#its so hot that hes blasted out of his damn mind in this scene n still managed to kill two people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tteokdoroki · 3 years

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had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s): hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars, inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing, just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

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1-800-iluvhockey · 2 years

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somebody that he used to know - m.estapa

summary - mark sees a familiar face at a club in aa during an off weekend with the boys, and he chases after her.

type - blurb based on somebody that I used to know by gotye (italics & bolded are lyrics)

warnings - familiar faces romance trope, kinda douchey mark, broken promises, underage drinking & club life in AA

the song blasting on the stereo made y/n’s ears burst as she walked in the dance club with her two best friends. It was loud, hot, and too sweaty for her taste, but she was along for the ride tonight as she was an outsider to the umich scene. she went to their rival school in east lansing; michigan state. after a falling out with a fling in her senior year of high school, she swore that she would never go to umich, so when she got a partial scholarship to run track at mich state, she took it and ran. coming here tonight was a huge step for her, as she didn't want to run into him.

✿❀ ❀✿

mark was running late to the club because his roommate and dumb best friend, ethan, told him to be at the club at 11… and not at 10 like the rest of the guys. so he walked in with his id, almost an hour late to the party with the boys…. he scanned the room for them, and saw the gorgeous girl in the dark green dress in the corner; sipping the drink that he used to buy from her in high school. she was there, dressed like a daydream.. and it is like the first time he saw her. frozen in place, mark was then snapped into reality when luke came up and wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“damn estapa, you get here for not even five minutes and you're already looking at a girl?” luke jokes as he leads them to the rest of the group.

“hey! it’s not like that-- she just looked like somebody that I used to know.” mark hits luke’s chest as the two laugh it off and meet the rest of the group. she cut her hair to her shoulders, she dyed it a light blonde, and she looked toned; she looked so good... mark thought to himself after seeing her for the first time in almost a year in a half

“look who finally decided to join the partyyyy!!” mackie yelled semi drunkenly as he went to dap up mark.

“what took you so long, dude?” duke jokes as eddy and him chuckle.

“SOMEONE-- told me the wrong time!” mark snaps back sarcastically as eddy breaks into giggles.

“I am going to get a drink, since I am SO late to the party!” mark then yelled to the group as he made his way to the bar.

✿❀ ❀✿

she didn't see him walk in, or even see him at the bar until someone pointed him out. “hey isnt that the umich hockey team?” a random bunny asked her best friend haley as she took a sip of her drink, eyeing down the one at the bar instead of the group near it.

“yeah-- its their off weekend, bunny.” haley said semi annoyed as the bunny went away to the dancefloor-- running into a player.

listening to the conversation next to her, she looked at the guy at the bar. he looked familiar to her, but knew it couldn't be him. y/n’s mouth was dry as she saw the ring on the guy’s middle finger. she hadn’t even been in aa for a full day and she saw him---

It had to be a coincidence, please be a coincidence. she thought to herself as the guy looked around, waiting for the drink.

but when he turned around, she knew it was him and her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. the one guy that she dreaded to see, was staring right at her. he gave her a softer smile, and she started to feel the spark again.

✿❀ ❀✿

it was loud and the lights were flashing, but he could hear her voice from across the room after he saw her. he did give her a soft smile and walked back to his group, but then he looked to her across the room and heard her voice again.

“I-- HALEY! I can’t find chris but I’m going back--” he heard her say and his heart dropped at the words “chris” and “going back.”

mark watched the interaction for a few more minutes until he saw her make her way to the door. ethan was watching his best friend chug his drink after seeing that girl leave, and he called after him.

“STOP SIGN!” eddy yelled as mark ran off.

“I’LL BE BACK, E!” mark yelled back across the dancefloor as he runs after y/n, wanting to talk to her.

✿❀ ❀✿

she was halfway down the dark blvd as she heard him say “nova!” stopping in her tracks, she turned around slowly to see the one and only mark estapa zooming down the blvd to catch up to her. wearing his signature backward hat and michigan sweatshirt that she gave him years ago.

“ruff, what are you doing?” she asked the panting boy softly as he stopped to catch his breath.

“I had to see you-- I had to see you.” he told her as he brought her into a tight hug, catching her off guard.

“you -- mark get off!” she yelled frustratedly as they pulled apart.

“I know, I probably shouldn't have done that, I’m sorry.” mark responded to her apologetically.

“you can't just do this to me. you can't just walk back into my life after leaving it like you did. you-- you crushed me.” she told him whispering the last part as tears pooled into her eyes. she didn't want to get emotional around him, but it just came so quickly that she couldn't stop.

“I wanted to apologize for it again, and I heard the name chris at the bar and got extra worried. I know I don't deserve to be in your life again and I wanted to stay out of it-- but I can’t.” he rambled to her exasperated, as she just gave him the “are you kidding me look.”

“chris is short for christina, my best friend; and you said that you could let go.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to live that way. you mean too much for me to do that. have you not been getting my messages over the past year? after my new number that knies gave to you?” he said questioning her semi annoyed.

“you leave matthew out of it mark estapa. don’t drive away more people. I haven't answered you because you needed to move on from your mistake.” she said with the same energy that he gave to her.

"you were never a mistake-- and you didn't have to cut me off! m-make it out like it never even happened! and that we were nothing, y/n!” he said to her emotionally as he raised his voice. she had to leave, she couldn’t crush him like he did to her two years ago.

“I don't even NEED your love. I treated you like a stranger tonight because it was too rough; mark fucking woodruff estapa, I loved you so much and you crushed me into pieces. you left me for hockey, the one thing you said you'd never let get in the way between us.” she told him softly and he could see the tears on her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” he said softly as he tried to reach out and grab her, as she flinched, dropping her purse (which had his keychain he gave her two years ago on it.)

