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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year

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She’s The Housekeeper Prt9: Bond

Yor Briar/ Forger x She/ Her Reader

A/N: Prt8 Alright, here is the last part for the foreseeable future. The first chapter of this story is still my most popular post to date, and it’s so cool to see 800+ notes on something I’ve written. If you managed to stick with me for this long, thank you for your time and support💜! Word Count: ~5,800

Anya ate her breakfast with an extra vigor that morning because today would be the day Loid would take her to the pet shop to find a cute little dog to take home! She inhaled her food so fast, she nearly choked.

“Hey, careful!” (Y/n) cautioned as she pushed Anya’s glass of water closer to her for the little girl to gulp down, “I know you’re excited, but let’s try to avoid having to go to the hospital instead.”

“The dogs aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. You can take your time.” Loid reminded.

“I’m just as excited to look around as you are Miss Anya!” Yor beamed as she put down the burnt omurice she had made, “but please do be careful.”

Anya downed the water and though she was still eating rather quickly, she was pacing herself better than she had a few moments ago.

“Anya is ready to go now!” She declared, sliding off of her chair to fetch her coat.

“Anya, we’re still eating.” Loid called after her, but Anya kept moving, pulling her coat from the rack. Loid sat back in his chair, letting Anya wait by the door. “Are you joining us, (Y/n)? It shouldn’t take terribly long.”

“I wouldn’t mind tagging along.” (Y/n) decided. Maybe she could influence the decision made of what dog they got. Something that was already house trained would be ideal. One that rarely shedded would also be preferable.

“This is going to be so much fun.” Yor hummed, between bite of crispy rice and egg. She offered (Y/n) a bite, and of course (Y/n) had to take it.

“Definitely an improvement over the last one, well done my dear.” (Y/n) praised before downing her water in just a few gulps.

The food really was one of Yor’s better attempts. It was still vile, but (Y/n) didn’t feel like she was in danger of throwing up. (Y/n) wasn’t absolutely insane like Yor’s dear brother Yuri, if Yor’s food made her feel ill, she would simply excuse herself to the bathroom to take care of it, not smile and try to clear the plate faster than she could vomit. (Y/n) shuddered at the memory. The Briar siblings were not normal.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!” Anya chanted from the hallway. She simply couldn’t wait any longer, they were wasting precious daylight!

“Let us do the dishes at least, then we will go, Anya. Be patient.” Loid began gathering plates while (Y/n) and Yor went to the sink to wash and dry.

Anya felt like she could explode from the anticipation, but finally all three adults had put away the dishes and put on their coats and they were heading out the door.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!” She barked again, swinging Yor’s hand in hers. “Papa,” she asked, turning back to look at Loid, “Do doggies like peanuts?”

“You probably shouldn’t give them too many. It might not be good for them.” He replied, making Anya pout.

“That leaves more peanuts for you, Miss Anya.” (Y/n) provided helpfully, making her smile again.

“Oh, is this the shop right there?” Yor asked.

“That’s it.” Loid confirmed, going ahead of them to open the door for everyone.

Inside were the most fucked up looking dogs that (Y/n) had ever seen. Anya looked severely unsettled and (Y/n) couldn’t say she blamed her.

“Is… is that one flexing?” She asked Yor in a concerned whisper.

“What do you think, Anya?” Loid smiled, “Do you like any of these dogs?”

“No.” Anya wasted no time saying.

“R-really?” Loid’s eye twitched.

“Are you really surprised, Loid? I mean, look at them.” (Y/n) shuddered.

She did have a point… Guess they would have to go to the shelter event instead. A person caught his eye from the back room, flashing him a signal. Now really wasn’t a good time, but if Handler was calling, it must be important.

“Augh!” Loid cried out, clutching his stomach.

“Loid? What’s wrong?” (Y/n) asked, startled by the outburst.

“I, I need to use the restroom! You all can go, I’ll meet you at the shelter.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? We can wait.” Yor offered.

“Papa takes a long time when he goes to the shitter to shit, so we should probably go.” Anya bluntly explained.

“I see…” Yor blushed.

“Eugh, Miss Anya, we didn’t need to know that.” (Y/n) shivered in disgust, “Also, watch your language.”

“Yes, watch your mouth young lady.” Loid echoed before running off to deal with his… ‘problem’.

“Well, guess we should get going then.” (Y/n) decided.

“Yes!” Anya skipped to the door with (Y/n) and Yor following close behind.

Before long, the sidewalks became more congested and the unmistakable sounds of animals flooded the air.

“So this is the adoption event. Wow, it’s even bigger than I imagined!” Yor gushed.

“Yeah, it seems like Loid should’ve brought us here first.” (Y/n) observed.

Puppies, kittens and bunnies! They seemed to have every furry household pet under the sun! Anya ran haphazardly to look into every crate and enclosure she could find.

“Don’t run around Miss Anya, you’ll get lost!” Yor warned.

“Promise us you won’t leave this area with the dogs, okay?” (Y/n) asked.

“Okay…” Anya deflated a bit, but that was fine, there were so many cute doggies to look at and she would get to take one of them home!

The trio walked up to an enclosure together and Yor squeaked with excitement, grabbing (Y/n) by the arm and shaking her around.

“Look at that dachshund’s cute little legs!” She cooed, making (Y/n) smile.

Anya was overwhelmed by all the cuteness. She couldn’t possibly choose just one. They were all so sweet! Standing by the window, something large and white caught her eye, and she turned to see it more clearly, feeling a possible connection with whatever that may be.

(Y/n) and Yor were going over their top picks when one of the ladies working the event approached them offering assistance. (Y/n) and Yor took up the conversation, distracting them from Anya’s sudden disappearance.

“Are there any breeds that are easier to clean up after?” (Y/n) asked.

“Poodles rarely shed, so cleaning up after them is a breeze.” The friendly lady shared.

“You don’t say.” (Y/n) perked up, making Yor smile.

“Or there are smaller breeds, Shih Tzus are very friendly.”

While (Y/n) and Yor were engrossed with the woman’s abundant information, they failed to notice Anya slink outside to follow the shady man and the big white dog she had seen through the window. By the time they had stopped talking with the woman and thanked her for her suggestions, Anya appeared to be long gone. (Y/n) looked up to find her in the crowd, but could not see her anywhere within the dog section and her heart began to rise to her throat.

“Yor,” (Y/n) alerted, grabbing her partner’s arm, anxiety already slipping into her tone, “Do you know where Anya is?”

Yor snapped to attention, scanning all around, a familiar sense of dread pooling in her stomach. She did not like the trend that seemed to be forming every time she let Anya out of her sight or reach for but a few minutes every time they went out in public.

“I- I don’t—“ Yor swallowed thickly, her feet traveled on autopilot, “Miss Anya? Where did you go?!” She called out, a static buzzing growing steadily between her ears.

“I’ll look for her in the kitten section!” (Y/n) yelled after her before running off in a different direction, but she was not heard.

Between the two of them, they must have asked everyone in the event hall if they had seen the little girl, each growing more and more desperate with every shake of a head they received.

Upon getting her latest negative sighting, Yor felt unshed tears burning the corners of her eyes. This was the aquarium all over again, but worse! She turned, expecting to see (Y/n) there, ready to give her a hug and to let her know everything would be alright, but of course she wasn’t there.

Yor had already been so tense and her brain had been so focused on looking for Anya, she had somehow lost her dear (Y/n) along the way! Now she began to really freak out, completely overwhelmed by the crowded venue and the noise pitching around and within her.

Something in her that was already tense, snapped and she jumped up, kicked off of a nearby pillar, and expertly braced herself on the ceiling so she could search from above. Her breathing uneven, she drowned out the noise of the crowd below. She didn’t see Anya. Anya wasn’t there, not even a trace, and that terrified her.

What if she had been eaten by a dog?! No, Yor managed to stop that train of thought. That was unlikely. Someone would surely have noticed something like that. But what if she had been kidnapped again like when they had gone to the aquarium, or when they had gone grocery shopping! What if (Y/n) had been taken too!

An awful image of her beloved and her adopted daughter being carted away by despicable men to be married off to even more vile and cruel men consumed her vision, but then she found a small light, a familiar splash of color, she saw (Y/n) in one of the far corners of the venue, a strange man looming over her.

Without another second of delay, she skillfully swung from the pipes above and dove between them from the ceiling, startling the man enough to make him yelp. Yor prepared to uppercut him into the sun next, to see what kind of sound that would make, but instead (Y/n)’s hand quickly shot out to grasp her bicep and pull her back. Confused, Yor allowed her.

“Where the hell did you come from lady?” The man blinked, bug-eyed, mouth agape.

“She’s the mother. As you can see, she’s worried sick. If you see her little girl, please do not hesitate to let us know.” (Y/n) beseeched, pulling Yor back a bit more to try to knock her out of whatever murder-y thoughts were fogging up her mind.

“Yeah… of course.” The man gave them a weird look then began walking briskly away.

(Y/n) turned to hold both of Yor’s biceps, pressing her thumbs into the fabric of her coat’s sleeves to try to put pressure on the tense muscles beneath.

“Hey, try to breathe, okay? What’s the matter? Besides the obvious.” She cooed.

Yor sobbed, slamming her head hard against (Y/n)’s chest, making a deep thunk sound that rattled (Y/n)’s insides.

“Oof!” (Y/n) winced, but held Yor all the same, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“I- I can’t find Miss Anya! A-and I thought you had gotten taken too!”

“Honey,” (Y/n) murmured, giving a, ‘mind your own business’ smile to anyone who dared curiously look their way, “I told you I would look for Anya over here. You must not have heard me.”

“I guess not.” She sniffed.

“I’m okay. Now take some deep breaths. It’s clear that Anya isn’t in here, we need to go find her, but we can’t be snapping the neck of anyone whose just going about their day.”

Yor made a pitiful sound, but cut herself off halfway through, almost knocking heads with (Y/n) from how quickly she brought her head up.

“What…!” (Y/n) began to ask, but she heard it then too, that sounded like Anya outside!

And she was outside! They could see her through the window! She was barreling down the street… on top of a big, fluffy white dog.

Yor took (Y/n)’s hand and began sprinting in the direction the dog had ran off in. It was a brutal pace, one that (Y/n) couldn’t keep up with and when she tried to communicate to Yor that she would catch up. Yor was having none of it and scooped (Y/n) up into her arms, making quite the spectacle as they zoomed around the people walking by. It hardly mattered to Yor. She wasn’t going to risk losing (Y/n) for real by leaving her behind.

“Down that alley!” (Y/n) pointed.

“Right!”

(Y/n) braced herself, this was the side of her career that she was not trained for, but when they saw a strange man reaching for Anya in the alley, she still let Yor take her by the arms and spin her at a dizzying pace before finally being launched towards Anya.

(Y/n) sailed over the shocked kidnapper’s head, took hold of Anya’s hands, and catapulted her into the air. While Anya was airborne, (Y/n) sprung off of her hands when she hit the ground and flipped into an upright standing position just in time to catch Anya and see Yor smash her foot into the kidnapper’s face.

Yor fell into place beside (Y/n) so that Anya was between them, protected on either side. Anya couldn’t have looked more relieved to see them, looking between them with visible awe and joy.

“You won’t get away with this, Mr. Perverted Kidnapper,” Yor spoke in a measured tone, glaring at the remaining man who had his jaw hanging open, “It is much too early for Miss Anya to get married!”

“Married?” (Y/n) cocked her head to the side. Just what kind of scenarios was Yor imagining?

The gravity of the situation seemed to catch up to Anya then, because she began to cry, grasping onto the coats of both women she wailed,

“Mama! I was so scared!”

“Don’t worry, you’re all right now.” Yor comforted.

“We’ve got you.” (Y/n) assured, wiping Anya’s tears.

Kieth clenched his teeth. Which one was the mother? Ah, it didn’t matter. They’d all have to die if he was going to succeed in his plans.

“Dog! Rip their throats out!” He commanded.

The German Shepherd beside him began to approach, snarling, but then Yor gave one of her most terrifying expressions to date and growled right back with startling ferocity. The dog whimpered pathetically and turned tail, running out of the alley as fast as he could.

“Coward!” Kieth yelled after him.

“Bwah! Mama, I’m scared!” Anya bawled, hiding her face in (Y/n)’s coat, keeping Yor out of her sight.

“Hm? But you’re safe now?” Yor frowned, perhaps not realizing just how frightening her face had been jus a moment before.

“Don’t worry Anya, if that man thinks he can take you from us he has another thing coming!” (Y/n) promised, her mind filled with thoughts of fire and acid.

Yeah, Anya was glad to have those two on her side because they were honestly terrifying.

Voices began to be heard near the mouth of the alley and Keith cursed. All that noise had alerted people from the street, and now they were coming to investigate!

“Come on, come on you stupid mutt!” He hissed at the remaining dog, the big and fluffy white one. He tugged and tugged at the dog’s leash, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Damn worthless beast!” He kicked the dog in anger and fled the scene empty handed.

“He’s getting away!” Yor groaned, but she stood firmly at (Y/n)’s side. There was already one kidnapper she needed to properly detain and she didn’t want to leave (Y/n) and Anya for even a second.

Just how long is Loid going to stay in the bathroom? She mourned internally. His stomach was probably revolting from the breakfast she had made!

“Mr. Dog are you okay?” Anya asked, running up the the dog once (Y/n) put her down.

“Ah, careful Miss Anya! You shouldn’t run up to dogs you don’t know.” (Y/n) warned, trying to stop Anya from going any further.

“Mr. Doggie is no stranger. He saved Anya.” Anya put her hands over her heart, looking over to the dog with gratitude.

“Where did this dog come from, Miss Anya?” Yor asked.

Anya took a deep breath, that question required a very big answer.

“Terrorist bomb dogs?!” Yor blanched.

(Y/n) got on her knees and thoroughly searched the fluffy dog for bombs. Thankfully, there weren’t any. She sighed in relief and gave Yor a shaky thumbs up.

“Anya is sorry for running off without permission…” Anya mumbled, grabbing the hem of her coat between her fingers while she kept her eyes firmly on the ground.

“We’re just glad that you are safe.” (Y/n) knelt to the ground to hug Anya.

“We were so worried about you.” Yor chimed, following her partner to the ground.

“But expect a stern talking to when we get home.” (Y/n) warned.

Anya pouted, but nodded in acceptance and the three, plus the dog, walked out of the alley, tied up kidnapper dragging behind Yor.

They called the police on a nearby public phone to explain the situation, during which Anya suddenly grew restless, shaking the dog.

“Anya don’t be rough with the doggie.” Yor scolded lightly before her attention was brought back to the receptionist on the phone.

“Mama, Mama, sorry, Anya just remembered something. Papa forgot to take toilet paper with him to the potty!” The little girl yelled out of the blue.

“Huh?”

“What?”

(Y/n) and Yor stared on, frozen, as Anya leapt onto the dog’s back and urged him into a run.

“He might be in trouble so I have to go get some from home!”

“Anya, wait!” Yor called, reaching out the hand that wasn’t currently cradling the receiver.

“She’s running off again!” (Y/n) yelled in disbelief, finally sprinting after the blob of pink and white as they rounded the corner.

“W-wait! What about the police?” Yor called after her.

“We told them all we could! Just hang up and leave that guy there, he won’t wake up anytime soon! Let’s go before we lose Anya again!”

“Ah, okay!” Yor rose the receiver back to her ear, “I’m leaving the kidnapper by this phone booth! I have to go now, bye!” She hung up the phone and caught up with (Y/n) before she rounded the corner.

They searched every block, every street within half a mile. (Y/n) finally came to a stop, resting heavily on the guardrail of the bridge they had been speed-walking across.

“Darling, are you alright?” Yor’s voice was laced with worry. She could tell that (Y/n) was breathing quite hard.

“I’ll be okay, I just need a minute.” She wheezed. God, cardio sucks.

While (Y/n) tried not to keel over on the bridge, Yor paced back and forth. The only trace that she had been running at all was the light layer of sweat on her rosy face.

“What if she gets found by the terrorists again? I can’t let that happen!” Yor fretted.

“Maybe she went back to the pet shelter?” (Y/n) suggested between breaths. “At the very least, maybe Loid is finally there?”

Before Yor could speak, a loud honk of a horn and a sharp squeal of tires interrupted her. The scent of burnt rubber permeated the air. Looking down from the bridge, the women saw a car speeding recklessly down the road.

The light caught the windshield just right, allowing Yor to see an unwelcomingly familiar face. The other man who tried to kidnap Anya!

“Him again? How dare he try to take Miss Anya and run away! You won’t get away this time!” She declared, then jumped off of the bridge.

“Yor!” (Y/n) yelled. She tried to reach out for her, but she was too slow. Her hands snapped right to her eyes. Covering them from whatever was about to happen. “Pleasebeokaypleasebeokaypleasebeokay—“

An awful crashing noise reverberated within (Y/n)’s ears and she cautiously lifted her face from her hands. Below, she could see that Yor looked unscathed, thank the stars, but the car looked as if it had been t-boned before crashing into a lamppost.

(Y/n) hobbled down the hill to meet Yor on the street and flung her arms around her, a gesture that was always eagerly returned.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nope!” Yor smiled, “Kicking the car did make my leg feel a little tingly though.”

“My indestructible tank, I love you.” (Y/n) sighed, looking back at the crushed car. “We’ll have to call the police… again.”

They quickly relayed the location of the car and hung up before the responder could ask any follow-up questions. Then they were off to continue their search for Anya.

It was near sunset when they saw Loid walking down the sidewalk towards them. They opened their mouths in a rush to tell him that Anya had run off on a dog, but said girl and dog appeared from the alley between them and they instead slumped over each other in relief.

“What are you three doing here?” Loid asked, “I’m surprised to find you so far from the shelter.”

“Anya was coming to give papa toilet paper.”

“Ah.”

“She ran off on us. Twice.” (Y/n) informed, resting most of her weight against Yor. Now that Anya was with them once more, the exhaustion of running around all day was really starting to get to her.

“Did she now…” Loid looked down at Anya disapprovingly, finally truly noticing the dog beside her. “And who is the dog?

