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hxt1b · 4 years

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Hot and Cold

Jaemin x Reader

Requested Prompts, 31, 46 "is that mine" and "I can't believe you did that."

Genre: SMUT

Warning: swearing, a lot of teasing

WC: 1.4k

Masterlist

Prompt List you can send any requests you have, I am currently taking them!

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors, as usual I did my bed to read it over but some things may have slipped though. Also this was a request that I got and it took me a really long time to get to it. So I apologize for that as well, I really hope you guys like this!

"Is that mine?" Jaemin asked strolling into your kitchen. You jumped not knowing he'd come over. You frowned at him as he laughed.

"This shirt?" You asked, looking down at the black shirt you had on. "Yes, it is."

You smiled at him as you turned back to the stove waiting for the water to boil so that you could put the noodles in.

"You know babe, stealing is bad." He stated as he snaked his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

"It's not stealing, it's borrowing." You said. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he chuckled turning you around.

He pulled you to him as he leaned back into the counter opposite the stove. His lips pushing against yours as he pushed his hands up your shirt.

"You look hot in my clothes." He said in between kisses before he tightened his hold. His hand moved to cup your face, and you pulled away slightly. His thumb resting on the corner of your mouth. You looked up at him, before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it. Jaemin's breath hitched, his hand on your waist tightening.

"I can't believe you did that." He breathed.

You watched him as you slowly let his thumb go, your saliva coating it. You could feel his erection press into you through his sweats and you giggled at him before turned back to your noodles.

You let out a gasp when Jaemin grabbed you again, one of his hands coming down over your eyes as he pulled your head to him tilting it to the side. The other one pulling your hips so that he could ground his hips into your ass.

"You don't think I'm just gonna let you go like that do you?" He asked his voice low. You shivered his breath hit your ear, your pulse racing as his hand wandered up under your shirt again coming up to your braless breast.

Jaemin clicked his tongue at you before biting down on the soft skin under your ear. He reached past you and turned off the stove, before pulling you with him to your bedroom.

He kissed you roughly as he stopped at the foot of your bed before pulling away and removing his shirt before taking yours off, leaving you in just a pair of panties. His eyes raked over your body as he swore.

He pushed you into the bed before following you himself.

"Move up." He instructed, giving you room to scoot up closer to the head of the bed.

"You're so hot." He said, brushing his lips against yours as he grabbed your breast roughly. His hands cold against your quickly heating skin.

Abruptly rolling off you Jaemin opened up your nightstand, you whined at the lost contact and rolled onto your side, he rolled back with handcuffs and a blindfold. You pouted at him, he simply ignored you.

"You know you'll have fun." He said as he took your hands and tied them to your headboard, before following with the blindfold.

You closed your eyes, your heart beating against your ribs, threatening to crack out of your chest. You'd done this once before and ever since then you'd been trying to find a way to wind up your boyfriend enough to get him in this space again. Who knew all you had to do was suck his thumb while wearing his shirt.

The bed moved as he got off of it.

You whined his name and he shushed you. You heard his footsteps leave the bedroom as you squirmed on the bed. Your breathing shallowing at the anticipation of wondering what Jaemin was doing.

You felt him move back onto the bed seconds later. His cold hands returning to your body causing you to shiver.

"So fucking hot." He muttered again to himself. You couldn't help but smile.

You could feel his face hovering over your breast, his breath lighting a fire on your already flaming skin. You arched your chest into him and he chuckled. Obliging you this once as he took your nipple into his mouth, lightly biting on the hard numb. You moaned as he did so.

You moaned his name as he copied the same action on the other side. Before he retreated from you again. Your lips parted open as you waited for him again. He liked taking his time, but you couldn't stand it. Whining you moved your hips thrusting against the air. You heard Jaemin laugh from your side, a clinking coming from his direction as he grabbed something from the nightstand again.

"Ready baby?" He asked and you nodded. Instantly letting out a cry as ice dipped against the centre of your stomach, another piece moved around your nipples making them impossibly hard, you could feel Jaemins lips brush along the soft skin as he moved to the other breast.

You wanted the blindfold off, you wanted to see him. Your hands moved before you could think, only to be stopped by the handcuffs. You moaned again at the feel of the metal biting into your skin, Jaemin moved his head lower and his hand went lower as well moving into your panties.

You cried out again when the ice ghosted over your folds. Your mind was on cloud nine, as your hips began to move on their own accord, no thoughts in your head besides his name. You shuddered as he pressed the ice down onto your clit, his name leaving your mouth in a whine.

He cooed at you, his fingers moving the ice again as he pressed two fingers into you, the ice cube with them and he kept his hand still.

"Move for me, baby." He said. You could barely breathe properly, but you moved your hips on his hands, you could hear the lewd sound your body was making, the squelching filling the air along with your pants.

He curled his fingers, hitting you at a different angle every time you moved now. Your mouth fell open as your mind fogged over.

"Jaemin please." You whined as your hips slowed down.

"Please what Y/N?" He asked. You just whined the word please again as you felt tears gather in your eyes.

"Please." You whimpered again. You left his body cover yours as his fingers finally moved again, his thumb brushing against your clit. You were getting close, his fingers curling inside you as they hit your sweet spot. You were a mess underneath him, whimpering and moaning as nonsense words flew out of your mouth.

You were so close, your core clenching around his fingers making him groan.

"Are you close?" He asked, you managed to nod, your hips snapping against his hand again.

He pulled his fingers out and pressed a kiss to your jaw. You were shocked for a second as your climax receded.

"Wha- Jaemin!" You cried as he continued to kiss up to your jaw towards your mouth.

"Not yet, you can't cum yet." He said and took off your blindfold.

You blinked up at him, as you adjusted to the light in the room. He was out of his pants, his cock angry and pointed at you as he got up onto his knees.

"Still taking your birth control like a good girl?" He asked, taking your underwear off. You nodded, and without waiting a second he pushed into you, his hands grabbing your hips as you let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion. He didn't give you too much time to adjust as he began to thrust himself.

"I'm not gonna last long." He said throwing his head back. You kept your eyes on him, the veins in his neck standing out as he fucked you. It's not like you were gonna last much longer either. Your orgasm crept up on you as he moved, his hips slapping against yours at a bruising rate. You stopped breathing as you came, your mind going blank. The white-hot heat spread over your body as you spasmed in Jaemins grasp, his thrusts egging along your climax.

Jaemin moaned as you clenched around him, his own orgasm ripping through him as you began to come down from yours. He thrust into you sloppily a couple more times before falling into you. Both of you panting as you tried to calm your beating heart.

Jaemin pressed a kiss to your lips before slowly pulling himself out of you. You groaned as he did, your hands jerking against your restraints again, Jaemin looked up at the jingling sound and smiled at you before grabbing the key and letting you out.

He kissed your wrists as he pulled you into him.

"You need to wear more of my clothes."

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solarwonux · 3 years

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8. “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

25. “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see.” “So?”

marketing director!mingyu x f!reader

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: a little bitt of angst, a little bit of fluff, suggestive themes like voyeurism briefly mentioned

note: ngl, I’m sorry not my best work but I TRIED. Let me know your thoughts it would really help me out a lot. Thank you for reading.xx

masterlist || prompt list

Kim Mingyu - Marketing Director

The nameplate on the door sends a shiver up your spine, knowing that the man you had accidentally pulled in for a drunk kiss the night before during the weekly company bonding dinner, was sitting just behind the door. He was pissed, had pushed you away, made a big deal in wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust. Causing you to sober up quickly and regretting it.

It’s no secret that God had taken his sweet time when creating Kim Mingyu Marketing Director of GoSe Enterprises. He put all the Greek Gods you spent your free time reading about to shame. You’ve been crushing on him since he sat in the cubicle next to yours for years. The two of you had developed a nice easy-going friendship. He was sweet, funny, and always offered amazing advice, both on personal and professional matters. You were practically head over heals for him.

Then the promotion came, granting Mingyu with an office on the southside of the company building. Huge windows overlooking the city below, and the office. A nice fancy gold nameplate with his new job description underneath it. Naturally, the two of you grew apart, ripped from one another without a warning. He was no longer rooting for you and your ideas. Instead, he was the one turning down all your project proposals. He was the one assigning you the revision tasks he knew you hated doing. He was the reason for the random spikes of anxiety throughout the workday. He was no longer your friend, he was your supervisor. His soft demeanor and fleeting touches were nowhere to be found. Lost amongst piles of paperwork surrounding his desk.

You took a deep breath holding your laptop close against your chest, eyeing the nameplate on the large dark wooden door that took your Mingyu away from you a year ago. You were nervous. He only ever called you down to his office if you had a proposal revision due, which this time you didn’t.

The last idea you had pitched two weeks ago was turned down before you could finish your sentence during your first PowerPoint slide. He didn’t even give you the chance to improve it, simply said, “trash it, it’s not worth wasting your time when it’s not a plausible option.” So, the only other option left and the one that made sense was your slip-up the night before. He had called you down to ask for your resignation letter for breaking company policy.

“If you keep staring at the door it won’t magically open,” Chan spoke next to you making you jump. “I’m just saying.” He shrugged sheepishly and opened the door, walking in with confidence. “Mingyu I have the copies you asked for.”

You filed in after him, situating yourself close to the wall and by the door, while Mingyu instructed Chan on where to set down the copies. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, watching as the two of them laughed about some inside joke they had. The anger along with jealousy boiled with fever deep within you.

This was the problem. Mingyu had only changed when it came to you. With everyone else he was the same Mingyu you once had the pleasure of knowing, and that not only confused you but it made you angry. “Are we still on for guys' night this friday?” Chan asked the older male pointing finger guns at him.

“Yes, of course, drinks are on Seungcheol this time, which makes my wallet really happy.” Mingyu clapped Chan on the back and led him towards his office door. “Same bar with the cute bartender?” He emphasized, his angry gaze falling on you for a second.

Subtle you silently scoffed rolling your eyes, holding your laptop as close to your body as humanly possible.If he didn’t make his distaste towards you obvious by his reaction last night, he surely made it painfully clear just now.

“That’s the one.” Chan nodded, sending you a pitying look, one you didn’t need. You knew you were fucked.

Everyone knew about your painful crush on Mingyu. Everyone had seen you grab the collar of his dark maroon shirt last night and plant a wet alcohol filled kiss against his lips. Everyone had seen the way he reacted, yanking his suit jacket off the back of his chair and walking out of the bar pissed. So, you didn’t need the various pitying looks you were getting since the moment you walked in that morning.

“Alright then I’ll see you then, don’t forget to turn in your proposal by tomorrow night, Jeonghan keeps bugging me about it.”

Chan sighed, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, “shit, I’ll have it done by tomorrow morning.” He said quickly before speed walking back to his cubicle. Leaving you alone to face the problem you had caused.

Mingyu laughed lightly, shaking his head as he shut the door to his office, “I knew he forgot.” He mumbled before straightening his back, the scowl you were used to seeing appeared on his face once again. He walked past you to his desk, taking a seat next to his name plate. You stayed put, looking down at the floor, only counting the tiny dust bunnies that were visible to your eye.

Mingyu cleared his throat, “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

You raised your head pushing yourself off the wall and walked to him. Stopping behind one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Don’t need to, It’s my fault for breaking company policy. I’ll hand in my resignation letter to Jeonghan tonight.” You kept your eyes trained on the skyscraper reflecting through the window behind him. Anything was better than looking at him right now.

He sighed, running a frustrated hand across his face. He pushed himself away from his desk and took a step forward. “I didn’t call you in here to ask you to resign.”

Confused, you tore your eyes from the building behind him and looked at him. The bags under his eyes that had started to form from lack of sleep and overwork were now more prominent than before. It made you wonder if he hadn’t slept last night because of you, but then you remembered the huge project he was currently working on, so you casted that thought aside.

“Oh then...I-umm, why am I here?”

“Do you have any idea the position you put me in last night?” He furrowed his brows, placing a knee down on the chair in front of him. He leaned his forearms against the back of it, closing the distance you purposely kept between the two of you.

You took a step back, scrunching your nose, “I don’t understand. You don’t want me to resign. If I’m not getting penalized then why am I here?” You dropped your arms in defeat. “If you called me in here to tell me you’re not interested in me, you don’t have to. I already know.” You finished swallowing the lump that had formed at the back of your throat.

“That’s the problem.” Mingyu pointed an accusing finger at you before retreating it. “I am interested in you, more than interested in you. I have strong feelings for you and I can’t act on them because I don’t want everyone to think that I favor you, because I do.”

I’m dreaming, you thought pressing the palm of your hand against your heated forehead. You had to be dreaming, life has never been this giving to you, “wait I’m confused...you ran out last night, literally pushed me away, disgusted. Do you have any idea how that felt? I had to sit down and face our co-workers with a fake smile on my face because I didn’t want them to see me cry.”

Mingyu’s face softened, he gripped the back of the chair hard enough for his knuckles to almost turn white. “I know and I’m sorry but if I had stayed then I would’ve kept kissing you. You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to do that.” He dropped his head releasing a shuddering breath. “Every time we stayed here working over time, the only thing I could think about was how easy it’d be if I just leaned over a little more and kissed you. No one would be around, no one would see, it would just be our little secret. But the stupid company policy always seemed to find it’s way into my head and I never let myself cross that boundary.”

“Mingyu w-why are you telling me this now? Even if we have feelings for one another, my job is important to me and I don’t want to risk getting fired because we’re together.” You blinked rapidly, now was not the time to cry. You could cry later in the communal bathroom across the hall, or on the bus ride home, just anywhere but here.

“Well,” Mingyu rounded the corner of the chairs and made his way to you, finally closing the distance. “I talked to Jeonghan -”

“Wait you told him we kissed?” You were sure your eyes were bulging out of their sockets as the realization hit you. Of course, Mingyu wasn’t going to fire you, he was saving himself the burden and having Jeonghan do it for him.

He chuckled, placing a hand against your hip making you jump, “Just how drunk were you last night? Jeonghan was there when it happened. He called me and threatened to fire me for leaving you the way I did.” He whispered, circling his arm around you and pulling you close, making you stumble from the sudden impact. “H’said, fuck company policy and that I was stupid for following it when no one does.”

“Wait are you saying th -”

“Yes we can be together as long as we keep our work and personal lives separate, so, no sex in my office.”

You gasped hitting his chest lightly, this lewd side of Mingyu was one you had never seen before. Or at least you had but in a much more subtle way. “Well of course, we can’t do that. That was never going to be part of the deal.” The thought of him pressing you against his desk after hours sent a thrilling shiver up your spine. You bit your lip, shaking your head. No, not allowed, focus.

“Why not? I’ve slept on the couch here a few times. It's pretty comfortable.” He reassured, hooking his thumb in the belt loops of your dark slacks. “And your ass looks so good in these pants, I literally have to make it my mission to not stare.”

“I’m flattered, I guess. But look around Gyu.” His gaze followed your hand as you waved it around in front of him. “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see -”

He pulled you closer, eloping your body in both of his arms, “so?” He tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing against his lips. You had forgotten how much he liked to tease you.

“So?” You rolled your eyes, “were you not listening to what I was saying everyone can see.” You emphasized, poking his cheek with your index finger.

Mingyu bit his bottom lip trying to suppress his laughter. He forgot how easily flustered you could get, especially when he would say something out of pocket to you. Sure, half of the time you would ignore him, sometimes you would simply roll your eyes, focused on whatever you were working on. Other times he would leave you at a loss for words.

“Frankly, I don’t see the problem. We can just wait until everyone goes home and then give whoever is walking by a free show.” He finished raising his eyebrows suggestively at you.

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away and walked to his door. “I can’t believe you’re already thinking about having sex with me and you haven’t even asked me out on a date or to be your girlfriend.” You pushed his door open and walked out, “the audacity you have Kim Mingyu.”

He felt panic surge through him, his big mouth getting the best of him once again. “Woah woah wait I was getting there, you didn’t give me the chance to ask.” He followed you out the door, trying to keep up with your hasty steps. Who knew you could walk so fast in heels.

Once you were at your cubicle you sat down, placing your laptop on top of your desk, waking it up. “Too late, company policy says we have to keep our work and personal lives separate, guess you’re going to have to wait a while.” You look at the digital clock on your desk, “Five and a half hours to be exact.”

Mingyu threw his head back, frustrated. As much as he enjoyed teasing you, he had forgotten that you were equally as evil if not worse. He had waited to ask you out for more than two years and now that he could, he literally couldn’t wait five and a half hours.

“Friday, after work?” He whispered, covering the side of his mouth with his hand to make it look less suspicious. It wasn’t working.

“What about guys night and that cute bartender?” You smirked, clicking around your computer opening the files you were working on earlier.

Mingyu took a deep breath and grabbed the back of your chair, swinging it around ripping you away from your computer screen. “Fuck guys night honey, I’m taking you home, cooking you the best meal you’ve ever had and then -” He stopped peaking over your cubicle. Everyone that had tuned in to your debacle, quickly scrambled to focus on whatever they were doing before you and Mingyu walked in. He nodded once before leaning down, his lips close to your ear, whispering, “then I’m going to fuck you against my window so everyone can see that you’re finally mine.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning.You put your hand on his chest and leaned in, placing a soft kiss against the shell of his ear. “Kinky, ask me again in five and a half hours.” You gave his cheek a gentle pat before pushing him away, returning your attention to what you were doing.

Mingyu grumbled, shoulders slumped as he dragged himself back to his office. You stifled a laugh, the butterflies you had once felt for him returning.

“You know I heard all of that.” Soonyoung spoke, peeking his head into your cubicle, his eyes wide like he had just seen a ghost, or something utterly disgusting.

Fuck! Mingyu! You whined silently before turning to face your cubicle mate. “I’ll buy you lunch if you pretend like you didn’t hear anything.”

He put a pensive hand on his chin before sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Deal, I suddenly have been overcome with amnesia, whatever happened in the last five minutes I do not remember, that’s only if you promise to also finish revising this project proposal for me.” He waved the large packet of white copy paper in front of you.

You groaned, “that wasn’t part of the deal we just shook on.”

He sucked in air, “I don’t remember that.” He pouted. “I have amnesia, remember.”

“Fuck fine.”

#kpopscape #kdiarynet #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fanfiction #mingyu imagines #mingyu drabbles #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader

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avyssoseleison · 4 years

Note

Funnily enough I was going through a lot of your old fics yesterday for nostalgia reasons and now can't stop thinking high school enemies to lovers deancas ideally with some punk!cas nerd!dean maybe? Fully understand if that prompt doesn't tickle your fancy though

Please enjoy these 3.2k of enemies to homework buddies!

“Winchester.”

Dean will ignore him.

“Hey, Winchester!”

Dean will most definitely ignore him. Just keep on walking. If Novak thinks he can’t hear him, surely he’ll leave him alone. He’ll go bother someone else, and Dean will finally be free of him.

“Winchester!”

Dean hears, but doesn’t listen. He starts humming to himself when there’s suddenly a hand on his shoulder, ripping him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, you assbutt!”

And there he is, of course: Castiel Novak. With his dumb boots and even dumber leather jacket, and, dumbest of all, that small little frown that slowly morphs into a way too pleased smile the longer Dean glares at him.

Christ.

By the time when Novak’s smile turns into a full-blown grin, Dean finally musters up the strength to look away. The soft rustle of tree crowns in the distance reminds him of what a great morning he has been having, and what a perfect day it could have been, had Novak decided to leave him alone. As it is, his day might turn out a bit marred, after all. A bit more normal, perhaps.

“‘Assbut’?” Dean quips, way too late. “What kinda insult is that?”

“What kind of delayed comeback is this?” Novak counters.

“It’s not as delayed as your…” Dean doesn’t really know enough about Novak to be able to insult him in any meaningful way, and what he knows of him, he doesn’t want to use. So, instead, he finishes lamely with, “...development.”

Novak could not look any less impressed, especially because the raise of his eyebrow alone continues their little banter in a manner that clearly suggests that if anyone’s development is delayed, it has to be Dean’s. However, that level of insult is apparently not one Novak deigns to lower himself to, as he continues to look smug while busying himself with lighting a cigarette and blowing out a lungful of smoke with obvious relish.

Dean makes a face and pointedly waves his hand in front of his face. “Smoking’s bad for you,” he simply states, making Novak chuckle lightly.

“So’s a lot of things, if society is to be believed. I am not much of a believer, though, and I do enjoy the small pleasures in life.”

The small, self-satisfied smile Novak shoots him sends a strange feeling through Dean’s body, from his lips down to his very toes, and everything in-between.

Dean swallows. “What do you want, Novak?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Novak takes a drag while trotting along Dean who starts moving again, trying to put some distance between himself and the self-proclaimed anarchist. “I just have a small favor to ask you,” he says, sounding as though whatever he is asking for is actually not that small at all.

“Again?” Dean grumbles, thinking of Novak quickly copying his homework last week, secluded in that small parking lot that no one but Novak and some people in the know ever seem to use, and of what Novak did in return. “I’m not doing you any more favors, man,” Dean scoffs, and stomps on.

Nonetheless, Novak stays hot on his heels.

“Why not?” Novak presses, “I’m not asking for much -- I just need today’s Math homework. I didn’t hear Mr. Singer give us any, but Meg just told me he wanted us to solve like 15 fucking problems, and she didn’t do them either.“

“Of course not.“ Anything else would’ve been shocking enough — if Novak has a bad reputation, Meg Masters‘ is even worse. All kinds of rumors are going around about her, ranging from drug use to prostitution to downright witchcraft. Although Dean cannot confirm nor deny any of the rumors, he is inclined to believe most of them. And Meg Masters herself would probably laughingly accept any accusations -- she is that kind of person. And although Dean cannot help but grudgingly respect her for her attitude, he also resents her for it: and how could he not, when he works so hard to do what is asked of him, and stick to the rules? Yeah, the only way someone like Meg could shock Dean would be to actually do her homework for a change.

“Now, now,“ Novak chides playfully, even if it doesn’t seem like he cares all that much about it. “Meg does her best.“

“Just like you do, huh?“

At that, Novak‘s grin turns darker, a bit more dangerous. “So harsh, Winchester. I think you know better than most how sometimes, things are not as easy as they seem. That circumstances are different for everyone.“

“Yeah, yeah,“ Dean dismisses, with a pang in his chest, though he gets it. Unfortunately, he really does. “Anyway, I won’t give you the homework.“

“Why not?“

“Because why would I? I don’t like you and you only hit me up when you need stuff from me. Besides...“ he begins, then swallows back a proper explanation. “You know why.“

“Oh, I do?“

“You damn well know you do.“

“Hmm, alright.“ Novak takes another drag, unbothered. “Listen, if you give me today’s homework, I’ll make it worth your while.“

“Not interested,“ Dean says, already having a hunch of where this is going.

“No? Could be something similar to last time. You liked last time’s payment, didn’t you?” Novak asks, and it’s just like Dean expected.

Dean avidly fixes his gaze on the school building, still hidden behind some trees, but not too far off anymore. He will be safe there -- Novak would never dream of bothering him where anyone else could see.

“I fucking did not,” he argues, already feeling heat creep into his cheeks.

“Really? I could’ve sworn you did, what with all the blushing and squirming and your pants going--”

“Novak!” Dean barks with a swelling sense of despair. His entire face feels hot by now, and is probably as red as a tomato, “I sure as hell did not enjoy whatever you call ‘payment’ for last week. Besides, I wouldn’t even call it ‘payment’ so much as fucking ‘harassment’.”

There is a beat of silence. Then, “Are you serious?” Novak asks, in an unidentifiable tone of voice.