“well, you don't have to apologize to something you don’t have anymore. now you’re just somebody that I used to know. see you around, estapa.” she told him as she looked up to see his face, taking in all of the details of the man she once loved so deeply.

it hurt to walk away from something you once loved so deeply, which then hurt you in the end. but it was for the best, it was the best for him.

there she goes again, walking out of my life, like somebody that I used to know. he thought somberly, as he watched the girl in green disappear like a daydream. hearing her heels click down the blvd as she faded away.

——-

abbster’s taglist: @hockeyboysarehot @hockey-lover86 @hockey-lover-22 @erikports @pulpfixion @owenpowersglasses @pierrelucduboiis @juliasahoshughes @calermakar08 @studsccsnackavoybambi @boeswhore @jamiedryzdale @here-for-bords @bordsybebe @dracoswhore007 @bordyluv @njdhischier @lwstuff @oskarlidblom @dylandukerr @the-stars-shine-above-us @njdhischier @thomasbbordeleau

#1 800 iluvhockey blurbs #mark estapa #hockey blurbs #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa blurb #mark estapa imagine #umich imagine #umich blurbs

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authorkun · 3 years

Text

[𝙎𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙘] (001)

Jujutsu Kaisen x Male reader

Warning: Mentions of su!cide, gore, violence, and strong themes

"𝘿𝙖𝙢𝙣, 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨."

A smooth honey like voice dripped with interest of the vessel that stood before him. The male's eyes casted down before traveling back up the first year's torso. He licked his lip at the sight with a smirk.

"Oya? Oya? N/n-Chan where did you come from? You were supposed to be in Hyogo." A blindfolded sensei questioned. N/n, or better known as M/n sent a small wave at his underclassmen, who gaped at both his sensei and senpai with wide eyes. "Oh the other second-years would love this." M/n took out his phone and and started taking an array of photos of Megumi.

"Anyways, I was, heard there was a SGP (special grade problem) going on. Thought I'd check it out. You too?" He lazily draped himself against the older. "The elders complained about putting my abilities to good use." Gojo chuckled remembering the annoying email from the secretary. "Anyways, who's this?" "Yuji Itadori sir!" The pinkette quickly bowed. A hearty laugh bubbled in M/n's throat at the formal honorific. "Get up no need for that, cause a nice senpai like me cares for underclassman." The male proudly pointed to himself.

"M/n L/n. Say where is the cursed object anyways?" Itadori sweat dropped. "Well I ate it." "Damn the kid has balls." M/n bluntly stated making a certain raven haired sorcerer flustered at the vulgar statement. "So how's Sukuna, or whatever his face is?" The (e/c) orbs analyzed Itadori looking for any sign of the curse. "He's annoying, he keeps on talking." Tapping his head with his palm signaling the telepathic link. "10 seconds."

"Huh?" "Come on back after 10 seconds." Gojo reiterated. "I dunno about this." "Don't worry I'm the strongest." M/n playfully rolling his eyes. "And if it gets out of hand, I'm stronger." "Megumi, hold onto this will ya." Gojo tossed a paper bag towards him. "Can you also hold onto this? It's killing my back." The second-year threw a heavy duffel bag Fushiguro's way, almost knocking him out. "What's this?" Megumi's eyes lingered on the white bag. "Kikufuku Mochi." His eyebrow twitched at the information. 'He was buying souvenirs, while people were dying?!'

"Aww Megumi they're not souvenirs. They're for the bullet train back." Sukuna was suddenly in the air about to pounce on the 'unsuspecting' male. "Behind you!" Fushiguro yelled worriedly. Gojo dodged getting close to the curse's ear. "Two of my students are watching so, I hope you don't mind me showing off." He turned sending a blow towards Sukuna's back, making him stumble. 'He's unbelievably fast. Not only that-.'

"It doesn't matter what era it is, you guys are always a pain you stupid Jujutsu sorcerer! He dryly laughed. "But that doesn't matter to me." With a flick of his wrist chunks of concrete flew towards Gojo. Who when the dust cleared stood unscathed holding the rubble as nothing. "Should be about time." M/n clicked his tongue, while filing his nails next to Fushiguro. The markings on Itadori's body disappearing. "What a surprise! You can control it!" He yelled. "He's kind of annoying though." Itadori repeated.

"It's a miracle that's the only side effect." With that, the older tapped his head knocking the first-year out. "Aww booooo I was looking forward to annoying Sasuki more." The M/n whined like a toddler throwing away his file. "What did you do?" Fushiguro asked ignoring his senpai. "He's knocked out." Gojo stated holding onto the passed out male. "I though you were smarter then that Megumiii." The two once again ignored the manic (h/c-ette). "If he wakes up and isn't possessed...he might have potential as a vessel." He reasoned. "Quick question what do I do with him?" M/n sweat dropped. "Even if he has potential, under Jujutsu regulations he must be executed..." He drawled off. "But I don't want to let him die!" Fushiguro finished with a determined look.

"Is that a personal opinion?" M/n playfully teased. "Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it." "Hmm a precious student's request." Gojo scratched his chin in 'thought'. "Leave it to me, and your senpai!" He exclaimed. "So with that, let me reiterate...you're gonna be executed." The blindfolded teacher waved his hands around in finger guns. "This story doesn't make sense so far." Itadori grumbled. "Hey, Man, I tried. An execution is an execution, but I managed to suspend the sentencing."

"A suspended sentencing? So it's on hold now?" The pinkette questioned. "Yup. Let me explain from the top." Gojo went to grab something out of his pocket realizing it was gone. "Looking for this?" M/n's form came out of the shadows, holding up the shriveled appendage. "This look familiar?" Itadori raised a brow. "Another finger?" "Ding ding ding. You want a cookie or something?" M/n leaned on his sensei's shoulder aggravating him even more. "Its the same cursed object you so voluntarily consumed. There's 20 total, we're in possession of six." "Twenty? Oh, including both arms and legs." Nodding his head in understanding. "Wrong, Sukuna has four arms." M/n stated nonchalantly tossing the finger up for Gojo to blast towards the wall creating a small crater like hole. The finger looked unscathed. "As you can see, you can't destroy it. It's that powerful of a curse.