“That is actually quite the story.” Yor rubbed at her cheek with a sheepish smile and retold the events of the day. (Y/n) would occasionally chime in, but ultimately she was too tired to try to censor anything Yor was saying. Somewhere in her brain she knew they probably shouldn’t talking about taking down terrorists without much trouble, but again she was too tired to care.

“I’m sorry all that happened while I was in the bathroom.” Loid finally said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

“Yeah, you were gone all day. Have you considered seeing a doctor, because that is not at all normal.” (Y/n) spoke in a teasing tone, but there was a notable hint of concern in the way her eyebrows scrunched together.

“It was probably because of what I made for breakfast.” Yor bemoaned.

“It has to be something else. The rest of us survived.”

Loid, wanting to put his day long trip to the ‘bathroom’ behind him, began to address Anya and her penchant for running off.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not run off on your own. You could have been seriously hurt!” He yelled, making Anya flinch.

“Anya is sorry!” She sniffled, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Loid immediately softened, falling to one knee before her, “I’m sorry for yelling. I was just worried. You aren’t hurt at all though, right?”

Anya shook her head, putting a hand on the fluffy dog beside her. The fur nearly swallowed up her hand.

“Mr. Dog protected me.”

Loid smiled at the dog, petting him gently, “Thank you.”

“Excuse us,”

The family turned to see a woman and a man in suits approaching them from across the street,

“We’re investigating an incident near City Center. We understand that this was one of the dogs involved in the incident.” The woman said. “Please hand him over to us. He’ll be in good hands.”

“Of course. Thank you.” Loid tipped his hat, motioning them towards the dog.

“Now we can go back to looking for a puppy!” Yor beamed excitedly.

“Is the shelter even still open?” (Y/n) almost hoped it wasn’t. She wanted to shower and then spend the next several days in bed. She was already dreading how sore she was going to be tomorrow.

“Come on, Anya. Let’s go take a look.” Loid reached for her hand, but Anya pulled away.

“No! Anya wants Mr. Dog!” She said, stepping between the officers and the dog.

Loid shook his head. “He was owned by bad guys.”

“He saved Anya!” The esper refuted.

“You said you wanted a small dog.” Loid crossed his arms, peering down at his fickle adopted daughter.

“But Anya wants Mr. Dog now, it’s okay that he is big!” Anya continued to argue, hugging the dog close.

“Anya please,” Loid pinched the bridge of his nose, “Stop being so difficult.”

“If papa doesn’t let me have Mr. Dog, Anya will go bad and stop going to school!” Anya’s lip wobbled and then she began to cry.

“Wh— what are you saying?!” Loid sputtered.

“It’s okay, Miss Anya! Please don’t cry!” Yor beseeched.

“There are a lot of nice dogs in the world! I’m sure you’ll find another who is just as sweet…” (Y/n) attempted to console, but she knew that trying to get Anya to change her mind would be impossible at this point. She did just spend the whole day with this dog after all.

“Very well.” The woman conceded, leaving Loid particularly surprised.

“What?!”

The woman chuckled, then couched in front of Anya, a bittersweet smile on her lips.

“The dog itself didn’t cause any harm. If you promise to take good care of him, he’s yours, but we will need to keep him for the night to check his health first.” She explained softly.

“Are you protecting the other doggies too?”

“They are sleeping in the softest of beds and eating warm, yummy food.” She nodded.

“Thank you very much, important lady.”

The woman’s smile tugged a little further, “You’re welcome.” She stood back to her full height, turning to Loid. “We shall make contact with you tomorrow.“

“Thank you. Sorry for the trouble.” Loid bowed his head.

“No trouble at all. Have a good night.”

And so they began their trek home. Anya and Yor were particularly pleased with themselves because of the parts they played in saving the city from terrorists. (Y/n) and Loid on the other hand were exhausted.

“Why do you look like that?” (Y/n) had asked him pointedly. “I know it isn’t easy being… ill, all day, but I’ve been running around the city for hours and I still look better than you.”

“Do you really want to know?” Loid asked with a wry smile, his eye twitching in aggravation. If only they knew what he had really been up to all day!

“No.” (Y/n) shook her head quickly, “No, I really don’t want to know. Forget I said anything.”

After a night of the deepest sleep that any of them had ever experienced, morning soon came, and with it, a large and fluffy white dog.

“So curious!” Yor giggled, watching the dog sniff around the living room.

“Anya wants to stay home to play with Mr. dog today.” Anya said hugging the dog tightly.

“I believe the deal was that you wouldn’t stop going to school if you got this dog.” Loid said after spitting his toothpaste in the sink. “Get ready for school.”

“Does Anya at least get a Stella for helping stop the bad guys?” She asked. That would help put her in a better mood about going to school.

“I’m afraid not, Anya. No one is supposed to know about what was going to happen because it would just cause fear and panic. You have to keep it to yourself or the police might need to come and take you away.”

“Shock!” Anya flinched. She couldn’t let that happen, but it certainly was a disappointment that she couldn’t tell anyone.

“Loid!” (Y/n) gasped from the other room, “Don’t phrase it like that, you’ll scare her!”

Loid rolled his eyes at his reflection in the mirror and Anya began getting ready to go to school, pouting all the while.

“Have a good day at school Miss Anya!” Yor waved. “(Y/n) and I will take good care of Mr. Doggie while you’re away.”

“I’ll do my best.” (Y/n) called from the couch. Even raising her hand to wave goodbye to Anya hurt. Her whole body felt stiff and sore from the whole ordeal yesterday while it appeared to be just another normal day for Yor.

Anya and Loid said their goodbyes and then it was just (Y/n), Yor and the curious new addition to the family.

“Yor, darling, would you make me some ice packs.” (Y/n) groaned while she moved to lay flat on the couch.

“Of course! My poor, sore heart!” Yor cooed. She cupped (Y/n)’s cheek and leaned down to kiss her forehead before heading to the kitchen.

While (Y/n) waited for Yor’s return, the dog took notice of her and began to lumber up to her.

“Hello, getting used to your new home?” (Y/n) asked him.

The dog sniffed her hand, then slowly hoisted himself up onto his hind legs by placing his front paws on the edge of the couch.

“Ah, wait. No, don’t come up here— dog! No! Down! Oof!”

(Y/n) couldn’t stop the dog from laying flat across her sore body. It was a warm, and an almost comforting weight, but in the state (Y/n) was in currently, she didn’t find it entirely enjoyable, but it was kind of cute.

“Honey, did you say something…?” Yor walked back into the room, her arms filled with industrial bags of ice that she got from who-knows-where. Her eyes fell on the dog and she pouted, “That was going to be my spot, Mr. Doggie.”

“Yor, help me get him off. He’s too heavy.”

Yor did as she was asked, dragging the dog back to the floor.

“I apologize, Mr. Doggie, but (Y/n) is sore from running around yesterday. Surely you understand.” Yor then promptly dropped the giant bags of ice onto (Y/n)’s body.

“Not quite what I had in mind, but thah, thank you.” (Y/n) shivered.

The dog was undeterred by the upheaval and soon climbed his way back onto the couch, sinking between the bags of ice.

“My, perhaps he is sore too!” Yor observed. “Poor thing.”

(Y/n) sighed. She couldn’t find it within herself to make Yor push the dog away a second time. Perhaps she should feel special because the dog seemed to like her already, but her body was not appreciative of the extra pressure at this time.

“Would it help for me to massage your calves?” Yor asked thoughtfully. “Mr. Dog isn’t covering those up.”

(Y/n) mulled it over. Typically, a massage from Yor would be nice as long as she didn’t push too hard.

“I think that sounds nice, just be gentle please.”

“I will, I promise!”

And she really was. Yor did a great job, so wonderful in fact, that the combination of the frigid melting ice, the warm, weighted blanket of a dog, and the soothing massage knocked (Y/n) right out.

She was rudely awakened hours later when the dog clumsily leapt off of her to jump into Anya’s arms when she got home from school.

“Welcome home!” Yor smiled, clasping her hands to rest them against her cheek, “Oh my, such good friends already! He must have missed you!”

“Save me! He’s eating me!” Anya gasped while the dog slobbered all over her.

“He seems to have a lot of pent up energy. We should take him for a walk.” Loid suggested. He looked over to (Y/n) laid limply across the couch and smirked, “Care to join us, (Y/n)?”

“Not today.” (Y/n) deadpanned, ever so slowly lifting herself into a sitting position. “You all go on ahead. I’ll start getting dinner ready.”

“Are you sure? I could stay an help.” Yor volunteered.

“I’ll be fine,” (Y/n) assured, “Go have fun at the dog park.”

(Y/n) shuffled through the kitchen like an old woman, slowly preparing dinner. Though she could be prideful at times, she was actually surprised that she had dinner mostly completed before the Forger’s returned home.

“I hope they haven’t ran into anymore trouble.” She murmured to herself as she finished setting the table. She walked to the armchair this time around when she finished her self imposed task. She hissed through clenched teeth as she lowered herself into the plush chair.

She then decided she would never run again, maybe never even walk. She didn’t care if it would look strange, she was going to have Yor carry her everywhere from now on and if she knew anything about her love, she would be happy to do it too.

Finally, the front door opened and the Forger’s piled inside.

Anya ran up to (Y/n) all excited, “Mama, I know what to name Mr. Dog!”

“Do you? What is it?” (Y/n) thought Mr. Dog was the name already, but she was curious to hear what else Anya had come up with.

“Wait just a minute!” Anya asked.

She bounced excitedly when Loid came back from the short trip to his room, a black ribbon of fabric in hand. He deftly tied the fabric around the dog’s neck and once he stepped away, (Y/n) saw he had looped it into a bow tie.

“Behold!” Anya flung her arms out in the direction of the dog happily thumping his tail against the floor. “Bond!”

“Oh, like Bondman.” Loid understood. “That should work just fine.”

“Boof!” Bond leapt at Anya, sending her to the floor in a flurry of licks and wiggly wags that made Anya laugh.

“He seems to like it.” (Y/n) smiled fondly.

“They’re so cute!” Yor cooed.

“Come, Bond! Let me show you around the hideout!”

“Anya, it’s dinner time. And don’t forget you need to study. afterwards.” Loid warned.

“Anya will study later, promise.”

Loid’s eye twitched, but he relented.

After dinner, Anya fed Bond. She filled his bowl to the brim and watched him begin to chow down.

“Try not to give him too much.” Loid cautioned as he walked by, a towel under his arm. “I’m going to take my bath now, but I expect you to be studying by the time I’m done.”

Anya pouted and Loid walked to the bathroom. Curious, Anya took a kibble from Bond’s bowl and nearly popped it into her mouth before (Y/n) called out her name.

“Miss Anya, please don’t eat anything meant for a dog.” (Y/n) shivered in disgust as she scrubbed the dishes nearby.

“I know it must look tempting, but take it from me, it is not as good as it looks.” Yor helpfully added.

“I don’t want to know if that is coming from a place of experience or not.” (Y/n) said, but the shy laugh Yor gave was damning.

Soon after he finished his meal, Bond began to wiggle uncomfortably and Anya took notice.

“Need to go potty? Here, I’ll show you where to go.” Anya led him to a wide tub lined with newspaper. “When nobody can take you outside, you go in here. If you go anywhere else, mama will get mad cause she like things tidy.”

After business was taken care of, Anya and Bond played all over the apartment. (Y/n) wanted to remind Anya about her studies, but she couldn’t bear to break up the fun. It was Bond’s first day home, and Anya hardly got to see him before she had to go to school. A little more playtime couldn’t hurt.

(Y/n) and Yor watched them play, losing track of time. And when Loid returned from his bath, they showed him the cute little girl and her dog curled up together and fast asleep.

The studying could wait until tomorrow, Loid supposed.

#spy family x reader #spy x family x reader #yor briar x reader #yor forger x reader #yor x reader

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factorialsotherfandoms · 5 months

Text

(prompt from @cubitodragon - Chayanne cooking for the new eggs for the first time Picked this one because its utterly adorable)

An egg cracks over a frying pan, the yolk spilling onto the metal. No sooner is it there than the patter of tiny feet dashing across the floor can be heard, pausing onto to jump up to the door of the fridge and tug it open. A great many pots bubble and boil away, and the oven fan whirs, and the tiny feet patter back to the counter, and up onto a stool, and hands just as little as the feet pick up a whisk and begin to beat a mixture together.

There's a giggle from the side of the room, suppressed but still audible as the chef's father laughs into his hand.

"Do you need any help, Chayanne?"

The little cook pauses, carefully setting down the mixing bowl and checking on the stove before bonking down a sign.

'No,' the first one reads. Another is quickly placed atop asking 'how long until they arrive?'

"The party starts in fifteen minutes, but knowing Toby it'll be at least half an hour before him and Sunny are there. We can be a little late if you need more time."

Chayanne pauses, looking hard at the oven. After a few seconds he bounces up and down, scrambling back to his pots and pans and bowls.

"Are you /sure/ you don't need help, king?"

A sword is thrust in his dad's direction. He laughs again, with an "okay, okay, I'll leave you be", and that's the end of those questions.

He still stays, watching. Chayanne remains in the kitchen, built just for him, running back and forth and balancing things everywhere. Eggs are fried and pancakes are flipped, the cupcakes in the oven are pulled out and have lemon drizzle poured over them, and the rice is kept warm even as the little chef adds the flavouring.

Soon enough everything is packed up into neat, insulated boxes. With his father's help Chayanne carries them out to the party garden, where parents and eggs alike run around. Pepito hides under the table, Em doing her very best to lure Pepito out. Radio Egg stand on the stage, the trio already playing music under the watchful eye of Forever, while Dapper sneaks around placing pranks. Ramon is helping him by distracting the other parents, showing off a new creation of their own.

Sunny and Tubbo are, of course, running late.

Chayanne starts plating up the food for everyone, while his dad makes his way to the bell. On Chayanne's command he rings it, with a call of "oi everyone, grub's up!"

The garden shifts from music to the thunderous patter of fifteen tiny feet, all running for the table. Chayanne, already in place, wriggles as he gets himself comfortable.

Just as the group are settling down and starting to help themselves, Tubbo and Sunny arrive - by train, of course. They both hop down and come over, Sunny examining the food carefully before selecting any.

Everyone tucks in, and Chayanne watches their reactions carefully. Seeing Pepito, Sunny, and Em perk up he also does, some of the anxiety lifted as he eats his own food. The meal is surrounded by the chatter of parents and the bonks of signs being placed where ever they will fit.

Chayanne has made many options of dishes, desperate to satisfy everyone - and seems to have succeeded. He looks to his dad, and earns a grin for it.

"Good job, Chayanne," his dad whispers to him.

Chayanne's feet wriggle happily at the praise, even as Richarlyson decides to throw a honeycake and start the possibly inevitable food fight.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp chayanne #qsmp eggs #qsmp philza #I cannot for the life of me remember if Phil uses 'grub'#or if he's from the right regions to #but it feels the right level of slang so he can have it #funnily enough apparently in america it means shitty food #while here it means like... proper hearty meals sort of thing #its fifteen feet as richarlyson is using a fancy running blade prosthetic as they're going to play tag later and he wants to win #might fo out for a walk so ao3 will be a bit maybe in the morning but it'll get there

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

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Share 10 facts about your OC and their pairing

Thank you Kass! You are a saint to this community ❤️ These 10 facts are coming at you live from Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Ronnie Bradshaw. Slapping a read more on this bad boy cause it got out of hand. I just love them so much.

Ronnie and Jake met while he was going through the TOPGUN program (in my head that's four years before the plot of the movie...I realize that's inaccurate to how it all actually works but it's my universe now boys)

Their relationship four years ago started as a one-night stand, but then neither of them could get enough of each other. They decided not to be anything serious, like acquaintances with benefits - mostly because Jake found out she was Rooster's sister and he knew if Rooster found out he would be a dead man.

Jake shows affection with physical touch (he also has this inherent NEED to let everyone know that Ronnie is his girl. And the best way to do that? Have his hand on or near her butt at all times). But the way he likes to be SHOWN love is through acts of service. He likes to be taken care of, okay?

Ronnie generally shows affection through gift giving though. She just loves buying him random things at the store that made her think of him. Whether it be a candy or a shirt or a weird little figurine. But being SHOWN affection...probably a good mix of quality time and words of affirmation. She needs a lot of reassurance when it comes to close relationships.

Jake is very organized. He likes his spaces clean and he likes to know where everything is. Ronnie literally makes him want to throw up because she is a chaotic mess but he loves her anyway.

One time, at the bar during their previous relationship, a night when Rooster obviously wasn't there. A guy came on to Ronnie really hard. And this shouldn't have bothered Jake, right? They were just having a casual fling, right? WRONG He stepped in and got the guy to leave her alone and they had a HOT make-out sesh in the backroom.

Neither of them really cook. Jake looks like the kinda guy who just cooks like a shit ton of rice and chicken for himself to last like an entire week and he is content with that. And Ronnie...Ronnie can't cook AT ALL and orders take out literally every day. This will have to be rectified in the future if they want to survive....

Jake had a high school sweetheart that he thought he was gonna marry. They were homecoming king and queen and all. But then she couldn't handle the long-distance him being in the Navy brought on and she dumped him. Hard. Over the phone. He's been with many girls since but all of them he's kept at an arm's length or kept super casual cause for a long time he couldn't handle getting his heart broken like that again. (UNTIL HE MET RONNIE BABEY)

Ronnie, on the other hand, has been in a handful of relationships. Each of them long and each of them the breakups were super messy. Like fighting over who gets to keep the cat messy. She always tells herself she won't fall so hard so fast next time...But she's also always been a hopeless romantic. Jake was actually the first casual relationship she was ever in.

Jake and Ronnie....Love each other so much it's kinda insane. They're pretty opposite sometimes, but are also so similar and just think the world of one another.

top gun taglist: @oneirataxia-girl @arrthurpendragon @pasta88love @theforevermorereject @sqrlgrl22 @townley-29 @alittlelostalittlefound @fenderenderender @chaoticassidy @capswife @marrianena @luckyladycreator2 @fulla02 @fangirlofallthings22 @dempy @imagineyneyjr @blue-aconite @commxnderwolffe @darkestbeforethedawn16 @sopheeg @mizzy-pop @loveforaugust @hope-love-equality2

#annie answers #oc asks #oc: ronnie bradshaw #fic: come over here and overwhelm me #fd: top gun #jake seresin x ronnie bradshaw

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thenarryparable · 1 year

Text

trust part 3 : yuimon (yuichi kimura x lemon/elliott) & tangybug (tangerine/thomas x ladybug/nanao)

please be kind <3

"Get this...i just saw Lemon holding what seems to be a little kid. Probably 6 or something. You know anything about that?" Ladybug asked.

