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gguksgalaxy · 4 years

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Stranded | JJK | E2L

Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug. Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.

A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!

“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”

You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”

Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.

“Please, do it for me.”

You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”

“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”

Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.

Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”

“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.

“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.

“Are you still with me?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”

“Even inviting Jungkook?”

“Anything but that.” It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.

Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”

The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.

“I will consider it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”

He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”

“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.

So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.

Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.

Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.

Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.

He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”

Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.

“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”

He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.

You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.

He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”

“No,” you grumble.

“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”

You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.

Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”

And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.

“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”

“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”

“It’s October.”

“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”

A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?

He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”

If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”

“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”

“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.

Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”

You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.

“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”

What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”

He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”

“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”

“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.

You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.

“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.

‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”

Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”

The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.

Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.

He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.

“Are you gawking at me?” He says, stopping his movements mid-air.

Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”

His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”

“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?” You poke his forehead.

He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”

“I’m listening!”

Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”

Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”

“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.

“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.

“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”

Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”

He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.” Why does this sound so hot when he says it?

God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.” It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.

He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”

Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.” There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”

You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”

The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.

“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.

Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”

“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”

Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”

“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”

“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.” He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.” Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.

This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.

“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.

Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”

Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”

When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.

“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”

Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”

His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”

You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.

“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.

Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”

You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”

Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”

“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.

Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”

That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.

“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.

Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”

His face changes, eyes wide.

“What are you trying to say?” you press.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”

“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”

All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.

Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.

Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.

Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday

“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge

“Take it or starve. Your choice.”

He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”

“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.

Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”

“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”

“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.

Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”

He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.

“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”

You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.

Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”

He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”

“You study?”

“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”

You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”

Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”

“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”

“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.

Then, he grins.

You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.

Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”

Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

“What am I now? A villain?”

“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.” You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.

He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.” The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”

“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”

The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.

The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.

Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.

“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”

You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”

He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”

“No.”

“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”

“You would not.”

He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”

In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.

“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”

That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.

Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”

“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”

“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”

You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”

“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”

“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.

He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”

Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”

In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”

Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.

It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.

Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.

“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”

You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”

Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”

“Huh?! That can’t be right!”

“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”

You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.” You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”

He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”

You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours

“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.

Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”

Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”

Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.

As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.

“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”

Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”

You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.

“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”

“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”

For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”

At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”

You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.

Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.

He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.

Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.

Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.

He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.

Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”

“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.

You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.

Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.

Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.

You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.

“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”

Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”

“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”

He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.

When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.

Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.

So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.

You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.

“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”

Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.

You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.

Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.

“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.

He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.

When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.

Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.

Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”

You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”

Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”

“What?”

He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.” Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”

You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.

“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.

He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”

Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”

You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.

Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.

He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.

The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.

“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.

You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.

“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.

As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”

You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.

A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.

You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.” You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.

“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”

Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You joke.

He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”

“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.

No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”

You nod. “Just go slow.”

The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.

“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.

“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.

Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.

Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.

Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.

He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.

Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.

Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch. Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.

Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.

He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.

“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.

He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.

The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.

In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.

Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.

He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.

“I’m throwing that mug out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”

Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”

You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”

No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.

Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.

Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?

“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”

Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.

You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”

Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.

“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”

“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“

“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.

“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“

You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”

He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.

Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”

What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.

The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.

So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.

Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.

You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.

There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.

The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.

You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.

“Jungkook,” you croak.

He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”

It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.

Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”

Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.

“Do you want to—”

“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.

“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”

Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.

“Can you at least say something?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly. “Sit up, please.” Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”

Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”

You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.

“I admire you,” he whispers.

“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”

He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”

You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”

The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.

“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”

“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”

“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”

What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.

“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”

You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.

But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.

He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.

Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”

You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.

It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.

“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.

“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”

“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”

He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”

You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.

Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.

“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.

You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”

He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.

Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.

When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.

Then, he pinches your butt.

You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”

He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”

“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”

Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten @yoongs-jeontae @wintaejk @guksweet @rynofpentacles @mikroparadise @jeonggukkiepabo @softlyjiminie Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth @teresaisla @yeontanie21 @tessanator97 @ladyartemesia @dayjeons @djasheyash99 @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz @bbangtanlove95 @zeharilisharaban @jungkooksgoodgirl @topanga27 @pjmochii @iwanttohitmyself @veryuniquenamegoeshere @bel-abysse @jiminsreads @jungkookspromise

© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work.

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maladaptive---daydreamer · 4 years

Text

Black ribbon and silver bows

The fifth of may meant that there were exactly 2 months until Draco turned 17. Draco had gone above and beyond for your birthday, spoiling you with 17 individually wrapped gifts that he sent you on a wild goose chase around the school to find. You wanted to make him equally as special as he made you feel, but what did you get the boy who could get anything he wanted?

You thought about getting him a pet, but you didn’t think his mother would appreciate a cat roaming around the halls of the Malfoy Manor. Then you thought about getting him a broom, but as usual, Draco already had the best of the best. Your mind turned to clothes, but the man only wore black shirts with tailor-made trousers.

“Still thinking about what to get Draco?” Blaise’s voice asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Ugh yes, anything I think of, he already has”

“You’re fault for choosing rich, should have dated a Weasley, they’d be over the moon with an unworn robe”

You smacked Blaise’s arm “Don’t be so rude, Blaise. Just because you don’t like them doesn't mean you can be a prick”

“Why don’t you make him something? I’m sure the elves would let you sneak into the kitchen to cook, you could draw something, write him a poem”

If you were a cat, your ears would have pricked at hearing the word ‘draw’, Draco was never a fan of the decorations in his room, maybe you could paint him a painting that he could hang up on his wall.

“You might have just saved Draco’s birthday”

The increase of chatter across the library hinted that your free period was over and it was now time for lunch. You and Blaise collected your things and returned the books to the returns trolley before making your way to the great hall. You bumped into Draco, Pansy and Daphne on your way there. The five of you made your way to the Slytherin table to see Crabbe and Goyle already tucking in.

“Why am I not surprised that you two gluttons are the first on the table?” Blaise asked, throwing his school bag down and taking a seat.

The rest of your group sat down as well, the elves had made different variations of chicken wraps for lunch today. You picked up a grilled chicken wrap and began eating it, famished after your hour of revision during your free period. You had just finished the first one when Draco said your name.

“You’ve got sauce on your mouth, darling”

You stuck your tongue out trying to lick it off but you kept missing.

“Hold still a sec” Draco instructed. He used his thumb to wipe the spot of sauce from your mouth, licking it off his thumb once he was done.

“Ah my saviour!” you fake swooned.

He laughed and continued to eat his lunch. You wolfed another half of a wrap before feeling full.

“Are we still revising for charms after dinner?” Daphne asked, looking up from her homework.

“I’m on it, but the boys have quidditch practise until 7, so they’ll have to join in later” You replied, snapping the lid of your lip balm back on

“Actually, practice is cancelled, so Blaise and I’ll be there” Draco added, downing the rest of his pumpkin juice.

“Y/N, you alright?”

Your head whipped around to see Neville Longbottom standing behind you.

“Are you lo-” Draco began to sneer

You pinched the outside of his thigh making him grit his teeth instead of finishing his sentence. “Neville, hi”

“I just wanted to return your charms notes, they were dead useful, thanks,” He said with a light blush, holding your pile of notes out.

“Oh, thank you. I’m so glad you found them helpful” You took the notes from him with a smile.

“Have a nice rest of the afternoon,”

“You too Neville,”

He returned to his friends and your friends turned onto you.

“Why are you so nice to him?” Blaise demanded.

“Oh merlin, when are you guys going to get over this rivalry, he needed help, so I helped him.”

“He’s also Longbottom”

You rolled your eyes. “Anyways, does anyone want to let me copy the last two questions for the dada homework?”

Daphne slid her roll of parchment over to you and you quickly scribbled the answers. Just as you had screwed on the cap for your ink lid, the bell for your next lesson rang. Nowadays your lessons were less structured, it was two months before exam season which meant the teachers pushed to revise topics rather than introducing new ones. Some teachers preferred to let you get on in groups doing your own thing, others had a strict revision lesson planned. But one thing was for certain exams had definitely taken over your life.

After your charms revision session with your friends, you and Draco found yourselves walking up to the astronomy tower. The sun was beginning to set as you nestled yourself into his lap.

“Don’t you think it’s mad that in a couple of years we won’t be able to do this anymore?” You asked, tightening his arms around you.

“We can watch the sunset from anywhere love”

“Ha ha you know what I mean idiot”

“I’m ready to leave this place”

“Sorry Mr ‘I should have been in Durmstrang’”

“I should have, my father agreed more with their curriculum”

“Maybe cause his old death eater buddy was running it”

“He’s your father's old death eater buddy too”

“My father never thought about sending me to Durmstrang”

“That’s because it’s a boys-only school, love”

“I don’t like you”

“That’s because you love me,”

“Speaking of love, do you remember the first moment you realised you loved me?”

He paused “As a matter of fact I do”

“Do tell, Mr Malfoy”

“We were at that party at the Parkinson’s in our 3rd year. You had a silver dress on. Your mum forced you into these heels and you hated them. You wobbled over to me and clung to my arm the whole night. But as soon as we were shooed away from the adults, you took them off and practically shoved them into my hands and started walking around barefoot. Pansy’s grandmother came out of the parlour and saw you without your shoes on and went berserk, she called you a disgrace, all our mothers came out to see what was going on and I’m pretty sure your mum looked like she was going to kill you”

“I remember that! Then I transfigured her ostrich feather boa into a snake around her neck!”

“She nearly pissed her pants” He laughed, causing you to smile.

“So is that your favourite memory of us?”

“No, my favourite memory takes place in our 4th year at the Yule ball. I didn’t want to dance in front of all those idiots but you pulled me up there anyway. But as soon as you held my hand it was like they all disappeared and it was just me and you. I spun you out and when you spun back into my arms, I dipped you and you looked so beautiful. But that is fighting for the top spot from the time you sucked me off in the restricted section, and the time you floo’ed into my room last summer at 2 am and I absolutely ruined you”

“Okay okay I get the picture your favourite memories are when we have sex”

“Not all of them, just some, what’s yours?”

“5th year, Christmas break, your parents’ Christmas party, you hid my promise ring inside my dessert” you held your hand up letting your ring sparkle in the candlelight, it was simple, a small princess cut emerald on a gold band, but it was oh so precious “You kept staring at me and I was so confused, I wasn’t even looking at what I was eating until you jerked my hand back and told me to look in the spoon and there it was. You cleaned it off and slid it on my finger right in front of everyone. Or maybe it was the time you made me sit on your face when we snuck into a room at the leaky cauldron”

Draco laughed and lifted your hand up and played with the ring. “After we finish Hogwarts, I’m gonna replace this ring with a diamond one”

“You are?”

“Why do you sound so surprised, I told you already I was going to change your last name to mine, even your parents know”

“I know but I didn’t know you wanted to do this so early"

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

“You are so whipped”

Draco shoved you off him playfully.

“But it’s okay because I’m equally as whipped” you replied sitting back in his lap.

“You’d better be, otherwise I’d-”

“You’d what? Tell your father?”

“Right, that’s it” His fingers found your sides as he began tickling you. By the time he felt as though he tortured you enough, you were both breathless.

“I love you," He said, smoothing your shirt down.

“I love you more”

“Who’s up here?” Filch’s voice grumbled.

You and Draco grinned at each other as you quickly threw your robes on and lifted the hoods, running straight past Filch and into the Slytherin common room.

You had now learnt what Draco’s favourite memory of you was. All that was left was actually getting around to paint it. If you weren’t in a lesson, you were revising, usually most of the time with Draco. Even on weekends, you found yourself in in the library completing practise exam papers and testing yourself on flashcards. And any time you weren’t working, you and Draco used as an opportunity to spend time with one another without being bogged down with work. You’d already decided that the room of requirement would be the perfect place to start painting, but the issue was figuring out how you’d be able to sneak there and back without arousing suspicion.

After much deliberation, you decided that your best option for sneaking out was on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Every Tuesday after dinner, Draco and Blaise would go out to the quidditch pitch to blow off some steam, by the time he had finished and showered, you were almost always already in bed. On Wednesday, you decided you’d tell Draco a little white lie and say that Flitwick had asked you to tutor a struggling 5th year in Charms, it would give you a few hours to yourself to get ahead with painting.

The upcoming Tuesday your plan was in action, you made Daphne swear she wouldn’t tell Draco where you were and you made your way to the room of requirement. It was honestly a Godsend. You stepped into a room full of different sized canvasses, there were tubes of oil paint and palettes of watercolours and squeezy bottles of acrylic. A table was full of paintbrushes of different sizes and shapes and there were an easel and chair right in the middle of the room.

You picked out a large rectangular canvas and placed it landscape on the easel and got to sketching the outline of your painting. If all went to plan, it would be a loop of Draco’s favourite memory of the two of you at the ball, if it didn’t well, then it would be a still image and if everything went south, you’d have to somehow find a way to get some lingerie to distract him from your lack of presents.

Painting the canvas was going to be the hard part, sketching the outline, however, was proving to be a huge nightmare already, you had drawn and redrawn Draco’s face about a hundred times, not being able to get it exactly right. You were about to kick a hole in your canvas when a small a5 picture caught your eye, stuck under the foot of the easel. You picked it up to see a photograph of the exact moment you were trying to recreate. This was why you loved this room, taking a deep breath, you redrew Draco’s face finally getting it as you liked it. By the time you had finished the full outline, it was almost two am, you knew you were going to struggle to wake up in the morning, but that was something for future you to deal with, present you had to find a way to sneak out of the room and back to your dormitory without detection.

In order to make as little noise as possible, you took your shoes off and ran across the castle in just your socks, you were only a few steps away from the entrance to the common room before Mrs Norris came around the corner. She meowed loudly as you whisper-shouted the password, the corridor revealing itself. You ran down it and straight up the stairs into your dormitory. You tried to get into bed as quietly as possible before falling asleep.

In hindsight, staying up sketching until 2 am was a horrible idea. It was only 1 in the afternoon and you were struggling to stay awake.

“I don’t get why you don’t just pay someone to paint it for you,” Daphne asked, scrunching a piece of paper into a ball and throwing it in the bin beside you.

“Because then there's no sentimental value behind it” You replied, massaging your temples.

“What time did you fall asleep anyway?”

“By the time I drowned out Pansy’s snoring it was 3, I was just lucky I had a free period first so I ended up getting an hours extra sleep”

“Merlin, remind me to never fall in love”

You laughed before rubbing your eyes and returning to your work.

It took you four weeks of staying up till 2 am to finish Draco’s painting. You had spent hours mixing the right shades of paint, at one point you ended up getting rid of the paint on the whole canvas and starting again but exactly three weeks before Draco’s birthday, you had mastered the spell to make your painted figures move and your masterpiece was complete. Your only worry was that Narcissa Malfoy would hate it and would stop her son from hanging it in his bedroom.

In order to get the huge canvas from the room of requirement back to your dormitory, you had to ask Neville to ask Harry if you could borrow his invisibility cloak. If Draco had found out that you got Harry’s help you were 90% sure he’d be the one kicking a hole in your canvas. For now, the canvas was safely tucked under your bed.

The next morning, you stuffed Harry’s cloak in your bag and made your way down to meet him. You had agreed the previous evening that you’d meet outside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom before breakfast to make the exchange. As planned, he was stood with Neville right outside the entrance to the toilet. You pulled the cloak out and handed it back to Harry.

“Thank you, I know you and Draco don’t like each other, but it means a lot that you'd go out on a limb to help me.”

“While I question your choice in men, Y/L/N, you’ve helped Neville out on more than one occasion and any friend of Neville’s is a friend of mine.”

You smiled at Harry, “I’m gonna head to breakfast before Draco gets suspicious, see you boys, later”

They waved goodbye as you made your way back to breakfast, stopping in the normal girl's toilet to sort your shirt out which you found you were wearing inside out. Your group of friends were already sat down eating, all but Draco.

“Where is he?” You asked.

“Couple third years said they had to tell him something in private, oh wait, speak of the devil”

You turned and he did not look happy. His jaw was clenched and he was walking oddly fast, he came to you and gripped you firmly by the arm. “Can I speak to you, outside, Y/N”

You looked at him confused but followed him out. As soon as you were out of earshot from the hall he turned around to face you, he looked pissed, he kept walking forward until you were pinned between him and the wall.

“You want to tell me why some friends in 3rd year saw you giving Potter his invisibility cloak back?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, darling, we both know you’re not. ‘it looked like she was holding something but there wasn't anything in her hand’. Why did you have his cloak”

“I was planning on recreating that memory of yours in the restricted section for your birthday, I asked Neville if I could borrow Harry’s cloak to get us there and back but then I remembered you wouldn’t have come if we were using his cloak so I gave it back” You lied smoothly

He swallowed and nodded, not moving back. You pushed him off and scoffed.

“Is this what you’re doing now? Sending third years to follow me?”

“You of all people should know I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Those eyes and ears shouldn't be snooping on your girlfriend”

“They wouldn’t have to if you weren’t lying to me about where you were for the past month.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Helping a 5th year with Charms as per the request of Flitwick? Well not according to the professor himself”

“Dra-”

He laughed, “Can’t even cover up your lies properly. Why don't I give you a few hours to come up with a cover story, I can’t bear the sight of you right now” Draco turned and walked away, ignoring you as you called out for him.

He acted as though you didn’t exist for all of your lessons, he didn't sit next to you, he didn't speak to you, he barely looked at you. You chose to have dinner alone in your room that night. It had occurred to you during your second period that Draco thought you were cheating on him with Harry. It made sense, you were sneaking around and you were seen giving Harry’s cloak back as if to say that you two had been meeting up in secret under it. But it also made absolutely no sense either, you and Draco had been together since the beginning of your 3rd year. Your father was a death eater for Pete’s sake, it didn’t take a genius to realise you’d be disowned if you brought home Harry fucking Potter.

You were partway through your transfiguration homework when Daphne came bounding up into the dormitory.

“Right, what is going on with you and Draco?” She asked, throwing her bag on the floor and collapsing on her bed.

“Nothing,” You lied.

“See that is absolute bullshit because he has been a moody prick all day and you skipped dinner, so come out with it, spill”

You sighed and explained everything.

“Why don’t you just tell him the truth then?”

“Because if I do, it’ll ruin the surprise”

“And if you don’t it’ll end your relationship, my mother is over the moon at the fact that I’ll be a bridesmaid at a Malfoy wedding, you don’t want to crush her dreams do you?”

“You’re right, do you know where he is?”

“He went straight into his dormitory”

You nodded and made your way there. He was joined by his friends.

“Rest of you out, thanks,” You said, walking in and standing in the middle of the room.

Blaise looked at Draco and he nodded, prompting him, Theodore and Goyle to leave. He refused to look at you. You took a seat at the end of his bed and began to explain.

“I’m well aware you think I’m cheating on you with Potter, but that’s really the complete opposite of what’s happening. The truth is, for the past few weeks, I’ve been arranging your birthday present. I finished it last night and I asked for Harry’s cloak so I could bring it back to my dormitory without revealing the surprise. That’s where I’ve been sneaking off to. Not to go snog Potter under his invisibility cloak”

“Oh”

“Bet you feel really fucking stupid now don’t you,” You scoffed

“I’m sorry, darling,”

“Do you not think? Could you imagine my parents’ reaction if I brought home Potter? They’d disown me faster than you came the first time we-”

He grabbed you into a hug before you could finish your sentence.

“I am truly sorry, princess, for jumping to conclusions and for ruining my surprise.”

“Well, you haven’t totally ruined it, you don’t know what it is yet.”

“Can we come back in yet, I need to get out of this fucking uniform” Theodore shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Draco shouted back a yeah and his friends returned.

“See you two’ve kissed and made up, about time too, Draco’s a right git when he's moody”

Draco threw a pair of balled-up socks at Blaise’s head before you got up off the bed.

“I’ll meet you in the common room once I’ve finished my homework,” You told him before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He mumbled an okay before kissing you once more and you were on your way.

The next morning, at breakfast, you noticed your father’s owl descend onto the table in front of you. You took the letter expecting him to fly off and return home but he waited expectantly, clearly, he was told to wait until you replied. He hopped up onto your arms as you took him to the owlery to recuperate while you read your letter and replied.

Y/N,

You’re hopefully aware that it is Draco’s birthday in a few weeks, I hope that you have got him an adequate gift. You know how important your 17th birthday is and as I remember, Draco spoilt you with 17 gifts. Since you are a young lady, you're not expected to gift him anything as lavish as some of the presents he gave you, but tradition dictates that you should get him something worthy of a pureblood wizard, in particular jewels. Please reply as soon as possible, only so I know that you won’t embarrass your father and I (and in the case you do, I can send you an alternative). Your brothers and your father send their regards. We miss you.

Mother

You rolled your eyes at her need for keeping up appearances and quickly scribbled her back a reply. You wished you were at home to see her reaction to you gifting him a painting you painted yourself. Once your father’s owl had filled himself up with water and owl feed, you attached the letter to him and sent him on his way.

Later in the evening, your mother’s owl pecked at you through the library window. You went out into the corridor and took a letter and a box off of her. Once you had freed her of her cargo, she hooted and flew off. You opened the second letter and read.

Sweetheart, I know that you are an accomplished young artist, but a painting will simply not do, especially for his 17th birthday. However, since I am your mother and I know you best, I had a feeling I would need to help you in this department. I took the liberty of going into Bourgin and Burke’s on the weekend and purchased a rare black diamond ring for Draco on your behalf. I think he will like it and I think you will too. I hope you are studying well for your exams,

Mother

You tried to rip open the wrapping on the box but it wouldn't move. The fold at the bottom lifted itself up a bit and ran across your finger, giving you a papercut. A thin line of blood collected on its edge and the wrapping dissolved leaving you with a red ring box, she was always partial to a bit of blood magic. You lifted the lid to see a thick silver band, it looked like it was either white gold or platinum, your mother thought sterling silver was too cheap, the oval cut diamond set atop a larger oval of platinum. It wasn't too plain but it also wasn’t overly gaudy, just as Draco liked it. You returned to the library with your second gift, making a note to hide it under your bed with your painting.

The next few weeks went past in a blur of mock exams and constant revision. Your first exam wasn’t until the 10th of June, giving you plenty of time to celebrate Draco’s birthday properly. The night before his birthday, half of Slytherin house was gathered in the common room waiting for it to hit midnight. You asked the elves to bake a cake for him and smuggled it with some snacks to have a small party with your friends.

At 11.59 you pulled a tie out from behind you and held it up.

“Gonna let me tie you up huh?” Draco asked with a smirk.

“Nice try, Malfoy, but this is for you” You replied getting up and tying it around his eyes.

“What are you doing, Y/L/N?”

You pointed your wand at the wall causing birthday banners and streamers to hang. Blaise brought the cake in from the 1st year dormitory. The large grandfather clock donged deeply as it hit midnight, you pulled his blindfold down as the whole common room burst into a rendition of happy birthday. He laughed and put his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. Nott finished the song on a horrible high note as Draco blew his candles out.

“Make a wish, Draco” Pansy shouted.

“I don’t need to, I've got everything I could wish for right next to me.”

You smiled up at him and gave him a kiss before addressing the crowd. “Eat my friends,” You felt like Dumbledore as plates of food dotted themselves around the common room. The attention moved from Draco to the food as everyone got up and attacked.

“Happy birthday, my love,” You said wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, princess, I wasn’t expecting this at all.”

“Only the best for my boyfriend”

You spent the next few hours playing truth or dare with your housemates, it was cut short when Snape barged into the common room, the decorations were ripped off the wall and the music from the radio stopped.

“I am going to give you until the count of 10 to return to your dormitory, anyone I still see standing here will be spending every weekend for the rest of the year cleaning with filch”

He began to count down from 10 as everyone scrambled to run into their dorms and get into bed.

You were so excited to surprise Draco with his presents that you skipped breakfast, instructing Daphne to tell him to meet you in the astronomy tower. You decided you were going to decorate your spot a little bit, you set up a soft blanket and some cupcakes and hung up the leftover banners and streamers from your midnight party in the common room. You had his gifts wrapped up with ribbon and some bows just to be extra, they sat in the centre of your blanket, the canvas taking up a large chunk of it. You had realised Draco would probably struggle to take the canvas back home, but that would be a problem he would have to deal with later.

“Y/N?” His voice called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“Up here, love” You replied, your head popping up over the bannister.

He broke into a smile when he saw you and rushed up the stairs taking them two at a time. You sat on the edge of the blanket and waited for him.

“Happy 17th birthday, Draco” You exclaimed as he reached the top.

His smile got even wider as he pulled you up and into a tight hug.

“I am so in love with you, do you know that?” he mumbled into your neck.

“I hope you feel the same after you see your presents,”

“Darling, you know you didn’t have to get me anything, you’re the best gift I could have ever received”

“I didn’t have to but I wanted to, here look”

His eyes fell onto the two wrapped gifts, he sat himself down and opened the top present.

“How did you get your hands on this?” he pulled the ring out and examined it closely.

“RIght so backstory to this, my mum didn’t believe that my original present was traditional enough to be a ‘wizard’s 17th birthday present’ so she went out to Bourgin and Burke and got this, but I wouldn’t have given it to you had I thought you wouldn't like it, so think of this as a gift from your in-laws.”

“My father’ll be jealous, he's been wanting a black diamond in his collection for ages now” He put the ring back in the box and was about to shut it.

