#shooting u with the mutual beam BACK

[jizzlords]

⭐

[echos-gal]

Point and Shoot

Crosshair x f!reader (Rotating POV)

Summary: Crosshair is new to Pabu and is struggling to adjust. He is smitten when he meets you, the local garden shop owner. Mutual shyness, is-this-a-date-or-not mishaps, and finally opening up.

Rating: SFW. Pure fluff. Some self-hate, mentions of regret. First kiss.

A/N: This is my first fic ever, pls be nice ;u; I honestly might make this more of a slow-burn series eventually, but for now... enjoy!

-----

The first time Crosshair saw you was at Pabu's summer solstice festival. His brothers had dragged him along, hoping that he would finally start socializing with the other islanders. He was still overcome with guilt, anger, and grief from his time with the Empire - trusting others did not come easy to him. And who would want to associate with damaged goods? If the nasty burn scar on the side of his head wasn't enough, he was convinced his past would surely scare anyone away.

But as Crosshair and his brothers walked through the crowd, something caught his eye.

As Pabu's floral expert, you had a small table set up with cuttings of various blooms, helping children make flower crowns and necklaces. The sun shined on your cheeks as you smiled. You looked up just in time to catch him staring, eyes sparkling as you waved at him shyly.

Crosshair did not return the wave. In fact, he was too embarrassed to acknowledge that he had been caught admiring you. You were easily the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

Realizing that he'd stopped in his tracks, he quickly turned away to catch up with his brothers.

"HA! Yeah, we saw you staring," Wrecker exclaimed, beaming. "Don't blame ya." He winked, causing Crosshair to scowl.

"I don't know what you're talking about." replied Crosshair.

Hunter, always the diplomat, attempted to calm the situation by explaining that you were a gardener who provided the islanders with flowers for nearly every occasion. You had started up a small garden center after moving to Pabu as a refugee. Crosshair committed your name to memory, repeating it over and over in his head as the solstice sun set.

-----

Ding-ding!

You straightened up, wiping the dirt off your hands onto your apron. Why do customers always stop by when you're in the middle of repotting plants?

"Welcome! How can I - oh, hello Tech!" you exclaimed with a smile, realizing who your visitor was. Tech shared your love of rare floral varieties, and often stopped by to discuss your shop's latest botanical acquisitions. He'd purchased a couple bouquets recently as well, which you'd later seen lovingly displayed at your friend Phee's house.

"Anything I can do for you today? Or are you just here to browse?"

"Well, er, I was wondering if you might have, uh, any potted angiosperms native to the planet Medita." Tech replied nervously.

"Phee's home planet?" you asked, grinning. You turned around to take a look at your inventory list as your friend rambled excuses and stuttered about the weather.

"Well, I've got a couple diff-" You froze. Turning back towards Tech, you'd noticed someone lurking in the shop's doorway.

"Ah, yes. I neglected to mention - that is my brother Crosshair. He is a recent arrival to Pabu. Crosshair is not one for extensive conversation. However, he did surprise me by requesting to join in this errand." said Tech.

"Oh." You quickly glanced again at the doorway, not wanting to scare his brother away. Maybe he was just shy. "Well, anyways. I do have a few pots of native Medita flowers if you'd like to have a look."

You showed Tech a shelf full of brightly colored blooms, each one different from the next. He was intrigued, commenting on every plant and taking out his data pad for reference.

"And this would be the Coastal Indigo Coneflower- the variegated variety - correct?" asked Tech, skimming his fingers over the blue flowers' multicolored foliage.

"That's right. It only grows on Medita's eastern hemisphere, in the right soil conditions." you replied.

"Fascinating..." said Tech, adjusting his goggles and leaning in closer for inspection. He was distracted for the time being, and you couldn't help but peer over his shoulder at his less talkative brother.

Crosshair still hadn't fully entered the shop. The tall, slim man stood awkwardly in the doorway, making an obvious effort to look everywhere but towards you. You recognized him from the solstice festival, although you doubted he remembered you. Tan-skinned and brown-eyed like his brothers, but with an entirely different demeanor. Reserved, scowling slightly. You could just barely see the thin lines of a tattoo inked over his right eye and eyebrow. He had short grey hair that stopped at the right side of his head, revealing a large patch of scarred skin above his ear.

'Maker,' you thought to yourself, 'he's gorgeous.' You hoped the heat in your face wasn't visible.

"I will take this one." said Tech suddenly, snapping you out of your daze. You headed to the counter and rung up the beautiful potted plant he'd selected, crossing it off your inventory list.

"She'll love it," you said quietly as he turned to leave.

He smiled sheepishly. "I do hope so."

You waved goodbye as he rejoined his brother at the door. As you locked eyes with Crosshair, your grin widened, and you could swear you could see the ghost of a smile on his lips.

-----

He was an idiot, thought Crosshair. You were so gorgeous and he was a damn fool.

"I do not understand why you refused to enter the garden center," said Tech. "Are you allergic to the pollen? I was under the impression that Hunter was the only one who suffered from a histamine reaction due to his heightened senses triggering an immune response..."

Crosshair ignored his brother's rambling, thinking about how you'd smiled at him moments ago. The whole reason he'd gone with Tech was to see you again. Ever since your brief encounter at last week's solstice festival, Crosshair couldn't keep you out of his head. But doubt and nerves overcame him, preventing him from sweeping you off your feet as he had in his dreams. All he could do was stand in the doorway and pretend not to care.

Your warm smile, however, melted something close to his heart.

-----

"Crosshair! All you need to do is ask her on a date! I'm sure she'll say yes! Maybe a cafe? A walk on the beach? Ooh, I know. You can take her shooting!"

Omega was the only one Crosshair spoke with openly about his growing crush on you. He knew she wouldn't tease him like his brothers might. And she seemed to be full of enthusiasm about the possibility of Crosshair having a girlfriend.

"Can't. Pabu's not exactly the place for blasters." said Crosshair wearily.

"No, no. Not with your rifle. With your camera!" Omega exclaimed.

Ugh. She wouldn't let this go, would she? Crosshair, itching to point and shoot as he'd always done, had picked up photography in an effort to do something productive with his enhanced eyesight. The use of a scope, the mechanics of holocameras, and the feeling of aiming at something felt familiar to him. The fact that his shots wouldn't kill was an unexpectedly nice change of pace. Island life was starting to feel more natural.

"Maybe." he replied.

"YES." said Omega defiantly, ignoring her brother's hesitance. "I've seen your photos. They're great. I'm sure she'd love to see them - and you've taken tons of nature pictures. Show her your flower collection!"

"It's not that impressive."

"Tech said your shots were better than most of the references on the holoweb. And that you could make a lot of credits if you printed and sold them."

"I just do it to keep myself busy."

Omega crossed her arms. "Look, all you need to do is ask if you can photograph her garden. She's got tons of rare flowers. Ask her about them! Strike up a conversation!"

"You know I'm not good at that." said Crosshair.

"Then let your camera do the talking!"

Crosshair considered his options. Omega was right (as she usually was) - this was a great excuse to get to know you. If you didn't seem interested in him, he could easily play it off as just wanting to photograph rare flowers. If you did seem interested, he could ask you to accompany him to his usual nature photography sites around the island. They were all dateworthy, but the waterfall on the far side of the island was like nothing else. He made up his mind.

"Fine," he groaned, "Tomorrow."

-----

You knelt down over a tray of tiny seedlings, misting them with the hose nozzle's finest setting. Too much water pressure and they would be flattened. Soon they'd be ready for transplanting into their own individual containers.

Ding ding!

"Welcome! How can I help you?" you said as you got up, realizing that your visitor was none other than Crosshair. You silently wished that you weren't covered in dirt at the moment.

"Er- I, uh, I'm Tech's brother. From yesterday. I was wondering if I could take pictures of your plants," he said. He seemed nervous.

"Oh! Crosshair, right? Omega mentioned your nature photography last time she was here with Echo." He looked startled. "She said you're fantastic," you added with a smile.

"It's just a hobby to keep me occupied." said Crosshair, avoiding your eyes and fidgeting with the lens cap of the camera slung around his neck.

"Well, by all means take some photos! I've got some bulbs from Naboo that are just starting to bloom, and some climbing vines in the back trellis-" you paused, noticing his eyes wander towards the sprouts you'd been misting.

You led him over to the tray on the ground. "These aren't super impressive yet. Desert Aster shoots," you explained, gesturing towards one of the small green plants. "I've just watered them."

"Hm." grunted Crosshair, turning on his camera and pointing it towards the tray. He was completely still for several seconds, staring into the camera's viewfinder and barely breathing. You held your breath too. He seemed like a pro at this.

Click!

He straightened up, studying the camera's display screen. Then he turned it towards you, again avoiding your eyes.

The screen before you showed tiny shimmering water droplets atop the asters' minuscule leaves. The vibrant green plants stood out against the moisture-darkened soil. He had even caught a sunbeam, lightening part of the photo with translucent gold.

"That's incredible," you exclaimed in awe, smiling at him. You thought his ears looked slightly pinker than usual. "I didn't know aster shoots could be so beautiful. Do you only shoot shoots?"

Crosshair's mouth formed a faint grin at your joke. "No, I shoot other things. Animals, waterfalls." 'Droids, people.' he thought bitterly, another kind of shooting coming to mind. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He was a different person now. He was trying.

There was a stretch of silence as he fumbled with the lens cap again. You brushed some dirt off your apron, hoping it would mask your sudden shyness. You were sitting so close. Crosshair cleared his throat.

"Would you want to... come with me? Next time I'm out?" he asked quietly. He seemed very determined to affix his lens cap in exactly the right position, looking downwards at his hands.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he asking you out? Could this be a date? Surely, he's too handsome not to be taken already... right?

"Yes! Yes. I- um, I'm off at six. Unless you wanted a later date. DAY. A later day," you rambled.

"Six is good." he said shortly. He got up and walked towards the door. "I'll be back then." And with that, he left.

-----

Crosshair showed up outside the garden center just as you were locking up. You waved eagerly at him. He held a hand up in greeting. 'I cannot screw this up,' he thought, taking in your beautiful features.

"So, where to?" you asked. The sun was just getting ready to set, and you knew that anywhere on the island would soon look brilliant.

"The west side. There's a trail next to the park. It's not far." said Crosshair. "There's people." he added quickly, realizing that taking a girl on a remote first date seemed sketchy. Had he even made it clear that this was a date? Did she even want this to be a date?

"Oh, I know. The park is always full of families at this time of day," you said with a chuckle. "Lead the way!"

Together, you walked the short distance to the park. As usual, parents and children populated the field and benches, laughing and playing. He stopped at the trailhead, where you could hear a bubbling stream.

"Here," he said, gesturing towards the stream's direction. "You've been here before, right?"

"I have. I sometimes walk here on weekends," you said, running your hand along some leaves from a drooping tree branch. An elderly couple exited the trail, hobbling along slowly while holding each others' hands. You wished so badly to be holding Crosshair's.

-----

The two of you entered the trail and walked along the water. You said hello to each passerby, cheerfully waving as they strode along. Crosshair seemed to shy away from the others, ducking his head or purposely looking towards the stream. You wondered if he'd made any new friends since coming to Pabu. He felt like he belonged here, didn't he?

Crosshair slowed down and pointed towards the stream's opposite bank. There, pouring over a ledge a few feet up, was a glistening waterfall. You'd passed it before while walking this trail, but never took the time to stop and really observe it. It disappeared and reappeared in a few rocky locations above where it splashed into the stream, creating multiple tiny falls. The setting sun cast a gentle light on the curve of the water as it bent around the rocky ledges.

You noticed Crosshair get his camera out and lower himself onto his stomach, resting while propped up on his elbows. You did the same, daring to come shoulder-to-shoulder with him. As he adjusted his camera to photograph the falls, you took in his profile. His nose was long and straight, a few freckles here and there. His eyelashes were longer than you'd initially thought, and despite the grey hair, his eyebrows were dark. As he squinted into the eyepiece, you noted how his tattoo scrunched up.

Click!

He looked at the camera screen. Not bad. Satisfied with the shot, he turned towards you, only to find you staring at him intently. Crosshair was suddenly self-conscious. You'd settled on his right side, with a clear view of his burn. A constant reminder, every time he looked into the mirror, that he'd once tried to kill the very siblings that brought him here. A permanent relic of his misdeeds. An ugly sign of an ugly past.

"I know." he said angrily, shifting his shoulder away from yours.

"Know what?" you asked. Had you upset him?

"I know it's disgusting. The scar." he grumbled. His face was now facing forward again, contorted in anger, and... shame?

"No, no, no. Oh, Crosshair, that's not why I was looking at you," you said, daring to reach out and touch his opposite cheek, turning him back to look at you. He yanked his face back.

"Then why? Didn't my brothers tell you about me? How I used to work with the Empire? All the terrible things I've done?" he asked, voice faintly shaky. He ran his fingers along the bumpy scar tissue.

"Yes. They did," you said, gently removing his hand from the scar. "They told me about how you changed. You're here because you turned against the Empire. Even when you were a prisoner, you risked your life to warn them. I don't know all the details, but I can tell you're a good person, Crosshair."

He looked at you, finally making eye contact. His eyes were wide, a deep and beautiful brown. The anger in his face turned to surprise, as though he hadn't expected your kindness. Crosshair's hand, now held by your own, reached up and settled into your hair. He leaned closer, his eyes on your mouth. You closed the distance.

His lips were soft against yours, his kiss hesitant and sweet. You placed your hand on the side of his face, slowly running your thumb along his cheekbone. You separated, barely touching, breath on each other's lips, before coming together again. He kissed you like you were made of glass, afraid you'd shatter beneath him. You breathed a quiet sigh and deepened the kiss. You felt his tongue on your lower lip.

You shifted yourself onto your back, feeling the cushion of the grass beneath you. You reached your hands up gently onto his shoulders as he leaned down, quickly putting his camera aside. He didn't hesitate. Crosshair smashed his lips to yours, and you to his. You smiled into the kiss and felt him do the same. The two of you parted, panting lightly, noses touching.

The moment was short-lived, however, as you heard kids running along the trail. You pried yourselves apart, hoping you weren't spotted. You realized that it was getting late - it would be dark soon. You looked shyly at him. He had no problem looking you in the eye now, a gentle expression on his face. He wasn't scowling like he usually was.

"I do really like you, Crosshair. And I meant what I said. You're a good person." you said softly.

"Hm. I think I like you, too." he replied, the corner of his mouth turned into a lopsided smile. "We should probably get going. It's getting dark."

-----

You walked back along the stream, brushing your fingers against his. He took the hint, locking your hands together. You exited the trailhead hand-in-hand as the elderly couple had, your previous wish fulfilled. How had you been so lucky, to find someone like him?

He walked you back to your house, only a short distance from the garden center. Along the way, you both stopped to admire the setting sun. Crosshair snapped a few photos of the gorgeous landscape - and of you, when you were busy admiring the sky. How had he been so lucky, to find someone like you?

As you came to your house, you slowed. "Crosshair," you said, "I never told you why I was looking at you. Earlier, by the stream."

"Hm?" prompted Crosshair, raising his eyebrows.

"It's because I couldn't believe I was with you. I've liked you since I first saw you at the solstice festival. You're beautiful- on the inside, too."

Crosshair had never been called beautiful before. Beauty was for the landscapes he photographed, and the flowers you grew. For sunsets and for you. He was a former soldier, now broken and burned. He'd been tossed aside by the very people who made him. Withdrawn and troubled and... beautiful. Maybe if you thought so, it could be true.

"If you say so."

He leaned forward and kissed you again, both hands tenderly cupping your face. You smiled up at him.

"Hey, you never showed me your waterfall picture!" you exclaimed, gripping his wrists still on either side of your face. "You have to show me tomorrow. Or another day. Whenever you're free again."

"Tomorrow." He kissed your forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you said, slipping into your house and closing the door gently, with one look back over your shoulder.

Crosshair walked back to the small house he shared with his brothers and sister. No doubt he'd be grilled by them on how his date went - Omega had surely told everyone. He sighed, and his mind wandered back to you. Maybe he was a good person. If you of all people saw something in him, that was enough.

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

 character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: a lil bit angsty 

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood 

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - - 

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought. 

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back. 

jealousy panged in his chest. 

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to. 

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there. 

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter? 

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help. 

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first. 

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it. 

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something? 

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time. 

- 

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one. 

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet. 

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp. 

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child. 

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it. 

perhaps you were being cocky. 

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him. 

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted. 

it was interesting for another reason. 

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest. 

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown. 

“don’t get distracted.” 

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down. 

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight. 

he panted atop you, hands tightening. 

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima. 

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in. 

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets. 

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed. 

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck. 

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?” 

“you heard me.” 

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more. 

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood. 

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.” 

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?” 

“you’re strong, damn idiot.” 

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.” 

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight. 

- 

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway. 

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered. 

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him. 

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?” 

“you’re creepy as shit.” 

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-” 

“while you peeped in on y/n?” 

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.” 

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man. 

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.” 

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.” 

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.” 

“fine?” 

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?” 

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped. 

“you train with me.” 

“it’s an hour before curfew.” 

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked. 

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle. 

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass. 

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays. 

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend. 

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff. 

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one. 

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly. 

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched. 

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission. 

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack. 

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side. 

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars. 

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright. 

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?” 

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.” 

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help. 

“we should head back before this gets any worse.” 

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.  

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out. 

- 

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself. 

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt. 

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat. 

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?” 

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.” 

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you. 

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?” 

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed. 

“dude, i’m really sorry—” 

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.” 

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.” 

“your nose is broken,” you said gently. 

“so? can’t you fix it?” 

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?” 

“can you or can you not?” 

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―” 

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.” 

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm. 

- 

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though. 

[thrillridesz]

the one that got away | k.m

in part of the ‘love die young’ collab hosted by @junjungsunwoo​

➔ pairing: kevin x reader (f) x juyeon

➔ genre: angst, love triangle, amnesia!au, artist!au, lovers to strangers, friends to lovers

➔ warnings: swearing, smoking, injuries, heartbreak, mentions and consumption of alcohol, accidents

➔ word count: 6.2k 

➔ fic playlist: The one that got away - Katy Perry | Don’t wanna cry - Seventeen | Faded in my last song - NCT U | Goodbye - The Boyz | Teardrops on my guitar - Taylor Swift | Spring Day - BTS | A thousand years - Christina Perri | River flows in you - YIRUMA 

➔ a/n : dedicated to one of my best friends/mutuals here @sunqnyu​ who I’ve cameoed in this fic! also unedited for the moment. All feedback is HIGHLY appreciated.

“Kevin, Kevin! I have news!”

Footsteps pounded against the wooden floorboard, the sound reverberating through the entire studio, sawdust flying beneath shuffling feet. The homely smell of a crackling fireplace and dark coffee hung delightfully in the air, the sounds of clinking metal ringing faintly as beautiful, wooden sculptures began to take form right before the artist’s very eyes. The studio was spacious and airy, the glass windows above allowing the bright sun beams to shine through, illuminating the room with its natural lighting.

Several wooden work tables were situated in the middle of the room with open toolboxes, enormous blocks of wood of all kinds and unfinished wooden art sprawled across the tables. On the walls, were shelves and shelves of elegantly carved wooden pieces of art from a wooden swan to a carved wooden house and a large canvas board where woodworking tools were displayed proudly despite looking well used. One could tell that whoever had them displayed had a great deal of pride in them.

At a far corner of the studio, Kevin looked up from the wooden sculpture he had been tinkering away, his dark eyes shining through the glass goggles he had on. The canvas apron tied around his slender waist wrinkled ever so slightly when he shifted, mild annoyance radiating off him at the now broken momentum he had just a few seconds ago. His raven hair fell softly over his eyes as he leaned back into his work, attempting to regain his concentration once more much to the lady’s irritation.

“I’m busy, Bella. Go bother someone else.”

The woman in front of him frowned, clearly affronted by his words.