Taken by how Tangerine's expression to one that had a hint of anger Ladybug obviously knew he for sure knew something was up. "What's that kids name?" he asked.

'Wataru. Stayed up all night trying to figure out that little kids name, just do give him a gift or something so obviously I would know' Tangerine wrote, shoving the note in Ladybugs face.

"Oh! I see. Obviously, the kid liked it." Ladybug said, smiling. 'Fucking great' Tangerine wrote.

"Hey don't be so salty about a kid getting a gift and not you. You know you should-" Ladybug got cut off by Tangerine throwing the notepad in Ladybugs face.

~Time Skip to a couple days later~

Lemon and Yuichi have been talking more and more as the days go by, along with Tangerine and Ladybug starting to get along.

A ton of apologies were said, and some were forgiven, despite Tangerine refusing to accept them at first. There were a few fights as well, mostly between Lemon and Ladybug when he saw him there with his brother, not because he was scared he would hurt him again but for sneaking in out of all things.

But with all this going on, Yuichi hasn't gotten a chance to go over his feelings. The feelings of guilt but also of love starting to develop. The more he let Lemon come around the more he saw how truly kind the man was, all it kept reminding him of was his wife.

Which was a lot for Yuichi, he thought he would have moved on enough to stop associating her with others he (was starting to) loved but he couldn't help it.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Lemon walked over to him, snapping his fingers. "Oi! Kimura! You okay mate?" Lemon asked, looking concerned. Yuichi nodded, "Okay" he said.

"Great. Now come on, we gotta get some breakfast before the fuckin' station closes. Heres ya jacket." Lemon said as he helped Wataru out of bed and pick him up. "You excited kid?" he asked him, tickling Wataru's stomach.

Wataru nodded happily. "That's my boy! Let's fuckin' go get some fuckin' food!" Lemon ran out the door with a laughing Wataru in his arms. Yuichi walked slowly out, why that was the cutest thing he had seen all damn week.

He then looked down the haul and smiled at Lemon holding little Wataru up in the air and pretending he was a superhero. "Come on Kimura! We gotta catch 'im before he flies off!" Lemon shouted.

Yuichi caught up to them and Lemon set down Wataru as they took an elevator down to the cafeteria.

"Ya smell that kiddo?" Lemon asked Wataru. Wataru nods. "Hopefully they got somethin' we all fuckin' like or Lemon over 'ere is gonna go get some cake instead for us ta share" Lemon said as they walked into the cafe.

Lemon grabbed a plate for little Wataru first and talked him through everything, putting rice and whatever else Wataru liked on his plate. "Ya kiddo and me are gonna need a fuckin' longgg nap after this slowpoke," Lemon said to Yuichi, as he grabbed a plate for himself and grabbed some chopsticks for Wataru and himself.

Yuichi smiled at Lemon. "Ya gonna get anythin'?" Lemon asked. Yuichi shook his head, "No. Only for Wataru and you." he kind of whispered out. "Ya need ta eat breakfast. Come 'ere" Lemon said as he made Yuichi get a bowl. "Oi. 'ere." Lemon then gave Yuichi some rice and poured soup on top of it.

"That should hold ya up. Ya need it." Lemon said patting Yuichi's shoulder a bit. Yuichi just looked down and nodded. He didn't really care about eating much anymore. All he cared about was his son, not himself. Why should he anyway?

"Kimura! Man, ya gotta stop zonein' out all the time. Come on, luv." Lemon said grabbing Yuichi and paying for everyone's breakfast. Yuichi tried to pay instead but Lemon refused to let him.

They all sat down at a table, little Wataru started eating some veggies and rice while Lemon and Yuichi looked at each other for a second. "Ya doin' okay?" Lemon asked. Yuichi just sighed and nodded. "Ight" Lemon said before eating his breakfast.

Yuichi sat there and looked at his bowl. He didn't even take a single bite, he just stared. Mindlessly.

Lemon picked some veggies off of his plate and put them on a plate and slid them over to Yuichi. Yuichi looked at them, they kind of reminded him of what he would eat as a kid, they didn't really have much but they did have vegetables.

He picked up his chopsticks and took a bite, they kind of tasted like home but could never be sadly, its hospital food, of course, it's not. Lemon looked over at him and smiled, it wasn't much really but hey Yuichi was taking care of himself. Not that Lemon really cared about 'self-care' but, maybe this is a start to seeing this scruff of a man actually happy for once.

Maybe.

(btw this version was edited to not trigger anyone so if it's different a tiny bit on ao3 then YEAH.)

#bullet train #yuimon #yuichi kimura #lemon #tangerine #ladybug #YEAHHHHH #tangerine writes

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crimsonkenjii-writes · 3 years

Note

heyy it's the giyuu simp hiding in your request box ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ mind if i sneak in another request :> just gonna slide this with a belated valentines day card

may i request a giyuu x reader headcanons? where its just giyuu and the reader living a peacefull and happy life with their kids, just fluff of how their every day life goes and giyuu with his kids :D maybe even some headcanons of the other pillars meeting the kids and his s/o (feel free to change the idea ofcc i don't mind if you write it at all (~^.^)~)

Hello fellow Giyuu simp lolol

This sounds really cute! Of course I’ll write it! ʕ◡ᴥ◡ʔ♡

This turned out to be very long haha hope you don’t mind :)

Giyuu x Fem!Reader with Kids!! ♡

AU: Life Without Demons

♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡

Giyuu was the first to ask for kids. It was a shock since you’d figure he’d be too nervous and insecure to think he’d be able to be a father. But he loves you too much to not have children with you. He just can’t picture his life without you and both of your guys’ children in his future.

“Y/N...” he approaches you timidly, “I have um something to ask you...” he kept fidgeting with his hands and struggled making eye contact. His cheeks starting to burn. “What is it, Giyuu??” He sat there a bit, his brows knitted together as if he’d trying to figure out how to compile his sentence. “Let’s have children!” He finally bursts out boldly. You were taken back for a second but smiled wide and hugged him, agreeing with all of your heart.

Giyuu didn’t want too many kids. He only wanted about two children. (Maybe three children he’s thinking on it 👀) And that’s what you both had. One boy and one girl. The boy took more of your looks but also had a good mix of Giyuu as well. He ended up taking his eyes and messy hair but had your hair color and overall facial features. The girl was a very good mix between the two of you. The boy was the eldest child.

Giyuu was the type of parent to spoil his children a lot. You often had to stop him because it got hard for him to say no to them a lot of the times. But when it came down to it, he knew when to be strict and stand his ground. Like if one of your children throws a tantrum for not getting the toy they want, Giyuu would have a stern tak with them about how they need to learn the importance of being told “no” and to handle it like a “big boy/girl”

Giyuu would also do whatever it takes to help you with anything around the house or with the kids. He’d also do anything to spend as much time with his children as possible.

Giyuu also secretly loved it when his kids would get nightmares and ask to sleep with the both of you. He really loved sleeping next to his family and would often invite the kids into the futon even if they didn’t have a nightmare that night. They’d always get really excited and join without hesitation. He also LOVES holding their hands. He loves how tiny and soft they are in his large, calloused ones. He also really loved having them ride on his shoulders

When it came down to being the good cop bad cop, you both had an equal share between it. I can see Giyuu being pretty strict but not to the point where it’s suffocating. He’d still take extra precautions to make sure his kids are safe and don’t get into trouble. He also tries to come to complete understandings with his children when they’re in disagreements with him. He’d sit and talk with them and make sure they don’t feel invalidated or hurt. Sometimes though, he’ll have to put his foot down and tell his children to listen to them and not question his thinking. He’ll often try to come back to them later and explain again.

Kamboko Squad and Pillars’ Reactions to First Born (and general interactions with kids)

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

When the news got out to everyone that you both were expecting children, they were all so very excited.

You were a few weeks pregnant and Tanjirou (and the rest of the squad) came by to visit and he was able to smell it off you. You were a little shocked how he was able to notice until he explained how his mom smelled a certain way when pregnant with his siblings. Then it made a bit more sense. Kind of.

Poor little boy teared up because of how happy he was for the both of you. He was so happy to see Giyuu with the love of his life and now starting a family. Inosuke got all those fluffy things around his head. He was very soft and gentle around you and it was really cute. Sometimes he’d just stare at your bloated stomach and it seemed like he was having a psychic conversation with the baby lolol.

Nezuko was very excited to meet the new baby and couldn’t wait nine months! Zenitsu was really happy for the both of you and it really warmed his heart to hear the baby’s heartbeat. He also got very scared for you because he heard that giving birth if very painful and he’d never want to go through something like that either.

They all saw your kids as their own little siblings, especially Tanjirou. Tanjirou is very good with kids so they ended up liking Tanjirou a lot and would often beg you to let him visit more often so they could play with him. Nezuko also saw them and her own siblings and would always volunteer to knit/fix their haoris if they ever got damaged. She always brought snacks (usually toasted rice crackers) for the kids when she visited. She also helped with cooking dinner when she visited.

Zenitsu loved playing with them. Until one day your son found a worm and showed it to Zenitsu and he freaked out and thought it was a snake for a second. He started to become more wary of your son from then on.

Inosuke shared his boar mask with them and would let them ride on his back as he ran around. He also visited one day with a nicely wrapped box (wrapped by Tanjirou) and gifted it to your kids. You and Giyuu were very confused to see that it only had acorns in there.

You had Shinobu do regular check ups with you to make sure the pregnancy was going well. Despite her constant teasing, she actually told Giyuu how happy she was for him. This really warmed his heart and he couldn’t thank Shinobu enough for all her help. She helped with both the pregnancies/deliveries

Mitsuri was so so SO excited to meet the new babies!! She seemed more excited than you and Giyuu! She loves babies and thinks they’re really cute. And the fact that it’s going to be yours and Giyuu’s baby??? Geez, that just makes it 10x more adorable!! She really really wanted to be the first friend to hold the baby so you granted her wish. She was crying so much, she was so happy.

The baby’s cheeks became very red from how much Mitsuri pinched them. She nicknamed him her “Little Mochi” because of his squishy cheeks. (and she nicknamed your girl her “Little Sakura”)

Obanai kept trying to deny how happy and excited he was. “Hmph! I don’t do babies. Not at all.” But then he saw its cute, little chubby cheeks and couldn’t resist. He then vowed to be the greatest uncle to your baby boy (and girl once she visited the world)

Kyojuro was really excited to meet the baby too. His booming voice scared the baby and made him cry so Kyo learned to be more quiet around him. He was so nervous holding the baby but then got more use to it and didn’t want to hand him back. He wanted to hold on to the little boy forever!!

Muichiro was mostly dazed out but waved his finger in front of him and your little baby boy held onto him. Muichiro got very happy. “Y/N, Y/N! Look! He’s- he’s holding on to me!!” You’ve never seen him smile so wide. He’d often visit and be like, “Can I play with him today? I’ve missed him.” And he’d play with him for hours! He was the same with your little girl as well once she came around.

Sanemi kept trying to act all tough. “No! I don’t care about kids! Least of all babies! I couldn’t care less about Tomioka’s stupid ba-“ his eyes widened when he saw the baby. Then you saw the most softest smile on his face for the first time. He hugged the baby tight to him and didn’t let go or move for a while. He might or might not have teared up. But you swore with him that you saw nothing 👀 He’d make plenty of ohagi for the kids and make some extra for you and Giyuu. Giyuu was very happy to see Sanemi opening up a bit more and glad he became better friends with him as well.

“Tch, don’t get too comfortable, Tomioka. I’m only here for my niece, nephew and Y/N.” He was teasing he loved Giyuu too.

Tengen and his wives were all over the baby! His wives loved the baby so so so much!! They even planned out a baby shower for you when they heard the news so a lot of your baby stuff came from them! Once he finally joined the world, all of them teared up from joy. They all took turns holding the baby, playing with him, bouncing him on their laps. Tengen said that if you or Giyuu ever needed help, him and his wives were right there anytime.

The wives loved playing with your daughter! They’d often do her hair and make it really pretty. They’d also often spoil her with new pretty kimonos and hairpins and always said, “Once she gets older, we’ll always have girls nights out! Do all kind of girl talks and girl things! It’ll be so much fun!!”

Tengen got the baby a whole bunch of shiny jewelry and was like, “Ha! Now your baby boy shall be flamboyant! Even more flamboyant than he was before!!” He also secretly found it extremely adorable how he looked like a little baby Giyuu at first. Then he grew to have more of your facial features and it just made it even cuter for Tengen. He had a little soft spot for your daughter because he thought having a daughter would be very precious so he’d literally do anything for her (and would protect her with his life)

Gyomei was SO happy!!! He of course teared up too and was very very gentle with him. It was kind of cute seeing such a large man hold such a tiny little human. It’s like he could fit them each in one palm. He was one of your go to nanny’s and he’d always wear a pink apron when looking over the kids. He’d spoil them with lots of baked sweets. Everytime he visited, he always had a new beaded necklace to gift them. They ended getting too many and he stopped at one point. But he still gave them one on their birthdays

Shinobu found babies/kids a bit icky since they do have many bodily fluids they can’t control and sometimes don’t wash their hands but she still did normal check ups with them and was very good with them. She’d often visit with some new toys for the kids. She even got your daughter and little butterfly clip. Your son felt left out so she got him one too. For a while both your kids refered to her as the “Butterfly Lollipop Lady” since she gave them lollipops after every doctor visit. She’d just smile chillingly at Giyuu and say, “Tomioka-San, I figured you’d at least teach them my name after all I’ve done for you and your wife.” She was just teasing, she secretly loved her nickname

Shinobu also really loved listening to the baby’s heartbeat through a stethoscope. She also loved putting her hand on your belly and often talked to the baby. She’ll never admit to anyone else but she really enjoyed doing these things with both your pregnancies

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 125: Accidental Bonding (Part One)

When Harry woke up, his head was pounding and his heart was racing, he thought he might vomit. He staggered over to the floo to firecall in to work.

Robards answered, "Junior Auror Potter, good morning."

"Hello, sir," he said before his stomach heaved and he had to turn away and take a few deep breaths to steady himself. "I need to call in sick, sir. I think I've got a virus."

"What are your symptoms?" he asked curiously.

"Really bad headache, it feels like my eyes are going to pop out of my head; elevated pulse; and nausea."

His brow furrowed, "Who was your training partner yesterday?"

"Malfoy, sir," he said, his gut twisting uncomfortably.

"Where did you go?"

"Excuse me-" he broke off and held up a hand, turning away from the fireplace to try to get his bearings as his stomach tried to eject itself through his esophagus. After a moment he turned back, "We were sent to that old antique shop, sir," he said as quickly as he could manage.

"You're going to need to go to St. Mungo's."

"I don't-"

"That's not a request, Potter. Go there now and I'll be sending Junior Auror Malfoy right along."

"But-" Harry started.

"No buts, Malfoy called in with the same symptoms and I'm not taking any chances," and without another word he ended their connection.

With a sigh and one more longing look at his bed, Harry headed to St. Mungos.

(Read more below the cut)

They ended up putting Malfoy in the same room as him since they were there at the Ministry's behest and with the same symptoms. Harry tried not to look at him, imagining that getting irritated would only worsen his ever growing headache. Malfoy must have felt the same because he was less annoying that usual.

Healer Kenner, a stern looking woman who reminded Harry very much of Professor McGonagall, ran diagnostic test after diagnostic test and then finally said, "Well, you're bonded."

"What?" Harry yelped.

Malfoy groaned, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Language, Auror Malfoy," she tsked.

"Apologies."

With a short nod, she continued, "The good news is that most of your discomfort can be alleviate by simple physical contact."

"And the bad news?" Harry asked wryly.

"There's nothing we can do to break the bond."

"What?" Malfoy spat.

"Surely, there's something-" Harry started.

She shook her head, "I'm afraid not. But it's not permanent," Healer Kenner added. "It'll only last a month."

"A month?!" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well it's certainly better than forever," Malfoy snarked, rubbing his hands over his face.

Harry wondered if Malfoy's head hurt as much as his did. He certainly hoped so.

But before he could say anything, Healer Kenner raised her wand and cast a spell the dragged their beds across the floor to the other. "Hold hands," she instructed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and Malfoy let out a pitiful groan.

"The sooner you do it, the sooner you'll start to feel better," she chided. "Just be glad that this particular bond only wants prolonged physical contact."

Harry shuddered, he'd heard the stories about some of the more archaic bonds.

"Oh, for Circe's sake," Malfoy grumbled as he reached across the space between them and clasped Harry's forearm in his hand.

A sense of relief hit immediately, Harry groaned as a weight lifted off his chest and the headache started receding.

"It will be faster if you both actively participate."

At this point, as the waves of relief were rolling through him, Harry was willing to do anything. He flipped over his hand, offering it to Malfoy.

The other man slid his hand down Harry's arm, as though he was afraid to break contact with him, and clasped Harry's hand in his.

She was right, his world seemed to right itself as they sat there holding hands and he let his head drop back against the bed as he took full, deep breaths for what felt like the first time in ages.

"How long do we have before it starts to feel like that again?" Malfoy asked, which Harry could admit was a good question.

She hummed, "I'd say two hours maximum before the discomfort starts affecting the way you function." After a short pause, Healer Kenner added, "You're going to probably want to spend nights together."

"Can't we just see each other in the morning?" Malfoy asked.

And Harry couldn't help but agree, "This wasn't that bad," he added. "And now that we know-"

She shook her head, "Now that your bodies are acknowledging the bond, the effects will set in quicker."

"Great," Harry grumbled. "Just bloody fantastic."

This day just kept going from bad to worse. He had no idea how he was going to tell everyone that he had an accidental bonding with Draco sodding Malfoy.

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

They argued about whose house to stay in overnight and finally decided to flip a coin for it. Draco won.

And that was how Harry found himself standing with a duffel bag outside of a surprisingly cute little house, knocking and waiting to be let in.

