#the surge of happiness I get when this happens is like a wave of pure euphoria | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrys-uki · 2 years

Text

Blood-stained petals, won't you pull me close?

!! HEADER CREDS TO ARTIST ;; ART IS NOT MINE !!

ANOTHER NOTE !! my ask box is open for the next week, feel free to requesting any pairing, prompt and/or setting, and i will write it for you asap! do let me know if you're okay with me posting it publicly <3

(Chapter 4) !! this is a fic done by me under the name tadashibean on ao3 !! angst, hurt/comfort, i like seeing vox suffer hehe ♡

Vox Akuma x Shoto, Nijisanji EN's 4th wave; Luxiem ♡

Happy reading~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

Vox did not know what time it was; All he knew was everything was too bright. His eyes hurt behind his eyelids, and his joints creaked with exhaustion. He wanted to call out for Shoto, when a hot flash surged through his body once more, the force jolting him slightly. He whimpered audibly, a series of coughs assaulting his throat once more, and he was too in pain to even notice Shoto stumbling through the door, reaching out the touch Vox.

It took the demon a few minutes to realise he could not breathe, his chest tightening further at the realisation. His eyes darted across the room, settling on the blotted purple figure he supposed was Shoto, trying to move closer. A warm, shaky hand came to rest on his sternum, rubbing firm yet slow circles as his chest eased up, albeit slowly. Vox shuddered at each breath he took, the sharp sting in his throat only getting more prominent as time passed.

Vox blinked once, twice. His vision was slowly starting to clear.

Vox wished he did not notice this, but there was something different with the way Shoto interacted with Vox today, and it was not a good kind of difference either. He surveyed the other’s face, acutely aware that his chest was still hurting. Unlike the night before, there seemed to be the illusion of a poker-face, one Shoto was trying to keep up but failing horribly.

What could have happened to Shoto in those few hours that Vox was knocked out?

Something hot landed on his cheek, and Vox struggled to make out what it was. He sat up, his head throbbing from the effort but he reached for Shoto nonetheless, long, nimble fingers wrapping around a delicate wrist, tugging gently.

He guided the hand to his pale cheek, revelling at the coldness of the touch and closed his eyes, nosing at the side of the palm gently, letting a low, content rumble erupt from his chest. Vox felt Shoto’s hand slacken further against his face, a clear sign the other was finally relaxing. Vox felt pride slowly forming a bubble in his chest as he fought the urge to let a smile spread across his face, and to kiss the other’s palm.

He should not — They were friends. But he so badly wanted to.

Gradually, but surely, the scent of lavender and vanilla clouded Vox’s senses, and he directed his gaze upwards to see the owner of that distinct scent, only to be met with the said owner already staring at him, a fond smile tugging at his lips as the redness of his eyes seemed to slowly dissipate.

The ache in his chest had disappeared somewhere during that whole exchange, and Vox was not sure if he should let himself indulge in the fantasy that just for that day, Shoto was his.

Was he Vox’s though?

With the way he was looking at the demon, Vox could be fooled into thinking Shoto was his.

Midnight purple eyes twinkled under the influence of Vox’s bright ceiling lights, showcasing the painting of purples and indigo and violet that were Shoto’s irises; somewhere between blue and purple but also quite…not. It was breathtaking. The one thing that made it even more ethereal to Vox was the emotions that Shoto’s eyes held captive.

Indigo streaked into something more pure, more endearing. Shoto’s eyes swirled with love and affection. A hint of desire too, was sprinkled in there somewhere, and Vox felt utterly warm, from his chest, inside and out as it spread throughout his veins, muscles and nerves, every part of his sickly body being engulfed in that beautifully fragile sensation.

A part of Vox incessantly nagged at him that what he saw was not true, that he was just too desperate for Shoto’s affection and just conjuring up false ideas and insensible daydreams in his head. Maybe a trick of the light, perhaps? But the said demon pushed it all away.

“One day,” he pleaded with himself, his eyes trained on the other’s eyes, his hand cautiously coming up to brush a few stray hairs behind a sensitive ear, eliciting soft whines from the man kneeling in front of him.

“Let me have this for one day.”

Desperation pushes man to the edge, daring him to do things he normally would not, the adrenaline making him fearless, on top of the world. But that was not what Vox was feeling right now.

There was no adrenaline in his blood, nor was there the giddiness of a sudden surge of energy. He did not feel like he was on top of the world, nor did he feel fearless, because the one thing — the one person, the one true love — he could lose was right there in front of him, taunting him everyday. But something about the way Shoto was looking at him ignited something within the fantastical being, because he had never found himself being so cautious, so careful to not hurt the other, so aware of just how the other was feeling.

Every touch, every glance, every look; it was all too much yet too little simultaneously, and something about this concoction of feelings brewing within him made him want to scream, to beg for it to stop, but it also made him yearn — it made him think what it would be like to be able to touch and hold Shoto as he wished, exactly like in his daydreams.

A slight pinch on his cheek, and Vox was brought back to reality, just aware of how close Shoto had gotten. If anything, Shoto seemed to notice that he was lost in his thoughts, and e a unrestrained, slight sheen of pride glinted in his eyes.

"Were you thinking about me, Voxxy~?"

Shoto's melodious voice purred out, the vibrations travelling straight to Vox's heart, and the demon did not know if 400 years of living and roaming this planet had given him experience to handle such a sensual voice.

Slight stuttering, and a quick nod against soft hands was all it took for Shoto's smile to spread impossibly wider, cheeks plumping up further from the notion.

Vox felt his stomach churn violently, butterflies rapidly fluttering their wings against his stomach at the thought that Shoto was happy because he was on Vox's mind, and he nuzzled further into Shoto's hand.

His ears were getting impossibly warmer — so warm that Vox was sure he was having a fever. He inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut when suddenly, the lukewarm touch on his cheek disappeared.

Vox let out a disappointed whine at the loss of contact, and opened his eyes immediately, ready to berate the other for taking his hand away when he saw a smooth palm in front of him, faced up.

Shoto tilted his head expectantly, and Vox felt the wind rush out of his lungs, the warmth in his ears imperceptibly increasing.

He gingerly placed his hand in Shoto's, waiting for the denial and the pushing, but it never came. Instead, soft, gentle fingers intertwined with his, barely enveloping his hand, tugging him gently.

"What?" He croaked out, throat dry from the lack of use and continuous coughing, internally cringing at the way his voice sounded.

Shoto only looked back at him, tugging his hand more insistently than before, effectively pulling the demon out of bed, causing the latter to stumble slightly, his hand tightening around Shoto’s as the purple-haired man chuckled warmly, the action making warmth spread from the demon’s head to his toes.

Vox would have believed that their whole interaction did not affect Shoto as much as it did him, but the red tint of the other's ears indicated otherwise, and Vox was sure he was about to die from the way his heart was erratically pounding at his ribcage at that observation. It would not be a bad way to go, he supposed, his mind wandering as he let himself be dragged by the shorter male. He trusted the other anyway. It is Shoto after all; there was no need to worry.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice spoke up, quietly rumbling from within his very core.

"You didn't cough up any flowers today."

And Vox found himself wondering if this would be the first of many more such instances, where Shoto would be next to him, holding his hand like so and he would not be coughing up those wretched, alluring, captivating, blood-stained petals.

—————————————————————

yaaay fluffy chapters !!!!

next up~!

I have a banger luca x ike fluff/angst/semi-smut (?) fic coming up

friends have been telling me to make it like a series, with each chapter being posted as oneshot on its own, that could be read as a stand-alone piece and as a prt of the series, if you get what i mean

this fic's chapter 5 will come along too!!!

maybe i'll make chap 6 really angsty just cause i can

or maybe i'll do it for chap 5,,, hehe

Happy stargazing, readers~! till the stars conjoin us again~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

48 notes · View notes

mountainofgoats · 3 years

Text

Back in the Saddle

Midvale, a few weeks post-Phantom Zone. In an attempt to remaster the powers Kara spent months without, she and her two most important people make a road trip home to test her flight.

Or, I just want Kara to be able to fly for the joy of it the way Clark did in Man of Steel.

Read with “Flight” by Hans Zimmer playing. You won’t regret it.

/////

Lena knows the moment Kara emerges from the house up on the ridge. Alex’s eyes flick up, back down, then up again in quick succession. An entirely smug grin alights her face before she pointedly looks back down at her tablet.

“We’re going to have to have a talk about your affinity for making my sister new suits at some point, Luthor,” she says.

Lena feels her face heat up. “No idea what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Lena scoffs. “She needed a new one,” she hisses at the smirking elder Danvers. “The one she had was wrecked and there was no fixing it.”

“Agreed,” Alex allows, smile growing. “But this is what? The fourth one you’ve made for her?”

“One other! With upgrades!”

“Mmhmm.” Alex types a few more things into the tablet. Pulls out a USB and plugs it into the side. “Sure.”

Lena feels her face go hot. “What are you insinuating, Alex?”

Alex shrugs. “Not insinuating anything,” she says. She glances back up and smiles some more. “Just thinking you’re making a habit of making suits for Kara and I kind of appreciate it.”

At Lena’s questioning look, Alex elaborates. “Winn made her first one,” she says. “And yeah, it did the job, but it was-“ she waves her hand in a so-so gesture, wincing- “not the best. Prone to wardrobe malfunctions.”

Lena snorts. “Patriarchy.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Alex agrees with a playful two finger salute.

After a shared grin with Lena, her eyes travel back to where Kara must have made it down to the beach. “They’ve all protected her, the suits you’ve made,” Alex says. Her voice has gone quiet. Gone is the light teasing. She holds Lena’s eyes for a moment. “And I... can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

Lena’s eyes suddenly mist over, and her throat works against the lump that forms there.

Alex looks pointedly back down at her tablet, where she pulls up a video feed from one of the comm pieces resting on the boulder she’s made her impromptu HQ desk. She clears her throat. “I’ve never made sure you knew that. So. Now I’m telling you.”

Lena absolutely refuses to cry, but fuck if it doesn’t take a Herculean effort. She wrestles with the hot gratitude and affection boiling in her chest as Alex fiddles with the settings on the camera feed.

Alex glances up again, and her smile turns warm in a way Lena knows is reserved only for her sister. “Looking good, sis,” she calls. “Little weird without the cape, though.”

“Thanks! Lena made it!” Kara chirps from behind Lena. “Even has pockets! And yeah, I was going to ask you about that. Is there no cape, Lena?”

She barely dares to turn, but Alex is giving her one hell of a challenging look, and she’s still a Luthor.

And Luthors never back down from a challenge.

She turns her face just enough to look over her shoulder and immediately curses that particular Luthor trait.

Sure, she made the suit. But that in no way prepares her for what it looks like when it’s wrapped around Kara. The dark blue, almost black throws her golden hair, shimmering in the late sun, in sharp relief. The smooth material sweeps over the dips and curves of her shoulders and biceps, the dip in the high collar exposing slightly below the hollow of her throat. She approaches silently on the sand, the soft and supple deep maroon boots smooth and soundless. Lena had left the pants a little loose, a little more comfortable, but that did nothing to hide the muscle that bunches and releases rhythmically as Kara walks across the sand.

And she’s looking quizzically at Lena. Head slightly titled, blue eyes somehow even bluer against the darkness of her suit, the blue and red accents, and the reddish tint of the setting sun.

Lena rips her eyes away from the subtle dips in Kara’s abs and desperately wracks her brain to remember what question was asked of her.

“Cape, Lena?” Alex prompts with a shit eating grin.

“Right,” Lena coughs. She turns fully to meet Kara, hand already pointing to the belt slung diagonally across Kara’s chest. “I figured, since you’re not wanting to be in the limelight just yet, I should make it a bit more understated,” Lena explains. “Did you see the crest on your left shoulder?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “I like that it’s so small.”

“Press it.”

Kara’s eyes dance with curiosity, not leaving Lena’s, as she reaches up to press on the tiny S affixed to the dark brown leather.

At the press of Kara’s fingers, the nanites immediately begin to crawl across the suit, gathering and extending down her back and around her chest in a long, deep maroon cloak. Kara lets out a startled sound of delight, swishing the thick material and stroking at it with near reverence.

“More nanites?” Alex smirks.

Lena shrugs, tossing the elder Danvers a smirk of her own. “I mean, I do have an MO at this point. No sense in ditching it.”

“It’s great!” Kara exclaims. She swishes the cloak again, grinning happily. “I can put it away if I want! This would have saved me so many headaches years ago!”

She bounces over to Lena and wraps her up in a warm hug. “Thank you,” she says quietly. Only for Lena. “I love it.”

Lena squeezes her around the back, hands fisting in the material of the cloak, feeling herself flush with happiness. “I’m glad,” she whispers.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea, Lena,” Alex says as they break apart. She’s back at the tablet, tapping and looking over some sort of read out. “She was always complaining how the cape got in the way.”

Lena arches an eyebrow at Kara. “What about your cape tricks?”

Kara grimaces. “Much less useful than I was led to believe.”

Alex snorts. “Understatement of the century,” she mutters. “Okay,” she strides over to a Kara and gently fits a comm around her ear. “That has a GPS and camera built in. We’ll be able to see what you see, know where you are, monitor vitals-“

Kara makes a face. “Wait, if you can track me, couldn’t someone else?”

Lena shakes her head. “The crest has signals built in to interfere with radar. Any signal that’s not Alex’s will get scrambled to cloak you.”

Kara surges forward for another hug, and over her shoulder Lena sees Alex smile with an exasperated shake of her head.

“Always protecting,” she mutters.

“What, Alex?” Kara asks as she lets Lena go and takes a step back.

“Nothing,” Alex says. She inputs a few more commands on the tablet, then looks up at Kara. “So. You ready?”

Lena glances over to Kara for what she thinks will be a quick confirmation.

But in those brief seconds, Kara’s easy smile and eager brightness had darkened.

In the red glow of the sun, she stands with her face tilted upward. She gazes at the sky with unfiltered longing, but her hands are trembling. Her whole being quivers, wound tight like a spring, as if she wants nothing more than to hurl herself up to the clouds. But there’s a tightness in her eyes, something there that just... won’t let her. She just stands there, shaking, looking up with haunted eyes.

Alex reaches out, rests a hand on Kara’s forearm. “Hey,” she murmurs. “You don’t have to do anything crazy. Whatever you’re ready for is all you have to do. The rest will follow.”

Kara nods, but still she hesitates. “But what if- what happens if I can’t- I mean-“

“I caught you floating in your sleep two nights ago,” Lena says gently and Kara’s eyes - desperate, scared eyes - whip to hers. “You can do this. But only if you’re ready to. Okay?”

The near manic desperation in Kara’s eyes cools as they hold each other’s gaze. She squeezes Alex’s hand, takes a breath, and nods resolutely.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, giving her shoulders a shake. “I’m good. I’m okay.”

Alex squeezes her arm, then lets go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Kara has her eyes on the sky again, gives her shoulders one more fortifying shake. She flexes her hands, rubs them on her pants once. She glances over at Lena and seems to brighten at the reassuring smile Lena gives her.

“Okay,” she breathes. “Here goes nothing.”

She stills, closes her eyes. Breathes in deep, then lets it out slow.

She breathes once more, the tense lines of her face relaxing.

Silently, her feet leave the sand.

Alex reaches over for Lena’s arm and grasps it tightly.

Eyes still closed, Kara rises higher in the air, straight up. She turns in gentle circles as she ascends, up and above the ridge.

Alex is looking over the read-outs on the tablet, eyes darting back and forth with near frantic energy. “Looking good so far, Kara,” she says distractedly. “Vitals are good. You’re at a hundred feet now.”

“Feels good,” comes Kara’s voice through the comms. “I’m not even trying.”

Alex’s smile is so proud Lena wants to cry. “That’s good, kid. That’s so good. Two hundred feet now.”

Alex is still gripping Lena’s arm painfully tight, but she’s rocking up on her toes happily, shooting Lena fervent looks of pure joy.

“Knew you could do it, Kara,” Lena says into her own comms, taking Alex’s hand away from her arm but keeping ahold of it. She squeezes as tight as her own bubbling pride allows.

Kara’s finally in the air. She’s flying. It’s one more step closer to conquering the giant mountain they’ve been climbing since she got back.

“How high now, Alex? I’m not looking.”

Alex glances at the screen, then up towards where Kara is becoming a dark dot among the clouds. “A thousand feet. Still feeling good?”

“Yeah. Really good, actually.”

“Have you opened your eyes yet?” Alex’s voice is teasing.

“No. What if I’m suddenly afraid of heights?” Her voice is childishly whiny, drawing a chuckle out of Alex and Lena.

Lena glances down at the video feed from Kara’s earpiece and has to stop herself from gasping.

“Kara, I think you should open your eyes,” she says slightly breathlessly.

“I’m gonna fall if I do,” comes Kara’s tight reply.

Alex is also staring at the camera feed, watching as the view of the water recedes farther toward the bottom of the screen as Kara rises higher and higher. “Kara, you want to see it,” she says. “Trust us.”

Lena knows the exact moment Kara opens her eyes. There’s a tiny gasp through the comms, and the camera arrests in place. Locked on to the brilliance of the shimmering water, the watercolor of the clouds in the light of the setting sun.

For a moment, Kara hangs motionless in the air.

Alex is anxiously tightening and loosening her grip on Lena’s hand. Looking up to where Kara is barely a speck in the sky, back to the camera, then back up again.

“Kara?” she says, a small break in her voice. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” comes Kara’s breathless voice. “Yeah, no, I’m good.”

There’s another moment of silence, then “It’s breathtaking. I... I’d almost forgotten-“ her voice cracks, and she clears her throat -“How beautiful this planet is.”

Alex squeezes Lena’s hand so tight it hurts, and Lena brings her free hand to grip at Alex’s forearm.

Alex sniffles, swipes her eyes against her shoulder. “It has its moments,” she rasps.

For a few long moments, they three stay silent. Lena and Alex on the ground, clutching at hands and arms in barely restrained joy with the waves lapping nearby.

And Kara, so high they can’t even see her, hanging in midair. Silent save for her gentle, easy breathing and the wind whistling around her.

And then, so suddenly both Lena and Alex flinch, she huffs a breath.

“Wanna see how fast I can get around the world?”

Alex barks a laugh, exchanging a fond and relieved look with Lena. “Your record is what? Thirty four seconds?”

“I can beat that,” comes the cocky reply.

And god, she sounds so happy.

Alex scoffs. “If you say so.”

Lena pulls out her phone and sets up a stopwatch. “On my mark, then?” she says.

“Don’t break anything, Kara,” Alex warns, though there’s no bite in her voice.

“And don’t break that suit,” Lena chimes in.

Kara’s voice has a tiny edge of Supergirl - the first since the Phantom Zone - when she replies. “Nothing’s getting broken here except the sound barrier.”

A shiver shoots down Lena’s spine. She does her best to ignore why.

“In three, two, one-“ she taps her phone- “Go.”

BOOM!

The noise vibrates through Lena’s chest. High above, the sky seems to part for Kara as she rockets towards the sun, leaving a trail in her wake.

Lena and Alex crowd the screen, watching wide-eyed as the ocean zips by far below, clouds whipping past, the camera quivering with the breakneck speed.

“Oh my god,” Lena murmurs almost by accident.

On the screen, a dark line of land rapidly approaches on the horizon as Kara hurtles toward it.

“That’ll be Japan,” Alex mumbles. She checks the read-outs and nods to herself. “Vitals are still good. Heart rate’s a little elevated, but considering-“ she gestures to the screen with a wry smile.

Lena nods, barely holding back happy tears.

On screen, Kara slows just enough for the sound to come back. Air whistles through the comms, her breathing slightly labored, and she ducks her head to watch the cities blink far below.

She won’t break her record by slowing like this, but Lena doesn’t mention that. And neither does Alex. They just watch as Kara picks up speed again, camera angling strangely as she dives.

She shoots west, weaving in huge slalom turns. The camera angles and tilts as she looks across the water, across the trees and grasslands and mountains as she passes them. Cities and towns flash past like street lights on a highway.

On the screen, her GPS tracks her through the rest of Asia, across India and into Africa. It’s a far cry from the speed she’d shot off at, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she dips and rolls through the clouds, hand outstretched as if to catch the swirling vapors.

Once she reaches the distant coast, Kara dips so low her hand reaches out to skim the water. She sails over the waves, fingers dragging, until she finds a pod of dolphins playing in the white water. For a moment, she flies just above the waves with them as they leap and dance.

The camera jerks toward the sky, and Kara gives a loud, delighted whoop as she shoots upwards. Spinning and spinning so fast the camera is blurring with the speed.

And through it all, Kara is laughing. Huge, joyous belly laughs, arms outstretched and head thrown back as she sails back into the clouds.

At 40,000 feet, she slows her ascent. Like a ball tossed in the air, she hovers at a stop for a split second before she starts to plummet. She turns, belly down and arms outstretched as the ocean rushes to meet her.

Still laughing with outrageous joy.

“God I missed that,” Alex murmurs. Her voice quivers and breaks.

Lena doesn’t take her eyes away from the screen. She doesn’t want to miss a single moment of this. But she does give Alex’s hand a squeeze in agreement.

Because hearing that laugh, being here and watching as Kara rolls and dives through the air, is healing pieces of Lena’s heart that she didn’t think would ever even scab over.

Kara’s joy is infectious, like it had always been. And Lena finds that she’s soaking it in like a woman parched.

On screen, Kara shoots off with another mighty BOOM. Her GPS shows her hurtling across the US at breakneck speed.

“Not even close to her record,” Alex laughs wetly. “Guess we’ll have to try again later.”

Lena swipes her hand under her eyes with a chuckle, catching tears that neither of them really acknowledge.

And seconds later, Kara lands with a muffled thump. Sand flies under her feet, and the ground trembles.

