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h2bakugou · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if I have sent a request before but here I go anyways, can I request a head cannon for the three musketeers (todobakudeku) (separate) when their s/o flinches during and argument. No rush and take your time thank you!

a/n: thank you for the request even if you haven't sent one in before! i haven’t written some angst in a bit but i’ll try to give these a happy ending!!

headcanon: their s/o flinches during an argument

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, some angst

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shoto todoroki

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Todoroki doesn’t like arguing with you. He finds arguing quite pointless. There are more civil ways to come to an understanding but yelling at one another just sounds like a waste of time.

He’d much rather prefer to sit down and discuss things with you, listening to what you have to say and saying what he believes.

But there are some rare times where some arguments just form out of nowhere.

This particular argument is about nothing in particular.

It would be like having an argument over someone taking all the cover while they slept. Which is what Todoroki had claimed you were doing.

“We can get another blanket.” You smiled. The few times you’d actually slept together, seriously sleeping together, you might’ve taken all the blanket.

“It’s fine if you could just learn to share.” Todoroki mentioned, once again showing you how large the blanket was.

“I’m asleep and I’m cold, I’m sorry I’m taking all the blanket. I thought you had a half-hot side to keep you warm at night jeez.” Your stab wasn’t meant to mock him or his father, but Todoroki sure took it that way.

“You know how I feel about my left side.” Todoroki had finished folding the blanket, placing it back on your bed.

You couldn’t help but sigh. He was really making this a problem.

“It’s a blanket. You don’t have to lay with me if you get so cold at night.” You folded your arms over your chest. You really couldn’t believe you were arguing with your boyfriend over a blanket.

“I want to lay with you but being cold is quite a nuisance-”

“I’m sorry i take the damn blanket! Just take it back! Jeez, you are making this so much harder than it has to be Sho.” You cut him off, tired of having to fight over a blanket.

His next actions were what threw you off. He was silent and he turned away from you.

Scared you had overstepped, you reached out to touch his left shoulder right when it set ablaze, singeing his shirt.

Flinching away from him, you stumbled back onto your bed.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, looking down as you stared at your hand, red from the immense heat that had grazed over it. Worried that he’d burned you, Shoto quickly turned around, panicking.

“I apologize. Are you hurt? I didn’t burn you did I?” Todoroki examines your hand, completely off of the blanket subject.

“I’m fine-”

“No no. that was not fine. I overreacted. I’m sorry. My love, I’m so sorry.” Todoroki kissed the palm of your hand before placing it on his right side, holding it to his cheek, allowing his cool skin to ease the redness on your palm.

“Can we cuddle tonight?” You ask, a small smile on your lips.

“I promise to share the blanket.” You throw in, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

“Of course, my love.”

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

I’m not saying possessive Bakugou is a bad thing, because it’s not. But there are times when Bakugou can be a bit overbearing.

He’s not doing it on purpose by no means.

But I think deep down, he might struggle with insecurity. Everyone does.

He’s a pretty egotistical guy, and he’s cocky, and he’s got an attitude. But that doesn’t mean he has dark thoughts that creep into his head and tell him that no matter what he’ll never amount to anything great.

All that perseverance has to come from somewhere.

The argument sparks from you, Kirishima, and Kaminari all hanging out together.

“Hey babe, I’m back! Sorry, I’m late.” You smile, arriving at your scheduled hangout with Bakugou just a few minutes late.

“Oh yeah, how were Kirishima and Kaminari?” Bakugou asks, glaring at you as he stands up from sitting on his bed, patiently waiting for you.

“They were great like always-”

“So great you couldn’t send me a fucking text? Or pick up my calls?” Bakugou interrupts.

Your mouth hangs open at his response. You quickly grab your phone and examine that you did indeed have missed calls and texts from ‘katsu<3′ in your phone.

“I was helping clean up and by the time I was done, I was rushing over here. I didn’t do it on purpose.” You tell him, surely this was all some misunderstanding.

“Are they better than me? Do they have something I don’t? I’m the best there fucking is here babe, you aren’t gonna get shit from anyone else that you’ll get from me.” Bakugou approached you, causing you to take a step back.

When your back met the door you thought you were done for. The raised hand coming up, surely to strike you, made you flinch, cowering down as it crashed into the wooden door you were pressed against.

In those few seconds of silence, waiting for something to happen, Bakugou recoiled, snaking back a few steps, staring at your small form.

His words were quiet.

“I’m sorry.” He said. You lifted your head to look at him. His own head was lowered.

You approached him and carefully placed your hands on his shoulders.

“Katsu, there’s no one else but you. I love you. More than you probably know. I don’t need anyone else but you.” You explained, watching as his blonde locks began to rise with the movement of his head.

His crimson eyes stared into your (e/c) ones.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou wrapped his arms around you. Bakugou didn’t hate affection, but he did reserve himself. He only opened up to you like this in private. His ego was a bit too big to pull some sappy stunts out in public, but this was what mattered.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was just mad. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Bakugou whispered.

“I know you weren’t. I trust you.” You kiss his cheek, sliding your hands into his.

“Wanna get some pizza and watch a movie?”

“That sounds nice.” Bakugou rested his head on your shoulder, sure to be a bit soft for a while. He wasn’t always big and bad but soft Bakugou was still just as sweet.

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

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Bless his heart, he hates arguing.

He’s one hell of a hero, one hell of a fighter, and he’ll beat a bitch up if he needs to.

But with you, the thought of even having to raise his voice at you makes him worry. That’s not saying that he can’t but he doesn’t like arguing, not with you at least.

He cares about you, and he doesn’t want to hurt you.

Like Todoroki, he believes there are civil ways to resolve issues, and communication and understanding, and listening are big roles in avoiding arguments.

But when some of these factors fall through, chaos is sure to ensue.

There’s a bit of a fallout with communication when Deku accidentally sends the wrong time for your date.

It’s a mistake but it happens.

The argument isn’t terrible, but it pulls on the heartstrings.

Deku’s running late. By an hour. You’re all alone at the restaurant and for the first time, you’ve been stood up.

He’d been training with All Might and didn’t have his phone. So when he sees the texts, he’s instantly on his way to shower and get dressed.

But when he arrives, the waiter tells him that you’ve just left.

Determined to make it up to you, he tries to find you. You couldn’t have gone far.

Sure enough, you’re sitting on a bench in a nearby park, listening to the trickling water from a nearby fountain.

“(Y/n)!” Deku calls for you. You turn at your name and sigh when you see it’s Deku.

“Let me guess. You were training?” You could smell the fresh shower gel on him. You stood up to meet him.

“I was, I got my times mixed up.”

“I waited for an hour. You didn’t think to check your phone before starting training?” You ask, obviously hurt at his failure to inform you of the changed schedule.

It was an honest accident, and it felt kind of wrong to be mad, but at the same time, it still hurt.

“It was an accident!” Deku threw his hands up to try and explain but you flinched out of instinct. It wasn’t an instinct that Deku was going to hit you, but the instinct of fists coming at you. Something you’d just picked up from sparring matches.

“I-(Y/n). I’m sorry. I should’ve double-checked. Can you forgive me?” Deku quickly brought his hands down, lowering them and wrapping them around your waist to bring you in for a hug.

You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his touch.

“I’m sorry too. I overreacted.” You owed him an apology. And it was accepted, as well as Deku’s apology.

“We can reschedule the booking at the restaurant-”

“Takeout and cuddling sounds a lot better than that fancy place. Besides this top is itchy.” You smile, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Sounds good with me. More time to spend with you.” Deku places a kiss on your forehead before placing his hand in your own to lead you back to U.A.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Whoever Broke Your Heart

Angel Reyes x Reader

Song request from @bishopslosawife: the song is Whoever Broke Your Heart by Murphy Elmore. When I do song fics I tend to just write a story based around the song, I don’t usually include lyrics or anything. Hope that’s okay!

Warnings: language, mentions of past toxic relationships, a good old bar fight, protective Angel comin’ in hot

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: When I listened to the song and the prompt, I definitely pictured Angel a little more than any of the other guys. Love seeing him get a little hot-headed and protective. Hope y’all enjoy!

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter

You laughed as Angel wrapped his arms around your waist. He was standing behind your bar stool, pressing playful kisses against your neck and cheek. You reached behind you and gently rested your hand on the side of his face, reveling in the feeling of his hands on your hips.

It was one of the rare nights when the two of you went out with your friends. Normally you hung out with him and the guys at the clubhouse, and that was fine, but if you really wanted to go out and dance, you could usually convince Angel to come with you and your little crew. He’d never been good at saying no to you. Plus, you could tell that he liked being around when all of you went out because he kept his eye out for any creeps trying to make moves on any of you. Angel might’ve been your boyfriend, but he’d gone to bat for nearly every one of your friends at one point or another, defending them from belligerent drunks and shitty exes. Sometimes you worried that he’d get tired of it, but he always told you it was nice to feel purposeful, especially when he was one of the only guys in the group.

“I’m gonna step out for a smoke, querida,” he kissed your cheek, “Come with me?”

You nodded, hopping down off the barstool, “Of course.”

You were walking in front of him, giggling to yourself as you felt his hands reach out and slap your ass lightly. You turned around to him quickly, flashing him a smile before slipping out the door of the club. The air felt cold and fresh, and you took a deep breath before leaning back against the side of the building the two of you had just come out of. Angel pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his kutte. You shook your head no when he offered you one, content to just be with him away from the noise for a few minutes before you dove back into it.

Angel was looking at you, a smile plastered on his face as he let out a puff of smoke. You felt your face get hot for a moment, “What?”

“Nothin’. You’re beautiful.”

You smiled, shaking your head with a laugh, “You’re beautiful.”

He rested one hand onto your hip, “Nah, I mean it. I could look at you all day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.”

You felt your heart swell inside your chest as you looked at him. Angel had never hesitated on telling you everything that came to his mind, and it was one of the things that you loved the most about him. He wasn’t afraid to be a little sappy with you and it went a long way after what your past relationships had put your through.

He saw the wheels turning in your mind and smiled, “Wanna bail and go home?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “No, no. I’m good, I promise. I just…it’s nice to hear that stuff sometimes.”

He snubbed his cigarette out on the ground before stepping in closer to you, cupping your face in his hands, “I’ll make sure you hear it every day.”

There was a brief moment when you wanted to tell him that you changed your mind and were totally okay with bailing and going home, but you stopped yourself. You hadn’t gone out with your friends in a while and you didn’t want to bail on them just because you were feeling extra lovey over your boyfriend. The two of you took a couple more minutes to stay outside of the chaos, and finally Angel tugged you along back inside to rejoin everyone.

He didn’t particularly like dancing—he’d told you that on more than one occasion. But he’d let you drag him out onto the dancefloor when you went to the club because he knew how much you enjoyed it. He also knew that whoever you had been with before kept you on an impossibly tight leash and you hadn’t been allowed to do much without your ex looking over your shoulder waiting for you to slip up. You hadn’t mentioned it to him at first, so when you would get upset and defensive over things, he didn’t quite understand it. But one day you broke down, not able to try and push it down anymore. From that point on Angel started going a little extra out of his way to be reassuring, and to let you know that you never had to defend yourself to him. He never wanted you to be nervous to talk to him about anything, but especially not things as simple as wanting to go out with your girlfriends for the night.

He was pressed right up against you, hands on your hips as the two of you danced to the music. Despite the music and the noise, you could still hear him clear as day when he leaned down next to your ear, “I love you.”

You smiled up at him, “I love you too.”

“Would a beautiful woman like you let me buy her a drink?”

You laughed, nodding, “I suppose, since you seem like such a gentleman.”

The two of you made your way back to the bar. You kept your fingers lightly entwined with Angel’s so that you wouldn’t lose him in the busyness of the club. He managed to find you a free barstool to sit on and you gladly took it, happy to be off your feet for a few minutes.

Angel stepped away to flag down the bartender. You watched him, a smile spreading across your face. You were too busy gazing at him to notice who else had shown up and was now standing in front of you, waiting to gain your attention.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he finally said. Chills shot down your spine and you turned your head. He smiled at you and it almost seemed genuine, “Long time since I’ve seen you. How’ve you been?”

Every fiber of your being was telling you to get the hell out of the club. No good would come of talking to him. Your answer was short, your tone cold, “Fine.”

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“Someone already is,” you were angry but you still felt a lump forming in the back of your throat. You thought you had outrun these demons.

He cocked one eyebrow, “Really? I doubt that.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You had no idea what exactly it was about him that made him able to make you question everything about yourself, and your life, but you hated it. You hated him. Your mind raced to try and find the right words to say to get yourself out of the situation, to make him go away, but you couldn’t.

Angel reappeared, a beer bottle in one hand and a drink for you in the other. He saw the look on your face and his smile instantly dropped. He looked at the man standing in front of you, knowing that he was the reason for your expression but not quite knowing why.

He set your drink down on the surface of the bar and stood next to you, facing your ex, “Who the fuck are you?”

The man stepped back slightly, taking in the intimidating image that Angel easily put off, “I should be asking you that question.”

Angel scoffed, stepped completely in front of you and blocked you from the sightline of your ex, “I’m her fucking boyfriend.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Figures,” he peered around Angel to look at you, “let go of me and your standards, huh?”

The realization of who he was hit Angel like a freight train. He shoved the man backwards, “Get the fuck away from her.”

He laughed, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Before Angel could do anything too stupid you reached forward and grabbed the beer bottle out of his hands. Starting a brawl was bad enough but the last thing you needed was him cracking someone’s skull with a glass bottle.

It didn’t do enough to defuse the situation. Angel got up in his face, towering over him, “I don’t give a fuck who you think you are. Get out of here now before you regret it.”

“You’re gonna make me regret it, biker boy?” he eyed Angel’s kutte.

Angel was too protective and hot-headed to back down. He shoved the man again, and when he tried to step back to him, Angel caught him on the jaw with a clean right hook. You gasped, although you couldn’t say that the reaction surprised you all the much. Your ex stumbled backwards, hand coming up to nurse his jaw.

Angel was ready to swing again when the bouncer showed up and got in between them. He leaned in close to Angel, “You can’t do this in here. Take this shit outside, Angel. I don’t want to have to kick you out of here.”

Angel nodded, still not taking his eyes off of your ex, “Yea, got it,” he stepped around the bouncer and pushed your ex towards the door, “Let’s fucking go,” he looked back at you, “Stay here, Y/N.”

“Angel, don’t—”

He cut you off, “Stay here.”

You were gnawing at the inside of your lip as you watched the two of them head towards the door of the club. Your ex might’ve been able to intimidate you, but Angel was an entirely different story. You’ve never seen him back down from anything and you had a feeling that he wasn’t going to start tonight.

Angel pushed him out the door of the club onto the sidewalk, “Stay the fuck away from her.”

He chuckled, “What’re you gonna do about it? Send your gang to come and get me?”

“I don’t need anyone else to handle this, believe me,” he grabbed the collar of the man’s shirt, “Don’t even think about looking at her or talking to her ever again.”

“You can’t tell me what to fucking do.”

Angel shook his head slowly. He released the grip on the man’s shirt, and as soon as his hands were free he cocked his arm back and punched him again, slicing the man’s lip open. He dropped to the ground and within seconds Angel was on top of him. Your ex tried to shell up and protect his face, but it didn’t do him much good.

You stepped out onto the sidewalk, instantly running over when you saw what was going on. You grabbed Angel’s shoulders and tried to pull him back, “Angel! Angel, stop!” you pulled back as hard as you could, “He’s not worth it!”

He allowed you to pull him back, leaving your ex in a heap on the sidewalk. You pulled his face so that he was looking at you, “What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I’m thinkin’ that that fuckin—” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he shook his head and glared at the man who was slowly rising from the pile Angel had left him in, “He broke your heart, Y/N. He hurt you. He doesn’t get to get away with that.”

You cupped one side of his face in your hand, knowing that all he could think about was all the lasting damage that that man had caused you, all the pain you had to work through to be able to trust someone again. You sighed as you traced your fingers down through his beard, “He’s a piece of shit, for sure, but he’s not worth getting arrested over. Let him go.”

Angel turned back to your ex, who was trying to wipe away the blood trickling out of the cuts on his face, “I don’t ever wanna fuckin’ see you again,” he gave him one last shove, “Get outta my sight.”

You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as your ex stumbled away and Angel walked back over to you. You looked over his face, smiling at the fact that he got out of all of that unscathed.

You sighed, “Feel better?”

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot, Y/N.”

You laughed, “Yea, that’s why I don’t want you going to jail over him. You’re on thin ice as it is, Reyes,” you smiled as you shook your head.

“No, I mean, he’s an idiot for doing what he did to you,” he pulled you closer by the beltloops of your shorts, “I’ll never understand how he didn’t see the amazing woman that’s standing in front of me right now,” he cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

You placed your hands on his, feeling that his knuckles were still damp with blood, “I love you too.”

“It’s never gonna be like that again, you know that, right?” he waited for you to meet his eyes, “I’m never gonna be like that.”

You nodded, “I know.”

He leaned down, kissing you softly on the lips, “Good,” he paused, a smile passing over his lips, “Now do you wanna bail and go home?”

You laughed, “Yea, let’s go. Before you bust up someone else’s face.”

He chuckled as he pulled you against his side, “Yea, yea,” he kissed the top of your head, “I’d do it again, you know.”

You smiled, leaning into him, “Yea, I know.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #my writing #drabblesmc #fanfiction

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iridescent-petrichor · 3 years

Text

music to my ears

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: swearing but that’s it

Words: 1K

A/N: I am so sorry that I’ve been gone for years only to come back with a different fandom fic.... I got hit with a huge writer’s block and then I watched a ton of x-men movies with my best friend after wandavision so obviously i’m gonna fall in love with evan peters’ quicksilver, what else was i supposed to do, yknow???

When you woke up, it took you a moment to remember where you were. Sunlight was streaming in through the curtains, brightening the whole room in its soft gleam. The room was slightly messy, with a couple of clothes littered around the floor. You were definitely still in Peter’s room.

The space in the bed next to you was empty, which didn’t surprise you. Peter hates leaving you alone in the morning, but you knew he was talking to Charles early in the morning, and he didn’t tend to need much sleep anyways.

You sat up in the bed, stretching your tired limbs before climbing out from under the warm covers. You made the bed quickly, knowing damn well Peter wasn’t going to do it himself.

Grabbing a random shirt from Peter’s dresser and pulling on the jeans you were wearing the day before, you decided you were somewhat ready for the day.

That is until you noticed his walkman laying on top of his dresser.

He never went anywhere without his walkman somewhere on his person, so to see it alone in his room was quite the rarity. You glanced around as if he was going to jump out from the shadows and scold you for even thinking about taking his stuff. Another couple of seconds passed before you swiped the walkman, attaching it to your belt like you’ve seen Peter do a million times. With one final glance at the clock, you determined that Peter would still be talking to Charles, so you headed down towards the forest behind the school.