“Wait, let me put it on. you put my ring on, so I’ll put yours on, practise for the big day”

He smiled at you as you sat down next to him and pulled the ring back out of the box. He held his left hand out for you and you slid the ring onto his ring finger.

“You know after this, they tend to kiss” He grinned.

“Oh yes, of course, if we’re going to practise we should be thorough” You pulled his head down and his lips met yours for a passionate kiss.

He pulled back after a few moments with a grin.

“We should keep practising, just to be on the safe side”

“Enough flirting, Malfoy you have another gift to open”

He turned and picked up the canvas in his hands.

“Is this the one you were sneaking away for?”

You nodded and he began to tear off the wrapping. He got up and placed it against the wall and stood there looking at it, silently. He was silent for a while as he watched the loop of Draco spinning you out and then dipping you on your return with a kiss. Although he hadn't said anything, you got the feeling that he didn't particularly like this gift. He was probably thinking of a way to let you down easily.

“Do you not like it?” You asked quietly.

“What? No!” he turned around with a genuine smile. “I love it, darling, it's perfect. Honestly, it's beautiful.”

You physically relaxed and went to stand next to him. “You said you didn’t like the painting in your room above the fire so I thought I’d give you something to change it with, I’m just not sure if your mother would like it, since its not one of those classical masterpieces.”

“I don’t care what my mother thinks, as soon as I get home, I’m hanging this right up on my wall. I just never knew you could paint like this”

“My mum made me start painting when I was three, I stopped lessons as soon as I started Hogwarts but I kept it up on the side as a hobby and, well, I thought I’d immortalise your favourite memory of us.”

“You never cease to amaze me” He turned and pulled you into him “Thank you,”

“Don’t be silly it’s your birthday, stupid”

“Not just for this, for everything. For putting up with everything, the jealousy, the anger, the-”

“Hey, I’m not putting up with anything, I love you, Draco, all of you”

“Merlin, I can’t wait to marry you” His lips crashed into yours for a frenzied kiss, overwhelmed with emotion. “This is by far the best birthday I’ve ever had, nothing will be able to top this”

And he wasn’t lying. Whenever he was asked, by his kids, his grandkids even his great-grandkids, what his favourite birthday celebration was, his response was always the same, his 17th birthday.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x you #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagines #hogwarts imagines #hp #hp imagines #draco lucius malfoy #slytherin

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dulce-pjm · 3 years

Text

takes two to tango

word count: 3.0k

genre: fluff, absolutely tooth-rotting

summary: hoseok solved his problems and got the girl. he’d worked up the courage to ask you out and now life couldn’t be better, living as your boyfriend. but what’s the point of dating if he can’t even kiss you?

Damn. Hoseok was a real loser, wasn’t he?

Three weeks, three fucking weeks of dating you and he hasn’t been able to kiss you once.

He’d thought the hard part was over when he was finally able to spit out that he liked you before finals and asked you on a date. After a semester of desperate pining and you being completely oblivious to his flirting attempts, he thought the worst was over.

But alas, no.

Your one-month anniversary was rapidly approaching and Hoseok has yet to lock lips with you.

Maybe it’s stupid to be so caught up over such a small thing. But Hoseok likes you and he really doesn’t think it’s too much to ask for and he’d just really, really like to kiss you.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He’d gone through all the steps, even resorting to the cheap tricks he’d used in high school. But the timing was always shit or something stupid got in the way. It felt like the universe had it out for him, putting the chance just within his grasp before promptly yanking it away in the most inconvenient (and sometimes embarrassing) manner possible.

Should Hoseok be grateful for the time he’s already gotten to spend with you? Yes. And he is. You’re spectacular. A joy to be around. You kept him guessing and laughing and happy.

Actually, he’d actually kind of already gotten his wish. You’d kissed him on the cheek in joy after watching your team win whilst on an ice hockey date. You turned out to be surprisingly (and scarily) competitive, which Hoseok found all the more adorable. Despite being a small gesture born from the exciting moment, he’d found himself giggly and shy, melting from the attention. That night, while walking you home in the cold, he’d snuck a quick peck on your forehead before bidding you good night. He found himself wishing he’d done more as you disappeared behind your door, smiling to yourself.

But Hoseok was human. He was greedy. He just wanted one, small, teeny weeny little thing. And that thing was to kiss you on the lips, goddammit.

You weren’t his first girlfriend. He isn’t an amateur at this.

So why was it so fucking hard?

His first attempt was on your second date. Which, admittedly, might be a little soon but it actually wasn’t even his attempt. It was yours. The two of you were ice skating when he kept catching you staring at him.

“What, is there something on my face?” You’d giggled, reaching up your hand and lightly tapping his nose.

“You just look cold. And very cute.” Despite attempting to maintain a cool facade, the compliment had Hoseok reeling. His cheeks only grew warmer as you leaned upwards, eyes becoming half-lidded. He’d grinned, ducking down to meet you halfway.

It was perfect.

Until your skates suddenly lost traction and you slipped, lips colliding with his shoulder instead of his face.

Caught off guard, the both of you tumbled to the ground. In a movie, it might have been even more romantic. But in reality, falling on ice hurts like a fucking bitch. It took an entire minute for you both to get back on your feet, laughing and shouting from the pain along the way.

Cold and traumatized and bruised, the two of you shuffled back to the entrance while clutching onto each other for dear life, kiss long forgotten.

You both swore never to go ice skating again.

Hoseok’s actual first attempt had been at a small Christmas party. Hoseok’s Christmas party, in fact. It was for a small dance exercise class he led every Monday through the university. It was through that same class that he met you, actually. You and several of your friends were regulars, and soon he was smitten. He wasn’t sure whether it was your laugh or your smile or your unending optimism that drew him in, only that he had fallen for you and hard. You two, along with the rest of the group, had naturally gotten close over the past semester, so Hoseok decided to give the group one last hurrah together via a small Christmas party just after everyone finished their exams.

While everyone else was pigging out on brownies or getting drunk off of cheap beer or karaoke-ing to the best of their abilities (which was pretty god-awful), you and Hoseok were camped out in the corner, trying your best to put together a gingerbread house.

You were failing magnificently, but that didn’t make the activity any less fun. Hoseok was in charge of holding the pieces while you piped icing, with you naturally taking every opportunity to swipe bits of the white fluff on his nose and cheeks and forehead. He’d cried out in protest, promising to exact his revenge, but he cared too much about this stupid gingerbread house to move his hands and risk the whole thing collapsing.

But before you could even get to the decorating stage, the whole thing shattered. Literally shattered. You blamed it on Hoseok, claiming he’d been gripping it so hard that the pieces snapped in two. He, in turn, blamed it on you for being such a distraction.

While the two of you were playfully bickering, one of your friends snuck up behind the table with a bunch of mistletoe.

“Kiss already, ya lovebirds!” she’d cried, clearly having one (or three) too many beers. The entire class was painfully invested in your relationship, so it only made sense that they’d also tease you about it relentlessly.

The two of you glanced up at the green leaves and then back at each other. A pitchy rendition of ‘Silent Night’ echoed throughout the room. Hoseok smiled and leaned in, muttering something about “tradition” and “giving the people what they want, Y/N.”

His eyes fluttered closed as his lips approached yours, his last thought being how nice you looked and how warm his heart felt.

It was perfect.

And then you wiped a massive blob of thick white icing across his entire face. He’d gasped while you and the rest of the party burst into a fit of giggles.

“I’m sorry-” You choked on your laughter, tears sprung from your eyes. “-Hoseok, the opportunity was just too good! You should have seen your face!” He didn’t have it in him to be mad at you, not when your laugh was that adorable.

Instead, he’d rubbed his frosting-covered cheek all over yours for revenge as you screeched and struggled against his grip. By the end of the night, both of your cheeks were aching from laughter.

But still, no kiss.

At your annual New Years’ Party, he’d tried a different strategy: being slick.

The two of you were pleasantly tipsy but not quite drunk. And the alcohol gave Hoseok just enough courage to try kissing you again.

While perched on two barstools around your kitchen island, he’d casually thrown his arm around your shoulder while you were babbling about some story a friend had told you. He’d tried to listen, he really did, but what was a guy supposed to you when you looked as cute as you did?

“I mean, what are the odds? They saw each other in standstill traffic, Hobi. Isn’t that so romantic?”

“Mhmm.” Feeling the weight of his arm, you moved to look his way and felt your face getting very hot very quickly with the way he was gazing at you.

“Hobi?” He was much too caught up in how soft your lips looked from here, slightly parted and inviting. Everything about you was soft and sweet.

His eyes flickered back to yours, shimmering under the mood lighting.

He shifted forward, not loosening his gaze for even a second. He was going to relish every second of this, every second of you.

It was so perfect.

But in his drunken stupor, Hoseok hadn’t quite noticed the way his barstool was wobbling until it was too late and he tumbled to the floor.

You immediately freaked, rushing to his aid. While your concern was genuine and made Hoseok happy that you cared for him, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. The mood was dead once you lugged him to the couch and, despite his protests, insisted he lie down for a while and instructed him to not touch any more alcohol, worried that he’d injure himself further. The night ended kiss-free and with Hoseok falling asleep before the clock struck twelve, missing the countdown.

But last weekend? Now that was the final straw.

The two of you had decided to catch a drive-in movie, some silly rom-com. You’d suggested a holiday-themed horror movie, but Hoseok was quick to shut that idea down. Not only was he a coward, but he wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to be romantic when there were demons threatening to jump-scare him every three seconds.

As the two leads finally began confessing their feelings in the final act of the movie, Hoseok looked to you. He found you staring right back, as if you knew this was coming.

His hand lifted to cup your cheek as the male lead cried “I love you!” Your hands slid behind the back of his neck as your eyes shut and the two of you grew closer and closer, lips mere millimeters apart. Hoseok could smell your lavender shampoo and cherry lip gloss, could even count your lashes from here.

It was so fucking perfect. The epitome of romance. As the two leads passionately confessed, Hoseok and you were about to share your first kiss.

And then some idiot fell asleep on their horn, sending the obnoxious, blaring sound echoing throughout the drive-in lot. Hoseok shrieked, absolutely startled to the core.

“For fuck’s sake!” he’d cried, throwing himself back in the driver’s seat.

You’d found immense humor in his pouting and tried to tease him back into his old self, but the moment was long gone. Hoseok cursed the male lead for being able to get his girl when he was so clearly suffering. You held his hand for the rest of the film and jokingly critiqued it on the way home. But it wasn’t enough. Hoseok had just one thing he wanted and he couldn’t even accomplish that.

And now, he had a vendetta against the whole fucking universe.

He was going to kiss you if it killed him. And it was going to be perfect.

He’s chanting that thought like a mantra as the two of you are taking a very romantic stroll in the park, hands intertwined and bodies huddled together to conserve heat in the winter weather.

“I can’t believe we only have one semester left,” you murmur, clutching your coat closer to your body. “I still feel like a kid.”

“Based on your eating habits, I’d have to agree.” You gasp in shock, slapping his arm.

“Hey! What do you have against Lunchables?” Hoseok laughs at your offended look, finding you all too endearing.

“It’s not the Lunchables I have a problem with. Lunchables are great. It’s the cheese and peanut-butter crackers you’re crazy about. It’s disgusting.” You roll your eyes and groan, tired of this argument.

“For the last time, I didn’t know they were cheese flavored and they taste good!”

“Why else would they be orange, Y/N?” You shake your head, refusing to indulge him any further. “Disgusting.”

The two of you approach a quaint bridge crossing a babbling creek. The sky is colored with purples and pinks and oranges, reflected across the water. A few kids are playing by the shore, much to the disdain of their parents. Hoseok feels his chance approaching.

You both stop and lean against the bridge railing, watching the sunset. You nuzzle against him, taking delight in his warmth.

Hoseok studies the way the light reflects off of your face, the way a small smile creeps across your lips. You’re beautiful. Hoseok feels immensely lucky to have had you for this long. There’s a growing part of him that wants to keep you forever.

“You’re so pretty-”

“It’s so pretty-”

The words are uttered at the same time, you staring at the sky and Hoseok staring at you. When you meet his eyes, the two of you can’t help but laugh quietly to yourselves. Timing’s always been funny for you, huh.

As the sun peaks farther behind the horizon, Hoseok tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You can’t fight the grin on your face as Hoseok wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you in.

This is perfect. This is the moment Hoseok has been waiting for. He’d suffered for three miserable weeks, but it was all about to be worth it. There’s absolutely nothing that can shatter the happiness in Hoseok’s heart.

“Oh my god, is that a dog?” You’re torn from Hoseok’s embrace as you dash across the bridge. All he can do is sigh and grasp at the cold air you’d occupied seconds before.��

When he turns to see where you’ve run off to, he finds you plopped on the ground loving on a fluffy black and gold mutt. You crane your neck to face him.

“It doesn’t have a collar, Hobi. I think it’s a stray.” The dog jumps excitedly against your chest, tackling you to the ground and licking at your cheeks and nose and mouth. Showering you with kisses before Hoseok’s eyes.

Lucky bastard.

Hoseok doesn’t have the heart to be mad. You’re too damn adorable. And the dog is pretty cute too. The puppy jumps from you to Hoseok, hopping excitedly and running between his legs.

“Hyper one, aren’t you?”

He begrudgingly takes the creature into his arms and hauls you to your feet, mumbling that he knows where the nearest animal shelter is. You trail after him, doting on the animal the whole way. Hoseok sighs, accepting the fact that he’s not getting his kiss tonight. But he thinks he’s okay with that, what with the way you’re talking in your animal voice and gushing over how cute this dog is.

God, Hoseok’s such a loser. But he’d like to hope that he’s your loser now.

“I miss him already!” you cry as the two of you stumble out of the shelter. Startled by the chill, you quickly take his hand, but even that can’t bring Hoseok the joy he wants.

“He’ll have a nice and loving home soon, don’t worry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair. He does his best to smile, but it comes off strained and fake, and you notice. Your lip immediately puffs out at his sulking.

“Is there something wrong?” Guilt fills Hoseok’s chest at your genuine worry. But he’d been acting strangely since New Year’s, he knew, so he figured at this point he owed you an explanation.

“Well...” Hoseok ponders the situation, trying to put together the right words. “Ireallywannakissyoubutshitkeepsgettingintheway.”

“I- what?” You’re staring at him in utter confusion. Hoseok sighs as you lean in closer, trying to decipher his words.

“I’ve been trying to kiss you for three weeks now but it never works out!” he shouts into the cold night air, relief filling him as he finally gets his biggest worry off of his chest.

You’re silent for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound sweet and loud and in any other case, infectious. Hoseok pouts, wondering how you always manage to find the humor in his suffering. The sun is long set but he can still make out your cackling figure in the lamplight.

You regain your breath before pulling him closer to you, still giggling between your words.

“Why didn’t you just ask?” It’s a genuine question, Hoseok supposes. He’s about to answer, but that’s when you say something that sends him over the edge. “It’s just a kiss, there’s no need to take it so seriously.”

“Of course it’s serious!” he exclaims, making you jump. He quickly lowers his voice, looking at the ground sheepishly. “Well- I only mean that I’m serious about you. So I just wanted it to be nice and romantic and perfect because I care about you a lot and you deserve that, okay? And I know that we’ve only been dating for a few weeks but I really-”

When Hoseok lifts his eyes, you’re whipping your head around wildly, as if you’re being stalked or something is about to pop out from behind a corner.

“Y/N? What are you doing? Is something wrong?” After a few more seconds of your paranoid glances, you meet his eyes, a cheeky grin plastered across your face. You shrug innocently.

“I was just checking to make sure nothing could possibly interrupt us.” Hoseok freezes, jaw dropping slightly. You find the expression hilarious but decide to keep that to yourself. And then Hoseok is smiling like an idiot and pulling you close and running a hand through your hair.

Your lips barely brush against his when you suddenly lean your head back, making Hoseok cry out in frustration. You can’t get far though, not when you’re wrapped in his arms.

“Just for the record,” you say, lifting a single finger between your chests. “That was the most romantic and perfect thing you could have said before our first kiss.” Hoseok rolls his eyes. You choke back a giggle at his impatience. You watch the puffs of condensation leave his lips, considering torturing him for longer, but you don’t. “Now, please continue.”

With your permission, Hoseok does the one thing he’s been waiting all too long for. Despite his pent-up frustration, he kisses you softly and slowly, relishing in every second and every touch.

After a long minute, he pulls away, gazing at you happily. You stare right back, unable to wipe the stupid grin off of your face. You’re content and lovestruck and stupid together. Until a large gust of chilly wind hits you and the two of you are screaming and tearing off back to your respective apartments.

It certainly wasn’t perfect. Maybe a little sloppy. Certainly not like Hoseok would have planned it.

But it was with you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#bts #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts fanfic #hoseok fluff #hobi fluff #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenario #ngl im so proud of this one #this was the concept i toyed and changed with the most but now im in love #dedicated to my lovely friends who inspired and helped build this story #the shortest but def the sweetest #enjoy!!!!

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Text

I’m Weak Too... ~ Bakugou Katsuki

Everyone who knew Bakugou Katsuki had tons of mixed opinions of him - Some thought he was rude, others that he was condescending or patronising, or even conceited and narcissistic, which wasn’t helped by how short-tempered and aggressive he usually was with everyone...But there was one thing that nobody could deny, and that was that his wit and strength were superior to most of the people his age, which is why he was ranked #1 in the U.A. Academy Entrance Exam, and got himself in class 1-A.

Bakugou Katsuki was a child prodigy.

But nobody ever cared enough to find out how he became this way, nor if he is alright.

Nobody saw how much Bakugou Katsuki was hurting, or maybe they were too afraid to even acknowledge that he was capable of feeling anything other than pride and lack of mercy for anyone who even us much as irritated him a little bit.

The only person who was stuck by his side like a parasite was that annoying Quirkless Deku, who was nothing more than a crybaby pest who managed to get himself a Quirk and through nothing more than sheer dumb luck, got in the same class as him.

How stupid.

There was however, another person in that class, who would always go out of their way to ask if he’s okay, would tell him dumb jokes or funny pick up lines, to try and get him to smile, and for the rest of the class, the actions of L/N Y/N were absolutely bouffonic, and she was writing herself a death sentence.

L/N Y/N was a bit of an odd one, someone that nobody could quite pinpoint...

She was strong, but she also wasn’t. She was smart, but she also wasn’t. She was popular, but she also wasn’t. She was sociable, but she also wasn’t.

L/N Y/N was nothing more than a walking, living, breathing paradox...

She was aloof, yet down to earth. She was goofy, yet serious. She was outgoing, yet timid. She was...

Hell knows what she was.

But Bakugou Katsuki knows what she is.

She is annoying as hell.

He had no idea how she got in 1-A through recommendation, like that stupid Half’n’Half, or that stupid rich, smart girl.

She wasn’t as smart as other adults made her out to be, nor was she brilliantly strong. She wasn’t diligent, not hardworking, and she never bothered to get good grades in tests and exams...And even her Quirk seemed not too cooperate most of the time.

She almost seemed as Enigmatic and weirdly personal with Aizawa, as Quirkless Deku is with All Might...And the fact that there may be more than meets the eye with this airhead really pissed him off.

She was an Enigma that nobody could unveil, much like a grey butterfly.

That’s why, during the USJ attack, was completely taken aback to see her going out of her way to kill the minor villains attacking their homeroom teacher...And then more...He was her attacking the blue haired freak, then getting completely smashed by that Nomu monster when she tried to push Aizawa out of the way of harm, and then, when he thought she was dead, she used her Fire Quirk to save Frog girl, Grape boy and Deku.

That was the first time he ever noticed her strength...That she wasn’t as innocent and frail as she wanted others to think she was.

She made her facade completely crumble...At least for him.

Seeing how she managed to get up and use her Quirk to empower All Might’s strength, as she ran solely on pure anger and adrenaline...She was running on pure spite and revenge...

It pissed Bakugou Katsuki so much realising that some stupid Extra like her managed to get so much action, helping the teachers where it was actually needed, willing to throw away her physical body to do what was right...

While all he did was beat up 2-3 villains from some burning, collapsing building.

How pitiful this Bakugou Katsuki was if he was being bested by some no name like her.

No...This had to be a mistake.

She got in that state because she was reckless, powerless, tactless.

If that was him, he wouldn’t have ended up in a hospital, burnt and broken, more dead than alive.

Then again, so did Aizawa, and he couldn’t say he was weak...

The few next days, L/N Y/N came to school, bandaged and with crutches, and she was behaving like the idiot she always was.

Clueless, clumsy, stupid, naive...

Bakugou Katsuki realised he had some sort of proper competition in her, not only in Quirkless Deku and Icy Hot...And he was more than pissed when he saw how lame she was being.

Why the hell was she hiding her potential?!

But then, the Sports Festival came...

And she was #1 in the first round.

And then, she paired up with him, and together, managed to get #1 in the second round as well.

Bakugou Katsuki analysed her every move, every step, every blink, and he realised that, compared to the USJ incident, she was barely using her Quirk. Going by the state Aizawa was in, he could only question the reason why she wouldn’t just sit back and properly heal and rest her injuries.

Maybe she was restless? Maybe she had something to prove?

But she couldn’t possibly take away the #1 spot from him, that’s for sure.

It was the semi finals...And he had to fight her.

He almost felt...Guilty, when he realised he’d have to fight a girl in recovery. He almost felt like a villain.

That is, until he started walking down the Stadium, to go on the field, and he noticed her there, leaning on the wall...

Waiting for him.

With a coy smirk on her face...Yet her face looked serene and aloof.

“Yooo, ‘Tsuki, ‘sup?” she chuckled, seeing his tensed expression. “Don’t speak to me so familiarly.” he grunted, stepping in front of her. “Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to ask you a question. Won’t take more than a minute, but just hear me out.” she grinned at him carelessly. “Whadya want?” Bakugou Katsuki asked, crossing his arms. “I wanted to ask you what would you want me to do - Forfeit, or fight you.” L/N Y/N asked, but before she could explain, she got picked up by the neck of her blouse and pinned to the wall. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT QUESTION?! ARE YOU MOCKING ME, YOU STUPID EXTRA?!” he growled at her like an angry lion. “No, no, goodness, nothing like that. It’s just...I know you want to be #1, and with me being in the state that I am, I won’t prove to be much of a challenge to you, and that’s why I wanted to know what you wanted me to do. That, and...I wanted to make sure your arms were okay.” she ended in a softer tone, putting her gentle hands over his wrists, as a way to get him to put her down. “...My arms? Why wouldn’t they be okay?! What are you on?” he stepped back, giving her a look of shock and almost concern. “I saw you rubbing your arms earlier. It means you must have been overusing your Quirk, right? That’s not a good sign for your health...Saying from experience.” she chuckled softly, angering Bakugou Katsuki even more. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ON ABOUT?! You’re gonna go there and fight me with all you’ve got, even if it kills you, got it?! GOT IT?!” he yelled at her, making her grin wider before walking towards the stage. “Very well, then don’t hold back, ‘Tsuki. I can’t promise you the dream fight you deserve, but I will do my best.” was the only proper conversation they’ve had since they started their education at U.A...

And he did just as she said.

He fought her with every little bit of power he had in his body, fighting her as if she was back in USJ, showing off her strength for the first time.

He wasn’t wasn’t used to fighting against a fire user like her, as Todoroki never used his other half, for God knows what reasons...

And Bakugou Katsuki was forced to admit, to himself, at least, that she was indeed the strongest person he ever fought so far...And he could only imagine what it would be like, were she not impaired by her wounds.

He started noticing her arms getting burns on her skin, gradually, like spirals going up from her fingers, to her hands, forearms and arms... And then it continued up her torso, visible as she was wearing a crop top, and her jacket was unzipped...And then, her neck and face had burn stripes...

She was doing everything she could...

For his sake.

One of his explosions managed to propel both of them on the opposite ends of the field, and she was on the ground, laying, seemingly helplessly, which is when the people watching started to boo him, to shun him, to call him a villain.

He looked around him, seeing the angry, hateful glares of those watching him...He felt cornered, afraid...His heart was small, hating to be scolded or to have others disapprove of him...

But more than anything, he felt confused.

Didn’t everyone love a strong hero...?

Katsuki seemed to almost fall down into a spiral, until he heard a voice angrily shouting, her voice echoing everywhere... And it was angry, just as it was back in USJ.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, PEOPLE?! You call yourselves Pro-Heroes? PRO-HEROES MY ASS! You’re SHIT! Go and look for another job, this ain’t for ya! You’re seriously calling Bakugou Katsuki a villain, of all thing, when his greatest ambition is to be an amazing Hero for everyone?! REALLY?! You dare call yourselves Pro-Heroes, but you don’t respect Bakugou Katsuki for acknowledging my strength, for respecting me, and fighting me like his equal? HOW IS THAT A VILLAIN, are you brainwashed or something?!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, as she managed to get up once again, resting her hands on her knees, and panting after each sentence, as she was obviously tiring herself out. “Thank you for fighting me fair and square, ‘Tsuki. I won’t forget that.” she nodded at him, smiling weakly.

Was she...Defending him...In front of everyone...?

What the hell was she doing?

Katsuki was so confused...

Why would she do something like this...?

He was so used to being villainised by everyone for following his ambitions...And now...Someone was praising and defending him...For being himself?

This image in front of him...This Y/N in front of him...

This was the same Y/N that got up out of spite, her only fuel being anger and justice.

This is Y/N...The only person that personally inspired him.