But her face is flushed, smile radiant, eyes glistening with tears.

Alex takes a step toward her, but pauses. “You okay?”

Kara gives a sobbing laugh, gestures helplessly with her hands. But her smile is wondrous.

Alex surges forward and wraps her in a tight hug. Kara clutches back, hands buried in her sister’s jacket and face pressed against her shoulder.

After a moment, one hand reaches out, fingers wiggling invitingly.

Lena takes that hand in both of hers and holds on tight. Over Alex’s shoulder, Kara’s eyes crinkle with her smile, sparkling and overwhelmed. She squeezes Lena’s hand, then tucks her eyes against her sister’s shoulder with a huge breath.

In a way, Lena feels as if they’re all breathing that same breath of relief.

“I wanna go again.” Kara’s voice is muffled adorably against Alex’s jacket.

Alex chuckles and rocks Kara back and forth happily. “We can stay out here as long as you want.”

Kara nods. “’Kay,” she says. But she holds on to Alex tighter, fingers digging into her jacket. “But in a minute, okay?”

Alex nods. Presses a kiss to the side of Kara’s head. “In a minute.”

And that seems to suit all three of them just fine. No one’s quite ready to let go yet.

/////

I'm a sucker for the angst just as much as the next nerd but I needed them to just... be happy and together. Just for a moment.

#let them be happy for a minute #let kara fly for the joy of it for once #lena's thirsty #and alex is smug about it #everyone gets a hug #I wrote dis #supergirl #danvers sisters #kara danvers #alex danvers #lena luthor

846 notes · View notes

dreamerstreamer · 4 years

Note

Hi!!! Can I request a dreamteam x reader where they see her as a little sister (I’m a whore for cute platonic fics what can I say) and she either gets sick or injured when they are all together somewhere(vidcon, dream + sapnaps place in florida, whatever you want). And it’s just full of protective big brother figures and fluff? Thank you sm!! Also, you can do it as a drabble, head canon, or imagine, whatever sparks inspiration or you are in the mood to write. Thank you again!!

the moment you meet the dream team

they almost immediately adopt you as one of their own

“we’re keeping her,” sapnap says the moment you disconnect from the call, his gaze firm

while george nods, clay’s lips quirk up into a fond grin. “for sure—she reminds me of my sister.”

just like that, an instant friendship is formed between the four of you

clay’s mischief kicks into overdrive when he’s around you, and he just loves to tease you

if only to watch you splutter and bury your face in your hands

“aw,” he croons between wheezes, “are you embarrassed, [y/n]?”

you whine into your headset, and he only laughs in response—you really are too cute

while he likes teasing you, he loves to dote on you more

always shipping presents off to your house with handwritten notes

together, the two of you just love to play pranks on george every chance you get

george will grumble and groan, cursing at dream while you giggle at his red cheeks, hot with embarrassment

but he’ll never get mad at you

the instant you pout at him with those puppy dog eyes, he just melts

“just—” he sighs, ruffling a hand through his hair. “—just don’t do it again, okay?”

you smile, but you never quite promise him

it’s not like he’ll yell at you, anyways

sapnap, on the other hand, loves to mess with you

if he isn’t annoying you on minecraft, he’s poking fun at you every waking second of the day

“hey, hey [y/n], hey, listen, pay attention, [y/n], hey—”

“what do you want?” you snap, frowning at him with puffed cheeks

he shoots you a cheeky grin in return, a devilish gleam flashing across his gaze. “you’re smelly.”

really, it’s like you’ve gotten three new brothers

and in a way, you have

when the four of you all finally meet for the first time

it’s an absolute mess

you oversleep and miss your flight, waking up to a barrage of missed calls from the three of them

soon enough though, you're stumbling into one airport and running out of the next

the three of them stand at the gate waiting for you, a big cardboard sign with your name scrawled across the front in messy, chunky letters

it makes you laugh, and you throw yourself into their arms, your heart swelling in your chest

the drive to the house you all rented is full of bickering and chatter, but when you ask what you guys are going to do tomorrow, the car falls silent

clay grins, his emerald eyes gleaming like stars in the rear view mirror.

“oh, just you wait and see, princess.”

the next day, you’ve got your face pressed up the car window, your lips parted in awe

of course you guys would go to disney world

not that you’re complaining or anything—especially not when clay’s the one paying

you convince them all to buy the iconic mickey mouse ears and wear them with you

and no matter how much he complains about how dumb they look, you don’t miss the way george smiles at the reflection of his ears when you pass a window

you guys are dead-set on doing the four parks challenge, pointing out every ride on the map as you travel from spot to spot

at one point, you all stop for a bathroom break, and you find yourself sitting on a park bench patiently waiting for the boys to come back

you’re flipping through the map when a gust of wind suddenly breezes past you, pushing the map out of your hands and into the open air

in a flash, you’re stumbling up from the bench and rushing through the crowd, chasing after the map

you weave in and out of waves of people, your eyes glued to the soaring page with your arm outstretched

your fingers are about to grab onto the fluttering paper when someone bumps into you from behind, sending you careening to the side

your weight comes crashing down on your ankle as you land on the ground with a thud, pain shooting through your leg and up your insides

tears spring to your eyes as you bite back a muffled whimper, rubbing at your ankle

it must be sprained, you think distantly to yourself

you look up, the crowd surrounding you almost overbearingly as you wince, pain wracking your body

where am i? where’s clay? and george, and sapnap?

you shift your foot, another pang of pain surging through you, and your watery vision blurs even more

you’re about to burst into tears when a hand grips onto your shoulder, familiar and warm

you whip around, sapnap’s concerned gaze scanning your face

behind him stand clay and george

clay’s hands are balled into tight fists at his side, fury rippling across his features

next to him, george’s usually unimpressed expression has shifted to one of pure panic, his eyes wide

“what happened to you?” he asks, his eyes dropping down to your throbbing ankle

at your side, sapnap’s hand squeezes your shoulder ever so gently. “did you sprain your ankle? how badly does it hurt? ar—”

clay cuts him off with a low voice, stormy and full of rage

“who did this?”

your eyes shoot wide open, and you shake your head at him. “it’s no biggie. i was just being dumb, then someone bumped into me.”

when clay’s eyes flash darkly, more words rush out of your mouth. “they didn’t mean to! it was an accident, i promise.”

you reach a hand up toward him, tugging at the hem of his shirt with a pleading look. “please don’t be mad.”

there’s a beat of silence, then clay sighs, shaking his head with a whisper of a smile.

“well, i guess we lost the four parks challenge then, huh?”

you offer a bashful smile as george laughs, rolling his eyes at clay. “that’s the least of our worries right now, dream. let’s just get [y/n] home safe and sound.”

sapnap gets to his feet, crouching in front of you with an easygoing smile, gesturing to his back. “hop on.”

with george’s help, you climb onto sapnap’s back, pressing your check against his shoulder with an apologetic frown, regret tugging at your lips

“sorry this trip didn’t go like we planned.”

the fingers wrapped around your left thigh tap gently against you, reassuring and firm

“don’t be so hard on yourself,” sapnap says gently

your eyelids flutter shut, and while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his voice

“we’re just happy to have you here.”

1K notes · View notes

plsimsuchasimp · 4 years

Text

cheating.

part 2 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: one (1) curse word, cheating, brief implied sex, angst, hurt/comfort, fighting

Wc: 1.8k

NOT PROOFREAD!

a/n: i’m so sorry for this angst but i had to do it for y’all... didn’t have it in me to write a happy ending, maybe later.

The rain was pouring down, clattering against the roof of the gym. You, sitting against the wall in a corner by the benches, watched Suna’s team play, smiling slightly at the way they seemed to seamlessly move together. Your boyfriend looked concentrated, green eyes flickering from one player to another.

His phone buzzed beside you, and you picked it up, intending to set it to Do Not Disturb so you could do work, but the notification caught your eye.

“Hey!” It read, “it was so good to meet you >;) you made me feel good <3″

Instantly, your heart drops into your stomach. Silently willing for the notification to disappear, your eyes cling to the screen as yet another popped up. “I miss you babe, we should do that again”

Your eyes begin to burn, trying to deny the obvious truth of what you saw in front of you. Suna Rintarou had cheated on you, and from the looks of it, with a stranger. You swallow, hard, as the lump in your throat grows and tears begin to form in your eyes. No wonder he’d been overly affectionate in the past week, he probably felt guilty.

What hurt most wasn’t that he didn’t tell you, pretended that everything was fine; no, it was the realization that you just weren’t enough for him. All the time you’d spent on him, everything you’d done, the words of confirmation and the countless amount of love and affection you’d given him, it all wasn’t good enough.

You were bad enough for him to seek loving in a stranger’s arms.

Clicking the phone off, you put it down and stared into space for a moment, fighting the tears that threatened to spill onto your cheeks at any second. Practice was wrapping up, and you couldn’t face Suna right now. Luckily for you, he was on cleanup duty this week, so he had to stay late.

Trying to shake the rigidity out of your limbs, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag, not taking the time to organize them so they all fit. Head down, you headed for the door, hoping that Suna wouldn’t look over. Opening the door, you were faced with another harsh realization: It was raining and Suna was supposed to drive you home. That wasn’t happening today, for sure. Glancing around, you spotted Atsumu pulling his umbrella out of his bag, and rushed over to him.

“Hey Atsumu,” you said, attempting to keep your voice steady, “Can I catch a ride with you?” He was going to ask why, when Suna had a perfectly good car, but then he caught a glimpse of the tear streaking silently down your face and decided it might be better to wait until later.

Unusually serious, he agreed and put a comforting hand on the small of your back as you two hurried out of the door under his umbrella. Opening his car door for you, he let you in and then went over to the driver’s side, sliding in and turning on the car so it would warm up.

Stealing the occasional look at you, he noticed you were shaking and turned up the heat in the car although he was warm from volleyball practice. He started driving, sensing that you didn’t want to talk. Jaw clenched, he drove in silence for a couple minutes, then dared to speak.

“Hey, are you okay?” Hearing sniffles from your side of the car and seeing your shoulders shake, he pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. Gulping, he awkwardly reached out a hand to pat you on the back, but this only made you cry harder.

Looking up to face him, tear streaks staining your cheeks, you tried to stop shivering from shock. “S-Suna,” you mumbled, fighting to keep your voice from completely breaking, but another sob escaped before you could get anything more out.

“Wha’? Suna what?” he prodded, brow furrowing in concern. You rarely cried, so he knew this was something really serious.

“Suna c-cheated on me.” The last couple of words were whispered, your voice breaking, and Atsumu’s mouth dropped open. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Your relationship with Suna had always seemed perfect. He’d seen the way Suna looked at you, his eyes soft, seen the way his behavior changed around you, seen his eyes light up whenever you smiled. This wasn’t possible.

He opened his mouth, shutting it again when words failed him. You were hunched in the passenger’s seat, shaking so hard he could hear your elbows accidentally hitting the car door. Without a second thought, he took his sweatshirt off and covered you with it, hoping that it would warm you up at least a little bit.

“I- I’m so sorry,” he muttered, unsure how to comfort a clearly distraught you. As soon as your shudders subsided, his mind turned to Suna and what he would do next time he saw him. No doubt he deserved to be beat up for what he did to you, hurting you like that, but it just didn’t make sense. Suna was totally in love with you, and it was obvious to any outsider.

He started the car again, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. “Y/N, I’m gonna drop ya off at home, okay?”

A quick nod from you reassured him, and you two drove with just the raindrops crashing down on the roof of the car. When you arrived at your house, you made a motion to give back his sweatshirt, but he just waved a hand and said “Don’t worry about it. Ya can return it to me when I next see ya.” Your lips trembled and you turned away from him, making the way to your door and letting yourself in. He didn’t leave until he saw that you were inside, then started driving back to the gym.

You shed your jacket and turned on the heater in your house, not bothering to turn on the lights or draw the curtains. Kicking your shoes off, you crawled into bed and under your blanket and let the tears come, hugging the pillow that smelled too much like Suna.

Meanwhile at the gym, Suna was just finishing up and wondering where you’d gone to. The guilt of his mistake still hung with him, and he was looking to take you out to dinner tonight and spend some more time with you. However, when he saw his phone laying faceup, the bold words in text still plainly on the screen, he knew that you’d found out, and his heart contracted. Sinking to his knees, he struggled to breathe through the upcoming panic. He was in love with you, and he had no idea what had possessed him to fall into someone else’s arms for the night.

The feeling surged when he remembered that one of your biggest fears/insecurities was not being good enough, and a short gasp fell out of his mouth as he realized just how much he’d messed up. The gym door swung open, banging against the wall with the sheer force of the push. There stood Miya Atsumu, a murderous expression on his face.

“Suna!” He barked, and the middle blocker glanced up briefly before returning his attention to the phone clutched in his hands, frantically pressing the call button as it once again went straight to voicemail. The sound of your voice was almost too much for him to bear, his breathing accelerating and his head pounding.

y/n please pick up please i’m so sorry i swear i didn’t mean it they mean nothing to me i love you i love you so much please don’t leave me

His fingers speed across the keyboard, hoping against hope that you’ll talk to him. Any sort of contact. The phone is suddenly knocked from his hand by Atsumu, the look on his face nothing short of furious.

“What the fuck were ya thinking?” He spits, rage evident in the bulging veins of his neck. “You hurt y/n so badly that they had to drive home with me rather than face another second of ya.”

His words stung Suna, because they both knew they were true. He doesn’t resist when Atsumu pulls him to his feet, glaring at him and shoving him towards the wall.

“You’re pathetic. Y/N is the best person ya will ever meet, and ya ruined it all.” Once again, Suna doesn’t reciprocate, his eyes falling miserably to the ground. Atsumu’s fist comes up and hits Suna straight in the stomach, forcing the breath out of his lungs as he collapses to the floor. Atsumu looks at him with an expression of pure disgust, walking away to leave Suna where he is, slumped against the wall.

His eyes are dull, the life drained out of them, because he knows Atsumu is right. A notification causes his phone to buzz and he picks it up immediately, hoping to see anything from you, but it’s just another text from the fling. Hatred for himself and the person fills him, and he slams his phone down, allowing his head to sink into his knees.

He needs to see you, so he grabs his stuff and rushes to his car, barely remembering to lock the gym on his way out. Going ten miles above the speed limit, he makes it to your house ten minutes after you had.

Walking up to your front door, he knocks urgently, over and over again. He hears shuffling from behind, and the door opens to reveal you in an oversize sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to him and sweatpants, eyes red and puffy from crying.

The instant you see him, time seems to stop. The hurt is written all over your face, and the regret all over his. He can’t seem to move, can’t do anything besides whisper your name.

“Y/N.”

You shake your head, new tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and turn away. “I don’t want to talk to you, Suna.”

With those words, his heart shatters a little bit more. He was your Rin, your Rinnie, never Suna. “Please-” the door slams in his face and he hears the lock turning, signaling the final goodbye. He screams, pounding on your door as the panic overtakes him.

“Please! I love you! I’m so sorry, just please don’t leave me! I’ll go insane if you do!” Tears stream down his face and yours, mourning each other on opposite sides of the door. His words wrack you, tempt you to open the door and forgive him, but you can’t. He already showed you he didn’t care.

Half an hour passes, with the yells from the door fading into whimpers. Finally, you hear a car door slam, and you allow yourself to sob, held immobile on the floor.

You’re broken, and it’s his fault. His head falls onto the steering wheel, not caring that it sets off the car horn.

Still, the rain patters on the roof, both of you less than three hundred feet apart, but forever separated.

He’ll never love anyone like he loved you.

#suna rintaro imagine #suna x y/n #suna x reader #agh im sorry for this angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#atsumu scenarios #atsumu miya #suna rintarou #suna angst #atsumu x reader

878 notes · View notes

spencersmagic · 3 years

Text

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :)

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x @spencerreid-mgg @eoupe @inlovewithbabygirl @galaxydefenderjulia @username2002

418 notes · View notes

demonologistfucker · 3 years

Text

MC wants to meet some Creatures - Obey Me! Brother’s - Fluff

Gn!mc asks one of the brothers to take them to find a magical creature. This is for the main brothers, but if people want one for the newly datables just ask! I would love to do more <3

Lucifer

Is Cerberus not enough? We can go down and pet him if you like

It’s going to take some convincing to get this trip to happen. Needlessly risking the human's life just to see something neat? I think not

But your eyes were so big when you asked… fine. He’ll find something worthwhile that isn’t going to get you killed

Prep for the trip is Lucifer covering you in about 50 different protection spells.

Then you’ll be flying. Hold on tightly and try not to look directly into the wind. That’s not good for your human eyes. Lucifer’s arms are firm around you as his wings stretch out. With a push you’re off. Being lifted from the ground purely from the strength of his wings? It’s an undescribable feeling.

Soon you are out of the Devildom and flying above the Hell Wilds. A vast landscape of all sorts of terrors. From red grasses that could cut through bone, or the vast tar fields that bubble toxic gas. There is a beauty to it. Especially if you are safe above it all.

A large canyon comes into sight. “This canyon was cut by Lotan’s first rampage, and where Levi made Lotan his pet.” Lucifer begins to descend. Swooping down in a tight spiral to slip into the canyon.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then you can see something glowing. Many somethings glowing. They crawl over the canyon sides. They are nothing like you’ve seen before, but if you were to pin down to something earth like… they are most similar to sea slugs? But they have legs and bright, piercing eyes. With beautiful fins running down their back. Each looks to be a droplet of a rainbow.

“Gems left in the earth can collect enough magic to come to life.” They have no name, but they could fit in the palm of your hand. Tho please don’t touch they are highly condensed magical creatures and could shred your human body without meaning too.

Mammon

“Can I trust you?” He looks at you with surprising serious. Though he’s scratching his chin which makes it a little hard to take him seriously. When you say Of Course, Mammon quickly cracks into a grin. “Alright, give me a day, but-” He just starts nodding and runs off. Delighted with his own idea too much to tell you more

The Next day you meet Mammon outside the house of lamentation. He is already in his demon form and has a large sack in his hands. Which appears to be full of weird trinkets and a whole lot of grimm.

Where are you going? The Hell Wilds. Which is… so unhelpful because the Hell wilds are nearly infinite.

Mammon scoops you up bridle style, and then you’re off into the air. Mammon cannot stop smiling, “I haven’t taken anyone here before.” He mainly says this too himself. But looks at you with so much delighted you can’t help but blush.

This would be a much longer flight if Mammon wasn’t so good at using the air currents to his advantage. Diving to catch the updraft that send you both rocketing through the air. You’re at not risk of danger. Mammon wouldn’t let that happen to you, but it does feel like a roller coaster. When you level out, you’re facing a dark mountain. It cuts into the air with jagged certainty. Mammon lands halfway up its sides.

“She doesn’t like it when I fly into the nest. So we’ll have to walk to the rest.” If you ask any questions about what is happening. His response is a grin. “You know how Crows and I get along? Well… this is where that started.”

The mountain is only partial rock. The rest is ash, twigs and mud stuck together to keep the mountain from falling apart. Crows and ravens sit perched along the cliff sides. Some crows come flying to the mountain with fresh mud to repair parts of the mountain. The dark birds watch you and Mammon with intense, unrelenting eyes. Mammon smiles to them, and carries on with ease.

The path winds up to a crack in the side of the mountain. Mammon gestures for you to wait outside while he walks in first. You can hear something massive stir. The rustle of feathers and the scratch of claws against stone. Then Mammon pokes his head out and beckons you in.

Curled within the mountain is a great beast. It’s hard to tell one part from another because she is massive, and her dark feathers blend into each other. Her head is stuffed into the bag Mammon brought. When she sits up, she has a golden cup in her maw. The Crow Drake is stunning and terrifying. Her eyes are molten red, and her teeth cut through the gold.

The Crow Drake is the matriarch from all the crows and ravens in Hell. When Mammon was young, he fled to this mountain and was given a drake’s comforts. As well as his first crow familiar.

She reaches up to get a good look at you. Her beak pressing against you. Nudging you around and bringing her eyes right up to yours. Then she sits back and let's out a satisfied sqwaks. Mammon is about to say something when the Crow Drake leans over and picks him up by the collar of his jacket. Mammon is plopped onto her soft back, and she begins preening his hair. Making little noises every once in a while. “I know I used too much conditioner, stop harassing me” Mammon is blushing fiercely.

Levi

“Gah! Why can’t Lotan be more gentle.” Levi really wants you to meet Lotan, but it’s highly likely that Lotan would try to kill you the moment you met. All the photos of Lotan have been just… blue scales, or a big eyeball.

But Lotan is one of many Sea serpents. Actually, there are all sorts of magical creatures in the sea, and Levi is going to tell you about All of them. While he tries to figure out how to make sure you can breathe underwater.

“I am not allowed near the merfolk palace though, so... Can’t take you there.” If pushed on the matter, he will turn red and stammer about how Lotan just wanted a snack.

He found a spell! He’ll need Solomon’s help, but it should give you 24 hours of breathing underwater. Now it’s time to go into his tank.

Did you assume that he just had a normal wall sized fish tank? Of course not. The back wall has been turned into a convenient portal to The Ocean. It’s not an earth ocean, and hell doesn’t actually have a lot of clean water. This Ocean is an in between realm that connects to the abstract of earth’s waters, and all the magic that one could possibly find in those depths.

At first Levi gets distracted showing you all the fish. Look at the coral! And the trigger Fish! Oh, what a pretty anemone. He’s so caught up in showing you around that he’s not even embarrassed to be holding your hand the whole time.

Levi is such a strong swimmer he barely even notices dragging you along with him. His tail easily propels you both forward, and with great agility he can swim through the coral reefs. Then you hit the edge. Suddenly there is a vast nothing below you. Light fades below.

Down you go! It would be more unsettling if you didn’t have leviathan right besides you. Who is practically vibrating with his excitement. Underwater Levi looks so much more comfortable. Moving with such ease and without any hesitation.