“You need to take a break sometimes” She scoffed, pulling a chair and crossing her arms over the back of the chair as she sat down in front of him. “You’re such a workaholic, I feel like you could actually be some sort of masochist.”

Kevin lifted his gaze to look at her, his eyes intense yet piercing as his eyebrows furrowed together. The sunlight shining through the rustic, glass window from behind only made him look more intimidating, the shadows bringing out his features in sharp angles.

“I will when I’m done.”

“You’ll want to hear this. I promise.” Bella said slowly and this time, Kevin snapped his head up more in annoyance rather than curiosity.

“Fine, what is it? Shoot.”

“It’s y/n.”

Immediately, Kevin stiffened. His grip on the chisel in his hand tightened until he was sure he was leaving a mark in his own palm. He could feel his heartbeat picking up the pace just at the mere mention of your name before he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Turning back to his sculpture, he tried his hardest to maintain his focus.

“She’s none of my business. Why are we talking about her?” He asked in a cool voice without looking up but Bella noticed a slight wobbling at the last word. Suddenly, her hurriedness to get the news to him seemed almost cruel to her, like deep down she wanted to see how grief-stricken he would be. She bit her lip, feeling herself get cold feet but he needed to know.

“She’s getting married, Kevin.”

The tool in Kevin’s hand almost fell from his usually firm grip as he felt his stomach fall. He snapped his head up to look at Bella, with an indescribable look in his eyes. He could feel his hands begin to tremble as the fear crept in despite his best efforts to remain nonchalant. He could barely get a grip as he whispered softly, “Married?”

“Yeah. To...” She trailed off, an uncomfortable expression on her face. “To Juyeon.”

Kevin bit at his lower lip, his focus on his sculpture now wavering. The pounding in his heart was now so much faster and stronger than ever that he would be surprised if Bella couldn’t hear it. Trying his hardest to remain a strong front, there was an almost blank and careless expression on his face.

“Look, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Are you okay?” She asked, her heart tinged with regret.

Kevin looked away, a faraway look in his eyes. There was a moment of silence before he exhaled.

“Whatever she does, whatever happens to them… I don’t care.”

Bella watched quietly as the man turned back to his woodwork, his eyes trained intently on the sculpture in front of him.

This was just like Kevin. He was always pretending things didn’t bother him when they did. Having been friends with him for almost a decade, she was quick to pick up on things like that. She ought to have been used to Kevin’s mannerisms by now but seeing her best friend in such an emotionally damaged state made her upset.

Behind that blank, unmoving gaze, she knew he was fighting conflicting emotions and what was worse, was the fact that she could do nothing about it. The man had too many walls built around him, tearing them down would be akin to scaling Mount Everest without protective gear on - impossible.

Yet, could you really blame him? At 23, Kevin had been through too much and the last thing Bella wanted to do was tip him over the edge. Experience had told her that questioning it would only drive her further away from her best friend.

Opening her mouth, she hesitated for a moment before closing it again.

Perhaps it would be better to just leave it at that.

As Bella turned to go back to her station, Kevin stared quietly at his unfinished work, the inspiration to continue through it dying rapidly as he felt a dull ache in his heart.

Your hands feel small in his, delicate and soft.

Kevin couldn’t help but smile softly into your hair as he covered your body with his, his hands over yours as your fingers tried to mold the stubborn lump of clay before you. Your fingers were grey with wet clay and your body shook ever so slightly as you giggled to yourself, your eyes shining with playful joy.

“Stop laughing. We’ll ruin this again,” he scolded, his voice teasing and soft.

“I know I shouldn’t but the feeling of your hands on mine and this soft clay tickling my fingertips as it spins is almost unbearable.”

Bella, who was sitting from a distance away, rolled her eyes. “Get a room, you lovebirds.”

Your face began to heat up as you peered up at her shyly while Kevin merely tossed her an indifferent, smug grin, his hands still on yours with his body still hugging over your smaller frame.

“You wish you had what we have,” he winked.

“Ew, no way,” she gagged in an exaggerated way but her eyes twinkled. “Love turns your brain to mush, see Exhibit A.”

She gestured towards the two of you and Kevin rolled his eyes while you wore an intense blush on your face.

“We’re fine, thank you very much.”

“Sure,” she replied, “By the way, about the Sunday proj-”

She stopped mid sentence, her eyes wide with surprise as she stared at something behind the two of you. Her mouth has dropped to form an ‘o’ shape and the paintbrush she holds in her hand clatters to the ground.

Curious, Kevin turned behind him and his grip over your hands faltered, ruining the clay pot the two of you were sculpting. You were startled as your hands suddenly collapsed onto the clay, the soft curve the two of you had tried so hard to carve out together, destroyed. Frowning, you looked in the direction the two of them were gaping at.

Standing at the entrance of the studio, a certain tall, dark-haired man wore an excitable grin on his face. His features are sharp, defined and his eyes narrow but intense, sparkling with bright youthfulness. He had a handsome face, the kind of face that you’d stop when you saw him on the streets.

“Who’s that?” You whispered under your breath but Kevin didn’t seem to have heard you as he rushed over, almost tackling the man with a bone crushing hug. The man’s laugh rang through the studio and he didn’t seem to mind that his starch white shirt was getting stained grey as Bella bolted past you, joining in the hug.

Only you sat where you were, stunned and confused. Who was that?

“Juyeon! It’s been so long!” Kevin cried, clapping the man on his shoulder while Bella remained plastered to his side, hugging him affectionately.

“Um…” You looked on, unsure of what to do and finally, he seemed to notice the bewildered expression on your face.

“Oh! Y/n, this is Juyeon! He’s a good friend of ours, went to the same art school as Bella and I,” he explained, the grin on his face stretched wide on his face. “He went overseas to shadow a famous Italian artist and literally everyone in our batch was so jealous.”

“Oh come on, I was lucky,” Juyeon smiled and he turned to you, “Hi, it’s nice to meet-”

It was as if the words were suddenly caught at the back of his throat and his dark eyes widened both in what seemed to be shock and awe. You could feel his eyes sweeping over you carefully and instantly, you felt self conscious. Yet as soon as you thought you saw it happen, a kind, gentle look fell over his features.

“...Meet you,” he extended a hand, beaming warmly.

“Nice to meet you.” You replied uncertainly and grasp his hand, shaking it.

“Y/n’s my girlfriend,” Kevin explained and neither of you notice it but Juyeon’s shoulders drop slightly and his eyes darken ever so slightly.

“Ah, I see.”

“These lovebirds met in this studio. If it wasn’t for me, they would never have been together.” Bella quips.

Juyeon cocks an eyebrow at Kevin, who scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well…”

“I knew Bella from the café I worked at and I was looking for a new hobby to pick up and she said this place had art lessons so I joined and… The rest is history.” You replied, smiling and Juyeon shot you a meaningful look. You are unsure of what to make of it and there’s something about it that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Right.”

Kevin sees the look his best friend is giving his girlfriend. It is critical, sharp and one of wonder, the kind of look he has seen on Juyeon’s face so many times when he analyses a piece of artwork. The look in his eyes is gentle, carefree but there is something different about it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

For some reason, it doesn’t sit right with him and a slight shiver runs down his spine. Something about it feels off but he cannot pinpoint what. His eyes dart between Juyeon and you, a tinge of dread tugging at his heart but instead, he smiles. He shakes off the weird feeling and dismisses it as mere overthinking. He was probably working too hard or just overjoyed at the appearance of Juyeon so much so that his feelings and emotions are all over the place.

It wouldn’t be until later that he realises that he should have paid it more attention.

That night, the drive home was silent.

He’d watched the streets roll past him in a flurry of lights against the dark canvas of the night sky. Usually, Kevin would have played some music on the stereo but today, he simply didn’t feel like it. He was exhausted and tired, too tired to do anything other than get himself home and in bed.

After he pulls into the garage of his home, he checks his mailbox and finds a small, off white envelope sealed with a golden wax seal. It is lavender scented and even though he knows what its contents are, he rips it open emotionlessly and easily. The wedding invitation itself is written in elegant calligraphy and as his eyes slide lower, he feels his heart constrict painfully.

Upon entering, his apartment was quiet, dark and as he plopped his keys into a nearby wooden tray by the front door, the sound of metal clanking against wood reverberated through the house. The dark windows reflected the emptiness of the house, the rustic, woody interior. A long time ago, this home was his safe haven, his abode and in a way, it still was. But it wasn’t the same kind of safe haven.

There were several messages from work and a few from Soodam, a girl he’d been casually seeing.

soodam: i won’t be around for the next week or so

soodam: it’s work.

The look on his face was blank, devoid of expression and he shuffled over to his room.

As the hot water hit his bare back later in the shower, Kevin’s head was downcast as he ran a hand through his wet hair. Steam was rising from his shower and the water was getting a little too hot, the droplets scalding his skin and stinging his flesh but he couldn’t seem to care.

“What is that supposed to be?” Juyeon gestured towards your sculpture, his brows knitted together in confusion.

You stared at the clay figurine in front of you, shaped awkwardly by your clumsy fingers that seemed to have no sense of artistic flair. What was supposed to be a clay figurine of a woman looked more like a tree and a very grotesque one at that. Bella, who was sitting at another table had almost spat out the iced tea she was drinking upon walking in and you scowled at him.

“It’s… It’s abstract,” you bowed your head, ignoring the teasing smirk on his face.

“Sure it is,” Juyeon snorted, turning his focus back to his oil painting. “You know, abstract and trashy aren’t interchangeable.”

“You-”

“Are you guys really at it again?” Kevin asks, his arms overflowing with rolls of paintings as he enters the studio. His hair is disheveled and his paint splattered apron is wrinkled as he juggles everything in his arms. Plopping everything onto a nearby work station, he wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm as he shoots the both of you a questioning look.

“Juyeon’s just being a jerk again,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So much for being a gentleman.”

“Woah,” Juyeon held up his hands in mock surprise but his eyes held a glint of mischief and playfulness. He was clearly taking pleasure in ruffling your feathers. “Look at that and tell me that that thing over there does not resemble a sea monster more than a woman.” He points at your sculpture and you glare at him, holding your hammer like a weapon.

He chuckled in response, his eyes shining with joy as he looked at you in a way that almost made you shy.

The look on Kevin’s face was one of amusement. “She’s trying her best, I think it looks fine.”

“Kevin’s the best,” you declare, as Kevin walks over and you hug him tightly at the waist while sticking your tongue out at Juyeon.

“I was just joking.” He says and Kevin couldn’t help but notice a slight tensing in his shoulders as the mirth disappeared from his eyes. His expression darkened and the buoyancy in him seemed to deflate ever so slightly but as soon as Kevin thought he saw it happen, Juyeon was already wearing his trademark grin. “Ever heard of a joke, y/n?”

Before any of you could reply, he waved his hand carelessly.

“Whatever, I’m going to focus on my painting here. I’ll catch you guys in a hot minute.”

With that, he picked up his painting and left the room without casting a second glance at either of you.

Kevin stood in front of the mirror, his expression blank as he looked at his reflection. How did he suddenly look so tired?

There were dark circles hanging under his eyes from the many sleepless nights leading up to this day, his eyes dull and icy. He looked impeccable in his black suit and coiffed hair but the expression and fatigue that was plain as day on his face indicated otherwise. He was an empty shell of a person, pretty and dressed up for the occasion on the outside, empty and hollow inside.

As he drove later down the streets, Kevin ignored the growing ache in his heart. It was a terribly painful and agonising ache, one that threatened to rip him apart but he pushed it away. Kevin’s face was devoid of even a shred of emotion and he stared straight ahead at the road in front of him. He wasn’t going to break, not if he could help it. He’d managed to ignore his own feelings for so long, what is another couple of hours?

His fingernails were making crescent shaped indents into the leather steering wheel by the time he rolled up to the wedding venue. He could hear the vague chattering of the wedding guests outside as they drank champagne from elegant glass champagne flutes and helped themselves to gourmet canapés while they waited for the ceremony to start. Kevin screwed his eyes shut, massaging the bridge of his nose as he leaned his head against the cushion of the driver’s seat, trying to calm the pounding in his chest.

He could do this, couldn’t he?

There was a sudden knock on the car window and he turned to see Bella, leaned over as she peered into the car and at him in concern. Her lips were moving but he could barely make out what she was trying to say. His legs felt like they weighed a ton as he exited from the vehicle and Bella frowned, a worried expression on her face.

She was wearing a gorgeous lilac purple dress, one that flared at her hips and hung off her shoulders. Deep down, Kevin wasn’t sure if he should feel upset that she’d taken the liberty to dress really well for the wedding or impressed at her get up. He just smiled weakly, “You look great, Bella.”

“I thought you weren’t coming.” She said, ignoring his compliment. “Why are you here anyways? We both know you’re not over y/n. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Wow, not even a ‘thank you’ or ‘hey, you look great too’. Do I look that terrible?” He forced a laugh but Bella merely narrowed her eyes.

“Kevin.”

Her tone was firm, set and Kevin knew he wasn’t going to get anything past her. He sighed heavily, turning away from her. “Are we really going to do this here? I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you’re fine?”

There was a pause before he replied.

“No.”

The rainstorm was raging, violent and the wind was so strong that the branches on the trees swayed sideways, threatening to snap any moment. The roads were dark from the overcast clouds and fast darkening skies, making it difficult to look at what was on the road ahead. Raindrops pattered loudly against the glass pane of the car window but it was nothing compared to the chaos within.

“I don’t understand why you would do that! You know that she was just trying to get your attention!” You raised your voice, the red hot anger in you pumping adrenaline through your blood.

“Look,” Kevin said calmly but you could feel his annoyance from the way his words came out as controlled, restrained. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Yeji and I are just friends.”

You folded your arms, shaking your head vehemently. Your lips were pressed into a thin line as you stewed in your anger and frustration. You shot him a dark glare that was both icy yet full of disappointment as you said softly, “You clearly don’t care for my feelings. You can’t tell me you don’t notice her feelings for you.”

“Y/n-”

“Even Juyeon agrees with me!” You blurted out and at that, he finally turned to look at you, his eyes wide with shock but they quickly narrowed. You could feel a chill run down your spine, the way it always did when you’d seen him angry. But this time it was different, because it was the first time it was directed at you.

“You talked to Juyeon about our relationship? How much have you told him?”

“He’s our friend…”

“Why would you do that?” He asked, hurt at the revelation. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of the two of you talking about your relationship. In a way, a part of him didn’t feel at ease with it. “You couldn’t come talk things out with me?”

“It’s because you’d never listen! I’ve given so many hints, told you so many times that Yeji likes you and is trying to wrap you around her finger! So many times, Kevin. But did you listen? No, you didn’t,” your words came out breathless and you could see that his expression had turned sullen but you pressed on. “You clearly don’t care much for our relationship, or my feelings. Who else could I turn to?”

There was a silence for a moment, thick, tensed silence, save for the rainstorm outside.

“You,” he said finally, “You are blowing things way out of proportion.”

“Me? Blowing things out of proportion?” You stared at him.

“Yeah. Do you not trust me? I’ve told you. Time and time again. Yeji and I are friends, for fuck’s sake and stop overreacting.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he immediately regretted them. Kevin turned to you and his heart absolutely crumpled at the stricken expression on your face, the way your eyes held such sadness. He’d never swore at you ever and now in the heat of the moment, he’d gone and done it. You were frozen in your seat and as he reached out to touch you, you recoiled instantly like his touch burned through your clothes and seared your skin.

“Y/n, please… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t touch me.” You spat out the words as angry tears began to roll down your cheeks. Kevin could feel his pulse accelerating and his nerves were beginning to overwhelm him. He’d never seen you like this and it broke his heart. Knowing he was the cause of it, made things even worse.

“Please, y/n. Please, I-”

He didn’t manage to finish his sentence because the next thing he knew, the car was flying through the air and if it wasn’t for the seatbelt, he’d have flown off his seat. He could hear screaming and realised to his horror it was yours as the most excruciating pain imaginable shot through his body and before he knew it, his world turned black, uncertain.

The wedding processional music was beginning to play as the guests watched the groom take his place on the altar.

It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining bright above where the skies were dotted with several puffy clouds. The flowers were in full bloom today, their sweet fragrance hanging in the spring breeze and everyone was dressed to impress for this special occasion. The decoration of white tulle and elaborate floral setups were eye-catching in a subtle way that gave the place an almost ethereal vibe which Kevin and Bella could hear the rest of the guests whispering in hushed, awed tones about.

Kevin could feel Bella’s eyes on him as he took his seat, holding his hands together to keep from shaking. Now that he was here, every fibre of his being wanted to leave, wanted so desperately to leave but he forced himself to stay behind. The place was beautiful no doubt, but the knowledge that this was all Juyeon’s work and the thought of the both of you making such plans and arrangements together in your shared apartment. His artistic style was elegant, poised and everything here radiated a similar vibe, so much so that Kevin almost felt a little suffocated.

There he was, at the altar, proud and excitable. Juyeon had on his wide grin that Kevin had grown to be almost weary of. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he’d not felt this way when he saw that smile. His hair was styled expertly and the tuxedo he wore fit him extremely well and even from here, Kevin found his friend dashing but when the bride entered the premises, he found the wind knocked right out of him.

You were stunning, gorgeous… beautiful. Your dress clung to your curves, not obscenely but elegantly, gracefully. It had a lace bodice and in the fabric, there were tiny crystals embedded in and sewed into place by thin micro strands of white gold. It had a pretty cutting, one-shoulder which fitted you perfectly. The white velvet train trailed behind you, rustling the red rose petals strewn along the way. Your makeup was minimal but it gave you a glowing look which made Kevin’s heart skip and though you were wearing a veil, your beauty simply shone through.

He watched as you made your way over to Juyeon and felt Bella’s hands on his. He didn’t even notice he’d been pressing his fingernails into his palm, almost hard enough to break skin. You walked, no, glided down the aisle and watching you was like watching beauty and grace. Beauty and grace that will never, ever be his but the man at the altar.

Kevin’s heart ached so badly he thought he might pass out from the pain, the cracks already there growing deeper with each step you took closer to Juyeon and away from him. Every fibre in his being wanted so desperately to call your name, to be the one standing at the altar. He couldn’t tell you how many times he’d imagined this in head, in his dreams only to wake up to reality, a reality without you in his life. He longed to see you smile for him again, to feel your arms around him again. Tears were running down some of the guests’ faces, tears of joy but as the first tear escaped and rolled down his cheeks, he realised it was tears of sorrow and pain.

As you muttered the words ‘I do’, Kevin felt his heart shatter once and for all into a million little pieces, irreparable and unsalvageable.

The atmosphere in the emergency room was chaotic as doctors and nurses sped down hallways, barking orders into their beepers while they wheel patients into operating rooms. Anxious family members pace around the reception area, some of them crying and shaking out of fear and worry.

Kevin could barely move his body, the thick bandages making movement difficult and strenuous. With even the slightest shift, a sharp pain would shoot up his spine and send him reeling. He was in the most physical pain he’d ever been in but there was still something in his mind.

You.

He had been beside himself with worry ever since he’d awakened after his surgery and had no news of you. Being so heavily bandaged up and in so much pain he had needed doses after doses of morphine, it was impossible for him to even get up and try to find you. He couldn’t even make a few metres without needing to be back in bed.

It wasn’t until a week later did he find out from Bella and Juyeon that you’d been transferred to a different hospital for your injuries. She had kept it from him for fear of worrying him so it wasn’t as if Kevin could get mad either. It was important that you got the medical attention you needed and the knowledge that this had happened with him on the wheel, bothered and guilted him to no end. The guilt ate at his heart and everyday, he’d asked the doctors if he’d be able to be discharged only to get disappointed when they’d shake their heads time and time again.

“Juyeon.” He called out weakly one night when the latter had picked up his coat and was about to leave. Bella had gone to the restroom so it had only been the two of them in the ward. The dark-haired male turned to look at him, leaning into his bed, concern etched in his features.