It was such a beautiful day out, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sunshine as Peter’s music played in your ears. You were surprised at how many love songs he listened to, but maybe you’d just rubbed off on him. The thought of him thinking of you while listening to these made you unable to wipe your smile off your face.

You almost lost track of time, only heading back after you realized you’d looped around towards the school again. It was still early, you couldn’t have been out for over an hour, but you felt so much more full of energy.

Peter strolled out of the professor’s office, hands shoved in his pockets and humming a quiet tune that’s been stuck in his head all morning. He looked up, seeing Jean passing him in the hallway, and gave her a quick wave before heading towards his own room. Upon entering, the first thing he notices is his bed is empty. He smiles when he notices you made the bed before you left.

Instinctively, he reached for his walkman, deciding to run a couple of laps around the school before heading out to find you. His hand hits the dresser, finding nothing.

“What the…” He does a quick scan of the room, dresser first, only to find his walkman is nowhere to be seen. Running his hand through his hair, he sighs. “Goddammit, Y/N.”

In truth, he didn’t care all that much. But without music or you to entertain himself, he would get bored quickly. So, he set off, knowing where he’d find one, he’d find the other.

Speeding down into the kitchen where Jean was heading, he found her talking to Scott.

“Hey!” They both jumped back at his voice, startled by his sudden presence.

“You have to stop doing that!” Scott urges, his furrowed brows the only evidence of his emotions.

“What’s up, Peter?” Jean asks, ignoring her boyfriend.

“Have either of you seen Y/N?” Peter tried to lean casually against the entryway door, but it moved with him, causing him to slip before he caught himself.

Scott snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “Nope, haven’t seen her.”

“Why?” Jean asked. Usually, they were attached at the hip, so it was only fair to wonder why she was away from him today.

“She took my walkman, man.” He muttered before speeding off to look for her.

Maybe she was in her room?

You walked back inside, invigorated from your long walk through the forest. When you passed the kitchen, you faintly heard your name being called.

Taking the earbuds out, you turn to see Jean and Scott standing together, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” You walked towards them, stopping at the entryway of the room.

“Peter’s looking for you. Says you have something of his.” Scott smirked, and your hand flew to the walkman.

“Oh, that.” You laughed, feeling the blush come across your face. “Mind telling me where he went?”

Before either of them could answer, you felt a gust of wind coming from behind, followed by a pair of arms around you.

“Right here.” A familiar voice whispered in your ear. You spun around in Peter’s arms, coming face to face with him. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

You felt your face grow hotter when you remembered that his walkman wasn’t the only thing you took.

“Sorry?” You tried with a sheepish smile.

“You’re not.”

“I’m not.”

In an instant, you were back in Peter’s room with a vague sense of nausea coming over you. You faintly sensed a weight off your belt, knowing Peter took his walkman back.

“You know stealing is my thing, babe.” You spun around to face him, seeing him leaning back on his desk chair.

“Well, maybe you just rubbed off on me.” Walking over until your face was inches from his before stopping, giggling when you noticed the pout on Peter’s face. It didn’t last long though, because soon enough Peter’s hand was cupping your face and his lips were on yours.

“Your music taste is sappy.” You whispered, laughing loudly when you heard him groan in annoyance.

“You are never taking my shit ever again.”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine

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anonbeadraws · 4 years

Photo

So I caved and with @spacespectres help made an avatarsona! With a big chunky statement to go with it! (Trigger warnings for homophobia/transphobia, conversion therapy, death and parental abuse. Everyone gets just desserts though.)

‘I’m, actually not sure why I’m here. You can’t help me, my son is gone and the police arn't saying it but - I’m sorry, my ears are- It’s like- You know those alarms, the ones that are made to disperse kids at shopping centres, keep them from causing trouble- not that i think they work. you see more of them these days, scruffy and dirty, what their parents doing, i don’t- Anyway, it’s like that noise, that high buzz. it’s meant to be that, as you get older, your brain tunes it out, adults aren’t meant to hear it anymore, just keep on shopping without hoodlums hanging about outside smoking and throwing shit at the elderly. I don’t miss that, Ben’s smoking, i’ll say that. That’s awful to say, i bet you’re thinking, god how terrible, her child’s missing and she’s moaning about a few nicotine stains on the ceiling.

I know theres plenty that would call me a terrible mother anyway, i know the neighbours didn’t agree with my decision, the decision of a single mother, who struggled enough just to keep her child fed and watered and out of trouble, to then struggle to keep him from wearing my lipstick when i was out of the house-! I have no problem with the gays. I want to say that, have that clear. I just know, what he was doing, that wasn’t my Ben, that wasn’t my son and, the Helping House was what he needed. I’m his mum, i know what he needed, don’t care what his dad says. he wasn’t here, he wasn’t here to raise Ben, so he doesn’t-

The pamphlet was so nice, so professional and i checked it out online, all 5 stars, apart from the odd protester sticking his oar in, and it was- reassuring to know he’d be looked after, helped! Get what he needed. And he was fine when i left him there, with his old school backpack with all his bits in, the Helping staff there to welcome him. Reminded me a little of when he started primary school, he looked so small, all big eyes… They promised it’d be a couple of weeks, maybe a month, and then he could come home, all better.

I got to visit every weekend, which was nice! Sometimes brought him biscuits, can't beat home made, chatted a little. He still had that, that look from when i left, like he was little again, when i could tell he didn’t really want to leave me at the gates, he didn’t want to go in all alone, couldn’t we just go home instead mum? But i was strong. For him. I resisted.

I think, it was when that look started to go, that little boy look, replaced with something, i don’t really want to think about even now, that i really noticed the other patients. One in particular. He looked different from the others. Props to the Helping House, they keep, kept the kids tidy. it was actually lovely, real treat to see Ben all combed and neat, not smelling like his trash dump of a room. And not a whiff of smoke! i’d honestly not have been surprised if he’d snuck in some ciggies in but if he had, they must have confiscated em quick. No fags in the Helping House! I mean-! oh you know, what i mean!

But this one,.. they all dressed in clothes from home, apparently they worked out its better for the process, this one was a mess. Half shaved hair, no knees in the jeans and honestly, sunglasses indoors? who did He think he was!? Mick Jagger? He just slouched in the corner of the visiting room, looking out into the gardens, like he belonged there in that clean good place. They were nice gardens, well looked after, like the kids. I remember it was coming up summer, lots of lovely flowers. lots of happy bees.

Anyway, i did Not like how Ben looked over at, him, while we had our cups of tea. it was this, gooey soft look i’d never seen on him. later i remembered it. it was how his dad looked when we started courting. That cloying honey sweet love that turned sickly and choking far too quick. God, that look, on my boys face? You bet I had words with the staff before i went. I did not bring my boy here to get help and it be ruined by some hooligan with warped intentions. I made sure they understood. They didn't seem to know what i meant by the Sunglasses kid but it’s a big facility, probably get a lot of patients. Their success rate was incredible really, always seemed to be spaces open. Whatever they did, didn’t do a lot though. Cause i kept seeing him, every time i visited. And he drew a crowd. At first it was the ones who didn’t have family to come, poor dears. They’d be sat, close as they could to him. They had rules about touching in the Helping House, and rightly so, helps with, the temptation, but they’d sit there, close as they could to him, just listening, sun on their faces from the big glass window. Now that i’m thinking about it, I don’t think i remember ‘em blinking? Anyway, Could never hear what was said, what venom that creeper was pouring into their ears, whenever i tried to hear him over the other visitors, it just came over as a low buzz. Well, whatever it was, those kids were hooked. I didn't like it. And the next weekend, there more of ‘em! You’d have kids that’d be crying one week that their family hadn't come, who didn't give two shits the next, pardon my french. They’d be sat in the corner, happy sappy faces, listening to whatever nonsense that kid was murmuring to his little flock. They didn’t touch, not then, but it was a close thing, i remember being so shocked that nothing was being done about it. It was obviously a problem. that weirdo was the problem.

But my boy didn’t stray. He might’ve looked over at that hive of idiots who worked against what these good people were trying to do for them, with that… look. But he stayed and drank his tea with me like he should. He looked tired, but i knew that’s cause he was working hard, getting better. i got the reports.

But the last couple of visits, i come in and it’s just my boy in the visitors room. The rest were outside in the garden, in the flowers. All those kids, twenty or so of em, tangled in each other, touching and so close. I don’t think they were, Doing things but, it was against regulation for sure, and I stood up, to go do something, anything, even just yell at them to stop it, ask what they thought they were doing!? That’s when the Buzzing started. For a second i thought it was just a bee come in from the garden, poor little bumble trapped indoors but it was in my ears, in my head. It was nothing i’d ever felt before and I’ve had Tinitus and that’s a nasty bugger but it was more than that.

Been to the doctors since. Apparently they can’t work it out, whats causing it. All they can say was it wasn’t Tinitus.

I think it was, Sunglasses looking at me. I remember when i got up, to tell ‘em off, i remember light in the corner of my eye, like a reflection off glass. I think he turned, he knew i was going to stop em and he-

Last sunday was the last time, the last visit. Had a big tin of biscuits, gingerbread, Ben’s favourite, had some nice news about his cousin getting into uni, first in the family! Always had hopes Ben would be the second, but- Ben wasn’t waiting for me. He was outside. With Them.

Him.

There he was, holding the hand of that freak and the staff were just stood round like numpty’s doing nothing! Dumb faces and vacant as their patients were outside rolling about in the sun like it was the 60’s! And smoking! I thought, they must’ve found a stash cause i could see the smoke, swirling dark against the sky, dark against their smiling, stupid faces.

I was furious. i was, so angry.

I think thats why i did it. I was so angry that i couldn’t think of anything else to do but grab that sunglasses wearing freak who was corrupting my boy, who was holding his hand and steering him wrong and undoing all my work and love, and shake my anger out of him. I was yelling all that, yelling at him. I remember he was light, not as heavy as he should be, not for a kid his age and that he didn’t flinch. And he spoke to me, in that low drone that I thought had been just distance and space distorting his voice, but was just him, god it was just him.

I cant remember exactly what he said, something about love, real love, some hippy nonsense. No, i remember one thing. The little shit asked if i thought i was ‘my child’s real Family.” ‘Of course, i said, ‘i’m his mother’ Then he smiled, like i was wrong and i hated him. And I could see myself, in that dark reflection, in those stupid shades and i couldn’t stand it. I wish i hadn’t, done what i did. i just didn’t want to see myself in that black mirror anymore, all twisted and hateful. Turns out it was far nicer than what was behind them.

I let go, dropped it, that thing in ripped jeans and stripes and it fell into the flowers. There were so many happy bees. Thats when i heard the other kids. They had it’s voice, shared it’s voice, that drone. That buzz. i didn’t dare look at them. My ears, started up again, like before but, that sound, their sound, it made it louder and i honestly thought my head might explode and I turn to Ben, my boy, who had dropped to his knees in front of that thing, holding it’s hand and for a second, I thought he was smoking again, dark wisps coming from his downturned face and, I just, my fear turned to anger, for just a second, that he would do that here and now.

But I begged him to come away, to leave it alone, to get better, to just be my little boy again, to come home with mummy. Then he looked up, my Ben, and his face- it wasn’t smoke, it had never been smoke. it was the same as whatever had been bumbling around in the creature that still lay in the flowers but Ben smiled all the same. I, feel crazy, crazy saying it but- as the bees poured out of my little boy’s smiling mouth in that choking swarm, their buzzing droning out his words, my boys last-

My name is Sarah

i’d never seen him happier.

Apparently I fainted. Never fainted in my life, i’ll tell you, too tough for that sort of thing, but i must’ve. Police think it’s what saved me. I like to think otherwise. Officially, what happened was that the patients turned on the staff, killed em and left. Simple, explainable. Some sicko’s like to use what happened as an argument against conversion therapy, old hippy dykes that don’t have enough to picket over, idiots. They didn’t see the bodies, they didn’t see what those ‘helpless victims’ did- They dragged them outside after they killed em, into the sun, into the flowers. I remember waking up once, amongst all the dead. Happy bees, dipping their beaks into the blood of the doctors. Plenty of sugar in blood, I read.

Ben was all i had left, my only family. I don’t have no one left. You don’t get many visitor when the papers insist you made your kid a killer. Don’t even get phone calls from Dave anymore, but i call that blessing. He was barely Ben’s dad anyway. I’ve gotten used to the quiet. i go to work, i come home, watch a bit of telly. the buzz from the old tv only scares me a little. I know i did my best for him. i believe that, after everything. I wouldn’t be here though, if, there wasn’t, something else.

I had a visitor the yesterday. Wasn’t expecting it, thought it was a missionary, Jehovah’s or something. Was ready to tell them to piss off, i tell you. It was a girl. Said she was my daughter. she looked like my Ben, same smile, same funny little knees he used to scrape up, ones i used to kiss better. It wasn’t Ben. My Ben had eyes. My daughters words buzzed, like there was something in her throat. Perhaps the same things that crawled where her eyes would be, round and yellow and bumbling, i thought, and my head starting hurting again. She only stayed at the door, didn’t come in. She said she just wanted to say hello.

She said she’ll visit again.

That she’ll bring her family.

i don’t think she means me anymore.’ The magnus archives belongs to Rusty Quill, the above belongs to me!

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franeridart · 3 years

Text

Anon said: [Spoilers for non-manga readers] opinion on Baku's hero name?

Very Bakugou, honestly don’t mind it at all! Mostly just surprised it’s, like, legal in the bnha universe for heroes to call themselves stuff like explodo-kills (and also that there isn’t a character limit for hero names??) but that Bakugou would stick with it is pretty damn in character for him so I like it xD still, I’ll probably just call him Dynamight if I’ll ever need to use his hero name lmao

Anon said: not to be the most romantic sap but uh just a kiss by lady a is killin me

Nothing sappy about letting romantic songs get to you!!!! I say, as I’m constantly crying over romantic songs so this mindset benefits me as well lol

Anon said: i may or may not have stumbled across some of your older kiribaku art, the stuff with akane, and she's the best child oc tbh. i actually like her and i tend to not be a fan of child ocs but she's just the cutest darn thing 🥰

I’m so glad you like her!!!!! She was a lot of fun, what a good gremlin ;;;

Anon said: uve heard of dragon!kiri w his hair spikes up, now get ready for dragon!kiri w his hair dowm lookin like the softest boy

AW HECK I think I’ve drawn him in the past, actually!!!! Spike-haired Kiri will forever be my fav Kiri, but there’s just something about hair down Kiri isn’t it!! What a cute boy ;;;; all sharp edges and soft curves, what a lovely sight

Anon said: can i just say your itafushi art is so cute? these two already make me feel and then your art just (つω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

THANK YOU SO MUCH I really need to draw them more, don’t I! goge kinda monopolized my attention there, but the way itafushi makes me feel..........boy the way they make me feel ;;;;

Anon said: good day, poké au thought: 12 y/o bakugo somehow catches a dreepy as like his 2nd pokemon and never questions it

WHY NOT WHY NOT I have a whole team in my mind for the boy tbh but dreepy is so cute ;;;; and anyway, I like my poke!bakugou with as many dragon types as he could possibly get his hands on hahaha

Anon said: Please know that, amongst other factors, you were one of the maon reasons I stsrted Jujutsu Kaisen two days ago and there isnothing more to say except thank you and I'm absolutely in debt with you for that, thank you so much 😍

I’m so so SO glad you’re liking it!!!!!! It can get kinda heavy but it’s such a great story.... honestly I’d been wanting to start it since I saw the first pv for the anime all the way back last year but I was like, you know it’s a mappa anime! so I wanted to watch the anime as a new thing, cause I love mappa, but three episodes in I couldn’t hold back and just binged it. It’s kind of story that just makes you wanna drink it all in one go, isn’t it? so good so good

Anon said: makeup artist kirishima and model bakugo or makeup artist bakugo and model kirishima? :0c

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm can’t say I see either of them much into fashion tbh, but if I had to pick probably model Kiri and artist Baku? I just don’t think Baku would be able to stay still enough to get photographed, and he wouldn’t like the photographer bossing him around anyway, and catwalks would be impossible for him to stomach imho, he’s too restless for it! At least it’s the way I see it haha

Anon said: fdgdhdkfhdafs i had a thought, what if bakugo prefers dogs and kirishima prefers cats and when they meet each other and become friends it's like, "oh." because they have some striking similarities to their fave animals

That’s been my headcanon for a while now, actually!! I think for me it came from two characters in a manga I like that are a lot like a dog and a cat but have inverted fav animals and when I read about that I was like “oh, right, makes sense since they like each other” and then my brain turned it krbk because when does it not lmao

Anon said: your art is the soothing balm to my soul recently, thank you for posting so much beautiful content. i hope you have a lovely week. ♡

sob thank you so much, I’m glad my doodling can help you feel better ;; <3

Anon said: Friendly reminder anon from last time: that post I left last time I had only eaten 7 gingersnaps that day and hadn’t drank any water. So that encouraged me to actually self care. Thank you.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! well I hope you’re taking care of yourself today too! And as fair trade, I’ll do the same myself! <3

Anon said: Hi! I'm an artist and I'm thinking of making a sideblog for my art. Do you have any tips?

Ah man, I’m sorry but I’m not the best person to ask this to! I started this sideblog cause I had too many followers on my main and I didn’t want my stuff to be seen by that many people at first, so whatever I did probably isn’t what you’re looking for :( but really there isn’t much to it, just post whatever you like to draw, tag it as best as you can (but remember that only the first five tags appear in the search page) and be patient, since whatever you do at first you won’t get much attention anyway - the only real advice I can give is to draw something that makes you happy and that you’d draw anyway even if no one were to see it, it’ll make keep posting despite a possible lack of activity a lot easier!

Anon said: Your goge art🥺🥺

I just love them so much ( TT’’’TT)9

Anon said: how the fuck have i not been following you? I remember seeing your bakushima art in the bnha tag and always thinking it's so cute. Now you're into JJK too??? and the satosugu art??? fuckin, diabetes incarnate. I love it. I love you. Your art 10/10. I'm tired lmao.

WELL thank you for the follow!! And for thinking my stuff is cute!!!!! I do my best with that, I want all the soft things for my favs 😌

Anon said: Are you gonna draw Gojou/Getou comic?? 👉🏻👈🏻 WOULD LOVE TO READ IT

you mean an actual doujin? I don’t think I will, sorry! I’m really no good at long projects orz but thank you so much for wishing to read something like that from me!!! ;A;

Anon said: Hello! YOUR ART IS SO FREAKING GORGEOUSSSS!!! I love them so much!! If I may ask you one question. Between Getou amd Gojou, who do you see as top/bottom? Just curious

THANK YOU!!!!! And I honestly don’t care as long as they’re happy and together!!! please let them be happy and together 🙏🙏🙏

Anon said: i want you to know!!! i followed you for your kiribaku art but!!! i love your art so much that idc what you post because it's all just!!!! incredible and wonderful and stunning!!!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!! this means a lot to me so seriously thank you so much!!!!