She wasn’t just some stupid extra, and nor was she the lameass facade she had for everyone.

This is the real Y/N.

They started fighting again, as Bakugou Katsuki was yelling at her to keep up with him, to fight him all she’s got, and his drive matched hers completely...

Until she started jumping on the flying debris caused by the explosions, and her legs gave out from over-exhaustion and pain, which caused her to lose balance and fall in front of him, deactivating her Quirk for just a split second-

Which was enough for him to unintentionally blast her out of the borders of the stage.

His eyes were wide with shock and fear, he didn’t mean to do it, she deactivated her Quirk in the second that he activated his.

His wide, crimson eyes were unfocused, as he could only stare at the hand that blasted her away, the only thing that kept swimming in his head being the soft smile that she had on her face as she was sent flying away.

It was almost as if she knew he didn’t mean it, and she wanted to reassure him.

What the hell is wrong with this girl...?

“I-I’m...Okay...!” her voice brought him back to reality as he saw her small form, far, far away from him, looking almost like an ant, sitting on the grass, a weak grin on her face, her thumb up in the sky, reassuring everyone...No, she was reassuring him...

She was okay.

And he shouldn’t blame himself for worsening her injuries.

For the rest of the day, his mind was filled only with thoughts of that girl...That annoying Y/N who was playing so much with his mind and heart.

What was so special about her that made him go crazy like this?!

Because, as soon as they got back to school, and she looked like a mummy from all the bandages, she was back to her stupidly annoying self...Facade, rather.

What the hell is wrong with her...?

Not to mention, she intentionally came out with a stupid hero name, so Midnight would refuse to let her choose it, so she’ll get off the hook.

Days passed...Weeks passed...

And Bakugou Katsuki was still analysing every little thing L/N Y/N did, but no matter what happend, there was no trace of the Y/N from both times...

She was smarter than she wanted to let others see, that much was obvious.

And then, came that dreadful night...Where 1-A and 1-B were made to go on some kind of training camp...And they were attacked by villains.

They fought and fought, but Bakugou Katsuki was captured and brought to the Villains’ lair.

But...Next to him...On the chair next to him...With the same arm restraints he had...

Was her.

L/N Y/N.

With the same ridiculously stupid smile on her face.

First, there was only this burnt guy, Dabi, and he seemed to have a fun chemistry with the girl, which confused Katsuki so much.

Why was she so friendly with villains?!

“Yooo, what’s yo’ name? I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” she lifted her arms slightly, as a way to greet him, with an ever so cheerful dumb grin. “Dabi, pleasure’s all mine.” Dabi’s smirk was as aloof as hers was, no wonder they kicked off so well. “Can you show me your Quirk again? I’ve always had a thing for Fire Boys...And Blue. Y’know, being a Fire Girl myself...And Blue and Red makes for a pretty Lavender, dontcha think?” she leaned back, trying to get herself comfortable. “You want me to entertain you, Fire Girl? Well, I guess you earned it. You put up quite the fight in front of everyone else.” he gave her a low chuckle, as he extended his hand towards her, upwards, making a fireball in his hands. “Ehhh, that’s such a beautiful colour...Mine is so usual. I’m so jealous of you, y’know? You can burn people alive without a second thought. I can’t. Red and Yellow fire will never be as...Hot...As your Blue fire.” she giggled at her playful attempt at flirting. “A hero flirting with a villain...Isn’t that interesting?” he smirked, leaning back on the table behind him. “Hero? Me? Hah, don’t make me laugh. Heroes...What the hell is a true hero, anyway? This world...This society...Is nothing more than a farce. A fake. Everything is nothing more than a facade, and everyone wants to live in it and continue lying to themselves.” she gave him a dry laugh, which made Katsuki’s head shoot up, staring at her in shock. “Interesting...And intriguing...And yet, you’re in U.A...I wonder why.” he tilted his head to the side, almost questioningly. “Why...? Take a better look at my hair. The tips are on fire. Does it look to you that I have a proper grasp on my Quirk? Nope. So there you have it, I got in to learn how to control my power...And hopefully, not cause my sister permanent burns...Again.” she looked away with a self-deprecatory look.

Sister...?

Since when did she have a sister? She never mentioned a sister before-

No, actually, she never talked about her family. Ever.

She’s an Engima, wrapped in mystery and shadows.

“Awww, toots has a sister, isn’t that adorable. If you ask me, the fire tips give a boost to your charm.” he tried to say, but he was interrupted mid-way by a loud door slam, as a blond girl got inside. “Ahh, Dabi, you got here before me!” the girl gasped, as she skipped in front of the two prisoners. “I’m Toga Himiko, nice to meet you!” she grinned at them, with a blush painting her cheeks. “Himiko? My, you have such a pretty name! I’m L/N Y/N, nice to meet you as well! I’m hug you or something, but, uh...I’m being a bit...Restrained.” she winked at the girl as she made that bad pun. “Hahaha, she’s a fun one! Wanna be my best friend? You’re so cute!” Himiko started gushing over the girl, who blushed softly. “Best friend? I’ve never had a best friend! Yes, I’d love that, Himiko! We can gossip about others, and talk about boys!” the girl was being enthusiastic, almost vibing in that chair. “And we can do each other’s make up, hair and nails! Oh, oh, and we can go shopping!” Himiko was literally bouncing up and down on her feet. “Twice! Twice, get here! I’ve made a new best friend! Isn’t she so cool?!” she started giggling, as Twice got in, and started gawking at the girl, completely ignoring the blond boy next to her. “Whaaa, she looks cool! I bet she’s shitty.” Twice talked, contradicting himself. “Great, I’m gonna have a headache now.” Dabi sighed, rolling his eyes. “Say, say, Y/N, do you like anyone? Or do you have a type?” Himiko leaned down to get closer to her face. “W-Well...Y-You see...Your friend, Dabi...He’s pretty hot...Ahhh, I’m blushing, and I can’t hide my face because of the restraints. What about you, Himi?” she closed her eyes, her bottom lip quivering from embarrassment, as she could hear Dabi’s dark chuckle...And something warm going down her cheek. “He’s so cute...! My crush...Deku, he’s so cute! I’m gonna make him mine, some day!” the blonde girl licked her blood-dripping knife, her face looking even more euphoric than before. “Is my blood sweet? I hope it is! I always wanna be cute and sweet! Maybe that way, others will like me!” Y/N giggled back at her. “Yess, it’s one of the sweetest I’ve tasted so far!” Himiko seemed to have a pleased expresion. “Deku...So, you like Broccoli boy. I’m sure I could get you two to see each other, if you want. He is my classmate, after all...And he’s pretty...Naive.” she winked at the villain girl, who started squealing in happiness...

Until the big bad guy came, along with a few others.

“Ahh, Shiggy, was it? It’s lovely seeing you again, after so long! Great fight, back then...But, uh...Y’know...I’d rather get smashed by Dabi, here, than by some ugly monster, y’know?” she laughed cheerfully, which made Dabi snort and look away in amusement, as Tomura could only grit his teeth in mild annoyance. “You were pretty cool back there too, I must admit. But you’re a hero. You’re like all of them, aren’t you?” Tomura’s voice was low and dangerous. “Hero...Haha...What a joke. If heroes were all good, selfless and altruistic as they wanted to appear, they wouldn’t benefit over us. They wouldn’t get away with the shit they do. They wouldn’t have their mistakes covered and buried away from the face of the Earth, just to keep up a blind facade...Or maybe, it’s the fault of the civilians, for wanting to live and believe in a blatant lie.” the ever-so-cheerful grin from her face was replaced by a dark expression, something so full of anger and hatred, that Katsuki was almost afraid of. “Take off her restraints.” Tomura muttered, and Dabi did just so, allowing the girl to get up and stretch a bit. “All of you here became so-called Villains for a reason, didn’t you? You hold so much hatred for the heroes, because all of you were wronged in some way. You want justice...You want the justice that was never given to you. How am I any different from any of you, I wonder?” she spoke, almost dramatically, and Katsuki couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “Oh...? What am I hearing...? Little Miss Hero thinks she’s in the same boat as us...?” Tomura got to his feet, stepping in front of her, towering over her smalled form. “Heroes, villains, civilians...What’s the difference, in the end? Morals? Ethics? The kill count? Are there no evil heroes, or altruistic villains out there? The world isn’t black or white, it’s a spectrum of all the shades of grey existent, which people seem to completely overlook. Nobody truly cares, do they? We’re just pretending to care. This life is nothing more than a struggle, a stupid mummer’s charade, and we’re all the puppets lead by some stupid master.” she looked up at him with a defiant look, as his hand grasped her neck faster than a cobra attacking its prey, making everyone gasp. “You speak bold...I like you...But how will I know you’re not bluffing. If I just...Let my little finger touch your neck...Well, I’m sure you already know what’s going to happen, don’t you?” Shigaraki smirked with those incredibly chapped lips. “You know...If you were to get a proper skin care routine, and use some lip balm, I’m sure you’d look 10...No, 20 times hotter than you already do. Your hair looks so fluffy and pretty though...I wanna play with it...” she played around dumbly, annoying Shigaraki enough to slap her, with all 5 fingers, decaying a bit of her face.

It seemed like the world stopped.

For Katsuki, for Shigaraki, for Y/N, and for everyone else.

The tension was so dark and intense, that you could cut it with a knife.

“I heard that you’re in cahoots with All For One, aren’t ya? That fucker...If I could, I would kill him. I would torture him to death...And that wouldn’t be even 10% of what hell he made me go through. That stupid father of mine...A so called hero. Nothing more than a good for nothing lackey...His loyalty was swaying to the highest bidder. Scum. Trash. That’s what he was. And you’re telling me...I don’t know what’s like to have your life fucked over by heroes...? Really...? I think you’re the one who speaks boldly, Shigaraki Tomura.” the girl spoke in a voice so low, dark and threatening, that it made Katsuki’s heart tremble with fear and curiosity. “That’s more like it! Now tell me...No, tell US! Tell us how bad heroes are! Tell me of the justice you got!” Shigaraki continued to provoke the girl, so much that she snapped and pushed him away from her, glaring and growling so much that he hair tips were lit again. “Justice? WHAT justice? Nobodies like me don’t deserve any justice! All For One persuaded my father to leave us and become a villain. And then what? My mother was so heartbroken that she hanged herself! I was barely 12 years old...And she left me all alone, with a 3 year old sister to take care of. What did the Heroes do? They faked my father’s disappearance, my mother was written out of this world, as if she never even existed...But did anyone take responsibility for us? Of course not! Nobody gave a damn about us! NOBODY!” her voice was so full of pain, so broken, and for the first time ever, Katsuki was beginning to doubt everything he stood for so far. “You’ve been so hurt, and yet, you still stand by their side. Why?” Shigaraki’s eyes bore into hers, and it seemed like they almost understood each other. “I don’t care what I have to do, as long as my father and All For One die. For the past 4 years I’ve been working day and night...Studying, doing illicit part time jobs, just to get the money to raise my sister, so the both of us won’t get thrown or separated in a filthy orphanage. I’m so fucking exhausted, man. I just want to live long enough to see my revenge happening. That is the only reason I’m still alive. That, and I have to make sure my sister is okay. She’s so young, and she’s suffered enough...So, Shigaraki, if you want to kill me, now is your time to shine! You can have be by the throat, or you can have me stabbed...Or even cremated. Just say the word.” she provoked him right back, which made him laugh dryly. “I like this look on your face, Y/N! I get ya, I totally get ya! Come on, take a seat here, at the bar, next to me. Look at your friend over there...Do you see that look in his eyes? He’s shocked. He’s confused. And you managed to do all that! Haha...But y’know what’s even better? Look at the news! Look at your homeroom teacher and principal talking!” Shiggy mocked Bakugou Katsuki, as he let the news on, not making any noise, until it was over. “Don’t you think it’s strange? Why are the heroes being criticised? The way they were dealing with things was juuust a little off. Is it because it’s their job to protect? Everyone makes a mistake or two. Are they supposed to be perfect? Modern-day heroes are so uptight. Don’t you think, Bakugou?” the blue haired one continued. “That’s how it’s always been, and will always be. The stronger ones will get criticised for any mistake they do...And the weaker ones are going to get ganged up and bullied by the others. So fair, isn’t it?” Y/N sighed, crossing her arms and putting her ankle over the other knee. “Is this society truly just, I wonder? We’re going to get everyone to think over. And we’ll be winning. You like winning too, don’t you~? ... Dabi, release his restraints.” Shigaraki ordered the brunet man. “Huh? This guy’s gonna fight, you know?” Dabi turned to look at him with confusion. “He won’t.” the girl muttered, flashing the blond a look for warning. “Don’t worry, it’s fine! We need to treat him like an equal, since we’re scouting him. Besides, you can tell if you’ll win or not if you fight in this situation, right, U.A. student?” Shigaraki reassured him, very carefree.

After that, Dabi made Twice remove Bakugou Katsuki’s restraints, as Mr. Compress apologised for being so forceful, making Tomura continue his explanation.

But of course, Bakugou Katsuki was angry at the League of Villains, so he blasted for Twice and Shigaraki away, glaring at them, grinning with a determined, murderous look on his face.

This was bad.

Out of fear for her fellow colleague, Y/N jumped in front of him, her arms outstretched in a way to defend him, should anything happen.

However, Shigaraki told them not to fight, despite Bakugou Katsuki’s blatant aggressiveness, telling them to fuck off...And so, Mr. Compress and Kurogiri were ordered to make both of them go back to sleep.

Fat chance.

“You said he’s valuable for you, right? Then don’t make him go back to sleep. I’ll make sure he doesn’t destroy or attack anything, so just leave him alone.” the girl gritted her teeth, attentively looking at each and every one of them.

There she was.

She was standing up for him and defending him again.

What the hell is wrong with him? Does he look so helpless and vulnerable to her?

What the hell was going on with him...?

How could he possibly become a hero, let alone one like All Might, when he let himself get captured, and now, he has someone stand up for him repeatedly?

His thoughts were all a jumbled mess, until the anti-climatic pizza guy rang the door bell...

Only for All Might and other heroes to smash through, as Kamui bound everyone, Gran Torino made Dabi faint, and Edgeshot came to help.

“I’m sorry for the delay. I’m sure you were scared, but it’s fine now!” All Might reassured them...And Katsuki’s bottom lip was quivering... “No need for anyone to worry about me, All Might...You guys did really well...I guess...” the girl let her arms fall to her sides, looking with mixed feelings at the villains. “Don’t be too harsh on them, please. They aren’t too different from me...Now, do what you have to do. I’ll get Katsuki out of here...And don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to him, no matter what.” the girl said, but as soon as she finished her words, Nomus started appearing out of nowhere, even though Kurogiri was unconscious.

This must be the work of All For One.

As the girl was ready to get the blond out of there, a black mist started engulfing him, and realising the gravity of the situation, she threw her arms around him, letting herself be teleported away with him...

The same as when he got kidnapped in the first place.

...

They were in front of All For One.

And Katsuki wasn’t aware of that.

But Y/N knew.

She knew.

Because behind him, from the smoke and dust, her father emerged, almost like a shadow.

Growling, she pushed Katsuki much behind him, standing in a defensive position, attentive for any possible attack.

All For One...Was like a teacher for Shigaraki Tomura. He was like a father for him.

And Y/N was angry that she could feel sympathy for him...For them.

“All Might is going to defeat you again, All For One. And I’m glad I will be here to witness your fall.” the girl growled, trying to keep her composure in front of the nightmare she’s been living for the last years. “You are right. Because he is here, L/N Y/N.” he chuckled darkly, as the girl dragged Katsuki away, leaving way for the two to clash.

Katsuki was watching with shock and horror at the enemy being able to repel the Symbol of peace like that.

All the villains then gathered around Katsuki, ready to take him away and go through the Warp gate.

“Don’t worry about us, All Might! I will protect Katsuki! You take care of that bastard, and stop worrying about us!” Y/N yelled at the Hero, so he will stop being distracted.

As she said that, she did a flip, kicking the blond away from those villains, as she activated her Quirk and did a huge fire bubble around him, so intense that they wouldn’t be able to approach. She kept that fire going with one hand, as with the other she kept defending herself from everyone’s attacks, especially Mr. Compress’, who was trying to get them away.

She kept trying to fight them, as Katsuki was cursing her, trying and failing to get out of the bubble she created, a loud noise was heard, and she noticed Midoria, Iida, Kirishima and Todoroki using their Quirks to jump high into the sky above them, as Kiri was extending his hand towards them to get them out of here.

Smirking widely, she let out the fire from around him, ran as fast as she could, and used the fire she had to propel herself, while dragging Katsuki with her by the wrist, and along with his explosions, they reached everyone.

That is, if Y/N didn’t do one last effort to throw Katsuki to them, and in return, her falling behind.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine! Get the hell outta here, all of you!” was the only thing Katsuki heard, as he tried to get out of Kirishima’s grasp, trying to get the girl to join them...

But he failed.

Again.

And all he could do was go to safety with the other two, watching from the big screen as Y/N and All Might were going to fight All For One and Y/N’s father.

“Don’t you dare send me away, Yagi Toshinori. You owe me at least this much, for everything I’ve been put through. You owe me my revenge on these two people. I’m done being the better person.” she got in an attack position, earning a nod from the hero beside her. “I do owe you at least that. Don’t be rash, and stay focused.” All Might advised her one more time.

Her father could only laugh as he was fighting her.

He laughed at how pitiful she was. He laughed at her emotions. He laughed, not caring about the family he created, and how he destroyed it. He laughed as...

As he held Y/N’s little sister captive.

And he was mocking her, telling her that she will kill the kid if she didn’t obey.

It was then that Katsuki realised he couldn’t breathe anymore, and his heart wasn’t sure if it stopped altogether, or was beating too fast to keep track of.

He was feeling anxious and truly scared for the first time in his life.

What would he have done, should he have been in her situation?

Would he freeze? Would he attack? Would he give up and obey?

He couldn’t answer.

It was impossible.

But...The girl had an answer.

Rage.

Her anger was so beyond limit that, with a loud, raw roar of anger, hatred, agony, and all the pent up frustration she’s been bottling over the years, and without her knowledge, a huge aura of white fire created around her, as she went to attack, and burn alive, the father that destroyed her life.

She was afraid to touch her sister, but Gran Torino and Mount Lady were there to prioritise the rescue of the little girl, allowing Y/N to fight him properly.

Katsuki didn’t need words to see the pain she was harbouring in her heart, as each battle cry gave away the agony she was living in.

Katsuki didn’t need to be told what emotions she was feeling, as the tears in her eyes were enough proof.

Katsuki didn’t need to ask how if she cared for her future, as the blood and burns her Quirk is causing her were a silent answer.

If he could, Katsuki would go right back at her and get her away from there, defend her the same way she did...At USJ, at the Sports Festival, inside the bar...And now, in front of the worst villain ever, All For One.

Katsuki’s eyes were stinking, and his whole body was trembling with emotion and worry.

That stupid Y/N.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Stupid, dumb, clumsy, clueless, frail, vulnerable, idiotic, extra, dumbass Y/N!

Why the fuck do you always have to defend him, and get yourself in such shitty situations in front of him?!

Do it somewhere else, where he won’t feel guilty that he left you alone!

Do it somewhere else, where he can’t see your body bloody, broken, lying there lifelessly!

Stop protecting him!!!

Stop defending him!!!

Stop...Stop! STOP ALREADY!

Please...PLEASE-....PLEASE!

Please, Y/N, just stop already!

Run away, come to me, let me defend you for fucking once!

Stop smiling that stupid grin of yours, when you’re more dead than alive!

Yes, he won the fight against some lame villain like her father, but the state she was in? She was good for nothing else than bait against All Might!

And Katsuki could only watch as she fell to her knees, as her father wasted away in nothing more than dust and ashes into the wind... Only for All For One to pick her up by the neck, using her as a shield, so All Might wouldn’t be able to hit him again...

But All Might is smart, and quickly picked Y/N in one hand, and hit AFO with the other, despite the damage he got to himself.

“Toshi...Don’t mind me...Please...Take care of yourself...” the girl coughed blood on the ground, as she managed to get up from the ground, but this time, she wasn’t sure how much the adrenaline she had running through her veins was going to help much.

But things were getting bad, and all the heroes could see it, broadcasted on live television...And only they were truly able to realise the extent of the problem they were in.

As AFO kept taunting All Might, Y/N encouraged him to keep fighting, despite seeing that he was deflating...Changing. With all the last strength she had, she patted Toshinori on the back, as she rushed to save a woman from beneath the ruins, allowing the Hero to fight the villain leisurely...

But the last wave...Completely revealed All Might’s true form.

That of a skeleton.

And Katsuki realised...That the fall of All Might was caused by him.

He destroyed the Symbol of Peace.

It was his fault.

All his fault.

But then...Then...All For One did spoke so much...All with the intention to break Toshinori’s heart...To break him...His mind, his heart, his soul.

He told him the truth.

Shigaraki Tomura...Shimura Tenko...Shimura Nana’s grandson..His master’s own grandson...

The master that All For One himself killed.

“ALL MIGHT! FIGHT! DON’T LOSE YOUR COMPOSURE! YOU’RE ALL MIGHT! YOU’RE THE SYMBOL OF PEACE! WIIIIIIIIIIN! ALL MIGHT, WIIIIIIIINNN!!!” Y/N shrieked at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her face, as she let out a rope of fire to wrap around his arms, empowering him.

She had no idea that the desperate shout she gave made the people watching the broadcast join in the chant.

WIN!

ALL MIGHT, WIN!

YOU MUST WIN!

ALL MIGHT!

As AFO attacked again, Endeavour, Kamui Woods, Edgeshot and other Pro-Heroes joined the fight...Helping All Might...Encouraging him...Telling him that everyone is praying for his success...

And the girl too...

She got up, dragged herself by his side, put her hand over his wrist, and dragged it up in the air.

“NOBODY CAN DEFEAT ALL MIGHT, THE SYMBOL OF PEACE! ROT IN HELL, ALL FOR ONE!” she cried out once again, trying her best to encourage the #1 hero...

But AFO had other plans.

With a powerful shockwave, he blew away everyone, except for All Might.

It took just one more punch...Two more...Three more, actually...For All Might to finish the fight, with that broken and bloody body of his...

He put in that last punch all the fire he had left in his heart, and managed to defeat him completely...

But so...

So disappeared One For All as well.

As soon as the smoke and dust cleared, Y/N saw Toshinori still standing, raising his fist towards the sky, and she started crying harder, yelling out his name in happiness, as everyone was chanting his name.

Despite not even being able to stand up, the girl used the last of her powers to get up, run to him and hug him tightly from the back, sobbing in relief.

“Next, it’s your turn.” was the last thing All Might said on TV.

Everyone interpreted it differently, most people thinking that it was a threat for the villains...

But the truth was otherwise.

“I have used up everything I had in me.”

One For All was done for, and so was All Might.

And it was all the fault of the powerless Bakugou Katsuki.

---

To allow children to continue studying, U.A. built dorms for all the students, and now, each homeroom teacher had to go to all families of their students and ask for permission.

It was all fine and dandy...

But Bakugou Katsuki’s family...

Or rather said, his mother...

Well, Aizawa and Toshinori could understand why Bakugou Katsuki had so much pent up rage and frustration, so much anger and suppressed worries and pressure on his shoulders.

His mother wasn’t the most...Gentle one.

She was as aggressive as he was...Or rather, that’s where he got it from.

Casually slapping the back of his head, blaming him for being too weak and allowing himself to get kidnapped, which in turn, is causing everyone so much trouble, saying that he’s hopeless, and needs to be taught a lesson, constantly yelling at him...

“Is...That alright...?” Toshinori asked, worrying a bit for the blond. “Yeahh, that’s alright, he can take it.” was Bakugou Mitsuki’s reply.

He can take it...?

The slaps? The criticism? The insults? The yelling? The abuse? The trauma? The guilt? The pressure? The facade?

He certainly can take it all...

Can’t he...?

But really...Can he really...?

After what happened at Camino...What he felt, what he saw, what he did...

Can he really take it anymore...?

Bakugou Katsuki can certainly take it, since he doesn’t care about anyone around him, nor for their words or actions...

But can Katsuki take it?

Can the broken boy inside of him, the one that has so much pressure, so much pain, so many insults, mistakes and guilt thrown at him one after the other? Can the boy who feels so inferior to the Quirkless Deku that became his Idol’s favourite...

Can he really take it?

---

And so, they moved in the dorms, and since she had nobody to leave her with, Y/N was forced to bring her sister, much to the displeasure of the teachers, but it had to be done.

One of the Pro-Heroes was forced to escort her to school, and back home, at all times as well.

It was a drag, but after all, it wasn’t Y/N’s fault, it was the heroes’ fault this all happened to her.

Everything seemed fine, but only or a little while, clearly, as one day, they heard some arguing from the living room, only to notice a bandaged up Y/N arguing with Aizawa, which wasn’t something anyone would expect.

After all...

Who and WHY would you fight with your homeroom teacher...?