“Yeah? What is it, Kev?”

“Take care of y/n for me.” He asked, eyes pleading even as he remained immobile. There was a flash of something indescribable behind those dark eyes of Juyeon’s as he made his request and there was a certain tightness in his voice as he whispered, “Yeah… Sure.”

Maybe he had been too high off the morphine then to recognise it but now that he knew better, Kevin knew that that was the voice of a man who had something to hide.

After the wedding ceremony, Kevin had retreated to the back of the garden where he sat behind a fountain. He could hear the chattering from afar, muffled and distant, like in a different world altogether. The sun was beating down on the ground and the smell of flowers hung sweetly in the air as he drew out a cloud of smoke from his cigarette, feeling the nicotine run through his blood and soothing his nerves. Never would he have thought that he’d ever pick up smoking, something he had previously frowned upon yet now, he couldn’t see why he’d ever thought that way.

When alcohol or work couldn’t do its magic of taking his mind off reality, cigarettes always did the trick. It slowed his heartbeat, calmed his nerves and made him feel light on his feet even as his heart felt heavy, so very heavy that he’d felt weighed down by it. The top buttons of his dress shirt was undone and the ends of his shirt untucked while his hair was ruffled - making him look beyond unpresentable but he couldn’t care less. Somehow, the will to upkeep himself had died along the way.

As he took another puff, he relished the way it allowed him to ignore the emptiness in his chest. After the pain, came the dark, hollow emptiness. Emptiness that nothing could fill up. It was as if something had switched off inside him the moment he’d seen you and Juyeon exchange a kiss and before Bella could talk to him, he’d made his leave.

He stared at the grass beneath his feet, laughing to himself. Just how pathetic did he look right now?

“Kevin?”

At the sound of your voice, he snapped his head up and had to take a deep breath at the sight of you. Up close, you were prettier than you were on the aisle if that was even possible. Your hair framed your beautiful face and the gown you wore made you seem almost like royalty, untouchable. Yet, there was a voice at the back of his voice that whispered, “It’s not for you.”

He forced a smile. “Yeah? How can I help you y/n?”

“We’re serving cake now, would you like to come with?”

Kevin tried to ignore the stab of pain and hurt in him at the tone of your voice. It was polite, kind but distant, like you were talking to someone you didn’t know very well which might seem to be the case in your perspective but it was so different from that in his. So, so different. Did you really not remember all those times and precious memories that you’d shared? He wanted to shake you, just hold you and look you in the eye and ask all those questions that were stuck at the back of his throat all these months. But he held back.

“Sure.”

As the two of you made your way back to the yard where everyone was mingling, Kevin trailed behind you, watching your dress slide over the soft grass. How easy would it be to just declare his feelings for you right here? It would take little to no effort to hold onto your wrist, pull you into him and tell you everything he’d ever felt about you but he couldn’t. Not when you were already somebody else’s lover. It was too little, too late.

“Juyeon!” You called out happily and as the groom turned, the smile on his face wavered when he made eye contact with Kevin. Kevin held his gaze steadily, his eyes emotionless as he made his way over.

“Hey, Kevin.” He said simply, a small smile on his face and if this was a few months ago, Kevin would have given into his urge to scratch that smile right off his face but right now, all he felt was fatigue.

“Hey.”

“We have like 5 different flavours here, would you like me to get you a bite of each?” You asked Kevin and he merely nodded. As you wandered away, there was a moment of silence between the two men as Juyeon shuffled his feet.

“Kevin-”

“I can’t talk to you right now.” He said coldly.

“Then why did you come?” The other man asked, a hint of aggression in his voice. Clearly, the man used to winning didn’t like to be talked down to, even after he’d gotten everything. Even his former best friend’s lover.

“You invited me.”

“Yeah but I thought you had a girlfriend. I thought we were cool.” The expression was one of indignance which Kevin wanted to laugh at both out of disbelief and anger.

“Soodam is overseas for work, plus I’m not here for you,” he turned to you over at the dessert table, laughing at something a friend of yours was saying, your melodious laugh ringing through the afternoon and sending a warm feeling in his empty heart, “I just want to see y/n happy.”

Juyeon’s lips were pressed into a thin line as he stared at Kevin.

“Look, if you’re thinking of-.”

“Of winning y/n back?” Kevin shot him an icy look, his voice dripping with venom. “Believe me. I want to. I dream of it every night but after all she’s been through… I can’t do that to her.”

“W-What do you mean?” Juyeon’s voice was a mere whisper.

“I see how happy she is. I know she’s happy with you and as much as that hurts me, her happiness matters more to me than my love for her. If it wasn’t for me… She wouldn’t have lost her memory and wouldn’t have spent months in a hospital in pain, fighting for her life. I couldn’t even be there for her during those hard times but you were. ”

Juyeon swallowed, “Kevin…”

Kevin ignored his words before continuing, “I don’t know what sort of stories you told her, what lies you fabricated but just promise me one thing,” he turned to Juyeon, “Promise me you won’t break her heart or tell her the truth, ever. She’s gone through enough. It fucking kills me to know the woman I love will never be mine but it hurts even more if I see her broken from the truth. If I ever see so much as a tear from her shed because of you, you are fucking done.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left, his cigarette abandoned on the grass as he felt a part of him, the one who’d loved you so deeply, the one that made it possible for him to be capable to love anyone, disappear from his heart forever.

You watched from afar as Kevin turned and left, leaving Juyeon staring after him. There was a stricken look in your husband’s eyes yet for some reason, your eyes were drawn to Kevin’s retreating silhouette. From where you stood, there was something eerily familiar about that gait all of a sudden.

Instantly, you could feel your heart beginning to pick up its pace and a searing pain suddenly ripped across your temple, making you wince and almost drop the plate of cake you had in your hands. The pain was terrible, head splitting and you almost felt lightheaded as you dropped the plate onto the table, holding onto your head.

As you closed your eyes, an image of a pair of hands that you didn’t recognise as Juyeon’s over your own, fingers lacing with yours. Things were flashing past your mind like parts of disrupted, damaged film. A soft voice, a voice so unlike the coarse sound of Juyeon’s at the back of your ear, humming Yiruma’s ‘River Flows In You’, your favourite classical piece. An unknown person placing his palm on your hands as you lay bedridden in hospital, kissing your hand. Was it Juyeon?

A rainy evening in a car. Someone’s hands gripping so tightly onto the steering wheel that their knuckles had turned white. A scream of your name.

When you opened your eyes, a lady friend of yours was holding onto you, her expression worried as she asked if you were okay. As you waved her concern away with a smile, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness penetrate through your heart. A sudden sinking feeling of regret, heartbreak and grief came in a large wave that washed over your heart and without you even knowing, you felt a tear drop from your eyes and onto your finger, on your wedding ring.

You stared at the diamond ring on your ring finger then at Kevin’s disappearing form.

What is this feeling?

[mooniefics]

in the grand scheme of things [ 3 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 5.5k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warning : descriptions of alcohol and drug use

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 28 / 21 on ao3 —

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:  *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*

sasha  3:47 pm hey u down to party tonight?? jean told connie he could get us into another one of the azo parties again

you sighed at the sight of the notifications on your phone from its place on the passenger's seat, pensively drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. the most recent party of the most popular fraternity chapter on your campus you'd attended had been the last party you'd subjected yourself to attending—the halloween party where you'd gotten ditched out and subsequently cheated on. though you could admit that it had been fun in the moment, especially when you had caught the struggle between sasha and historia when she saw your roommate snap a picture of her kissing the standoffish sophomore that always helped her with her english lit homework, ymir, rather than the fraternity guy she was meant to be with.

the memory of that night, at least the time before you'd realized your boyfriend and his annoyingly attractive best friend were nowhere to be found, made you consider. classes did start back up next week, and the most eventful thing you'd done over the break was your quaint little family get-together for new year's eve—and your two rendezvous with zeke, meetings that you were slowly beginning to feel more and more skeptical about as time went on—and you were sure that your second semester would drown you in work just as much—if not more—than you'd had in your first semester. so as soon as you came to a stop at a red light, you picked your phone up to shoot her back a message, laughing to yourself when she replied instantly.

               you  3:51 pm party on a wednesday?                            really?

sasha   3:51 pm come onnnn please??? i heard nikos gonna be there! ur rlly gonna make me go all alone??

so that was why she wanted to go, to see the foreign culinary major that somehow always managed to send her back to the dorm with a large plate of food and a blinding smile plastered on her face for at least the next hour. you were honestly surprised that they hadn't gotten together yet, considering how many common interests they'd shared.

a pleasant thought suddenly popped into your head, the thought that she was probably asking you because mikasa had already declined, meaning that she wouldn't be in attendance. armin was out in turkey with eren, ensuring his absence. that fact made you feel a bit less anxious about accepting sasha's invitation. you could catch up with the friends you'd been unable to see while you were off-campus—or too swamped with work to be able to reach out to—let loose one last time before you were trapped back in the monotonous cycle of working, sleeping, crying, and eating for the next couple months until spring break. your mind had been made up.

                          you  3:52 pm    fine. i'll go as moral support. but no promises u won't have  to babysit after you've had ur                          fun with nikolo  this break has been rough for                                       me lol

sasha  3:53 pm oh god my i loveyou so much already picking out our outfits

you chuckled to yourself, slipping your phone into the cupholder as the brake lights of the car in front of you flashed off and you eased your foot onto the gas. you made it back to the dorm relatively quickly, sasha more than elated to see you even though you didn't have any food to bring back for her. and just as her text message had read, she'd already laid out one of your nicer dresses and a set of heels that didn't absolutely kill your feet by the end of the night by your bed, digging through the closet with a pile of discarded clothes growing on the floor.

"thanks sash," you giggled, "but don't you think it's a little to be getting ready? what time's the party?"

"connie told me seven-thirty, but jean said for us to come an hour later so we aren't the only ones there." she spoke over her shoulder, huffing as she tossed another piece of clothing aside, "but i wanna look good! i'm gonna hop in the shower as soon as i find the right thing to wear."

holding out your dress before you, you frowned. it was simple, black and made of a sheer, clingy material with lace accents decorating the low neckline, thin straps that bared the entirety of your shoulders and a modest amount of cleavage. it was one of your favorites, but the half-healed bruises scattered across the skin that would be exposed by it wasn't ideal.

"oh, don't forget to take a cheap coat that you don't mind forgetting. it's kinda chilly out, and i always end up losing track of mine during the night."

you let out a breath of relief, remembering that covering up a bit more would be weather appropriate. "yeah, i'll wear a long-sleeved undershirt and something light on top." perfect.

you waited until sasha had gathered her toiletries and scurried off to the nearest bathroom to change clothes, feeling your face heat up at the thought of zeke, the initial deep pigmentation having faded out over the last two days but still a very visible shade of faint red. you were fully dressed upon your roommate's return, earning an excited slew of compliments from her as she wrapped up her hair in a towel and settled down beside you to get started on her makeup.

you were actually grateful for how early she'd insisted on getting ready considering how long she'd agonized over her eyeliner, or how many times she'd applied and removed her lashes, complaining that "something was off" or "it just didn't look right". your suggested time of arrival came in no time at all, and by then sasha was more than eager to start rushing you despite the pace she'd been moving at earlier.

"hurry!! if niko brings food, i don't wanna get there by the time it's all gone!" she whined, jiggling the doorknob to your room impatiently, "for the thanksgiving party, he brought a charcuterie board with all these nice cheeses on it and it was so good, he looked so happy watching me eat it, it was so cute!"

you chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, shoving the last of your things into your clutch, zipping up your phone in the small inner pocket to insure that you didn't drop it and forget on the floor of someone's house this time. "i'm sure that even if we got there late, he'd set aside plenty of food for you."

the walk to the fraternity's designated house was made much shorter by sasha's insistence, practically dragging you along by the wrist the whole way at a near jog. you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, knowing that you would have sasha, connie, and jean at the very least, but unaware as to what you would really do besides mill around. at the halloween party, you'd been able to play the variety of drinking games that had been set out for the guests with eren and his friends, but now you weren't entirely sure who to stick to for the majority of the night.

you didn't want to bother jean or connie after they'd gotten secured you an invite, and you were sure that sasha was expecting to be able to spend some time alone with the guy she'd came to see in the first place, meaning you'd have to spend a majority of the night alone, or the unfavorable option of mingling with unfamiliar people. but you realized that was a pill you'd have to swallow as you approached the steps of the house, nearly tripping up over your feet from the speed that sasha was hauling you along at, watching her furiously knock at the door.

there were people wandering about in the yard, some on their phones, most likely waiting for their own friends to arrive, and a smoky stench of something that definitely wasn't just tobacco wafting from the group of men camped out on the porch murmuring amongst each other. you could hear the volume of the music inside the house, almost able to feel it thrumming across the floor if you focused enough.

"thomas!" she exclaimed at the sight of a younger-looking blonde boy when the door opened, whose existence you honestly had no idea about until just now, grinning so broadly it made your own cheeks hurt for her, "jean invited us!"

"oh, come right in." he beamed right back, calling loudly over his shoulder, "yo, jean, your friends are here!"

the inside of the house looked just as you expected, already crowded to max capacity, jean having to maneuver past the throng of people gathered near the front to approach the two of you. "damn, i feel like i haven't seen you in forever." he did his best to speak over the music, wrapping you up in a friendly squeeze, "glad to see you could finally make it." he turned to sasha. "niko's already in the kitchen, by the way. asked when you were coming just a few minutes ago."

sasha's face lit up with glee, turning to you, silently asking for permission to go off on her own as if you could ever deny her and her overly-eager expression. "go get 'em, tiger." you smiled, giving her a few pats on her shoulder to send her off on her way, watching her disappear into the crowd in record time.

but before apprehension of her absence could set in, you felt jean's arm sling around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "c'mon, you didn't think i was gonna ditch out and let you hang alone all night?" you giggled, turning your head up to look at him properly for the first time.

you'd first met jean in your statistics class, an unfortunate requirement for your major of choice, and initially bonded over your mutual connection through sasha. they'd been good friends in high school, and you'd just moved into a room for at least the next year with her, so you figured it'd do you well to have someone who could get you in her good graces in the event that you two didn't get along. but, thankfully, you two were just fine on your own, and sasha and jean became your first friends outside of the small group you and eren shared.

the only real conflict of interest between the two of you seemed to be your aforementioned boyfriend, and you couldn't really be upset at him for that. eren could be difficult to get along with even at the best of times, he wasn't a terrible person—at least before he'd cheated—but he wasn't exactly the most friendly either.

"is this piercing new?" you asked, reaching up to brush your thumb over the small earring hugging the shell of jean's ear.

"yeah, got it for new year's. pretty hot, right?" you snorted, earning a grin from him, "by the way, if you need to use the bathroom just tell me, the one on the main floor is fucking filthy. and also probably has no toilet paper."

"will do." you could feel the tension ebbing away in his company, at least when you ignored the annoyed glances other girls were sending your way when they noticed his arm around you, "so, what's on the menu for tonight?"

"well, we probably have every kind of alcohol known to man," he said, leaning down to speak into your ear as he began to guide you through the crowded first floor, "beer kegs are out back, junk food and all the inexpensive shit is in the kitchen." he stopped at the opening to a hallway, smile evident in his voice. "but i'm feeling pretty generous tonight, so if you want some of the good stuff we have stashed, just say the word."

"wow, such a gentleman. do you say that to every girl that comes in?" you playfully replied, thankfully far enough away from the music now that you didn't have to talk at nearly a shout.

"only the ones i like." he added a terribly over-exaggerated wink, earning another small laugh from you, "so, what'll it be? vodka, tequila, or triple sec?"

you blinked up at him. "that's it? when you said 'good stuff', i imagined a little more variety."

"beggars can't be choosers, sweetheart. and anyways we're a frat, not a restaurant, so either take your pick or go enjoy some cheap wine while you watch nikolo and sasha drool over each other."

you rolled your eyes, feigning anger in the face of his attitude, huffing out your answer. "surprise me then, frat boy."

"good answer." he said with a grin, "wait here."

he disappeared down the hall, leaving you to stare in silence at the wall before you and listen to the barely muffled sounds of the party going on just a few meters away. you opened up your clutch to fish out your phone, opening it to find your text conversation still open, catching a glimpse of connie's name. you felt a little guilty that you'd almost forgotten about his expected presence, seeing as he had messaged you and you hadn't heard anything from sasha or jean yet. you decided to shoot him a quick text letting him know that you and sasha had arrived, not surprised when he didn't respond as quickly as he usually did, knowing that he was already wrapped up in getting high out of his mind somewhere here or doing so elsewhere.

you opted to kill time tapping through your feed, making it a point to quickly scroll past any posts with armin's handle attached to them. the thought of eren having fun halfway across the world was both pleasant and disheartening at the same time. you felt stupid for still clinging on to the second thoughts about ending things the second he got back. sure, all the dots connected suspiciously well to create a picture that led to the clear conclusion of cheating, but eren wasn't good at hiding things. you remembered the time in your junior year when he'd barely been able to keep your surprise party that your friends had organized you a secret before one of them slipped up about it and exonerated him from blame, and you couldn't help but ask yourself if he was really capable of hiding such a terrible deed when he couldn't even conceal the harmless types of secrets from you.

the more confrontational part of you said that that was ages ago, that both you and him had changed so much since your time in high school, and maybe one of those changes was what made him put so much distance between the two of you these last months rather than hang around you and risk airing out his dirty laundry. you knew you should be angry with him, you would be more than right to be angry with him, but you force yourself to stop clinging to the simpler times, the days when he'd look at you like you'd put the stars in the sky and said all he ever wanted to do was be around you. you couldn't believe how much had changed in so little time.

"ta-da!" jean's voice interrupted your self-pity, a tall plastic cup suddenly occupying your vision, "long island iced tea for the lady. with a straw."

"christ, jean, are you trying to kill me?" you guffawed, taking the cup from him anyways, "my first real party in months and this is what you start me off with?"

"at least give it a try! after i took all that time to make it for you.." he furrowed his brows at you, only relaxing after you took a tentative sip. it was surprisingly not as strong as you thought it would be, a little on the sweeter side, but it served as a good distraction for the burn of five different alcohols sliding down your throat. "pretty good, isn't it?"

"meh. five out of ten." you snarked, giggling around the straw between your lips.

"typical," he lamented, clutching his hands over his heart, "all you and sasha ever do is use me."

"don't lie to yourself, jean. you love us."

you didn't know if it was the dim lighting casting a shadow over his face, but you could swear that you saw his cheeks flush at your assertion. "anyways.. speaking of love, you still dating that asshole? eric?"

"eren." you corrected, laughing at the error, "and, well, it's complicated."

"complicated? then i'm assuming he fucked up big time, considering he's not even here with you this time around."

you took a long sip of your drink, fiddling with the bendy part of your straw, the thought of his infidelity weighing heavily on your heart. "well he'd probably be here if he wasn't out of town, he's been planning to take his trip for a while now.."

jean shot you a displeased look. "i seriously don't know how you put up with that guy, you're selling yourself short honestly. planning on breaking up with him anytime soon?"

you cast your gaze to the floor, thankful that the warmth of the alcohol in your stomach was helping to ease the cool hollowness settling deep into your chest. "oh hush. you don't even know the whole story, jean."