Anon said: d'you think bakugo has like headaches or migraines after training or battles because of how loud his quirk is? like, i listen to music slightly too loud and my head is sending me to hell. (unless you go with the hoh hc which is also 👌)

I like to think Baku’s body is attuned enough to his own quirk that he wouldn’t get drawbacks of the kind tbh, though that wouldn’t be a bad thought for when he just starts to increase the output/width and strength of his explosions............ well, I myself suffer from chronic headaches and migraines so I’m always up for projecting on my favs ngl lmao

Anon said: so like... dragon kirishima's eyes glow right? like, if we equate his dragon-ness to unbreakable his eyes glow? they also glow when he's half shifted? honestly i just live glowing eyes

Oh hell yeah I’m all for that, definitely definitely, I love glowing eyes with my whole heart and Kiri’s eyes in unbreakable are just so!!!!!! NGH *chef kiss* the more of unbreakable there is in his dragon form the happier I am ( TT^TT)9

Anon said: me, scrolling through your blog: ah shit guess im gonna have to start watching jjk

!!!!! hope it won’t hurt you too much, anon!!

Anon said: dragon!kiri and bakugo having a tug-of-war match over a piece of meat. both have it in their mouths. both are determined to win.

Kiri is turned into his dragon form and Baku still wins, hell yeah

Anon said: your satosugu is top tier!! it's hard to find stuff for them that isn't straight up angst so your art has been super cool and also very very cute!! (tho if you went with angst, it wouldn't be a bad thing obviously)

AH I’m so happy to hear you like them!!!! but also happy you wouldn’t mind angst, as I do like them the best happy and soft but my brain, my brain has been throwing sads my way for a while now 👀 I got some ideas

Anon said: What program/device do you use??

Easy Paint Tool SAI and a wacom intuos!! Though I got myself an ipad+procreate just yesterday and I’ve been messing around with it, let’s see how that one goes!

Anon said: *inahles* i am simping for mohawk man please tell me everything about your ocs immediately or i will detonate

THANK YOU FOR LIKING HIM HE’S CALLED DAVIDE Dav for short, he’s a cat of a man and a music instrument enthusiast (mostly string ones, but he’s very good with the piano as well) - he works in a music instruments store, and he’s a uni student majoring in philosphy! He doesn’t like bothersome things, he isn’t very good at taking anything seriously or putting effort in stuff, but he’s very chill to spend time with and generally a nice chat both if you want mindless thoughts or deep conversations (he’s a philosophy major after all). He can’t sing for shit, he’s got two cats (tago and schelly!), and he just wants a quiet life to laze around but all his friends are hurricanes in human bodies, but then again, he picked them himself so he can’t complain. He’s a good boy!! I’m planning a comic for him and his boy Ross >:]

#fran answers #SORRY FOR THE DELAY #i wish i could say i was busy but actually i just got distracted #ah also #jjk spoilers #cause my sis has a habit of readin my asks and she can't know about the otp just yet #lol #is the readmore for this showing? this is pretty damn long....#long post #just to be sure

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eideticmemory · 4 years

Text

GODPARENTS | SPENCER REID

Description: You’re a wonderful godmother, always have been. Nothing could distract you from that. Queue the entrance of the ultimate distraction: Godfather Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 2,757.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse.

Jennifer Jareau is the closest thing you’ve got to a big sister. Your parents had placed you in grief counseling shortly after a loss in the family. You were only nine, but it impacted greatly - you felt alone, misunderstood, lost, hurt, confused. Little did you know, a twelve-year-old JJ would be in the other room, distraught by the loss of her older sister. And once the two of you met, chatting, laughing, confessing your darkest secrets, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. Jennifer Jareau helped you heal, and you could only hope she’d say the same about you.

19 years later, with a friendship thick and strong as stone, she gave birth to your godson - Henry. She had asked you be his godmother long before her due date, insisting that there was no woman she trusted as much. You cried. You hugged her. You talked to her stomach. It was a good day.

The day Henry was born was even better. You met him just hours after his birth, and fell in love instantly. You kissed JJ on top of her head, told her she did such a good job, leaned in to hug Will and held your godson. He was the spitting image of his mother, and you cared for both of them immensely. However, with you living nearly an hour away at the time, your reunion with them was cut short.

By the time Henry turned one, you had a cozy Virginia apartment and went to see JJ as offen as possible. Even visiting Will and Henry when JJ was off on a case.

It wasn’t until Henry’s first birthday party that you met Spencer Reid. And everything began to fall apart.

JJ went all out. Balloons, bouncy houses, tons of food, tons of people, all gathered to celebrate little Henry. You, being the ditiful godmother, showed up with a bunch of presents in tow, ready to help JJ in any way you could.

Before having Henry blow out the candles on his birthday cake, Will and her took a family photo. “Okay!” She exclaimed. “[y/n], Spencer, come here! I want Henry to get a quick picture with both his godparents.”

You happily complied, skipping over to Henry with a great big smile on your face. Spencer was the first to introduce himself, “Hi,” he said, posing at Henry’s side with his vision focused on you. “I’m Spencer.”

“[y/n],” you smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard good things.”

“Same here,” he nodded.

You both crouched down to Henry’s level, smiling wide for the picture as JJ counted down, “Three, two, one!” She shouted, followed by the shutter of the camera. “Perfect! I’m getting that framed!”

You giggled at your friend’s excitement, looked at little Henry and gave him quick pecks all over his face. When you looked up at Spencer, he was watching you - a look of adoration on his face, a smile gracing his lips. You smiled back. And that’s how it started.

Later that night - when the lights had gone down, most of the guests had left, and the baby was asleep, - you were up in the guest room. Unpacking your bag, you listened to the distinct coversation between JJ and her coworkers - their laughs, the inside jokes, the bond.

Since it was adult time, you figured, one drink wouldn’t hurt. You pulled a small flask from your bag, checking the door before you stepped onto the balcony. You took in the view, and gulped down a considerable amount of alcohol, your nerves loosening by the second.

“Ah,” a voice called. “Holding out on us?”

You turned your body quickly, coming face to face with Spencer, who had his hands in his pockets and his shoulder leaned against the balcony threshold. You giggled, “Well, I didn’t really think this was a perfect first-birthday-party activity, y’know?”

“Oh, no, I know,” he nodded, closing the sliding door behind him as he stepped outside. Even under the moonlight, he was utterly beautiful. “Got enough to share?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Why, Spencer, I would’ve never taken you for the drinking type.”

“Only on special occasions,” he shrugged, taking the flask you handed him. He swallowed it down, with minimal reaction, and you felt your heartbeat between your legs. The breeze flew under your dress, making you shiver. “You cold?”

“Yeah, damn. It was just 80 degrees out. Now it’s freezing.”

“Here,” he said. “Take my sweater.”

You watched as he stripped the article of clothing from his shoulders, holding eye contact with you until your eyes trailed to his body. Stop that, you told yourself, stop looking at him like that, [y/n]. But you couldn’t. He was irresistible, and he knew it. When he’d completely removed the sweater, he was only left in a white button up, tucked into his belt buckle.

He didn’t even try to hand you the sweater. He dropped it to the ground, along with the flask, as you moved in to kiss him. His arms wrapped around your waist, and your hands held onto his face as you shoved your tongue into his mouth, moaning at the taste of him.

You excitedly began to fidget with his belt buckle, undoing his pants with phenomenal speed. He pushed you back against the wall, and you followed, so ready to go all the way with this man, the wait was unbearable. He kissed your neck as you freed his cock from his briefs, stroking him into a set erection.

Neither of you spoke a word.

He just picked you up, held you against the wall by your thighs, and kissed you as you pulled your dress up. You pulled your panties to the side and allowed him to put himself inside you. He buried his face in your shoulder, with you going cross-eyed from the intense feeling. You just barely remembered to stay quiet, whining into your mouth as he thrusted into you, hard.

You held onto his shirt for dear life, wrapping your legs around his waist and moving your hips against his. “Fuck,” you whispered. He grinned against your skin, using all his strength to pound you into the wall. Slowly, though, as to not alert his friends downstairs.

You reached down and rubbed your clit, your mouth instantly forming an ‘o’ shape and your head rolling back. Combine that with Spencer’s cock striking all the right places, and you were a puddle. Your legs trembled, but he held onto them, his hands big enough to nearly wrap around your entire thigh. The rush started in the pit of your stomach, then it spread through your clit, and then your entire body. And you came, weakly, almost violently against Spencer’s body.

He stopped after that, pulling out of you and placing your feet back on the concrete gently. Despite being in a daze, you grabbed onto his cock and jerked him off quickly, staring at him as you did it.

“[y/n]—“ he moaned. “I’m—I’m—“

He did. He exploded all over you. Your thigh, your dress. All while falling apart into a fit of groans, having to hold himself up on the wall just to keep from crumbling to the ground. You smirked at the sight of him, glad to have gotten him off.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry about your dress.”

You shook your head, “I needed to shower anyway,” you shrugged. “Go on, everyone’s probably wondering where you went.” You smiled.

He kissed you. Once before he fixed his pants. And twice before he actually left the room. He left his sweater. You wore it to bed that night, sipping happily on the forgotten flask.

In the morning, JJ made breakfast. Enough pancakes and eggs to feed you, the baby, and her. You kissed her cheek before taking a seat at the table, tickling Henry and earning a cute, little giggle from him.

“Where’s Will?” You asked.

“Where else? Work. He couldn’t get out of his shift today, but believe me, he tried.”

“Aw, poor, poor William. I hope he atleast had fun yesterday.”

“He did. We were both tired afterwards, but we had a good time. Thank you for being here.”

“Oh, c’mon, JJ, you know I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world. Godmommy duties!”

“And I’m so glad you got to meet Spencer,” she said. You gulped. “I told you if anything ever happens to me and Will—“

“Then, it’s up to Spencer and I to make sure Henry gets into Yale. I remember.” You giggled.

“Exactly. Did you get to talk to him last night?”

You thought for a moment. You could tell her. But the baby was right there. And you clearly remembered her mentioning a date between her and Spencer years ago. Was it a can of worms you should open? You decided it wasn’t.

“Oh, no,” you shook your head. “Not as much as I wanted. I kind of went to bed early.”

“Ah, well, one day, I want you to meet the whole team. I think it’s about time. Don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

Over a month later, there was no word from Spencer. You thought about him often though. Where was he, what was he doing, was he thinking of you. Sappy shit. Then, you remembered, you knew exactly where he was. And you chose to visit the bullpen for the very first time.

You put on your tightest pair of jeans - the ones that made your butt look perky - and a spaghetti strap blouse that highlighted your chest. JJ told you that you looked beautiful and embraced you in a warm hug.

“This is such a surprise!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you! See where you worked, who you worked with, all that jazz.”

“Oh,” she giggled, rising from her seat. “Then let me give you the grand tour.”

You followed her aimlessly, only partially listening to his guidance, as you were primarily concerned with seeing Spencer. “That’s Derek, Emily, Penelope is in her office, and you remember Spencer.” She said.

Your eyes instantly found Spencer at his desk, the profiler already eyeing you with a knowing smile. You smiled back, “Of course. Hi, everyone.”

“Back there is our break room. Coffee, doughnuts. Want some?” JJ asked.

“Oh, yeah, coffee sounds great.” You nodded.

“I’ll get you some,” Spencer suddenly offered, rising from his seat and heading off before you could object.

“A nice little place you run here, J,” you whispered.

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t run it.”

“Well, you should.”

Spencer strolled up to you, a small styrofoam cup in his hand, and a great smile on his face. “Here you go. I put in cream and sugar. Hope that’s okay.”

“That’s perfect,” you told him. “Thank you.”

“Spence, you remember [y/n] from Henry’s birthday party? She’s his godmother.”

“Ah, so the one that’s going to help Henry get into Yale?” He chuckled.

You shook your head, “Me? No, no. I could barely get into community college. That’s all on you.”

The three of you laughed, and JJ shook her head at you. “Are you free for a quick lunch?” She asked.

“Of course! You ready?”

Your friend nodded and swung her arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked away. Spencer watched you as you stepped onto the elevator, taking a sip of your coffee. Only then, did you notice the slip of paper tucked into the lid. It contained a string of numbers, signed - Spencer :). You looked up at him, just as the elevator doors were closing.

The night, you called him. He came over. You had sex in a bed for the first time. And it was just as good as you remembered it. If not better. His hands pressed into your thighs, your legs bent over your head as he drilled into you, the sweat from his body dripping onto yours. Your tongues tangled with one another’s, your hands gripped at anything they could. It was hot. It was satisfying. You came twice, and Spencer came with his cock in your mouth.

As the two of you laid there afterwards, cuddled up and out of breath, Spencer kissed your forehead. “Missed you.” He said.

You hid your face as you grinned. “Uh, do you want your sweater back?”

“No. You keep it. Think of me when you see it.”

Little did he know that you thought about him all the time.

2 months later, his number was on speed dial in your phone. The job kept him busy most days, but weekends belonged to you. You’d be at his apartment friday to sunday, miss him for a week, and then fall into the same routine. It was bliss.

You’d be laying beside each other, completely fucked out and attempting to calm your breathing. “Do you—“ Spencer huffed. “Do you want kids some day?”

You furrowed your eyebrows together, sat up slowly and looked down at him. “Where the hell did that come from, Spencer?”

He shrugged, “I see how you are with Henry. Why don’t you have any of your own?”

You laughed, “Is that your way of saying you want to impregnate me?”

“Oh, don’t think that I haven’t thought about it,” he whispered, reaching over to hug you. “Go on a date with me, [y/n].”

You watched him say the words out loud, processing what it meant, waiting for your response. “A date?” You replied.

“A real date. Let me pick you at your place, and take you dancing, a movie, dinner, something. No sex involved.”

“No sex involved?”

“I mean,” he smirked. “Unless you want?”

“Hm, no, Spencer Reid, I’m not that kind of girl. You’re gonna have to wait until the fifth date for that.”

You made it to the fourth date before having sex again. But to be fair, those four dates were spectacular. Movies, dancing, dinner, some coffee dates sprinkled in. You were happy. And JJ could tell.

“Tell me who he is, [y/n].” JJ ordered, chuckling as she fixed you a cup of tea.

“Who? I told you, there’s no one. There’s no guy.”

“I call bullshit,” she shook her head. “You have been walking around way too happy and way too cocky to not be having sex with someone.”

“J—“

“And not to mention how many times you’ve blown me off to see him.”

“I did not blow you off.”

“Sorry, J,” she mocked your voice. “‘I’ve got an early day tomorrow.’ You? An early day on a Saturday?”

“I wanted to run some errands!”

She turned to you, “Errands? Now I know you’re seeing someone!”

“You’re crazy, J.”

You hated to lie to JJ. But it wasn’t the right time. Besides, at that point, 6 complete months had passed since Henry’s birthday party and you worried the lapse in time would upset her. There would be a time and place to announce the relationship.

4 months later - when you told JJ you were moving - she asked where to, and you still didn’t say ‘oh, Spencer’s place.’ Instead, you just told her it was close to her work.

Another 2 months passed and Henry was turning two. JJ insisted you come over to help her set up decorations the night before. You stepped on a ladder, hanging up Henry’s name in big, floppy letters.

“Hey, [y/n], did you pick up some wall tacks on your way over? I want to start putting up the other decorations.” JJ said.

“Yeah, they’re in my car. My keys are on the couch.”

JJ nodded, grabbed your keys and stepped out of the house to retrieve the items. You finally put up the letter ‘Y’ and stepped down to admire your handy work. You began to clean up the trash off the floor, packing into a large grocery bag and laying it to the side. You heard the door close, signaling JJ’s return.

“Hey, J,” you said, rummaging through the bag of decor. “Did you find the wall tacks? My car’s a little junky. And if you think that’s bad, you should see my room.” You laughed.

When you didn’t get a response after a few seconds, you turned around to look at JJ. She was standing here, holding a small item in her hand. Her face had lost its color and her breathing was still. She couldn’t - wouldn’t - look you in the eye.

“Why...” she started. “Is Spencer’s badge in your car?”

#mine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid/reader #spencer reidxreader #spencer reid smut #jennifer jareau #jj #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

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nightwingshero · 3 years

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Just gonna do my own little post from this tag I got from @water-writings because I’m about to get sappy. Under the gifs because apparently this is happening. Don’t look at me, because ewwwww, emotions.

OKAY, OBVIOUSLY I GOTTA START WITH YOU, MEL! Listen, you’re one of my closest friends on here, and I love our Little Shop of Horrors, okay? Its chaotic and fun, and honestly, I’m truly glad I met you. It’s been...what? Two years??? Which is CRAZY because it doesn’t feel like it, but then it feels like it’s been longer. You never fail to make me laugh when I’m feeling down and I love us talking about our ocs. Camille and Tracey, sure, but most of all, Amikel and Casali. Its never a good night out until Amikel throws a beer bottle to protect Casali. (Mando is tired, but Grogu is having the time of his life--its fine!)

@simonxriley - Seriously...like...okay, I look up to you because, to me, you’re like...a big name in the CoD fandom. I was terrified to talk to you lol but you’re a sweetheart and I love talking with you because you’re an awesome friend and your ideas? *chefs kiss*. I’m really glad to not only read your content and see the awesome stuff you come up with, but to also call you a friend. Your ocs own my ass, and there’s no shame in that at all. One of my favorite mutuals, you never fail to make me smilie.

@xbaebsae - OMFG WHERE TO EVEN START?! Angy, the Cindy to my Brenda, I remember absolutely fanning over Rheese and being like “omg her blog is so cool!!” and then choking??? When you commented on the post about Wren holding a butterknife to John’s throat while drunk??? After breaking into the Ranch with Rowan and Addie??? (It was a straight up drunken Mission Impossible escapade to get Nick’s plane back, but ended with them getting into John’s stash and clothes instead) It was the “omfg its happening” Michael Scott moment for me, and it grew into an awesome friendship that I’m so thankful for. You’re one of the sweetest people I know, and I couldn’t be more thankful to know you.

@dieguzguz - S A M! You’re a sweetie, always so supportive and the creativity you have???? I’ve always admired you and your work. We don’t talk as much as we used to, but you still hold a special place because you’re one of my dearest friends. Moose always makes me smile because he’s so cute??? Like??? It should be illegal??? I’m so happy to have you in my life and you deserve so many good things hun!

@chyrstis - SWEETIE!!! An absolute treasure! Honestly I’m like “don’t deserve this sweetheart on my dash” because you’re just amazing??? And supportive??? And so damn fun to talk to!!! I squealed when we started talking about Alistair, because it was just another thing you and I could talk about, and I’m just AAHHHHH, you’re so much fun to talk to!!! Truly!!! I’m so happy we’re friends, because your comments always make me laugh!!! Always!!!

