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missgeniality · 3 years

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A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this! This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy!

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods.

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning.

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold.

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity.

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully.

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.”

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?”

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation.

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?”

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious.

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well.

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight?

BTS is on your flight?

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography.

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger.

BTS who?

Biggest boyband who?

You only listen to Frank Sinatra.

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally.

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours.

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help.

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved.

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could.

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back.

Aw, you are in trouble.

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face.

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true.

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth.

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you.

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you.

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to.

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all.

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile.

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously.

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean.

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.”

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..”

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in.

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb.

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.”

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told.

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep.

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began.

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you.

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you.

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you.

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family.

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen.

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request.

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement.

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.”

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck.

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart.

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him.

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon.

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.”

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence.

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car.

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you.

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that.

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of.

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far.

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode.

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma.

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this.

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong.

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do.

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall.

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!"

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!”

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor.

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so.

But you’re not anyone else.

He isn’t just anyone.

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two.

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours.

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century.

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind.

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours.

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation.

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end.

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark.

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.”

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible.

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken.

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him.

The elevator door opens, and people walk out.

But that’s not where your attention is.

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm.

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad.

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present.

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.”

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile.

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too.

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space.

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!”

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed.

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again.

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.”

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”.

The punctuation was not vocalized.

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself.

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there?

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna.

So far, no sign of him.

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far.

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode.

And then you hear it.

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but.

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck.

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight.

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight.

“Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement.

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is.

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart.

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.”

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first.

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own.

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes. “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.”

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter.

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?”

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight.

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger.

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware.

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer.

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue.

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch.

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates.

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?”

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air.

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative.

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?”

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress.

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured.

“On your knees.” he commands.

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.”

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on.

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm.

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head.

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise.

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly.

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him.

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.”

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over.

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench.

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod.

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum.

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you.

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him.

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss.

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair.

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt.

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room.

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom.

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you.

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention.

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought.

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret.

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch.

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth.

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way.

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face.

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs.

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem.

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-”

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him.

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason.

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard.

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him.

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making.

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls.

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat.

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it.

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response.

“Go on baby, ride me.”

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better.

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!”

“That’s fucking right, only me.”

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away.

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve.

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full.

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high.

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face.

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!”

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.”

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way.

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole.

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs.

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core.

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours.

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.”

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon.

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart.

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.”

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness.

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy.

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance.

He finds none.

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go.

You inch closer.

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his.

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win.

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words.

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst.

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows. You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him.

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far.

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up.

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement.

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

Text

Love (I Can’t Forget)

Pairing: geralt x jaskier Warning(s): minor jaskier x other Rating: mature

Summary: Jaskier is quite enjoying his morning with the innkeeper's daughter when he hears the cry of a golem. He knows a contract has been put out for a Witcher and that everything should be perfectly fine. Only the contract put out was for a rock troll.

There are few things in his life that Jaskier regrets as much as his extensive knowledge of all things monsters. And not even the majority of the time, just right now on this particular day at this particular time.

He's been stuck in Hamm for three days on his way to Cintra to check in on Ciri. But there's a rock troll that's been blocking the only safe route out, chucking rocks at travellers and being a general nuisance. Rock trolls aren't much trouble otherwise, but this one is affecting trade and travel, so the town has put out for a Witcher. Judging by the chatter in town, the witcher arrived this morning. So, unable to leave and unwilling to go out and get involved with the Witcher and his business like everyone else, Jaskier has holed up with the innkeeper's daughter Penelope and he's quite enjoying himself.

Or, he was, until he heard the cry.

Because right now, he's quite happily trapped beneath layers of lace and silk, pinned between soft thighs, and all he can think of is that the contract was put out for a rock troll and that sound? that was a golem. Which means that right now, there's a Witcher thinking he's going up again a calm and peaceful creature and is very much not prepared for what he's about to find. And Jaskier is torn.

Because on the one hand, he doesn't want anyone getting hurt, especially due to miscommunication - intentional or otherwise. But on the other hand, the likelihood of Geralt being the Witcher called to deal with the problem is very high. And Jaskier doesn't want to see him.

It's been months now, close to a year since he last saw Geralt, having received no apology or even acknowledgement since the dragon hunt. Which is fine; Geralt's an asshole and he can travel alone if he likes, but if that's the way it's going to be, Jaskier simply does not want to see him. Ever again, if he can help it. But he also doesn't want to see him die.

"Fuck," he mumbles and Penelope giggles as he drops his head, hair tickling her thighs.

"Mmhm, I hope so."

Jaskier crawls out from under her skirts, running his hands up her thighs and doing his best to look apologetic. Because he is; he'd rather spend the entire afternoon making her come than face Geralt for even a second, but he can't sit idly by when the man he, regrettably, still loves could be in danger.

"I have to go," he says softly and she frowns. "I'm sorry and believe me, I would much rather stay here with you, but an old friend is in danger, I can't leave him alone."

"The Witcher?" she asks and Jaskier nods. She must have heard the cry too. "Isn't it his job to fight monsters?"

"Yes, when he's given the correct information, but that's not a rock troll out there." Penelope sighs but pushes her skirts back into place, tidying them.

"You'd better go find him then."

Jaskier dips down, pressing a brief kiss to her lips before gathering his things quickly and hurrying off to find the Witcher. He prays under his breath that it isn't Geralt, but even as he does, he finds himself looking for traces of the man. He knows Geralt's habits, knows where he'll set up camp - the people here aren't friendly enough to welcome a Witcher into their homes or even host him at the inn - and so Jaskier heads for the woods.

It takes him a remarkably short time to come across the meagre camp. Roach is tethered to a tree just a few feet from the fire pit and Jaskier's heart aches to see her. She dances excitedly and he swallows back a lump in his throat.

"Hey, girl," he whispers. "I've missed you too, but I can't stay, okay? Geralt could be in trouble." He gives her a quick pat, regretting that this will likely be their only chance to see one another.

Jaskier drops to his knees next to Geralt's pack, rummaging through it. He finds the satchel of oils first, pulling them out until he recognizes the bluish hue of elemental oil. He sets it aside and continues looking for potions. Immediately, he finds swallow and thunderbolt sitting neatly in their sheaths and his heart clenches. He grabs them both and a third vial he hopes is white rafford's and tucks them all into his pockets, turning to hurry in the direction of the fight.

It's not hard to find them. The golem is loud and Jaskier follows the sound of its roars until he almost stumbles over a log in his urgency to get to him. Geralt rolls in his direction, dodging a blow from the beast, and when he sees Jaskier, his expression sours.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Jaskier?"

Jaskier stiffens, immediately defensive. He has to bite his tongue as he crouches down next to Geralt, still keeping one eye on the golem. It seems to have lost its target for now, but Jaskier knows that won't last long.

"Rude," he retorts, "considering I'm here to rescue you." He empties his pockets, listing off the supplies as he pushes them into Geralt's hands. "I thought you might need the assistance since a golem is a lot harder to talk down than a rock troll."

He's seething now, all the anger and hurt of the last year bubbling to the surface and it takes everything in him not to cry in front of Geralt. He's always been an angry crier and he hates it. But Geralt's head jerks up and a little bit of pride peeks through the anger. Because he does know what he's doing. He pointedly ignores it, eyeing a scrape on the side of Geralt's face that will need tending to later.

"Take the thunderbolt now," he says, "don't risk going at it again without it."

Geralt scoffs but he makes no attempt to take control of the situation, letting Jaskier continue. Jaskier focuses on the golem; there's no way Geralt can get the jump on it from here, so he'll have to distract it once he's ready.

"Oil your blade," he says and Geralt eyes him suspiciously, but he's already got the rag in hand.

Once he's finished, he keeps his eyes on Jaskier, no longer waiting for a command, but skeptical of what comes next. Jaskier knows he's realized something is up or else he would have just gone after the golem again, but he's waiting, he's letting Jaskier help.

"You're not going to like this," Jaskier says, rising to his feet, "but know that I'm only doing it for you."

He darts away through the trees and he can hear Geralt yelling after him, but it's too late. He ignores him, pushing on until he hears the golem turn its attention on him. This is closely followed by an angry fuck and Jaskier knows his plan is working.

Geralt still isn't at full strength, but with a distraction, he shouldn't have trouble taking the golem down. He just needs to keep it away from him without being killed until he has the chance. It's only then, that he realizes he didn't think his plan through all the way; once again, he was too concerned about Geralt's safety to consider his own and that's proved ill for him in the past.

He trips over a root - a root! - and fumbles backward to keep out of the way, but he's expecting this to be the end. He shuts his eyes and braces himself, but just as he can feel the golem's breath on his skin, it lets out a cry and whips around to turn its anger on Geralt.

Jaskier cracks an eye open to see it swinging at Geralt, now caught up and wielding his silver sword. Jaskier sighs in relief and scrambles to get up, ensuring he hasn't lost any of the supplies he brought with him. He doesn't stick around to watch the fight, heart still hammering in his chest, instead finding himself a safe spot to look out for Geralt until he takes the golem down.

And he does, shortly now that he has the right supplies, dodging its blow and pirouetting around behind it to deal a deadly blow. The golem collapses, shaking the ground beneath it and Jaskier holds his breath as he waits for Geralt to emerge from the pile of rubble.

But he doesn't and Jaskier can stand the wait any longer so he rushes out to him. Geralt's eyes are open when he reaches him, but his eyelids droop and his breath comes in hot heavy puffs. Jaskier drops down next to him, careless of the mud and blood that soaks into his trousers.

"'M fine," Geralt mumbles, but he doesn't sit up or make any attempt to move and in Jaskier's opinion, that's not fine.

He hauls Geralt up into his arms, propping him up against his chest and pulls out the remainder of the potions he brought with him. Geralt scowls and bats his hand away.

"I didn't come all the way out here to watch you die," Jaskier tuts, "I was having a very nice morning and I'd appreciate it if I wasn't interrupted for no reason. Take the potion."

Geralt rolls his eyes like a petulant child and takes the vial from Jaskier's hand, downing it like a shot of liquor.

"See," he says, "fine." Jaskier wants to smack him.

"Get up."

It's a struggle to get Geralt to his feet and Jaskier suspects his physical injuries are worse than the exhaustion, a prospect that has his heart racing, much to his chagrin. Geralt shouldn't mean anything to him anymore and yet he can't keep himself from feeling sick at the thought of anything happening to him.

Geralt uses him for support, leaning on Jaskier's shoulders as they make their way slowly back to the camp. Geralt complains about getting the necessary proof that he killed the golem and Jaskier does his very best not to call him a fucking idiot about it. He promises, with as little irritation as he can manage, that he can return for it in the morning.

He sits Geralt next to the fire and as he crosses back to Geralt's bag to collect spare linen and salve, Roach nibbles at Geralt's hair, nudging him with her nose. Jaskier smiles softly at her worry, he can understand it well; Geralt all but left him for dead, and here he is pulling him out of danger and bandaging his wounds like nothing has changed.

When he returns to him, Geralt has two of the clasps on his armour undone, but he can't reach the third and he's frowning at it. Jaskier sets the linen down with the rest of his supplies and sighs softly.

"Let me."

Geralt remains silent as Jaskier unstraps his armour and pulls his shirt up over his head. He's bruised mostly, but there are a few fresh wounds including one that spans nearly his entire stomach. There are a few scars he doesn't recognize, too, and Jaskier doesn't want to think about what caused those.

He cleans his wounds first, then wipes down the rest of his torso, relieved to find most of the gunk on him is not actually blood.

Once he's finished his work, he leaves Geralt to get dressed and gathers more wood for the fire. He lights it with bits of flint from Geralt's pack and while the smaller branches begin to crackle, Jaskier sets about finding something for them to eat. He's never been very good at hunting - that was always Geralt's job when they travelled together - but he knows his plants and with what he still has in his pack, he fixes something up for them. Not that he feels much like eating.

It's not until Jaskier is about to leave that Geralt finally speaks. Jaskier is just on the edge of sleep, exhausted from worry and the effort it takes to be so close to Geralt right now and he very nearly misses it.

"Why did you do that?"

"What part?" Jaskier asks.

"Risk your life. For me."

"I had to. I couldn't just let you die because someone was too stupid to know the difference between a rock troll and a golem."

"I'm impressed that you knew."

Jaskier's stomach does a little flip-flop and he curses himself for being so weak. "I learned from the best," he quips. "But you should sleep. I'll come back to check on you in the morning."

There's a long silence as he gathers his things and then, "Stay?" Geralt asks and Jaskier's heart clenches.

He wants to. Gods, he wants to. To lie down next to him and look up at the stars like he always has and to fall asleep to the crackling of the fire and the faint sounds of Geralt breathing next to him. But he shouldn't. That part of his life is behind him now and Geralt made it very clear that he doesn't want him around. This was just a means to an end; he couldn't with any good conscience, let a Witcher die on bad information. Even if that Witcher is the same one who broke his heart on a mountaintop so many months ago.

"I miss listening to you sing while I rest," he says and Jaskier's legs shake under him.

"You.. do?"

"Mm, I didn't realize how much I appreciated it until it was gone."

Jaskier stands still, unable to think through the rush of blood in his ears. He was angry and hurt and spiteful for a long time, but maybe it's time to let go of all that.

"Alright," he breathes.

He tries to remain calm as he can because he knows Geralt can tell when he's not. He can hear the sound of Jaskier's traitor heart and the way his breath comes just a little too fast. And he'll know what it means, the insufferable git. But in the end, it doesn't matter because Jaskier will always choose him over anyone.

He lays down in the dirt, folding his arms back to rest his head on - he's already covered in muck and Geralt's blood, what's a little more dirt? - and he sings. It's not an active choice, but he sings a love song. It's a lovely little tune, not one of his own, but one he's always been fond of, and as he sings, he closes his eyes and lets the warmth of the fire wash over him, remembering the nights when this was a common occurrence. Geralt is quiet, apparently genuine in his desire to hear him sing and Jaskier isn't quite sure what to make of that.

When he finishes, he thinks Geralt is asleep and he settles as well as he can against the rocky ground. He's tired enough that he could fall asleep anywhere, but then Geralt goes and opens his mouth again

"I looked for you," he says, "at first." Jaskier doesn't know how to respond, but Geralt doesn't seem to want a reply and he continues. "I knew what I said was wrong and I knew I'd hurt you so I tried to find you. You must have made it down the mountain before me. I was angry about what happened with Yen, I didn't mean it."

"I know," Jaskier whispers and he does. He realized a long time ago that he was not the intended target of Geralt's rage, but it didn't help to heal the wounds and it didn't bring him back. He's not sure what else to say and his heart beats too fast.

"Come here," Geralt says softly, shifting slightly to make space for him under the blanket.

Jaskier moves to lie next to him and Geralt pulls him close, wrapping an arm around him. Jaskier presses his nose into Geralt's shoulder, burying his face so Geralt can't see the emotion it betrays. He smells off, tangy, like blood and it makes Jaskier's chest tight.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'll be fine."

It's not a good answer, but Geralt tips his head down, burying his nose in Jaskier's hair and it's good enough. Jaskier presses closer, allowing himself this small bit of comfort.

In the morning, he wakes with Geralt's cloak over him, but Geralt himself is gone. As he rises to his feet, Jaskier realizes that Roach is still there, grazing happily at the edge of their camp and that means Geralt couldn't have gone far. He doesn't know how welcome his company will be, so he waits for Geralt to come back, but when he doesn't Jaskier starts to worry and he goes after him. It doesn't take long to find him.

Geralt is sitting on the edge of the forest, looking out over the town though they're far enough away that no one looking would notice them. Jaskier drapes his cloak around his shoulder and sits down, just slightly behind him.

"I thought about you," Geralt admits, "just before you showed up."

"Oh."

"I didn't think I'd see you again. I didn't want to die knowing you hated me."

"I don't," Jaskier says a little too quickly, "hate you. I can't, I tried. I was angry at you for a very long time and I was hurt for even longer, but I could never hate you." I love you too much for that.

"I have a... habit of saying things to you that I regret. Twice now I've nearly lost you for good and our last words would have been unpleasant."

"Twice?" Jaskier asks.

"Mm. The djinn."

"Right." Jaskier doesn't remember much about the djinn incident - it was fairly traumatic for him - but he does remember Geralt wishing for peace and quiet and saying some awful things about his singing voice. He mentions it, a little of the bitterness bleeding through.

"I didn't mean that either," Geralt swallows, "you have a beautiful voice." That voice fails him now as his stomach twists into a knot.

"Why now?" he asks because that's all that will come out.

"I miss you. I miss your company and seeing you again," he sighs like it's the most difficult thing he's ever had to say. Jaskier forgives him for that because this is already more than Geralt has said to him in a long time. "It makes me realize I was wrong before." He pauses again and Jaskier waits, nearly breathless. "I didn't actually expect you to leave."

"Then what did you expect?" he snaps, "Geralt I've put up with so much of your shit and I've stuck by you despite it. But you told me you didn't want me, that I was a nuisance, that I-" he turns and Geralt is right there. His words stick on his tongue and his throat goes dry.

"You're not a nuisance," he says and Jaskier nods dumbly. He looks at him and he can see how hard this is for Geralt to even get out this much and it's better than he was expecting. Anything else they can work out later if Geralt was genuine about wanting him around. Jaskier opens his mouth to speak to offer a compromise, but Geralt interrupts him.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he says, "I didn't want to, I wasn't thinking."

"Geralt-"

"You're important to me, Jaskier. And you saved my life yesterday," his lips quirk just so and Jaskier stares for a moment, trying to figure out if he's really seeing this.

"You never were very good at taking care of yourself," Jaskier shrugs. "You should have someone to look after you. Someone who knows something about these monsters you hunt."

Geralt huffs a soft laugh but says nothing, meeting Jaskier's eyes and holding his gaze. He tips his head to one side and Jaskier can feel the breath catch in his throat because Geralt is so close and it's been so long. He doesn't move, afraid to disturb the peace between them, but Geralt leans in, closing the space between them and cupping Jaskier's face in his palm. Their noses bump together, then Geralt's lips brush against his own so faintly he thinks he imagined it. But when he doesn't pull away, Geralt kisses him properly, leaning into it. Jaskier lets himself be drawn forward, lost in the press of Geralt's lips against his own. He hums softly as an arm winds around his waist, bringing him closer, and when Geralt breaks the kiss, he presses their forehead together.

"I know it's not fair," he breathes, "to ask you to come back after the things I said to you, but I want to make amends. Tell me how to fix this."

"Come back to the inn with me," Jaskier breathes, "I'll talk to the innkeeper, get you a room - or you could stay with me?" he's still a little hesitant, but this is Geralt. "We can talk about what comes next after a bath and some supper."

"Will you join me?"

"In the bath?" Jaskier stutters and he can see the flush that creeps across Geralt's cheeks.

"I didn't mean -" he starts, before glancing down at Jaskier's muddy trousers. "But if you want-?" Jaskier barely remembers to breathe, but he settles himself.

"Supper first," he says, "then we'll see about a bath." Jaskier smiles at him and Geralt smiles back, and for the first time in a long time, he finds himself looking forward to whatever comes after.

#geraskier #post-mountain #rex writes

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ffeynn · 3 years

Note

Hihi! If possible, can I ask for some fluffy headcanons for Kazuha and Albedo with a very shy but sweet/angelic fem! s/o who has a tendency to downplay her amazing artistic abilities please? Thank u and please take care of yourself!!

「 shy, sweet!s/o who’s too humble with her abilities: kazuha and albedo 」

a/n: :(((( anonnnn sorry for taking so long to post, actually I've already finished this a long time ago but I didn't post it :((( idk where im going with this and take care of yourself too!

pairing: kaedahara kazuha, albedo x reader (seperates)

↬ when kazuha first saw your art, he was surprised by how much you underestimate it. he genuinely thought your art is a piece sent from the celestia, that and there’s a slight bias on the opinion. although you never seemed to favor showing your arts to the public.

☆ “dearest, must I say how beautiful your art is? because I think you’re having a different opinion than me.” he saw the way your ears reddened after hearing his compliment. you put your sketchbook over your face, only letting the eyes show, “you’re too nice kazuha, my art is nothing beautiful.” so you said.

he almost sighed when you downplayed your ability yet again, well as your lover, kazuha is more than pleased to assist you in gaining more confidence. he wouldn’t want to see his favorite artist feels bad about her own art as kazuha loves it.

↬ the poet loves to admire your art, he loves to watch you drawing, he loves to see you get shy when you noticed he was staring at you as you quickly hide your drawing. so by no means does he love watching you be proud of your own art with a bright smile on your face despite it rarely happening.

☆ you peeked from your sketchbook to see kazuha staring back at you, your eyes scurried from him to your sketch of him and back to him. “ah! it’s.. you look beautiful there so I thought.. I want to draw it, sorry.”

the light haired warrior stayed still at his spot and with a voice that seemed softer than ever to your ears, he said, “it’s alright, I rather would like to see how my love perceives me, you wouldn’t mind that right?” his words received your usual bright smile as a response. to smile that bright just because of his selfish request, you were too sweet for this world.

↬ kazuha appreciates that you’re letting him go through your sketchbook but how should he explain the way his heart beat flutters with each drawing of him. you who’s in front of him looks like she wants to cry from embarrassment the time you realized that there were many drawings of your lover in said book.

☆ “ah.. so this is how you see me.. I’m honoured.” kazuha let a smile up his face. did you cast magic in this drawing? if not then why can he feel your love from your drawing?

you were sitting beside him, enduring the embarrassment you feel every time he compliments your art. yet you can sense he was genuine about it and you are happy with it. “no, that’s just a drawing.. the way I see you is much more blinding than words or pencils can describe, because I love you.” after saying that, you immediately put your forehead on kazuha’s shoulder. looking at the pretty ground while your boyfriend chuckles.

↬ in knowing that you’ve such artistic abilities, albedo was proud of you. but that wasn’t the case for you. he wonders why you tend to downplay your art when in fact it’s one of the best in mondstadt. maybe in teyvat as a whole but the man has no way to know that with his piled up works. you’re his lover who he so much adores, akin to an angel some had said.

☆ albedo glanced at your drawing figure before shortly continuing his experiment with a smile barely visible on his face. you probably had noticed his mood shifting, that’s the reason you asked him if something good happened. “I was just looking at you.” the male said as he noted something in his experiment. whether you figure out what he was implying behind his words are up to you.

and judging from your gradually reddening face, you figured it out.

↬ sometimes when albedo has free times, you two will take a walk around mondstadt and if spotted a pretty scenery, you’ll stop by to rest there. maybe whip out a sketchbook and leave trails of the view on a paper with a pencil. view of the nature, of the creatures around it and also view of your lover.

☆ you tugged on albedo’s shirt, pointing at the tree nearby. it’s pretty big and able to act as a shade from the sun’s light. there were also flowers growing scattered. a nice place to rest and sketch without any disturb. albedo doesn’t seem to have any reason to deny which led them under said tree.

arriving there and going through your bag, you just realized you forgot to bring your sketching tools. a shame really. the alchemist decided that his next art should be you considering how long it has been since you both had the chance to leisure around like this. you who have nothing to do instead of playing with your boyfriend’s hair, excitedly did up a natural pose. albedo’s drawing is your favorite in the whole universe and every time you see yourself on someーmore than half actuallyーcanvas of his, you’ll always be immensely touched by that.

↬ you don’t really favor showing your art to others which explained why you usually draw somewhere closed off or where people rarely visit. or maybe you just draw in your room. albedo frequently catches you in an action of observing your current process. a coloured canvas in front of you, one hand holding the palette and one hand the brush.

☆ the alchemist also frequently catches you in an action of sleeping with your favorite pencil in hand and your sketch beside your sleeping face. possibility that you were waiting for him to come home until you fell asleep. albedo feels guilty for having you wait for him that long but he also wants to be selfish and relish the fact that you waited for him.

he slipped his arms under your back and knees, carefully lifting you up from the uncomfortable position you were in. once he put you on the bed, albedo took his time cleaning up the desk. the male turned to look at the drawing you were making just now. ah, this was during your second date, he recognized. did you draw this based on pure memory or what? nevertheless the answer, albedo will still find himself become amused of your arts. let it be then you tend to downplay your ability, he’ll just do his part to let you gain more confidence in your ability. his sweet lover deserved to do so.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #kaedehara kazuha x reader #albedo x reader #fey.invites

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lovenona · 3 years

Text

“SONGS FROM THE LYRE”

or – the odyssey, interlude ii

“what, you don’t believe me?” toji’s voice is syrup and honey against your eardrum. “you’ll believe whatever an old man with yellow teeth tells you about the fabled sukuna, but not me?”

he bites your neck, playful, and you giggle against him, a light and airy sound. it sings like wind-chimes against summer rain, and you float with the noise, float with him as he nips at your skin.

“i didn’t say that,” you say, but your voice is too unconvincing when fushiguro toji’s disheveled hair tickles your jawline. his hands play with your waist, thumbprints pressing against your hips: and how can you answer his questions in such a state? how are you supposed to maintain your calm?

“i said,” you manage in between bouts of laughter, of soft and precious moans, “that i’ve never even heard that serpent speak, and i’m near it just as much as you are.”

(even now, it swims circles in the corner of the room, oblivious to your antics. you have long since grown used to the idea that this serpent has seen enough of you to last a lifetime.)

“he’s just scared of you,” toji argues, but his voice is too unconvincing when his tongue is licking stripes across your collarbone as if he’ll never devour anything as enticing as your body again. you tug mindlessly at his hair, running the coarse strands between your fingertips like sand and diamonds. today, toji smells like the sea, like danger, like wine. you know this because you shared it all with him. you know this because if you saw yourself in a looking-glass your mouth would be stained with drink, with toji, with thunder.

toji drags his lips from your collarbone back to your jaw as he plants his garden with a gentle kiss. “he doesn’t like to talk when others are around. but trust me, i know. i’ve always heard it. how do you think i found him in the first place?”

you eyelids flutter shut beneath toji’s ministrations. you are warm, you think, and perfectly content, even if you know that toji’s bed against the open window will never be a real home to you. but here, mindlessly indulged, it is enough.

“mhmm,” you say, because you are more than willing to believe anything fushiguro toji tells you. “the serpent talks, i’m sure.”

“he does. some things in this world exist differently than we do. if anyone should know that, it’s you.”

you know there is some truth to his statement. but lost in the sensation of toji’s calloused hands playing games between your legs, you do not have it in you to argue about it further. you do not have the strength to challenge his words.

so you say instead, breathless, eyes full of the moon: “tell me more.” and, eyes alight with mirth and pleasure and stardust, he does.

––

not everyone is the same: not everyone lives powerless. there are those, you see, who hide in shallow coves and windless waters, who do not understand what it means to be alive. there are those who saw stars burn and those who will watch cliffsides crumble. they will not live, but they will not die, so they wallow in darkness.

and of course, among them, lie creatures of night and hurt and seduction. you know them easily by sight and smell: sirens from the deep who emerge from the shallows to offer their scaled hands in marriage. they peer at you with large and intrusive eyes, searching for the soul they lost long ago.

everyone knows they were once human. but, as they say, something precious has been stolen away that can never be returned. something has been taken from those lost corpses of the deep, something that has rendered them different and strange and unknowable, until they sing their long and sorrowful lamentations of a love that could have been, of a love that will never be, until they sing for the mortality they left behind.

they do not know what it means to be alive. and they do not like you, breathing creature of the sand. if you chance upon one, perhaps you should hate them too: hatred for their pain, hatred for their fury.