"well i know enough. if you're in the market for any new guys, i'll scout out someone nice for you." you scoffed at his offer, but didn't outright deny it either, unable to help smiling along with him when he smirked and nodded over to the party in the other room, "now, come play me in beer pong, then you'll really have something to complain about."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke could confidently say that his night had been utterly unremarkable.

another quiet day spent working at the library, where he'd actually glanced at the door more times than he was willing to admit with the hope that it would be you walking in. he'd actually been quite tempted to message you, to ask what you were doing, if you had anywhere between two and three so that maybe he could see you, but he'd ultimately decided against it. he couldn't quite figure out the exact cause of his newly-found infatuation with you, but the rationality of it didn't concern him as much as it probably should've, he was simply pleased to relive the very recent memories of your encounters together and anticipate your next meeting—at least until his younger brother returned.

eren had attempted to goad a reaction out of him with an assortment of unsavory texts calling him just about every name in the book, a constant stream of questions asking why he did it, or what he'd done to deserve such a thing, and even a few desperate pleas begging him to say that it wasn't really you. of course, he'd ignored all of them, and he wondered if eren was trying to contact you as well, knowing that you wouldn't be able to see the messages even if that was the case, though still curious nonetheless.

but for the moment, he was lounging at his usual downtown bar, seated in a booth beside reiner and across from porco at their rescheduled night out, since both marcel and porco were unable to make it yesterday, the latter sulking after his noisy attempt to flag down the waitress ended in failure.

"is marcel actually gonna make it tonight?" reiner asked, plucking a stick of celery from the appetizer platter in the middle of the table.

"no clue." porco replied, sipping his mojito, "said he got caught up at work again, so either the let down text is gonna come any minute now, or he's gonna show up for an hour and then disappear."

zeke chuckled. "post-marriage life sure is tough, i guess."

"you can say that again. he's always calling me, freaking about the idea of kids and his mortgage and stuff that i didn't even think about until he complained about it, scary shit."

"you say that like you're not two years away from being his age."

porco began what was sure to be one of his smart-ass replies, but the waitress had finally approached their booth, hiding her annoyance with his friend with a forced smile as she took the orders for their entrées. zeke pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans when he felt it buzz, feeling the slightest hint of disappointment by the fact that it wasn't you.

"who is it? your new girlfriend?" reiner grumbled, smirking when porco shot up in his seat.

"girlfriend?!" he exclaimed far too loudly.

"yup. zeke didn't tell you he's dating a high-schooler?"

so much for "your business", zeke thought to himself. "oh, fuck off. she's in college." he frowned at his roommate, only met with another tired expression of disappointment.

"just barely." reiner turned back to the man across the table, "it's one of his brother's ex-girlfriends too."

porco stared at him incredulously, eyes wide and judgmental, falling back against the cushion of the seat with a low whistle. "shit zeke.. that's kinda fucked up, don't you think?" he seemed uncomfortable by the unexpected revelation, "you're almost thirty and you're screwing around with someone who's probably not even twenty? is this an afraid-of-getting-old thing? mid-life crisis??"

"she's an adult, she can make her own choices." zeke didn't appreciate the sudden scrutiny, finishing off his old fashioned in the hopes that the bourbon would wash away the self-conscious feeling settling unpleasantly in his gut, "not my fault that her choice happens to be wanting to be around me rather than the guys her age."

"what ever happened to you and pieck? she's hot—"

"and actually over the legal drinking age."

both porco and zeke pointedly ignored reiner's interaction as the former continued. "—i thought it was working out between you two.. what happened?"

zeke shrugged. "just wasn't the right fit for me. but you liked her, didn't you? before we had our thing." he looked up at his friend, forcing a casual grin, "maybe you could give that shot now."

he felt a bit more at ease seeing porco's ears and cheeks flush red, now fiddling with the lime garnish on the rim of his glass. "we still talk here and there.. i don't really know much about what she's up to these days."

before he could answer with more words of encouragement that detracted from the previous, morally-incriminating topic, his phone began to vibrate, and he felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of your name on the screen. "sorry, gotta take this."

he tugged on his jacket and slid out of the booth, ignoring reiner's chastising glance and porco's bewildered look, passing the waitress who was now carrying a platter with their food and refills on his way out. the cool night breeze was refreshing in comparison to the awkward, almost cramped atmosphere that had developed over their discussion, his breath coming is foggy puffs in the chilled, january air as he pressed the answer button. immediately upon raising the phone to his ear, he was met with a blurred assortment of background noise, able to discern the muffled sound of music and the sound of footsteps outside of whatever room you were in.

"hello?"

"oh, zeke, you answered!!" he could hear in your voice that you were clearly intoxicated, much more than you had been when you were at his house, words stringing together and ending syllables unnecessarily drawn out.

he felt uncharacteristically worried at the realization that you were at a party, one that sounded quite large and crowded, most likely crawling with unsavory individuals that he knew prowled around those sorts of events when he himself was in college. "are you alright? where are you right now? do you need me to pick you up?"

zeke was already digging around in his coat pocket to check if he had his keys, more than prepared to take off without his meal or saying goodbye to his friends inside. "'m at a party on campus, 's okay. in the bathroom. just thinking."

zeke didn't feel eased at all at the sound of loud knocking coming from somewhere, hearing you becoming distant for a moment as you presumably pulled the phone away from your ear to call out that the bathroom was occupied. there was shuffling on the other line, then silence for a short moment. "can i ask you something?"

zeke frowned. the idea of not being able to know who was monitoring you in this state wasn't sitting well with him. "go ahead."

"but don't call me stupid, ok? i already know it's a stupid question, but i still wanna ask it."

"there's no such thing as stupid questions." he assured you, ignoring the buzz of a text notification, most likely porco or reiner telling him to come back in before the burger he ordered got cold.

"do i really have to break up with eren?"

zeke felt something odd flicker in his chest, that unfamiliar feeling he'd felt when he caught you staring at you and his brother's one-sided chat logs, but yet the affirmative answer he thought he would be able to give with no problem sat on the tip of his tongue, undelivered. he thought back to that face reiner had made when he told him who you were, and porco's hesitant words trying to rationalize his actions but ultimately failing to do so.

zeke didn't understand why he felt so conflicted all of a sudden. this was meant to be a simple ordeal, one where he got what he needed to teach eren a lesson and moved on with his life. but now here he was, concerned about your whereabouts, focusing hard enough on your muddled words that he managed to catch the wobble in your voice that betrayed your own state of emotional unrest. he realized a moment too late that he hadn't said anything, hearing a small sniffle on your end before we began speaking.

"god, i can't believe i said that out loud, you must really think i'm dumb r'now, but.. i just can't let go of what we had." he was sure that you were crying now. "i keep thinking about what you said, an' you're right. he's been an ass to me, he practically ignored me for, like, three months, probably fuckin' cheated on me with his hot best friend, so i can't understand why i just wanna keep trying to fix things... and its so confusing 'cause everyone just keeps telling me to enjoy myself an' have fun, but i have no idea what i even want anymore, and i don't even know what we are right now and i can't fuckin' believe i cheated on my boyfriend with his fuckin' older brother and i don't know what i'd ever do if he found out."

by the end of it, you were letting out small, hiccuped sobs, breath fast and uneven just as it had been the night he'd invited you over. he honestly didn't know what to say, listening to you cry, staring at the steam of his breath as it dissipated out into the night. you were a good person, someone who was undeserving of such treatment from either him or eren, but it was simply an unfortunate coincidence that you had been caught in the fray.

he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts, preparing to deliver an affirmation similar to the one he'd given you a few days ago when you first laid all your relationship troubles out on the table, but there was a rapid, more insistent knocking at the bathroom door on your end. he could hear a female voice calling out your name, and the jiggling of the door knob.

"hold on," you paused, sniffling, "it's my roommate."

you steadied yourself enough to say that, tossing the phone somewhere before he heard the sound of the door unlocking. "there you are!! are you seriously wasted already? it's only, like, eleven?! why are you crying???" your roommate sounded tipsy, but nowhere near as intoxicated as you currently were, which eased zeke's initial worry, "jean! can you c'mere for a sec! wait, were you calling someone?"

there was a brief pause, and zeke could practically see your tiny nod and teary eyes in his head, then heels clicking over tile and the sound of the phone being lifted, followed by a hurried, "hey, this is her roommate! she's fine, gotta go!"

then silence, just him and the faint noise coming from inside the bar behind him. he didn't know what to think. from the sounds of it, it seemed like your friends were taking care of you for the time being, friends who names he vaguely remembered you speaking of when you'd been detailing your time at the halloween party—people that were unfamiliar to him, people he wasn't sure that he could trust. and a small part of him, a tiny voice at the back of his head, scoffed at his flimsy mask of worry that barely hid the true emotion, his possessive nature, driving his desire to go pick you up and bring you back to the apartment to take care of so you'd have to be there with him another morning with your thankful gazes and blunt, half-awake words.

he knew he was in no place to begin laying judgement at these unknown people in your life considering what he'd done, but it was an innate sort of feeling, the thought that always clouded his mind when he laid eyes on people that were younger than him, that he knew more than them, that somehow he would always be above them in an invisible hierarchy. that same feeling that he felt when he found himself looking down at you.

"zeke?" a warm, friendly voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes turning up from the ground to find a tired-looking marcel standing before him, "what are you doing out here by yourself?"

"smoke break." the lie slipped between his lips before he even thought of the fact that there was no cigarette between his fingers, no scent of smoke in the air or clinging to his clothes, "glad you could make it, everyone's inside. pretty sure porco already ordered you something."

but instead of immediately heading inside for zeke to come after him, marcel stood for a moment, lips drawing back and eyebrows knitting into a concerned expression. "is everything okay?"

zeke thought for a moment, giving a non-committal shrug in response.

"still having family troubles?"

despite having been quite fixated on his negative feelings revolving his own younger brother for the last few days, zeke had almost pushed out a majority of the sordid details of the entire situation out of his head, which now seemed to all flood back with such a short, simple question.

"you could say that." zeke scratched the back of his neck, now wishing he'd actually had a cigarette to take his mind off of all these turbulent thoughts, "all the arguing and shit subsided already, but..."

"anything from your dad?" marcel's voice was almost tentative asking that, frowning when zeke said nothing, "sorry.. didn't mean to be insensitive about it."

"it's not insensitive. just," he swallowed, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching out to push open the bar door, a silent, less embarrassing way to signal that he no longer wanted to talk about it anymore, "just kind of fresh. that's all."

they both stood in silence for a moment, marcel's eyes wandering his face, features expressing a clear concern, but thankfully, he didn't push the issue any further, simply following him inside like zeke wished he would've done minutes earlier to save him the trouble, proceeding to the booth housing their friends. the conversation didn't wander back to the topic of him and his morally dubious relations nor his current familial situation, much to his relief, making it much easier for him to just allow the conversation to flow around him, finding himself not having much of an appetite or desire to speak much with so much on his mind.

for a moment, zeke wondered to himself if this was a punishment from the universe, feeling so downtrodden on what was usually one of his more enjoyable nights in the week. not to say that they were always amazing to be around, but spending time with porco, reiner, marcel, and sometimes bertholdt made up most of the meaningful social interactions he had, and to have lost out on it today of all days just seemed like some odd form of karmic justice as a result of him behaving so selfishly.

but he held out for the rest of the evening anyways, going through more drinks that he probably should've, finding easier to tune in to porco and reiner's usual bickering, marcel's attempts to quell them, the ambient sound of bustling waiters and clinking glasses and plates to bury down any thought of you or his family or what was to come at the end of the week, the consequences with much more magnitude in his life than an just an unpleasant night out.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:  *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*

previous chapter⥽

[kalinawtokilig]

180 Turn to You

{Bokuto Koutarou x genderneutral! Reader} 

((Do you guys even need the guide?))

Guide : 

(Y/N) = Your Name 

(C/N) = Crush’s name 

((bruh,, do you really need ya crush??? That bih broke ya heart,,, now ya reading anime men,, honestly same)) 

(((((is this how I write him????? Did I do it right???? I’m not sure how to tag this ending, I’m writing at the top of my head))))) 

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

It was no surprise to see you at the gymnasium again, the Fukurodani volleyball team were used to seeing you come in. You were always the plug, bringing snacks during their break and sometimes even energy drinks. The managers were always thankful of you dropping in from time to time, cause not only do you help them give out the towels and help refill the bottles, but you somehow held their precious and hyperactive ace on a leash. Besides Akaashi, who had seemed to have a lightbulb go off when Bokuto responded positively and listened to you when things are not going his way, Akaashi threw a meaningful nod, a silent ‘Thank you for being alive to help me with the emotional owl’. 

Which you responded, an ‘ok’ gesture, a signal to reply to him, ‘I gotchu bruh’. 

But this visit was different. Instead of approaching with your mellow and calm vibes, you appeared with red-rimmed, puffy eyes, glossed with already shed tears and eyes looking heartbroken.  You tried your best biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from crying, and you did, as no one even noticed, not looking anyone in the eye for more than five seconds before turning elsewhere to give out the last water bottle. 

Like anyone else, Akaashi was known to be observant and perspective, seeing other peoples tells and what they results are. He was good at that. He was also known for being a good friend and wingman. Contrary to belief, Bokuto had noticed your change in demeanor, shoulders slumped a bit and the forced smile he always love seeing on your cute face hadn’t reached the corners of your eyes. 

“Akaashi,” The dark-haired male looked to his captain, the ends of his excited hair drooping a bit, “Doesn’t (Y/N) seem...weird?"

Akaashi wiped the sweat from the corner of his brow with the towel you’ve given to him, as he drank his water bottle, his eyes glanced to your figure, standing by the doors of the gym, you were kicking off something off your shoe and every time you let out a deep exhale, you begin to wipe your face with the end of your sleeve. Placing down the water bottle, he sat down on the bench and turned to his dear friend, “Bokuto-san, weird is a rude way to put it. Odd, yes. Weird, no. (Y/N) seems different today because maybe something happened, like they didn’t pass a test or they got into an argument with a friend.” 

Bokuto drilled his eyes onto you, not like you noticed, you were too busy checking your phone, seeing if (C/N) texted you, expecting a better response to how they rejected you so curtly today. Yet, nothing. Well, nothing apologetic, as (C/N) continued to text you as if you didn’t pour your heart into confessing to them as they laughed at your face and denied your attraction towards them. You bit your lip, fingers gripping the phone as you shoved it into your pocket, hands balled into fists as you felt the utter annoyance and humiliation from how naive you thought you are, thinking that they’ll like you back. 

As you waited for the team to leave, you sat on the bench at the corner of the gym building, you kept scrolling past through several past messages you had with (C/N). It was weird, how they would act so cozy and cutesy, but once you address them that you like them, thinking the signals they sent were definitely mutual between you and them, they shoot it down. Tears began to drop, one by one, as you sniffled, rubbing your nose with the hem of your sleeve, hiccuping a bit. 

Something draped over your head, startled from the suddenness, you look up and see Bokuto looking down, standing as he crouches to your feet. He didn’t say anything, taking your phone and placing it to your side. You feel for the cloth that was on your head, soft and woodsy smell. It was his jacket. 

“Heya.” He grins to you. 

“Hi...” You mutter, looking down to your hands. 

Bokuto tilts his head owlishly, his large hand holding yours, not hesitant by the fact you twitched by his impulsive actions. “Why are you sad?” He asks, peeking to see your face. 

Sniffling, you shrugged. 

“Did you fail a test? You shouldn’t worry about that, I fail plenty of tests, but I’m still passing somehow. Akaashi helps me a lot, but Konoha says its cause people don’t like to see himbos sad. I don’t really know what that means, but I’m glad no one likes to see me sad.”  He pouts a bit, “I don’t wanna see you sad. Himbo or not, I think you’re really smart and you’re able to get back up if things don’t go your way.” 

You let out a watery giggle, the unintended joke that Bokuto made was pretty funny, seeing your light reaction made Bokuto feel happier, he continued, “I think whatever happened today, or yesterday, or three days before, I think you were able to study and prepare for what happened! You’re always prepared for stuff! I’m not usually prepared cause I just wing it, but I know from you, you can keep going when things aren’t okay. You help through that a lot,” He plays with your fingers and holds both in his own, “I wanna help you through it, too, y’know.” 

Bokuto always had something to say, even if it was a bit off. Yet somehow, what he says hits the mark most of the time. Three days before, you had planned and rehearsed your confession, thinking of possibilities of what will happen. Though, you hadn’t prepared to be laughed at by (C/N) and have what had between you two pretend like nothing happened, going throughout their day, whilst you stay sad with a broken heart. 

Bokuto did make you feel better. You started to forget what happened today, sure it made you a bit bitter, but Bokuto’s sweetness overfilled your heart. 

The ace began to see you stare at your hands, the small smile fading a bit. He pouted even more, grabbing your hands and placing them on his face, pushing cheeks together as he leaned close to you. “Don’t get sad now, (Y/N)! Let’s head to my place and watch that anime you like! The guy that keeps eating fingers!” 

Your eyes widened to see his golden eyes sparkle, staring into yours. “U-Uh, sure, Bokuto.” Blushing from how close he is, you should be used to this, as Bokuto doesn’t recognize the concept of personal space.

He scrunched his nose, his hands pressing against yours to squish his face he hummed. “I know what we should do! Let’s do those sleepovers where you put that face masks of animals on me! The ones that smell good! I can take some from my sisters, they won’t know!” He proposed his idea, attempting to make you feel better as he plans. 

“I-I’m not sure, Bo...” “Please! I’m here, y’know? I wanna help you, and I know you like to do those skincare stuff! My skin needs extra help, feel it!” 

Blinking, you gulp down the internal screams as you rub your thumbs on his cheek, seeing his happy face become dazed a bit, he looked as if he was melting in your hands while you continued to caress him. You chuckled at how cute he can be. 

“Fine, let’s go.” 

He beamed, smile shining as bright as the sun, “Yosh!” 

---------

Bokuto kept patting his face, astonished by how soft his skin is. “(Y/N), (Y/N)! Feel my skin! it’s so soft and shiny! The wonders of the mask is so cool!”

You smiled at him, patting your own face and began rubbing your hands. While he was busy, occupied with how amazing his skin had become, your phone chimed. Glancing at it, you frowned immediately. 

(C/N) : Let’s hang out, just the two of us! It’ll be a date :D 

When Bokuto turned around, seeing that you haven’t answered his question, his smile faltered, seeing you frown again, he shuffled onto the bed and plopped his chin on your shoulder.  “Why are you sad again?” He muttered in a defeated tone. He thought having a sleepover will make you feel better, were you not enjoying it? Was he forcing too much of you? Is he making you feel bad or trapped that you had to be obligated to hang out with him? 

“It’s not you, Bo. It’s...(C/N).” You replied, chucking your phone to the heap of pillows on his bed. 

“(C/N)? The one in Akaashi’s class?” He asked, lifting his chin as you turn to him. 

You nodded. “I told them I liked them and they...laughed at me. They said they didn’t like me and they only liked me as a friend. But it’s weird! They text me and get all...hugging and cutesy with me, they pretend they haven’t rejected me and go one through their day. Then,”  “Then?” 

“Then, they want to go on a date. Frickin, pick what you want us to be, jeez! I can’t keep up with their 180 turns! It’s getting me confused and I don’t want to keep having my heart ache.” You cross your arms on your chest and Bokuto hugs you from behind. 

He hums. “Well, if it was me, I’ll say I’ll like you.” “That would be nice. And way better to understand. You’re straightforward. Not to mention even though your emotions do complete 180s, I’ll be there and I’ll be able to keep you close, also we get to be straightforward and have no...weird mixed signals to know that we’re just dancing around the subject of hand.” 

Bokuto nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, his hair no longer his usual hairstyle as he already took a shower as its down and fluffier. “Mm! You don’t have to see them anymore either! We see each other more often and hang out more!” 

You continued on, “We also are kind of that hyperactive and calm-collected dynamic too!”

“Ohoh! If you got together with (C/N), you have to memorize their favorite foods and movies. You already know tons of stuff about me!” He hugs you closer as you begin to laugh. “Bo, you have to know their favorite movies and foods if you’re dating. It’s part of being together. Making an effort is what makes the relationship work.” 

He cuddles you more, strong arms around your waist and legs on either side of yours, “We make everything work, even if we argue n’ stuff like that.”  You blink slowly. “We...Do, don’t we?”

“If anything, I’m always here, (Y/N).”  “You always were and still, Bokuto.” You spoke, realization dawning on you. 

He sighs, breathing in your scent mixed in with his conditioner, “I’ll always like you, even if you do a 180.” 

