a small part worried that his friends would fall away and turn on him, like they’d done in Middle School.

So with slight apprehension, he made his way downstairs.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with some bustling about to make everyone dinner and to set the table, where some were trying to quickly finish some homework. It was normal, peaceful and Bakugo was dreading its end.

Kirishima noticed him first and waved: “Oi, Bakubro, can you help me with this Math problem, Mina is being mean about it.”

“I’m not mean, he’s just stupid,” Mina protested.

All had decided to drop the subject of the mystery boyfriend for now. Especially after they’d gotten a lecture from Iida about prying into people’s business and when Fumikage had said: “Dark, the mind can be, when demons of the past have not yet been dismissed.”

It made them realize that maybe Bakugo wasn’t comfortable with the revelation and it had made them feel terrible.

So, they didn’t say a thing.

Cautiously Bakugo made his way over to Kirishima, trying to see if this was a set up or if they had really blessed him with silence.

Kirishima was really struggling with a Math problem. Bakugo knew it wasn’t a set up both because Kirishima would be too honest for it and because it was a problem he had struggled with in the past and could never seem to get.

Beside him Mina was painting her nails. Bakugo saw that her thumb and pinky were black, but the other fingers were painted in the pan flag colors. A bit of relief, loosened in his chest.

Mina saw him looking and smiled, before winking and going back to work on her other hand, while Bakugo explained to Kirishima again that if a full circle was 360 degree, half a circle would be 180 degrees, so the triangle corner couldn't be more than a 180 degrees.

During dinner it was as peaceful as it would get and Bakugo felt himself relaxing.

He didn’t stick around to figure out if the peace would last, instead fleeing to the patio out front and leaning against the wall as he watched the stars. Silently he wished Izu could be there with him and point out the constellations.

His peace was in the end broken by Kirishima, who lowered himself next to Bakugo. He was quiet for a moment, then asked: “Is he treating you right?”

“What?” Bakugo couldn't help but be slightly confused.

“The boyfriend, is he good to you?” Kirishima asked.

“Are you going to defend my honor otherwise or something,” Bakugo rolled his eyes, immensely surprised when Kirishima’s response was: “Yes, if I have to.”

It touched Bakugo’s heart in a way he wasn’t ready to deal with so he just softly said: “He is. Good, I mean. He’s very good. The best, actually. Maybe a bit better than the best.”

That made Kirishima smile. He liked that his friend had someone in his corner, who wasn’t in the middle of the chaos that was their life and could support him. He nodded: “That’s good to hear, Bakubro. I’m happy for you.”

After that it was quiet.

Then, in the softest voice, which was so vulnerable that it broke Kirishima’s heart in little pieces while simultaneously it made him want to punch someone, Bakugo asked: “You are?”

“Yeah, of course, what else should I be?”

“I- I don’t know, disappointed? Angry?” Bakugo sounded helpless in his own confusion.

“Why?”

“That it’s a he.”

Kirishima hated how quickly Bakugo had the answer to that question, so he pulled Bakugo into a side hug and said: “I will never be angry or disappointed because of that. I swear it. And no one else will be either, and if they are they’ll deal with my fists and then with the principle.”

“Thank you,” Bakugo whispered.

“No problem,” Kirishima said back.

They sat there for a moment, then Kirishima confessed: “I’ve been send by the others, because I was least likely to get blown to bits. Uhm, most wanted to say sorry for prying and also that they support you.”

Bakugo chuckled at that. In the silence he had come to terms with the fact that High School might be different and an elated feeling had loosened in his chest. He grinned: “That’s good. Did they also send you to spy?”

Kirishima blushed and quickly said: “I wasn’t going to.”

“So yes?”

“Yes.”

“Well, tell them thanks and also that it’s none of their business, but also that they will catch my hands if I hear them badmouthing him, because he’s an angel.”

“I will,” Kirishima rolled his eyes, then got up, “I’ll give you your time here. Don’t stay out too late.”

“Yes, mom,” Bakugo stuck out his tongue and got a similar gesture in return.

In the end no one saw Bakugo until the next morning, where he pretended nothing had ever happened. Though he did carry himself more lightly and Mina spotted a small rainbow key chain on his bag, which made her smile.

But since he wasn’t acknowledging it any further, neither were they. They would keep their silence until Bakugo was ready to talk about it.

However, they were also way too curious about the mysterious boy that had managed to captivate the most stand-off and anti-social person in their class. The one who had the hardest time befriending people.

He should be lucky they lasted two weeks.

After those two weeks they couldn't take it anymore. So, when Bakugo was once again typing away on his phone Mina exclaimed: “I can’t do this anymore, Bakugo you have to tell me more about your secret boyfriend. I demand to know as fellow queer in crime.”

“You demand to know as nosy asshole, raccoon,” Bakugo retorted.

“Then I demand to know as nosy asshole, just tell me something, anything,” she practically begged.

“Well, if you must know, we’re talking about All Might,” he told her.

“Is he a fan?” Mina would take any bit of information and she watched in wonder as something in Bakugo’s face turned gentle and a smile creeped up his face. He nodded: “The biggest one out there, the idiot.”

“Does he want to be a hero too?” she asked.

“Nah,” Bakugo said, “He wanted to, for a long time, but he’s actually on his way to become a nurse, specializing in hero incidents and support. Always talking about being my back up and making sure I don’t die from recklessness.”

Mina couldn't help but smile at the fond tone in Bakugo’s voice and she mentally adjusted the picture of rough-stone-throwing-hooligan to a softer yet strong teen, who carried an injured Bakugo through the streets.

“That’s so cute,” she squealed.

Bakugo rolled his eyes at her reaction, but secretly agreed. It was very cute how worked up Izu would get over his safety and how he fussed over every little injury while scolding him.

Still, he didn’t give her more information than that, because Izu had finally finished typing his half analysis, half rant over the latest All Might incident report. He was arguing that All Might was loosing power, which Bakugo thought was kinda stupid, so he had to go an tell him that.

With Mina not being completely shut down, the floodgates opened with Hagakure asking about Izu when they were sitting on the couch and Sero during lunch, while others also tried to get a bit of information out of him.

All curious about Izu.

Bakugo would never admit it to another breathing soul, except Izu, but he was touched that they cared so much. That they weren’t trying to ignore the gay part, but were actively trying to learn more about it.

“Then why don’t you say anything, Kacchan?” Izu asked after he had told him about it.

“Because I like having you for myself,” Kacchan pouted.

“Ahw, how sweet,” Izu smiled, he liked how Kacchan would say the most romantic things, just because he was honest at heart and meant it.

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, but Kacchan, it was super sweet, I like the idea of a secret romance, it’s very cute,” he smiled, “But I’m afraid you’ll have to do it by yourself, I showed my friends pictures of you and they follow me online.”

“So you do care about me,” Kacchan teased, knowing how much the other did.

“Of course, I do. You’re the greatest and I love you very much.”

“Love you too.”

“Did you manage to get permission to leave next weekend? Because I can make it home as well and mom promised she’ll make both curry and katsudon, if you come over,” Izu said.

“I still have to hear back from Aizawa-sensei,” he replied, “But I really want to. I need to ask auntie her recipe, mine hasn’t been turning out like hers.”

“You made curry?”

“Yeah, it was my turn to cook and I wanted curry,” Kacchan shrugged.

“That’s so funny to picture,” Izu giggled.

The sound of his boyfriend’s giggles made his heart lighter, but he still said: “Oi, what’s that supposed to mean, I’m a good cook!”

“I guess you’ll have to show me sometime.”

“I will, just you wait.”

“Looking forward to it.” There was a short lull in conversation, then Izu asked: “Have you been eating alright? Since you have to cook, are the others doing their part? A good diet is important, especially with all the physical stuff you have to do. We’re currently having a nutrition course and I’m worried about you.”

“I’m eating fine, Izu, promise,” Kacchan said, “There have been a few we had to ban from the kitchen, but we’re eating fine. I was about to grab a snack actually.”

“Good to hear. What are you grabbing?”

“I don’t know yet. And I’m not grabbing it just now, I’m still talking to you and that’s way more fun.”

“Why can’t you do both?”

“What?”

“I mean, I think I can survive it if you grab a snack while talking to me, Kacchan. I believe in your multitasking skills.”

“That’s not the concern, Izu,” Kacchan whined.

“Ahw, come on. Pretty please, Kacchan? I can help you pick a snack! I have my notes here, I know everything about ultimate snacking,” Izu was starting to get excited, “Just tell me what you’ve eaten and I’ll figure out what nutrients you missed today. They gave us charts.”

Kacchan knew the moment that hint of excitement crept into Izu’s voice, he would be sold. He just couldn't say no to that, so he relented: “Okay, okay,” before telling Izu what he wanted to know and going to the kitchen.

A few of his classmates that were still left at that hour looked up when he entered, some raising their brow at the phone squished between his shoulder and ear. To those he gave a middle finger, because he was too busy listening to Izu ramble to want to talk to them.

“So, what options do we have?” Izu’s voice rang in his ear.

“Got some leftover rice, pocky, umeboshi, some peaches and taiyaki,” he listed, “And like condiments and raw stuff, but I’m not cooking.”

As the only one of their friends here Kaminari was listening in and getting more confused by the second. Why would Bakugo be listing what they had in their kitchen of all things?

Kacchan waited as he listened, before saying: “Oh, really?”

His voice was genuine as if he was interested in the answer he received. He grabbed the rice and listened to whatever the person on the other side of the line was saying.

Then Kacchan said: “You’d do that for me?” a beat, “Wait, wait a second, idiot. I don’t have anything to write here. No, you don’t have to type it out, I can write,” then he hurried up the stairs with his bowl.

The next morning Kaminari asked what that was about and Bakugo shrugged: “Izu’s taking a course about nutrients, he made me an eating chart.”

“Izu?” Kaminari repeated, thinking it was a professional Bakugo went to to stay in shape. He didn’t think it improbably that Bakugo would call a professional idiot.

But then Bakugo blushed and cursed slightly and even Kaminari could put together who the name actually belonged to.

His eyes went wide with the realization.

Bakugo had been secretive about his boyfriend, telling everyone to stop being nosy dicks, which did not at all discourage anyone from trying to find out more, curiosity being fulled by mystery.

Kaminari did the smart thing and stopped talking, only mentioning it to the other during lunch, which surprisingly Bakugo did nothing with.

He didn’t mind that much, he was just scared that if ‘boyfriend’ actually became a person, people would freak out, but so far they all had been nice and Izu was encouraging him to get out of his shell and find confidence in who he was. He also felt like Izu deserved all the praise and not someone who he thought was ashamed of him.

Because he wasn’t.

Bakugo was incredibly proud of his boyfriend, who was not only a lovely and amazing person, but also very talented and deeply caring, while managing to be smart on top of it all.

So when during lunch Kaminari - albeit with an apologetic look - asked: “Izu pick that out for you?” he just sighed, before nodding.

Mina perked up immediately and looked between Bakugo and Kaminari, then back, before her eyes got big with excitement and she asked: “Izu is your boyfriend’s name?”

Deciding to just give in on that point, he explained: “Yeah, well, it’s- it’s a nickname, but it feels weird to say his full name.”

“And I’m guessing you’re not going to give us his full name so we can look him up,” she pouted, already scrolling through the location tag of Bakugo’s home to see if she could find a username with Izu in it.

“No,” Bakugo chuckled, “And you’re not finding him there either. He’s in Tokyo right now.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s becoming a nurse right?” Kirishima recalled.

“Isn’t there that really big nursing school in Tokyo?” Jiro commented, “I heard it’s very prestigious.”

“It is,” Bakugo bragged, “Izu got in top of his class.”

“That’s so cool,” Kaminari said, “Your eating schedule must be super good then.”

Bakugo nodded: “Yeah, he was already working on it. He picked me to focus on for the hero they would have to make a schedule for. He’s an idiot, but it’s sweet, I guess.”

“Ahww,” some of the others commented, before the conversation moved on from there.

He was in a good mood with his friends remembering stuff he’d told them and getting to brag about his boyfriend a bit. A boyfriend that he would probably see that weekend.

The very next day that was gone, he came into class with Aizawa, arguing with his teacher: “You have to let me go, sir. Why can’t I go? Please, you don’t understand.”

“I understand Bakugo, but whatever you have planned can wait another week,” Aizawa said.

“It can’t, it has to be this week.”

“Then I’m very sorry for you, but too many students are already leaving, there just isn’t a spot free. It happens,” Aizawa explained.

“But sir-”

“No, Bakugo, end of discussion,” Aizawa cut him off, leaving Bakugo frustrated and upset. He had his fist and jaw clenched and he was hunched in a fighting stand while simultaneously managing to look very small.

“Bakubro?” Kirishima asked tentatively, “What happened?”

He didn’t want to be this upset, but he had fucking missed Izu so much and he had been looking forwards to it and then it had been crushed right before his eyes. Much to his horror tears were beginning to gather in his eyes.

“Bro?” Kirishima asked again.

“I can’t go home this weekend,” he finally managed to get out, fighting off the tears, “Izu gets to go home too this weekend and we were going to spend it together. I- I just want to see him again, but the spots to go home for the weekend are already full.”

“Oh, Bakugo, that must suck so hard,” Mina sympathized.

Others had similar sentiments, no one had ever seen the explosive blond like that. Then help came from the most unlikely source, Todoroki. He said: “You can have my slot.”

“Really?” Bakugo asked, not even insulting the other boy.

Todorokithought of the awkward and painful family dinner he would have to attend, before nodding firmly: “Yeah, I have nothing important. It can be rescheduled easily.”

“Thank you, Icy-Hot,” Bakugo grinned, lighting up immediately.

Henodded back and that was the end of the conversation.

The weekend came and Bakugo practically ran out of the dorm Friday afternoon, yelling a quick goodbye and muttering something about train arrivals when he passed.

He was on time for the train, even managing to snatch up some flowers on his way to the station and before he knew it, he had an excited green haired boy in his arms again.

It all passed by much faster than Bakugo wanted and before he knew it he was walking back into UA with only memories of doing homework together, picnicking in the park they used to explore as kids, whispering till deep in the night and laughing together in the kitchen.

When he got back the others noticed how he carried himself slightly different and they tried to pry details out of during lunch. He told them nothing more besides: “It was fun.”

Until they were in the dorms and Bakugo walked up to Todoroki, obviously not wanting to, with something in his hands. He trusted out a little packed and said: “Izu would be mad if I didn’t give these to you. They’re a thank you for giving up your spot.”

“Oh, uhm, thank you…” Todoroki said, inspecting the packet.

“They’re cookies, dumbass. You’ve seen those before,” Bakugo snapped.

Mina jumped on his back and cooed: “Ahw, did Izu make cookies.”

“More, me and auntie,” Bakugo snorted, “Izu can do much, but he’s a disaster in the kitchen. He manged to burn water once, that was an experience.”

“I didn’t know you can bake,” Sero said.

“It’s not really I do often and auntie is better at it, I just know how not to burn stuff,” Bakugo shrugged.

“The opposite of your quirk,” Kaminari joked, getting some laughs.

“But you and Izu baked together?” Mina got them back on topic, “What else did you do?”

“None of your business, raccoon,” Bakugo informed her, finally getting her off his back.

She shrugged: “Worth a try.”

“Can I see the cookies, Todoroki?” Hagakure asked.

“Oh, sure,” Todoroki showed her the cookies and she giggled: “They’re All Might shaped.”

“Really?” other went to go see and the cookies were indeed in the shape of All Might’s head with pink icing on it.

“It was the only one we had,” Bakugo blushed, omitting that there had been heart shaped ones as well and he had a packet of those himself that Izu decorated, while he had decorated the ones Izu had taken with him to Tokyo.

After the others tricked Todoroki out of most of his cookies, they went to get started on all the homework they’d gotten today.

Everyone had been nothing but positive about his boyfriend, even his self appointed nemesis had given up his own weekend home for him to go see Izu. With all the nice reactions, Bakugo was pretty certain it wouldn’t be a repeat of Middle School and was commenting more and more about things related to Izu.

He commented that Izu would have loved seeing everyone training to upgrade their quirk, because he loved quirks in general, but especially weaknesses and how they could turn on the user and how to avoid that.

And he explained that katsudon was Izu’s favourite food when they asked him how he’d gotten so good at making it.

But all the good things couldn't stop the bad nights that still plagued him.

So when he had awoken from a nightmare, he called Izu awake, knowing that the other told him to not feel guilty about and to just do it.

In the end he found himself on the kitchen floor, feeling much calmer while Izu finished his story of what a classmate had done that day. When he was done it was quiet for a moment, then Kacchan softly said: “Thank you, Izu.”

“Of course, Kacchan. Try to sleep, okay?” Izu replied, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Kacchan returned, before hanging up.

After he’d hung up, he noticed a form in the doorway. He looked up and saw Kirishima standing in the doorway in his pajama pants. He looked like a deer in headlight and said: “I haven’t been listening in, I just got here.”

“It’s fine,” Bakugo sighed, “free world.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Kirishima noticed the state Bakugo was in.