(but it is difficult, is it not? to remain heartless in the face of a gentle tragedy?)

once, long ago, a young siren, brittle and strange, lived on the rocks of a desolate coast. day by day he peered out into the open expanse of a midday sky like he could find his missing past waiting for him there. he could not speak: he could only listen. and when he tried to tell of his woes, to ask for food and love and assistance, he found himself cursed by the gods’ tongue. all he told to die would do it. all he told to starve for his sake would do it. all he told to stay with him would do it. but even those who stayed loyal to him could not feed on the salty air, so they too would leave, their bodies damp and cold and still.

the young siren did not understand why he had changed. he could recall a face, cunning and cruel, that once peered down upon him as he slept. he could recall a cold hand on his throat, icy and frozen with the absence of a heart. but what he could not recall was the time, or the place, or the name. he knew he had changed and that he was no longer alive. so he sat upon his desolate rocks on the desolate coast and let himself stare into oblivion.

he waited for his lostness to be returned to him. but all those he asked could never find it. and so he waits, still, with his eyes forever fixed on the horizon.

there are others, too, who live bonded by the cold hand of fate. there are those who linger and should not speak: a ruffled panda on a humid coast who searches for his master, a young man with his heart standing both in and out time. there are those who must have committed an egregious error in a past life to end up so alone. there are those who have sinned from power and now sit in lonely coves as they wait for lovers to take them. there are those who are cursed to watch time pass but to never feel it themselves, to rot within the godliness they alone thought they had attained.

the curses of the sea were human, once. they all were. but water and anger and fate created entities that could not speak enough or could not speak at all. they are no longer us, but something else, immortal and bitter and wasted. those curses would like to be freed; they would like to go home. but, as they say, something has been stolen away from them that can never be returned.

(do they wait forever for release? they must. they wait, ghosts of the ocean, sirens of the sea, until something will drag them back under.)

––

“wake up,” someone tells you, “it’s time.”

you do not know if you would like to listen to the voice. you are plagued with an impeccable sadness that turns your body to lead. you think there is something, a forgotten history perhaps, that has eluded you with the grace of a rabbit. there lies a rock in your throat, tears in your eyes.

what were you dreaming? and why are you crying?

(there was a fire, a burning heart. there was blood. there were faces you swore you would protect. there was a molten man with fire in his eyes who dressed your wounds and cured you. you decide to discard the feeling.)

instead, now, a midday sun sits heavy on your eyelids. you open them, slowly, and you do not immediately recognize this rowboat as your own. you do not seek to recognize these arms which cradle you, this self you must have become while your mind was away. it must all be a story, isn’t it? these faces on your memory?

the water is shallow, clear, impossibly blue. you must be far from the malevolent shrine, you reckon, although you cannot find the strength to turn back and look for it. it does not matter. something tells you this four-armed man will tell you where you need to go. something tells you that you can trust him.

(i will cure you, you remember he said, although you do not want to. and then i will make sure it never happens again. i will give you power.)

he swiftly maneuvers the boat into a large and lonely cove. anticipation dances in the air, a warm and welcoming breeze that whispers among the lush trees which litter the mountain beyond the beach. the boat slows as you sail towards the sand, navigate through the smooth rocks and boulders dotting the water.

but, to your horror, you realize you have been here before. and it had not been in an old dream, because the details are much too vivid to shy away from. you know that you have seen this idyllic place, this narcissus pool, once before. because you know, when you turn your head and find the lonesome figure waiting for you on a smooth and pensive boulder, that you would fall into the endless expanse of those bright blue eyes again.

(so they wait, ghosts of the ocean, tragic sirens who wish for sand.)

the four-armed man rows closer. and just beyond, sitting on the boulder, he waits.

#the odyssey!#toji x reader #sukuna x reader #fushiguro.toji #ryomen.sukuna #jjk x reader

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

Text

Baklava

Authors note

This is supposed to be timeless. So it could take place in a modern setting or around season 4 … or whatever actually but Finn is at least 15 or so.

It’s very fluffy, be prepared for teeth rotting sweetness

Finn x female reader, the reader is female, Muslim and of Arabic heritage

I really love baklava and Turkish food, but I know baklava are not just Turkish food, many other countries have similar dishes or variations of this dish

It’s a little haltering… I’m sorry, I’m not getting used to write in the x reader style, especially in english, but I hope you still like it.

Warning: the reader thinks that somebody followed her

You were wandering around in the same five streets after a fight with you parents. Usually you wouldn’t run off, but this time was different. You just couldn’t stay home anymore. Just some time off was all you needed.

But then it turned dark and suddenly you realized you got lost. You lived just for a few months in Small Heath and until now you have never been out in the dark of these streets.

After a while you just sat down on a bench, starring at the other side of the canal. It was pointless, you thought. You wouldn’t find your way home until the sun was rising again.

Then you heard steps behind you. Your heart was racing. You peeked over your shoulder and whimpered. There was a guy with a flat cap coming closer and closer.

That was not a good sign for you. So you stood up and hurried away the opposite direction. Not actually knowing where you went.

But the steps behind you didn’t disappeared, they became fast. Now, you know that guy was following you. So you began to run. The fear made your head empty. You kept looking behind you.

“Your… your headscarf is coming off!” the guy yelled twice until you noticed what he said.

Again you peeked over your shoulder, but this time you needed to know who that was, because that voice did sound familiar. Your hands tapped the back of your head, just to become aware that this stranger said the truth. Your hijab was coming off. In the midst of this chaos you still kept walking. Looking back, that might not be the smartest idea, as you stumbled over something lying on the ground.

You had fallen straight into the dirt and your knees hurt as well. When the pain finally faded, you tried to get up on your feet. But suddenly there was a helping hand, which pulled you up.

Your eyes followed the hand to the origin and you were quite surprised to recognize a class mate. Now you were standing, but you pulled the hand way up to fixate your hijab, so it would fall down completely.

“I’m sorry”, was the first thing he said. On his lips was an apologetic smile. “I really didn’t mean to scare you.” He scratched his neck and shrugged.

But you needed a little more explanation than that, so you waited until he added: “It was just… I saw you sitting there and I thought you might need help, and then you run away from me… and then your headscarf became lose.”

You were still pretty aware of your panic just moments before. A shy nod was all you could do right now.

Of course, you knew him and Finn Shelby didn’t seem like a bad person, but there were certain rumors about his family. From far you didn’t recognize him. Just now you remembered his name.

“Wait”, he said and fumbled in the pockets of his jacket. “I still could be of some assistance. Sometimes I still have a safety pin in my pockets.”

With a big and heartwarming smile he pulled out just what you needed now.

He handed it you and you mumbled: “Thank you” while putting the pin in the fabric of your hijab.

Now that everything was back in place, you felt relieved. Maybe the world wasn’t as bad as you always thought. The guy didn’t want to chase you and turned out to be helpful.

“You’re y/n, right?” he asked “I saw you in class”

Then you even smiled a little. “Yes, that sounds possible.”

“And your dad owns the bakery down the street.” He noted with a grin on his freckled face. Even in the little light from the street lamp you could see his freckles. You thought they looked cute on him.

But you hated to be reminded of your parents again. You still were angry at them. So you just answered: “Yes, that might be my dad.”

His eyes lit up and with such a glee he proclaimed: “I love these sweet little treats.”

You raised an eyebrow and laughed. “You mean baklava?”

“Yes!” he replied: “They are so delicious. I could eat em all day.”

He was so sweet. It really warmed your heart. After all and even when your dad wasn’t your favorite person right now, you could eat loads of baklava as well. Your laugher filled the street, but then when you managed to calm down, you agreed: “They are so good.”

“And what’s the book about? The one you have been reading the past few weeks now.” He said and again, you were surprised how fast he could change the topic completely.

Your cheeks burned in shameful heat. When you were reading back in class, you thought nobody would notice you, as you were always so quiet. Now, you knew somebody did notice you and he was also pretty cute.

“It’s just a collection of poems, but they are not written in English…. So you wouldn’t understand them.” You answered while rubbing your hands on your fabric. Somehow you became nervous, but you didn’t know why.

Then he asked: “Do you have a favorite one?”

This question made you think. You knew all of the poems in the book, because you had read it over and over again. To pick just one was pretty hard.

“There is one about flowers in summer.” You mumbled after a while of thinking

Finn nodded as he had thought about that possibility too. “Maybe you can tell me how it goes one time. I’m not much of a reader, but I love to listen.”

You bit your lip and stared at the ground. The thought of reading a poem to someone seemed so intimate to you, but reading it to him would be so sweet as well. Just lying under a tree or sitting on a bench in the sunlight and reciting poems always have been your favorite dream. So you just said: “Maybe”

“But what are you doing here anyway? Isn’t it a little late for a lady to walk around town?”

Again he was right. You shouldn’t be here and you knew it so well. “I got lost on the way home”, you explained and signed.

“Then…”, he suggested: “Let’s bring you home.” But he didn’t move an inch.

With blinking eyes you registered, that he didn’t know where you lived. “Just back to the bakery. My family lives over the shop.”

Now he nodded and held out his hand for you to take. It took you a second, but after some time to consider, you decided to lay your hand into his.

The walk back to the bakery was delightful. You finally got warm with him and asked him some questions as well. He was a lot funnier than you thought, but also very kind. After you had seen his brothers, you were scared of the Shelby’s, but Finn seemed to be alright.

When you arrived at your door, you let go of his hand. Somehow you were afraid that your family could see you and then they would just ask all kinds of wrong questions. “That was fun”, you remarked: “We should do this sometime again.”

With a smile he accepted this invitation. “That would be awesome.”

You went to the door to get inside, when he stopped you one last time. “You still have some dirt on your cheek”, he noted and took his sleeve to brush it of very gently. The fabric tickled your nose, so you laughed… and he had to laugh with you, because your laughter was warm and filled with joy.

“Thank you”, you whispered and realized how close the two of you were all the sudden. It was so easy to diminish the distance between you. You didn’t thought at all, when you kissed him. It just happened. He was so sweet and caring and so was the kiss.

With the glimpse of a second it was over. His head was all red and you face felt so steamy as well. “Then good night…”, you mumbled: “See you soon.”

You rubbed your face a couple of times, to get rid of the heat that radiated from your cheeks. When you entered the house, you were a little scared your parents might notice it, but they didn’t. They were just so relieved you came back. They though you ran off, but then you told them, the truth… minus Finn Shelby and how he helped you. Your parents wouldn’t understand this.

Somedays after this incident you sent a package to him to say thank once again. But you didn’t know… When he opened the little brown package with the baklava inside, that he was so flushed, even his brothers noticed it and of course they had to mock him, for getting his first girlfriend. Finn was so happy, he didn’t listen to his brothers at all. He just knew the present was yours, because you drew a sun and a flower on the card and not your name, but the message was clear. And the baklavas were the best he has ever had.

#finn shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fucking blinders #finn shelby x you #finn shelby x reader #harry kirton

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djmarinizelablog · 3 years

Note

Hello! It's me again, your fellow Katipunera. Thank you so much for actually doing a short of my request and omg tibak Hange is just so fitting! 🥺 I hope you actually turn it into a full-length fic eventually, I can just imagine Hange teaching Levi different constellations as they stargaze at the PAG-ASA observatory lol. Again, many thanks and stay safe always! 🌻

Felt some sort of motivation to continue this fic, and since it's @levihanweek, I wanted to write something in a college setting, so here we go:

Day 1: School

(Read the first part here.)

He doesn’t know when it all started, how it happened. Hange draws him towards her by inviting him to more of these gatherings. The non-rallies. The post- or pre-processing for the protests. It’s informational, she says, something that classes could never teach them. And all he can do is listen and follow along.

They reserve a room on campus, one hidden from plain view, and Hange stands there in front in her plain black tee and baggy jeans, her flip flops a signature element to her outfit. A small crowd has gathered beforehand, waiting for what she has to say. Going up the small platform in the room, she balls her right hand into a fist in front of her audience, raises it up high, and begins her talk.

“The March for Science is a protest on behalf of the scientific and the marginalized community,” she says, reminding everyone that “no farmers, no food,” and “just the facts, bitches.” She elicits a few giggles from the younger audience, and that’s how Levi knows Hange’s got them hooked.

The people are intrigued by her speech, and there is a certain curiosity in their eyes with the way they burn bright. For Levi, politics was always something he didn't dare venture into and would rather leave things to his uncle who had a seat in the government. He wonders if there really is something worth fighting for in these kinds of issues. If there’s something worth standing up for. Or if it’s merely just Hange being Hange that sparks the interest of people.

When the meeting is over, he’s about to head for the exit, but Hange comes up to him. “What do you think?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Could go a little bit softer with the dissent, but shit, you do you.”

Hange laughs, thinks it’s a joke. It’s only the two of them left in the room now. She puts her hands in her pockets. “Wanna have lunch with me?”

“Why?”

"I just feel like having some company right now. Besides, it’s National Resilience Day."

"I don't give a shit about the date," he says, making a mental note to remember that it is, indeed, National Resilience Day. He really doesn’t know how Hange has an inkling to know these kinds of obscure events. In the silence, his stomach betrays him with a gurgling sound, much to Hange’s amusement. “I guess I don’t mind grabbing something to eat.”

Truth be told he doesn’t like eating at the public cafeteria. It’s too open, too messy, and the busboys who collect the empty plates from the tables are terrible when it comes to waiting—last time he stayed there, Levi was still finishing up his meal when someone swiped his plate from him. Now he’d rather dine elsewhere. Perhaps in fancier restaurants that he can somehow afford with the weekly allowance that his uncle provides him.

But Hange doesn’t take him there.

She takes it a notch above his expectations when she brings him to the public food carts where vendors are selling street food of all kinds. Levi can hear the sizzling of fish balls getting deep-fried in a wok, the crackling of hot oil, the clinking of coins being exchanged in transaction. One of the vendors is basting the meat sticks in sweet sauce, flipping the skewers once in a while, the smell of barbeque wafting through the air.

“I go here ‘cause it’s cheap and it helps the small business owners,” Hange explains as she orders them the so-called combo meals. He offers to pay nevertheless, but Hange dismisses it, saying it’s her treat—for tagging him along to these talks. She continues to explain the plight of the vendors: “Some days they need assistance, so they allow students to take over the stalls and sell their food on behalf of them for a day or two.”

“What kind of students would do that? It’s disgusting to be under the heat of the sun all day.” He blurts out without really thinking, but thankfully, Hange’s not the slightest offended.

In fact, she seems to understand where he’s coming from. “One day, maybe you’ll see.”

When their meals are ready, Hange shoves one of the plates into his hands. He frowns. “You don’t eat cheese sticks?” she asks him.

“Never tried.”

“Oh, boy.” Hange smirks at him. “This will change your life.”

Instead of heading to the cafeteria, she proposes to take him someplace else. They’re sitting cross-legged on a bench in front of the academic oval, watching people run across the grassy field. Hange waves a hand at someone and Levi recognizes Moblit from their other class. He has never really done this before, just watching, observing from a distance. Except when he’s with her.

Hange takes another piece of cheese stick from the paper plate of instant stir-fry noodles. They’re running out of fish balls on the side. He likes what he’s had so far, even the sauce that goes along with their meals.

"So what are you taking?" Hange asks him while munching on her food.

He twirls his fork on the plate so he can scoop the remaining noodles. "Communications." Hange guffaws, and he’s offended. "What's so funny?"

Hange tries to compose herself and proceeds to dip her cheese stick into the honey mustard. "No, it's just that… for someone who's so awfully high-strung and silent and, uh, non politically-involved, you don't strike me as the type of person who would be… communicative."

Her conclusion does make sense. Most students studying Communication are lively, energetic, and talkative. Needless to say, he’s none of those.

"I don't imagine myself to be a reporter. I imagine myself writing articles for print. Editing. Proofreading. Stuff like that."

"I see.” She stares into the sunset, and Levi does the same. There are trees all around them, the honking of cars on the main road, the clamor of barkers and passengers alighting the public vehicles, the nuances of their campus life.

Somehow, it makes him feel safe.

Hange proceeds to tell him about how she likes to stargaze at night, because the constellations are so much clearer from this point of view in their university field. He has an inkling that it’s her way of inviting him to stargaze with him some other time. He already likes the idea a lot, but he feels like he still wants to get to know her even better.

“Why are you into all of this?” he can’t help but ask her. “What makes you think your anger can solve the nation's problems?”

It’s a very loaded question, one that really makes Hange think. She doesn’t speak for a while and proceeds to finish her food. He allows her the silence between them. Maybe he should have been a little bit nicer. A little less aggressive.

"Our very own Father President refuses to put medical science before politics. Everyone should be a supporter of science, you know? We all should listen to the scientists."

He scoffs. “Easy for you to say. It’s hard to believe what’s true and what isn’t nowadays.”

Their plates are now empty, and Levi takes hers so he can throw it in the nearest trash can. When he comes back, he sits beside her once again, this time, closer.

"I care about science and evidence-based policies, not the nonsense that politicians say,” Hange tells him while staring at the sunset. After a few seconds of silence, she faces him. “What about you?"

Levi finds the strength to hold her gaze. "I care about the untarnished truth."

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years

Text

Camping Surprises–Zac Efron

Wattpad Request by ru_ruva

Work lately has been crazy. I've been working as an assistant for a top editor at a fashion magazine in Beverly Hills for three years. My boss has promised me that once I've worked for her for five years, I'll be promoted to an editing job. Plus, it kind of helps that I'm dating the famous actor, Zac Efron.

Zac and I had been dating for two years under the radar before our secret got out. He had wanted at least one part of his life to be for just him and me. My boss and his fans only found out about us after our anniversary dinner was interrupted by the paparazzi.

When my boss found out, she completely changed her attitude towards me. The next year, she started listening to me in meetings, agreeing with my suggestions, and treating me like a human being. She acted like this new found attitude towards me wasn't because I was on magazine covers with Zac, but she and I both knew she was lying.

Since Zac and I went public with our relationship, we haven't had much time to ourselves. It's been a year since our secret got out and things have only begun to pick up. We can't go out without getting recognized which means we can't even have a meal without being bombarded by fans, reporters, or paparazzi. Sometimes all three.

I walked into our apartment, my shoulders, back, and feet killing me. I tossed my keys into the bowl on the table by the door, dropped my bag onto the floor, kicked off my shoes, and hung up my jacket. I ran my fingers through my hair as I walking into the other room. I plopped onto the couch, the long day weighing me down.

I hadn't noticed I had fallen asleep on the couch until I felt someone tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. I let out a sleepy moan as my eyes fluttered open. I smiled when I saw Zac sitting on the ground in front of me, his face inches from mine.

"Morning," he whispered. I hummed as he continued to run his fingers through my hair. "What time did you get home?"

"A little after 7," I mumbled.

"Seven?" He repeated. "That's later than normal."

"Well," I sighed, "next month's issue is due to the printer by Thursday instead of Friday because of the holiday. Which means this is going to be a late week."

"I'm sorry," he said under his breath. "I hate how hard she works you."

I just shrugged and closed my eyes as I focused on the feeling of Zac playing with my hair.

"What about you?" I mumbled sleepily. "You're home later than usual."

"Yeah," he sighed.

The sound of exhaustion in his voice made me open my eyes. My heart sank when I saw the bags under his eyes. I sat up and pulled him so he was next to me. I smiled as he immediately laid his head on my thigh.

I started playing with his hair, feeling his breathing slow. I grabbed the remote and turned on a random show. We sat like that, not saying anything, and just enjoyed each other's company.

"Do you ever wish our lives were normal?" He asked, breaking the silence. I looked down to see his eyes still closed.

"Actually, no."

He turned his head up towards me and opened his eyes. "Really?" He asked. "You never wish we were different?"

"No," I smiled down at him as I moved some hair out of his face. "Because if we were normal, we wouldn't be who we are. We might not have met and I hate even the idea of that."

Zac reached up and cupped my cheek, pulling me down to him. I smiled as I pressed my lips to his and immediately started moving them in sync. He broke the kiss and sighed.

"I love you," he whispered. "And I'm sorry that things are crazy. I wish I could tell you they were going to slow down, but we both know that isn't going to happen."

* * * * *

A couple of days later, I came home to Zac already on the couch. He looked up from his computer when he saw me come in.

"You're home early," I teased as I hung up my keys. He put his laptop on the ottoman and stood up. He walked over to me, grabbed my hand, and led me back to the couch.

"Zac," I said under my breath. "What's going on, babe?"

He didn't say anything as he let go of my hand and grabbed his laptop. I nervously played with my fingers as he pulled something up.

"Babe?" I said, my breath getting caught in my throat. "You're scaring me."

Zac put his laptop on my lap and pointed to the screen. I hesitated before looking at it.

"Beverly Hills Glamp Ground?" I read. "You want to go camping?"

"We need a break," he said, looking down as he grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers.

"A break?" I stuttered.

"From this world, baby," he sighed, looking back up at me. "I come home every day, exhausted. And I know you do too. I feel like we haven't had any time to ourselves, any time to be alone. So, I want to do something. Something fun. Something just us two."

"And you're idea is camping?" I teased.

"We'd be completely alone out there," he explained. "No bosses, no cell service, no cameras. Just you and me."

"That does sound amazing," I sighed. He grabbed his computer and put it back on the coffee table before reaching over and grabbing my hands, turning me towards him.

"Then let's do it," he said eagerly. "It's a long weekend so neither of us work Monday. You sent in next month's issue today, so your boss won't need you over the weekend. She might not even need you tomorrow. My director is spending the weekend with his family and is even taking tomorrow off."

"I haven't used any of my sick days this year," I mumbled.

"Wait," he said slowly. "Are you saying. . ."

"I can call and get tomorrow off. Then with Monday being a holiday. . ."

I giggled when Zac excitedly leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled as I grabbed his face and kissed him back. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

"Let's go pack."

* * * * *

As we pulled up to the camping ground, I noticed another car waiting for us in front of our assigned tent. I looked over at Zac as his brother got out of the other car.

"Dylan's here too?" I asked, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Yeah," Zac said as he got our suitcases out of the back. "He needed a break too and wanted to come."

He looked over at me, his eyes soft. He walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I'm sorry, baby," he sighed. "But he's in his own tent and promised to do his own thing."

"It's okay," I smiled as I rubbed his chest. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his.

"You two lovebirds ready?"

Zac broke the kiss and glared at his brother. I laughed as I grabbed his chin and turned him back to me. "Easy," I whispered.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "He promised. . ."

"As long as his tent is far away from ours, I don't mind."

The three of us spent the next hour setting up our camping ground. I went to gather firewood as Zac and Dylan got dinner ready. When I got back they were whispering to each other. They jumped when they heard me.

"You guys okay?" I chuckled.

"Yep," Zac said, jumping up and walking over to me. He grabbed the wood from me and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

Dylan and I were cooking dinner when I noticed it was just us two. I looked around, trying to find Zac.

"Where's Zac?"

"He went for a walk," Dylan said, sounding kind of weird.

"It's getting kind of late," I said, not hiding my nerves. "Should we go look for him?"

Dylan checked his watch and bit his bottom lip; something he only did when he was overthinking.

"Let's give him a few more minutes," he decided. "Then we'll go look for him."

I stared at him as he turned back to the fire, trying to hide the look on his face. A few minutes later, I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up, wiping my hands on my jeans.

"That's it," I sighed. "I'm going to go look for him. It's getting dark and I don't think he has his flashlight."

"Wait," he said quickly as he grabbed my hand and stopped me. He cleared his throat, instantly letting go of me.

"Zac's a big boy, Y/N. He knows not to go too far from the campsite and to come back before it gets dark."

"But. . ." I stuttered.

"Y/N," he whispered, "Zac and I went camping all the time as kids. He's fine."

I tried to finish getting dinner ready, but I found myself constantly looking towards the path. A few minutes later, I started nervously chewing on my thumbnail.

"Actually," Dylan said, clearing his throat as he checked his watch. "Let's go look for him."

I let out a sigh of relief as Dylan handed me my jacket and grabbed the flashlights. We had only gone maybe half a mile before we could see some lights through the trees. I started to go around the campsite, but Dylan stopped me.

"What are you. . ." I stuttered as he looked over his shoulder at me with a smirk on his face.

I sighed before following him. My breath got stuck in my throat when we got to the clearing. Zac was standing there, in the middle of the meadow, surrounded by lights and flowers. My eyes filled with tears when I noticed the pictures of us scattered around.

I turned to look at Dylan, but he had slipped back through the trees. When I turned back towards Zac, he was right in front of me. He grabbed my hand and led me to the middle of the meadow.

"How did you. . . When did you. . . Why did you. . ."

Zac laughed as I stuttered. "I needed to bring all of this, but I didn't want you to see it. So Dylan brought it in his car and agreed to distract you while I set it up."

"I just. . . Why?" I finally got out, tears beginning to fall. Zac smiled as he reached forward and caught a tear with his thumb.

"This is why," he whispered.

I covered my mouth as he knelt down on one knee. He had tears in his eyes as he pulled a small black box out of his pocket.

"Y/N," he started, his voice gentle. "I love you so much, darling. And I can't imagine spending my life with anyone other than you. I know our jobs keep us busy and they can kind of be frustrating at times, but it's all worth it as long as I get to come home to you. I love waking up to you typing on your computer and coming home to you asleep on the couch. I love that you are always willing to run lines with me, go to premieres and parties with me, drive me to the airport at 2 in the morning. I love that you are on my team. I love you."

Zac took a shaky breath as he opened the box. My eyes widened, tears streaming down my face as I saw the ring he got for me.

"Will you marry me?"

It took me a second to find my voice, but once I did, I giggled out my answer.

"Yes," I said through my tears. "Of course I'll marry you."

Zac smiled as he slipped the ring on my finger and stood up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he instantly wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close to his chest. I felt him laugh as he tightened his arms around me.

"I love you," I whispered, not breaking our embrace. "And I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else either."

Zac laughed as he pulled me back into his chest and pressed his lips to mine. We quickly got caught lost in the kiss as we held each other. We broke apart when we heard someone clapping and laughing. We turned around to see Dylan jogging towards us.

I laughed as he pulled me away from Zac, lifted me up, and spun me.

"Dylan," Zac sighed. "Will you please put my fiancé down?"

"Sorry," Dylan chuckled as he put me down. He walked over to his brother and gave him a hug.

"Congratulations," Dylan whispered. He pulled out of the hug and looked over at me. "You got quite the girl."

"Thanks," Zac laughed. "I got lucky."

I walked over and Zac instantly wrapped his arms around me. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.

"I'll umm. . . I'll let you two. . . Celebrate," Dylan laughed awkwardly. He was about to walk away but stopped. "I'll send you the pictures I took but you probably won't be able to post them until. . ."

Dylan stopped talking when we broke the kiss and Zac glared at him. "Right. Sorry. Congratulations, you two."

We laughed as he turned on his heel and jogged back to the campsite. I looked back at Zac, biting my bottom lip.

"How long have you planned this?" I asked under my breath.

"Well," he sighed, tightening his arms around my waist. "I've been wanting to propose for the last year but things got so crazy. I realized that this weekend would be the first and only quiet weekend we had together for the next little while. And I couldn't wait any longer. I had to be engaged to you."

I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smirk as he kissed me back. I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against his.

"Is Dylan staying the rest of the weekend?" I asked under my breath.

"No," Zac said simply. "He's heading back tonight. Why?"

He saw the knowing look on my face and laughed. I smirked as he tightened his arms around my waist. I sighed before standing on my toes. I didn't press my lips to his yet, teasing him instead.

"Let's head back to camp and celebrate."

#zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader

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some-dr-writings · 3 years

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Kokichi, Shuichi, and Izuru fluff, no plot, just fluff

Kokichi Oma:

· You awoke with a groan feeling some pressure. Quickly you almost panicked but realized it was Kokichi.

· Though you didn’t live with your best friend technically, you practically did. He kept much of his things in your apartment, coming and going as he pleased sometimes disappearing for a month or more, other times holding himself up in the place only going out on very brief, sort occasions. He’d invite D.I.C.E. and his high school friends over whenever he pleased, even in the dead of night, he at least had the decency to make sure you weren’t awoken and even left a sticky note on your forehead warning he had others over.