Your hand held onto his, a small smile of fondness on your face as he laces your fingers with his, “I’ll always like you too. Even if your emotions do a 180.” 

[summonerscenarios]

OOO I have a request if u don't mind :3 How would The Summoners react to MC just. Totally passing out on them after a battle? Like they get injured and are barely hanging on and the general thought process is 'hhh can't stand anymore. Need somewhere safe. Friend safe. I sleep here zzz' thank you!!!

The protect friend instinct is strong in this one let’s goooo~!

-----

Toji

You go all out during a battle - whether it’s training or fighting with an enemy you go above and beyond to be the victor in order to protect your friends and yourself. Admittedly your recklessness stresses Toji out, and he feels as though his attention has to constantly switch between you and the battlefield just to make sure you don’t slip away and end up getting into trouble. That’s not to say you aren’t capable though, in fact you’ve shown time and time again that you can handle yourself, but that doesn’t mean that your battle ethic doesn’t make him worry. When you get jumped by some punks looking for a fight you’re the first to jump right in, charging ahead hoping to take them on before the other Summoner’s get dragged into the fight and Toji follows right behind you already unsheathing his katanas the moment he sees you stride forward. While he does his best to keep an eye on you throughout the fight, his attention has to switch to focus on the fencer in front of him after a close call, and by the time he looks over to find you you’ve disappeared into the crowd, only able to hear your voice over the sounds of weapons clashing as you slash and kick at anyone who comes close.

The last fighter is knocked down, and only after ensuring that they won’t be getting up until the app battle closes does Toji allow the tension to fall from his shoulders, sheathing his weapons and turning to assess the damages incurred during the battle. The other Summoners are scuffed and cut up but otherwise okay, expressions ranging from relieved that the battle is over to anxious in case of another attack (which, given their luck, is well within the realm of possibility). Toji spots you approaching the group as they rejoin, using your sword as a crutch until you’re close enough to lean against Kengo, looking over each member to make sure that they’re safe and in one piece.

Only you don’t stay there - the moment your shoulder touches the brawler’s you slide down onto the floor and the others rush to grab you the moment you drop to the ground. Toji pushes past to get to you, pulling you up into his arms and checking for any damage that could indicate why you’ve suddenly gone limp and unresponsive. Even as the battle zone closes and your injuries disappear you don’t wake even as he shakes you by the shoulders and calls out to you. For a horrible moment the thought strikes him that you aren’t going to wake up, but that moment just as quickly vanishes once he hears you breathing. You’re asleep - immediately after getting in a fight. 

Toji doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated about you passing out right after a battle. Though he understands that exhaustion and fatigue stay with you outside of battle zones, Toji still feels annoyed for getting so worried. But he’ll save the lecture for once you wake up. For now getting you somewhere safe takes priority, so Toji carries you on his back till the group makes it back to the safe house, listening to you sleepily mumble the whole way there. 

Ryota

Whenever there’s a fight, Ryota is the go-to guy for healing. As time’s gone on since obtaining his sacred artifact he’s learned to make the most of his powers in order to help out his fellow Summoners on the battlefield. Though he hates to see his friends get hurt in any way he’s at least relieved that he’s able to heal them, even if their wounds don’t follow them out of battle - the words of thanks and determined smiles they all give him as you leap back into the fray with newfound energy gives Ryota the push that he needs to keep going. This fight was no different, a group of enemies who weren’t willing to listen to any attempts to defuse the situation and were just looking for a fight came charging in, and the battle was raging in what felt like moments. When he’s not dodging weapons and fists, Ryota's giving his friends a boost - dodging and healing, dodging and healing - it’s a continuous rhythm, only broken when he has to push the enemies back with the help of his artifact.. 

Once the fight is over he’s relieved . However, then he spots you standing over one of the enemies and gripping your sword as though you’ve frozen after the last swing, hunched over and staring at the ground. He can see your chest heaving from here as though trying to catch your breath, and Ryota calls out to you hoping to get your attention. Your head snaps up and you straighten up, putting your sword to your side as you make eye contact. You look at him, shooting a lopsided grin and thumbs up and he’s relieved to see that you’re okay - injured but okay…

And then you just drop, falling back against the ground so quietly that if he hadn’t been looking none of them would have noticed. And he freaks out. Yelling your name Ryota rushes over to your side, already clutching his grail in his hand ready to heal you by the time he reaches you. There’s no real point in healing you - the battle is over and your injuries would go back to normal within the next few moments - but Ryota still uses his sacred artifact right up until the battle zone closes, calling your name with increasing distress the whole time. He’s so frazzled that he just about jumps when Toji steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder, assuring him that you’re okay, your exhaustion had just gotten the better of you and you’d passed out - nothing some sleep couldn’t take care of.

Once he hears this Ryota relaxes a little, but he won’t be truly reassured until you’re awake and he can see you’re okay. He spends the whole trip back to the safe house stuck to your side, fiddling with his grail the every time he looks at your sleeping face as though preparing to use it again at a moment's notice. You don’t get to see him fretting over you however, as the moment you wake up he’s the first one there to hug you, the distress on his face washed away as he beams at you, saying how glad he is that you’ve finally woken up!

Kengo

It’s fair to say that, for such a small guild, you attract plenty of enemies to scrap with - there’s always someone trying to take you guys on one way or another, be it taking you head on or trying to get one of you cornered. On the bright side it gives Kengo and the other fighters plenty of practice outside of training, and having the chance to fight side by side with you is something Kengo looks forward to. So when a fight breaks out and Kengo sees you jumping right into the fray of course he’s right behind you, rolling up his sleeves and getting the first swing in before the enemies even have a chance to touch you - they’re not going to get near you on his watch, and from the way you have his back, the feeling’s mutual.

Everything’s moving so fast that it’s easy to get caught up in the flow of the fight, throwing blows and dodging weapon swings gets the blood pumping in your veins and the tension builds between both sides as they hash it out for the win. So much so that you barely even notice you’re getting hurt in the process, too focused on getting hits in and pushing as many enemies back as possible. It isn’t until you shove down the last enemy and the battle is over that the weight of it hits you - looking over at the group the only thing that you can think about is ‘they’re okay - they’re safe” before it all comes crashing into you at once. The fatigue, the exhaustion and the pain hits you like a truck and you have to use your weapon as a crutch to move back over to where the other Summoners are gathering. Kengo flashes you a smile as you approach, bloody knuckles and a couple of bruises visible on him but nothing you’re not used to seeing - it relieves you to know that they’re all okay.

If only you could say the same about yourself. You hit your limit as soon as you touch Kengo’s shoulder, vaguely remembering him twisting to catch you as you drop to the floor before you black out. Kengo sees you fall out of the corner of his eye and manages to snag you around your side, panic welling in his chest feeling your body go completely limp in his arms - he’s yelling to try and wake you up, turning to shout at the other Summoners to get their attention but they’re already running up to him at the sight of you collapsed in his arms. 

Kengo argues with Toji when he takes you out of his arms to check you over, but he relents when he realizes that Toji’s just as concerned about your wellbeing as he is. Fortunately, it doesn’t take long before what happened to you comes to light - it honestly makes him bark out a laugh - I mean, come on, sleeping on the battlefield?! He wouldn’t expect anything less from his partner! He follows behind Toji on the way back to the safe house, trailing just close enough to be able to grab you in case you move about too much in your sleep and accidentally fall back, but the walk back thankfully goes relatively quiet (though the sleepy ramblings he catches at certain points are too hilarious to not bring up later).

Shiro

Shiro hears the yelling before he sees the enemies approaching, and by the time he’s turned around you already whizz past him, sword raised in defense as you charge at your opponents. Kengo’s right behind you running to catch up, and before Shiro can even warn the others to get ready the battle’s started, different sides clashing with the desire just to brawl it out. Shiro spots you throughout the fight trying to weave between enemies, watching you swing up and knock someone out cold with the butt of your sword as more continue to swarm you and, seeing the already battered state of you he can’t help but jump in to stop you from getting overwhelmed. 

You all work as a team, and a damn effective one at that - even outnumbered it doesn’t take long for the tides to sway back in your favor, knocking down the persistent ones and scaring off the others until the battle zone comes to a close and everything returns back to normal. Well, almost normal. While waiting for the area around you to reset Shiro focuses on talking to the other member, checking in with Toji and Ryota to see how they’re holding up after the fight. He’s about to check on you when he hears Ryota yell, and suddenly all of the Summoners are crowding around Kengo who’s holding something in his arms - no, someone.

It’s you, Shiro knows before he sees you, and even as he watches the wounds disappear from your body he’s concerned - even with the physical injuries gone there’s no telling the emotional and psychological - what made you pass out? Did you hit your head as you fell? Hearing that you’re okay kicks the logical part of his brain back into gear; of course, the injuries you sustained were enough to knock you out - you fight as hard if not harder than and get banged up in all kinds of ways in the process. You need to rest, to sleep it off and worry about the dangers of passing out in public later. Shiro’s the one who suggests heading back to the guild to let you recuperate - it’s safe territory and and it erases the issue of being caught by teachers smuggling your unconscious body back onto the school grounds. He’s on the phone with Moritaka and the others at the safe house on the way back, updating them on the situation and requesting a place to get set up for you to rest until your awake, occasionally pausing to check on you as you’re carried back in case you wake up on the way there.

[dweetwise]

Picture with me. Mt Ormond Legion gets the map. They see what they think is a new cosmetic of like a fur coat. They go to taunt. An actual bear rears up and looks at them. Legion bolts and does not want to be injured by a grizzly. Lets survivors know from out of stabbing distance of the bear.

[bless u anon for feeding my dbd crack needs. you didn’t say which legion you wanted so have some rat boy frank!]

swearing ahead! also ooc but what else is new lol

Frank VS bear: ficlet/crack

Seeing the mist fade as he’s teleported into a trial, the familiar chilly mountain air seeps though Frank’s mask. He spins his knife and hums in content, glancing around at the grounds of the ski lodge he knows like the back of his hand.

“Fuck yeah, home advantage,” Frank grins to himself, starting the trek through the thin layer of snow towards the far side of the map where his annoying little survivor prey usually spawn.

He cuts through a jungle gym, slowing down once he spots something through the window. Is that a fucking fur jacket? Frank suppresses a snicker while imagining which of the survivor pricks the new outfit belongs to. Maybe bird boy wanted to look even more like a caveman? Or the sleazy gambler thought it’d go well with his trashy fucking sequin pants?

He doesn’t get any answers, as the person doesn’t seem to be moving, just crouching a ways off from the window trying to hide. He knows his heartbeat range is tiny, courtesy of the Doc’s teachings, so maybe the fucker has spine chill? Frank sidesteps the wall, walking backwards around the corner so as not to alert the skittish survivor.

“Hey fuckface, the 50′s called--” Frank taunts, finally turning around and raising his knife, ready to surprise the living shit out of--

Frank’s grin drops as he comes face to face with a fucking bear holy fucking shit! The bear growls before standing up on its hind legs and roaring--

Frank nearly shits his pants and scurries through the window in a frenzy, dropping his weapon while fumbling through the opening in a panic. He bolts out of the jungle gym, sprinting towards the other side of the map as fast as his legs will carry him.

His heart is pounding in his ears and he has no idea if the bear is following him. Frank braves a glance over his shoulder and-- “Shit!” --trips over some inconveniently placed rubble, landing flat on his face in the snow with his mask falling off from the impact and sliding away on the icy ground. Fuck! Fuck! Frank looks up, frantically trying to spot the animal chasing him, but ends up freezing from mortification instead.

Not even five feet to his side, three survivors are crouching beside a generator, having stopped dead in their repairs to stare at him with varying levels of disbelief. For a few painful seconds Frank just awkwardly stares back at the familiar faces of fellow Ormondian Jeff, that tired bitch, Quentin, and wannabe Oprah--Jane? The silence is uncomfortable as nobody moves a muscle, the only sound being the slow putter from the generator.

“AHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Quentin, the little shit, finally bursts out and actually doubles over from laughter beside the machine. Frank feels his rage flare up and fuck that bitch is getting stabbed-- “Hey kid, you alright?” Jeff offers and approaches Frank, extending a hand to help the other up. Frank snaps out of it and springs to his feet, reminded of the impending doom of the bear chasing him. “Bear! BEAR!!!” Frank yells, grabbing the bearded man by the shoulders and shaking him violently. “Stop insulting him, you homophobic piece of--” Jane starts angrily, forcefully yanking Frank off of the artist. “No you dumb bitch, an actual grizzly! It almost fucking ate me!” Frank explains in panic, slapping at the woman’s arm until she lets him go. “What the heck are you on about??” Jane demands, rubbing at her arm where Frank landed a decent punch. “He’s probably tripping,” Quentin deadpans, having recovered from his laughing fit and now back on the generator. “You know, on more than his own feet,” he adds, snickering. “Shut the fuck up Smith--” ”Where did you see the bear?” Jeff asks with a serious tone, placing a calming hand on Frank’s shoulder. Frank recoils away from the touch in disgust. ”On the other side of the lodge, near... I think by the snow cannon,” Frank explains, wracking his panicked brain for information. ”Would you show me?” Jeff asks. ”Hell no! I ain’t getting eaten!” Frank protests angrily. ”Like it'd want your skinny ass anyway,” Quentin quips. Frank whips around, ready to throw fists, when Jeff fucking touches him again ugh-- ”We’ll try to spot it from the lodge balcony where it’s safe,” Jeff explains, reassuring hand on Franks bicep and shooting a warning look Quentin’s way. ”Jeff why are you humoring him? Surely it’s a trap,” Jane demands, hands on her hips and giving Frank the stink eye. ”Can’t you see how scared he is?” Jeff argues. ”I’m not fucking scared--” Frank starts, blood boiling and face heating up in embarrassment. “You guys work on the gens on this side while we check it out,” Jeff again interrupts his tantrum, leading Frank to the lodge with a strong grip on his arm. Frank doesn’t protest (much), kind of glad to be rid of the two bitches by the gen.

He follows Jeff to the second floor of the lodge, and soon they’re looking around for the bear from the balcony. Frank spots it, almost at the exact same location as before, frantically pulling at Jeff’s sleeve and pointing at the animal.

“Holy shit,” Jeff says, astonished. “Why did the entity put a bear here?” “I don’t fucking know! What the fuck are we gonna do?? I can’t kill you or the bear, I dropped my knife earlier!" Frank rambles angrily. “I don’t think you’re supposed to kill anything,” Jeff says, thoughtful. “You know, there’s only three of us in the trial today.” Before Frank has an opportunity to demand what the fuck Jeff is on about, the man says something that makes his blood run cold: ”I think the bear is the killer. And you’re... a survivor.” “Bull-fucking-shit I’m a pussy survivor!” Frank protests angrily. “And even if I was--which I’m not... why?” “Entity parenting?” Jeff suggests. “It’s probably sick of you being a brat.” “I fucking hate you,” Frank says, giving his dirtiest glare. “The second I get my knife back--” “Sure kid,” Jeff says and has the audacity to smile. “Now let’s go find the others.”

They find Quentin and Jane on a different generator than before. Jeff explains the situation, causing Quentin to, predictably, burst out in laughter.

“It’s not fucking funny--” Frank hisses. “Oh my god I’m so done with this entity bullshit,” Jane sighs tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What am I even supposed to do!?” Frank demands, crossing his arms and staring at the trio with barely concealed hatred. “You’re supposed to help us out with wholesome magical teamwork!” Quentin beams, clearly getting off on his misery. “Or y’know, get mauled to death by the grizzly. Your choice.” “Quentin, stop picking a fight and show Frank how to fix the gen. Me and Jane will handle the ones that are closer to the bear,” Jeff decides. “Fuck no I ain’t staying with this cunt!” Frank exclaims, mortified. “Works for me,” Quentin shrugs, ignoring Frank and merely offering a wave as Jeff and Jane take off.

After Frank reluctantly listens to Quentin’s half-assed instructions and crouches down to touch the generator in disgust, the annoying teen thankfully shuts up. For a while Frank tries his best to stay focused on the machine, his leg jumping in pent-up energy as his thoughts flutter between the threat of the bear, his rage for the entity’s stunt, the uncertainty of what’s to come after this trial--

“Motherfucker!” Frank curses at the machine as it explodes under his hands. “You know,” Quentin says absently, not even acknowledging his failure. “You should ditch the fugly mask more often. Makes you almost tolerable to look at,” he challenges with a smirk. “Maybe you should have it, fuck knows you need it more with a mug like that,” Frank shoots back without missing a beat, ducking behind the generator to hide a grin. His foot stops twitching and he realizes it’s much easier to focus when he has someone to banter with.

Later, when the stupid generators are done and there’s no sign of the bear, they regroup with Jeff and Jane (ugh) in an already opened exit. Frank grimaces as Jeff tries to give him some cringy heartfelt compliment, before flipping Jane off when the woman tries to start an apology. Jane huffs in annoyance while Jeff merely chuckles, leading Jane into the exit, both of them disappearing into the void.

“I wonder what’s gonna happen once you get out,” Quentin muses, leaning against the gate panel and not seeming in any hurry to leave. “You think this was a one-off?” “I sure fucking hope so,” Frank mutters, not eager to repeat this dumb practical joke of the entity. “You didn’t actually do terrible today, rat boy,” Quentin quips with a grin. “Says the raccoon,” Frank mutters, turning away as he feels his neck heating up from a single half-assed compliment. Where’s his fucking mask when you need it?? “Eh, raccoons are kinda cute. I’ll take it,” Quentin says, thankfully ignoring his embarrassment. “More like stinky and a pain in the ass.” ”None of those are mutually exclusive,” Quentin jokes, before looking back into the snowy map in thought. “Going back for your mask still?” he asks, with barely concealed... worry? ”Nah, Susie’ll make another,” Frank remarks, ignoring the other’s sudden interest in his well-being. “Maybe you should do this more often,” Quentin says. “Get rid of the mask and, y’know, stabbing. Might even make some friends.” “I don’t need friends,” Frank scoffs. He has his Legion, why would he want to play family with the survivors?

Quentin--smirks?--which is definitely not the reaction Frank was anticipating. Frank suddenly realizes he’s been standing way too close to Quentin for acceptable bro-range and the other is looking at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Frank feels his face heat up and an insult dies on his tongue. Quentin opens his mouth to say something, but seems to notice something behind Frank as his eyes go comically wide.

“FUCK, THE BEAR!!” Quentin yells and Frank bearly has time to turn around to see the massive animal come barreling towards them before Quentin is pulling on his jacket, making them both stumble and nearly trip over each other as they fall into the safety of the exit gate threshold.

[is frank a) a bi disaster b) terrible at making friends or c) all of the above? also where do i sign to let jeff adopt legion]

[howrry]

swing for the fences

a/n: “i’m writing a 5/1 story!” five seconds later: here’s a piece that has nothing to do with that!! not even sorry, one direction never kept their promises so why should i ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ besides i like this work way more than the 5/1 tbh, so here’s a fwb piece i’ve had unfinished for weeks now, pls enjoy

w/c: 3.0k

warnings: smutsmutsmut bitch

***

Harry figured out he really liked Y/N while standing in line at a sandwich shop.

It was sudden and unceremonial, compared to the cute stories that go like "oh I fell in love with my husband when we stared deeply into each other's eyes" or "I realized I loved her when she helped me in my time of need" that you can find on Reddit. No, Harry had to have his epiphany while staring at sliced banana peppers.

While the young boy behind the counter was loading his sandwich into the toaster, Harry peered over the glass and thought about what veggies he wanted. Spinach and tomatoes, of course, maybe some jalapeños, and so on. He remembered that he'd be seeing his friend Y/N later that day and knew that if she saw his food, she'd want a bite. While he was an avid hater of the aforementioned banana peppers, they were Y/N's favorite, and he pondered over getting some so that she'd enjoy her bite out of his sandwich more.