With every passing day it gets even stronger." The (h/c-ette) moved from his place wandering behind Itadori, the hot breath on his neck made himself shutter. "That's where you come in. You die, the curse in you dies as well." M/n moved back rocking back on his heels. "The Elders have a stick up their ass and wanted to kill you right away. My dear Gojo and I thought it be a waste for a pretty face like you to offed yet."

A small pink flush dusted against Itadori's cheeks. "There's no guarantee that another vessel able of controlling of Sukuna will ever come around again. So... our proposal was, "if we're gonna kill him, why not after he takes in the rest of Sukuna". Killing two birds with one stone really. Your two choices right now are either to die now or wait to find the rest of Sukuna and die then." An intimidating aura surrounding M/n.

The next day

"Who died?" M/n asked picking at his nails, feeling oddly uncomfortable around the place heavy with death and sadness. "My Grandpa,he was more of a dad I guess though." Itadori hung his head. "I see, sorry to bother you at a time like this." Gojo apologized sitting himself next to the male. "Are there a lot of casualties with curses like this?"

"This is a pretty uncommon circumstance...But if you're talking about potential damage, yes." In the corner of Gojo's eyes he could see M/n's hand start to tremor. "...Let's just say, you're lucky to die normally after an encounter with a curse. Finding a body torn in two is still a light death compared to the others..." M/n stare burned into the bench a few feet in front of them. Walking off as flashes of blood painting the walls continued replaying in his head. "What's wrong with him?" Itadori asked looking off towards where the male went off to. "Not many things are known about M/n. Supposedly during a special grade case, they had found a witness around the age of 7 standing in the middle of what was assumed his family. The report was hard to read not much about the kid except the crazed look in his eyes and the astronomical amounts of cursed energy spilling from his body.

The case was left unfinished because they couldn't understand what exactly happened. The one account from the boy saying that it was a monster who killed his family. Of course when they checked there wasn't a sign of a curse. The elders shut the case down and took in the kid in, fear of his powers haunting them. From what I know, he was taught by the principal himself how to control his cursed abilities. When I was in my last year, I heard about an incident including the boy with a special grade. It had changed him from an outgoing and friendly person to a husk of one. He distanced himself and gained the liking of inducing pain on himself. He's strange that's for sure." A vision of a preteen M/n slitting his arms for an 'experiment'.

He claimed the experiment was to figure out how many cuts he could endure before passing out. Itadori stared at the older with an opened mouth. An image of the bandaged male popped into his head. 'Bandages'. "When I saw him pass in the hallways smiling like no tomorrow, made me think if the incident had never happened to him..."

"...He would have a normal life" he finished the other's sentence. "But that kind of thinking is common when you first get into the game. You learn how to ignore those thoughts. Those thoughts alone could drive a man insane. If you start investigating the remains of Sukuna, you'd probably some gruesome scenes, every sorcerer has their case that changes them wether it be for the best or the worst. Pick your hell."

"If Sukuna is eliminated, will there be fewer people killed by curses?" Itadori's grandpa's words rung in his head. "Of course." Gojo nodded his head. "You got that other finger?" "Yeah." Gojo placed the object in his hand. Itadori took a second to study it. "Now that I look at it it is pretty disgusting." He said tossing the appendage into his mouth absent mindedly swallowing it with a gross gulp. 'That's one tenth of Sukuna, how will that sit?' Black marks appeared on his body before leaving as quickly as they came. "Blaughhh, that was so gross." The male wrapped a hand around his throat at the taste. 'He's able to control Sukuna without a problem, heh.' Gojo thought. "I take it you're prepared for what's to come?" "Not at all. I am wondering why I have to be executed though. But I know I can't leave this curse alone. It's final, I'm gonna eat the rest of Sukuna. That's all"

"Yahooo! I'm back!" An overly enthusiastic voice emerged. M/n ran over waving his hands around. A bag slung around his shoulders. Something seemed off. An evident bruise starting to form around his neck peeking out from the loosely wrapped bandages. A cut lip and a few more scrapes littering his face. "What happened?" M/n shrugged still smiling. "Just a fight, this delinquent looking guy said he had a bone to pick with me, he had his fun....and so did I~" He took out his phone, shoving it into both of their faces. Sure enough a buff looking male was in tears, tied up. "The old wasabi and mustard up the nose always works like a charm." M/n shoved the device back into his coat, before handing the paper bag over to Gojo who quirked his brow.

"I went on a little trip into town and got you this~" The male's hands roamed around the bag pulling out a box. "I saw this delectable Mochi stand and turns out their family were from Sendai. What's the chance they made kikufuku? I got them for free since the owner was an old friend. Told 'em it was a gift for someone special." He winked at the end. Sukuna lowly growled barely loud enough for Itadori to hear. 'What's your problem?' 'Shut it brat.' Sukuna coldly snapped.

"This is why you're my favorite second-year." Gojo chuckled as if he were a grade school girl. "Looks like it's shaping up to be a fun hell. Get your belongings together by the end of the day." He turned towards Itadori, Megumi now standing behind him. "We goin' somewhere?" "Tokyo." Fushiguro answered with a battered face. "Ah! My little Meg-Chan is back!" M/n attacked the poor male in a tackle like hug. Snuggling his face further into the first-year's chest. A red hue danced acrossed the ravenette's face, as Gojo secretly took pictures.

Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School The walk to the school was quiet, the only noise being the light chatter being shared between the two with occasional comments from M/n, who's interest was glued to a small book in his hands. The quietness of the curse had caught Itadori off guard, causing questions to form about his weird behavior. Sukuna seemed to keep his gaze fixed onto the object held by the other. 'The book he's holding..' Itadori's eyes flickered over to the small piece of literature questioning it's importance. "What are you reading?"

"Just an old book I'm rereading." The male had answered turning to the next page. "If you have already read it why are you reading it again?" His curiosity had gotten the better of him. "A good book never gets old no matter how many times you read it." What confused Itadori, is why Sukuna was so fixated on the older. A soft thud sounded out as M/n closed the book, placing it back into his pocket. "Anyways, you're about to have an interview with the principal." "The principal?!" He exclaimed confused.

"There's a high probability he could reject you so make sure you go all out." M/n said once again picking at his nails in amusement. "What then! Immediate execution?" He snapped making the former quirk a brow at his statement. A small mouth formed onto his cheek.

"So you're not the boss? Pathetic, a hierarchy that isn't based off of strength is worthless." Itadori slapped a hand over his cheek, keeping Sukuna from further speaking. "I'm sorry about him, he pops out." "You have quite the amusing body now." M/n cheekily said. Another small mouth popped out, this time located on his hand. "I owe you a favor you know."

"Not again!"

"Once I make this brat's body my own, you'll be the first one I kill. The male next to you will once again be my king when I take my crown back." M/n crossed his arms in confusion.

"It's an honor to be targeted by Sukuna himself, but what do you mean 'your king once again'?

"Have you ever wondered what caused the incident ten years ago? And why the Elders were so keen on raising him?" The mouth disappeared leaving both Gojo and M/n astounded at the new information.

'How does Sukuna know about that, and why did the elders drop the case as if it were nothing.' "You wouldn't do that would you senpai?" A hopeful smile painted on Itadori's face. "...." The words couldn't form as M/n stood wide-eyed at the curse's words.

'I wouldn't, would I?...'

#jujutsu kaisen #seme male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #itadori yuji x top male reader #jjk itadori #jjk fushiguro #jjk nobara #zenin #inumaki #sukuna ryomen x male reader #dazai osamu #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #top male reader #suicidal maniac #jjk

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monodipita · 3 years

Text

dangerous (Yandere!Killua x Reader)

Word count: 2,161

Warnings: Yandere content warning, slight abuse warning, blood warning

The night descended upon you, the air reeked of blood and decay. You weren't even close to the door yet you were afraid to go anywhere near it, but you knew who was inside. He was there, waiting for you, even though you were scared of what was going to be inside the room, you were wise not to ignore his demands for your attention. Killua could be quite the monster sometimes, but never did you think that he would go this far. You were nauseous just thinking about it, and the noxious fumes in the air added on to nausea, but you were still holding yourself together through the pain.

What was on the other side of this door? Who would you see lying on the ground, surrounded by their blood, captured by the embrace of death?

Your hand slowly moved to the door handle. It turned effortlessly and smoothly to your chagrin. Watching the door creep open, it unveiled a new world before you. You had little time to react as your face was blasted with the acrid smell of death, causing you to double over and nearly vomit on the spot. It took everything within you to fight your reflexes, nearly becoming lightheaded from your efforts, but you were able to recover.

"Do you think I'm afraid of hurting you [Y/N]? Do you think that because I am so nice to you that you can walk free, that you can talk to whoever you want, whenever you want when I'm not looking? You took me for granted. I don't appreciate that." Killua. His voice sent chills down your spine. “No,“ you answer him in a quiet voice, “Killua, I wasn’t trying to do anything with them. I only spoke to them for up to a few minutes at a time. I didn't have anything to do with these people!“ It was a sobering thought.

”I just told you why I killed them [Y/N]. I'm not fond of repeating myself.“ Killua stood from his chair. You could see him in the dim light that was provided by the room now that he was closer to you. You could see the veins bulging in his hands, his nails were sharp as you had seen them be before in previous encounters. Blood splatter covered his body from head-to-toe. You find yourself slowly backing away from him, but you knew your lover well, there wasn't any fighting him, there wasn't any escaping him. "Killua," you called his name quietly, your mind surging and trying its best to come up with an excuse that would get you out of this hot mess. You didn't want to die, but you knew he was going to kill you. You didn't want to die because of something you'd thought was only a minor inconvenience. "Please, I..."

"What are you going to say," he was in front of you, his beady blue eyes stared down at your face. ""Don't kill me?" Of course, I wouldn't kill you, [Y/N]. I love you far too much to kill you, don't be ridiculous." He pulled you into an embrace and squeezed you in his arms tightly, his hands stroking down your back and reaching back up to your shoulders. You were hesitant to hug him back but slowly brought yourself to wrap your arms around him. . . feeling the two of you lock together in the embrace, your eyes closing as you brought yourself to lean into him with your head pressing on his shoulder. "Of course, I love you," he whispered.

The air was still and quiet, neither of you spoke to each other and instead held this awkward silence. You knew better than to move away from Killua, you knew better than to fight him when he was so much stronger than you, so you accepted your fate, resting against him like this. It was actually kind of nice after a while, it made you feel like he still loved you.

That was until you could feel his sharp nails burrowing themselves into your back.

"Ah!" You cried out. Your body began to squirm underneath his embrace that only got tighter the more you struggled against him. "Stop STOP! It hurts, Killua, PLEASE!!" You shrieked.

"This hurts, hmm? Am I hurting you [Y/N]? Does it hurt as much as you hurt me?"