· You were not surprised he was around but did wonder why he felt the need to use you as a pillow. Stroking your fingers through his hair you managed to get a hum out of him. He also hugged you tighter, snuggling into you. “Come on Oma. It’s time to get up.” “No it’s not.” He wined in that playful tone letting you know he was fully awake and just wanted to mess with you for a bit. “Yes, it is. Now please let me go.” “Noooooooooooooooooo. It’s your day ooooooooooooooooooooff. Spend time with me you meeeeeeaaaaaaaaniiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee.” You mindlessly played with his hair, twirling the ends around your finger as you thought over your predicament. “… At least get under the quilt so you don’t catch yourself a cold. I’m not going to look after you again.” “Yay!”

· Kokichi hopped off the bed, then threw the quilt and sheets high into the air, hopping under it as it fluttered down. He giggled wrapping his arms and legs around you in a tight embrace.

· This was but a rather calm morning with Kokichi, innocuous in fact. You’d have assumed he was tuckered out from his exploits the night prior, but he so excitedly chattered on about his adventures that could not be it. As he continued on you noticed the bags under his eyes. Perhaps he had an especially awful nightmare, or fought with someone he cares about, or maybe he just had a rough night, whatever the case may be, feeling how he clung to you so tightly, and so eagerly nuzzled into you as you hugged him, you at least knew he needed the affection, and were glad to be able to give it to him.

Shuichi Saihara:

· It was a lovely summer day; the sun shined down without a cloud obscuring that bright blue sky, a cooling breeze rolled past, swaying the grass and leaves, alleviating the world from the insufferable heat, the world just felt perfect for a moment, and Shuichi thought to go take a walk outside. Always doing his training in late evenings he never got to appreciate the outside in the light, or at least not too often. He thought the local park would be the perfect place and so there strolled around, adoring the warmth that tickled his skin.

· He wondered when was the last time he had done something like this, just walking around for the sake of it alone, it couldn’t have been back in high school when he was trying to get a feel for the grounds, was it? Though he was more of an indoors kind of person it was still so nice to get out once in a while. Especially curled up under the shade of a tree with a good book. That sounded just amazing to him and so he indulged himself and did just that!

· “Ah, it can’t be, but it is! Saihara! It’s good to see you buddy!” That voice! He placed down his book and saw exactly who he expected. “Y/N, it’s so good to see you too.” You pranced up to him, a skip in our step, seemingly more lively than usual. “You look great! How have you been? I see even you wouldn’t resist this perfect weather!” You promptly sat beside him with a smile. “Hey, what’s that supposed to me!? I like being outside!” “Really? I couldn’t tell with how you always kept yourself in the library.” You both got a chuckle out of this light teasing before Shuichi answered. “I’ve been good. Honestly work had been piling up for a while now, but then a perfect day like this shows up and I just knew I needed a little break.”

· You lightly nudged his shoulder, pointing to the book. “So, what’re you reading this time?” “Uh, I was actually just about to find that out for myself. I just took the book from my pile of unread ones and set out.” “So, you haven’t even started it yet! Mind if I join in on the fun?” “I don’t mind.” You eared yourself a light blush from the detective as you laid down, eagerly resting your head atop his lap. It was always so easy to fluster the man back then, but even years later he was just the same, the pair of you getting back into your old routine. Him reading aloud was some of your favorite memories of those times, and it was nice to see some things never change.

Izuru Kamakura:

· Finding even a place full of ultimates was boring Izuru ran away from the school at the same time as Chiaki’s class was graduating. Something in himself just knew this would be fitting and so that was when he made his escape. For a long time there after he simply wandered from place to place with no destination or anything like that in mind. He just survived doing menial jobs to get by but never stayed in one place for too long.

· That was till he had met you though. “Well, if you don’t have any goals you can’t get anywhere fast. Why don’t you stay at my place for a bit? I just have a tiny place so it’ll be cramped, but in my line of work I get so see loads of different jobs, and maybe we could find one that catches your fancy.” And that was exactly what he did.

· Being a freelance landscaper, you got to travel a lot and wherever you want, Izuru followed. Landscaper… Izuru believed that was a talent he possessed. Letting Izuru act as your assistant he’d often get opportunities to test out his skill, even letting him make plans and show them to your clients, but… “Aw, don’t feel so down. I’m sure someone will choose your design over mine one of these days.” “I’m not upset, I just don’t understand.” You draped an arm over his shoulders, pulling yourself closer as to get a better look at the plans he held in hand. “You are something else. So skilled, implementing techniques even I don’t know! But… I didn’t even need to see these to know why.” He just looked to you, expressionless. “You lack passion.” “… Passion? But I have raw skill.” “Sure, but people can only see skill, however they can feel passion. If you don’t enjoy yourself others can feel that. People naturally are attracted to passion, passion is something special that skill can never replace! Like before this, I used to be a doctor, but I just was not happy and I could see that hurt my patients, they deserved someone who truly loved fixing the human body, so I quit and made my gardening hobby into my job! And…” You let go of him, strolling over to the plants. You kneeled down, Izuru doing the same beside you, examining as you tended to the rose bush, doing some trimming. “It was the greatest decision of my life.” He continued to watch as you so lovingly worked the plants, assisting you with anything you needed for this new project.

· Passion… the happiness he could feel emanating from you as you worked… could he feel that, not just from you but himself? He honestly did not know. He was so apathetic to everything, could he ever feel anything else? For years he wondered that as he continued to stay by your side. That was till one day. After getting back home from your latest job Izuru went straight to the rooftop garden, finding all his plants were untouched by the neighbors. As he inspected them, he suddenly saw his own reflection. He knew it was himself but he didn’t recognize it. It was himself, smiling, something he’d never seen before. He looked to you who was beside him in aw and confusion, finding you were holding a mirror before him. You didn’t say a word as you simply put it back into your pocket before asking him about his flowers. He didn’t answer for a moment, realizing something. He heart picked up in pace at the thought of your rowdy neighbors messing with his plants. He just planted these thinking having some flowers on hand could be useful for your job, but… he spent the majority of his time doing this, even watching over the flowers when there honestly was no reason too… You noticed how his eyes glossed over as he just kept staring at his beloved flowers. “Kamakura, are you okay?” He looked to you, again just staring. You were going to say more but then…

· Like the flowers he spent his time with you, even if there was no reason too. He just found himself compelled to help you, to just sit in the same room as you even if neither of you were doing anything. He… he was passionate about his flowers and you, so he hugged you, his only friend in this entire world. There was no reason for it, he just felt he needed to do so, and so he did.

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aellynera · 3 years

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An Off Day (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

AN OFF DAY

(okay, look. my husband thought he was being funny and said “give me a character and i’ll give you a scenario” and then i snorted laughing and then...well. this happened. set sometime before the events of the movie.)

((shoutout to @anetteaneta for an important bit of info and @tinygaydemonbby for the random chat and another key bit.))

Word Count: 2100(ish)

Summary: It’s your day off and you’re just trying to enjoy it. Nathan is working and he’s trying to enjoy it. It doesn’t at all go the way you imagined.

Warnings: Cursing. Banter. Robot sex (not graphic). Personal injury. Innuendo. Propositions. Nudity. Complete and utterly ridiculous trash. Possible typos. Nathan Bateman.

The absolute magnificence of the Alaskan landscape was something that, quite frankly, you were never going to get used to. The trees, tall and majestic, towering over the lush green grass. The river, crisp and pristine, bubbling its way to the immense waterfall that cascaded down the cliff face and eventually made its way into the ever-vast ocean. The bald eagles that would soar from treetop to treetop, even the occasional moose that would make itself known at the edges of the compound and then disappear like ghosts into the forest beyond.

It was otherworldly.

The occasional twig snapped and leaf crunched under your boots as you hiked along your usual trail along the north side of the property. Today’s air felt cool on your cheeks despite the sun overhead; at least it was summer - technically, even if the temperature wasn’t getting much above 60 degrees Fahrenheit these past few weeks - so you had twenty hours of daylight instead of the twenty hours of darkness in winter.

You found your favorite spot on a nearby rock and perched on the smooth surface, tilting your face up to that glorious, shining orb. This really was what you needed right now.

*ding!*

...And that was really what you didn’t need. Definitely not right now, and probably not later either. Speaking of otherworldly.

Your boss was a difficult man, and you had a strange rapport with him that was irritating on a daily professional basis, and to your dismay, increasingly so on a personal level. To be fair, you were the only two humans out here. To also be fair, your boss was kind of annoyingly hot.

You sighed and reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone and glancing at the screen.

God: Where the fuck are you?

God? What the… You were annoyed by the text, but more annoyed by the name. When the hell did that bastard changed his name in your phone? He was insufferable on the best of days, but this was a new low. A new high? You weren’t really sure. Sighing, you shot a text back.

You: It’s my day off.

God: You know that’s not really a thing here right?

You: It is when I need a break from you.

God: I’ll make it up to you.

You: Unless you’re asking me to dinner, I don’t want to hear it.

You groaned. You really didn’t mean to say that.

The little ellipses that showed he was typing back flashed across the screen several times, then stopped. Then popped back up, and stopped again. And just because your boss was your boss, it did it four more times, but still no response.

You shoved your phone back in your jacket pocket and returned your attention to the river, breathing deeply and watching the water swirl around a pile of rocks on the opposite bank.

*ding!*

Dammit.

God: I need you to come back like right now.

You: I’m not gonna sit around and be your Eliza Doolittle today, Nathan.

You weren’t just saying that. Last week, the man had dragged you, literally, into the lab by your elbow and had you repeat vowel sounds and random words extremely phonetically while holding a pulsing orb of glowing blue goo. He claimed it was some kind of brain training. You’d said it wasn’t part of your job description, but honestly, it probably was. You were there to assist, you were there to manage, you were there to occasionally have a satisfyingly intelligent and non-arrogant conversation, and you were mostly there to make sure Nathan Bateman didn’t blow anything up or burn anything down.

That didn’t necessarily mean you liked any of it. Okay, fine, you kind of liked the assisting part and definitely the intelligent conversation part. But it was your day off, and all you wanted to do was not be in the house.

God: What? No, it’s...I just need your help with something.

You: Nathan. It. Is. My. Day. Off. No assistance today. Bother me tomorrow.

God: ...Please?

That gave you pause. Since when did he actually ask for anything politely?

You: Fine. I’m halfway up summit trail, give me like 20.

God: Make it 10.

You: Asshole.

God: And bring a bag of frozen peas.

What the actual hell.

You blinked at the screen twice, turned your phone off completely, and started back towards the house.

*****

You didn’t know why you paid the slightest bit of attention to Nathan’s request, but once in the house, you found yourself in the kitchen, pulling a bag of frosty legumes out of the freezer. With it in hand, you made your way to the lab.

Nathan hadn’t told you where he was, but you knew where to find him. He was always in the lab.

“Okay, I’m back,” you called out as you pushed through the door to Nathan’s inner sanctum. “Now what is so damn important that…”

“Oh thank fuck,” Nathan’s voice called out. “Do you have the stuff?”

You glanced around suspiciously. You couldn’t see him. Until you came around the side of the long table in the middle of the room and found him. Your eyes widened at the sight of Nathan, curled up on the floor in a fetal position, sweating and vaguely shaking.

And totally naked.

He glanced up as he saw your shoes approached and weakly raised his arm and made a grabby hand. “Gimme.”

Tossing the frozen vegetables to him, your mouth opened and closed several times, trying to process the scene. Before you could really take it all in, you watched as Nathan reached over his shoulder, grabbed his discarded t-shirt, and wrapping the icy bag in the shirt, placed it directly on his crotch.

“All right,” you finally got out, “what the actual hell is going on?!”

“Ohhhhh,” Nathan moaned as the cold compress made contact with his skin. “I thought I was gonna die.”

“Why are you naked?” you yelled at him.

“There was a malfunction,” he replied, nonchalant as if you were simply discussing the weather.

You just gaped at him. This was definitely not in your job description.

“A malfunction,” you repeated.

Nathan made a feeble gesture at the table. It was covered in metal parts and wires, screwdrivers and other things you assumed were robotic but couldn’t recognize. He had been working a new body build for the past few days, that much you knew. But now there were metal bits everywhere and Nathan was bare as the day he was born, sprawled in the middle of the floor. Your eyes scanned the table again; the biggest object, in the middle of the mess, looked sort of like...oh, you did not like where this was going. You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I may have miscalculated the required tension,” Nathan said, still curled up on the floor.

The required...oh hell no.

“Nathan...you know you’re the literally the smartest person I know, and you know I think you’re brilliantly creative and inventive and all that important stuff, but please, please tell me you were not actually doing what I think you were doing,” you muttered.

“I was working!”

“You know I can just check the security footage, right?” you stared him down.

Nathan looked at you over the top of his glasses. “I had to test it and make sure it worked.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Why does a robot have to have working...parts?!” As soon as you asked, you wished you hadn’t. This idiot genius actually had the nerve to blush. Slightly. He would never admit it, but his ears definitely got pinker than they’d been a few seconds ago.

Nathan sat up suddenly and glared at you, adjusting the ice pack again - thank the heavens - to keep himself covered. “First of all, it’s not a robot, it’s an AI. There’s a big difference. And second of all, we talked about this. The point is to make it as human as possible, so this particular part was necessary.”

The glare you shot back at him could have melted his current loincloth. It was your day off and Nathan couldn’t even leave you be for one whole day without his compulsion to cater to whatever whim was in his head and get under your skin. You dropped into one of the lab chairs.

“So...let me get this straight,” you sighed. God help you. But not the God in your cell phone, because he could go fuck himself. Or get fucked. Whichever.

Suddenly, through your haze of utter exasperation, what you’d just thought clicked into place and you snorted a laugh. Your eyes flashed over to the thing in the middle of the table. It was definitely shaped like a pelvis.

Nathan’s eyes became daggers. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?”

Your eyes went to the thing on the table and to his hands, and then back again. You shook your head, cleared your throat, and tried not to laugh again. It didn’t work. “Sorry. Um. So...what you’re saying is...you got injured because you were...fucking a robot pelvis.”

“I should fire you,” Nathan grumbled.

“And you got injured - from fucking a disembodied robot pelvis -”

“I am so going to fire you.”

“...because it was too...tight?”

“I shouldn’t have asked for your help. I should have just let myself die here, naked and unsatisfied.” He flopped back down.

You couldn’t help yourself any longer. Your laughter rang through the lab, a mixture of actual amusement and horrified reality. You snorted again and that made you laugh harder. Nathan had always joked about making a sex robot. Well, you thought he had been joking, but now, clearly not - and he’d hurt himself in the actual process of trying to make sure it worked. You weren’t a monster, you hoped he wasn’t truly actually injured, but you also took a little satisfaction in knowing karma existed.

After a few minutes, you wiped your eyes and looked down at him. Nathan stared back, but you could see the start of a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I told you I miscalculated the tension. It was fine--”

“Until it wasn’t?” you wheezed.

“--until it cut off all the circulation to my dick.”

You bit your lip. “Nathan Bateman. You literally cockblocked yourself.”

He didn’t respond right away. But then he spoke, at the same moment you noticed the smirk on his face fully bloom and what you’d come to call his “up to some bullshit” look glimmer in his eyes.

“Are you gonna come help me or not?”

“Excuse me?” You were fairly certain your eyebrows could not go any farther up your forehead.

“Well, I’m not in excruciating, unimaginable pain now, and I’d like to make sure my dick isn’t going to fall off. And I didn’t finish. Need a little help here.”

“You want me to--” you stuttered.

“Un-cockblock me,” his wolfish smile broke out fully now.

You hurled a pen at his head. “You really are an asshole.”

“I admit,” he continued, easily dodging your projectile, “this wasn’t what I was expecting for the first time you saw me naked, but I’ll work with what I got.” He started to remove the ice pack.

Another pen went flying his way. “You know, I’m just going to pretend that you’re not about to flash me with your mechanically impaired penis, and that you didn’t just proposition me, and I’m leaving this room now,” you said, standing up and shaking your head.

“Baby, you’re just gonna leave me hanging here?” he grinned, stretching back out on the floor. He folded his hands behind his head. The t-shirt wrapped bag of frozen peas remained - now perched rather proudly, you noted - on his groin.

A vexed growl left your lips as you walked towards the lab door. “Leaving now!”

“Well could you at least toss me my pants?”

You glanced down. Nathan’s sweatpants were balled up behind the lab door. How they’d gotten all the way over here...nope. Nope. You decided that information was entirely unnecessary.

You threw his pants at him and they hit him in the face with a satisfying whump.

“You sure I can’t convince you to help me out here?” Nathan asked serenely from under the fabric.

He couldn’t see the small smile on your face as you walked out the door. Thank god. Or...God. Whatever. The man was a menace.

“Ask me to dinner,” you called over your shoulder.

“I’ll text you,” he called back.

God.

~end~

taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @damerondjarin @deeandbobbymcgee @rosemarysbaby13 @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall @itspdameronthings @poedjarin @spider-starry @tinygaydemonbby @writefightandflightclub @woakiees @veuliee2 @yourbucky084

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#nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #fanfic #oscar isaac characters #my writing

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filthficdump · 3 years

Text

Good Thing This Job Has Benefits.

AN: I wrote this in one day, I’ve developed a hyperfixation on The Walten Files, so you get to enjoy this absolute mess I’ve made.

You can also read it here on AO3. There’s no romance, it’s a gender neutral, nameless reader fict. There’s no death, because I am NOT about to write angst about a happy family :(

When I had you to myself, I didn't want you around. Those pretty faces always made you stand out in a crowd.

The gravel under my tires crunched as I drove through the night, bopping and tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song, singing along. It was late, most likely near or after nine PM, but I wasn’t about to take my eyes off the road to check. That’s just asking for trouble.

But someone picked you from the bunch, one glance was all it took. Now it's much too late for me to take a second look.

New job, it’s been going great! I wouldn’t have thought I’d get to use my programming degree so soon, but I’m so happy I got this job. Sure, it’s for a kid’s burger joint, but there’s animatronics and other stuff, plus that finance minor rocketed me straight to an assistant manager position!

Oh, baby, give me one more chance, to show you that I love you. Won't you please let me, Back in your heart.

In the distance I could see a pair of headlights and slowed my car a bit and moved a bit to the side to provide them more room. These roads were narrow and I really didn’t think I wanted to get into a car crash and have to deal with that with what’s left of my savings and likely my first check.

Oh, darlin', I was blind to let you go (Let you go, baby) But now since I see you in his arms (I want you back)

The thought ‘That car looks like it’s moving really fast- too fast’ is the last thought in my head as the car got close, too close to stop the car or move away, there’s a ditch and trees on my side of the road. My hand hit the horn hard, blaring, but they served and-

CRASH!!!

Yes, I do now, I want you back. Ooh, ooh, baby, I want you back.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I want you back. Na, na, na, na.

When I come back to, I’m upside down, held up by my seat belt. Ho-ly-shit. I got into a fucking car crash.

Oh shit! I got into a car crash- The other car! I struggle to turn to look out the window and I see the other car against the guard rail. It’s hard to get a good look at the other car, seeing how I’m upside down and in the goddamn ditch, but I need to get out of the car.

I instinctually went for the pocket at the door, looking for my seatbelt cutter, but it had fallen out. Thanks, gravity. Thankfully, it’s on the roof of the car and I grabbed it before grabbing the handle of the door, pushing it open before I pressed my free arm against the roof of the car and-

“ FUCK! ” I yell, feeling the pain shooting up my arm and shoulder. Holy fuck, why did it hurt so bad?! We’re in the middle of the woods and I can’t remember the last home I passed and my car is upside down.

Either someone comes or I’ve got a long walk. I grit my teeth and cut the seat belt, falling head first into the ceiling and then out the door, tumbling until my butt hit grass. I flung the seatbelt cutter to the side and struggled up, using my door as support before I had to climb up the slippery slope of the ditch and onto the road.

My more useful arm held the other to my chest as I limped. Just about everything hurts. My chest, my shoulder, my leg, my face. Why did this have to happen? I was having such a good night, and now I’m in a wreck and about to give this jackass a piece of my mind. If he’s not dead.

I got closer to the car and looked inside. The man was unconscious, leaning against the steering wheel. I looked to the back instinctually, not expecting to see two terrified children! Oh god, wait- No, they’re alive. They’re looking at me.

I pulled open the driver door, still looking back at the kids, “Uh… Hey. Are you kids okay?” I asked, leaning down to look at them better. A boy and a girl, clearly siblings. They were sniffling and crying, but nodded, “Is this your dad?” I asked, pointing at the unconscious man. The car reeks of booze.

“N-No…” The boy sniffled, “He’s our uncle!”

“Okay, okay… Well, I’m gonna get us to help.” I said and went over to the passenger side, opening it up. The paint was scratched and the panels dented, but the car was still running. It would be shorter to keep going the way I came from, the city and a hospital is that way.

I reached over and wrapped my arm around the unconscious man’s chest, dragging him over into the passenger seat where there were beer bottles on the floor. Not even a seatbelt? He’s lucky he didn’t die.

I buckled him in and shut the door, walking back around to the driver’s seat before getting in and shutting the door. I tested my foot on the gas and hand on the wheel, my other arm resting in my lap.

Thank god the car still worked! I just started driving, the car feeling quite literally fucked as it went over the road, but it’s a working car!

It was perhaps ten or fifteen minutes down the road, “Um… So, what’s your guys’ names?” I asked, looking back at them through the crooked rear view mirror. They must have been so terrified. They were just in a car crash, and now their jackass drunk uncle was unconscious and a stranger was in the car with them.

“I’m Edd… She’s Molly…” Edd said, his sister was holding a grey bunny toy. Looked like one of those prize stuffed animals we keep at Bon’s Burgers prize counter, but it wasn’t blue or purple, and the restaurant hasn’t been opened yet.

I introduced myself and really focused on the road, “That’s a really cool bunny. It’s like the ones we have at my work.” I said, smiling, “Ever heard of Bon’s Burgers?”

The girl looked confused, “Y-Yes? Our dad works there.” She said. Oh no, were they my co-worker’s kids? Which co-worker?

“O-Oh? What’s your dad’s name?” I asked, glancing over at the man in the passenger seat. I couldn’t see him very well in the dark car, but I could hear his deep breathing and slight snoring.

“His name is Jack Walten. Our mom is Rosie!” Edd said, and for a moment I thought I was going to get into another accident. Jack… Walten…?

My boss's kids?!

“Ha-Ha, oh wow… Small work. I started working there. Today was my first day, actually…” I said, muttering a few swears under my breath, “I met Jack! Um… Do either of you know his phone number…? We’re gonna need it when we get to the hospital.”

The boy nods and I sighed- Wait, if these are Jack’s kids, then the man...

Another glance. We’re getting to the part of the road with street lights. I recognize those glasses. This was my other boss, wasn’t it? Please don’t say it is, I just crashed into my bosses’ car. Wait, no, he crashed into me! This wasn’t my fault!

The bastard is too drunk and irresponsible. He could have killed himself, the two kids, or even myself! For god sakes my car is in a ditch!

“Let’s just… Listen to some music, okay?” I offered and put on the radio, driving with my knee for the moment since my injured arm was starting to go numb. It better not be broken, I swear to god.

Once we got into the city I went straight to the hospital, parking in the emergency parking lot. “Okay, can you guys walk?” I asked, unbuckling my belt to look at both of them. They opened their doors and the girl winced.

“My ankle hurts!” She cried. Edd thankfully didn’t seem too injured, but he had a burn from the seat belt.

“Okay, okay. Hold on, I’ll carry you.” I said and got out. My leg felt like it was covered with biting fire ants, but I wasn’t about to leave her alone for them to just get a wheelchair.

I bent down and she reached up, one hand clutching the stuffed bunny as she wrapped her arm around my neck and I held her up on my hip, my only good arm holding her up, “Okay, okay, okay.” I mumbled softly and the boy was by my side, “Okay, grab my hand.” I said, offering my injured hand. I didn’t care that it hurt, I knew he was putting on a brave face.

He took my hand and I walked them both in. The tired nurse at the desk looked up at us and looked terrified before she quickly called for help, “We have another in the car. The black one out front.” I said, “We were just in a car crash.”

“Oh my god!” She said as more nurses came, one that had a gurney and I put the girl up on top and the boy got to sit in a wheelchair, “Are you their mother?” The nurse asked as one of the other nurses tried to sit me down in a wheelchair as well.

“No… I’m the one their uncle crashed into.” I said and reluctantly sat down. I didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating, it must explain all of the wandering thoughts that clouded my mind.

I was brought to the same room that they were, but curtains separated me from them. Doctors and nurses came shortly and my vision grew quite spotty. Information was exchanged, my nearest relative was an hour away and it was late, so it’s a toss up if they got the call.

One of the children gave a nurse the phone number to their home, and already my head was coming up with the worst thoughts of what would happen. Will I be fired? Is he going to sue me? I’m probably just as guilty as Felix in his eyes.

Speaking of Felix, if Jack doesn’t fire me he will! If he doesn’t get arrested.

“Pardon me…” One of the nurses said, drawing my attention, “We need to cut off your shirt. Your arm is likely dislocated and we don’t want to move it.”

Oh god, if they cut off this shirt I’ll have to pay 25 dollars to get another. “Um… No, it’s my only uniform.” I said and with my one good arm undid the buttons before another nurse pulled from my uninjured side and I pulled it the rest of the way off, letting the nurse take it.

Unfortunately, pants and shoes too, but I got a nifty gown and now they could resume looking me over. What I didn’t appreciate was them having to pop my arm back into place, that was awful.

They had to bandage up my cuts and test me for brain damage (just a mild concussion) and put my arm in a sling, my ribs were also likely fractured. Molly's ankle had to be splinted as it was strained and Edd had a slight concussion.

At least I got to change back into a spare set of plain clothes that they happened to have, but that required a nurse's help with the newly relocated arm that ached and hurt when I moved it.

Felix hadn’t been brought to our same room, and an officer came to question us. I told the whole story, and just to be sure they breathalyzed me. Unlike a certain driver I blew a 0.0 BAC.

Our stories matched up and they pulled back the curtains to allow us to see each other and talk. They were still shaken up, but they were told their mom and dad were on their way a while ago. Great. I’m just glad their parents were still awake and were on their way, even though I knew there was going to be so much to talk about and I was going to have to justify myself to both of the worried and likely angry parents.

I talked to them about school and what they liked to do, how they just came from a school party. Molly was excited to have her friends sign her ‘cast’ and Edd thought he would be the coolest kid in school for surviving a car crash.

I remembered being their age and smiled and nodded along as I was put on a low grade painkiller and we were given water to drink. After about 20 minutes I could hear a commotion and a man and two women calling out for the two children. They called back and moments later a frazzled looking man, my boss Jack Walten and his wife Rosemary, along with his worried looking teen daughter Sophie rounded the corner of the doorway and in that moment I had never seen anyone look so relieved.

The reunion was toothrottingly sweet, all five hugging and just overjoyed to see their children okay and alive. I couldn’t help but smile, even though it felt like I was intruding on something that should have been private.

Edd brought me up and Molly joined in, the both of them talking at once and practically over each other as they tried to explain everything that happened. I’m not sure if their parents or sister fully understood, but what was grasped was that Felix crashed into me, and I drove them to the hospital.

Both Jack and Rosemary looked at me and I awkwardly waved. He looked confused, like he recognized me but unsure from where, “Hi, boss…” I said, introducing myself for the second time that day.

We only met for ten minutes earlier today, but his eyes widened in surprise. “You… Felix crashed into you?” He asked, “And you got my children to safety?”

I timidly nodded. Please, please don’t be angry.

The officer presented himself and cleared his throat, “Your employee here was driving home when Mr. Kraken, who was intoxicated, who was driving the other way crashed into them and knocked them from the road into the ditch while Mr. Kraken’s car hit the guardrail.” The officer explained.

“I um… I was upside down but cut myself free and climbed out to check on the other car, and I saw that he had Molly and Edd in the back and my car wasn’t about to get out of the ditch any time soon so I just… drove them here.” I finished, punctuating the end by nervously drinking the rest of my water.