You can feel the water begin to shift as something Massive approaches. Levi pauses and let's out a trill. Which is met by a deep noise that rattles your bones.

Red is a hard color to see in the deep ocean. Not enough light in that wave length can reach that far down. So at first it’s just a dark dot in the distances. Then it’s brilliant red head comes surging towards you. The water rushes around as the sea serpent begins to swim in a spiral around you and Leviathan. Leviathan is beaming and spinning around to keep up with the Serpent’s face. Letting out happy trills sporadically.

Eventually the Sea Serpent settles down and lets its body relax out. The Serpent stretches out so far that it’s back fines look so small. Yet their face is larger than a bus. The Serpent looks at you for a long while, and then it flicks it head upward. Which makes Leviathan blush a vibrant red.

She approves

Satan

Satan needs two weeks to prepare! But he has an idea. How do you feel about sewers?

“The Devildom aqueducts are actually one of the cleanest places in hell. It’s really an astounding work of engineering-” he goes on for a while about all the intricate workings. Seems there is a lot of plant filtering the waters, as well as creatures that can digest what the plants can’t process.

Satan gives you one of his books of magic. “I am their friend, but if you want them to accept your presence, it’s best to provide a gift. To show you mean well.” Unlike the others, Satan will give you a heads-up on whom you’re about to meet. Though, he gives the explanation as you’re walking towards the sewer’s entrance.

“Their name is Elos, and they are one of the oldest chimera’s alive. They were created in less than stellar circumstances, but handled it rather well.” By eating their creator. “Now they used the leftover alchemical equipment to do their own studying, as well as keep the aqueduct ecosystem in balance.”

The entrance looks like any other sewer grate in a city. Satan can easily move the heavy cover off, and watches as you begin to climb down the ladder. Satan closes the cover as he starts his descent. The sewers are Massive. The tunnel is about 20 feet wide and 20 tall. A perfect circle, except for the walk ways going along the side. A sort of seaweed is growing at the bottom of the waterways. Little fish duck in and out of the waving reeds. Further in more plants grow along the side. Some areas have full banks that cover the waterways. You can also see long claw marks running along the sides of the tunnel. As well as the residue of a recent magical explosion. “Hmm, looks like Elos got annoying company.” Satan smirks at the blast marks.

One of the original designers of the sewers was the grand wizard who made Elos. So there is a laboratory at the dead center of the sewer system. If one were to look at the blueprints, you’d be able to see a magic circle drawn by the tunnels. Well almost one. Those plans were later worked over to fix the functionality of the sewer system for the devildom. Elos didn’t want to do any city wide magic, so they aren’t really upset about it.

Outside of Elos’s laboratory is a large blue door. Painted on it are bright yellow runes that start to shimmer green as Satan approaches. Satan knocks, and it’s a full three minutes before the sound of the door unlocking. With effort, it swings inwards, and the smell of chemicals and herbs assaults your nostrils.

Satan goes about the polite introduction. Leading you into the laboratory, but it’s hard to pay attention. There are so many strange machines littered across the room, and Elos themself is a feat to understand. Their face is divided into three parts, one of a bull, one of a woman, and the other of an ape. They have large arms with hands that drag across the floor. Their fingers are thin claws of a bird. Chest comes from some great lizard not from earth. Hide legs appear to be lion like, and its tail is an arched scorpion stinger. Elos looks at you with deep eyes.

When you present the spell book Satan gave you. Elos sneers at you but takes the book. “A gift provided from someone else is weaker… but will do.” her voice is a dry and raspy. Speaking with vocal cords never crafted for such intricate language.

Asmodeous

“Want to meet some of the lovelies that help me torment souls?!”

They’re the creature Asmodeous has easy access to, so I recommend saying yes if you want to go with him

“They’re for a very specific time of person. The sort who think their beauty makes up for all the harm they caused.” A dark look smolders in Asmo’s eyes, but when he looks at you, it softens. Back to his normal bright heart eyes.

Asmo summons a cab to drive you both to the outskirts of the devildom. To… a ranch? Soft green meadows stretch out as far as you can see. Wooden fences mark the edge of the road. When you look close, you can see sigils carved into the posts.

Out in the field you can see them. Powerful horses with glimmering spiraled horns. Some are pure white with long wavy mains, but they are as diverse as any herd of horses.

“My beautiful unicorns,” Asmo leans over the fences to get a better look at them. “You’ll get to have a closer look at those in the stables right now. They won’t be too happy about being locked up, but they’re so wonderful just to look at.”

These unicorns come from more of a… vicious tradition. Their diets are completely carnivorous and with a strong preference for humans.

While you enter the stables, Asmo explains that these stables are more for necessary check-ups, and not where the unicorns stayed. They had their own dens somewhere in the meadows. Asmo hadn’t cared to find it, but it is out there.

So the unicorns that are in are here to have a thorough cleaning by one of the stable works. No you cannot help I’m afraid. These Unicorns would not be able to tell you apart from the souls they are encouraged to feast upon. All the other folk who work at the stable are non-human, and they still get bite. What’s worse is when a Unicorn decided to charge.

To make sure none of that happens, you’ll be safely on the other side of the door. Even though you can’t get close. You still can see the Unicorns very well. They are beautiful creatures. The shortest is still taller than the average horses. With eyes set more forward on their skull, and sharp angular bodies. Their legs are less brittle. With hooves that are divined into three sharp angles.

While most of the unicorns with in the stable seem antsy to leave. They all give their own greeting to Asmo. A dappled gray is the most affectionate. Letting Asmo pet the sides of their face, and rubbing up against Asmo’s head. It looks at you with curiosity. Sniffs the air and whinnies. “I know,” Asmo coos. “They are very tasty looking, but you can’t have any. I want this human to stick around.” The Unicorn snorts and flicks it tail in annoyance.

Beelzebub

His eyes light up when you ask to meet some magical creatures. “We won’t have to go too far… but we should wait till the house is quiet.” Que Mammon sprinting through the hallways trying to out run Lucifer. “They don’t like the ruckus.”

Beel asks you to meet him in the kitchen once everyone else has gone to their rooms. When you enter you find him setting out a tray with a dish of milk, honey, and some crackers. He then hands you a block of cheese. “Cut up some cubes of this.” and so you do. Beel doesn’t take any food from the tray, but he does rummage in the fridge while you get the cheese ready.

Once it’s all ready, Beel sets the tray in the middle of the counter. He then pulls out a little golden bell, and rings it. There is a beat of silence, and then doors you had never seen before open. One door is tucked into the wall trim, another in the backspace, and a third underneath the cabinets. Who comes tumbling out are small fuzzy creatures. They walk on their hind legs, and have large flat faces. Almost like a bat, but their eyes are old and wise. They are dressed in hand stitched clothes made from old table clothes, towels, or other scraps of fabric they could steal without much fuss.

“Who is this?!” One of them points pocket knife at you. “My friend,” Beel says and when he looks at you he can’t help but smile. “Hmm… did your friend cut this cheese?” Beel nods. “Next time make them smaller. Our children will struggle to hold these.”

These are House Brownies. A type of fae that can be found in most loving homes. They are a people of high standards but with over whelming big hearts. Beel is the main reason the house brownies live within the house of lamentation. No one else remembers to set out food for them. So no one else gets the help of the Brownies. Beel however often finds that his chores have been done for him, and snacks are often left on his bed side table. Small snack since the brownies can’t carry too much, but he deeply appreciates it.

Brownies are some of the easiest fae to talk with. The worst you can do is hurt their pride, but they are quick to accept earnest apologies. Not the sort of fae who will steal your name and trick you into dancing yourself to death… well… There have been a couple brownies who have done that. But the people were true assholes.

One of the brownies who is dress in a floral dress comes up to you. They give you a once over, and then start to climb up the back of your shirt. Now on your shoulder, the Brownie sniffs your face and pokes your cheeks. The Brownie’s whiskers tickle, and it’s hard not to react. But their fur is so soft, and they smell like honey and clove.

“You should have brought this one sooner.” The floral Brownie says in a sing-song voice. “They can bring us human snacks, yes?” “I want a candy!” Another brownie cheers. “Are human homes as noisy as demon homes?” “What is a cat? We hear the mean one speak of them, but never have seen them.” “Is cat friend or foe to the brownie?” Another brownie is now climbing you. This one decided to perch on the top of your head. “Human smells nice. Keep them Beel.”

Belphegor

“Okay, but you’re paying for their snacks.”

Which turned out to be nearly ten pounds of red meat. You’re also the one who has to carry the bag as you walk into the properly sketchy parts of the Devildom city. Belphegor looks as nonchalant as normal. Except for when he needs to glare at any other Demon who might start making eyes at you.

Now it’s into the dark alleys you go. Winding past business and into tight brick alley ways. The surrounding buildings seem to tower up through the sky. Blocking the darkness above. There is even a hint of sulfur in the air.

“Alright, set the meat down.” Belphegor stops at the intersection of four alley ways. It makes a small circle in the middle. The ground is dark and stained from years of murk. Moss grows up the walls, and blooms in the cracks. You set the meat down and then back up next to Belphegor. “Are you nervous?” He grins a little and then brings his fingers to his lips and whistles Loud.

You can hear them running. Many heavy feet charging down the paths. They’re coming from every direction, and now hear their panting breath. Growling and snarls as they try to be the first to reach their meal.

If you thought earthly wolves are big. You are blown away by the size of hellhounds. They keep their heads low but still stand at least three feet tall. Their teeth are as black as their fur, and they have barbed tails that whip back and forth in a frenzy. The Hell hounds are at first completely distracted by the food left out for them.

“When they’re not hungry, they’re really sweet.” Belphegor crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. Patiently waiting for the Hell Hounds to calm down. “They’re in the city to hunt down pests. Lucifer see’s them as exterminators,” One of the Hell Hounds now trots over to Belphegor. It rams its head into his stomach, demanding attention. Belphie laughs a little and starts to scratch its ears. Now content that it’s getting love. The Hell Hound eyes you. First a sniff, and then it tries to bite your clothes. “Hey,” Belphie says in a stern voice, and that’s all the Hound needed. You’re not food? Well then you must be friend too.

The message is spread through the rest of the pack, and soon you are surrounded. The Hell Hounds breath is rancid, and they will not stop trying to give you kisses.

Two of the hounds manage to get Belphie on the ground, and sit on top of him. Belphie’s face is flushed, and he only tries to get them off half-heartedly. Then accepts their cuddles and closes his eyes. “They’re not allowed in the house. So I come here a lot… you can join me next time if you want.”

A/N: Thank you @squidubus for the great idea of Mama Crow Drake preening Mammon’s hair. I luuuv uuuu

#I had... so much fun with this #mammon's mom is a Crow Drake #Obey me!#Obey me! headcanon #Obey me! Lucifer #Obey me! Mammon #Obey me! Leviathan #Obey me! Satan #Obey me! Asmodeous #Obey me! Beelzebub #Obey me! Belphegor #my writing #creatures #fantasy #I just love magical creatures okAY?!#also you with MC powers Can befriend the man eating unicrons if you really want but you gotta Earn it

330 notes · View notes

notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Tangy Starfruit and White Sea Foam (Tiger!Todoroki x Reader)

Warnings: none, unless you count ridiculous amounts of fluff and shenanigans (oh and cursing). hints of BKDK and Kami x Jirou, pro-hero AU, aged-up!AU, Todoroki’s a tiger as a result of a quirk accident that happened on the job. Todoroki and reader are in a established relationship. Bakugou gets tied to a tree, Shinsou and Tsuyu are good friends, you and Todoroki may have a mishap on your hands in the near future. Featuring the rest of class A + Shinsou.

A/N: third and final piece for @ultimate-astridwriting ‘s hybrid collab!! i had an entirely different thing written out for tiger todoroki, it was 2.5k words full of angst bc real life is shitty atm but then bam, i got an idea while eating dinner and now here we are xD. get ready for sun and sand at the beach with a graduated class A!!

Words: 7k

Golden sun raised high in the sky scorched the earth below, turning the pristine white sand into scalding hot lava. But that didn’t hold back the group of 22 from surging forth.

Happy squeals that tumbled from the girls as they caught sight of the sparkling blue waves dancing on the horizon turned into wheezing laughs and yelps as the sand burned their bare feet.

Jirou whooped, a wide smile stretched across her face as she grabbed Yaoyorozu’s hand. “Last one in is a rotten egg!!”

“No fair, Kyoka-chan!!” Uraraka huffed as she pumped her short legs to go faster and catch up.

Kaminari hollered obnoxiously, screaming all the way into the ocean as he tore right past you.

“Do not run!!!!” Iida yelled, trying to make himself be heard above the clamor but to no avail.

You smiled at him sympathetically but he merely shook his head and followed after them to make sure none of his former classmates hurt themselves.

They’re lucky to have you… You thought to yourself, clapping a hand over your mouth when the sound of him scolding Mina and Sero reached your ears from all the way across the deserted beach.

You had found this isolated spot a long time ago, back when you lived on your own and had yet the privilege of calling anyone family. This was a place of comfort for you, a gem hidden away from the greedy eyes of the world looking to corrupt anything and everything that was pure.

Here, you found solace. You found peace.

After you graduated from UA and everyone was giving each other teary goodbye hugs in the common floor filled with all the boxes of things they all had to move into moving trucks, you offered up one day. One day, if everyone wanted to come, you would show them a place very special to you.

The girls had a vague idea of where you guys were going based on the swimsuit dress code. In all honesty, maybe you should’ve made it a little harder for them, but they were your friends. And you were too excited.

Here, on this beach hidden by dense foliage and sheer cliffs, your little piece of paradise remained a secret. Until now.

“Y/N, come on!!!” Hagakure shouted, waving excitedly for you to join them.

“In a minute!!” You yelled back, looking back to see if your boyfriend was following. “Shouto?”

You spun around in a full circle when you couldn’t find him, a frown twisting your features until Shoji came up behind you and tapped you on the shoulder.

“He’s coming.” He told you, jerking his chin back a few paces the way you guys came to signal where he last saw him.

You shot him a look of relief for his well-timed reassurance. “Thanks.”

Shoji dipped his head, hoisting the basket slung over his shoulder higher as he motioned for Tokoyami to pass you. “No problem.”

A skeptical Tokoyami followed the gentle giant, muttering under his breath why the use of quirks had to be banned for today. Koda waved to you shyly and you smiled.

Iida had made it a rule for the day that no quirks were allowed to be used unless in case of an emergency. This was to do damage control and hopefully prevent a fight between Bakugou and literally anyone else.

No one had any arguments. They were all here to relax, not think about their work life. All villains and life outside of this paradise was put on hold until tomorrow came.

You decided to wait until Todoroki caught up with you, and since everyone had raced on ahead, eager to soak up as much sun as they could on the one off day they were all able to get off together, you leaned back against the rough rock and tilted your head up to the sky.

Sighing wistfully, your eyes fluttered shut as the sun’s blazing afternoon rays warmed your body.

You knew what showing them this place meant, and you knew that your friends were fully aware of it. It had been something so special to you for so long that you sharing it with them meant that you trusted them a great deal.

They were honored.

As rising pro-heroes in the world, they were constantly swamped with malicious villains, endless paperwork, press conferences and training the next generation. There was no time for rest.

But your former classmates were insistent that time be taken out for that purpose amidst all the craziness, especially Bakugou.

Down time was important. It was necessary. Or else you all would burnout and then none of you would be any good to save anybody.

This is why you chose this place.

It was secluded enough where there was no paparazzi, no cameras, no exposure and no one was the wiser. Here, you guys could be as loud and as free as you wanted because there was no one around to threaten that fragile bubble of happiness.

Heaving the bulging bag full of food and other amenities that you had swiped from Yaoyorozu as soon as you guys arrived higher on your shoulder, you wiped the bead of sweat from your forehead as it started to drip down your face.

“Shouto, c’mon!!” You encouraged aimlessly, since you didn’t know where he was. “Don’t you want to join the others?”

A faint rustle came from the bush a yard away from you and then it stilled. “No.”

You fought back a smile at the curt reply. You could almost envision that pout on his lips. Cheeky boy.

“Shouto~” You sang, fishing out a piece of his favorite food and waving it in the air, knowing that he could smell it. “I have a present for you…”

A beat of silence passed, and then two fluffy ears, one white and one red, poked out from the brush.

You suppressed a smile, knowing that would only make him leave in a huff and then his stubbornness wouldn’t let him come out and joy you for another hour. You couldn’t do that, he would miss all the fun!!

Waving it a bit more so that the enticing scent of the delectable food encouraged him out of his hiding place, you opted to hold your ground. “C’mon, Shouto. I promise, no tricks.”

His facial expression didn’t change but his ears perked up a bit and you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you. He was adorable.

Todoroki’s face fell the second he heard you laugh. “You’re laughing at me.”

You stopped immediately and straightened up, shaking your head. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” He pushed back, crossing his arms over his chest as he stepped out of the bush with stray leaves clinging to his fur and branches sticking out of his head. Plopping down on the dirt, he puffed out his cheeks.

Your eyes softened and you set down the heavy bag, keeping your form relaxed as you tuned out the splashing and shrieks of laughter coming from the ocean.

“I’m sorry I laughed.” You apologized sincerely, never once breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. “I just thought you were very cute.”

Todoroki snorted, a sound so unlike his normally stoic and guarded demeanor, burrowing his face into his arms resting atop of the knees tucked into his chest. “That’s not funny…”

Your smile saddened a fraction as a memory washed over you as though it just happened yesterday.

Trouble had a habit of finding your beloved boyfriend and last week was no different.

The villain he was fighting against had a particularly interesting quirk, since he could manifest certain traits of people into their animal counterpart based solely on their personalities.

Todoroki wasn’t put off until someone pointed out that he must have rage like a tiger, making him internalize everything and now a good seven days later, he still had yet to come to terms with his appearance and strange habits involving a diet of primarily meat.

Fuyumi had sobbed how grateful she was that you were willing to take care of her brother in your apartment until the effects of the quirk dissipated. He was arguing with his father a lot more than usual and the tension in the Todoroki home had skyrocketed.

You brushed it off, merely telling her it was the least that you could do.

Your boyfriend had a tough time adjusting to his new normal. Things were hard for him to grab and he couldn’t cuddle you like he was used to. He liked walking on all fours since he found he could go a lot faster when he used all his appendages instead of only half.

His quirk, however, had been giving him a particularly rough time and the finesse he had honed of over the years disappeared overnight.

To say that Todoroki was upset about it was an understatement.

He would do nothing else but sit in his room for days when you brought him home with you, refusing to let you in unless you came with a peace offering.

That always smoothed things enough for you to talk to him and you were hoping it wouldn’t fail you now.

Todoroki eyed the fish skeptically, tilting his head curiously when you offered it up to him once more. With the pace of a snail, he uncurled from his protective ball and padded forward slowly, raising his nose in the air to sniff.

“Hungry?” You asked sympathetically.

Todoroki hesitated a second before nodding slowly.

Your shoulders dropped and you knelt down, holding it out to him. “Here.”

His eyes lit up and his tail flicked back and forth, gaze darting to you instinctively as though to ask if it really was okay.

You bit back a smile but the corners of your eyes still crinkled and you inclined your head to give him the go ahead.

Before you could blink, the fish was swiped from your hand and as soon as your eyes focused, you burst out laughing.

There, Todoroki crouched on the ground, chomping on the tasty treat.

Wiping off the palm of your hands on your hiking shorts, you beamed down at him, offering out your hand for him to take. “Feel better now?”

“Maybe…” He mumbled quietly as he polished it off before reluctantly accepting the invitation.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you or love to shower you with affection, it was just that he was used to doing all of that when he was fully a human, not a hybrid.

It was weird.

He found himself clinging desperately to your old t-shirts when you left the home to go on patrol, waiting around for you to come back. He heard when your heartbeat would speed up whenever he was around and how your breath hitched when he leaned in to kiss you goodnight.

Ever since the start of your relationship, he had been the one to take care of you. And he liked it that way.

This dynamic was foreign to him. And he wasn’t sure if it was because he truly disliked you taking care of him, or if it was because of something else.

Todoroki was broken out of his deep thoughts the instant you came to stand right next to Iida.

Before he knew what he was doing, the edges of his mouth pulled back in a menacing snarl and he pounced.

The unsuspecting Iida landed hard on the white sands with an ‘oomph’.

“Todoroki-kun!! Please control yourself!!” Iida shouted, doing his best not to hurt him as the tiger hybrid clawed at him.

You gasped. “Shouto!! Oh my gosh, Iida, I’m so sorry!!”

Pulling him off of the other, you went rigid as your boyfriend whined in your ear. The sound was too low for anyone else to pick up on, but you heard it.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered as Iida brushed off his swim shorts, thrusting his hand straight up into the air to stop Kaminari from drowning himself in an attempt to prove to Sero and Mina that he could hold his breath longer than they could.

Todoroki wrapped his arms around your waist, mouth pressed in a thin line as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

You allowed yourself to relax against him as he pawed feebly at your sides, getting as close to him as possible.

With the increase in physical contact, the tension melted away from Todoroki’s broad form and you heaved a sigh of relief.

“Awwwww~” You cooed teasingly, reaching behind you to pinch his cheek gently and tugging until his smile morphed into a scowl. “Who’s the big scary tiger?”

Todoroki swatted you away, scrambling back until he was free from your affectionate hold on him. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t control his protective instincts and it certainly wasn’t his fault for reacting the way that he did when he smelled Iida’s scent all over you. You were his.

Of course he was going to protect you.

Baring his teeth at the tease, he hissed, tiny fangs on display.

You shouldn’t have found that as cute as you did.

Two more bodies shouldered their way past you and you grinned.