@strafethesesinners - Lydia, you’re one of my closest friends, truly. I still can’t get over some of the AUs we’ve talked about but honestly, outside of that, you’re one of the most genuine and nice people I’ve ever met. You always have amazing ideas and I’m constantly in awe of you. Cooper is so well thought out and your art????? I can’t believe I went so long without knowing you were the one to draw John in a speedo??? Like...that was one of my favorite things, how did I not know that??? You’re a legend, my friend, and I’m happy to know you!

@smithandrogers - okay so...I remember like...being intimidated, so like...when we started talking, I was super excited! And now we’re friends who boop the noses of cows because they deserve it! Listen, I’m so thankful for you, because gushing about our ocs, and just talking, is just...it honestly cheers me up. And talking shit about the Egg is self-care, you know? And omfg, remember Finn and Wren’s fishing incident?! I still think about that!!! I’m always happy to hear from you! (Please give the cow another boop, tell it I said hi!) I’m just glad to call you a friend!!!

@shellibisshe - Buddy...listen. You’re talented, you’re fun to talk to, and honestly, you’re such an awesome friend. i know we talk here and there, but omfg. You’re just...you’re one of the sweetest people on here. Always quick to include people, always welcoming and supportive...I really do love talking to you (I’m just really bad at messaging lol it’s a problem). I’m glad we’re mutuals, but most of all, I’m so glad I get to call you a friend. (and trust me, you wanna ship ocs, we can ship ocs lmfao take your pick lol)

#tag game #okay just gonna #go hide #and pretend that i didn't get weird on tumblr #don't look at me

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hetacon · 4 years

Text

Stick Up For Me and We’ll See Where That Gets You

Word Count; 1,400

Pairing: Prinxiety

Warning: Swearing, crying, slight reference to Virgil and Janus not having the best relationship, Roman is insecure

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Summary: Roman can’t help but notice as Virgil has started to look out for him more. He’s not quite sure but he intends to find out.

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Note: This story takes place after “Flirting With Anxiety” and follows my main thoughts and overall analysis of the episode which you can find here!

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Roman was extremely confused on what had been happening with Virgil lately.

Sure, Virgil was a pretty decent guy and he was much easier to get along with than he had been a while ago (granted that Roman himself had stopped critiquing him so harshly) but this was insanely bizarre.

Virgil, for some reason, had been giving Roman a lot of his attention since one of their most recent trips to the mall. Normally the anxious side wouldn’t have so much as left his room unless they needed his input on something or were doing their scheduling for the week (per Logan’s request as no one else really remembered to do so) but he was just... around more.

Whenever Roman would be out and about, he started noticing Virgil tucked into the couch in the living room, listening to his music. The stranger thing was that he had one of his earbuds out. Roman supposed it was due to wanting to stay vigilant and prepared but he never knew. They actually started to hang out more as a result and rather than stay cooped up in his room alone, Roman would sometimes bring his work to the couch. He sat a fairly comfortable distance from Virgil, making sure to give him room but still provide him company. Roman assumed he wasn’t supposed to see it but every time he worked down there, Virgil always smiled to himself as he looked at his phone.

Another thing Roman definitely started to notice was Virgil making a point that they needed to listen to Roman more. Sure, it felt really nice and Roman always had to try and hide a smile but Virgil never used to do this. He never really tried to steer them in any one direction since they’d accepted him. They’d always run into difficulties before Virgil had ducked out, he had been trying to get their attention beforehand, but it was never on the behalf of one of the others. Roman really failed to see why Virgil singled him out specifically though. Even if they were on better terms, Virgil really didn’t need to, he honestly seemed to be going out of his way to do it.

“Guys, you literally just interrupted Roman for the third time today,” Virgil grumbled out, blowing some of his bangs out of his face.

Roman looked over to Virgil with a confused look before laughing a little. “Oh, it’s alright, I didn’t have much to say Virgil! It’s ok,” he said with a slightly awkward smile. He wasn’t quite willing to admit that his cheeks flushed pink in that moment though at Virgil’s gesture.

After the meeting that day was over and another dilemma solved, Roman was about ready to start up a bath for himself and sing out the entirety of the Disney anthology. He stopped himself as Virgil cast him a subtle glance.

“Er.. Virge? Can I talk to you for a second? It’s nothing bad per say or anything! Just so you know, I know that phrasing is troublesome, oh anxious one,” he chuckled, glad to see as Virgil’s shoulders relaxed.

Virgil sat down on the couch and nodded. “What’s up?”

Roman sat down next to him and awkwardly fiddled with his hands for a moment, thinking about how to word this. “I guess I wanted to ask why you’ve been sticking up for me..? Like with today’s meeting and when you pushed a Thomas to talk to Nico and just... I dont know, you’ve been doing it a lot. I’m just not exactly a damsel in distress, I’m doing alright. You don’t need to stress over how I’m feeling so much,” he tried, trying to sift through Virgil’s expressions but not finding much.

“You’re not weak if you think that that’s what I’m thinking,” Virgil told him.

“No no, it’s not anything like that!” Roman exclaimed before pausing. “Ok, maybe a little. But I know that’s not your fault and it’s not your intention either because I trust you! I just wanted to know, it’s a bit of a ridiculous thing to worry about!”

Virgil took a deep breath, thinking for a moment. “I hate seeing you sad,” he started, looking across the room, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What?” Roman asked after a moment, blinking.

“Mhm, that’s what I said Princey, you struggling to keep up today?” Virgil chuckled a little. “Though really, I know sadness is a part of life and shit and you’re not going to feel happy all the time but the others haven’t been listening to you enough. You need to know you have someone who’s got your back, it’s terrifying being on your own.”

Roman slowly nodded. Virgil did have a point there and his implication that he was trying to support Roman really did things with his heart but he tried to push them back. He still didn’t see the full picture of why Virgil would be doing this.

Sensing Roman’s confusion, Virgil kept talking. “I just know that things since the wedding have been bad. I have no idea what the actual fuck happened after we got back from it but Jesus Christ cause it been suffocating. I just wanted to give you something to hold on and let you know that you can have your own goddamn opinions. Patton and.. Janus-“ Virgil made a face at the name as if it felt weird to say. “Have been seeing more eye-to-eye than I thought was actually possible but they’re ignoring you and holy shit am I tired of it. I just want you to argue with me again. It’s frustrating not having you fight with me, you making jabs at me when we met Nico felt normal. I just want that Roman back, the Roman who has an idea of what he means to people. Oh god, that was sappy, sorry to dump all that on you.”

Roman nodded, taking a few deep breaths. Virgil really felt this way about him?

“Well, I suppose that makes sense... But still, I know you don’t like confrontation, this means you’re dealing with more of it aren’t you? I refuse to let you do so if it causes you distress!” Roman told his anxious companion.

Virgil leaned his head against Roman’s shoulder and Roman felt his heart stop for a single moment.

“I love you more than I’m afraid of sticking up for you, it’s worth a little panic to me,” Virgil muttered out softly.

Something in Roman broke and he felt tears streaming down his cheeks at that. He quickly tried to cover up his face but Virgil just put a hand on Roman’s lap, an offer for Roman to take it if he wanted. Roman instead opted for pulling Virgil into a tight hug, burying his face into Virgil’s hoodie.

Virgil just stayed like that with him for a while, hugging back as tight as he could. It felt nice to have Virgil holding on as if he’d disappear at any moment. Virgil wanted him there. While Roman would’ve immediately shut down that train of thought, he couldn’t avoid that Virgil was literally bypassing all his worst fears just to help Roman out. Roman cried harder.

“We’re gonna figure it out ok? Even though I’m literally a nervous wreck, we’re gonna figure out how to help Thomas. We’re gonna figure out how to help you too, Roman,” Virgil said lowly, holding on to him a bit longer. Roman was almost sad when the hug was over but he was just happy Virgil was there.

“Thank you,” he chuckled out, wiping away tears. Virgil got him a tissue and Roman laughed, crying more at the gesture before kissing Virgil’s cheek without a second thought, Virgil’s only reaction being an undignified squeak as Roman practically threw both of them further into the couch cushions.

Virgil ran a hand through his hair before clearing his throat, looking more flustered than Roman had ever seen him. “You uh... You missed,” Virgil muttered as he looked off to the side.

Roman smiled widely as he cupped Virgil’s cheeks, causing the anxious side to look back at him, a small sheepish smile overtaking his own features. As Virgil smiled, Roman leaned in and kissed him giddily.

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Taglist: @spookijam, @its-the-cat-queen, @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog

#sanders sides #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #stan writing

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fangirlovestuff · 4 years

Text

The Heart Wants What it Wants - Chris Evans x reader pt.3

a/n- Hey lovely people! hope you’re all doing great! I know i’ve said this is the last chapter, but I was thinking about making an epilouge of sorts from Chris’ perspective... anyone interested? if yes please tell me! italics are for thoughts/memories and bold italics is text messeges. Also you know the drill... summary is from pinterest. Hope you enjoy <3

part 2

Summary: You either say how you feel and fuck it up or say nothing and let it fuck you up instead.

Warnings: age gap, a little angst

It's been 10 months since the last time you saw him, at that bar. You tried to give up the habit of counting, but it was useless. You went on a couple dates, but it was a waste of time. You had almost resigned to your fate of being an old maid, married to your job.

Now, you were sitting in Scarlett's kitchen, munching on some chocolate chip cookies you'd just baked together. You never told Scarlett about Chris, about your… thing. How could you? You had no idea what would she say, how she would react. Would she tell you it's a good thing you weren't together? Would she tell you to move on? Or would she tell you something else, more positive? You didn’t know, and the thought was giving you a headache.

"Spill it," Scarlett said, sitting down next to you after she finished putting all the dishes in the sink. She picked up a cookie and took a bite, making an appreciative face. "You've been zoned out all day. What's going on?"

"Nothing," you finished your cookie and picked up another. You shrugged at Scarlett's inquisitive look.

"Alright, you leave me no choice." She got up, taking the plate of fresh cookies with her and backing away before you realized what she was doing. "No more cookies for you until you tell me what's wrong." She put the plate down on the counter and stood in front of it, her hands crossed on her chest.

"Noooo," you whined. You could just get up, but you were a little tired from hiding such a big portion of your thoughts from Scarlett. She was pretty much your mentor in everything else, what's the harm in telling her? It’s just one person who you trust and love.

"C'mon, keeping things in is never the answer," Scarlett urged you.

You had been distant all day. It was just one of these days you were deep in your head about love and life and whatnot. Scarlett deserved an explanation – it was one of the rare days you could spend together, given your often conflicting schedules. And honestly, you just wanted a hug, someone to comfort you and tell you it's all gonna be okay. You hoped Scarlett would do that and not something else, but you trusted her.

You sighed deeply. "I'm sorry for being distant," you started. "It's just… there's this guy. And well, he's wonderful really. I met him like two years ago." Scarlett was smart, so you needed to… compartmentalize, twist the facts a little. You wanted to share your own struggle with her, not Chris', especially because she knew him. "We hit it off, but it ended up not working out. And I just can't seem to leave him behind. I met him again some time ago, that's why I was distracted."

"Who was it? I don't remember you telling me about anyone special two years ago," Scarlett furrowed her brow.

"You don't know everything about me," you said in a mock-mysterious tone, smirking.

"So, what's stopping you from leaving him behind?"

"Well, I can't stop thinking about the what ifs. What if we would've been great together? What if he was the love of my life and I let him go?" you said, taking a sip of water.

"The love of your life are big words to describe someone. He must've had a pretty big-" she started smiling and you swatted her across the arm, nearly choking on your drink. If she knew who she was talking about, she DEFINITELY would've not said that.

"I was gonna say heart!" she sent you an innocent look and you gave her a "cut the bullshit" one. "Anyways," she continued, unbothered, "If you feel like that, why not just go back to him? Ask him for a second chance."

"It's not that easy," you smiled bitterly. "There was a pretty good reason why it didn't work."

She nodded her head at you, expecting you to elaborate. "Let's just say there were things we weren't willing to give up on for the sake of our relationship."

"Alright, go ahead, be mysterious," she smiled fondly. You knew that was her 'you're so young and innocent' smile, but you appreciated that she didn't voice the thought out loud and treated you overall seriously. "Look, maybe things changed. I still think you should ask him."

"Thanks," you got up and gave her a hug, reaching behind her for the plate of cookies and grabbing another one. She laughed when you released her to take a bite.

"What do you wanna watch?" she asked, bringing the plate with her as you both went to the living room, sitting down on the couch.

"Something really really sappy."

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

Another night in the public eye, you thought bitterly as you eyed the roomful of strangers with fancy dresses and suits. Some of them actors and actresses, directors, creatives, and some of them there for media coverage. Ever since that night at the bar a year ago, you couldn't help but look at the industry with bitter criticism for taking your happiness away from you, in a sense.

You turned back to the conversation with a forced smile on your face.

"Oh no, I really don't think I'm gonna get it," Scarlett laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear gently. She was up for a 'best actress in a drama movie' tonight, and everyone but her was convinced she was going to win. Your eyes roamed around the room again, unable to stay interested in the polite small-talk. You took in the elegant décor of the room that was filling with familiar faces by the minute. Everyone was all smiles and polite interest; "oh, I heard you did that movie with…", "That's a beautiful dress!", "Who are you here with?" and similar questions were spoken abundantly throughout the room.

Your eyes stopped on the back of a suit jacket. At first you were just staring into space, not really focused on what you were seeing but rather listening to different conversations around you. But then the man wearing the suit moved a little, still talking to someone, but that shook you from your blank stare. You registered the black suit jacket filled up nicely with broad shoulders, moving your gaze to his neck and the back of his head, soft brown hair looking appealing to touch. He turned around, his profile now within your sight, and you felt your breath get caught in your throat. How didn't you recognize him?

You couldn’t resist – your gaze traveling over his features; his long lashes, bright eyes, flushed cheeks, beautiful lips, broad shoulders covered in a black tailored suit-jacket.

Shit, what am I doing? You averted your gaze quickly before he would notice you staring. He was talking to someone and he had a beautiful girl on his arm. Knowing Chris' track record, she could've easily been just a friend, but rationality has never been known to be a worthy adversary to jealousy. You took a sharp breath. The feeling panged through you, making your muscles clench, your body tensing up. You forcefully pushed him out of your mind, willing yourself to relax and be sensible. He's not yours, he never will be, whispered a thousand voices in your head. Shut up, you thought back.

You and Scarlett took your seats in one of the first rows. Chris was sitting somewhere behind you, and you could've sworn you felt his gaze travel across your neck, shoulders, back, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. Either way, his presence felt awfully prominent to you.

The night went by in a blur, award after award being handed out to people, some genuinely grateful and excited, some looking too smug for the occasion in your opinion. You tried to pay attention, but simply couldn't. Maybe you were tired, maybe the ceremony was just boring, but you just didn't have the willpower to stop your thoughts from wandering all over the place. Is Chris looking at me? Should I try to look back at him? Are we gonna talk tonight? What good would that do? Ok, focus on the ceremony… But maybe we still stand a chance? If we talk tonight, should I tell him I've changed my mind? That we should go for this no matter what? Maybe things changed, you remembered yours and Scarlett's conversation from a couple of months ago. No, that's just the boring ceremony talking, this industry is your life, you're gonna regret this. Or maybe you're not, maybe loving him will be better than anything else… Oh you've loved him this long and nothing's changed! Ugh, I mean being in a relationship! Maybe this time-

"And now, presenting the award for best actress in a drama movie…"

The conversation you were having with yourself in your head got cut off by the announcement for Scarlett's category. You abandoned your thoughts immediately, grabbing Scarlett's hand and squeezing it in encouragement. She smiled back at you, shaking her head. You raised her eyebrows at her, nodding playfully. You both giggled and she turned her head as the camera showing the nominees focused on her, waving a little.

"And this year's best actress in a drama movie is… Scarlett Johansson!" The crowd applauded and the camera focused on Scarlett once more, her face drawn into a huge shocked smile. She covers her mouth with her hands excitedly before hurriedly getting up, her dress swaying around her in elegant drips of fabric as she makes her way to receive her well-deserved award.

"Thank you!" Scarlett smiles from her place up on the stage, the award clutched tightly in her hands as she speaks into the microphone. "I honestly never believed I would win tonight, I had some amazing competition," she gestures at the other nominees and the crowd applauds once more. "I'd like to say a huge thank you to everyone who worked on this movie with me, you've made it such an incredible experience, and thank you to my family and my friends," you blew a kiss at her from your seat as the camera moved to show you, "for loving me and inspiring me. Have a wonderful night everyone!" she grinned once more and went behind the curtain to the side of the stage.

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

Later that night you were once again in an after party, but this time you dragged Scarlett along - "You won an award! You've gotta celebrate somehow!"

You were sitting in a relatively secluded table with Scarlett, drinking as people came to congratulate her on her win. She kept smiling at every single one of them, thanking them like they were the only ones who said it, and you really didn't know from where she has this amount of energy. If this would have been you instead of Scarlett, you probably would have snapped at some of them already. Hell, you were close to doing it anyway. Your as-of-late bitter attitude towards the film industry plus the fact you couldn't have a conversation alone with your friend for more than one minute before getting interrupted made you grumpy. You sulked as you took another sip of your drink.

In the sea of people coming to congratulate Scarlett, there was one you actually didn't mind seeing that much. Your head snapped up when you recognized his deep voice, "You deserve it, you really do," you tuned into the conversation.

"Thanks Chris," Scarlett smiled fondly at her former costar and he returned it. "This is-" she started to introduce you before she realized, "Oh wait, you've met before, right? At that party like five or six years ago?"

You didn't know if it was the light playing tricks on you but it seemed like Chris' cheeks flushed a little. "Yeah, I remember," he smiled and extended his hand, "great to re-meet you," he said as you shook his hand. "Yeah, you too," you smiled at him, thanking god you were both good actors and sober enough for this.

"God, you two looked so engrossed in conversation that I left earlier that night," Scarlett reminisced, "You looked like you'd take a while and I didn’t wanna spoil your fun," she chuckled.

"Yeah, it was a great conversation," he smiled politely.

Chris laughing at something you said, stroking his beard as he listened to you, talking about his family, talking about sports passionately. Chris' hands on your hips, yours against his chest, his mouth on your body, your tongues battling for dominance as you push his shirt up over his head. The memories of that night hit you like a truck. It took all your willpower to push them aside and send him a tight smile back.

"See you around," he nodded at the both of you and turned away. He started walking and you and Scarlett used the few seconds to talk between you. From the corner of your eye, you saw Chris turn back to sneak a look at you. You gulped as you were listening to Scarlett talking about whatever it was. Your heart fluttered in your chest because he turned back. You remembered the night at the bar, how he didn't turn back, how he left you feeling the worst you've felt in a long time. You didn't know if it was for the better or not, but Scarlett was right; something did change.

After a few minutes you excused yourself from the table and headed to the balcony for some fresh air. The party was at a fancy penthouse, so you allowed yourself to enjoy the privilege of the cool night air as you processed your thoughts. You gripped the railing with your hands as you thought it all over - you and Chris, the advice Scarlett gave you, that night at the bar. You felt like you were drowning; engulfed by silence but certainly not peaceful, trying to see the clear picture, your next move.