"Potter," Malfoy greeted as he opened the door to let him in.

And Harry wondered if he was feeling the bond tugging at his skin, too, if the bond was making his gut clench and making him feel irritable and like there was something crawling under his skin. "Can I-?" he started through gritted teeth, reaching a hand toward Malfoy but stopping a few inches away.

Malfoy nodded and closed the distance between them.

The moment he touched the other man his body sagged with relief, swaying back against the doorway.

After a moment, Malfoy released his hand and gestured toward the rest of his house, "Come in," he said. "It's nothing fancy," Malfoy said, "But it's home and it's not something that my family owned."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that statement, so he just focused on looking around the house as Malfoy gave him the tour. Malfoy was right, it wasn't anything fancy but it was surprisingly cozy. It was nothing like Harry had expected; he'd imagined black leather and green decor, dark and broody. But the house was the opposite, the closest anything got to Slytherin green was the sea form green accents in the bathroom. "You have a nice house," Harry said.

"You needn't sound surprised," Malfoy said with a sniff, "I have excellent taste," he added as he opened the door to the bedroom.

The bedroom had pale blue walls and cream bedding, the dresser and wardrobe were both a dark wood that Harry couldn't identify. All in all, it was a nice room, very relaxing.

"You can use this drawer," Malfoy said, flicking his wand at the second drawer to open it, "And I cleared a space for you in the closet."

"Err, thanks," Harry said.

He rolled his eyes, "Don't mention it. I know it's hard for you to believe but I can actually be considerate when the mood strikes."

Before Harry could reply, Malfoy left the room, calling over his shoulder, "I'm making salmon and rice for dinner. If you don't like it you can make something for yourself."

This wasn't quite what he'd expected, Malfoy wasn't quite what he expected, he thought as he put his clothes away. Maybe Malfoy wasn't who Harry thought he was.

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

Nope. Malfoy was precisely who Harry thought he was. The two of them had spent the entire night arguing about literally everything: about using coasters (when they were wizards and removing water stains was no big deal), about which clothes Harry should have hung or left folded, about the proper way to do the dishes, about their friends and the kind of people they were, and dozens of other things that made Harry want to tear his hair out.

They were still bickering when they went to bed because Malfoy had the nerve to critique the way Harry brushed his teeth and to demand that Harry wash his face before he get into bed.

"I'm not letting the oil in your skin damage my pillowcases!"

"My skin doesn't damage pillowcases," Harry snapped. "I have pillowcases too, you know, and none of them have oil stains."

"Potter wash your fucking face or I am covering your pillow with a paper bag," Malfoy threatened. "It's not a fucking hard request. It will take you literally two minutes."

"Fine!" Harry shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the bathroom.

When he came out, Malfoy was already on the left side of the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard, reading a book. "Was that so hard?" he drawled.

"Oh fuck off," Harry grumbled as took off his glasses and he threw himself down on the right side of the bed, punching a pillow for the sheer pleasure of punching something.

"You're such a bloody neanderthal," Malfoy grumbled without looking up at Harry.

"Shut up!" Harry finally erupted. "For Merlin's sake just shut up and I will, too."

Malfoy glanced over at him, looking unperturbed which honestly made Harry even more frustrated.

"It's going to take me ages to fall asleep because I'm so fucking irritated."

After a moment, Malfoy reached over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's the bond," he said quietly. "We're not touching often enough and it's making us lash out."

"I don't think we need any help in that department," Harry grumbled but he could admit that he was feeling better already.

Malfoy chuckled, "You're right about that, I suppose."

He shook his head and reached up to cover Malfoy's hand with his own and expedite the process. "This does help though," he said with a yawn.

The other man hummed, "I think we should agree now that whenever either of us wakes up over night that we'll reach out and touch the other so we can get as much sleep as possible."

Through a yawn Harry murmured, "Sounds reasonable." He closed his eyes, surprised at how tired he was feeling all of the sudden. "Merlin, I'm knackered."

"Do you mind if I leave the light on to read for a while?" Malfoy asked.

He opened one eye to look at Malfoy's blurry face, "That's nice of you to ask," he said. "I don't mind."

"Are you certain?"

He nodded. "Night."

"Good night," Malfoy replied, going back to his book but leaving his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry drifted off, asleep in minutes.

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

When Harry woke up again, the sun was peaking in through the curtains and he felt fantastic. He blinked open his eyes and realized that at some point during the night he and Malfoy had shifted, drifting until Harry's front was pressed tight against Malfoy's back, his body curled around the other man's.

He really ought to move.

But he was just so comfortable and his body was warm and loose and he just couldn't bring himself to move away.

It wasn't long before Malfoy started to shift, waking up slowly and Harry panicked. He did the only thing that he could think of and feigned sleep.

Malfoy arched and stretched, pressing his body back against Harry's for a long, delicious moment before he jumped, seeming to realize what he was doing. Then he held very still like he was waiting for something and Harry wondered if he was waiting for him to say something. When Harry didn't move and continued pretending to sleep Malfoy carefully withdrew himself and climbed out of bed to head to the loo.

Harry laid there for a long moment, missing the warmth of the other man's body, missing the way they'd seemed to fit together already.

Just the bond, he assured himself. This was all just the bond.

Right?

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

Ahhh friends, I'm sorry. I hate to leave you like this but this one's going to need a part two. This girl is exhausted and this fic(let) is taking way longer than anticipated to write. I'll get part two written and posted tomorrow. <3 Lots of love, C

Part 2

Day 124: Joke | Day 126: Arranged Marriage

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #Accidental Bonding Part 1 #sorry friends #I'll get the second part up tomorrow #drarry #aurors #auror harry #auror draco malfoy #enemies to friends #friends to lovers #check back for part 2 tomorrow

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todomochi-uwu · 3 years

Text

Of Unspoken Troubles & New Threats (2.5/3)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader

Warnings: Angst, and pls don’t kill me

Author’s Notes: Some of yall are going to be real pissed off and I can feel it in the back of my mind, but I didn’t want to cut it out, I wanted to build up the tension to the maximum! Don’t worry, tomorrow the next and FINALE part will be published, for now enjoy this. (I had already published this, but it wasn’t showing in the tags, and I’m about to cry)

“Take it, not so much of a threat, but as a warning.”

Previous parts: First Second

Since the very first second Ushijima had noticed the sudden raising friendship between you and the Nekoma captain lots of ill-mannered thoughts had started forming in the back of his head. Like, what would happen if he were to spike right into Kuroo’s head when he turned around? Or would it affect much his opponent’s game if he were to, I don’t know, break every single one of his fingers? Fumes seemed to come out of his ears, his spikes were harder than ever, his voice became even lower and the pressure he was putting on his team was becoming a little too excessive.

“What the fuck is up with Ushijima?” Semi said, hand on his knees, barely being able to breathe.

Reon sat on the floor, trying to stabilize himself, “That’s what I want to know, what has got him like this? None of these teams is a threat to us.”

Tendou let out a giggle while throwing his head back in exhaustion, “It appears manager-chan has stroked a nerve in our dear miracle boy.”

“What do you mean?” Shirabu said while trying to crack his spine without causing even more damage.

“Look over there.” The red-haired man pointed to the other side of the gym, where you sat analyzing some of the game plans and notes you had made, while Kuroo sat next to you, chin resting on top of your head, casually caressing your back.

Goshiki furrowed his eyebrows, “What is Nekoma’s captain doing with our manager?”

“I didn’t know they were that close.” Tendou said, “But this new ship seems to be stressing the fuck out of our captain, the poor boy doesn’t know how to react to jealousy, I don’t think he has ever experienced it before, at least not to this extent.”

“Wait! Ushijima san likes Y/N-chan?” Goshiki looked wildered, expressing himself louder than he should.

“Shh, man keep it low! We don’t want lover boy hearing us!” Shirabu smacked the back of the next inline ace.

“So, what’s the plan? Are we going to help them out? Like get them together or something?”

“Nope.” Tendou simply said.

Everyone looked at him confused, did he not want Ushijima to go back to normal? “Don’t get me wrong, all this training is killing me, but I think our ace needs to learn how to take care of his significant other, to know Y/N has a limit no matter how much they love him.”

Goshiki eyes widened in shock, “Wait, wait, wait so they are already…” The harsh smack of a ball made them all turn around, Ushijima was there looking directly at them, the stern look in his face said everything.

“God fucking dammit, I hope all of this is worth it,” Semi said under his breath, everyone agreeing with him in his mind.

Things hadn’t gotten any better, every hour Ushijima only seemed to be getting worse, more laps, more blocks, more sets, it wasn’t until the sound of a whistle was heard all across the room that the entire team sighed in relief.

“Hey, boys! Good job today, I think we have improved, I don’t have any commentaries other than to tell you to please enjoy your meal and rest well, you guys deserve it.” You smiled with sympathy, by the looks in their faces they were about to pass out. Oh Ushijima, what in the hell are you doing? You thought.

As they started scattering around and leaving the gym you noticed that Ushijima was not going with them, “Do you need anything, Ushijima-san?”

“Are we meeting outside at midnight?” He said.

Your eyes lighted up for a second, butterflies flying in your stomach, but the reality was quick to hit you and bring you back to earth, “I don’t have any notes for you to revise, the boys did well today, nothing left for me to say, so no.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I’m not talking about that.”

“Then why would we meet later? There’s nothing for us to discuss.” You grabbed your things, making sure not to leave anything behind.

“Y/N…” He attempted to stop you.

“Ushijima-san, I highly suggest you going to the cafeteria, you need to recover, they are serving rice and curry today.” You gave him a slight smile.

“Y/N…” He tried again, but this time, someone else entered the scene, interrupting him, “Chibi-chan…” His tone was melodic.

“Kuroo-san.” You greeted him.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were busy.” He said, in faux innocence. “I can come back if you want.”

“No, I was just telling Ushijima we were done with today’s work.” You said rushing out the door, no looking back.

Kuroo could only follow you.

The night was restless, Ushijima kept turning and squirming, anxiety was now invading his dreams, trembles ran down his body, his breathing was agitated and his heart running down miles per hour, his thoughts could not be appeased and he didn’t know what to do. The idea of you leaving him would not abandon his mind; seeing you with another man, laughing, smiling, had taken a toll on him; and to top it all you had rejected him. His mouth was dry and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, maybe a quick trip to the bathroom would help him calm down.

As quiet as possible, he opened the door, hoping to control his anxiety, only to be met with something that only made him even more nervous. You and Kuroo. In front of the manager’s room, talking quietly but so closely, the sole scene made him want to gag. He stared at you for a couple of minutes before Kuroo finally left you to go inside, and made his way down the hall, to meet with Ushijima.

“Hey Ushiwaka, didn’t see you there, it’s kind of late, go to sleep you must be tired.” The smirk on Kuroo’s face was like a slap in the face to the other captain.

“That manager of yours sure is a hard worker.” Kuroo said, staring directly into the ace’s eyes, “Must be nice to have her, it would be such… a shame if someone were to steal her away, right?” Kuroo said, his tone was dangerous, his words dripped in venom.

Ushijima could only glare at him, no words came out of his mouth.

“Take it, not so much of a threat, but as a warning.” With that, Kuroo left.

The same thing was repeating the next day, no matter how sore Ushijima’s muscles felt, he wasn’t planning on stopping. His head wouldn’t stop repeating last night’s scene. You and Kuroo. Kuroo and you. Late night. Close. Together. It was getting under his skin and he didn´t know how to deal with it, not when you were distancing yourself from him.

“Ushijima I think you should talk to her, this isn’t healthy.” Tendou knows he kind of deserves it, but he couldn’t help but worry for him.

Ushijima didn´t know what to say, “I tried, she rejected me.”

“Make an effort, follow her around just like she always does, you can´t expect her to forgive you if you don´t even try.” Tendou nudged him, trying to cheer him.

Ushijima sighed, conflicted, he knew he had done you wrong, but he wasn’t aware of how bad he had fucked up until now. He was sorry, there was no doubt, but he didn’t know how to express it.

“Gather round boys!” You called out for the team, “For today’s schedule you will be going against, mmm let me check… Oh, Nekoma.” And to this, the entire team had tensed up, even more, fuck, this was going to be a very bad idea.

Nekoma approached, gathering up and stretching out before the “friendly” match, checking out the system they were going to follow throughout the game. Kuroo jogged to your side.

“Should I expect your captain to go all out?” He said.

“Please tell them to be careful, Ushijima is so tense, just as the rest of the boys, so be careful.”

“You sound like you think I’m not capable of blocking out his spikes.” He teased.

“Kuroo.” You warned him.

“I know, I know.” He cracked the back of his head, “Okay, let the match begin.”

Tags: @samanthaa-leanne @missalienqueen @anime-weeb-bnha @minnieminnie00-got7 @ama-suhen @iiwah @saeranoppa @4ambagelbites @sunaswife @puma-d-a @lionhearteddame @ix-elastix @dudejuststop @pruemania @salty4tsukki @wonderblogger @animexholic @kenmascateyes @aralynxo @decaffeinatedcheesecakemiracle @tsibba01 @softkookyy @nnessworls @xxitsaeonxx @hallothankmas @sinex @shinhiromi @killuaking @icedberrytea @foreverdebbie @nati-08 @amoursa @lilolpotatobig @bigtitmisfit @itzgabz22 @holographicwriter @aonenthusiast @flmshneverbreaks @yeolliedokai @cyber3lf @lyrxbz @nikkiandherrandomshits @josieveli @ryk-iok @lueurdeespoir @vee-77 @keiwaii

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blackwoolncrown · 4 years

Link

”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.

But enough is enough.

The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.

American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”

>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<

WHY AM I WRITING THIS

As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.

I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.

One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?

No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.

See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.

Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.

If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.

We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.

I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.

In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.

And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.

None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.

This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

BASTARD 101

I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.

Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.

I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.

To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:

“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”

Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.

When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.

Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.

One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.

This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”

I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.

Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

HOW TO BE A BASTARD

I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.

Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.

Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.

Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.

Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.

Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.

Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.

Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.

Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.

Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.

Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.

Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.

Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.

Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.

Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.

Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.

A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.

A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.

A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.

If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.

Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.

Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.

I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.

Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:

not

fucking

talk

cops.

Ever.

Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.

During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.

The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.

It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.

And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?

To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.

Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:

Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.

Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.

More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.

Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.

Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:

No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.

No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.

Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.

Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.

Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.

One final idea: consider abolishing the police.

I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.

I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.

What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.

You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.

This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?

Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?

Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.

Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.

Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:

“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”

(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)

I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:

When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?

And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.

Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?

If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH

Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics

Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?

CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit

Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?

Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]

#acab

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

Combining tropes:

punk sugarbaby!Billy and soft sugardaddy!Steve.

This was inspired by @ mikeyyyyyyy_ ‘s ig story (pictured under the cut). He’s Mikey Henger on tiktok. We’ve all seen his divine Billy cosplays 🖤

• • • • • • •

Billy got a new tattoo. He’s no stranger to the needle gun by any means, but he’s wanted hand and neck tattoos for a long time. He finally gave himself the former today.

He abstains from the latter for Steve. Because Steve loves Billy’s throat. He thinks Billy’s skin is beautiful and the guy likes necks, apparently. Billy prided himself on his ass - and, well....everything else - but whatever floats Steve’s boat.

Billy calls him a vamp.

Steve calls him, baby.

So he gets his tattoo, sitting tranquilly in the chair as the artist does her work. Afterwards, blue eyes appraise the latest addition to his collection. Billy already knows everyone is going to assume it’s a crow or a raven. That doesn’t matter.

He sends a picture to Steve. The reply doesn’t take long:

Want a manicure to go with it?

Billy’s typing as a second message comes through:

What food do you want?

Billy knows where this is going. Steve has his own nail technician who makes house calls. He never gets anything beyond cuticle care, but today Billy felt rejuvenated.

Only if we match. Greek rice plates.

He gets some black hearts sent back to him because Steve’s a romantic and Billy now has a black phoenix flying in his skin.

Steve was...a learning curve. But then again, so was Billy in the beginning. Steve had to let Billy fly, and Billy had to get used to Steve providing a perch for him to land.

A soft bed to land in. A fridge that never emptied. New boots made of loyal leather instead of plastic, and poly gel nails if Billy wanted them.

He didn’t give Billy a job, though. Billy did that on his own. Hair stylist by day, drummer and dj by night, and Billy liked his work. His clients were like him: pissed at the world but knew how to tip, and music had long since become his outlet.

Then he went home to Steve. Both he and the nail technician were waiting; one moving their food out of boxes and onto plates, and the other just finishing up her station for Billy’s hands after he washed them. Steve kissed Billy in the privacy of their kitchen and then cradled the tattooed hand in both of his. “Do you love it?”

“ ‘Course I do. I wouldn’t have it otherwise.”

“I’ve heard hand tattoos swell up a lot. I’ll get an ice pack ready.”

Billy knew there wasn’t much point in telling him no. Steve, still in his work slacks with his pressed shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, who cared and cared and cared. He cared so damn much.

As Billy sat at the dining table and nail technician began her work, Steve followed in and said, “Whatever he gets, I’ll sit right after him.”

Billy juggled relinquishing his hands, eating, and resting his hand on the ice pack. Soon his nails gleamed with clean, black gel paint.

“Scoot. My turn,” Steve declared almost excitedly. Billy snorted quietly and took the rest of his food to the couch as Steve began his manicure.

Paid and tipped, the technician went on her way and Billy chuckled at Steve marveling at his black nails. “Are your colleagues going to think you’re unprofessional?”

“Only if they want to be misogynistic pricks. You can tell who’s sleeping with their secretaries because those women have new nails every week.”

Steve fell onto the couch in such a way that one of his legs draped between Billy’s. He took Billy’s wrist and set the hand on a throw pillow. “You’re gonna fight people off like gnats, the next time they see the sex magnet on the drum set.”

Billy’s other hand squeezed Steve’s knee. “I was thinking of using the electric set to practice tonight.”

Steve didn’t tell him no. Just, “Will your hand be okay?”

Because Steve didn’t have any tattoos. He didn’t think less of them, but he saw them as open wounds every time Billy got another.

“So long as I keep the Second Skin on, yeah.”

Steve insisted on the ice pack until whatever episode finished on the television and Billy went into his music room. Since Steve’s - their - place was technically a condo in the city, Billy got a much more accommodating electric drum set.