“No, I just like calling my boyfriend in the middle of the night while he needs his rest as well for fun,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t worry, just tired,” Bakugo rubbed his eyes, regretting snapping at Kirishima, when the cheery boy was one of the last people to deserve it.

Kirishima sat down next to him and said: “It’s okay. I can’t imagine you’re here because you want to be.”

“Tell me about it,” Bakugo rolled his eyes, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“Nah, I got thirsty,” Kirishima said, “Do you want to talk about what woke you up?”

“Not really, Izu already forced me to tell him that was enough for one night,” Bakugo told him, “I was gathering the energy to go back to sleep again.”

“Good that you’re at least talking to someone,” Kirishima said, “Here, I’m making us tea, then we’ll go back to bed together. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

They didn’t speak of the meeting the next morning nor after that, but Kirishima did take up the habit of asking Bakugo if he’d slept well, earning him an eyeroll and Bakugo telling he already had one mother hen in his life.

Though he did answer every time.

It was just life in the dorms. Everyone had gotten used to living with the others and slowly they were becoming more comfortable with each other and turning into a slightly dysfunctional and highly chaotic family.

Which meant that by the time Bakugo was comfortable calling Izu in the common area the others had no qualms about interrupting him.

He had called Izu more often, but usually walked out of the room after a few minutes. However that time period had become longer and longer and he had been talking to Izu for nearly 45 minutes already, mostly telling him about his own day and listening to Izu talk about his.

Right now the conversation had wondered to a recent villain take-down by The Lurkers and the strategy team up of Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods.

So, Mina walked over and whined: “This is boring, Bakugo. Here, gimme the phone,” as she grabbed for his phone.

He ducked and shouted: “Oi, raccoon, leave me the fuck alone.”

“But Bakugo, I wanna talk to Izu,” Mina pouted, grabbing for the phone again, “You’re being boring and it’s not fun to listen in if you’re talking about heroes. We already hear about heroes constantly.”

“You’re not talking to him, piss off,” Bakugo danced away from Mina’s hand, but she was on his tail and they were running around the table.

As they ran Izu’s confused voice came over the speaker: “Kacchan?”

“Sorry, Izu, I’m being chased!” Bakugo yelled.

“Are you okay?” Izu asked concerned.

“Yeah, just a raccoon on my tale.”

“I’m not a raccoon!”

“You mean Mina?” Izu laughed.

“Yes!” Bakugo yelpedright as he tripped onto the couch. Mina immediate took the chance and jumped to wrestle the phone out of his hands.

Success.

She ran off with her prize, holding the phone to her ear as she greeted: “Hi, Izu! I don’t know your full name, but I’m Mina, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Mina, I’m Izuku,” a light and friendly voice greeted her.

“Bakugo only ever gives us grains about you,” Mina said, “So, tell me more.”

“Oh, uhm, I- I don’t really know. I- uh, I like heroes, you were really cool at the sports festival, I was really rooting for you,” Izu answered, voice getting more steady once he got talking about her quirk, “I do hope you’re immune to your own acid or that would be a problem.”

“It’s not a problem, but it’s fun that your brain jumps to that with you becoming a hero nurse,” Mina said.

“Oh, haha, didn’t even realize that,” Izuku chuckled awkwardly.

At this point Bakugo had freed himself from Sero and Kaminari, who had aided Mina in her quest to talk to Izuku and was going after her again, while having the two boys on his own trail, who in turn had Kirishima after them to stop them from stopping Bakugo.

Mina set off running again, panting into the phone: “Your boyfriend is chasing me, help. What do I say to calm him down? You’re the Bakugo whisperer.”

Izuku laughed at that, before telling her to put him on speaker. She did and he called out: “Kacchan, Kacchan!”

“Nerd,” Bakugo yelled back, “Are you okay.”

“I’m fine, Kacchan,” Izuku shouted back, “It’s fun, come on, it’s not the end of the world. Pinky promise I won’t tell them about the ant incident.”

Bakugo stopped chasing Mina, much to her delight and surprise. He just walked over to her, no more threatening steps, and just said: “You promise?”

“I promise,” Izuku said, “You can put me on speaker and I can say hi to people. I heard so much about them, but never even said hi. Pretty please?”

“Okay, okay.”

Sero coughed: “Whipped,” and subsequently got an elbow in the side from Mina, who didn’t want this opportunity to get taken from her.

Bakugo took the phone back and walked to the couch, where he sat down. Mina, Hagaure, Kaminari, Sero and Kirishima all crouched around the phone and Jiro also made her way over from where she had been ignoring most of the chaos.

Izuku greeted everyone first: “Hi, I’m Midoriya Izuku, it’s nice to meet you all, whoever is there with Kacchan right now.”

Kaminari giggled: “Kacchan.”

“Shut up,” Bakugo blushed.

“I’m Kaminari Denki,” Kaminari ignored Bakugo.

“I m Kirishima Eijiro.” Kirishima said cheerily, “Hi!”

“Sero Hanta, nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Hagakure Toru, I’m so excited to hear from you.”

“Oh, and I’m Jiro Kyoka,” Jiro added.

“And I’m still here as well!” Mina said.

“Hello everyone,” there was clearly a smile in Midoriya’s voice, “I’ll try to remember all your names, some are familiar, so I think I’ll manage, but sorry if I mess up.”

“Of course, no problem,” Hagakure said.

“Do you have anything embarrassing about Bakugo we could use against him?” Kaminari asked.

“Probably,” Midoriya said, “Though, I don’t know if he’ll like metelling you. He can be a bit grumpy when I turn on him and I would like to keep my cuddle privileges.”

“I doubt you can loose them with how Bakugo raves on about you,” Kirishima said, hardening his side for the elbow he knew was coming.

“Ahw, he talks about me?” Midoriya said.

“It’s adorable,” Hagakure told him.

“That’s so nice to hear. He was really scared of opening up, it’s good that he’s comfortable around you all. You’re really good friends, even if he isn’t the best at telling you all,” Midoriya was audibly relieved and the ones around the phone were strangely proud of making that tone appear.

“And we’re glad he has you to talk to,” Kirishima added, “You sound really manly and cool, bro.”

“You guys done with your circle jerk,” Bakugo grouched.

“Don’t be mean, Kacchan,” Midoriya admonished.

“How did you two meet?” Mina asked, not minding a topic change.

“We’ve always known each other,” Midoriya said, “We lived in the same neighborhood and played in the same playground since we were little. High School is the first time we’ve been apart for so long ever.”

“Ahw, a childhood friends to lovers trope,” Hagakure gushed.

“Kind of, yeah,” Midoriya laughed.

“We still didn’t get the embarrassing stories,” Kaminari whined as Sero loudly agreed, much to Bakugo’s displeasure.

“Well, there was that time with the cold,” Midoriya mused.

“Izu, no,” Bakugo said horrified.

“Midoriya, please tell us!” the others cheered.

“Sorry, Kacchan, majority rules,” Midoriya said, a bit of little shit shining through, “So, Kacchan had a cold, but he came to school anyway, because he’s an idiot.”

“I take offense to that.”

“Than take offense, babe, it was stupid,” Midoriya shot back, “He had no voice at all left, Little Mermaid style, and was carrying around a notebook to communicate. He had a bit of a croak left, but he definitely shouldn’t be talking.”

They were all listening closely, except for Bakugo who was pouting and leaning back, but he wasn’t interrupting. He liked listening to Izu talk even if it was to embarrass him in front of his friends.

“But then some kids came up to me during recess,” Midoriya went on, “And they were calling me names, just being mean, not important.”

“It is important, they were dicks,” Bakugo groused.

“Yeah, Kacchan, I know, but it’s not now the point, don’t deflect,” Midoriya said, “So, Kacchan comes to save me, very sweet of him, my own prince in shining armor.”

Hagakure, Mina and Kirishima cooed at that.

“However, while it was very sweet, Kacchan had forgotten that he didn’t have a voice,” there was a bit laughter, “So, when he came running, yelling, there was no yelling, just a soft little long croak like so.”

Midoriya imitated a frog like croak, causing more laughter and giggles.

“And that wasn’t even the end, because the little croak didn’t stop him. He pushed them away and told them they were dick bags, but all that came out was bags,” Midoriya finished, “He was Mr. Bagsfor weeks.”

There were peels of laughter and chocked off repeated of ‘Mr. Bags’ while Bakugo pushed them away with a ‘shut up.’

“Tells us more, tell us more,” was chanted, but then a sort of loud alarm went of in the background.

Bakugo seized the phone and asked: “Are you okay, Izu?”

“I’m fine, Kacchan,” Midoriya didn’t sound shaken or scared, which calmed everyone, “It’s a training exercise. Some second years told me about it, it’s because you can’t count on normal hours when supporting heroes and they can need you at any moment. I have to go respond to the call. Talk to you later. It was nice to meet you all. Love you, Kacchan.”

“Love you too. Good luck,” Bakugo was just in time before Midoriya hung up.

It was quiet for a moment, then Kaminari chocked: “Kacchan,” and everyone lost it again.

“Oh, shut up, he started calling me that when we were like three,” Bakugo rolled his eyes, but he couldn't mind the laughter that much after talking with Izu and his friends being nice to his boyfriend after all the shit he had meeting new people.

“Midoriya is such a sweetheart,” Hagakure told him, “He’s such a pleasant person.”

“Yeah, not at all Mr. Stone Thrower, I imagined him to be,” Mina agreed.

“Stone thrower?” Bakugo frowned.

“You don’t wanna know,” Kirishima told him and Bakugo decided it would be better not to ask, so he just said: “Alright. But Izu isn’t that sweet. Well, he is, of course, but he can be a little shit. Didn’t you just hear him, be mean to me?”

“Ahw, little Kacchan has a boo-boo on his ego,” Kaminari managed before Bakugo jumped him.

“Don’t call me Kacchan,” he yelled.

“What else should we call you then,” Sero grinned from the couch, “Mr. Bags.”

“I hate you all!”

“But we’re really good friends, Bakubro,” Kirishima teased.

“Not you too. I’ll kill you,” Bakugo screamed, but no one could take his threats seriously after the sweet and kind voice of Midoriya had just told them how much Bakugo secretly cares about them and called him ‘Kacchan.’

Later Mina would pout and tell him she couldn't find Midoriya Izuku anywhere online and Bakugo would grin and shrug, not sharing that his boyfriend’s username was @AllMightssuperfan everywhere. Izu had been religious about online safety and had never shared his name on any of his accounts.

And the next time he was calling with Izu, multiple people told him to say hi, with Sero grinning: “Tell your nice half hi from me.”

He was glad that the others liked Izu. His boyfriend had had enough trouble with people being mean to him for no reason, but his friends had taken a liking to him almost instantly.

Though they seem to have a mental picture of Izu in which he was a sweetheart. This in itself wasn’t a lie, Izu was one of the kindest people Kacchan knew, but it wasn’t just kindness. The other could be ruthless if he was angry and was a bigger trouble magnet than Kacchan with a dose of little shit built in permanently.

Still, Bakugo was trying to think of a way to introduce his friends to his boyfriend, but with the safety measures surrounding UA that was more difficult than expected.

Luckily it soon happened by chance.

Class 1-A would be going to a training exercise in Tokyo, where they would learn to be mindful of property destruction and building safety.

The training exercise would have taught them how to spot when a building was about to fall, how certain walls and pillars were integral to the structure staying upright and how they could see if there were important electric wires or water lines in the ground.

However, it was Class 1-A and things never really went the way they wanted and planned, so naturally the class was attacked while at the training facility that lay between multiple schools in the area.

Though, since it was also Class 1-A they had enough experience to fight off the attack without any life-threatening injuries. So, they were only mildly scraped up and injured by the time they defeated the villains.

They were barely catching their breath when a form of green was running towards them, multiple people on their trail. As the person got closer they heard them yell: “Kacchaaaaan!!”

Bakugo whipped his head up and Kirishima, Mina and Jiro dredged themselves up into a protective stance at this newcomer, until Momo commented: “Huh, that’s the uniform of the nursing school nearby.”

That comment and name tickled something in the back of their minds, but they were tired and the pieces wouldn’t yet click.

The person was nearby and they saw it was a green haired boy with freckles and a face that was more prone to laughter even if it was frowning now. He shouldered past Kirishima and Mina, who were in his way more prominently, before kneeling next to Bakugo and grabbing the first aid kit that hung around his shoulder.

“Hey,” Kirishima said, though he didn’t stop the boy, seeing that he was friendly.

“Izu?” Bakugo said, horridly confused.

At that everyone turned and looked at the boy, wide eyes as finally it all added up. He had called Bakugo Kacchan and wore the uniform of a Tokyo nursing school. With Bakugo identifying him, it was easy to see that this was his boyfriend.

However, before any of the could react, Midoriya was scolding Bakugo: “You absolute, idiot. Do you know how worried I was? We got a warning there was a villain attack ongoing and then I heard yourexplosions and when I looked out the window I saw you fall. You know better than to go that high.”

“I’m sorry, Izu, but-”

“You can save your sorry, Kacchan,” Izu huffed, “Let me check you over first. Are there any spots you landed on or that ache?”

“My ribs,” Kacchan decided it was better to let his boyfriend fuss, feeling bad about worrying the already natural anxious boy.

The rest of the class stood in shocked silence at the interaction. Then the people following Midoriya arrived, apologizing to Aizawa as one explained: “Midoriya ran out before we could stop him, I apologize on his behalf as class president. We’re Class 1-A of Tokyo School of Nursing, nearby. We also came to help if needed, but we’re only first years.”

They showed their first aid kits and Aizawa said: “It’s fine, I suppose. Don’t cause any trouble. I’ll see if we can get police on sight and medical professionals with a license.”

“I’m sure a few of our teachers will be here soon, but we’ll see what we can do,” the class president bowed along with the other four students that had run after Midoriya, before setting to work, checking everyone over and tending to their wounds when possible.

Kirishima and Mina were being looked over, while gawking at Bakugo and Midoriya. Midoriya had checked over Bakugo’s ribs and bandaged them and was now cleaning the cuts on his face, while saying: “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Sorry, Izu,” Kacchan replied, “I don’t mean to get caught up in these things.”

“I know and I’m going to have to get used to this, aren’t I?” Izu sniffled, “I just saw you fall and I reacted before I even knew.”

“Hey, I’ll be more careful, promise,” Kacchan said.

“You better, I’m telling on you to auntie next time I see her, maybe I’ll even call her tonight and next time you’re over we’re not eating curry,” Izu’s jaw set, “I’m pissed at you for throwing your life so easily in the balance. I thought your whole thing was to learn to save people, include yourself in the definition of people.”

“I do that!” Kacchan squawked indignantly.

“Sure, whatever you say, Kacchan,” Izu obviously didn’t believe him, “That’s why you always died a dramatic death every time we played hero.”

“You were just as dramatic, weeping over my death,” Kacchan protested.

“Of course, my knight in shining armor disappeared,” Izu laughed, “Now, you need to watch those wounds. I don’t think they need stitches, but I would advise against touching them and make sure they don’t start to get infected. The moment they show signs of swelling, discoloration or heating up, you go tell someone.”

Kacchan listened closely to the instructions and Izu finished: “Also try not to put any strain on your ribs. No sudden movements, no jumping, no twisting. Rest them. You hear me, Kacchan, rest.”

“Yeah,” Kacchan nodded, before smirking, “But you forgot something.”

“What?” Izu frowned, going over the steps mentally, trying to figure out what he skipped and how Kacchan would even know that.

“You still have to kiss it better,” Kacchan informed him with a grin.

Izu sighed, but there was a small smile playing around his lips as he said: “That’s not very professional, now is it, Mr. Bakugo?”

“I think you can hardly call that scolding you just gave me professional, angel,” Kacchan shot back.

“Touche,” Izu agreed, before leaning in and kissing the scrapes on Kacchans knuckles and cheek, before kissing him on his lips and whispering, “I’m not kissing your ribs in public.”

At that Kacchan blinked the dazed, sappy look out of his eyes and remembered his class was right there and he wasn’t alone with his boyfriend. With the elation of seeing Izu wearing off and making way for embarrassment, he blushed heavily.

“Ahw, blush-y Kacchan, so cute,” Izu commented, not at all feeling bad for his boyfriend’s embarrassment.

Mina practically skipped forward when the student tending to the gash in her arm finally let her go. She stuck out her hand: “I’m Ashido Mina, we met on the phone, I believe.”

“Midoriya Izuku, you’d be correct,” Midoriya smiled, shaking her hand, “Kacchan really told me so much about you all, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“And I’m Kirishima Eijiro,” Kirishima wanted to make contact, before either Bakugo or Aizawa dragged them away.

“Oh, hi!” Midoriya said, “Kacchan was right about the hair being dramatic, I like your costume. It fits really well.”

“Ah, thanks,” Kirishima blushed, “It’s Crimson Riot inspired.”

“You’re a fan?” Midoriya asked, “Good choice, he’s great. Him during All Mights Silver Age was unrivaled. Their team up was so cool.”

“I know right,” Kirishima was glad someone saw how right his opinion was.

“Enough boring bullshit,” Mina pushed him away, “I want to get your social media @ because I couldn't find you anywhere.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” Midoriya rubbed the back of his head, “It’s @AllMightssuperfan.”