You like her. The thought hit him like a train. Normally he wouldn't let anybody else so much as breathe towards his food, yet he was considering ruining his entire sandwich just so that Y/N could enjoy a single bite out of it. Because he liked her.

The realization knocked the wind out of him. When the employee asked what he wanted on his sub, he stumbled over his words and by the time he paid and left the store, he doesn't even remember if he got the damn peppers or not.

This was a problem. See, Harry and Y/N had a great thing going on—what one would call friends with benefits. They hung out together, saw movies, ate breakfast and other friendly activities by day, and by night he was guaranteed to be burying himself in her. No romance, no attachments, nothing. Perfect!

Except, well, not anymore. What was he going to do? The two of them had always prided themselves on being able to separate feelings from sex; sometimes you just needed to get your rocks off, and having that option always at arm's length was incredibly convenient. Now that he'd discovered he might have more feelings than he thought he did, there was no foreseeable way for this to be resolved without at least one of them getting hurt.

So he tried to ignore it.

***

Y/N knocked on his door later that day, despite having a key to his house and using it to let herself in. “Haz!” she called, and he emerged from the kitchen, wiping the avocado ranch from the corner of his mouth. He stiffened a bit when she gave him a chaste hug, but she didn’t seem to notice.

They went to the kitchen together, where she noted the remains of the sandwich on his table. “Thanks for getting me something, cuck,” she whined, gesturing towards his leftovers.

“You can have the rest, yeh big baby!” he said as if he hadn’t intended to give it to her the whole time.

She squealed in delight, taking a massive bite and then talking without swallowing first. “Hey, I love banana peppers! Thanks!”

“Don’t talk with your food in your mouth,” he chastised, ignoring her comment.

The remainder of the evening went like it normally would. They chatted about their days (Harry leaving out his big discovery, of course), started their journey catching up on Stranger Things, and ended up necking on his couch. When she ghosted her lips across his skin to go for a real kiss, though, he dove to avoid it and bit at her earlobe instead. He whispered that the two of them should go to his room and, as far as he knew, she didn’t even notice he’d avoided one of the simplest parts of sex.

When they didend up sleeping together, he tried to make it as distant and impersonal as possible. He didn’t attach his mouth to hers even once and skipped out on foreplay once he’d undressed her, merely checking if she was wet enough with his fingers (she was, always so damn pliant) before stuffing his cock into her from behind. He ended up having a below-average orgasm way too quickly and even felt guilty enough to work backwards and get her off with his hands.

Once they were done, she made a lighthearted joke about him being in a rush judging by the mediocre sex. Harry didn’t really react to this, and she was so uncomfortable she let herself out. She normally spent the night.

So there Harry was, lying in his cold bed by himself, arms tucked behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He felt awful. His new tactic clearly didn’t work and it’d unsettled the one girl he liked.

Time to switch game plans, he guessed.

***

That morning, the first thing he did was shoot Y/N an apologetic text saying he’d felt tired and wasn’t able to give a grade-A performance (even though, uh, hello, he was the one who initiated sex, but whatever). She forgave him instantly, which made his stomach knot. Why did she have to be so compassionate and forgiving? Why was she such a great person?

Throughout the next few weeks, he decided to change up his attitude in the bedroom. Being her friend wouldn’t change regardless of how he felt about her, so he acted the complete same from day to day, but things were different at night.

It was a complete 180 from what he'd tried before. He originally attempted to dodge kissing, now he pressed his lips to hers with a fervor that he hadn't felt in years. He used to like taking her from behind and pushing her head down into the pillows, now he was fucking her missionary, snaking an arm around the small of her back so that as much of her skin was against his as possible. Now he was letting her sit in his lap, his cock nestled in her and nails dragging down the soft skin of her back. Now he was going down on her for hours, licking and eating like she was an oasis in a desert. He used to pull out before he came and paint either her ass or her face, now he chose to finish inside of her, marking her as his from the inside. He fucked her, well, like he loved her.

Y/N didn't seem to catch onto this rollercoaster of changes that Harry was putting her through, or if she did, she didn't mention it. She was always good at matching his energy in the bedroom, no matter how rough or how tender (which didn’t bode well for his soft heart). It’d be one thing if she questioned this new behavior, but everything he gave her, she gave right back. Every burning kiss, every hair pull, every bite and thrust and moan was reciprocated—if not topped in intensity. Again, not so good for his already-growing feelings.

After one particularly long and hot-blooded round, Harry decided to ask how she really felt. He lay in bed, panting from his orgasm just moments before, when Y/N returned from a quick bathroom break. Now or never, he thought.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, voice cracking at the dehydration. He sat up in bed, sheets bunching up around his lap.

She waved a hand at him, picking up her pants and forcing her legs into them. "I know, I know, I'm leaving. I don't wanna run into your round two on my way out," she winked, continuing to pull her jeans up her thighs.

"No!" he blurted. Round two? What the hell was she talking about? Did she really think that he had someone elsecoming over after that mind-blowing, passionate sex? "What? No. I just—"

"I'm kidding, Harry," she deadpanned, stopping him. "But seriously, I do have to go. I'll catch you tomorrow?" The tail end of her sentence kicked up, even though both of them knew she'd be back. "Text you when I get home!" She slammed the door behind her, and Harry sat with his jaw in his lap.

He didn't even get a text.

***

Harry hated bars.

He didn’t even know why he went. Well, that was a lie. Any chance to spend time with Y/N he jumped on, even if it was with their mutual friends at a dingy club.

At this point in the evening, he was pretty sauced. He’d long since lost track of the whole friend group, and chose to relax at the bar where even the bartender lost track of how many pints he’d had in the evening.

He spotted her on the other side of the U-shaped bar, chatting up a strikingly attractive fella with loose blonde hair and beaming white teeth. You know, nothing like Harry.

He felt sick. There was no stated monogamy between them and she owed him no loyalty, but for the past few months they’d damn near spent every waking moment together. There wasn’t even any time for her to be with someone else. But now, everything was fair game and she was clearly taking the chance presented to her.

Fuck it. He downed what was left in his glass, threw enough money on the bar to cover his drinks and a tip, and marched over to the duo.

“Oh hi!” Y/N gushed when she made eye contact. “Caleb, this is my friend Harry. Harry, this is Caleb.”

So. His name was Caleb. Up close, he was even more immaculate. His skin was as clear as the sky, he had the bone structure of a sculpture, and despite his blonde hair, his eyelashes were thick and dark. His manners were clearly up to par as well, since he politely extended a hand and flashed a smile at Harry. When he merely stared down at his hand, Caleb awkwardly pulled back.

“Nice to meet you, Harry. Y/N was just telling me about her recent trip to the Grand Canyon. I can’t imagine hiking in that weather, you’re quite brave.” That last part was more directed at her, and the attention made her giggle.

“Actually, I went with her on that trip,” Harry noted, both of their gazes snapping to him. “The weather was quite pleasant given the time of year. We didn’t even mind the heat when we fucked in the tent two nights in.”

“What the fuck?” Y/N blurted. Her face turned bright red, showing through even under her makeup, and his comment even got the attention of nearby patrons. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered to a shocked Caleb before grabbing Harry’s hand and yanking him to the back hallway of the bar.

Once out of the range of the booming music, she stopped and attempted to push him against the brick wall behind him, failing due to his size. “Harry, you need tostop,” she reprimanded.

“Stop wha’?” he slurred, genuinely curious about what she meant. Stop drinking, stop feeling so sorry for himself, stop loving her?

“Stop making a scene. What’s the matterwith you?” Her arms folded over her chest, enhancing her rack in her dress but Harry was too far gone to appreciate it.

“I don’ like him,” he huffed.

“That’s ridiculous,” her eyes cut into slits. “You met him 45 seconds ago, and I don’t get uppity about your bitches!”

“Haven’t slept with someone else since you,” he confessed. “Haven’ even looked at anyone else the same since I first touched you,” he purred, taking a step towards her.

She stepped back, hitting the wall behind her. “What?”

Fuck it, he was drunk. He wouldn’t even remember this in the morning. “The second I put my hands on your body, and tasted you, and saw what you look like when I make you cum on my cock, I saw the whole world differently. Reckon I love yeh,” he finished his dirty secret with a nervous laugh, somewhat cutting the meaning of his words.

For a few moments of heavy silence, he thought she was going to reciprocate his admission. There was a tiny glint in her eyes that made him think she felt the same and he opened his mouth to dig himself deeper into his hole but she stopped him.

Something washed over her face and she suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Y/N pursed her lips and brought a hand up to awkwardly scratch at her elbow. “I shouldn’t have let you have that last beer.” It was a joke, obviously, since she hadn’t been around him since his first drink of the night, but he didn’t laugh. “Let’s get you a water and take you home so you can get some sleep.” Harry couldn’t even protest before she grabbed his arm and tugged him back through the bustling dance floor and out the front door. He never even got his water.

To say that Harry was devastated was the understatement of the millennia. He’d just poured his heart out to the girl who had occupied his every thought for the past few weeks and she breezed over it like it was nothing. He didn’t speak another word to her for the rest of the night, barring a dazed “thank you” when she helped him up the stairs in his home and got him into bed. Once he was relatively comfortable, she let herself out without saying anything.

Well, that was it. He shot his shot, swung for the fences, and missed. If a truth bomb like that wasn’t enough for Y/N, nothing would be. As he laid in bed, head swimming and the stationary fan seemingly spinning above him, he knew his relationship with her was over.

He had to drag himself out of bed and into the bathroom to throw up, and he knew full heartedly that it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

***

Harry had never been a “show up at a girl’s door” kind of guy, especially if he was about to break up with her. Or, whatever he was about to do. Can you break up with someone you never dated?

However, he knew this was something that had to be done in person. His stomach was in a painful knot from the moment he woke up and didn’t subside during the drive to her apartment nor while walking up to her door or rapping it with his knuckles. It especially didn’t get any better when she swung the door open and was clearly happy to see him, smiling bigger than the sun. Clearly, she was ready to forget about last night and move the fuck on.

She let him in and briefly apologized for still being in pajamas, blaming it on laundry day. “When I have a coherent outfit that’s clean, wanna go see the new Spider-man movie?” she asked, leading him to her living room.

Her question was so innocuous, his stomach got even worse. “Actually, there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

This made her stop in her tracks, her bubbly persona fading away. He knew damn well she hated those kind of ominous sentences, that they gave her anxiety. “Is everything okay, H?”

He inhaled through his nose sharply, blinking to make sure he wasn't tearing up. "I think we need t'stop seeing each other. Like, even as friends." It came out in one breath, like if he didn't, he knows he would've stumbled over it.

To his shock, Y/N's face paled. "W-what? H... why?" she was starting to even tremble.

"I'm gettin' too fuckin' attached, okay?" he blurted. No going back now, he guessed. "Whatever's going on between us clearly means nothing to you and I can't keep pretending like I'm fine with it. I can’t keep acting like everything is okay when it’s not.

His explanation made her jaw pop open. "Wait, you were serious? When you confessed your feelings?"

Harry's head reared back. "What? Of course I was serious! Why wouldn't I have been?"

She shrugged, choosing to stare at the floor rather than make eye contact. "I don’t know. You were drunk, I-I thought it was some kind of ploy. You've been acting kind of weird lately and I didn't know what you were planning. I got scared so I tried to be more chill about... us."

He blinked. “Well, now yeh know. It wasn’t a ploy, or a drunken mistake. I’m serious when I say that I love yeh, and if yeh don’t feel the same way, tell me now so I can walk the fuck out.” His head dropped down to his folded hands, staring down at the cross tattoo.

Her face turned pink at his profanity. He very rarely swore around her except in the bedroom, so the severity of the situation weighed on her. “Of course I love you,” she admitted, just barely over a whisper.

His head snapped up. “What?”

“Harry, you’re one of the best guys I’ve ever met. You treat me so well, I don’t even understand it myself. I mean, you hatebanana peppers, for God’s sake!” She laughed, and Harry’s stomach unknotted for the first time in 48 hours.

“What?” he repeated, her confession not quite sinking in.

“Are you a broken record? I said I love you! Is that not what you want?”

“I—no, it is! I’m just in shock! I’ve been through a lot since last night, okay?”

She dropped down on the couch next to him and threw her arms around him, and he instinctively wrapped his hands around her biceps. “So, what now?” she asked, pulling away and looking at him with doe eyes.

“Well, you’re m’girlfriend now, I reckon,” he smirked. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yes! Of course, you dummy.” The seemingly unwaivering smile on her face was replaced with a mischievous look. “Now that we’re dating, you have to help me with stuff that you didn’t before.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do y’mean?”

She stood up from the couch and grabbed his arm, dragging him down the hallway. “I have laundry to fold, and the faster it’s done, the sooner we can see Jake Gyllenhaal kicking Spider-man’s ass!”

And to be honest? He couldn’t complain, not one bit.

[heesgf]

apollo. musician! hyunsuk au.

in which choi hyunsuk’s exterior is bright like apollo, and you skim beneath his surface. 

plot: choi hyunsuk is a charming guitarist, and you’re tasked with reviewing his performance for your school’s journalism column.

word count: 3k

pairing: reader x choi hyunsuk 

a/n: i’d like to dedicate this dreamy fic to my lovely suk biased mutuals/followers! might be one of my fav pieces ever... it’s a little new for me, but i hope u angels enjoy anyways!!!💞  i hope you’ll give it a chance, and ur support means everything to me!!! ｡：ﾟ(｡ﾉω＼｡)ﾟ･｡

warnings: choi hyunsuk being a flirty baby and lots!!! of pining!!! mostly fluff, but some angst here and there, underage drinking???

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Beneath the incandescent glow of sputtering stage lights, Choi Hyunsuk’s was the face that launched the yearning heart.

The perfect muse.

           The boy clad in white chiffon garments, in gold and silver chains. With those hoops that hung loosely from his ears and shimmering pendant that so effortlessly framed his collarbone; in the same way those sunny locks of his hair did his eyes. It was the door to his sweet and everlasting gaze, to his soft and celestial smile.

           On stage, there was an air of extravagance in the way he rummaged through his hair. The way he strummed long and taut fingers against the string of his guitar, a desperation in the twinkle of his eyes, and a mystery on his lips—a mystery you wished to solve with your lips against his, with your hands in that hair, and your grip fixed on his sparkling neck—he was the kind of boy that might inspire the statue David. Entice your aching soul, and make you want to sculpt his every curve in stainless marble. On stage, you swore he was like Apollo.                                                           

Off stage, you knew he was trouble.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

In your eyes, Choi Hyunsuk had always been kin with the sun.

Although now he stands before you in a cobalt gleam.

The yellowed hue of stage lights shines brightly onto the pale blue of his messy dress shirt, untucked and wrinkled. He sits alone on the cherry coloured wood, body coiled, and eyes glued to the scribbled pages of sheet music. It’s the way you see him wherever you turn; the way he seems to light up the darkness around him that makes you realize he looks so much more like the moon.

It’s then you understand the misconception, and it’s then you pull toward him; tidal waves to the empyrean sky.

You pull the camera hanging around your neck up toward your eyes, and feel the dampness of your palms against the pads of your fingers. The camera flashes when he looks up with an inquisitive glance, then he shoots you one of the those smiles. The kind that makes your knees weak. The kind that screams trouble.

“Like what you see?” He questions, eyebrows raised and gaze tender.

There is the soft rumble of jazz music droning somewhere in the distance, but it’s minute compared to the soft drawl of his voice, so much softer, and sweeter than you imagined.

You spare a glance at his beaming smile, then at the photograph on the dingy screen on of the camera. There’s a gasp in the back of your throat that yearns for release, and with a sharp cough from the chest, you ignore it. He is much more than alluring. Blonde hair that curls at the back of his neck, deep set eyes with chocolate coloured pupils. He is sweet like his voice, and he is much more than alluring. You look up from the photo and back to his eyes.

“No...” You ponder, scrunching your nose. “No, you’re blinking.”

His expression soon matches yours, and in a second, melts into another glorious smile.

“Guess you have to take a few more then, huh?”

The words are so simple, and yet, you can’t seem to shake the eruption of chills at the small of your back. His bottom lip is wedged between his teeth, and that’s when you give him a curt nod, turn your back, and walk away briskly, refusing to glance behind and absorb his bewildered expression.

“I’ll see you later?” He shouts after you, but you’re halfway out the auditorium door.

It’s when Choi Hyunsuk smiles. When his eyes are wide, and kind, in that mixture of confusion and amusement, that you understand he is neither the sun, or the moon.

He is much rather the cosmos.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t trust him.”

          Sitting on the campus coffee shop, you’re tossed between drinking the rest of your half melted iced caramel macchiato, and delving off into the serenity of the cafe’s decor. There are green potted plants at the base of every crystalline windowsill, and large-scale murals on the plane of every wall. You have half the mind to walk into one of those paintings. Kim Junkyu’s loud mouth brings you back.

“You.” He says vaguely before taking a swig of tea. “—don’t trust anybody.”

While you attempt to reply, there’s a knit in your forehead that tells you he might be right. You shoot him a concerned glance, then you bury your head in your hands.

“This piece is going to be awful.” You groan. But Junkyu takes it upon himself to flick you against the forehead, drawing your attention back to his stern expression.

“Listen, [Y/N]. Do you think I like spending my Friday nights watching sweaty Lee Byounggon play basketball? Let me answer that question for you: NO!”

          The ferocity in his eyes makes your face twist in amusement, and you nod your head understandingly. Junkyu goes on.

“I do it because I like writing for the sport’s column. And you, are gonna be completely fine writing for Hyunsuk. He’s really not all that bad.”

You grimace. “But he’s such a flirt!”

“Being friendly never hurt anybody.” He argues, then he stifles a giggle. “Besides, I think you could learn a thing or two when it comes to flirting.”

“I will throw this hot tea at you, don’t test me!”

          Junkyu playfully maneuvers his body away from you, though you simply roll your eyes in response. With a small jingle of the door, there’s an influx of bodies, and a strong gust of air that hugs tightly onto your skin. You’re still focused on using Junkyu’s tea as a weapon by the time his mouth parts in surprise. You don’t quite understand the mystified look in his eyes; that is, until you hear the gentle whisper of his name.

Suddenly, as if with the sweep of Spring air, he stands against the cafe’s greenery; against copious vines of growing plants and the plush expanses of verdant leaves—like walking art, Choi Hyunsuk seems to appear in a myriad of bustling colours.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t take your breath away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He is better than art in that you can feel him.

          His presence, as if some force in the ether has a divine clutch on your body, is absolutely mesmeric. There are more goose bumps on your arms, calves, thighs than you could possibly count, and a hesitation in the back of your mind that coats your thoughts thickly. It’s a clouded sense of worry, but now your eyes are closing in on him, and only him. He is calling to you in open silence, and it’s a sensation unlike any other; you almost don’t notice the creeping hand of Kim Junkyu, which wraps around your arm, pulls you upward, and then forward, toward him.

“Good luck.” Junkyu whispers into your ear, voice airy from the lull of gentle winds, sodden with excitement.

“I don’t want to.” You’re hissing back at him, but it seems it’s too late. Hyunsuk looks toward you with a dip between his forehead, and he stands by the rows of sugar packets in a way that’s far too picturesque. He drowns in the splendor of a plain white t-shirt, like satin between your fingertips, and you turn away before the feelings linger. He looks to you once more, this time with a fervent wave.

“It’s you.” He says brightly, lips perched in a small smile.

He is unnervingly gentle, magnificently striking.

You nod. “Uh yeah, I guess it’s me.”

“You’re the one writing my piece for journalism, right? Is it [Y/N]?”

          Your name from his lips sends your heart into full bloom, and you think Kim Junkyu might be the worst friend you’ve ever had. You want to stay calm and collected, but the longer your mouth parts, the faster you realize the words won’t come out. You nod numbly at his inquiry, and groan inwardly at your frailty. His smile grows wider.

“I read your piece about the 101 Things not to do at a Basketball Game the other day, and I couldn’t put it down. You’re an amazing writer.”

You pause.