“Took you two long enough.” You smirked, wrangling your boyfriend back when he struggled in the firm grip you had around his arms to prevent him from knocking another person over.

The power couple had a habit of falling behind their ranks while getting lost in their own world. It was disgustingly cute.

Bakugou rolled his eyes angrily and gnashed his teeth. “Now you’re counting, dumbass? You’re worse than the shitty nerd.”

Midoriya ignored that comment as he sidled past you warily, forest green eyes sympathetic once they fell on your significant other. “Todoroki-kun still hasn’t changed back yet?”

He had seen the news coverage on it when the incident happened. Luckily, he wasn’t physically harmed, just physically altered, but it didn’t look like it was going away anytime soon.

Planting your hands on your hips, you yelped as Todoroki ripped himself from your grasp to tear off after Shinsou and tackled him next when he got too close to you. “No, not yet.”

Spraying white sand everywhere with his hind legs, it was almost endearing how his head raised and heterochromic eyes blinked back at you as soon as your voice sounded, silently begging for permission.

You followed his gaze to the ocean spray behind you and shook your head fondly, suppressing a smile as you jerked your head in Yaoyorozu’s direction. She would watch over him and make sure none of the other boys bullied him.

“Go on.” You encouraged softly, and that was all he needed.

While Bakugou set up the tent for him and his boyfriend so that Midoriya wouldn't get sunburnt, not that he would ever admit to doing it for that reason, your best friend eagerly asked for updates on all the latest changes.

Whipping out his hero notebook, his eyes shone with enthusiasm. “What has he been eating?! Does he prefer tuna or white cod? Oh, oh, oh, is there a difference in his quirk?! How does it impact his—”

Midoriya’s endless and excited rambling was cut off by his fuming boyfriend as he smacked him over the head and he cried out in pain, clutching his head. “Wahhhhh, Kacchan!!!”

“Shut the hell up, Deku.” Bakugou snarled, stomping past him to throw a bottle of sunscreen at you. “Put this on, shitty woman.”

You grinned, already squeezing the tube to squirt some onto your hand and slathered it on your arms. “Aw, you do care.”

“Go die.” He hissed, turning on his heel so abruptly that he almost slipped.

You refrained from giggling as he furiously, yet meticulously, took out various food items from the picnic basket that he had brought with. No matter how much he claimed he didn’t care about any of you, actions sure spoke louder than words.

Class A had graduated from UA all together and each and every one of you had secured a spot as a sidekick for many top pro-heroes all around the country. Before a year had even passed, all 22 of you had made a name for yourself, so much so that you were all almost as famous as the pros.

Midoriya was the first one to start his own agency, no surprise there. But what was a surprise was Bakugou following right after to build one right next to his.

The general public suspected it was because that area where their agencies were was riddled with violent crime, but you knew better. You all did, really.

How could anyone miss the lingering gazes filled with adoration and passion?

“Y/N, come on!!” Shinsou hollered, ducking under Shoji’s arm to sprint back towards you. “You’re missing all the fun!!”

“Be right there!!” You shouted back, rearranging the tablecloth on the ground so that it would lay flat.

You still needed to grab the bag you left at the foot of the cliffs because it was getting too heavy for you to carry. But you chanced a glance up and the glimpse of your friends had a wide smile breaking out on your face.

Todoroki was splashing in the shallows, completely soaking his fur. Jirou and Hagakure shrieked as Mina chased the two of them around, sparking an impromptu game of tag. Koda was in the middle of showing Tokoyami his seagull friend when Uraraka bumped into him.

Tsuyu and Kirishima were beachcombing for shells a little bit away when Kaminari skidded to a halt in front of them with Yaoyorozu in tow.

Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Iida and Mineta were playing beach volleyball with the inflatable ball that the former class president had brought along with them.

Dragging the beach bag behind you over to your spot that you set up far away from the shore so that when the tide came in, it wouldn’t wash everything away, you took out an array of towels, more sunblock, floaties, snacks, water bottles, coverups and a pair of sunglasses for Aoyama in case he forgot his again.

Standing up tall, you cupped your hands over your mouth and yelled, “Lunchtime!!!”

Several whoops and hollers pierced the salty air and you snorted when Midoriya almost tripped over his boyfriend’s outstretched feet in his haste to get there first.

Amidst the clamor and friends swarming around you, you twisted around, looking for your tiger hybrid boyfriend. “Shouto—”

“I’m here.”

You jumped as the low rumble sounded right by your ear, shivering unconsciously as his warm chest pressed up against your back.

“Hey…” You murmured as he mashed the top of his head in between your shoulder blades before planting a soft kiss there. “Did you have fun?”

He nodded, resting his chin on your shoulder to look over it as everyone rearranged themselves in a large circle.

You and Bakugou took care of the food prep while all your friends engorged themselves on the pre-made sandwiches and finger food.

“Oi, half-n-half bastard.” Bakugou growled, breaking the bubble of peace you two had with his temper that came out the longer your hands stayed motionless. “Stop bothering her, she’s not doing shit.”

Normally Bakugou’s crude language didn’t bother or upset Todoroki in any way, so you were shocked with a snarl echoed, washing over the group and effectively silencing them.

You squeaked as his arms tightened around you almost protectively and landed with an ‘oof’ as he pulled you to the ground.

“Shouto?!” You cried out incredulously as he unabashedly nuzzled his face into the hollow of your throat, setting his thick thighs on either side of you.

You rolled your eyes when Bakugou went rigid with anger. You could feel the heat emitting from your beloved’s glare as he locked stares with the pomeranian who was furious that the dumb extra thought he was flirting with you.

“That’s enough.” You scolded, though it was unclear who you were really talking to.

Neither wavered.

“Icyhot, you dumb fuck.” Bakugou spat, never once breaking eye contact, even as the chatter picked up again.

Todoroki snarled but the expression of rage contorted into meek sheepishness as you ran your fingers lightly through his hair, being mindful of his ears.

Humming softly, you coaxed him back down to earth long enough for common sense to return to him.

Todoroki bundled you up in his arms, tail swishing back and forth lazily as he held you. “Sorry.”

You shook your head at his apology, knowing he couldn’t fully control his impulses sometimes. “Not your fault.”

Bakugou snorted, smacking Kirishima in the face with a fish fillet when he asked to see what he was cooking. “Yes it fucking is.”

He just barely managed to dodge the shoe you launched at his head, straightening up with an enraged scowl etched on his features.

“OI!!!!”

You giggled, wiggling back to get comfortable against Todoroki’s chest. “You deserved it.”

“TAKE THAT SHIT BACK!!!!!” He thundered, smoke coming out of his ears.

“Kacchan!!” Midoriya cried out, wrestling back his boyfriend before his temper tantrum could reach the two of you.

He begged Jirou or Kaminari to help him but the two of them simply flipped the bird to Bakugou, and he exploded.

Literally.

What happened next was a flurry of the class rep containing the situation and a spark of green lightning before it was over as quickly as it started.

“I’m going to fucking kill all of you.” Bakugou seethed angrily, eye twitching from where his loving boyfriend had used One for All to pin him to the ground, tying him to the trunk of a nearby coconut tree until he calmed down.

“Ah…” Midoriya winced sheepishly as his glare turned on him. “K-Kacchan—”

Jirou’s loud slurping of the smoothie that Sato just made interrupted him and she regarded the fuming grown man disinterestedly. “Who’s up for a game?”

“Oh, oh, oh, meeeee!!!” Hagakure shouted, raising her hand high in the air alongside Uraraka and an intrigued Tsuyu.

“MEEEEEE!!!!” Mina screamed, nearly blowing out Kaminari’s eardrums as he collapsed on top of his girlfriend.

Jirou pushed him off without hesitation, fighting back a smirk when he let out an overexaggerated whimper of pain, knowing full well that he wasn’t actually hurt.

Shoji stopped what he was doing to pay attention and even the usually shy Koda looked interested in her proposal on how to deal with the tied up pomeranian thrashing in place.

Jirou raised an eyebrow slyly and everybody held their breath in anticipation.

One.

Two.

Three.

“PIN THE TAIL ON THE BAKUGOU!!!!!” Jirou screamed, holding up a sticky dart that they all regularly used for training.

How she managed to sneak equipment out of the agency she worked at was beyond you.

Jirou whooped, scrambling forward and held it up high. “I’m going first!!”

“Me next, Kyoka-chan!!!” Uraraka pleaded.

“Class A, this is highly inappropriate!!!!” Iida shouted, trying to curb the situation before it got out of hand.

Too late.

As the girls, save for Yaoyorozu, clustered gathered around a livid Bakugou, Tokoyami uncrossed his arms and pushed off of his post from where he had been keeping watch over the perimeter of the beach.

“I will join.”

You and Todoroki were both surprised, not expecting the normally reclusive individual to join in on the shenanigans.

Your dropped jaw caught Tokoyami’s attention and the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“I find great satisfaction in tormenting the souls of the wicked.” He declared impassively and a light bulb went off in your head.

“Ahhhhh,” You drew out with a grimace. “I get it.”

Back when you guys had lived in the dorms, Bakugou had made the fatal mistake of scaring Tokoyami during Halloween, making the latter let out an inhuman scream that traveled all the way across campus. Even though he had sworn to the moon and back that it was accidental, that there was no way he was actively participating in the game that Raccoon-Eyes and Flat Face had going on, Tokoyami never forgot it.

And now it was time for his revenge.

Tokoyami caught the tomato that Sero threw his way and tossed it up in the air with the most menacing glare on his face as everyone advanced to the struggling pro-hero.

“Bakugou, you ready?!” Kirishima shouted excitedly, removing the gag from his best friend’s mouth.

“PISS OFF, SHITTY HAIR!!!!” Bakugou exploded once he was free, yanking at his restraints even though he had no chance of getting out of them.

His boyfriend tied them.

Hagakure tapped Jirou’s shoulder warily. “You think we should’ve left it on?”

The other girl shrugged nonchalantly, unbothered by the rage rolling off of him in waves. “Eh, he would’ve found a way out of it eventually.”

Shinsou twirled a piece of Tsuyu’s hair that he was braiding, boredly looking on at all the chaos as they all pushed and pulled each other. He had asked Aizawa to teach him how back when he lived in the dormitory so that he could do it for Eri whenever she came over to visit.

“Shinsou-chan, are you going to take a turn?” She asked curiously, staying still so that he could braid her long hair properly.

He shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “I don’t really see the point in it.”

“Kero,” She ribbeted thoughtfully. They were the only two not contributing to the shouting other than you and Todoroki. “I see.”

“Ehhhh?!?!” Kaminari exclaimed, losing his footing as he accidentally tripped over Kirishima’s foot and crashed into Shinsou.

Shooting him a sharp glare as all his hard work undid itself, Shinsou pushed himself off the ground, not sparing him a glance as he marched back over to the frog girl to fix it.

You giggled to yourself at Kaminari’s expression of mock hurt but pursued your lips quickly when his head snapped towards the sound. Pure smile dripping with innocence, your shoulders shook with laughter when he turned all the way around suspiciously, piercing gaze landing on his girlfriend as she doubled over with laughter at something Yaoyorozu said.

Bakugou thrashed helplessly against the coconut tree. “I’M GONNA FUCKIN’ KILL YOU, EARPHONES!!!!!”

But Jirou’s boisterous chortling was all that answered his threat.

You sank back against Todoroki, sighing blissfully despite the war raging on as they started the game, Bakugou protesting violently all the way.

Angling your head up, your eyes squinted against the sun but you still smiled as soft fur brushed your cheek.

“Are you happy, Shouto?” You asked softly, quiet enough to not catch the attention of the others as they yelled for Midoriya to keep his boyfriend still.

He paused, choosing to play with the fringe of your shirt instead of responding right away. “Right now?”

Your smile dimmed a fraction, not expecting that answer. “... I suppose I meant just in general, but you could answer with whatever comes to mind…”

You trailed off, leaving the question itself open ended so that he could opt not to answer it if he didn’t feel comfortable.

Todoroki hesitated. “Where… Where is this coming from?”

Outright frowning now, you pushed off his knee so that you could sit across from him to see him better.

“I was just wondering...” You said slowly, trying to keep the defensiveness out of your voice.

Was he not happy? Why did he hesitate? Would he be happier with someone else? Did he not want to be with you anymore?

You shook your head at the insecure thoughts invading your head. That wasn’t right. He would’ve told you if he didn’t want to put work into this relationship anymore. You two had made that pact when you started dating, to break it off if one person no longer wanted it instead of stringing the other along and ended up hurting you both in the long run.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down from spiraling too far, you steadied your heart before opening your mouth again.

“I asked because I wanted to know.” You told him honestly, speaking from the heart. “Your happiness matters a lot to me, I always want you to be happy. That’s why I wanted to ask.”

Placing a hand on his knee, you smiled apologetically at him and the shenanigans from your friends faded into white noise as you tuned out everything else besides him.

Your Shouto. The person you loved the most in this entire world. The one who had been with you through thick and thin and the one who swore he would never abandon you.

He knew what those words meant to you. He had your heart.

And you had his.

Todoroki’s heterochromic eyes softened a fraction and his ears and tail drooped as he realized that he had acted so defensively out of reflex.

“I—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You reassured him swiftly, clearly. You knew what he was going to say. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Todoroki’s rapid heartbeat steadied at the loving conviction in your voice and a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in whooshed out of his lungs.

Reaching out, he laced his slim fingers with yours and tugged you closer to rest his forehead against yours.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

“I am happy.” He murmured quietly so that only you could hear him, emphasizing the soft declaration with a gentle squeeze of your hand. “I feel… the most when I am with you.”

Despite his words growing softer and softer, you still heard them and your heart leaped in your throat.

Swallowing thickly, you gave him a wobbly smile at his admission and fought to keep the tears at bay as you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips, commending him for his bravery and vulnerability when it came to expressing his innermost thoughts. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to do.

“I’m glad.” You sighed, trying not to get too caught up in the moment so that your emotions didn’t run away from you. “And I’m honored you feel that way around me. I will continue to do my best to make you happy.”

This time, Todoroki was the one to frown, his nose twitching in displeasure.

“You do not need to do anything.” He stated matter-of-factly, tilting his head in confusion. “It is your company, I believe, that makes me feel this way.”

That was an understatement. You elevated his heart and spirit in all the best possible ways. With your encouragement and kind nature, he felt like he had the strength to do anything. Including tough out this quirk incident that was causing a huge inconvenience in everybody’s lives.

Todoroki ducked his head and hid a smile, recalling to mind the time you blurted out in passionate fervor that it was not an inconvenience to anyone, let alone you, when he confessed thinking such to you.

You really were too kind to him. He was going to make sure you were protected forever and always.

Nudging your temple softly with his nose, Todoroki purred contentedly as your sweet scent washed over him like the summer breeze.

“Starfruit and coconut?” He questioned curiously.

Ever since his temporary transformation, he had been picking up more and more of what you smelled like, and he loved it. But this certain combination was brand new to him.

The tips of your ears burned red and you gnawed on your bottom lip shyly. “Y-Yeah… it’s a new lotion. I liked the scent.”

Todoroki hummed thoughtfully, another throaty purr emitting from his chest as waves lazily crashed upon the shore. His arms tightened around you in silent request and his ears perked up as you repositioned yourself so that your back was flush against his bare chest.

“It smells good.” He finally admitted, glancing down at you.

You shifted in his hold, stretching out your legs and crossing your ankles. “Yeah?”

Todoroki buried his nose into your soft hair and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he thought about how lucky he was to have someone like you in his life. How much tragedy and hurt he had to go through, what he had to sacrifice almost to the point of giving up, when he met you.

You were his light, his partner, his everything.

Vibrant turquoise and cloudy grey hues softened imperceptibly as they gazed down at you, his tail coming around to wind around your thigh, clutching it almost possessively.

“Yeah…” He whispered, allowing his eyes to finally slip shut as the sun got to him, exhaustion washing over him like a tidal wave.

And you, you sat there in his embrace, ready for whatever this life threw at you next. Because in spite of the hardships, you knew that you could face it together.

Playing with his fingers, you relaxed against him and wriggled more comfortably into his side.

“Hey, Shouto,” You murmured under your breath, fully aware that he couldn’t hear you based on the even rise and fall of his chest. “When we get home…”

Hooded eyes darted to the bag you brought with you, honing in on the small cube outline bulging from the pouch on the side. The size of a ring box.

“I have something to ask you.”

Bonus:

Everyone had worn themselves out. Night had fallen, the ambiance only broken by the occasional remark of the ocean spray as they made themselves known.

Stars twinkled high in the sky and the group of 22 felt the most at ease that they had been since they assumed positions in society as top pro-heroes.

Well, all except one.

Bakugou glowered at his boyfriend sitting a couple paces away from him. “Deku, I swear to fucking—”

“Kacchan, shh!!! I’ll never get this opportunity again!!!” Midoriya whisper-shouted at him, furiously scribbling in his hero notebook.

He glanced up once in a while at your sleeping form draped against Todoroki’s white and red fur.

He had turned into an actual tiger halfway through the night when everyone else had fallen asleep and Midoriya had no idea if it was because he felt at ease enough that he let go, or if this was another step in the quirk manifesting itself. Either way, it was incredibly interesting and he was jotting down everything he noticed.

Rolling his eyes when his fanboy of a boyfriend didn’t put down his pen, Bakugou tapped his foot impatiently. “Of course the fucking Number One Hero still is hung up over these shitty extras.”

Midoriya squealed excitedly despite the other’s discontented grumbling, clutching his notebook close to his heart. “Kacchan, it’s so cool though!!!”

Bakugou huffed, turning away but that was so he couldn’t see the pinking of his cheeks.

Alright, look, it wasn’t his damn fault the shitty nerd was so fucking cute when he got like this!!

Tugging at his restraints purposefully, Bakugou burned a hole in the back of Midoriya’s head when he refused to look his way.

“Oi, let me out of this shit.” He demanded hotly, trying to blast his way through, only to find out that the ropes were made of some kind of quirk-cancelling material.

Fuck.

“In a minute.” Midoriya babbled, waving him off as he scrambled closer to his slumbering friend to get a better look. “Todoroki-kun is so cool!!”

Bakugou’s eyebrows scrunched together at that and he frowned. “What the fuck, you shitty nerd?!”

Midoriya yelped as a red aura emitted from him. “Eep!!! K-Kacchan?!?!”

“IS THAT A CHALLENGE, DEKU?!?!?!?!”

“N-No, of course it’s not!!!” Midoriya replied desperately, waving his hands to ward him off and hopefully stop him from waking everybody else up.

That hope was diminished as quickly as it came as Bakugou roared. “WAKE THE FUCK UP, ICYHOT!!!!!”

“I really rather not.” Came the dry reply, catching the both of them off guard.

Bakugou recovered quickly and his expression contorted into fury. “WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

Midoriya approached him cautiously, hoping to placate him. “K-Kacchan, maybe we should—”

“HAH?!?!” His head whipped around towards him, wrists already chafed from how hard he was yanking against it. “YOU STILL THINK FUCKIN’ HALF-N-HALF IS BETTER THAN ME?!?!”

“I didn’t say that!!!” Midoriya cried out.

Bakugou leaned back against the trunk, vermilion eyes glinting dangerously. Every muscle in his body was coiled and ready to strike. “Get the fuck over here, damn nerd.”

Midoriya’s feet moved before he knew what he was doing until he came to a standstill directly in front of his boyfriend looking at him with an entirely different expression on his face.

One of mild interest and pure determination.

Bakugou smirked. “I’m gonna make you eat your damn words, Deku.”

His eyes lit up at the implication and he ground his fist into the palm of his hand before untying the bonds.

“Bring it on, Kacchan.”

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TWO DO?!?!” You shrieked, horrified at the sight that greeted you in the morning.

The two of them were covered head to toe in bruises and scrapes, and absolutely soaked.

Iida was the most upset. “NO QUIRKS WERE ALLOWED ON THIS VACATION!!!!”

Bakugou stuffed his hands in his pockets and scoffed. “Vacation’s over, Emergency Exit.”

“THAT IS NO LONGER AN APPROPRIATE NICKNAME!!!!” Iida corrected and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I can’t believe this.” You mumbled to yourself exasperatedly. “You guys actually sparred all night?!?!”

“L/N-san, it was awesome!!!” Midoriya rambled enthusiastically, the glow in his eyes never faltering even as Iida continued to chew out a bored Bakugou. “Kacchan was so cool!!!”

You sputtered. “This was supposed to be a vacation!!!”

“It was!!” Midoriya insisted with a determined pout and you shook your head.

“You don’t understand the concept of a vacation, hospital boy.”

“Hey!!”

Tokoyami nodded, satisfied as Iida punished Bakugou with a week’s worth of chores despite the fact that none of them lived together anymore. “Vengeance is served.”

“Anyone got any food?” Hagakure chirped while Mina whined in the corner about how hungry she was.

Kaminari was already rifling through the beach bag you brought with you, fishing out every single piece of food you had left.

You looked on fondly at them as they handled the food emergency themselves. You were lucky to have friends like these. Ones that could goof off whenever and be as silly as you were, as well as be there when it counted.

Todoroki tapped you on the shoulder with the tip of his tail, offering up a bagel he had managed to snag before everyone else emptied out the reserves. “Hungry?”

You shot him a thankful look, breaking it in half to share with him before munching on your piece happily. “Very.”

The two of you basked in the momentary peace the sunrise brought as Bakugou argued against Iida that he wasn’t even the one to start the brawl, even though it fell on deaf ears.

You bit back a smile as Todoroki’s tail looped around your waist, pulling you into his side and you laughed lightly. “Is this your way of telling me you want to cuddle some more before we have to go back?”

“Maybe.” He mused, gaze filled with adoration and humor as he fixated his eyes on you.

Todoroki blinked slowly, dipping his head down to draw your head close to his. “Y/N?”