She quickly typed something, before grinning: “Now I’m following you. I have to say it’s been a trip to meet you.”

“I can imagine thatno one thought this would be the meeting, yes,” Midoriya smiled.

Bakugo walked up behind him, not liking his boyfriend leaving him for his friends. He put his head on Midoriya’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Midoriya’s waist, not letting up his scowl as he said: “You’re also an idiot for running towards an active attack.”

“It was already ending by the time I arrived,” Midoriya waved it away.

“I can still be mad about that,” Bakugo pouted.

“Suppose you can,” Midoriya shrugged, leaning his head against Bakugo’s, “I will try to be more careful, but just as your job is going to become running into danger, mine is going to be running after you.”

“Ahww,” Hagakure gushed, finally having made her way over to the other.

Midoriya looked confused for a moment at the sound of a new voice before he spotted the gloves, then he greeted: “You must be Hagakure Toru.”

“I am!”

“You’re not injured are you?” Midoriya frowned, “It would be hard to see if you’re hit.”

“Ah, yes, it would,” Hagakure said, “But don’t worry, I’m fine!”

“That’s good to hear,” Midoriya smiled, before he mused to himself, “There isn’t really much training about what to do when you can’t see the patient, say that she ever gets knocked unconscious.”

“Stop mumbling, Izu,” Bakugo snapped him out of it.

“Oh, sorry, I get caught up in my head,” Midoriya apologized.

But before he could get back to talking with Bakugo’s classmates a severe looking lady sternly called out: “Midoriya Izuku, come here right now.”

Midoriya stiffened, before whispering: “That’s my homeroom teacher. Sorry, gotta go,” the he hurried over to the lady.

She put her hands on her hips, before scolding: “What on earth were you thinking, running off in the middle of class like that? Towards a fight, no less. That was very dangerous young man and you will be punished accordingly.”

“Sorry, sensei,” Midoriya said softly, then he looked up defiantly, “But I still stand by my decision to run.”

“What?” the teacher exclaimed, along with a few bystanders.

Kirishima hissed into Bakugo’s ear: “What is he doing? He’s already in trouble.”

Bakugo smiled, looking a bit proud, then answered: “He might be an idiot, but he is an idiot with a heart. If he thinks he did the right thing, he will stand by it.”

“If we’re just going of response,” Midoriya indeed defended himself, “I was here first. Actual licensed medical professionals had to be called after the fact. You always press how importance time is and how it can save or costs life, sensei. We got extra experience and ensured that if there had been serious injuries, we could hold down the fort until an ambulance got here.”

The teacher hesitated, then her shoulders sagged slightly. She smiled gently then said: “I appreciate your fire, Midoriya. Still we’re responsible for you and this was a very dangerous thing to do. You could have been hurt as well.”

“I wouldn’t, Kacchan would have protected me,” Midoriya stated as if it was a fact, “But I understand, sensei. I will accept any punishment you see fit and I will try not to do it again.”

“That’s all I can ask,” the teacher said, she understood a bit better, having heard the nickname ‘Kacchan’ many times when her students could talk during her classes.

“Kacchan?” Aizawa asked, having joined the teacher to also scold the boy, “You mean Bakugo Katsuki?”

“Yes, I’m his boyfriend,” Midoriya smiled sweetly, making Bakugo blush when Aizawa looked his way and as his friends jeered.

“Well, then I think you’re quite right in your assessment of the Problem Child,” Aizawa said, “But it was still dangerous.”

“I understand, Eraser Head,” Midoriya bowed again, “Still, thank you for keeping him safe and not turning away our help.”

“And thank you for your help, despite the illogical reason behind it,” Aizawa said, “Now, I want to speak to your teacher, so enjoy the time with Bakugo, please do not do anything more stupid and stay in sight.”

Midoriya blushed, but said nothing, just bowing before rushing back to Bakugo.

“I would have protected you, would I?” Bakugo teased when he returned.

“Shut up, you would,” Midoriya pouted.

“Yeah, I would,” Bakugo said proudly.

“You actually talked back to Aizawa,” Kirishima said and Hagakure asked: “Weren’t you scared? He’s so intimidating at first.”

“It was terrifying, I don’t know why I did that,” Midoriya’s face was anxiety filled.

“Because you knew you were right,” Bakugo said, kissing his forehead, “You did well standing up for yourself. Hope you won’t be in too much trouble.”

Midoriya smiled at Bakugo’s encouragement. He waved the concern away: “Sensei is more bark than bite. She looks sterner than she is, she was just concerned after I ran out of class.”

“I can understand that,” Hagakure said.

“So manly,” Kirishima commented.

At that Midoriya giggled: “You actually do say it. I thought Kacchan was being dramatic about it. Sorry that sounded rude, I think it’s fun actually.”

“He talks about us?” Mina asked.

“Of course,” Midoriya sounded surprised at the question, “He talks about everyone in your class. It’s sometimes like I know all of you already. I’m very impressed with how far all of you’ve come in comparison to the start of the year. Kacchan tells me how hard you all work.”

Mina pulled him into a hug and said: “You’re so cute, Midoriya. I am so messaging you online, we need to be friends.”

“I’d love that,” Midoriya smiled.

Bakugo pulled Midoriya back and scowled: “Stop pulling on my boyfriend. I haven’t seen him in weeks, piss off.”

“Sharing is caring, Bakubro,” Kirishima teased.

“Sharing can go fuck itself,” Bakugo grouched and Midoriya snorted, before saying: “Missed you too, babe.”

They continued talking until Midoriya was called back to go to class. Kacchan and Izu drew out their goodbye for as long as they could manage until Izu had to stop waving and Kacchan disappeared out of sight.

Class 1-A mentally adjusted the image they had both of Bakugo and Midoriya.

Seeing Bakugo be himself completely, taking a scolding with understanding and demanding kisses from his boyfriend, added a layer to the grumpy boy they usually saw.

Midoriya had already undergone an entire transformation in the minds of most. From the stone throwing boyfriend they had imagined to gentle giant to the defiant yet kind person they had met today, who would do what was right, but still only lost that last bit of anxiousness when he was with Bakugo.

They were excited for him to graduate and hoped to see him have their backs again in the future.

~

A/N:

Idk if my idea for Midoriya really came through, but I imagine that hero agencies have personal medical staff to ensure that there will be medical aid if hospitals have a crisis or if the injuries aren’t big enough for injuries. These will be educated for quirk related injuries and since Izu is becoming one to support Kacchan, he will try and focus his assignments on his boyfriend, which is allowed after the sports festival.

I’m not keeping to canon bc I want them to actually meet Izu and I really wanted it to go like this, so a weird extra attack thingy it is. At first, I wanted to do something with the provisional hero license exam, but I felt it wouldn’t go well with the fic.

One thing, I really like it imagining how Bakugo would be if he didn’t have a festering resentment that grew for years, but instead actual support. And how Midoriya would be if he had a chance to develop confidence.

[anika-ann]

The 5 Times Steve Felt Betrayed - bonus

and the 1 Time He Felt Like He Was Betraying You

Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3),  Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 3400

Summary: Steve might have abandoned you and his friends in Germany, but Steve Rogers does not give up on people. Do you?

Set shortly after the rescue from the Raft.

Warnings: mentions of violence and fights, mentions of the Raft, language...fluff

A/N: This part of Melting Hearts’ verse follows the events of CA: Civil War, sometimes only referencing them and kinda expecting the readers to know what’s up ;)

Posted in double chapters (1st & 2nd time, 3th & 4th, 5th+1... and the bonus, because my brain clearly doesn’t understand the concept of 5+1)

Previous part

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Seeking Shelter, Finding Home

Clint had been kind enough to replace Steve in the pilot seat – with a significant look sent your direction. You were sitting away from the others, watching your hands as if you couldn’t quite believe they belonged to you. Steve’s lips automatically press a thin line at the sight – you still looked so small as you had when he had found you in the cell.

Just the memory of The Raft made his stomach turn over. The prison was just inhumane – the way a power-restricting collar had been pinned around your neck, your hands trapped in a straitjacket just in case you would somehow manage to remove the collar. And then there had been the tiny thing in the straightjacket, ready to deliver an electric discharge if you would have left your cell despite all the barriers.

Sure, Wanda had been in the same… outfit, and it was sickening, but seeing you crumbled in the corner of the cell, tied and broken like that – it had made him unable to breathe in or out, his chest just too constricted. And knowing you had gone through all this because of him made it even worse.

Now, you were at least free of your cuffs, in a comfortable hoodie that was two sizes big for you, and yet you seemed absolutely lost.

He approached you hesitantly, his heart jumping to his throat and making it almost impossible for him to speak.

“Uhm… hey,” he greeted you softly and you immediately raised your head to him, a faint unsure smile appearing on your lips. Your absent eyes found his, missing its usual spark. He beckoned to the seat next to you. “May I?”

“Of course,” you whispered, apparently a bit baffled. Steve sure as hell didn’t like the resignation in your voice. “This is your jet.”

He shrugged, seating himself by your side. Your shoulder almost brushed his and it was as pleasant for him as unnerving. So close and yet too far.

“You helped me steal it.”

You eyed him timidly, fumbling with your fingers nervously. Heavy silence fell and for several moments; he just stared into your eyes, drinking in the feeling of being able to do that again. To look into your soul and see all the emotions playing in your head; until you lowered your gaze again, hiding from him.

He sighed, not knowing how to even start, not knowing how to talk to you; you had barely exchanged few words about Bucky’s whereabouts since the rescue from the prison and it had been… awkward, to put it mildly.

God, where should he start? He wanted to apologize. He wanted to ask million questions and most of all he just wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you close, not saying a single word, because words only made things messy.

That was if someone bothered with forming them – or receiving them.

He gulped and pulled out the folded envelope. He would swear he could hear your heart skip a beat as you drew in a sharp breath.

“Uhm… I didn’t read it. I’m sorry. I… I was angry with you, disappointed. I thought… I thought you left me in a lurch and then you were just… trying to make it better with few words. And after, I didn’t want to… to waste any time. I wanted to find you, all of you, because I left you behind and I knew you suffered for it. And…” he took a deep breath, setting the letter aside, taking your restless fingers in his hands. You looked up at his face, your eyes wide and glassy. It made his throat even tighter. “And I was hoping you could just tell me what you wrote. That you could tell me everything.”

You pressed your lips together, blinking your tears away as you avoided his gaze once more. It was driving him insane, but he couldn’t say he blamed you.

“There’s not much to tell, Steve. I… I agreed with the Accords. With someone watching over us, maybe to be held responsible for--- but all I wanted was someone watching over me. Because I can do so much damage-“

He grimaced, a cold hand squeezing his guts as you stumbled over your words. Forever and always guilty. He underestimated sometimes how deeply your guilt ran.

“That’s not-“

“-and… I hated we couldn’t agree on that. But I never got myself to sign it. Didn’t really have the time and after what they did to Wanda – I couldn’t, it was just wrong. So wrong to hold her prisoner, throwing her under the bus. She made a mistake, yes, but we all did-- and… it wasn’t right. It was when I decided I couldn’t do it.”

“Why didn’t you come with Clint then?” he asked, confused. He was recognizing you now, the motivations you had had suddenly feeling much more like you than he would expect.

You smiled wryly.

“I couldn’t. It was… I figured that maybe at least I could make myself useful. I knew where that was heading. I had to stay with Tony to know their plan.”

Steve closed his eyes, exhaling shakily, your hands in his weighting a ton all of sudden. You had really been playing double agent. That had been such a stupid and reckless move. And kinda brilliant, but that was implied.

“God, Snowflake…”

You freed one of your hands to wipe the tears from your cheeks; Steve gripped your other hand tighter, so you wouldn’t get the idea of stopping touching him for a goddamn second.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the arrest too, but I saw what kind of a task force they sent after you, Steve. You would stand no chance, there was no way you could escape. The heavy guns, Rhodey, snipers, helicopters. It was-“

Steve’s eyes snapped open at the realization.

“You were trying to protect us,” he whispered incredulously.

Oh god. Had you gone completely insane? Had you lost your mind? Had you lost the last pieces of self-preservation somewhere along the way?

“I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t my call and I swear I was waiting until the last moment, I waited until I was sure that they would get you anyway. And I am— I’m so, so sorry for--- for-”

You hand was shaking in his, your voice cracked and you were now wiping the tears uselessly, because new ones were coming constantly. You weren’t able to finish the sentence, but Steve knew exactly what you were trying to say.

And it made him snap.

He threw away stupid ideas like approaching you carefully and wrapped his arms around your trembling form, cradling your face to his chest to hush you. He was taken aback when your weak fingers grabbed the edges of his leather jacket and you melted into him. He tightened his embrace.

“Hey, I know. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry you had to use your powers against me. I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your hair and you stiffened, you breath hitching.

“What?”

He caressed your back, his previous certainty wavering. “You hated it, didn’t you? You hated it so much, but you did it anyway, because you thought it was the only way to keep us from getting shot.”

You didn’t speak up, unable to find your voice, but Steve could feel your furious nods. He inhaled deeply through his nose, wishing he could just take the feeling tearing you apart away.

“You did the right thing.”

“Right things suck.”

Steve huffed out a surprised laugh and pressed a shameless kiss into your hair. “Yeah. Sometimes they do. But you did it anyway, which makes you the bravest person I’ve ever met.”  

You stopped shaking by then, and you fumbled with his jacket this time. Your face was hidden in the crook of his neck, but Steve would swear your face felt hotter even when he couldn’t see your cheeks. It was a little piece of happiness for him in this huge mess and he couldn’t be more grateful for you being here with him – finally in his arms.

“Can I ask you something?”

He wanted to slap himself the moment you tensed in his arms again. You nodded stiffly anyway.

“After… after Nigeria. Why— why did you start going to Matt? What happened? Were you… were you disappointed in me?”

You retreated, escaping his embrace, and Steve scolded himself for being so stupid. Why had he poked you again? Words always made things messy…

It was only a little comfort that you were still holding onto his jacket. Your baffled face confused the hell out of him – but at least you didn’t seem angry.

“Why would I be disappointed? What… what?”

“Uhm… well… because I froze. I didn’t handle the situation-“

“Jesus, Steve,” you choked out, shaking your head, your eyes finally finding his willingly. The look in them warmed Steve’s heart even when he wasn’t sure what exactly it was supposed to mean. “Is that what you think? That I was… disappointed that you didn’t perfectly keep your cool when Rumlow mentioned Bucky? Did you think I was… thinking any less of you? Judging you? Oh god, Steve. How could I?”

The sincerity of your voice struck him straight in his gut and he was honestly feeling like an idiot in an instant. Of course you hadn’t judged him. You weren’t one to judge people – you hadn’t said a word against Wanda after she had messed up. The only person you ever had been hard on was yourself. How could he have believed anything else even for a second?

Jealously, whispered the intrusive voice in the back of his mind and he shushed it angrily – mostly because it spoke the truth.

“But… why did you go to— uhm, to Matt then?”

You arched an eyebrow inconspicuously and Steve felt a blush creeping up his neck. Yeah, he had been jealous and wounded at the time and it was stupid, okay?

“Because I needed a lawyer,” you explained hesitantly and it was Steve’s turn to be perfectly shocked. Again. What? “A good one. A smart one. An outsider too, at least to certain extent. I wanted to ask him about the possible consequences of the Avengers messing up. I wanted to know his opinion and I didn’t want to ask him over a phone. He predicted the Accords with scary precision, by the way. And he said hi on several occasions, but I never got the nerve to actually deliver the greetings, because I was afraid you would pry why I was going out.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, his eyes widening in awe. That— that was pretty much the only thing he hadn’t seen coming. Shit. You-- you were incredible. You had been thinking ahead. So much. You had been afraid of the consequences so you had gone to a lawyer to be prepared.

Yes, you had sought out the one friend, who had happened to find too much liking in you, but… while he and Wanda had been figuring out their guilt – and Steve was still sure you had taken some of the blame too in your head – you had sprung into action. And his ego had been too wounded to see it.

He tilted his head back, pleading heavens to give him strength.

“Oh god, I am such an idiot…”

“No, you’re not,” you protested immediately, finding his hand to cover it with yours. Oh, how quickly your roles reversed, you soothing him now.

He looked at you, still not quite believing you had done all that. His eyes scanned your form, your face still damp from the tears you had shed, your eyes red-rimmed from crying, dark bruising under. But regaining at least a little of your confidence, you had grown right in front of his eyes. You were incredible. How had he ever doubted that? How had he ever deserved you?

“Really? Because I was being jealous instead of asking what was the visit about, my ego was hurting and I was hurting, and I was too blinded by my petty feeling of betrayal to see what you were doing. And then I honestly thought you just left me – that all we had meant nothing to you all of sudden. I thought the worst of you and I was too damn proud to comply with the single wish you had. I didn’t even read your letter. Which part of that does not make me a complete idiot?”

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze to your joined your hands, caressing it softly. It made Steve’s heart grow in size – but it still didn’t make him less of a jackass, it actually made him feel worse at the same time, because it wasn’t your place to offer comfort to him, it was supposed to be the other way around.