Your screaming turned into wailing and sobbing, your body that had been consistently put to the test since you met Gon and Killua at the hunter exam became partially numbed to the excruciating feeling of his nails piercing and digging into your skin. Thankfully he didn't seem to be pushing his fingers any deeper into your body. "N-no, Killua, it doesn't," you sobbed, "I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"You're sorry?" Killua's hands ceased their assault on your body. He pulled his fingers out of your skin. The numb feeling that took over that area of your body ceased to exist at the moment, and the pain began to flood you from head-to-toe. Your own hands gripped at the shirt Killua wore to somehow relieve the agonizing pain you felt through putting pressure into your fingers. Your body began to shake, but you kept yourself up as best as you could. "yes," you breathed, "I'm so sorry that I hurt you Killua, I won't ever do it again!"

Silence fell.

Killua pulled himself away, his hands holding yours tightly as he looked down at you. "Good," he smirked, "I'll trust you, but just to make sure I'll handle it on my own." He said calmly. He gripped your hand crushingly tight. It was better than the pain you felt in your back, that was for damn sure though. You were dragged effortlessly out of the building that the two of you were in.

On the way out, he ripped off the note on the outside that lured you inside. He balled it up and tossed it aside. Your teeth clenched and grit themselves together while the two of you walked back to your apartment, the pain you were feeling was unbearable, but you knew better than to talk to Killua right now. The sounds made on the trek back would be the sounds of you whimpering and your footsteps colliding with the cement of the sidewalk. The two of you didn't pass by very many people on the way, so there was no one to stop and ask you what was wrong - perhaps that was for the best. You held your silence as the two of you stepped inside the apartment building, your eyes warily looking over to the elevator as he dragged you over to it.

You were scared, scared that he was going to do something horrible inside the apartment once the two of you were in it. As you entered the elevator your body nearly collapsed against his, your body sinking to the floor before Killua's. His hands went to your shoulders as he stared down at you, a shadow cast over his face to prevent you from studying any bright details, as well as rendering his expression unreadable.

"I think I like you in this position." He smirked.

You shook your head, "no, KIllua... please, my back... we need to go to the hospital..." you were tired of behaving like it wasn't an issue. The pain was still there even after ten minutes of putting up with it. "No we don't!" he rolled his eyes as he pulled you up. "I'll take care of you, don't worry about it. Only I should be the one to touch you anyway."

The elevator conveniently came to a stop for him so that he could lug you out of it and drag you to your apartment door. You could feel your body be dragged against his, your legs touching the floor, your injured back coming dangerously close to touching the floor, but your body was too weak to fight against his, you could only cry out at the feeling. "KIllua, please, it hurts!" You whimper, "let me get up!"

"I'll pass~!" the white-haired boy spoke casually as he grabbed the key from your apartment from his pocket. You took this moment to try and lift yourself, but you were only met with the feeling of pain, as his hand tangled with your hair to force you back down onto the ground.

The door opened. Killua dropped your hold on his body and stepped inside.

This... this was the chance, the only chance you would have to run if you were going to run. You were injured and on the brink of passing out, but an attempt of running and hiding sounded better than submitting to whatever would happen inside that room. Your body slowly brought itself to stand with the help of the columns of the doorway. Right as you were able to fully stand, KIllua glanced back at you for a moment. "Go lay on the bed," he ordered you, "I'm gonna go get the first-aid. 'kay?"

You said nothing as he disappeared around the corner. Your body instinctively turned to jet away from the scene as fast as your injured body could take you, finding yourself facing out into the hallway. What am I running for? You had no answer for yourself but anything was better right now then being at the behest of Killua, even if you still loved him you knew that there wasn't any turning back from this point on. ...at least not for you.

Your body tip-toed itself away from the doorway to your apartment and out into the hallway. You began to make your break for it, but you were stopped mid-way.

"Did you seriously think that this was going to work on me of all people?" He asked you, his hand wrenching your shoulder tightly within his grip. "After being made aware of everything that I'm capable of, me, Killua Zoldyck?" There were no words to express the genuine amount of surprise the white-haired boy felt. He was wordless as he pulled you back inside the apartment, this time closing the door behind him and securing you inside with him. You were powerless to fight against him.

"Now, let's go take care of those wounds of yours, shall we?"

He brought you further inside the apartment to your bedroom, where you were originally supposed to be in the first place.

There were chains on the bed. You could see them very well—they stuck out like a sore thumb because they were black against the gray sheets of your bed. "Ki-killua, what is this??" You ask him worriedly, but he pays you no mind as he pushes you onto the bed.

You aren't given time to react. He's already putting the ensemble together on your body. First your ankles, then your arms, and finally your neck are all bound by the same black metal. You wince in confusion, your eyes going up to him. "W-what is the meaning of this?! What are you doing to me?!"

"Seeing as I can't let you wander out without talking to people like only you know how to, I figured I'd take the necessary steps to ensure that you can't run away ever again." He spoke in such a cheerful voice. You were unnerved by it. "You can't do this to me... it's not right," You tried to reason with him, "I don't want to be stuck like this forever!"

"Oh, but I can do this to you, and you can be stuck like this forever! I have the power to facilitate it." He grinned. "Don't worry [Y/N], I won't let it be too lonely in here. I'll make sure to stay with you as much as I can! Like, I'll feed you, I'll bathe you, all that stuff. Like a pet. Only if you're good, though." You looked on in horror while he continued speaking. He seemed to forget what he needed to do at the moment. "Right, I almost forgot! I need to patch up that wound of yours. Hold on, I'm coming back!" So cheerful, so disturbing, you hated every second of it. You watched as he disappeared.

You took this time to look down at the predicament you were placed in. You were surrounded by familiar things, but you were in something unfamiliar: these chains, that you were supposed to be in forever. It was a horrifying thought, being bound to this one spot forever with someone as chaotic as Killua being the one to look over you... he would've been more than willing to have you killed on the spot, you were almost certain of that.

When Killua came back, he was holding a small first-aid kit in his hand, but more importantly, he was holding a large container of rubbing alcohol in his other hand—you already knew where this was going. You swallowed thickly as he came closer.