“‘Harassment’, ‘molestation’, ‘taking advantage’,” Dean recites, enjoying this now that he is gaining momentum. “You call it payment, I call it an affront, and--”

“Is that really what you think, Winchester?” Novak cuts in at the same time he stands still, his eyebrows drawn together in an unfamiliarly serious way. “That I harassed you?”

Dean stops as well. He looks back at Novak, his straight back and straightforward face, the way that he seems not just annoyed by the accusation, as Dean would have expected, but unsettled. As if he were taking Dean’s half-joke seriously, and reconsidering his own course of action.

Guilt wells up in Dean, and he holds his hands up in reassurance. “I didn’t--” he doesn’t know how to actually finish that sentence, so he just leaves it hanging.

There is nothing to say there, not really. What Dean said was half in jest, and half in… half in what he knows anyone else would think of the situation, or should think. It’s what Dean himself should think: that it was unexpected, unwanted, unreciprocated. That his animosity towards Novak just grew over it, that he truly hates him now. That there was no part of Dean that enjoyed any of it, no part of him that longs to do it again.

Novak keeps staring at him, though, reassessing. His stillness is as unnerving as his little smiles and contemplative looks usually are, even if in different ways. Regardless, he seems to come to some sort of conclusion as he takes in Dean’s still figure, the flush in his cheeks and whatever else there is to see, since he suddenly steps forward, closer towards him again.

“Harassment, was it?” Novak says, now with cold fire burning in his eyes that takes away Dean’s breath for just a moment. “Because I do seem to remember that you were the one who not only told me it was okay if I gave you a kiss on the cheek, but turned it into something more. By turning your head, parting your lips, not letting me go. You were the one who slipped me the tongue and kept going and going. You were the one who begged me to do more, kiss you more, touch you more, fu--”

“No!” Dean interrupts him, with burning cheeks and a stomach that has already dropped all the way down. “S-Stop making shit up, Novak. You know I’m not like that -- I’m not like you --, so I’d really appreciate it if you could leave me out of your fantasies. You were the one who harassed me--”

“--I just said--”

“--who pushed me to give him my homework in the first place--”

“--I asked you if it was okay to--”

“--and who made me do something I sure as hell neither enjoyed nor wanna do again.”

“Oh, really?” Novak asked, raising an eyebrow, in what might constitute a challenge or a feeling of false imputation, or both. “So, if I told you I’d love to kiss you again if you let me copy your math homework, you’d tell me no? Would what, cry harassment again if I dared touch so much as your wrist or even came close to you again? Or,” he continues, voice dropping into a darker tone while he does indeed inch closer towards Dean, close enough to touch him, and who remains where he is, rooted to the spot, “would you tell someone about it? Mr. Singer, perhaps? Or the counselor? Hmm, one thing’s for sure, though.” He laughs, but there’s no humor behind it. It sounds pained, even to Dean’s ears, knowing. “You wouldn’t tell your dad, would you? That you made out with a guy, and liked it? That you wouldn’t mind doing it again, given the right circumstances, some good excuse? Such as taking the long way to where you’ve parked your car, past the small parking lot you know where mine is and where I usually hang out? So that, I don’t know, perhaps I might come over when I see you, and all you had to do was bat your long lashes at me, bite your pretty lips, and wait for me to make a move again?”

It feels as if all the air is sucked out of Dean’s lungs. Standing there in front of Novak, feeling the heat of both his words and his body, he feels seen-through, known; and as lacerated and repugnant as an open wound.

Dean wants to draw back into himself, into his safe shell, but he can’t. “You’re ridiculous, man,” is all he can mumble out in return as he twists his gaze away from Novak.

They remain there like this for God knows how long. Dean, looking somewhere between their feet and Novak’s almost heaving chest, and Novak, with his face hidden from Dean’s view, but his hands clenched into fists.

By the time Novak’s hands open again, it feels as though an hour has passed, though it probably were mere minutes.

“Alright,” Novak blows out on a breath, “let me make you a deal. Just so we’re on the same page, and we’re both absolutely clear on what is okay and what might be harassment or anything of the sort.”

Hearing Novak say that word again revives the feelings of guilt in Dean, but he knows he’s made his bed, so now he has to lie in it. So, he swallows and nods, feeling all of his body tense. “What kinda deal?”

“It goes like this: you either refuse to let me copy your homework and I won’t ever touch, much less kiss, you ever again. I’ll leave you alone. Or, you allow me to copy today’s homework at the very least, so Mr. Singer won’t call my foster home again, and you can choose whatever payment you want, as long as it’s somewhat reasonable. Money, cigarettes, beer, anything you want me to do, you name it. As long as you name it. I won’t give you what you’re not explicitly asking for.”

Dean frowns. “What? How is that a deal? It’s either you win or I do, no in-between. I mean, fine by me, but you get nothing out of it, so what gives?”

“It’s not that bad of a deal,“ Novak says, finally flinging his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out.

He gives no further explanation, though, which gets on Dean’s nerves even more. “You suck at coming up with deals, you know that?“

“Not really,“ Novak says, shrugging a little. “As I see it, it‘s win-win for you and win-lose for me. Which, for me, too: is fine. It all depends on what you want.” There’s something strangely soft in the way he is looking at Dean, something almost wistful. “And on whether you’ll actually express it.”

Put on the spot yet not, there isn’t much for Dean to do but nod in acquiescence. He’d like to pretend he still doesn’t get what Novak is going for, but he does, deep down. It’s both an in and an out -- what he was hoping for, but couldn't have asked for. Now he has to ask for what he wants, and if he doesn’t, he won’t get it. And he’s not sure he can. Not when there’s rules and expectations and the shadow of a man larger than Dean, larger than life itself, endlessly looming over him.

“Okay,” Dean says, pinching the bridge of his nose. Novak keeps staring at him in that stiffly intense way of his. “Alright. I mean, it probably would be pretty bad if you turned up without homework again, huh? Last I heard, you got into some pretty dire straits when Mr. Singer called your foster home, right?”

Novak huffs out a sound of amusement, his shoulders sinking in what looks like relief. “You’re well-informed.”

A furious blush threatens to stain Dean’s cheeks again. “It’s just what I heard. People talk. About you. And, uh, everyone else, I guess.”

There it is again, that soft expression. And Dean thinks he might recognize it now, impossible enough: Novak looks fond.

“They do,” Novak agrees, showing no offense at any possible implications of him being the talk of the school, which he most definitely is. “And yes, it was ‘pretty bad’, as you’ve said. I’d much rather not have a repeat performance.”

“Easy way to avoid it.”

“Yes, I’m working on it at the very moment.”

In spite of himself, Dean huffs out a laugh. “I meant doing your own damn homework. I know you’re smart enough to do it, even if you barely show up in class. You ace all the tests even when you weren’t there, so I don’t believe you couldn’t just as well hand in your homework if you fucking wanted to.”

Novak hums in open amusement. “Is that your own observation or people talking again?”

Feeling as though caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Dean just lamely stammers out a, “It’s-- it’s common knowledge, okay?” before setting into motion again.

Novak’s laughter follows him the first few steps, then he is beside him again.

“Who knows, maybe you’re right and I could take care of my own homework. But maybe I like not doing so, and asking certain other people for it instead.”

It’s obvious what -- or rather, who -- he means by that, that Dean is pretty sure his skin will never be anything but pink again. “Oh yeah?” he needles, “You got many people doing your homework? Giving them the same payment, too?”

“No,” Novak replies surprisingly quickly, “there’s only one person, and only one time I offered that type of payment.”

For a minute, they walk in silence as they almost reach the stairs of the school house. There’s few other people around, most of them just entering the building or looking at their phones, unheeding of the pair.

“So, we have a deal?” Novak eventually asks into their waiting silence.

“You can have today’s homework,” Dean relents, holding out on what he knows Novak is actually going for.

“Thank you, Dean,” Novak says with a gummy smile.

The sound of his name stirs Dean him up a bit more, reminding him of the only other time when Novak called him by his first name: when he was crowding Dean up against a wall, removing his glasses, and kissing his cheek so softly that Dean needed more, needed to be closer to this other guy, to this enigma of a person.

“Don’t mention it,” Dean mumbles.

“As for your payment…?” Novak probes, though with his voice in a whisper as they are close enough to other people now that they might otherwise be overheard.

“Don’t know yet,” Dean says, his voice clipped.

“I’m sure you already have something in mind.“ It’s completely uncalled for Novak to say this in such a low and heady way.

“Maybe you do, but I don’t.“ He doesn’t know, he thinks. He can’t, is why. He won’t, he tells himself.

“Dean,” Novak says, using his first name again, as if they were friends or something more, sounding intimate in the most casual way, and that does it.

“Damnit, Novak, I want—“ Dean bursts out.

Novak looks at him in expectation, all of him turned towards Dean, listening.

He won’t, he won’t, he can’t.

Can’t he?

“—time,“ Dean finishes lamely.

Novak pulls a face that clearly says, ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed.’

Which is all the worse.

“Listen, Novak, you… you might be right.“ Dean pulls a face. “I can’t believe I just said that. But yeah, I might have an idea of what I want, what I’d like to have,” he pointedly does not look at the other boy or anything else but straight towards the school. “But you’re also right in that my dad wouldn’t— I can’t--” He swallows, tries to shake the thought out of his head, but it unfortunately stays stuck. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You will?” Novak asks, sounding hopeful.

“Yeah, sure. Maybe.“ He blows out his breath, scrubs a hand through his own hair, and continues, “Might take me some time, though. Maybe a long time. Maybe forever.“ He laughs mirthlessly. “So, today’s homework might actually turn out to be a freebie for you.”

The expression on Novak‘s face is hard to read, but undeniably one he usually does not show in public. For a second there, Dean thinks Novak wants to reach for him: his hand lifts and opens just so, swerving in his direction. Before anything comes off it, though, he drops his hand again, burrows it in his pocket and says, “Take all the time you need, Dean.“

He might have to, Dean thinks. Probably nothing will come of this, not right now, maybe not for as long as he is as young as he is, dependent on his father’s will, bound to him for freedom. Perhaps, though, some other time, in some distant future, or hidden behind some bleachers, he might find a taste of liberation, or the touch of Novak’s lips again.

Dean turns away from the other boy as the school bell rings, the call-back to the present not quite as oppressive with blue eyes and a soft smile still impressed on his mind.

#simpingfortimstoker #miriam writes #destiel #punk!cas #nerd!dean #spn #oooooooh boy this was a pain and a half to write #not because of the prompt itself but because i wrote the story in chunks over a couple of days #and about halfway through the tone suddenly changed so i had to readjust (rewrite) what i already had #and ive been struggling to make this into something that i like #but i actually like how this turned out (and am shocked by its length lmao)#and i hope you like it as well!#funnily enough i usually skip punk cas stuff but when i read your prompt an idea immediately came to mind #and i was like 'yeah lets give this a try!!'#fanfiction

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miamlfy · 4 years

Text

Textbooks and James

A/N: Hi guys, been a while since I posted. I hope you all aren't too upset. This took me longer than expected and I’m not a fan of this fic, so I’m sorry if it’s disappointing. To whoever requested this, I hope you still like it.

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Summary: Needing to study, you take your only opportunity without James to do so.

Warnings: Not proofread, sorry for mistakes. Wolfstar is mentioned.

Word count: 1,7K

Masterlist

Enjoy!

(Not my gif, credit to whoever made it.)

Exam taking was always a nightmare for you. Anxiety always ran through you whenever your professors mentioned an upcoming exam. Normally you would study weeks in advanced and ace it with ease, but ever since you started dating the infamous James Potter, it became rather difficult to get things done around him.

James wanted to be with you at all times, he was a clingy boy. He spent years trying to get you to go on a date with him and now that you’re together, he wasn’t planning on leaving your side. You found his clinginess rather cute but it did become difficult whenever you wanted to get things done, James wanted your undivided attention and every time, you gave in which led you to rarely completing the things you needed done.

Of course getting your homework done together was a must, along with essays—Remus was always there to help. Reading a book or studying was something you haven’t completed since you started dating James. The only times you were able to read or study for an important exam was at night, which was how you were currently spending the only time you had to rest and get decent sleep.

Your notes and textbooks were sprawled out onto your twin bed, you were the last one awake in your dorm. Marlene and Dorcas were fast asleep the minute they entered the room and Lily just had gone to bed after finishing the last few chapters of a muggle book she had been reading.

A dim light was casted, just bright enough for you to read the words on the textbook. Yawns kept escaping your mouth and eyes kept closing every few seconds. You shook yourself to help you stay up, although you’d much rather copy what all the girls were doing right now, you had to study and get it over with. You just hoped you had enough energy to deal with James in the morning.

You were woken up by Lily shaking you and her screaming, “Y/n, you need to get up! We’re already running late!” She yelled.

You immediately shot up and got dressed while checking the time, 08:47. You let out a sigh, you had less than 20 minutes to eat breakfast. You grabbed your notes that covered the floor and packed your bag, not bothering with trying to recall when exactly you fell asleep.

Lily and you sprinted out of the Gryffindor common room and into the Great Hall. The two of your spotted your other two dorm mates and the marauders. You sat yourself on the right seat next to James, the left side belonged to Sirius and Sirius only.

“Good morning, my love, how’d you sleep?” James asked, placing a kiss on your temple and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You let out a groan and grabbed the nearest muffin, stuffing your mouth with it.

“Marlene, why didn’t you wake us up?” Lily questioned, Marlene simply shrugged.

“Y/n and you looked so peaceful and waking the both of you up is a bloody nightmare.” Marlene answered honestly. “Not to mention, last time I tried waking up Y/n, she almost hexed me.”

You shook your head, swallowing bits of muffin before talking. “Now you’re just being dramatic, Marls. I would never do such a thing.” You said, stifling a laugh.

The rest of breakfast was kept in silence, with the occasional of Sirius saying something somewhat incorrect and Remus correcting him. James at times also saying something mildly wrong on purpose to annoy Remus further.

You dragged your feet to your first class of the day, already wishing for the day to be over. While everyone else walked slightly further than you, James stayed behind with you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving them a squeeze with his hand.

“Are you alright, darling? You seem a bit off.” He said, worry taking over him. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine, James. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” He gave you an unsure look but took your word for it. The two of you walked together, being one of the last few students to enter the potions classroom.

Sitting next to Lily, you let out a yawn and rubbed your eyes. You prayed today wasn’t a lecture day, you wouldn’t stay awake if it was. Professor Slughorn usually kept his lectures energetic, but you knew note taking would be a nightmare for you considering your tiredness. Thankfully, today was a brewing day. Lily would be brewing a simple potion and you would be taking the notes of what was happening during the process.

Yawning once again, the two of you began. The potion didn’t take too long to brew, Slughorn giving you a perfection and allowing you to take the rest of the class period to study/work on anything else. You took that opportunity on continuing to study, you focused your eyes on the words written across your textbook. Your handwriting becoming more sloppy, you could care less on how it looked, all what mattered was that you had everything down to help pass your exam.

As more students finished, the class got more and more loud with conversations. You frustrations began to grow, your mind shifting from conversations near you and your textbooks. You felt a presence next to you, immediately you knew who it was by the smell of his cologne. Your eyes shifted from your textbook to James.

“Yes James?” You questioned the boy, who was currently smiling at you like a goof.

He leaned down on the table, prompting his chin on his hand. “My beautiful girlfriend, you should be taking this free time to nap not study.” He said.

You sighed, “I know but I really need to do this and I can always sleep later.” You stood from your chair and closed your books, packing everything into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

The bell rang, allowing students to leave and go to their next classes. James walked beside you while the rest of your friends talked among each other.

“Promise me you won’t overwork yourself, the test is still weeks away. You should be spending your time with me.” He whined. You couldn’t help but giggle at his childish behavior.

“You know how important it is to me and my parents that I pass all my exams.” You said. “And I always spend my times with you, not that I mind.”

James squeezed your hand, “I just don’t want you overworking yourself, last time your nearly past out.”

You frowned a bit at that memory, OWL’s were on every fifth year minds. You were so worried over studying, that you forgot to eat and sleep. Thankfully, Remus was there and spotted your fatigue nature.

“After lunch I’m going to the library for a few hours with Lily and then I’ll meet up with you and the others for dinner.”

James thought about your words for a bit, then he nodded agreeing with you. “Just promise you won’t overwork yourself?

“I promise.”

That promise was not long kept, for the most part. You did finish off your school day in the library and then met up with everyone else afterwards. However, the next day was different. Completing your classes went by fast and you were left with enough free time. James, along with Sirius were at their weekly detention, so you took the opportunity to spend some time at the library.

Remus joined you at hour two, so you took his presence as an opportunity to ask him about DADA. He was always very good at the subject and although you were as well, NEWT level became more of a struggle for you.

“Rem, just please let me cheat off you.” You said with desperation in your voice. You were so close to giving up and dropping out — of course this was your dramatic side speaking.

“I love you lots but I cannot allow that,” he said. “Now, let’s go back and review what you need the most help with.”

You let out a deep sigh, “I need help with everything.”

Remus was with you for about two hours before he got dragged away by Sirius — who managed to leave his detention earlier than James, somehow. You rubbed your eyes and forced them onto your textbook, you were going to get every bit of information one way or another.

After what felt like hours of jamming everything into your brain, you felt yourself grow hungry. Looking around the library you noticed you were one of the few people left inside. Everyone else must have already left for dinner, you stretched your arms out letting out a quiet groan.

“You’re the last one in here, everyone already left.” James’ voice said behind you, his voice making you jump.

“Merlin you scared me!” You exclaimed, putting a hand over your heart. “Yes I know, but I really need to study.”

“What you need is a break and food, when was the last time you ate?” He said with worry.

You didn’t need to respond for him to know the answer. James let out a sigh and began closing your textbooks, ignoring your protests.

“You need to eat and relax, Y/n.” He said sternly. “You can continue tomorrow, tonight you are going to relax.”

You knew there was a low chance of you winning, so you complied and packed your things away. James extended his hand out to you to hold, you gave it a squeeze and followed him out of the library and into the Great Hall. Everyone else was already enjoying the deliciousness of the food.

James began making you a plate, you felt like a child at that moment and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” James asked, who was still plopping food onto your plate and his.

“It’s nothing.” You giggled out.

“Open your mouth.” James said, you furrowed your eyebrows with confusion.

“What?”

“Open.” You obeyed and opened your mouth, feeling silly. James put a spoonful of food into your mouth. Little less confused on this situation, you began chewing your food.

Sirius snorted, “James she’s not a child, she can feed herself.”

James turned his attention to Sirius, “You’re just jealous because it’s not you I’m feeding.” James put another spoonful of food into your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Remus could you feed me?” Sirius asked his boyfriend, giving him a puppy eye stare.

“Ha! You wish!”

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #James Potter #james potter x y/n #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #Lily Evans #hp marauders #harry potter x reader #Harry Potter

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kingleedo · 4 years

Text

Leedo || Judas

[ *drum roll* I FINALLY DID IT. This is a lowkey alternate version to my previous prompt about Leedo rejecting the reader. But this one is long. LIKE REALLY LONG. But I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. ]

Genre : University AU

Word Count : 3779

Triggers/Warnings: Swearing, mention of alcohol, alcohol use. [ if I didn’t mention anything that might be triggering, let me know ]

You were sitting at a bar with your friend. It was a Saturday night and you went out for a few drinks. It was also a good chance to talk about whatever happened during the whole week. You studied at the same university but your majors were different. So you’d usually share some small gossips while having a few beers.

Your friend recently got together with a boy who was one year younger than both of you, so most of your recent chats consisted of them talking about their new boyfriend.

“So there’s this guy, Geonhak…” Your friend chirped. “He is Youngjo’s friend and he is in the same major as you.”

“Is he the new guy everybody is talking about?” You raised an eyebrow, as you looked at your friend.

“He is. Youngjo says that most of the stuff people say isn’t true. But I think he says that because they are friends.”

“Is he single?” You asked as you took a sip of your beer.

“Don’t even try. He is either one of those players or a total loner. I heard a rumor someone broke his heart in the past and now he has terrible trust issues.”

“But that makes everything even more interesting. Give me a few months, the boy will be on his knees, begging me to love him back.”

***

As you walked toward your class, you noticed a familiar figure. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a beige knitted sweater that fell loose. You wondered how he could wear something that simple and still look like a model that stepped right from the cover of a fashion magazine. Suddenly, you noticed something fall from his leather folder and you did not hesitate to pick it up.

“You dropped this.” You handed him a textbook and offered him a sweet smile. This wasn’t like you, but you were on a mission to find out what the boy liked and how he reacted to specific signs of affection.

“Thanks.” He took the notebook, immediately turning around and walking away. You were taken aback but didn’t expect anything else. Perhaps, the rumors were true.

“Thanks...” You rolled your eyes as you repeated what he just said, mocking him in your head. For better or worse he was already far enough not to hear you. You clicked your tongue and went to your class.

From this moment for the few next months, it was you trying to initiate a conversation with Geonhak. Some days you’d be extremely sweet towards him, while other days you acted like you didn’t care. Your friends didn’t understand the fun in your game, but you didn’t care. As long as he was the only one falling in love, you were fine.

A few months passed by. You were still deep in your “Winning Geonhak over” game. Somehow you felt tired, as he wasn’t an easy nut to crack, but you didn’t want to stop halfway. Last week you noticed him staring at you, but when you winked at him, you could swear to God, he turned red and looked down at his plate. That was a big leap forward, but you still had a long road ahead.

One day you asked your friend if they could convince their boyfriend to ask Geonhak to tag along with the three of you. But Youngjo ruined everything by calling it a double date. As soon as Geonhak heard the word “date”, he was done. However, you thought it was for the best. After all, you didn’t want him to think that you were in love with him or something. You also noted to yourself that asking Youngjo for help was just as helpful as asking an art major to help you with your chemistry homework.

***

It was Friday and once again you had a free hour between your classes, so you were just chilling with some of your friends at the cafeteria. Seoho was watching origami videos as he tried to copy different figures and you just watched him. You were bored, but not that bored to start making animals out of paper. You were ready to let out a loud groan when you saw a door to the cafeteria open and a blond head protrude through it. At first, you didn’t even recognize him, but the moment he walked closer you nearly gasped. Seoho noticed the change in your expression and laughed. He then pushed your side with his elbow, almost making you fall off your chair. Luckily, you managed to hold the balance. You straightened up and glued your smug smirk to Geonhak. Blond complimented him well. You thought to yourself.

The boy never failed to look amazing. The collar of his black shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his neck and collarbones. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, exposing his strong arms. He paired the shirt with a pair of grey, ripped jeans that hugged his thighs just perfectly. The moment he walked in, all eyes were on him. He was just that hot. Some girls were whispering to one another, probably spazzing about how they wished he was their boyfriend. Even guys were jealous of him. Some envied the body he had, some probably had a crush on him as well. You couldn’t blame them. Sometimes you wondered if you started catching feelings for him, after all, that was all Seoho ever talked about. He was teasing you a lot, but you always denied it. You said you were the one playing Geonhak and not the other way around.

You rested your chin on your hand, still watching Geonhak from afar. You didn’t care if he noticed, as that was exactly what you wanted. You were waiting for him to notice your stare so that you could attack. But the moment you caught his stare on you was when he was two feet away. The corner of his lips was slightly raised and you scored a point to yourself. You knew he couldn’t resist you, he was just too cool to admit it or show it. But you knew that he can’t control his body the way he wanted.