Then your rampant heartbeat slows.

You almost grin.

“Oh, I didn’t write that piece.”

His smile falters.

          If there was a hulk of chains strapped to your chest when Hyunsuk first walked in, those very chains feel like they’ve unraveled. Perhaps they’ve now claimed refuge on the withering boy in front of you, whose lips purse in confusion, whose cheeks burn a dusty rose. Choi Hyunsuk is a smooth talker to say the least, but now, he is bashful, and the playing field seems even.

“Trying to talk your way into a good review?” You ask playfully.

“Depends.” He bites his lower lip and squints eye. “What do you value more? Flattery or humility.”

          You look to the iced coffee that sits on your abandoned table. Kim Junkyu stands not too far away, avidly staring at a drink menu despite having ordered moments ago. You calmly take the drink into your hand, twirl the straw in your cup, and flash him the most candid look you can muster.

“How about… honesty?”

For a moment, he is silent.

Then he looks to you with a subtle sense of curiosity. There’s a hand running slowly through his hair, and a wild glint in his eyes; you can feel the thumping in your chest return once again.

“Honestly.” He breathes. “I think you’re breathtaking.”

          You know you should say something. You know more than anything that you should say something. But you’re not sure where this boy ends and begins, not sure what lies past his even-tempered veneer, still, not sure if you can trust him.

“I-I’m sorry. Was that too forward?” The hand is back in his hair, and this time, it’s erratic. “Can we just, uh, start over?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” You tease. “That was quite the first impression.”

          Sunlight shines through the cafe’s wide paneled windows and straight onto Choi Hyunsuk’s perturbed face. Now, he tilts his head and knits an eyebrow, still a blinding smile on his lips, but he’s less animated, more perplexed.

“Good or bad?”

You scrunch your nose. “I’ll sleep on it.”

“You?” He repeats.  “Thinking of me before you go to sleep? Yeah... yeah I can work with that.”

          Choi Hyunsuk is nodding his head when you turn around to face the cafe’s double door entry. There is a pool of emotion that fosters in the depths of your soul, and still, you think it’s best to leave it untouched, to dissipate. But you’re still thinking of him when you push past the door. Still when the crisp morning air latches onto your barren skin. Still when the bright morning sun offers you warmth and comfort. He is more charming than you imagined.

You realize Choi Hyunsuk’s artistry isn't the only thing you should stay weary of.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first time you hear him play the guitar, you swear it’s the sweet sound of the lyre.

          It echoes against the concrete walls of the music room, up to the high peaks of the ceilings, and back down again; cups at your ears and nestles in the cracks of your conscience.

It’s a sound you want to reach out and touch.

When he finishes, he looks to you for approval.

“You gonna play that at the showcase?” Your words come out in a breathy mumble, though you blame it on the rapid movement of his languid fingers, on the harmonious tune, on his rhythmic humming.

“Nah.” He says loosely. “Probably not.” He stands abruptly from his position on a music room chair, and places his guitar back onto its stand. “They like pop songs.”

“Who’s they?”

He shrugs. “The audience. I don’t usually play my own stuff.”

“Where’s the soul in that?”

             It’s the way his face falls into itself that makes you think you’ve said the wrong thing, and suddenly, you feel a plummeting in the pits of your stomach; feels like your heart is sinking. An apology teeters at the tip of your tongue, but Hyunsuk looks back at you.

There is a tenderness in his face you’ve never seen. Sentiment.

You swear he’s never looked so beautiful.

“I guess...they don’t ever really wanna hear me, you know?”

You fight the urge to look at him with complete astonishment.

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined a somber tone in Choi Hyunsuk’s speech. He is blinding rays of iridescent sunshine, toothy grins in boisterous hallways, jaunty cheers of joy and happiness—there is a complexity in his tone, vulnerability in his facade that now, more than ever, beckons for your attention.

You swear he’s never looked so beautiful. And he is far more hypnotizing when he tells the truth.

“I wanna hear you.” You reply bluntly, and your wonderment grows tenfold when you catch the uncertainty flashing through his eyes.

          He grins down at his fingers, and when he looks up at you, he’s nodding his head.

“How about you let me take you out on a date?” He starts suddenly.

“How about you write me a song?”

          His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his pinkish lips, and then his eyes crinkle, along with the ghost of a small laugh. He nods his head again.

“You know, if you never give me a chance, you’ll never know what you’re missing. I could be the guy of your dreams.”

You spare Choi Hyunsuk a single glance, and it’s now that you acknowledge his close proximity. He sits across you, sparingly, on the music room’s wooden bench, with his eyes wandering. You catch his stare at your lips. You know that you should move, and yet, you find yourself looking deeper into his starry eyes.

“That’s what scares me.”

Choi Hyunsuk leans in to kiss you.

You rush out the music room door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The only part of Lee Byounggon’s beach party that isn’t swarming with drunken teenagers is the downstairs balcony.

          From the comfort of your stranded lawn chair, you can hear the remnants of Kim Seunghun’s beer pong game, and the shouts of your friend Park Jihoon, who has everyone convinced he can freestyle to Eminem’s ‘Rap God’. (You smile to yourself knowing that he can’t.)

          The night sky, speckled with gleaming stars, cowers over the small area in a cool toned haze. You are sipping on the watery mixture of orange liqueur and soda in your cup when the clumsy body of a tipsy Choi Hyunsuk barrels through the balcony doors.

“You’re here!” He clamors, sliding into the chair next to you and lying roughly against the chair’s upward slope. You find yourself leaning into his embrace, his touch, his warmth; and the brush of his fingers against your bare back is almost sobering.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here.” It’s a stutter when you first speak, but you can’t bother putting in the effort. Speaking with Choi Hyunsuk makes you want to stutter and the ease alcohol procures strips you down to your true self; it feels better this way. Much, much better.

“Thinking hard?” His head clumps down onto your shoulder. Silken strands of his hair skim the sensitive skin on your shoulder, your arm is ridden with goose bumps, but you stay put. This time, not pulling away. Instead, you lower your head alongside his, and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat pulsating in your temple.

“Not really.” Your reply is absent minded, and he releases a vibrant giggle.

“Where’s the soul in that?” He repeats mockingly, and now, you start giggling too. “Seriously, [Y/N]. What’s your story? You’re always searching for answers with me. It’s my turn.”

          There’s a creeping sensation at the base of your neck. And you wonder how long he’s carried that thought, and how much longer it must’ve taken to muster the courage, and release it. Your mind is blank, and your body quivers, although the warmth he provides is mollifying. Your lips are more relaxed than you would’ve thought.

Your forehead pinches. “I don’t really have one.”

“Bullshit.”

You bite your lip.

“School... Family... Love.” He continues. “What’s your story?”

“Love.” You start shakily, whispering into the crown of his head. “Love is hard. I-It’s scary. Unreliable. I-I don’t like feeling that way.”

          Through the falling strands of your hair, you can feel his gaze fixed up at you. You cannot meet his eyes; you’re staring straight up at the moon, still so bold and resilient. Qualities you wish you could mirror.

“I disagree.” He mumbles. A raw pitch in his voice that dries the moistness in your sweltering eyes. You look down.

“Yeah?”

“I-I think when you’ve found the right person, loving them is easy.”

It’s half past midnight when you push your hands onto Choi Hyunsuk’s broad chest, and half past your breaking point when you wrap yourself in his embrace, and press your lips vehemently against his.

It’s half past his grandest dream when Choi Hyunsuk closes the balcony door behind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Choi Hyunsuk is most heavenly when his nose is bumping into yours, and his lips soothe over in batches of giggly kisses.

          By now, you have your hands tangled in wavy locks of his messy hair, and your thumb is pressed firmly on the smooth curve of his jaw. It’s then that you cradle the cusp of his face and skim over the tan skin of his neck. He is kissing sloppily onto your lips, and then at your cheeks, and when you turn your face into the crook of his neck, he places more at the base of your exposed collarbone. You breathe deeply into his sultry skin, and it’s a mixture of fading ocean water, and the sweet smell of vanilla.

          Weeks spent swearing Choi Hyunsuk is art reach their peak in this moment; because now, you know that he is.

When his lips lose their fervor, and his body clumps onto yours, together you travel to the neighbouring living room and lie instinctively on the couch.

Choi Hyunsuk is most heavenly when you’re falling asleep to the gentle thumping of his heartbeat.

You are most heavenly when you place sleepy kisses on his rounded cheeks.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If sound had colour, you think Choi Hyunsuk’s morning voice is misty baby blue.

          A sound that’s as soft as the sky at daybreak, and as wistful as the distant moon, barely visible in the nomadic sky. There is a rasp in the centre of his chest, and a soreness of the throat that seems to melt away with a few kisses. Radiant morning light spills into the disheveled room, like snowy milk into freshly brewed coffee, and you bask in the comfort it provides. Hyunsuk has an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, and another, perched tentatively at your blushing cheeks. He runs the back of his fingers over the patches of scarlet red, and as if to take the heat away from your face, murmurs into your fingers.

“Wish me luck tonight.”

          Begrudgingly, he moves his body upward, and you, along with it. He broadens, as if to stand up and straighten his wrinkled clothing, prepare for the big day ahead, but with a sudden spur of your tightly woven heartstrings, you grasp tightly onto his wrist, and face him with glossy eyes.

“You won’t need it.” You say onto the warmth of his skin. A timid grin makes its way onto his lips, and you wonder how it tastes.

You pull him back onto the couch.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Choi Hyunsuk greets the stage with the blinding luminescence of his acoustic guitar.

          There, under those sputtering stage lights, you recognize a new found fluidity in his presence; a sentiment in his eyes that is much deeper than the likes of his flawless exterior. It is the sheer rawness of his performance, the subtle melody of instruments, the deep lyrics of the soul, the voice of silver and gold; these things, amplified for the room to hear—not just to spectate, but to absorb.

          On stage once more, there is an air of extravagance in the way he rummages through his hair, the way he strums long and taut fingers against the string of his guitar, a desperation in the twinkle of his eyes, and a mystery on his lips—a mystery you continually solve with your lips against his, with your hands in that hair, with your grip fixed on his sparkling neck—Choi Hyunsuk is the kind of boy that might inspire a change from within. Entice your aching soul, and make you want to become the version of yourself that lives in faraway lands, lives in glorious dreams. On stage, you swore he was like Apollo.

Off stage, you knew he was something deeper.

You greet Hyunsuk backstage, when his performance is long over, but the crowd still cheers in his radiant memory. You first wrap your arms tightly around his neck, then push his guitar to the side, and pull his face downward. For a moment, you simply stare. He is dreary eyed and heavy breathed and he’s looking at you with such fondness; you gulp in the back of your throat and blink away the tears.

“I’m guessing that was worthy of a good review?”

          You smack his chest, and with a playful roll to the eyes, pull toward him at full speed; your lips hovering over his teasingly.

“Just kiss me, you moron.”

          His lips meet yours in a kiss you’ve imagined a hundred times, and still, it knocks the wind out of your lungs. You lunge deeper. And deeper. And deeper; into him.

          Over the time that you’ve known him, Hyunsuk had been the boy delved deep in his persona, overpowered by public pretense. But it is now that you understand Choi Hyunsuk has galaxies of emotion. Now that you understand, he may never have been the sun, nor the moon, but rather, someone that made you feel; made you learn. The touch of his lips against your cheek, the song of his soul mending the loosened strings of your heart; it’s now that you strike a divine realization in its own right;

Choi Hyunsuk’s love is cosmic.

And you love him to the moon and back.

 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

hello lovely angels, thank u for taking ur time out to read this!!!💖💖 i know it can be a bore to read at times, but i hope u enjoyed for the most part, because i genuinely loved writing it :’)) some of my fav imagery yet <33 as always, feedback is appreciated!!!! (pls///!)

[treasureboys]

boyfriend! hyunsuk

who?: yg treasure box’s choi hyunsuk genre: ☀️ type: bullet point

treasure map

bf! AU 

very soft, he’s a major squish try and change my mind bitch

a/n: hyunsuk has this soft-loud energy and I think that is truly precious

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners this is purely a work of fiction DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING

~ *＊✿❀ how you met ❀✿＊*

you met hyunsuk through mutual friends

...sort of 

it was the night of your friend’s birthday party 

you had to come over earlier bc her sister was stressing over the cake 

she collected the wrong cake 

“happy birthday hyunsuk!” was beautifully written in red frosting over the strawberry shortcake 

nice 

“Jennie cannot!! find out about this!” Chaeyoung shrieked, smacking the cake box lid . “I’m calling the bakery right now. Make sure she doesn’t enter this kitchen!” 

luckily, Jennie was tucked away in her bedroom, getting ready for the big night 

you reentered the kitchen as chaeyoung hung up 

“what did they say?” you asked 

She only sighed

“they have our cake and they need the other one back. But we need to hurry because the other cake is scheduled to be collected in an hour.” 

a-an hour? 

the bakery was 45 minutes away from the house! 

“I’ll get the cake. Stay here and keep Jennie occupied. It won’t be suspicious when I arrive later,” you voiced out. 

so you grabbed the cake box, flagged a taxi and sped to the bakery 

I wonder who this Hyunsuk guy is though...

I feel kind of bad for taking his cake 

you had to hug the box super tightly lest it flew around the backseat and self-destructed 

sorry if I ruined your cake, Hyunsuk

you managed to rush into the bakery just slightly under an hour

as you expected there was a young man leaning over the counter to talk to the staff 

he seemed quite irritated and frustrated 

“what do you mean you can’t find the cake? I called two hours ago to confirm my collection,” he hissed, completely exasperated

hyunsuk? 

quietly, you turned the cake over to another staff member

“We’re sorry sir, there seems to be a mix-up-oh! Excuse me for a minute.” 

the staff disappeared behind double doors 

“H-hey, you must be here for...hyunsuk.” 

damn b u gon shoot ur shot here 

the boy’s eyes widen but he nods 

“Yeah, do you know what happened to my cake?” 

so you fill him in

his reactions are to die for

“omg sis they did that? wtf spill more tea, pop off!”

he reminds me of a tea aunt lowkey

“My name’s Yedam, by the way.” 

eventually, the staff came back with the correct cakes 

“hey, you should come to the party tonight if you could,” yedam says warmly. “I’m sure Hyunsuk would like you.” 

“maybe,” your reply is short and uncertain 

but you leave with Yedam’s number and the address in your phone 

Jennie’s bday party is a success :D

no one mentioned the whole cake situation

Jisoo and Lisa encourage you to hit Hyunsuk’s party up 

“It really isn’t that far away! Just two bus stops! C’mon, I think it’ll be cool!” Jisoo cried out, beaming. 

at first, you opposed the idea but a 1am Uber ride with the girls changed your mind 

Hyunsuk’s party was still pretty happening 

*knock knock* 

“___! So glad you could make it!” Yedam smiled broadly. “I’ll take you to meet Hyunsuk!” 

You could barely hear him over the noise. “Wonderful!”

Giggling, Yedam whisked you through the crowd and into what seemed like a living room 

“Say hello to the birthday boy!” 

With golden curls and a smile that reached his eyes, Hyunsuk was the definition of charming.

He grinned and waved calmly 

Starstruck, you could only return the wave, a hot blush sweeping across your face 

You ended up sitting next to him on the sofa after Yedam insisted Byounggon move one seat down

“Hi, I’m Choi Hyunsuk.” 

*＊✿❀ kisses ❀✿＊*

wow kissing,,, something I have 0 experience in 

anyway! Hyunsuk’s kind of a goofy, cheerful, laid back ? guy 

so kissing is a normal thing 

probably gives more ‘fleeting’ and ‘quick’ pecks to leave you wanting more

dramatic about them 

“that’s enough for today!” 

he would 100% still be shy internally 

enough to keep you happy but too little to stop you from missing them 

would totally give you a cheesy goodnight kiss ugh his mind 

first kiss? Kind of spontaneous 

It was a chill day, he invited you over to hang out after school or whatever 

Just a day to relax and be with each other 

And someone decided it would be fun to use an app that randomised cute couple activities to do 

you didn’t think much of it since it was just for fun and games 

but things were starting to get intense in staring contest pt.2

you didn’t mind looking into his sparkling orbs 

brain: press his buttons 

you: send a playful wink his way ;) 

hyunsuk pressed his lips together before moving his face closer to yours 

“c-can I kiss you?” he stammered out, the nerves getting the better of him 

you were sTUNNED

LITERALLY SPEECHLESS 

IT WAS SO IMPROMPTU AND UNEXPECTED

so all you could do was close the remaining space by placing your lips on his 

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

UWU BITCH

AHHHDJSJSJDDB

quite a cute first kiss i must say :)) 

hyunsuk wouldn’t shy away from pda 

would still blush a lot 

he would even make out with you but only if you were comfortable 

And if he felt particularly brave that day 

really! likes! to! kiss! your! nose! 

and boop it 

wow why did this occur to me where am i getting this from 

He could also be big on putting his arm around your shoulders 

just a thought ;) 

*＊✿❀ dates *＊✿❀

dates with him are probably laid back too 

he’ll probably be down with anything you’re down to do to 

but he would like to introduce you to his world too 

maybe you’d take a dance class together 

or just chill in the studio 

or listen and work on verses 

boy would write rap verses for you 

Idk he strikes me as a person who would enjoy your company regardless if you’re there to do anything 

Once in a while, when he gets out from yg basement you guys would go on full-day dates 

just the whole day together 

you and him 

picnic! dates 

and 11/10 he would forget something, like a picnic mat or cutlery 

even if things don’t go as planned, he would be innovative and find alternatives 

or just act like he meant to do that lol 

would get a little sulky once dates had to end 

“but I don’t wanna goooo. :(“ 

texts a! lot!

Likes to send u memes 

ur like his bff 

facetimes until 5am if he gets the chance to 

chuckles and talks a lot 

LoUD 

can get pretty deep and serious 

He wants to be real and transparent with you 

gets more and more comfortable with you all the time 

:”) 

first date? he suggested going to a night market and stuffing your faces 

I’m gg to say you guys were close friends even before starting to date 

well, it rained that night 

he got flustered and upset at first 

but that never dampened your spirits! 

let you use his jacket as an umbrella 

did the boyfriend thing with that

still bought street food 

still ate street food 

still fed you street food 

bonus! yall sought shelter in a covered noodle stand and ended having a second dinner waiting for the rain to stop 

which meant more time spent together!! 

in fact, you didn’t even realise when the rain stopped 

but y’all bought celebratory ice cream right after 

he walked you back home and you waited until his taxi came before heading inside 

you even gave him a goodnight kiss on the cheek 

and his ears got all red and he became bashful 

“g-good...night!”

asked the taxi driver to blast the AC because he could not! stop blushing lmao 

acted all smug abt it later 

“so,,, about that kiss...”( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Hyunsuk’s a whole squish and softie 

also a full-course meal when he wants to be 

a hella wholesome boyfriend 

[sandpapersnowman]

@mobius-loop​ (!!! how are u!!!) i honestly feel like i wouldn’t be able to do the league of villains justice but aizawa and all might on a teacher appreciation day sounded good as h e l l. this ended up unreal long so it has to be mostly under a readmore

it starts with aizawa’s teacher appreciation day gift, but all might’s is the second half of the fic!

ao3 link

They’d started having teacher appreciation days a few years back; it’s good for morale as finals creep closer, and it serves as a fun distraction and a chance for students to get to know their teachers a little better. After all, they’ll be working alongside them as heroes in a few years’ time.

They have some reviews scheduled for teacher appreciation day, but Iida and Yaoyorozu had come forward the week before and asked if they could put aside a few minutes toward the end of their class to give him a gift. He’d been surprised; he figured with everything that’s been going on and all the turmoil of beginning high school, and in such an intensive hero course, they weren’t planning on doing anything.

He’d agreed, of course, which brings them all to now, huddled around his desk with just under ten minutes left in class.

“We all voted on what it,” Iida explains. “We wanted to combine praise for your abilities as a teacher and a hero, as well as sprinkle in a little humor so it wouldn’t come off too formally.”