“The part in which feelings aren’t petty and make us human,” you whispered hoarsely, a tiny spark appearing in your eyes, disappearing all too fast. “I wanted to drop it all – the moment you looked at me when I-- when I froze you and the… the look in your eyes at the airport. It was the worst part of it all. You thinking… thinking that I’m a scum.”

Steve had never shaken his head so abruptly as the moment you called yourself a scum. His hand slipped from under yours, only to frame your face with his palms, making you look into his eyes. He was the one feeling like a scum at the moment, because… you hadn’t been that far from the truth and he didn’t think he had ever felt so ashamed for his previous thoughts like at this very moment.

“No. Hey, look at me. You— I was-- I wasn’t thinking straight. I was hurt and felt betrayed and I was disappointed, yes, but never ever-” he emphasized, staring into your eyes as if there was nothing more important in this world. And it wasn’t. “-have I thought you were--- that. And I’m sorry that I doubted you for even a moment.”

Your eyes turned glassy again under his intense stare, so many emotions written in it. You couldn’t bear it, you wanted to look away, but he wouldn’t let you, holding your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated firmly and you finally managed to close your eyes to escape.

It was when he did one of the boldest moves ever. Without a single hint of permission, after your relationship had suffered an enormous hit and with him not having a clue how you felt about him now, he pressed his lips firmly to yours, stealing your breath away.

He didn’t know what he had expected, but the hesitant response turning into an eager one within few seconds was not it. Your hands flew to his hair, interlacing in them and pulling him closer, your mouth opening for him almost immediately. He sighed at the unexpected sensation, a shiver of excitement running through his body. Your mouth was hot and wanting against his, one of your hands trailing down his chest; when it stopped above his navel, he found himself silently groaning in disappointment.

It was also when he realized where the hell you were and how much audience you had. His fingers twisted in your hair – god, he missed that – and he withdrew just slightly, setting a slower pace and putting some distance between you two. You seemed to get the memo, because you gently caressed his abdomen over the fabric of his t-shirt, separated from his lips and rested your forehead against his. You were both out of breath, panting.

Steve opened his eyes first, only to see your lips kiss-swollen and parted as you fought for a little air, your eyes still closed as if you were trying to regain some composure. His lizard brain whispered more and he listened, kissing you one more time; but at least wary of keeping the kiss socially acceptable this time. It was next to impossible to part again.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out and Steve looked at you, once again confused.

“For?”

You licked your lips, the movement utterly and unfairly distracting. He retreated and your eyes snapped opened as you cleared your throat.

“I honestly don’t know where we go from here – and now I mean… like… the two of us, but… I’m sorry. They took all of our personal belongings,” you whispered, embarrassed and pissed off a bit.

Steve tilted his head to side, not following. Yeah, he knew that. Why were you pointing it out?

“…okay?”

“All of it. Including… including jewellery.”

“Oh,” he let out intelligently, his heart expanding in his chest with hope.

Really? Was it possible that-… really? Sure, the kiss you just shared was nothing sort of loving, you had cleared things out and maybe it should hint him, but…

“I mean... I know you're probably angry with me-“

“Would you still want it?” he breathed out, astonished. He was trying to fight the euphoria creeping into his voice, no doubt showing on his face, but he couldn’t help it. “After what happened? After I... thought you turned your back to me, after I left you behind even when knowing you actually didn't? After I became a criminal?”

“I am a criminal too, Steve. And… I told you to go. You didn’t want to, because you're not leaving people behind. And you came back. I… I love you. Of course I’d still want it.”

He felt his lips curl up in a smile that mirrored only a fraction of the surge of joy in his veins. You didn’t seem to follow why. The declaration alone would be enough to make him feel like this, but… well. At least the little delay in the rescue had been worth it.

“Why are you smiling like that?” you asked him warily, hesitant raise of the corners of your lips lighting up your face as well.

Steve reached into his pocket, drawing a thin chain with a ring out, holding it out between the two of you. You gasped in awe, watching the chain you had bought to protect your ring while fighting wide-eyed.

“How-?”

“When I asked the guard about it, he looked at me as if I was crazy. Maybe I am,” he explained with a shrug and you chuckled incredulously, biting your lip.

“May I... may I wear it?”

Steve had honestly no clue how you could be asking such a stupid question. He observed your features that seemed to come alive, finally back to your usual self – the sunshine in even the darkest place.

And that thought gave him a stop; he was in a pretty dark place at the moment and he didn’t think it would get any better any time soon.

“I… I’m in a terrible mess, Snowflake. I’m probably the most wanted criminal in the world now. Are you sure?”

You cleared your throat significantly. “Steve, allow me to remind you that I am a fugitive too. That’s the first thing. The second thing… you’ve done nothing wrong – the whole criminal thing is just a word, a label someone gave you. And the third thing… I know what I’m signing up for. I knew you were trouble – for a good cause – when I said yes the first time. I knew you were trouble long before I fell in love with you. So yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“God, I love you so much,” Steve murmured before he could even think of anything else.

As he freed the ring so he could slip it back on your ring finger, you held out your trembling left hand for him. It wasn’t fear – it was excitement all over again. Too many emotions to contain. Steve felt the same. He was stunned, moved, and felt so incredibly loved and strong with you by his side that there weren’t any better words to say anyway.

He enclosed your hand in his when the ring was on place, bringing them to his lips only to plant a kiss over the thin metal. It made you smile like a madwoman.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Sam Wilson fist-bump with Scott Lang. You hid your face in Steve’s chest with silent laugh.

You had no idea what the future held for you now – you could only guess that it wouldn’t be exactly pretty. But as long you were not about to face it alone, you were ready and determined to fight all the battles coming your way.

────── ·❆· ──────  

S.R. masterlist

Hell Froze Over (next in the series)

────── ·❆· ──────  

Thank you for reading!

Someone once told me that fluff is my default setting. They weren’t wrong. I know mini-series was a bit different and with shorter chapters, but hopeflly, you enjoyed nevertheless.

Sequel ahead, this one a longer one! Title’s Hell Froze Over... I can promise you a new enhanced on the scene, some fluff, some angst... the usual :-*

[etherealvibespls]

till the stars fall out of the sky

Hi. It's been almost two years but I hope you enjoy this short + messy krii7y piece :)

--

The thing about it being the end of the world is how little time there is to prepare. No matter how many people seem ready with their canned foods and underground bunkers, or even the discarded pamphlets scattered throughout the streets filled with government advice as if, maybe, those in power had an idea of what was to come, no one is actually prepared for what they’re faced with; the end of everything.

And it’s terrifying.

Smitty had so many plans. A few weeks ago those plans held some dread, had his heart skipping at just the mere idea of change, and yet now his heart only aches.

In front of him the website mocks him. The screen is dim to preserve the little battery he has left in his laptop, but the floor plan of the apartment is still too bright, painting a pointless fantasy for his eyes to gaze longingly at.

He should have moved by now, but his fear kept him back. Rooted him in what he’s familiar with.

Now it’s too late.

A quiet ding snaps him out of his haze and the second his eyes settle on the notification the knot in his chest loosens, smoothed out by the person miles and miles away.

John (10:02): so it turns out the world really is ending

Smitty snorts. To his embarrassment, there’s already a smile stretching across his face.

Smitty (10:03): you’re just now realizing?

John (10:03): i mean can you blame me? how was i supposed to know all those youtube videos were real? but today i actually left the house for the first time in like, two weeks and it looks like i’m in hell

John (10:04): at first i thought i was dead because what the fuck, right? the sky is fucking red, but then i saw someone walking their dog as if it were normal so now i’m assuming this is what everyone’s been talking about

Smitty (10:04): have i ever told you i hate you

John (10:05): uh hello? what the fuck

Smitty (10:05): i’ve been stressed out of my fucking mind and you’ve been clueless this entire time?? go fuck yourself john. like actually take that dildo you thought i forgot about and fuck. off.

John (10:06): HELLO ? you said you’d never bring that up

Smitty (10:07): the world is ending dickhead. i’m allowed to embarrass you one last time

Smitty bites at the inside of his cheek, suppressing the urge to laugh as he waits for his friend’s response. It takes longer for John to reply this time but he’s probably writing a paragraph that makes absolutely no sense and only serves to insult Smitty whichever way he can.

After a quiet minute, John finally responds.

John (10:08): don’t say that

Smitty blinks, not expecting such a short reply.

Smitty (10:08): don’t say what?

Half of him is still expecting this to lead into a snarky remark and he prepares for John’s little ha-ha, got you, but by John’s next message, it’s clear he’s no longer joking.

In an instant, the mood has not only shifted into something serious, but into pure heartbreak as well.

John (10:09): “one last time”

John (10:09): it makes it sound like you’ve already lost hope

Smitty (10:09): john…there’s nothing left for us. they’ve done all they can but there’s no fixing something so completely destroyed, and at some point you just have to accept that it’s over

John (10:10): this isn’t the end

A pause.

John (10:10): i still haven’t met you yet

Smitty releases a long, shaky breath. He’s tried so hard to not think of the mistake he made those weeks ago, yet it seems like there’s always something to remind him of it.

It’s possible John isn’t even mentioning it now, but Smitty is so consumed by guilt that his mind wanders there regardless. The end of the world hanging over everyone’s head has only made it worse, dug it up again and shoved it into his every waking thought, constantly reminding him of what could’ve been.

Mocking the opportunity he ruined.

Smitty (10:12): i’m sorry. i should be there.

John (10:12): you don’t have to keep apologizing, smit. you had your reasons

Smitty shakes his head in disbelief at the message, biting down hard on his lip the moment his eyes begin to burn, blinking back unshed tears.

He hates how nice John is. How even as they face down their last days on earth there isn’t a part of him that’s angry, or at the very least, disappointed.

Smitty (10:13): my reasons were selfish and stupid and it’s because of them that we have to message each other as the world literally crumbles around us

John (10:14): being alone does suck, and it would’ve been nice to have some company, but i still don’t blame you

It probably isn’t supposed to come across as tragic as it does, but Smitty’s shoulders sag with grief anyway.

Briefly his eyes flick over to the corner of his laptop, locking onto the battery life. His heart twists painfully, constricting tight as it flashes, down to its remaining minutes of life.

John (10:16): you know...i still look at it sometimes

John (10:16): it probably sounds so lame but sometimes i imagine how it would’ve been. i’m not a morning person but i think you could’ve made me one, and you hate staying up late but i think i could’ve shown you why sometimes i never fall asleep

John (10:17): i even imagine how it would’ve been decorated. like, from the pictures you’ve sent me of your place it looks so plain and i think about all the trips we’d have to go on before we could agree on some simple shit just for the living room. but i wouldn’t want you to feel bad about your taste or anything so i’d probably let you pick out a bunch of things anyway

Smitty presses his face into his shoulder for just a moment, overcome by so many emotions. A part of him can guess where this is going and his chest nearly caves in at the thought, knows why it’s happening now, of all times.

Smitty (10:19): ... i look at it everyday, imagining the same

Smitty (10:19): i was looking at it before you messaged earlier...can you believe it’s still available? how has no one else wanted it?

John (10:20): because it was always meant to be ours

Ours.

His gaze drifts back to the floor plan still on the screen, and not for the last time, he yearns. He thinks even after everything is said and done, his longing will ripple through the endless void of space.

Thinks heartache as great as his can never die, instead linger like a mournful ghost that will haunt even the brightest stars.

Smitty (10:21): i’m sorry i ruined it

John (10:22): i’m sorry i didn’t try harder

Smitty (10:22): john, none of this is your fault. it was my idea and i couldn’t even go through with it

Smitty (10:23): we had so many plans and i shattered them all because i was too scared to leave

John (10:24): but i wanted it more than i ever admitted, and instead of fighting to get you here i didn’t say anything

Smitty (10:24): i wanted this to happen more than you think, believe me. but we know how my thoughts can get, so i don’t think there was anything you could’ve said that would’ve change my mind

John (10:25): what about i love you?

Smitty startles, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t expect this. His stomach still does a silly little swoop, the butterflies that are always present when he talks with John suddenly coming to life, fluttering rapidly.

Smitty (10:25): john?

John (10:26): if the world is going to end no matter what, then fuck it right? i’ve been keeping my mouth shut for over two years and even if now is probably the worst time because i can’t see your face and my laptop is about to die, i can’t go out without telling you i’ve been in love with you for half the time i’ve known you

John (10:27): and the time before that i really, really, really liked you

Smitty chokes on his tears, stopped caring about holding them back the second he saw i love you.

Smitty (10:27): me too

Smitty (10:27): i think i’ve been in love with you since you first messaged me that stupid one-liner about artists

John (10:28): oh god, i forgot that was the first thing i sent you

John (10:28): in my defense i was extremely bored and your page was filled with memes, i thought you would’ve enjoyed it

Smitty (10:29): i fucking loved it

John (10:30): i regretted it the moment you sent me a pic of yourself for the first time, though

Smitty (10:30): what? why?

John (10:31): because you were prettiest person i’d ever seen and i hated that the first message i sent you was about dicks

Smitty laughs, the sound croaky and awful and usually he’d be embarrassed about the noise but he sits alone in his living room, completely consumed by the messages and the guy sending them.

Smitty (10:32): who would’ve known that would be the way into my heart

John (10:32): after about a week of talking to you i knew

John (10:33): i think that’s when i started falling in love

Smitty (10:33) god, i hate that we’re saying this now. i wish both of us said something sooner

John (10:34): yeah...it would’ve been nice to finally hold you, but i’m happy you finally know

John (10:34): and no matter what happens from now till...the end, i want you to know i love you

John (10:35): i always have, and i always will

i love you-

The screen flickers once before it fades to black, the battery completely drained. Smitty’s fingers hover over the keyboard, his pinky so close to hitting ‘enter’.

It takes longer than it should to register in his brain, and for a few minutes Smitty sits and stares at the screen. He blinks rapidly through his tears, can still see i love you every time he blinks but his heart beats wildly, aware of the inky darkness surrounding him and the deafening silence, no longer interrupted by the quiet dings of messages.

Like a dam finally unleashed, his tears fall at once and a sob racks through his body, forcefully pushed out of his quivering mouth. With his legs curled to his chest and his face buried in his bony knees, he cries out in anguish, fingers clutching his sweatpants like a lifeline.

He doesn’t move, stays curled in the corner of his couch long enough to see the last bits of sunrise fall over his furniture, and stays even longer to hear the shouts of panic outside his front door, aware but uncaring, of everything ending around him.

--------

Based off the prompt: “So the sky is still raining fire and meteors, and my laptop is running low on battery, but I wanted to say that I like you, a lot. Even though we haven’t ever talked in real life, if this is the end of the world then I’m really happy that I got to meet you.”

[illfoandillfie]

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery:  Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon​ and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon​ about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb. 

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @rogersslave​ @scorpiogemini 

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue.   “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

[the-sympathetic-villain]

The Stowaway’s Heart - Chapter 1

AO3 | Next | Masterpost

Description: Virgil is rescued by selkies after being abandoned at sea and brought back to their pod to recover. Virgil's poor, gay heart may just explode from how attractive they all are.

Pairings: Analogical, Platonic Logince (There may be more as I go along!)

Word Count: 1813

Chapter Warnings: Dehydration, Imprisonment, Mentions of human trafficking, Mild Suicidal Ideation

Author’s Note: This is something I’ve been writing when I need to take a break on You Belong With Me.  This will eventually probably end up being a lot of extremely gay fluff with a little hurt/comfort to start.

    Three days.

    Three days since they’d thrown Virgil in the brig.

    Three days since he'd heard the voice of another person.

    Three days since he’d last drank water.

    Three days.

    He couldn't even open his eyes as he lay motionless on the stiff cot in his cell. If it weren’t for the chill of the night air, he wouldn’t even have known how long they’d left him here. Not that it mattered. No one was coming for him. He was going to die of thirst, locked in the brig of this godforsaken ship drifting through the ocean. They could have at least had the decency to kill him outright, instead of forcing him to wait as he slowly wasted away.

    The haze in his brain seemed to break for just a moment as the sound of footsteps echoed above him. He held his breath, straining to hear as the gentle tap of steps moved across the deck. He waited for the footsteps to disappear. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. His mind had to be playing tricks on him.

    But the sounds continued. For several minutes, he could hear the deliberate movement of footsteps clicking above him. The sound wasn't just objects rolling about the deck. There were actual people on the ship somewhere above him.

    Maybe someone came back to finish the job they started.

    Virgil exhaled bitterly.

      No. It can’t be.

    He moaned, confused. They wouldn’t have come back for him. He was worthless to them at this point. In his condition, he wasn’t even worth keeping as a captive for trade. Nursing him back to health would cost them more than the price he'd fetch at the market. Distraught, a groan escaped him as he willed whatever strength he had left into trying to push himself off the ground, only barely managing to roll onto his side. Virgil nearly bit his tongue, forcing back a wave of nausea as he fought the urge to gag.

    Moving is bad. Got it.

    He groaned, remaining still as he listened to the soft tapping above him. He forced his eyes open to stare at the hatch in the ceiling in the space outside of his cell. Time passed slowly as he waited, yet the hatch to the brig remained closed. Virgil couldn't help it. His eyes started to droop with exhaustion as his focus faltered. His vision blurred as he nearly answered sleep's enticing call.