As he stopped next to your table, your smirk only grew bigger. You stared him down from head to toes and licked the corner of your lips, making sure he noticed every movement of yours.

“Ah, Geonhak! Hello!” Seoho chirped as he flailed his arms towards Geonhak, almost hitting your head. You turned your head to Seoho, your eyebrows raised as you gave him a questioning look. Now since when did they know each other. You thought Geonhak hanged out only with Youngjo and his other friend, Dongju.

“Right…” Seoho chuckled. “I met Geonhak a few days ago in the library, he was making all these cool origami figures. So I asked him if he could meet me during my break and teach me. Thank you once again.” Seoho smiled wide, his eyes turning into the adorable crescent moons. You sat there shocked, but soon you pulled yourself together.

Your smirk disappeared but your eyes were still glued to Geonhak. He sat right in front of you and you wondered why didn’t he sit next to or in front of Seoho. But you couldn’t complain.

You put both your elbows on the table, holding your hands together, intertwining your fingers, as you put your chin on them. Your eyes were digging holes in Geonhak’s face, but he tried to ignore you. His body was slightly turned towards Seoho, but you knew he could still see you with his peripheral view. A few minutes passed and he still didn’t turn his head towards you, not even a bit. All of his attention was focused on Seoho, as they made their stupid paper duckies. Seoho was giggling like a girl in love and you couldn’t help, but force a gag in your fist.

Spending time with the origami enthusiasts didn’t sound exciting, but now that Geonhak was sitting right in front of you, there was no way you could leave. You needed to make the most of it. You bit your bottom lip as you thought of a way to get his attention. Suddenly Seoho jumped up, causing both you and Geonhak to look up at him.

“I’ll be right back.” He smiled and ran off.

“I swear to God if it’s one of his little, stupid plans...” You cursed under your breath and shook your head.

“Aren’t you the only one with little, stupid plans here?” You heard a low voice and you jerked your head toward the source.

“What is this supposed to mean?” You moved your head even closer to him, puckering your lips a little. Finally, he scooped in his seat and turned his whole body towards you. His face was so close that if he leaned in a little closer, you could easily kiss him. You could smell his cologne and for a second you forgot what you were thinking about. The mixture of the sweet and spicy scent simply lured you in.

“You know what it means. Aren’t you the best in your major… You must be smart, huh.” He chuckled.

Woah, a chuckle from this man kicked you right in the feels and you moved away. For a moment you felt like you were the prey of his. But you couldn’t let him take control of the game you created, so you mentally kicked yourself and straightened up. You gave him another daring look, as your tongue ran against your upper teeth. The look must have made him uncomfortable, as he let out a forced cough and looked down. The controller was back in your hands, so you continued the attack.

“So you know a lot about me… Been asking around?” You run your thumb against your lips and your smirk grew bigger. Geonhak still couldn’t look you in the eyes and you wondered where did the cool guy go all of a sudden.

“There’s not much to know.” After a short pause, he stared back at you. “Don’t think too good of yourself, it’s unattractive.”

You were offended, but you didn’t show it. Who does he think he is? Telling something like this when he doesn’t even know you. A part of you wanted to slap him, but you remained calm and collected. There was no way you could let him win.

“Honey darling, now who is the one thinking too good of themselves. Mr. Kim Geonhak, the one who is too cool to befriend people. Mr. Kim Geonhak is so tough and cool, he is untouchable. You aren’t even allowed to mention his name.” You teased him with a smile on your face. These were the things that were spread like a disease all around the campus.

“Are you jealous they all want me and not you?” He leaned in closer, taking you by surprise and making you move a little back. But you were quick to get back at him.

“And who told you I want them to want me?” You leaned just as close, leaving almost no space between your faces. You unintentionally bit your lip again, as a strong desire to kiss his lips filled your body.

“You guys, I swear to God!” You heard an annoyingly familiar voice and you wanted to kick him to the moon. Why does he always appear at the wrong time? “Y/N, I leave you for a minute and you’re already sucking on his face.” Seoho laughed out loud, as he sat down at his spot.

“Eww, I would never!” You mimicked, but as soon as you caught Geonhak’s gaze, you blew him a little kiss.

***

A few more months passed. Geonhak was hanging out with your friend group more and more. Now that he knew both Youngjo and Seoho, you saw him around more often. And even though he was closer with the boys, he was still cold towards you. There was a time when you saw some girl tagging along with him and you wondered if he finally got himself a girlfriend or was it another admirer of his hot ass.

The thought of him dating someone made your blood boil. As much as you tried to prevent yourself from catching feelings, you couldn’t help it. The constant teasing and bickering made you want to get to know him more. You simply couldn’t get enough of him. Even though sometimes his words offended or hurt you, you wanted more of this. This was the kind of bad romance that was so bad it was good.

You hurried to the cafeteria. Hwanwoong was throwing a frat party and you were in charge of helping him prepare for it. You knew that Seoho and some other friends were already there. You were the only one running late because your professor decided to interrogate you about your last presentation.

As you rushed through the hallways, you felt someone grab your hand. The moment you turned your head to look at the one who dares to do it, your heart stopped beating for a moment.

“Seoho told me you were running late, too. I wondered if I’d catch you halfway.” Geonhak grinned, as he let go of your hand.

“Oh yeah? Remind me to kill that boy!” You groaned. But not because you were mad at Seoho, but because you didn’t want Geonhak to let go of your hand.

“The last one buys drinks!” He slapped your shoulder and jumped in front of you. The last thing you knew before he ran off, was him winking at you. You let out another groan and ran after him.

“Kim Geonhak, I swear to hell!” You weren’t a sporty one, but having the chance to win over him gave you enough adrenaline to run as fast as possible.

You ran through the hallways, with Geonhak sometimes stopping to check up on how far behind you were. Only for you to catch up to him, giving him a playful poke or a slap on his thigh. You were tired and you wished the cafeteria was closer, but it was delightful to hear him laugh so wholeheartedly.

Finally, you made it to the cafeteria; and before you both could fall through the door, Geonhak grabbed both of your hands and pulled you closer to himself.

“They won’t understand if we barge in like this.” He smirked, as he tried to catch his breath.

“Who the fuck cares what they think or what they don’t understand.” You freed your arms and pushed him to the side. As he tried to catch his balance not to fall, you opened the cafeteria door and ran towards your friends. Once you touched the table, you stick out your tongue and laughed. You ignored the judging looks the rest gave you.

Geonhak approached you as if nothing ever happened, sitting next to Seoho. You rolled your eyes and walked up to him. You bent down from behind, as you put both your hands on his arms to support your weight. Still ignoring the weird glares, you whispered into his ear.

“The drinks are on you, babe.” You resisted the urge to bite his ear, as you straightened up and walked to sit next to Hwanwoong.

“Now what the hell were you two doing?” Hwanwoong leaned in closer to you with a huge grin on his face, only to have his face pushed away. You looked over at Geonhak and smirked.

“You’re too young to know.” The loud gasp leaving Hwanwoong’s mouth didn’t surprise you. But Geonhak’s eye roll amused you. You winked at him, as Seoho shushed you all so that he could start sharing his ideas.

***

You were leaning against the kitchen counter as you watched the people in the living room. Some were dancing, some were drinking, while others played some games. Everyone seemed to have a lot of fun, but you didn’t share the vibe. You bit down on your cup that was filled with whatever Hwanwoong mixed in. Usually, you were the life of the party, but this evening you simply couldn’t bring yourself to do any of the frat party activities.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s buzzin’?” Suddenly you got approached by a wild Keonhee. He playfully bumped your hip and chuckled.

“Surely not me…” You laughed, as you twirled your cup and looked at the alcohol in it.

“How come!! You guys worked your asses off to make this party happen and look how great it is! You should be out there, dancing on the table.”

“I guess. But don’t feel like it for some reason.” You looked up at him and shrugged your shoulders.

“Did anything happen? Do you want me to find Seoho?” He tilted his head. Everyone knew that Seoho was your best friend and he was the one who was able to lift your mood in seconds. But this time you weren’t sure if even Lee Seoho could help you. You shook your head and rested your hand on Keonhee’s arm.

“There’s no need. I’m okay. Guess just need to drink more.” You forced a smile, but you knew you weren’t completely okay. You saw Geonhak an hour ago, talking to some girl and giggling like a girl in love. You tried to ignore it, but deep down you were both jealous and angry. He never acted that way around you. You wondered what was so special about her that made him giggle like this.

“Oh by the way…” Keonhee’s voice brought you back from the world of your sorrow. “Geonhak was looking for you. I think he is upstairs.” He nodded his head.

“Geonhak?” Your eyes widened as you couldn’t believe that Keonhee mentioned his name.

“Uhmm!” Keonhee nodded again. You hid your excitement, even though inside your heart was beating with a rapid speed and you felt like jumping in your spot. Yet you didn’t know what was the reason he was looking for you. Maybe it was another one of his stupid games.

You left your drink on the counter and made your way to the stairs. You asked some girl on your way if she saw Geonhak, luckily it wasn’t the one you saw him with before. But then your heart froze as you were afraid you might catch them together again.

As you walked past all the people, checking some of the rooms at your own risk, you couldn’t find the boy anywhere. If Keonhee tricked you just to pull a prank on you, he was dead. You passed the bathroom, thinking that it was a dumb idea. But then you took a step back and decided to give it a try. As you reached for the doorknob, the door flew open and you saw no one else, but Geonhak himself.

“Hey, Y/N… Are you perving on me?” He chuckled. You rolled your eyes and pushed him back into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

“What if I am? What you gonna do?” You approached him, cornering him, as his butt pressed against the sink. You couldn’t resist, it felt good to be in control. Even though he was taller, you were the one who had him under control. You placed your hands on the sink, framing him in the spot, as you waited for his answer.

He looked down at you, clicking his tongue. The next thing you know, his arms are on your waist. It took him a swift movement to lift you and place you on the sink. Your back against the mirror. His strong arms moved down to your thighs and he leaned in closer.

“I don’t have to do anything. You did everything yourself.” He smirked.

“What is this supposed to mean?” You crossed the arms on your chest and stared at him.

“You should quit playing, Y/N. Everybody knows you have a crush on me.” He licked his lip and winked at you.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe the audacity.” You scoffed.

“So you gonna keep on denying it even though it’s so obvious?” He chuckled, moving one of his hands up your thigh. You froze in your spot and bit your lip. You cupped his face and moved in closer, looking at his lips. Only to press a finger against them and pushing him a bit away.

“I would never have a crush on someone like you. You’re full of yourself.” You chuckled, as you tried to free from his embrace. But he was stronger. He lightly pushed you against the mirror again, forcing your legs to spread, so that he could stand in between them and move closer.

“How unfortunate.” He shook his head, a smug smirk not leaving his face. “I thought we could be a cute campus couple. But if you don’t like me, I might as well ask Yoona out.” He teased. You gasped for air but you were hesitant as to what you should do next. He might be playing you and you couldn’t let him win.

“Us? A couple? What the… Do you like me?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I do... “ He nodded. “At first I thought you were weird. Playing your stupid game, making me fall for you. I thought it could never work, so I ignored it. But as time passed by I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” You sat there watching him in shock. You honestly couldn’t tell if it was an act and a part of some prank or if he was genuine. You slowly reached out to him, moving his hair from his forehead with your hand and pressing your palm against it.

“What are you doing?” He blinked.

“Checking if you have a fucking fever, Kim Geonhak.” You groaned.

“A fucking fever?!” He groaned back. You saw a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes and suddenly you felt bad. You cursed yourself in your head, as you didn’t know how to fix the situation at this moment. Here he was, the boy you liked, confessing to you that he liked you. And you turned it into a dumb joke. You bit your lip and cupped his face, moving closer to him, so that you could kiss his lips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, as his strong arms found their way around yours. The kiss didn’t last long, but it was gentle. As if you tried to apologize with this one.

“Still won’t admit you like me?” He teased again, as he moved away from a kiss.

“I do, I do! Now shut up and kiss me again.” You chuckled, as you pulled him into another kiss.

#oneus scenarios #leedo scenario #leedo imagine #leedo x reader #university au #writing #the ending feels rushed but if i didnt end it there it would go on for another 3k words #hahahahah #i could bicker with this bish forever #oneus fiction #oneus ff #kim geonhak scenario #geonhak scenario

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vrednic · 4 years

Text

favors | collateral damage (pt.3)

Teen Wolf x Vampire Diaries AU

Prompt: Teen Wolf, but with a twist. Scott McCall has a twin sister… and she falls in love with Derek Hale.

Summary: Derek finds himself in trouble, and Scott is nowhere to be found. Will Serena be the one to save the day?

Word Count: 3,026

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoy part 3! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading :)

*PART ONE*

*PART TWO*

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

Two weeks had passed since my first full moon. Scott and I still weren’t on speaking terms, and we both seemed to prefer it that way. On school days, he’d leave the house early to avoid running into me. We didn’t have any classes together, so that made it easy to stay out of each other’s way at school. He had lacrosse practice most days, and they usually ran late, so by the time he got home, I was already in bed. He had also made things official with Allison, so naturally she consumed every other spare second of his life. Part of me felt immense relief because I was able to delay the inevitable confrontation that we would have to have at some point. However, the other part of me also longed for her best friend. I wanted to blame the full moon for the harsh words I said and the dismissive manner that I treated him, but I couldn’t. It was all me.

Scott was the “It” boy when it came to the supernatural. Someway, somehow, he always found himself in the middle of whatever supernatural crisis threatened Beacon Hills. He was a reliable friend and a fantastic leader in-the-making. I recognized that Scott now held the responsibility to save and protect those who were oblivious to our world, as well as those who were a part of it, but my jealousy obstructed all rational thought. I wanted my brother to be there for me the way he was there for complete strangers; the way he meddled in situations that didn’t even concern him. When he didn’t show up the one time I needed him, the disappointment was simply too much to bear.

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

I was sitting in biology, filling in the bubble for the second to last question of the test we were taking. The room was completely silent except for the swift sound of pencil on paper. I looked up at the clock above the chalkboard, and the hands indicated that there were forty-five minutes remaining in class. I flipped back through the booklet and revised all of my answers. When I was content with all of my responses, I pushed up from my desk and walked towards the front to turn in my test. As I neared the front of the classroom, the smell of blood invaded my nostrils. The scent was too faint to be coming from within the room, so that meant that its source was somewhere on the other side of the classroom door. I finally reached the teacher’s desk and placed my booklet on top of the thin pile of completed tests that were already there. I grabbed a copy of tonight’s homework located on the podium next to the desk, and made my way back to my seat.

As I tucked the homework sheet into my biology notebook, my supernatural hearing picked up the sound of two distinct voices coming from the hallway.

“Where’s Scott McCall?” asked the first voice.

The second person shut their locker, the sound of metal on metal ringing in my ears. They spoke gruffly. “Why should I tell you?”

“Because I asked you politely, and I only do that once.” This time I was able to identify the first voice immediately. It was Derek.

“Hm. Okay, tough guy,” responded the second voice. It was low and laced with arrogance, just like Jackson’s. “How about I help you find him if you tell me what you’re selling him?

There was a pause. Then, “Well? What is it? Is it Dianabol? HGH?”

“Steroids?” responded Derek, his tone unimpressed.

“No, Girl Scout cookies,” scoffed Jackson. “What the hell do you think I’m talking about? Oh, and, by the way, whatever it is that you’re selling, I’d probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked.”

There were a few counts of silence. I closed my eyes and focused my hearing, not wanting to miss a single word.

“I’ll find him myself,” said Derek at last.

“No, we’re not done here!” growled Jackson. There was a sound of movement, and then I heard a body slam up against the lockers. I heard Jackson’s soft groans of discomfort as Derek walked away, his feet dragging slightly as he did.

I knew that it was none of my business, but curiosity got the best of me. I got up from my seat and walked swiftly, but subtly, towards the teacher’s desk.

“Can I use the bathroom?”

Mrs. Grey stopped typing at her computer long enough to peer up at me through her glasses. “Sure, just take the--”

“Great, thanks!” I said, wasting no time to rush out into the hall. Jackson was leaning against a row of lockers on the opposite side of the hall, clutching the back of his neck. I smelled blood on him, but the scent didn’t match up with the one from earlier. We made eye contact for just a moment.

“What the hell are you looking at?” he snapped at me.

I shrugged.

I looked down both ends of the hall, but Derek was already gone. Luckily for me, he left a trail of blood in his wake. I followed the scent past the double doors that led to the soccer and lacrosse fields. I walked onto the middle of the grass and scanned my surroundings. At first glance, both fields seemed empty, but the scent was still present. The only problem was that I could no longer pinpoint which direction it was coming from. The wind had picked up, so now the scent seemed to be coming from everywhere. I decided to move my search onto the perimeter of the field. I checked under the bleachers, by the concession stands, and in the bathrooms, but there was still no sign of Derek. I let out a sigh of frustration and began walking back to the school.

I stopped mid stride when I thought I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I turned, and my breath caught in my throat. Derek was slumped against the side of the storage shed, thick black blood dripping down his left arm. There was a pool of it right beside him growing by the minute. His face was pale and slicked with sweat, and there were dark grey bags under his eyes. If I didn’t know he was a werewolf with supernatural healing abilities, I’d probably think he was dead. I ran over to him and crouched down to his eye level. His eyes found mine; they were no longer cold, but pleading.

“Scott,” he mumbled. “Find Scott.”

I ignored him and instead examined the bullet wound in his arm. The bullet itself seemed to have melted into his skin, glowing a sickly silver-green color. The area around it was swollen and his veins were turning black, a clear sign of a fast-spreading infection.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” I told him matter-of-factly. “Whatever it is you were shot with, it doesn’t look good. I need to get you someplace safe so we can find a way to fix this.”

“You need to find Scott,” he repeated, breathless.

“I’ll find Scott,” I assured him. “But after I get you out of here. There’s no way I’m leaving for dead here.”

He looked up at me with those beautiful, tired eyes. He knew there was no point in protesting, so he mobilized every ounce of strength within him and tried to slide up to a standing position. I came over next to him, positioning his good arm around my shoulders, wrapped my arm around his torso, and attempted to begin walking. We made it a few steps before I felt him leaning out of my grasp. I stopped and gazed up at him.

“Okay, big guy. I know I’m a werewolf and all, but I’m still only 5’4. You’re almost an entire foot taller than me, so I’m gonna need you to help me out as much as you can.”

He nodded and we resumed walking. I led him across the field into the student parking lot. I found my car in the maze of vehicles and unlocked the passenger side door. As soon as Derek eased into the seat, I shut the door and came around to the other side. I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot onto the road, heading towards Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. If we were lucky, traffic would be light at this hour, and we’d arrive in a matter of minutes. Derek looked around alarmingly and reached for the steering wheel. I stomped on the brake to stop us from veering into oncoming traffic.

“Are you crazy?” I screamed at him. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“You can’t take me to the hospital. Anything they give me could potentially speed up the infection and kill me,” he said. He sounded exhausted, but his tone was firm nonetheless. “That, and the Argents are probably looking for me. I’m sure they’d love to finish me off before the infection gets the chance to.”

I blew out a sigh. “Where am I supposed to take you, then?”

“The animal clinic. Hopefully Deaton hasn’t left for the day. Maybe he knows about something that’ll help.”

I did as I was told and quickly made a U-turn in the opposite direction. I drove frantically, stealing glances at Derek here and there to make sure he was still breathing. His eyes remained closed the entire way, but I found comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

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

Once we arrived at the clinic, my heart sunk. Deaton’s car wasn’t in the lot, which meant we were alone and running out of time. I retrieved the spare key from behind the dumpster and hauled Derek inside, leading him to one of the nearest chairs so he could sit while I called Scott. I patted my back pocket for my phone, but it wasn’t there. I ran out to my car and searched the floor and seats for its location, but it was futile. I must have dropped it in the field while I was carrying Derek to my car. I sprinted back inside, where Derek was clutching his arm in agony. I brushed the hair from his forehead gently, which caused him to open his eyes.

“I lost my phone,” I admitted nervously. “Do you have yours?”

He shook his head. “I lost it last night after I was shot.”

Great, just great.

I stopped for a moment to collect myself. After my moment was up, I left the room to find Deaton’s office. I turned on the light and waited a moment so my eyes could adjust. When they did, I found the office phone sitting right by his computer. I picked up the phone and dialed Scott’s number. It rang for several seconds, and just when I thought the voicemail was going to cut the call short, I heard someone pick up on the other end.

“Hey, Doc,” Scott answered. “Is everything okay?”

“Scott,” I said. “You need to get to the animal clinic now. Derek’s dying.”

There was a momentary pause of confusion. “Serena? Why are you calling me from the clinic? What’s going on?”

I walked back over to Derek and handed him the phone. “It’s Scott.”

“Listen to me carefully,” said Derek. “You need to get me the bullet, or I’m as good as dead.”

“What are you talking about? What bullet?” I heard Scott say.

I paced around the room, trying to keep my anxiety in check. I wasn’t entirely sure why I felt so affected. It’s not like Derek and I were friends. So why did the thought of him dying suddenly seem so unbearable? I could no longer stand to look at Derek. The infection was running its course, eating him from the inside out. He had begun to resemble a rotting corpse. I turned my back to him and focused my attention to the desolate road outside the window, trying to flush out any and all thoughts of death from my mind. I bit my lip, hoping that Scott would walk through the door any second now and save the day, just like he always did.

“Last night when I was looking for Peter… the Argents were there,” Derek explained. “Kate shot me with a bullet laced with wolfsbane. It’s causing some sort of infection that’ll kill me once it reaches my heart. That bullet is the only antidote.”

“Okay, I’m on it. But, uh, do you happen to know what it looks like?” asked Scott.

Derek didn’t reply. I turned around just as he fell sideways onto the floor. The phone slid out of his grasp and across the room. I heard Scott begin to panic over the line.

“Scott, hurry!” I yelled, loud enough so he could hear.

I dropped down on my knees next to Derek and gently patted him on the cheek, urging him to wake up, but he remained unconscious. I pressed my ear against his chest, listening for his heartbeat, but I heard nothing but silence. My own heart hammered in my ribcage and tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

“You’re not dying on me, you bastard,” I whispered, wiping away the tears that had managed to escape from the corner of my eyes.

I placed the heel of my hand in the center of his chest and began doing chest compressions. After thirty compressions, I lowered my lips down onto his, giving him two rescue breaths. I was surprised by how soft and warm his lips felt against mine. I continued administering steady compressions, but there was no sign of resuscitation.

I stopped and stared at his lifeless body. I refused to let him fade away just like that, but I had no idea what else to do. Scott would have figured something out; he always did. But I wasn’t Scott.

I felt so small, so useless.

So defeated.

Derek jerked abruptly, gasping for air. His eyes fluttered open and scanned the room until they met mine. I flashed a small smile and gave his hand a small squeeze of reassurance. I helped him up to a sitting position on the floor.

He tipped his head back against the wall and gave a low groan. “I know you thought you lost me there for a minute, but trust me. I don’t go so easily.”

I managed a soft laugh. “I know.”

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

What seemed like an eternity later, Scott finally strolled through the front door of the clinic with Stiles in tow, holding a small golden bullet in his hand. He crouched down next to Derek, who took the bullet immediately and screwed off the tip to release its contents. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and lit the wolfsbane on fire. Ignited, it emitted a dark blue smoke, which irritated my nasal passages. I set my discomfort aside and focused my attention on Derek, who gathered the ashes into his hand and rubbed them onto his wound. He let out a sharp roar of pain that lasted several seconds, but he healed almost instantaneously. I let out an audible sigh of relief which seemed to go unnoticed by all the boys in the room.