“Well, it’s not my fault either, is it? I wasn’t able to rely on you, Heroes, for the past 4 years, why should I now? Sure, we have some food and stuff, but after this? I have no money, and neither does my sister, obviously. If U.A., or that stupid Government that screwed up my life had any money to spare for the trauma they caused us, they would have given it to us already, right? So come on, turn a blind eye, sign this, and let me go already.” she tried her best to keep herself civil, as Aizawa could only sigh, understanding her concerns. “Look, Y/N, I’m just your homeroom teacher, I’m not the president, and I don’t make the rules. If things were my way, they would have been much different. The police doesn’t let children out of the house either, and Principal Nezu is concerned about all of you. I can’t allow you to risk your life every day to go work, even though I completely understand your concerns.” he tried to explain, but it only angered the girl further. “And after I’m done with this place? What am I going to do? I have no money, I can’t pay for the bills to keep my house, I can’t pay for food, for clothes, for my sister’s books or other things...She’s turning 8 soon, y’know? And what am I supposed to do? Smile and say BLAME THE HEROES WE’RE BROKE? Come on...You can’t expect me to work 3 jobs when we get out of the Dorms, right? You do realise I can’t take it anymore, right?!” her voice was beginning to break, it was getting a bit more pitched, and Katsuki realised how much she was hurting, for the first time since they got in 1-A. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I know this has been the hardest for you. I will try to talk around again, but I don’t know what we can do. You have great grades, I will at least try, at the end of the year, to fight for a monthly scholarship for you. You deserve it. If things get calmer over time, I will try to convince the Principal to give you permission to work, since yours is a special case.” Aizawa could see how overly exhausted his student was, and knowing her past and all the struggles she’s been going through, he couldn’t help but hug her, patting her hair reassuringly. “I’m exhausted, Aizawa...I don’t know how long I can go on. My body, my heart, my mind...They’re all...Shattered. Now that I’ve accomplished the goal I set myself...My father is dead...All Might defeated All For One...What do I live for? Why am I still here, just to suffer? Do I really have to live for another person? Am I really alive, just to support my sister financially? But...But what about me...? I’ve been working since I was 12...Working and studying all the time...With no actual breaks...I’m collapsing and I can’t see a way out...I’m...I’m...I’m weak too, you know...?!”

I’m weak too...

I’m...

Weak...

How...Can she say that...With such ease?

How can she admit to being weak and vulnerable?

How can she say all that, and yet, Aizawa isn’t looking at her in disgust, but is comforting her?

What the hell is going on?

Bakugou was so sure that if he was ever to show weakness, his whole life was going to crumble away.

HE was going to shatter and everyone was going to blame him, and stomp on the pieces that remained of him.

So why...With her...It’s different...?

Maybe...

Just maybe...

He, too, was allowed...To feel...Even a little beat...

Weak...?

Katsuki was lost in thought, watching Aizawa pat Y/N’s head one more time, before leaving to his room, as the girl could only stare aimlessly at the ceiling, her eyes red, puffy and dead, like those of a dead fish.

She truly looked like she was a deadman walking right now.

She needed help.

She needed someone.

This was her, the true Y/N, the one who’s hurting so much, the one who forgot to live, and existed, only for the sake of another.

Y/N, this weak, broken girl, that live through sheer spite, rage, hatred, frustration, fire and adrenaline... Had no more reason to live.

Katsuki growled at his classmates, telling them to fuck off, as he gulped and made his way to the girl, staring down at her with stern eyes.

Stern eyes that, as soon as they met her pained ones, softened immediately.

They just stood there, staring at each other for a while, before she finally spoke out.

“What do you want?”

Her voice was so rough, so cold, so dead, so much that it almost seemed like she was barely holding on to reality.

“Let me defend you.” Katsuki deadpanned, not thinking much about what he was saying. “Defend me...? What are you talking about?” she frowned in confusion at his words. “You stood in front of me and protected me so many times before...Look, dumbass, I...I’m not good with words. But...Thanks for everything you’ve done for me so far. I, uh...I guess I...Appreciate it. So let me return the favour. I owe you.” he spoke gentler than any time before, only for the girl to scoff and roll her eyes. “Owe me...? Don’t be stupid. I wasn’t expecting to get out of there alive. I kept constantly throwing myself in deadly situations, hoping to feel something. Guess what. I’m more dead than alive. You can’t defend someone with no purpose in life, Bakugou Katsuki. Give it up and go back to your life and your ambitions. Forget about me. I’m not that stupid and cheerful, happy-go-lucky bimbo I let myself be seen as before.” she explained, turning away, not meeting his eyes. “What the hell, Y/N, first of all, don’t ever call me that again! That pisses me off to no end! Secondly, yeah, I know, I always knew that wasn’t the real you. But so what, big deal! I’ve been analysing your every move since the USJ incident! But let me get back at you for all the times you asked me if I was okay, if I overused my Quirk, if I was taking care of myself, and so on. Let me get back at you for shielding and defending me from everyone who tried to harm me, verbally or physically. Let me help you find yourself a reason to live, but this time, for yourself, not for others.” his yelling gradually softened, to the point where he was barely audible...But he was being genuine. “...You’re very strange, ‘Tsuki. Even now, after all we’ve been through, after seeing my true self, you haven’t shunned me, and you still want to help me out. How cute...Very cute, in fact. But I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m capable of receiving help. What’s broken can’t be repaired, you know?” she muttered, before feeling a tight hug from behind. “What about repairing Quirks? Or that old ritual that glues ceramic objects with gold? Don’t be a dumbass...There are ways, you just need to accept the help you’re given. That’s all. Say yes. That’s all I’m asking you. If you’re taking a step back, and allowing yourself to be weak, then let me defend you. Let me protect you.” he buried his face in her hair, as he felt her body tremble in his embrace. “...Okay, ‘Tsuki. Please...Defend me.” was all she said, as she turned around and hugged the boy just as hard.

But that was the simplest thing they could do, because while yes, someone there to hug you and be there for you was always great, but Y/N was so much in her own world from all the things that have been happening, that she forgot to care about others’ well-being, trying to focus on herself for once...

Which is why she couldn’t see, at least at first, how much of a blow the Camino incident was for Katsuki.

It was tearing him apart, but he had nobody to tell to, because the only person who he wasn’t afraid of being weak in front, needed to be protected, and he couldn’t be weak for her, when he needed him the most.

So he was suffering in silence.

Days after days, nights after nights.

He couldn’t sleep well, his mind was tired, he wasn’t eating properly, he was more aggressive and less sociable...

It became so bad that, one night, he took it outside with Deku and fought head to head with him, only to have Aizawa stop them, grounding and scolding them well enough.

It was then that she finally managed to get herself to look in his eyes...And realise how much he was hurting.

The next night, even more, as she saw him slipping away outside, pushing himself to train harder...And harder...And harder...

It was almost like he was using this excessive and incoherent training as a way to let out all the pent up frustrations he held inside of his heart.

And that was the exact truth.

He was screaming, roaring, blasting away trees and other things around, trying to blow away the anger he had, hoping that it would go away, but it didn’t.

“...’Tsuki...? Hey, ‘Tsuki, calm down for a second. Please. Stop. Just for a bit. Look at me.” she spoke out loud enough to be heard from all the explosions. “ Huh? Y/N? The hell ya doin’ here? Go back to the dorms, I’m busy.” he tried his best not to yell at her, but it was obvious he was holding back with the last ounce of self-control he had left in his body. “No. I know you’re hurting. I’ve known since the beginning. That’s why I kept asking you if you’re okay, so you can’t bullshit me. You feel like you can’t allow yourself to talk to anyone. You feel like the weight of the whole world is on your shoulders. You feel the pressure, the pain, the mistakes, the words, the insults, the criticism, the guilt and blame of everything that happened...But ‘Tsuki, don’t ever blame yourself for the All Might thing. It wasn’t your fault. It was going to happen sooner or later, but now, the Villain Boss is defeated, thanks to All Might. Casualties happened, but this was the best outcome anyway.” she tried to pacify him, but when he turned around to face her, tears were streaming down his face like a waterfall. “STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT, DAMN IT! I DON’T NEED YOUR STUPID PITY! AND WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW?! I LET MYSELF GET KIDNAPPED, ALL MIGHT LOST HIS POWERS BECAUSE OF ME! ALL I DO IS FUCK UP ALL THE TIME! WHY CAN’T I DO ANYTHING FUCKING RIGHT FOR ONCE, DAMN IT?!” he yelled so loud, so rough, so raw, so pained, that the girl could only bite her lip and run to hug him as tight as she could.

He wanted to yell at her, to blame her for all those stupid emotions he was feeling, for the guilt and darkness that kept engulfing him.

He wanted to beat her up for making him worry so much at Camino, being so dumb as to get in front of him, to protect him from all those villains, and more, All For One.

He wanted to give her a piece of his mind for all the stupid things she told while at the League of Villains’ headquarter, as it felt like nothing more than a harsh and cruel dream, and yet, it was reality.

He wanted to shake her by the shoulders for making him feel as if he owes her, for all the times she stood up for him and defended him in front of everyone.

But more importantly...

He wanted to hug her tightly to his chest and just cry away his emotions, as he knew that none of those were her fault, and that he’s just been locking himself and his heart away from the world to see, and that he’s nothing more than a scared boy who wants to hide away from the judging eyes of people.

“Go on, ‘Tsuki. Yell at me, hit me, punch me, slap me, curse me, use your Quirk on me...Do anything, I don’t care, as long as it helps you get rid of those frustrations and thoughts. They are all false. They were induced to you because of other people and circumstances, but none of those are your fault. You’re going to become an amazing hero, Katsuki, and nobody will ever doubt that.” she spoke in a firm tone, hoping to get through his thick, stubborn skull of his. “...Y/N...” a soft sob, calling out her name, came from the boy.

How could she say something like that?

How could she possibly imagine that he would be capable of ever being even remotely aggressive with her, when what he wants is nothing more than to protect her and be there for her?

But she does have a point.

She always seemed to say what everyone wanted to hear.

He wasn’t even sure if she always meant her words, but needless to say, they were always what everyone needed, and he realised that now, after seeing how she behaved with those villains, and before, during normal school days, with their classmates.

“Yes, ‘Tsuki? What is it?” she raised her head, cupping his face, wiping away the tears from his eyes. “I’m...I’m...I’m....W-...We...We-...N-No, fuck it, I can’t say it. I can’t. I...I can’t...” Katsuki cursed himself, shutting his eyes firmly, gritting his teeth in anger. “You can, ‘Tsuki. You know you can. You brave and strong. Allow yourself to feel. You are only human, darling. Humans make mistakes, and they are forgiven for them. Humans are allowed to feel, and nobody is blaming them for having feelings. Humans can be weak, and can be strong, maybe both at the same time, and nobody will hate them for not being one or the other all the time! So...’Tsuki...Be honest with yourself, please. Allow yourself to be human.” her voice was so angelic, and spoke so much truth, that for the first time in his life, Katsuki allowed himself to exist as a human being. “I’M WEAK TOO, YOU KNOW?!” he yelled out, his voice booming through the forest, louder than his explosions.

He...

He said it.

He truly said it.

And he’s still there.

And she’s still there.

She isn’t mocking him, nor is she taunting or running away from him.

She isn’t shaming or blaming him.

Instead, she has a tender and understanding expression on her face...

And she’s smiling, almost as if she’s proud of him, he thinks.

But why would she be proud of a complete stranger that admitted his own weaknesses...?

“I know, sweetheart, I know. You’re so brave for saying it. It takes a lot of strength to admit it, especially out loud, to someone else. I’m so proud of you, ‘Tsuki. I promise you, I’m not going to look at you differently for admitting it, and nor will anybody else. It’s not healthy to keep those emotions inside of you, they are only going to eat you away. You saw it first hand.” the girl caressed his cheeks gently, smiling at him in understanding and pride. “This is so stupid...I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate being weak...It’s strange. Not my thing at all. I’m such a fucking dumbass...But...I guess you’re right...Sorta. I feel better letting that get out of my system.” he muttered, blushing and averting his sight from hers. “...This is probably the worst timing ever, but...Did I ever tell you how adorable you are?” she gave him that dumb, happy-go-lucky grin once again, which made him lose his shit, getting more flustered, not sure if he would have the strength to look at her, or if he should look away and avoid any more embarrassment. “What the hell?! Shut the hell up, you dumbass! Don’t say shit like that that you don’t mean, you stupid extra!” he growled at her, but it sounded more like a pomeranian yapping, with no ill intent, which only made the girl chuckle at him. “I mean it. All of it. You’re adorable. Come on, let’s hang out a bit more. Just walk around the place, relax a bit. What do you say?” she gave him a soft smile, extending her hand towards him. “...Whatever.” he hung his head, biting his lip in embarrassment, hiding his face in with one of his forearms, as with the other hand, he held Y/N’s hand. “Did you know that you smell very sweet? Like caramel sugar. And your hand is so warm...” she praised and complimented him, and he couldn’t help but blush harder, not being used to this kind of cutesy words about him. “Sh-Shut up, don’t be an idiot.” he said those words, and yet, he intertwined his fingers with hers, holding her hand tighter. “Come on, I know you like it. Be honest with yourself.” she giggled, leaning on his arm, as he could finally feel himself relaxing a bit. “Yeah...I...I guess I do like it. And I like you.” he admitted, albeit, barely audible. “And I like you as well, ‘Tsuki.”

Y/N gave him a soft smile - Not one of those happy-go-lucky, stupidly dumb grins - But a soft, small, genuine one.

For the first time in forever, Y/N smiled because she felt happy.

And she felt happy with Katsuki by her side.

Realising that, the boy felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, forming a small smile as well.

Perhaps, they were re-learning together how to be happy...And how to allow themselves to be genuine with themselves.

They were learning to truly appreciate themselves and who they are, after such a long time of struggles, hardships, trauma, insults, guilt and burdens.

At least for tonight, they didn’t have to be Bakugou Katsuki and L/N Y/N.

At least for tonight, they were just Katsuki and Y/N.

And they were happy.

534 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years

Note

this is pretty random and you don't need to answer it, haha, but could you share your personal hcs regarding platonic todobaku with me??? 🥺🥺🥺 i'm in need, LOL, and your takes on characterization and relationships on bnha are always so spot on, so... i hope you're having a good day/night!!!!!!!💖💖💖

thank you so much! sorry it took a while to gather all of these; my TodoBaku headcanons weren’t as immediately forthcoming as my general Baku headcanons were. but here goes. the first half of these ended up being more just my general thoughts about their relationship than actual headcanons, but I eventually steered myself back on track.

first of all, this is important to note: when Katsuki says in ch. 241 that “there’s no correlation between time spent [together] and friendship”, it’s not purely out of denial. this is something he genuinely believes, having learned it the hard way growing up. for someone who seemingly led a pretty charmed life for most of his childhood, Katsuki hasn’t actually had a particularly sunshiny experience when it comes to his friendships. all of his closest childhood friends eventually left him (Tsubasa), turned on him (Deku -- from his perspective lol. obviously this wasn’t actually the case at all, but it’s how he interpreted it, and it definitely had a big impact on him emotionally), or abandoned him (that long-fingered kid, who notably fled and never looked back when the sludge monster tried to eat Katsuki back in chapter one. like, thanks for nothing, my dude).

so it’s not surprising that all of these experiences would have a profound impact on Katsuki’s ability to trust other people and accept them as real, genuine friends. in its own way his childhood was almost as isolating as Deku and Shouto’s. it’s only since coming to U.A. that he’s started to make real friends again for the first time since kindergarten. and even then, in the case of Kirishima and Kaminari and Sero, even though I think he does consider them friends, he still isn’t very open with them. because he’s learned the hard way that that can lead to hurt, and I think he’s very hesitant to ever let himself be vulnerable to that again.

but having said all that, Shouto is still absolutely correct when he says that they’re friends. and the thing is Katsuki knows it too, but he’s just reluctant to admit it. partly because the part of his brain that processes everything as rivalry isn’t sure whether Being Friends With Shouto = Losing To Shouto (IS THIS A TRAP??), and partly because of everything else I just explained above. even though by this point he knows Shouto pretty well, well enough to be reasonably sure he’s not just gonna be another fakeass groupie who turns tail at the first sign of trouble, there’s still a part of him that’s hesitant to admit that connection is there, because doing so opens him up to potentially being hurt again at some point. goddammit. why is this shit so complicated.

meanwhile on Shouto’s side of things, this poor lil bubba never had any friends growing up to begin with, so he’s not nearly as paranoid or prickly as Katsuki is. instead, he’s still discovering for himself just what friendship is all about. the interesting thing about Shouto is that since he never had any childhood friendships, in a way, the friendships that he’s making now at U.A. are his childhood friendships. and so they tend to be straightforward and uncomplicated in much the same way that very young children’s friendships are uncomplicated. “I like this person; I am going to make them my friend.” boom. done. friendship is mad easy yo.

and he does like Katsuki! sure, his personality is a bit unconventional, but there’s a lot to admire about him even so, and they actually have a lot in common! they’re both rather introverted. they’re both very serious, and I think this is something that Shouto particularly appreciates, because jokes and idioms and playful insincerity sometimes fly over his head just because he doesn’t have a lot of experience dealing with other people. but Katsuki NEVER jokes around, and he is never insincere. he says what he means, with the exception of insults, which are 90% more bark than bite. and so once Shouto figured that out, it became very easy to figure out how to interact with him. aside from that, they’re both close with Shouto’s Other Best Friend Midoriya, they both have incendiary quirks, and they both tend towards the quiet side (yes, even Katsuki) with the occasional burst of hotheadedness (maybe a bit more than “occasional” when it comes to Katsuki’s end).

and like I said, there’s a lot that Shouto admires about Katsuki as well. he really respects how determined Katsuki is, because he himself lacked any sort of clear goals for quite a while growing up. all he knew was that he didn’t want to end up being like his dad. but Katsuki is someone who has always known what he wants, and he goes after it with a singlemindedness that Shouto is almost envious of. he’s also very intelligent and quick-thinking, and Shouto knows he can rely on him in a tight spot. he’s also honest, and surprisingly principled, and while he’s definitely not the nicest guy around, I think Shouto can recognize to some degree those same types of walls that he once spent so much time building up around himself. and so he knows that to a certain extent, Katsuki’s hostility is just a front. and I think he’s both intrigued by that, and drawn to it. because every so often when Katsuki’s guard does drop and his better self briefly shines through, Shouto can see that he’s someone worth getting to know.

anyways, but enough of my rambling about their relationship, and on to the actual headcanons. first of all, I firmly believe in my heart of hearts that at some point during all of those mentally and physically taxing weekends spent training for their provisional exam, they have each fallen asleep on the other’s shoulder during the ride home. Katsuki was actually the first to do it, and it was only for a couple of minutes, but when he woke up he was absolutely mortified. but much to his relief, Shouto never said another word about it. (and if Shouto still remembers the warm, cozy feeling in his chest during those few brief minutes when Katsuki was dead to the world, with his face smoothed out and completely trusting and his breathing strangely in rhythm with the movement of the car, and if doing so brings him a sense of calm that’s hard to describe, well then, that’s no one’s business but his own.)

anyway, so because life is Just Like That, eventually of course the reverse happened. and with anyone else, Katsuki would have violently shoved them aside without a second thought, and he was almost gonna do the same here, but then he remembered he owed him (because he really did keep his mouth shut about the earlier incident, thank fuck), and so he didn’t. for almost two whole minutes, anyway. whatever. that’s more than generous, really. meanwhile no one else knows about this except for Aizawa, who was chaperoning them that day, and took mild notice at first on account of it being unusual behavior on Katsuki’s part, but then immediately forgot about it afterwards. he was proud of them both for upping their napping game, though. he respects naps.

both Shouto and Katsuki were actually scared shitless during the test of courage at the forest training camp, and if Katsuki hadn’t been kidnapped and everything had instead gone on as normal, they would have both had trouble getting to sleep that night. Katsuki actually can’t stand scary movies or ghost stories (fyi this is canon according to the third light novel, and EXCUSE HIM FOR HAVING A HEALTHY RESPECT FOR THE SUPERNATURAL. you wanna go and get your own dumb ass cursed or dragged to hell or whatever, BE HIS GUEST). whereas Shouto has next to no experience with them and doesn’t really see what’s so scary about ghosts because GHOSTS AREN’T REAL DUH, but even he feels a little unsettled when an undead swamp girl suddenly rises from the depths and crabwalks towards them in the middle of the woods.

Katsuki has on rare occasions been so drained by provisional lessons that he goes into autopilot and forgets to pretend not to be friends with Shouto, which can result in them having completely normal conversations for minutes at a time before he eventually regains enough of his senses to realize he’s fraternizing with the enemy. this is how Shouto learned about things like Katsuki’s favorite foods, and his love of hiking. the latter is actually one subject that Katsuki can go on and on about if you get him started, and Shouto very much enjoys hearing about it and never tries to stop him.

by contrast, Katsuki never intentionally seeks to gain any new knowledge about Shouto because he feels like he already knows way more than he ever wanted to. however, this doesn’t stop him from absorbing knowledge against his will by simple osmosis, and then discovering to his dismay that he’s retained the information afterward. this is why he also knows Shouto’s favorite food in return (although to be fair, I think everyone in Japan knows Shouto’s favorite food), as well as other tidbits like the fact that he likes strawberry-flavored things (because he always gets the same brand of strawberry milk from the vending machine during their lunch breaks). he hates himself a little for both noticing and remembering these stupid little details, and would rather be kidnapped again than ever admit to Shouto that he does.

Katsuki thinks of Shouto as “Todoroki” in his head rather than “IcyHot” or “Half n’ Half”, and has to make a conscious effort to use the nicknames whenever he addresses him out loud. more and more often he finds himself forgetting to do so nowadays, much to his dismay. Shouto was pleasantly surprised the first few times it happened, but quickly stopped taking notice of it, as he’s come to realize that the way Katsuki addresses people carries very little meaning regardless, since something like 75% of his actual feelings are conveyed through his actions rather than his words.

Katsuki does wish that Shouto had had the decency to choose his surname as his hero alias rather than his given name, though. he lives in fear that one of these days he’ll be required to call him “Shouto” while on duty. number one hero or not, there’s a good chance he would resign from his internship at the Endeavor Hero Agency before he ever willingly agreed to that.

and last but not least, the number one thing that Katsuki would rather jump in a freezing lake than admit to Shouto or even himself is that he actually cares about him too. and has even mostly forgiven him for wussing out at the last minute during the sports festival. he still doesn’t fully understand why he did it, but he gets that Shouto was Going Through Some Stuff, and okay yeah, he can admit that his family situation is pretty fucked up, so whatever. there’s an uncomfortable feeling he gets whenever he’s reminded of this; sort of a weird, squirmy feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever the subject of Endeavor comes up, or whenever he sees Shouto talking to the man himself. it makes him feel restless and on edge, and he never knows what to say or do afterwards, especially if Shouto goes all quiet and sullen and reflective. he wants to scream at him, or slap him on the back of the head, or grab him by the shoulders and shake him; whatever it takes to snap him out of it and ease the tension. but he knows that’s not the right way to handle it. and more to the point, he knows that he’s not the right person to handle it. and sometimes, if he’s not quick enough to squash the feeling when he senses it coming, he wonders how Shouto would react if he ever found out what Katsuki used to be like back in elementary and middle school. and he wonders whether Shouto would still be so dead-set insistent on calling them friends. and then he does squash out the thought, as viciously as he possibly can.

anyway so that turned weirdly angsty towards the end whoops. not even sure what happened there, since this is supposed to be my cute and funny ship, while BakuDeku greedily hogs all the angst for itself! lol my bad. but don’t worry, they still love each other, and Shouto is still fond and soft and equipped with bullshit-radar, and Katsuki is still rabid and in denial and a dumbass.

#bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #todobaku #bnha headcanons #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks

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themoomoorn · 3 years

Text

Random Thot #46,853

I had a health exam for my upcoming new job and put my two weeks in for my current one, so I’m rewarding my neurodivergent ass-brain with this. Sit tight and enjoy.

46,853: I’m half-convinced that Edelgard is like the Soul Series’ Alexandra sisters and daughter when it comes to her combat ability - or rather, lack thereof. Unlike Claude, Dimitri, and Byleth, who all explicitly received combat training as children, Edelgard likely did not. The tools given to her are what likely allow for her to fight at all - heck, they may even do a bit of the fighting for her. How else can a noodle-armed womanlet like her wear all that armor and heft that axe?

(Also, how the eff does this dress make clanking armor sounds when she walks in the game despite this dress having like no armor whatsoever)

To begin with, we have in-game factoids of her stat caps being the second highest in the game (390 when combined, with Cyril only beating her by 5 points due to his Aptitude skill), and she even has a magic cap that’s not only on-par with other magically-inclined units (72), but it’s actually better than some of them (Dorothea and Linhardt, who are both dedicated mage types, have caps of 61 and 66, respectively, while Manuela, who tends to get placed in Faith Magic-aligned classes despite being a hybrid unit, has a piddling cap 48). She even has a quirky but feasible spell list for both magic types (Fire/Bolganone/Luna Lambda/Hades Omega for Reason, and Heal/Nosferatu/Recover/Seraphim for Faith, which is one of her banes, mind you). I imagine this is the work of the experiments that gave her her version of the Crest of Flames - after all, the 2020 DREAM interview noted that the Hresvelg children were given a more “refined” version of the experiments the Ordelias had. The refinement isn’t just reflected in-game with caps and magic too; Edelgard is also more robust in terms of health, whereas Lysithea is prone to bouts of weakness and illness. In-game, she has poor Luck and Strength, and the single lowest HP cap of all the playable units at 48. And while this one is admittedly conjecture, Edelgard doesn’t hint that her lifespan was drastically cut, as she gets to live a long life in all of her endings. Even in her Crest-heavy ending with Hanneman or her healthcare-related ending with Manuela don’t mention that she had one or both of her Crests taken out. Lysithea, on the other hand, is extensively motivated by the fact that she doesn’t have many years left, and it’s only in two endings (Lorenz, Balthus) where she’s able to live fairly long without removing her Crests; The rest either have her dying young or being able to live long only after her Crests are taken out.