“He was drunk?!” Rosemary said, stunned and clearly angry. The officer nodded while Jack’s fist clenched, clearly enraged. I would be just as shocked and angry if I had children and they were put in danger by someone who’s supposed to be their friend.

I should probably be just as angry that some drunk asshole- who is my boss no less- nearly killed me, but I was just glad that we were all still alive. Sure, my car is fucked, and so is about 50% of my body (exaggerating), but my bones will heal and I’ll repair my car or get a new one. I mean, that’s what insurance is for, right?

What I didn’t expect out of all of this was to be hugged by Rosemary. Oh yeah, it fucking hurt but I just kept that to myself. She sniffled and I awkwardly patted her back with my one good arm, “Thank you for keeping them safe…” She said quietly.

“I-It was nothing, really.” I said timidly, “I wasn’t about to leave them alone.”

“Nothing? You saved them!” Jack said and shook my hand when his wife pulled away to dry her eyes and hug all of her children once more, “I can’t ever thank you enough for what you did for my family. I… I couldn’t stomach the thought if…”

I gave him a reassuring squeeze of his hand and he clasped my good shoulder, “It sucks that this happened in the first place but… I’m just glad everyone is alive…” I said, giving a nervous smile.

“Is he alive?” Jack asked, looking at the officer as he let go of my hand and shoulder.

“Yes, he is. We will be pressing charges, he blew above a 0.3.” The officer responded and Jack nodded, seemingly ‘pleased’ with that.

After exchanging contact information and addresses with both Jack and myself he departed, leaving the family to resume their reunion. I smiled awkwardly and looked away awkwardly, scratching my neck.

I haven’t heard anything about my relative having called or if they were coming, so I could only assume I wouldn’t be getting a ride from them. Or a ride tonight at all.

For a moment I was lost in my head, feeling a bit too sorry for myself. I moved all the way out here because there were jobs and rent was cheap, but I was so far from my family and friends, and even though I helped their children would I even still have a job?

I refilled my paper cup and sipped on the cold water before a nurse came to let us all know that after a final check over, we would be set to go home in an hour or so. Great, I better start making calls or something.

For a moment I didn’t realize that Rosemary was talking to me. I looked up as she repeated my name, “U-Uh yeah?” I said, looking a little confused.

“Do you have a ride home…?” She asked. Ah, oh no. I’m not about to ask these clearly exhausted parents for a ride home, I could only imagine they just wanted to get home and be with their children.

“No… But I can get one, don’t worry.” I said, but Jack shook his head.

“Nonsense, it’s the least we could do. You look like you need some sleep.” He said, making me chuckle.

“So do you two.” I laugh, “Really, you don’t need to. I’ll get a hold of someone eventually. Really!”

Rosemary shook her head, “No way, sincerely it wouldn’t be a bother. Where do you live?” She asked, and I reluctantly gave my street address, “Oh, you live just a bit down the way from us!” She said. Looks like it’s out of the question.

The doctor came and checked us all over one last time before giving me a prescription slip for painkillers for the next week and a half and we were permitted to leave. Jack carried his daughter while Rosemary held her son’s hand and I followed behind them.

I won’t lie, I’m pretty damn nervous. Checking out of the hospital took a little while as well, but soon we were free to go. That will be a fun bill to pay.

Rosemary sat in the back with the children, not giving me any chance to protest as I had to sit in the passenger seat next to Jack. Edd and Molly were clearly tired, cuddling up to their mother as Jack turned on the car and carefully pulled out.

It was incredibly clear that Jack was very, very focused on the road, not wanting to get his family into a car accident as well. I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking, but I was just so glad that this didn’t end in tears.

The car ride to their home was mostly quiet, only some light conversation made. Jack was interested to know how I enjoyed my first day on the job.

“It’s been exciting…” I chuckled and he laughed softly, but I wasn’t all that comfortable or any less nervous. I did just want to get home and rest, because tomorrow morning I likely had to call my insurance and figure out how I’ll be getting to and from work.

If there even was a job anymore. With one half of the business owners likely going to jail I didn’t know if Jack would take on the massive workload, or if he would even want me to work there anymore.

“We’re here.” Jack let them know.

We pulled into their driveway and Sophie was the first to get out to help her mother take her siblings into the house with Jack telling them that he would be right back after he dropped me off.

“Have a good night, everyone…” I smiled and waved at them. Edd and Molly sleepily waved back before they went inside and shut the door.

It was surreal, everything that had happened. And now I was alone with my boss as he started to drive towards my home.

“I can’t believe he happened to crash into you…” Jack said and I nodded silently, “I could never thank you enough… You… I just can’t believe…” His voice cracked and he brought his hand up to wipe his cheeks.

“I’m sorry this happened… I’m just glad your children are safe…” I said, fidgeting with a stray string on my pants, unsure if I should pat his back or would that be too far? “You have a beautiful family, Jack, I’m sorry that you’re having to drive me home…”

“Don’t be sorry, you drove them to the hospital with a dislocated arm! I couldn’t imagine what it was like, being run off the road and into a ditch, upside down!” He said and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“To be honest, it was like a dream. One moment he’s coming towards me and I move aside since the road is pretty narrow, the next I see that he’s a bit too close over to my side and then finally I’m upside down in the ditch.”

“And- It was you! Who would have thought that my new employee would be the one to get hit.” He said, smiling softly, “Oh and don’t you worry about rushing back into work! I will be paying you your wages, you helped my family out, I’m going to help you too.”

“You-You really don’t have to do that. I’ll be okay!” I insisted, but he shook his head. He wasn’t having it.

“I want to, you don’t understand how stressed and worried we were…” He said, “I called Felix over 20 times, I thought the worst had happened and I… I started to lose hope I would ever see them again.”

“He’s going to jail for this, no doubt…” I said, “Will you be taking over the business…?”

“Yeah… It’ll be a lot but I think I have someone who I can rely on to help.” He said, smiling.

“Oh, good! I’ll try my best to pull my own weight.” I said, smiling, “I know you guys took a big risk hiring me fresh out of college but-”

“I- It’s you!” He said, “I know you just started, but your finance and programming degree is going to be a massive help!”

“Wha…?” I gaped at him. Me? Did I get a promotion? “I would be honored to help!” I smiled. I think I just became a manager or something, I’ll figure that out when I go back to work.

I pointed out my house and he pulled up in front, “I won’t let you down, I promise.” I gleamed and he smiled, holding his hand out for me to shake.

I did, not expecting him to pull me in for a hug. Looks like this was a really huggy family, it was pretty similar to my own family. “I know you won’t. Would you mind if you gave me your number so we can speak tomorrow? I imagine Edward and Molly would like to hear that you’re okay.” He asked.

I nodded and waited until he got a pen and a small black book to put my number in it before I opened the door, “I’ll speak to you soon, then… Have a good night, boss.” I smiled and he laughed.

“Just call me Jack. Really.” He said, “Have a good night.” I nodded and got out before shutting the door, walking to the front door. I grabbed the spare key from the mail box and gave one last wave after I unlocked the door. He flicked his high beams at me before he started to back up and I opened the door, shutting and locking it behind me.

It’s been a really strange night.

#the walten files #twf #jack walten #Rosemary Walten #Edward walten #Molly Walten #Sophie Walten #Reader #gender neutral y/n #No romance #No smut #Gen #Alcoholism

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rachellelie · 3 years

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A Romantica Wedding

A little late, but here's another fic for @romanticaweek! Feel free to read on A03. There is also a fic on their engagement over there! Prompt- Silence/Party. (A wedding is basically a party, right?)

It was time. He turned to look at himself in the floor-length mirror that sat in the room. He had spent the last hour or so getting ready. He was dressed in an all-white tuxedo now, fidgeting with the lapels on the suit jacket. He turned around to find his brother standing there, tears filling his eyes. He held out his elbow for him. “Are you ready?” He whispered. He offered a trembling smile and nodded.

They walked outside of the venue-a fancy building that contained multiple, spacious rooms and was decorated with white lace, fairy lights, and flowers throughout. They walked down the steps that led towards an aisle, multiple chairs sat on either side and there was a white runner that led from the stairs and continued on. Everything outside was a vibrant green; luscious grass with nearby tall, stunningly green forest trees. and the sky above was a striking blue.

Standing in front of the chairs on either side of the aisle were their guests consisting of friends and family. Among those in the front few rows included his sister-in-law, as well as his lover's parents. Next to whom was the rest of his lover’s family who consisted of his brother, and his cousins. In the few rows behind them were their friends and co-workers, an editor, their boss and his assistant, a childhood friend, and his guest, and another recently made friend from college.

Misaki Takahashi and his brother, Takahiro Takahashi, came to the start of the aisle and stopped. He watched as Takahiro encouraged his son, Mahiro to walk down the aisle ahead of them. He was carrying the teddy bear he and his lover, Usagi-san, lived with, Suzuki san, in his arms. The bear was dressed in a tuxedo outfit, dressed for the occasion, and tied to Suzuki-sans bow were two wedding rings. Officially. Mahiro was the ring bearer, but of course-hearing that word, ring bearer, Usagi couldn’t let it go and so it had been decided to let Mahiro carry the giant teddy bear so that Mahiro and Suzuki-san were both the ring bearer. They watched as Mahiro waddled down the aisle, giant teddy bear in tow.

In the center of the chairs, the aisle was covered with a white, lacy fabric cover which came to a set of small steps. The steps led to the platform, where a wedding arch stood in the center, it was white and full of various colorful flowers. Beyond that, there appeared to be a cliff, where the sound of crashing waves against the mountainside could be heard faintly.

At the end of the aisle, underneath the wedding arch, in its very center stood a pair of older gentlemen. One of them wore ceremonious robes and had a book in his hand- the wrinkles around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. Misaki recognized him as the man he usually referred to as Sebastian, even though he was actually named Tanaka, and there he stood, waiting to officiate the ceremony.

Misaki’s eyes flitted from Tanaka and landed on the man who stood in front of him; his lover. There stood Usagi, who was dressed in an all-black suit; he turned to watch as Misaki appeared at the end of the aisle. And how he smiled.

Misaki’s heart fluttered at the sight of his lover smiling at him at the end of a wedding aisle. He still couldn’t quite believe that he wasn’t dreaming. He felt his brother tighten his hold on his arm, squeezing him reassuringly. He squeezed back.

Misaki inhaled once. Exhaled. And stepped forward. Towards his future.

Towards the person who he had fallen in love with. Who he was now choosing to spend his next year with, and the year after and all the years after that…

As he approached he noticed the smiles and adoration on all of their guests' faces. His heart swelled at how many of them were here, supporting them and rooting for their relationship. It hadn’t occurred to him how obvious it had been to everyone they knew that he and Usagi were dating. He remembered breaking the news to each of them.

“Misaki and I are getting married,” Usagi stated matter-of-factly to anyone who would listen. Their responses went like this:

“Well, it’s about time!” Minami said proudly as her husband's eyes filled with tears.

“My little brother is growing up! Misaki, listen to me! If he ever hurts you in any way I’ll be sure to return the favor!”

And

“Finally, when’s the wedding? What should I bring?” Kaoruko exclaimed, all ready to go into planning mode.

“You can bring me….” Mizuki muttered under his breath; she whacked him in the back of his hand with a “Hmph!” In the end, they had appeared together, sitting by side. She had also presented them with the gift of baking their wedding cake.

And

“Congrats Chibi-tan! Just don’t take too long on your honeymoon…Akihiko still has deadlines to meet…”

“AAAHHHH!!! I’m so happy for the both of you…now about where that new chapter is sensei-”

Now they all stood, staring straight at him. He blushed profusely as he felt his heart jump into his throat. He was grateful he had his brother’s arm to steady him. They were closer now.

Closer…

Closer..

Closer.

And just like that, they had reached the end of the aisle.

Takahiro patted his hand and leaned over to kiss his head, smiling as he pull away, his eyes brimming with tears. He turned to sit next to his wife in the front row, who was now corralling their son and the bear he was holding for the time being.

He stepped up the small steps and took his spot standing straight across from Usagi, who met his eyes then. He was staring at him as if he was the only person in the world and Misaki’s heart flip-flopped.

Misaki smiled shyly, “Hi,” He breathed, unsure of himself.

“Hi,” Usagi smiled, and it was bright.

Everyone took their seats and Tanaka started to speak. “Dearly beloved…” His voice droned on, and Misaki was barely listening now. His mind was racing in anticipation of what was coming next and focusing on the man in front of him. Usagi cocked his head to the side and stared at him adoringly with a slight smile on his face. Misaki vaguely registered Tanaka saying the words “vows.”

He started to speak, “Misaki, I love you. Loving you is my everything. And if you let me, I’ll spend all my years with you, this year, next year, the year after, and all the years after that. Forever. All that I ask is that you stay by my side. “

“Are you making fun of me?” Misaki blanched his nerves on high alert now.

Usagi smiled and shook his head, “Not at all.” He stated in that calm, endearing voice of his.

Then, it was Misaki’s turn. “Um,” He started, because he was such a smooth talker. “I…I’m not very good at words or saying the right thing. But, I know that…I just want…to stay by your side. If that’s ok with you. And that…if that happens then...we'll be alright. We’ll always be alright.”

The ceremony proceeded on and they were instructed to exchange rings. They took the rings from Suzuki-sans bow and followed the instructions to place them on each other’s hands. They were matching rings, Usagi-sans engagement one had stayed the same - saying he wanted nothing else because that one was so precious. He had gotten a matching one for Misaki the next day. They were simple gold bands, with two teddy bear heads on them (resembling Suzuki-san), and a heart overlapping them. The inscription engraved on the inside matched as well, “this year, next year, the year after, and all the years after that.”

As they placed the rings on each other’s fingers, a light sprinkle of rain started falling from the sky. It was a bright and sunny day, so it was a bit shocking to feel the cool water against the warm sun. They all looked up towards the sky, some of them holding out their hands for the rain to fall upon them.

In the middle of the sunshine and rain, just beyond the cliff off in the distance, there was a newly formed rainbow. It sat perfectly between the couple who were now holding each other's hands out in front of them, their wedding bands sparkling in the sun. And they laughed, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness.

As soon as it had arrived, the rain began to subside, only leaving the rainbow behind in its wake along with the refreshing scent of rain and pine. Not a cloud was in sight. They continued on, and as Usagi took a step towards him, Misaki felt his heartbeat furiously in his chest.

“I now pronounce you…married. You may now kiss your husband.” And he did just that. Usagi cupped his chin, tilting it up towards him, and kissed him tenderly, lovingly, adoringly. So much so, that Misaki thought he was going to drown in his love for him.

***

#junjou romantica #romanticaweek #fic #fanfic #marriage #writing #my writing #words

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merlinsbed · 3 years

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was losing my mind today from a combination of sleep deprivation, anxiety, and five different ideas all competing at the exact same time for my attention so I picked one and spent a few hours writing it out.

basically, prince lan wangji falls in love with concubine wei wuxian in nightless city. a/b/o verse mostly because it was a very convenient excuse for wwx being wen ruohan's concubine. about 5.8k in length.

When he arrives in Qishan Lan Wangji can see why people consider the Imperial Palace to be intimidating. The sharp, cutting angles combined with the black and red color scheme, not to mention the sheer mass of the place. It's a city in its own right. Lan Wangji takes it all in with the same blank expression he keeps carefully in place anytime he's somewhere public. The personal guard his brother sent with him shifts nervously where they stand.

Second Prince Wen Chao is sent to greet him. He manages to make Lan Wangji's own royal title sound like an insult and the Gusu Lan guards bristle. Lan Wangji has to remind himself of exactly what's at stake if he offends a member of the Wen royal family and just barely manages an appropriate bow.

The guest quarters set aside for him aren't bad. They smell... not exactly bad and even if they did Lan Wangji is well disciplined enough to ignore it, but it's not exactly pleasant either. The source is an incense burner left out in the bedroom. Lan Wangji stares at it for a long moment, frowning. Then he dumps the old incense and brings out some of his own. Sandalwood, like his own natural scent. Within minutes the smell starts to permeate the room and some of the tension fades from Lan Wangji's shoulders. He doesn't want to be here, but the Wens had... not demanded it, but implied that they were prepared to if the King of Gusu denied their request. They wouldn't say outright that they're taking hostages, but it's the only reason they would suddenly demand that the heirs of the major provinces must be sent to Qishan. For their education, ostensibly. To learn about appropriate leadership or something. Really, it's just a show of power. It's the Wens showing that they can do whatever they want, whenever they want, including take the heirs of the provinces.

Lan Wangji steps out onto the porch and takes in the courtyard of the guest quarters. He's sharing the compound with the other province heirs from Qinghe, Yunmeng, and Lanling. Guards from each province are scattered in front of their respective dwellings. Lan Wangji has been on his fair share of diplomatic visits, usually to assist his brother rather than represent him. Qishan is, by far, the most depressing. The palace of Cloud Recesses rests high in the mountains of Gusu and is surrounded by lush forests, flowing rivers, and mountain meadows. By comparison, Qishan is browns and greys painted across severe cliffsides. Even the palace gardens are far more barren than Lan Wangji is used to. He turns to go back inside when movement catches his eye.

A young man enters the courtyard of the guest quarters and pauses, hesitating just inside the threshold as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He's dressed in delicate reds and blacks, hair held away from his face by an ostentatious golden ornament. A light breeze carries his scent across the courtyard, something light and floral that tickles at Lan Wangji's memories. He thinks of loud, carefree laughter carrying through the library window accompanied by the flick of long dark hair over a shoulder clad in white guest robes during the lecture his uncle hosts every few years for children of noble families. He blinks and frowns. The young man- an omega, based on his scent- takes a halting step forward. Then he seems to release a great breath and frowns at the ground. His eyes keep darting towards the Yunmeng quarters where Prince Jiang Wanyin is staying. Interesting. Lan Wangji searches his memory, but the lecture feels like a lifetime ago. So much has happened in the five years since then.

Lan Wangji is so caught up in his thoughts it takes him a moment to realize that the omega is now staring at him. Their eyes meet and Lan Wangji sucks in a sharp breath. There's something distinctly sad about the omega's entire being. He's unhappy here, Lan Wangji thinks, but who isn't? The omega's chin tilts up slightly, scenting the air and his breath seems to catch in his throat. Then a Wen guard storms in and ushers him along. Lan Wangji stands on the porch of his new residence until long after the omega is gone from his sight.

It takes several days to find out the identity of the omega. Gossip is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, but his brother had also told him to do what he has to to survive here. This probably isn't quite what Lan Xichen had in mind, but who's to say Lan Wangji won't suffer greatly for not knowing the young omega's name.

He is called Wei Wuxian.

He was given to Emperor Wen Ruohan as a concubine for his harem four years ago.

"The Wens demanded tribute," the head of his personal guard reports. "the Jiangs refused to hand over their daughter, so they gave Wen Ruohan their ward."

Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji remembers him. Cloud Recesses has only very recently begun to desegregate alphas, betas, and omegas. Back then, Wei Wuxian had spent most of his time with his adopted older sister in the quarters for omegas, but that hadn't stopped Lan Wangji from catching sight of him. All too often that lotus blossom scent would drift to him on the wind, accompanied by Wei Wuxian's unrestrained laughter. It had grated on Lan Wangji at first. Until the day he'd gone to his rabbits and found the clearing already occupied. Wei Wuxian had sat in the grass, the skirts of his guest robes spread haphazardly around him, giggling as the rabbits cautiously approached him, sniffing at his fingers. Lan Wangji had stood for too long on the edge of the clearing, Wei Wuxian's intoxicating scent swirling around him, laughter dancing in his ears, and that sweet smile seared forever into his memory. It's a far cry from the sadness Wei Wuxian carries himself with now. No wonder Lan Wangji hadn't recognized him at first.

There's a feast commemorating something Lan Wangji doesn't care to remember two weeks after their arrival in Qishan. It's the first time he manages to get a glimpse of Wei Wuxian since that first day when he'd come to the guest quarters. Wen Ruohan's wife passed away eight years ago, so he often has his favorite concubine sit beside him at feasts. She's a sultry looking omega who flutters her eyelashes at the emperor and giggles flirtatiously all through the meal. Lan Wangji's eyes slide right past him and instead land on Wei Wuxian where he stands stiff backed and obedient just behind Wen Ruohan's shoulder, there to serve food and drinks for the emperor, apparently. All through the feast he diligently assures that the emperor's cup remains filled and that the best dishes are always within reach. He looks miserable. Lan Wangji wants to sweep him away from here, take him back to Gusu, back to the clearing with rabbits where Wei Wuxian had smiled so sweetly.

He doesn't realize he's staring until their eyes lock. After a moment, a ghost of a smile hesitantly touches Wei Wuxian's lips. Lan Wangji's heart pounds in his chest. Even the ghost of Wei Wuxian's beauty is enough to leave him breathless. For a moment, the rest of the room falls away. Then Wei Wuxian's eyes shift and the smile disappears. Lan Wangji follows his gaze to Jiang Wanyin. Wei Wuxian had never been officially adopted by the Jiang family, but Jiang Fengmian had raised him alongside his own children anyway, much to his wife's chagrin. Lan Wangji wonders what it's like for Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin to see each other now.

The banquet drags on. Lan Wangji is used to a strict schedule of sleeping at nine and waking at five. He can tell by how exhausted he is that nine has come and gone, but Wen Ruohan does not permit anyone to leave a feast before he does. Nie Huaisang, sitting to Lan Wangji's left, reaches over and flicks him every time his eyes start to droop. It's annoying, but for the best. Lan Wangji does not want the embarrassment of falling asleep on the remnants of his meal at a feast in Qishan. The less the Wens have to attack him with the better. He'll have to thank Huaisang later for this. They're not friends, really, but close enough, thanks to forced proximity. As princes their older brothers were close friends and they remain so even after ascending to their respective thrones.

When Wen Ruohan finally leaves, Lan Wangji lets out the barest hint of a relieved sigh. He waits until a few minutes after the emperor has exited the room before getting up and leaving as well. Outside, he pauses and takes in a deep breath of cold, night air. It wakes him up a bit and that's how he becomes aware of the crying. Frowning, he follows it to a small alcove tucked out of the way and shaded by a tree in the process of losing its leaves. Wei Wuxian stands there, arms wrapped around himself, shoulders hitching with sobs he's desperately trying to quiet. A stick cracks under Lan Wangji's boot. Wei Wuxian's head whips up.

"Your highness," he says quickly, bowing, tears still trailing down his cheeks.

"Wei-gongzi, are you alright?" Lan Wangji asks. The head of his guard had mentioned that Wen Ruohan is possessive of his harem. He loves to show them off, but no one is allowed to touch. Last year he caught one of his concubines having an affair with a foreign dignitary from a small clan. Both had been executed. He should turn around and leave before someone sees them, but Wei Wuxian's eyes go wide.

"I didn't think you remembered me," Wei Wuxian says. His smile is watery and sad. "The few times we talked I just seemed to annoy you."

"That was a long time ago," Lan Wangji says. He wants to explain that it hadn't been because he couldn't stand Wei Wuxian, but because he didn't know what to do about the odd, uncomfortable feeling in his chest every time he caught Wei Wuxian's scent or saw the flick of his red ribbon or heard his laughter. Instead, he asks again, "Are you alright?"

Wei Wuxian wipes at his tears and his laugh is anything but joyous. "It's just- a lot," he says. "I thought it would be nice seeing Jiang Cheng again, but it just reminds me that I..." That he's stuck here. That he can't go home. Before he realizes what he's doing, Lan Wangji raises a hand. Wei Wuxian's breath hitches. Lan Wangji freezes. For a long moment his hand remains there, hovering in the space between them. Then Lan Wangji drops it to his side.

"You look like you need to go rest," Wei Wuxian says, dropping his eyes. It's so uncharacterists that Lan Wangji doesn't know what to do. The Wei Wuxian that wreaked havoc on Cloud Recesses was anything but demure and polite. Before he can figure it out, Wei Wuxian bows and whirls around, disappearing into the night.

They fall into it slowly. Lan Wangji tries not to. He is well aware of the consequences if Wen Ruohan catches wind of him anywhere near one of his concubines, but even back in Cloud Recesses he'd been unable to help but be drawn to Wei Wuxian. They go from sideways glances to little stolen snatches of conversation in unobserved corners to his guard pointedly turning a blind eye to Wei Wuxian climbing through his window as the sky darkens, looking more alive than Lan Wangji has seen him so far in Qishan.

It's been six months since Lan Wangji and the other heirs arrived, but it hasn't been nearly as miserable as he anticipated. They're expected to attend lessons several days a week which mostly consists of reciting various sayings from past members of the Wen clan and listening to second Prince Wen Chao tell them how stupid and worthless they are. But at the end of the day now comes the possibility of Wei Wuxian crawling in through his window. It doesn't happen every night. Wei Wuxian is far from being Wen Ruohan's favorite concubine.

"He likes to look at me," Wei Wuxian had said one night, head pillowed on Lan Wangji's thigh as Lan Wangji absently plucked out melodies on his qin. "But he rarely actually takes me to bed."

Tonight, as the melody of a song Lan Wangji started writing five years ago fades into the darkening evening, Wei Wuxian crawls into his lap, arms wrapped loosely around Lan Wangji's neck, their noses almost touching. His sweet lotus blossom scent permeates the air, mixing with Lan Wangji's sandalwood. They twine together in a beautiful harmony. Lan Wangji doesn't know who moves first, but the touch of Wei Wuxian's lips to his own is everything he's been imagining and more. The layers of silk slide easily from his shoulders and Lan Wangji splays his hands against the bare skin of Wei Wuxian's back, swallowing his gasp in yet another kiss. From there, it seems only natural to carry Wei Wuxian to his bed, lay him down on the soft sheets, and crawl between his legs. Lan Wangji has read books, but none of them prepared him for what it's actually like.

He doesn't fall asleep with Wei Wuxian wrapped in his arms because someone would notice that Wei Wuxian is missing from his room in the morning. Instead, he wipes the evidence of their activities carefully from Wei Wuxian's skin, helps him dress, then watches him climb back out the window. Wei Wuxian pauses.

"You can call me Wei Ying," he says, almost shy. Lan Wangji swallows, mouth suddenly dry. Wei Wuxian- no, Wei Ying is giving him permission to call him by his birth name.

"You may do the same," Lan Wangji says. A warm smile spreads slow and beautiful across Wei Ying's face.

"Okay." He leans in through the window and kisses Lan Wangji on the cheek. "Goodnight, Lan Zhan." And then he's gone. Lan Wangji stands there for several long minutes before closing the window, smiling to himself.

His brother would be horrified if he knew about the affair. Not because premarital sex goes against their clan's rules. Lan Wangji happens to know his brother would be a hypocrite in that case. No, he would be horrified that Lan Wangji is behaving so recklessly. Every day he tells himself he'll stop and every evening he leaves the window unlocked for Wei Ying to sneak through. It's stupid. Wen Ruohan will kill them both if he finds out. Lan Wangji keeps doing it anyway.

The thing is, it's not just his life at stake if things go wrong. Lan Wangji knows that if Wen Ruohan were to discover the affair and send his men, his own Gusu Lan guards would fight every soldier in Qishan to protect him. There's no way they would survive that. And no doubt his actions would have consequences back home in Gusu as well. It's selfish and stupid and a million other things that Lan Wangji has been raised not to be.

And yet, when Wen Ruohan leaves Qishan right as Wei Ying is about to go into heat, Lan Wangji still sneaks through Nightless City to Wei Ying's room and stays there through the whole weekend. He leaves only because he is expected at Wen Chao's ridiculous indoctrination lessons the next day. Wei Ying pouts at him, his heat temporarily soothed.

"There's still two more days of my heat left," he complains. He flutters his eyelashes at Lan Wangji. "Er-gege, won't you stay and take care of your Wei Ying?" Lan Wangji looks at him, sprawled naked on his bed, hair splayed across the deep red fabric of the sheets. It sends a stab of want through Lan Wangji and it takes all his willpower not to strip back down himself and rejoin Wei Ying in bed. He reminds himself he would have to scrub Wei Ying's heat laden scent from his body all over again, lest someone smell it on him and report the incident to Wen Ruohan when he returns.