Scott extended his hand and helped Derek up. He still looked a little worse for wear, but the rosy hue of his cheeks was starting to return. The eyebags were gone, leaving behind the olive green eyes that were once again fixed into a hard stare.

“Glad you’re okay, man. I’ll see you around,” Scott told Derek.

Stiles mumbled under his breath. “Hopefully not anytime soon.”

Derek shook Scott’s hand firmly-- an expression of silent gratitude.

Scott and Stiles walked past me toward the front door. Just when I thought Scott was about to walk out, he turned and walked back, stopping in front of me. He gave me a bear hug and kissed my right temple.

“I’ll see you at home.” He pulled away and walked outside to Stiles’ Jeep. I was about to walk out myself when I heard Derek call my name. I whipped my head around to face him and found him looking at me with those sharp, penetrating eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face.

“Why did you do it?” He asked me softly.

“Do what?” But I knew exactly what he meant.

“Save me.”

I felt my pulse quicken and my cheeks heat up. I looked down at my feet and cleared my throat. I hated the thought of potentially stumbling over my words after one small sign of attention from Derek Hale. After a few counts I finally mustered up the courage to look up again. He was still staring.

“I never got the chance to say thank you,” I told him. “For risking your life on the night of my first full moon. You saved me.”

He took this into consideration. “Well, I didn’t do it--”

“For me?” I asked. “I know.” I recognized deep down why Derek did what he did that night, but it hurt much more to admit it out loud. “I know that you did it for Scott, and that’s okay. I know his alliance is important to you.”

He opened his mouth to protest. “That’s not what I was--”

I suddenly felt hyper aware of how ridiculous I sounded trying to explain myself to him. The warm, fuzzy feeling of attraction was gone. Instead, it was replaced by a hollow emptiness and a fiery desire to get the hell away from here-- from him.

“A life for a life, Derek,” I stated bluntly. “You saved my life, and now I’ve saved yours. Don’t read too much into it. I was simply returning the favor.”

Without so much as a goodbye, I turned on my heel and walked out into the cold autumn night. Every fiber of my body wanted to look back, to fetch for some sort of reaction, but I couldn’t go down that path. Not with Derek. I knew better than that.

I needed to be better than that.

TAGS

@broco8

@slytherinrising

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pandemilkbread · 4 years

Text

nine days // bakugo katsuki

author’s note: here is the sequel to paubaya! it can be read as a stand alone fic, but it’ll feel better once you read the first one.

please enjoy ♡ please leave a like or comment if you enjoyed it,, it’ll mean alot aaaaa. also, beware. this is pretty long!

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛsᴜᴋɪ

nine days. (angst!fic) part 1

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: It took eight, just eight days to fall in love with you; and as dense as Bakugo was, it’ll take him a lifetime (or two) to admit it.

The idea of love has always been a difficult subject to comprehend.

And to a young boy at the tender age of four, whose typical acts of love revolved on beating the crap out of anyone who dared to mess with him (or his friends, though he’d rather not call them that), the subject was more troublesome to speak out loud.

Which was quite contrary to the Bakugo household persona that radiated pure noise throughout the whole course of the day, a feat their neighbor would love to refute if they were able to.

(how a detached and sound proof home such as theirs could release that much clamor, they hardly knew.)

However as loud as the Bakugos were, it’s a no-brainer to realize how quiet they became in regard to their own feelings. The eccentric family breathed the words “show don’t tell” like a mantra; the essence of touch being the utmost way of showing affection—something Bakugo Katsuki never truly understood until one Saturday afternoon.

Bakugo loved his quirk. His favorite part? Not one single part, but a bunch load of favorites.

Blasting shit into smithereens.

Screams of wow! and cool! from his followers.

(”the imaginary people in his head, who continually shower him with praise.” not that he’d admit it.)

The sizzle of sweat on his fingers.

…And exactly everything else that buffed up his currently fragile ego.

The worst part?

The smell of burnt cloth that followed his usual fits of excitement.

The lukewarm water plummeting from the ceiling sprinklers.

…Most especially the whack that vibrated through his skull when his mother found out his only son almost managed to burn down the whole kitchen.

He took it personally, very personally. What happened? An accident! The All Might segment thrilled him to the point of attempting a somersault, one that he succeeded in doing! Was it his fault a measly floor couldn’t handle his greatness? Yet, how does his crappy mom reward him for this feat— a full throttle to the head.

“Katsuki,” his father muttered, rousing him from his thoughts. The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, forcing him to scrunch his nose in disgust. Was he so weak to need a dab of a stupid medical solution to—

“You could have gotten hurt. Don’t be stubborn.” He sighed. “Your mom was very worried.”

Bakugo grunted. ‘A pissy way of showing it!’ He’d retaliate, but the downcast glint in his father’s eyes stopped him. He was clearly worried for his son’s wellbeing.

“...Could’ve said so.” He sputtered out. (unwillingly, of course.)

“Sometimes you have to look past words to truly understand how someone is feeling, Katsuki.” A small grin perched on Masaru’s face. “People love differently. You just need to spot how.”

ii.

“I like you! Can we please start seeing each other?”

“Hah? Who the fuck are you?”

One tear, two tears, three tears. With that, the girl ran, and down the middle school staircase she went.

Bakugo hardly understood why he was invited to the rooftop in the first place. No. He knew a confession would take place, that was obvious. All thanks to his fellow female classmates who couldn’t stop gossiping about it. One more ‘oh God! she’s going to confess to Bakugo-san later!’ and he’d burst, literally.

No. He couldn’t grasp the whole idea of confessing your love to a stranger. Bakugo knew nothing of the teary-eyed student, except she was a crybaby. Besides, it irritated him to the point of seething. Why confess your love only to run out halfway when things go sour?

It wasted his time. Time he could have spent training, studying, doing something important.

Don’t misunderstand. Bakugo was not a cruel person, he never was. Just one with below par conversational skills. He wanted to know the reasons, not disregard her feelings. He wanted to understand the why’s and what’s of the equation; the basis of what directed her feelings onto him.

But, he would never accept her proposition, even if she managed to spur out a million reasons. Bakugo never saw himself in a position to love someone, it was too troublesome. Hell, he never understood the whole idea of love itself.

He scoffed. If he had found himself fancying a person, it would be one akin to himself.

Someone strong.

Someone who spoke their mind.

Someone who could handle him.

Someone who—

Whack! A shoe smacked him out of his dazed stupor. Apparently, the friends of so-called stranger who shuffled off the rooftop in a crying heap told what transpired. The whole girl squad fashioned themselves into a line meant to reprimand his actions.

“You could have softened the blow, you know!” One of them hissed. “In a way that wouldn’t hurt her feelings!”

“Yeah. You’re pretty selfish, Bakugo-san. You could have at least tried to hang out before deciding!” Another chided.

The act ignited his anger, leaving him an irked mess.

Soften the blow? What did they expect him to do? Listen to the confession wholeheartedly, seemingly interested in actually dating the other party? Hell no. Why would he do so? It would only make the rejection hurt more. No matter how you put it a rejection is still a rejection; and a rejection will hurt.

Selfish? He had done the girl a huge favor. More or less she would finally move on and treat the event as a lesson; focus on someone who had the time for affection.

Was it his fault for not feeling the same way? Fuck no. He owed them nothing.

“Don’t wanna. Too much of a hassle.” Bakugo sneered.

And, oh boy were women scary. Nothing was more terrifying than a group of women who managed to suppress Hell’s fury and rage into their whole being. Hypocrites. Speaking of softening blows when one hit from any single one of them could break bones.

God. He hated their quirks.

(scratch that. he hated the sound of his mother’s cackling the most. ‘now what did i tell you about pissing off girls!’ she scolded.)

iii.

Bakugo was a lot of things: perceptive, intelligent, strong— Hell he could list down a thousand adjectives if he wanted to. But, he was never the observant one.

Sheer power? He was fucking amazing.

Keen leadership? Bakugo is your guy!

Socializing skills? …Working on it. But, God yeah!

As perceptive as he was, his ego took a bit of a hit the moment he crashed into her. And as much as he would like to boast it was her fault in the first place, with the stacks of books that perched on her forearms, he knew better than to daze off in the middle of a crowded hallway.

The books shook in momentum, and in return one hand steadied the massive collection. The blonde Pikachu outwardly reached out preventing the crash, a feat Kaminari would evidently use as a bragging tool later on.

“Ah, sorry about that! Spiky over here’s in a daze after the math quiz,” Kaminari snickered.

“Says the cheater who got caught on question one.” Bakugo retorted with an eyeroll to match.

The other person in question huffed out a breathy laugh, the books shook once again in reaction, forcing her to side step to balance them out. “That’s fine. Sorry for blocking the way too.” The stranger reassured.

By then, Bakugo’s stomach growled. God was he hungry. He casually followed the flow of people toward the lunch area. A few steps later his blonde companion tapped him on the shoulder, almost frantically.

“I-I’mma help carry the books to—” Kaminari whipped his head back and forth at him and the other person walking the opposite direction. “So... yeah! Go without me!”

Bakugo grunted. A non-verbal consent which easily meant “go, I don’t care”, or more likely “bye. i’m fucking hungry”. He couldn’t understand why Kaminari would go that far for someone he barely knew, especially when their whole body was covered by the stacks of books. Suspicious if you asked him.

The boy was simply unpredictable and troublesome. Nah. He had no time to think about the electrical cord, he wanted to eat. Once he arrived at the dining hall, the other three constituents of his group sat on their usual hangout place. Thankfully (he won’t admit it) the eccentric red head ordered his regular lunch for him, allowing Bakugo to immediately slide into the table.

“Bahkuwgo! Whersh Kahmiyari?” Pinky blurted, her mouth filled with food.

His eyebrows furrowed. Where was Pikachu? “Shithead’s busy.”

Bakugo returned to the matter at hand, his aching stomach, and began chewing. Obviously, the angry porcupine had no time to gossip about the who, what, where, and when’s, hello? Stomach first. His ears on the other hand had no shut-off button, prompting him to listen in the conversation rather irately.

“I told him to study! Three nights ago! And what happens? He decides to write down the whole syllabus into his hands!”

Sero sighed. “Mina. He’s helpless and will never learn—”

“Didn’t you copy off him too?” Kirishima chortled. “I saw you look over his answers!”

The black haired boy feigned shock. “Are you assuming I cheated? I thought we were friends!” Seconds of thought later, his eyes widened in real shock. “If you saw me looking... it means you looked too!”

“Bro. I wouldn’t cheat. It’s against my honor—”

“Oh my God! All three of you are idiots.” Mina gushed.

“Says the girl who left the whole back page em-empty.” Sero snickered, his palm jabbing his chest to dislodge the food stuck in his throat.

Kirishima gasped. “There’s a back page? The—”

“Hey! How do you know? You’re seated at the third row! So you’ve really been chea—”

The thwack of a lunch tray interrupted the conversation, an achievement only possible by the fourth idiot of the group. The lightning bolt returned from the alleged errand in a sputtering mess; like he would be when overloaded by his quirk, almost but not quite.

“Denki! What took you so long? I bet Aizawa-sensei decided to talk some sense into you!” Mina teased, tilting her head in confusion when the blonde suddenly dazed off.

Bakugo smacked the Kaminari on the forehead, rather lightly. “...Idiot’s broken.”

“No... I met an angel...” The chargebolt mumbled.

“Here we go again.” Sero shook his head in response. “Who is it this time?”

“Shush! She’s here!” He hissed. “Bakugo bumped into her earlier. She had these big books—”

“Bro! That’s no way to talk to a girl—”

“No! Not that! Real books! So, they were heavy and... Yeah. I helped her carry them to Recovery Girl— and yeah!”

“You’re not making any sense.” Sero advised.

“Shut up! She might hear us!” Kaminari gawked. “...She’s so pretty...”

Four sets of eyes travelled towards the person the Pikachu was ogling at, a silent agreement among all five of them to be as unsuspecting as possible. Evidently, she was a simple normal high school girl whose smile seemed to radiate glee likely from her co-classmates who sat with her.

Bakugo surveyed her face, and then onto her gestures and actions. A Goddess? Huh. The girl seemed pretty normal to him, no one special. Kaminari unmistakably gushed over another woman, like he usually did for no reason at all.

“Where’s she from?” Bakugo asked, rather boredly.

“Ah, yeah! I don’t know.” The lover-boy continued ogling. “...She’s not from the Hero department for sure.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

iv.

Bakugo hated many things; failing tests (he’s too smart to fail), winning without actual merit, God he despises losing even more, Deku (he doesn’t actually, too prideful to oppose it though), nagging— He hates Aizawa’s nagging the most.

It must have something to do with the nonchalant tone, more like dead and spiritless if you asked him, the all knowing attitude, the deep timbre of ‘Bakugo. Fix that up. If I find out you’ve been bleeding all over the floor. Good luck.’, the threatening staring contest thereafter, and the resolution: him walking furiously to the nurses’ office.

He groaned. It was a tiny scratch. Maybe a bruise, or two. The gash on his temple stung, not just physically. The reason why he was cut in the first place was all because of shitty Pikachu blabbing about his fucking angel. If he said “You’re just jeaaaalous” one more time, he would explode.

Bakugo warned him. Multiple times. Kirishima could vouch it. But, no. Bolty decided to repeat the phrase manifold of times, leading him to screech a “shut the fuck up!”, causing Pinky to scream, in succession scared Shitty Hair forcing him to activate his quirk—

Fuck that. In short, it was all thanks to the living and breathing phone charger.

Bakugo gripped the clinic door and slammed it open. The quicker he found Recovery Girl the quicker he returned to class and beat the shit out of Pikachu. Yeah. He’d do that, but instead he found her.

For fucks sake. The indirect reason why he was in this state.

He marched toward the desk, dragging his feet in a somewhat stomping manner. The way she blankly stared irritated him more. Was she just going to stare? Bakugo rolled his eyes. Did she think he was pathetic to come in for a slight scratch?

He had no choice. Not his fucking choice.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

Finally. The girl roused from her state of daze and stood up. Now all he needed to do was ask— nah, he’d wait for the head nurse himself.

The other person in the room darted her eyes to him and a clock on the wall almost quizzically, as if she was contemplating what to do. With that, she spun around and faced him.

“She’s not here. Bear with it for a sec, let me get something to help.” She mumbled.

Oh? The girl wasn’t a bystander after all. She reached for a small kit inside a cabinet in the wall. Her hands then beckoned to a chair and it was his cue to sit down.

This gave him ample time to observe the woman who’s been driving him nuts. Through the oddball Kaminari of course.

First of all, she was no goddess. Looked more like an enraged chipmunk on Christmas morning. Her cheeks puffed up in concentration, dabbing antiseptic on his temple. How Kaminari fell for her, he had no idea. Not surprising though, he’d fall for the whole female populace if he had the time for it.

Second, why the fuck would he be jealous! What was there to be jealous about? Pikachu should be the envious one. The girl he fawned for happened to be the same woman in charge of cleaning his wounds. No. Not wounds. Scratches. Stupid scratches. Her eyes glazed in utter focus at the task of hand, this beat Kaminari’s “watching habits” any day.

Hell, he was a tad excited. Using this incident as a tool to finally make the idiot shut up. The imminent power he’d have over the crappy blonde. He would bring it up on every occasion possible, well— not every one. Bakugo did have mercy for the goofball. So, maybe five times a week. Almost enough to make up for all the weeks of his bantering.

Third, he thought, wouldn’t it be better if he introduced you to Kaminari instead? Yeah, he barely knew you. Even so, it was worth a shot. Maybe referring you to the Pikachu would be better in the long run. Maybe, the experience could humble him. Bakugo shook his head. No. Even if he managed to coerce you into meeting Bolty, there was no guarantee you’d actually like him.

Then there was the impending heartbreak and sobbing and whining and complaining. Nevermind. He’d go through so much shit for a tiny bit of satisfaction. Scratch that.

Anyway, what was so great about you? You weren’t from the hero course. Obviously. Bakugo knew most of the students from that department. Although he couldn’t remember names, faces seemed to pop up in his mind. You didn’t have an awesome quirk. Hell, if you did, he recalled no one who looked like you from the sports festival. Business department? He assumed people like them don’t intern for the clinic. General department then?

Bakugo growled. Why was he trying to understand you? You were nothing to him. A simple stranger who crossed paths with first time, and highly for the last time once the whole ordeal was over. God. He’ll kill Kaminari for this.

At that instant, Bakugo felt repetitive pressure on head. It took him a few seconds to realize she patted him. Like a kid!? Fuck no. His ego couldn’t take her treating him as a child. A small vein popped on his forehead and when he was about to berate her for her actions, apparently she spoke first.

“Good boy, you can leave now.” With. A. Matching. Grin.

Fuck no. This was worse. You didn’t treat him as a child, he was a pet to you! A pet? Why a pet!? He wanted to wipe that dumb smile off your face. You were exactly more annoying than Pikachu ever was!

Her cheeks flooded pink from the small laugh she released. Bakugo’s eyes hovered over to yours and one though popped up: cute.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Imaginary steam evaporated from the top of his head. Cute? Cute! Gross. The woman in front of him wasn’t cute. She was fucking annoying. He bet his mind spelled u.g.l.y wrong. The scratch on his head fucked up his intellect.

Bakugo immediately stood up, pointing an accusing finger at her. “What’dya call me, ugly!?”

Anyone who thought Bakugo was the type of person to run away from a fight would be met with the indignant monster himself, threatening the offender with fury akin to the devil.

It’ll take a million years before Bakugo willingly scampered off the battlefield without dealing a punch (or two).

However it would take longer for him to admit he was running away from you. No. He wasn’t ‘running’ per se, he was observing the situation. The whole clinic event left him irked and in a sense, intrigued.

Now that he thought about it, anyone who met his “angry” side were prone to either a. running; b. crying; c. anger; and d. all of the above; and in rare cases: e. laughing. He assumed anyone who laughed at him after his usual feats of anger were the real creepy ones— or idiots reincarnate.

The moment he knew of her existence, he found himself noticing her more and more. He remembered specs of her daily routine from mere perception, something he hated he did, yet couldn’t stop.

She hated tomatoes, he gathered from a passing conversation on the way to the lunch room.

She hated snakes even more. Something to do with a childhood fear that forced her to go to the hospital.

She loved reading, he presumed with all the books she had on the top of the desk in the library.

As much as it irritated him to realize she took up a part of his thoughts (a big part, really), it pisses him off further when she spotted him looking at her as well. That led her to offer him a smile, sometimes a nose scrunch, other days furrowed eyebrows in confusion, but most of the time you never noticed the blonde hero student glancing at your direction.

Well, that’s fine with him. More time to speculate the shitty woman who managed to take up his time.

She took the courage to approach him one day. Bakugo knew she headed to his table in the library. So what does he do the moment her eyes met his in an attempt to introduce herself? Run. He fucking runs.

An accomplishment that only happened when the world split into two.

Yet, here were are on Day Four: Bakugo Ignores Gen. Girl to Restore His Self-Esteem. Part one of the “he was caught looking multiple times and almost confronted” franchise. This happened for quite a while, pretty easy actually. Both of your schedules never met, the only times he caught a whip of your existence were in the library (your humble abode) and the clinic (your humble abode part two).

Obviously, he avoided both places like the plague.

His plan worked for a while.

(for the first five days, honestly.)

Bakugo’s broke his streak one lunch afternoon. He caught her eye the exact moment she looked at his, inciting a silent battle of leering. She grinned set out to stir his anger and he glared right back. The fight lasted for minutes neither parties admitting defeat, earning the attention of his fellow lunchmates.

“Bakugo? Could you teach me this later?” Mina pleaded. “If I fail one more quiz I’d be dumber than Denki!”

“Hey! I studied this time. I bet I might get a higher score than Midoriya this time!” Kaminari disagreed, flicking the girl’s forehead.

“Finish eating already. We might be late again...” Sero sighed. “God. Aizawa-sensei gives me the chills...”

The red head of the group noticed Bakugo’s full tray and focused glare first. Kirishima lightly tapped the blonde, earning a grunt in response. Kirishima’s eyes then followed his line of sight to see the girl Kaminari has been talking about nonstop, and stop he did weeks ago.

“Ah. You know her, Bakugo?” Kirishima whispered. “You might... with that staring contest going on between you.”

“No. I don’t.” Bakugo scowled, in concentration.

Sero, who was in close proximity, heard the short discussion and pulled the other blonde by the ear. “Yo, Denki. Isn’t that Goddess #18?”

“Ah!” Denki immediately covered his ears. “Stop! Can’t handle it! Don’t even mention her anymore— Bakugo ruined the whole experience! Remember Goddess #20? Yes. I’mma stick with her.”

“Woah... Bakugo that’s one intense stare you have. Don’t tell me... you’re dating her!” Mina gushed. “Denki you never stood a chance!” She laughed.

“Who would like that— ugly!” Bakugo chided.

“No wonder you hated it. You were reaaaally jealous, huh?” The Pikachu sang. “It’s fine with me. You have my permission.”

Bakugo fumed. “I don’t need your permission to do anything!”

Kirishima blinked. “Oh, you were serious, bro? You do like her?”

“You’re all fucking annoying! Shut the fuck up!”

Sero grinned, a wide cheshire smile. “You know what this means? Time to meet the princess who stunned the angry dragon.” He stood up.

Mina understood the signal and followed suit. “Watch Bakugo for us, Kiri! We’re going to— Denki. You’re coming too.” She pulled the latter by the arm, dragging him unwillingly.

“I don’t wanna!” Kaminari cried.

“Hurry up. She could have pretty friends—”

“Ah? Let’s go.” The blonde picked up his weight and dashed.

The remaining two students sat in silence. Bakugo groaned in frustration. He’s going to kill all four of them. Maybe a slower death for Spiky Hair since he called their attention in the first place. Bakugo smacked his head on the table.

For fucks sake. Out of all the times they had to notice, why now? God. He hated his friends.

Kirishima patted his back, gently. He did not want to enrage the irritated Bakugo even further. “There’s no harm in meeting someone new, right? Think of it as a — fun experience.”

Fun, alright. Bakugo was going to have fun beating his friends up.

(says the angry pomeranian who heeded, and plomped down on the seat next to the stranger— not so unfamiliar anymore, almost happily. well, in his own way.)

vi.

You and Bakugo were polar opposites; the duo that clashed every second possible.

Believe it or not, the slightest of jabs ignited an argument so intense that calling the fire department would be justifiable.

(alright. this may sound over dramatic. but, hey. it came from kaminari himself. dramatics beget drama.)

One argument in particular stood out among the rest. It started little, truly. A small squabble, really.

Bakugo preferred sweets, she hated them.

He liked mathematics, she detested the subject.

He thrived with attention, she favored staying in the sidelines.

He loved the winter, she wished for summer.

And one phrase led to another, one plain phrase led to an even more painful prick, and in conclusion—

“You’re quirkless. Stop complaining.”

happened.

Bakugo never meant for the remark to hurt your feelings. It was a smooth attempt to disguise his embarrassment; you begged to hold his hand. Utterances of ‘we’re friends!’ and ‘don’t be shy!’ irked him. How the fuck was it possible to stay calm when the simplest brush of your hand against his, sent him into a frenzy?

Safety. He rebutted. It was for your safety. As much as he’d like to hold your hand with his—

(he’d die before admitting it, though.)

that quirk of his, stopped him. Sweat triggered his quirk. The very instance of the substance forming in his hands could cause an explosion. He doubted you’d be thankful spending Christmas in a hospital, your parents resorting to call a lawsuit.