Then he played until he sweat. Sweated right through the Second Skin over his tattoo and realized at some point, Steve had dropped off an iced lemonade. Billy drained the glass on his way to the shower. Black globs and flecks rushed down the drain -

As Steve stepped through the door behind him. “Want an extra pair of hands?”

Billy hummed. “Love some.”

After the initial wash, Billy kept his hand out of the water. Steve washed his hair, knowing very well how Billy liked his scalp touched. And as white suds moved down the drain, wet lips touched Billy’s neck, making him hum again.

“Have you decided on something here, yet?”

“Not yet.”

“I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“I’m not asking permission. It goes against my nature.”

Steve laughed breathily. “I know. Except for that one thing.”

Billy cocked a brow and looked back at him. “One thing?”

Steve’s eyes rolled. “Yeah, the one thing. Kind of a big deal. At least, I like to think I’m a big deal.”

“You trying to tell me something, Stevie?” Billy crooned, reaching between them for Steve’s half-erect member.

“C-Careful, your ring’s on.”

“ ‘Course it’s on. It’s always on. Never taking it off. It’s in my skin as good as you are.”

Steve’s eyes went hooded and dark, peeking up through his lashes like he was shy. Billy’s hand left his erection to slide along Steve’s neck. His gold band shined through the dark tresses. The same way Steve’s did.

Matching hands.

Almost.

Maybe Billy could convince him to get a black feather somewhere.

#harringrove #punk!billy #soft!steve #sugardaddy!steve #sugarbaby!billy #ficlet #modern au

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najatheangel · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬

pairing: liu yangyang x reader

now playing: foreign by trey songz

genre: very spicy and comedy.

requested by: @bigbrainenergytingz ❤️ (sorry boo this one is a little longer than I imagined, but I hope you enjoyed! )

summary: badboy!yangyang crushing on the new female foreign exchange student!reader. Slowly she starts to turn him on and he demands to see her in the library to give her a piece of his mind and body.

“Class here’s our new exchange student from the Dominican Republic! She’s staying here for the 6-month program and she’s a junior. Everyone please be nice and give a big welcome to y/fn. y/ln”

You slowly walk in adjusting your boarding school uniform you received in the dorm today. The skirt was uncomfortably tight and it revealed your legs so it made your walk slightly awkward, but the class didn’t seem to care since they were already staring at you admiring how lovely you looked especially the guy in the leather jacket sitting in the very back, yangyang.

“A pleasure to meet your class, I’ll promise to work hard and do my best.” Your English accent shocked everyone and made all the girls hype you up. All the guys fell in love with you even more, but of course, you had your eye on one man only the rebel, playboy, mastermind, and leader of the Wayv Biker Club Liu Yangyang.

“Bro she’s looking dead at you. I think she wants you, man.” Lucas nudges and ruffles yanyang’s hair as you walk right in front of him and sit at the desk right in front of him. Yangyang leans back and whispers back at Lucas saying “You think so huh? I’ve never done it with a foreign exchange student before. Let’s see what she’s all about.” He gives Lucas a quick fist bump and proceeds to give his attention back to you.

The whole class time, he kept his eyes on you, biting his lip thinking how he’s going to make his first move. As his fellow friend, Mark would always say “You got to seize the opportunity.” And just that he was fired up waiting for the perfect opportunity.

As soon as the bell rang, he ran up to principal Tate begging if he could shadow you around the school just so he could find a way to get closer to you.

Principal Tate rolled her eyes as she ignored to young man pouting at his suggestion. “Listen Yangyang, the last few times I let you shadow a new female student it becomes the talk of the town that you bang them, and then I have to talk to their parents about it over and over again.”

He blocks the door preventing her from getting inside the office. He whines again “Please, she’s different! I will seriously not get her in trouble this time. Can I at least show her the bottom floor of the school and I’ll let you live?”

The principal rolls her eyes one last time and writes a demerit slip as a warning in case yangyang doesn’t follow through with his task. “Fine, only show her the cafeteria, gym, and library, but that’s it. If you take any longer than an hour, then you are in big trouble. Got it?” Yangyang gives her a soft grin thanking her. “No need to worry principal Tate you have my word, see you tomorrow for my after-school detention.”

She shakes her head as he runs after you to your locker screaming your name like an excited school girl. “Ugh, how does his mother deal with him all day every day.”

…

He leans against your locker as he notices you grabbing your packed homemade lunch. “Hey I don't know if you forgot about me, but let me introduce myself. My name is Yangyang and I’m your shadow for the 2nd half of the day.”

You looked at him clutching your lunch box nervously, but at the same time smiling interested in spending your time with him. "Well might as well, you've been staring at me all day in class. Show me around."

Yangyang clears his throat responding back by saying "Uh, was I? My bad love, it's a bad habit. You can follow me Miss Y/Ln. Yangyang walks downstairs with you offering to hold your backpack showing you the cafeteria. The cafeteria of course had served the best expensive meals for students that prefer not to cook in their dorms and also have their tables separated by cliques. Yangyang just so happened to sit in the school rebels aka trouble makers section.

His friends Lucas, CJ, Samuel, and Hendery were smacking their lips eating their pork rice bowl as they see you walking across the cafeteria together with his arm wrapped around his shoulder looking lovey-dovey.

Hendery winked at yangyang and the rest of the boys cheered the two of you on loving how the two of you walk what seems like in slow motion in front of everyone. "Okay, then my boy getting him some. Make sure you meet tonight at the garage to fix our motorcycle like you promised."

Yangyang looks to the side slightly blushing at the boy's comments but gives them a nod before sitting right next to you.

"Sorry, sometimes my friends can be such idiots. Let's eat shall we." The boys moan and make sexual jokes in the background making fun of yangyang even more until he throws an onigiri at them leaving you laughing.

"No it's alright, I never laughed this much in a long time. You guys make the perfect group." Your laugh makes him melt into a bigger puddle making him spill his miso soup all over his pants.

"Oh no! I'm very sorry. Let me clean that off for you" You panic grabbing napkins out of the napkin holder and run to sit very close to yangyang wiping his pants aggressively.

He gulps looking very close to your eyes all the way down to your lap but instantly snaps out of it trying to keep his cool. "Oh no it's getting worst, what should I do?"

The more you wipe the harder time he is having controlling his urges. What made him snap was when you slide his leather jacket off to wipe the stain off his thin white dress shirt. "Okay, that's enough. I can't do this, you're coming with me."

He gets up quickly grabbing you with him speeding towards the library.

...

Yangyang closes the door behind him before checking if anyone dares to come inside. He takes you all the way back to the library back to the romance book section where all the so-called "hook-ups" usually happen and push you against the bookshelf.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you intensely saying "Now I got you where I want you. Why do you keep teasing me? I see right through you."

You finally sigh giving up the innocent act and unleash your true flirty, freaky and confident side. "So you've finally caught me huh. Well, it's not a secret all the girls want you here. So I figured I'd give it try besides your not the innocent one either."

You play with the buttons on his shirt making it harder for him to focus. "Your gonna get me in trouble again if you keep it up, missy."

You giggle and proceed by whispering in his ear in your accent that he loved hearing since you came to the school. "Well, you're the trouble maker for a reason. It won't be bad for one more day."

"I swear to" You cut him off by pulling his shirt down and kissing him softly. "Are you sure you don't want me? I can see it all over your face. Don't deny it just give in already."

Yangyang groans and lifts you up kissing you back against the bookshelf. His kisses become more wet leaving you out of breath and begging for more. He unbuttons your shirt leaving more wet kisses down your neck making you squeal.

"Shhh quiet down. People are trying to study." He teases when clearly no one is here. You slap him lightly and bring his face against your chest letting him play with your boobs.

To make the atmosphere hotter, he starts moving closer to you, lifts your skirt up, and starts grinding against you. "Mmmph, try to keep quiet now. I'll open the door back up and let the whole school hear you scream my name." He chuckles as his movements go slightly faster.

You wrap your arms around him tighter to keep his body as close to you as possible, but that ends quickly when the lunch bell rings.

"Shit- I forgot about Trigonometry!" You panic again as you adjust your skirt and button your shirt back up. You run to grab your backpack and give him one last kiss before running out of the library.

"I'm sorry babe, but can't slip up on my first day. We can continue this later. See ya." You wave skipping out of the library.

Yangyang pouts yelling "Wait, but I didn't get to cum yet. Ugh, man I can't wait to see her again." He smirks adjusting his leather jacket but realizes he smells the leftover soup all over his uniform.

"Crap, I still gotta clean this up."

taglist: @bigbrainenergytingz @purplepsycho03 @dreamyycore @melonmochimoon @soleilsuhh @dundun-baby @kpopsnowball

Send me an ask if you want to be added or removed from the tag list. ☕

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realcube · 3 years

Text

their team reacts to seeing them with hickeys/back scratches 💫

characters: kageyama, akaashi & kita

tw// fem! reader, sexual references, swearing, blood

kita tw// mentions of daddy kink, punishment, overstimulation - MINORS DNI

KITA’S IS AGED UP!!

thank you anon for the request 💗

Tobio Kageyama

he was on tanaka’s team for game amongst karasuno and he watched his senpai take off his shirt and wave it around after they scored another point

but instead of putting the shirt back on, he kept it off bc he was too lazy to go get it since he threw it to the other side of the gym

then noya took his shirt off too bc he was sweating buckets

but kageyama wasn’t really sure why they had their shirts off so he felt the need to ask

‘why aren’t you putting your shirt back on?’

noya was just kinda like ‘who are you, my mom?’ but tanaka gave him a straight answer which was ‘it helps with ✨ aerodynamics✨’

kageyama isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so he doesn’t even know what aerodynamics are

but then he watched tanaka make a killer spike and he was sold

shirt = off

aerodynamics = thriving (?)

sets = awesome

back scratches = exposed 😳

hotel = trivago

tsukishima was the first one to notice ofc as he was positioned right behind kageyama

he didn’t say anything tho bc yamaguchi was on the opposite team so he just had to snicker to himself

hinata was like ‘what’s so funny, stinkyshima?!’ bc he automatically assumed that tsukishima was laughing at him lol

but then he followed tsukki’s gaze and leaned back to look at kageyama’s back too

‘yeesh, man. you should probably put some aloe vera on that or something, it could get infected.’

AIUWRAFHBE ok ok hinata isn’t completely oblivious to the connotations of back scratches but he’d never think in a million years that kageyama would get laid so he kinda subconsciously ruled that possibilty out-

kageyama quirked a brow, ‘what?’

‘your back! it’s all mangled.’

then noya and tanaka ran over and fkn BURST OUT LAUGHING

at this point, all of kageyama’s team was surrounding him while the other team waited patiently for them to serve

but after a while, it was clear that they weren’t gonna do that so suga - who was on the opposing team - strolled over to see what they were all laughing about

and when he saw it- bitch- he went red

a cool mom so he probably made a suggestive remark as he walks away

it eventually got to the point where everyone in the gym was crowded around kageyama and for ease, i’ll categorize their reactions:

laughing their ass off ➵ tsukishima, tanaka, nishinoya, coach ukai & yamaguchi

concerned and confused ➵ yachi, takeda, hinata & narita

a blushing mess ➵ asahi, kinoshita & sugawara

unfazed 😐 ➵ kiyoko & daichi

LIVID ➵ kageyama

‘WHY DO YOU ALL CARE SO MUCH ABOUT MY BACK?!’

kageyama could literally break his neck and walk into practise with a neck brace and no one would bat an eye but now that he has scratches on his back, suddenly everyone is so concerned about his wellbeing? where with this energy that time he said that hinata gave him a concussion?

to be fair, he didn’t have a concussion- also, he forgot the word so he told suga that hinata gave him a ‘conclusion’

daichi agreed, trying to usher everyone back to their spot on the court, ‘yeah, it’s no big deal, guys. let’s get back to practise.’

everyone slowly made their way back to where they were previously but since tanaka and noya were still on kageyama’s team, they continued to pry

tanaka flung his arm around kageyama’s shoulders, ‘so how’d you get those scratches, big boy?’

an ungodly laugh left noya’s mouth

kageyama shrugged, ‘(y/n), i think.’

the whole gym room went silent before erupting in choruses of laughter once again

‘WELL YOU AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND NEED TO CALM DOWN THEN!’ tanaka wheezed

kageyama was truly the idiot that didn’t understand the implications of the back scratches - so you can imagine that he was frustrated when everyone started laughing again

‘what’s so funny?’ but then, he recalled the events which he was pretty certain were the reason for the marks on his back......it was pretty funny

you insisted on giving kageyama a back massage after a long day of practise so he took his shirt off and let you go for it

for the record, he really loved it :)) he was just so happy sitting there between your thighs as you sat on the couch and rubbed his back, loosening all the knots he didn’t even know he had

but then he got a lil’ inch on his back and was like ‘can you get that for me?’ since your hands were already on his shoulders/back

ofc you said yes and started lightly scratching the spot he desired, but being extra careful bc you just got you nails done in the stiletto shape and the last thing you wanted to do was puncture his back lol

‘harder..’ kageyama muttered so low that you almost didn’t hear him

you obliged, pressing a bit harder

‘harder.’ he insisted once more

again, you served by digging your nails in a bit deeper

‘harder.’

‘no, kags. i’ll literally pierce your skin if i press any harde--’

‘harder!’ he barked (for a joke) and you jumped from fright, instinctively pushing in more and increasing the pace of your hand

at this point, you were rigorously clawing at his back, on the verge of drawing blood which you could tell by his skin’s newfound crimson pigment

kageyama took it upon himself to lean backwards onto your nails to force you to go rougher as you had yet to ease his itch

then you let out a high-pitched scream so naturally, kageyama jerked away then peered over his shoulder to make sure you hadn’t like..died

‘what?!’ he asked, eyes filled with worry

‘blood!’ you yelled, pointing at his back before sprinting to the kitchen to get a tissue

kageyama’s gaze followed you until you were out of sight, then he lightly touched his back around the parts you were scratching and once he pulled his hand away, he noticed the blood which was now on his fingers

‘oh.’

the concerning part was that he didn’t even feel it tbh 🤔

anyway tanaka and noya probably coo ‘oooh~ lovebirds~’ when you come pick him up from practise

Keiji Akaashi

bokuto heard some ppl whispering about akaashi & (y/n) in the changing room so he turned around to take a look at his friend then he noticed the scratch marks on his poor friends’ back

‘AKAASHI!! DID YOU GET MAULED BY A BEAR?!?!’ he screamed, grabbing the attention of everyone in the changing room and those who weren’t whispering about akaashi before, were definitely doing so now

akaashi smiled softly and shook his head, hastily throwing on his shirt and buttoning it up as he spoke, ‘no, bokuto-san.’

bokuto quirked a brow, wondering what could’ve possibly happened before his jaw dropped to the ground

‘is it ‘cause i patted your back a bit hard earlier?!?!?’

akaashi didn’t even bother to question how bokuto could think that a slap on the spine could lead to scratch marks and instead just replied normally, ‘no.’

bokuto was stumped once again- why else would his buddy have marks on his back? and why was (y/n) such a prominent name floating around in this changing room? doesn’t everyone know that she is taken by bokuto’s best-bro akaashi?

....

WAIT

bokuto’s jaw hung open once again as his soul left his body through an overdramatic gasp, before leaning in and whispering in akaashi’s ear, ‘wait- don’t tell me- you and (y/n)-’

akaashi’s cheeks tinted red slightly so he turned his head away while he pulled on his blazer, ‘no.’

bokuto let out a light sigh of relief, gently patting his pal’s back, ‘ah, good. but then, where did those marks come from?’

before akaashi even got the opportunity to open his mouth to respond, komi and konoha passed the pair, konoha patting akaashi’s shoulder and komi shot him a toothy grin accompanied by a thumbs-up, ‘get some, akaashi.’

then they walked off, konoha mubbling something about his chances with (y/n) being ruined

this left both bokuto and akaashi extremely confused

once all traces of komi and konoha were gone, akaashi proceeded to explain himself

‘backne is a horrible thing.’ he murmured, grabbing his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder before strolling out the changing room. ‘i’ll wait for you outside.’

and bokuto just stood there like (。_。) ‘what’s backne?’

Shinsuke Kita

atsumu had invited the whole squad back to inarizaki for one last game before coach kurosu’s retirement

after ages of arrangement, the whole team were able to make an appearance at the game - whether that be for 10 minutes or the whole thing

kita was able to stay for the whole thing

he was currently warming-up while chatting with aran before he was approached by atsumu, who was as lively as ever

‘mister rice farmer! it’s good to see you again!’ he sung, tossing his arm around kita’s shoulder and patting it in a friendly manner, ‘how’s life been treating ya?’

kita and atsumu somehow managed to make small-talk as if they hadn’t been apart for the last 6 years

‘me and my girlfriend have only been together for 6 months but i think i’m ready to settle down.’ atsumu mused, tapping his elbow before realising that he had been talking about himself for a while, ‘but anyway, i see that you and (y/n) are still going strong. haven’t y’all been together since the first year of highschool? that’s impressive! when are you gonna wife her up?’

kita perked up upon hearing that, ‘uh, yes. but how do you know that?’

atsumu couldn’t help but smirk, casually running a hand through his hair before motioning to the hickey on kita’s neck which was on semi-display, ‘right there, bud.’

kita looked down but unfortunately, his neck didn’t bend enough to see what atsumu was referring to

‘also,’ atsumu chuckled, slightly embarrassed about what he was going to admit ‘i saw the pic of her you put on your facebook.’