You tilted your face up at his inquiry. “Yes?”

The depth of love in your eyes was reflected in his heart.

“Later today, if you get a chance, stop by my agency.” He requested somewhat timidly and you raised an eyebrow in surprise at the odd desire.

“Yeah… okay, sure.” You affirmed with what you hoped to be a reassuring smile to put him at ease, even though you had no idea what this was all about.

Todoroki chuckled softly at your lost expression. You looked cute when you were trying to figure out what he was thinking. No chance though, you could think about this one all you wanted, you were never going to figure out where he was going with this.

“There is something I would like to ask you.” He hinted with a mysterious smile, unlocking his grip around your waist to stroll over to Koda and help him pack up the picnic basket.

It took a second for you to process. And then another passed before you realized what he meant.

“W-Wait a minute— Shouto!!!!”

Ringing laughter was all that accompanied your cries and torrent of questions as you asked over and over again if he was insinuating what you thought he was.

In a moment of bravery, he threw you a wink. “You have to wait to find out, Y/N.”

“No fair!!!”

“Patience.”

“UH UH, YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE A GIRL HANGING LIKE THAT!!!!”

“I don’t see how it’s any different than what you pulled last night.”

“... I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Todoroki shrugged nonchalantly, aiding Iida and Yaoyorozu in packing up the rest of the supplies. “Okay.”

“TODOROKI SHOUTO, GET BACK HERE!!!!”

“Wait six hours, Y/N.”

“SIX HOURS?!?!?!”

Your wailing only made that grin on his face grow. “I could double it.”

You shut your mouth at that ominous threat. Like hell he was going to do that to you.

Todoroki smiled triumphantly but it only lasted for a second when you glared at him.

“You’re a cruel, cruel man, Todoroki.” You proclaimed dramatically, stumbling back when Kaminari took that opportunity to plop a heavy basket in your arms to make you carry it.

Todoroki’s shoulders shook with laughter at your attempt to catch yourself. You were as clumsy as a newborn deer. “I learn from the best.”

Your eyes glittered with mischief and throwing down the basket, you sprinted over to somewhere behind the rocks, disappearing from sight.

But your voice still carried.

“BAKUGOU, I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!!!!!”

309 notes · View notes

sunfleurry · 4 years

Text

Fires and Flames

Warnings: Smut, language, & alcohol.

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

I should’ve left the minute I saw the look in his eyes when I told him. I was laying with my head on his chest, my bare skin sticking to his with the sheen of sweat covering our bodies. His fingers were lightly tracing the length of my spine as we caught our breaths in the quiet of the night under the lavish chandelier he had splurged on for his bedroom. I knew he could feel my heart rate speed up as my mind fought the urge to tell him, just tell him how I felt—how I still feel—before the courage I had would slip away. So, I did.

“I love you.”

If the room wasn’t quiet before, it was quiet now as his fingers stilled and we both stopped breathing. In my case, it was because I wanted to put all my focus on his response, his reaction, anything. In his case, well, I didn’t know why he did that. I thought it was from pure shock of hearing me say it for the first time, but deep down, I knew it was because of a deeper reason. A reason that would only be the downfall of what was once considered “us.” And I saw it coming the moment we met.

________________

My friend Vi was yelling something in my ear but I could barely hear her over the loud music, so I simply nodded. She looked at me weird and I realized that nod may have been the wrong response.

“I can’t hear anything you’re saying,” I yelled.

She leaned over and cupped her hands around my ear and proceeded to loudly repeat what she said. “That guy has been staring at you since we got here.”

“Who?”

She pointed at the bar and I followed her finger until I spotted a man in his mid-twenties who was alone, nursing a cup of God knows what. When we made eye contact, he nodded his head in acknowledgement then took a sip of his drink.

He was cute.

“Should I go talk to him?” I asked Vi.

“Are you kidding me? If you don’t I will.”

I laughed. She had a point. He was handsome, what with his brown hair that curled slightly around his ears and forehead, or the tattoos that littered his arms. I eyed his clothing and wondered if there were more underneath.

Straightening myself, I awkwardly started walking towards him, extra cautious of my ankles as I hoped my heels wouldn’t betray me in front of the handsome stranger. Seeing me approach, he set his glass on the counter, and watched me make my way over. I was getting self-conscious under his gaze, but I kept my head held high until finally I was standing right in front of him.

“Are you going to ask for my number or are you going to keep staring at me all night?” My words exuded the confidence I was not feeling on the inside.

His lips twitched, the corners turning upwards. It was barely noticeable, and I had to rip my eyes away from his gorgeous green ones to see it. “How about we skip all of that and go straight to mine.”

I laughed in disbelief. “No thank you.”

The man nodded in understanding, then turned back to his glass.

I don’t know why I didn’t leave him alone after that. Why was he here all alone? I asked him just that.

He slowly turned his body towards me before looking away a moment later. “Can’t a man go out for a drink on his own? Maybe I like my own company.”

“You don’t seem to be having a fun time.” I was overstepping it. Who was I to make assumptions about a stranger?

He sighed and looked down at his drink. I decided to sit next to him. “What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I rolled my eyes. Well, I tried. I put my palms on the counter to lift myself up when a ringed hand covered my own.

“It’s Harry,” he said.

I studied his face, trying to understand what exactly was going on inside his head. He had the eyes of a boy trying his best to make up for a mistake he didn’t know he made. He almost seemed desperate for me to forgive his aloofness. It was as if he was just learning how to be social for the first time.

I smiled and replied with my own name.

________________

Harry didn’t say anything for the longest thirty seconds of my life. I lifted my head to peer at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He was frowning lightly, his gaze fixed on my face but not my eyes. He seemed to be frozen on the outside, but I knew that his thoughts were running a mile a minute–it’s what he does. He’s an overthinker, and that moment was not different from all the other moments he had to stop and think about people’s intentions towards him.

I would be lying if I said the fact that he had to question my confession didn’t sting, or that the look in his eyes was nothing of what I wanted to see. I wanted to see relief, happiness, contentment. But all I saw was nothing. Emptiness.

Finally, he opened his mouth, and I stupidly felt a surge of hope, but then he closed it without a sound—and my hope deflated.

I leaned over and softly brushed my lips to his cheek. “It’s okay,” I whispered before I started detaching myself from him. I wanted to cry but not in front of him. Instead, with a heavy lump in my throat and tears threatening to spill, I found my panties on the floor and slipped them on, then threw his button up over my shoulders.

I heard rustling behind me, then my name sounding from his mouth stopped me at the doorway to his bathroom.

I turned around and he winced. I imagined it was because the emotion I’ve always been bad at hiding was clear as day on my face. It’s something I struggled with since I was a child and still try to work on to this day.

He was sat up now, the blanket covering his lower half, his back slightly curved. He looked at me with a pained face. “I don’t–”

“I know,” I sighed before concealing myself completely from his view by finally closing the door behind me and letting out a large breath. I clutched at the fabric covering my chest, as if I was holding in my aching heart, my tears spilling, one by one. I dropped my head in my hands to stifle my sobs, not wanting him to hear how much he affected me. I’m not sure why I thought that would work, when not two minutes ago I told him I loved him.

________________

That night, we ended up in my bed together.

“Yes,” I gasped, “harder.”

He fucked me like I’d never been fucked before. He was rough the way I liked it–he quickly learned how to push my buttons.

I was on my knees, my face pressed into the mattress as he took me the way he wanted to. My hands clenched around the sheets at a particular hard thrust and he groaned when I tensed around him. I gasped when he pulled out but then he flipped me over on my back. I smiled as he got on top of me, his arms caging my head, before he entered me once again.

I was mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he stole pleasure from my body. I wrapped my legs around his hips as did my arms around his shoulders to bring him closer to me. I welcomed his comforting weight on top of me.

I carded my fingers through his hair and when he moved his gaze from my breasts to my face, I couldn’t resist but lift my head and connect our lips. Upon realizing what I did, I quickly pulled away and opened my mouth to apologize profusely.

“I told you not to kiss me,” he panted as he pulled out of me.

“I know I’m sorry! I don’t know what got over me, I was just in the moment.”

He rolled off and slumped on the bed beside me, the both of us breathing hard. He was quiet, I didn’t know if he was expecting me to say anything else or if he was planning on leaving.

I swallowed and stared up at the ceiling feeling guilty. One of the first things he had told me when when we got in the cab was not to kiss him. I thought it was a weird request, and I was kind of bummed, but I respected it. I tried to at least.

I was about to start another wave of apologies, but I didn’t have time to think about what was happening before Harry leaned his weight on his elbow to slot his lips with mine. I didn’t think twice as I kissed him back, brushing away the initial shock. I realized at that moment that I liked kissing him. A lot.

With his lips still moving with mine, he got back on top of me, and finished what he started.

________________

After a moment of trying to control my breathing, I slipped off what little clothing I had on and climbed into the shower. The steamy water hitting my body helped me relax and my mood lifted slightly as I washed and soaped my skin and hair. Watching the water fall down the drain, I imagined it to be my feelings, one by one, disappearing into the ground and out of sight.

I faintly heard the bathroom door open, then his footsteps, and finally the shower door. Harry climbed in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulled me closer, holding me against him. His damp curls tickled my cheek when he leaned forward and kissed my neck twice, before bringing his lips up to my ear.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I swallowed the lump that had once again formed in my throat. I brought my hand to my stomach where his arms were and entwined our fingers. “I’m not taking it back. I meant it.”

He kissed my skin again. “I know.”

I rolled my lips inward as I nodded my head once, then turned around, his arms still encircling my body. I reached up and gently held his face to simply lock eyes with him. I secretly cursed him for making my heart stutter just by looking at him, at those eyes that say so much, yet nothing all at once. I’d always been captivated by them, not just by their striking green colour, but the stories they hid. Every day, I tried so hard to read him, understand what he was thinking about, what he was worrying about, what he was remembering–I even asked him at times, “what are you thinking about?” or “what is it?” He’d always just shrug, smile and kiss me to make me forget. But I never forgot.

________________

It wasn’t the first time this happened. I was in the kitchen washing the dishes and he was in his room. I was drying my hands when suddenly I heard him call out my name. The tone of his voice had me drop the towel on the floor and hurry towards his bedroom. He was leaning over his dresser, an arm on the top keeping him upright as he took shallow breaths.

“Oh, Harry,” I whispered as I rushed to his side.

I carefully led him to his bed to have him sit down. “Breathe with me,” I said, gently.

His eyes were wild as he tried to comply. I breathed calmly and grabbed his hand, urging him to copy me. The contact seemed to help as he started to calm down.

“Now count with me,” I said. “We’re going to get through this.”

After a while, his breathing finally eased up, and tears welled in his eyes but didn’t fall.

“Come here,” I said as I helped him lay down. I crawled behind him and tangled our legs together while I hugged his back to my chest. I kissed his hair as I worked on keeping my breathing steady, making sure he was still doing the same.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he croaked.

“I’m right here,” I whispered into his hair.

“I need you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

________________

He let go of me when I grabbed the shampoo. I squeezed some onto my palm as he sat on the protruding ledge in the shower, making it easier for me to reach his hair. One thing I knew about Harry was that he loved it when I washed his hair. I didn’t mind, because it gave me an excuse to run my hands through it, another feature to admire of the man I fell in love with. I could feel my eyes stinging once again and this time I let the tears fall freely. He was peering up at me as I lathered his hair with my fingertips, making sure I soaped his roots thoroughly. I hoped my tears were blending into the water–that he didn’t know I was crying–but then his face fell in concern.

“Hey,” he slid his hands behind my thighs to urge me closer. “Come here.”

That did it for me. A sob clawed its way out of my throat, and Harry quickly sat me on his lap as I buried my face into his neck and let everything I was holding in escape. I felt him lean forward before the water was shut off and we were left in the steam of the shower as I proceeded to break in his arms.

________________

“What the fuck is this, Harry?” I was seething.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Of course it’s what it looks like!” I yelled as I shoved the phone in his face.

“They’re just friends,” he sighed.

Tears of frustration welled up as I tried to grasp at this whole mess. “You left, Harry. Without a fucking word and days later I find pictures of you at some beach resort with a random girl all over you?”

He held his hands up. “We were just dancing, I promise.”

I pulled at the roots in my hair. “You don’t get it! Forget what you were doing at that exact moment, Harry! I visit you every day because I care about you and I get worried about you and I want to make sure you’re okay. Then one day you don’t answer the door and excuse me for thinking of the worst case scenario! You don’t answer my calls or my texts, hell, I even fucking emailed you, only to find out days later via Instagram that you were outside of the fucking country having the time of your life?!”

I fell back on the couch feeling nothing but raw anger and hurt as I waited for him to say something.

He got on his knees in front of me but I moved my head out of the way when he tried to cup my face. “Don’t touch me.”

“Baby–”

I balled my hands into fists. “Don’t call me that, I don’t want to hear you calling me that right now.”

“Fine, fine,” he cried. He hugged my legs and laid his head on my knees. “I’m so sorry. You may not believe me but I thought of you every day while I was gone.”

I scoffed at that and crossed my arms over my chest, making sure I didn't touch him. I quickly wiped at the wetness on my cheek, not wanting him to see that I am not only mad, but also sad and hurt. “Disrespect me one more time and we’re over, Harry.”

His head snapped up and panic took over his features. “No, please. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I started crying because everything was too much for me. He did something that had me panicking for days.

“I don’t deserve you,” he continued.

“This isn’t the first time you do this, Harry,” I sniffled. He got off the floor and pulled me into his arms as he laid back on the couch.

“I know and I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed, and I feel like I’m in a box, like my surroundings are closing in. It makes me want to escape, it’s animalistic, I feel like I’m going crazy. At that moment, as if someone was listening to my prayers to make it go away, my friend called me asking me if I wanted to go on a short getaway with him and some other people. I said yes and out of sheer desperation, booked a flight right away.”

“And you didn’t even think of me.”

He held me tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what I was thinking. It was like I blacked out. Again, I am so sorry.”

I let out a long, exhausted breath. I knew what I was getting myself into when I met Harry yet I still went through with it. He was a sad man, a broken man and I still believed he would be the perfect boyfriend. “It’s okay,” I rubbed his chest. “It’s okay.”

As we both laid there in each other’s arms, I couldn’t help but think, I shouldn’t have been comforting him. He was supposed to be comforting me.

________________

“Please don’t cry,” I heard him say as he brushed back my wet hair, the majority of it sticking to my neck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I continued to cry into his neck, not believing how much I had bottled up until that moment. Suddenly I felt wet droplets soak my skin, and I knew it wasn’t the water.

A sniffle escaped Harry and it confirmed my suspicions as he hugged me closer and cried with me. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered brokenly.

I closed my eyes, as we held each other tightly, and didn’t deny it. He was right, I thought sadly, he didn’t deserve me. He put me through hell, and I let him. I naively believed that I could change him, make him feel better–fix him. I wanted to laugh at myself. How could I have been so stupid? He pushed me away too many times to count, yet I stubbornly stayed. Because I loved him. I let myself fall in love with him. And now we’re both facing the heartbreak that’s been looming over our relationship–or whatever it was–since the start.

When I reluctantly leaned back to look at him, I wanted to break down all over again. I’d never seen him cry, and it was a sight I wished I could unsee because his sadness felt like a stab in my heart. I always knew he was a sad man but I’d never seen it on his face so clearly. I saw it through his actions, through his words, but seeing the red eyes, the lowered brows, the downturned lips that I thought about every day, and the tears that littered his red cheeks made me wish I was some magical being who can erase the broken pieces of him.

His gaze followed the movement of my throat as I swallowed then it lifted back up to my own. It was like we were having a silent conversation with our eyes–like we were both dreading opening our mouths and actually sounding out the words that would be the end of us. Then his hand trailed up my skin and the pressure of it on the back of my head encouraged me to lean forward and attach my lips to his.

________________

I smiled brightly as I spotted Harry sitting on a park bench reading a book. He looked so handsome in his tortoise shell glasses and messy hair. As if sensing my presence, he looked up and the smile that graced his features made me want to melt in a puddle. That smile. All for me, I thought giddily as I hurried my pace, eager to be in his arms.

Then, I felt a tug on my skirt and fingers brushing the skin on my thighs. My eyes widened as I looked at the man who had just walked by me and didn’t even look back. When I snapped my gaze to Harry, he was already marching towards the man who had touched me, completely ignoring my pleas to let it go.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes still glaring at the man who was now talking to a woman ten metres away.

“I’m fine, Harry,” I said warily, putting my hands on his chest.

“That fucking entitled prick,” he said, anger boiling inside him.

“It’s all good, calm down.”

“Fuck this,” he brushed my hands off and stomped towards the man. The latter barely got a look at him before my boyfriend’s fist connected with his face.

The woman and I let out a short scream. I ran towards Harry, pulling his shoulders to get him off the stranger who was now on the floor, flimsily blocking the onslaught of Harry’s hits to his face.

“Harry! Stop!”

He didn’t seem to hear me as he didn’t let up. I looked around for help, but everyone seemed happy to watch two men fight. I gasped when the man was able to hit Harry in the jaw. There was no room for careful consideration before I flung myself towards the two men with the intention of throwing myself in between them before someone grabbed me by the waist.

“Get off me!” I yelled at the boy who was holding me back but he only laughed.

I was beyond exasperated and annoyed. “Harry, I swear to God if you don’t stop I will turn around and never look back.”

He seemed to hear that at least. The creep put me down, thankfully before Harry saw.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

________________

I poured every emotion into the kiss. I held his head in my hands as our lips moved together in sync, like they always did. I was telling him I loved him again with that kiss. He nudged my leg and I complied with his silent request to bring it over his lap to straddle him.

He deepened the kiss as his arms snaked around my waist. He’d never kissed me like that, like he was desperately trying to make me understand who he was and why he was the way he was. He kissed me with love and comfort, happiness and fulfillment, but also with sadness and regret, sorrow and dejection.

I was growing tired of my tears but they seemed to be here to stay as my eyes started watering again. “I don’t know how I’ll live after this,” I choked but he only shook his head as he brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Listen to me,” he pleaded when I looked down, unable to hold eye contact. He nudged my chin up to lock eyes once again. “You are the light of my life. And I’m begging you,” he whispered, his breath fanning my lips, “don’t let me be the reason that light goes out. I’ve done enough damage, don’t let me do any more.”

________________

I loved him like this. Relaxed, no creases between his eyebrows, a smile on his face. We were spending the afternoon at my place–talking and laughing about stupid things, the wine we drank making us even more giggly.

We were progressing with our relationship and I was somewhat satisfied with it. I knew it would be tough to get him to open up, but slowly and surely, he’d been getting much more comfortable around me–enough to tell me more about himself. Not his secrets of course, the ones that left him the broken man he is, but he was definitely becoming more affectionate. He was letting me in. I had seen pictures of his brothers and sisters and his mother and father around the house but every time I asked about them, he’d shut down.

I asked him again another time and he gave me a little more.

“They’re not around anymore.”

That could mean so many different things, but I decided that was enough for now. I was satisfied with the fact that he was able to give me that sliver of information. Any progress was good progress.

“We’re all out of wine,” I pouted as I stared at the empty bottle on the coffee table, leaning back into the loveseat.

He chuckled. “There may or may not be an extra bottle in the kitchen.”

I jumped up and started making my way to the kitchen but as I passed by him, he intercepted me and I squealed as he left me to fall on his chest. “I hate you,” I laughed.

He kissed my nose, making me giggle. “No you don’t”

“No I don’t.”

“See?” He asked as his hand tickled my side.

I squirmed out of the way, an obnoxious laugh escaping me. “I need to get the wine.”

“I don’t want wine anymore,” Harry said, encouraging me to lay my head on him. “I have you now.”

I sighed in contentment and smiled as I listened to his heartbeat.

________________

“I love you.”

“Don’t,” he winced. “Please.”

I kissed him again and he responded without hesitation. This time, the kiss held more passion and fervour. It reminded me of the first time we had sex almost a year and a half ago, when it was all a rush and we couldn’t get enough of each other. I moaned when his tongue touched mine and he reached down to slip his fingers between my folds, the palm of his hand a constant pressure on my clit. I whined into his mouth when he inserted a finger inside, then two, and started carefully rubbing my inner walls. I reached down and grabbed his dick and stroked until I felt it start to harden in my hands.

“That’s enough,” I mumbled and reached down to stop his hand. I was already going to come.

“I’m sorry. I just assumed–”

“No,” I pressed my lips to his in a searing kiss. “That’s not what I meant.”

I ran my thumb over the tip of his length and he shuddered. “Are you sure?”

I smiled sadly and rested a hand on his cheek. “Yes.”

He helped me lean forward, letting me align his length with my centre before I started sinking down, and he slowly entered me in a way I never got used to. The delicious stretch always required a moment for me to adjust before I started moving. He tightened his hold on me when I started doing just that.

________________

“Harry,” I asked as I brushed his hair with my finger. We were sitting on the floor, my back to the couch as he sat between my legs. I had just helped him through another panic attack and there we were, fifteen minutes later still on the floor. My ass was getting numb but I didn’t want to get up until Harry was ready. “Have you ever considered therapy?”

He stiffened. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“But–”

He turned around and gave me a long look.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed.

He leaned over and kissed me. “Thank you.”

I said, “This isn’t over. I’m not letting this go.”

“I know,” he shook his head before making me lay down on the floor and trailing his lips across my chest. “Need you.”

I laughed and helped him undress me.

________________

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I gasped as I started moving with the help of his hands on my hips.

The steam from our shower was already fading away, but the heat remained and paired with our movements, sweat coated our bodies, allowing us to move more easily against each other.

My knees were planted on either side of him on the ledge as he held me to him to prevent me falling backwards. Our lips never separated, moaning into each other’s mouths as we relished in the feeling we were experiencing for the last time. The thought made a sob escape my mouth and he squeezed my hips, pausing my movements.