    It doesn't matter anyway.

    Virgil groaned. Even if they were coming back for him, he stood no chance of fending them off. Whoever was coming would find him, regardless of whether he was awake. He couldn't stop whatever they were going to do to him. He was at their mercy. His head drooped.

    Maybe it would be better to be unconscious.

    The sound of metal moving against metal above him tore him from his thoughts. He listened, waiting, until a metal clink from above confirmed to him that they had found the hatch. Even as his heart raced in his chest, he couldn’t even find the strength to tense his muscles in anticipation of whoever was coming his way.

    Bright light assaulted his eyes as the hatch opened. He groaned loudly as he clenched his eyes shut and cringed as the footsteps at the hatch came to an abrupt halt.

    Great job, Virgil. Now they know you’re here.

    He listened as the footsteps started to descend the steps once more. Slowly, this time. Virgil ached to open his eyes and see who was approaching him. He wanted to see their face. At least then, he could brace himself for whatever they had planned for him, but he couldn’t. So, he waited, lying prone on the bed, vulnerable to whoever approached.

    The footsteps paused at the cell doors. Virgil grunted. He forced his eyes open, ignoring the pain. He was only able to make out a tall, dark silhouette standing at the cell door, hands on the bars before the pain became unbearable and his eyes closed once more.

    “You’re alive!”

    The deep voice was loud and jarring and Virgil couldn't help flinching at the sudden sound.

    “I am sorry. I did not intend to startle you, small one.” The voice dropped to a whisper. “Give me a moment. I will get you out of here.”

    Virgil relaxed. The voice was mesmerizingly smooth and deliciously deep. Virgil couldn’t help wishing the man would speak more. At least if he was going to die, he could listen to something pleasant as he drifted away.

    The source of the voice, however, seemed to have other ideas. As fast as the pretty voice had come, it was gone once more, and Virgil had nearly drifted off to sleep again by the time the voice returned. The man was further away this time,. He was somewhere close to the top of the stairs and he wasn’t alone anymore. Another booming voice echoed down through the hatch above. Virgil cringed. The second man’s voice was deeper and he sounded angry.

    “—he’s injured!” The pretty voice spoke again.

    “He’s dangerous!”

    “He’s barely conscious. Look at him. He's hardly a threat to anyone in his current state.” The pretty voice was flat now, starting to sound annoyed.

    “Look at the state of this ship.” The angry voice paused. “What if he’s responsible for this?”

    “You think he did this and then just locked himself up in a cell to die?” The pretty voice sounded bitter now. “I find that highly unlikely.”

    Silence hung between them for a moment before the other voice spoke again. “He’s still dangerous, Logan. They all are.”

    “Undoubtedly, they would say the same about us.” The man, Logan, said bitterly.

    “I hate it when you’re like this.”

    “Compassionate?”

    “Stubborn.”

    “Forgive me if lowering my standards of who is worthy of basic compassion is a topic on which I refuse to compromise, Roman.”

    “I’m not asking you to lower your standards.” Roman muttered bitterly. “I’m asking you to consider the consequences.”

    “I have considered the consequences.” Logan sighed. “I’m not willing to leave him to die over complications that may never arise.”

    “I shouldn’t have let you come with me.”

    “That is of little consequence at this point. I’m here now.”

    Roman sighed, considering the situation. “Fine, but he’s your responsibility and yours alone. No one else will be allowed near him.”

    “I would expect nothing less.” Virgil could have laughed at the barely concealed smirk in Logan’s tone. He could guess that this man with a pretty voice was used to getting his way.

    “He will remain confined the entire time. He's not going to be moving about the island unchecked.”

    “Roman—”

    “This is not a negotiation.” Roman stated. “These are my rules if you choose to do this. Otherwise, I’m not allowing it.”

    Virgil heard a dissatisfied grunt before Logan spoke again. “Fine, I will concede to your terms.”

    “Good, because I have one more.” Roman hesitated. “You will leave your pelt with me while you care for him.”

    “That’s not fair—” Virgil could almost feel Logan bristle at Roman’s suggestion.

    “I don’t care if it's fair or not. I’m not taking the risk of a human controlling you. That would endanger everyone at home.” Roman interrupted, quiet for a moment before he spoke again. This time his voice was soft and pleading. “Not to mention, I don’t know what we’d do if we lost you again, Lo. He'd never forgive me.”

    Human?

    “Very well, Roman.” Logan’s voice was tired, but he seemed resigned. “That will make the process uncomfortable, but if it will put your mind at ease, I will do whatever you require of me.”

    “Thanks, Lo.” Roman’s voice was softer. His angry tone had faded. Virgil’s heart warmed pleasantly at the sweet tone that drifted through the brig. “Now, go do whatever you need to do. We're leaving soon.”

    “Thank you.” Hurried steps dropped down from the stairs above. A loud thud resonated in the floor below Virgil as the man jumped past few steps to land on the ground. A moment later, he could hear the jangling of metal as someone fiddled with his cell door. Virgil’s head started to spin and he resisted another wave of nausea. His vision darkened as his consciousness faded for a brief moment.

    He woke to the feeling of hands on his neck. Panic coursed through his body as he weakly tried to struggle away from his attacker, but he barely moved, too exhausted and weak to truly fight back.

    “Do not move, human. I have no intent to harm you. I only wished to confirm you were still alive.”

    Virgil settled as the hands moved off his throat, too weak to do much else.

    “Good. You are going to be okay. My name is Logan and I am here to help you.”

    Virgil’s skin tingled at the pleasant melody of the stranger’s voice.

     “You appear to be severely dehydrated.” Logan spoke softly. A blissful sigh nearly escaped Virgil as the stranger’s soft hands pushed his hair away from his face. “I am going to give you some water, but I will need to prop you up to prevent you from choking. Will you allow me to lift you?”

    Virgil groaned and Logan seemed to accept that as consent. Warm hands gently curled him upright, cradling him around his shoulder. He felt a cup at his lips and he opened his mouth, sipping eagerly at the sweet, cool water. Instant relief washed over him as the aching dryness in his throat eased. He nearly moaned with satisfaction, but his relief was cut short as the cup was pulled back away from him too soon. He grumbled unhappily.

    A heavenly laugh sounded near his ear. “I'm sorry, dear one. Too much at once will make you sick. You will have more soon. I promise.”

     Virgil melted into the man's arms, relaxing at the soft tone of his voice. He wavered at the edge of consciousness, nearly giving into sleep at the comfort of the man's touch.

     “You are going to be okay, human. I give you my word.” Logan whispered. A sad tone crept into the beautiful sound of his voice. Virgil felt a hand on the neck, and he leaned into its warmth. “But I don’t think you need to see what is waiting for us up on the deck. Please forgive me, dear one.”

    Vague confusion swelled in Virgil’s mind for only a moment before he felt a small prick in his neck. He winced but the pain quickly faded.

    “Don't—" Virgil rasped the first word he'd spoken in days. He tried to pull away but his resistance was short lived as his racing mind succumbed to oblivion.

     “Sleep now, human.” Logan whispered sadly. “You’re safe now. You'll be in a better place when you wake.”

[kpopaddicted06]

Birthday surprise – one shot

Summary: Some things are happening when you’re less expecting them.

pairing: Stray Kids’s Lee Felix x reader

genre: best friends to lovers au

type: fluff, slight comedy, slight angst

words: 3.6k

warnings: parental abandone (father), cursing (I think?), mention of alcohol and suggestion of getting drunk

A/N: hope you’ll enjoy this one shot with our sunshine; thank you for reading it! 

I was in my class when I got a message from my best friend telling me that he needs my help in the kitchen.

 It’s not something new that Felix wants my help, but it’s a bit concerning the fact that he wants to cook, because that can end up either with one of us getting injured or the house burned down. Regardless that thought, as always I said that I will help him after I leave from university.

 When I arrived at his house I entered using my spare key, not bothered to announce my presence since I knew his mother and older sister were at work and his little sister is usually out with her friends at this hour, so he must be alone. I left my shoes in the hall and went straight to the kitchen. What was waiting for me there left me with my mouth wide open, a complete disaster. There was flour spread all over the floor, a mountain of dishes was coming out of the sink, the counter and the table were full of ingredients and something that looked like burned brownies. But most importantly, my friend, Felix, was in the middle of everything and the cause of it.

 “Yah! I told you I will help you, so why did you start without me?? Look at this kitchen Felix, your mother is going to kill you!”

 “In my defense, I thought baking some brownies would be easier, but unfortunately I was wrong. You’re gonna help me clean this mess and cook like you promised, right?” He was looking at me with his best puppy eyes, but I won’t get caught in his trap. At least not this time.

 “I will help you, with one condition.”

 “Sure, go on.”

 “You’ll let me throw you a birthday party this year!” I said grinning at my friend’s already sour look.

 “Anything but not this one.” He said it with a serious look and in his deep voice that always makes me shiver.

 “Buuut.. Felix, I want you to have a party... It’s your 20th birthday, pleeease!” I was whining like a little kid that didn’t get his favourite candy.

 “Why is it so important to celebrate? You know I don’t like parties. So choose something else.”

 I knew he didn’t like parties, but that was just because they reminded him of his father, who threw him an amazing birthday party 5 years ago just to announce that he’s leaving his family right in the middle of it, the reason being that he fell in love with someone else. It was a birthday and goodbye party at the same time. From that day onwards Felix hated parties. He only comes to my birthday party and to our other 7 friends. He turns down all the invitations in campus. I tried to change his mind but he would firmly refuse to go every time. But today was going to be different, I will convince him to accept having a birthday party this year.

 “Felix, don’t you think is time to forget the past and live the present? I know it was hard for you, I was there when it happened, and I know the pain you went through after that. I will always be here for you, I only want you to be happy and forget about it, because now nothing bad can happen at your party anymore, you know that, right?“ I was talking calmly, trying to convince him through my eyes that I’m right. Felix knew that what I was saying was nothing but the truth, but the idea of having a birthday party after so many years was still on debate. I could see how much he was thinking about what I said and what decision he should make from the way he was frowning his eyebrows, and when I decided speak again he beat me to it first.

 “Y/N, I know your intentions are good and all but... I don’t know what to say.”

 “You just have to say “Yes” and I will do the rest. You don’t have to worry because I will make you the most amazing party ever, I promise!” I saw he was still hesitating to answer, so I asked him: “Don’t you trust me?” His response to this was almost instant.

 “Of course I do.”

 “Then say yes!”

 “Fine! Yes...”

 “Yayyy!! I promise I will do my best! Love you Yong-bok!”

 “You only love me when I say yes...” He looks at me playfully this time and I start laughing.

 “I know you love me too even if you don’t say it back!” I say happily hoping to lift up his mood.

  “Yeah, I do.” He said while having an expression that I couldn’t really read on his face... His look was so full of... affection, and something more that I couldn’t catch since he changed his expression into an waiting smile. That snapped me out of my thoughts, realising he was waiting for my help with cleaning and cooking.

 “So, do you know how to make brownies?”

 “Yes, but you didn’t tell me why you need them so urgently?”

 “Oh yeah, Chan hyung told me his grandparents are visiting from Australia tomorrow, and I promised to make them some brownies as an welcome gift.”

“Aww that’s very kind of you, but why would you promise something you can’t do?” I raised an eyebrow at him playfully.

 “I don’t have money to buy a present and the ingredients were already brought by my mother, so I can use them for free. You know I’m a broke student just like you.”

 “Fair enough. Let’s start cleaning first.”

 He got in the military position of salute and shouted “Yes, ma’am!” I chuckled at his cuteness.

 We start to clean the kitchen together and discuss about our classes today and the homework we have to finish for the next week. We’re done with all the work in about half an hour, afterwards we start working on the brownies. By the time we finished baking them, the kitchen was dirty again, but not as bad as the first time.

 Felix was looking at me while biting his lip, a habit of his, then got closer to me with a napkin and started tapping my nose to clean it. I could feel my heart beating faster than it should because of the close proximity between us.

 “You got some flour on your face.” He whispered.

 I couldn’t make my brain send any words to my mouth. I was lost staring at his face; he was wearing blue contact lenses that matched perfectly with his blond fluffy hair. Having him this close allowed me to give a better look at his freckles. They make him look so adorable and that’s always killing me. I felt that I couldn’t breathe properly anymore, so I took the napkin from his hand and started cleaning myself, not before taking a step back to put some distance between us, hoping this would calm my racing heart.

 When I looked back at Felix, he was cleaning the counter with an expressionless face. I didn’t say anything and started washing the dishes, both of us doing their own task quietly.

 After the brownies were done, his mother and sisters came home too. His mother asked me to stay for dinner and I gladly accepted, because I love her cooking. During the dinner Felix was quieter than he normally is, but I brushed off the thought of asking him what happened because I assumed it must be about the party.

 After dinner he drove me home and invited me for lunch tomorrow with the rest of our friends.

 We went for lunch at our regular restaurant where we ordered our usual.

 “So guys, I finally convinced Felix to let me do his birthday party this year and I need your help.” All the boys looked at me like I grew another head and I knew it was because they couldn’t believe me.

 “You really did?” Seungmin asked after he recovered from the shock.

 “Yeah, well after 5 years of putting pressure on him, he finally accepted.” I rolled my eyes dramatically.

 “You’re amazing, Y/N!” Jisung and Hyunjin said in unison very excited.

 “I know, I’m the best.” I said trying to look cool but failed when I started laughing.

 “Ok. So we need to make a meeting without Felix to discuss the details later.” Came from Minho.

 “You should probably stop talking because I’m right here guys, and it’s my party.” My heart melted when I saw Felix’s cute pouting face.

 “You’re right, let’s meet this Sunday to make the plans at my house, ok?” Changbin suggested, to which we all agreed and continued eating our food.

 The Sunday came fast and we all agreed to throw the party at Changbin’s place since his house is big enough and his parents told us they would leave to some friends so we can have all the house for ourselves.

 Felix’s birthday would be on next Friday, so we still got plenty of time to prepare everything, from buying the decorations to inviting all his friends. We bought plenty of food and alcohol and Chan agreed to be the DJ.

 The big day was already here. I decided to wear a grey plaid skirt, a black blouse that exposed my shoulders and clavicles, long earring and finished the outfit with a pair of black heeled boots. As for the make-up, I decided to go with a light natural look and put my hair in a bun.

The party looked exactly how we imagined it to be. Everyone arrived before Felix, and went he came in we all shouted a loud “Happy Birthday, Felix!”

Everyone went to hug and say their congrats to Felix, only I stood frozen on the spot, because at the moment my eyes landed on Felix I swear I forgot about anything else. He always takes my breath away with his looks.

It’s been awhile since I started to think I might develop a one sided crush for my best friend. But now I’m starting to believe it’s something more than just a crush. I don’t know how this happened, but I think I felt in love with Felix. I’d wanna confess to him, but there are two things stopping me – I fear he probably doesn’t feel the same for me, but most importantly, I’m afraid I’ll lose him as a friend. I couldn’t live knowing I lost his friendship. He’s my sunshine, the person I spend most of my time with, he’s the one who truly understands me and knows everything about me. He’s the only one that’s able to make me comfortable enough to show my true self without fearing rejection because he likes me the way I am.. But the problem is that he likes me just as his best friend, nothing more. While here I am, in love with him. I tried to overcome it, push my feelings aside and hoping they’ll fade away, hoping it’s just a crush and nothing more, but being together with him all the time didn’t made this an easy task, it just made me fall even more for him.

Right now Felix was wearing a black leather jacket that he paired with black leather trousers, a white t-shirt. His hair was now a light purple and styled up, exposing his forehead. He looked alsolutely stunning.

He caught me starring at him and that made me blush instantly. He was trying to make eye contact with me, but I was trying to avoid his gaze.

He started coming my way.

“Hi.” He was looking at me with an intense look that made me feel like he could read my mind and and know exactly what I was thinking about.

“Hi. Happy birthday, Felix!” I tried to sound and look as much as possible unaffected by his presence, especially since he was closer than usual.

“What? No hug for me?” he said with a little pouting and I never wanted anything more than to squeeze his cheeks, which I didn’t, instead just giving him a warm hug. He was smelling like lavender, a perfume I gave him on his last birthday. The thought of him wearing this made me smile.

 “Thanks for the party, Y/N.”

 “You don’t have to thank me. Let’s go and have fun, ok?”

 “Sure.”

 I dragged him to our group of friends and we all started to dance. After a few songs we decided to get some drinks. I suggest Felix that he should have fun and get wasted, offert that he turns down, saying he doesn’t wanna do something he might regret tomorrow.

 After a few other songs, Bang Chan played some slow ones. He told me to go have a dance with Felix, saying this is a good chance to try and confess my feelings for him. I told him that I’m not ready and left to get another drink. Bang Chan is the only one that knows about my feelings for Felix, and he promised he won’t tell anyone, but he always tells me that it would be better to tell Felix the truth. He says Felix won’t end our friendship even if he wouldn’t feel the same way for me, so I shoudn’t worry about this; unfortunately I’m too much of a scaredy cat to take initiative.