‘ah, okay.’ that one kita could understand

atsumu was about to open this mouth to say something but then the shrieking noise of the coach kurosu’s whistle rang through the gym room, indicating the start of the match

the game went surprisingly smooth tbh

minimal fights :o

but kita did get teased quite a lot smh

anyway, after everything was all said and done and everyone started to filter out the gym, kita rushed to the bathroom to check himself in the mirror and see what atsumu was referring to on his neck

once he took a look at himself, he frowned

just as he thought, a hickey - that’s embarrassing

it was clear you made an effort to place hickeys in areas that would be hidden though as the bruise was barely peeking out from under the collar of his jersey, atsumu just has a rather keen eye

however, that wasn’t going to stop kita from pounding you dry when he gets home - as a punishment ofc

kita was about to leave but he couldn’t help but stay and stare at himself in the mirror for a bit longer, recalling last night as he wondered at what point you bit those onto his neck

was it during the 2nd round? or the foreplay? or perhaps the 4th round? wait- no- definitely during aftercare cuddles!..or actually, maybe the 1st round?

in all honesty, he couldn’t remember

to him the whole night was a blur of pounding into you relentlessly, overstimulation, pleads for mercy, tears, passionate kisses and praise

with a sprinkle of daddy kink but let’s not talk about that

oh, and not to forget the way you’d call out his name just as you were about to reach your orgasm

or your sweet, lewd whines that echoed through the room when he thrashes against your sensitive spot

and don’t get him started on the cute little nicknames you have for him that squeal out through moans, like ‘daddy’, ‘master’, ‘sir’ etc

kita snapped out of his fantasies, letting out a sigh and about to exit the bathroom- until he noticed himself in the mirror out of the corner of his eye

he was hard

smh smh smh

now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place

(literally 🤠)

he could either potentially embarrass himself or cause an accident by walking to his car and driving home with a throbbing boner

or he could call you to help him jerk off in a bathroom stall

so he took a seat in one of the stalls - for the sake of the ppl he might run over if he did otherwise

he rung you up and thankfully, you picked up and you weren’t feeling bratty enough to deny him the help he needed so badly

although it wasn’t a very pleasurable experience since he was constantly on hyper-alert just in case the janitor walked in, at least he got a lot of nostalgia from it :))

745 notes · View notes

neoculturetravesty · 3 years

Text

We met in online class - Part 6

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, some fluff, lots of angst in this part Warnings: Strong language, descriptions of stress and anxiety, fist fight Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: Buckle up for some angst.

They say when it rains, it pours and Renjun was about to learn the true meaning of this expression.

Throughout his college life, Renjun had heard his share of praise from his professors who would tell him that he was gifted in a way not many artists were. But now that the career drives and job fairs had begun, Renjun learnt that at best, he was average. In the real world, he wasn’t ‘golden hands’ or gifted or anything like it--he was just one in a line of millions. Because in the bigger picture, Renjun’s competition was not just people in his school; he was competing with even better artists from even better universities that had even better skills and even better means. His design professor had very plainly told the class one day that out of all of them, maybe one or two would ‘make it’ in the real world, if they got lucky. So Renjun knew that if had to shut up anyone who ever doubted him, compete with the best and place anywhere solid by the time he graduated, he needed to land a stellar internship.

Not that his current internship was going any better. Renjun learnt that even small studios were a handful and that an internship basically meant being an errand boy. When he had taken on the job, he had fantasized about meeting exciting artists and maybe even helping the chief curate his best work yet. But more often than not, he found that he was sweeping the place down, and if he got lucky, he got to make a few calls to potential clients (who would yell at him before hanging up).

And of course, like any self-respecting college that thrived on the student body’s mental health deterioration, the professors weren’t going any easier on the projects, even with the impending exams.

On top of everything that was happening, Renjun had developed a constant tension in his neck and shoulders. Jaemin reckoned it was because Renjun was hunched over his paintings all the time as he followed the perfect lighting all over the apartment. You, on the other hand, reckoned it was because of all the stress.

“You’re just carrying a lot of anxiety on these gangster shoulders, Huang Renjun.” you had said as you kneaded your knuckles into his hurt one day as you brought him food. Lately, you had taken it upon yourself to make sure that Renjun was eating and staying hydrated through these pressure cooker times. Because when he was left to his own devices, eating would be pretty low on his priority list, simply because he did not have the time for meals. So you’d bring him a snack any time you saw him on campus, and when you didn’t see him, you’d get something delivered to him and if you couldn’t, you’d text him a reminder to eat. But as one would have it during end-of-semester madness, Renjun had received your food more than your company. Because truth be told, you were just as occupied.

Renjun hadn’t seen enough of you in what he was sure was now going to be a good two weeks running because you had way too much on your plate as well. Like Renjun, you too were swarmed by assignments and exams. But other than that, any time he did see you, you were ‘interview dressed’ for all the on-campus drives that were happening in your department. Renjun had come to wish you good luck on one of them and had seen how distracted you looked because apparently, you had pulled some all-nighters to prepare for this. Donghyuck had been the one to tell Renjun about this little bit.

Because when you weren’t studying or giving interviews or working on projects, you were preparing to throw an end-of-semester party with Donghyuck. He had to admit, there had been moments where Renjun had been irritated that Donghyuck would know more about what was happening in your life than did he. But then again, who was to blame for that?

Renjun knew it was no one’s fault but his own. Because that’s the dumb precedent he had set from the very beginning--that he wouldn’t get too close. He was paying that price for it because somewhere along the way, you had begun to confide in Donghyuck more than in Renjun, though this development was gradual and subconscious. He supposed that since you had met him, some part of you had learnt that she was walking into a wall anytime things got deep with Renjun. And there are only so many times that people were willing to walk into walls before they learnt their lesson.

Renjun knew that you were always ready to provide emotional support. But he also saw that when you were the one that needed it, you were subconsciously turning to Donghyuck rather than to him.

And because you weren’t doing so consciously, Renjun couldn’t even be upset with you. Who was he to be upset with you over it in the first place? He had spent all those weeks skillfully blocking you. So, just because he had changed his mind now didn’t mean that he could earn your vents right away. It would take some effort on his part and he acknowledged that.

But it wasn’t you hanging out with Donghyuck that bothered him. It was someone else.

Wong Hendery, it appeared, was always around you these days and for some reason, that really bothered Renjun. You had a lot of friends. You were just the kind of person who made friends wherever you went. His own friends were an example. Lately, any time he ran into his roommates in the living room or kitchen (since all of them were buried in work otherwise), they would inquire about you instead of him. You just made a lot of friends and that was a fact of life that Renjun lived with. And whilst so far, Renjun had been okay with all of them, he had no idea why seeing Wong Hendery around you made him feel some type of way.

And in the strangest turn of events, he had even found himself subtly voicing this to you a couple of times. It had bothered him even more that you had never taken him seriously any time he brought it up. You had either been distracted or disinterested whenever this came up. Or perhaps you had very tactfully been avoiding the subject. You weren’t exactly the scheming type, so Renjun was sure it wasn’t that. All he knew was that at the end of it, he would just end up feeling stupid, because, well… it was a stupid, baseless feeling to have, whatever this was.

All in all, Renjun couldn’t tell what matter it was from the pillage that kept his mood sour these days. His failure in the job fairs, his increasing workload, the impending exams, his lackluster internship, or something else. He recognized that a big part of it had to do with not seeing you enough. He wasn’t going to be the idiot that denied that anymore. Since the party at your parent’s house, he hadn’t had a moment with you where it was just the two of you and you could talk about… well, the two of you. Not seeing you enough was making him sour, he knew that. However, not seeing you enough combined with the fact that Wong Hendery was around you all the time was probably pretty up there as a reason for his bad moods.

The only upside in the end-of-semester times was that the damn virus seemed to be under control. Students could now more freely move about and a lot more cafes and parks had reopened. So, at the very least, Renjun could get a change of scenery whilst he painted or studied because he was getting tired of his apartment and the library and the damn studio.

Today, he had just grabbed his things and sent you a very persuasive text, because really, enough was enough. Yes, you were both very busy. Yes, you didn’t have any time today. But you could at least give him one study date out in the sun, and finally, for the first time in two weeks, he had felt that happiness in his chest when you told him you’d come.

The two of you sat by the river as Renjun sketched and made notes and you typed away on your laptop. Your hair was done up in a bun and you wore the campus hoodie and you didn’t even look up from your work when Renjun leaned over to feed you some rice. It had made Renjun smile. You looked like every boy’s fantasy of a college girlfriend but thinking about it also made his heart a tiny bit heavy. Because after all this time, the two of you still hadn’t had that conversation. Come to think of it, the two of you hadn’t even kissed ever since that afternoon in the strawberry fields. And maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t sat with you like this in a couple of weeks, or maybe it was seeing you share your time with other people. But Renjun felt that he had to address the some elephant in the room sooner rather than later. Because he didn’t want a some relationship any longer. He wanted more.

“No one’s going to be happier than me when this semester is over.” you mutter as you chew onto whatever Renjun had fed you.

“You and me both. Let’s celebrate our freedom together when it ends.” Renjun suggests as he sits up to stretch his neck.

“Done deal.” You look up from your laptop to give him a fist bump.

“Hey, I was thinking…” Renjun hesitates. “Let’s go somewhere together. After the semester is over.” He feels butterflies in his stomach even as he asks you that. And he knows why. Because this is the first time he’s asking you for a real date, where he wants to take you out for your company, no opportunistic strings attached. But also, he wants to take you away from everyone else where he would have all of your attention and he could finally tell you how he really feels.

You smile as you shuffle your notes. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere. We could go to the beach and go mudflat fishing. If that’s not your thing, we could go camping instead.”

You finally look at him and smile an undistracted, attentive smile. “I’d like that.”

Renjun looks at you softly as he returns your smile. “My exams end before yours. Let’s go right after your last exam.”

“Oh, I can’t go then.” You say, shaking your head quickly.

“Why?”

“Haechan and I are hosting the end-of-semester, remember?” you remind him and Renjun holds himself back before he could exhale over ‘Haechan and I’.

“Okay, how about the day after?” Renjun asks.

“I can’t go then, either. Hendery and I have to go visit the tower.” you tell him.

This time, Renjun can’t hold back. Because ‘Hendery and I’ was way, way worse than ‘Haechan and I’. Before he could stop himself, he finds himself commenting

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Wong Hendery, huh?” he hadn’t meant for that hint of accusation to lace his tone, but it had come out that way.

“Ughhhh, tell me about it. He says he’d basically be happy never seeing me again once all of this is over.” you say as you steal his bowl of rice and begin stuffing your face. Renjun feels that irritation again because as always, you seem to be blowing this topic off. But for some reason, he doesn’t want to let it go today.

“I just don’t trust him.” Renjun says and he finds himself clenching his jaw a little.

You look at him from above the rice and smile amusedly. “Why though? He’s a cool dude.”

“I don’t know. There’s just something about him. I just… I don’t know, I guess it’s a guy’s instinct.” he says, and like anytime he has brought up this subject before, he’s feeling incredibly dumb.

You raise an eyebrow and look away from him. You don’t seem very impressed by the comment. “Nah, he’s super cool and all of that. You can meet him if you like.” you say in a tone that is way too nonchalant for Renjun’s liking.

He had met him before, of course. But he didn’t know Wong Hendery even if he did know Wong Hendery. So how could he tell you that the man was bad news based on just a feeling? ‘He’s using you! Why don’t you see that he’s using you!’ Renjun wanted to yell at you. But he says something else.

“Just, like… I don’t know. He just seems mysterious and unsharing.” Renjun tries to explain.

“So are you.”

There is a moment of silence as Renjun feels a sting and you look at him with no expression.

You were right.

Renjun hadn’t shared anything about himself with you. The things you knew about him was information you had probably collected through his friends. The only time he had really opened up to you was that one night in his room. Suddenly, more than irritation, he feels angry with himself.

What a stupid, stupid, stupid idea it had been to set those dumbass rules with you. How had he expected it would pan out? How did he think he could use you as a means to an end, but not learn anything about you or give away anything about himself? He hadn’t thought this through at all. Then again, he hadn’t expected for it to go on this long; and he most certainly hadn’t expected that he would end up falling for you.

“I just… I don’t trust him around you.” Renjun admits and this time, he has the decency to sound a little ashamed.

“I know how to take care of myself, Renjun.” you tell him quietly.

Renjun looks away because for the first time since he’s known you, you’ve spoken to him that way. He wants to scream and pull his hair because no. You don’t. You don’t know how to take care of yourself. How could he tell you that you weren’t the best judge of character? How could he tell you that you allowed people around you to take advantage of you?

‘It’s why you’re sitting here with me’ Renjun thinks with another sting. He knew Hendery was up to no good with you because he himself had been one of those people that used you for their own gain. He had used your kind heart and your willingness to see the good in people for his own stupid plan. The stupid, dumbass, flawed plan that he hadn’t thought through in the slightest. He had thought he had, because Renjun always assumed he was smarter than everyone in any room. That was probably his dumbest yet most defining trait; as kindheartedness was yours.

As if to add insult to injury, your phone rings and Wong Hendery’s name shines cockily onto your screen, mocking Renjun in all its glory.

“Hey, are you here?” you say as you pick up. You look around till you spot him and wave at him “Okay, coming!”

Renjun looks to where you had signaled and sees Hendery in his bigass car. He notices Renjun looking, waves at him and smiles.

Renjun’s eyes close and he takes in a deep breath as you begin collecting your things. He doesn’t know why he’s being this way. He had been jealous before; he was an openly bitter person, that much he knew about himself. He despised every other asshole that did better than him. But this was a kind of jealousy he had never really experienced before. He wanted to protect you, but he also wanted to keep you… because now, he could feel you slipping away from him.

“I’ll call you, okay? Make sure you eat dinner.” your voice sounds a little resigned and suddenly, Renjun feels his heart drop. It’s a strange feeling, but there it is in the pit of his stomach. Renjun realizes that the feeling really closely resembled fear. And it’s because you’re leaving like this.

Had this been your first fight? Maybe it had. It hadn’t felt like a fight, because Renjun has fought with a lot of people before, and this was nothing like that. There was no screaming, no gaslighting, no accusations. But it was the tone you had taken with him. Like you were disappointed. Like you expected better. You had never taken that tone with him before. So as you stand up to walk away, Renjun grabs your hand. He looks up from where he sits.

“Hey…” his heart is sinking, he has this awful feeling in his chest and now he no longer knows what to say to keep you. So he brings your knuckles to his lips and presses into them for a few moments before he looks back at you. “Are we good?” He wants to kiss you, he wants to take you in his arms and kiss you and know that nothing has changed. But he knows that Wong Hendery is sitting right there and he doesn’t want you to think that he’s putting on a show of jealous, testosterone fueled possession.

He watches as your face softens. You crouch so your face is levelled with his. You keep holding your bag that’s slung over your shoulder with one hand. With the other, you gently hold onto his cheek and lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“We’re good.” you say and you smile and then you lift back up to turn around.

Renjun watches unmoving as you walk away from him and drive off with Wong Hendery. He keeps watching till the car makes a turn and disappears from view.

Though you had told him that you were good, that sinking feeling hasn’t left his chest. Because Renjun realizes that what you had done had felt a lot like a goodbye kiss.

Renjun doesn’t get time to dwell on his aching heart too much, because soon after, exams begin.

It is as if a lull had taken over the entire campus. Everyone around him had their heads down as they studied and slept and slept to study. Jeno and Jaemin had taken over the living room table as they crammed and kept each other awake through their all-nighters. Jisung would try to take some motivation from them but the boy had never been too fond of studying, so he’d end up asleep on the couch whilst Jeno and Jaemin took the floor. Even Donghyuck--who had insofar made it through college based on pure intelligence--could be seen bent over his notes in the library. For a week, each student on campus had a similar schedule; like someone had hit the pause button on everything else in life.

Perhaps it had been the exam stress. Perhaps it was everything that was happening culminating in Renjun’s mind, but that sinking feeling hadn’t completely dissipated from his chest. He had no way to explain what it was or why it was. But if Renjun had to describe it, it was as if a sixth sense was warning him. What the warning was about, he had no idea.

But as fate would have it, Renjun’s hardships were only beginning. Because right before his first exam, he had received a call from his mother.

He had picked up because this had been maybe her third phone call to him this entire year. But two minutes into the call, Renjun wished he hadn’t.

Questions were asked as if out of duty: if he was still in school, if he was still living with his friends, if he was looking for a job. And though Renjun hadn’t even asked for it--how she couldn’t send him money for the next couple of months because the Covid situation wasn’t doing any wonders for their restaurant. Although the conversation hadn’t even lasted a full 10 minutes, Renjun’s mind was fully fucked by the end of it. Why the fuck did she have to play with his head like this, just when he was about to go in for an exam?

He shouldn’t have been surprised. His mother had a way of sensing any time her son was emotionally strained, because she would always show up right on time to add to his burden. This is how it had been most of his life. She would appear usually when Renjun was at his lowest and remind him that he was a useless fucker that nobody cared about. And because she was his mother, she knew exactly what buttons to press to positively fuck him over.

Fuck this. None of it was fair. It wasn’t fair that she had called him after months and months. It wasn’t fair that she didn’t even want to know how he was doing. A global pandemic had turned the world upside down and she didn’t even want to know if her son was surviving through it. She just wanted to call to give him another reminder that she couldn’t take care of him. Fuck that. Fuck her. Fuck everything. Renjun didn’t need her or his father or anyone else ever again. Fuck all of it.

Renjun had hung up bitterly and that should’ve been the end of it. But for some reason, she had kept calling after that, which made Renjun throw his phone against a wall. Fuck that. She doesn’t get to call him to rub more salt to his wounds. He wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction.

It’s funny how when you’re truly feeling fucked, you tend to isolate yourself from the people who really care about you. And that’s what Renjun ended up doing following that phone call. Almost as if in self-sabotage, he started avoiding everyone and hid himself away. Because no way did anyone really need him, anyway. Renjun knew that even in his friend group, he was the one the others could do without.

Jeno and Jaemin had one another. They would babysit Jisung well enough, and when they didn’t, Jisung had Zhong Chenle. His housemates didn’t really need him, so hiding from them was easy. Lately, he had also stopped hanging out with Yangyang because he was afraid he’d run into Hendery. Lee Mark hadn’t really hung out with him ever since he joined the 127s. And Donghyuck… well, he had you.

So even you could do without him. You had been doing just fine without him these past couple of weeks. You had still been bringing him snacks, even after that study date. But Renjun wondered if that was because of your bad, kind habit rather than anything else. Truth be told, Renjun didn’t want your snacks anymore. Because each time he got them, it reminded him that he was nothing special to you. He wasn’t any different to you than Jaemin or Jeno or Donghyuck. He was just another guy that you were kind to out of habit. Fuck that. He didn’t need your kindness, or anyone else’s. He was fine on his own.