The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps behind you. You didn't move, thinking it was just someone who came out here to smoke and won't bother you. But they were getting closer, sand a pair of strong, familiar arms leaned on the railing next to you.

"Gonna throw me down?" you chuckled bitterly while you raised your eyes to meet his cool blue ones.

"Now why would I do that?" he smiled.

Flashes of sentences you said that day entered your mind, taking on a new meaning from his perspective - "I can't give up on my dream job, I should have given up on us… I don't want you, go away…"

"I don’t know, I figured the way things ended when we last saw each other you wouldn't be the biggest fan of me."

"It's okay. Not a wonderful apology but I'll take it."

You huffed, "I wasn't apologizing, just saying facts." You raised your eyebrow. "But I am really sorry," you sighed, "for everything."

"As I said, it's okay," he smiled.

You both remained quite for a while, standing next to each other looking at the lights below and the stars above, each lost in your own thoughts. After a few minutes you shivered slightly, the cold getting to you and making the exposed skin on your arms fill with goosebumps. You let out a shaky breath, wrapping your hands around yourself. Chris' gaze turned to you, hurriedly taking of his suit jacket and wrapping it around you.

"No, Chris it’s fine, really, you'll get cold without it," you tried to resist, but he wouldn't have it. His hands kept the jacket tight around you, and you could feel the warmth of his palms even through the material. The jacket was warm and smelled like Chris, but you knew it was nothing but a pale imitation.

Chris' look was stern. "Fine," you surrendered, adjusting the jacket around your shoulders.

"So, how've you been?" you asked after a couple of seconds.

"In general? Good I guess. In regards to you? Broody."

You let out a chuckle. "I appreciate the honesty. If it makes you feel any better, I haven't exactly been a ray of sunshine either."

"Damn. The universe really did a number on us didn't it?" Chris smiled sadly, looking up at the moon.

"You believe in the power of the universe? Like, the power it has over us?" You ignored half of his statement.

"Well, I think however you look at it the universe has some form of power over humanity. We're like a pebble in its shoe." He raised his eyebrows at you.

"That annoying, huh? I feel like you may be overestimating the human race here."

He let out a small laugh. "Yeah, maybe. But no matter if you're looking at it from a religious, superstitious or scientific standpoint, the universe is factually enormous, way bigger than us, therefore has more effect on, well, everything."

"Yeah, I get your point. I was asking more about the preordained and stuff," you remarked.

"I don't really know where I stand on in that matter," Chris answered. A small silence followed before you answered.

"Well, to offer my two cents on it – we get dealt certain cards, whether it be by chance, God, our star chart or the freaking, I don't know, Flying Spaghetti Monster," you both chuckled, "so there are things that are beyond our understanding and our control. But we have choices, plenty of them."

"Sometimes it doesn’t feel like that," Chris sighed.

"Not all the choices are good ones."

You both got lost in your thoughts once more, the silence settling between you. You thought about how you couldn't make him have that choice. What if it doesn't work out and you just lost a lot of support for nothing? What if he doesn’t want you anymore? Maybe that's what changed.

"I love that about us," Chris sarcastically broke the silence. You sent him a quizzical look and he continued. "How we can talk about the meaning of the universe before we'd talk about what's actually bothering us."

"Well, it is a very interesting conversation," you smiled sadly.

He sighed, his eyes closing, making his eyelashes flutter across his cheeks. "I can't stop thinking about it. Us." He looked up at you, making your breath hitch. "I just… whatever this is, it's gonna hunt me for the rest of my life if I don’t explore it the furthest I can."

"Curiosity killed the cat," you replied.

"But satisfaction brought it back," Chris quipped back. "Don't you feel the same way I do? Because if you don't, I'll leave it. We can never talk again if that's what you want. But I don't think you do."

"You don't know what I want," you replied softly, feeling the cracks in your heart pry open again.

"You’re right, I don't. But I know what I want. I want to take you out to dinner. I want to kiss you again, without feeling like I'm hurting you. I want to know you, no hesitation or forced boundaries. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. For years I've convinced myself it's wrong, that we would never work out. But it doesn't work out with anyone else either. If you'll have me, I don’t care what happens. I'm willing to take that risk. I'm willing to regret you for the rest of my life." His eyes bore into yours and your breath caught at the intensity of the moment, the raw emotion in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Chris, I…" you swallowed and licked your lips. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, about us, for a really long time now. And I don't think I would ever forgive myself if I continued to push you away." You stepped into his space, face moving up to meet his gaze. "I want this. Maybe even more than anything I've ever wanted. So screw them," you gestured to the roomful of people behind the balcony door, "because I'm tired of holding back."

"Then don't," Chris whispered softly. Your hands went up to cup his face as you brought your lips together. At first it was tentative, a touch of warm lips in the cold night air. Then his tongue was entering your mouth, kissing you like your mouth was air and he was a man drowning, the desperation evident in the way he was devouring you. He pulled you against him, his warmth enveloping you as one hand went to the small of your back and the other to cup the back of your head. You wrapped your hands around his neck, kissing him with passion only he could awaken. Your heart fluttered in your chest, you felt free.

You pulled away to breath, looking into his eyes. And it finally clicked; the answer you were looking for right there in front of you. Being in Chris' arms again felt like coming home. Your heart finally felt healed. How could you have thought you were able to let this man go? The pure truth ringed in your brain – I love him. And you couldn't say it yet, because it would sound ridiculous. But something in you knew. Instead you opted for something more casual.

"Let's get outta here," you said and pecked his lips.

"Oh no, we're doing this right." He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, which was still on you, and took out his phone. "Here, gimmie your number," he murmured against your cheek and pulled away, extending his phone to you. You typed in your number, an amused smile on your face, and returned the phone to him.

"So?" you asked.

"So, we get back in, which by the way, it's a miracle no one has seen us yet."

You giggled at that, "Guess the universe is on our side after all?"

"Maybe," Chris smiled. "Anyway, we get back inside, and tomorrow I'm gonna call you and then take you on an actual date. How does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect," you grinned and pecked his cheek. "Here, take your jacket back," you handed it to him. He took it back and put it on, taking your hand and squeezing it once before going back inside. You stayed outside for a couple of seconds, making sure you look respectable before following him back inside.

Later that night you were already home, drying off your hair from your shower when you heard your phone buzz with a text. It was an unknown number.

"See you tomorrow, goodnight

-CE"

You smiled and saved his number before texting him goodnight back.

That night you fell asleep with a smile on your face. No matter what happens next, you'll have him by your side, and that's more than enough.

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hear-me-growl · 4 years

Text

Ambrosia | Ksj | Chapter V

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ Aᴏ3 || Dɪᴏɴʏsᴜs ·ᴘᴜʙ· ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀᴘᴏsᴛ || ↻ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut, humor, fluff | s2l > ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: millionaire!Seokjin x bartender!, nyotaimori model!Reader > ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mature [+18]; strong language and explicit sex > ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.9k

sᴇʀɪᴇs ɪɴᴅᴇx || ⟵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪᴠ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴠɪ ⟶

💙 ᴀ/ɴ: holy shit, this one’s is a big boy. This chapter has been a nightmare. I’ve been stuck on it for weeks. I had it planned and all, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. The tone was getting way too angsty, so I rewrote the whole thing multiple times. 😩 Hopefully you guys like the end result!

Next chapter will be the final one, I think? Depends on how carried away I get 😅 Is anyone else excited for these two idiots? Let me know!

“My head is killing me.”

“Lightweight.”

A streak of sunlight filtering through the curtains reminded you both that life went on outside your smelly apartment. You opened the window to let in some fresh air, which makes your friend shriek and hide under the blanket. Last night’s scraps —half eaten chips and pulp-less lemon wedges— came to life under the light. The leftover still life accentuated the taste of alcohol on your mouth and you walked to the kitchen in need of something to wash it off.

Best friend bonding nights ended up inevitably in hungover mornings. That is, using the term “morning” loosely. It was a routine you both had perfected. First you sneaked shots at work and went to your apartment after closing. Then you did even more shots, talking and laughing over whatever sappy movie you were pretending to watch. Last but not least, you both fell asleep on the couch Tetris-style.

At the sound of you waking up, your cat-shaped demon strutted proudly towards you. She tangled between your legs, making you trip to avoid stepping on her and hitting something in the process. With a curse, you rubbed your sore knee while trying to remember where you set her food last time. She was a genius glutton, so you had to change the hiding spot constantly. Otherwise she would get to it, no matter how high or locked it was. Impatient, the feline followed you around. Shortie joined her high pitched meows, complaining about the noise. As you exited the bathroom with her precious pebbles, the feline purred happily. You kept the light on for your best friend, who hurried inside to purge any leftover mistakes from her stomach.

The flush went on while you poured some juice for her. Wiping her chin, she joined you in the kitchen with a grimace.

“I’m too small to drink that much. Never again.”

“You always say that and never keep your word.”

“Don’t expect it to be any different this time,” she downed the glass desperate to wash off the taste.

“At least you’re consistent,” you quipped.

Sitting on the counter, you pushed a plate towards her before chomping on your breakfast. While you hummed a song you couldn’t remember, Shortie eyed the butter as it melted on golden bread for a minute. An annoyed groan brought you back from your thoughts.

“Ughhh… I’m pretty sure I’m gonna puke last night all over again.”

“Are you dissing my breakfast-making skills?” You turned to her, quirking a brow. Her eyes widened, and she shook her arms, making a fuss.

“No, no! It looks amazing, really, but my stomach is—”

“Chill,” you interrupted her with a satisfied grin. “I’m just messing with you.”

“I hate you,” she glared while you picked up her plate. No way you’d let it go to waste. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the new toaster.”

The incredulous look you gave her, as if she hit her head somewhere, made Shortie giggle. She could tell you appreciated her gift. Bribe. There was a blurry line between those terms.

“Not enjoying, loving. Bitch, have you seen it? It’s yellow and says ‘I loaf you’. I loaf you. This is the peak of my existence,” you raved between mouthfuls.

“Well, at least you got something out of dating a millionaire...”

“Don’t start with your Seokjin crusade,” you warned with a groan. What nice way to ruin breakfast.

“What? I didn’t say anything yet?”

Feigned innocence always looked good on her, all doe-eyed and pouty, brows sloping at the end. She took advantage of it whenever she could, but hungover you wasn’t having it.

“I mean it,” you hopped off the counter, rounding her to wash the dishes. “It’s too early for that shit.”

“It's past 12.”

“Exactly,” you grunted.

Just a few seconds passed, silence only disrupted by your scrubbing. Your friend nibbled her lip as she did when she mulled over something.

“Well, it’s not like those old ones you are used to, but I’m happy you like the thing,” she chirped, standing next to the toaster. “You should listen to me more often. I mean, look at it! Beautiful, elegant, funny and it definitely knows how to toast your bread.”

Her hand slid across the shiny surface distractedly, but still scanned your reactions from the corner of her eye.

“Very subtle.”

Ever since she met Seokjin at the bar, he seemed fixed on the idea of you dating him. She managed to shift the conversation towards him one way or another. A skill as impressive as it was irritating.

“He came by the other day. Again. I forgot to tell you.”

“Thanks for the report, soldier, but you don’t need to notify me every time he shows up. I don’t care.”

“The best sex you’ve ever had crosses Seoul, sits alone and orders a single drink just for a chance of seeing you. It’s my moral obligation to let you know.”

“He might like the place,” you shrugged.

Shortie closed the faucet to get your full attention. No need to take a look at her to know exactly the frown she wore —the one that made you feel like a child being scolded. In a weak attempt to avoid it, you left the kitchen. She followed you closely, not giving you a chance to escape.

“He likes you.”

“I’m flattered.” Unfazed, you slumped on the couch.

“We talked for a bit, you know? Poor guy wanted to know why are you avoiding him,” she continued as she sat beside you.

“Poor guy? Not your finest word choice,” you snickered, triggering an exasperated eye roll.

“I don’t get you. You say you don’t give a damn, but you hide under the counter whenever he shows up. You won’t respond to his texts, but you read them all. You say he’s just another random hookup, but then admit it felt different —good different.”

“When did I say that?”

“Last night,” she chuckled implishly, reaching for an empty bottle on the floor and shaking it teasingly. “You always spill your guts with tequila.”

She kept her gaze fixed on you. Shifting a bit, you scratched your neck to relieve the uncomfortable itch of the conversation. Why did she have to press you on the matter? If he was so damn perfect, she should marry him. You’d even hold her up for the kiss to spare him the back pains.

“Your point is?”

“Stop being so stubborn and give him a chance. Not just for him, for you too. I know you don’t need it, but you deserve someone who takes good care of you. He’s into you and you’re into him, so what’s the problem?”

“I’m not—”

“Nope, can’t fool me,” she grinned. “I see the way you look at your phone. Sorry to break it out to you, but he’s got you hooked.”

“Ok, now I know you’re still drunk. He’s the opposite of my type.”

“Your type is crap. Plus we both know that’s not the reason why you push him away.” She took a breath after rolling your eyes and occupied yourself with a loose thread on the blanket. “It’s been three years since your ex, I think you should give Jin a try.”

“Hey! We agreed not to talk about The Maggot.”

A well-deserved nickname for that wormy bastard. Just a few months with him, you’d reached the lowest point in your life. He feasted on the lack of self-love you’d accumulated through the years and wrecked all the progress you’d made since leaving home. He seemed to grow bigger the more wounded and hurt you were, so he made sure you felt like shit. Thus: The Maggot.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she stuck her tongue out when your face puckered. “Give him a chance, not everyone is like that jerk.”

“Since your weird obsession with Seokjin is clogging those cute ears, I’ll say it again: I don’t want a relationship. It always ends up being a mess, I end up a mess and I’m tired of it. I’d rather have fun, no strings attached,” you shrugged.

“Look, babe,” the sudden tenderness in her voice formed a knot that you forced down your throat. “I know better than anyone that you’ve been hurt before. I get it, it’s scary. There’s nothing wrong with hookups, if that is what makes you happy. Just don’t let all the assholes before Jin scare you out of love. It doesn’t suit you, you’ve always been the fierce one.”

The both of you stayed like that for a while. Shortie rubbed circles on your back, waiting patiently for you to sort things out on your own. She wanted to hug you, but you knew she wouldn't push you anymore and you appreciated her understanding. With a heavy sigh, you turned to her.

“Let’s just take another nap, I have work tonight.”

“Ok,” she complied with a bright smile that made you forget the mess in your head before pointing to the couch. “But, please, not on this spine-wrecker.”

Late. Again.

The red bulb shined mockingly, brighter as seconds passed. The erratic drum of your fingers on the wheel only unnerved you further, but they had a mind of their own. Tonight’s event was big and you’ve spent extra time pampering yourself to look your best. No one wants sushi on hairy legs. However, your cat decided that it was as good a day as any to battle the living room lamp, which hit the glass coffee table when defeated. To top your exasperation, she had the audacity to look upset at your scolding. Insolent punk.

You arrived at the location, a tall mirror reflecting Seoul back at you and checked the address once more. Top floor, naturally. What was with businesspeople and heights? Must be nice constantly looking at the world from above. You checked yourself in the lift’s mirror, to put any hair that got wild with the rush back in place. Tapping your foot, you glared at the numbers passing by on the screen. For a spaceship-like elevator, it was pretty damn slow. Just your luck, Tanaka was in the kitchen tonight. Whenever you worked with him, you found a new level of stress you didn’t know you could reach. Being the best sushi chef at the catering, he could make anyone lose their job just by saying the word. To add to your luck, he hated your guts. You became his least favourite model since that one time you might have showed up a bit tipsy. However you absolutely did not fall asleep as he claimed, just rested your sight —two minutes maximum. Guests didn’t even notice. Next thing you knew, he was yelling something about his art being disrespected by a westerner, berserk mode on. So he definitely wouldn’t take well you being late. You sighed heavily, hoping that at least the froth coming from his mouth didn’t spray in your direction.

Ding

Shit. Tanaka had to be furious, he never texted. Hell, he barely even talked to you. Reluctantly, you unlocked your phone, mentally prepared for a scolding. You breathed once you saw the screen —Kim freaking Seokjin and his timing. Numbers increased in slow motion as you considered answering. You really should ignore him, but there were fifteen floors left. Enough time for you to try to get through his thick skull that you wouldn’t go out with him again.

Doors opened suddenly and you jumped a bit. Moment of truth. Anyone else would’ve been scared of the pair of sharp eyes that greeted you —disintegrating every single cell in your body— but you were no coward. After an uncomfortable apology, you took off your clothes and laid on the table so he could begin his artistry.

You found out that Tanaka was even scarier when he gave the silent treatment. As you felt him and his kitchen helpers place food and decorations on your skin, you simply stared at the ceiling. Soon enough your head filled with a bit of everything: shopping list, your dad’s iconic moustache, the lightbulb that needed changing… Eventually, your mind gravitated to Seokjin. It was a common occurrence these days, much to your distaste. Not only did he show up at the bar or texted randomly, he had to pop into your head too. He just made way through your mind, pushing aside everything else. As if you didn’t have anything better to think about. Even his abstract self could be an arrogant jerk.

Was it cruel to let him believe that you were out with someone else? Perhaps, but that was your last resort to keep him at bay. Most likely looking for round two, he’d been persistent —obnoxiously persistent. To be honest, you couldn’t blame him. On a scale of one to ten, your night together made the scale its bitch. After almost a month, you still found yourself spacing out thinking about it. A little guilty pleasure that you’d never admit out loud.

Of course you could always give in. You’d call, ask about his day and go somewhere nice just to end up in his bed again. You could’ve stayed that morning with him instead of running away. But you knew those deals already. Love always came with fine print. Jealous outbursts even when they were the cheater or nasty comments about the things you were proud of. Maybe they enjoyed making you feel small and worthless just so they could look better next to you, like The Maggot. Or perhaps they just wanted to fuck the dumb, foreign girl because “she’s a freak in bed”. The list went on. No one knew better —you’d been through all of them. Dangerous men, all wrapped with charming personalities and big smiles to distract from the trail of broken hearts behind them. Given how your face lit up whenever your screen did, Seokjin was one to be especially careful around. His unread texts meant trouble.

Blocking his number would’ve been the smartest solution. Quick, like ripping off a bandaid. Still, there was a part of you that wanted to wait and see if he’d grow tired of chasing after you and go find an easier target. Not if, when. So far, he’d lasted longer than you expected.

A heavy sigh was your queue to sneak a glance at the chef, currently wrinkling his nose at work in front of him. He checked his watch before turning to his ever-tense kitchen helpers.

“Guests are arriving soon, so this will have to do. I can’t do miracles. We’re 15 minutes short on presentation time thanks to someone’s incompetence and we don’t have nearly enough greenery to cover all the imperfections.” The not-so-subtle side eye at you didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m not proud of tonight’s piece, team. We’ll have to compensate for it with an impeccable service.”