Was warmth a suitable reason to lose an arm? Hell no. Bakugo knew you hated winter, and all sorts of cold weather. Yet, he’s not stupid enough to risk your safety for something so... immaterial.

Her words of ‘you’re selfish, Bakugo!’ prickled his skin. It was an innocent jab, he knew it was a joke. Still, if you haven’t understood the way his quirk worked. He thought it would be better for you to learn the hard way.

And bingo. Bakugo said it.

“You’re quirkless. Stop complaining.”

Little did he know those words impacted his companion harsher than he initially thought.

A small forced laugh came from your lips, compelling you to step sideward. An attempt to move yourself farther from him. “We should hurry up. I don’t think they’d like cold pizza.”

Bakugo nodded, unconsciously watching your every move. He understood the topic of your quirklessness was taboo. A sort of innermost disappointment, and the focus of childhood bullying. He should have phrased it in a better way... a small part of him thought maybe, you wouldn’t get hurt, a way to attest your friendship.

He grunted. His mom would kill him if she found out it was his fault. And knowing the woman’s personality, he preferred not being chewed out in front of his schoolmates. With a sigh, Bakugo unshuffled his muffler and wrapped it around his female buddy.

“Next time, wear something thicker. I won’t always be here to save your ass.”

Her eyes blinked in succession. Her eyebrows furrowed after. Roughly, comprehending his actions.

She beamed. “Oh? Is little Bakugo apologizing?” Her fingers twisted the pizza box, forcing it onto his hands. “Then carry this ‘oh holy’ one. I might forgive you then.”

“Fine. Crappy woman.” Bakugo grumbled, tugging her forward by pulling his muffler. “Hurry. I’m hungry.”

By 5:30 P.M., the pizza deliverers (Bakugo and her, the idiots who lost at rock, paper, scissors) arrived at the Bakugo household with the food. The appearance of the two prompted cheers and yells from Mina, Kaminari, and Sero who huddled on the couch.

“What took you so long? Imagine listening to Denki sing the karaoke for hours!” Mina whined.

Sero jested. “Next time, we forget inviting him. This early Christmas celebration can carry itself without his presence.”

“Get the fucking pizza yourself then! Stupid crowds hogging the whole pizza place...” Bakugo threw the box at the group, instantaneously, marching towards Kirishima.

“Bakugo! B-Becareful!” Kaminari worried. “If it’s destroyed... you... get a new one!”

Heh. Like the expensive meal couldn’t handle a bit of force. Bakugo stomped towards the redhead and took a soda from the table nearest to him.

Kirishima rose his eyebrows. “So. Had fun?” He elicited an all-knowing grin. “I think you did.”

“Shut up!” Bakugo hissed, eyes wandering to the bundle of people on the couch.

“You know, you’re too obvious.” He laughed. “Well, except for one of us. That one has no idea.”

“I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? Or you’re pretending not to?”

“Ugly’s a friend!”

Kirishima hummed. “Alright, bro. I won’t pressure you into talking about it.”

A loud pop interrupted their conversation. Kaminari opened a fizzed up can of cola, the drink sprouted into Mina’s face. “I’m going to kill—”

“But, If you want something to happen though. You have to learn to speak up, Bakugo.”

vii.

“Come on, Bakugo! Just this once, please!” Mina begged. “It’ll be great for everyone! Don’t you feel sorry for Denki... He’s been cramming for days!”

“That’s what the gets for playing the whole weekend.”

“Please! I promise we’ll make it up to you!”

“No. Too much of a hassle.”

“C’mon... Princess, help?” The pink haired student gestured to the other girl in the group.

You sighed. “Mina, he doesn’t want to do it.”

“See, ugly agrees!”

“...Oh, wait. On the other hand, Bakugo’s too busy to teach. Mina, try asking Midoriya to help.” Her eyes met his in a stare off. “He’s got the time, especially when he’s so busy himself.”

She knew using his rival’s name as a bargaining chip kindled his anger. It was his fault for calling her such an offensive nickname in the first place.

“Might let Pikachu teach you math too. You’re dumber at it than he is.”

“Oh? I should let him. He’s better at teaching than you are!”

Mina glanced back and forth between the two parties. A silent ‘oh boy, this will not end well.’ featured on her face. Pinky shook her head, and placed a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder.

“It’s fine! Stop arguing, really.” Mina murmured.

“No. She started it.”

“Don’t be a child, Bakugo! …Oh, you scared?” Ugly taunted. “I might beat your score in math.”

“Hah? You, the flunk? Fine. I’ll teach the shitty subject.” Bakugo grinned. “Any score lower than mine means you owe me one.”

And she gulped, anxiously.

This became the humble beginnings of how Bakugo became the professor of the study group, ultimately leading to her doom. He was excited. Oh, what shit he’d make her do in retaliation.

He agreed on the following terms: library after classes, subjects will be appointed beforehand, anyone skipping must be told in advance... and fifty other rules so on and so forth.

And on the third week of the so-called cramming agenda, four of his classmates decided not to attend, leaving him and ugly as the remaining participants. The whole point of the activity was to teach the idiots, if they don’t show up why was he here?

Bakugo scanned through the math test he gave his companion. First, she was no idiot. There were hardly any errors, if there was, he presumed it was her faulty writing and adding. Solutions were well done, the logic was there. The problem? Yes. The idiot forgot her calculator.

He clicked his tongue. The assumption was apparent, the whole back page had scribbles of numbers, divides, and all the shit. Why the hell did she not have a calculator? Forgetful one she was.

And second, why the fuck was she dozing off? Sure, mathematics was a boring subject. Sure, he was a boring teacher. Sure, he was teaching them to pass the subject. They should all be grateful for his fucking effort.

The hues of the sunset danced on her skin, the reds and oranges bounced on her hair radiating a wave of light. Her head perched on her crossed arms on the table, the head leaning slightly right. He saw the dark pigments below her eyes.

Must have been studying hard, huh? Bakugo knew the girl was on a scholarship. It’s been discussed millions of times. He realized the pressure must have gotten to her, especially being one of the only quirkless students in the school. Seemingly, all she had to offer was her bright intellect.

(not all. she was way better than most of the students in the whole department! bakugo punched anyone who thought otherwise.)

“...Do you like someone?” She muttered.

What? In a split second, he focused his eyes on the girl in front of him. She stayed in the same sleepy position as earlier, convincing him she might have been talking in her sleep. Shaking his head, he returned back to the papers in his hands.

Minutes later a sudden tap on the table prompted him to look at his companion. Her eyes gazed at him with such intensity, his stomach jumped. Somersaults, loops, rollercoasters. God. This only happened after a punch to the gut in battle. The woman was supposed to be asleep! What the fuck was she doing awake.

Oh. So, she did ask the question. Was he supposed to answer? Silence is an answer. Knowing the girl, any answer he’d give sired more questions. God. He wanted to leave. What was the shittiest answer he could give her. Yeah.

“...Shut up, extra.”

Perfect. Now back to the question at hand. What kind of fucked up person willingly confesses ‘You. Stupid. I like you.’ without proof the other party felt the same? It was simply a formula to fail.

Hold.

The.

Fuck.

Up.

Did he really think he liked her? No. Brain thought wrong. Brain really thought fucking wrong. Just because he hated it when she focused on people who weren’t him doesn’t mean he likes her. Just because he’d break someone’s face for talking shit about her doesn’t mean he cares like that. Just because every retort she said in retribution turned him on doesn’t mean he wanted to kiss her.

Fuck. He wanted to kiss her.

Kiss her badly.

He wanted to grab her by the collar and just kiss her.

God. He hated it.

The girl abruptly reached for his collar, pulling him towards her. “Who is it?” She whispered.

Oh fuck. The cogs in his brain twisted and turned. Did he say it out loud? Did he fucking say that out loud? What the fuck was he doing? Who is it? What the fuck were you talking about?

Who is it? Who was who? He hated cryptic messages. His eyes searched for meaning on your features. A person? Who?

Ah. You asked who he liked.

Great. What was he supposed to say? It’s you, ugly! Wake up! He’d burn in hell before speaking up.

One name popped up. Miruko’s agency. Rumi. The woman he was interning for. Like crap she’d find out about it.

“Rumi, her name’s Rumi.”

viii.

12:00 P.M.

bakugo: i’m hungry

bakugo: bring ur snacks

12:50 P.M.

bakugo: u not gonna eat huh?

bakugo: suit urself brat

3:00 P.M.

bakugo: think u gonna win the bet now aren’t ya

bakugo: keep ignoring me maggot

bakugo: fine

5:00 P.M.

bakugo: spiky hair said to come

bakugo: he has shitty fish crackers for food

bakugo: the fuck??????

bakugo: you ignore me and answer his calls?????

Bakugo was not an avid texter. Most of his messages consisted of ‘ok’, ‘nice’, ‘no’, curses, other single word messages, sometimes barely a reply at all. The sheer amount of effort he put into texting you proved otherwise. Yet...

Read. Read. Read.

All of his messages sent to you were on read. What he fuck was going on? For five days, she’s been missing in action. He tried everything.

Inviting the woman to lunch. Ignored.

Reminding her of the cram session. Bailed.

Snacks! You loved snacks! Ignored again.

Bakugo was this close to shoving you up against the wall and forcing the shit out of you. What did he do so wrong? Oh, was it the kiss thing? Did he say it out loud? Your face showed no clear answer at the time. Your deadpan expression irritated him.

What if he wanted to kiss you? Was that shit so bad?

That had to be it.

You weren’t ignoring Spiky hair, Pikachu, Duct Tape, and Pinky— then it had something to do with him.

He grunted. Swiping the contacts on his phone, he hovered over the one named ‘Ugly’ and tapped it. Bakugo disabled the block function.

If you weren’t talking to him, fine, he won’t fucking talk to you.

(yes. he was that petty.)

Streams of notifications buzzed. All of them coming from you.

Ugly: 6 P.M.

Ugly: Outside 3-A.

Ugly: Don’t be late.

Ugly: stupid.

Fucking finally. The woman finally decided to text back.

A meeting place? For what?

The exams were over. A celebration party then. No. Why was the location at 3A then? Oh. The bet. She wanted to compare answers for the shitty bet.

Bakugo flicked his phone on. 6:25 P.M.

Amazing. He was fucking late.

The distance from the faculty room and the third year homerooms were near. It took him no time at all to stomp all the way to the designated meeting spot. Why you couldn’t have texted the shit down, he hadn’t understood.

Bakugo sported a look of annoyance the moment he found you. Shitty woman.

“You finally decide to text me back, shithead.” He cursed.

The girl fashioned an amused expression. “Hm. You missed me?”

Of, course he did. How crappy of you to fill his thoughts of only you, annoy him ‘til worlds end, only for him to be forgotten and ignored. Like a thrown away puppy on the sidewalk.

“Who would miss you, ugly.” He fumed.

Yeah. That’s what you get for pretending he didn’t exist. You can’t leave him begging for your attention, that was something shitty fan girls did. And she stood there feigning ignorance of the whole ordeal. He bet she never even noticed he blocked her.

She erupted in giggles, clutching her stomach as the stronghold. “I’m sorry. The exams were really difficult.”

You bet they were terrible. They had the same general education syllabus, except for major hero subjects and courses. The outright tears Pikachu shed after the math exam proved its difficulty. Bakugo bet she cried after the exam as well.

Might figure out the task he would make her do. Something embarrassing? No. He wasn’t that cruel. A weird prank? What prank though—

“I missed you too, Katsuki.” She consoled.

Of, course you did. Who wouldn’t miss him? The dweeb better be thankful he blessed the his friendship onto her.

(though, he’d like a little bit more than that.)

Hah! Bakugo could force her to buy him a new muffler. The one he had disappeared (into her closet) and wanted a new one.

Katsuki.

Katsuki. Katsuki.

Fuck. She called him by his first name. And he only noticed it— now? Gears and cogs twirled within his consciousness. What did it mean? What did that mean? God. He hated it. Was that your way of showing your love? Did that love mean affection as relationship or love as friendship?

Fuck. He couldn’t tell.

Yet, he knew one thing.

He wanted to kiss you so bad.

The snickers and giggles from the people outside the room stopped him though. His shithead friends managed to ruin it, yet again.

Heh. Maybe next time.

Love has always been a difficult subject to comprehend, and for Bakugo whose typical acts of love revolved around teasing, and riling you up, the subject was more troublesome to speak out loud.

However, you were worth the trouble.

Now, you just needed to spot how.

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #boku no hero bakugou #bnha bakugo #bnha x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero scenarios

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ashxketchum · 3 years

Text

Writer’s Month - 4

If I can just do this whole week consistently, I would feel so much better about myself, I kid you not.

Fandom/Pairing: Beyblade/TyHil (HAHAH WHAT ELSE WERE YOU EXPECTING FROM ME!)

Prompt: play, modern setting ( so I already had something in works with a class is putting on a play plotline, I’d shared the progress earlier too, and decided to add to it as much I could at work today. Again this is written on my notes app, so expect a lot of mistakes! Tagging @rainbow-pearls cuz I think she would like to read the minor continuation of the earlier snippet, and maybe @zadien too?)

“Why are you still here?”

Tyson opened an eye and peeked at the source of the disturbance. Only one person in their school was brave enough to wake him from one of his infamous naps without fearing the consequences. The brunette was standing in their classroom’s doorway with a disapproving look on her face and her hands fixed on her hips. When she saw him wake, she started to make her towards his desk.

“Gee, Hilary why do you think?” Tyson muttered in reply, trying to stifle a yawn as he opened his eyes fully and stretched his arms over his head in order to rid his body of the slumber that he had been so peacefully encompassed in until a few minutes ago.

“You know we’re supposed to be preparing for the school festival right now. Together. As a class.” She was standing right next to his desk now, but even then the glare she sent his way did not seem to have any effect on him.

“I don’t think I’m a group activities sort of person.” Tyson said, locking eyes with her, a determined look on his face.

“Says the guy who almost cried a river when his teammates left him.” Hilary scoffed at him.

“I didn’t cry, and let me rephrase that, I’m not a group activities person at school.” Tyson retorted, ears a little bit red from the brunette’s accusation.

“Oh come on Tyson, this will be fun!” Hilary groaned defeatedly, she propped herself over the desk Tyson had been sleeping on until a few minutes ago, knowing very well that it will be a while before he is convinced. Tyson was then forced to straighten up and lean back in his chair or else his head would’ve collided with her hip, and any remaining feeling of drowsiness left his body as he did so. “Chief has been working really hard for this, you know.” The brunette added, tilting her head sideways, to meet his eyes.

“In other words, he’s driving you all crazy and you need me to rein him back in.”

Hilary held his gaze before narrowing her eyes in annoyance, “He is driving us crazy, but I’m more than equipped to handle him and he has really been working hard so as his friend you should be there to support him. Just like we are always there to support the team.” She looked at him pointedly, stressing on certain words loudly and making him wince as she did so. Tyson groaned, she knew him well enough to know that the ‘I’m always there for you’ trick always worked immediately on him.

“And what exactly are we doing this year? Another cafe? Do you really want me to be around food and other edible items?” Tyson challenged her, trying to display a somewhat proud look on his face, even though internally he knew he’d already lost the battle by showing interest.

“No. I would not be here forcing you out of this chair that you glue yourself to every morning if I knew that our ingredients would be in danger.” She scowled deeply at him before continuing, “Frankly I’m surprised you don’t know what our class is putting up despite sitting through the meetings in the past week.”

Tyson shrugged guiltlessly, “I’m just as good at zoning out as I am at spinning tops.”

Hilary rolled her eyes and shook her head at his statement, after forcing the scowl off from her face, she looked at him with a sober expression and replied, “We’re putting up a play. Chief wrote it himself, and he is directing it too.”

Tyson leaned back further in his chair as a look of utter surprise settled on his face at her words, “You’re letting Chief direct it?”

“Well of course,” stated Hilary matter-of-factly, “he wrote it so he should be allowed to be in command.”

Tyson feigned shock and disbelief as he responded in a high-pitched voice, “Hilary Tachibana is letting other people be in command? Are you okay Hils? Do we need to take you to the hospital for an examination?”

Hilary shot him a seething glare and promptly got off the desk in annoyance, resting her hands on her hips once again she retorted, “I can’t always be in charge of everything obviously, even I am aware of that-” Tyson laughed out loud but quickly concealed it as a cough once his eyes met the brunette’s and she continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “Besides as the lead of the play, I have enough on my plate already. There isn’t much time left to take control of everything else.”

Her words sunk in much faster than usual for Tyson, his brows furrowing as he stood up too quickly, almost knocking back the chair he had been sitting in, “You’re playing the lead?”

His voice came out louder and squeakier than he had expected but his brain was already swirling for him to take notice of his tone or even his friend’s bewildered reaction.

“Y-yes.” Hilary stammered, completely taken aback by Tyson’s sudden reaction, she took a few steps back, eager to put some distance between them, as a confused look settled on her face.

“You’re playing the lead in a play that Chief wrote.” Tyson repeated, more to himself in an attempt to make sense of all the scenarios that were now popping up in his head. Hilary however, thought that he was addressing her, so she simply nodded in reply, still looking confused over the sudden change in Tyson’s behaviour.

Having been friends with Chief since they were in elementary school, Tyson was aware of the kind of stories and fantasies that his childhood friend preferred to indulge in. When it came to Beyblading, Chief was all about logic and facts, but when it came to his hobbies, he was more of an emotional sap, something people couldn’t usually tell by looking at him. Tyson however, frequented Chief’s room more than probably any other of the latter’s friend, which is why he understood better than anyone, that Chief was a romantic and sentimental nerd at heart. Which is also why it didn’t take the World Champion long to reach the conclusion that their class was probably preparing a cavity inducing love story for their school festival.

The real problem for Tyson was that Hilary had just told him that she wasn’t directing or organizing the class, as he had expected her to, but was actually taking part in something that he knew, without even taking a look at it, was probably a fairy tail-esque, love story.

He could feel anger course rapidly through his veins at the thought of any of his male classmates standing on the stage opposite from Hilary and professing their love to her, or even worse...

“Do you have a copy of the play?” Tyson snapped at her, he hadn’t meant to get mad at her and he could tell that even though she nodded and went around the class towards Chief’s desk to pull out a copy, she was upset by his angry tone and if he didn’t rein his emotions in quickly, they would slowly be heading into the argument territory. His suspicions were confirmed when she came back to him and thrusted the thin booklet into his hands harshly and folding her arms across her chest, passing him a steely look as he quickly skimmed through the play.

‘The Dragon and the Princess’

Tyson had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he read the title, he wanted to go through the contents as quickly as possible so he decided to show his disgust with the work when he reached the very end of it.

...the princess looks longingly into the eyes of the stranger…

Tyson’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance as he imagined Hilary gazing ‘longingly’ at a faceless classmate of theirs.

He quickly turned the pages again.

...the stranger bends down and plants a kiss on the Princess’ left hand…

His grip on the booklet tightened and he took a deep breath to compose himself and turn the pages a bit carefully in order to not rip through them in his anger.

...-queue music-

he grasps her hand and slowly leads her into the middle of the dancing couples, placing a hand around her waist…

Turn, turn, turn.

… stop music

they kiss…

Tyson slammed the booklet shut and next to him Hilary jumped, putting a hand on her chest as she sent him a glare for scaring her.

“Who’s playing the other lead?” He was surprised by how quiet his voice had become, in contrast to the anger building up inside him.

“Well, we haven’t picked anyone yet. Chief isn’t really satisfied by the performances he has seen, we’re actu-”

“I’ll do it.”

His statement was followed by a few minutes of total silence as Hilary stared at him in surprise with Tyson returning her gaze with an angry, determined one of his own.

“You’ll play the lead?”

Finally she spoke after what seemed like an eternity, her voice laced with doubt, as she still continued to stare at him, now looking like she was trying to search Tyson’s face or read his expression in an attempt to figure out if he had really meant what he had said.

“Yes, I’ll do it.”

Tyson repeated his words, his voice more firm and resolute this time around as he refused to back down from her gaze. Hilary continued to look unsure, eventually she turned her gaze downwards and it dawned on him that she might not want to do this with him at all. The anger that had been building up inside him like a bubble suddenly burst and his heart sank. He wanted her to raise her head so he could search her face for any clue that might point towards her not hating the idea of doing this stupid play with him. Tyson couldn’t help but think to himself that he might need to flee the country if Hilary flat out refused to do the play alongside him. Luckily they were alone in the classroom, not having witnesses for what was about to be the most embarrassing moment of his life was the only silver lining.

Then she looked up at him very suddenly and Tyson’s heart almost stopped, with her eyes shining brightly and a wide smile covering her face, she replied “Oh Tyson, that is wonderful! Chief said I wouldn’t be able to convince you to do anything, hah I can’t wait to look at his face when he hears this.”

A wave of relief washed over him and he had to stop himself from sighing out loud, he passed Hilary a nod of acknowledgement in silence and tried to maintain a straight face, hoping to not show the brunette how the thought of gazing longingly at her or kissing her hand in the near future was making him feel extremely giddy.

“Now come on, we’ve already wasted so much time here, Chief must be getting antsy!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Tyson begrudgingly followed Hilary out of the classroom and they made their way towards the gymnasium where their class was supposedly prepping for their showcase in silence. Well almost in silence, as Hilary skipped happily ahead humming a chirpy to tune to herself, apparently elated with herself over how she was able to convince Tyson to get off his lazy bum and actually participate in a school event. Tyson was a few steps behind her, the heat of the moment fading as he neared the gym and the idea of acting in a stupid, romantic play started to settle well in his mind. The guys would never let him live this down, he could picture the scene when they’d find out about this particular extra-curricular activity of his very clearly by the time he entered the gym, Max’s howling laughter, Rei’s forced attempt to be encouraging as he contained his own laughs, Kai’s stupid smirk which would also be mirrored on his elder brother’s face.

#writersmonth2021 #beyblade #tyhil #beyblade fanfiction #writealot #totally avoiding the suspicious looks at work while I type furiously on my phone #they probably think I'm having an argument or something #but no I'm just writing TyHil lol #editing this on tumblr app was a nightmare though #I blame my fat thumbs.

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hood-ex · 4 years

Note

for the prompt thing: Dick is stressed and overworked and the titans notice

Dick’s eye was twitching. It had been twitching nonstop for the last three days and he was sick of it. The constant stream of anxiety in his gut reminded him that the twitching wasn’t going to stop until the anxiety stopped. Once he figured out how to solve that problem along with his five hundred other problems, he’d be fine.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and hurried inside the Titans Tower, his dress shoes squeaking against the floor. He scowled. Damn shoes were always slowing him down.

As soon as he got inside the elevator, he immediately kicked his shoes off against the metal wall with a bang. He pinched the heels of his shoes with his fingers and let them dangle against his thigh. He brought his other hand up towards his face and checked his watch, realizing he was supposed to lead a meeting in ten minutes with a few of the Titans that were in town this week.

He knew his friends wouldn’t necessarily care if they started a few minutes, or hell, even a few hours later than planned, but he had other things to do tonight that he needed to work on. The quicker they got through the meeting, the quicker he could get to his fun responsibilities, like, say, having a talk with Bruce about microcellular duplication.

The elevator buzzed. As soon as the doors opened up, Dick was immediately greeted by the sound of Wally and Roy arguing with each other. It wasn’t unusual to hear the two of them bickering about something, but this time around there was some real heat in their voices that immediately had Dick feeling wary.