 I feel a tap on my shoulder so I turn away from the bar to face the person. Surprise, surprise, it’s none other than Felix.

 “Y/N, do you wanna dance with me?”

 “Y-yes.” He caught me off-guard with his question, I didn’t think he would want to dance with me during a slow song.

 “Why did you ask me and not another girl you know? Maybe you can make a girlfriend.” I ask as we are making our way to the dance floor. Even if I don’t wanna see him together with someone else, I think having a girlfriend might make him happy, not to mention that I heard the guys telling him he should find a girlfriend, or at least a girl to have fun with, especially today.

He didn’t answer my question, so I assumed he might’ve not heard me because of the loud music.

When we got to the dance ring he put his hands on my waist and pushed me closer to him. I awkwardly put my hands on his shoulders and he started to speak.

 “I don’t want to dance with another girls.” He said in his low deep voice, sending shivers down my spine.

 “W-why?” I shutter the second time already. My heart started beating so fast that I think he might feel it too, considering how small the space between us is right now.

 “I have something important to tell you. After the party I want to talk privately with you.”

 “Okay.”

 Perfect! Now my mind wild go crazy until the end of the party. What does he want to talk about? He said it’s important, so why wait until the party is over?

He’s biting his lips again and I want nothings else but to kiss him right now. I would need to lean only a bit to finally feel his soft lips on mine.

Why am I even thinking about this when we’re only friends! This is just a simple dance and what he wants to tell me later must be just a simple thanks for organising his party, it’s probably nothing more...I should stop thinking about both his lips and about what he wants to tell me.

I was once again lost in my troughs until I hear him chuckle.

 “My eyes are a little bit higher, you know?”

 I avert my gaze from him to look at the people behind him, I can’t look at his face anymore after he just caught me starring at his lips.... This is so embarrassing. And why is this song so damn long! Chan surely enjoys to see me struggle.

He just laughed at my reaction and after a few seconds the song finally came to an end. As soon as it ended I excused myself lying that I need to use the bathroom, so I won’t do something embarrassing in front of him again.

After that dance I didn’t have another encounter with Felix, and I was glad, because I don’t think my heart could bear more of him right now without going in cardiac arrest.

 The party came to an end and I hoped that maybe Felix forgot that he wanted to talk, but of course that wasn’t the case. He was coming my way looking a little bit nervous and biting his lip.

 “Can you come upstairs in the guest room to talk?”

 “Sure.” I reply equally as nervous as him. I let him lead the way, and while we were passing through Chan I saw him sending me a wink then mouthing a “good luck”. But why?

 After we enter the room, he’s standing right in front of me and locks his eyes with mine. He takes a deep breath before he speaks.

 “Y/N. I wanted to tell you this for a long time already but never had the courage to do it...” he then licks his lips and I follow the action with my eyes.

 Wait.. Is he about to say what I think? Is he maybe trying to confess? Are his feelings towards me the same? Maybe I shoudn’t jump to conclusions and get my hopes up just to be hurt even more in the end, I should let him talk and see what this is about.

 “Y/N? Are you listening to me?” He looks a little amused now at my face. “Because you spaced out a little.”

 “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Please continue.” I manage to say a little flustered now.

 “Actually, what I have to tell you is a confession.... Y/N I liked you for a long time and I thought maybe I could get over you, so I won’t risk losing you as a friend, but as time passed by I just fell more for you and I want you to know that I love you. I did for some time now, but I was too scared to tell you. I understand if you don’t feel the same and want to get some space after what I told you to clear your mind, but please don’t push me away as your friend, because our friendship is very important to me. You are important to me, and I don’t see my life without you being part of it, but I really needed to tell you how I truly feel even with this risk.” He’s looking at me waiting for a reaction but when I try to speak I can’t let any word leave my mouth due to my shook.

 Did I heard him right? Did he really said that he loves me?

 When I see him looking at me with so much affection and nervously waiting for me to say something in return, I decide that words are not enough. So I get on my tip toes, put my hands at the back of his neck and brig him into a kiss. Our first kiss. His lips are so soft and I already feel addicted to them. At first he didn’t responded to my sudden action, but after a moment I feelt his lips moving against mine gently. After bit he reaches to hold my jawline whit one hand and puts the other one on my waist to bring me as close as possible and deepens the kiss. I hope he can feel me pouring all my feelings for him in this kiss. I kiss him with passion and love and try to give my all. I feel fireworks exploding in me. I don’t want this to ever end.

 After we break the kiss, he looks at me with so much love and adoration in his eyes. His beautiful smile is bigger than I ever saw it on him and I’m sure I smile the same at him because this is the happiest moment in my life.

 “I love you too, Felix. I did it for a long time, but I never had the courage to admit my feelings either because I was also scared I’ll lose you.”

 “Really? Wow we really are made for each other.” He laughs cutely at our similarities in thinking.

 “I can’t believe we could have been together for a long time already, but we let overthinking stay in our way.”

 “Well nothing can come between us from now on.”

 He then places a quick peck on my lips and grinns at my blushing face.

 “I’m glad that now I can say how I truly feel about you out loud, not just in my head.”

 “And what would that be?”

 “That you are the most beautiful girl, kindest person I know, you are really smart, that you’re driving me crazy when you act cute and the only thing I want to do hold you in my arms and never let you go, which now I can because you are mine, sweetheart.”

I’m a blushing mess in Felix’s arms now and I try to hide my face in his chest so he won’t see it, but of course he did so he put his hands on my face to make me look at him again. He brings me closer, then whispers: “Will you make me the honor to become you boyfriend?”

 “Yes!” I can feel my cheeks already hurting from so much smiling, but I just can’t help myself.

 “I love you.”

 “I love you, too.”

 Then he kisses me again.

masterlist

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Met Gala || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter go on a mission to capture Harry Osborn at one of the most heavily guarded places; the Met Gala. 

Word Count: 2k

Author’s note: I watched Ocean’s 8 and Hoco back to back and thus, this fic was born. 

Warning: Fighting?? Creepy dude??? IDK man a busted lip?

-----

When you were recruited for SHIELD, you knew you would be needed to fight alongside the avengers or workaround in the advanced lab in the Helicarier but never in a million years did you think Fury would send you and Peter Parker on a mission to infiltrate the Met Gala. Celebrities you stalked all day on twitter were now inches from you, wearing gorgeous ensembles from famous designers you could never pronounce and you were hardcore fangirling.

You tried to keep in your excitement as you looked across the room, seeing your favorite actors and influencers all mingling together without a care in the world. You were breathing the same air as Beyonce and Harry Styles, dear god, life felt great. Little did they know, this event had been hijacked by New York’s charming new villain, Harry Osbourn. Your mission with Peter was simple; find Harry and take him back to SHIELD’s headquarters for questioning without causing a mass distraction.

As you reached for a crystalized champagne glass off of one of the server’s silver platter, you hear a tsk sound off in your hidden earpiece inside your earrings.

“ Drinking on the job,” Peter clicked his tongue as he looked behind his shoulder, scouting you from across the ballroom,” your mother would be so disappointed.”

You smiled and took a small sip, taking in the room,” I’m blending in Parker. You should do the same.  As for my mom, I’m in the same room as Idris Elba so I think she’ll be more jealous than upset.”

You took a quick glance towards Peter, who was sitting at a vacant table. He wore a black suit with a thin gold and blush material lined thinly along either side of the opening of his suit jacket. The inside of the suit was a simple white button-up that had no buttons at the top, revealing a bit of his chest.

While it was the Met Gala and you were excited to see what kind of flashy SHIELD had managed to get, they went the opposite. They gave you a black, long sleeve gown with a delicate lace pattern towards the bottom of your dress.  Even though it was already out of your comfort zone from how fitting it was, the dress had a deep V cut on your chest that gave little to the imagination. While the dress was flattering, you knew you could’ve settled for your old prom dress when you heard that the gown you were wearing was two times the price of your apartment.

“ My little Peter Parker looks like he’s going to a Las Vegas communion,” you teased as you gave him a distant longing look,” but you look nice. You should wear suits more often, maybe then you could get a girlfriend.”

“ Ouch, Y/N,” Peter laughed, even though his heart stung a bit,” just because you look like that doesn’t mean you can go around breaking my heart.”

Even though Peter couldn’t see you from where you were, you still felt your cheeks to see if it was noticeable that you were blushing hard. Ever since sophomore year in high school, you had always hopelessly flirted with Peter but his attention was always Spiderman this and Spiderman that. It wasn’t until your senior year that you both would flirt with each other shamelessly yet that made things even harder for you. Now you weren’t sure if he was just joking or actually flirting with you and you could only blame yourself.

“ Keep your eyes open for Harry, not me,” You said as you finished your champagne glass and set it down at a table,” but I like the attention so you may continue flirting with me after we’re done with our mission.”

You heard Peter gasp loudly followed by silence which made your heart stop. 

“ Peter? Peter do you have eyes on Harry?”

“ No! I think Blake Lively is about to come up and talk to me, bye!”

You craned your neck and sure enough, you picked Peter out of the crowd and saw the goddess herself sitting next to him smiling. Lucky bastard. You kept your eyes glued to Peter as you collided with someone.

“ Woah watch yourself there,” You heard as you felt your anxiety raise through the roof. Please don’t let it be Pedro Pascal, please. I would die from embarrassment if I just bumped into the Mandalorian, Pedro Pascal, himself.

You apologized but when you hesitantly looked up, hoping it wasn’t a famous celebrity you had obsessed over, your heart dropped. Harry Osborn.  

“I’m sorry but do I know you?” Harry asked as you thought quickly of what to do,” I swear you look familiar.”

You weren’t prepared to see him so soon, your plan of attack was to find him not for him to find you. You snapped yourself out of it and focused on what you knew best, flirting.

“ No, you don’t. Trust me, you would remember a face like mine,” you said smoothly, feeling your confidence boost from the energy of the night and most likely the dress.

Harry smirked,” I like you already. I’m Harry, Harry Osborn.”

Oh you knew. You knew everything about him from the countless files that SHIELD had provided you. His estranged father was Norman Osborn and is the president of Oscorp, one of the leading multinational corporations in the US. Harry was around the same height as Peter, standing at 5' 10, weighing 170 pounds, and had dark blue eyes that held more than just a charming sparkle. You knew how he liked his coffee, why he hated Halloween, where he vacationed when he was in grade school, and when he lost his virginity. Knowing how much intel SHIELD had on Harry was not only scary for him, but for you since who knows about dirt Fury had one you aswell.

“ Michelle Jones,” you said on the spot, not wanting him to know your real name. He reached for you hand to shake but instead, placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

You smiled politely even though you mentally rolled your eyes. You just needed to get him somewhere private so you could take him out with the tranquilizer that Peter had in his pocket.

“ So Harry, what brings you to the Met? You must be pretty influential to get an invite,” you said as you started walking away from your spot, knowing that there was an exit behind the staircase and that Harry would follow you.

“ I would call myself an entrepreneur,  I dabble in some tech companies here and there. Just changing the world one robot at a time,” Harry shrugged as he followed next to you, taking the bait,” I bet you’re probably into something along the lines of modeling.”

You couldn’t help yourself but to let out a lousy laugh as he held a set of double doors open for you, leaving an empty hallway,” That’s cute but no,  I’m one of the leading programmers at Stark Industries. But sure, I guess I’m just a pretty face too.”

“ Brains, beauty, and an attitude? Well today’s my lucky day then,” he flirted as he placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in close to your ear,” let’s get out of here yeah?”

You almost showed your visibly disgusted expression on your face but you hide it well underneath a sweet smile,“ I admire your boldness and while I am very flattered, I have a boyfriend. I think he would actually love to meet you, let me just go find him.”

“ Y/N, there you are,” Peter’s voice piped behind you as you watched his face fall for a second and then recover,” who’s your friend?”

Your smile faltered,“ R-Right, this is Harry Osborn, Harry, this is my boyfriend...Ned.”

Peter shook Harry’s hand as Peter tried to hide a grin from the fake name,” Nice to meet you, Harry.”

Harry nodded and looked between you two as Peter placed his arm around your hip, bringing you closer,” Well Ned, you’re a lucky man. She’s very smart and might I say very beautiful.”

Peter clenched his jaw as Harry looked you up and down longingly as if he could see straight through your gown. You felt Peter’s grip on your waist tighten but he knew that he had to stay calm so he didn’t compromise the mission.

“ Yes, Y/N is the whole package,” Peter said a bit more confidently as he gave you a small kiss on the cheek,” aren’t you baby?”

Before you could open your mouth, Harry interrupted and took a step forward,” That’s funny, she told me her name was Michelle.”

Peter looked back at your face and while you were now panicking on the inside, you only nodded in response,” Michelle Y/N Jones. Only my close friends call me Y/N.”

“ Really?  You know, now that I’m really thinking about it,” Harry looked between you two and pointed at Peter,” you look like a...Peter Parker. And you, Look like a Y/N L/N. Which is funny because I know two people who work for SHIELD who are allegedly after me. Funny huh?”

Your breath hitched and without thinking, Peter lunged at Harry and the two wrestled to the floor.  You watched as the two struggled on top of one another before Harry got the upper hand, giving him a few good punches before he started to choke him.

You looked at the cart next to you and grabbed a bottle of Champagne before slamming it over Harry’s head. In an instant, Harry slumped over on top of Peter who breathed a sigh of relief.

“ D-Did I kill him?” You asked as you dropped whatever was still intact of the bottle.

Peter shook his head, taking in your appearance. While you didn’t have any physical marks on you, your hair that was neatly tucked into a bun was now loose and all over the place.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Peter asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his lip was definitely busted,”Y/N I am so sorry about blowing your cover and I’m sorry that you-”

You leaned over towards Peter and planted a light kiss to his cheek, which made him instantly turn red. You didn’t know what came over you but the damage was done, now you just had to get out of here.

“ Less talking and more lifting,” you said softly as you both looked down at Harry who was very much unconscious,” The car is waiting downstairs for us so I’ll grab his legs and you grab his arms?”

“ I can carry him myself,” Peter said and you knew he could because of his ‘super strength’ but you shook your head and insisted over a hundred times that you were a strong, capable woman.

Peter took one last longing look at you since his face couldn’t get any redder and nodded as the two of you both lifted Harry down the private staircase. The two of you said nothing, only sharing an occasional groan as you used most of your strength.

“ So what, are we dating now?” Peter asked as he accidentally bumped Henry’s head against the railing.

You huffed and stepped carefully, not wanting to trip over your dress,” I know I drank like three glasses of champagne but I would definitely remember if I asked you out, Parker.”

“ Well you introduced me to  Harry as your boyfriend.”

You stopped moving and placed Harry down on the stairs, your muscles that you hardly ever worked on were already aching. You placed your hands on your hips and shook your head,” Okay well, I technically said you were Ned so that means Ned is my boyfriend.”

You swallowed and looked up at Peter,” But if this is your attempt at trying to ask me out then yes, I will go out with you...only if you carry Harry the rest of the way.”

Peter hid his huge grin and only shrugged plainly, even though he wanted to jump out of excitement,” Fine by me.”

You watched as Peter lifted Harry with ease as if he weighed absolutely nothing.

“Show off,” you said as Peter smirked, knowing that he could get used to this. 

[thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters]

Request: “#42 with Dean + Pregnant!Reader” by @flamencodiva​ 

Prompt: "Time for plan B." - "We didn't even have a plan A." 

Pairing:  Dean x Pregnant!Reader 

Word count: 1.9K 

Warnings: Dean and Sam are both in need of the infamous ‘breathe slowly and count to ten’-method, a tiny bit of angst if you squint 

A/N: Thank you for your patience. Hope you enjoy the read! <3 

Beta: @slytherkins​  

JJ’s Rockin’ 100 - PROMPTS || MASTERLIST || ASK BOX 

(gif)

You woke up in one of the comfortable red armchairs in the bunker’s library. There was an open hardcover copy of ‘A Guide to Growing a Happy Sprout’ spread out over top your round stomach. You remembered sitting down earlier with the intention of reading a few pages. How much time had passed since then, you did not know. As your pregnancy progressed, you kept finding yourself taking accidental naps more and more. 

You stretched but immediately winced at how uncomfortable it made you. Getting up to put the book away, you took a quick glance at the room and found it to be empty. You were pretty sure Sam and Dean were around somewhere, even though you thought it possible you had just slept for literal decades, judging by the heavy drowsiness still fogging your brain. In which case, both Winchesters would be long gone and the world outside the bunker had probably ended. 

On the off-chance that wasn’t true, you decided to have a look around and see where the boys were. You shuffled forward on sock-covered feet, but you had barely made your way out of the library when a loud bang sounded from the hallway, followed by a string of curse words. 

Your hands reached for your belly, covering it instinctively as if to shield your unborn child’s ears from the profanities that carried toward you down the hallway. You recognized the voice as Dean’s, all sleepiness gone in an instant at the possibility of him being in trouble. 

When you reached the door of the room you shared with Dean, you paused. Sam’s voice mixed with Dean’s but you realized they were coming from next door. 