Hearing disappointment in their superior’s voice instantly glued eyes to the floor. You winced, knowing it was your fault.

“Well? Don’t just stand there, idiots! Move, move!” He ordered, making them all jump and scatter like scared mice.

With that, he turned around and zeroed in on you. Upper lip raised, the chef got closer until he was towering you. His imposing demeanor had you squaring up as much as you could without the food on you falling. Tanaka’s favourite activity was intimidating others. Enough dealing with bullies taught you that is best not to show them fear.

“I know I’m asking a monkey to do magic, but try not to ruin my night further or I’ll personally make sure that you never work again,” he spat before walking away.

Silent treatment was definitely better. That man’s tongue was sharp as his knives. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding and let your muscles relax. It was going to be a long night.

“Everything looks spectacular, Mr. Choi. Wouldn’t expect less from a man like you.”

An hour in and no incidents so far. Tanaka had relaxed a bit. Not around you, of course. Whenever he came to check, you could feel his eyes slicing you up like hamachi. However, the other cooks and the service left the kitchen far less horrified.

Two men chatted by the table you laid on. Head filled with nothing you kept your eyes on the intricate ceiling with a blank expression. Usually you didn’t pay much attention to the conversations around you —too much business talk. However they sometimes served as distraction for the ache of laying still for hours.

Tonight’s host, Mr. Choi, an older man with a neat haircut and small hands, turned his head to you. “I chose the model specifically for you. I thought you’d feel more at home with a bit of western flavor to your food, Mr. Harper.”

“Everything is perfect, I’m grateful for your hospitality.” He took a piece of sashimi, his gaze lingering on you. “Is this a Korean tradition?”

“Japanese. I find nyotaimori an exquisite showcase of artistry, although it is an unusual practice. Forbidden in some countries, even.” The older man got closer to the other, as they inspected you.

“I envy you, Mr. Choi. Your eye for beauty is as sharp as the one for business.”

“It is, indeed,” he chuckled. “My old friend Mr. Kim told me you and I would get along. His son has a gift for reading people and he speaks highly of your company. I think you’ve met him already?”

“Yes, I have. I’ll admit I was discouraged when Mr. Kim sent his son to talk business instead of doing it himself. Five minutes with the boy, and I realised my mistake. He’s a bit younger than me, but he has experience and confidence way above his age.”

“Just like his father, that old devil. Look, there he is. Perfect timing, as always,” he turned with a beaming smile and gestured for someone to join the conversation. “Come here, son! We were talking about you just now.”

With an odd feeling in your gut, you bit the inside of your cheek. Not him. There’s a Kim every two Koreans, please, not him. From the corner of your eye, you catched a glimpse of the man approaching before averting your gaze.

The universe hated you.

“Only good things, I hope,” Seokjin bowed and the other two chuckled. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

“Mr. Harper here was telling how happy he is to do business with you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come, son. I know you’re not a fan of these parties.”

“I couldn’t miss yours, Mr. Choi. Anyone in business knows: if you want to make the right connections, here’s the place.”

“Ah, always working. I’ll warn you, Mr. Harper, Seokjin here is a professional even after leaving the office. Since you two are close in age, I’m trusting you to make him loosen up a little,” he patted Seokjin’s broad back. “Come on, son. Get something to eat.”

There was a pause and the background noise quieted for a moment. Eyes fixed anywhere but him, you didn’t see his reaction once he realised you there. Would he wear the smirk he gave you when he saw you the first time in this exact position? Or would he arch his brow slightly like he did when something picked his interest but didn’t want it to show? Surprised at your own knowledge of Seokjin’s expressions, you didn’t realise him approaching until his voice rang much closer than before.

“With pleasure.”

His silhouette blocked the ceiling light, that shined like a halo around him. The eclipse-like effect would cover his reaction even if you dared to look. You felt your cheeks heat up and your toes curled nervously. He made no further comment, but you did notice his slow movements as he chose something with chopsticks. Despite your breath quickening, you didn’t take your eyes off the ceiling.

The conversation with his peers flowed casually, all business deals and market values, though you couldn’t focus on it anymore. Not with his efforts to draw your attention back to him. Standing near your table, Seokjin picked up something from your body every now and then. Whenever you felt his presence closer, something stirred deep inside you. A mixture of arousal and mortification. What if he told them about your night together? They’d probably lose their appetite, knowing their sushi platter made a mess on someone’s sheets. If you still had a job by the end of the night, you’d lose it. Though you doubted he’d even admit he’d fucked you, it would ruin his image in front of his partners. How many men like him admitted all the secretaries and maids and other nobodies they got frisky with? In his world, big names didn’t look good next to small ones. At the same time, the memory of his mouth on your skin and the dark ink of his lovebites on your neck the day after messed with your ability to think straight.

Eventually, he excused himself and greeted someone else, brushing your ankle when he walked past. You tensed immediately. Looking in his direction for the first time, you caught the faint outline of a smirk as sauntered away. The greater the distance he put between you, the easier it was to relax. Shortly after, you realised he wouldn’t allow it.

Time passed lazily, minutes turning into decades built up the stress of the night. First the incident with the chef, to whom you’d surely have to suck up to later in hopes he forgave your lack of punctuality. And then Seokjin and his cruel way of keeping you on edge. Without a phone screen or the bar counter as barrier, ignoring him proved to be tougher than you’d thought. All throughout the night you heard his voice, sometimes closer than others but never enough for you to figure out exactly where it came from. He wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about him, that he could approach and tease you whenever he pleased. At some point you grew tired of the tension.

Body perfectly still, you scanned the room until your eyes met. He kept talking to the expensive suit in front of him, but his gaze was undeniably locked on you. Mischief and playfulness poured out of his dark orbs and a little bit of something else. Maybe annoyance, maybe lust. It was usually hard to decipher his expressions, but even harder when he masked them for the other attendees. He seemed a different man, giving plastic smiles for his plastic friends —the tiny creases around his eyes nowhere to be seen. You missed them.

The little exchanges and glances grew bolder since that moment. For anyone else in the room, Seokjin behaved as the heir of one of the biggest companies in Korea should. For you, however, he’d lick his lips while devouring your body from afar or wink at you whenever he caught you staring back. To your surprise, no one seemed to take notice.

No matter how hard you tried, avoiding his gaze proved to be pointless. Like a magnet, your eyes were drawn to his before you could register it. It only spurred him to be more daring and it kept you on edge, afraid of him doing something that could cost you a paycheck.

At the end of the night, the clink of glasses and the frivolous chatter thinned and tangled with the slur of goodbyes and the buzz of waiters cleaning up. Only a small group was left. They smoked big cigars and discussed politics, faces red with alcohol, while you discreetly stretched your neck and counted the minutes. Just when you thought the night was almost over, your body tensed once more when you heard a familiar voice.

“I don’t think ‘mouthwatering’ does you justice, sweet cheeks.”

His words ringed too loud for your liking and your eyes bounced around the room. The smokers were too immersed in their secret competition for the biggest, rarest cigar and the workers seemed too eager to go home to pay attention. Seokjin sensed your apprehension and placed a hand next to your head, resting his weight on it so he would look straight down at you. You took a sharp breath when his thumb caressed your temple and you jerked away on instinct, the contact scolding your skin. His eyes briefly shot up to check if anyone had noticed the sudden movement, but landed immediately back on you.

“I like your dress, by the way,” he added. “It matches your imaginary date.”

An ugly scowl settled on your face, but he chose to ignore it. Tilting his head, he trailed down your form as you warned him with a huff. When his gaze met yours again, it narrowed dangerously. Even if his face was serene, his eyes weren’t. All the colors around you stirred in his black pools, a mysterious kaleidoscope you had never seen on them before. Your tongue itched from the unspoken expletives as you glared up at him. Without a sound, you gracefully mouthed a “fuck off.”

“Don’t look at me like that, the sushi is going to turn sour,” he grinned. “Can’t resist getting naked for me, hm? Next time I’d appreciate a warning if you are gonna show up like this. Do you know how difficult it is to do business with you teasing me?”

Your brows shot up at his words. Only if you could tell him to get his egocentric ass out of his mouth.

“It’s cruel to take advantage of my weaknesses, sweet cheeks,” he tutted. “Not fair play.”

“I am working,” you reminded quietly through a clenched jaw, voice low and gritty with irritation.

“It hasn’t stopped you from ogling me like you want me to fuck you senseless in front of everyone.”

Once again, his carefree tone felt dangerous. Although the remaining guests' cackles overpowered his words, for you they still boomed too loud. So much, that your traitorous body rumbled at his suggestion despite the fear of being discovered.

He caught the subtle way your teeth trapped your bottom lip before it tightened in a line. Not even your frown could hide your pupils expanding and he smiled wolfishly. You’d tried so hard to keep him at a distance, to act cold around him. The weeks after he woke to the lingering bittersweetness of your perfume he’d been wondering why. Right there and then, he got his answer.

“You’re gonna get me fired. Leave.”

“Then tell me why are you avoiding me,” he asked, although he didn't need to.

“Get a pen, there’s a whole list of reasons,” your quiet retort made him chuckle darkly.

“Will you read them to me after work? If you’re good, you’ll get a spank for each one,” he winked. If anyone looked in your direction, you would be in trouble. He was too close and the flowers on you laid off their designated spots.

“Just lea— ”

The rasp of a throat clearing tore the air and your body became stone. Seokjin straightened his back calmly, not even bothered by the interruption, but your head whipped to the noise at lightning speed. You felt the petals on you fall on the table, followed by a piece of sushi.

“I’m awfully sorry, Mr. Kim. But the nyotaimori exhibition is over. If you wish to eat something else, our buffet is still open.”

Tanaka snapped his fingers and two waiters picked your table and brought you into the kitchen. You didn’t miss the throbbing vein on his forehead when he bowed for the millionaire.

The pleasant bell of the elevator mimicked the end of a boxing match after a knock out. Utterly defeated, your feet dragged on the beautiful carpet that led you out of the building.

Your head was pounding with the echoes of the chef’s harsh scolding. A few of your coworkers chatted by the entrance, but quieted down when they spotted you. No need to be a genius to know the nasty things they whispered as you walked past them. They’ve witnessed the scene just moments ago. Tanaka yelled and yelled while you just stood there, drenched in all his anger. Pathetic excuse of a model. That’s what he called you. From his point of view, you broke your obligations and tried to get a millionaire’s attention. Someone who, as he kindly reminded, would never mix with the likes of you for more than a fun night. His hurtful comments didn’t end there, but that part stuck with you the most.

Cold hit your face as you exited the building, freezing any lingering thought and you breathed out to fill your lungs with that same peace. Once outside, where the usually frency of Seoul slept, you could store the night in the drawer of moments that you’d rather forget.

“Hello, sweet cheeks.”

Any prospect of serenity on the quiet night air crashed with just three words. Him, always him. Whenever you allowed yourself to relax, he always appeared. Like a fly on a hot summer evening, sticking to your skin and buzzing until it drew you crazy. You walked past the spot where he leaned against the wall with a huff.

“How about I take you on an actual date tonight? I sneaked a bottle of wine.”

Nothing. Maybe it was childish to ignore him, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with him, not tonight, so you kept walking.

“Should I take that as a yes?”

The more he talked, the faster your irritation started to boil. Without sparing him a glance, you kept your pace. Seokjin jogged a bit to keep up and frowned himself as he noticed your scowl deepening.

“Baby, it’s hard to maintain a conversation if you don’t help me out a bit.”

The burning tick of your brow marked the countdown before the explosion, you knew that. It bothered you how his long legs could easily match your quick pace. You fished the car keys out of your pocket, taking a turn to cross the street.

“You are angry with me,” he stated.

A scoff escaped your throat, as you smiled dryly.

“To be angry I’d have to give two shits about you, which I don’t.”

“Ouch,” he grimaced at your clipped tone and let you put some distance between the two, considering your words. Aware that he walked on thin ice, he caught up once again with a smirk. At least he got you talking.

“You sure about that? You seem pretty angry to me.”

Exasperated, you stopped abruptly, fire burning in your eyes. It took him by surprise how serious your expression became. Maybe he’d overstepped in his attempts to lift up your mood, maybe he’d really fucked up.

“What the hell are you doing here, Seokjin?”

“Just wanted to check if everything is fine with your boss,” he was cautious, approaching you as if he wanted to pet a lion.

“No, it’s not fucking fine,” you snapped with an accusatory finger to his chest. “I almost got fired.”

“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, I shouldn’t have messed around while you were working. I didn’t consider the consequences.”

“Of course you didn’t. Losing your job is not something that ever scares you, hm? The little prince has his life sorted out already. Must be nice.”

Voice loaded with sourness, you held his gaze. Apart from his lips tightening in a thin line, Seokjin kept his usual unreadable self. He didn’t even have the decency to look intimidated by your anger. Blood pulsed in your temples like migraine. God, he was so infuriating.

“By the way, don’t you ever call anyone to clean up my shit again. I don’t need it. I can deal with my own problems.”

When Tanaka had been done yelling and calling you names, he contacted the higher ups. Neither of you expected the woman on the other side of the line brushing the chef’s complaints off so easily —the guest had cleared up the situation already. She hung up with a grin in her voice after praising your ability to “befriend” such a powerful man, and you were left dumbfounded. Since that job covered most of your bills, it was a relief to keep it. That aside, you were fuming. One phone call, that’s all it took for him to make the problem disappear. Was life really so easy for him? Was he so dense to think his last name would solve anything? He surely didn’t give a shit about putting you in that situation in the first place, or your coworkers thinking of you as a slut. Above everything else, it pissed you off that he thought you needed to be saved, like it was his charity act of the month.

“My behaviour tonight was unacceptable and you shouldn’t be the one to pay for it. Now I see I overstepped, so I apologise for that too,” he said after a pause. His eyes softened and you noticed his shoulders drooping slightly. “It’s just— You do things to me, sweet cheeks, you don’t even realise. I can’t think straight around you. Not that that’s an excuse, but it’s the truth. I really am sorry, I didn’t want to cause you trouble.”

“Oh, thanks! That fixes everything. Glad that you got that out of your chest, wouldn’t want to make you feel guilty about it,” you sneered.

Seokjin followed like a watchdog as you resumed your walk, taking big steps in a futile attempt to leave the man behind. Not only him, but the inconvenient flutter in your stomach too. Mulling over his words, you chewed the inside of your cheek. You do things to me, sweet cheeks. So casual about it, he could’ve been chatting about the weather with a neighbour.

“Let me take you home, at least, to make sure you are safe,” he offered, taking your wrist to stop you.

“No,” you jerked away, his touch blistering your skin. “Don’t take me home, don’t call me, don’t text me.”

“I can’t help it. I like you, sweet cheeks. A lot. One night is not enough, I want more than that.”

You felt it, the skip in your heartbeat. Deep within you, it faltered. Scared, wounded, hopeful. Occasional sex was your usual go-to for a good reason. That’s why you only got involved with the “not-the-boyfriend-type” kind of men, to avoid those kinds of messy, unnecessary feelings. You didn’t need anyone to take away your individuality or change your life —you liked freedom. However, your issues with love ran deeper than that.

Admittedly, you were scared of letting anyone in. You’d been hurt and mocked many times, leashed and scolded enough to be reduced to a shell devoid of any worth. But you learned, hit after hit, and grew protective thorns everytime it happened. Yet, the sly bastard had managed to sneak behind your defenses. Maybe it wasn’t too late to get a hold of yourself.

“Well, it is for me. I’m sorry, but I don’t do the whole boyfriend thing anymore.”

“Tell me you don't like me back.” “Have I not been clear enough? I think I’ve showed you many times that I’m not interested.”

“You kissed me,” he countered, stopping you in your tracks. “The morning you left.”

You faced him after a deep breath, exhausted from his insistence. “That’s playing dirty. You were supposed to be sleeping.”

“Why did you? If you wanted a one time thing, you would’ve just left. But you kissed me goodbye,” he pressed. “Not to be nice or polite or because you thought you had to —I wouldn’t have noticed anyway. And yet, you decided to kiss me. Why?”

“Goddamn, rich boy. It was just a kiss, don’t read too much into it.”

“Fine,” he said, his tone stern with a hint of a snarl. “If you won’t, I’ll say it for you. You felt something that night and you feel it still, I can tell.”

“Let me get one thing straight: just because we fucked doesn’t mean you know me. Stop trying to decide what I do or do not feel. You can’t just magically appear in people's lives and expect to be the center of their existence. It’s so goddamn irritating, you are everywhere. If I’m at Dionysus, I get tense whenever that fucking door opens in case it’s you. Everytime I look at my phone there’s a stupid text, or worse, there’s nothing it messes my head up. Even my best friend won’t shut up about you! It’s like a horror movie, I swear. Just leave me alone, I don’t want whatever this shit is. It’s driving me insane.”

“This,” you gestured between the two after a heavy sigh, “was a one time thing, fun, nice sex. End of story.”

“Just nice?” Devilish smile already blooming, he stalked closer. “After all the screaming I was expecting good, at least. I’ll work harder next time, I’m aiming for A+.”

The moment he was close enough for you to have to crane your neck up, your burning gaze mixed with his. His cologne hit your senses and you remembered how it stuck to your tongue when you kissed his body, sweat and lust making the scent borderline intoxicating. It fuelled your resolve to turn him down before his voice trapped you under his spell —saccharine and enticing, like a siren.

“There’s no next time, so go try to get someone else fired,” you tried to cover the lack of steadiness in your words with a dismissive gesture.

“Oh, there will be, don’t you worry,” he chuckled before holding your glare with firm determination. “That pretty mouth might say one thing, but your body tells me otherwise. I know you can’t resist me, just like I can’t resist you. At some point you’re going to admit it and let me kiss you and fuck you how you want me to.”

He didn’t lean forward to level your eyes, didn’t let his hand wander on your body —he didn’t need to. Standing there, centimetres away from you, Seokjin knew he had a bigger effect on you than you anticipated. However, your pride took over. The right to decide your feelings wasn’t his and you were determined to show him.

“I wouldn’t bet on it if I were you.”

“Why not? I love winning.”

His cheshire grin set something ablaze in your gut. Unsure if it was irritation or something else, you took a step back. He looked stunning, his sharp suit accentuating those wide shoulders and dark locks neatly brushed back. But what really took you breath away was the glint in his eyes. Dangerous and playful at the same time, in complete dissonance with his impassive pose.

“Good night, Mr. Kim.”