He stepped out into the room and saw Wally and Roy standing next to the large computer station. Wally had multiple papers in his hands and was looking particularly irritated with Roy. Roy was glaring right back at him for some godforsaken reason. They were too caught up in each other to be aware of Dick’s arrival.

“When I told you I don’t know how to file these, you should have listened to me!” Roy yelled, poking Wally hard in the chest.

“What’s there to get?” Wally yelled back, smacking Roy’s finger away. “You scan them, log the information on them into the system, and then put the paper copy in the cabinets! Even someone like you who uses Walmart to file taxes could figure it out!”

“Do you even know how many updates and shit Vic does on this thing?” Roy said, thumbing over his shoulder at the computer. “A ton. He switches programs all the time. So don’t you get all pissy at me for not being able to find the right one.”

“Okay, okay,” Wally said, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath. “You’re right. I probably should have called Vic to deal with this instead.”

“Damn straight,” Roy nodded. He reached out and playfully whacked Wally’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “I won’t hold it against you as long as you help me figure out how to do it. It’s not like I can ask Dick since the whole point of this is to lighten his load. Not, y’know, add stress on top of his stress.”

Dick’s eyes, even the twitchy one, widened in surprise. Their fight suddenly made so much more sense now. And they were fighting... over him? Okay, well, not fighting over him, more like fighting about helping him, which was also stupid. They shouldn’t have felt like they had to do that shit when they already had so much other stuff to deal with. Dick wasn’t the only one out of all of them with multiple responsibilities.

While he wished they hadn’t troubled themselves, he couldn’t help but feel touched by the fact that they had noticed him struggling these past few weeks. It was nice to know that they cared about him and that they were trying to do something to help him, even if their way of helping was just taking care of all the tedious paperwork stuff. Dick fucking hated paperwork.

He could feel himself smiling fondly when he said, “Lighten my load?” The two redheads whirled around to face him, both of them looking shocked to see him. “In what context?”

There was a moment of silence as his two friends processed his appearance. They looked from him to each other, looking very much so like the baddies who realized they’d just been caught doing something illegal.

“Shit, man, how long have you been standing there?” Roy asked while Wally tried to discreetly put the papers back on the desk.

Dick waved away their suspicious looks. “Just got here,” he lied. “I need to get changed and then we need to start the meeting.”

Wally groaned, throwing his head back. “Ugh. Meetings.” He walked closer to Dick and clapped him on the back with a grin. “At least while you talk we can eat the cookies Donna made for you.”

“Donna made me cookies?” Dick asked with a raised brow. The warmth in his chest amplified by ten, making him feel all fuzzy inside.

“Wally!” Donna shrieked, having just come into the room wearing a light blue apron covered in flour. “The cookies were supposed to be a surprise!”

“Yeah, Wally,” Roy said in a poor imitation of Donna. She marched over to him and elbowed him in the side with a sharp look.

“Oh! Right!” Wally said sheepishly. He looked at Dick with sad puppy eyes. “Sorry, dude.”

Dick tutted. “Don’t tell me sorry, tell her.”

“Sorry, Donna.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “I guess I can forgive you as long as you promise not to eat all of them.”

“Making a speedster promise to not be a bottomless pit? That’s asking a lot, D,” Roy said with a smirk.

“Shut it, Legolas,” Wally said in a sing-song voice.

They threw their middle fingers up at each other at the same time.

Dick gasped in fake horror. “What’s this? My children fighting?” He hooked his arm around Wally’s shoulders and walked him over to where Donna and Roy were standing together. He reached his arm out to corral both his friends into his and Wally’s embrace. “Sounds like it’s time for our weekly Get Along Hug.”

“I’m older than you! If anything, I’m your dad!” Roy protested.

“Why would you want to be responsible for all of us?” Donna said, her voice muffled against Dick’s shoulder. “We’re all disasters.”

Dick didn’t bother reminding her that they technically were his responsibilities since he was their leader. He simply tightened his hold on all of them and laughed when Wally wiggled impatiently and whispered, “Guys, the cookies...”

#Dick Grayson #Donna Troy #Roy Harper #Wally West #drabble #my fic #hope you like it!#replies #anon

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bloodfromthethorn · 3 years

Text

PTSD

Los Angeles doesn't get a lot of storms, but when it does, the Phoenix team takes notice.

Part four of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3.

The whole team was exhausted when they filed into the War Room for debrief. Eight long days of running around Indonesia chasing a covert terrorist cell was not exactly an activity conducive to getting a good night’s rest, and all of them showed it. Of all of them, Jack was probably managing the best, his years on the job getting him comfortably into the habit of grabbing catnaps in moments of quiet, but even he was on the verge of crashing hard. Boze looked like he’d already given up the ghost and had embraced sleepwalking.

Matty eyed them all with a sort of quiet concern she very rarely let them actually see.

“I know you’re tired,” she started carefully, “So let’s keep this short. Do you have any injuries to report?”

There was a general negative hum.

“Anything outside of what I caught on comms that I need to know about?”

Again, a quiet murmur of no.

“Do any of you have any questions or concerns you wish to raise about this mission?”

This time Jack’s hum was a little more non-committal; he had every intention of bitching about the state of their non-existent intel in his report, but that could wait until he’d been unconscious for a solid 20 hours. Getting into it now would only get messy and besides, he’d bitched about it plenty on comms too.

Matty nodded sharply when none of them spoke up. No doubt she’d caught their mild discontentment, but she was smart enough to realise now was not the time to fight that particular battle. Instead, she offered them a rare smile. “I think that’s all we need to cover right now. You’ve all got the rest of the week off – go home and get some rest.”

There was an audible sigh of relief as they turned as one to leave. Of course, that had to be the moment when Matty called after them.

“Oh, Jack, one more thing.”

He barely resisted letting out an audible groan as he swayed back on his heels, glancing over his shoulder. Ahead of him, the team also paused, interested despite their fatigue in whatever else Matty had to say.

“Weather reports indicate there’s a storm front coming in,” she said, apology and concern in her face if not her voice. She was watching Jack closely as she delivered the news. “Should reach the city in a few hours and last at least the night.”

At that, Jack really couldn’t help but groan. His head swivelled to meet Mac’s gaze, who was staring back at him with a resigned sort of distress colouring his face. Of all the possible times for LA to get a rare summer storm, it had to be right when the pair of them were already on their last legs. Of course.

“Copy that,” he said instead of screaming his frustration to the world, because despite what Matty said he did actually know the meaning of professionalism, thank you very much. “My house or yours, hoss?”

Mac considered it, looking tired and wan in the fluorescent lights. He might be the toughest person Jack knew, but right then he didn’t look like he could survive another sleepless night. “That waffle place near me does delivery until 2am now,” he mused after a moment’s thought.

Jack shot him a grin he didn’t really feel. “Sold.”

“But Boze-” Mac started, twisting to look at where the other two members of their team were still lingering in the doorway.

Riley neatly cut him off before he could finish voicing his concerns. “Boze will be perfectly fine spending the night at my place,” she said, casting a quick glance at the man in question to make sure he was fine with the arrangement. “You guys do what you need to do. Have fun with your waffles.”

“Yeah, man,” Bozer chipped in, “I’m all good. Don’t worry about me. Just try to get some rest if you can.” Riley tugged on his arm to get the pair of them moving, but he still twisted round to call over his shoulder, “And save me some waffles!”

With that they were gone, leaving Jack smiling fondly after them and Mac looking like his overworked brain was still trying to catch up with the conversation he’d just had. God, he was about thirty hours past exhausted and Jack could hardly stand knowing it would be some time yet before he could get some proper sleep in him.

“C’mon hoss,” he said softly, nudging at Mac’s elbow to grab his attention. “Let’s get you home. If we hurry, we might get a quick snooze in before the storm gets here.”

Mac did actually manage to catch a brief nap during the car ride home but he woke with a jolt when the engine shut off, much to Jack’s chagrin. Mac had never quite managed to pull off Jack’s habit of falling asleep at the drop of a hat, and it really cost him on long missions. His Overwatch had made it something of a personal mission to get Mac to sleep whenever he feasibly could.

“Anything left in the fridge is probably out of date,” Mac mused as they shambled into the house. His neighbours had learned to put up with a lot in his time living there, so two barely-conscious grown men would hardly even raise an eyebrow, thankfully. “Pizza?”

Jack considered for longer than he reasonably needed to before shaking his head. “Nah, not tonight. Is that Thai place down on the corner still open?”

“Chai Yo? Yes, but it’s closed on Thursdays.”

“Is it Thursday?”

There was a long beat of silence before Mac muttered quietly to himself and tugged out his phone to check. Jack eyed in enviously, his own having taking a swim in the Banda Sea after Mac repurposed it for some kind of SOS beacon. “Yes, it is. Apparently it’s also July? I thought we were still in June.”

Jack offered him a full body shrug, then dropped heavily onto the sofa. “Can’t be expected to keep track when Matty has us crossing timezones every other day.”

“Yeah. Well, Chai Yo’s closed. There’s that other Thai place, on Harris Avenue.”

Jack wrinkled his nose. “No, thanks. That place was awful.”

Not inclined to disagree, Mac tried to convince his brain to stop being mush and actually come up with a decent idea for dinner. “That diner on Northridge does deliveries now too I think,” he said at length. “I could go for a greasy burger.”

His partner mulled that over, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, that sounds good. You wanna call it in?”

Mac’s phone was already in his hand and he really didn’t have the energy to listen to more of Jack’s good-natured griping about losing yet another mobile to one of his builds, so he waved him off and retreated to the kitchen to place the order. That done and with more food on the way than two very athletic adults could conceivably eat, Mac stumbled back into the living room and collapsed face down on the sofa beside Jack’s inelegant sprawl.

“It just had to be tonight, huh,” he muttered petulantly into the pillow, thinking of a hundred previous stormy nights spent huddled up beside Jack on that very sofa.

The first few times it happened, Mac had assumed Jack was just humouring him. Someone as well trained and experienced as his Overwatch surely had no trouble fighting past the instinctive panic that gripped Mac whenever thunder boomed loud enough to shake the windows or lightning flashes lit up his entire house. It was merely another facet of Jack’s kindness that he was willing to spend the night with Mac to help chase away his demons when his brain was filled with nightmares about failed defusals and gunfire.

Then there’d been that flight back from Panama, when their jet had unexpectedly run into a thunderstorm while Jack was peacefully napping on one of the reclining chairs. At the first crack of thunder, he’d been on his feet, skin ashen and with one hand batting helplessly at his thigh for the gun that wasn’t there. It had taken Mac a solid ten minutes to calm him down enough to return to his seat, fighting his own flashbacks the whole way, and even then Jack’s entire body remained rigid for the rest of the flight.

Mac didn’t think he was simply humouring him after that.

Now, after years of dealing with it – and no small number of conversations with the Phoenix’s resident therapist – the pair of them had developed a system of diversions to keep them level-headed through the worst of LA’s inclement weather. The rest of the team was happy to help out, and all of them kept an eye on weather reports when the humidity started getting high. All of them had at one point or another seen Mac and Jack’s reactions to sudden loud noises or bright flashes and they wanted to do everything they could to spare them from it.

Mostly though, it boiled down to nothing more than being together while they – quite literally – weathered the storm. It was much easier to pull Jack from the brink of a nightmare about failing to save Mac when Mac himself was the one doing it, and vice versa. Besides, as much as Bozer and Riley had learned a lot since joining the Phoenix, neither of them knew the hell of the Sandbox and Mac and Jack were happy to keep them in the dark. There were some horrors that just weren’t meant to be spoken of.

“I’ve told you before man, you’re unlucky,” Jack replied, an uncoordinated arm reaching out to pat Mac consolingly on the shoulder. “Got no sense of luck at all.”

“I’m pretty sure the natural weather system of Southern California is beyond the reach of my personal control.”

“If anyone could though, man, it’d be you.”

Mac considered that. “Uh, thanks?”

There was peaceable silence for several long minutes and Mac listened as Jack’s breathing deepened and slowed. He always marvelled at how quickly Jack was able to get to sleep, envious of the apparent ease with which he did it. Mac had struggled with insomnia even before life as a soldier filled his head with more nightmares than anyone should have to deal with and these days he was lucky to get to sleep inside of an hour when he actually made it to his own bed. Of course, when they came home from a mission like the one they’d just had, all bets were off.

He rolled himself over so he wasn’t smothering himself in the cushion and pulled out his phone. The delivery app informed him that their food would be arriving in about ten minutes, so he slowly heaved himself back onto his feet and bustled around the kitchen warming plates and snagging some beers. Long since familiar with the general background noise of Mac’s house, Jack slept right on through.

When Mac’s phone pinged to tell him that their food would be arriving any minute, he crossed back over to his partner and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. The man came awake instantly, blinking twice as he registered the familiar surroundings before relaxing back into the comforting softness of the cushions.

“Food’s almost here,” Mac offered in explanation, though it was proved moot three seconds later when the doorbell chimed.

They ate their dinner close beside each other on the sofa with the TV playing reruns of an old action show from the 80s Jack insisted was a classic but that Mac was barely able to follow through a combination of poor writing, truly objectionable acting choices, and visibly cheap sets. As the night started to draw in, they both kept half an eye on the black rainclouds drifting down off the hills; by the time they polished off the last of the fries, the first few droplets had started splattering against the windows.

The rain steadily built as the pair of them made their way onto films instead, kicking off with Lethal Weapon because Mac had vetoed Jack’s first four suggestions and felt too guilty to do it again. The first few times they’d done this, Boze had questioned their choice of action films when they were so busy trying not to think about all the things such movies entailed. They’d tried to explain themselves, unsuccessfully. In truth, there was no real way of understanding that fake, predictable violence helped to drown out real-life trauma unless you’d experienced it first-hand. Watching Mel Gibson body check some random actor somehow made it easier for Mac’s brain to process that time he’d been tackled clean off a rooftop by the one insurgent Jack hadn’t seen coming, and so on.

It was strange and imperfect, but they found it worked for them. Provided, of course, that they only watched films they already knew by heart, where gunfights and explosions couldn’t creep up on them.

They didn’t even make it until the end of act one before the first rolls of thunder washed over them. Mac shuffled ever so slightly in his seat, only stilling when Jack’s shoulder brushed against his and stayed there.

They stayed like that over the next hour or so as the rain steadily grew in intensity until it started to sound like machine gun fire against the roof tiles, and the thunder grew into a roaring, snarling beast in the air around them. Jack flinched sharply at the first flicker of lightning, and only seemed to breathe again when his fingers strayed to the pulse point on Mac’s wrist. Mac busied himself with the breathing exercises the therapist had taught him, and traded the occasional text with Charlie when the Day of a Thousand IEDs rattled around his skull. On the other side of the country and several hours ahead, Charlie must have been messaging back from his bed, but he dutifully responded all the same – Mac had done it for him too in the past.

“I ever tell you about that time in Sardinia?” Jack asked just as the film was coming to a close. It was clear that the movie alone wasn’t enough to combat their combined exhaustion and PTSD, which left them trading tales instead.

“I didn’t even know you’d been to Sardinia. What on Earth could the CIA have possibly wanted there?”

Jack settled himself back into the sofa, preparing himself for what was evidently going to be a long and involved story. “Well, as for what they wanted, there was a minor off-shoot of the Mafia making a base there. Something about ferrying money into France or something-” He waved a hand, “I don’t remember the details of it. Not important and probably classified.”

“We have the same security clearance Jack.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“We do. I’ve checked your file. I know.”

Jack pulled on an expression of great offense, touching his free hand to his chest like a swooning damsel. “You’ve been looking at my file? Buy me dinner first.”

“I literally just did.”

“Hmm. Yeah, okay. I guess that makes up for it. But no more snooping in my file! There’s private stuff in there.”

“That time you chased a gun-wielding madman down while entirely naked isn’t exactly private when you write it on an official mission report for the US government,” Mac muttered to himself.

Jack pulled a face at him. “Okay, smartass, you want to hear the story or not?”

He snickered, but waved an obliging hand. “I really do. Please continue.”

The story was predictably embellished, complete with wild hand gestures and a horrendous Italian accent thrown into the mix, but it was precisely what Mac needed to keep his concentration in the here and now. The telling of it seemed to help Jack too – his thoughts couldn’t stray to darker places when he was focused on bright Mediterranean sunshine and a mission that had gone so far belly-up it had wrapped right around into utterly absurd.

They managed to get as far as the part where Jack had to flee his hotel room wearing clothes stolen from the man he thought he’d been trying to rescue before a particularly sharp clap of thunder sent Mac’s face utterly white. His eyes slammed closed and his fists clenched so tight Jack could see where his nails were cutting into the meat of his palms.

Jack’s hands were on him in a moment, one wrapping carefully around his wrist to monitor the jackrabbiting of his heart while the other cupped his jaw, a thumb running soothingly over the stubbly skin.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he murmured consolingly, keeping his voice quiet to act as an anchor for pulling Mac back to the present. “You’re at home, in LA, I’m here, Charlie’s fine, everyone’s okay. There’s no danger. You’re safe, Mac. You’re safe.”

“Not-” Mac tried, strangled, “Not me.”

“Ah, kiddo,” Jack breathed, feeling his own heart clench. “Everyone’s okay, I promise. I’m right here. You want me to get Boze and Ri on the phone? Hear their voices?”

Mac shook his head sharply, one hand darting up to curl into the fabric of Jack’s t-shirt like a lifeline. Watery blue eyes opened to latch onto his own.

“There you are,” Jack murmured, trying to keep his expression calm and open. “Stick with me man.”

“Are you- You’re okay?” Mac’s voice was very small. The hand fisted on Jack’s shirt was white with the force of his grip.

“Yeah, Mac. I’m completely fine. Not a scratch on me, see? I’m right here and we’re both safe. At your house, remember?”

He nodded slowly, his heartbeat finally starting to slow down and his breathing settling back into a steady rhythm. Jack released his grip on his chin, letting him look around and reorientate himself, but kept his other hand fixed on his arm. Touch was always the quickest way to settle a panicking Mac, provided Jack was the one doing it. Jack’s hands meant safety, meant protection, and they were the best anchor Mac had to reality when he was lost in a flashback.

“’m okay,” Mac mumbled after a long moment of strained silence, recapturing Jack’s gaze with his own. “I’m back.”

Jack eyed him with poorly disguised scepticism, but he didn’t comment on the reddened eyes or the still laboured breathing. Outside, the storm continued to rumble on like an unwelcome guest.

“It was Paktia again,” Mac said very quietly when Jack didn’t pick up his story. “The apartment building.”

“Aw, hoss. We both got out of there without a scratch. No boom.”

“I know that but… It was so close Jack. If I’d been just a second slower-”

“Ay now, none of that. You stop that right this instant, you hear me? You weren’t a second too slow and even if you had been, it wouldn’t have been on you. We only walked away from that because you were exactly who you needed to be in that moment, right? You did everything you possibly could have done and it paid off, and even if it hadn’t that still would have been true. Don’t kill yourself now over what-ifs, Mac. No one wins that game.”

They’d had the same conversation a hundred times and would no doubt be having it again later that night. Mac had said much the same thing to Jack two weeks ago when he’d come up out of a nightmare swinging. Like everything else they’d done that evening, it was a ritual born of long-held burdens and too many nights haunted by ghosts.

“Yeah,” Mac replied at length, finally releasing his grip on Jack’s shirt and slumping back into the cushions. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“That is highly debatable.”

Jack smiled at Mac’s return to something more like living and silently congratulated himself for helping it happen. His own anxiety had been through the roof since the rain started, but focusing on helping Mac helped to keep his own demons at bay: he didn’t have time to worry about his past horrors when his partner was right there in front of him, needing his support.

“Well, if that’s true, I guess you don’t want any waffles, huh? I was thinking of ordering some myself…”

Mac’s grin was shaky, but it was there all the same. “Ass,” he said fondly, already reaching for his phone. “You can do the ordering this time though.”

Jack snagged the phone and had a quick look through the menu before placing the call. Mac sat quietly beside him all through, his eyes staring blankly out the window as his fingers came to rest against Jack’s pulse. It was a habit he’d picked up from his Overwatch, and he realised very quickly that it was incredibly reassuring to feel the steady thrum and know it meant his partner was safe and healthy and here.

When he was done, Jack dropped the mobile off on the coffee table and returned his attention to their previous conversation. “Now, Sardinia. Where was I?”

Mac huffed out a near-silent laugh and finally relinquished his hold on Jack’s wrist. He busied his fingers with the label of his beer bottle instead, but it was more a force of habit than an anxiety response – baby steps, and all that. “I seem to remember something about you being half-clothed while hanging out of a third story window?”

“Ah, yes!” Jack announced happily, slipping back into his showman persona to chase away the shadows lingering in the corners of the room. “Now, you’ll never guess what happened next.”

“You fell out of a third story window while half-clothed?”

Jack shot him a dry look. “You’ve absolutely no flair for the dramatic Angus.”

He snorted, swaying to the side to bump their shoulders together. “Nah. That’s what I’ve got you for.”

“Damn straight, and don’t you forget it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

#MacGyver #angus macgyver #jack dalton #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfic #whump of july 2021

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katecarteir · 5 years

Text

the real world

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] word count: 2,732 chapter count: 5 of 18 summary: after a sudden and unexplained disappearance, richie tozier returns to derry with a secret that no one person could ever hope to hold onto

read on ao3.

moodboard by the lovely @kaspzier

a lil work in progress playlist

the real world taglist: @kaspzier @willelbyers, @proton-disaster-blaster, @richietoaster, @beautifullillis, @ichigokazuki, @protectthebyers, @lifesucksheres20bucks, @are-you-reddie-for-it, @reddiegaspbrak, @princesass-theresa, @cheekaspbrak, @roobarrtrashmouth, @reddiesmagic, @moonlighttozier, @flamingcheetoess, @reddie-wise (let me know if you want added!)

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @stebbins, @kaspzier, @s-s-georgie, @chaotickaspbrak, @eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope, @thorn-harvester-ven, @wheezyeds, @vipertooth, @tozierking, @billdenbrough, @sydinastans @itfandomprompts, @loserslibrary (let me know if you want added!)

Eddie Kaspbrak had a problem. That problem was Richie Tozier’s constant biting and licking at his lips. Was this a new habit he’d picked up while away this past summer or had he always done this? It must be new, it bothered Eddie so much that he would have noticed and been annoyed by it before this if Richie had always done it.

He was doing it now, sitting beside him in AP English. Licking at his bottom lip as he read his borrowed copy of Frankenstein. Eddie tapped his fingers on his desk, eyes trained on Richie’s now-wet and shiny bottom lip. It was going to chap like that, get irritated. Knowing Richie he’d pick at them and chew at them rather than putting on chapstick to help them properly heal. They’d probably get infected-

Something smacked Eddie in the back of the head and he whipped around, frowning deeply. Stan was sitting behind them, and he was smirking. “You’re staring,” he mouthed at Eddie, who whipped back to glance at Richie, as though he’d be looking back at him. Eddie scowled to himself, what did it matter if Richie overheard Stan being a jerk. Eddie directed his scowl to Stan, and ducked back down to look at his book, wishing that the back of his neck was warmed up with a blush.

As class dismissed, Eddie jumped from his seat and rushed out into the hall. He heard Richie give a shout after him, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t quite describe the panic that was beginning to settle in his chest, it wasn’t like anything he’d experienced before. It wasn’t asthma or fear, or even that burning sort of anger that sometimes made him feel short of breath in the worst way. This was…. new. He almost felt over-exposed. Like just the idea that he was being seen-

“Eddie!”