“Kiss-ass,” Kirishima fake-coughs, but the rest of the class laughs with him, Iida included.

“You’ve taught us a lot,” Midoriya continues. “As a teacher and as a pro hero we all look up to.”

Something tightens in his chest at that; look up to, huh?

Iida removes the class gift from behind his back and holds it out to their teacher.

It’s wrapped in a plain yellow paper, the true shape of whatever it is obscured by the packaging, but the weight in his hand is familiar, and he has to hold back a small smile.

Aizawa’s amassed a collection of mugs over the years from his students. They’re a good staple, and he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy being able to put off doing his dishes another day for every cat-themed novelty mug he has, plus every one he has proclaiming he’s the #1 Teacher or with a joke about needing coffee in the morning.

“Thank you,” he says, thumbing at the tape keeping the whole thing sealed. “May I open it?”

The whole class makes a chorus of affirmative noises, all apparently excited for him to receive it. It sounds like they had it custom made, so it’ll probably be something more personal than previous years, but he’s not sure if any of them actually know enough about him to make it something personal.

There’s a small card taped to the top, so he opens that first.

Sensei,

We all want to thank you for your dedication to our class and to us individually as students and as future heroes. We look forward to continuing to learn from the best for the rest of the year.

Happy Teacher Appreciation Day!

He wonders which of them wrote it, considering how extraordinarily formal it sounds and how neat the writing is.

“Iida composed it and I wrote it out,” Yaoyorozu points out.

“We decided she has the best handwriting out of all of us,” Jirou nods, and Aizawa mentally agrees. None of them write terribly sloppily, but Yaoyorozu has such a neat, composed script that it’s always something of a relief when he realizes her homework is next to grade.

He puts the card gently on his desk, propped up so the multicolored ‘From Class 1-A’ on the cover points out toward the room.

He continues to unwrap the gift carefully, flashing back to one year where it had been taped and folded in odd places and he’d dropped it, but successfully wrangles this one out of the mass of tissue paper and ribbons.

“We tried to wrap it pretty nicely but still cute,” Uraraka points out, apparently the one behind the awkward (but cute) bow scrunching all the paper around the middle.

“I see,” he humors her, carefully untying the bow so it doesn’t rip or crinkle.

The top of the mug reveals itself first, and it surprises a laugh out of him. There’s three gel packs stuffed inside, each in a different flavor, and there’s scattered laughter as he pulls them out and examines them.

As often as he replaces his meals with these, he thinks he’ll probably save these for a special occasion. Keep them in his office until the written portion of finals need to be graded, and live on them as motivation reminding him his students are worth it to sit through the same test 20 times.

“Thank you,” he says, out to all of them, and sets the packs on his desk.

Kirishima and Tokoyami both chirp out ‘you’re welcome!’ from somewhere behind the front wall of students.

“It was their idea,” Tsu informs him with a smile. “I don’t think the rest of us wanted to encourage you, though.”

He snorts at that, wondering if Hizashi had told them to give him shit about the protein packs if they saw him with one, but does still appreciate the thought.

They all look excited as he moves on to the mug itself, pulling paper away to reveal something printed on it. As the majority of the paper peels back, he realizes it’s their most recent staff picture; every instructor and professional working at UA, most either smiling or goofing around with their coworkers, wrapped around the front of the mug.

“It says something, too,” Todoroki pipes up. “On the bottom.”

Aizawa scans the blank edge under the picture, but doesn’t see anything.

“On the bottom bottom,” Kaminari clarifies. “Under it.”

Aizawa gives them all a questioning glance, but slowly turns the mug so he can check the underside.

And sure enough.

On the bottom of the mug, only visible at an angle tipped up to drink from, is a simple sentence in bold font.

I’d rather be having a cat nap.

It’s…

His eyes feel warm.

It’s perfect.

“I love it,” he blurts out, in genuine awe and fondness. “It’s true,” he jokes, shooting them all a tired look.

There are a couple very real cheers from some of the students.

“I told you!” Midoriya beams at Todoroki, who just smiles as though he also knew it’d be a great gift and just made Midoriya second-guess himself to… Fuck with him, or something? He knows the two of them are something like friends now, just like everyone that comes within a mile of Midoriya is eventually.

“Thank you all,” he says, still smiling softly at how thoughtful they’ve been. “Don’t tell the other classes, but this is absolutely the best mug I’ve gotten.”

To his surprise, there’s a very satisfied ‘HELL YEAH’ from the back of the cluster. He’s 99% sure it was Bakugou.

All Might doesn’t know what to expect for his first teacher appreciation day. As the #1 pro hero, he already receives appreciation on a daily basis.

“None of us could figure out what we could get you,” Midoriya admits. “So we just decided to all make you cards.”

All Might beams.

“Oh, I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble. Having you all as my students is already a gift every day.”

Someone in the class calls out “That’s cheesy!”, earning a couple laughs in agreement.

Midoriya seems to be their leader in this situation, apparently still the only one out of them all that’s comfortable approaching All Might, and the rest of them follow when he stands from his desk.

They form a practiced line, which is just as endearing as it is efficient.

Midoriya hands his card over first, of course. The front says Happy Teacher Appreciation Day, and rather than writing out a note within it, he’s drawn a picture of them both. They have lightning around them, their shared quirk imagined at full power, and they both look ready to save the day.

“I love it,” he gasps. “Thank you, Midoriya! I do hope that one day we’ll see this picture become a reality, and we’ll be able to fight side by side as pillars of hope.”

(It rings false in his head, considering his powers are waning, but he’s not ready to let Midoriya know that yet.)

All Might scoops Midoriya up in a hug and the boy yelps, then laughs as he hugs back. As expected, he has tears in his eyes when All Might puts him down, and All Might ruffles his hair before addressing the next student.

It goes on like that for each of them; they’ve all prepared a card, and while most do have a note in it thanking him for his dedication or gushing about how honored they are to be training under him, a few have also followed in Midoriya’s footsteps and made doodles as well.

Iida draws them both running together. Jirou draws them in a little band, with All Might wearing black and yelling into what he assumes is a microphone. Shouji just draws six little thumbs-up hands. Tsu’s features her crouched on his bicep as he poses, both in matching frog-themed outfits, and while All Might is gushing about how cute it is, he realizes he’s going to need to buy frames to keep these all in.

Almost every student goes for a hug, as well, when All Might opens his arm after thanking them for their card. Todoroki even considers it, but holds out a fist for All Might to bump instead.

He does, of course. He knows Todoroki isn’t supposed to like him because of his father’s grudge, but that doesn’t change the fact that Todoroki is a bright and talented kid, and All Might is here to help them all grow regardless.

Eventually, every student has handed over a card but one.

Finally, hesitantly, Bakugou approaches.

Most of the class have dispersed back to their seats, chatting amongst themselves and giving Bakugou space. There’s a mutual understanding that All Might is someone they all look up to, and it might be weird to have people hovering around while you try to tell your hero how much they’ve inspired you.

Bakugou looks just as annoyed as ever, but he holds out a card, too.

“I’ve looked up to you since I was four,” he rushes out. “I always wanted to be just like you so I could save the world and help people. I still want to be like you, but now I want to be even better.”

It sounds so rehearsed, like he practiced it in the mirror over and over. He almost sounds cruel, talking about wanting to surpass him instead of being like him, but All Might smiles wider. He knows exactly what Bakugou intends to say.

“I’m proud to have inspired such a strong young man not just to be like his heroes, but to improve where they did not,” he says softly, as though it’s a secret just between them. He takes Bakugou’s card in the same conspiratorial, I won’t tell if you won’t way. “You are determined and will only become stronger and faster as your training here continues, and I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be leading a new generation of heroes toward greatness.”

The slightly horrified look on Bakugou’s face reveals he hadn’t expected All Might to say something heartfelt in return, if anything at all, and he wipes at his eyes quickly to keep a tear from falling.

All Might opens his arms to offer a hug just as he had with the other students. Bakugou hesitates again, and All Might wonders if he should let him know he obviously doesn’t need to feel obligated to hug anyone (and throw in something role model-y about consent and never succumbing to peer pressure), but then Bakugou lurches forward and wraps his arms around his waist as much as he can.

He squeezes so tightly All Might thinks this might actually be an assassination attempt, but then he’s pulling away, this time not wiping his eyes in time to stop a tear slipping down his cheek.

“Thank you,” Bakugou mumbles. “I promise I’ll kick your ass one day.”

All Might chuckles.

This dedication and talent will become the bar set for the next twenty years of heroes, and his heart swells knowing that he’s helping them reach for their full potential and further.

“I look forward to it.”

[frxggi]

[VICTON] Take A Chance

Will I ever get over Seungwoo? No  This is kinda short, kinda sweet, but also kinda lame towards the end. I wasn’t sure how to finish it off without adding another 2k words lol.  Anyways I hope you all enjoy! 

Genre: Fluff kinda?  Word count: 1,544 Constructive criticism is always appreciated,  Thank u and goodnight 

“Do you like Y/N?” The question echoes loudly throughout the practice room, bouncing off the walls and ringing almost painfully in Seungwoo’s ears.

“Of course I do. She’s a nice friend.” Seungwoo says.

Hanse shoots him that look, the look that says No, you know what I mean. Seungwoo’s face lights up in realization. His first reaction is to shake his head, his lips quirking up and a breathless laugh of “no” falling from his lips.

You had known Seungwoo for ages, having been introduced by a mutual friend, who coincidentally is also an idol. Well, a trainee, to be specific. The two of you became glued at the hip almost immediately; Seungwoo feeling as though he had to constantly look after you for fear that you’ll wander too far off and land yourself into trouble. His relationship to you has always been similar to that of an older brother, albeit with a little extra something which you could never quite place your finger on.

At Seungwoo’s halfhearted response, Hanse only tilts his head. That look is back, boring a hole straight through Seungwoo’s defenses.

“Friend, huh. I bet that’s why you always walk her home?” He asks, a glint of mischief in his sharp eyes. From behind Hanse, Byungchan emerges, deciding to join in on the conversation. “Is that why you’re always buying her food?” He chimes in his soft voice. “You’re texting her every chance you get; making sure she’s eating well and getting enough rest. You jump at any opportunity to spend time with her.” Hanse continues. “Is it a crime to care for the wellbeing of a friend?” Seungwoo scoffs, feeling his ears redden at the sudden accusations. That look, once delivered by Hanse is now crossing Byungchan’s features. “Hyung, you don’t even dote on us like that.” He informs. At this, Hanse barks a “yeah!” and leans forward. “I’ve never seen you so taken with someone. Not even your closest friends.” He says. A third attacker, Chan, now decides to join the party. As he walks over, he says, “He’s smitten. He loooooves her.”

“Guys, come on.” Seungwoo tries, but his words are easily brushed aside. From in front of the large mirror covering the wall, Subin can be heard whistling and cooing, “Aweeee, Seungwoo has a crush!”

The boys have just finished their schedules for today, so using work as a scapegoat isn’t an option. When Sejun and Seungsik decide to join in on the assault, Seungwoo groans burying his face in his hands, standing a moment later. At his members’ protests, he offers up a, “You guys really are too much.” and then he tells them that he’ll meet them back at the dorms.

The next time Seungwoo’s budding feelings for you are brought up, it’s when he and Seungsik are at the grocery store. Seungwoo is pushing a cart, while Seungsik wanders in front of him, scanning the aisles for a number of ingredients that are needed to prepare dinner, along with various items that perhaps the boys just ran out of. “You really should tell Y/N about your feelings.” Seungsik idly comments, causing Seungwoo to sputter. “What does it matter? I don’t like her like that.” He offers. “You know just as well as I do that that’s not true.” Seungsik counters with a grin. “You may not be head over heels in love with her like Chan thinks, but you should at least let her know that what you feel for her goes a bit beyond friendship.” Seungwoo only nods, a grunt of acknowledgement sounding in his throat. Seungsik speaks again, much lower this time. “And, if you’re going to do anything, you might want to do it fast. A little birdie told me that someone else has his eyes on her.” The words are murmured as if a secret, some sort of taboo concept. Seungwoo’s eyes narrow a fraction, his brows knitting together. “What do you mean?” Seungwoo asks, a twinge of irritation bubbling in the pit of his stomach. At this, Seungsik offers up a laugh, waving a hand in dismissal. “It’s none of us, hyung, don’t worry. I’m not exactly sure who, but as I was paying a visit to the trainees the other day I heard her name bounced around a few times.” Seungwoo doesn’t offer a response, his mind wandering to the prospect of a potential boyfriend he’d have to share you with. His gut wrenches and his jaw clenches, his lips pressing together in a thin line. A potential boyfriend also means potential heartbreak, and Seungwoo doesn’t like the possibility of that one bit. Seungsik doesn’t speak of the topic any more after that.

It’s the following weekend, and Seungwoo waits patiently at your favorite cafe, absentmindedly twisting the ring that sits on his finger. His coffee sits untouched in front of him. His gaze softens as he dishes up a soft smile, offering to take your bag as you unceremoniously plop into the seat across from him. Your hair is slightly askew; a result of the wind outside. You run your fingers through the strands, a noise of annoyance leaving you when your fingers are stopped by your hair knotting together. Seungwoo laughs from his seat. He calls the waitress over, placing your order for you before he silently sends her off.

He’s dressed casually; a white t-shirt peeking through his dark hoodie, a rip here and there through his jeans. The public eye is no stranger to your friendship, and you’re thankful that you can be seen in public with him while avoiding any rumors. He’s staring at you fondly, his silver hair falling softly over his forehead. You briefly admire his features; plush lips and a sharp jawline, warm eyes that could comfort you in even the most distressing of times. You enjoy him best like this, where he’s not worried about his outward appearance, and you can see the faintest hint of exhaustion ghost his features and your heart swells because despite how tired he may be, he still chooses to spend time with you whenever he can.

The waitress brings over your drink, along with a slice of cake large enough to be split between the two of you. You thank her politely before grabbing a fork and digging right in. Maybe it’s the way your eyes flutter shut when you taste the food, a small hum of contentment reverberating in your chest, or maybe it’s the lines that nick themselves into the corners of your eyes when you smile at him, offering him a bite, but Seungwoo’s heart skips a beat. You excitedly tell him about your day, and he gazes at you lovingly as you speak. Your ears heat up under the weight of his stare. Seungwoo takes notice, his chest swelling with pride.

As you talk, he takes the opportunity to reflect on his feelings for you, trying to come to terms with just what exactly they are. Of all the words in the dictionary, Seungwoo can’t possibly fathom any combination of them to express just how much you mean to him. He wants to protect you, to ensure your safety and wellbeing because your wellbeing and happiness is his top priority. He wants to hold you close, to whisper against your ear just how important you are to so many people, especially him. He wants to kiss the top of your head and tell you he loves you. And he does; he loves you. Perhaps he’s always loved you. You’re rambling about your plans for the upcoming week, and there’s residue of the cream of your drink on your upper lip and Seungwoo’s overwhelmed and before he can stop himself he’s blurting out, “I like you.”

You blink a few times, laughing. “I’d sure hope so. How awkward would it be if we’ve been hanging out for as long as we have if you didn’t?” Seungwoo shakes his head, leaning onto the table with his elbows. “No, Y/N, I like you.” You stare at him, confused, before realization dawns on you. “Ohhh. Oh.” Is all you say. Suddenly, Seungwoo’s nerves settle into his gut, and he averts his gaze out the window, swallowing the lump in his throat. His face begins to burn with the embarrassment of potential rejection.

“I like you too.” You say, seemingly in a daze. What’s gotten into him? “Really?” He questions, pleading gaze snapping back to yours. You only nod. “Yeah. I think I have for a while now. You know, I was just asked out to a date the other day,” you say. Seungwoo’s expression falters. “But I said no, and when he asked why, I had to tell him I had feelings for someone else.” You speak slowly, as if only now coming to the realization that you return Seungwoo’s feelings. At this, Seungwoo’s ears perk up, and he’s unable to hide the smile that stretches from ear to ear. “So… You like me back?” He asks. You nod. “Does this mean that I can ask you to date me now?” You nod again. Seungwoo beams at you from his seat, and you’re left awestruck by his smile. Yeah, you definitely like him back.

[akuromic]

                                    AKUROMA COULOMB                                                                                      [REDACTED]

reference.

GRAVITY-DEFYING BLUE HAIR WOOSHIE. nobody’s really sure how it works, or why it’s a different colour and length than the rest of his hair, but it’s a secret that he’s not sharing. the fact that he doesn’t want it to get wet seems to imply that it’s not 100% natural.

he’s lucky enough to have kept his GLASSES from before — they’re transition lenses. the top parts of them are barely necessary, and he definitely could get by with only wearing reading glasses, but he’s fond of the aesthetic.

BRIGHT BLUE SEQUIN BOW-TIE. if he had the choice, he’d be wearing just about anything else around his neck — but he feels dreadfully underdressed without something there, and this bow-tie was the only thing he was provided with. it matches his cousin’s shorts.

he only has ONE GLOVE. considering that he rather dislikes touching anyone or anything with his bare hands, he finds this rather annoying. not to mention the fact that it makes his outfit feel terribly incomplete.

his bracelet is set to BLUE 5. it also displays that he is not bound to anyone. considering that the bracelet also happens to be on the glove-less hand, he tends to keep it either behind his back or in the pocket of his trousers.

even though he already stands at an impressive 6′3  ( 190.5 cm )  he’s wearing shoes that add another two inches to his height. it’s excessive.

NOT PICTURED: HIS BACKPACK. he hates it, and is more than willing to trade.

NOT PICTURED: A LAB COAT. notable in that it is not his lab coat — and the thought of wearing someone else’s lab coat is enough to dissuade him from wearing it. that works out, considering that rabbit-headed individuals in lab coats seem to be roaming about, and he’d loathe to get confused for one of them.

notes.

crash course on akuroma: he’s the interim boss of team plasma and one of the antagonists in POKéMON BLACK 2 AND WHITE 2, although he’s more interested in testing his hypothesis to bring out the full potential of POKéMON than he is in ending the world. 

crash course on my interpretation: he’ll put on a show of deviating very little from the behaviour of an average person. maybe he’s a little bit smarter, or maybe he’s a little more resilient — but he’s nothing remarkable, certainly  ( and he’ll modestly turn down any attempts to tell him otherwise. )  it’s only once you get to know him, once he’s comfortable around you, once he takes an interest in you, that he starts to unravel himself. and oh, what a treasure trove of things he reveals himself to be! in fact, he has a track record of being exactly what a person wants at any given time. he’s a fragile fallen angel who needs to be saved. he’s a strong and sturdy support beam who wants to save you. he’s a lonely man who just needs a friend. he has a crush on you, and he has for a long time, but he’s been too shy to admit it. however, a a  k U ro ma n e vvv ver  r e ve   a ls  h is  t r u e  i n    t  e  nt    i o  ns    or h  is   tr   u e t ru e t                              r                                  ue——— [FILE CORRUPTED]

he’s thirty one in this verse — which means he came from mid-game bw2. not that he remembers.

he... assumes that he’s a VOLUNTEER in this situation, just because large portions of his memories from before waking up in quarantine seem to be missing. however, he can’t remember ever volunteering for anything. 

not part of the headache crew for any supernatural means — but he’s prone to migraines for completely boring ordinary reasons.

he’s a technological genius, and is much more interested in zero and the programming behind the tablet than he has any right to be. 

guidelines.

hi hello you can call me BUTTS, i’m over 18 and i’d appreciate it if you could tag #selfharm and #wrist horror/#wrist gore!

i will interact with both mutuals and non-mutuals for this verse. feel free to make me a starter, shoot me an ask, reply to a tagged open, or message me to plot!

obviously, i will only interact with muses involved in the butterfly effect group verse!

i don’t have a real life face-claim for akuorma. i’m still more than willing to interact with people who use real life face-claims, i’ll just use my usual icons. if this bothers you, please let me know!