This time, only his eyes followed as the streets of Seoul swallowed the sweet enigma that was you.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: @aretha170

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justanotherlifeff · 4 years

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Hi I saw you were doing bnha x readers, I was wondering if you could do a bakugo x reader where they go one their first date or one where bakusquad tried to set them up cause they both like eachother please fluff and IDC of it's smut or not

Phase 2

"Bakubro, you're already 25. Don't you think you should go for a serious relationship by now?" Kirishima asked the explosive hero infront of him, who only glared at the hardening hero. "You don't get to tell me what to do shitty hair! My goal is to be the number 1 hero. Not play house." Bakugou barked at Kirishima, making Kirishima sigh. The two of them were good friends since their UA days and while Bakugou was more matured than he was back then, that explosive attitude surely didn't change at all. "What about after being the number 1 hero? Do you even have any plans for then? Bro, right now, fighting and having random hookups may sound nice but in the long term, when you’ll have to retire at some point, you're gonna regret wasting away your life just for one goal." Kirishima tried to reason. "Shut your trap, shitty hair. I don't do love or any sappy bullshit like that." Bakugou grumbled, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. "Unless it's (Y/N)... Too bad that she friendzoned me to oblivion..." Bakugou thought internally. At the moment, Bakugou, Kirishima and Kaminari were in a bar after a long day of hero work to catch up. Bakugou still hung out with the infamous Bakusquad every once in a while, though he usually hung out mostly with Kirishima or you. "Bakubro? Are you scared of the responsibility that comes with relationships? Didn't take you to be the one to be scared of something like that... Even I had the courage to get Kyoka with me." Kaminari teased Bakugou on que. "HAH? I'M NOT SCARED OF ANYTHING DUNCE FACE! FUCKING THROW A RELATIONSHIP AT ME AND SEE HOW I HANDLE THAT SHIT!" Bakugou barked at Kaminari. To that, Kirishima and Kaminari fistbumped behind their backs as their plan was going perfectly.

In a completely different bar, you were sitting with Mina and Sero, sipping the (Drink/N) in your hand. "So, (Y/N)! When are you gonna bag a hot guy into your clutches? My married ass can't see you single for any longer and I am itching to play cupid at this point." Mina elbowed you with a smile. "Sero's single too. Why don't you bother him?" you scoffed in answer, gulping your drink. "Hot guy my ass... The hot guy I like is an egoistical bastard..." you thought internally. "Actually, I'm not single? I kinda started dating a colleague last month..." Sero countered your statement bashfully. "Seeee? You're the only one between us who's single. THAT NEEDS TO CHANGE!" Mina slammed on the table to make a point. "Zeez... Calm your tits Mina... I'm single cause not everyone is manly enough to actually marry the girl he dates. You're one lucky bastard Mina, bagging Kiri like that... The guys I have a thing for usually ends up being fuckboys who only want a one time thing and I'm not into that shit. So it's best to stay single and not get hurt." you sighed. "Alright, (Y/N), if we can get you a guy who isn’t a fuckboy, would you finally go on a date?" Mina asked, looking all mischievous. "Why do I feel like you're plotting something?" you sighed, looking at Mina, tired of her antics.

You became a part of the infamous Bakusquad back in your first year at UA. You were in class 1A and Mina pretty much adopted your antisocial ass into the group. It wasn’t that you were introverted because you talked enough. It was just the fact that you were way too straight forward, to the extent that you sounded kinda rude. However, you tried to be a nice person in general. While it may come as a surprise, the only other person you were close to most in the group except Mina was Bakugou. That was probably because Bakugou respected your brutal honesty and the fact that you could shove reality on people's face without a second thought. Not to mention that Bakugou was quite fascinated by your quirk too. You were interested in Bakugou for the exact same reasons though you found him to be unnecessarily rude sometimes. With time, the two of you started having a thing for eachother, which was pretty much common knowledge within the class when you all reached your third year at UA. However, that's when everything went wrong. Bakugou had finally manned up enough to ask you out at the end of your third year and you made the mistake of hugging and calling him "the best FRIEND you can ever have" after he took you on a date. In your defence, he never mentioned that it was a date and you figured that the two of you were hanging out as friends. Hell, you didn't even know that he had a thing for you as both Bakugou and you were completely oblivious when it came to feelings. Unfortunately, Bakugou felt as if you completely and utterly friendzoned him at that moment, and stopped trying to win your affections and instead, went for random hookups while you were deeply saddened by your crush's sudden change and you pretty much stopped having a love life.

Did that stop the two of you from all the passive agressive flirting you threw at eachother? No, it did not. Infact, to both of your surprise, you two ended up hanging out quite a lot. Ofcourse, they always ended with a weird giddy feeling in both of your stomachs and blazing anger in your minds as the two of you pissed eachother off quite a lot. To be fair, Bakusquad was tired of you two pining on eachother for 9 whole years. They had no idea about Bakugou trying to ask you out at some point as Bakugou would never reveal a failed attempt at sonething. To Bakusquad, enough was enough. After all, who the fuck pines on eachother for 9 fucking years and not make a move? Ever since Kirishima and Mina got married to eachother, they had enough of your and Bakugou's shit. Like every other happily married couple, they decided with the squad that this time, they would finally set the two of you up together. Hence, it all led to them planning the entire thing out and you were now sitting at a reserved table at a fancy restaurant after taking a day off from hero work so that you could meet your mystery date. Did you know why you even agreed to this? Blame Mina for bribing you with the entire series of a very rare first edition of a manga signed by the author himself that you have been saving up for. You honestly expected it to be a rather boring date as you had no interest in being with a random dude and you were only here for the manga and the food. However, you did not expect that random dude to be Bakugou.

Did Bakugou expect to see you instead of some random woman sitting there on the table that Kirishima forced him to reserve for the so called date? No, he totally didn't. You looked as surprised as he did when he entered the restaurant and found you sitting there. This was one of the extremely expensive restaurants in Tokyo and Bakugou always chose the best even if it was some stupid worthless date because it was either classy with Bakugou or nothing. Upon realising the fact that none of you expected something like this, Bakugou felt the bad memories of him trying to date you years back plague him, drowning his self confidence to some extent which in return pissed him off. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Bakugou asked you with a scowl as he approached you. "Guess our idiot friends were trying to get us together." You sighed, motioning him to sit on the chair infront of you. "Fucking shitty hair..." Bakugou grumbled, not looking at you. "Mina lost her damn mind... Here I was looking for a loyal dude and she sent the Ground Zero who's specifically known to be a womanizer." you teased Bakugou, trying to ease up the gloomy mood. "Ya know, you could leave if this isn't your thing." Bakugou looked at you and stated with a scowl. "Meh, Mina bribed me enough to stay. Plus we didn't hang out in a while so it's a win win for me. I honestly thought I'll have to make a conversation with some random weirdo." you answered carefreely. "Did she bribe you with that rare first edition manga that you were obsessing over?" Bakugou asked, raising an eyebrow. "Guilty as charged" you answered, winking at him. Only if you knew that your action made him literally have butterflies in his stomach (something he would never admit).

Kirishima, Mina and Kaminari were hiding outside the restaurants, looking over at you and Bakugou by the window of the cafe. "Bakugou looks too constipated... Ya think we need to get to phase 2?" Kaminari asked. "Uh... I still don't think that's a good idea..." Kirishima tried to reason with the two weirdos beside him but Mina was already calling the cafe to prepare for the said 'phase 2' of the plan.

Bakugou was already uncomfortable about the entire thing from the begining but now that a random dude came at them with a violin and started playing some sappy romantic music, Bakugou was this close to losing his temper. It didn't take long for you to notice Bakugou's dilemma. "You wanna get out of here? Our friends clearly crossed the limit..." you asked him. Without any hesitation, he said, "Fuck... Fine, let's go." before he stood up and left the restaurant with you following him, leaving the violin man and the waiters confused as to why you left without your order even after you already paid for it. "Wow, that was intense." you laughed as Bakugou sulked about how shitty their friends are. "Well, how did they convince you to get here? Didn’t you tell enough interviewers that you 'don't do love'?" you asked Bakugou, teasing him though you were kinda curious. "Shitty hair asked me about what I'd do after I retire and said that I'll regret not giving love a chance so I decided to give it a shot." Bakugou grumbled without looking at you. Ofcourse he wasn’t gonna tell you that they got him into their trap simply by challenging him cause you'd tease him to death over it. "Oooo someone's growing up. Good for you." you answered him with a smile before continuing, "I guess I listened to Mina about this shit cause, well, I used to like this guy but it wasn’t mutual and I guess I wanted to forget about him for a while. I mean, I pretty much never had a love life so...". "Dude must be dumb. You're cool." Bakugou answered, not looking at you as the two of you entered a park that was nearby. "Nah, he's amazing. It's just, love isn't really his thing and I can't exactly change his views." you muttered sadly. "Well, he's still a dumbass." Bakugou huffed in answer. "Okay? I guess he really is a dumbass. I mean, I'm quite sure he came into this date cause Kaminari or Kirishima challenged him to and he actually thought I wouldn’t figure it out." you scoffed, looking away from Bakugou.

Bakugou's face was priceless. At first, he was pissed that you called him a dumbass but then it hit him. "You... You like me?" he choked out, looking shocked. "Well, wasn’t it obvious by now? Our friends set us up together and there was a weird dude playing violin. It seemed that Mina understood that I have a thing for you and did all that. Mina or Kirishima wouldn’t want me to be hurt as they are my friends and if you didn't like me, he wouldn’t set me up with you given that you have serious fuckboy tendencies. Well, it doesn’t really matter if I like you anyway cause you're not into long term shit." you answered his question with a sigh. "Ya know (Y/N), I only got into this fuckboy phase cause you rejected me once." Bakugou muttered. "Huh? When did I reject you? What are you talking about?" you asked, visibly confused. "Don't you remember that day at the end of third year? I took you out on a date to see that sappy ass movie together and you hugged me and friendzoned me?" Bakugou accused you. "That was a date?" you asked him with an incredulous expression. "Hah? You didn't realise that was a damned date?" Bakugou barked at you. "OFCOURSE I DIDN'T! YOU NEVER MENTIONED THAT IT WAS A DA..." Bakugou didn't let you complete that sentence as his lips were already on yours. After a kiss that took your breath away, he pulled away, leaving you completely flustered. "I'm not gonna date you if you're gonna fuck around." you stated, still out of breathe from the kiss. "Ofcourse I won't you dumbass! We are fucking official from now! Tf do you think I am?" Bakugou snapped at you? "Idk, you called yourself a dumbass a while back?" you teased him. "DIE!!!!" Bakugou barked at you to that.

"Well, I guess that worked?" Kirishima muttered as they were hiding in the park, watching Bakugou chase you with small explosions in his hands as you kept cackling with laughter, running from him. "Phase 2 never fails." Mina and Kaminari stated in unison with smug expressions as Kirishima looked back at them in disbelief.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugo fluff #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugo × reader #bakugou ? reader #bakugo ? reader #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou

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saiki-in-jsl · 4 years

Text

No Powers Saiki AU (3k)

Where he also has anxiety and selective mutism. (But also, nobody has powers. And that volcano issue never happens because I SAID SO.)

Uhm uhhhh, in no way am I a doctor, so this may not be very accurate. Sorry!!

TW: Panic attack, I don’t think this one needs a skip so I’ll just leave it as that (but if you need one, tell me :eyes:)

Also on my ao3!

Also well shit, I do like myself some good Kusuo and Akechi friendship :,)

Also also, ugggghhhhhh, the italics stuff don’t go through when I copy and paste from my docs rip. This is why I prefer ao3 more (and because their tagging system is HEAVENLY) so if you wanna read with all them proper italics I suggest switching to my ao3

ALSO ALSO ALSO, RIGHT WHEN I FINISHED THIS, I DISCOVERED ASL AND JSL ARE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SO D A R N H E C K I’M SORRY. I did a big oopsie,,,let’s,,,pretend that asl,,,is,,default,,?

Saiki Kusuo was not your typical boy.

Since he was young, it had been painfully obvious that he was a gifted child, surpassing his brother by intelligence and strength. This had drawn many curious scientists to him, and after several tests that went on for hours and hours, he finally broke. He stopped talking and he stopped wanting to be around people.

His mother, equally as tired of the scientists as her son was, decided to hide his identity away from the public, constantly moving from location to location to avoid the people who knew of her son’s abilities.

This barely helped with Kusuo’s social development as a child, so the more he moved, the more he decided that he would much rather live in an isolated world than a world filled with people with prying eyes and loud mouths.

He did make a friend once though, but it barely lasted due to unforeseen circumstances that involved a few beat up bullies, and it had surprisingly hurt when he had to move away again. Akechi was his first real friend, and realizing that he won’t be seeing him again felt weird.

As much as he loved being alone, a friend would’ve been nice.

So the night before they moved away, he had pushed open his parents’ door, gripping his pajama top tightly, and whispered really really softly to his mother, “Mama. Will I ever make a friend?”

It was the first time he had spoken in a very long time, in fact, his mother couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to her without pointing and hand gestures. So predictably, she cried and hugged him tight, mumbling how sorry she was for ruining his chance at making a friend, too caught up with trying to avoid those nosey scientists.

Middle school went by like a blur, aside from the occasional school switch that still happened, yet not as often as elementary. He didn’t remember a single thing that happened during those school days, maybe a few anxiety attacks in the bathroom and a sad attempt at trying to socialize, but that was it. Maybe it really was easier to be alone, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about losing his breathing from the sheer amount of stress he got from the assembly hall.

Highschool came and Kusuo had a new plan: Accept that having friends are not necessary and speaking with your mouth is dumb.

He quickly learnt how to use ASL, much preferring that language over vocally speaking, and made sure his grades were as average as possible. He had excelled through middle school and elementary school like it was nothing, but it had led him to be placed on stage many times because of this. So no more of that, because that was a recipe for disaster to him.

Kusuo made sure everything was in perfect place before heading to school. He made sure the school knew about his condition, and he also made sure to let them know he didn’t want to be publicly known as the school’s “mute kid”, so he’d definitely blend in without an issue.

Kusuo couldn’t believe what was happening. He hadn’t even fully registered his first year of highschool properly and his second year was already here.

To start off, he had friends, something he did not expect to have. He could predict many things, the weather, what people were thinking, and if he tried hard enough, he could even predict who would walk by his classroom in the next second. But he did not see this one coming.

He didn’t even know how. Nendou was a dunce who went from copying his homework to hanging around and inviting him out for ramen and Kaidou was a chuunibyou who thought Kusuo’s hand gestures was some sort of secret language and ended up perceiving Kusuo as some ally to Jet Black Wings.

Yumehara, for no reason other than the fact that Kusuo looked cute, decided she was meant to be with him. A lot of effort was taken to avoid her, but just as she lost interest in him, the class- no, the world’s idol decided she’d have a crush on him too. Then there was the class representative, Hairo, who constantly screamed and moved and how does he not get tired?

Then there was Kuboyasu, Toritsuka, Aiura, and so many people it made his head spin.

But they all had one thing in common when they communicated with him, and that was the fact that they all thought he was deaf. Granted, people who use ASL were commonly deaf, so he wasn’t blaming them for assuming so, and it did help him a little since this made them talk less around him and gave him a good excuse for ignoring them half the time.

Two years he spent in this highschool, and not once had he fired rapid ASL before. He never got the chance to, and he didn’t have much care for doing so. Mostly because most of the people around him didn’t even understand sign language.

But sometimes, listening to Toritsuka talk on and on about some cute girl could really put you on edge. Especially when he kept egging Kusuo on about the type of girls he liked.

The thing was, Kusuo didn’t like romance. He liked observing it and the idea of it, but he would never want to be a part of it. Frankly enough, he didn’t find any joy in it, he much preferred a life of solitude.

“C’mon, I know you can understand me, Saiki,” Toritsuka poked, grinning widely. “What kind of girls are you into? Or perhaps are into boys? Seriously, tell me, maybe we can go on a double date sometime. What about Teruhashi--“

Kusuo scowled, taking a step back and suddenly flying into fast ASL that roughly translated to several insults and long explanations as to why Kusuo wasn’t going to tell him. Toritsuka only blinked in surprise, because he swore he just saw the middle finger between those fast hand gestures, and he took a step back, raising his hands in defeat.

“Relax! Alright!” Toritsuka said, dropping the subject for good. “Next time fling me a note or something, that is seriously intimidating!”

Kusuo winced, feeling the third piece of paper Kaidou had just flung at him hit his head. This had been going on for the whole period, and Kusuo wondered why the teacher hadn’t noticed it yet. Most of the notes Kaidou sent weren’t serious anyways, and clearly not worth writing back to him.

He barely understood the references the boy was making anyways.

“How about we hang out after school? Do you like cake?” The last note read.

Kusuo smiled softly. “Yes, I do like cake.” He wrote, and with ease, he strategically threw it back so it would land perfectly on Kaidou’s table.

Being around Teruhashi was not ideal at all, because wherever she went, many people would follow. Kusuo hated crowds more than anything, it made his throat close up and his face a little sweaty, though his facial expression would never express his discomfort.

It would always remain blank and devoid of emotions.

Which always peaked Teruhashi’s interest. She found it a challenge to make the “deaf” kid who barely spoke gasp at her beauty, it would be a mighty achievement, yet no matter how hard she tried, it just never worked, which only pushed her to try harder. It resulted in her falling in love with him, unfortunately.

“Saiki does have a cute face though,” Teruhashi mumbled under her breath right as she walked along with Kusuo. She assumed he couldn’t hear her, so she regularly said things like those quietly to herself whenever he wasn’t looking her way. He appreciated the compliment at times, but sometimes, they do get a little creepy.

Nendou probably didn’t understand the idea of deaf people, or perhaps he thought his idea was pretty smart. Either ways, Kusuo sometimes couldn’t understand why he had to shout at him to communicate.

Did Nendou think deaf people just had very very poor hearing? Probably. But it often got annoying when they were in public places, and Kusuo couldn’t even tell him to quiet down because he couldn’t tell when exactly he was actually shouting.

Both his shouting and talking volume were around the same range.

But, it was rather nice of him to go out of his way to learn a bit of sign language just so he wouldn’t have to shout at Kusuo anymore. It was actually pretty nice having an ASL buddy.

Note to self, do not use ASL around Kuboyasu too much. He will and can mistake them as gang signs and get either sappy or angry. Kusuo said in his head as he watched Kuboyasu stare off into the distance with his fists clenched, reminiscing about his gang days.

Several times Kusuo had mistaken Hairo’s sad attempt at ASL as actual words and once spent half an hour straight wondering why the boy had signed refrigerator geese to him during that dodgeball game.

Saiko had once walked up to him and declared that whatever “nonsense” Kusuo was going to sign, he’d know right away what they would mean. At first, Kusuo found it hard to believe that the rich boy had taken time to learn ASL within his one day of being in this school, but as it turned out, all Saiko did was hire a translator to follow him around to translate Kusuo’s words.

That was possibly the most amount of effort he’d ever seen from Saiko, and it was good enough.

Kusuo wondered if learning ASL had magically made him more attractive. Aiura would not leave him alone, with her blonde hair, tanned skin, overly accessorized things, and bubbly personality. She wasn’t like Teruhashi, who attracted more men than Kusuo could count on his fingers, so she wasn’t as annoying to be around with.

But then again, she was more forward than Teruhashi too, so it didn’t make her more appealing either.