"I will return to you tonight," Lan Wangji promise. He shouldn't. But as he looks at Wei Ying's mollified expression he knows he will. He's already cutting it close staying until morning, but when he tried to leave the bed last night Wei Ying had whined and clung to him and he hadn't had the heart to leave him. This is one advantage at least to waking up early. There's still time for him to get back to his room before it gets too light out. He doesn't kiss Wei Ying goodbye because he knows he won't leave if he does.

Two days later, on the final night of Wei Ying's heat, they lie pressed together, sweaty and heaving. Wei Ying is sprawled across him, the two of them still tied together. Lan Wangji closes his eyes, his arms tightening around Wei Ying. He fights the urge to dip into the crook of Wei Ying's neck and sink his teeth into soft, smooth skin. He wants so badly to mark Wei Ying, to claim him as his own, but it would only get them both killed.

He feels Wei Ying's nose brush against the skin of his neck, lightly scenting him. It's followed by little kitten licks, then soft nips. Lan Wangji shivers. He thinks about the high collars of his robes. If it's a little towards his shoulder, no one would ever know. His hand comes up and tangles loosely in Wei Ying's hair, gently guiding his mouth to the right spot. Wei Ying stills.

"Lan Zhan?" His lips brush against Lan Wangji's skin as he says his name.

"You can, if you want to," Lan Wangji says. Wei Ying pulls back far enough to blink down at him, eyes wide. His skin is flushed pink with the fever of his heat and there's a haze to his eyes, but there's also wonder and perhaps a spark of hope.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says again, so soft and fond. "Lan Zhan I can't." He sounds so pained. Lan Wangji hates it. Wei Ying should never sound like that. He strokes his fingers soothingly over Wei Ying's cheek.

"Yes you can," he says.

Wei Ying shakes his head, even as he leans in to Lan Wangji's touch. "You're not mine to claim," he whispers. "What if you meet someone else? Someone better?" Lan Wangji recoils from the very thought there could be anyone better than Wei Ying. Wei Ying is perfect and beautiful.

"For me, there is only you," Lan Wangji says. He guides Wei Ying's head back down to his shoulder. "There will only ever be you, Wei Ying." Wei Ying's breath shudders across his skin. Then he bites and Lan Wangji gasps.

Lan Wangji leaves Wei Ying's room late that night, the new claim bite hidden beneath his pristine robes.

A month later, a banquet is held to celebrate the end of the indoctrination. It's been a year since the heirs of the noble families were sent to Qishan to be educated. Lan Wangji should be happy that it's almost over. And part of him is. He can't keep the smile from his face when he goes to greet his brother in his own guest rooms. He's never gone so long before without seeing his older brother. If not for Wei Ying, his time in Qishan would have been so much more miserable.

"Wangji," Lan Xichen greets warmly. Lan Wangji isn't the sort that often seeks physical comfort from others (Wei Ying excepted, of course), but when Lan Xichen opens his arms in invitation Lan Wangji takes it. It feels good to be folded in his brother's embrace.

"I hope you've been well," Lan Xichen says when they pull apart and sit to share tea.

"I have sent letters," Lan Wangji points out. Not overly detailed letters, but he was always sure to let his brother know that though he missed home he was doing alright.

"Yes, but it isn't the same as seeing you with my own eyes, didi," Lan Xichen says. They chat and it's so nice and familiar that Lan Wangji can almost forget they're still in Qishan.

The banquet is much more bearable with his brother and the other rulers there. No one pays as much attention to one prince in a room full of kings. It's good because Wen Ruohan is having Wei Ying serve him again tonight. Lan Wangji steals more glances at him than he should, eyes lingering on the peak of Wei Ying's wrist when he holds his sleeve out of the way to pour Wen Ruohan more wine. His gaze keeps being drawn to Wei Ying's smooth, unblemished neck. Someday, he will figure out how to take Wei Ying away from here so that he can claim him the way Wei Ying has already claimed him. They will belong to each other.

That night, he isn't surprised when Wei Ying doesn't come to his room, not with so many guests about. He is surprised when his brother shows up at his door though.

"Xiongzhang," Lan Wangji says, surprised. Lan Xichen's smile is strained.

"Wangji, may I come in? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Not exactly reassuring, but Lan Wangji has never had reason to fear his brother, so he steps aside and shows him to a table where Lan Xichen sits in silence as Lan Wangji prepares tea. Lan Xichen takes a long, measured sip before he speaks.

"I had heard that when the Jiang family of Yunmeng was forced to give Wen Ruohan a concubine in tribute, they sent their ward, Wei Wuxian," his brother says. Lan Wangji doesn't wince, but it's a near thing. "I remember when he came for the lecture with the prince and princess of Yunmeng." Lan Xichen gives him a knowing look. "And I remember how taken you were with him." Lan Wangji can feel his ears burning. Sometimes he hates how well his brother knows him.

"That was a long time ago," he says, for lack of anything else. He can't lie very well in the first place, but he especially can't lie to his brother.

"I see some things haven't changed," Lan Xichen says, tone soft and regretful. "Wangji, I won't ask you to confirm what I suspect. I saw enough from how you two looked at each other all evening." Lan Xichen takes another sip of his tea. "Wen Ruohan has heavily hinted that extending your stay here would curry great favor with him. He's made the same offer to the other provinces. I was already hesitant to accept it, but considering tonight, it's only reaffirmed my decision that bringing you back to Gusu is the right thing to do." The spark of hope that ignited at the thought that he could have a bit more time in Qishan, more time to figure out how to make sure that when he leaves Wei Ying can leave with him, shatters.

"Xiongzhang," he says, unable to keep the pained pleading from his voice. Lan Xichen closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, Lan Wangji recognizes the firm resolve in them.

"Wangji, there's more at stake here than you realize," Lan Xichen says carefully. "I want you back home, safe." Lan Wangji stares at his brother for a long moment, trying to parse out his words. He doesn't ask for clarification, not here in Qishan surrounded by enemies. He knows his brother has been planning something with Qinghe and Lanling and Yunmeng for a while now, slowly and carefully so as not to draw Wen Ruohan's attention, but the details have been kept even from him. He trusts his brother though.

"Okay," Lan Wangji says, even as cracks form in his heart.

Three days later when they leave, he doesn't get the chance to say goodbye to Wei Ying.

It's probably a good thing.

Probably.

(Lan Zhan pointedly ignores the sorrowful looks Lan Xichen keeps giving him as they ride away from Qishan. He will be strong for his people, for his brother.)

War is what his brother and the other kings have been planning. War against the tyranny of the Wen Empire of Qishan. It's a year and a half of bloody, brutal battles. Lan Wangji acts as one of his brother's generals, leading their soldiers into battles against the Wens' forces. He thinks often of Wei Ying, too often probably. He's acutely aware of the claim bite on his neck and wonders if Wei Ying is thinking of him too.

When the final assault on Nightless City comes, Lan Wangji is resting back in Gusu. His forces had found themselves facing unexpected reinforcements in their last battle. They came out victorious, but only just. Casualties were numerous and those who survived suffered many injuries, including Lan Wangji himself. He's just starting to get back into his normal training regiment when news arrives that Nie Mingjue is leading the assault on Nightless City with the intent of wiping out every last member of Wen Ruohan's clan. Lan Wangji thinks of Wei Ying trapped in the palace, thinks of him getting caught in the crossfire.

He rides hard for Qishan. By the time Nightless City comes into view there's smoke rising into the sky and the air is filled with screams. He makes for a narrow valley where Wei Ying once told him of a secret passage intended for escape. He doesn't know where it is or how to open it, but it's this or try and ride through the chaos of the battle taking place in the city. He won't be much use to Wei Ying if he gets himself killed in crossfire.

As he crests the top of the valley, Lan Wangji looks down and sees two figures already making their way away from Nightless City, dressed in black and red. Lan Wangji recognizes Wei Ying immediately, would know him even if he were blind. The other figure is familiar to him as well, one of the only friends Wei Ying has managed to make in Nightless City. Wen Qionglin is the younger brother of one of Qishan's best doctors, Wen Qing, a soft spoken young man with a talent for archery. He carries a sword now, looking nervously around as he escorts Wei Ying away from the danger. Lan Wangji is just starting to relax when he catches movement from the corner of his eye across the narrow valley. His eyes find golden robed soldiers. If he were closer, Lan Wangji knows he would see the sparks-amidst-snow peony of the Jin clan. There are two archers, each with an arrow already knocked. Lan wangji doesn't think. He pulls his own bow from his back, fits an arrow to it, and takes down the first archer. Before the second one has time to react, he's dead as well. Lan Wangji looks down into the valley and sees Wei Ying looking back at him. Quickly, he leads his horse down and leaps from the saddle, ignoring the twinge of pain in his recently healed leg.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying breathes. He looks awful, pale and tired and shaking.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says. He steps closer and that's when he realizes that Wei Ying is holding a child. A baby not yet a year old. His breath hitches. "Wei Ying..." Wei Ying's smile is exhausted, but just as soft and beautiful as Lan Wangji remembers.

"Lan Zhan, I knew you'd come for us," Wei Ying says and Lan Wangji knows that he isn't talking about Wen Qionglin, who watches them cautiously, grip tight on his sword. Wei Ying puts a hand on his friend's arm. "It's alright, Wen Ning. Lan Zhan will keep me safe." Wen Qionglin observes Lan Wangji for a long moment, then nods to himself. He turns and bows to Wei Ying.

"Then I'll leave you in his care, Wei-gongzi," Wen Qionglin says. Wei Ying frowns, receiving a smile in return. "I have to go back for my sister." Wei ying sighs.

"I know." Wei Ying briefly places his hand on Wen Qionglin's cheek. "Be careful."

"I'll do my best." Wen Qionglin bows to Lan Wangji, then turns back to the city. Wei Ying watches him go, expression filled with grief.

"I don't know what I would have done all these years without Wen Qing and Wen Ning," he says softly. "They looked out for me, almost treated me like their brother." Lan Wangji wrap an arm around him and finds his gaze transfixed on the child in Wei Ying's arms, blinking sleepily up at him with familiar eyes. He reminds himself that there's still a war being fought in Nightless City. There could be more Jin soldiers around or others that wouldn't think twice about killing Wei Ying and the child. Anything to ensure Wen Ruohan's entire family ends here.

"Let's go," Lan Wangji says and guides Wei Ying over to his horse.

As it turns out, the invading forces of the other provinces hadn't been the greatest danger to Wei Ying. That had been Wen Ruohan himself. When it became clear that the battle was not in his favor, Wen Ruohan gathered his concubines together. They thought they were being taken somewhere safe, somewhere they would be protected until the battle was over.

Then the guards lining the edges of the room drew their swords and Wei Ying knew they weren’t meant to walk out of that room. Wen Ruohan was possessive of his concubines. If he couldn’t have them, no one could. Wei Ying isn’t sure how he managed to escape. Chaos had erupted in screams and blood as Wen Ruohan sat imperiously in the center of the room and watched his personal guard kill without mercy. Somehow, the door to the inner sanctum of the palace was unlocked. Wei Ying suspects Wen Qionglin knew of Wen Ruohan’s plan. He had been nearby when Wei Ying stumbled out of the room, clutching his screaming child to his chest.

Wei Ying tells Lan Wangji all of this in Gusu, in the safety of Lan Wangji’s private residence, the Jingshi. He’s dressed in borrowed white and blue robes from Lan Wangji’s own wardrobe. They’re of a similar height, but Lan Wangji is broader, his robes slipping slightly down Wei Ying’s shoulder. Lan Wangji fixes it and Wei Ying hums an absent thank you, attention focused on the baby.

“What is his name?” Lan Wangji asks. He hasn’t had time to. He’s been focused on getting Wei Ying back to Gusu and keeping him and the child safe. Wei Ying looks up at him.

“A-Yuan,” he says. “Our son’s name is A-Yuan.” Lan Wangji’s breath leaves him in a shaky exhale. Their son. He had known. He’d known the moment he’d looked down at A-Yuan and seen the shape of his own eyes looking back at him. “Here.” Gently, Wei Ying shifts A-Yuan into Lan Wangji’s arms. Lan Wangji holds his son reverently.

“Our son,” he whispers. Then he frowns at Wei Ying. “How…” Wei Ying hears the question he’s not asking.

“I told you, Wen Ruohan liked to look at me, but otherwise he never paid me much attention,” Wei Ying says. “He heard I was in heat while he was gone and thought I still was when he came back. Wen Qing knew you were with me during my heat, so just to be safe she gave me an herbal tea that mimicked heat symptoms. When I realized I was pregnant, he just assumed it must be his.” Lan Wangji’s shoulder slump, just the slightest bit, in relief. If Wen Ruohan paid a little more attention, perhaps he might have realized that something was off.

“You’re safe now,” Lan Wangji says not for the first time. He’s been saying it the entire journey back to Gusu. “You and A-Yuan. I will make sure of it.” Wei Ying smiles, stepping closer to rest his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

They marry in spring, trees and flowers blooming all across cloud recesses. Jiang Wanyin, newly ascended to the throne after his father’s death in the war, grumbles about it.

“Don’t take it to heart,” Wei Ying says cheerfully as he cleans paint from A-Yuan’s chubby little hands. He's taken an interest in painting lately that Wei Ying enthusiastically encourages. “I’m pretty sure if Jiang Cheng doesn’t have something to complain about he’ll die.”

“Would you prefer to marry at Lotus Pier?” Lan Wangji asks. He’s asked this before. Wei Ying laughs.

“Lan Zhan, the wedding is tomorrow,” he says. “We are not moving it to Lotus Pier. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m perfectly happy to get married in Cloud Recesses.” He checks A-Yuan’s hands for any lingering paint, then rises and comes to wrap his arms around Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji buries his nose in Wei Ying’s neck, nosing along the unblemished skin there. Now that Wei Ying is no longer trapped in Qishan, he could sink his teeth in and leave a claim bite there. Wei Ying goes still in his arms. Lan Wangji presses a kiss to the spot he wants to bite and lifts his head. He doesn’t blame Wei Ying for being hesitant to complete the bond. He spent nearly six year as a prisoner in Qishan. Lan Wangji will be patient and wait as long as needed.

His uncle had been horrified when Lan Wangji had finally admitted to his year-long affair in Qishan with Wei Ying and the child he had fathered outside of marriage. The only thing that had saved them from his uncle’s wrath was the claim bite on Lan Wangji’s neck. It’s enough- barely- to legitimize both their relationship and their son, but Lan Qiren had made it clear that marriage better be in their future.

Lan Xichen had been easier. After all, he already saw with his own eyes the connection Wei Ying and Lan Wangji share. He was delighted to be introduced to his nephew and took immediately to being an uncle.

Lan Wangji searches Wei Ying’s expression carefully. “You would tell me if you are unhappy?” he asks, far more tentative than he would like. Lan Wangji doesn’t normally do tentative. Wei Ying smiles, full of love. Lan Wangji feels a tug on his robes and looks down to see A-Yuan frowning up at them, arms extended in a silent request to be picked up. Lan Wangji doesn’t even hesitate to indulge him. Wei Ying leans in to press a kiss to the crown of their son’s head, then looks at lan Wangji, eyes sparkling with joy.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, “I have never been happier.”

#the untamed #mdzs #wangxian #my fic #behold my latest brain child #I might flesh this out more today

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Faerie Circle

M Fae X GN Reader, 3,819 words

You were running from problems of your own design when fate plunged you into the capture of a Fae. But, despite this, he’s not as bad as he seems.

You fled, your feet pounding against the rocky, treacherous terrain. Behind you, you could hear angry voices. you were lucky the rocks provided a decent amount of cover. There was no way you could have kept ahead of them without their help. You scrambled over and through them like a mountain goat, huddling between them and behind them.

One of your feet landed on a particularly loose section of rocks and you skidded. Your leg twisted underneath you and you landed sideways in the dirt. Stinging scratches ran up your side. Blood leaked slowly from the scrapes.

“Fuck!” You stretched your limbs awkwardly. One of your ankles ached. Groaning, you struggled to push yourself back up. You’d definitely done something to it. The damn thing was refusing to completely support your weight. And you could hear the angry people approaching from behind you.

Frantic, you used your arms to heave yourself up and behind a large outcropping of stone. You huddled behind it. Blood still dripped from your side and you slapped your hand to it. You hoped you hadn’t smeared a trail of it along the ground.

The crowd moved closer and closer. You pressed your back to the stones, sucking in a sharp breath. Closer… closer… They were practically on top of you. There was a moment of hurried searching. You held as still as you could, trying to not breathe.

The noise of the crowd began to fade, heading away from you. You let out a slow breath of relief. They were gone. They hadn’t seen you. You were safe.

You stood up, stretching your legs out. Your ankle protested, both with a creak and with a sharp sting of pain. Stretching out your limbs, you glanced around, trying to get a picture of your surroundings.

There was moss on all sides of you, you realized. You could only just see it under the pale light of the moon. It was a circle of moss that you’d been sitting inside of. And, you realized with a slow, dawning horror, there was a smear of your blood in the middle of it.

Panic pierced through you like a spear. You scrambled free of your hiding place, ignoring the stinging pain of your ankle. Some distant part of your brain recognized that there was no way running would help. If you’d left your blood in a fairy circle, they would find you wherever you went. But it was the only thing you could think to do.

Your run was more of a desperate limp, but you started back down the way you’d come. If the villagers you’d stolen from caught you, it was better than getting taken by the Fae. Humans you could deal with. You didn’t know what you would do with a Fae.

“Goodness, in a bit of a hurry, aren’t we?” A light, amused voice carried from somewhere in front of you. You skidded to a stop, staring into darkness. You could just make out the figure of a person, standing on the trail, between the stones. “Running like the devil himself is after you! Or-” And you could hear the sharp-toothed smile in his voice, “-perhaps the Fae?”

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

He stepped forward and a shaft of moonlight illuminated his body. He was humanoid in shape, with deep brown skin and dark hair tied into a long, thin ponytail. From his forehead sprouted two thin antennae that twitched constantly in the moonlight. He had four arms that ended in hands with long, spindly fingers like insect legs. He seemed to be wearing some kind of cloak that trailed on the ground behind him.

“Don’t run,” the Fae said. He was grinning, his sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “You’ll only exhaust yourself. There’s no way you can run from me.”

It was a foolish thing to do, but as he spoke, the panic that had been pooling inside you overflowed. You turned on your heels and, ignoring the stitch in your side and the pain in your leg, you ran.

For about a foot. And then you slammed into something warm and solid.

Long, spindly fingers gripped your shoulders. You looked up into the sharp-featured face of the Fae. “Where are you going?” he said, voice light with amusement. “I did already tell you that you couldn’t run from me. His eyes were pitch black, no iris or sclera. The longer you looked up into them, the less tethered you felt to reality. Looking into them felt like falling into an endless night sky. “Leaving your blood in a Faerie circle? Why, that’s just an invitation! You were practically asking to be taken by one of us!”

You tried to pull away from him, but he kept his firm grip on your shoulders. “Now, now, none of that. I’m getting awfully tired of chasing you down.” The cloak he was wearing shifted and you realized that it wasn’t a cloak at all. It was an enormous set of butterfly wings, draped around his shoulders. They unfurled fully, a pale, lunar green with enormous purple eyespots.

“Hold on tight,” he said. “I’d hate to drop you.”

He didn’t exactly take off, because that would suggest he rose into the air. This was more like he abruptly jerked sideways and suddenly the ground underneath you was gone and you were falling through darkness. The Fae was holding onto you, all four arms holding you securely against him.

Like breaking through a cloud bank, the darkness faded, revealing a great meadow dotted with trees. Little, glimmering sprites danced around it, providing just enough light to make out the ground, even in the night.

Atop a hill was a large house, sort of like the manors you were used to stealing from. There was a great garden in front of it, illuminated by more of the little sprites.

The Fae came to a gentle landing. As soon as he touched the ground, a host of servants emerged from the house and the garden, looking at him curiously. Some of them were clearly Fae, but several others looked like completely normal humans, down to their worn faces and mussed hair.

The Fae dumped you on the ground. You rolled, stumbling awkwardly. “You,” he said, pointing to one of the servants. “Assist this one inside. You.” A sharp finger stabbed out at another servant. “Attend me.”

The servant he’d addressed first scrambled to you and helped you to your feet. The other servant nodded shakily and followed him inside.

You scrambled to your feet, pulling away from the other servant. “What the hell is going on?”

“Shh!” she said, pressing a finger to her lips. “Come on. Let’s go inside and I’ll fill you in.”

You didn’t end up going into the huge mansion. Instead, you went to a house off to one side. It was smaller, and significantly less ostentatious. While the mansion was illuminated grandly, this house was steeped in shadow.

It wasn’t as awful on the inside as you were expecting. It was small, but there was a cozy feel to it. Several servants slept together, in a large pile of cushions and blankets.

“Welcome to the servants of Luminar,” the person who’d led you in said. “I’m Cocoon.”

You stared at her. “That’s your name?”

“It’s a nickname.” She gave you a look as though you were a little slow. “Don’t give out your name to anyone. Even if you think you know them. Not a good idea. Never know what’s listening in.”

She gestured around the room at large. “You’ll be living here for a year and a day. Standard serving contract. How’d he get you?”

You blinked at her slowly, comprehension dawning. “I bled in a Faerie ring.”

She winced. “Oof. I made a really stupid contract. Anyway, your job now is to do whatever he wants. You’ll probably work in the house, cleaning. It’s what most of the human servants do. I’ll show you around tomorrow. For now, get some rest. We have to be up early in the morning.”

Obviously, you didn’t sleep well that night.

The next day was a blur of cleaning and learning the rules. Don’t tell anyone your name, don’t be insulting, don’t eat any Faerie fruits. You learned quickly to be as blank as possible, never giving any cause for insult to the Fae who showed up at the house.

Your master, Luminar, the one who had captured you, was rarely seen for the first month. You caught only glimpses of him while cleaning, or at the parties he threw every week. He was polite to all his servants, you noticed. He didn’t allow for any slacking off and he demanded good work, but he was always nicer than you were expecting. Scolding was always mild, and he never grew angry at any mistakes. He seemed fairly even-tempered, something you were rather grateful for.

The first two months went by quickly. You found yourself sinking into an easy routine. The rules had become almost engrained and you didn’t need to focus on following them as much anymore.

That was your first mistake.

It was at one of the revels that you made your second mistake. You, along with several other servants, were required to act as waiters and attendants throughout the night. It was always a difficulty to work with the Fae. They were mercurial and, if you weren’t unfailingly polite, they would take offense. The rules they used to determine courtesy were strange, and seemed to change on a whim. Mostly, you tried to remain neutral and didn’t interact with the guests unless you were requested to. Not talking seemed to help, and they mostly lost interest with someone who wouldn’t rise to their bait after a few minutes.

That didn’t mean that they ignored you entirely, though. One late night, as you were passing a group of Fae amidst a party, they drew their attention to you. “Mortal!” one of them jeered. “You poor thing! Wouldn’t you like to join the fun?”

They were holding a pale golden fruit in their hand. Faerie fruit. The sort that dulled mortal senses and increased suggestibility. Humans danced themselves to death under the effects of the fruit, or did terrible things to please their masters.

The Fae who had jeered at you abruptly pulled their hand back and threw. You lifted a hand, automatically trying to catch the fruit, but it was mushy and splattered apart the second it made contact with your hand.

The scent that came from its juice was syrup sweet and your mouth watered automatically. If you’d been even a little bit more on guard, you would have recognized the temptation and hurried away to wash it off. But you had grown complacent and, barely realizing what you were doing, you lifted a hand to your mouth and sucked some of the juice off.

You had about a second to realize your mistake before your mind fogged over. A lightness entered your head. You smiled, your eyes unfocusing until the scene in front of you was a blur of green and golden lights. Your thoughts drifted in and out, like you were dreaming.

“Come dance with us!” The sharp, grinning Fae extended a hand toward you with a laugh. You giggled back as you took their hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. Happy, content with the world. Everyone around you was so nice, so kind. They smiled and laughed with you as you danced, hands joined.

The world whirled around you, making the blurring affect even stronger. You were starting to feel dizzy, and the laughs were hurting you chest. Yet it was like being tickled. You couldn’t seem to stop. You didn’t want to stop. There was so much cheer around you. How could you stop and disappoint all your new friends?

“Little human!” one of the Fae called, and you stopped dancing to look at them. A new game, maybe? “Little human, come dance here, with me!”

You stepped forward, eager to comply. The Fae were dancing together, feet whirling over a bed of large, thick thorns. Their feet barely seemed to graze the points. They looked so beautiful, whirling and spinning, light as feathers. You stepped forward, moving to join them.

“What is going on here?” The voice was loud and thunderous, booming over the Fae. The dancing came to a stumbling stop. The looked so silly, all shocked and almost frightened. You giggled, shoulders shaking with the force of it. Distantly, you were aware that your stomach was starting to hurt.

Abruptly, you were spun around. Above you was your master, Luminar. He looked so pretty, all wreathed in light. You reached up absently, trailing your fingers along his cheek. “What have I told you about giving the mortal servants golden apples?” he snapped. He seemed angry. Why? Everything was so nice. So dreamy. “Come on. Use your legs.”

He was pulling you away. You were vaguely disappointed to be taken from the party, but you didn’t have the will to resist. You staggered inside, mostly supported by him, and allowed him to lead you up into a private room.

“Lie down.” You collapsed on the bed. The ceiling was twinkling with little lights.

“Stars!” you said, pointing eagerly at them. Luminar ignored you. He was toying with some little glass bottles in a drawer.

“Here. Drink.” He pressed something to your mouth. You obediently took a sip and choked. It was as salty as seawater and you struggled to spit it out. Still, some of it trickled down the back of your throat and even up your nose. As you coughed and spat, the fog in your head started to clear.

Abruptly, you didn’t see anything funny about the situation. Luminar was looking at you with his bright, pale green eyes, holding an empty vial. Your stomach muscles ached from laughing. The mix of salt water and Faerie fruit in your stomach churned uncomfortably.

“Better?” Luminar asked. You began to nod, then stopped.

“I- I’m going to-” Luminar lifted a bucket underneath your mouth and you retched into it.

Finally, you sagged back, gasping and groaning. Luminar lowered the bucket and looked down at you. There was something oddly kind in his gaze. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” you said quietly. “I… Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “I will leave you here to sleep it off.” With that, he stood and swept out of the room, long wings tailing behind him. You sagged back onto the bed. In your mind’s eye, you could still see the gentle expression Luminar had worn on his face.

You woke, muzzy and with a throbbing headache, to the sound of someone entering the room. Luminar was standing in the doorway, holding a tray of food.

“I imagined you were hungry,” he said. “How are you feeling this morning?”

You sat up slowly. “I have a headache,” you admitted quietly. “But other than that, I’m all right.”

Luminar nodded. “Good.” He set the tray on the bed next to you. “Eat. Drink. Restore yourself.”

You had expected him to leave the room, but he merely sat on the bed next to you and watched as you chewed on a chunk of bread. You kept glancing at him as you ate. He stared absently into the middle distance, apparently unperturbed.

“Thank you,” you finally said after you had finished the breakfast. “For everything.”

He nodded his head just a little. There was silence for a few moments. You sipped slowly at the sweet juice he’d brought you. It was some kind of refined nectar, one of the few Faerie foods that humans could safely consume.

“You think I am cruel, don’t you?” The question surprised you. You looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you, and there was something sad in his eyes, like he was exhausted and worn down just by living.

“Er,” you said. The Fae could be easily offended, and being honest and saying yes could induce him to fly into a rage. But lying was a serious offense as well. Luminar caught sight of your expression and his lips twitched into a small smile.

“I know you do. I don’t blame you for it. Humans think poorly of Fae. But we are constrained by different rules than you. We must abide by certain terms, fulfill balances. Humans are far freer than we are.” He looked down at you, eyes glimmering. “I never wanted to hurt any of you.”