“We can stop,” he mumbled sweetly, ducking his head to try and get me to look at him.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’m fine,” my voice broke at the last syllable. Finally mustering up the courage to look at him, I only wanted to cry harder. He had tears falling, eyes red and sad, and I wished we could turn back time and fix every problem we had the way we were supposed to. I wished we were other people, in another lifetime, who had no issues and who knew how to make us work.

“Come here,” he said and I closed my eyes when his lips touched mine.

I started moving again and he whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Break-up sex was supposed to be quick and dirty. What we were doing right then was sheer torture. We were prolonging the pain, both too scared to face what reality we would face as soon as we were done.

________________

“Harry, we need to talk about this.”

It was another fight. About the same damn thing.

He snapped his head towards me.

“You can’t keep relying on me for your happiness.”

He frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“I mean you finally agreed to go to therapy which is great, but this is the fourth time you ‘forgot’ to go this month.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Why out of all times, he chose then to act stupid? “Baby, if you would just talk to me, open up to me, I wouldn’t be after you about this but you won’t even tell me anything. Sometimes I sit back and think to myself, I know nothing about him. My own boyfriend.”

He scoffed. “You know plenty.”

I grew restless. “I know your name, I know where you work, I know your favourite drink–especially because you reach for it more than you should.”

He grit his teeth at the last statement but I stood by it. I continued, “I know your birthday, I know what car you drive.”

“What’s my favourite colour?”

“Orange. Harry, that means fuck all compared to what I am trying to tell you. I don’t know where you grew up, I don’t know any of your friends–”

“I told you why! They’re not good people!”

“Then why do you spend time with them? Tell me why!”

“I don’t need to tell you anything,” he snapped.

I decided the best response was to walk away, which was what I did. Fuck that, I couldn’t deal with him anymore.

“Don’t walk away from me!” He yelled and I could hear his footsteps catching up to mine.

That fight ended one of both ways all our fights ended. With me comforting him or sex.

________________

His arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me in place as he started rutting upwards. The moans I emitted told him he was hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on his as I let myself feel every inch of him as he got more rough by the second. I knew he was watching me but I couldn’t take it anymore–looking into his eyes hurt my heart, I could feel it break the longer I stared at him. For the first time since I met him, I let myself hide from him. I didn’t give him what he wanted, I didn’t keep my eyes open the way I knew he wanted. I stood my ground, kept my eyes closed despite the tears slipping past my lids, and selfishly let myself feel him for the last time.

My climax hit me out of nowhere and I jerked forward, clawing at his shoulders as he continued to pound into me. My moans echoed loudly in the closed shower stall as I continued to tense around him.

Harry groaned as he held my head in his hands and wiped my tears with his thumbs. I finally lost self control–I let my eyes meet his and saw grief, a look I had only seen once and that was when I asked him about his family. “Harry,” I breathed.

“Shhhhh,” he kissed me. “I’m okay. I’m only worried about you.”

I shook my head. “No, you—“

He kissed me again to shut me up. I reciprocated this time.

Suddenly he groaned as he thrusted a couple more times and I winced from the sensitivity down there. He tensed and burrowed his face in my neck allowing me to hold him close through his orgasm as he breathed hard and finally spilled into me. I didn’t want him to let go. I didn’t want this to be the end.

“I love you, Harry.”

He didn’t say anything.

I separated myself from him and he steadied me before I looked at him for the last time while wiping his wet cheeks. I couldn’t resist leaning down and giving him the softest of kisses.

“I don’t regret you.”

Then I left.

Part 2

A/N: HI BITCHES IM BACK AFTER A MUCH NEEDED MENTAL HEALTH BREAK <3 I missed you. I’m gonna be uploading my favourite fics that I deleted months ago along with my blog.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one-shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

251 notes · View notes

hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

atlas heart || part 49

a/n : "the incantation comes from latin 'protego', 'i protect', and 'diabolica', a declension of 'diabolicus', meaning 'diabolic, relating to the devil'. it is unclear if the translation is meant to suggest 'protection from the devil' or 'the devil protects.'..."

previous | next

tag list!! [closed]

@deepseavibez @siredjoonie @kawaii-desv @knadiuniverse @anxious-reading @catbugsugarpea @cahowlkook @amoreguk @taekookandyoongi @nogitsune-sama @whitetshirtsrus @gustavkonrad @lilacdreams-00 @seungkwanismyaesthetic @mochiteddybear @cosmicdaylight @helpitskpop @lovetootie2x @unnoticeableparadox @applejuice218 @amicalostgirl @bad-idea-personified @moralita76 @yoongiscrackhead @thebleuprince @jooniesmind @incredibleella @missbowkimjinju @marifujioka @evil-ian @uqhgood @milky-way-bitch @yellohoshi @agust-suck-my-d @okaysoplshelpme @cutehoshii @dreamcatcherjiah @butterflylion @thesunisup-theskyisblue @thealexalcala @yoonjibby @baepsaekid @surviving-in-neverland @blaisezabini @melswolf @michiiedreamer @minimochimin @ebeanz @bts-bambi @sleepyje0n

_______________________________

“Jungkook, will you stop eating all the cookies please--”

“How come Jin gets to eat everything in sight, but I can’t--”

“Because Jin is an insatiable mountain troll with no human manners and six stomachs--”

“Aw, Yoongi, you’re so loving with your words!”

“Shut up, Jin.”

“Kim Seokjin, stop eating the fucking food!” Jimin watches with thinly veiled exasperation as chaos unfolds in Yoongi and Hoseok’s countryside cottage. They’d arrived a few days prior, spending the week together before dispersing for Christmas Day, just in time for the full moon. It had been a chaotic week at best -- verbal altercations were had over stupid things like gift-wrapping techniques, and several small fires had already occurred in the kitchen, mostly due to Taehyung’s ice cream maker.

But somehow, they’d made it to Christmas Eve. And, so far, this Christmas Eve had been spent watching Jin eat all the food as it’s being made and consequently be kicked out of the kitchen entirely by Hoseok. Jimin’s seated in the living room with a perfect view of the chaos happening at the dining table. Y/n’s next to him, reading quietly with her head on Jimin’s shoulder. She’s especially tired today, the full moon just over 24 hours away, so Jimin’s staying close to her.

Namjoon and Taehyung are seated in front of the fireplace, engaged in an intense game of wizard’s chess. Namjoon is beating Taehyung by a landslide, but Taehyung just will not give up, something that makes Jimin smile fondly.

There’s a bang from the kitchen, catching everyone’s attention. Hoseok turns slowly from where he stands at the oven, smiling sheepishly at them.

“I may have put the pie in for too long.” The room is a collection of groans and exasperated laughter, Jin’s complaints overpowering the rest.

“How the fuck do you make a pie explode?! It’s a pie!” Hoseok looks to Yoongi for help, but the boy only shrugs.

“The man’s right, babe -- pie’s not that hard.” Hoseok lets out an affronted scoff, moving to open the window over the sink to let some of the smoke from the oven out. Jimin feels Y/n snicker softly beside him, and when he looks down at her, she’s peering over the top of her book at the scene in the kitchen. She looks so peaceful and happy, even with eyes full of exhaustion. He adores her entirely, and he knows it’s obvious to everyone but her.

Her eyes flick up to meet his then, and, over the cries of outrage from the kitchen about not having dessert, he hears her whisper to him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin purses his lips, smothering the smile that’s rising to the surface. He only shakes his head, his expression judgmental.

“Not everything’s about you, Y/n, geez.” He laughs when she gives him a hard nudge with her elbow, and he moves to wrap his arms around her and trap her in his hold. She lets it happen, only grumbling noncommittally about being unable to read like this. He presses his lips to her temple stubbornly in response. “You have a lifetime to read -- let me hug you.”

“Alright, it looks like we’re having deconstructed pie for dessert, so everyone come eat!” Apparently, the argument about the oven disaster has ended, as Hoseok’s setting a pie on the table, a giant hole in the middle where it had imploded. Taehyung jumps up from his tragedy of a chess game and runs for the kitchen, socked feet sliding to a stop in front of the refrigerator. Plucking a big bowl of homemade ice cream -- its flavor to be determined -- from inside, he makes his way to the table and spoons a giant scoop into the pie’s battle wound. He gestures dramatically at it when he’s done.

“Problem solved!” Hoseok mimics him, gesturing just as dramatically at his disappointed boyfriend.

“The man’s right, babe -- problem solved!” The group laughs, everyone slowly making their way to the table to eat. Y/n sets her book on the couch, moving to stand, but Jimin stops her. From within his pocket he pulls a vial and shakes it, eyeing her knowingly when she groans.

“Ten seconds of pain, and then you can drown the taste out with some ambiguously flavored ice cream. If it makes tomorrow night more bearable for you, then ten seconds is nothing.” She smiles, taking the vial and uncorking it.

“Did you just admit to being someone who eats dessert before dinner?” She downs the potion in one go, eyes squeezed shut. She doesn’t see Jimin gazing at her lovingly, only to lower his eyes when she’s done. She hands him the vial and takes his hand, pulling him to his feet and toward the table.

“You promised me only ten seconds of pain before ice cream, so move faster, Park Jimin.” They take their seats in the chairs nearest them, Jungkook setting his plate down on Y/n’s other side and moving to join them. Tae, Yoongi, and Hoseok sit across from them, Jin and Namjoon taking the end seats. Namjoon leaves his seat after a moment, moving to pass out silverware and swap the ladle in Jin’s hand for a normal spoon. Jin refuses to give up his spoon of choice, glaring at the boy standing over him.

“Dude, I will fight you on Christmas Eve -- I have no qualms about fucking up the holiday spirit or whatever--”

“Stop.” It comes from Jungkook, spoken with a quiet urgency that halts all activity in the room. He’s standing just behind the seat he’d been about to take, his hand resting on the back of the chair. He ignores their questioning glances, his eyes locked on nothing in particular as he focuses his hearing on the open window. When he finds what he’s looking for, he meets Yoongi’s eyes, alarmed.

“I thought you said you put a barrier around your house.” Yoongi and Hoseok glance at one another, shaking their heads simultaneously as Yoongi looks back to the Gryffindor.

“We never got around to it…” But Jungkook’s stopped listening. And, for all the years of jokes, remarks, and complaints Jung Hoseok had ever made about the boy’s heightened senses, he can say with complete confidence later that Jeon Jungkook is the only reason he’s still alive. Because the only person in the room that’s ready for the unforgivable curse that’s shot though the open window, aimed squarely at Hoseok’s chest, is the boy who’d heard the call for death fall from its caster’s lips.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s across the room, launching his body at Hoseok’s over the dinner table and twisting in mid-air to throw his hand out toward the window. He’d never in his life attempted nonverbal magic -- not necessarily the most advanced of students -- but it’s said that wizards can create even miracles if they’re desperate enough. And this is nothing like the World Cup, when Hoseok had protected him from a nasty stunning curse -- the beam of light headed Jungkook’s way right now, in this moment of literal life and death, has been shot to kill. So desperation is exactly what produces the shield charm that emits from his entire body, exploding outwards and shattering all the windows in the house as it goes. The force of it blows them all back, throwing them to the floor and against walls with cries of shock.

And, while a shield is normally null against a curse so powerful, it seems Jungkook’s done more than just perform nonverbal magic for the first time. He’s produced a physical barrier -- an invisible pane of pure energy separating his enemies from his family. It takes out half of the kitchen as it goes, destroying the far wall completely and opening the house out to the cold night around them.

In the confusion of chaos and rubble, Y/n lifts her head from the kitchen floor, catching a glimpse of the group of people outside the house, all equally disarmed from the display of sheer strength they’d just witnessed. She counts 6 bodies, all donned in dark robes, and she knows immediately that this is a Death Eater attack.

Groaning, she drags herself to her feet, grabbing anyone she can get her hands on and pulling them with her, staying low to the ground. Jimin’s the first to follow, holding onto Y/n for dear life, but he can’t help the way he hesitates when he looks past the overturned dining table, the wood splintered and cracked amidst all the wasted food.

Because there in front of him, right where the initial wave of power had surged out from and disoriented them all, is something that is very much not human. When it rises to its feet, it stands to full height, and Jimin knows that it’s easily as tall as he is. Black fur as far as the eye can see, the end of its ears and tail painted grey -- its body practically ripples with strength as it moves, and it’s from behind a set of sharpened teeth and a massive jaw, so powerful it could probably break Jimin clean in half, that a low growl starts to rumble.

It becomes a terrifying snarl in a matter of seconds, those piercing teeth shining in the moonlight with deadly intent. Jimin can feel that he’s still moving -- that all of this is happening in slow motion as he runs for safety and that no time at all has actually passed -- but he feels his whole world stop, drowned out by the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, when the beast shifts. Preparing to attack, it turns its head at the last moment to meet his eyes, and Jimin sees then that he knows these eyes. He knows the way they look him over with guarded concern and the way they turn away from him as soon as they know he’s unharmed, silently telling him to find his own way out -- after all, Jeon Jungkook’s always made it clear he has better things to do than look after Park Jimin.

Jungkook presses all his weight into his back legs, crouching low for a moment so suspended in time that Jimin doesn’t even see him leave. But then he’s gone, wind rushing past Jimin’s face and blowing debris everywhere as the wolf takes off. After another hard tug from Y/n that pulls Jimin’s focus back to the matter at hand, he only hears when Jungkook finds his first target, the ripping of cloth and the hellish cry of pain ringing in Jimin’s ears like a nightmare.

Tripping over pieces of the ceiling and walls -- the back half of the house essentially crumbling in on itself -- Jimin finds the faces of each of his friends. They’re all there with the exception of Jungkook, who seems almost feral, if the shrieks of death behind them are anything to go by. The group stumbles from the side of the house through a door that’s comically useless at this point, and when they circle around to the back, it becomes clear that there are far more than 6 Death Eaters.

The group that had led the attack has all but been taken out now, Jungkook nowhere to be seen -- but he’s certainly left evidence of his presence there. Jimin can’t tell if these people are dead or still dying, but he doesn’t have time to sort through the discarded bodies to check. Behind the cottage is a field of tall wheat that's surrounded by forest-- a massive expanse of land -- and when they look into this field to the top of a hill not too far away, there’s another wave of Death Eaters lined up, these faces rather familiar to just two of his friends. Jimin hears swearing behind him, and then Hoseok’s pushing past him roughly, only stopped by Namjoon’s hand clamping down around his wrist.

“Don’t, Hoseok! We can’t do this -- there’s too many of them. We have to run--”

“They just tried to kill me, Namjoon! In my own home!” Hoseok whirls around and gets in his face, eyes wild. Jin tenses next to Y/n, one of his hands hovering over his pocket where his wand is. When she follows his eyes, she sees that the line of Death Eaters has started to approach.

They move slowly, as if they have all the time in the world. As if they have nothing to fear, organized and protected against this mismatched group of ambushed friends. She watches as they approach like predators waiting for the kill, and she knows that this is no simple Death Eater attack -- it’s a massacre.

And then, just as silently as he’d disappeared, Jungkook’s returned. Their attackers are given no warning, only registering that the wheat around them is rustling when one of them is violently pulled down into it. He’s gone in an instant, his screams echoing in the night as he’s dragged through the dirt toward the house.

The moment Jungkook emerges at the edge of the field, the Death Eater is flying through the air and crashing into the remains of the house, slung from Jungkook’s jaws like nothing more than a ragdoll. He lands not a few feet away from them, and Yoongi’s jaw clenches when he recognizes the bloodied face of a fellow Slytherin. Turning to lock his gaze onto the line of his old classmates, he pushes past the group and summons his wand from within the rubble of his home with nothing more than the flick of his wrist. It flies from deep within the ruins into its master’s hand with ease, and Yoongi spins it between his fingers casually once he has it.

“I really hope you guys all know how to cast shields as powerful as Jungkook’s -- otherwise, we’re fucked.” The wolf in question falls into line with Yoongi, his whole body shaking from the warning growl forming deep within his chest. The rest of the group follows, facing their enemies head-on.

From Jungkook’s other side, he feels a warm hand press into the top of his head, and he knows it instinctively. He can also feel the cold length of a wand, hidden easily in the darkness of his fur and beneath her flattened hand. Y/n keeps him there for only a moment -- knowing they only have a moment -- and presses her fingertips against his skull as if to hold him back. As if to stall him just long enough to tell him to be careful. And then the moment is gone and she’s wrapping her fingers neatly around her wand, releasing him with a whisper.

“Go.”

None of them can say how long they’ve been there -- every second that passes is another that they could lose their lives, so it feels like they’re there a lifetime. They’ve huddled into a small circle, surrounded completely. Jungkook is mobile, weaving in and out of their enemies at too fast a speed to ever be hit by a curse. He’s taking them out slowly, dragging them back into the darkness one by one while the rest work just to stay alive. Unlike at the World Cup, where every enemy shot fired was red, these beams of lights are all hauntingly green, glowing in the night sky -- a sign that things are different now, death standing only a few feet away in the form of old friends.

Every killing curse fired is met with an equally powerful shield, a wall that shatters the moment it meets its mark. They’re cancelling each other out, evenly matched in a battle that won’t end until someone gets tired -- until someone makes a mistake. The only sounds come from incantations, spoken by those of their group that cannot cast silently.

Hoseok and Yoongi fight much like their opponents, masks of guarded silence -- a reminder that while they’re on opposite sides of the war, they were once very much the same. The difference, of course, is that their old housemates are now murderers without remorse. But that’s not their only problem.

Y/n suddenly stumbles next to Jimin, and he can’t even tear his eyes away from the Death Eater before him to check on her. He can only reach for her with his free hand, gripping her wrist in panic, which she rips from his hold with a groan. She only barely manages to raise her wand in time to block the killing curse headed right for her head. The force of her shield colliding with the curse so close to her knocks her back, and she falls into the circle with gritted teeth.

Jimin steps in front of her, closing the gap in their circle and allowing her a moment to recover inside their circle. But she never returns to her spot, only curling in on herself and gripping at her head with a cry of pain -- she knows this feeling. The feeling of her skull splitting, her body rejecting itself as it turns into something unnatural -- something unhuman.

But this can’t be happening. The full moon is not tonight, something she confirms simply by rolling over in the dirt and looking up at the sky, in excruciating pain. She can see clearly that this cannot be her reality, yet the popping of her spine as it dislocates itself is very much real. Reaching out blindly, she latches on to the first person she can find, her hand clamping down around Hoseok’s ankle and squeezing with all her might. He hisses above her and manages to glance down long enough to see an expression of pain he’d long become accustomed to.

“What the fuck?!” It’s the first time he’s spoken in ages, his attention back on his opponent as he works out in his mind how this is possible. There’s no time to reason through what he knows, however, because Y/n’s teeth are clenching so hard she’s afraid they might crack, her grip on his ankle tightening painfully. Hoseok makes a snap decision then, calling out into the night.

“Jimin, listen to me.” The boy’s on his left, so focused on the shield he’s casting that he responds only once he’s successfully blocked the deadly beam of green light.

“What is it, Hoseok--”

“You have to take her into the forest. Now.” His instructions are muffled by the sounds of a curse crashing into Namjoon’s shield, unheard by their enemies, but Jimin hears him clearly. He also hears the urgency in Hoseok’s voice, telling him there’s no time for questions. “It has to be you, Jimin.”

He knows then what Hoseok’s saying, what he hasn’t had the chance to confirm himself. Y/n’s transforming on a night other than the full moon, and they’re out of time. He calls for Y/n then, reaching back for her.

“Y/n -- baby, listen to me. We gotta go.” There’s a moment of nothingness, only her groans of pain, but then he feels her hand slamming down into his and gripping hard. And then his body is working faster than his brain.

Stepping forward out of the circle and straight for the man that’s been trying to end his life all night, Jimin swings his arm out, bringing a new shield up with him as he goes. It hits the Death Eater from the side, catapulting him through the air. Just as he’s in the downward arc of his fall, he’s caught suddenly, torso trapped in Jungkook’s jaws as the wolf leaps into the air to capture his next target. They crash to the ground not far away, hidden away in the wheat.

Jimin pulls Y/n to her feet, pointing his wand out into the field as he runs for the treeline.

“Fumos!” The effect is immediate, smoke pouring out of his wand and swirling around him in a dense fog. It keeps them hidden as they make a beeline for the trees, allowing them safe passage. Jimin chances a look over his shoulder and sees that the smoke hasn’t passed over his circle of friends, ensuring that they’ll still be able to see clearly and protect themselves.

Y/n stumbles again as they run, but Jimin’s hold on her keeps her going, and she registers that he’ll be there for her transformation. Panic seeps in through the pain, and she calls out desperately for him to stop, her vision leaving her. Jimin can feel her struggling against him, but he tightens his grip and forces her to follow. They’re close to the treeline by now, but it won’t be enough until they’re completely hidden. And, although he can’t see where the wolf has gone with his old enemy, Jimin steps in something wet and everything suddenly reeks of blood, so he knows Jungkook is near. Apparently, Y/n can smell it, too, because she’s struggling harder now.

“Jungkoo-- Jungkook, stop him!” Jimin grits his teeth and stops, turning to face his girlfriend and pulling her forward. She crashes right into him, the force of his sudden movement propelling her straight into his arms. Her eyes are wide open but her vision’s completely blacked out, which Jimin can see in the fact that she won’t look at him. But he doesn’t need her to.

Ducking low, he wraps an arm around her waist and throws her over his shoulder, ignoring her cries of outrage as he races for the forest just ahead. She pounds her fists against his back, practically roaring with fury as she fights him. He only pushes on, telling himself he’ll let her be as mad as she wants later, if they’re still alive.

Once they make it into the forest, Jimin runs only far enough that he feels unseen before setting her on her feet. She’s immediately falling to the ground, crawling blindly away from him and clawing at the dirt in pain.