The room next to your bedroom had been empty before you and your husband decided to turn it into a nursery. Nothing much had happened inside so far. All you did was clear out the old Men of Letters’ furniture and paint the walls a soft blue color you picked out after hours of deliberation. Stretched out wide over one of the walls was a colorful rainbow, which you had painted as well, back when you were still able to see your own feet. 

You walked over to the closed door and made a mental note to replace the numbers on it with a cute little sign once you and Dean had decided on a name for the baby. Your hand rested on the door handle and you were about to enter, when Dean’s voice sounded again. 

 “Time for plan B.” His voice was more gruff than usual, indicating he was not in a good mood. 

“We didn’t even have a plan A.” Sam’s response came quick. He sounded as annoyed with his older brother as ever. 

“Shut up, Sammy. You agreed to help me with this.” 

“And I will, once you learn how to read.” 

 “Alright, that’s it. You listen to me…” Dean started, his volume increasing. You decided this would be as good a moment as any to step in and see what was going on. 

The moment the door opened, Sam and Dean went quiet and looked up at you. Both men were sitting on the floor opposite each other. Their long legs were spread out in front of them and they were surrounded by pieces of wood, nails, and assorted tools. You even saw a dangerously sharp looking saw propped up against the wall. Next to them stood a contraption that looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t until you saw the empty box in the corner of the room and the images it had printed on the side, that you realized what the franken-creation next to Sam and Dean was supposed to be. 

“I…” You tried to think of something nice to say. Maybe it would diffuse the tense atmosphere in the room. But you couldn’t think of anything and you didn’t want to lie, so you concluded with, “…have no words.” 

Dean reached out to smack Sam’s shoulder. “I told you!” he hissed. “We did it wrong.” 

Sam rolled his eyes so hard you half expected them to pop out and land at your feet. “Of course, we did it wrong, Dean. My unborn niece or nephew can probably see we did it wrong. Does that look like a crib to you?” He pointed an accusing finger at their unfortunate end result. 

You had ordered a cradle online a few days ago. It was a perfect match with the rest you had planned for the nursery. However, at the moment it didn’t exactly look like a baby would be able to sleep in it. 

Sam looked up at you now. He saw the troubled look in your eyes and quickly got up to put a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said softly. “We’ll fix it.” Then his voice changed again. “It’s just been a challenge so far because someone doesn’t know how to properly read an instruction manual.” His gaze found his brother’s and the two men stared each other down for an unnerving moment. 

“Oh, yeah?” Dean’s voice finally boomed. “Yeah, well… Neither can you!”  

It’s a good thing you didn’t marry the man for his comebacks. 

You put up both your hands, palms forward as if to surrender yourself. “Okay, if we could all just take a breather here,” you suggested with a hopeful tone in your voice. 

Dean didn’t move, but Sam complied. His chest heaved as he breathed in through his nose. Then he turned his attention back to you. “All I’m saying is, when I offered to help with this, I thought Dean would at least have a plan of attack, but he didn’t. Instead he literally attacked and went at it like a freaking animal.” Sam shook his head. “Now we’re gonna have to start this whole thing over from scratch.” 

Dean tried to look angry at first. He clearly didn’t like being called out like this, and struggling with the different parts of the crib for as long as they had, Dean had clearly become grumpy. Then it seemed Sam’s last words finally started to dawn on him and his expression changed to one of pure terror. 

“No way,” he said almost breathlessly. "I am not starting over. Nuh-uh, not happening.” 

You took a step forward and put your hand against Dean’s cheek. It had the intended effect; he visibly relaxed and his eyes softened as he looked up at you. Your thumb gently stroked his stubbled skin. 

“Why don’t you guys take a break,” you suggested, fearing your husband’s sanity if he didn’t step away from this for a moment. “I, for one, am starving. You’re not gonna let me eat dinner all by myself, are you?” 

To your surprise, Dean’s perfect lips pulled into a smile. Behind you, Sam opened the door a little further and stepped into the hallway. 

“I’ll head out to get some grub,” he offered. “A new place opened downtown, they’re supposed to have the best burgers.” 

Your mouth started to water at the mere thought of the junk food Sam was about to get for you. Of course he knew what to suggest to make you happy. You had practically been breathing cheeseburgers. At first your cravings had been all over the place, but these past few weeks it had gotten stuck on anything fat and greasy. The other day, you had finished your burger before Dean had even started his, a miraculous turn of events, if you said so yourself. 

Sam walked ahead, already on his way to the garage. It left you alone with Dean and when the older Winchester went to pass you, your hand reached out to grab his. He stopped and turned to look at you. 

Your eyes gazed back up into his. There was an appreciative smile hanging around your lips, yet your eyebrows were pulled together slightly. 

Dean reached up and let his rough thumb smooth out the soft skin on your forehead. “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping a little closer. You noticed he glanced down quickly toward your baby bump and worry flashed over his face for just a second. You shook your head as if to assure him it didn’t have anything to do with the baby. Not directly, anyway. 

“I worry about you,” you confessed to him. You reached out to take his other hand as well so you were holding both of them. 

Dean seemed genuinely surprised by that. “Me?” he asked. “Why would you be worried about me? Sweetheart, I’m good. You’re the one doing all the work here.” He got that expectant look on his face, the one he always got when he was waiting for his words to make you smile or chuckle. 

You couldn’t, though. Not yet. Instead, the frown reappeared on your face. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice now so soft you wanted to feel it against your skin. “What’s going on? You can tell me.” 

“I know,” you nodded. “It’s just… Are you sure your little outburst just now had nothing to do with you being stressed? You know, about what’s to come?” Now it was your turn to glance down at your belly. 

Dean let go of one of your hands to gently press two fingers underneath your chin and make you look back up at him again. “Trust me when I say, I have never felt more certain about anything in my life than I feel about us and our future right now.” 

You closed your eyes, as if to savor this moment forever. Finally, you smiled. 

Dean leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “And I’ll fix that crib as soon as possible,” he promised. “Even if it’s gonna take a bunch of hocus pocus to get it done.” 

“Let’s eat first,” you reminded him while you started tugging him toward the doorway. But apparently Dean had yet to finish making his point known. 

His face dead serious all of a sudden, “If anything is to blame, it’s this furniture from hell.” 

“You mean Ikea?” 

“That’s what I said; hell.” Dean shook his head. “The damn instructions don’t even have words in them, Y/N!” He sounded outraged, as if a great injustice had been laid upon him. “You can give me a completely dismantled car and I’ll put it back together just like that, no problem. But this… No, this is pure evil. I’m telling you.” 

You laughed, amused by how deeply rooted Dean’s hate for instruction manuals apparently was. “All right, I get it,” you soothed him. “Now can we please go sit down? My feet are killing me.” 

That seemed to snap Dean out of his tirade. He hadn’t realized how long you had been standing up straight already. Though to be fair, neither had you until that point, but you were glad Dean finally started walking with you toward the kitchen. 

You promised to help out with building the cradle after dinner, and Dean accepted your offer under one condition. 

“Nothing too physical,” he said. “Sammy and I can bring one of those chairs in from the library for you to sit in while you boss us around.” 

A slap was heard as your hand came in contact with his arm. 

“I mean ‘help’!” Dean quickly tried to save himself. “While you help us.” 

His laughter did not do much for his credibility.

[k-writer1998]

Who Said Love Was Easy (3/12)

      There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 2.1k

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      Summer lectures, design deadlines and no focus because of that brat. It’s been three years, they shouldn’t have this effect on me anymore… Even if I tell myself that, that woman has such a strong oppressive energy. I always feel like I’m suffocating. Ugh just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach. Needing a change of pace I decided to walk to the pub to wait for Changbin. The bustle of the city was a comforting white noise to drown out my thoughts since I really needed to just… not think for a bit. That is, until I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand. With this new sense of anxiety I finally noticed the black car, not so subtly, following me. Luckily the street the pub was on was too narrow for cars and it was entering my line of sight. I checked my phone reflection as a man got out and of course it would be him. Picking up my pace to get away did nothing as he still caught me and forced me to turn around, keeping a hold on my wrist.

“Why are you running away from me?”

“I don’t know, maybe because some random car was following me, a girl who is alone, for over five minutes?” I reply sarcastically.

“I’ve been calling you but you weren’t answering.”

“Call? I probably blocked your number. Look, I’m not interested in pretending to rekindle some broken bond.”

“Y/n… don’t be like this you know I-”

“Don’t pull the remorseful brother act, Youngho-oppa. If you really cared you would have looked for me after I left,” I spat.

      Unlike his sister Younghee who openly showed her indifference, not hearing from him was worse than being thrown out. Youngho was the only one in the entire family that showed me a smidge of kindness, let alone acknowledging my presence when no one else did. It wasn’t until a year after being kicked out did I learn I was nothing more than a stray puppy he played with cause he was bored.

“Don’t be like this y/n. Mom hasn’t been in the right state of mind since dad died. She didn’t mean to hurt you and she’s trying to make it up to you,” he coaxed, pulling me in to stop the wandering ears from hearing.

“That’s a load of shit and you know it. That woman never liked me the minute I was brought in and she made sure everyone but dad knew that. Will she give back the shares to dad’s company that are rightfully mine?”

      His eyebrow twitched and I caught the crack in his facade. Every single one of them are selfish creatures and they will never betray their true nature, a fact I learned the hard way and will not underestimate again.

“Y/n things are sensitive now as is, you can’t just ask for something like that. Why would you want something like those? Aren’t you studying design?”

“Wow, someone did their research. If design doesn’t work I should at least have the shares to give me some support. It was a decent portion wasn’t it?” I pushed.

“Stop acting like a child there are bigger things going on so just cooperate. The faster you do the less we have to see each other. Do you think I have time to chase you around like this?”

      And his true color shows. By now his hold on my arm had turned into a vice grip and it hurt like hell but I couldn’t show weakness now, they don’t get to win after everything.

“Ha… I can’t believe I waited six months to hear from you like you actually cared. Sometimes you really are worse than your mother.”

      My head snapped to the side in an instant and it was numb for a moment before the stinging settled in. I knew something of this caliber would happen… for his own reasons he hated his mother. Who knew it would tick him off that much? Before either of us could come back from the shock, a hand broke the hold on my wrist and my line of sight was covered by someone’s back. The mystery person shielded me from my brother and I immediately recognized the ring on their pinky. Should I be glad or panicked that Jeongin’s here?

“Sorry I’m late, is this person bothering you?”

“Oh? Is this your boyfriend?” Youngho smirked, eyeing him up and down.

“No.” I roll my eyes, trying my best to mask my unease. Jeongin doesn’t need to be dragged into my family drama. I tug at his hand lightly and he turned to look back at me, “Come on, we’re late meeting the others. This conversation is over anyways.”

      Once in front of the pub, Jeongin turned to examine my face. Seeing such concern in his eyes I couldn’t stop the surge of emotion that came over me as tears started to fall.

“Are you okay?! You must’ve been scared…” he panicked and I shook my head.

“Thank you,” I sniffed.

“You still got hit… I can’t believe-”

“It’s whatever.” This was not the first time someone from that family raised their hand to me, I expected nothing less… and I did purposefully push his buttons. “I deserved it. I provoked him.”

      In an instant my gaze that was trained on the ground was forced to meet his piercing eyes by the gentle force of his hand nudging my chin. He had leaned in so that we were eye level and my brain nearly short circuited at his close proximity. Well that’s one way to stop tears.

“It doesn’t matter if you provoked him, that shouldn’t have happened y/n. No one deserves that, do you understand?”

      It surprised me how serious he was about this. I don’t know if it was the butterflies from how close he was or the unsettling feeling of being… perceived, but I couldn’t think. Instead I numbly nodded, my eyes never leaving his as if under a spell. The corner of his lips quirked up at my response before he ushered me into the pub and sat me in my usual seat. He tossed a bag to Chan, that I hadn’t noticed he had, before disappearing to the back. Jeongin re-emerged with some ice and placed it on my face causing me to wince a bit. Taking it from his hands, he reached for my arm but I instinctively pulled away.

“Is your arm okay?”

“It’s fine. Probably slightly bruised at most but nothing serious.”

      He eyed me suspiciously but before he could say anything Jaehyung barged over, worry written all over his face.

“Y/n! What happened?!”

“It’s nothing,” I smiled. He immediately whirled on Jeongin and gave him a pointed look.

“I caught some guy bothering her when I was out buying Chan-hyung some Advil and he… slapped her,” he responded guiltily. 

      I don’t know if I should admire or be annoyed by his honesty. I tiredly rubbed my forehead, already feeling the anger rolling off of Jaehyung. 

“Don’t feel guilty Jeongin,” I smiled before turning to Jaehyung. “Thanks for getting mad for me but it’s not worth it Jaehyung-oppa.”

“Was it your fam-”

“Yes,” I cut him off, but that was more than enough for Jeongin to put the pieces together. Not wanting to hear anything from either of them I add, “I’m fine, really. Plus Changbin is coming so don’t worry okay?”

“Not worry? You usually end up home drunk and always make bad decisions with him.”

“Ninety-six percent of the time it’s me, bad decisions help relieve stress you know,” I smile like a child trying not to get in trouble.

      Jaehyung ruffled my hair with a resigned sigh before telling me not to come home too drunk and went off. Jeongin kept me company but I had to ignore his eyes that were filled with questions I didn’t want to answer. Luckily Changbin came soon after but his eyes zeroed in on my cheek and was ready to square up with Jeongin before I intervened.

"Nope. I'll explain later, let's go." I gave him no time to argue as I waved Jeongin goodbye and sped to the door.

      Knowing that I’ve come from a deprived childhood, Changbin’s lenient with me and my impulses. That being said, tonight is a total bust. Instead of somewhere fun, we’re at some restaurant because as Changbin puts it, he needs to “gage my recklessness” since I “act up more” when my family is involved.

“I ordered some food… and alcohol since I promised to take you out to have fun but before that, what the hell happened? Who hit you? Wh-”

“Are you going to keep going or do you actually want me to answer the questions?”

“Obviously answer them you smart ass. ”

“Long story short it was Youngho and the guy from the pub basically saved me more or less.”

      His eyes softened at the mention of my brother. The first six months I was kicked out I stayed with Changbin until Hyorin, my mom's best friend who had been acting like an actual guardian for me since my dad died, helped me find an affordable place. He’s the one who saw the emotional toll it took when the one person I believed to be on my side threw me away. 

“I would’ve thought he would be too busy with company stuff to come out, especially since he is under a microscope right now with the chairman’s health issues and all.”

“That’s why wicked stepmother and her children are on my tail. They’re trying to exploit our relationship, tied by nothing more than my father’s blood, to try to win grandma over cause she is fond of me and has a big share.” I ran an annoyed hand through my hair before whining, “so can we go clubbing?”

“Yeah… no. I’ll be having to pry off some guy from trying to take you home because you’re wasted.”

“No. That only happened like… four? times…”

“Four times too many. But drink your fill here and let Mr. Neighbor know that you’re staying at mine. If I bring you home drop dead drunk again I think he would actually kill me.”

“You’re probably right,” I laugh before shooting a quick text to Jaehyung. Once I put my phone down, the waitress came in with our order and I pointed at Changbin, “no talking about the unholy trinity or I’m leaving to go be unsupervised.”

“Yes, yes. I spoil you too much,” he sighs before adding, “how is the chairman anyways?”

“Grandpa still wants to believe I don’t exist and last I heard from grandma was that his heart isn’t in good health. It’s hard to treat when they’re trying to hide it from the company. Everyone knows he’s sick but not how bad,” I respond flatly.

“... Okay one question and I’ll stop. Who are the other runner ups other than… you know who?”

      I downed my second shot in annoyance. Changbin and Jaehyung could be good friends if they let it happen, they’re both so nosy… I could care less about company drama though so I tell him. Not like I’ll get in trouble.

“I- Are you asking me to leave?”

“Oh come on, if they’re this desperate that means there are other strong candidates right?”

“Fine.” I glare, shoving some food in my mouth before answering, “They’re looking into my cousin Wooin and a long-term director Jihyo. They have high performance with successful big projects under their belt in addition to having the favor of various important people.”

“Okay, so what’s this about finding Loverboy? It’s been what? A year with no contact?”

“Of course I do. That was the first time I formed a fat crush on a guy I just met,” I roll my eyes. “It’s the guy you wanted to beat up, Jeongin. It’s been a few months but he’s been working at Jaehyung’s pub.”

      I don’t know if it was the alcohol doing its job but I started to get sentimental as I thought back to our first meeting. That night was during a relatively low point in my life and I was losing touch with the world around me, but he was the first thing I found interest in after a long time. As if my brain wanted to torture me, the image of his face mere inches from mine popped back into my mind.

“Did something already happen?! Your face is red!”

“Shut up. He still has a girl he likes so no.”

“Still?” Changbin whistles in surprise, “That’s what I call devotion. Does he remember you?”

“Nope. To make matters… interesting, she works there too and has a crush on Jaehyung-oppa.”

“Wait that cute new waitress? On that old man? And I thought you had problems,” he laughs.