#killua hxh #killua x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #yandere #hunter x hunter #gender neutral insert #reader insert

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

Text

#MountainLife

Summary: When a typical winter storm sends her car into a snowbank, Y/n finds herself face to face with her favorite actor. Will Jensen be able to dig her out or will the day have other plans for them?

Pairing: None, purely platonic

Word Count: 2.7K+

Warnings: Language, very minor car accident (no injuries)

Author's Note: Single-digit temperatures, lots of snow, and one wily Brit (@winchest09) gave me the idea for this mess. Also, Jensen in those damn sweats didn't help either. But in all honesty, I don't think I've been warm for three weeks. This helped make me smile through the shivering and I hope it does the same for you. xoxo Alex

Check out Alexandra's Library for more works by yours truly!

The chill that had settled in her room overnight roused the woman before her alarm had the chance. Y/n tucked herself further into the heavy blankets that she adorns her bed with every winter, but it was no use. The cold had successfully awoken her for the day, and not even the pocket of heat her body had created under the mountain of cotton could protect her now.

With a huff, she climbed from the fraction of warmth her bed provided and slipped on her heavy robe. Her feet shuffled as she made her way to the large bay window on the south side of her bedroom and tugged open the curtains. The expanse of her backyard and the woods that lay just beyond was blanketed in a thick layer of snow, large snowflakes continuing to fall as she observed the scene in front of her. Y/n smiled at the undisturbed white that shone brightly against the beginnings of the early morning sunshine, her tired eyes trailing to the back porch and the pile of snow that rested against the beams. From the sight, she could guess they had accumulated a foot so far, a little less than the evening news had predicted.

Since she was young, she had always had a loved winter and the unique beauty and serenity that heavy snow would bring. Some of her best memories were playing in the snow all day only to come home, chilled to the bone and pink in her cheeks, to a piping hot mug of cocoa. But as she grew older, that love had turned a tad sour when snow days turned into digging her car out and stressing the whole drive to work about the idiots on the road who act as if they have never seen snow before. She still basked in its wonder and beauty, but she hated having responsibilities that forced her to deal with its less than fun side.

Considering where she was located, the woman knew she would need to give herself extra time to get to work this morning, seeing as her drive and the main road would not be plowed by the city. Even though she had woken early, it still wasn’t enough time to pull out her snowblower and do the entirety of her drive. It was up to her SUV to get her into town in one piece.

With that thought in mind, she was quick to make it through her morning routine. She made sure to cut time wherever was possible. A shower that didn’t include washing her hair which allowed her to leave it down to frame her face, lighter than normal makeup, and one cup of caffeine instead of her normal two. Y/n decided against packing a lunch today and made sure to bundle up in heavy layers.

With enough time left to nearly double her commute, she headed out the door and into the SUV. The cabin was warm, the heat running full blast from when she started it ten minutes earlier and she sighed as she settled into her seat. The driveway met her with instant resistance to the spinning of her tires, but it was nothing the rubber couldn’t handle. The woman was cautious, taking the gradual incline of her drive at a slow pace to give her time to react to any sign that the tires were slipping.

Once she hit the main road, things were not much better. It seemed that most of the blanket that covered the mountainside had remained untouched, making her drive the first to lay down tracks. She could hear the snow brushing the underside of the vehicle, causing her to slow her pace even more to avoid any possible damage it may cause. At this point, the car was crawling down the hillside, barely rising above 25 miles per hour as she reached the valley.

Y/n made her usual left turn towards the city and where she worked, the back road winding up through the mountains before leveling off in town. It could be treacherous this time of year, but it wasn’t a path she hadn’t taken before. Having grown up in the area, Y/n had learned how to handle the slope and the snow from the moment she walked out of the DMV with her license at seventeen. In fact, the night before her driver’s test, they received over a foot of snow. If she could pass under those conditions, she was set. But not even the years of experience could have prepared her car for the hidden patch of ice that had settled beneath the snow.

The tires slipped against the smooth surface as she turned the corner, sending the rear of the SUV fishtailing to the right. Instinct had her correcting the path of the car before she could think about it, the turn of the steering wheel flipping the direction the vehicle was careening in.

“Fuck,” Yn hissed as she worked to fix things, making sure this time to not overcorrect her car. Her grip on the leather wheel was tight as the realization that she had to let whatever was going on happen, bracing herself as the car continued to slip into a snowbank on the side of the road. Luckily, at her low speed, the impact was minimal and she prayed the damage to her fender would reflect that. With a sigh, she pushed slowly on the gas, attempting to see if her car would get back onto the road, only to feel the familiar slip of the tires. The vehicle was only able to find enough traction to give her maybe an inch, but the incline was unforgiving.

“Well, shit,” she grumbled, pulling her phone from her purse before shutting off the car and hopping from the heated cabin. The snow crunched under her boots as she rounded the car to see if there was anything she might be able to do. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the tools in her trunk that would even come close to digging her out of the trouble she had gotten into. The frustrated woman kicked the rim of her tire, knowing full well it wasn’t her car’s fault she was in this mess, but it made her feel a tad better. She rounded back to jump back into the waning heat of the car to make the necessary calls to work and a tow truck. A voice rising behind her halted her hand on the handle.

“Hey! Are you okay?” The deep voice carried across the open street and to the troubled woman. Y/n spun her head to the sound, certain she recognized that distinct timber of the person calling out to her. Sure enough, as she blinked through the thick snowflakes falling through the air, she was greeted by the visage of the very last person she had ever expected to see. He wasn’t wearing much for a cold snowy day, just a pair of heavy sweats and a thick green henley topped off with snow boots, a beanie, and a pair of gloves. The tall man skidded to a halt a safe distance from her, a snow shovel hanging from one hand.