Now what of her combat abilities? Let’s turn to the source of where this silly thot came from.

For the uninitiated, Sophitia Alexandra, a fighter who’s been in the Soul Franchise since its very first game, did not grow up as a dedicated combatant like the other fighters - she was an ordinary baker living in Athens during the late 16th Century when Greece was part of the Ottoman Empire. When she was bathing in a lake one day, she received a message from Hephaestus himself in that she has a divine destiny to destroy the cursed blade Soul Edge, and he gifts her with a divinely crafted short sword and shield in order to fulfill her mission. While she does gain training in Athenian combat styles, a lot of her power and capabilities are tied to her weapon set, which are named the Omega Sword and Elk Shield. Her younger sister Cassandra would follow suit in SoulCalibur II, actually going out of her way to steal the same holy armaments Sophitia used in Soul Edge and SoulCalibur I before getting her own specially empowered set.

(Sophitia Alexandra)

And Pyrrha, Sophitia’s daughter in SoulCalibur V, takes it to new heights. Per a data book, the timid, mistreated Pyrrha has absolutely no combat experience, not even in self-defense. While Sophitia and Cassandra were able to train themselves into formidable soldiers outside of their divine weapons’ influences, this is not true for Pyrrha. If it were not for the sword and shield Pyrrha wielded (which is the same exact set Sophitia wielded before her passing), her clumsy attacks and timid guard stances would amount to ineffectual, useless flailing.

(Info about Pyrrha’s fighting style from the SCV data book)

Back to the Egg. Now it’s made abundantly clear that while Dimitri’s Jean Valjean-levels of raw strength heavily stem from his Crest, he’s also from the land where, in lieu of milk and honey, there’s extreme sports jock training in heavy armor in the dead of night with boulders for weights and weapon mastery. Dimitri loves to train, and it’s a big aspect of his character. The tritagonist of his route is also one of his combat trainers, and he’s done that job for three generations’ worth of Faerghus royalty, with his ending hinting that he keeps doing it for one more. I imagine that even without the Crest of Blaiddyd, Dimitri would still be extremely strong and formidable, he’d just have to actually exert himself a little when saving some poor soul from a runaway cart.

(Just in case the savior imagery wasn’t clear enough with Dimitri, he even did lift a cart the way eventual saint Jean Valjean did in the book/musical)

Claude is far more in favor of covert combat, and his own Crest is more defensive than offensive, but he’s no slouch either, having had a renowned war general serve as his combat instructor since childhood. He’s from a kingdom that, much like Faerghus, values the way of the warrior and prides itself on the strength of its people. His hidden talent, tying to wyvern mastery, is in friggin axes, and he’s also shown to be adept enough with a sword at various points. Plus there’s the fact that he was abused and mistreated by his Almyran family, complete with his father plopping him on a horse and making the horse ride off with him backwards with no safety net as a form of punishment - Claude tells Hilda that there was a “trick” in how he survived that. As any horse jockey can attest to, you need raw muscle in every part of your body in order to really ride one, and I imagine that’s doubly true for your local albino wyvern that’s decked out in Ottoman visual puns. Plus learning how to be crafty and protecting oneself more covertly undoubtedly contributed to his combat abilities too.

(I mean you’d have to be shredded if you can pull off the Parthian shot on a fucking flying dragon. 61 Strength cap my ass.)

Byleth, as we know, grew up as a mercenary to the point of detriment. There’s no need to go into extensive detail as to how Jeralt sacrificed almost everything else in exchange for contributing to Byleth’s combat abilities without being abusive and cruel, but even if you took away Byleth’s self-insert aspects, they’d likely bear a passing resemblance to Rei Ayanami in terms of behavior and attitude - An intended vessel/Avatar for a divine being from one end; Conditioned for little more than combat from another end. Kind of a gloomy picture before she starts to express herself better and actually bond with other people meaningfully.

(At least she’s cute as a button. Kinda like Rei.)

But where does that leave Edelgard? It’s a big question mark. There’s no mention of her growing up with any kind of combat training, unlike the other three. Heck, if tea time, Crimson Flower, and Heroes quotes are anything to go by, Edelgard grew up living a carefree lifestyle prior to the Insurrection. She got to stuff her face with sweets and play with teddy bears and both dote and be doted on by her siblings. Being child number 9 in her current generation, combat training and political studies likely weren’t major priorities for her, and since it’s speculated that Ionius favored her mother, she was likely lavished and spoiled by him. After all, he expresses grief for her specifically when she inherits the throne from him, not the rest of her siblings.

(Even the official merchandise notes how childish Edelgard is)

(This is all after she literally kickstarts her war, by the way).

While there’s varying degrees of elaborate flair that the Lords all wield their weapons with, Edelgard’s regular strikes with an axe feel far less rigid and more informal, and she’ll spin around her axe like it’s some kind of prop. Her default battle stance isn’t even remotely protective and quite impractical; Dimitri’s stance with a lance is both of these things, while Claude’s arrow-twirling is a real-life exercise that’s done to keep the wrist flexible. While she does refine her axe skills come Part II, she’ll still do things like throw her massive shield ten feet in the air for a critical hit.

(Seriously what even is this why is your hand out like that)

There’s even some proof of this: In her study request for axes and heavy armor, Edelgard will even acknowledge that the only reason she can likely keep up and wear heavy armor at all is because of her Crests. And unlike Dimitri and Claude, who can get lesson plans for their respective Hidden Talents once they’re mastered (Horse riding for Dimitri, axes for Claude), Edelgard doesn’t get a lesson plan for Reason Magic, which is her Hidden Talent, so she likely didn’t get any kind of formal education surrounding magic either.

(She has a similar quote in Heroes that’s even more explicit about this.)

The closest hint we get in Edelgard maybe having a hint of training as a child is in her Supports with Ferdinand, and even then, there’s no clear cut hint noting that his failures in beating her were combat-based. She’s able to one-hit KO him in their B Support, but it’s locked to Part II and at this point she’s been both riding on the power highs of her Crests along with actually taking combat seriously. She even says that their difference in skill level isn’t that great.

(Should’ve used Swift Strikes, Ferdie)

What’s more, in addition to all of those enhancements, she not only spends a lot of Part I in a custom set of armor that only archaic technology from the Agarthans can make, but they also made her a custom Relic that’s tailor-made to her specifications. The other Relics as well as the Sacred Weapons, being over a thousand years old, still require their wielders to train in order to wield them properly, and in the case of the Relics, their potential cannot be fully tapped into unless the wielder’s Crest matches the Relic they’re wielding. There’s also that particular safety issue, per what happens with Sylvain’s brother Miklan. But this is not the case with Aymr, which is brand new, has a mismatched Crest that doesn’t negatively affect Edelgard, and requires the Agarthan tech-compatible Agarthium to fix, not the Umbral Steel that’s used to fix both the Heroes’ Relics and other Crest Stone weapons like the Vajra-Mushti. The Aymr’s specific Combat Art even emulates the oft-broken Galeforce skill from Awakening and Fates. It feels like that Aymr in particular is the Edelgard what Hephaestus’ swords and shields are to the Alexandra family.

Now I don’t really think that an Edelgard who’d be stripped of her Crest of Flames, the Amyr, or her special Flame Emperor armor, would be as hapless as Pyrrha would be without her mother’s sword and shield. I imagine she likely started to do some kind of formal combat training once the experiments were done with, not just to kickstart her dreams of imperial conquest, but also to protect herself anyway after everything that happened; She’s also the only Hresvelg heiress of her generation left. There’s also her natural Minor Crest of Seiros to consider. But if you stripped all that away from her, then her ability to fight probably would come off as useless flailing to the other three more experienced combatants.

All those cakes and that lack of muscle would at least catch up to her, anyway.

#fe3h #fe3h meta #fire emblem three houses #edelgard von hresvelg #edelgard critical #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #byleth eisner #headcanons #ramblings #soulcalibur #this literally popped into my head one day #seriously #edelgard isnt buff you cant change my mind

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quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH122

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 122: The Dream of the Holy Nun (XII)

"We still need to think about this task," Su He said as he took a sip of bright-colored wine. "There’s still two days left before the night of the new moon. Although this task might not be completed on a night of the new moon, the key point should be in this night. We must find a breakthrough on this night, otherwise we’ll have to delay here for at least a month. You don't want to face several consecutive 'monthly exams' as soon as you finish this task."

Dr. Lu looked at the food: "No, absolutely not!"

"First of all, the task requirement is to end the Dream of the Holy Nun, but there’s no reward. The tasks in the main world are often like this. They won’t inform you of the reward in advance like a copy task will. Sometimes the completion method is very vague and you need to explore it yourself," Su He said.

Qi Leren nodded his head. The same was true when he did the Witchcraft Sacrifice. He wasn't told the rewards in advance, and he didn't receive a reminder when he hit each one. However, the objectives of the Witchcraft Sacrifice had been much clearer than this task, probably because it had been a main world cycle task which was carried out every three years, so the rules are clear.

"To end the Dream of the Holy Nun means to break this field. In theory, the owner of the field dies and the field should end, but here it has not... The fields created with the Holy See’s faith are different from ordinary fields. I don't know this much about this. I need Mr. Ning Zhou to solve our doubts," Su He said lightly.

"...The formation of the Holy See's fields require an item, and the power of faith condenses on that memento to form a half-field." Ning Zhou's cold voice explained the secret of the Vatican. Qi Leren looked at him carefully. Is the memento pendant still hanging around Ning Zhou's neck? He couldn't see because of his clothes, but he thought Ning Zhou should be wearing it.

"The memento for this field is the brooch," Ning Zhou said.

Qi Leren took out Maria's brooch and presented it in his hand. The small and delicate brooch was slightly warm, as if it was alive. It was with it that they had been able to walk into this dead closed field as if they had the key, but if they used it too much, it would collapse.

"After forming, the half-field grows gradually. The process may be fast or slow, depending on the affinity’s strength. It can be condensed into a field in a moment. After the formation of the field, it will condense into another memento, representing... Destruction."

Su He raised his eyebrows with interest: "Do you need this memento to end the field?"

Ning Zhou nodded: "This field is dead and it will not evolve any more, nor can it be controlled by the field master. It’s already a small independent world. To end it, you need to destroy it with a memento of Destruction."

Two mementos of faith, one for life, the other for death, beginning and end... Was this the secret of the Vatican? Unfortunately, Ning Zhou's half-field has just begun, and it has already been destroyed. Qi Leren couldn't help but be somewhat disappointed.

"It seems that we need to find the memento of Destruction," Su He said and looked at the former site of the Holy See shrouded by the power of the Devil. "Well... I feel like it should be there."

"It really is there," Ning Zhou said.

"Huh?" "Hey?" Dr. Lu and Qi Leren looked at him in surprise. "How do you know?"

Ning Zhou looked at the broken building on the top of the mountain in the distance and said in a very low voice: "...She told me that used the sword there to kill the Devil."

"...You knew the Holy Nun?!” Dr. Lu asked, gawking.

"She was my mother, Maria," Ning Zhou said.

"A player?" Dr. Lu asked nervously.

Ning Zhou shook his head. He wouldn't use the word NPC to refer to people from this world. In his eyes, these people who called themselves "players" were outsiders.

Dr. Lu looked at Qi Leren with a face of curious sympathy.

The atmosphere had become very tense. Dr. Lu's mouth opened and closed, closed and opened, like a fish stranded on the beach. Su He seemed to have anticipated it, and said easily, "This kind of situation is quite common here… Let’s go on with the mission. Now it seems that to end the Dream of the Holy Nun, we need to get the sword that Lady Maria used to kill the Devil, but to get the sword, we must first open the enchantment of the Devil around the Vatican. According to the existing clues, the disaster of the new moon is very likely to be related to the Devil. We need to crack the disaster of the new moon first... One leading into another, a typical task chain. "

The problem was back to the disaster of the new moon. Now, the clues about the disaster of the new moon were still incomplete, and they could only boldly guess that it had something to do with demons - according to Qi Leren's understanding of the Nightmare Game.

"Well, I'll stay awake on the night of the new moon in two days. With the [Demon Etiquette] skill card I got in the Castle task, if there is a demon at that time, I can make it think I’m an ally and maybe I can get some unexpected clues," Qi Leren said, though he was actually a little scared. After all, in the Nightmare Game he had died to the demons’ attacks on the night of the new moon.

"I remember that that skill needs a demon crystal," Su He recalled very clearly.

"This... I have one." Qi Leren took out a piece of a demon crystal. After the Slaughter Secret Society undercover mission, the remaining demon crystals hadn’t been confiscated, and the Court generously left them to him.

Su He picked up the demon crystal and observed it. He suddenly laughed. His smile was as warm as spring water in the warm sunshine: "This is a succubus crystal."

Qi Leren who was seen through at a glance: "..."

Su He returned the demon crystal and paused when he retracted his hand: "Look down."

Qi Leren bowed his head without knowing why. Su He parted his hair with one hand, and picked out a blue and white petal from his hair with the other hand, which must have gotten stuck when he was sleeping in the tree stump. The petal was pinched between Su He's slender fingers, delicate and soft, and looked broken when touched.

"This flower is really beautiful," Su He laughed, looking into Qi Leren’s eyes.

"Ah... Well, it's pretty good," Qi Leren just said.

Ning Zhou's eagle had played around enough and finally flew back on its wings. It righteously stood on the handle of the basket, cocked its head and looked at the group. When it saw the petal in Su He's hand, it suddenly flapped its wings and squawked twice. It pecked away the petal, took it, and flew to Ning Zhou's shoulder where it threw it into his hair.

Qi Leren looked at the petal in Ning Zhou's hair and his expressionless handsome face that was obviously confused. He couldn't help laughing and, infected by his laughter, Dr. Lu also laughed. Finally, Su He looked at them laughingly, and his beautiful eyes were gentle.

In this warm afternoon sunshine, joy and happiness infected everyone. For a short time, they could forget the pressure of the nightmare and spend their time happily under the flowers and sunlight. Unfortunately, relaxed and happy times are always short. After lunch and rest, the four people continued to search for clues about the night of the new moon and did not return to the Lord's castle until nightfall.

After dinner the group of people returned to the library, looking for clues suspected to be related to the night of the new moon. Some of the witnesses' notes had already been read, and the contents were similar. No one could write down what they had met, because they had disappeared forever before they put pen to paper…

While everyone was searching hard, Su He, who was sitting at the table, suddenly asked a creepy question thoughtfully: "Have you noticed? Today, we walked all day in the Holy City and we didn't meet any young people under the age of twenty. None of them."

Su He adjusted his sitting posture, supported the side of his face with the back of his hand, and asked, "So what does the little girl we saw suggest?"

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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breakyeol · 4 years

Text

daddy doesn’t approve

one shot

┗ pairing: chanyeol x reader

word count: 4k

warnings: strong language, smut, fingering, mentions of violence, mentions of depression

You had your night all planned out. You’d finish up your homework and study for the upcoming chemistry exam, take a nice, relaxing shower, then lay in bed and listen to Khalid until you passed out. It was perfect— well, up until you looked up from your chem notebook and damn near had a heart attack upon seeing a human shaped silhouette climbing through your window. Luckily, you managed to recognize the mop of unruly dark grey hair and large, mischievous brown eyes peering up at you before you screamed.

“Chanyeol,” you gasped, palm slamming roughly against your chest, feeling your heart pounding violently within in, “you scared to shit out of me, you asshole!”

Your boyfriend only grinned in that familiar boyish way as he hopped fully through your bedroom window, feel landing on your floor with a soft thud. “Baby,” he purred in that low thunder voice of his, that beautiful voice that never failed to have goosebumps rising across your arms at the sound of it, “I missed you.”

“Missing me isn’t an excuse to break into my room.” The sternness in your voice wavered, unable to keep the light smile that upturned your lips at bay.

“I’d hardly consider this ‘breaking in’,” he chuckled lightly as he smoothly maneuvered his way to your bed. You were about to roll your eyes, when something on his face caught your attention.

“Are you bleeding?”

You didn’t have to ask. There was no mistaking the red substance coating the corner of his bottom lip, nor the fresh scrape going across his left cheek bone. His fingers raised to brush over the scrape on his cheek before he was quickly trying to wave it off with a light smile, “Ah, it’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” In spite of his reassurances, you were quick to jump to your feet, hands raising to gently cup his cheeks as you carefully inspected the damage.

“Chanyeol.” Your voice was thick with concern as your thumb caressed just below his wounded lip, brows furrowing in distress. His large warm hands quickly found your wrists, and he hummed contently as he nuzzled his face into one of your palms.

“You always make me feel so loved.”

You absolutely adored your boyfriend’s playful personality, really you did, the constant light hearted banter and teasing comments always brightened your day. However, there were times when you really wished he’d take things a little more seriously. Like now, while he was standing in front of you looking like someone beat the hell out of him, and you desperately needed an explanation to calm your aching heart. No matter how many times you saw him like this, it still hurt like the very first each and every time.

“Chanyeol, who did this to—” he cut you off as he leaned down and slotted his lips into yours. Naturally, you leaned into him, for the briefest of moments forgetting the current situation as you savored the soft warmth of his mouth against yours. But that short lived state of bliss came to an abrupt end when the taste of something metallic hit your tongue. The trance was broken, and you gently pushed him away.

“Baby,” he whined, jutting out his bottom lip in protest. You dodged him when he tried to lean down for another kiss, giving him a pointed look that told him this was no-nonsense-time.

“What happened?” You questioned softly, though your tone of voice left no room for him to beat around the bush like he usually would and was obviously trying to do now.

He sighed, dropping your hands and stepping around you so he could take a seat on the edge of your bed. You turned, nudging his legs apart so that you could stand between them. He almost immediately melted as one of your hands began to soothingly comb through the hair on the back of your head. As soon as his eyes fluttered shut, head falling forward to rest against your stomach, you asked once again, “What happened?”

His back rose and fell with a heavy breath, defeated. “I mouthed off to the wrong guys, that’s all.” You knew that wasn’t all.

Chanyeol has a tendency to get into trouble. He wasn’t a “bad boy” or delinquent but any means, he just didn’t know when to shut that big mouth of his. And he wasn’t the kind of guy a father would approve of his daughter seeing.

Yours was no such exception.

Chanyeol was prideful and loud and a little arrogant and despite how easy it was for him to make friends, it was also easy for him to make enemies. He took risks when risks weren’t necessary, he pushed the limits of the wrong people, and just didn’t know when enough was enough. And him landed him in nasty, dangerous situations. So you couldn’t help but to find yourself constantly worrying about him.

A deep frown imbedded itself across your face. “Chanyeol.”

He grimaced at the sound of the disapproval and concern lacing his name. “I know, I know, I know—” he leaned back with a deep sigh, grabbing your hands within his own and smoothly interlacing your fingers, “I need to be more careful.”

“Especially around guys that could easily take you on. You might be six foot, but that doesn’t mean your clumsy ass can’t be taken down. Remember that time I beat you in a wrestling ma—” you cut yourself off with a yelp of surprise as he suddenly grabbed your waist and swung you onto the bed, quickly climbing on top of you and pinning your hands above your head. He smirked down at you playfully.

“That was only because I let you win.”

You scoffed, eyes rolling, “yeah right. Is that why you almost started crying when I twisted your arm behind your back—”

This time, you were silenced by a pair of warm, soft lips.

“You talk too much,” he chuckled deeply.

Ha! That was rich coming from Park Chanyeol of all people. And you probably would have laughed in his face had he not started kissing the life out of you.

You moaned softly, the sound coming out half lustful and half surprised as he kissed you fiercely, not wasting a moment before his tongue was lashing out and eagerly pushing into your mouth. Somehow, you managed to wriggle your wrists out of his hold, hands quickly lifting to comb through his thick hair and grip at the back of his neck.

Shit… you always managed to forget just how soft his lips were. Every kiss had you feeling dizzy, like you were getting some sort of high. It was ridiculous the kind of effect that he had on you. Half the time, he didn’t even have to try. All he had to do was look at you to have that giddy, love struck feeling sparking to life inside of you. You hated how susceptible you were to him— to his voice, to his touch, to his presence. It was maddening. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the thrill of being with him. Thrilling, because it was a secret. Kind of. Well, it was a secret from your parents, at the very least.

In the beginning, you’d tried to introduce Chanyeol to them, before things got serious between the two of you. But it hadn’t gone well. Your dad had taken one look at Chanyeol’s (then) blood red hair, piercings, tattoos, and ‘total fucking darkness’ jacket, and had immediately blacklisted him. He was banned from ever stepping foot inside of your home. Indefinitely. And your dad did not want you seeing that ‘hoodlum’ ever again.

But, how could you possibly resist those big, sweet eyes and that charming, boyish grin?

So, you easily took to keeping your relationship a secret from your disapproving parents and continued seeing him behind their backs. It wasn’t difficult. Especially considering how easy it was to claim to be going to one of your friend’s houses while, in actuality, you were hanging out with Chanyeol.

The only real risks you ever took of them finding out was when Chanyeol snuck into your room, like right now. And you really tried to keep that to a minimum. Though, it was hard telling Chanyeol what he was and wasn’t allowed to do. If he wanted to come over, there was very little you could say to successfully dissuade him. And then there were the times he showed up completely unannounced, like tonight. But, you couldn’t say you didn’t find it exciting.

He groaned as you tugged at his hair, biting down gently on your lower lip and tugging. It was about then that you felt his fingers beginning to toy with the hem of you sweatpants. You gasped, hand shooting down to grab his wrist and keep his touch from wandering any further. “What? What’s wrong?” He asked, brows furrowing in confusion and concern, worrying he might have upset you in some way.

“We can’t,” you shook your head, licking your lips and ignoring the lingering taste of mint.

“Do you not want to?”

“That’s not it,” you admitted, nervously glancing at your closed door before looking back up at him. “My dad’s downstairs. He might hear.”

At the mention of your father, Chanyeol paused… and then he smirked. He leaned down, and you shuddered as you felt his lips caressing the shell of you ear. “Then I guess we’ll just have to be really quiet.”

“You’re crazy,” you hissed, swatting his hand away as he attempted to tug at your pants.

He didn’t miss a beat before responding with a goofy smile, “crazy for you.”

Deciding to ignore him, you continued, “if he catches us, you’re dead and I’m grounded for the rest of my natural life.”

“Baby,” he whined, pouting at you as he curled his hand around your waist, “We haven’t gotten to be with each other in so long.”

“I literally came over two days ago, don’t be dramatic.”

“I miss you,” he continued seamlessly, disregarding your interruption, nudging his nose against yours, “I miss your kisses,” he pressed a short, but purposeful kiss to your lips, “I miss your voice. I miss your touch,” he shifted his hips forward, and your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt something hard roll against your leg. Fuck.

You were getting worked up. How could you not be? Having him this close, breathing out such sensual words in that deep, rich voice, anybody would be losing their mind. He knew just what to say to have you squirming. Desire was beginning to spread like wildfire inside of you, making you feel like you were burning from the inside out. It was overwhelming. You knew that he knew the effect he was having on you, from the dangerous little smirk staining his swollen pink lips to the mischievous glint in his dark chocolate eyes.

This time when he reached down to slide his hand beneath the hem of your pants, you didn’t push him away. “I miss your moans,” he murmured, and you felt a shock shoot through your body as his fingers caressed over you clothed heat, “I miss the way you feel around me,” he tapped your clit, drawing a breathless gasp from your lips.

“Chanyeol,” you breathed softly, fisting at the front of his sweatshirt.

He groaned in response, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, “I miss the way you say my name. It sounds so hot when you say it.” Electricity shot through your veins as he suddenly nudged your underwear aside, easily slipping his fingers through your wet lips. He moaned quietly, dark eyes peering down at where his hand disappeared inside of your sweats, “fuck. I miss how wet you get for me.”

Your head rolled back, eyes fluttering shut as your lips parted in a silent gasp, just basking in the blissful pleasure as his thumb tentatively circled your clit. His head dipped down, and you hummed contently as you felt him beginning to pepper sweet, slow kiss to your jaw and throat. “Baby…” you uttered breathlessly, repeating his words from earlier, “you always make me feel so loved.”

“Mmm, I haven’t even gotten started yet.” He punctuated the statement by slipping his slender middle finger inside of you. Your back arched at the sudden penetration, but your body quickly adjusted to the familiar stretch, pleasure quickly blossoming in place of any short lived discomfort.

“Chan,” you moaned, keeping your voice low and controlled.

“Baby,” he drawled in reply, smirking lazily as he watched your face twist in delight. God, he loved the expressions you made. More so, he loved knowing he was the only man that could make you make them.

He knew he was being selfish. Selfish in wanting to keep you to himself, despite knowing you could easily be in a relationship with a man that your parents approved of. A relationship where you didn’t have to sneak around and lie. A relationship that you could feel completely comfortable in no matter where you were, and never feel on edge or nervous about getting caught. And yet… however greedy it made him seem, he couldn’t, not even for a moment, imagine himself without you.