With that, he stood and left the room, leaving you more confused and uncertain than you had ever been.

Life went back to normal after that, or as normal as if could be in the service of Luminar. He seemed to keep you away from other Fae after that, getting you to work inside whenever he had large parties. And you saw him more often. He would enter rooms you were working in and occasionally spoke to you if he saw you attending your duties. The relationship became something almost like a friendship.

After about six months in his service, you had formed what seemed to be a tentative companionship. You would speak to each other casually when you came across him, and while he still gave you orders, they felt generally less pushy. It was easy, at times, to forget that you were technically his servant.

“I didn’t want to own servants,” he said eventually. You’d started having regular conversations every day or so.

“Then how come you do?” you asked, brushing dust off a lamp. Luminar fluttered his wings, eyes glittering from the light.

“Remember what I told you about the rules that constrain Fae?” he asked. You nodded. “There are laws of balance. Your blood in the circle obliged me to respond. Knowingly or not, you gave me a part of yourself. I need to strike a bargain with that. In some aspects, allowing humans to work for me is one of the better deals to be struck. There are far worse things Fae can do to humans.”

“Just because it’s not terrible doesn’t mean it’s good,” you said. Luminar smiled, chest lifting with gentle laughter.

“I know. And I am sorry. A year and a day. Half over now, and then you will be able to leave.” He swept out of the room. You stared after him, an odd longing tightening your stomach.

In some aspects, leaving wasn’t really what you wanted. You had been a thief, running form one place to another when you were found out, and you were always found out. Working with Luminar gave you a sense of purpose. And in six months, you would be forced out.

You started researching. Long nights were spent in the library of Luminar’s enormous manor, trying to see how humans lived in the realm of Faerie. Few books told you anything of value. Humans came to Faerie when brought by Fae and were removed again once their contracts were up. When unprotected by such a contract, Faerie was dangerous for humans.

“Researching the realm?” Luminar’s deep voice sounded behind you and you whipped around. Luminar was standing over you, expression soft with curiosity. “I expected you to be in the servant’s house.”

“I wanted to do some research,” you said. “Is that all right?”

Luminar nodded. “Certainly.” He sat down next to you, waving his hands toward the light so they brightened. “What are you looking for?”

Staring into his face made your stomach flutter. The sharp, attractive planes drew your eye. You found yourself staring at his full lips, wondering how they would feel against your own.

Luminar felt the same way, because suddenly he was leaning toward you and you were leaning toward him and his lips were against yours and you were kissing. It sent tingles of excitement through your body and you brought your hands up to press your faces closer together.

Abruptly, Luminar leaned back, breaking contact. He brought a hand up to his lips. “We can’t.” His voice was hushed and trembling. He jolted to his feet, sending the chair scraping backward. “You’ll be back in the human world soon. We can’t.” He turned and hurried from the room, wings fluttering with agitation.

You stared after him for a moment, then turned back to your book. Suddenly, there was a new motivation for your studying.

Every night for weeks, you spent time in the library, reading. Luminar never came in again, but when you did encounter him in the halls, you could see the longing expression on his face. You kept dreaming about him, his mouth on yours.

There was little in the way of solutions, though. All of the contracts seemed to be bargains or deals struck. You weren’t sure what kind of deal you could make with Luminar, and you had nothing to bargain with.

Months passed. You grew more and more frantic, trying to find something, anything you could use. And then, finally, one month before your contract was up, you found something.

A contract between a Fae and a human, one that would allow a human to stay in Faerie as long as they wanted. It was exactly what you needed. But Luminar would need to agree to it.

You found him in his room. He looked startled when you came in. “I did say it wouldn’t be good for us to see each other, didn’t I?” he said. “Coming to my room is bold, but I-”

“I found something,” you said. “A contract that we can have together. One that will let me stay here.”

Luminar blinked, then looked down at the page you were indicating. “A lifemate contract?” he said. A smile quirked his lips. “Are you proposing to me?”

“It’s not necessarily a marriage contract,” you said. “It’ll allow me to stay. And we’ll be connected. I don’t want to go back. You don’t want it either. So if we use this contract, we can stay together.”

Luminar extended a hand to you. “It will bind us together,” he said. “There will always be a connection after this, even if you decide not to physically be with me. Are you all right with that?”

You nodded. “You’re a good person. It’s easy to love you. I’d be glad to be connected with you.”

Luminar smiled. “Then I extend my own hand to you, my dear one, and I allow this contract to be formed. May our hearts be as one and may this vow bind us.”

You reached out, touching his hand with yours. “I take your hand and accept the contract. Our hearts will be one and we will be bound.”

You felt the magic pull, but it paled under the feeling of Luminar leaning into you and pressing a crushing kiss to your lips.

#exophilia #Fae #Fairy #Faerie #Fairy boyfriend #fae boyfriend #monster boyfriend #Luminar #moth fae

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iwritefanfictionnottragedies · 3 years

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21 Questions (George Weasley x Reader)

First Year: The year in which she was extraordinarily lonely, by no fault of her own. Second Year: The year in which it was imperative that she lay low, for apparent fear of... interacting? Third Year: The year in which, unwittingly, she made a friend. Forth Year: The year in which she became his accomplice in mischief, much to her chagrin. Fifth Year: The year in which he became her ally in conflict, despite her being a cantankerous cow. Sixth Year: The year in which she felt inexplicably... sweaty, to be honest. Seventh Year: The year of questions, some of which were superfluous and some of which were very much consequential. FLUFFY STORY UNDER THE CUT

First Year: The year in which she was extraordinarily lonely, by no fault of her own.

Within 24 hours of her Hogwarts Acceptance letter being delivered her parents had packed their bags and disappeared, as they were muggles who were fearful of what they could not understand. They left her with her belongings, as well as €1,000 and, well, trauma. She was a witch, she was 11 years old, and she was alone. So, alone she went to Diagon Alley to purchase her school supplies. Alone she patiently waited for September 1st. Alone she boarded the Hogwarts Express. Alone, she had decided, was okay.

Months passed by, and even the most observant eye would say that she was thriving. She excelled in her studies, and always wore a smile when speaking with her classmates. She was quiet, but friendly. However, while she was technically no longer alone, a new problem had arisen: she was still lonely. Second Year: The year in which it was imperative that she lay low, for apparent fear of... interacting?

Third Year: The year in which, unwittingly, she made a friend.

Sitting on the floor of the empty Gryffindor common room, she examined her textbooks, which she had laid out in front of the fireplace. In the dim moonlight and the glow of the fireplace, she stared at their cracked spines and ripped covers. Many of them were missing pages in key chapters, particularly her Charms book. "Epoximise" she whispered, her wand pointed at her Potions textbook. A thin coat of adhesive appeared on the book cover, and she laid a page from the Daily Prophet atop it to keep the book from falling apart any further. She smiled at her handiwork before moving on to the Transfiguration textbook. "Epoximise" she whispered again. As the sticky adhesive appeared on the cover of the book, she heard footsteps behind her, which made her jump.

"Easy there, no need to be jumpy." said the lanky ginger boy, "Just a fellow late-night trouble maker here." She smiled at the boy, who she recognized to be one of the Weasley twins. She looked down at the floor, remembering her books. Hurriedly she began to gather them, but the boy sat next to her and said "Don't be embarrassed! I've done that tons of times to my books." She looked at him quizzically and asked "You have? And here I thought I was being creative!" He laughed and said "Oh, it's not creativity. It's poor people ingenuity, I know it when I see it." She let out a laugh, possibly the first laugh to leave her lips in a year. It felt delightful.

"I must apologize," she said, "I know that we've met before, of course, but I can't remember if you are Fred or George." He flipped his hands through the pages of one of the books on the floor and he smiled. "Yes, of course we've met! I'm George," he said, "it's a million times easier to tell us apart when you get to know us really." She nodded, and began to pick up her books to retreat to her dorm. "Here, let me help you!" said George as he reached for her Transfiguration book. "No, wait!" she yelled, and as she attempted to swat his hand away her hand landed atop the book right next to his. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking at her with concern. She rolled her eyes and said "George, we're glued together by my book." He laughed loudly, and she shushed him. "Well then, just undo the charm." he suggested. She gave a sheepish smile and said "Mate, you'll never guess what pages are missing from my Charms textbook..."

They laughed together at the ridiculousness of their situation. "Well," she said, "I'd normally say that we should go see Madame Pomfrey, but obviously she'd know that we were out of the dorms past curfew." George replied, "I guess we'll have to sit here and chat until the morning. It's okay though. I think we'll be best friends by sunrise, if you ask me."

Forth Year: The year in which she became his accomplice in mischief, much to her chagrin.

The courtyard was buzzing with life as many students chose to spend their Saturday enjoying the brisk Autumn air. Sitting on the ground against a tree, she rubbed her temples out of frustration. "I almost made it through an entire year of friendship without getting roped into your... shenanigans. I was so close!" she huffed. "Well," George said, "Close only counts in horseshoes and lemonade." She snorted, "Hand grenades." Fred noticeably perked up at the mention of explosives, but she cut his thought process short. "The saying is horseshoes and hand gren--" she paused, "You know what? Yep. It's lemonade. Now, tell me what you need my assistance with, so that I can go back to... not assisting you." The twins laughed. "We'll make it brief," said Fred, "but I can't promise that you won't be addicting to our 'shenanigans' by the end of the evening. So, here's where we need you..."

By the end of the year she had been given detention on 9 occasions for her participation in their hijinks.

Fifth Year: The year in which he became her ally in conflict, despite her being a cantankerous cow.

"LET GO OF ME," she shouted as she strained against George's grip, "I'M GOING TO BREAK HER FUCKING LEG, AND I'LL BREAK YOURS TOO IF YOU DON'T LET ME GO." George continued to hold her back even as she violently pushed and pulled against him, attempting to break free so that she could reach Alicia Spinnet. Across the common room, Alicia simply smiled as she stood behind Fred. "I don't know what her problem is." Alicia said feigning innocence, "I was only being honest with her, as a friend, and the next thing I know she is attacking me!" She let out a loud, sarcastic laugh, and lunged toward Alicia. George tightened his grip on her and said. "ALRIGHT, you cantankerous cow! Tell me your side of the story!" She shot him an angry glare.

They stepped away to the corner of the room. George gave her a very serious look but hesitantly nodded so that she'd begin talking. "George, she was talking shit." she said. George gave an exasperated sigh and asked, "Enough for you to want to break her legs?" She inhaled deeply, gathering her thoughts. "George," she said, "she was talking about my parents. She was taking the piss about me being abandoned. That's not okay. I'm not okay." Her eyes met his, and he saw the tears forming in her eyes. "Okay," he said, anger burning through him, "let's do this."

George turned towards Alicia, fire in his eyes, and cracked his knuckles. She gasped and said "You wouldn't hit a girl!" George laughed and drew his wand and said, "No, I wouldn't hit a girl. My mum raised me better than that! I'll curse a girl though." Her eyes grew wide as he waved his wand in her direction. "Mimblewimble," he cast the tongue-tying curse on her, "Hopefully this will teach you to keep my best friend's name out of your mouth."

When the dust settled, she nudged George's arm and asked, "Did you really call me a cantankerous cow?" He laughed and said, "I stand by what I said, honestly. But you're my cantankerous cow, so it's fine."

Sixth Year: The year in which she felt inexplicably... sweaty, to be honest.

In the early hours of the morning, she was awakened by Hermione. She grumbled and rolled over, "Please Hermione, just a few more minutes." Hermione laughed and said "Listen, I'm already being generous. You've received a much more pleasant wake up call than Ron and Harry did. If you get up right now, and dress at lightning speed, you'll have time for a cup of coffee before we leave for the Quidditch Cup." She rolled out of bed and traversed the dim hallways and steep stairs of the Burrow. She entered the kitchen to find that George was already working on coffee. She took a look at him, noting that his hair was tousled in various directions from a poor nights' sleep. He was still wearing what he'd slept in, a maroon pair of pajama pants. He had no shirt on, a detail impossible for her to ignore. As much effort as she made, she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"SHITE!" George yelped, burning his hand on the coffee pot and breaking her trance. "Need any help?" she asked. He looked up and his exhausted eyes met hers, and he smiled. "Of course I do," he said, "can you grab two mugs?" She nodded and crossed the room, avoiding making eye contact with him and his bare chest as she squeezed past him in the narrow path between the sink and the kitchen island. She laughed at herself as she grabbed the coffee mugs. 'Merlin, woman. It's just George, nothing you haven't seen before.'

She crossed the room again, but this time as she attempted to squeeze past him he stopped her in the narrow space. She was caught between the countertop and George, and her heart began to race. His face was close to hers, and he looked her in the eye with a serious look of determination. "So," he said, "How are you feeling about this?" She audibly gulped and broke eye contact to look down at this toned chest again. "I- um, I don't know how I feel about this," she said, "I feel... sweaty, to be honest. Is it hot in here?" George laughed loudly and grabbed the coffee mugs out of her hands, moving away from her to pour coffee. "I wasn't talking about our proximity," he said shaking his head, "I was asking how you were feeling about tonight's quidditch match." The two burst out in laughter, the kind of laughter that makes your belly ache and tears gather in your eyes.

When they settled down, he slid her the cup of coffee. "Have you been staring at my chest?" He asked, a curious and entertained tone in his voice. "Obviously," she said with a nervous chuckle. "It's okay," he said, "to be fair, sometimes I stare at your chest too." He peered down at her cleavage and then winked at her flirtatiously, and she playfully punched him in the arm. However, she felt the blood rush to her face, and it was then that she knew that she was in trouble.

Seventh Year: The year of questions, some of which were superfluous and some of which were very much consequential.

She and George crawled out of the 3rd floor window of the Burrow, laughing she clumsily held onto him for dear life. It was the first day of Summer break before their seventh year, and they were thrilled that Molly had invited her to stay with them until their term began. At George's suggestion, they laid next to each other, precariously perched on the rooftop, to watch the sunset. Their laughter died down as they watched the pink sky turn orange. "How exactly do people watch the sunset?" she asked, "What do we talk about? Do we just sit in silence?" He let out a low chuckle and said, "21 Questions, how about that?" She raised an eyebrow and replied, "I suppose that works. You go first." They both stared up at the sky, and George sifted through his brain for a good question. "Where do you want to be in 10 years?" he asked. Her eyes went wide. "Oh, serious questions." she said, "I suppose I want to be teaching by then. Potions, obviously. Married, might eve have a bun in the proverbial oven. My turn now! What's the luckiest thing that's ever happened to you?" He said "Easy. Meeting you." "That's a copout." she protested. "No it's not. My turn now." he said, "If you could commit one crime without getting caught, what would you do?" Her heart skipped a beat, but she was quick to reply with "I'd steal your heart. My turn. Who do-" "WAIT, do you hear sirens?" he interrupted, "I think they're coming for you." She rolled her eyes. "Shut up," she said, "Who do you look up to the most?" With a seriousness in his voice, George replied "You."

There was a silence that followed, but her thoughts filled that silence with a million questions. Before any of those questions could make the journey from her brain to her mouth, George's hand found hers and held it gently. Her heart began to race. "You're such a git," she said, " You're just trying to make me flustered. It's your turn, as your question." He didn't laugh. "Do you ever think about me?" he asked, "I mean, about us. Together?" She gave his hand a squeeze. "Honestly?" she asked. "Honestly."

"I think about it all the time." she said quietly.

He released her hand, and her heart dropped. Then he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He body was close to hers, and his eyes were starting intently at her. Her eyes were still on the sky, too nervous to look at him. "It's your turn." His voice was barely above a whisper. "How do you know if you've fallen for someone?" Without hesitation he said, "When you want to share the world with them."

Finally she met his gaze as she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, matching his position. With their faces only inches apart, his eyes searched hers looking for a sign that she understood the meaning in his words. Her eyes glanced down from his eyes to his lips, and then back again. "It's your turn, George." He moved closer, his breath tickling her lips as he spoke. "Can I kiss you?" She smirked and whispered back, "I'd be quite confused if you didn't."

Gently, he leaned in and quickly brushed his lips against hers. She rolled onto her back, pulling him on top of her. "Kiss me again" she said. And so, he did. One of his hands found it's way to her waist, and her hands found their way to his hair. They were a tangle of limps and lips and desire, but it was cut short by one final burning question. "My turn," said George, "is cereal a soup?"

The pair burst into laughter, and he rolled himself onto his back and laid next to her. As she laughed, she couldn't help but think to herself that perhaps this was the start of something bigger than either of them could have anticipated. However, even if it wasn't, she knew that this would be a Summer to remember.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x reader #oliver phelps #fluff #fluffy #romance #oneshot

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simplybakugou · 4 years

Text

How can I love the heartbreak, you’re the one I love

↝ Years have passed since Bakugou met you and yet you’re all he ever thinks about. As he reconnects with you after all this time, he can’t help but reminisce on all the moments you spent with him, especially those suffocating and troubling days in the hospital in room 405.

SONG: How can i love the heartbreak, you’re the one i love by AKMU

⋆ PAIRING: bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; angst; hospitals ⋆ WORD COUNT: 14636

A/N: So I initially was going to make this a fic but that shit FLOPPED so i’m just breaking this into different sections. Also, I’ve spent WEEKS trying to write this so please let me know what you think! (plus this is the longest thing I’ve ever written omg).

It’s based off of AKMU’s song. This song is so beautiful and the link to the song is here. I also decided to remake my short fic about terminally ill s/o from a while ago and incorporate that in as well.

Also thank you @bnhabadass for your editing suggestions and especially thank you to @k-atsukidayo. I love you Fey, and thank you again for giving me such amazing suggestions and making this so much better!

Tagging: @freckledoriya

✐posted 05.11.2020✐

❝I purposefully take a few steps back, I look at you walking without me

There is a void beside you upon the gray road you look back❞

The weather was perfect. The breeze was subtle but still strong enough to send chills down Bakugou’s spine as he closed the door to his home behind him. He moved to shove his hands in his pockets, having to put one arm up to shield his eyes from the sun glaring down at him. He sighed as he continued along the brick path, squinting down the road.

The path was crowded and filled with all kinds of people: parents walking with their kids, couples walking hand in hand, and dogs roaming around with their owners. They were all looking up at the same thing: the cherry blossoms. The wind was perfect in assisting the blossoms as the fallen flower petals danced rhythmically against the breeze. They travelled down the path, as if they were leading Bakugou to you.

A few kids in U.A.’s uniform began running down the path, running after the petals. Bakugou couldn’t help but move the corners of his lips upwards, reminiscing on a time that felt like centuries ago.

The time when you were always by his side.

~~~

Bakugou’s leg wouldn’t stop shaking vigorously. His arms were crossed over his chest as he constantly kept checking his watch. You were late…

“If this shitty girl doesn’t show up in the next five minutes I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he grumbled under his breath.

As if you were summoned by his pure rage, you pushed open the doors to the little cafe, scanning the tables to find a certain enraged blonde. After finally locating him, you bowed your head slightly, clapping your hands together. “Forgive me! I’m really sorry.”

Bakugou felt his brow twitch. “You better have a good fucking reason for making me wait. You were the one who wanted help with studying.”

You slung your bag onto the chair next to you, sitting yourself down beside it. You reached into your bag, pulling something out. Leaning on the table, you rested your elbows on the surface. “Have you been to the brick path near school?”

“What?”

“Give me your hand.”

“What the fuck are you trying to do?”

“Just give me your hand!”

Bakugou sighed, rolling his eyes as he complied, extending his hand out in front of him. You placed the item, covering it with your hand cupping over it. “Well, that brick path has all of these beautiful cherry blossom trees. And I was just looking at them ‘cause they finally bloomed and I thought of you!”

You lifted your hand, revealing a few blossoms that you had plucked. Bakugou felt his cheeks burn up, looking the other way to avoid your gaze. “Whatever. Why the fuck would you think of me while looking at some fucking flowers?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I dunno. You were the first thing that came to mind.”

Bakugou moved his hand over, letting the flowers fall onto the table. He opened his English textbook, flipping to the middle. “Let’s just get this over with. We’re in our final year now, there’s no time to fuck around.”

***

A few months had passed since that day that you and Bakugou were preparing for midterms. You kept spending a majority of your evenings with him, using the excuse of needing his intelligence and tutelage in order to pass your classes. He would never admit it, but he enjoyed your company no matter how annoying you could get sometimes. You were just always so joyous, like you could beat the sun’s rays with your own light.

Aizawa continued teaching the class as everyone diligently paid attention. Months ago, a time in which Bakugou hadn’t spent so much time by your side, he would’ve been able to pay attention as well. But here he was, his eyes glued to your empty desk. You had asked to go to the bathroom in the middle of class. An hour had passed and you were still gone.

Aizawa looked at the clock, noticing Bakugou’s busy eyes glued to your desk. He then realized how long you had been gone. “Ashido, go check on Y/N,” Aizawa said, his back to the class as he wrote something on the chalkboard.

Mina nodded, getting up and leaving the classroom. Minutes had passed and Mina hadn’t returned either. Bakugou felt his leg shake up and down as his anxiousness only grew. What the hell is happening?

Mina finally came back, a panicked look on her face. Aizawa recognized this, pulling her out in the hallway and closed the door so the class couldn’t eavesdrop on the conversation.

“What’s that about?” Jirou asked from her seat beside Bakugou.

Kaminari shrugged from beside her. “I’m not sure but it doesn’t look good. Hopefully nothing bad happened to Y/N.”

The rest of class went painstakingly slow. Mina couldn’t focus for the remainder of class either, her eyes fixated on the clock. Everyone wanted to ask so many questions but refrained from doing so. Finally class had ended and Bakugou didn’t hesitate to approach Mina. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero followed, crowding around Mina’s desk.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bakugou demanded.

“Yeah, is Y/N okay?” Kirishima asked.

Mina had her head down, hesitant as she began to speak. “I thought Y/N was just sick which was why she was taking such a long time. But when I went in, she collapsed on the floor. I think she hit her head when she fell, too, because there was blood--”

“Where is she now?” Bakugou interrupted.

“Recovery Girl transferred her to Meijo Hospital a few blocks down,” Mina responded.

Bakugou didn’t hesitate to run out of class, his feet moving faster than he could control as if they were moving on their own. He could faintly hear his friends calling out for him but he ignored them and managed to get out of the building as fast as he possibly could, his eyes locked onto the silhouette of the tall hospital building.

He couldn’t understand why he felt something inside of him snap when he had heard that you were hurt. After all, you transferred to U.A. at the beginning of your final year. You were an outsider and you didn’t know if you would be able to assimilate into class A. But, fortunately for you, Mina was the first friend you made, inviting you to hang out with her friends often. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero practically opened their arms to you when you first met them. But your eyes were always drawn to the sulky blonde headed boy with the permanent frown on his face. The day you met Bakugou, you made it your mission to pester him and get close to him. Initially, Bakugou had found you to be the most irritating person he had ever had to deal with. But as the time went by and you were practically always by his side to the point where your classmates thought you two were dating, he began to oddly enjoy your company.

Bakugou ignored the stares he got from bystanders as they stared at the kid in the U.A. uniform running towards the hospital. Once he did reach it, Bakugou went straight to the front desk. “Is (L/N) (F/N) here?”

“One second,” the receptionist said, looking through her files. “Yes, she’s in room 405.”

Bakugou immediately moved towards the elevators until he noticed the long line of people patiently waiting. He cursed under his breath, running towards the stairs. His feet moved as fast they could, skipping steps all the way up until the fourth floor. His eyes began roaming rapidly at the numerous rooms in the hallway, finally reaching 405. He slid open the door, panting as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes widened at the sight before him.

You were sitting upright on the hospital bed, a bandage around your forehead. An IV drip was attached to your forearm. You flinched at the sudden sound of the door sliding open, turning your head to the source of the sound. Your face lit up at the sight of your closest friend visiting you, your lips turning upwards. “Katsuki.”

Bakugou sighed, finally able to catch his breath. He glared at you. “You fucking idiot. What the hell happened? Why’d you collapse?”

You smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “It seems I overworked myself. My quirk takes a lot out of me, you know.”

Your quirk, Flame, was pretty simple, just being able to expel flames from your body. But with finals and graduation creeping around the corner not to mention that you had only transferred to U.A., you felt that you had pushed yourself to keep up with everyone around you. Ignoring your health was foolish but you wanted to become a pro hero even if it was the last thing you could do.

“But I promise that I’m fine. I promise that I’ll get better before you know it.” Bakugou rolled his eyes at your foolishness. You patted the cushion of the chair that was beside your bed. “Can you stay for a while and tell me what I missed in class, Katsuki?”

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you to stop calling me by my first name? You’re the only one who does that shit!” You snickered, ignoring his words. Bakugou sighed, complying anyways as he sat down. He dropped his book bag beside him and pulled out his notes and spent the rest of his visiting hours helping you as best as he could.

~~~

Bakugou smiled at the kids in their U.A. uniforms as the memory of the two of you in that hospital room replayed over and over in his mind. It was the start to a new budding romance and yet you were damned from the start.

If Bakugou could take it all back, he sometimes thinks that he would. The pain and suffering he had to endure once meeting you was a feeling he wouldn’t wish upon even his worst enemy. But everytime he thinks he would’ve been better off without meeting you, he knew he wasn’t fooling himself with such a lie. You were always on his mind ever since the day he met you back in U.A., like you had casted a spell on him since the beginning.

And after all these years had passed, you were still charming him. You’re still the only thing on his mind.

❝Just then, I realized that I can never leave your side

No matter the distance and the problems that we faced, it's easier to fight against than the thought of letting go

So, tell me now, how can I love the heartbreak when you’re the one I love

To give you up because of love or from the heartache and pain, oh my heart, that's something I can never do❞

As Bakugou walked down the brick road, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, answering the call and brought the device to his ear.

“What?”

“Hello to you, too,” Kirishima said with a laugh. “I was just calling ‘cause I don’t see you at the agency today. Kaminari, Sero, and I were coming by to see if you wanted to catch up after all this time. It has been two years since we’ve talked about our lives other than work, ya know.”

“I took the day off. I’m gonna spend it with Y/N.”

Kirishima paused for a moment and sighed. “After all these years, you’re still ditching us to see her.” His tone was light so Bakugou knew he was only teasing him. “I get it. It’s been years since you’ve seen her. We’ll catch up another time.”

“Thanks… for understanding.”