“Ma’am, are you hurt?” the return of his voice snapped her back to the reality that he was indeed standing in front of her. She was quick to straighten her features, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way her jaw had dropped.

“Uh, yeah… I mean no, I’m not hurt at all,” she fumbled over her words and silently cursed her lack of finesse. He visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping and a small smile gracing his lips.

“I didn’t think anyone would try and get into town today,” his brow rose as he attempted to hide the amusement on her face. Y/n was a good sport though, nodding her agreement to his assessment. “I heard the commotion from my porch and came running.”

“I can see that,” the woman took in the flush to his nose and cheeks and the way his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, the hot air from his mouth swirling into a white mist before disappearing above his head. With a giggle, she pointed to the shovel in his right hand. “Is that for protection?”

“No, I was clearing my porch thank you very much,” he tilted his chin at her. “You want some help getting out?” Y/n turned to look back at the mess behind her, a grimace returning to her face.

“You can try, but I’m pretty sure it’s hopeless.”

“Start her up, I’ll shovel,” and with that, he scooted past her and began to dig out the snow around her tires. Y/n suspected it was useless to argue and went back into her car. Most of the heat had faded by now from the inside, allowing the bitter bite of the mountain air to creep back in. She turned the engine over and waited for his signal. He appeared back at her door, slightly out of breath from his exertion and Y/n had to fight biting her lip at the sight.

“Try her out, let’s see if that helped,” he panted, his lips parted as his chest heaved. With a nod, she put the car in gear and pressed against the gas. The vehicle rocked underneath her, but the tires still struggled to gain any traction. He disappeared to the rear, attempting to push the car to give her the extra power needed. But it was no use. The snow was too deep and too heavy.

“It’s over,” Y/n sighed and put the car back into park before turning it off. The annoyed woman hopped back into the cold morning air. “Seriously, thank you for helping but I think my only option is calling for a tow.”

“You might be right.” Y/n watched the gears turning in his head through the faded green eyes she had dreamed about many times before. He pursed his lips, still trying to come up with a way to get her out and the woman wasn’t sure her nonchalant demeanor would last much longer in his presence. She bit down on the tip of her tongue and fished her phone from her pocket, looking up the number for the local tow service.

“Thank you though, for helping out a total stranger,” Y/n lifted the phone to her ear.

“No problem, honestly. I’m Jensen by the way,” he indicated, not offering his hand to her considering the state of the country, and to be honest most of the world, at the moment.

“Oh-” An automated machine picked up after the first ring, halting her reply. The message indicated the state of emergency the governor declared meant they weren’t taking calls until the weather let up. The shivering woman grimaced and hung up the phone. Jensen raised a brow at her, taking in the clear downstroke of her mood.

“The governor declared a state of emergency,” she answered his unasked question. “I guess I better call work and let them know I won’t be in, I hope it does leave them too shorthanded because with the state of the roads that wouldn’t be good. And I should probably call my insurance company, but we will see if they even answer considering,”

“Ma’am?” Jensen interrupted her ramblings.

“Y/n, please,” she corrected. “I was rambling wasn’t I?” The worried woman hadn’t realized the words were coming out of her mouth, the anxiety over her current situation overtaking her mind for that brief moment.

“A little,” he confirmed. “Listen, do you live close?”

“Not exactly. I’m about five miles down Sierra Trail.”

“Join me then?” Jensen suggested, indicating the drive that assuredly led to his house. Panic rose in her gut at the suggestion and her instant reaction was ‘that’s not happening’. The man standing across from her, no matter how many times she blinked, remained, and yet she still didn’t believe this wasn’t all a dream.

Of course, she had recognized Jensen as soon as his voice registered in her brain. He was only the one man she had spent more time watching on her television or scrolling past online. The man had saved her life and he had no idea. The last thing she could do was just waltz into his home when he didn’t have all the facts. He deserved to have all the facts.

“Oh no, I couldn’t,”

“I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything. My wife and kids are doing some finger painting in the kitchen as we speak and we haven’t left the house in weeks,” The man’s face softened as he looked at her, trying to convince the wary woman.

“It’s not that,” Y/n chuckled, earning a confused look from her favorite actor. The woman chewed on the inside of her lip, contemplating how to phrase the next thing she wanted to tell him.

“I-” A smile spread on her face as she got an idea. Y/n held up a finger to him and stepped to the rear of her car. She raised a gloved hand to brush away the accumulation of snow on the small side window to reveal the anti-possession decal that clung to the glass. She turned back to him with a sheepish grin, “I’m actually a huge fan. I just thought you deserved to know that before you invite me into your home.”

The numerous expressions that flickered past his features finally settled into a soft smile. “Well, thank you, that’s very kind. If you are a fan then you probably know that even if you planned to steal my underwear and sell it on the internet later, or even keep it, that I can’t let you stay out here on the side of the road and in the freezing cold for who only knows how long.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, you are welcome to stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, her heart glowing in her chest at his offer. The fangirl inside her was losing her mind and trying to piece together what specific alternate reality fanfic she had fallen into. “I promise not to steal your underwear then.”

Jensen let out a snort, his head rearing back in laughter. “Well, I’ll make sure to count them before you leave, just in case.”

“Deal,” Y/n grabbed her belongings from her car and secured the vehicle before following Jensen. They crossed the road and dredged up the gentle slope of the Ackles’ drive. Y/n was finally beginning to feel the bite of the winter against her exposed face as the house came into view behind the heavy trees. The design was typical of the area and not much different from her own, well besides the sheer size of it.

The stairs were sprinkled with salt and half the porch held evidence of his attempt to clear it, only for the still falling snow to already destroy his efforts. The sound of children’s chatter filtered from the house as Jensen pushed open the front door. He toed off his boots onto a matt behind the front door and Y/n moved to follow his lead.