There used to be a really dark place inside of him. A dark, heavy abyss that existed in his chest and weighed him down. He went a long time trying his best to ignore it, ignore the way it grew and expanded with every passing day, ignore the way it drew his energy and passion out of his heart and mind, ignore the dark thoughts it fed him. Most people ran from it when they discovered its existence. They separated themselves from him gradually, and then all at once. They all expected him to be the same as mask he showed to the world; funny, upbeat, positive Chanyeol. When he didn’t meet that expectation, they turned their backs on him. And so, for a long time, he was alone.

Until he met you.

He tried his best to hide the dark place from you as long as possible. But it didn’t take too long for you to finally catch a glimpse of it. He expected you to run, just like everybody else. He’d prepared himself for it.

But then, you didn’t.

You stared right into that dark place in his heart, without fear or apprehension, and accepted it. You’d accepted it as a part of himself he’d struggle with for a long time, and you were determined to help him. However long and bloody the battle, you’d be there for him, every step of the way.

And once you’d done that… it was game over for him. He became closer to you than he’d ever been to anybody else in his entire life. Before he even realized what was happening, that dark place in his chest began to shrink. The emptiness was slowly becoming full. Full of you. Of your laugh, of your smile, of your love. Until it was all but gone.

There was no way in hell he could ever give you up. Not for any one. Not after everything. Not after falling in love with you.

“Does it feel good?” He questioned softly, pumping his finger slowly in and out of you, taking great care to keep his pace steady and rhythmic, just for the hell of drawing things out.

“Do you even need to ask?” You retorted, though your voice came out less sarcastic and more breathless than you’d intended. He chuckled, letting his nose drag over your cheek.

“Of course… I have to make sure my baby is enjoying herself,” he cooed playfully, nipping at the corner of your jaw.

You scoffed, “‘baby’ my a— ohh.” Any smart ass response you’d been about to spit out died on the tip of your tongue as he slipped a second finger inside. Your hands leapt up to grip tightly at the thick material of his sweatshirt, the muscles of your thighs quivering as his digits pushed in deeply. It took more will power than you’d expected to suppress the volume of your moans, fiercely resisting the urge to cry out his name for the whole damn world to hear. Through clenched teeth you gritted in a strained, hoarse, yet lustful voice, “give me some kind of warning before you do that.”

He snickered, “sorry.” He definitely was not.

Any frustration directed at him was quick to dissipate as his motions suddenly began to speed up, the previous slow, calculated thrusting of his fingers growing faster and more purposeful. And with every thrust, he hit that perfect little spot that had every nerve ending in your body erupting in sparks of ecstasy. It sent your mind into a frenzy.

“F–fuck, Channie,” you choked, brows curling and face reddening with the raw effort of keeping your voice at bay.

“You gonna come?” He asked. You could tell he was feeling something, as the words escaped him in quiet, breathy huffs. He also wasn’t very subtle about grinding against your leg, hips working on their own accord as he watched you climb closer and closer to your peak.

You nodded faintly as you felt something tug in the pit of your stomach. Your own hips began rolling in time with his fingers, meeting them halfway with every thrust. “Y–yeah, Channie, I’m gonna— I’m gonna—” all at once your breathing began rapid, voice jumping up in pitch as your eyes rolled.

If there was one thing that Chanyeol knew, it was that you were physically incapable of keeping quiet when you reached your point of release. He could tell from your expression alone that you were seconds away from coming. He was quick to drop his head and connect your lips in a deep, stifling kiss. Just in time, it seems, as the moment your lips touched, he felt the vibration of your unrestrained moans resonating through his mouth. Your back arched deeply, hips desperately rutting up against his palm, muscles tensing and trembling uncontrollably.

He helped you through your high, fingers not stopping until your body went slack on the mattress beside him. He carefully drew his slick fingers from your heat, apologizing softly and sweetly kissing your forehead when you winced from oversensitivity. Your eyelids parted just in time to witness him slip his fingers into his mouth, giving a satisfied hum as the taste hit his tongue.

Ignoring the faint twinge in your exhausted core, you wrinkled your nose at him, “gross.”

“It’s pretty good actually, would you like a taste?” He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was pulling you into another kiss, though far more playful than the last. You couldn’t help but laugh against his lips, batting at his arms lightly.

And then there was a knock at the door.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes snapped wide open, immediately meeting Chanyeol’s equally as shocked gaze. Any traces of amusement were gone from your faces as your father’s muffled voice called through your door.

“Hide. Hide. Fuck, hide.” You jumped into action, frantically shoving at Chanyeol’s shoulders until he fell off your bed, hitting the floor with a low thud. “Fuck!”

“Y/n? What was that? I’m coming in.”

You forced your expression to become as calm as possible as your bedroom door swung open, revealing your suspicious looking father.

“Dad,” you smiled easily, “what’s up?”

“Where you talking to someone?” He immediately questioned, eyes narrowing as he did a quick scan of your seemingly empty bedroom.

Your brows furrowed in fake confusion, “no? Who would I be talking to?”

Nervousness prickled at your mind as he suddenly stepped inside, scrutinizing gaze dancing from wall to wall, sliding over and under very last piece of furniture in your room until they finally settled back on you. “I thought I heard… a man’s voice.” You bit at the inside of your cheek as your palms suddenly felt clammy, subtly wiping them on your sheets.

You raised a brow, chuckling lightly, “I’m pretty sure you would have noticed if a man came into the house, dad.”

“I suppose…” He began to voice shallow, wavering agreement, but then he paused, eyes falling on your open window. You felt your stomach lurch, heart jumping into your throat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You suddenly noticed your chemistry notebook sitting at the edge of your bed, previously discarded, and quickly pulled it into your lap.

“I was—” your voice came out louder than you intended and you quickly cleared your throat, drumming your fingers across the marked up pages, “in the middle of studying… I have a test coming up, so…” you vaguely insinuated that he needed to leave, head subtly nodding in the direction of your door.

Your dad’s suspicious eyes remained locked on your window for a few more painful seconds, before he finally relented. “Alright. Study well,” he gave you a short nod before making his way towards the door, only pausing again to throw out a light “love you” over his shoulder.

“Love you, too,” you called back as naturally as possible, not daring to let yourself relax until the door clicked shut behind him, “holy fuck.”

“Just so you know, there are like three creepy ass stuffed animals under your bed and I was low key scared they might come to life and maul me to death. Talk about a boner killer,” Chanyeol snickered as he rolled out from under your bed, resting his chin on the mattress as he grinned at you like he didn’t have a care in the world. The last thing he expected was for you to chuck a pillow at his face. He let out an ‘oomph’ falling back at the sheer force of your throw. “God damn you’ve got an arm on you! You sure you’ve never played softball before?”

“Get the fuck out, Park Chanyeol! Get out!” You hissed, swinging your legs over the edge of your bed and trying to drag his ass back towards the window. He was heavy as fuck though so you didn’t get too far. He only laughed at your efforts, jumping to his feet and slinging his arms around you, in a tight, restricting embrace. You hit at his arms, demanding that he release you this instant and get the hell out the same way he’d come in.

“Are you mad at me, baby?” He pouted, despite the wild amusement glimmering in his eyes. You glared up at him, having given up on trying to squirm out of his vice like hold.

“Yes.”

His pout deepened, and he shot you the best, most heart melting pair of puppy dog eyes he could possibly muster. “Really?”

You sighed in defeat. “No.” A bright smile broke across his lips, but it dropped right back into a disappointed frown as you added, “but you still have to leave.”

“Can’t I stay? Just for a little longer?” He pleaded. You wished he could. You really, really, really wished he could. But you knew your dad. You knew once he got suspicious he wouldn’t let up. He’d probably come back to check on you again soon. And there was no way you’d get lucky twice in one night.

“You know you can’t,” you hummed apologetically, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

“I know,” he grunted forlornly, dropping his head against the curve of your shoulder, “can I see you tomorrow?”

You chuckled, “how about I come over to your place instead, yeah? Since your parents actually approve me. We can have a movie night?” He immediately perked up at the suggestion, an excited smile lighting up his handsome face as he squeezed your waist.

“Promise?” He extended his pinkie expectantly. You giggled at his childishness, but complied, wrapping your pinkie around his and pressing a soft kiss to your interlocked digits.

“Promise. Now get out of my bedroom, you dork.”

“I’m holding you to that!” He declared as he finally released you, backing towards your window, circling his index finger in the air. “You bail, then you better expect another late night visit from yours truly!”

“Understood,” you grinned, crossing your arms over your chest. He grinned as he slung one of his legs over the windowsill, moments away from swinging over the other before he suddenly paused, astonishment striking his features as he quickly looked back towards you.

“Ah! I almost forgot!” He quickly climbed right back onto your room, taking large strides in your direction.

“What’re you—” you gasped in surprise as he planted a quick kiss to your lips, grinning cheekily as he pulled away.

“See ya tomorrow, gorgeous,” he sang, clicking his tongue as he shot you a two fingered wave, disappearing out your bedroom window in the blink of an eye.

#exo imagines #exo one shot #exo smut #exo fluff #chanyeol #park chanyeol #chanyeol smut #chanyeol oneshot #exo chanyeol #exo reaction

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loniereads · 3 years

Text

cr: Sufficiently Advanced Magic

*spoiler warning*

Chapter 1 - 5

Chapter one

“I was prepared in a thousand different ways that didn’t matter” - Me for every test I’ve ever taken ☺️✨✨

Omg is he gonna go look for his brother 🥺 This book said found family but make it literal - side note, love the name Tristan.

I hope it’s explained as to WHY hundreds of 17 year olds are enduring a judgment to their possible death????

Imagine you’re brother going basically missing, your mom leaving, and then your dad pulling you out of school so you can prepare to possibly ✨die✨

“It could take years to grow strong enough-” 🥺 He’s going to sacrifice years of his life and risk certain death just for a chance to reunite his family is this book gonna make me cry?

I don’t like his name as much as I like his brothers but yanno whatever- how do you even say Corin

I already hate the dad??? Hello? Your first son is gone and your second could follow in his fate and you don’t even see him off?? Fuck you buddy why are book dads such assholes

“I loathed hurting people. I always had.” so i have decided that if anything happens to Corin I will kill everyone in the room and then myself. WHAT A CUTIE SWEET SOUL

If this book forces him to hurt someone I’ll riot-

Oh my gosh he hates fighting but he’s willing to fight for his brother I LOVE HEALTHY BROTHER RELATIONSHIPS they’re so pure

Corin is so nice to try to explain all of this weapon stuff and rune stuff to me like I have any idea wtf he’s talking about- he’s talking and I’m like I’m just happy to be here ☺️

I feel like the fact that he’s paying for everything he takes is important- like maybe other people just take and don’t leave anything? But he’s like here’s a coin for you scary tower~

“It was too cute to die” why do I love Corin so

What a cute ass sweet ass cinnamon roll, my god🥺

HE FELT GUILTY FOR KILLING A SHADOW SNDKDNSK I love him sm what a king

Chapter two

Why does everything he say sound so intelligent

ldmoaha not Corin having a convo with a book

It’s been too long since I read a normal romance book why did my brain just decide to ship Corin and a BOOK

Ok but him taking time to ask about his brother has me so soft

What the flip chapter 2 was so short??? ):

Chapter three

“You shouldn’t have done that” how ominous and amazing and I love it

He so casually was like OH LOOK A DEAD BODY OH LOOKIE PEOPLE

Omg is he gonna find his brother in here- OH MY

OMG HE DID AHHHHH

just... kidding. He did infact not find him.

Oh wait someone younger than him though- so is going into the tower a choice? That would make it a little better. Like you decide when you go in or? I NEED MORE INFO PLS

The word resh is growing on me

He risked his gold key on her 🥺

I love this little merry band of criminals- also just hoping the kid doesn’t yanno....die

omg Keras is out here crushing stones with his bare hands 😏 hellooooo

Wait I’m so conflicted??? I want to trust Keras and Vera but I also want to trust the book alsnsish

Vera is a whole mood I really hope she’s not like evil or just a weird thing in the tower or idk whatever I want her to stay

AWWAIT ☹️☹️☹️ They left Keras behind- that can’t be it. He’s gotta come back right? Like book person is gonna save him? Right!!??

Chapter four

VERA SUCH A BADDDDIE

This ‘kid’ they’re carrying is just making out like a bandit, he’s just getting carried through the tower 😂

WOW FUCK YOU VERA??? UH I HOPE SOMETHING KILLS HER-but not rhe kid 😔

Okay this might be a weird jump- but WHAT IF THE BOOK ENTITY ISSSSS HIS BROTHER??????????? Like the book person seems to really care if Corin lives? so it’s either just like a really caring person, OR HIS BROTHER

Pls let me be right

That would be so cool

The book entity helped him to finish the rest completely? Is this allowed? This feels not allowed

Corin: fighting monsters with criminals in a magical tower, very time sensitive needs to escape quickly

Also Corin: lemme just wrote a little diary entry ✨☺️

So obviously he’s going to get to keep his memories

Also like he got out of the tower so easily? What?

“And don’t let anyone hassle you about your attunement.” HOW VERY OMONIOUS OF YOU TO SAY

Honestly- Fuck Magnus Cadence

REPLACEMENT? What?

His childhood bestfriend is his half sister? I love that???? Instead of making them love interests they’re half siblings that’s cool as hell. We love childhood friends to siblings trope

I will reiterate, FUCK MAGNUS CADENCE

I hope we get to see their friendship bc I’m here for this trope

Chapter five

🥺 he sent the boys glove to his parents I’m so soft

Their relationship makes me so happy?? Like I love this. So they better reunite or I’ll riot

BROTHERLY RELATIONSHIPS ARE THE BESTTT

I miss Keras 🥺

I am so unsure of Sera. I do love the sudden sibling, and I really really hope they end up having a cool relationship and like she helps him find his(their) brother and hdjsjdjs

If anyone gives Corin a hard time for his attunement I’ll throw hands-

Not them earning points at their schools- All I can think about how is “10 points to gryffindor”

I love the word behooves

Can they go back into the tower already 💀 This down time is killing me. I want book entity, Keras and that boy who was unconscious the entire time back.

-side note, I absolutely love how all three of them(Keras, Corin, and Vera) were all so concerned with this unconscious boy and they literally carried him to complete safety. Who is this boy?? Will he come back? I miss him he better not be be dead. Vera can die but not unconscious boy.

I don’t know if I’m supposed to like Sera... but she’s giving me “I’m better than you because I have a better attunement” vibes and I do not like that at all so if Icneed to I will pretend to doesn’t exist.

Aw the schools has like animal representatives decisions?? CUTE UM. - there’s way too many for my brain to keep up with but I love them anyway

Not them assigning kids to basically play pranks on everyone else and tell them if they don’t find the prankster kids they lose points- what a weird ass school

“You and Patrick were practically brothers” GIRL YOU CANT SAY THINGS LIKE THAT TO SOMEONE WHO HAS AN ACTUAL BROTHER WHO IS MISSING AND/OR DEAD

-Also I know Tristen isn’t dead because like then what would be the point huh? HUH? So he’s got to be alive

Or I’ll riot.

“A walking rainstorm” idk why but that is so fucking adorable. I love my new comfort raintorm, Corin.

I can’t wait for them(Corin and Sera) to meet up with their friends and they have to explain that they’re now half siblings.

Them reminding him to not lose his little sigil pin makes me feel like he’s going to lose or forget it ummmm

Imagine getting fucking EXPELLED because you forgot your pin on your other uniform.

I feel like that would be me honestly. Are people not just...forgetful in this universe??

Ngl i would hate to be in the tortoise division

Corins attunement is lamer but his division is called the Phoenix? Like that’s so much cooler than tortoise

The fact that sera is trying to convince me the Spider division isn’t real makes me feel like she’s in it???

I know my babey Corin didn’t mean this as snarky as I would have liked him to but I love this line so much.

SARCASTIC BOYS WITH DADDY ISSUES OWN ME AND IM NOT ASHAMED TO ADMIT IT

Ngl I was hoping they would have roommates- I love a good school roommate dynamic

For the third time I would like to make my opinion to be known; FUCK MAGNUS CADENCE

Why has no one made a playlist for this book on Spotify? I am throughly disappointed

Not Corin being ghosted by his book-

I wish I had half the motivation Corin has? Like it’s my boys first day of school and as soon as he gets into his room he starts studying. I would have taken a nap

Oop jk as soon as he couldn’t find the rune he was looking for he went to lay in bed.

I’m sorry what in the hell is Wyddsday??? Did I miss them explaining to hat this universe has different names for it’s days of the week?? How am I supposed to know when this is Corin? Or what day it even is currently

World building is so intricate and interesting and I absolutely live for it- but it’s literally so frustrating sometimes learning and remembering everything

Okay Sera being less irritated about her studies being interrupted because it’s Corin is cute

Fuck

I still don’t know if I’m supposed to like Sera

Tashday, Fersday, Kyrsday, Tensday, Vasday, and Wyddsday- either I can’t count or they’re missing a day. And what order do they go in? I need a calendar insert pls and thanks

Wait wait did he just run into an ex? What is this sndlsnsin “long-buried emotions”??

Oooo we get a name. Cecily Lambert

I didn’t possibly think I could relate to Corin anymore than I already do but here I am

The dorm chiefs introduce themselves to everyone? How cute and Curtis didn’t seem at all annoyed by Corin asking so many questions I love when upperclassman in books aren’t rude for no reason. It’s such a tiring trait they often have smh

I need his exams to hurry up because I would very much like to get back to the fast paced tower scenes-

I know absolutely nothing about Jin but I love him immensely

#book commentary #if you’ve read this pls dm me ☺️#sufficiently advanced Magic #arcane ascension #uhhhhh I’ll just edit this post whenever I have thoughts

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sunflowerhae · 4 years

Text

-> Forgotten Love [M.L]

Requested by • @sweetie-yoongi7 hope you like it bb!✨🐌🍄

•3.7k

warnings• slight verbal abuse, language, a fight 👊💥😤

“Write about an experience where someone you love hurt you. Explain the situation, what was done or said, how you both responded, and what the outcome was. Must be 5 full pages long, and in MLA format. God, how annoying is that? I mean, what do I write about, my mom not letting me get McDonald’s one time because we had food at home?” You scoffed while pushing yourself back into your chair at the cool, air conditioned coffee shop you currently found yourself in. Summer was just officially ending, and October was creeping it’s way into the year, which meant the air wasn’t exactly hot, but it definitely wasn’t cool enough to walk around with a jacket on. You found solace in the beige and dark brown toned drink house, that smelled like coffee beans and lured in customers with its smooth jazz playlist. You were thankful Mark picked this place to have your little date in between classes, for the chill ambiance calmed down your irritated interior.

While you loved your creative writing class, and you absolutely adored your professor, you couldn’t help but be slightly pissed off at the writing prompt she randomly assigned you. You stared at it for what seemed like hours during class, no specific moment like described coming to your conscious. You were still thinking about it as you finally looked up at Mark’s shrunken frame, and the prompt was easily forgotten as worry took over your emotions.

“Babe? Are you okay?” At your concerned tone, Mark lifted his head to meet you eyes, before quickly looking back down at his coffee. He kept glancing between your eyes and his drink, while you patiently waited for him to explain what was bothering him.

Mark scratched the back of his neck, before looking back up at you one final time, and huffing out a soft sigh. “I know what you can write about.” He had barely even mumbled it, so neither of you were surprised when you asked him to repeat himself.

“I..know what you can write about.” The way Mark refused to look you in the eyes, and the tone of his voice, lead you to believe you knew what he was talking about, and you knew he didn’t want to say it.

You and Mark were an amazing couple.

You liked the same music, you both had the same sense of humor, and you were both equally loving towards each other and your friends. You were the two oldest people in your younger friend group, and two of the youngest in your older friend group. You both balanced it out quite well, and set an example for both groups as a healthy relationship while you did it.

But that’s not to say you were perfect.

It was a year ago, to be exact. You were both at the beginning of your sophomore year of college, and the priorities were starting to stack for both of you. Mark -being a music major- had to write a song and collab with the dance majors to make a dance for the song in about two months and turn it in as a beginning of the year exam. Meanwhile, you -being a film major- had to make a small movie using the theater kids as your actors; due in a month. To top on to all the stress, you had both recently moved in together, and had barely started unboxing before the projects got thrust at you.

You hadn’t noticed he was distancing himself from you, at first.

You were so distracted with your project, that every time he would blow off eating dinner together, or would stay at the school until well into the night, you didn’t complain much; just trying to finish your project and get a good grade. It wasn’t until a month later that you started to see that something was wrong. You had finished your project and had gotten amazing grades, and all you wanted to do was go out on a nice date with your boyfriend; something you hadn’t done in about a month. You texted him the time and place to meet you at, to dress nice, and that you’d be waiting with a surprise. You had seen the small “read 3:14pm” under the text, and while you were a bit puzzled as to why he didn’t respond, you didn’t worry about it too much - seeing as lately that was his thing - and just got ready for the night you hoped would be just as amazing as the day was.

You thought you looked pretty beautiful.

Your hair was nicely done, your nails were painted marks favorite color, and the black, tight dress with sleeves hanging off the side accentuated your body and breasts perfectly. You had even sent Haechan a picture to make sure it was “hot,” to which he replied that Mark’s a lucky man, which made you smile. You were looking fine tonight, and while you had had a reason to celebrate, you couldn’t wait to give Mark your all tonight.

{for more effect, I suggest playing It Happened Quiet by AURORA here}

You took your seat in the dimly lit restaurant that was definitely too expensive for a music and film major, and waited for your water that was requested to the waiter to arrive. With a quick glance at the time on your phone, you realized Mark wouldn’t be here for another ten minutes or so. So you just sat there, trying to distract yourself from the excessive amount of bread on your table, and watched the clock count down until 7:30, when Mark should be arriving.

7:40 rolled around and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at the door like it just did you super dirty. While it was just 10 minutes late, Mark was never one to be late.

Okay, that’s a lie, but he was never late to these type of things. And you perfectly timed it so that he would have time to get home from school, change, and then get to the restaurant. You quickly shot Mark a “you on your way?” text, before setting down your phone, trying not to be the clingy girlfriend, and keep your hope that Mark would be there soon.

Yet, by the time the clock struck 9, and your bread was stale and you had drank enough water to definitely get a bladder infection if you didn’t pee soon, your hope was completely dead. You silently got up from your seat and gave a small smile and nod to the hostess - who shot a sympathetic smile to you - before pushing the door of the restaurant open and walking toward your car.

You tried not to cry on the way home, but when you walked through the front door to see a dark and cold apartment, indicating that Mark had not yet come home, you couldn’t help but let the tears fall at the thought of something happening to him. You had called and texted him multiple times, and when he answered none of them, you even called the hospital to see if they had seen a patient that fit Mark’s description, or had someone named Mark Lee come in. You called all the hospitals in your area, in fact, but nothing came up. Your last hope was someone you actually didn’t want to call. Not because you didn’t want to call her, but because you didn’t want what you’re thinking to be true. But when all of your friends said they hadn’t heard from him, you had almost no choice.

“Hello?” Her chipper voice on the other end made you want to cringe, but you held it together.

“If Mark is in the room, don’t say my name. It’s y/n. Is mark with you?”

Yerim honestly didn’t know what to say. She stuttered a bit on the other end, before clearing her throat and mumbling a, “yes”.

You sighed and gave a half hearted, “okay, don’t tell him I called or anything, okay? Can you just, like, pretend you never even talked to me? Thanks Yeri,” hanging up the phone before she could answer.

You didn’t know how you felt about Mark working on a school project with his ex. When you had met Mark, it was at a college party during freshman year, around a year or so ago, actually. He had just been through a terrible breakup with his high school sweetheart who was - you guessed it - Yeri. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew you were the rebound. You just, fell so hard for him in the short time you had known him that, it didn’t really matter. You guessed somewhere along the way, Mark actually did fall for you, because he stayed, and he said he loved you, and you moved in together. Because of this, and because of the fact that Yeri was never brought up, you didn’t feel too insecure about your relationship.

But now that you’re sitting on the couch in silence, thinking about the fact that your boyfriend ditched your date to hang out with his ex, you can’t help but feel a bit unconfident in where your standing was with Mark. You slowly started realizing that Mark had, in fact, been distancing himself the past month; choosing to instead spend time with his ex-girlfriend instead of the girl that he claimed he loved.

Jealously and insecurities bit away at your insides when you heard the door slowly being unlocked from the outside. Looking at your phone, you realized it was 11:32pm. You had called Yeri at 10:15, so you suppose she honored your request to not tell Mark you called.

Mark was surprised to see you sitting on the couch when he walked in. He had figured that you would have gone to bed already. It was quite late for a Friday for you, seeing as this was the day you usually went to bed early; tired from the week. He felt guilty looking at you, so he choose to train his eyes on anything besides your crumbled figure on the couch. Meanwhile, you stood up, trying to catch his gaze.

“Mark. Where were you tonight?” Your harsh infliction made Mark slightly flinch. He wanted to apologize, because he knows what he missed. And when he finally did look at you, he felt even more guilty, because you looked quite upset about the situation, and you also looked absolutely beautiful tonight. Your black dress fit your body and extenuated your curves perfectly. Your hair was done gorgeously, and he could tell you spent a long time on your makeup. Mark did want to apologize, but when you said,

“Do you even care about this relationship, I mean it seems like all you’ve done lately is ignore me-”

Mark had almost seen red. Every little thing bothering him lately just...boiled over. He wasn’t thinking before he spoke, which never worked for him; this time wasn’t so different.