Eddie gasped loudly and whipped around at the sudden touch on his shoulder and voice in his ear. Heart racing in his chest, he realized it was Stan- and that Stan was holding his book bag. Eddie sighed and accepted it, holding it to his chest. “Thanks.”

“Somebody sure left in a hurry.” Stan said, still with that all knowing smirk. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Eddie asked, turning on his heel and starting back down the hallway. “I don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Oh no?” Stan chuckled, keeping pace with Eddie easily. “Not even the fact that you just spent all of class staring at Richie Tozier like he had the answers to the universe when he probably doesn’t even have the answers to last night’s history homework.”

Eddie’s chest flared. Richie did have the answers to the homework, he always did. Stan knew this, and Eddie knew that Stan was just teasing, just like he always did. It didn’t stop it from stinging or activating Eddie’s defensiveness.

“Look, Eddie,” Stan rested his hand lightly on Eddie’s arm. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know? Even if it’s Richie. It’s just- Richie’s been going through a lot, you know? Now probably isn’t the best time for him to be getting involved with anything.”

Eddie exhaled hard. Of course he knew that Richie was going through a lot- he knew that better than Stan did. The last couple days since Richie had talked to Beverly had been easier. Things were still tense among the Losers, but Richie was back in the group. He still didn’t come around after school, because of course he couldn’t, and Eddie tried his hardest to split his time between what the Losers were doing and visiting Richie and Riley. So, truly, how dare Stan act like Eddie didn’t understand that Richie was going through stuff. Nobody understood like Eddie did.

“Thanks, Stan.” Eddie jerked his arm away. “But your advice is unneeded. Richie and I are just friends and that’s all I feel about him. Alright? So don’t worry.”

Stan looked unconvinced, and crossed his arms. “I’m just looking out for you guys. Things have been weird for all of lately, and things are just starting to get back to normal. I don’t want anybody getting hurt- not Richie, and not you, okay?”

Eddie deflated and gave Stan a light smile. “I get it, and I promise you don’t need to worry, okay? I love Richie, but it’s not- it’s not like that. I love him like I love the rest of you guys.”

Stan made soft noise, and patted Eddie on the shoulder. “Okay, I’m not trying to pry into your business. Frankly, that’s the last thing I wanna do. The less I know about anything the better.” He said, prompting Eddie to chuckle. “But if you ever do wanna talk, I’m all ears. For you and you only.”

“Thanks, Stan.” Eddie said softly, then surprised them both by tossing his arms around Stan’s shoulders and hugging him tightly. Stan let out a small, shocked noise before returning the hug and giving Eddie a squeeze.

“What’s this? Can I get in one the ac-action.” Eddie barely heard Bill’s voice before another pair of arms were draping around them and pulling them in. Eddie broke into giggles as Bill struggled to tuck a struggling Stan under his chin. Stan pushed himself away, pink in the cheeks, and fixed his shirt.

“No, nope. You ruined it, Denbrough.” Stan said with half a smirk and Eddie thought his cheeks might rip from how hard he was smiling. It had been too long since he’d felt this on top of the world. His spirits just soared all the more when Richie came down the hall, chattering loudly with Mike, and broke into a huge grin when he made eye contact with Eddie. He bounced forward and tossed an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him in and guiding Eddie to rest his head on Richie’s shoulder. “What’s happening, my dear oldest friends? We got some good news going on here?”

“Nope.” Eddie said, smiling at Stan who winked back at him. “Just some good ass gay friendship.”

“Well, in that case- can we move this gay friendship to the cafetria?” Richie asked, his hand rubbing at Eddie’s shoulders almost absentmindedly. “Because I’m starving and I think we’re pretty capable of being gay anywhere we want.”

The words twinged in Eddie’s heart awkwardly, and he found himself ducking away from Richie touch without so much as thinking about it. Richie didn’t seem too bothered, moving from Eddie and to tangle himself around Bill, hugging him from behind and whispering something in his ear that made Bill crack up. Eddie smiled to himself, his chest warm.

Beverly and Ben were seated around their usual table as the rest of the Losers approached, all coming to sit together around the table having easily three different conversations. Richie slid into the seat beside Eddie, and wordlessly handed him one of the chocolate milks off his tray. Eddie smiled thankfully and realized it would be better to just accept it, rather than argue it. Eddie would never buy the chocolate milks himself, always trying to choose the healthiest options their cafeteria held. Bottled water, fried rice, rather than the heaps of pizza or fries with pop that his friends always buy. But lately, Richie always grabbed a chocolate milk for Eddie, somehow knowing that while Eddie would not buy it for himself that he would still want it.

“So, what’s the plan for this weekend?” Beverly asked, reaching over and taking fries off Ben’s tray.

“What’s this weekend?” Richie asked, mouthful of pizza. Eddie scowled at Richie’s lack of manners and handed him a napkin.

“It’s the college fair in Bangor.” Eddie said, reaching up to wipe at Richie’s face when Richie didn’t move to do so himself. He pretended he didn’t see the looks exchanged by Beverly and Stan while he did so. “It’s Saturday and Sunday afternoon, everybody will have to stay overnight. Which means, as usual, there’s no way my mom is going to let me go.”

“What about your dad?” Ben asked.

Eddie hummed. His father did have some weight when it came to Sonia Kaspbrak and her smothering, but not always. Every time Frank stepped in, it caused tension and anger between Eddie’s parents, which always made the environment at home uncomfortable for Eddie, too. He’d long since learned to pick his battles when it came to his mom saying no, and dragging his father into the issue. “It wouldn’t be worth it, really, causing a fight between them like that.” Eddie said sadly. “I already know I wanna go to NYU anyway, I don’t really need to go to the college fair.”

“You can hang around here with me, Eds.” Richie shot him a beam, knocking their shoulders together. Eddie smiled back at him, momentarily distracted from the way the rest of the table stopped to stare at Richie.

“You’re not going, Rich?” Mike asked lightly, frown lines appearing between his brow.

Richie’s smile slipped off his face and Eddie dropped his hand down to squeeze Richie’s knee. Of course Richie wouldn’t be going. He couldn’t get away from home for the weekend anymore than Eddie could. Eddie correctly suspected that even if Richie could get permission to leave for the weekend- he simply wouldn’t want to.

“Nah.” Richie said, forcing that smile back onto his face and giving a nonchalant shrug. Eddie could feel Richie’s knee jittering under his touch, and Eddie’s own heart started to hammer in his chest as he felt the eyes of everybody trained on Richie. “College isn’t really in the books for me, right now.”

Honest. Maybe too honest. Eddie tried to keep his expression as blank as he possibly could, but he had never really been good at keeping his emotions inside and right now they were like turmoil inside of him. It was something they hadn’t talked about- what Richie was planning to do next, where his life was going now that he had Riley- but here it was hanging out in the open. Richie didn’t see college as an option for him anymore, and that stung Eddie inside. Eddie didn’t want to be angry- a flash in his mind of Riley in her one piece sleepers and big brown eyes and Eddie knew he couldn’t be mad- but he still felt the unfairness deep inside of him and it made him feel something, even if he couldn’t explain what that something was.

“What?” Bill asked in a laugh. “Since when is college not in the b-b-books for you? Are you s-s-suddenly not a g-genius, Rich? L-last time I checked, you were sm-smarter than any of us.”

“It’s not about being smart, Bill.” Richie said lightly, clearly attempting to keep peace even as his expression grew tighter and his body language became stiff. “I just- it’s not where my life is heading right now.”

“Not where your ll-life is headed.” Bill deadpanned. “So wh-wh-where is it head-headed, Rich? B-B-because I don’t kn-know anymore. A-Are you pluh-planning do to any-anything with it at all?”

Richie clenched his fists for a moment then sighed. “College isn’t the be all and end all of life, Billy. You can do things without having to go into debt going to school.”

“Like what?” Bill challenged. “What, Richie? You’re going to settle down here in D-D-Derry like the ruh-ruh-rest of our parents? Have a a wuh-wife you’ll hate and some kuh-kids you’ll ig-ignore-”

Richie pushed back away from the table, hands clenched angrily at his side. His chair made a clattering noise as it fell to the floor. Eddie knew that all the eyes in the cafeteria were on their little table now. “FUCK you, Bill. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Yeah.” Bill said coldly. “Apparently not.”

Richie didn’t show up in the rest of their afternoon classes, and as soon school let out, Eddie was taking off and rushing through the halls. He was just passing the bike racks, thinking that he was actually home free, when he heard Stan shouting after him.

“Hey Eddie!” He said, skipping to the anxiously waiting boy. “The rest of the Losers are going to hit up the $4 afternoon movies, you in?”

Eddie frowned and glanced around, determined to look anywhere but in Stan’s eye. “I’m gonna…” Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly. “Things got kind of intense at lunch. I think I’m gonna go check on Richie, actually.”

“Oh perfect, that’s a great idea.” Stan grabbed Eddie by the shoulders and turned him around, guiding him out of the school parking lot and towards the Derry sidewalk. “I’ll go with you. I haven’t seen the Toziers in ages, it’ll be nice to pop in.”

Eddie’s heart remained tightly and throbbing in his throat, strangling him and bringing him completely unable to speak the entire way to the Tozier house. They walked in silence, Eddie unable to tell if Stan could feel how awkward it was, or if Stan was oblivious. Though, Stan Uris was never oblivious was he? He’d known there was more to what was happening than Eddie and Richie were letting on, and now Eddie had no way to throw him off the case without giving it away. He was stuck.

Eddie made his way up the Toziers front step first and rang the doorbell. He tried to ignore how his hands were shaking. Stan ignored it, too. Maggie Tozier opened the door, her eyes blank until they landed on Eddie and she broke into a smile. “Eddie, I’ve told you a hundred times you don’t need to knock!” She said cheerfully, before noticing Stan standing by Eddie’s side. “Stanley Uris! It’s been a long time, son!”

“It’s good to see you, Mrs Tozier.” Stan said happily, moving forward to hug her lightly. “Is Richie home? We wanted to make sure he was feeling okay, since he left school early.”

A tense expression crossed Maggie’s face as Eddie fidgeted from foot to foot. “He’s in the living room.” She said, and Eddie quickly pushed into the house and rushed there without even taking off his shoes. He skidded into the living room, Richie sitting against the couch, knees pulled up with Riley sitting and gurgling at him his lap. He was beaming down at him, and- as usual- it took Richie a moment to pull his face away from his daughter’s face to greet his guest. “Hey, Eds!”

“Richie, I’m sorry-” Eddie started, but he knew he wouldn’t get any real chance to warn Richie of anything. He watched the panic cross Richie’s face as he recognized the voice speaking to his mother in the entrance way, but there was nothing either of them could do because Stan was coming into the living room.

Stan froze, staring at Richie, at Riley. His eyes were wide, and it was some sort of expression that Eddie had never seen on the cool, collected face of Stanley Uris. “Holy shit… Richie.” He breathed out, taking another step into the room.

Richie exchanged a quick look with Eddie, who moved forward to take Riley into his arms without a word. He sat down onto the couch, holding the baby girl to his chest. She was more than content to be held by Eddie, but it was still clear that her eyes were searching for her father. Eddie’s were, too, really as he glanced over his shoulder at where Richie and Stan were standing in front of one another.

Richie didn’t say a word, just shrugged one shoulder. Eddie couldn’t see Richie’s face, couldn’t read his expressions, but Stan’s face was flooded with emotion as he moved forward and pulled Richie into himself. Hand cupped to the back of Richie’s head as Richie folded against him. Stan closed his eyes for a moment, before they opened and met Eddie’s.

Eddie smiled sadly at him, as Riley’s fingers curled around Eddie’s fist. Stan’s gaze fell down to the baby and he pulled away from Richie. “Wow…” He said quietly as he stepped forward and lowered himself down beside Eddie on the couch. His hand came out and rested on Riley’s small stomach, completely captivated by her. Not that Eddie could blame him.

“This is Miss Riley Tozier,” Richie said quietly, kneeling in front of his friends and his daughter. His eyes were watery. “And she’s everything.”

#reddie #reddie fic #my writing #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #trw #:DD #we were productive today fellas #i feel good

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Collateral

He lost all grip on reality, drifting away into the dark of his mind.

Prompt 42

…

Unthreatening and unimportant to the guards downstairs mention of a delivery to the Stark Tower granted you easy access and straight up you went holding the manila folder in your hands that your fingers tapped against. The long ride ended with you exiting the lift straight into a main lobby across from a living room where you spotted the curious dark haired Prince now looking up from his book resting in his palm that snapped shut in his rise to his feet. Far from a stranger to him he showed no uncertainty as to who you were or who you would be here to see. He left his book aside drawing the eye of the now publicly well known Wanda cuddled up next to Vision. The pair watching as the Prince approached you looking you over approvingly in your slightly more formal appearance over the usual waitress uniform he equated you with in all his daydreams.

Softly he stated hoping to not be overheard, “Miss Pear, this is a surprise.”

Instantly in a huff your brows furrowed making his brows twitch inwards in confusion at your seemingly rehearsed firm statement of, “I’m here to talk to your brother, his lady friend who I don’t know the name of, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark.”

After a moment of confusion he replied seeing your expression was holding clearly hinting at your bubbling anger demanding to be vented. “My apologies but they will not return until tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you said wetting your lips as the duo on the couch now stood to cross to you, but you continued on, “I’m sorry for how I’m saying this to you but this is how I rehearsed it and I have to get it out before I lose my nerve.” He gave you a nod to continue on.

“Thanks to your brother and his friends and their stops into the diner I’ve been evicted from my apartment,” parting the Prince’s lips.

“In this envelope is a copy of every meal check they’ve skipped out on to go ‘save the planet’ and everything broken by your brother and his lady friend that got taken out of my paycheck! I was short on rent for the past three months and even with extra shifts I couldn’t cover the daily fees added until it was paid off so I got kicked out. And when I asked my boss if they could give me a bump on a check to get funds to help move to a new place they fired me. It’s copies of all the receipts including price for all the missed rent, fees, moving truck and a storage place with six months wages compensation because I wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for those jackasses!”

You huffed and kindly handed him the packet now noticing his smirk while Wanda and Vision processed all you had said about their friends. “I mean you can’t really be the only person on the planet from Asgard who understands how to behave in public dining settings and manners towards people working in service. I highly doubt that but if it is I am truly sorry for how absurd your home planet must seem compared to our little planet.”

After a glance around the room you said, “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get back to just make a lecture that will be on my midterm Friday. And I’m taking these.” You said taking Steve’s shield you slung over your shoulder before lifting Thor’s hammer off the hook he had left it on before their golfing weekend getaway. “As collateral, in the packet is a bank account they can wire the money into. They have three days or I’m selling these on eBay.” You shifted on your feet, “Oh, and if your brother and his lady friend try to pay me in some obscure relic, chandelier or painting from your planet I’m throwing his stupid hammer off a bridge, and no, I’m not going to tell him which one either! He’s just gonna have to check them all!”

Loki raised a finger, “One thing,” one of his doubles came out of Tony’s office holding an obscure wooden cube hiding the backup of Jarvis’ system he passed over to you along with a gym bag for the belongings to hide them in, “Take these. Should hasten things along.”

“Thank you,” You said earning a nod from him after shouldering the bag holding it all.

“Don’t mention it. Do let me know if you need help securing a new place to stay.”

You nodded and when the lift opened again you said as you entered it, “I also wouldn’t be against you hitting them with something in their sleep either. Just saying,” Making him chuckle and give you a wave in the doors closing before he turned back to the couch grinning unable to wait until the guys got back from their trip. Bought his book was left aside and he began to look again on his tablet at the list of saved properties he had considered purchasing again.

Wanda glanced from the packet Vision had opened to check just how much funds the four had robbed you of and cost you in their carelessness. Turning to go back to the living room with Vision hovering behind her as if on a tether in her asking, “You gave her Tony’s statue? He never lets anyone touch that.”

“For good reason,” Loki replied expanding one of the listings he had taken the most interest in for himself and your own needs.

“The guys will not take this well you handing over their goods to a woman you have taken a liking to.”

To which Loki replied, “I am in love with her, there is a difference, and those four have left her unemployed and homeless.”

Wanda nodded and said, “Fair enough.” Turning to join Vision in looking at the itemized receipts and fee list with labeled copies of receipts on sheets behind the main list page. The staggering amount had Wanda’s hands turning read and storming off, “I’m shrinking and hiding all their things! She didn’t take nearly enough of their things!”

Vision stated in leaving the packet on the coffee table, “I will hide the car collection.” Flying off to the garage through the building floor and the several before he reached the vast garage.

Loki couldn’t spend too long lingering on the thought of what you would experience knowing he felt too strongly for you. Surely it would be his end. If he didn’t others would only see him as he lost all grip on reality, drifting away into the dark of his mind. No, he would focus on finding a suitable home he could present to you to start your future possibly down the hall from him, if not closer. Certain that not a moment could be lost the full price was transferred and paperwork signed. With keys in hand for the apartment while his doubles were out to purchase his furniture for his room and study he stood waiting, outside your classroom in the breezeway. And after a bit of sleuthing, or simply teleporting outside the door separating him from the ‘cool keychain’ he had given you for your birthday hiding a traditional Asgardian Coupling stone. That matching the one he kept on his person always to know if you were in danger also enabling you to be brought by Heimdall through the Bifrost if you had been in danger for sanctuary.

The clock chimed at the hour marker and out your classmates flowed with you adorably at the rear fumbling your books back into your schoolbag. A dropped notepad was caught and when your eyes rose to meet that of the man who had caught in you grinned curiously at the Prince, “Loki? What are you doing here?”

Offering you a key he said, “I have an apartment, a duplex really. I would like to offer a place for you to move into.”

“But, it’s your apartment. I thought you wanted to get out yourself, don’t waste it on me.”

“It is no waste. Besides, I am offering you half of the duplex.”

“Oh,” you said brushing your hair back behind your ear anxiously blushing faintly, “Like, together, so we’d be-,”

“Sharing it, yes. It is ready to move in today if you have not secured housing.”

“Well, I, was just going to sleep, in my car.”

“Absolutely not. That is unacceptable you cannot rest adequately in your car.” His eyes looked over your face then he said a bit softer in hopes of goading you to accepting his offer, “Should you not have any more classes might you agree to inspect the building?”

“I, sure.” His hand extended and your lips parted triggering your dig into your pocket to bring out your car key you left in his palm then joined him for the walk to the parking lot.

Within the hour a snap of his fingers had your storage locker emptied fully into your half of the duplex with furniture assembling itself and things heading for their new homes around you while the paperwork was burned and your funds refunded in the system that erased you right after having done so. From your car the essentials were floated in next and unable to look at the kind Prince you carried your bag of collateral to the table behind your couch in the living room. The sudden opening of the front door had your eyes snap up to spot five doubles strolling in with shrunken furniture floating behind them carrying them to Loki’s delegated rooms with another carrying boxes of his clothes and books from his room in the tower.

In the silence Loki sat on your couch grinning as he inspected the decorations and furniture you had chosen fitting to his imagined style you chose to dwell in. Around the couch you walked and sat on the cushion beside him tangling your fingers together on your lap. With eyes fixed on your knees you asked, “Is this like a friends, roommate thing, or, not?”

From the painting on the wall his face turned to look you over and leaning in he scooted closer reaching out to brush your hair out of your face making your head turn and his chest clench in seeing the pinking of your eyes signaling tears were coming. “Not.”

“But, I,”

Trailing his curled fingers along your jaw he stated, “This will never happen again. I will ensure that the damages and costs are refunded to you. No one will do this again.”

After a sniffle you said, “Obviously not, I’ve been fired.”

Fully cupping your cheek to stroke a thumb across your cheek with a lovingly protective gaze he replied, “No matter your new profession, this will never happen again.”

Shifting your lips in thought your eyes sank and you said, “You’ve already moved my things in, but I can’t say when I could get a job again.”

“Good, focus on your studies.”

“But,”

“No buts, because once you get those degrees I could bring you to Asgard to intern there.” Your lips parted and he raised a finger on his free hand, “No arguments. As if I would allow this planet to squander a mind such as yours. Asgard has been a topic of interest and curiosity for many of our conversations, allow us to show you its wonders, and what we have to offer to further your studies. Besides, any able to wield Mjolner is welcome to citizenship on Asgard.”

“Wield what?” he chuckled lowly and you said, “You know what, I don’t want to know. That way if you take me I can deny it plausibly if that’s a bad thing to someone.”

Smirking to himself he purred, “I will order supper, you relax.”

Dinner led to a try for a film together leaving you snuggled across the couch sleeping soundly until a freak lightning storm surrounded Stark Tower was powerful enough to set off alarms two counties over where Loki’s double hushed your car alarm through a peek through the window. Smirking in his glance out into the distant lingering storm while you pulled your cuddle buddy by the wrist to your bed to continue your rest since it wouldn’t be arriving for a week.

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @sdavid09

#Loki x Reader #Tale Teller’s 52 Week Writing Challenge

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millennial-star-gazer · 5 years

Text

Fire And Gold: Chapter: 1: A Simple Spark (Nalu lovefest 2019)

Fire and Gold

Nalu Lovefest 2019 Prompts: Magic, Memories, Reckless, Worship & Cravings (All Implied)

Genres: Romance, Humor, New Adult Fanfiction

Pairing: Nalu/Endlu (Natsu x Lucy & E.n.d. Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: T-M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You've been warned!)

Summary: Let the day be known when fire tested gold in the most intimate sense. The forging of a mating bond between the dragon-demon hybrid and celestial maiden while further strengthening the relationship they already have. Natsu finally confesses his romantic feelings for Lucy at and asks to claim her as his mate and queen; though not without it taking a bit for it to fully sink in for the poor, baffled woman. The first chapter is one of my entries for @nalulovefestofficial 2019 and part of my ongoing Nalu (The Demon-Dragon and His Celestial Princess) anthology series set not too long after the events of the original manga/anime.(Slight Au).

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Chapter 1 : A Simple Spark

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A/N: Hey peeps, I'm back! You miss me lol? Anyway, this time I'm coming at you with the first chapter of my one new Nalu fics, (Fire And Gold) which is also an entry for Nalu Love Fest 2019. ( @nalulovefestofficial). Fun Fact: This fic along with Tantric Flames and other upcoming Nalu WIPS are now part of my ongoing The Demon-Dragon and His Celestial Princess (TDDACP) anthology series (slight au) with Fire and Gold set before the rest- a prequel of sorts. Course, this entire series is a slight au on account of it being set not too long after the events of the original Fairytail manga/anime and other reasons as you may all know. Please see the summary, A/N at the end of this chapter or Tantric Flames for more info. Anyways, I don't have too much else to say here. A special shoutout to the fantastic @bmarvels, ( @bmarvels) @doginshoe ( @doginshoe) and @goddesofimortality ( @goddesofimortality) (tumblr) for taking the time to help me proofread, edit, and further develop this chapter—thanks guys! Oh and an extra kudos to, Brit ( @bmarvels) who provided great suggestions for the title of this fic, chapter title and literary quote (which include all of those that you see here. Thanks again girl! Anyways, I'll let you all get on with the story. Without further ado, here is Chapter 1 of Fire and Gold! Enjoy!

(Note: Scroll down past the cut/read more button for the links and actual chapter).

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Disclaimer: I don't own Fairytail which instead belongs to the one and only Hiro-sensei instead!

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Read More Fire And Gold On Here and Other Platforms

If reading this on the desktop, then copy and paste the links into another window on your browser.