[knybits]

THE HATING GAME — 1

PAIRINGS —

↳ kochou shinobu x reader 

SUMMARY —

↳ Geniuses within the same field yet rivals within each other’s eyes, your colleagues wonder when the sexual tension will break so that you two will become the department’s powerhouse couple so that they can enter you two into the couples contest against the other departments. Some things might have to be done by force.

WARNINGS —

↳ cursing, alcohol, smut  

AUTHOR NOTE —

↳ look bros,,, i KNOW that it’s supposed to be last name first then first name,,, but the setting here is like idk fucking harvard or oxford lets get crazy. basically youre not in japan and youre a big brain bitch youre welcome. also,,, please drink responsibly and ask for consent. stay safe :,)

[ Navigation ] 

—

It’s not like you always hated the genius that is Shinobu Kochou. 

Besides yourself, she’s the other shining diamond within the chemistry department. The transfer student from Japan that doesn’t let her language barrier hold her back. In fact, she might even be more fluent in English than you (which is dumb because it’s your mother tongue but hey, she’s the genius here remember?) 

Lilac painted nails with no chips and red glossed lips is Shinobu Kochou. Wrinkless lab coat and a face free of goggle imprints after an experiment is Shinobu Kochou. She’s pristine and a league above you (she might even be super rich but you could never find out.) 

Sometimes she would slip out Japanese phrases or mumble in Japanese under her breath, so you know that her voice sounds the exact same no matter which language she speaks. It’s sweet like honey- a complete trap- and it intoxicates those around her to do her bidding (she’s a witch and you’d be damned to be proven wrong because this bit of information will go down with you.) 

You’ve never spoken to her so you know that your dislike is misplaced. A mature adult would admit that this hate is more so envy, but fuck that. 

Shinobu Kochou is perfect, flawless, an angel, and you hate it. 

It doesn’t help that she would smile in your direction at times and wave a hand at you with nothing but kindness. You ignore her, of course, and your colleagues can’t fathom why you would walk past the princess without even acknowledging her. 

And yet, for some reason, you find half of your department on their knees in front of you. 

“Please date Shinobu! You’re our last hope!!” Your friend cries out, shoving a crummy “free beer on me” coupon she literally wrote up on a bright pink sticky note on her way over to you with 16 other people in tow. 

“You want me to do what?” 

Someone else steps forward to produce a flyer that another random department pasted up around the school. When you snatch the paper from them, the first thing you read is “department couple” and immediately decide to crumple the paper up. 

“Wait! You didn’t even read it!” 

“I’ve read enough,” you seethe, steam pour from your mouth as everyone cowers in fear of your sleep deprived self. 

“C’mon (F/n)!” Your friend whines, draping herself over you and grovelling at your feet. “All the other departments are taking part in it! Each department pitches in $500 per couple and then they compete! Whichever couple wins receives the whole pool of money for their department!” 

“Does everyone here even have enough money to pitch in $500??” 

Someone else pipes in, “For a chance at over $6,000? We’re willing to take it.” There’s a low murmur of agreement from everyone and you roll your eyes. Everyone begins to throw empty promises at you (about as worthless as the crappy pink sticky note in your hand) before you narrow your eyes into a deathly glare at the crowd. 

“There’s no way in hell you idiots will get me to date Shinobu Kochou. I’d rather an experiment blow up in my face than date her,” with those final words you storm away, lab coat fluttering the least bit for stupid dramatic effect and everyone is left speechless. 

—

You’re in the middle of heating up your cup ramen when your roommate (the one that “gifted” you a free beer coupon) comes home, shuffling in. She has a guilty look on her face that bleeds “this is just for show.”  

Araceli drapes herself across the counter for your attention but you decide not to pay her any mind, instead taking your cup ramen- fork stuck through the lid to keep the hot steam in- to the couch and turning the TV on. 

You have three minutes to find a show to watch, but that plan goes to shit when Araceli groans aloud for your attention. 

“What,” you snap and Araceli comes crawling over from the counter and into your side on the couch, her arms wrapped around your waist. 

“I feel bad-” 

“No you don’t.” 

She keeps going despite your rude interruption, “But everyone in the department decided to go to the club tonight. I owe you more than just one drink, so pleaaaassseee,” she bats her eyelashes at you (they’re incredibly long and you’re envious them.) 

Araceli’s puppy dog face always gets you to cave and you find yourself angrily shoving some half cooked noodles into your mouth. That response is enough for her to cheer, squeezing you even harder than she already is. 

“Your wallet better be prepared,” you quip as you resume a show you desperately need to catch up on. You don’t catch the mischievous glint in her eyes, yourself already pinned to the plot of your show as it does its job to empty your head. 

—

Clubs aren’t really your scene. 

You used to go to them often when you started out as a freshman in college, but it lost its charm by your junior year. Now you prefer drinking in your apartment, every month or so slipping back onto campus to conduct some random experiments to allow Araceli her time with whoever she brought home. 

There’s something about a club that lets you (loosely) compare it to a masquerade ball (loosely.) Music plays and alcohol burns so strongly within everyone’s systems that they can’t see the face of the person they’re grinding on. Oh, and within their respective timelines, you have to dress up for both a ball and a club. 

In one of your more scandalous outfits, you can’t help but check yourself out in the mirror before dipping because damn do you look HOT and everybody better take some fucking notes. You confidence shoots up when Araceli whistles the second you step out of your room, and the two of you drive to the club a couple blocks from the college. 

Before you two step into the booming building, Araceli waves wildly at her boyfriend with a bright smile. They give each other a quick kiss in greeting and a sudden thought crosses your mind. 

“Why don’t you two enter the contest?” 

Araceli tuts at you, wagging a finger in disappointment before saying, “See? This is why you have to read the whole poster dear roomie. The couple has to be two people from the same department.” Unfortunately, her boyfriend is from the modern literature department (how they met, you have no clue.) 

The three of you make your grand entrance and everyone within your department (making up most of the club right now) scream with delight before ushering you over. A shot of tequila is pushed into your hands and you smile before downing your first drink of the night.

With a never ending stream of alcohol being passed into your hands and some good fucking music (the club on the other side of town has some down right god awful music that the math department and social science department likes) you finally let your hair down. Every once in a while, some sad drunk would cry to you, apologizing for asking you to do something you don’t want to do. When they hear your laugh over the loudspeaker they laugh with you, and another drink is passed into your hands. 

The bass shakes the room and you jump to the beat, cheering and whooping during every drinking game. Araceli hangs off your shoulders when you both take a shot at the same time, and her boyfriend leads her onto the dance floor. 

You’re sober enough- barely-  to watch your best friend with fond eyes, her boyfriend and she dancing like idiots to the music and laughing as if they’re little kids. They’re horribly off beat when they jump but watching Araceli have the time of her life is enough to make you happy, and you’re glad you went to the club. 

Araceli catches your eye from across the room and she stumbles towards you, taking ahold of your hand before handing you one last shot. 

“Down it and let’s dance!!!” She yells and you do as told, throat burning and ears barely picking up her cheers as she drags you onto the dance floor. 

By this time you’re actually honest to god shitfaced, but that’s fine. The music shifts and people that recognize the song go apeshit, yelling and jumping all at once at the bass drop. Araceli dances with her boyfriend, but the second you blink she’s gone with the rest of the crowd and you’re left alone to dance on your own. 

When a song that you recognize starts to play you begin to sing along, but your voice gets caught when someone backs up into you. What was an innocent bump quickly turns into something more and now you’re one of the blackout drunk idiots that isn’t aware of who is grinding on them. 

You can tell it’s a female when your hands move to grip her waist, and her back presses up against your chest. She smells of lavender and sweat, and her jet black hair tickles your nose. You can’t help but smile at this new feeling, and she makes a daring move to take one of your hands and lift it to grope her left breast. 

With a hum of delight, you loop your finger around a belt band and twirl her around to face you. All you can see is big amethyst eyes, half lidded and staring pointedly at your lips. 

“Can I kiss-!” You try to yell over the music, but that’s enough of an ‘okay’ to this mystery woman before her lips are greedily pressed to your’s. 

There’s instant tongue, and you don’t expect anything less from someone so bold. She’s somehow slipped a hand under your shirt, feeling her way up your chest and you move a hand to grip her ass. 

That’s the last thing you remember before your mind blanks from the ecstasy that is this mystery woman. There’s the brief flash of stumbling into an Uber, a soft and breathy voice giving directions as you suck on her neck like some teenager. 

Then there’s the feeling of silk bed sheets, your fingers dripping wet after fucking her senseless and the look of excitement in her eyes as you lick up all her juices, tongue gliding up your digits. 

At some point you have her slammed up against the walls and at another point your tongue explores her pretty little cunt. The constant sound of moaning, pleading, begging and you calling her a “good girl” circles through your head (though the latter is something you find yourself embarrassed about.) 

Your eyes open to bright sunlight and a royal bitch of a headache. A low groan rumbles from the back of your throat and you bury your head into the pillows, but the scent throws you off because this is not your pillow. 

When you look over the edge of your side of whoever’s bed you’re in, you catch sight of condom wrappers and your clothes scattered across the room. You also see a blindfold, but you decide not to think too hard back on that memory. 

Warm arms slide its way around your waist and you freeze in surprise. A sickly sweet giggle fills your ears and when you turn to face the person you spent the night with your face pales considerably. 

Shinobu Kochou, the witch herself, smiles at you peacefully. Her lipstick is smeared and there are a plethora of hickies scattered across her neck (you can only assume that there are more under the covers) but the sunlight bounces off her cheekbones so nicely it irritates you. 

“Good morning (F/n). Did you sleep well?” Shinobu coos, and your life spirals into hell. 

—

[ Next Chapter ]

[n0longerhuman]

Can i request a scenario for Bokuto where his girlfriend is pregnant and is scared to tell him because she thinks he doesn’t want kids so she starts avoiding him and he asks Akaashi for advice on what to do

y/n: ty for your request !! im writing this while I'm under an exam session, so it may not be the best of my works, but I hope you like it anyway.

genre: kind of angst but with a fluffy ending

𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭.

Seeing the two lines on the pregnancy test, had shaken in Y/N a mixture of emotions that at that moment she wouldn't even have had the ability to describe. She'd stayed there for a few seconds, barely breathing. She couldn't believe it. Her hand resting on her mouth in complete shock, her eyes wide that dared not take the gaze off that piece of plastic that she held in her hands and that had just given her the news of one of the most significant turning points in her life. She couldn't understand how she should've felt at that moment, it seemed to her that she wouldn't have had the strength to be able to manage such a situation, at such an early age. A person like her couldn't have been a good mother, she couldn't have raised a child at best. But the thought didn't go only to her, but also the person with whom she would hypothetically share that child: Bokuto Kōtarō. The thought of having to confess what had happened to the boy passed through her like an icy wind in an instant. She didn't want to watch his reaction, she didn't want to be abandoned, not at a time like that. Bokuto was now pursuing a career as an important volleyball player and certainly wouldn't have had any time to devote himself to a son, Y/N knew that without a doubt he would give up the child. His life would have been destroyed at that age, and it would have been her fault too. And she?

Did she want to keep it? At that moment, it seemed to her that her head was about to burst, she hadn't even noticed that she was trembling. She was so panicked that she didn't even have the right strength to cry.

Y/N came out of the bathroom with a rather slow pace, her hands hidden in her pocket and her gaze down. To say that she was afraid to face that situation was little, but she couldn't remain hidden forever.

She took her phone once she threw herself on the bed, and as usual she found the familiar messages from Kōtarō, one in particular said: «I should finish earlier tonight, wanna watch a movie?»  She sighed, finally realizing that her heart was beating wildly. Her fingers wrote even before she could connect her mind to her hand, and immediately the answer was an «I'm sorry, today I really can't, we'll have to put it off.»

And at that moment, Y/N exactly imagined the boy's reaction, since she didn't dare to give up not even an opportunity that she'd have had in seeing Bokuto and tried to take advantage of every free hole in their days, so as to be able to stay with him as often as possible, despite countless commitments.

In fact, on his side, his face became corrupted in reading that unusual answer, perhaps even colder than the usual ones he was used to receiving from the girl. It seemed almost strange to him, but he decided not to say anything about it. After all, she too could have had some unforeseen and this was probably the cause of the invitation declined that evening. Or at least, so he thought.

In the days and weeks that followed, Y/N began to become increasingly distant. The times they could see each other decreased more and more, as did the duration of their outings. Y/N's behavior had become decidedly more aloof, she always seemed thoughtless and about to want to say something, something that never came out of her mouth, but Bokuto couldn't understand what he had done wrong to make it happen. Obviously he had asked her; he could no longer hold that heavy weight on his heart, he couldn't bear to see her feel bad because it made him feel bad too. But her response was a reassurance for him. «It's okay, Kō'. Don't worry, really. I'm fine.»

But as stubborn as he was, the boy couldn't stop brooding over it, trying to understand why his girlfriend had become so cold towards him.  He would have liked to solve this problem and go back to spending as much time as he could with her, since both were always busy and he missed her so much.

«Akaashi, ― the big owl came up with what the raven-haired boy recognized for the expression the ace had during one of the usual mental breakdowns ― do you think Y/N hates me?»

Akaashi raised his eyebrows with a questioning expression, not understanding the reason for the question. Whenever he happened to see the couple or to go out with them, the girl always seemed to him very fond of the captain. «Why should she hate you, Bokuto-san?»

And at that moment, Kōtarō explained to his best friend the bad situation he was in, Akaashi too had to admit how much he was a bit displaced. «Honestly, I think you should try to ask her again what's wrong, this time without her lying. If she told you she's okay, it could mean she doesn't want you to worry and didn't realize she was getting the opposite result.»

As Akaashi spoke, Bokuto could almost see the wheels of his brain moving quickly in a perfectly combined manner.  «Something's probably happened to her and she wants you to stay out of it. I'm sure she's doing it for your own good, Bokuto-san.»

After that brief conversation with the vice-captain, Kōtarō decided to organize himself for that evening. This time, he would show up at the girl's house without even warning first. He thought that perhaps in surprise she would finally decide to explain to him what was happening to her. And for this reason, at nine o'clock in the evening, Bokuto knocked on her door.

Y/N winced at the sound of those steady fists tapping the front door of her house with confidence. She could have recognized him anywhere, she thought at that moment. Again, she felt her heart pounding at an incredible rate. Panicking on that occasion was absolutely not the right thing. She got up, somewhat hesitant, and went to the door and then opened it. In front of her was the boy, an envelope in his hand containing what looked like food and, before she could even say a word, the boy muttered a: «I brought you food and no, I don't accept negative answers.»

The dinner was silent, the evidence of the problem was now clear.  Bokuto couldn't take it anymore, not seeing how much she couldn't even look him in the eyes.

«Y/N, listen, I have no idea what's happening to you but I seriously need you to tell me about it ― began the young man, and when he didn't receive any response once again, he decided to continue ― Why the heck are you doing this? Can you at least explain to me what I did to you? And if it wasn't me, what on earth is bothering you so much that you can't even explain it to your boyfrien―»

«I'M PREGNANT!» The answer came out brutally from the girl's lips, her hands holding the edge of the sweatshirt she was wearing at the time, her eyes already full of tears and focused on the figure of the person she had just screamed at unwittingly.

It seemed to him that his own body was disappearing at that moment, the severed breath, the wide eyes and the parted lips captured the boy's face in an evident expression that expressed pure disbelief. 

«Wh-what?» His voice, barely a whisper, blocked by the strong shiver that had run from head to toe at that moment.

«I'm pregnant, I didn't tell you anything because I knew it would end badly and I didn't want to give you even more worries, Kōtarō. I know you don't want a child and I understand it perfectly, I-I didn't want it to end between us and I swear to you that... I'll do something about it, I'm just so worried because I don't know what to do and this thing scares me a lot.»

Every word that Y/N had said, had reached Bokuto's heart as if they were swords. He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. He had no idea how it could've happened, and he was afraid of not being able to get out of it in the best way, but the thing that had hurt him most was the fact that she had avoided talking to him about something so big to just protect him.

He was so mortified that he hadn't even noticed that his tears had started to drop like those of the girl in front of him. He said nothing, only pulled her to him and held her so tight that for a moment it seemed to him that she had stopped breathing.

«Never say such a thing again, Y/N. It's something bigger than us, but that doesn't mean we can't solve it! I will respect any of your choices and I will be happy to share any road you want to take, because I love you ― with a slightly higher voice, Bokuto didn't dare to detach from her body ― I would never abandon you, do not even say it as a joke, okay?»

Y/N was completely taken aback. The boy's words, so unusual if heard from his mouth, struck her even more than she was already shaken in principle because of that situation, and this led her to burst into tears that made her chest hurt. She hid her face in the hollow of his neck, trying to stifle the sobs, while his hand began to caress her hair muttering some 'It's all right, I'm here.'

«I don't know who to thank for bringing me to meet someone like you, seriously.» this was the only thing she managed to whisper, terribly tired. And for the first time, she seemed to see a light of hope to go through that terrible moment.

Bokuto couldn't think how difficult it had been for her to hold that weight and carry it on silently for so long, and he was sure that, until the last moment, he would have taken all of himself to help her.

«We'll make it, we'll make it together.»