“Go away! Just go away!” Disappearing behind a tree, she swears at him loudly, looking for any outlet for her pain. Jimin only turns to the treeline, letting her curse him as he surveys the land around him for Death Eaters. All he sees is Jungkook in the distance, turning in circles in the field as if lost.

Jimin watches as the wolf races for their friends, sliding to an urgent stop and turning back again in confusion when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. He sees when Jungkook’s ears perk up at someone’s call, and his head is turning in Hoseok’s direction. Hoseok’s lips move, giving instructions Jimin can’t hear, but he knows exactly what’s been said when Jungkook’s whipping around to look at the trees.

Interestingly, the wolf hesitates, moving forward before stopping to looking over his shoulder. It’s only a moment, but it’s enough for Hoseok to point out at the forest urgently as he blocks another curse. Jimin can read Hoseok’s lips clearly then as the older boy calls out to Jungkook.

Jimin will die if you don’t go.

The chill that runs down Jimin’s spine at that moment, an omen playing a cruel joke on him, only worsens when he realizes that he’s stopped being able to hear Y/n’s pained gasps. A low whine rings out behind him, and it’s with bated breath that Jimin’s turning slowly on his heels.

Towering over him with an icy gaze locked on him is Y/n -- rather, it’s the part of Y/n that has no idea who he is in that moment. The eyes that see him only see through him, completely empty of anything that isn’t primal. Where Jungkook’s eyes are still his own even in a wolf’s body, these eyes don’t recognize him, and Jimin knows that fact alone will haunt him forever.

Yet, he isn’t afraid of her. He’s only afraid for her -- for the way she’s still curled in on herself, still in pain. He’s afraid for the way she blinks, thoughts muddled and lost, struggling to find herself in the darkness of her mind. He’s especially afraid for the way she finally gives in, losing her will to fight for herself. Her pupils shrink and grow until she’s focusing in on him, and Jimin knows by the way she tilts her head curiously at him that he’s got her attention -- and that’s never good.

When she takes a step toward him, he mirrors it with a step back, and that alone seems to set her off. She moves suddenly, closing the distance between them easily. She leans down until her snout is pushed close to his nose, snarling at him as he stays frozen where he stands. When she raises one clawed hand, he barely has time for a final thought before she’s swinging down at him.

Well, shit.

Suddenly, Jimin’s flying through the air and crashing to the ground a few feet away, rolling to a stop at the base of a tree with a groan -- but he’s in one piece. Lifting his head, he finds that he hadn’t been sliced to pieces by his own girlfriend. He’d been shoved out of the way by a wolf twice his size, the wolf in question now standing where he had just been.

Jungkook’s got his teeth latched around Y/n’s wrist, growling loudly to keep her attention on him. They stand there a few moments, eyes locked in a tense stare-down of dominance. Y/n eventually raises her other hand, claws gleaming in the moonlight, but Jungkook only growls again, a warning. It stops her, as if recognizing this moment, and, although she seems enraged by the display, she lowers her hand anyway.

Ripping her other, trapped, wrist from Jungkook’s jaws, she lets out her own snarl and steps toward him, and Jimin thinks these two might really tear each other apart. But Jungkook’s been here countless times, and he’s still of clear mind, so he knows exactly what to do.

Crouching quickly, he snaps his teeth at her ankles, sending her backwards. She roars angrily, but he persists, snapping at her feet again and again until she’s finally scurrying off into the forest with a cry of outrage. Jungkook watches her go before rushing to Jimin, startling the boy out of his shock.

The wolf sniffs at the air around Jimin, knocking him around with his massive head as he pushes his snout into Jimin’s torso, checking for injuries. Jimin’s lost for a moment, wondering exactly why Jungkook’s expressing so much concern when Y/n should be his priority, but then he remembers exactly what it would mean if he had been caught by one of Y/n’s claws.

Once Jungkook’s done checking that Jimin won’t be turning into a werewolf anytime soon, he’s gone, disappearing after his sister. Jimin only sits there, bruised and battered but alive all the same. Then he hears someone yelling Taehyung’s name in the distance, and he’s on his feet.

Rushing out to the field, he stops at the top of the hill, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the scene down below. His friends are still surrounded, and, although the number of Death Eaters has been severely reduced thanks to the merciless animagus running around, there’s still too many of them. But before he can rush to help, something happens, all too fast to process -- and Jimin has the displeasure of witnessing everything from that hill.

Down in the circle, the rest of the group is fighting for their lives. Many of the boys have sustained injuries simply from their own shields exploding too close to them -- pieces of the ground and debris from the house are thrown around, catching on their bodies in surface wounds they won’t even notice until the next morning.

There’s a special kind of desperation spilling off of Namjoon and Taehyung -- the only muggleborns in that circle -- and it’s making one of them reckless. Namjoon’s keeping his cool, as he’s been in the Order for months now and has had the battle training, but Jin’s having to compensate for small mistakes Taehyung is making out of fear. The Gryffindor’s only a boy, a boy targeted simply for being born. This is the first time he’s ever been faced with his own reality, and he’s terrified.

So when he slips on a piece of rubble at his feet, the only thing that keeps him alive is the fact that he’d moved his head a quarter of an inch to the left just in time. The killing curse flies past him and through the circle, passing Yoongi on the right and hitting a mark just past him -- that mark is the Death Eater that Yoongi had been battling all night.

The boy crumples instantly, the light in his eyes gone. Yoongi watches as he goes, his mind blank as the body crashes to the ground. And then he’s turning on his heel, everything slowed and muffled around him. The Death Eaters have all stopped, equally shocked from what’s just occurred -- after all, they’re just boys, too.

Yoongi hears Jin yelling Taehyung’s name, and he sees Hoseok rushing for him. He watches as Namjoon starts to run to Tae and then stop, raising his wand and choosing to keep guard instead, realizing that their fight isn’t over. Yoongi watches all of it with wide eyes, thinking then that this scene would be very different had the curse hit Taehyung as intended. He spins, staring down at the dead body below him, thinking that this is what Taehyung would have been. This lifeless, empty corpse. And that’s just too much for someone like Yoongi to deal with.

In that moment, the strength of the silent marksman is broken, shattered from within as he fights no longer to protect his own life but those of his friends. In that moment, he proves to be much more worthy than he’d ever thought himself before, breaking through that perpetual tendency to hide himself away — but it comes at a price. Because it’s in that moment that Min Yoongi, for all that he’d tried to free himself of that cursed name, finally gives in to the bloodline he’d spent his whole life denying.

“Protego diabolica!” The spell is cast like the roar of a dragon awakened, enraged -- the first time he’s spoken an incantation in years. It’s ripped from his lungs against his will, uttered with nothing but the urge to destroy, the need to bring pain down on his enemies so that they may never hurt his family again. That dark magic — so forbidden, so evil — follows the command of his left arm, quite literally brought to life by the malice in his eyes and the sweeping of his hand in an arc around himself. And for the first time in the 7 years Jimin had known the shy, self-loathing Slytherin — so guarded from the vulnerabilities of life — he watches from that hill as Yoongi loses control.

The fire that flows out of his hand like water -- icy and unforgiving -- spreads out around Yoongi like a wall of pitch black rage. It passes right over his friends -- they flinch at the foreign magic and its caster, who seems equally foreign to them now. They watch with awe as Yoongi commands the fire, forming a protective circle around them with ease. It almost seems to feed off of his rage, growing with every breath he takes and shrinking with the fall of his chest. He is a snake no more -- a dragon birthed of fire and blood stands in his place.

Jimin watches in pained silence as one of his closest friends loses himself to the war -- but even now, he can still see that Yoongi’s still there. And it’s Yoongi that will have to deal with consequences later, but right now he’s doing whatever it takes to save them. And that includes exploding with anger the moment he spots Jimin still up on that hill.

“Get your ass in here!” The ring of fire seems to swell with his outrage, and Jimin is in no place to refuse. The Death Eaters are still shocked and disoriented by the wall of fire they’re now faced with, and Jimin uses that to his advantage. Racing down the hill, he leaps into the circle, the cold flames licking at his ankles as they let him pass, recognizing him as a friend to their master.

Having seen Jimin’s success at passing through the ring, two of the Death Eaters rush at the wall, unaware of the nature of this dark magic. The moment they make contact with it, the fire senses their intentions, reacting accordingly. Jimin watches as they dissolve into nothing, shrieks of pain ringing out into the air as the fire consumes them. When he turns, he sees that Yoongi is shaken by this, his eyes conflicted as he watches two of his classmates cease to exist, remembering exactly what kind of magic he’s just brought into the world.

But when one of the last Death Eaters attempts to cast another killing curse into the circle, hoping to get through, the fire seems to act not on Yoongi’s command but on his instinct -- and his instinct is to block it. The flames explode outward, concentrating into a wall of protection and destroying the curse. And then they reach further, snaking out to overpower the boy who’d cast the spell, consuming him and his plea for mercy.

There’s only one Death Eater left, standing just outside the circle. Yoongi locks eyes with him, sees the trembling boy staring back at him with fear. They see each other, remembering simultaneously all the times they’d eaten together at mealtimes and suffered together during exam season. They’d grown up together. Just how they’d ended up here, neither of them can recall in that moment, and it destroys whatever innocence they’d had left.

Yoongi finally looks out to the field, his eyes flicking quickly before returning to the Death Eater. The boy hesitates, eventually stepping back. After another moment, he turns, running for his life and never looking back.

When he’s gone, the ring of fire fades, the wall tumbling down until all that’s left is a ring of earth around them that’s been burned to a crisp. Yoongi crumbles then, falling to his knees and staring at nothing. Jimin and Hoseok rush to him, eyes scanning him in concern. They all remain silent, words unable to express what any of them are feeling. Finally, Yoongi lifts his head, still unable to lock eyes with anyone.

“Is everyone okay?” They don’t answer his question, Jin only scoffing in shell-shocked disbelief.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi looks at his best friend, and he knows Jin can see right through him. They all can. He doesn’t respond, and they fall to silence again. Surrounded by bodies and destruction, unable to comprehend what’s happened. Unable to fathom how inexplicably broken they’ve become.

Just when they’re ready to face each other -- when they’re ready to face the aftermath of this night together -- a howl rings out from the forest, pained and haunting. They all lift their heads to stare in exhaustion at the treeline, outlined perfectly by the light of a moon that isn’t full. Yoongi chuckles darkly, shaking his head as he rises slowly to his feet and dusts off his pants before turning to look at what's left of his home with a long sigh.

“This family’s a fucking mess.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #park jimin #jimin x reader #AHupdate

143 notes · View notes

sunflowersteves · 4 years

Text

always home || g.r.

summary || you don’t know how much longer you can take geralt’s dangerous life.

author’s note || i know i have requests to do still but i needed some comfort rn🥺also jesus christ his aRMS

warnings || angst, hurt/comfort, some gore, crying, fluff

masterlist

Your whole body shook with pure dread, the sensation reaching from the top of your head and all the way down to your toes. You couldn’t even look away, eyes glued to the scene before you. You couldn’t do anything either, it was like your brain had come to a standstill--trying to grasp what had just happened.

Your heart had stopped when a Kikimora had swallowed Geralt whole, devouring him like he was just a small snack to eat. The pain rose to the tip of your throat like bile, resting there as a whimper escaped your mouth.

You knew that he would probably be fine, perfectly healthy as he slashed through the monster's insides. You knew that Witcher’s were almost indestructible; they weren’t easy beings to kill.

But there was always that slim chance, that logical side of your brain that knew what could happen. You knew that monster hunting would most likely seal Geralt’s fate; what life he had left in his eyes would fade and become dim.

Which is what terrified you to no end, the thoughts caving in--almost as if they were laughing at you for getting attached to somebody who can’t. You knew you shouldn’t have. You should have let those little butterflies turn into large waves of feelings that crashed down on you at every glance he gave your way.

And yet here you are, tears rolling down your cheeks as it has now been ten minutes and there’s no sign of him anywhere. You had to hide behind a tree to be able to escape from the monsters.

Your chest heaved up and down and your eyes snapped shut as you tried to think of a plan--anything that would help the situation. But in every scenario you could think of, there wasn’t a good outcome.

You clutch the sword in your hand a bit tighter now; the thoughts that surged through your brain were much more crowded now. Your eyes began to sting from the saltiness of the tears, dread overflowing to the brink in your body.

You try to calm yourself down by taking deep breaths, letting your mind try to ease the searing despair that rested upon your heart. You slowly and quietly take your sword out of its sheath, trying to prepare yourself for the battle to come.

And then you heard it, which all the more made you stop dead in your tracks.

You heard the groaning of the monster, misery, and pain screeching through the air. You hear the slicing and cutting of a sword, the sound of guts and fluids flooding across the ground.

You peak slightly from where you were on the tree, eyes wide at Geralt’s figure standing there perfectly fine as he waits for the monster to die in front of him. He looked almost annoyed that the monster wouldn’t die faster, as if he wasn’t just eaten whole by a giant monster.

Geralt’s eyes linger on the Kikimora before they try and find yours, wanting to know if you were okay. His eyes trail up to the tree and then meet yours, relief immediately skating across them.

Normally after a fight like this one, you would always run up to him and envelop him in a hug, completely disregarding the fact that there was monster blood and guts on him.

So he was quite surprised when you just stood there, mouth agape slightly and eyes as wide as ever. He became even more flustered as your eyebrows started to furrow, and a fire ignited in your eyes.

You were livid.

“y/n-”

You ignored him, abruptly turned around and headed straight back to where the town was. You could hear Geralt’s large footsteps follow you but you tried your utmost best to ignore them. You have had enough with this shit, your heart and mind can only take so much. You knew that Geralt couldn’t help it. This was his life. This was his normal. But you weren’t a Witcher. You were just a knight that was supposed to follow the orders of whoever was queen or king.

“y/n, dove-”

Geralt stopped with a halt when you whipped around; the pure venom in your voice was the third thing that caught him by surprise.

“Do not call me that.”

You continued to walk towards the town, your stomps becoming harder as the rage built up and up.

“This is my life, y/n. This is what I do-”

You interrupted him yet again with a scoff, your fast walking pace was slower now, but you did not dare stop. You wanted out of here and away from him until you cooled down. However, Geralt was too stubborn to let you go.

“You don’t think I know that? I know this is your life, Geralt. I don’t want you to change anything.”

All you want to do is leave it like that and enclose yourself off in some pub for the rest of the night. You start walking again; Geralt has other plans as he grips your shoulder, pulling you back to a halt. Your eyes still looked a fiery ablaze as he stared straight into them.

“What is it then, dove? talk to me, please.”

His eyebrows furrowed at the whimper that left your mouth, tears flowing out freely against your cheek and rolling down your chin. Your anger was gone, only agony and apprehension were left between your beautiful orbs.

Geralt’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping softly back and forth against your cheekbone. You opened your mouth to speak, but the only sound that escaped were your hiccups. The action had made Geralt’s heart constrict; to know that he was the reason you were in so much grief.

He watched with some relief as you calmed down; the tears he wiped away were coming to a stop.

“I-I’m sorry.” You take a deep breath before you continue. Geralt was watching your every move, his glowing eyes clouded with concern. “When I d-didn’t see you come out of the kikimora, I-I thought that you had... Geralt, I don’t know what I’d do if-”

Geralt had brought you into his arms as more tears sprung to your eyes. You couldn’t help the sobs that wrecked over your body, your throat enclosing from the thought of losing the one person you can’t live without.

Geralt moved you out of his arms as his hands went to cup your cheeks again, making sure that you were looking right at his face.

“I want you to know that I will always come home to you. I will always find you, dove.”

“But-”

He shook his head, white hair falling slightly amongst his cheeks. “A dragon could burn me to bits, and I’d make my way back to you. The most fearsome monster could pierce through my heart, and I’d get up and come find you. Queens and Kings could create armies to defeat me, making sure nothing of me was left, and I’d run to your arms. I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl, not unless you say so.”

You jump on him immediately, lips attached to his in a passionate dance. Your hands gripped the softness of his hair, still somewhat wet from the monster just a few moments before. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, the soft pillows of your lips making his heart soar.

Your body felt ignited, tingling sensations flowed throughout your nerves and veins. Your lips were desperately molded, devouring each other with desire and adoration. Your hands moved down, so they rested on his chest, gently gripping the fabric of his tunic.

His lips left yours swiftly, his forehead coming to rest on yours. His eyes bore straight into yours, the normal grumpy Witcher was practically glowing with happiness.

“Promise?”

You let out a yelp as he abruptly picks you up, legs resting in his arms and your head laid on his chest.

“I promise you, dove. I’ll always come back to you.”

witcher: @angelinathebook @harrysthiccthighss @borkingbarnes

geralt: @harrysthiccthighss @borkingbarnes

permanent: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd @rebekahdawkins @hailmary-yramliah

586 notes · View notes

themangolorian · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Mandalorian x Reader

Request for @the1maddest1hatter my absolute love who has been so completely and totally patient with me and understanding and i’m so glad i was able to finally finish this and post it for you finally, and i hope it’s everything you were hoping for and more. thank you so much for not giving up on me - this was so fun to write and i’m glad i finally got it to somewhere i’m happy w/ it. i love you! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Warnings: some slight violence.

You weren’t often in the habit of getting yourself involved in the business of others. But when you’d seen imperial guards chasing the cloaked and armored figure across the square, you figured you had no choice.

The fleeing culprit looked more than capable of taking care of himself, but the enemy of your enemy was your friend. So, interrupting the elaborate dance you’d been performing in the middle of the market, you twirled and flipped expertly until you were between the guards and whoever it was they’d been chasing. The distraction was enough. Still dancing and trying to suppress a smile, you saw the end of the figure’s cape disappearing around a corner.

The guards cursed violently your way but shouldered their way roughly past you in pursuit of the disappearing figure. What was more, your ruse had drawn the attention of the crowd of shoppers in the square, most of whom assuredly also had no love for the Empire. Before long, the cylinder you’d put in the square was full of credits.

But then-

Someone gripped your elbow painfully from behind, someone else your shoulder. Striking out to escape, you accidentally turned over the cylinder, spilling credits everywhere.

Loud shouts, haranguing from the crowd, assaulted the imperial guards who had returned empty-handed, the figure no doubt having escaped.

“What kind of dancer do you think I am?” You lilted sarcastically with more confidence than you deserved considering you were being detained.

“Keep your conniving trap shut, scum.” The trooper at your back rammed his baton into your lower back and you could hardly suppress the yelp of pain as you crumpled.

The protests from the crowd were easily deterred when the guards drew their high powered blasters and before you knew what was happening, you were being dragged away in durasteel binders. You cursed under your breath at the imperial guard who scooped up your hard-earned, now easily lost credits.

That was when the Madalorian had swooped in and, helped by the element of surprise, along with what was clearly immense skill, had taken out the guards - freeing you.

“What are you, a trooper gone good?” You’d joked, gesturing at his armor, though you knew it bore little resemblance to a trooper’s. He’d only grunted, focusing instead on freeing you from the binders.

But inevitably the guards had been almost instantly replaced with another unit who’d wasted no time in opening fire. The Mandalorian had dragged you along by the binders you were still trapped in. He managed to dart out of the way of every blaster shot aimed your way, hauling you with him as he went.

By the time you found yourself ensconced in the safety of his ship and as he blasted away from the planet you’d briefly called your home, your heart was beating too fast and you were laughing too hard, out of both panic and glee at the escapade, to question the new reality you found yourself in: on the ship of a stranger whose face you’d yet to see.

But that had been long ago enough by now that it was but a distant if happy memory. The Mandalorian, a man you’d thought so strange at first, had offered to drop you off on any planet of your choosing. And you’d truly meant to leave, but event after event had transpired, all revolving around the Empire’s chase for the child in the Mandalorian’s care, someone you’d also found strange but had now come to care for excessively.

You’d kept putting off leaving and then one day it had just stopped coming up. Though neither of you spoke of it, it now seemed a given that you were a staple in their strange little family.

“This is a good place to set up camp for the night,” the Mandalorian was saying, pulling you out of your reverie as you stared at the suns setting distantly in the sky past the horizon of the sea spread out beneath the cliff just beyond where you stood.

You turned absently and smiled at his visor. You had yet to see his face, even now, but by now he knew just how much you loved the seas, as few of them as you’d gotten to see in your lifetime. The choice of campsite was intentional, providing you with a breathtaking view of this particular planet’s suns-set.

Your heart stiffened painfully as you smiled sweetly his way. The man you’d gotten to know had been nothing like you’d thought he would be when you first met him, as intimidating as he’d seemed. He was gentle and generous to a fault, kinder than most souls you’d ever known.

The Mandalorian cleared his throat, breaking you from your stupor once more, but when he spoke, he too sounded emotional. “I’ll build the tent. Do you want to see how many rations we have left?”

You’s meant to answer but several things happened in succession. Din flinched then unholstered his blaster faster than you could blink. For one staggering moment of horror, you thought he was aiming it at you. But then the cold bite of metal was sharp at your throat, a strong arm coming around your middle firmly before you could react to any of it. A strangled cry left Din’s helmet.

“Where’s the target?” A raspy voice hissed at your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You tried to struggle, despite the idiocy of that act. Your hands shot to the man’s wrist around your neck and you threw your body back in the hopes of escape. But he was like a brick wall and did not budge, did not even react to your attempt as if you were little more than a bug beneath his shoe. It took you a long moment to process the fact that you were in danger of losing your life.

“Let her go,” Din spoke in a cold, threatening voice, “and I’ll let you live.” The blaster in his grip did not waver.

Your blood ran cold when your captor only chuckled. “Give me the location of the child, and I promise her death will be painless.” He flicked the sharp blade at your throat and you gasped involuntarily at the pain, felt a warm trickle of blood running down your neck.