“Don’t mention it, man. Say hi to her for me.” As he hung up, Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a strange tug in his chest, as if there was a fire burning inside him. Everytime he thought about you, you always made him feel that way and the way you always “promised” to get better. Promise. That was your favorite word. You always made promises that you knew you couldn’t keep. Bakugou couldn’t help but reminisce on all the times you made such foolish lies. You were better off becoming an actress than being a hero, being too foolish to be a hero. A foolish hero that cared more about others than her own health.

~~~

“Don’t forget the food!” Mitsuki yelled from the kitchen as she pushed piles of bento wrapped in furoshiki into her son’s hands. “Oh! And she’s probably bored in there so I got her some magazines.” She opened up Bakugou’s bookbag and shoved the magazines inside.

Bakugou groaned. “You’re going overboard. She’s gonna think I’m fucking insane.”

Mitsuki flicked her son upside the head. “No, she’s gonna see how much you care for her. Now get out!”

She practically shoved her son outside, slamming the door shut. Bakugou grumbled under his breath holding the furoshiki in one hand and shoving his other hand in his pocket. The sun was beaming down on him and the cloth in his hand made his palm sweat. The several children playing around outside irritated Bakugou, especially when they started to stare at the now infamous class A hero in training. Nevertheless he ignored them, thankful that Meijo Hospital was so close to his house.

He entered the building, the nurses and receptionists greeting him as he was now a frequent visitor. They whispered amongst themselves, fascinated that among your classmates and friends, Bakugou was the only one who never failed to see you every single day, no matter how busy he was with finals and graduation.

Once the elevator reached the fourth floor, it was like second nature by now for Bakugou’s feet to take him to room 405. He slid the door open, surprised to see your bed empty. One of the nurses turned around as she was changing the sheets on your bed. “Oh, Bakugou. If you’re looking for Y/N, she’s on the roof.”

Bakugou was puzzled. “The roof? The hell is she doing up there?”

The nurse laughed at his reaction. “She wanted some fresh air. She’s been holed up in this room for months so we let her spend some time up there.”

Bakugou nodded, closing the door as he made his way back to the elevator. Truthfully, it had been months since you were first admitted to the hospital. No one told Bakugou why you were in there, and everytime he asked you about it, you would quickly change the subject. It was quite obvious that there was something you were hiding, especially since even the nurses and doctors never told Bakugou anything. There was no way that overexerting your quirk could make you hospitalized for all this time.

Bakugou pushed open the door to the roof with his foot, shielding his eyes with his free hand from the beaming sun. He could barely see from the sun’s fierce rays but through slit and squinted eyes, he could make out your back. You were facing away from him, looking down below the building. He walked closer to you, setting down his bag and the food gently so he didn’t scare you. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the ledge on the concrete, looking down at what you were engrossed in.

The height of the enormous hospital building allowed you to see for miles upon miles of buildings and freeways. U.A. was at the epicenter of all of the attention, the school standing tall amongst the smaller buildings. But amongst all of the chaos of the city, there was a brick path, which was elongating throughout the city. Among that path, rows upon rows of cherry blossom trees decorated the edges as if meticulously laid out like ornaments.

You finally took notice of Bakugou's existence, flinching a little at his sudden presence. “Katsuki? I didn’t even hear you come.”

Bakugou gestured to the view below you. “Probably ‘cause you were too focused on this.”

You smiled, resting one forearm on the ledge due to your other arm being connected to the IV drip. “It just looks so pretty. The trees stand out so much, especially all the pink petals floating around.”

“Only you’d pay attention to something so dumb.”

You jutted out your bottom lip in a pout. “You’re just a debbie downer and can’t appreciate life in all its glory.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes at you, but noticed how your knees began to tremble as you gripped tighter onto the IV stand for support. Before your legs caved in, nearly crashing onto the concrete, Bakugou sprung quickly into action. He caught you, protected you, one arm grabbing your hip and the other circling your lower back. You were flustered, not only from the sudden contact, but from the weakness of your limbs.

Bakugou fought off the urge to look away from how close the two of you were, focusing on maneuvering you over to one of the benches that were laid out on the rooftop. “Are you okay?”

You blinked, as if you were taking yourself out of a trance from the shock. “I’m… I’m fine.”

Bakugou felt his cheeks burn up as he thought about what he just did and as a way to take his attention from that, he decided to confront you with a question he so desperately wanted to know the answer to, “Why are you really here for? There’s no way using your quirk too much can make you fucking collapse like this.”

You pursed your lips together, wheeling the IV over to the side of the bench. “It’s actually complicated. I’ve always been sick since I was a kid so this happens sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

You nodded. “It’s happened before but I always bounce back up, I swear. You don’t have to worry about me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou scoffed, looking the other way. “I didn’t say shit about me worrying. The others kept annoying me and asking questions about, s’all.”

You laughed, knowing Bakugou’s behavior all too well. “Speaking of, why’d you visit this time?”

“Alright, I’ll just fucking leave then--”

“No!” You said, laughing as you grabbed onto his forearm and pulled him back down next to you. Your touch was cold against his warm skin “I wasn’t complaining. I really do enjoy your company.”

“Tch, you better.” He leaned down and grabbed the furoshiki and his bookbag. “I didn’t have my old hag pack you all this food and take more notes for you for nothing.”

“Your mom cooked for me again?” You asked, your mouth watering already despite not even consuming Mitsuki’s delicious food yet. “You really don’t have to do all this for me, I’m alright, I swear.”

“‘Alright’ my ass. I’ve told you before that I don’t mind doing this and I’m not just gonna stop because you feel bad.” He pulled out his notebooks, ignoring your groans. Finals were around the corner and then came graduation. Bakugou, although he would never admit it to you, was concerned with what you were planning to do here on out. No matter how many times you tried to convince him and tell him that you were going to get better soon, he couldn’t believe you.

A gust of wind past as you felt your (H/C) locks sway along with its rhythm. The pages to Bakugou’s notebooks turned rapidly. You let out a gasp as the wind died down. “Look!”

The cherry blossoms from the path had blown its petals over with the wind. They fell softly and silently, as if they were snowflakes in the winter’s harsh conditions. But the sun contradicted this illusion as its ray lit up the petals like tiny pink fairy lights. You were smiling from ear to ear at the sight, cupping your hands together as an attempt to catch as many petals as you could. Bakugou watched on, feeling his heart rate increasing the more he laid his eyes on you.

You turned to him. “Close your eyes,” you commanded.

Bakugou sighed, not having the energy to defy you and knowing that you were planning to do something with those petals. That was why your next actions shocked him more than he could have ever imagined.

He heard you let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time ‘cause I was too scared to do it. But I’ve been feeling a little… brave now.”

Before Bakugou could let out the words “do what?” he sucked in a breath as he felt your warm lips plant themselves onto his own as you cupped his face in your cold hands. The wind continued to blow softly, your hair flowing along with it as the fruity smell of your hair engulfed his nostrils. Your kiss was gentle like your smile and Bakugou felt himself become hotter. Your lips were soft and warm, unlike your ice cold touch.

You pulled away, your face flushed as the gravity of your actions set into your mind. Bakugou felt his own face heat up as he began to realize what you had done, dropping the notebooks from his lap. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape in incredulity. You let out a snicker, immediately angering Bakugou.

“What the hell is so funny?” He asked, his cheeks flushed.

You shook your head. “You just looked so cute, Katsuki.”

“C-ute?” Bakugou whispered slowly in disbelief. You were unbelievable, mind-boggling at times to him.

You sighed. “I just didn’t know how to thank you. But every time I tried thinking of a way, nothing came up so I decided to do that.”

You stared at Bakugou’s face for a minute, basking in his expression. For a second, you felt a tug in your chest, like you didn’t want to ever forget his expressive crimson eyes. You scooted closer to him on the bench and leaned over, wrapping your arms around his neck as best as you could from your position. Everything you did just sent utter confusion to Bakugou’s brain, his body feeling rigid against your touch. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. If I’m being honest, I don’t know exactly when I’ll get better. It might be four months or four years, I don’t know.”

You pulled away from him, holding his hands in your own. He had callouses all over the palms of his hands but even though there were bumps and ridges on his skin, he felt so warm and soothing. “You don’t have to put up with this anymore. You can walk out right now, and I won’t think ill of you. You’re heading into the real world as a pro and you deserve to not have to worry about me.”

Bakugou felt his face become hotter, but not from shock or embarrassment this time. He felt angry with you. He was angered that despite everything he had done for you, the daily visits, the tutor sessions, or the lunch breaks with him, you felt as if he was ready to just walk away.

Bakugou parted his lips to say something but you shook your head. “You don’t have to say anything now, I’m serious. I honestly don’t know when I’ll get better. I have my family looking after me so you don’t have to worry about me. You should focus on finals and graduation and your future.”

His eyes stared back into your own, trying to decipher what was going through that head of yours. The things you said and did were all unfathomable and incomprehensible. It made things even harder for Bakugou to say anything. Only you would be the kind of person to kiss someone and then give them the option to walk out of your life.

Before Bakugou could even think another thought, the door to the rooftop entrance opened. Your nurse smiled at the two of you, pointing at her watch to indicate that it was time for your medicine. You nodded, using your IV stand as a crutch as you pulled yourself up to your feet. Bakugou stood up quickly, holding your forearm in his hand to steadily hold you up.

“Can you walk?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Don’t underestimate me too much.”

Ignoring your words, Bakugou stood behind you, ready to catch you if you so happened to fall. He had his hand hovering over the small of your back as you walked back into the building. The nurse smiled at Bakugou as she put her hand to the IV stand. “I’m guessing we’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You smiled and waved back at him. “Thank you and your family for everything, Katsuki. And please consider what I said seriously.”

Bakugou watched as you and the nurse walked back to room 405, the sound of the door sliding open and close echoing through the hallway. He stayed there for a few moments before finally deciding to go back home.

***

On any other day, Bakugou was able to fall asleep fairly quickly and early as he was unusually strict about his sleeping schedule. But tonight, his mind was whirring with an abundance of thoughts. And you were the only thing that kept popping up in his mind. He felt himself blush as he envisioned your lips on his over and over again. He threw the duvet off of him as he began to grow hot the more he saw your face. Bakugou got up and went to the bathroom; turned the sink on and splashed cold water onto his face.

Your words and voice kept echoing through his mind as well. He wished he could tell you how he felt and how angry he felt when you spoke to him as if you were running on borrowed time. But he didn’t get the chance to question you any further.

A few knocks came through from the opposite side of the door, snapping Bakugou out his trance as he opened the door. Masaru stood by the doorframe, a puzzled expression on his face. “Katsuki, what’re you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Bakugou said curtly, flicking the light switch off and making his way back to his bedroom.

Masaru followed him, standing by the door as he watched his son sit on the edge of his bed and stare up at the ceiling. “Is something bothering you?”

“It’s nothing, just school stuff.”

“Is it about Y/N?” Bakugou looked back down at his father and Masaru smiled as he was able to correctly read his son. “I had a feeling something happened with her.”

Masaru walked inside and closed the door behind him, turning the light on. He sat beside Bakugou as his son continued staring at the space in front of him. “How’s she doing?”

Bakugou let out an exasperated sigh. “I can’t tell for sure. She’s not giving me a straight answer and it’s pissing me off. Like she’s keeping a huge secret from me.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, internally deciding whether or not to confide in his father. Deciding to do so, he glanced at Masaru momentarily. “I need advice.”

Masaru raised his brows slightly. He knew Bakugou as someone who always kept to himself and disliked others prying in his life. It was the first time he was coming forward and asking for something. “Of course, son! What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Y/N. She was being… nice...” Bakugou cleared his throat, not wanting to address the kiss, “she was being nice all day but all of a sudden she said some bullshit about giving me the option to walk out of her life and not have to worry about her. It’s all I can think about and it’s fucking pissing me off.”

“Why is it making you feel annoyed?”

Bakugou turned around to face his father, an irritated expression on his face. “Because I’ve been busting my ass off and helping her out all this time and she’s repaying me by saying she wants me to ‘think about my future.’ She’s acting like she’s gonna die tomorrow and she’s fucking giving up.”

“Hmm…” Masaru hummed, thinking for a moment before continuing. “Seems to me that she’s trying to spare your feelings.”

Bakugou furrowed his brows in confusion. “Spare my feelings?”

“I think it’s safe to assume that what Y/N is dealing with isn’t something that’s going to allow her to live her life normally like she used to a few months ago. This… illness that she’s dealing with must be long-term and she doesn’t want you to have to see her in her most vulnerable state. She wants you to focus on your life.”

Bakugou scoffed, his hands clenching into fists. “That idiot… why the fuck would I spend so much time visiting her and looking after her if I was gonna just walk away like a fucking moron? If she thinks she can just deal with this all without at least talking to someone then she’s a bigger idiot that I thought she was.”

“So you’re trying to say that you’re going to always be there for her no matter what?”

Bakugou hesitated, realization setting in as he began to understand the whirlwind of confused thoughts and feelings inside of him. “Yeah…”

Masaru smiled. “Then go tell her! It’s no good for you to just sit around and talk to me. The poor girl probably thinks you’re just leaving like that.”

Bakugou’s hands rested on his knees, fingers clenching around the fabric of his pants as he pondered momentarily. Everytime he attempted to figure out what to say around you, he couldn’t help but feel mentally aggravated. You were always confusing him and throwing curveballs at him to make him feel thirty different emotions at the same time. Bakugou turned to face his Dad once more.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna say when I get there but I’ll try.” He got up, grabbing his hoodie as he made his way out. He stopped in the hallway, turning around. “Thanks… I guess.”

Masaru smiled as he watched his son grab his keys and leave the house. In all of the years he’s watched his only child grow, he’s never seen the amount of emotion and vigor Bakugou possessed until he was around you or talked about you. Even a girl he had known for only more than a couple of months had such an effect on him that even he didn’t realize what you were doing to him.

***

Bakugou opened the doors to the hospital, his chest rising up and down as he attempted to recollect himself after sprinting all the way here. The receptionist at the front desk looked at him with a concerned look. “Bakugou? What’re you doing here so late? Visiting hours just finished.”

Bakugou leaned on the counter. “Please let me see her. I just need a few minutes, not that long.”

The woman looked weary, looking down at her clipboard but Bakugou wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Five minutes. I just need to tell her something and I’ll leave. I swear.”

The woman sighed. “I’ll be in real trouble for this so please make it quick. Five minutes is all you get.”

Bakugou sighed in relief, running towards the stairs before the woman could even utter another word. He used his quirk to maneuver himself up quicker than normal and kicked open the door once he reached the fourth floor. He didn’t bother knocking on your door either, sliding the door open so quickly it clattered against the wall causing a loud clank.

You jumped in your bed, dropping one of the notebooks Bakugou had given you. Sitting up, you were puzzled as to why he was here so late. “Katsuki, what’re you--”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You were taken aback, usually being accustomed to his abrasiveness. “What?”

He took a few steps towards you, standing directly in front of your bed. The proximity of his body to yours even made you flustered. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re sick. You think I didn’t realize that you were going through something serious after being hospitalized for months? There’s no way I’m leaving you now, not when you’re acting like you’re fine when you’re obviously having to deal with a shitty situation. And I don’t give a fuck about what you say or think, I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not.”

Bakugou continued breathing heavily, both from coming here at such a fast pace and from his own words that were spewing out of his mouth. Every other time he was around you, he didn’t know what the right thing to say was, always ending up second guessing himself. But that was every other time. He finally decided to go with his gut and tell you how he was feeling without thinking about the aftermath.

You smiled, laughter escaping your lips. The sound filled the room and Bakugou was confused. “Why… Why the hell are you laughing?!”

You giggled, pulling on his shirt and making him sit by your bed. Cupping his face in your hands, you grinned widely. “You’re incredible, Bakugou Katsuki.”

Bakugou stared back at you, ignoring the heat in his cheeks as he felt your glacial-like hands against his skin. He took your hands away from his face and you watched curiously as he held your hands earnestly. He controlled his quirk enough to heat your hands up, making you feel warmth in your fingertips for the first time in months.

Your fingers brushed over the various calluses on his hands. “I heard you loud and clear. And I’m sorry if I made you angry with what I said. I just didn’t want you to have your hopes up.”

He looked into your eyes directly and intently. “The minute I met you I had my hopes up. I’ve had my hopes up every time I’ve been around you. I mean it, Y/N. You’re gonna have to rip me apart limb from limb if you want me to leave your side now.”

You laughed again, squeezing his hand in yours. In that moment, you had never felt so much warmth practically radiating off of another person. Although all of these feelings and emotions were stirring inside you, you were too afraid to do anything with them. The news of the severity of your sickness made you feel more ambitious than usual but it also made you more hesitant. You didn’t want Bakugou to be involved in something that he wouldn’t know what would be the outcome. Who knew when you would get better and if you would ever recover completely, but in that moment, you refused to let the physical nature of your body control how you would live your life.

❝Should I turn back around a few more times?

We walk along together upon the desolate road, conversation lacking substance

We look out into the distance where the light shines

I realized just then I can no longer move forward

Every step brings me closer to our end and the hand I used to hold seems to vanish in the wind❞

Bakugou shoved his phone in his pocket, the sweat already formulating in his hands as he felt the heat of the summer take its effect on him. He paid no mind to the various looks that he received from onlookers and passerbys. Kids bounced up and down excitedly to their parents, whispering, “Look, it’s Ground Zero!”

Even the old lady running the flower cart was appalled as the infamous hero stopped in front of her stand. She stared curiously as Bakugou inspected the variety of bouquets she had laid out before him. He had his eyes set on a specific one: a completely white bouquet of tulips with hints of pink cherry blossoms hidden behind the fragile white petals.

Bakugou pointed to the bouquet, handing the elderly woman a wad of cash. “I’ll take that one.”

The woman was snapped from her staring, grabbing the bouquet and handing it to him. She smiled. “That must be for someone special.”

Bakugou looked down at the bouquet and down the long path he had yet to walk past. He smiled slightly. “You could say that…”

~~~

Bakugou clenched the bag of pastries in his left hand tightly as he pushed open the now familiar doors to Meijo Hospital. Yaoyorozu and Mina were excited and bubbly when they told Bakugou about visiting you when they ran into him during patrol. Truthfully, he felt guilty for not visiting you as often as he could. Now being a pro hero, he was constantly given work that put him in a position to have to rely on texting and calling you. Once he was free of work, it was already too late as visiting hours were closed. Nevertheless, you always reassured him and told him that you understood that he was busy saving people and you never once complained either. But he couldn’t help but think: were you lonely in that desolate room?

“Ground Zero!” The same receptionist behind the desk from Bakugou’s days in U.A. exclaimed with a bright smile. The other fairly new receptionists were shocked at the sight of the newly professional hero before them. “It’s been so long, I was wondering when you were coming.”

“I was busy. Is she still in room…?”

“405? Yup, she’s still in the same room,” the receptionist said, gesturing down the wide room towards the elevator.

Bakugou made his way towards the elevators, stopping in front of them as he finally took notice of the numerous eyes set on him as people began whispering to one another. Even though he thought he would’ve gotten used to the attention, and although most days he didn’t mind it, he felt particularly annoyed that day. He rolled his eyes, choosing to take the stairs instead. He trudged up the stairs, his footfalls echoing through the empty and long space.

The closer he got to the fourth floor, the heavier his chest felt. The last time he saw you was almost three weeks ago and he noticed how you had gotten sicker and sicker. Your cheekbones were poking against your skin as your face looked sunken in. Seeing how you had not only lost a considerable amount of weight but also how you looked weaker overall made Bakugou experience a pain he never thought he’d be able to feel. And despite your deteriorating appearance, you still had the brightest smile on your face. Your eyes lit up in a manner like no other and you continued to amaze Bakugou.

Bakugou finally reached your door, lingering outside for a few moments. He peered inside through the small frame of glass, watching as you sat up on your bed and looked down at your hands. You had a candle in your hands, taking in a large breath before attempting to use your quirk. You were fully concentrated on the wick of the candle as you slowly lifted your hand to the wick. Just as a small spark of a flame was beginning to form at the palm of your hand, you couldn’t control it and the flames engulfed the entire candle.

Right as Bakugou moved to push open the door to help you, you dropped it to the floor, instinctively grabbing the fire extinguisher and putting the mess out. You dropped the extinguisher to the floor as well, the metal causing a loud clanging sound to erupt even past the door. Bakugou watched as your fists grabbed the bed sheets in aggravation. The tears naturally fell from your eyes and there was no stop to them. You were holding in so many emotions and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was too tiring to act like you were always kept together when you just wanted to crumble sometimes.

Bakugou felt his hand clenching the handle of the door, slowly and quietly sliding it open. You didn’t bother looking up, expecting one your parents to have walked in to console you. “Mom, Dad, please leave me alone. I really want to be alone.” The words left your lips like a whisper.

You were greeted by a pair of sturdy arms wrapping themselves around your shaking body, a familiar yet comforting smell, hints of a caramel and earth fragrance engulfing your nostrils. Bakugou was warm against you, like he always was. But he felt even warmer that day.

Bakugou rubbed your back, dropping the bag of pastries on the stand by your bed. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on and I wanna think that you’re keeping it from me to spare my feelings. But you’re not in this alone. You don’t have to shoulder this pain on your own. You’re human and you don’t deserve to beat yourself up over this shit.”

The lump in your throat rose as uncontrollable sobs escaped your lips. Hearing Bakugou’s voice, one that you had missed listening to, made you feel comforted but the severity of your condition was taking a toll on not only your body but also your mental well-being. It had already been nearly two years since you were hospitalized.

Your tears painted his black tee but Bakugou didn’t mind as he rested his cheek against the top of your head and continued to rub your back. Sometimes the only thing you could do was let the tears fall until they ran out and it made it better to have someone there to just hold you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, wiping away the tears from your face and pulling away from Bakugou.

His hands rests on your shoulders, staring at you with disbelief and concern. “You don’t have to be sorry about this.”

You shook your head. “I… I should’ve just rejected you that night. I shouldn’t have let you get close to me.”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” The way your voice sounded frantic and rushed was mildly scaring Bakugou.

“The doctor is giving me the option of surgery to help me out but the chances of me making it out alive is slim,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke.

Bakugou was perplexed, not understanding why you needed surgery in the first place but it also made him realize the severity of your condition. You looked up at him, laughing at yourself as you realized Bakugou’s confusion as you hadn’t told him what was happening to you. “I’m sorry for not explaining it before… but without making it too complex, my quirk is hurting me. It’s funny ‘cause it’s such a simple quirk, just some flames, but it’s not simple at the same time. Katsuki… my quirk is destroying me from the inside out.”

Bakugou didn’t realize how tightly he was gripping your shoulders as his crimson eyes looked back and forth from one eye to the other. He was waiting for the punchline, waiting for this to be a sick joke and that you weren’t in such a serious situation. He wanted to see your face break out into a smile, that same smile that made him fall head over heels for you. He waited for a moment but he felt his heart shatter to pieces as he continued to look back at the broken girl sitting before him.

He engulfed you back into his arms, holding onto your frail body tight enough that it wasn’t hurting you. He nuzzled his face into the crook on your neck, feeling the frustration build up within him. He never wanted to let you go ever again.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

The tears started culminating again as the sobs escaped your lips. Your hands gripped onto Bakugou’s black tee so tightly that you could feel your own fingernails stab into your palm. “I don’t know what to do, Katsu. What do I do? I’m so scared.”

Bakugou was at a loss for words. He didn’t know either, didn’t know how to comfort you or how to take away the fear you were experiencing. He pulled away from you, brushing away the hairs that were sticking to your tear soaked cheeks.

He let out a sigh. “If this surgery works, will you be okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a success, my quirk won’t be any good but I’ll be able to live again. But if I don’t take it… there’s barely a guarantee that I’ll be able to live, too.”

Bakugou’s lips curled upwards slightly. “Then there’s your answer. You need to take any chance to get better, to get out of this fucking room. This is your life, Y/N. And I know you’re not the type to take this shit lying down.”

You sniffled, nodding along with him. “I am tired of this room. And… I just want to walk on my own two feet again. But I’m just so scared. I know that if I don’t take this surgery, I’ll be dead but this is just speeding up the process and the stakes are so high.”

Bakugou brought his hand up and patted your hair down. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Not when you’ve got your family and friends here. Not when you’ve got me here and there’s no way I’m letting some fucking quirk or sickness take you from me.”

A small laugh erupted within you, the first smile you had for weeks on your face. You brought your usual icy-cold hands up to cup Bakugou’s face, rubbing your thumb along the new scar on his brow bone from the last villain’s attack. “I keep hearing all the nurses say how strong and handsome ‘Pro Hero Ground Zero’ is. And whenever I see you on the news, I keep imagining the day I get to see you in your hero costume and see in person how you keep saving people’s lives.”

Your smile intensified as you looked back up at Bakugou’s eyes. You were deprived three weeks of seeing your boyfriend, wanting to bask in this moment longer than usual. “I kept thinking of that, you know, kept thinking about the day I can see you and spend time with you outside of this dreadful room. It’s been the only thing keeping me going.”

You sighed, leaning into him and pressing your cheek against his chest. You could hear how fast his heart began to beat, how even the slightest touch made him go crazy. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all of the things you’ve done for me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou scoffed, bringing his arms up to hold you against him. “I haven’t done shit, if anything I’m doing the bare minimum. All I’m doing is seeing you, that’s it.”

You shook your head against him. “You don’t understand. As much as I appreciate and love my parents and the others for visiting, the way I feel when I see your face is a feeling I can’t describe in words. Sometimes I feel like giving up, just throwing in the towel ‘cause sometimes that’s just easier. But then I think of you and how persistent and determined you are. I think about how you’ve never given up in your life, not even for a second. Most people see that ambition in you as arrogant but I see it as brave. And I want to be like you.”

Bakugou sighed once more. “You’re unbelievable. You’re the one in the hospital and here you are hyping me up and making my ego bigger than it already fucking is.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips. Your arms tightened around his firm torso. “You’re a hero, Katsuki. You’re my hero.”

❝So, tell me now, how can I love the heartbreak when you’re the one I love,

To give you up because of love or from the heartache and pain

No, my heart, that's something I can never do❞

Bakugou groaned as his phone began vibrating once again. He begrudgingly fished it out on his pocket, answering it without bothering to acknowledge the caller ID. “What?”

“What, even your mother can’t get a decent ‘hello’ just ‘cause her son’s famous now?” Mitsuki huffed from the other line.

Bakugou rolled his eyes as he continued walking down the path. “What is it?”

“Kirishima called and told me that you’re visiting Y/N.” That fucking snitch… “Your dad wanted me to check up on you since it’s been two years since you’ve seen her.”

“He’s worrying for nothing. I’m fine.”

“Katsuki, you’re not fooling anyone. I can smell the bullshit all the way from here.” Bakugou could hear his mother sigh. “Are you sure you need to see her today? The way you two ended things...”

“Something’s telling me to meet up with her today, okay? I need to see her.”

Mitsuki paused before letting out another sigh. “I can’t even complain about your stubbornness ‘cause you got it from me. Since you’ve made up your mind, tell her ‘hi’ from me and your dad. And tell her we’ve missed her.”