“God, shut up! Just shut up! All you do is talk! This is why I prefer to spend my time with Yeri, because she’s not so extreme like you always are! You’re not even half the women Yeri is, and you’ll never be! Sometimes I wish I hadn’t picked you to be my rebound for her an-“ Mark stopped himself from talking by clamping his hand over his mouth with wide eyes.

He hadn’t meant that.

He had not meant that.

He was just so upset by everything lately, and he spoke without thinking, like an absolute idiot.

But you didn’t know that. The tears streaming out of your eyes and the wobbling chin showed that for him. He reached out for you and took a step forward, only for you to take a step back, which basically broke Mark in half.

“Y/n I...” Nothing was said between you too, what was there to be said? To you, Mark had finally shown how he had really felt for the past month or so. You gave him one last look, before walking past him, putting on your heels - which were the fastest thing you could slip on - and quickly opening the door.

At the sound of the door, Mark snapped out of his daze, and rushed after you. “Y/n, no! Give me the keys, you can’t drive right now!”

Your tears had, in fact, gotten worse, but you said nothing to Mark as you picked up your pace to the parking lot of your apartments. Mark almost caught up with you, but you sped up even faster, which silently baffled him because you were wearing heals.

You finally got into the car and quickly got in to the drivers seat and locked the door just as mark arrived at the door. He was practically begging you not to go, and pleading to open the door. You just cried more and put your keys into the ignition, before backing out and driving out; Mark feeling like he was watching his whole life drive away from him.

{for more effect, I suggest playing Forgotten Love by AURORA here. You may have to play it multiple times.}

It had been three months since that incident. Three months since you and Mark talked. Three months of you being single. You, unfortunately, had a basic math class with Mark, and while you two used to sit in the corner together, you now both sat on opposite sides of the classroom. Or you in the front - him in the back. Wherever the first one in sat, the other sat on the opposite side.

Mark felt like he went through hell and back in those three months. He felt incredibly bad for what he said to you, and the fact that after that night, he didn’t try to get you back at all. The Monday after, you just sat on opposite ends, quietly agreeing that it was over. You had gotten all your stuff from the apartment, and luckily Haechan had a spare room you could live in.

Speaking of Haechan, your friend group was absolutely baffled when you both told them you had broken up. It had seemed like just a month before, you two were completely in love with each other; on the same page and everything. Then a month later; it’s over. They didn’t know who they should invite where, but you both reassured them (seperately. You both were just secretly on the same page still, without knowing it.) that you would be fine at the same social events.

You, of course, didn’t factor in that you would be watching your ex-boyfriend bring girls up to random rooms in his friends frat during parties. And that at bonfires, you would see him kissing random girls cheeks from across the fire. Or that, when you all had a group study date, he would bring a girl that none of you knew. You didn’t factor in that your ex-boyfriend would actively go out of his way to hurt you.

Truthfully, Mark didn’t do it to hurt you. He did it because if he didn’t hook up with girls at frat parties, he would drink too much and end up trying to kiss you. And if he didn’t flirt with girls at bonfires, he would spend the whole time staring at your from across the fire. And if he didn’t bring a girl to the study dates, he would break his pencils in anger when jaemin would wrap his arm around you in affection. But, at every event, no matter who he was with, Mark always failed.

He couldn’t stop stealing glances at you from across the fire while you laughed at something Nayeon - Johnny’s girlfriend - said to you. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking his pencils under the table when jaemin played with the tips of your hair. And he always ended up leaving the girls before anything happened at frat parties because he couldn’t stop wishing it was you.

It was actually at a frat party that Mark had gotten you back.

You were trying to have a good time. You didn’t come to the frat parties much, because the pain of seeing Mark lead a girl upstairs hurt you so much, you felt like your chest was on fire. But Haechan had all but begged you show up to this one, and you would have never declined anyway; It was Taeil’s birthday, after all.

You were dancing with Dahyun and Chaeyoung when you felt two hands grip your waist. You expected it to be one of the guys, so you turned with a smile on your face, only to come face to face with a man you had never met. The smile on your face dropped, and you took a step back from his grip.

He gave you a sick smile, and moved forward, back into your space.

“Hey, pretty girl. Wanna dance?”

“No.” You exclaimed disgustingly, before trying to move away from the unknown man. However, that proved difficult as his grip on your wrist was quite violent, and strong. You winced, and kept tugging on your hand, to no avail.

“Leave me alone, I don’t want to dance with you.” You kept pushing your arm back, but he just tugged you closer to his chest. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and felt sick to your stomach at what was about to happen. At the thought, you started wiggling out of his grip at a faster speed.

“Bitch, stop moving-“

“Call her a bitch one more fucking time, asshole.” You opened your eyes to see a small group has formed around you, your mystery creeper, and..Mark?!

“Get lost, man. This ones mine.”

Mark was seeing red again.

“She’s...not ....PROPERTY!” and with that final statement, Mark swung his fist and you ducked just in time for the weirdo to be struck in the face and loosen his grip on you completely. You pushed yourself forward, and ran behind Mark, to the open arms of your friends, who - as you understand - ran to get mark the minute they saw you struggling.

Mark fought this dude almost twice his size for a minute, and he was about to be taken out, before he locked eyes with you, and the power surged through him. One final punch to the unknown asshole, and he was on floor. Everyone cheered, and some people were already picking up his body, chanting “POOL! POOL! POOL!” But the noise faded out as Mark strides up to you, takes your hand, and drags you upstairs. He pushes you both into a bathroom, where you suddenly take charge as you force him down on the seat, and look through the cabinet for a first aid kit.

You and Mark say nothing as you rub his cut with alcohol. At the sudden sting, Mark hisses and places his hands on your hips, gripping them harshly to push himself through the burn. You can’t help but let your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of the love of your life’s hands on you again. You felt like you had lived a thousand years without water, and were suddenly given a water bottle.

You didn’t realize how long you stood there, relishing in the feeling of Marks hands on you. Mark had opened his eyes, to see you with your eyes closed and you hands clasped together in front of your chest - the cotton ball resting in your hands. Mark pulled you closer to him with a whimper, and when you opened your eyes back, you saw that you were significantly closer to Mark, and that he had tears threatening to fall.

With a cough, you looked back at the first aid kit and pushed yourself out of Mark’s strong grip. Another couple of minutes went by in silence, before Mark finally let out a soft, “I’m sorry.”

Your movements halted, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look down at the sad boys eyes.

“I spoke before thinking. I didn’t really mean the things I said, I was just stressed out from school, a-and, fuck I don’t know, y/n. I just..”

Mark was crying now, and he leaned down and placed his hands in his hands. You stepped back in surprise with wide eyes. “I just want you back. I want my girlfriend back. I want to love you again and spend a decade and then some apologizing for what I said. I’m such a fucking idiot I know I don’t deser-“

You shut him up by pushing his shoulders back up, sitting on his lap with your legs on either side of him (terribly hard to do on a toilet, but you’re a master), and kissing him like a woman starved. Mark quickly falls into your lips, and brings his hands up and under your butt, effectively scooping you up a bit.

You don’t know how long you and Mark sat there kissing, but when Yuta walked into the bathroom to pee and had to see two twenty year olds kissing, he never let you live it down.

You smile fondly at the memory, before looking back up at your lover, awkwardly sitting across from you. Before you know it, you’re leaning forward and taking his hand in yours.

“I’m not going to write about that. That was a personal thing between us, and I honestly don’t want to relive that moment longer than I have already. I’m going to write about the time my cousin stole my DS.” You laughed, and Mark visibly relaxed at hearing you weren’t going to write about it. While he had suggested it, that was because he wanted you to feel like you could talk about it if you wanted, but the truth is he hated reliving those three months too. He remembers what terrible state he was in without you, and he doesn’t like to think about it.

You knew he was dwelling on it, so you stood up slightly from the table and leaned down to kiss Mark - who saw what you were doing and met you half way. You both gave each other a few more pecks before you whispered, “I forgive you, always and forever. And I love you.”

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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years

Text

Little Bird: Chapter 37

Read on AO3. Part 36 here. Part 38 here.

Summary: There are only so many ways you can deliver news.

Words: 2700

Warnings: dystopia

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: I really didn't think I'd get a chapter out today, but I did, so yay!? Sorry it's a bit short (I remember when 2000 words was normal for me!), but I must be on my bullshit, as always.

Thank you very much to everyone who reached out. I had a shitty week this week, and I anticipate things in the next few weeks will not be super great. If there is a week where an update is missed, I hope you can understand.

I love y'all very much, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! <3

Beyond the sheet, the doctor’s shadow worked in silence, collecting instruments to soon be used to pry and expose your pomegranate flesh. Your monthly exam would never feel routine--prior to the collapse of society, they’d already been unpleasant. But now, separated from the provider by gossamer cloth, scrutinized in anonymity while metal objects cracked you wide, they crushed you in revulsion. The doctor whirled on his stool between your legs, air whispering over your bare skin. You swallowed.

A squeaking, clacking, and the cold metal of the speculum parted your labia and pierced your entrance. You held your breath, willing away the tears that pricked your sight--you’d always cried at this part, even before it became obligatory--drifting to your mind until he was finished.

Kylo Ren had been gone for 18 days, and in his absence, Gilead had drawn from your veins, a vampire of systemic proportions bleeding you not of life, but of the will to live itself. Without his presence, his power, his capability to extract you from bondage, you’d sunk into it like a tarpit, thick sticky ooze edging ever-closer to your throat. Sutures now removed, antibiotics completed, your days consisted of waking, walking, waiting, and, more than once, weeping, before wishing yourself into a witless slumber. Not that you were surprised. After all, before you’d fucked him in secrecy the first time, you’d asked yourself, what was life without living?

As it turned out: pretty fucking awful.

Pain lit up your spine when the doctor dug at your cervix for a swab--you winced, and the exam room door opened.

“Hey, we’re running behind, you do you want me to grab the next one, or--”

“No, no,” your doctor replied. “I’m almost done with this one. Did you get the urinalysis back?”

“Uh, no, sorry, I haven’t checked. I can go do it now.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Oh, hey.” Then he swiveled away--leaving you gaping, a red tunnel open for observation. “Did you hear what the director said this morning?”

The other man hummed in thought. “Something about Commander Pryde. I didn’t really care.”

You stared into the ceiling, hands folded over your stomach, tears stinging again while your thighs began to tremble. Privacy and respect hadn’t been afforded to you in three years; you had long been designated a womb buried in a hunk of meat. But something about having your cervix on display like the Hope Diamond was particularly nauseating. Your stomach groaned in humiliation.

“Yeah. Anyone who’s even spoken with Pryde in the last month is getting rounded up.”

Breath stalled. There was no way the doctor knew who you were--the sheet separating you ensured that. Dread iced over your chest.

“Shit,” the other man replied. “Really? Damn.” A pause, clanging of instruments. “Just questioning, right?”

“For now.” The doctor grumbled. “I just had the tenaculum. What the hell?”

“Isn’t it right over there?”

“Oh, right, yeah.” Wheels squeaked across the floor. “Anyway, it’s just a new round of Ren’s bullshit.” He sighed, scooching between your legs again. Something sharp and cold pinched you--you bit your lip. “Dissenters this, threats to Gilead that. I wouldn’t worry about it. Unless--”

A snort. “I hate the both of ‘em.” The man sighed. “You’d think that fixing the birthrate should be their top priority, the way things are going.”

The doctor grumbled, and something pinched you like talons, shooting pain up your spine. “Yeah. Well. If Ren has his way, half the people in this country are gonna end up dead.”

Your heart was tumbling into a canyon. In the time without him, your belief in your Commander’s defection had dimmed. You’d believed initially that his motivation for Pryde’s capture was revenge--something undesirable, but still understandable--but the longer his campaign went on, the more you realized that there would be nothing that would convince him to release his stranglehold on his position. A gnawing despair within you whispered that whatever Kylo Ren felt for you, he felt it one hundredfold for power and control; convincing him to leave it behind would not only be improbable, but impossible. Yet, as you considered betraying what little affection he might have, sorrow shredded you. The thought of his capture, trial, possible execution--

More tears. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him not here, of being torn from him, of his existence in the past tense. And you also couldn’t sacrifice your freedom for his sins.

The release of the speculum tugged you back to the exam, and you sniffled, clearing your throat. You’d missed the rest of the conversation.

“Whatever happens, at least we won’t be out of a job. They’ll always need someone to make sure the breeding stock is healthy.” A pause, as if to acknowledge that, yes, you were still in the room. “No offense, of course.”

Bile burned your tongue. You said nothing.

“Shit, that reminds me,” said the other man. “I’ll go check the urinalysis.”

“Thanks.”

The door shut. Without warning, latex fingers pushed inside of you, another hand pressing down on your belly. The inspection went on for seconds longer than you thought it should, his fingers curling, as if he was languishing there, reveling in the sensation of feeling your uterus. For a blink, every thought surrounding your Commander’s desertion of Gilead fled your mind, consumed by a venomous desire that he might catch this doctor in the act and crack his skull on the pearly tile, spray his blood, stain the grout. And then the intrusion was over, and your fury dissipated, the ache for retribution hollowing in your heart.

It wouldn’t have mattered, really, if he had been standing in the room when it had happened--the doctor was no anomaly, but a functioning cog in Kylo Ren’s machine. As long as you both remained in clutches of his own creation, he would spend eternity defending you from its design. Even if you could be an exception, other women would suffer in forced silence. And even if he could mould it to your liking, it would still mean he preferred you to exist in subjugation instead of liberation.

Hope had been a security blanket almost three weeks ago, thick and warm around your shoulders while he’d bathed you with gentle hands. Now it clung in tatters to your ribs, the tiny scraps fluttering like tissue with every gust of reality.

The door opened again.

“Hey,” the man said. “Got the results.”

A snap of rubber as the doctor removed his gloves. “And?”

“Look for yourself.”

Shuffling paper stifled the sad knock of your pulse in your ears. Perhaps you knew, and had always known, that Kylo might never come to agree with your perspective. You just frequently forgot to acknowledge that it would mean letting him go. Forever.

“Hey! Okay!” A warm palm slapped your thigh, and you squeaked. “We got another one!”

When no one responded, you realized he had been speaking to you. About a result. A urinalysis. Another one...

You couldn’t speak. Or breathe. Oh--

“You’re pregnant!”

Like a geyser, it burst from you--your sorrow, your fear, your disgust, your absolute joy--and poured in rivers down your cheeks, your hands clapping over your face. There was no one coherent thought that could be plucked from your mind, just a constant tornado of horrific exhilaration, a celebratory mourning that within you, a tangible testament to you and your Commander’s connection beat and pulsed and flourished with life, growing veins like vines and limbs like wings.

His child--your child--a physical entity you could nourish in the wake of his reluctance, an unalterable legacy inside of your womb, one that you, if you were to be denied all else, could adore. Your child, but also his child, descendant to a despondent devil, progeny to a preserver of your own imprisonment. A child that, if born into the realm of its father’s regency, would never know normality, or maybe even you--at all. A heaving sob cracked through, and you shivered, trembling with terrified bliss.

The doctor slapped your thigh again. “Don’t stress!” he said. “According to the chart here, you’re about six weeks along. There’s still a chance for disruption. So I’d stay relaxed, all right?”

Swallowing, you creaked out a noise of assent. There wasn’t a word you could bear to say.

After the doctor left, you slipped back into your red dress and wings--despite Kylo’s words weeks earlier, you had been provided no other options after he’d left, and you suspected he’d meant for you to only be out of uniform in his presence, regardless. You were escorted by an armed nurse out of the clinic, where a Knight--still masked, no cloak, just in tactical gear--was waiting by the black SUV you’d seen a few of them in before. Averting your gaze, you climbed into the back and buckled in. The vehicle started, you coasted through the parking lot, and onto the road.

For the first time in several days, the sun was out--though it would need more than an afternoon to evaporate the muggy air that had accumulated in its absence. You gazed into the stark, cloudless sky, placing your hands on your belly, as if you could commune with the little being inside of you, know it before it knew you. A question, awful and exciting, lingered in your mind as you imagined telling Kylo the news, but no answer revealed itself. You replayed the scenario over and over again, practicing it on your tongue--I’m pregnant--digging deep for his reaction. But it was useless, as initially unknowable as anything else about him. Anxiety constricted your heart, a dam about to crumble behind your eyes.

The Knight turned a corner, and you jostled in the backseat. There couldn’t have been much intimacy between them all. But still.

“How do you think the Commander would respond…” You swallowed again--hesitation kept wadding in your throat. “How do you think he’d respond to a pregnancy?”

Long, sweltering seconds ticked by without a word. Balling your hands in your lap, your palms slipped, heartbeat thumped in your clasped thumbs. You’d never heard a Knight say a word, before--you weren’t sure why you were expecting one to answer you. Lava licked at your neck, dripping down your spine, your teeth tearing at your cheeks.

“Whatever it is,” the Knight said, shattering expectation, “anything in comparison will look like apathy.”

A rush of interminable origin raced your flesh, flushing hot in your blood. That was about as accurate as you could expect. And unsatisfying as you could predict.

When you arrived at home and stepped out of the vehicle, another realization crested over you. Johana. Though your relationship had settled into an uneasy truce since the day the Commander had left, the words she spared you had been few and far between. You knew that your pregnancy was possibly her only dream, but combined with the uncharted territory of her husband’s intentions, you worried it would become her nightmare.

At the same time, perhaps these worries were unfounded--the threats Kylo would face by disrupting his Wife’s right to your child might be too great for him to risk his power. His concessions had been minor and in relative secrecy, affecting only his relationship with you--everything else had the secondary benefit of securing his reign. He’d said plenty, but how much had he meant? After overhearing the discussion in the exam room, you were fairly certain that if made to choose between Gilead and you, you’d lose.

You followed the Knight into the house, relieved to cross into central air. Taking a few slow steps, you drew a deep breath.

“Ms. Johana!” You paused, listening for a response. You heard none. “Ms. Johana?”

She wasn’t in the house--that meant she was likely out in the yard. In the heat. Sighing, you trudged through the halls through the back door, squinting as light smacked your face. In the weeks since Kylo’s departure, the garden had been cleared and mostly restored at Johana’s behest--the grass gleamed gold, summer flowers replanted in over-saturated swirls of color. You hopped over the stones, turning the words on your tongue, hoping to make them real in your mouth.

I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m--

“Ofkylo.”

You stalled, recognizing the moniker as yours, resentful of its familiarity to your ears. Beyond one of the hedges was Johana, prying open a birdfeeder. Heat--though whether it was from the sun or your fear, you didn’t know--sizzled the nape of your neck. You steeled your jaw, grabbing your skirts and tromping through the trimmed lawn in her direction.

“What are you doing out here?” There was a bag of mixed seed at her feet, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows as she wiped the feeder clean with a rag. “I thought you just left for your exam.”

“I did. I’m back,” you said. “I was, um. Looking for you.”

“Oh.” She flipped the top in her little hands, scrubbing it clean, too. “Well, that’s fine. What’s going on? They didn’t find out about the gunshot, right?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no no. That’s fine.”

“Good,” she said. “I’m tired of lying for your benefit. The antibiotics weren’t--”

“I know, Ms. Johana,” you sighed. “So…” The words were so simple, but so difficult to say. “The exam went well.”

She nodded, digging into the seed, scooping a helping. “Uh-huh.”

There was nothing that would make this any less nerve-wracking. You inflated your chest, and let it go. “I’m pregnant.”

Johana stopped, like she’d been shot herself, staring into the ground. The seed fell from her palms and spilled over her shoes. She rose, gaze drifting from your feet, to your hands, to your face, her chin shaking. A smile was threatening to explode across her lips.

“Wait.” She exhaled. “Really?”

Wagging your arms in admission, you nodded. “Yup.”

A human springtrap, she squealed, launching into you and wrapping you in a tight, bony hug. You wheezed from her strength--she squeezed you, pinning your limbs to your sides as she wriggled you like a toy.

“Yes!” She jumped up and down, still holding you. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Yes,” you repeated. “It’s, um, it’s true!”

Johana released you, erupting with elation. “This is amazing!” she said. “Lord, I’m going to have to go see everyone. Yes, we’ll have to have a party.” She clapped her hands and hugged you again. “Can you let the Marthas know to clean this up? I have to get going.” A playful, devious smirk twisted her mouth as she skipped into the house, congratulating herself. “Oh, they’re going to be so jealous! I’m pregnant!”

You stood, staring down at your belly. It wasn’t obvious, yet--but it wouldn’t be long. The thought of Johana preening, presiding over your stomach like it was her work paralyzed your heart. Had it been any other Commander, any other household, you might have even been relieved to incubate your ticket out of the Colonies, but now, you felt only panic. You didn’t want to give this baby up to her--a desire you never would have anticipated.

But then, none of this had been anything you had the ability to anticipate. A Handmaid was not supposed fuck her Commander outside of the Ceremony, or kiss him, or wake up in his embrace. A Handmaid was not supposed to yearn for her Commander, feel comfort from his voice, find companionship in his presence, or feel grateful for his brutality and strength. A Handmaid was not supposed to plan her Commander’s downfall, or plan his escape, and especially not plan his future with her in it.

A Handmaid was not supposed to fall in love with her Commander. But you were a Handmaid. And it was too late.

You left the empty birdfeeder and the bag of seed, slinking up the stairs, creeping back to your room. Throat, chest, face tight, you laid in bed, palms planted on your stomach, and breathed. Shutting your eyes, you hoped for the hundred-thousandth time in three years you would wake up in a different world--a world where the father of your child was not your legal owner, a world where another woman was not claiming it as hers, a world where you opened your eyes and you were not alone, and you were free, and you were truly, deservedly loved.

If you fell asleep, you didn’t know--the next thing you recalled was the familiar rumble of the Audi’s engine, dying as it rolled into the driveway.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #handmaid au #fanfiction problems #idk I got feelings

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worryinglyinnocent · 3 years

Text

Fic: Forged Through Fire (2/13)

Summary: Amestris. Once democratic, now a military dictatorship. Prohibition is strict; personal freedoms curtailed. All alchemists must be state-licensed or face imprisonment. Foreigners are met with suspicion. It’s a grim place and a grim time, but there are some people able to bring a little light to the world. Behind an innocent-looking bookshop, speakeasy proprietor Chris Mustang has formed an unlikely alliance with unlicensed alchemist Van Hohenheim to provide alcohol to those who want it and medical care to those who need it. When Riza’s newly complete tattoo becomes infected, Roy brings her into this underworld, little knowing the way it will change their lives in the future – uncovering the secrets of the mythical Philosopher’s Stone and the schemes of a Fuhrer hell-bent on achieving immortality, all whilst navigating what they mean to each other.

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Rated: T

[One] [AO3]

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Content warning for this chapter: Discussion of domestic abuse – parent on child; implied self-harm and discussion of self-harm.

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Forged Through Fire

Two

The phone ringing startled Roy out of the doze he hadn’t realised he’d fallen into, and he jumped up out of his chair, massaging the crick in his neck as he went over to the phone on the wall.

“Mustang.”

“Hello Roy. It’s Riza. Riza Hawkeye.”

“Riza.”

For a good long while, Roy had absolutely no idea what to say to her. He hadn’t seen her since the day that he’d finished his training under Berthold and passed his state licence exam, although they’d kept in touch with the occasional letter. It was the first time she’d ever called him since he’d moved out of barracks and got his own apartment with his own phone line, and the novelty of hearing her voice again after all the time that had passed was enough to render him speechless. Finally he regained his tongue.

“It’s good to hear your voice again,” he said.

“Yeah. It’s good to hear yours, too.” She sounded quiet, her voice low and measured as if she’d been crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“My father died.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “The funeral’s on Friday if you want to come. Please don’t feel obligated. There won’t be all that many people there. He wasn’t exactly a social man.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.” The relief in her voice was almost palpable, even over the phone. “So… How have you been?”

“All right. Not doing much, we haven’t been shipped out anywhere yet so it’s mainly just paperwork and patrols.” God, this was the inanest conversation ever. He hadn’t spoken to Riza for a year and a half, and this was what he was finding to talk about? “How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know how to feel right now if I’m honest. Everything’s so… weird. It’s not like when Mom died. Everything was easy then. I was sad because she wasn’t there anymore. This time…”

Roy knew exactly why she trailed off. Receiving letters from Riza in the time since he finished with Berthold had always been bittersweet. He knew the situation she was in, and he had no idea how to help her out of it. Now, she was out of it more by luck – if death could be considered luck – than judgement, and he still felt a stab of guilt that he had not been able to do anything for her.

“Yeah. I understand.” Did he really? “Do you need anything?” He didn’t want to think of her in that ramshackle old house all by herself. “Groceries, company, anything?”

“I’m ok. I’ve got everything sorted. I think I just need to know there’ll be a friendly face at the funeral. Thanks.”

“Any time.” He was reminded of the time he took her to the bar after her tattoo got infected. “How’s your back?”

“Sorry?”

“It was a long train of thought. How’s your back doing?”

“It’s fine.” For the first time, he thought that she might be smiling on the other end of the phone. “I’ve not had any problems at all since Trisha and Hohenheim fixed me up.” There was a pause. “Are they still there at Madam Christmas’s?”

“Yep. I don’t think they’ll ever leave.”