1. Fire And Gold

A. Tumblr

Chapter: 1 Next:(Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/189326665518/fire-and-gold-chapter-2)

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13410012/1/Fire-and-Gold)

C. A03 (Click Here:) (or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20851052)

2. Master Rec Post Of All My Writing(Click Here) or here:

(https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post)

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Legend

Italics: Flashback/literary or song quotes (If Any For The the Most Former)

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: empathized word

Bolded Italics: outside of main story): A/N

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"He felt now that he was not simply close to her,

but that he did not know where he ended and she began."

(Leo Tolstoy: Chapter XIV in Part V Of Anna Karina)

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"I love you ."

"Oh hey, Natsu. Sorry— couldn't quite hear you over all the commotion. Can you repeat that please?"

Lucy turned to face her coral-haired best friend whose onyx eyes met her gaze; with what only could be described as genuine earnest; Most often seen when a critical weighed heavy on his mind—- aka a stark contrast to her cordial interest. She wasn't fibbing in her request for Nastu to reiterate his previous statement either — what with the whole guild being abuzz from the usual activity and all. Anyone who cared to listen in would most likely hear the various conservations between other guild members: Warren bemoaning to Max about his "complete and utter lack of a non-existent sex life— the hell man? I'm a freakin' dreamboat!"

Said sandmage's less -than - complimentary - quip of "if you're calling yourself a 'dreamboat', then no wonder none of the ladies aren't exactly jumping at the chance for a hookup. Hell, pretty sure I'd much rather be forced to look at picture of Ichyia in-assless-chaps-riding -a- gay unicorn than knock boots with you regardless of whether I was female or into dudes. "

"Fuck you man!"

"What does a chump like you know about getting laid anyway? "

"Lot more than you think, ya' piece of—- yeowwww! The hell dipshit?! Did you just ram a broom-handle up my ass?!"

"Yeah? So what if I did? What exactly are you gonna do about it?"

Elfman's crow from the sidelines about how "settling your differences with fists is so freakin' manly!" Macao and Wakaba squabbling over who "the rightful owner" of a much-coveted, lottery ticket was— typical chatter, really.

Not that any of this matters at the moment when Natsu’s trying to talk to me.

Nastu on the other hand, didn't pay the background noise any heed; who instead letting his eyes stay trained on Lucy.

"I really do wanna hear what you have to say. What were you trying to tell me?"

"Okay," he let out a measured breath, as if steeling his nerves, "Just wanted to say that I love you."

"Aw Natsu—I love you too! " the celestial mage gushed, touched by the dragonslayer's sentiment even it was a little out of the blue. " it's kinda out of the blue that you're telling me this— but I appreciate it just the same. There's no one better I could have as one my best —".

"No Luce," Natsu cut his blonde partner off with a slight shake of his head—- extremely perplexing to say the least. "That isn't what I meant."

"Okay... what did you mean? Lucy questioned, the intensity of the fire wizard's gaze sending her pulse racing."

"Something else" came his sober reply . "Not to say that you're not one of my best friends or that I don't consider myself extremely lucky to have ya' in my life— but my feelings aren't exactly the platonic kind. Hasn't been for a while. Guess what I'm trying to say is I'm in love with you."

Natsu's last words really threw the key- holder for a loop.

"W-wait? What?" was all she could utter in response with an owlish blink.

What he's saying? I mean, yeah, I'm totally head-over-heels in love with the dude— but he can't possibly feel the same way, right?

"I don't understand..."

"Still not sinking in yet, huh? Fine— I don't have a problem with repeating what I said if that helps."

"You don't?"

"No. I…"Natsu began to reiterate, enunciating each and every word with deliberate precision. "Nastu Dragneel, am in love with you Lucy Heartifila— as in head over heels."

"No, no, no, you can't be!" Lucy was still in vehement self-denial; or should she says her, poor addled-brain was short circuiting from trying to process her teammate's words. Not to mention how mortifying the heated-infused blood she could feel rising in her cheeks was. "You're my best friend and I'm not exactly the only single woman here. Far prettier girls here if you ask me—pick of the lot. No, you can't be in love with me—- just no way."

"Oh for the love—"

The celestial mage swore she caught a glimpse of slanted brows above scorching emerald fire in Salamander's eyes before his mouth was smashing down on hers in a searing kiss ; Needless to say, said female was caught completely off guard. Still, smooth lips were moving against hers with such insistent urgency that the mage couldn't help but automatically respond in with just spirited vigor; even during a rowdy chorus of catcalls, whistles and cheers heard from onlookers that she vaguely registered.

Natsu's hand meanwhile was instinctively pressing on the small of Lucy's back; while the other arm snaked around her waist to pull her flusher against him. Just as hers circled together around the nape of his neck at the same time. The next thing the celestial mage knew he was further deepening the kiss by running his tongue along the seam of her bottom lip; that was then being sucked into his mouth. Not only was the tactic tantalizing enough to light sparks of in Lucy's blood, but it also drew an airy moan out of her; which was more than well received by Natsu who growled in approval against her lips sending a tingly shiver down her spine.

My God is he a stellar kisser! Was all the only thought that crossed the summoner 's mind could; before all else was scattered by the insatiable fire wizard's velvet tongue slipping past her lips. The sensation of his tongue massaging hers though before sweeping/dragging along the roof of her mouth; Oh and a heady suck on Lucy's own for good measure—- all of that was what the stars were behind the mage's shut eyes were bursting from. Not to mention the rush of liquid heat between her legs.

More, more, more, Lucy craved more—- drowning in the ecstasy of it all, courtesy of Natsu. The fire-breather's defined leg wedging between the gaps her thighs, her fingers through his hair with a snug grip. Supple, masculine, hands all over creamy skin before skating down to—

"A-hem..."

The distinct noise of awkward throat clearing along with dry coughs of "a freakin' room you two— get one" from one nauseated-sounding Gray burst the pair's intimate little bubble. The blonde-haired member of the two meanwhile, just barely managed to bite back a noise of protest when the other pulled back ever so slightly.

"Huh—- looks like we got a little carried away just now" Nastu panted with a chuckle, though there didn't seem any hint of sheepish repentance in his voice at all — quite the opposite actually. More like he was extremely pleased with the turnout of events, if the smug grin spreading across his lips was anything to go by.

"Yeah—I'll say," came Lucy's reply, voice coming out a little ragged. Mavis knows that the euphoric high of the kiss was still singing in her veins. Not to mention the Natsu's forehead touching against hers; along with onyx-green piercing thrift honey-brown that the zodiac wielder swore she could get lost in too— profoundly intimate beyond words.

It's like he can see straight into my soul.

"Definitely attracted an audience."

"An audience, she says?" Cana's voice broke in from somewhere on the sidelines; which was practically dripping with dry sarcasm. "Gee—I wonder why."

"Yeah, me thinks our dear friend Lu stated the obvious" came Levy's wry quip." She did."

"Those two did get pretty hot and heavy," Lexus put in as a thoughtful observation. "Gotta hand it to Natsu though— dude has major kissing game."

"That's for sure" Gajeel concurred, sounding impressed." He managed to get bunny girl all hot just now. And she's clearly no slouch when it comes to kissin' either."

"Really?" The ice wizard cut in, with what sounded like a derisive snort." Cuz I beg to differ. I mean Lucy, sure, she did a great job. But lava - breath?! Watching him suck face was beyond nauseating! Ugh... So much cringe—pretty sure I just puked in my mouth just now. Anyone got some bleach on hand to permanently burn the gag-worthy image from my retinas?"

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Fic Tag Squad: @fuck-yeah-nalu @fortheloveoffandomevents @nalubookclub @nalulovefestofficial @nalulovefestofficial @fuck-yeah-nalu @nalubookclub @fortheloveoffandomevents @nalulovefestofficial @fuck-yeah-nalu @nalubookclub @fortheloveoffandomevents

@petri808 @magnolia726 @ccrispy

@yukimcffblog @yukimcffblog @writer-appreciation

@caandleworks @caandlle @rougeminded @rougescribe @cobblepottantrum @lovelyluce @dark0angel13 @sovay-says @soprana-snap @phoenix-before-the-flame @phoneboxfairy

@narutoyaoifan @mautrino @goddesofimortality @nalufever @thecelestialchick @nalu-natic @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate @goddesofimortality @dark0angel13 @kaychawrites @kaycha1989

@pyroandtheprincess @mautrino @lucielhyung @smappybubbles @seehunnybees @lover-of-the-light117@rayhneatess @nothingbutwordsstuff @shootingstarssel @chamilsanya @acidrain1698 @chamilsanya @narutoyaoifan @superfreakerz @hazel-got-fanfiction

@nalu-natic @thecelestialchick @nalufever @moeruhoshi @h-eartfilias @lemonade-of-gods @fairywithajetblackheart @katana-no-neko @mercurius-orion @nunnatheinsanegerbil @bearpluscat @shootingstarssel @kayty-of-fiore @narutoyaoifan @kaycha1989 @chiire @pyroandtheprincess @lovelyluce @sovay-says @satyrykal @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @phoneboxfairy @phoenix-before-the-flame @yukimcffblog @mwub @bmarvels @doginshoe @shadyhydrathesnekqueen @impracticaldemon @mwub @sugarpolis @precenna @ravendaydream @bearandbirdfan @bearpluscat @ineffable-nalu @ineffable-nalu @mercurius-orion

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A/N: That's the first chapter of Fire & Gold folks! Hope you enjoyed and feel free to let me know what you think! Now for a little background info on this fic and rest of the TDDACP anthology series including tantric flames) for those who are wondering. As stated previously, TDDACP that's set shortly after the events of the original Fairytail and 100 years quest in a way (which explains how the series is slightly AU and canon divergent). Team Natsu managed to successfully complete the century quest in a matter of a few months which enabled resume their normal lives at the guild. Natsu is still a dragonslayer-demon hybrid with full access to his dragonslayer and etherious magic that he can tap into from either mode . Moreover, all elements of his heritage can play a major influence on his personality and strength as wizard (among other aspects). Anyways, said wizard is fully aware that he's head over heels for Lucy though finally worked up the courage to confess as seen in this chapter. I'd like to point to point out that Natsu technically being an etherious dragonslayer -demon hybrid is still pretty much established canon based on what we've seen in the anime/manga series (including in 100 years quest during that battle with Ignea).

Same goes for Nalu being mutually and passionately in love and other with all the types of passion attraction that comes from it- the physical and sexual types included (even if they have yet to fully confess). (Sidenote: Levy is still expecting but isn't that far along in her pregnancy yet). All in all , this pretty much sums up why this series is only slightly au and canon divergent. Hope this background information provides enough insight to you all!

In other news: major bummer about the Fairytail anime-aka one of my favourite animes/manga series ending for now, huh? I mean talk about there being a major void in our hearts now lol. That said, we still have 100 years quest, city heros, Eden's Zero along with that giant crossover manga(Fairytail, EZ, and Rave Master combined) which are all excellent series for us to continue to enjoy and look forward to! Plus, there's a great chance of that animated FT sequel/ 100 year quest anime adaption being in the works based on what we've been hearing.

Anyways, pretty much said all that I wanted to for now folks ! Don't forget to let me know what you think, like, reblog and share! Oh and be sure to stay tuned for the next chapter and more Nalu Wips. Feel free to check out the rest of my writing, my other lovefest entry (Chapter 8 of Tantric) and those from the other amazing participants as well! (Corresponding links are above, in the navigation bar and bio if reading this on tumblr. See other writing platforms for links as well! ) All right, that's all for now folks ! Until next time— take care!

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snapchattingnct · 5 years

Text

Champagne Giggles

Park Jisung x Reader

Genre: Mafia!au, fluff

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: underage drinking, minor religion mentioned

Notes: This was definitely supposed to be posted early but college started again and I got busy. But here’s my take on the “Champagne Giggles” prompt for @neowritingsnet Summer Writing Fest. It’s not 100% to my complete satisfaction but my sisters urged me to finish and post it so here it is~

Lifting the glass of champagne up his lips, Jisung admired the painting that was held up for display before him. His eyes touched over every inch of the canvas, taking note of each brush stroke and the colors that were carefully blended together. While the colors were much more muted, having had faded away through the many years, the painting was still stunning.

Many of the people around him gushed and fawned over the artwork but he simply kept quiet as a sudden idea popped into his head. Without a second thought, Jisung pulled out his phone from within is his suit jacket. Pressing the phone to his ear, he continued to casually sip at his champagne, eyes surveying the rest of the art hall.

On the third ring, a loud voice answered back, “Yah, what do you want?”

“Have you gotten Mark anything for his birthday yet?” Jisung questioned as he eyed the painting in front of him with a smile. “Because if you haven’t. I think I just found the perfect gift.”

“Ohhhh,” Chenle hummed, interested caught. But then pausing, he asked, “Wait. Aren’t you at that dumb art exhibit in Positano?”

“Yup. It’s not that far of a drive. You’re already in Italy.”

He was met with silence on the other line. Continuing to sip at his champagne, Jisung waited for the information to register. Not long after, he was met with a resounding, ‘ohh’ before it increased in both volume and pitch. Chenle’s words soon became inaudible as he continued to shriek and scream on the other line in excitement. “Oh man, this is going to be so much fun! I’ll see you soon. I knew Positano was a good option. ”

Chenle had announced his presence with a hard clap on to Jisung’s back, startling him and nearly making him spill the champagne in his hands. Glaring the boy down, Jisung complained, “Give me a heads up next time when you’re going to do something like that!”

The orange haired boy simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Then turning his attention to the painting that Jisung was so invested in, Chenle whistled lowly. “Is that The Last Supper?”

“Nope,” Jisung replied. Then shrugging his shoulders in a similar fashion that the other boy had done before he added, “It’s about the closest you’ll actually get to the original one anyways. The real one would be harder to steal. Since it’s not just a painting but whole drywall that was painted on. Imagine trying to smuggle that out of anywhere.”

“Bummer,” Chenle pouted.

“Hey, there’s literally only two copies of The Last Supper in the whole world. The important ones anyways. One painted by Cesare de Sesto, but that’s in Switzerland. And then this one, here, painted by Giampietrino.”

Rolling his eyes, Chenle said, “I came here to help you steal a painting, not get a history lesson on it.”

“Yeah, well at least know what you’re even stealing, Chenle.”

“I came here to steal a painting for Mark’s birthday gift and that’s it’s literally the perfect gift for our Christian boy.” He grinned widely, eyes gleaming with uncontainable excitement. Leaning in closer he whispered, “So what’s the plan? Are two people enough to pull off this heist? Because the last time we tried to pull a heist off with the two of us, it didn’t end too well...”

Groaning at the memory of their failed heist in Austria, Jisung shook his head. “Please don’t remind me. That was one of the most embarrassing fails I’ve ever done in my whole life.”

“Trust me, I feel the same way too. That’s why I’m bringing it up, because I don’t want an incident like that to happen again.”

With a sigh, Jisung nodded. “Well, it would be ideal for there to be another person… but no one else is available. They’re all arriving in Italy tonight…”

Then as if the heavens above had heard their dilemma, someone suddenly came up behind the two of him, silent as a mouse, saying, “I can help.”

You watched in amusement as the two boys jumped at the sound of your voice, their eyes blown into saucers as they stared back at you as if they were a deer caught in the headlights.

Frantically waving his hands in front of him, the taller boy smiled awkwardly, “No, no. It’s okay. You didn’t hear anything.”

“Oh, but I heard everything,” you countered back with a smile. “And I want in.”

“We have no idea what you’re talking about…” The taller boy continued to stutter out.

“We’re stealing The Last Supper for your friend right? You need a third person for the job and I can be that person.”

Just as the taller boy was about to open his mouth and protest again, the shorter one, countered, “How can we trust you?”

“You can’t,” you smiled back at them in amusement. “Well you can, but knowing you two, you won’t trust me one bit even if I prove my innocence and loyalty to you. But what I can do is buy the two of you some time and give you the blueprint to this entire building, how does that sound?”

You watched as the two of them share a look and a moment of silence passed before the taller one turned around and extended his hand out to you. “Pleasure to work with you. I’m Jisung.”

Wrapping your fingers around his, you gave his hand a small squeeze. “Hmm, I know.”

After exchanging the basic pleasantries, the three of you ended up discussing the heist in some empty room of the art exhibit hall. Of course it was closed off to the public and locked but that was nothing too hard for Chenle to pick into. It was a basic lock, nothing fancy. So all that it took to crack it open was using the classic paper clip method. Child’s play, really.

When the door clicked open, you weren’t even surprised. The moment that you had spotted Jisung hanging around in the art exhibit near The Last Supper for way too long, you figured he was planning something. And it became even more evident that he was full of mischief from the way that he kept glancing around the room, checking every exit and taking in all the securities in the room. Then came Chenle, who was a little too loud for such events like these. And when they huddled together, still standing before the famous replica, you had caught them.

It was about time that something a little exciting happened around here anyways. You loved art but that didn’t mean that you could stand around all day and watch these paintings and not get bored. The two boys were the perfect distraction that you’ve been wanting all day long to happen.

With the building’s blueprints spread out on the table before them, you all began strategizing their game plan.

“Okay, there’s a total of three main exits to the gallery room that houses the painting.” You pointed out as your fingers traced the paper. “But there’s also a private back door that only staff or security is allowed to use to leave. And there’s two vents directly above the painting that leads to the back exit.”

Nodding along as you spoke, Jisung commented, “So the vents are going to be our game plan. Where is the entrance and is there any security cameras?”

“The ventilation system is pretty basic, so it just cuts around the whole building in a loop. You can enter where you can exit. So you can use the back exit from the camera room to get in.” You told him. “As for cameras, you don’t have to worry about the main ones. I can handle those. The one that you will need to worry about is the hidden one out back. It’s out of range for me to control. A separate security company handles all of the ones outside.”

“I got it,” Chenle said with a smile, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Then perfect!” Clapping your hands together, you pulled the blueprint from the table and began to roll it back up. “Sounds like an easy heist, no?”

“A piece of cake.”

It truly was a piece of a cake. It was way too easy.

Not to mention, it made the whole job a lot easier since the exhibition hall was now closed for the night with only the hall’s manager and two security guards patrolling.

It barely took five minutes for you to disable all of security cameras within the building and subbing blank recording over it. And it took Chenle less than five minutes to break past the firewalls and take charge of the cameras outside of the building.

Giving Jisung and you a thumbs up, Chenle grinned brightly, “Let’s get this.”

Next thing you knew, you were crawling in the hot vents, sweating buckets as Jisung led the way in front of you. Chenle had used his magic and managed to shut down the entire air conditioning system so that you and Jisung could crawl through the vents. But with no air blowing, it was extremely hot and suffocating in the vents.

You had changed out of your evening dress into a set of spare work clothes you had in your locker, consisting of a pair of black pants and polo shirt. Meanwhile, Jisung didn’t have that kind of luxury and was crawling through the vents still in his suit. How the boy was doing that and still living and breathing? You didn’t have a single clue because it was hot as hell.

Within your earpiece, you listened as Chenle continued to give you both live updates on any movement in the cameras. “Coast is cleared. When you hit the next section, take the left vent and it’ll lead you directly right above the air vent of The Last Supper.”

“This is as easy as taking candy from a baby.” Jisung muttered in front of you. Then turning around to face you, he asked, “Why don’t you guys have better security around here? I mean you guys are housing some of the world’s most priceless pieces of artwork. You would think security would be more than than two lousy, lanky security guards.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you said, “Couldn’t tell you. I’m just the receptionist here.”

“Also, they really did not do a good background check on you if you’re up here climbing through the vents to help some random strangers steal a piece of artwork.” Jisung smiled before adding, “You’re completely over qualified to be a receptionist.”

“Why thank you. And I say the same thing every time someone argues with me over the prices of our exhibition tickets.” You laughed.

In the short amount of time that you had met Jisung, you found that he was even more of a sweetheart than expected. He had the cutest nose scrunches and he had the prettiest eyes. Each time that he would smile or laugh, his eyes turned into cute, moon shaped crescents. And it was simply adorable. He was nothing but a stuttering mess at first but the moment he had warmed up to you, he wouldn’t stop talking. Not that you minded anyways.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, Jisung tapped you on your shoulders, handing you the flashlight as he did so. “Alright, we’re here.”

True to his words, as the both of you looked down through the grate of the vents, you saw the painting in all of its glory.

Carefully unscrewing the vent’s opening, Jisung lifted it, setting the piece of metal to the side. Then tossing you the rope, he told you, “Hold on tight. I may have eaten a slice of pizza too many before coming here.”

With a roll of your eyes, you wrapped the rope around your hands and anchored it to the vent. “I’m sure I’ll manage, pizza boy.”

For a boy his height and statue, Jisung swung down from the vents with ease. He was in his element one hundred percent just as Chenle was when he hacked into the security cameras.

Jisung was barely halfway down the vent when Chenle’s voiced began yelling in your earpiece. “Oh crap! The manager’s coming back through for some reason! He’s moving from his office and heading in the direction of the exhibit hall. Eta four minutes.”

Yanking on the rope gently, you urged Jisung to move quicker. “You heard Chenle right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jisung waved his hand dismissing your distressed call. “I got this. We’ll be gone before his hand touches the door handle.”

“Well at the rate that you’re going, I don’t know about that.” As the words left your lips, Jisung had already reached the painting.

Jisung sent you a smug smile over his shoulder as he pulled on the rope, his hands grasping the painting with the sound of Chenle’s frantic talking coming from your earpiece. “You guys need to get out of there asap. The manager is literally twelve steps away from the door.”

Mustering as much strength as you could, you began tugging on the rope, grasping it tightly with both of your hands. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins as your heart thundered within your chest. The thrill was too much and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud in excitement.

“Oh my gosh, stop laughing and get out of there before he comes in!” Chenle screeched loudly, his breath coming out unevenly in your ears. The poor boy was nearly on the verge of hyperventilating. “Five more steps!”

The both of you were barely able to keep your laughter to a low volume when you finally pulled Jisung back up into the vent and quickly shutting the air vent’s door as you did so.

The moment Jisung opened the vent’s door to the camera room, Chenle was already on his feet and unhooking all the wires from his computer, packing up at the light of speed. Chenle was nothing but a blubbering mess as Jisung helped you down from the vent, along with the painting in hand.

“They’re outside, right in the back. I completely disabled all the cameras for the next two minutes and thirty six seconds. And we have exactly one minute and forty five seconds before the manager comes barrelling in here to check the tapes once he notices that the painting is gone.”

Quickly tossing Jisung the screwdriver, Chenle added, “Screw the vent back on. Grab everything and lets go.”

You watched with immense fascination at how fast the two boys cleaned the place up, making it seemed like no one was ever in the room in the first place. Within seconds, the room looked spotless and Jisung grabbed you by the shoulders, pushing you out the door. When the three of you stumbled out the door, a sleek, black limo was already waiting out back.

There wasn’t much time to fawn over the car as Chenle yanked the door open and ushered you all inside hurriedly, glancing over his shoulder nervously. But the moment that the three of you made it safely inside the limo, stumbling in as a mess of lanky limbs and a huge oil painting, Chenle broke out into a high pitched laugh. Cheering loudly, he banged on the divider and told the driver to take it away.

Besides you, Jisung couldn’t help but send a huge smile your way before reaching across and giving Chenle a loud high five, the impact echoing in the car. Then sharing a look, the boys made eye contact for a brief moment before they turned their attention to the other person in the car. “Happy belated birthday Mark!”

A young man dressed to the nines in his deep burgundy suit, who was no more than a couple years older than you, shook his head, smiling and said, “You guys are completely unbelievable.” Then passing each of them a flute of champagne, he toasted, “Here’s to another successful heist you wild kiddos.”

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