But on the night after his last exam, he finally picked up the phone he had thrown and read his messages through his cracked phone screen. Just to see if someone missed him. As expected, no one did. But there were some messages from you.

‘Hey shoulder gangster, remember to put on pain patches before you sleep!’

‘I ordered some chicken for you guys, eat well and study well.’

‘Hey, I tried calling you. I had gotten you coffee, but I couldn’t find you so now hyuckie is drinking it.’

‘Ayo. I hope your exam went well. Sending some Chinese food over, so eat before you study!’

‘Hey, Jaemin told me your phone is busted. Idk if you’re gonna see this message, but just wanted to know you’re doing well.’

‘I tried to see you before you went in for your exam but Jeno said you had already left.’

‘Hey… I hope you’re not still upset with me. I’m gonna stop bothering you so we can both study, but I’ll come see you soon.’

‘Okay, I guess i’ll see you after exam week? Meet soon.’

That was the last of it. After that, you hadn’t sent him anything at all. Even you had stopped reaching out to him.

It seemed that when it came down to it, no one would ever fight for Renjun. No one would want to find out why he was in hiding, or why he hadn’t replied. When worst came to worst, Renjun was always left to fend for himself. He was all alone in this world.

Jeno and Jaemin would always know what the other was feeling without having to use the words. Neither of them had to explain to the other what was on their mind. They just… knew. When one was in trouble, the other would come running. When one was down, the other would pick him up. Neither had to ask; the other would just sense it and be there. Jisung and Chenle had a similar connection.

But no one ever sensed Renjun’s heart. No one just knew when he was sad or upset or angry or in trouble. No one would pick him up because no one loved him enough to know his mind. No one had ever paid any real attention to him to know when he was struggling. No one had ever held his hand and taken him out of his despair. No one would even notice that he was in despair. Because he wasn’t anyone’s special anything.

He had been hiding away for an entire week and no one had even noticed his absence. No one had called in to check on him. Because no one really needed him. Not his friends, not his family. Not even you.

They say when it rains, it pours, and Renjun was about to learn the true meaning of this phrase. Because just when he is about to put his phone away, he receives a text from his mother.

‘Renjun, I didn’t want to tell you this way. But you’re not picking up my calls. Come see me. Your father and I are getting a divorce.’

Renjun had never really been a big drinker. He’d drink some with the boys every now and then. But that was it. But tonight was an exception. Tonight, it was okay to turn to the drink. Tonight, he wanted to forget.

After the kind of day he had had, he thought that even his demons could give him a break. He felt drained. Like his mind was slowly giving up and his body was doing all the heavy lifting. Putting one foot in front of the other. Making him breathe in and out. Keeping his heart beating. It would be doing his mind a favor, drinking. His mind needed numbing, then maybe his body could follow.

He walks into the bar a broken man. And he wonders if that’s how all men are when they walk into bars. Maybe that’s why men who walk into bars make such good punchlines for jokes. He certainly felt like one. Because the people that should love him seemed to treat him like one. Who was he to think any better of himself?

He had made peace with the fact that his parents never wanted him. He had accepted that they were happy to get rid of him. Then why did he still expect their love every single time? What was it that made him go running to them any time they asked? Why had he expected that somehow visiting them would fix everything?

Had he expected that they would sit him down and peacefully explain why they were parting ways? Of course, he hadn’t. Had he expected that his mother would cry and apologize for putting him through this? Of course, he hadn’t. Had he expected that his father would own up to his mistakes and call him his son? Of course, he hadn’t.

But he also hadn’t expected that neither of them would want anything to do with him after they parted ways. He hadn’t expected to be the collateral damage of a failed marriage that neither party was willing to own. He hadn’t expected to be summoned just so his parents could have a screaming match about whose son he’d be after they divorced. And that both would want to shift that burden to the other.

It suited them, Renjun thinks as he downs whatever the bartender had handed him. It would’ve been more unsettling to have made the trip to find something understanding and amiable. This was on-brand for them. This is how it had been since he was a child. They’d fight and Renjun would be collateral damage. This was the perfect ending to their twenty-one year old saga. Renjun had expected it.

So, why was he feeling like he had lost everything?

“Huang Renjun?” he hears a voice call out to him as if from miles away. Was he drowning? Then why did he feel like he couldn’t breathe? Why did the voices around him sound like they were coming from far away?

“Yoo Jimin.” Renjun finds himself automatically answering. He looks up and let’s his eyes focus and there he finds her. He smiles. Of course. Who else would’ve been the guest of honor in his pity party?

“What are you doing here?” she asks him and Renjun finds himself making a face.

“Drinking.” he says as he lifts up his shot glass.

“Did you follow me here?” she asks cryptically. Typical. Of course everything had to be about her.

“How would I know you’d be here?” Renjun says, looking away as he downs another shot.

“I told everyone at the party I was leaving to be here.” she says and her eyebrow is cocked as she comes closer.

“Party?”

“Haechan’s party? All your friends were there. Weren’t you there?” she asks cautiously.

Ah, yes, the party. The end-of-semester party. Here he was, drinking his pain away. And his friends, the people who should be concerned about him were partying. It was all very fitting he supposed. This perfectly fit into everything in his life at this moment. Including the fact the Yoo Jimin had been the one to find him when he was at his lowest.

“I didn’t feel like a party.” Renjun replies.

Jimin scoffs. “Typical. Of course Huang Renjun thinks he’s above a party everyone would enjoy.”

Renjun doesn’t answer. It’s an annoying remark and part of him wonders why it is irking him so. His heart was burdened by bigger things. Perhaps his mind thought that being annoyed at Yoo Jimin was an easier emotion to address. This was an emotion he understood. It was an emotion he could process right away. So he turns to her and finds her sitting on the stool next to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, because really. Why is she here, talking to him, sitting next to him?

“Oh, don’t worry, Renjun. I’m only waiting for someone.” she says, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair.

“You can wait for someone over there.” Renjun points to a place far away with his glass.

“Okay, you don’t have to be an asshole. I just came in to see why you were drinking alone while all your friends are at that party.” she says and now more than agitation, Renjun feels anger.

“Why do you care if I drink alone, anyway? You’re the one that broke up with me.” he spits out.

“Renjun, seriously, what is your problem? I’m only trying to be nice to you. You don’t have to come for me like that.” Jimin’s eyebrows are high on her forehead as she matches Renjun’s tone.

“Well, thanks a lot, Yoo Jimin. Thank you for your gift of empathy, but I don’t really need it. Not after everything you did to me.”

“Renjun! Seriously, what is it that I did to you? What did I do to you?” she raises her voice in agitation.

“Well, other than abandoning me? Pretending that you were happy with me then pulling the rug from under my feet and breaking up with me? Not even waiting a month before moving on?” Renjun spits venom right back. Who did she think she was, coming here and speaking to him like that?

“Jesus Christ, Renjun. Would you listen to yourself? Does it ever occur to you that you could’ve been the asshole in this relationship? That maybe I broke up with you because you were the jerk?” Jimin’s face is contoured as she yells at him. It’s good that the bar is relatively full, otherwise this could’ve been a scene.

“I was nothing but nice to you. I treated you so well and you treated me like dirt!” Renjun hisses.

“Renjun, that’s your problem! You only see the faults in others and never in yourself! But you’re not ready for that conversation, so let’s not have it!” she yells and turns away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, no, by all means, let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about all the times I mistreated you, please.” Renjun mocks. He was already too used to being gaslighted by his parents. Jimin could join that club. This was already the worst day of his life. It couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Renjun, this! This right here. You never respected me. You never treated me like an equal. With you, I always felt like some stupid, airheaded trophy. I always felt like everything I wanted was superficial and shallow and not worth anything!”

“And whose fault is that.” Renjun laughs darkly.

“Renjun, you can’t even see what you’re doing! You just think you’re so much better than everyone else! You think everyone around you is a degenerate and that you’re the smartest person to ever walk this earth. I can’t believe I let you treat me that way for so long.” Jimin’s hands go from balling into fists to animatedly helping her point. “Renjun, I wanted to be a model for the longest time. But I didn’t, because of you! Because every time I’d post a picture on my Instagram, you’d tell me it was because I love getting validation from strangers. Every time an agent reached out to me, you’d tell me how showing off my looks wasn’t going to be a long lasting career. You just never respected me or my aspirations. Because all of them were so beneath Mr. Intellectual.”

Renjun turns away. He pours himself another shot and downs it. He didn’t want a lecture. Who was she to show up like this and give him a lecture unprovoked?

“If it weren’t for Jongin, I would’ve believed everything you ever said to me. That people would only like me for my looks. That what I wanted to do was superficial and shallow and that I would never amount to anything if I followed my heart.” she goes on and Renjun has had enough.

“Save it, Jimin. We’re broken up now, so what does it matter?” he doesn’t look at her. She could yell at him all she wanted. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

“I only came to you because I saw you drinking alone. And I know that’s not like you. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.” her voice has lowered significantly, but the agitation hasn’t left her tone. Renjun wonders if she has more to say, because he certainly doesn’t want to listen to any more.

“Well, that’s very kind of you, but I’m fine on my own.” he says coldly, still not looking at her.

Jimin sighs. “Renjun, when will you realize that the whole world isn’t out to get you? I know your family isn’t perfect. But you’ve got friends that care about you. You’ve got people around you that love you. If only you could stop being an asshole to them for one hot minute and see that.”

Renjun still doesn’t turn. Because she doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t know his life. She doesn’t know how alone he feels. She doesn’t know jackshit about what he goes through, what he has been going through. Who is she to comment on his life and stand there like that and lecture him? She didn’t know anything. Fuck her for making him feel like he was the asshole. The world was taking a giant dump on him, and she was making him feel like he was the asshole. Fuck that.

She grabs her purse and gets off the stool. “I’ve got to go now. I just hope you feel better. Whatever it is that you’re going through. Please don’t go through it alone, Renjun.” she says before she walks away.

Renjun feels a lump in his throat. How could he not go through it alone? Who was going to be by his side? No one. So what use were his tears? He wouldn’t let them fall. He swallows that lump away, and when it doesn’t work, he takes another shot. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He could just go home and sleep. Maybe that would work. The alcohol wasn’t numbing anything. It was just making him more bitter, but for more reasons than what he had come in with.

So he finds himself walking home. Putting one foot in front of the other. Breathing in and out. Keeping his heart beating.

He felt so alone. Was he the loneliest man in the world? He could bet money that he was. No one knew what he was going through. And that’s what made him feel most abandoned. But then again. Fuck that. He didn’t need anyone. What good were friends anyway? Friendships really meant nothing. Renjun finally realized that what he had were not friends, but connections. Because at the end of the day, that’s what this goddamn college life was all about. Making as many connections as you possibly could, so you could reap advantages from them later on life. All of his relationships were opportunistic. And realizing this was giving him the worst headache of his life. Like all the alcohol was thrumming in his head and blinding him.

He arrives at his doorstep, punches in his code, walks in and freezes at what he sees.

Jeno, Jaemin, Jisung, Donghyuck, Zhong Chenle and you were all in the living room, drinking and eating and laughing. None of them had even noticed that Renjun had walked in. Because they were all too busy bellowing together.

Suddenly, Renjun feels his blood boiling hot in his veins. How dare they. How dare they look like one big happy fucking family right in front of him. Renjun pushes back all emotions he’d been feeling and holds onto one: red hot burning anger. He heads in.

“Hey, hey! Look who’s finally back!” Donghyuck says mid-laughter as he finally notices him. “Come join us because Mark is passed out on your bed, by the way.” he laughs but his smile slowly fades as he watches Renjun’s expression.

“You okay, man?” Jeno asks slowly.

The others slowly start reading his energy as well because his demeanor has gotten everyone’s attention. Renjun wants to pick a fight. He wants to fight with all of them for not being there for him. But he looks around for an easy target. Someone he can direct all his ruthless anger towards. And his eyes zero in on you.

“What are you doing here?” Renjun asks you urgently. Like you’ve done something wrong.

“I just got you some food. We all thought we’d eat with you since you didn’t come to the party.” you say and you get up smiling and take Renjun’s wrist “Come, sit.”

But Renjun roughly snatches his hand away from your grip, making you look up suddenly. Your eyes are round, but you don’t look angry. You perhaps look shocked, but mostly concerned. And that makes Renjun want to hurt you more.

“You can’t just show up here unannounced. I didn’t invite you here.” Renjun spits at you.

“Hey man, easy. We invited her.” Donghyuck gets up and puts himself between the two of you.

“Well, this is not your house, either! You can’t just invite her without asking me.” Renjun scowls at the boy.

“Renjun, I just got you some food. I just wanted to make sure you had eaten.” you say gently, stepping up from behind Donghyuck to speak to him.

“Y/N, you are not my girlfriend. So stop acting like it.” Renjun snaps and he finally watches the hurt he wanted to see on your face. He also sees Jisung’s scared expression and Jaemin’s disappointed one.

“I…” you begin “... I know… I just… I came here with the guys… I…” you begin, but Renjun yells again.

“You need to leave. You can’t just show up whenever you want.” Renjun continues and takes a step forward but Donghyuck holds a protective arm in front of you. Whoop-dee fucking doo. Now his friends thought he was some sort of a savage.

“No, Y/N, you shouldn’t leave.” He says then turns to his friend. “Dude, what is your problem?” But Renjun keeps attacking you.

“These people are not your friends, okay? They are my friends. You’re crossing a line and you need to leave right now.” Renjun loves the reactions he’s getting. He loves that he has provoked every single person in the room. Because Jaemin has gotten up and taken your hand protectively whilst Jeno has joined Donghyuck in blocking you from his view.

“Hey, man. Easy.” Jeno warns. Jisung and Chenle watch this strange confrontation with worried looks on their faces, eyes darting between him and the others. Renjun can’t believe it. All his friends were protecting you. All of them. He was the fucking monster in this room, too.

“Renjun, I just… I just came here to see you.” you say, but there’s no accusation in your tone. Just annoying, tiresome understanding. He fucking hates it and all his friends can see that he does.

After everything he had been through, after all his life was putting him through, he was the asshole, he was the monster once again.

Well, then. If everyone thought him a monster, he should become it completely.

“Y/N.” Renjun laughs as he looks away. Then he looks at you with that sinister smile still on his face. “Y/N, the only reason I’ve kept you around for so long is because I wanted to get to your brother. So you can leave now.”

That did it.

Because Donghyuck’s eyes have closed as he stands in front of you and Jeno’s eyes have widened. Jaemin just looks shocked as he holds onto your hand. As do Jisung and Chenle. But you.

Your face has hardened. He doesn’t see shock or disappointment or the kind of reaction that would’ve given him full satisfaction. He sees your stone face as you finally say something with a hint of venom in your tone.

“Well, in that case, Renjun, you’ve been wasting your time. Because I got you a slot with my brother right after our first date.”

Renjun stands speechless.

He would’ve remained speechless if you hadn’t pushed past Jeno and him and headed straight for the door.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out and goes after you. Renjun watches the others. Jaemin and Jisung have looked away and he sees nothing but pure disappointment on their faces. Jeno, on the other hand, is looking straight at him. Renjun looks back. Good. He wants everyone to hate him. This was exactly right.

He hears Donghyuck barge back into the apartment as the door bangs shut behind him.

“Dude what the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yells and Renjun finds himself shoving the boy, pushing him so he wasn’t in his space.

“What’s wrong with me? Please, Donghyuck. Don’t even pretend like you haven’t been using her the same way I’ve been. You’re not any better.” Renjun punctuates the last bit with another shove and Donghyuck grabs at his collar and roughly pulls him by it. Before it can escalate, Jeno and Jaemin rush forward to break the two of them apart. Jeno grabs onto Renjun, Jaemin onto Donghyuck, prying him off and creating some distance between the two. Jisung and Chenle look from the couch, mouths hanging open, visibly distressed.

“You didn’t have to do that, man. You didn’t have to be an asshole to her.” Donghyuck accuses as he tries to free himself from Jaemin’s grip and come face to face with Renjun again.

Renjun laughs bitterly. “Well, now that I have been, you can have her. Live your happy fucking life.” Renjun spits at him and he gets the reaction he was looking for because it makes Donghyuck lunge at him once again, making Jaemin tighten his grip and pull him back.

“What is wrong with you? You fucking asshole! Why do you think everyone’s out to get you? Stop acting like a little bitch and start acting like a man for once!” Donghyuck shouts and that does it.

Renjun feels his headache blinding him. And yet, he doesn’t know how he frees himself from Jeno’s grip. But before he knows it, he has balled his hand into a fist and aimed it straight for Donghyuck’s face.

#renjun fic #renjun angst #renjun fluff #ficscafe #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #huang renjun #renjun #nct fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct #nct dream #nct college au #renjun x reader #we met in online class

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qitwrites · 3 years

Text

breaking ground

Fandom: boku no hero academia

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / Bakugou Katsuki

(AO3)

The thing about your best friend/roommate/long-time crush/probably the love of your life being in a coma is that it sucks. Like, a lot.

‘Kats, if you don’t wake up, I will hide a dirty sock somewhere in your room. Somewhere you’ll never find it. And you’ll just have to live with that.’

The machines beep in the back, like a ghastly metronome.

‘I will move your desk 3 inches to the left.’

The soft rise and fall of the blonde’s chest is uniform, lungs contracting and expanding and contracting over and over.

‘I will literally stop watering the orchid Kats, I swear to god.’

Bakugou’s hands are by his side, nails longer than he’d ever keep. Kirishima makes a mental note to trim and file them later.

‘Ok, that’s going too far. I’d never kill Lucy, at least not on purpose.’

Bakugou continues to breathe with the help of a machine too complicated for Kirishima to understand, and the redhead just wants his best friend back. Because it’s been 16 days of Bakugou being fed and kept alive by a machine, it’s been 16 days since he heard his voice, saw his feral smile, looked into his bright, bright, bright eyes. And Kirishima is so ready for this nightmare to be over.

‘Come on Kats,’ Kirishima mumbles, laying his head down on the hospital bed and gently lacing his fingers with Bakugou’s, ‘you gotta wake up man. Our kitchen misses you. Our plants miss you. The neighbour’s cat misses you. Your mom misses you. I- fuck, I miss you.’

The machines continue to beep, his chest rises and falls uniformly, and Kirishima really just wants his best friend back.