“Alright.” He hung up, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He felt his heart skip a beat when the cool metal touched his fingertips. His feet stopped moving, the gust of wind blowing against his body as numerous cherry blossom petals floated against the wind. The metal band shined in the sun’s light, the giant diamond sitting on the band shining even brighter. Bakugou’s fingers curled around the ring in a fist. The memories from this ring were his favorite, one that he could recall perfectly. It was the one of the last times he saw that beautiful smile on your face, the smile that radiated purity and serenity.

~~~

The weather was practically unbearable that day. Bakugou could feel beads of sweat sliding down his forehead and neck as well as a pool forming at his palms and fingertips. Not only was he worn out from work and patrolling, the weather was just adding onto the trouble.

“Hmm, I wonder who you’re going to visit, Bakugou,” the same old receptionist teased as Bakugou walked up to the front desk and signed his name under the visiting section. She gasped as she took the clipboard from him.

“If I’m not here, who’s gonna keep that shitty girl company?” Bakugou said with a smirk, gripping the plastic bag in his hand.

The receptionist laughed as he walked away and said good-bye. It was like second nature by now to walk into Meijo Hospital to the point where Bakugou recognized nearly every doctor and nurse in your wing. A few of them grinned as he walked past them, going towards good ole room 405.

Bakugou slid the door open, confused as to why your room was empty. He looked down the hallway, getting the attention of one of the nurses. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She was with Nurse Takahashi earlier. She wanted some fresh air so I think she’s on the first floor,” the nurse responded.

Bakugou sighed, sliding the door shut. “This girl’s making me go through this whole fucking building to find her…” he thought to himself.

He begrudgingly made his way down to the first floor, deciding to take the elevator for once. Once he reached the lobby, he scanned the area, attempting to spot your (H/C) locks. He stepped outside, getting frustrated as he couldn’t figure out where you were. Knowing you, you were most likely hiding somewhere trying to scare him.

Which was exactly what you were doing.

Your attempt at popping out from the bush area, screaming ‘boo!’ was a fail as not only did Bakugou expect you to do that, but your being in a wheelchair didn’t help either.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You’re always doing shit to give me a hard time, huh?”

You grinned widely. “Of course. I have to keep you on your toes.”

You wheeled yourself forward, heading away from the building. “Come on!”

“Are you even allowed to be out here?”

You nodded. “Mhm. Takahashi let me have some free time since I’m fully recovered from the surgery. Plus, I told him Ground Zero was coming to keep an eye on me.”

Bakugou sighed, placing the plastic bag in your lap as he took the handles on the wheelchair in his fists and wheeled you forward. “You’re not on the IV anymore?”

You shook your head, gasping inwardly in delight at the sight of the popsicles inside the bag. “I’m off pain killers. It’s been two weeks since the surgery, you know.”

“You still have to be careful. Didn’t that nurse guy say that there still isn’t a one-hundred percent chance of that quirk of yours being destroyed?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, licking the cool popsicle. “I’m fine, I swear. You’d think that with the six years we’ve been together you’d trust me more.”

“It’s ‘cause I’ve known you for six damn years that I know you get too excited and get reckless,” Bakugou huffed.

You snickered, leaning back. The preparation for the long-awaited surgery was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of your life. Just waiting for the day to come was the scariest part. Due to the severity of the process, as the medical staff was attempting to extract your quirk from you, it took years to prepare for it. Although using something as drastic as the Quirk-Destroying Drug used by the villain Overhaul would have made the process quicker and easier, the drug was mandated illegal for the purpose of the drug as well as the way in which it was created.

Once you went through with the surgery, the recovery period was also difficult to deal with. Your body was learning how to function again as years have passed since the quirk was slowly killing your insides. Although you were off painkillers, it would still take time and lots of physical and mental therapy to be how you were when you were just a teenager. Even though the surgery was a success, your quirk was reduced to the size of a fraction of a bean, meaning that there was still a chance that it could grow and weaken your body once again. Nevertheless, you took that chance and here you were, on your way to a normal life.

Although the recovery period was difficult and it is still difficult functioning everyday, Bakugou was there by your side for all of it. He made sure to visit and help your parents out as much as he could, balancing a demanding job on top of this. He would often get scolded by his agency but he didn’t give a damn. You were his top priority and you will always be his top priority.

You crossed your arm over your shoulder, putting your hand over Bakugou’s. He felt comforted by how warm your touch had become. “I’ve missed you, Katsuki.”

“The hell do you mean, I’ve been here the whole time?” Bakugou asked, pushing you towards the brick path he knew you loved so much.

You laughed, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that I haven’t been myself, my true self all these years because of all of this and now I finally feel like it again.”

Bakugou smiled softly. For years he saw the effects of your quirk on your physical and mental well-being. As much as you tried to be optimistic for him, your parents, and friends, Bakugou knew that deep down you were terrified and tired of being stuck in that damn room.

You pointed to one of the many wooden benches surrounding the edges of the path, one sitting right under a cherry blossom tree. “Let’s sit over there.”

Bakugou maneuvered you beside the bench, sitting down so he was right next to you. You handed him a popsicle, one that he took happily as the sun’s intensity only increased. Although Bakugou had gotten used to it, you were shocked at how many people were staring at the two of you. You smiled. “I knew you were popular but I didn’t know you were this popular.”

Bakugou smirked, crumpling the wrapper and throwing it into the plastic bag. “You’re looking at a top hero. Of course they’re all staring.”

You laughed. “They’re probably wondering who I am next to you.”

“They can wonder all they want. I don’t give a fuck what they think but if anyone even thinks about saying any nasty comments about you, I’ll fucking destroy them.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and leaning into him. “Always so violent no matter what, huh?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Eventually the people stopped staring right in front of you, slowly walking past you and making you feel comfortable with the lack of prying eyes. You took notice to Bakugou’s bangs sticking to his forehead, pulling out one of your hair clips. Clipping his hairs back onto his head, Bakugou flinched at your sudden action. “The hell are you doing?”

“You looked hot so I’m just helping you out.” You giggled at how cute he looked, forehead exposed to the world and his same old grumpy face.

“I better not look stupid with this shit in my hair,” he grumbled.

“You look a-dor-able,” you said, enunciating slowly. You pointed down the path. “Let’s go! That’s enough lounging around!”

“You’re the one who wanted to sit here.”

“I know but I want to go down this whole path before the sunsets and we have to head back to the hospital.”

“Alright, gimme a second,” Bakugou said, standing up and pushing you once more.

As you walked with him, Bakugou yelled as he realized the amount of people snickering as they walked past you guys, taking notice to his new hairdo. You laughed along with them and despite his complaining and whining, Bakugou didn’t dare to touch his hair.

Unfortunately, your wish to reach the end of the path was cut short as a woman screaming startled everyone in the area as well as you and Bakugou. Bakugou whipped his head around to the source of the sound, you leaning on the side of the wheelchair to catch a glimpse of the commotion. Bakugou only needed a few seconds to spot a man in a hoodie running in the opposite direction of a flustered woman pointing at him. He had a purse in his hand.

“This asshole,” Bakugou muttered. He quickly pushed you to the side of the path so that you weren’t in the middle of the walkway. “Wait right here.”

“Oka--”

Bakugou ran in the opposite direction before you could say anything else, pushing his hands behind him and using his quirk to increase his momentum. He looked behind him momentarily, making sure no one was behind him to be harmed by his quirk. Once he got closer to the culprit, he yelled, “Hey! Asshole!”

The man turned around, gasping as Bakugou kicked him to the ground, his foot on his torso as the man groaned in pain from the impact of his kick. Bakugou leaned down, snatching the purse from his hand. Fortunately, due to being so close to a hospital, a few security guards rushed towards Bakugou, taking care of the man and thanking Bakugou for his help. Even bystanders walking down the brick path began cheering and clapping, getting a glimpse of the infamous Ground Zero at work.

Bakugou made his way down the path, handing the woman her purse silently before walking towards you. “Thank you, hero!” She called out.

Bakugou waved her off as he caught sight of you, a wide smile on your face as you were joining in on the clapping. Bakugou scoffed at you, moving your wheelchair from the curb. “You don’t have to clap.”

“Oh, come on! It’s my first time seeing you in action, it was exciting!” You exclaimed.

Bakugou chuckled, continuing to wheel you down the path like he had intended before you were rudely interrupted. He patted down his pants, panicking slightly when he felt his pockets empty. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for.

You turned back, eyeing him. “Did you lose something?”

“No,” Bakugou said a little too quickly, making you even more suspicious.

“O-kay,” you said cautiously, deciding to drop the matter… for now. You looked down the path as the brick and cobble road slowly started to fade. “Where are we going?”

“We’re almost there. You love this road, don’t ya? Thought you’d enjoy this, too,” Bakugou said, nodding to the sight ahead of you. You gasped inwardly as you stared ahead. As the brick path ended, the path was located on a slope, looking down on the metropolitan area. The sun was setting, painting the sky with purple and orange hues. The U.A. building stood tall in the center of all of the commotion of the city, giving you an even more perfect view of the city than the rooftop of the hospital. Plus, there were barely any people huddled around this area as they were too engrossed with the cherry blossom trees to enjoy the view.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe.

Bakugou smirked, pleased with himself. He sat down on the curb, at the top of the hill and enjoying the sight. You smiled, getting up slowly, wanting to join him. He stopped you, getting to his feet and gently pushing you back onto the chair. “What're you doing?!”

“I want to sit with you,” you said simply.

“But you can’t walk now.”

“I can walk a little,” you said, raising your two fingers. “You’re worrying too much. I can move this much just to sit next to you, you know.”

Bakugou sighed, knowing that there was no point in arguing with you. He grabbed your hand, helping you sit beside him and he pushed the wheelchair behind the two of you. You smiled up at him, scooting closer to him and latching onto his arm. “It’s nice to spend time like this with you.”

Bakugou hummed, his hand in his pocket as he looked over to you. “It makes me excited to think about all the memories we’ll make when I’m all better,” you said excitedly.

“Me too,” Bakugou said, sweat forming on his forehead once more. His palms were beginning to sweat as well, this time not from the heat.

You took notice to his nervousness, furrowing your brows. “What’s wrong, Katsu?”

Bakugou gripped the object in his pocket with such force that he was shocked it hadn’t broken. He sighed. “Being here with you makes me think about the future.”

You smiled, pinching his cheek teasingly. “What, you’re nervous to spend your future with me?”

He turned to face you, his eyes piercing right through you. He took the velvet box out from his pocket, flicking it open to reveal a metal band with a giant diamond sitting on top of it, one that would put the sun to shame with it shining brightly before you. “No. It makes me fucking excited to want to spend my whole life with you.”

Your eyes widened as you took notice to the engagement ring in his calloused hands. You could only shake your head, not able to believe what you were seeing or form any coherent words. Tears started forming as you stared at him. You were speechless, overwhelmed with love and feelings of security. As time passed and your condition worsened, it was harder and harder for you to even dream about things like marriage. But with Bakugou by your side giving you hope and pushing you to want to get better, it made you believe; can you really live a normal life again?

“Shit, did I fuck it up?” Bakugou asked angrily, annoyed with himself. “I’m supposed to get down on one knee and shit, aren’t I?”

Your (E/C) eyes watched on as Bakugou got up and went down on his left knee, holding the box up to you with an intense look on his face. You covered your mouth in disbelief, the tears now streaming down your face.

“Y/N, will you marry--”

“Yes!” You screamed, your voice echoing through the air. You attacked him into an aggressive hug, causing Bakugou to lose balance and fall backward onto the grassy area. Luckily he managed to catch your body and not lose the expensive ring at the same time. You buried your head into his neck, sobbing as your tears splattered his skin. “A million times yes!”

Bakugou laughed, a weight lifting of his shoulders. “You idiot, I could’ve dropped this shit, ya know?” His expression didn’t match his tone as he grinned widely.

You got up, still on top of him and wiping your face despite your sobbing never ceasing. Bakugou sighed, sitting up and pulling you into his embrace. “You’re not supposed to cry.”

You sniffled, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m just so happy, Katsuki.”

Bakugou shook his head, taking your left hand from your face and sliding the ring onto your finger. He caressed your hair, laughing at your tear-streaked face. You wiped your face once more, gasping for air in between your sobs. “It’s just… for the longest time I didn’t know if I’d ever survive to see the next day. And… And now you’re giving me hope to spend our lives together.”

Bakugou smiled, wiping your face as well, cupping your face in his hands. “Well now it gives you all the more reason to wanna get better.”

You laughed breathlessly, finally ceasing the tears from falling. You looked down at your hand, smiling at the ring. “You don’t understand, Katsuki, you’ve helped me survive more than you’ll ever know.”

You leaned in, planting a soft and warm kiss on his cheek. “You’re the reason why I still exist, Katsu. You give me a reason to want to wake up the next day.”

❝How could I do that to you

Our love that runs deep as the ocean,

Waiting till it runs dry…

The wind was strong that morning. But it wasn’t a slight breeze like usual as it brought harsh flurries of snow and frost along with it. Fortunately for Bakugou, who’s quirk was well suited for these harsh conditions, was fine as he made his way to his agency.

Right when he opened the doors, he was attacked into a hug. Kaminari smiled at him as he attempted to leech off of his warmth. “Kacchan!”

Bakugou grimaced, lifting him up by his shirt and dropping him on the floor. “Don’t ever fucking touch me or say that name ever again, dunce face.”

“Oh, come on! It’s not fair that you get all that warmth ‘cause of your quirk!” Kaminari complained, leaning on the front desk as he shivered in his costume.

Kirishima greeted the two, also clad in his hero costume. “Took you long enough.”

“What the hell are you two doing here anyways?” Bakugou asked, nodding at his receptionists as they greeted him. He made his way to his office and Kaminari and Kirishima followed him.

“We were in town after taking down some giant goat villain,” Kirishima said.

Bakugou closed the door behind them. “Goat villain?”

“Yeah, it was pretty weird. But we knew your place was nearby and we wanted to pay you a visit!” Kaminari exclaimed. “We also wanted to see how Y/N’s doing.”

Kirishima perked up. “Yeah, how is she, man? I heard she’s still in recovery from that surgery from like a year ago.”

Bakugou nodded, taking his gauntlets off and tossing them to the side. “She’s getting better with time. She was getting physical therapy so her body gets used to fixing the damage from her quirk but she got sick so she’s at the hospital.”

Kaminari sighed. “That poor girl can never catch a break. And here I was thinking you two could’ve at least gotten married.”

Bakugou slipped his gloves off and threw them onto his desk. “We already did.”

Kaminari and Kirishima both jumped up, eyes wide. “What?!”

Bakugou showed them the wedding band on his finger. “We didn’t want a ceremony and she didn’t feel like waiting so we just did the paperwork s’all.”

“Congratulations, man!” Kirishima said excitedly.

Kaminari pouted, slumping down on one of the chairs in front of Bakugou’s desk. “No fair, I bet Y/N would’ve looked real pretty in a wedding dress.”

Bakugou glared at him, taking off the rest of his gear including his eye mask and leaving his jacket-like top and pants on. “You better get those perverted thoughts out of your fucking head.”

Kaminari raised his hands up defensively. “I wasn’t thinking anything perverted! I just thought she’d look pretty!”

“Well you’re a fucking pervert either way so I don’t trust any bullshit that comes out of your mouth.”

Kirishima sighed, shaking his head as his two friends continued to argue. Bakugou's phone buzzed on the desk and Kirishima gestured to it. “You gonna get that?”

Bakugou grabbed it, looking at the caller ID. It was your dad, in fact he had numerous missed calls from him. He answered the call, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Katsuki! Thank goodness you answered, I’ve been trying to reach you for some time now!” His voice sounded frantic on the other end.

“Sorry, I leave my phone in my office when I’m wor--”

“Never mind that; it’s about Y/N.”

Bakugou felt his heart nearly stop beating as he heard your father’s next words, dropping his phone to the floor. He bolted out the room in a panic, ignoring Kaminari and Kirishima’s worried shouts from behind him as he made his way to Meijo Hospital.

***

The receptionist gave Bakugou a worried look as she saw him dashing for the elevator. Normally she would’ve scolded him for running in the lobby but she had heard the grave news as well, turning a blind eye to the matter. Bakugou aggressively jammed the button on the elevator as the doors closed, the ding sound intensifying as he reached the fourth floor. He used his quirk to push him forward as he finally got to your wing, your parents sitting down nervously in the waiting room.

Bakugou approached them, breathing heavily as his heart pounded against his chest. “Where is she?”

Your mother was crying as your father comforted her. He looked up at Bakugou with worry. “The doctor said they don’t know what happened, they said that she was fine one minute and then… they had to go into immediate surgery. Her organs are failing her.”

Bakugou’s legs gave out underneath him, luckily managing to sit on the chair beneath him and next to your father. The surgery from last year was a success and you were slowly yet surely on your way to recovery. “She was fine… what the fuck went wrong?”

Your mother got up, wiping her eyes as she continued crying. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Your father nodded sadly, watching as she walked down the hall. He turned to Bakugou, sighing. “I’m sure Y/N spared you the complexity of her condition as the medical reason for it is pretty difficult to understand. But similar to your quirk secreting nitroglycerin in your sweat, Y/N’s quirk secretes hydrogen cyanide.”

Bakugou listened intently. “What does that do?”

“Hydrogen cyanide is extremely toxic for the body but it is also flammable, which is what allowed Y/N to create her flames. However, unlike your quirk that secretes nitroglycerin primarily to your sweat, Y/N’s quirk secretes it directly from her endocrine system. I’m not sure if you know but the endocrine system regulates the body by secreting chemical substances into the bloodstream.”

“And that hydrogen cyanide shit’s been in her bloodstream this whole time?” Bakugou asked, not being able to believe what he was hearing.

Your father nodded, the frown still wrinkled on his face. “With the hydrogen cyanide being secreted in her bloodstream, it is affecting her organs, especially since the endocrine system regulates metabolic functions. When she was a child, the secretion was not too much for her to be hospitalized but slowly the dosage started increasing as she got older. She’s had so many of these surgeries but with each surgery, the risk of her being fatally injured in the process kept increasing, too.”

Your father gripped his knees in his hands in anger, frustrated to no end. “No matter what we do… no matter what we try to do to help her live her life, that damn quirk keeps manifesting. All these surgeries are just delaying the process. Her quirk is slowly burning her up.”

Bakugou looked down the hall, staring at your room. He could faintly hear the doctors and nurses’ voices through the door, hearing how frantic and rushed they sounded. All your life you’ve been fighting your own body and Bakugou refused to believe that it was going to end like this.

Your father clapped a hand onto Bakugou’s shoulder, giving him a weary smile. “Don’t worry, son, we’ve got to be hopeful for her. She’ll get through this, she always has.”

“There’s no way I’m ever giving up on her. I married her because I want to spend the rest of my life with her… only her. I’m not letting her leave me like this,” Bakugou said adamantly.

***

Time was going painstakingly slow. Bakugou had already drank three cups of shitty hospital coffee, your mother had gone through two boxes of tissues as her tears kept coming, and your father had bitten his fingernails into short nubs. Remembering how he left Kaminari and Kirishima, Bakugou asked your dad for his phone, dialing Kirishima’s number in.

“Bakugou! We’ve been worried sick, man! What the hell happened?” Kirishima asked in a concerned tone.

“Y/N’s in surgery. I’m with her parents at the hospital. I dunno when it’ll be over,” Bakugou said, leaning against the wall.

“Do you want us to come, too?” Kirishima asked after pausing for a moment.

“No, we’re fine here.” The door to your room finally opened and Bakugou perked up immediately. “The doctors are out, I gotta go.”

Bakugou hung up, handing the phone back to your dad as the three of them got up and started crowding the doctors and nurses coming out of the room.

“How is she, doctor?” Your father asked, hopeful for some good news.

The doctors looked uncomfortable, one finally speaking up after what felt like an eternity of silence. “She’s strong. Probably one of the strongest patients I’ve ever had… but it’s not going to work out.”

Bakugou felt his heart drop to his feet. “The hell do you mean?”

The doctor frowned, nervous with Bakugou’s tone. “She has ten minutes left. That quirk of hers was too strong to get rid of even with the surgeries she’s had. We managed to get these last moments for her. We’re so sorry.”

The doctors and nurses bowed to them to show their condolences. Your mother let out a shrieking sob, running into your room immediately. Your father followed suit, rushing to be by your side. But Bakugou couldn’t help but be frozen on the spot. No matter how much he tried to move his feet, he couldn’t do anything. He refused to believe that this was reality, wishing for this to be his worst nightmare.

Finally he moved, his legs feeling like jelly as he collapsed to the ground, his back hitting the wall. He buried his face in his hands, pulling at his hairs in frustration. You were fine, all this time you were on your way to a full recovery. You were smiling brightly just this morning and now… you were on your deathbed?

Your father stepped out, his tear-stricken face evident as he sniffled. “She wants to see you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou snapped his head towards him, nodding as he rose to his feet. He had to drag his feet into your room, terrified of what he was going to see. He sucked in his breath as he made eye contact with you.

You were hooked to so many machines Bakugou couldn’t keep count. You looked inhumanely pale, your veins peeking through your skin. Your hair stuck to your face and you looked exhausted. Nevertheless, you had the most beautiful smile on your face, one that could make Bakugou fall in love with you all over again. “Katsu… ki.”

Bakugou crouched down beside your bed, holding onto your hand. Your other hand was held by both your parents. Bakugou hadn’t taken notice to the tears falling from his eyes until you brought a shaky hand up to wipe them away. “Katsuki, don’t… cry.”

Bakugou felt himself breathing heavily as the tears continued to fall as he held your hand tightly in his. “You idiot, don’t tell me what to do. Not when you’re here like this.”

You let out a breathy and weak laugh, maintaining your smile. “You really are amazing, Katsuki.”

The tight knot-like feeling in Bakugou’s chest refused to leave as the tears drowned his vision. But he wiped them away vigorously, refusing to lose sight of you. Your eyes wandered down, looking at Bakugou’s clothes. “I finally got to see you in your hero costume…”

“Stop talking, you’re making it worse,” Bakugou mumbled incoherently, his lips quivering as he tried to maintain his composure. Your parents held onto you as tightly as Bakugou did, all three refusing to believe the reality and gravity of the situation unfolding before them.

You smiled once again, using all of the strength you had left to maintain that withering smile. You brought a shaky hand up to Bakugou’s cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone.

Bakugou’s vision became blurry, tears welling in his eyes as he gritted his teeth in pure anger. “You’re so fucking incredible, you know that? And so badass and strong.”

Your chest was rising and falling unevenly as it became harder and harder for you to breathe. Glancing over to your parents, your eyes glazed with your own tears. “I’m sorry Mom and Dad.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re so proud of you, sweetie,” your mother croaked, your father nodding along.

You smiled once more, a tear gliding down your face. “I love you both. Please look after… Katsuki. And each other.”

The monitor began beeping slowly and Bakugou held your hand in his once again, clenching it as tightly as he could. You gave his hand the slightest squeeze, turning your head to look at him. “Tell the others… that I’m sorry… didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Bakugou nodded vigorously, bringing your enclosed hands to his lips as he planted a soft kiss against your cold skin. “Don’t go, Y/N. Please.”

You laughed again, smiling sympathetically at him. “I wish… we could be… together forever…”

You smiled, your eyes closing slowly. “At least now… I can finally… leave this damn room…”

The heart monitor continued to beep slower and slower. Time stood still as Bakugou heard your last words ring in his ears. “I love you, Bakugou Katsuki. I love you… more than life…”

Bakugou and your parents stared on as your chest fell for the final time, the flatlining of the monitor echoing through Bakugou’s head. Your fingers went limp in Bakugou’s hand and Bakugou felt himself shake with anger.

“This is some fucking joke… there’s no way this is real…” Bakugou whispered.

The doctors came back into the room, and Bakugou didn’t even notice their presence or your mother passing out onto the floor. As they went over to her side to assist her, your father approached Bakugou. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, come on, let’s go.”

“No!” Bakugou pushed his hand away, his eyes blazed as he continued to hold your hand in his. “I’m not leaving this room!”

He looked over to the nurses by the doorway. “You’ve got to do something… anything! We can still save her!”

“Katsuki… please,” your father whispered desperately, his body shaking as his own tears never stopped.

“Ground Zero, sir, there’s nothing else we can do--”

“Bullshit,” Bakugou growled, interrupting the doctor. “She’s not dead! She was fine a few days ago! And you want me to believe that she’s fucking gone?!”

“Katsuki, you need to open your eyes, son,” your father was pleading beside him on the floor by your bed. “This is just as hard for you as it is for us.”

Bakugou got to his feet, his fists shaking at his sides as sparks ignited in his palms by his rage. He couldn’t look at you, refusing to see your limp body lying on the bed. He refused to believe anything. “Believe whatever the fuck you want.”

Bakugou ignored the shouts behind him as he stormed out of the room, running as fast as he could. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was doing, going wherever his feet were taking him. She’s not dead, she’s not dead, SHE’S NOT DEAD was all that was repeating in Bakugou’s mind.

That dreary day in room 405 was one that Bakugou would never forget but was also one he would do whatever he could do to forget. He turned his back on everything that day, and he never came back.

~~~

Two years had passed since then. Two painstakingly long years. After that night, Bakugou left the country, travelling to different places to somehow take the pain away, but it was no use. Your face continued to pop up in his mind like a constant reminder that you were gone.

The first month, Bakugou went to South Korea and China. He tried to indulge himself in anything that would distract him. And as hard as he tried, every night he’d wake up in the middle of the night with the image of your dead body in room 405 haunting him.

The next few months, he covered all of Asia, moving to the Middle East, Europe, Africa and so on. He didn’t answer any calls from his parents, your parents, his agency, or his friends. He submitted a leave of absence to his agency, one that he knew would be approved because it was his agency.

Sooner rather than later, a year had gone by and Bakugou was still on his pilgrimage to find something to fill the hole that you had left in him but to no avail. After two months, Bakugou finally returned to Japan, coming home to a frenzy of media as he had decided to go back to work. His colleagues and friends wanted to question him, question what he had been doing but didn’t have the heart to do so. They knew how difficult your death was on him.

When Bakugou went to his family home, he was greeted with swear words and constant yelling from his mother. But he ignored it, actually apologizing to his parents. And like that, Bakugou returned to his life as a pro hero.

However, things took a turn as he finally decided to quit seeking refuge with his parents and return to the home he had bought to live with you once you were fully recovered. The minute he opened the door, he collapsed to the floor, tears welling in his eyes for the first time in a long time as he saw pictures of you everywhere. The pain came back and it hit him like a punch to the face.

Finally here he was today, as Bakugou finally came to a stop at the brick road. The sun was setting, just like it was when he proposed to you on this same hill that day. Bakugou felt a chill down his spine as his eyes fixated onto your gravesite. The grassy area beside the path had been turned to a gravesite per your family’s request. It was your favorite part of the city and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved the area.

Bakugou stopped moving, his feet frozen in place and his hands clenching around the bouquet as he stared intently at your tombstone. He took a deep breath in and out, bracing himself as he took a few slow steps forward. Once Bakugou mustered enough strength to finally step before your grave, he fell to his knees, gently placing the bouquet in front of the urn of ashes. He took the incense sticks and matches on the side of your grave and lit a stick, placing it beside the flowers.

“I’m finally here, Y/N,” Bakugou said breathlessly, smiling softly. “I’m a really shitty husband for showing up two years late, but I’m here.”

He looked at your name engraved into the stone, that alone making his heart beat faster. Bakugou got up from his position and sat down cross legged in front of your grave, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m the biggest asshole there is. My wife died and I didn’t even go to her funeral ‘cause I didn’t wanna believe that it was true that you were gone.”

Bakugou felt his eyes begin to water and he attempted to suppress them, not wanting to cry in front of you. “Death is a fucked up thing, ya know. I saw your body in that damn room, I saw it with my own eyes. But I still didn’t want to believe it because you were still in that room. But when I left, I thought I would come to my senses but I didn’t. I didn’t realize you were really gone until I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren’t next to me to tell me it’s okay. You weren’t there motivating me even when I was being a dumbass or being hard on myself. You weren’t there to say that you love me.”

Despite how hard he tried, a single tear fell from Bakugou’s eye, one that he wiped away immediately. He didn’t want this “reunion” to be a sad one. “Months after I left I realized that you were really gone. Because when you died, it didn’t hit me all at once. It hit me slowly day by day as I began to see you weren’t there. And it fucking hurts, Y/N. It fucking hurts to not see you here.”

Bakugou reached into his pocket, pulling out your ring and put it inside the bouquet. “Your dad mailed that to the house when I came back and I thought I was gonna pass out on the spot. Your parents almost had a heart attack once they saw me after all this time without telling them anything. Hell, my folks were pissed, too, ‘specially my mom and she almost beat my ass.”

Bakugou let out a humorless laugh and then another sigh. “Kirishima and my parents said ‘hi’ by the way and how much they missed you. Kaminari, Sero, and the girls also miss you, too. We all fucking miss you, Y/N. And I’d do anything to have you next to me.”

“But that’s not the point,” Bakugou said adamantly. “I’m not gonna sit here and mope about how much I wish you were here ‘cause that’s expected. I know you wouldn’t want me to be sad ‘cause you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever known who cares way too much about others than she does about herself. And I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got people here to do that, so you just relax up there. You’re finally free, Y/N. You’re free from that sad ass room and I hope you’re finally happy now.”

Bakugou reached into his pocket one last time, pulling out the unlit and destroyed candles that you had attempted to light a few years ago using your quirk. He placed them beside the bouquet. “Whenever I see these shits I get pissed ‘cause it reminds me about your quirk, about how something you couldn’t control and something that was supposed to help you was what killed you. But now I look at it and it reminds me about all the time we spent together, about all the times we spent in that room.”

Bakugou looked up at your gravesite for one final time, memorizing it as best as he could. “I know you didn’t want me to be a fucked up mess when you were gone, but I couldn’t help it. The heartbreak I felt when you left me is a feeling I could never describe ‘cause it fucking sucks. But I’d go through it all over again if it meant just having another minute with you.”

Bakugou raised a hand to the stone, his fingers tracing the engraving of your name. “I’ve never loved and will never love anyone as much as I love you, (L/N) (F/N). And I can’t wait for the day when I can see you again…”

…will be the day we bid our last goodbye.❞

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