Riza laughed. “Well, send my regards next time you see them.”

“I will. I guess I’ll see you on Friday.”

“Till Friday. Thank you, Roy.”

They said their goodbyes, and Roy stayed staring at the phone for a long time after he hung up. It was only now that he realised just how much he had missed Riza in the intervening time. Perhaps it was because they had never completely lost touch with each other that the separation had not seemed as absolute as it did now; she had always still been on the periphery of his world, even if she wasn’t regularly in it like Aunt Chris and his new friends and colleagues within the military. Now he realised just how long it had been.

She hadn’t changed at all, and when he saw her standing in the cemetery on the grey and miserable morning of the funeral, he was almost relieved to see that she was still just the same Riza. Although, that said, not exactly the same. There was something behind her eyes, a little bit haunted. Maybe it was just grief, maybe it was something far more complicated. She gave a wan smile when she saw him, making her excuses to the scant other mourners and coming over to him.

“Hey. It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise. Are you ok?”

She nodded. “I’m getting there. It’s still all so surreal.” She glanced over towards the grave and the drab preacher getting ready to intone the service. “Shall we go? It shouldn’t take too long, I don’t think. I mean, what is there to say about him?”

Roy would have given her the usual platitudes about Berthold being a good man and a great alchemist, but whilst the latter may have been technically true, neither really rang true to Roy’s ears in regard to Riza. Berthold might have been the one to teach him flame alchemy, but he had also been the one to permanently ink that flame alchemy on Riza’s back and shape the course of her life forever. The words she had spoken to him on that fateful day when she’d shown him the array had always echoed in his mind. What’s done is done. Nothing could change the fact that the tattoo existed, and that Berthold had been the one to put it there. Nothing would ever erase that. Nothing Roy or anyone else could do would ever be able to make that better. Did that mean he didn’t ought to try?

The service was short, just the usual empty words over a plain casket, and Roy hung back as Riza received the well wishes of the few other attendees until she was alone with the headstone again.

Riza sighed. “Is it bad that when everyone says ‘I’m so sorry’, there’s a part of me – a large part – that thinks ‘I’m not’?”

Roy shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. I think given everything, that’s natural.”

“When I looked in on him that morning and found him… I thought I’d feel sad, or that I’d panic, or maybe that I’d just feel numb. But honestly the thing I felt the most was anger. Not because he was dead, that he’d been taken from me in that respect. I wasn’t angry at the world. I wasn’t even really angry at him. I was angry with myself, because I hadn’t done anything, and now he’s dead and I don’t have the chance to call him out for everything he did.”

“It’s not your fault. What could you have done?” He paused. “It’s everyone else who should have been doing something.”

“Hey, don’t blame yourself either. He had just as much of a position of power over you as he did me. In a different way, but I’ve heard cynics say that apprenticing under an alchemist is equivalent to selling your soul to them until you pass your licence.”

“Yeah. But after I passed my licence. Anyway, enough about me. Do you want to come somewhere and talk about it somewhere that’s not a very windy cemetery with rain threatening any moment?”

Riza nodded. “Yeah. I could really use a drink right now.”

Roy smiled. “All right. Come with me.”

It was a quiet and contemplative walk through the city towards the bar, and Roy couldn’t help giving the odd glance sideways over at Riza as they made their way through the damp streets. It had rained earlier, and the clouds were still hanging dark and heavy in the sky. In a way, the weather reflected the entire city – dark, oppressive, unrelenting; constantly hanging over their heads like the Sword of Damocles.

Amestris hadn’t always been like this, according to those who’d seen it in its heyday. Roy was still too young to remember a time before the Fuhrer had come to power and democracy had given way overnight to the grim dictatorship they’d now found themselves living in, but Aunt Chris and Hohenheim remembered it. They’d made the best of things in the best way they knew how – defying the law and doing what was needed anyway.

A part of him wished that they didn’t have to do it, that he could somehow come into a grand inheritance and set them up comfortably for the rest of their days, but he knew them both and he knew they’d still keep doing what they were doing even if money was no object. There were some things that were more important than staying on the right side of the law.

Still, just because they had carved out their own little niche in the new world they lived in didn’t mean that they couldn’t be nostalgic for better times. Aunt Chris wasn’t one for reminiscing, but he’d found her and Hohenheim sharing the good Drachman vodka more than once after last orders had been called.

His thoughts ended up coming full circle round to Berthold and the many arguments they’d got into over Roy’s decision to join the military. Berthold could remember the time before and held no love for the military regime he was now living under. Roy had never known different but knew enough to be well aware that he was becoming part of the problem. With a problem like this, though, with something so well-established and deeply ingrained, it was impossible to effect any sort of change except from within, and when he had first joined the academy, Roy had been naïve enough to think he could be the one to make that change.

Four years later, he was not quite as convinced, but his determination still held fast.

Vanessa was on duty in the bookshop today, and if she seemed surprised to see them coming in at four o’clock in the afternoon then she didn’t show it, simply waving him through without a word. She gave Riza a little more scrutiny, but since she was coming in with him, there wasn’t a lot of point in giving her the third degree. Of everyone who was involved with Madam Christmas’s bar, Roy was the one who was most aware of the need for secrecy. One of the advantages of joining the military and becoming part of the regular city patrols was getting inside knowledge on which premises were about to be raided as suspected liquor hideaways and being able to subtly clear the bookshop from the records. If it was an abuse of power, well, at least it wasn’t hurting anyone like most of the rest of the abuses of power that the military undertook on a regular basis.

Aunt Chris was behind the bar as usual when they got down into it, and she nodded over to a corner table, where Armstrong and Hughes were already sitting with Gracia. Roy turned back to Riza as Hughes waved him over.

“They’re friends and colleagues. We don’t have to join them if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine.” Riza smiled. “I think some happy company sounds like a good idea right now.”

“Roy!” Hughes grabbed the coats that had been holding the other chairs at the table. “Is this the girl you were telling us about?”

“This is Riza Hawkeye, yes. She’s Berthold’s daughter. Riza, this is Alex Armstrong and Maes Hughes, and Hughes’ girlfriend Gracia.”

“Actually, Gracia is no longer my girlfriend.”

Roy raised an eyebrow. Considering how giddy Hughes sounded, he highly doubted that there had just been a break-up.

“She’s my fiancée!”

Gracia gave a long-suffering sigh, but the smile in her eyes showed that she still found Hughes’ antics endearing after being with him for a year.

“Congratulations.” Riza took a seat beside Gracia and the two were soon deep in conversation as Roy went over to the bar to get the next round in.

Chris gave him a look.

“I’m glad you’ve turned up. He’s starting to be insufferable. Why did I let you persuade me to allow your friends in?”

“Because you love me.”

“Unfortunately, that’s true.” Chris peered over his shoulder at Riza. “How did it go at the funeral?”

“Much of a muchness, really. What can you say about a man who was a complete recluse dedicated to his research above all else, including his daughter?”

“Roy, you can’t keep beating yourself up about that. And for God’s sake, not now. She’s got enough on her plate; she doesn’t need to prop up your guilt as well. Don’t make her carry more than she has to. If she wants to be mad at you for not rescuing her then that’s her decision and she can do it in her own time.”

She continued to pour the drinks, and Roy leaned back against the bar, watching his friends.

“You’re not subtle,” Chris said behind him. “Who knows? Maybe now that you’re back in touch, you’ll finally ask her out.”

“Madam!”

“I call them how I see them, Roy-Boy. Remember you’ve always got the perfect date location right here.”

“Yeah, with Vanessa and Fiona teasing me every time I go in and out and you watching like a hawk.”

“Freudian slip there?”

“Shut up.”

He grabbed the drinks and brought them back over to the table, where Hughes was now expounding the current barracks rumour mill theory that Tim Marcoh had faked his own death and was now serving as personal physician to the Emperor of Xing. At least Riza was smiling, and although that tired and haunted look behind her eyes had not gone away, he could tell that the smile was genuine.

It was only later, once Armstrong, Hughes and Gracia had left them, that he could recognise the sheer exhaustion and the willpower it was taking her to hold everything together.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Riza shook her head. “No. Not yet. I don’t think I can face that big empty house knowing that there’s no one else in it and there never will be again. And knowing that I’m going to have to sell it. It’s not the selling it that’s the problem really, I’m not so attached to it. It’s just all the paperwork involved.”

“Well, you don’t have to think about it right now. And I can always stay over if you want.” Riza gave him a sharp look. “I mean on the sofa!” He tried to backtrack. “So that it’s not so big and empty and lonely.”

She laughed. “No, I’ll be ok. I’m just not ready to face it quite yet.” There was a long pause. “Your friends are nice.”

“They can be a bit much, but they mean well.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic; they really are nice. Although I think Alex’s goodbye hug might have broken all my ribs.”

“Yeah, he’s not good with ‘subtle’.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Riza sat back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling. “The weirdest thing is not knowing what comes next. I’ve never really had any plans. Well, I had plans but they’re not going to work out. I always just thought I’d end up keeping house for my father until… well, until he died. I just hadn’t reckoned on it being so soon. I’ve got my entire life ahead of me and I have no idea what I’m going to do with it. It’s scary, in a way.”

“What were your plans originally?”

Riza shook her head. “It’s stupid.”

“It can’t be that stupid.”

“Fine. I was going to follow in your footsteps. I wanted to join the military and help you do what you’re doing, trying to change the system from within. But then my back happened so that’s out now.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I’m not really much good for anything else. What other careers require crack shot aiming skills?” Riza snorted. “Looking back I’m honestly surprised he let me near a gun. Maybe he was cocky enough to know I’d never turn it on him.”

Roy wanted to say something, the urge to apologise again bubbling up in the back of his mind, but he squashed it down. Like Chris had said, Riza was dealing with enough conflicted feelings of her own, she didn’t need his guilt as well.

They continued to drink in silence for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Back when he’d first started learning under Berthold, they’d spent quite a lot of time together like this in the kitchen of the Hawkeye home, and it was surprising how easy it was to slip back into that familiarity despite the intervening years.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the drapes along the back wall twitching and Trisha coming out of the clinic. There was a flash of red lightning as Hohenheim transmuted the door into the wall, and then he came out too.

“We’re off,” Trisha said to Chris. “We’re not expecting anyone else tonight, but you know how to get hold of us if there’s an emergency.”

They left the bar hand in hand and Roy watched them go. When he looked back at Riza, her eyes were following them too, with a kind of longing. She had never given voice to anything, at least not in Roy’s earshot, but he’d often had the thought and he knew she must have had it too. Her back meant that she could never be intimate with anyone. Well, at least not without literally trusting them with her life.

“Roy… Would you do me a favour?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t agree yet, you don’t know what it is.”

“Ok. What is it?”

“Will you burn my back?”

“What?”

“I want to get rid of this thing.” Riza wasn’t looking him in the eye, just staring at the dregs in the bottom of her wine glass. “I want it gone so that I can have a normal life and do all the normal things I should be able to do. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of him having control over me even though I just buried him. It doesn’t matter that he’s dead, he’s always going to have this piece of me, and I don’t want it anymore. I just want it to be over.”

“Riza, maybe it would be better if you think on this without three glasses of wine in you.”

The thought of doing it made him feel sick. He was a state alchemist, and he was career military; he knew that he’d be called on to use flame alchemy on people in the future. He knew he would have to use it to kill people. He’d almost made his peace with that pre-emptively, knowing he would hopefully be able to atone for it once he’d worked to make everything better.

Burning Riza though, even at her own request… Hadn’t she already suffered enough at the hands of flame alchemists?

“It’s not a new idea, Roy. I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

“I still think this isn’t the best time to be discussing it. Maybe tomorrow. I’ll come over and we’ll talk about it then. Honestly, Riza, it’s a large area of skin and the damage I’d have to do to destroy it completely, I think it would kill you.”

Riza nodded. “I understand.”

There was a long silence after that, and in the wake of Riza’s request it was an unusually tense one; the uneasiness remaining long after Riza had changed the subject and they were talking freely again. By the time he was walking her back to the Hawkeye house, though, things seemed to have lightened, and Riza seemed to be feeling a little better.

Roy had managed to put the conversation to the back of his mind for most of the following day. He’d taken a few days’ leave for the funeral to be there for Riza if she needed him; she had no other relatives to help her out and she’d lived an isolated enough life not to have any real friends either.

It was only when the phone in the bar rang and Chris passed it over to him that he remembered with a jolt what Riza had asked of him, and his heart was in his mouth as he heard her quiet and hitching voice on the other end of the line.

“Roy, I need your help. I’ve made a massive mistake.”

#FMA Brotherhood #FMA Fanfiction #Royai #Riza Hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Fic: Forged Through Fire

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meet-me-in-the-kitchen · 4 years

Text

What Once Was Mine College!AU

In which Y/N and Harry are old lovers who somehow find their way back to each other amidst this chaos.

If a pandemic cancels the remainder of your spring semester, and your recent ex decides to suspend the rules of your breakup in case “the apocalypse” keeps you apart forever, and you find yourself lying once again in his bed, your faces flushed, the afternoon humming by outside, take your time with leaving. The future will charge onward, but for now you can allow the memory of other lazy days you spent in this bed to envelop you entirely. You would like to believe this feeling transcends whatever comes next. For an hour or two, it does.

It had started with a fateful cough, class cancellations, and a choice to stay.

“Aren’t you gonna get up?” Katia, one of your roommates, questioned from the room outside of yours. She wasn’t bunking with you; the girl who had been, Elise, had mysteriously left about a week ago, when you’d woken up to find no trace of her usual throw pillows or belongings in the bed across from yours. “It’s the last day of classes, you know.”

You did know. You were all too aware of this fact, following the sudden declaration of a virus more minuscule than a grain of salt’s permeation of the world. The university had decided to close classes and encourage all students who were able to evacuate the surroundings as quickly as possible, heading home before the virus spread enough to veto travel entirely. Students took to this, although a bit anxious in regards to their tuition, refunds, and housing.

You had these concerns, as well. The virus didn’t seem real at first. You went through the stages of believing the media was exaggerating the virus, and then thinking that it wasn’t really a threat to youth, but that it was one’s civic duty to stay inside so those with weaker immune systems could thrive. What had concerned you most was tuition and housing. But, right now, you were all too aware of the empty space next to your bed. The fact that you’d stayed in your dormitory all of last and this week studying for assessments and exams, only to somehow end up with a heaviness in your head, a clammy, burning feel to your forehead.

You were sick with something. And it terrified you.

“I’m thinking of just getting a head start on packing,” you answer hesitantly, trying to string the words together as confidently as possible, all too aware of how your throat felt sore trying to accomplish this. “I don’t think there’ll be any actual classes, or not much of anything substantial, anyway.”

“Okay,” your roommate piped uncertainly. “Er, do you want me to help you when I come back?”

“No!” you cleared your throat, trying to mask the horror. “I mean... it’s fine, I just need to do this alone.”

“You’ve been locked in your room a while, sweetie,” Katia said kindly from outside of the door, and you felt your heart stop. “I know with all of the stuff with Harry, it’s only natural, but I’m here for you, ‘kay?”

“M’kay. Thanks, Kat.”

You heard the door click shut.

—

Harry.

Harry. Harry. Harry.

It had been so long since you’d seen him. Since the break-up. Not all of it was about pent-up emotions, though. There was also the whole “I think my roommate gave me coronavirus before she fled the residence” which kept you from wandering outside of your room. But you’d be lying if the way you’d broken up hadn’t served as a motivator to keep you cooped up in your dormitory, completely isolated.

Tears pricked your eyes as you remembered the fight. The one you’d instigated when he’d done absolutely wrong, when it was your insecurities that had presented themselves in the privileged setting, the flirtatious looks he was on the receiver end of. The feeling that he’d never truly be yours, and that he was never meant to be, in the first place.

“You always do this,” he’d growled, alcohol in his bloodstream, but the bitter truth on his lips. “This is what you do, isn’t it, sweetheart?” the words so harshly spoken, his fingers digging into your wrist, eyes intoxicated but clearer than you’d ever seen. “You fuckin’ run...they always run.”

“Harry, let me go,” you’d said quietly, looking down while you still felt the unbearable iciness of his stare.

“Let you go,” he had laughed bitterly, throwing back another swig of alcohol with his free hand. The one that wasn’t only tightening his grip on yours. “I’m the one...”

“Harry,” you’d whimpered, face crumpling. “Harry, you’re hurting me.”

You weren’t referring to the wrist.

He had paused. His darkened gaze trained on yours, lips parting with each heavy breath, eyes intensely searching your face for anything, everything you could give him. Then, they averted. Defeated. His grip loosened.

“This time,” his voice was thick with suppressed emotion, the same storminess in his eyes. “This time, if you run, don’t come back.”

Now, you were painfully aware of how alone you were. In a dormitory thinking you were infected with something too scary to try to comprehend. Unable to go outside, because you didn’t want this to affect anyone else, but also unable to get tested, because you weren’t yet a priority. You were surviving off of granola bars you’d picked up not long before this catastrophe began, along with a bunch of cold medicine and fluids. With no one to call. No home to return to, besides one filled with people who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about you.

“I’ve driven away the only person who cared,” your voice broke, as your stomach rumbles. You didn’t have the heart to grab another stale granola bar or saltine.

—

Harry’s worried, to say the least.

After that Friday night, nearly a week and a half ago, you’ve disappeared on him. At first, he was a shell of himself, showing up to classes, a hardened aspect to him. You’d really hurt him, and he felt he had the right to be upset.

But once the third day passed with no sight of you, he’d grown a bit curious. You weren’t one to miss classes: you’d once shown up hungover out of your mind, with a killer headache, but still willing to offer your analysis of Franny and Zooey, and why it was a love story before anything else.

Were you okay?

When this question had initially circulated through his mind the first couple of days, he’d merely scoff to himself. Why wouldn’t you be? You’d toyed with his emotions, unhinged all of his trust. He thought you got some sick satisfaction out of it. He wasn’t going to keep chasing you, forever.

After the first week, he began asking people. Just casually, to people who didn’t know you closely enough to tell you. He spoke to people you knew were apart of organizations you were passionate about and in. Nada. Zilch.

He’d resorted to asking Katia, seeing as your other roommate was gone, and she’d simply huff and leave.

Today was the last of day of classes, and, quite frankly, Harry realized as he watched the professor lecture on how classes would be commencing, he was angry. Furious.

“Of course,” he whispers darkly. “Of course, she gets to be locked up in the tower, feeling sorry for herself after she hurt me.”

“Er, what?” Niall rose a bit from his cat nap, eyes trained curiously on his fuming friend, who suddenly rose, fingers clenched to fists at his sides.

Harry left the lecture hall with a straight face, and walked a ways away before picking up his cellphone and finally dialling the number he’d religious avoided for days now.

“H-hello,” your voice came out incredibly soft through the receiver, and he hated that it made him want to kiss you everywhere.

“Where are you?”

His voice comes out harsh. Clipped.

“I’m in my dormitory,” you answer with confusion evident in your voice. “Why—”

He hangs up.

—

When you hear a loud rapping against your door, you regret giving him the key to your dormitory. All that separates you now is a bedroom door.

Fuck, you think, eyes wildly darting everywhere to plan an escape. You can’t risk letting him in here, either. This means you can’t jump out the window avoiding him.

“Y/N,” his voice is deep, loud, and however cold it is, you so desperately want to let him in. “Let me in.”

“N-no,” you wince at the way your voice trembles. “I can’t.”

“Cut the shit,” he snaps, and you flinch. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to pretend that you’re the one struggling, when you can’t even commit to me.”

You said nothing, tears welling in your eyes. Everything he had said was the truth.

“Stay out, Harry,” you keep your voice cool and even, this time. “Haven’t I made it clear that I don’t want you here?”

The other end of the door is silent, and your face falls. You lean back against the headboard of your bed, thinking he’s gone. He’s finally left, and you don’t like the feeling that wells in your chest in response to this fact.

Fate works in funny ways, sometimes.

You cough.

It’s a standard cough: reverberating through your chest, reacting to the phlegm congesting your oesophagus almost itchingly, and disrupting the natural rhythm of your breaths. It’s loud enough. Raspy.

You think you’re alone to do it, until a voice calls from the other end of the door; and it’s hoarse, tight.

“Y/N?”

“Er,” you pause uncertainly, wondering if it really would be that dangerous for you to jump ship out of the window and run. “Yes?”

“Was that,” his voice is low, hushed. “...Was that a cough?”

You could have laughed. Although the circumstances were admittedly dire, the mental image of Harry backing up and fleeing the scene like a headless chicken at the rasp of a cough conjures some amusement.

“That’s what they tell me,” you reply awkwardly. A girl can only take so much transparency.

“Do you have any other...” he trails off.

“Harry,” you dead-pan. “I’m fine. You can leave.”

Silence.

“No.”

“Harry—“

“Let me in, Y/N.”

“I can’t,” you stress, eyes widening in panic. “Just go..okay? It’s not what you think.”

“Why can’t you let me in, then?”

Relentless.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I just don’t want you to come inside?”

He scoffs. You hear the door knob being fiddled with and curse, as he promptly swings the door open after some hankering. You bury yourself under the covers. For all the money you were throwing at this institution, the least they could do was offer a decent lock system.

Harry takes in the disorganized dormitory; steps inside with no invitation. His eyes linger with interest at the Nature Valley granola bars located on Y/N’s dorm room floor. He steps over a few boxes, sits down at the corner of your bed with confident air.

“Stay away from me,” you groaned. He raised an eyebrow.

“Why, exactly, should I do that?”

“Because,” you pause, preparing yourself to tell the truth. Your eyes stare ahead at the inside of your blanket, burning. “I’ve been coughing, and my throat’s closing up.”

“And?”

“I think I have it,” you whisper, brokenly. Eyes welling with tears.

He promptly throws the blanket upwards, slides into the bed beside you. He grabs a Nature Valley bar on his way up. You gawk openly at him as his toes dance while his fingers tear at the plastic wrapper, bringing the bar to his mouth with great interest. He bites into it, and recoils a little.

“Not my flavour,” he comments, blithely. As if that’s any explanation.

“Are you stupid,” you stress, eyes wide as saucers. “I just told I think I have COVID-19, and you’re helping yourself to my rations?”

He snorts.

“Is this why you haven’t been coming to class?” Harry asks, forest green eyes twinkling slightly with a blend of amusement, but also awe, to your dismay. Your stubborn silence causes him to let out an uncharacteristic bark of laughter. You shoot him a dirty look.

“To think I thought it was because of something I’d said,” he marvels, with another bite and subsequent recoil to the snack bar. He shakes his head. “You, Y/L/N, have a way of messing with a bloke’s head.

“Forgive me,” you spit, “for fulfilling my civic duty of—“

“Civic duty?”

For some reason, this sends him into peals of laughter.

“Yes,” you smart, crossly. “My—“

“You,” he inches closer, and you move back cautiously, until you’re pressed up against the wall, and his chest is pressed to yours. You can feel his breath warmly fanning onto your flushed cheeks. “are not sick.”

“What in God’s name do you—“

He waved the half-eaten granola bar to your face, tellingly. Thumbed over the fine-print stating ‘peanuts included.’

You blanch. Blink.

“Oh.”

Allergies. Right-O.

“Yeah,” he chews slowly, moving back so his back is against the headboard, “Oh.”

You settled, after a quiet, but not uncomfortable pause.

“Since you’re here, I wanted to apolo—“

“Splendid day we’re having, isn’t it?” He turned to you. “Want to go on a walk and eat something besides that which you are direly allergic to?”

Or stay home. What, with an offer like that?

“Please.”

—

It’s an awful shame, you think as you both step past the stone statues and into the path led by aged, looming sycamores and dolorous baby blue jays, that this pandemic hit right as things were coming alive again.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” you voice, as Harry stops by the tree under which you’d kissed for the first time, fingers tracing the rough patterns of the branches before you both came to rest with backs against the trunk. “Life for us seems to have stopped. We stay home. Don’t come back to college for God knows how long, but things are still happening. Life exists outside of the virus. Babies are still being born, tragedy still strikes. It feels wrong, but right at the same time.”

“A little early to be pensieve,” Harry notes, but you can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s teasing. You know he knows what you mean. He always does. Used to.

“Days spent banished to a chamber with poisonous granola bars as the only ration will do that,” you counter, and he steps up, giving you a hand. You take it. Somewhere along the way, you let it go, and narrow your eyes at his blank look.

“Last one to your dorm is a rotten loser,” you exclaim, feet working quickly to get you up those stairwells, with him hot on your heels.

Ten minutes later, you’re both sprawled on his bed, the sun peeking through the curtains and miscellaneous snacks scattered about as you feast.

At some point, mid-chew with a Wagon Wheel stuffed in your mouth rather ravishingly, you find yourself glancing curiously at him.

“Why’re you doing this?”

It hadn’t exactly ended prettily. He shrugs.

“In case the apocalypse keeps us apart forever.”

And you stay.

Because, if a pandemic cancels the remainder of your spring semester, and your recent ex decides to suspend the rules of your breakup in case “the apocalypse” keeps you apart forever, and you find yourself lying once again in his bed, your faces flushed, the afternoon humming by outside, take your time with leaving. The future will charge onward, but for now you can allow the memory of other lazy days you spent in this bed to envelop you entirely. You would like to believe this feeling transcends whatever comes next. For an hour or two, it does.

Masterlist

#was sitting in the back of my mind #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagines

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