Seeing Akechi again resurfaced too many feelings. He hadn’t really realized how much he missed his first friend, but then again, the same boy was probably very aware of Kusuo’s high intelligence and may accidentally reveal his secret with that blabbering mouth of his.

Though, Kusuo had to admit, Akechi hadn’t changed one bit since the last time he saw him. Besides the haircut of course, and some other details, like how good he was at deducting now.

Being around Akechi was always strangely comforting back then, there was just something about listening to him talk that made Kusuo feel comfortable. You could say his talking was like white noise to Kusuo.

“Why does everyone assume you’re deaf? You’re not deaf, you just don’t like talking a lot, right? Why don’t you tell them that? Is it because you find it easier to pretend to be deaf? I can understand that, you were always really quiet, which was nice because you were a great listener too. I never found out why you up and left our elementary school without saying goodbye, but you were crazy sma--” Okay, that was when Kusuo made him stop talking, and Akechi took this as a hint to keep it a secret. There was a pause before Kusuo finally signed something to him.

Sorry.

“Nothing to apologize! I don’t think it was your fault anyways, but your plan worked like a charm honestly,” Akechi smiled. “I hope you missed me, because I know I missed you. We have a lot of catching up to do, I’ll start! So basically…”

Kusuo did. He really did miss him.

A play. Their class was doing a play.

After all that effort of trying to stay off the stage, he still couldn’t avoid it.

He’d feel bad if he didn’t show up to contribute, so he definitely couldn’t just ditch them. The most he could do was play a background role, but even then he’d still be painfully aware that he would be in front of the whole school, and he just couldn’t handle that.

But seeing everyone giving their all to make this play work, Kusuo couldn’t help but join along, regardless of his own condition.

Practice for the play went smoothly, and he found himself being able to cope with it. All he did was sway around like seaweed, since that was his role, and then walk off when his scene ends. Easy, nothing too complicated, he would be fine.

Until Saiko got his sensitive feelings hurt and decided to pull their budget on literally everything, including the costumes. Now, Kusuo couldn’t care less about that issue if it weren’t for the fact that; if the other cast didn’t have their costumes, they wouldn’t stand out as much, and there’d be a higher chance of the audience staring at him.

Yet there wasn’t much time to do last minute preparations for props and clothing, so everyone was encouraged to try their best in making their own costumes before the deadline. Kusuo predicted that no one would actually follow through, and for once, he wished he was wrong.

Apparently he didn’t wish hard enough, because that was exactly what had happened during the play. Everyone mostly came in their gym clothes, some with small props to make it look like they’ve tried, and some who just didn’t do anything at all.

When Kusuo’s scene finally came up, he and the rest of the people who played as seaweed scrambled onto stage, making waving motions with their arms to simulate seaweed underwater. Things went well for the most part, Kusuo did as practiced and waved around just like his other seaweed playing classmates, but the longer he stayed, the more aware he became.

Eyes, everywhere, in front of him, staring too hard, too long. Their mouths are moving, but he can’t hear what they’re saying, it was like they were on the other end of a glass wall. Were they talking about him among themselves?

Had it always been this warm on stage? Was it normal for his hands to shake? Was he breathing? He didn’t remember exhaling, nor inhaling. His throat went dry, his whole body rigid from...fear?

Someone was pushing him, someone else was pulling him, but he can’t properly grasp what was happening.

The world went a bit blurry before he completely went dark.

Kusuo woke up in the nurse’s office, body aching and throat dry. He wondered how long it took for him to wake up, but depending on the sun outside, it may have been an hour or so. He sat up slowly, groaning slightly from the pain, before suddenly being attacked by a hug from a familiar person.

“Pal! You’re okay,” Nendou cheered, finally pulling away from the hug to double check on his friend. He lifted his hands, proceeding to sign to him, You just suddenly fell over after they pulled you off stage.

My bad, Kusuo signed back tiredly. Sorry.

“What’d he say?” Kaidou nudged Nendou. Did he really have to ask? It was quite obvious.

“He says he’s fine.” Nendou answered, completely leaving out Kusuo’s apology, which he found strangely comforting yet offensive.

“He literally had a panic attack on stage, what do you mean he’s fine?” Kaidou argued, then he looked over at Kusuo with a deeper frown. “Why didn’t you tell us you were having an attack?”

“He wasn't being attacked,” Nendou said blankly.

“A panic attack, it’s different,” Kaidou huffed. “Saiki, not to be intrusive, but do you have anxiety?”

Did...he? He honestly never thought about it properly. Sure, he did have anxiety attacks every now and then when he was a kid, but this was the first one he had after a long time, so he never really considered he might’ve had anxiety.

Actually, it was starting to all make sense to him now that he thought about it.

“I’m going to take that as a yes but you didn’t know,” Kaidou said slowly, concern laced in his tone. It made sense that Kaidou would know, it did seem like he used to have the same issue.

“Oh for sure, can’t you tell from the way his eyes had widened just now by half a centimetre?” Akechi piped up from behind.

Good freaking grief.

He knew his mother didn’t trust doctors, but Kusuo really needed to see one after literally fainting in school. Not only that, it wasn’t his first time having an attack either, this was just the first time it had gotten this bad.

Sitting in a psychiatrist's waiting room felt odd, because it seemed a lot more homey than a regular doctor’s waiting room, with paintings hung on the walls and carpeted floor. He wasn’t particularly nervous, but he knew his mother was, because the hand she was using to hold onto him was shaking.

It’ll be okay, he reassured, squeezing his mother’s hand tight.

And it was okay. The lady was really nice to him, gentle and understanding, she barely pried and most of the questions she asked were pretty normal. She was a little surprised to learn that Kusuo could speak, but not in a way that was obvious, only Kusuo could tell that she was.

Communication with her was sorta slow. He had to type onto his notes app on his phone for her to read to answer her questions instead of hand signing, which he didn’t really mind all that much.

His mother, who had been waiting outside for them to be done, immediately got up when Kusuo was finished and asked several questions, one being: Did he need to take medication now?

Fortunately enough, it seemed like his case wasn’t too severe yet, mostly because he could still handle being around people without an issue, so he didn’t need to take any meds for now. Although his selective mutism was pretty serious, it wasn’t too bad either in his case, due to the fact that Kusuo spoke through sign language rather than verbally, so he wasn’t completely mute per se.

He came back next week, and the next, and many more weeks after that. He really liked this therapy thing.

“So your friends think you’re deaf, so you’re using that as an excuse to ignore them sometimes?”

Oh, when she put it like that, it just made him sound like an asshole. But yeah, he pretty much was doing that.

“Is there a particular reason why?”

Kusuo drummed his fingers on his lap. There were many reasons why, but those reasons had long lost their meaning. At first, it was because he didn’t want any friends, but now that he did have friends, there wasn’t any reason for him to keep following them through. No matter how many times he told himself he didn’t like them, they were still his friends.

“And why do you not want any friends?”

“Making friends was hard, keeping friends was hard, and losing them was even harder.” Kusuo typed out. “I guess I stopped trying. But then they started coming to me, and it was weird because I had already accepted it.”

“So you got scared?”

She could say that.

She uncrossed her legs, only to cross them back moments later, and adjusted her glasses, leaning forward, “It’s okay to feel scared about losing your friends, but if you’re going to push everyone who wants to be with you away, then how are you going to know if they’ll truly leave you? There’s nothing wrong with wanting space, but people do need other people to survive.”

One of the many things he did like about his friends was the fact that they all knew he enjoyed sweets. It was pretty obvious that he did, with the way his face would smile softly and soften at the taste of coffee jelly.

Surprisingly, they never notice that he’d much rather be left alone. Either that, or they don’t care.

It was a small outing event, they were mainly just eating and talking, but also trying their best to include Kusuo as much as possible, even though he didn’t mind being left alone with his coffee jelly and cakes.

“Man, I feel bad not including Saiki in conversations sometimes,” Kaidou mumbled, assuming Kusuo didn’t know what he had just said because he wasn’t reading Kaidou’s lips. “Since it’s hard to talk to him sometimes.”

“I’m sure we’re trying our best,” Teruhashi beamed, making Kaidou flush red.

“We should probably just learn sign language like Nendou did.” Kaidou hummed, rolling a fork between his thumb and finger. “It’d be a lot easier.” Though possibly soul crushing for him, considering Kaidou had cram school and such already on his schedule.

“Sounds fun,” Kuboyasu commented. “I’d be down. Maybe we can surprise him.” Oh that was just too much, too nice, Kusuo didn’t even know what he did to earn this much love.

Nendou snorted, grinning widely as he pumped his fist on his chest, “I can teach you all!”

“That would save a lot of money.”

Kusuo stopped eating, a rare sight to see despite him being undisturbed, and he placed his spoon down. Everyone stopped talking, looking over at him in confusion before he finally opened his mouth, surprising them even more.

“I can hear you,” Kusuo managed out. “I always could.”

Teruhashi was the first to react, eyes widening and her face turning bright red. All those comments she muttered, he had heard them all.

Nendou blinked, smiling widely with his arms spread wide, “Congratulations on learning how to hear, pal!” Not quite there, but appreciated.

“Uh, uhm, OF COURSE! I knew the whole time,” Kaidou flashed a charming grin, which would’ve worked if it weren’t for the awkward pose he was doing.

Kuboyasu only stared, and drank his tea, “Oh. Well.”

“Sorry.” Then Kusuo paused, and raised his hands to sign. Felt more comfortable being like this, but you all are too nice to me. So the least I could do was tell you the truth. I don’t talk because I have selective mutism.

Nendou translated for them, and they all softened hearing this. Kusuo pressed his back against the booth seat and fiddled with his spoon before taking another bite. That felt easy, and weight lifting. Now that they know, he didn’t have to feel so bad about them going out of their way to do things for him just because they thought he was deaf.

“Of course I knew from the beginning,” Akechi boasted slightly, eyeing Aiura and Toritsuka with a smug grin. Aiura rolled her eyes at him, but pointed at Kusuo with a narrowed look.

“So you, like, could hear us the whole time,” she confirmed with him again. “I always thought you were just stupid smart, or something, at figuring things out despite not being able to hear, y’know?” Well, she wasn’t wrong about the smart part.

“That is so annoying!” Toritsuka blurted. “You’re annoying! Jeez! Would’ve been so much easier! Did you not tell us because you want an excuse to ignore us?” Kusuo recounted the number of times he avoided Toritsuka running towards him from behind, pretending he couldn’t hear him.

He proceeded to shake his head, very very slowly.

“He’s lying, by the way,” Akechi whispered. Kusuo clicked his tongue at that, earning himself a cheeky grin from Akechi.

Well that was that, now they all knew Kusuo wasn’t some deaf kid, even though that info might’ve spread throughout the school, which he really couldn’t care less about.

It was really nice, though, having friends he could trust.

#the disasterous life of saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #saiki kusou #saiki kurumi #nendou riki #teruhashi kokomi #kaidou shun #aiura mikoto #toritsuka reita #akechi touma #kuboyasu aren

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catharrington · 4 years

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angsty sappy prompt where steve & billy arent together but they have a thing then something happens between them and steve kisses someone else in a drunken fit then goes to billy and billy gets rlly sad and soft bc theyre afraid of how much they like each other

Bullshit is ringing between Steve’s ears as he floats, hovering just barely stable in Robin’s kitchen, and gulps down another drink. His toes are curled inside of his shoes. The alcohol in his cup is swallowed down before the ice can melt. And in the living room he hears Duran Duran playing loud enough to drown out the voice inside of his head yelling he isn’t good enough.

There’s a sweep over his shoulder and down his arm. Steve turns to see Zach, a tall, tall guy he remembered from the basketball team and has been hanging off his arm all night. Two years out of highscool and out of relationships but he still knows eyes that linger when he sees them. Still knows what it’s like to long and crave, and hunger.

‘Hungry like the wolf’ starts playing just as Zach slips the empty glass from Steve’s fingers. Replacing them with his own long ones. Steve turns to face him, then flicks his eyes up to Zach’s pretty black hair. His pretty black eyes. Long, long lashes.

“Maybe you’ve had enough,” Zach tries, “lets get back to the party and dance?”

“Why can’t we dance right here?” Steve pulls on his arm, gets it straight and taught, and makes Zach stand flush to his chest. Lifts their joint hands to his shoulder while the other starts playing with the edge of Zach’s shirt right on the hip.

There’s a laugh, a slap as Zach has to use his other arm to brace on the counter quickly so they don’t fall in their swaying. “Stevie,” their noses nudge together in closeness, “I wanna drive you back home- you’re drunk!”

“I live two apartments down, Zachy, why don’t you just walk me? Save some gas?”

That gets Zach groaning. Steve pulls his arm taught to lead him out of the kitchen and past a sputtering Robin. Sloshing her drink around and calling something important after him, but Steve doesn’t listen. He gets Zach out into the hallway. It’s a miracle he doesn’t fall as the soft carpet turns to slick hardwood.

“This is my place,” Steve spots the golden letters nailed to the door and leans against it. Letting his almost dead weight crash the door in. Zach doesn’t waste a moment and follows, crowding Steve up to the door with one elbow next to his head and their hands still holding.

“Inside?” Zach asks shortly, leering down at Steve from his inches he has on him. It makes Steve feel kept, feel wanted. Hell, maybe it makes him feel good enough.

Steve reaches one hand up to trace along Zachs jaw, fingertips stabbing the underside, and leans in for a quick kiss. Zach scoots his hand closer to cradle the back of Steve’s head holding him there. They move to either side, let their lips search and move as they take and take. Steve whimpers soft and low into the kiss, because his eyes are burning wet.

He draws back first, shocked as much as Zach is, blinking back tears. He sucks in a breath just to try and clear his head. It doesn’t quite work.

“Stevie,” Zach starts. He bends in to press another kiss, but Steve turns and he only pecks the corner of gin glossy lips.

Steve can’t say he doesn’t want, because god he wants. Can’t say he isn’t hungry, because yes he craves swollen sporty arms boxing him in against the wood. But Steve doesn’t know how to say he doesn’t feel a thing. His stomach is soured with its emptiness. Maybe he drank too much on too little dinner. But he hasn’t had lunch or breakfast, for that matter. So Steve can’t seem to form the right words.

“I’m tired,” he says.

“Let me take you to bed then?” Zach is leering. His dark brows high on his forehead.

“I- ah... no, no, not tonight. My- my roommate is home. I shouldn’t.” Steve searches for the words and lets them flow as they come.

Zach, for all the hours Steve has gotten to know him that night, surprises him as he backs off. Dragging his arm heavy down the door and untangles his fingers with Steve’s. “I’ve got your number,” he says as much as he asks, “and now I know where you live,” he smiles.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he runs his hand across Zach’s jaw again, it’s not as warm he he wishes. Doesn’t burn. “Give me a call.”

Then his black hair is disappearing down the hallway and around the corner. Steve watches it go, before he tentatively turns the knob.

Inside, their small two bedroom smells like warm spice. There’s a whisper of a rolling boil, and louder than that a humming from the kitchen. Steve steps out of his shoes and drops his coat and keys where they may before he lets the smell hook his nose and drag him.

Billy is cooking something in a huge metal pot. Stirring it with a huge spoon, one hand leafing through a book, and humming. Steve might recognize it as Black Sabbath, some soft low heavy shit. But he doesn’t say.

“Smells so good, Bill,” he does say. Heaving himself up into one of their counter stools. “You haven’t cooked in so long- like, so long.”

Billy shrugs. Doesn’t turn around. “Haven’t been hungry.” Steve bites at the bottom of his lip. Brings his thumb up to toy with it when it’s nice and swollen. Watches Billy’s arm flex as he stirs the pot. He’s so hungry.

“Making it for the house, right? I’m so drunk and I’ve got the taste of this random guy in my mouth I just have to get out,” Steve rambles when he doesn’t mean to. Overshares and digs holes, it’s his stick. He screws his eyes shut and curses himself. Billy’s humming is gone. The voices inside Steve’s head are back reminding him he isn’t worth shit.

Steve closes his eyes and misses the way Billy’s arm flexes. How he rips at the corner of his cooking book’s paper just a tad.

“Of course, pretty boy. You know you’re welcome to help yourself. I mean- you would if I just left it in the fridge anyway.” Billy rolls his shoulders back and tries to laugh off their stiffness but it’s hard. It’s so hard.

“Guilty,” Steve sings. He pretends to laugh right along side Billy.

Then there’s a shallow wooden bowl clicking down on the counter in front of Steve. A spoon dipped into the thick yellow sauce. “Curry,” Billy explains with a tick of his full lips, a pretty turn up of his kissable red smile, “not the best for a midnight snack, but it’s good for comfort food.”

Steve’s fingers pass Billy’s as he takes the spoon. They are hot, just as warm as the steam rolling off the curry. He imagines he hears a shivering exhale, but it might just be his imagination. “I hope it’s good for hangovers!” Steve yelps out interrupting his own thoughts.

He’s earned a soft nod, another smile. And Billy is looking down at his own bowl poking at the hot food. “So who’s the lucky asshole who left a bad taste in your mouth?” He asks.

Steve blows on a spoofull of food like a child, takes the bite, then talks with his mouth open, “Zach- uh, some guy from high school. He’s alright. Thinking about loosing his number down the drain though.”

“His breath that rank?” Billy’s hands stop playing with his food. His eyes are cast down and focusing on the movement of Steve’s lips.

Steve takes another bite. Doesn’t know how to say I was imaging your ugly mustache, I was hoping for someone warmer like you. Doesn’t know how to call out Billy on watching his lips like he wants to kiss him. Steve really really doesn’t know how to ask if that means more. How to admit that he wants that to mean more.

So he chews. Tries to forget Billy only pulls out his mom’s cook book from California when he gets sad. Swallows, and watches Billy’s eyes follow his Adam’s apple move with it.

“I like to keep my options open,” he settles on. “I’m not really the relationship type. Don’t want to break any hearts.”

Billy laughs and looks down at the counter. His hair soft in the glow of only a single light behind him. The rest of the apartment almost black. Steve hasn’t noticed until now that Billy’s hair has gotten long since the last time he let Steve run his fingers though it. Grip it hard. Pull his head back as he kissed him.

Steve reaches his claws out, forgetting his food and his self for just a cloudy drunken moment, and touches the tip of one ringlet curl.

“Open,” Billy repeats in a soft tone.

“Bill,” Steve tugs. He’s hungry, wants attention, those blue eyes back on him. “Can we eat on your bed? Take this to go, I mean?”

The curl gets pulled from Steve’s hands with a sharp shake of his head. Billy pushs up off the counter, leaves his bowl to get cold. “You’re drunk, Steve. Go to sleep.”

Breathing in one shaky breath, letting out a long tendril of smoke; Steve steadies his hand from shivering so bad the spoon falls from it. Billy’s door closes on the far end of their two bed room apartment. He’s back in silence. Back to not being good enough.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #my fic #harringrove fanfic #steve/billy #thanks for this prompt its such a jam #sorry ive got more sad steve im in a sad steve mood #shrug emoji

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