You saw Din’s grip tighten around his blaster, knew he was calculating the odds of shooting your captor without harming you. But you knew Din too well now, knew what conclusion he would reach. But if you were a lost cause, you were free to do whatever it took to ensure that Din was not. To ensure both his safety and the safety of the child.

Thoughts of the craggy, rocky surface at the bottom of the cliff just behind you nearly made you shudder; your fear of heights was almost blinding, but you fought through the distress that would have paralyzed your entire body with fear. Din and the child were, after all, more than worth it.

The standoff continued as if the world had come to a standstill though the breeze continued to blow past you, the chirping of animals continued in the jungle you’d emerged from and, distantly, the breaking of waves on the rocks below did not stop.

Just as you meant to make your move, your captor was yanking your arm back and up until- a sickly crunch sounded and you screamed in pain, trying to muffle your own hurt so Din would not be goaded, but you saw only black for several seconds and your knees almost crumpled beneath you. The slight sliver of brainpower you had left in the moment told you to propel yourself backwards. Your captor, off balance from the movement of breaking your arm, staggered back with you, now just at the edge of the cliff.

“No,” Din shouted, his voice strangled, his blaster faltering now. If he shot, he ran the risk of hitting you. And the knife was still clutched at your throat.

Your captor hissed and tightened his grip around your throat in retaliation, and you struggled to breathe for a few moments. “Move one more muscle and I’ll throw you over the ledge,” he barked at you before loosening his grip. The knife had cut into your neck again, drawing more blood.

Your eyes never left Din’s visor. You could not, of course, see his eyes behind it, but you could will your thoughts and feelings into your own gaze, directed as it was at him. In the brief second you had left, you tried to express with your eyes alone everything you’d never had the courage to tell him before.

Then- you pretended to crumple in your captor’s arms, ignoring the way the knife cut at you again in your new position. He cursed, trying to straighten you. You used the moment in which he was caught off guard to propel him backwards with all the strength you had left in your body. At the same moment, you heard the sound of a blaster.

There had been the smallest part of your brain that had been sure you might be able to catapult him off the edge without going with him. But that had been a fool’s dream.

You lost your breath as you tumbled backwards off the cliff’s edge, unable even to scream.

Your captor had already lost his grip and distantly you heard his scream behind you as he fell. Though you were falling fast to the rocky depths below, you felt suspended in the air, suspended in time, trying to cherish only the last sight you’d had of Din as he’d surged forward hoping to catch you before you fell. You closed your eyes before you hit the icy surface of the unforgiving waters below.

******

Din had seen your intent the moment it had entered your eyes and had immediately been filled with nothing but pure dread. He ran through the possibilities as quickly as he could, but it hadn’t been fast enough. He’d shot the blaster only a second too late. And though the shot had found its mark in the heart of your captor, you’d gone over the edge anyway.

Another strangled, inhuman cry left Din’s lips as he leapt forward towards the cliff’s edge. He reached the peak just as your body disappeared beneath the surface below. This time he took no time to think. He dropped his blaster and dived gracefully off the cliff’s edge, trying to use his momentum to fall into the same area of choppy water where you’d disappeared, blessedly far enough away from the rocks that would have killed you instantly.

The icy temperature of the water barely registered beyond Din’s suit as he flipped his helm’s light on. Din tried not to panic when he saw nothing but empty, rough waters. Cursing within his helmet, he propelled himself further downwards, searching desperately for the sight of you. He began to breathe unevenly as water filled his helmet and knew he would soon have to surface. He could not, he knew, surface without you and expect you to live.

That was when he saw a flash of the bright skirt you almost always wore. He could have laughed with relief that you dressed so flashily. Then he was propelling himself through the water. His heart began thundering again when he saw your face blank, your eyes closed, unconscious.

His arms came around your chest and then he was battling the rough water upwards, breaking the surface and pulling you along with him. The water immediately drained from his helmet, allowing him to breathe. The weight of his armor and the strain of holding you aloft made the journey back to the rocky surface difficult, but adrenaline at the thought of the mere possibility of losing you drove Din faster.

He pulled you along with him up onto a rock above the breaking waves. He ripped his gloves off, one hand fluttering down to check your pulse, the other at your nose to see if you were breathing. When he realized you were not, he did not hesitate-

Din wrenched off his helmet and dropped it carelessly on the rock beside him. He fought the feelings of panic wrenching through him as he leaned down, pinched your nose between his fingers and put his lips to yours. He’d dreamed so many times of your lips on his, but never like this. He cursed himself distantly for never acting on his desires before, for letting his fear dictate his feelings for you, which were clear here at the possible end of it all.

Then he was pumping his clenched hands down on the center of your chest before putting his lips back to yours, trying to breathe you back to life.

“Come on,” he was saying roughly, “come on.”

***

Suddenly, you began to cough and heave, water trickling out of your mouth; your eyes fluttered open briefly. They closed again but not before you’d seen the stranger bringing you back to life. A beautiful, chiseled face. A man with plush lips, dark stubble and a mustache. Deep soulful brown eyes.

You struggled to breathe in, struggled to hack the remaining water from your lungs as you half sat up. The stranger held his arm sturdily at your back.

“The Mandalorian,” you managed to speak through racking coughs, “is he alright? Where is he?” In your panic, you had not stopped to think who the stranger might be or how you’d arrived in his care.

The man did not respond, only clapped you on the back several times, trying to help you cough the water out.

When your eyes fluttered open again briefly, they landed on the soaking cape, hanging over the stranger’s shoulder, seemed to finally see the beskar shoulder piece. You gasped, choking briefly on the water still trapped in your throat.

“What-“ But then he was fitting the helmet swiftly back over his head. But not before you had seen the anguish in his gaze.

Immediately, you berated yourself inwardly. You should have kept your eyes closed. You should have- but you could not have known.

“Din,” you tried, but you silenced yourself, knowing he must be kicking himself.

Quiet and stoic as the day you’d met him, he lifted you into his arms, letting you hitch yours around his neck. Despite what had happened, you cherished being in his arms, curling into his chest, your head pounding from the fall, from your near death.

You were weaker than you’d realized and lost consciousness in Din’s arms again barely registering that he’d activated his jetpack.

When you awoke, you were cozy and warm and wrapped up in a swathe of blankets, your wet clothes gone. You blinked at the ship’s hull above you. You were back on the Razor Crest.

“Grogu,” you managed through your drowsiness.

“He’s alright,” Din’s voice came from the alcove just to the side of his bed, which you were now laying in.

You breathed a sigh of relief, but your breath hitched when you remembered what had occurred, what you’d seen, what Din had done.

“Din,” you breathed against your will. Likely he wanted nothing more than to be left alone, as remorseful as he no doubt was. His creed for your life? What a paltry exchange.

The thought brought tears to your eyes. As well as the thought that Din could only hate you now. How could he not?

But then he was at your side, his gloved hands hovering over you. “Are you alright?” Concern so deeply evident in his voice that it only made you want to cry harder.

“I-“ you managed, your voice choked. You grasped his hand since he held it there just at your eye level, and he sunk down to one knee, tightening his grip around your own. “Din, your creed.”

For just a single moment, he stiffened, but then took a shaking breath and relaxed. His other hand came up to stroke your forehead, then your cheek. “Don’t think about it. Just rest.” His voice was more gravelly than usual.

You swallowed through the dryness in your throat, distantly noting the bandages he must have applied to the wounds you’d sustained at the hands of your captor. Your eyes fluttered closed under his touch, worried if you kept them open, he’d leave your side. But his gloved hand continued its steady stroking of your cheek.

Tears threatened to spill from behind your closed eyes anyway. At the tenderness of it all. Of Din’s ability to forgive the unforgivable. Of what your presence in his life had caused him to forsake.

“You should have let me die,” you croaked before you could stop yourself. It was far from the right thing to say, but you meant it.

His breath hitched under his helm, and his fingers froze at your jaw, his other hand clenching yours tightly. “Don’t say that,” he muttered gruffly, his voice choked.

Din was more emotional than you’d ever heard him, but you were sure it was because of the betrayal of his creed; you could not fathom that his grief might have anything to do with the fact that you’d almost died.

You spoke through the painful tightness in your throat. “I’m not worth it- You shouldn’t have- I’m sorry I caused this-“

You stopped talking when he released your hand to cup your whole face between both his hands. You opened your teary eyes in surprise but, of course, saw only your weepy reflection in his visor.

Din’s gloved thumb rubbed just beneath your lips. “I…I couldn’t- let you die.” The words seemed a struggle and he let them out haltingly - not as if he didn’t want to say them, but as if he didn’t know how. “I…” You heard him swallow beneath the helmet as your eyes darted all around his visor, wishing you could see his current expression, wishing you’d never seen his beautiful face at all. But then- “I care…about you…more than I can-“ He cut himself off, as if fearing he’d said too much.

You merely stared, hardly able to believe your ears. He couldn’t mean… Could he feel the same… The thought was too unbelievable to truly consider.

His grip on your face loosened. “I…” He sounded suddenly uncertain. “I understand you don’t- feel…the same. I just…”

But then you were gripping his wrist before he could withdraw his touch. You heard a sharp intake of breath beneath the helmet and realized your fingers had met the skin of his wrist. Your eyes fluttered sideways, drinking in the sight of his perfect skin, scars and all, just there beneath your fingers. When you brushed his wrist with your thumb, he let out a sigh and his hand tightened around your face. Your eyes darted to his helm then back and then you were leaning sideways and pressing your lips to his wrist.

You felt his pulse jump beneath your lips as you pressed another kiss to the inside of his wrist. When you looked back up at him, his helmet was tilted as he seemingly stared down at you.

“If-“ You licked your parched lips, swallowed with difficulty. “If I close my eyes, will you- Can I-…” You’d never found yourself, chatty as you tended to be, at such a loss for words. “Can I kiss you?” You managed. He froze and you opened your lips to take it back, terrified you’d said the worst thing you could have in the moment. But when he shifted to move, you lost your breath, wondering-

He went to take off his helmet without waiting for you to close your eyes.

“Wait,” you gasped, shutting your eyes tightly, just as you heard the whoosh of air that must have meant he’d acquiesced.

“You don’t have to-…”

And it was your turn to stiffen. The modulator had always been a given, and you’d never really thought twice about what his voice might have sounded like without the digital disruption.

It was husky and crackly, soothingly deep.

You found your breathing going shallow again when his hand, now ungloved, was back at your cheek.

“My creed,” he started, his voice rumbling somewhere deep within your chest, affecting you deeply. “My creed dictates that I- protect….my clan.”

Your breath hitched again, impossibly so.

“The promises I made when I received the helmet,” you heard a heavy thunk as he apparently put the item in question down. “There is more to my creed than just the helmet. A Mandalorian who cannot keep…his clan,” Those two words again; your stomach flipped of its own accord each time he said them, at the thought of what he might be implying. “A Mandalorian who cannot keep his clan safe…is not worthy of the helm he would wear.”

You startled when his bare finger ran across your lips soothingly.

“Grogu…” he began again, slowly, as if weighing the words. “Has seen my face. Do you know why?”

“He’s your son,” you breathed against his fingers, reveling in the way your lips brushed his fingers as you spoke.

“Yes,” his voice cracked on the syllable, but only just, and when he spoke again, he’d recovered. “My family. My clan.”

You swallowed hard again through the lump in your throat, pursing your lips to speak, to deny what you thought he might next say, not because you didn’t want it to be true, but rather because it was the only thing you wanted to be true and were too afraid that it was not to even entertain the thought. But his finger hovered just over your lips once more, silencing your attempted protest.

“You didn’t make me break my creed,” he promised. “I’ve been wanting to- I’ve wanted to see your face…for so long.”

You made a noise of protest now. “You see my face all the time.” Indignant when he got what you didn’t every single day.

“Without the helmet. Not through a visor.” His voice was heavy again, emotional.

It was not until then that you realized what he’d said. He’d wanted to see your face too. He-

“You-“

“You can open your eyes,” his voice was soothing, encouraging even.

“Are- are you sure?” You managed finally.

He let out a low chuckle that set your heart to racing faster than it did even when you were dancing nonstop in city squares. “I’m sure.” It was a promise.

You opened your eyes and your sigh was involuntary. You drank in the sight of every sharp angle and soft line of his face hungrily. His eyes were tender, but as he leaned down, there was a kind of hunger in them too.

This time, when your lips met, it was a different kind of life you felt him breathe into you.

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #my stories #request #the1maddest1hatter #the mandalorian #din djarin #mando #mandalorian #reader

69 notes · View notes

thecarrieonokay · 3 years

Text

Fluff and Angst Prompt #2

Happy Monday! Shall we start the week with some fluff and/or angst?

@hellishrose this one’s for you, dude! From THIS list.

Warnings for a bit of colourful language and (pretty much goes without saying) they’re pissed as farts. (Drink responsibly, guys. Or don’t. But don’t blame me!)

Riley smelled them before she saw them. The unmistakable scent of tequila was wafting towards her in waves.

She turned to see Bozer and Mac stumbling through the war room door, Desi behind them with a firm grip on both of their collars.

“Found them,” she said just before releasing them.

Bozer stumbled forwards but managed to style it out with a little swagger before landing hard on one of the stools. Mac just hit the edge of the table with an ‘umf’, rested both of his palms on the surface and bowed his head. He shook it like there was a gnat in his ear.

Desi rolled her eyes in Riley’s direction before spinning on her heel. “I’ll make a vat of coffee,” she called back over her shoulder as she marched in the direction of the break room.

The boys stank. Seriously. The sickly sweet smell hit the back of Riley’s throat and triggered a string of unwelcome memories. Ever since that unfortunate event in July, tequila had pretty much become Riley’s least favourite thing. She shuddered. The consequences had lasted a solid week.

“Boze?” She clicked her fingers to get his attention. “Hey! Bro!” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?”

“M’ not dat drunk!” he slurred. “Immonna go get some coffee though. ‘Scuse me.” He launched to his feet and stumbled past her.

Riley chuckled and shook her head as he swaggered in the same direction as Desi. “Matty is going to murder you!” she called after him.

All she heard was a dismissive “yeah, yeah,” as he zigzagged down the hall. Riley chuckled to herself. There was no way they could sober him up in time for the briefing. There wasn’t enough coffee in the world if he was drunk enough to not take the threat of Matty seriously.

When she turned to Mac, he was staring at her, a grim look on his face. Riley raised her eyebrows at him. “Mac? You okay?”

“We went for drinks.”

“I can see that,” she smirked.

“Bozer was sad.”

Riley’s smile faltered. “Bozer was sad?”

“Yeah,” Mac nodded. “I’m sad too. Not as sad as Boze, of course. But,” he sighed, “I’m sad too.”

Riley closed her eyes as Leanna’s smile flashed across her vision. A wave of pain followed in its wake. Leanna’s death was weighing on them all. But since that day, Riley could actually see Bozer physically carrying the burden of it with him. His feet seemed heavier and his shoulders inched towards his chest, as if there was a literal hole where his heart had been.

In all the chaos of the last few months, there hadn’t been a beat to process the enormity of the loss. Matty was definitely keeping them on a hectic schedule on purpose. But Riley knew that distraction would only work for so long. Feelings that stayed buried tended to either fester until they were rotten or boil over at the worst possible moment.

At this point, Riley was somewhat of an expert on the subject.

The object of her suppressed desire was frowning when she opened her eyes. “I don’t wanna have any regrets, Riles,” he said.

Riley puckered her brow. Mac’s drunk talk usually involved props or a slide-show of some kind. Typically, his Macspaining went into overdrive until his brain appeared to short-circuit and he passed out somewhere really uncomfortable (like the coffee table or a flight of stairs). This sombre tone was new. “What do you mean?” she asked, concerned.

Mac sighed and stood mostly upright. He skirted around the table, using it for support as he worked his way towards her. “Bozer could have had more time with her,” he murmured and shook his head. “He regrets so much. I don’t wanna feel that way.”

He stumbled over his own feet and Riley leapt forward to grab his forearms before he hit his face on the edge of the table. His usual pine and petrol scent was so obscured by booze that she scrunched her nose. She ignored the rolling in her stomach and focused on trying to get Mac to plant his ass on the nearest stool.

“Tequila, Mac?” she asked as she guided him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the seat. He gripped both of her arms as he lowered himself onto it. He didn’t let go. “Why tequila? Have you forgotten what happened in July?”

He raised his head and narrowed his eyes. “Actually, it’s a bit of a blur to be honest.” His eyes brightened as he said, “Y’know what happens to the brain when alcohol triggers memory loss?” He gave her arms a little squeeze.

That was more like it. Riley rolled her eyes. “I bet you’re gonna tell me.”

He smirked. “Only if you want me to.” Then he leaned in and whispered a little too loudly, “I could tell you a lot of things.”

His breath may have smelled like booze, but it was also warm as it tickled Riley’s face.

“You do tell me a lot of things, Mac. You never stop telling me things. It’s kind of your thing.” And she loved him for it. Not that he knew that, of course.

He smirked. His voice dropped an octave as he said, “I could tell you other things. Things I know I’ve never told you before.”

Mac’s husky tone sent a shiver surging down Riley’s spine. Her heart involuntarily stuttered. He was drunk. He was… impaired. He was definitely not suggesting what she thought he was suggesting.

For one thing, he and Desi had only just split. And it hadn’t been pretty.

Against her better judgement, Riley asked, “Oh yeah, like what?” as casually as she could manage. She ignored the alarm bells ringing in her head.

He trailed his long fingers down her arms and tickled her palms as he narrowed his eyes at the rings adorning her hands. “Like how you have the most beautiful skin.” He sighed. “I just want to touch your skin all the time, Riles.”

A heavy stone settled in the pit of Riley’s stomach as his nimble fingers wrapped around hers and held on tight.

“Like how much I care about you,” his brow lifted and his eyes shone as they pierced her. “I’ve never told you how much you mean to me before. I’d die if anything ever happened to-”

“Mac, stop.” Riley reacted on pure instinct when she ripped a hand from his grip and placed it firmly over his mouth. She couldn’t let him go on. Each word was like a dagger to her chest. “Please stop,” she whispered.

He was drunk. He was impaired.

She stood looking down at him with his knees brushing her thighs and her hand over his mouth. Mac’s eyes grew darker and darker. Inebriated though he was, his gaze was steady. She felt herself being drawn closer, unable to break her stare as he looked into her. The stone in her stomach turned to water. She felt unsteady on her feet as waves crashed against her insides.

At least ten beats pounded in her chest as she stood caught in the steady beam of his gaze. It felt like an eternity.

Still unblinking, Mac reached up, peeled her hand away from his face and placed it carefully over his heart.

Riley held her breath. What he said next shattered her, just not in the way she expected.

“Riles. I don’t want to be sad,” he said.

Riley didn’t want him to be sad, either. His sadness was like a mirror. She could see her own pain reflected in his open and earnest expression. And it scared the shit out of her.

Because if there was one thing Riley’s life experiences had taught her, it was that people always said things they didn’t mean when they were desperate or scared. Or sad.

Emotion could be just as intoxicating as tequila. And just as destructive.

She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath through her mouth. The warmth of his skin was seeping through his shirt into the pads of her fingers. Though the urge to cradle his head to her chest was overwhelming, Riley fought against the crushing grief. She allowed herself to feel the thrum of only three more of his heartbeats before slipping her hand out from under his and taking a full step back.

Riley opened her eyes.

“Mac,” she sighed. “Your tolerance for alcohol sucks about as much as your skeeball game.”

He stuttered something incoherent, like he was about to argue, when Bozer burst into the room shouting. “Ah HA!”

Then Bozer froze, apparently distracted by his shoe.

“Boze?” Riley asked.

“Yeah?” He looked up at her and squinted. “I mean, yeah!” he shouted. “I caught you!”

Riley lifted her eyebrows and waited for him to explain himself.

“I mean…” he looked between Mac and Riley like they were opponents in a tennis match. Riley was still confused. So was Mac, if his foggy expression was any indication. “Goddamn it!” Bozer exclaimed. He settled a furious gaze on his oldest friend. “Didn’t you kiss her yet?!”

Riley choked on air. She looked sideways at Mac to gauge his reaction to Bozer’s alcohol-induced hallucinations. His jaw was locked, his eyes were like saucers and his cheeks were as red as the fire extinguisher he kept on his desk. (After the last ‘incident’, Russ had insisted it stay there permanently.)

What in the holy hell was happening?!

Bozer just waddled forwards and deposited himself onto the nearest stool with a dramatic sigh. “I knew you would chicken out. I just knew it,” he mumbled. “All that big talk about how you were finally gonna-”

Riley didn’t get a chance to hear exactly what ‘he was finally gonna’ because Mac launched himself off of his seat in Bozer’s direction and knocked him to the ground. They both landed in a heap in front of the door and began smacking each other like five year olds.

And that was the moment Matty chose to enter the room.

“What part of ‘I might need you guys for an op tonight’ did you not understand?!” she boomed. Mac and Bozer both groaned as they craned around to look up into her furious face.

Oh, this was going to be SO much worse than July.

Desi appeared in the hallway and froze like a rabbit in a snare when she saw who was standing in the doorway. There were two mugs dangling from one of her hands and a huge steaming coffee pot in the other. She mouthed “fuck” at Riley through the window.

“Wait,” Matty’s expression turned murderous as she hollered, “IS THAT TEQUILA I SMELL?!”

Bozer frantically untangled his legs from Mac’s and stumbled to his feet. “Matty, I swear,” he pleaded. “This time we totally did NOT tipi your house.”

“No,” Mac chuckled from the floor. He proudly lifted his chin and declared: “We egged Taylor’s car instead.”

#macgyver #macriley #prompt list #fluff and angst #pining #macriley fic #one shot #under the influence #drunk mac #carrie writes #carrie's prompts #and before you ask YES I have a grudge against tequila

70 notes · View notes