The Bakusquad (the official immortalized name of the gang) lets Kirishima stay in the hospital in 3 days bursts, following which they bodily throw him out. For fresh air and some sunlight, they say, like he’s a dying plant.

‘You need to shower in your own home,’ Kaminari grumbles, stuffing his dirty clothes in a bag.

Sero pulls a beanie over his head. ‘And also water the plants in the balcony.’

Ashido stuffs his wallet into his pant pocket and slips his phone into his hand. ‘Also, don’t forget to dust the bookshelves! And leave some fresh water for Queens.’ She pulls him down for a soft kiss on the cheek.

Jirou pulls the phone from his hand, fiddles with it for a moment before slipping it back into his palm. She places a pair of wireless Beats headphones over his beanie, and he hears the first notes of a piano piece, calm and really lovely.

‘Playlist is on there,’ Jirou says, pointing at his hand.

And so Kirishima goes home, the home he shares with Bakugou, and he waters their plants, and dusts the bookshelves, and does some laundry and cooks easy fried rice the blonde had drilled into his brain.

He doesn’t look at Bakugou’s room door, doesn’t venture inside, doesn’t touch his space. He sticks to the common areas and his own room, and he keeps it clean and tidy, the way Bakugou likes it.

He’ll get to the blonde’s room eventually, just not yet.

Red Riot and Ground Zero are a hero pair. What this means is that they work individually when they want, and they pair up for bigger, more difficult missions.

And what a pair they make.

Riot is a wall, a shield, an unbreakable defence, always the last man standing. And Ground Zero is an explosion, a burst of light, an offence so quick and forceful the villains never stand a chance. They’re one of the best pairs out there, and they’ve done some amazing work.

It's almost stupidly ironic that Bakugou gets hurt during one of their paired missions.

The case involved several strong villains that attacked schools, and between rescue and evacuation and dealing with villains, Red Riot and Ground Zero had their hands full. Riot was mostly with the civilians and Ground Zero was keeping the damage to a minimum, but before Kirishima could go to Bakugou’s side and assist him, the damage had been done.

Because the last villain Bakugou had to deal with had decided to implode, killing himself and taking Bakugou out with him.

The damage had been immense.

Several concussions and broken ribs, bruises and internal bleeding that could only be controlled with a mix of surgeries and healing quirks. And finally, a waiting game. Bakugou had to wake up, his body had to heal itself and decide when and if he was going to wake up again.

And so Kirishima waits with him, silently supporting him from the side, ever patient, brimming with love.

25 days after the attack, Kirishima finally walks into Bakugou’s room.

The air smells faintly like sugar, like his quirk. The walls are bare but for the few polaroids Kirishima tacks on the wall above his desk. The laptop and file folders are sitting atop his table, a thin layer of dust coating them, and the only messy thing is his unmade bed.

Kirishima crawls under his sheets, breaths in his scent, and for the first time since Bakugou had decided to be an ass and slip into a coma, the redhead cries. Giant sobs that seem to come from his core, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, snot dripping out his nose.

Kirishima cries with the force of a thousand suns, and falls asleep right there, twisted in Bakugou’s sheets, in his unmade bed, in the middle of a room covered in a thin, fine layer of dust, smelling only slightly like burnt, warm sugar.

A month after the attack, Kirishima finally cleans Bakugou’s room.

Mina had made a good point. ‘If you don’t clean his room, it’s like you’re saying he’s not coming back so there’s no point. So, clean his room Eijirou.’

He appreciates that they don’t offer to do it. It’s usually impossible to keep them out of their apartment, impossible to keep them from getting belligerently drunk and playing monopoly on the living room floor while blasting 2000’s hits and throwing pieces of pepperoni at each other. Impossible to not love them.

But right now, the apartment is off-limits, and they seem to understand this. And respect it. And they understand that he needs a push here, a nudge there, and a gentle shove here to get his ass moving, to do the things he’s scared of doing, the things that just need to be done anyway

Kirishima loves them, so so much.

And so, he cleans. He dusts everything, puts Bakugou’s sheets in the wash and hangs his comforter out to dry. He fluffs up the All Might plushie and makes the bed, vacuums the floor, and puts his folded laundry back where it belongs in the closet.

He finds the box when he’s reorganizing Bakugou’s hero gear drawer. It’s a black box, smooth to the touch, no bigger than Kirishima’s palm, with just 2 words printed on top.

Death Box.

Its existence isn’t shocking to Kirishima. After all, he has one of his own, tucked neatly under his hanging jackets, pushed to the very back.

A Death Box is a pro-hero thing. It’s no secret that the life of a hero is riddled with danger and that one bad day could be the end. Every pro knows this. And most pro-heroes have a Death Box.

The contents of the box vary from person to person. Some leave behind letters addressed to friends and family. Others leave wills and assets and final testaments. Some leave behind cryptic messages or dramatic last words.

Kirishima never wondered about Bakugou’s box, and Bakugou had never asked about his own. But today, 31 days after the attack, 31 days of no Bakugou, 31 days of waking up with an ache in his chest because Kirishima’s heart is literally breaking, he finds himself gently pulling the box out and sitting on Bakugou’s bed, turning it over in his hands.

It’s really simple- no patterns or designs or anything. It's black as midnight, the lettering orange. Kirishima gently pops the box open and inside lays a single pen-drive. Nothing else.

Kirishima stares at it for a long, long time. He almost puts the box back in the drawer with the pen drive safely nestled inside, he almost forgets what he ever saw, he almost acts like he’s fine.

But he’s not fine. He’s so far from fine he can’t even spell the word. And he misses his friend with a pain so sharp he feels it in his bones. So Kirishima picks the pen drive up and takes it to the laptop. He switches the system on, plugs the drive in and waits for the program to load up.

Surprisingly, it isn’t password protected. He skims over the contents briefly. There’s a folder named Will and Final Testaments that he ignores completely. There’s another folder named Personal Project that he also leaves alone. The third folder is titled for everyone, and Kirishima clicks on that.

The folder is filled with video files of varying lengths. Each video is named after a specific person, and Kirishima smiles when he sees one for Bakugou’s mom, his dad, each of the Bakusquad, one for All Might, and one for Midoriya. The Deku video is easily bigger than all the others, all except one.

Because the one titled Shitty Hair is close to 45 minutes long.

Kirishima inhales shakily, and for once, he hesitates. Because once he watches this, he knows Bakugou will well and truly kill him. These videos, this content, it’s meant to be consumed after he dies. Not when he’s in a coma, not when he’s alive and fighting for his life. Not when he’s doing his best to come back.

But here’s the thing- Kirishima isn’t watching this because he thinks Bakugou’s as good as gone. He doesn’t believe that one bit. No, Kirishima is watching this because he misses Bakugou so much, so much that his insides feel like they're shredding up into little bits and pieces, and Kirishima just wants to hear him bark out his ugly laugh, he wants to see his eyes dance with mirth, he wants to watch Bakugou dump too much chilli into the curry and wrap himself into a blanket burrito on their couch in the dead of winter, cursing the weather viciously. He never thought he’d miss the way someone said fuck so much in his life, yet here he is.

So Kirishima inhales shakily, breathes out in a whoosh and hits play.

2 years ago

Bakugou had put off recording Kirishima’s message for years.

The one to his parents was simple enough. Dad, thank you for being some kinda balance in the house, and for loving me ridiculously unconditionally. Hag, ma, we’ve always had our own issues and we love so violently, but I do love you. I always have. Thank you for making me the devil spawn I am, couldn’t have been so great if it weren’t for you.

The Bakusquad (ugh, what a dumb name) had a video each. They weren’t super long, but he loved them all, more than they’d ever know when he’s alive, and he thought they deserved to know if he ever died before getting around to drunkenly confessing it or something.

Sero, your stupid fucking jokes have made some shitty days so much better.

Jirou, you’re insanely strong and you’ve had my back on more occasions than I can count.

Mina, my girl, you’re the OG. Thank you for never giving up on me, for always pushing me to be part of the gang, for becoming my friend.

Kaminari, you’re always gonna be hella fucking stupid, but you’re my stupid friend, one of my closest buddies, and it was a pleasure knowing you.

He might actually die if they find this when he's alive, but that’s the whole point of Death Box- it's to say the things you can't when you're alive or to remind people of the things you felt after you’re gone.

Midoriya’s had been hard. Midoriya’s had been really hard.

Unpacking so many emotions, talking about the past, UA, the present; it made his blood boil but also made him immeasurably sad. After their first year, Midoriya and he had grown close. They still found it difficult to communicate like normal human beings, but they always had each other’s backs, no matter where or what. And even as pro-heroes, they worked together wonderfully, competed for #1 fiercely, pushed each other to incredible heights, and picked each other up after terrible missions.

Deku, I know so much of our past is water under the bridge for you, and that’s been great for us because it lets us have a sort of friendship. But I haven’t forgotten. I will never forgive myself and all I could do is be better.

For all the fucked up shit that we’ve been through, for how much I still get angry when I see you and how much I want to be better than you all the time, you are the brother I never had, the comrade that never left, the friend that I’ve never deserved.

Izuku, thank you. I’m sorry.

Admitting to most of these things isn’t difficultly because it’s all true. And honesty has always come easily to Bakugou. As an adult hero, he’s learned things about himself, his own feelings, his own version of love for the people around him. And he can’t bring himself to say those exact words to Izuku, but he hopes his actions (Bentos pressed into Midoriya’s hands after long patrols, sharing beers on rooftops, patching each other up after shitty missions) are message enough.

But Kirishima? How is he supposed to find the words to tell Kirishima how he feels? How much the redhead means to him? Where does he even begin?

Bakugou huffs and slaps himself on both cheeks. Kirishima is out for the day, taking Mina shopping at the mall and catching a movie with the gang, a plan Bakugou had gotten himself out of just so he could sit here, in the apartment he shares with the only person he has ever had the good fortune of being in love with, to record a final message. What a happy thought.

Bakugou thinks Fuck it, takes a seat in front of the camera, ruffles his hair, and hits record.

‘Hey Shitty Hair.’

Hey Shitty Hair.

There are handprints on Bakugou’s face. His hair is a ruffled mess, his bed is unmade behind him, and his face looks almost nervous.

Kirishima doesn’t think about any of that.

Because seeing Bakugou on-screen with his red eyes boring into Kirishima, and hearing his voice, rough and loud and well-worn feels like the first breath of fresh air the redhead has gulped down in a month. It feels like a well-placed punch to the gut, and Kirishima almost bowls over, overwhelmed beyond comprehension.

He misses him so much.

Fuck, making this video is fucking hard, I’m not even sure where to start. Also, you better not be crying like a baby Ei, I sweat to God, I might be dead, but you still need to go out there and kick ass cause someone needs to take care of all those shitty villains.

Kirishima makes an aborted sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, because this is his best friend in the entire universe, the man he knows better than he knows himself. This is his person.

Anyway, I made a bunch of other videos for all the other losers, but yours has been the biggest pain in my ass. I guess the closer you are to someone, the harder it is right?

First off, I need to say thank you. For like, so much shit. Thank you for taking those first few steps in our friendship. For constantly pestering me and inserting yourself into my life. For training with me, including me in all kinds of stupid activities, and getting me into the gang. My time at UA would never have been so fun, so memorable, so amazing without you. You made it great, despite all the shit that went wrong.

The blonde sucks in a deep breath and his eyes pierce straight through Kirishima, peering right into his soul.

We don’t talk about Kamino because there’s never been the words. Ei, I was so scared. Fuck, I was so scared I couldn’t stop shaking. And then there you were, flying above me, hand outstretched and yelling at the top of your goddamn lungs ‘Come!’ And that’s it. I knew I’d be ok. I knew I’d be just fine.

And yeah, I mean, the pros were there and maybe we could’ve figured something else out and maybe things would’ve worked out a different way. But you guys coming for me, YOU reaching out to me? It was the first time I felt like I had friends. I had comrades. I had people. Of course, my emotionally stunted ass refused to accept these feelings, but they took root then. And continued to grow.

Bakugou sighs deeply and sits back in his chair. He looks at the ceiling and continues.

I’m not sure I know what love is. As a feeling, I don’t know how to categorize when I’m feeling love and when I’m not. At least, I didn’t for the longest time.

Bakugou looks back at the camera, and Kirishima’s vision is starting to blur dangerously.

I know I love my parents, but it feels different than the love I feel for the idiot brigade. It’s different from what I feel for Izuku. And it sure as hell feels different from the love I feel for you.

Bakugou sighs again, and his face breaks into the softest smile Kirishima has ever seen and everything hurts.

A few years ago, I think weeks after we’d moved into this place, we were making breakfast and you looked me dead in the eye and said ‘I think the morning glories are trying to kill me.’ And I laughed out loud and you looked so proud of yourself and I thought, ‘Shit, Ei is such an idiot.’ That’s when it hit me.

Bakugou’s smile grows fonder.

I don’t call people by their names even in my head Ei. You were Shitty Hair for most of our first year at UA. Then you became Kirishima, and then somehow it became Kiri, and then Eijirou and then Ei. Nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody else, is the same. Not a single fucking person.

The first time I called you Ei in my head, that’s when I realized I was in love with you.

Kirishima hits pause immediately. He closes the window, safely ejects the pen drive, puts it back in the box and returns it to its spot. He shuts the laptop down, walks out of Bakugou’s room and sits on the couch in the living area, the same one they’ve passed out on countless times, the same one they bought together with their first paychecks, the same one that’s stained with coffee rings and spaghetti sauce and pepperoni grease.

He picks his phone up on autopilot and dials a familiar number.

‘Kiri?’ Mina sounds like a hot cup of coffee on a chilly Tuesday morning.

‘Please come home.’

He hears some rustling and yelling in the background before Mina says, ‘Stay right there, we’ll be over as soon as Midoriya gets here ok?’

Kirishima hums out an affirmative and hangs up. It’s time they come home.

67 days after the fight, Kirishima gets a call.

‘He’s awake.’

Red Riot is back on the streets, patrolling during the day, staying with Bakugou in the hospital at night and barely keeping his shit together. But it’s ok, it kinda works. Works well enough that he can do his job and do it well, and his friends are always there, picking up his pieces, keeping him sane.

Before Kirishima can say anything, Midoriya continues, ‘Chargebolt is almost at your location to relieve you, so go.’

He takes off running. His lungs burn and he can barely see where he’s going but he’s made this walk so many times he can do it in his sleep. He runs as fast as his legs can take him and makes them go faster.

Kirishima bursts into the hospital and takes the stairs 3 at a time. He finally gets to Bakugou’s floor and sprints to the door, and he can barely pull in enough air. He’s lightheaded, his heart is palpitating, and his vision is blurry but he slides the door open anyway.

Carmine eyes snap over to his and time just comes to a complete standstill. There are no doctors, no nurses. There’s no Bakugou Mitsuki, no beeping machines that breathe for him, no beeping machines that feed him, no white sterile walls and ugly hospital gowns. There is only Bakugou Katsuki, his bright, bright, bright eyes and a hand outstretched at Kirishima.

‘Ei-‘

And that’s it. One moment he’s standing in the doorway, the next he has Bakugou gathered in his arms, and he’s so warm and alive and it’s absolutely everything.

‘Kats,’ Kirishima mumbles. ‘Kats.’

‘Ei, if you start crying, I will smack the shit out of you.’

Kirishima’s laugh is watery. He pulls away and cups Bakugou’s face, smooshing his cheeks a little.

‘Kats, for once, shut the fuck up and let me feel my feelings. Do you have any idea how much the plants missed you?’

Bakugou’s mouth twists in a grimace but his eyes soften till they’re just liquid ruby and Kirishima falls a little more in love.

‘Just the plants?’

‘Shut the fuck up Kats.’ And Kirishima hugs him again, presses Bakugou’s face firmly into the crook of his neck. The blonde’s arms tighten around his middle, and the world feels whole again.

A week after they return from the hospital, Bakugou finds a white envelope in the morning glories, the very same ones that Kirishima had insisted were trying to kill him.

To Kats it says in Kirishima’s untidy scrawl. Bakugou puts the watering can down and picks the letter up gently, opening it with trembling hands.

Dear Katsuki,

My Death Box has a bunch of letters in them. I wrote one for mom, one for mama, one for all our friends, I wrote letters to all of them.

Yours was the hardest because even after writing and rewriting it 5 times, it was always the same- all I can write to you is a love letter.

Bakugou doesn’t read the rest, just snaps his head up and looks around wildly.

‘EIJIROU, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YO-‘

‘I love you Kats.’ Kirishima is right there, standing by the balcony door, eyes wide and hopeful. He’s wearing sweatpants low on his hips, and in each hand, he holds a mug of steaming hot chocolate spiked with chilli. Mexican cocoa. Bakugou’s favourite.

He puts the mugs down on the balcony ledge. ‘I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t remember what it’s like to not be in love with you.’

‘Eijirou-‘

‘I love you.’ Kirishima steps forward and frames Bakugou’s face with his warm, calloused hands, and smiles big. ‘What about you?’

Bakugou scoffs. ‘What do you think, Shitty Hair?’

‘Gotta hear you say it, Kats.’

‘You’re a pain in my ass.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re so annoying.’

‘I agree.’

‘Your hair still sucks.’

‘Your nose twitches when you lie.’

‘And I love you so much anyway.’ Bakugou finishes and places his hands over Kirishima’s and squeezes.

‘Don’t start crying Ei.’

‘Let me feel my feelings, Kats.’

‘I’m not kissing you if you’re covered in fucking snot.’

Kirishima laughs at that, pulling Bakugou close. ‘Your nose still twitches when you lie.’

Bakugou doesn’t deign that with a response, just smirks his trademark smirk, looks at Kirishima with those bright, bright, bright eyes and kisses him stupid.

‘Again,’ Kirishima mumbles.

Bakugou does just that.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha #my hero fanfic #kiribaku #bakushima #bnha kirishima #bakugou katsuki #bakusquad #ashido mina #sero hanta #kaminari denki #THANKS TO MY BEST FRIEND FOR NAMING THE FIC AND READING IT ONE BILLION TIMES #so this story is hurt/comfort and so much fluff #I LOVE KIRIBAKU SO MUCH ITS ABSURD #hope you enjoy :D

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