“Here,” he held his hand out to take her bags as she copied his action. “I’ll find something for you to change into and we can put your wet clothes into the dryer.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” her instinct to refuse anything offered to her was too strong to stop.

“Y/n, just relax. You are not sitting in wet clothes all day and that’s not just because I want to protect my furniture,” Jensen joked, also taking her coat as she shrugged it off.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she grumbled, following behind him further into the house. The voices of his family grew louder as they went and the woman was sure even at his distance, the actor could hear her heart thumping inside her chest.

As he passed under an archway, the tiny shriek of ‘Daddy’ met their ears, halting her in her steps. Y/n let her eyes close and took a few gulping breaths in one last-ditch attempt at steadying herself before she would spend her day with the Ackles’.

Somebody should pinch her...

Forevers: @22sarah08 @440mxs-wife @akshi8278 @anathewierdo3467 @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @briagallen @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deandreamernp @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jbsgirl4ever11 @jensengirl83 @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @suckmyapplejacks @superfanficnatural @supraveng @talesmaniac89 @tatted-trina6 @thoughts-and-funnies @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09

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syinisuga · 3 years

Text

Begin Again [MinYoongi]

Pairing : Yoongi x Reader

Word count : 5.2K

Genre : Fluff and Angst

Description : Friends to lovers, Long Distance relationship, Lovers to (?)

Summary : when you thought the friendship you once had with him died away after one silly mistake, and you thought you would never have again what you lost;

But it blossoms back unexpectedly stronger and is slowly growing to be something more beautiful than you ever had

"I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn, and end;

But on a Wednesday in a cafe i watched it Begin Again"

--------------------✨📖✨---------------------

It was the start of a new year and you weren't particularly happy about being moved up a few classes into an entirely new class with relatively new students you haven't personally met yet. You were still grateful for your good results in the past year to have you land in such a good class. In all honesty though, you did miss your friends from your old class, all of them being scattered in the back classes however changed your mind about being thankful that you're at least in a better one. The first few days of getting used to the classes went by rather slowly as you were listening to the introductions of the other students and teachers half mindedly, till around your 4th day into the classes that is.

You were randomly seated in the Chemistry lab by the teacher as she familiarised herself with the rest of the class. Not paying much attention you were spacing out, resting your chin on your palm, tapping away at your cheek.

" Um, hey there"

The voice from the stool next to you spoke. You turned your head to the direction of the voice, being met with warm brown eyes looking right at you. He had soft black hair, eyes slightly puffy as if he hadn't slept well the night before, lips curled up in a slight smile as he looked at you.

"Oh, hello"

you answered, trying not to sound overly shocked at the first human interaction you've had in this new class.

"I'm yoongi, what's your name?"

"I'm y/n, nice to meet you Yoongi"

"So what are your interests? What do you like to do y/n? Any hobbies?"

It definitely took you by surprise when this boy you've never really met before was suddenly making an interest to get to know you more. Something about him felt raw and not shy but in a good way.

"Well i really love listening to music and i do indulge in art as well. Spend most of my time listening to songs while drawing. Draw the mood of the song you know?"

"Damn, haha you sound kinda like me. Not tryna be cheesy or anything but i love listening to music too, I'm shit at drawing tho, i can barely draw a stickman"

Both of you exchanged a little chuckle at his open confession about himself. And even though it had only been a few minutes of words between the two of you, you felt at that moment that he wasn't like the other boys who popped up to talk to you first. This one genuinely seemed interested in you just to make a new friend.

-----------------------🤝------------------------

"Yo y/n you wanna ditch PE and hang out in the library? The new Resident Evil movie came out we can watch"

"You know what, yeah let's yeet"

You don't know how it went from spending lunch times together, to skipping the most boring subjects to hang out and hide. It'd been a few months since you started your new friendship with Yoongi, and by now you were known as the inseparable duo, funny enough both of you became the class representatives. Somehow you two got closer and closer each day, the more you talked the more you felt like you've known each other for years, yet some part of you knew that there was more to Yoongi than he was showing to you.

On a particularly slow day at your classes, you and Yoongi had pre planned to sneak out to hang out at your usual spot in the library. Sitting at the back of the library the both of you laughed at a joke Yoongi made about how almost the whole school shipped the both of you.

"You know y/n, I envy you"

"Oh well, I know I'm fabulous" you playfully said as you flipped your hair back, earning a little grunt and a harmless eye roll from Yoongi.

"It's not that you loonatic, i envy you...cause you have such a nice relationship with your family"

His sudden statement caught you slightly off guard but you gave him a look, clearly eager to know the reason behind his words. Flashing half a smile towards you he starts his story.

"Growing up for me was, well, it was an experience. I grew up under the care of foster parents who constantly reminded me that my parents gave me away cause i was a burden, all my life that's what i was told. Never had a father figure or mother figure to help shape my emotions? Guess that's why I don't show it if I'm sad or depressed, which is actually most of the time"

he looks down at his hands and chuckles softly.

"But you know something y/n? Being with you makes me feel like I could be myself, like I don't have to be afraid of being judged. And that's why I wanted you to know the truth but i understand if you don't wanna get involved or-"

You cut him off by placing your hand on his, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Yoongi, i want you to know that I'll always be here for you and you can talk to me about this anytime okay? You're my best friend now! And I'm hoping I'm yours too?" You ask in a more playful tone making yoongi giggle.

"Of course you are"

"Good! Cause i come in a package deal of crackhead and supportive as well as a no return contract"

"Sounds perfect to me bestie"

-----------------------😚------------------------

Over 2 years had passed and the whole highschool down to the teachers were sure the two of you were in a relationship, as everyone saw the two of you being practically stuck together almost all the time. Yoongi and your friendship became stronger than ever since that day he decided to open up to you. It became a regular thing where you'd confide in each other for emotional comfort as well as motivation and support. Not missing the fact that your level of crackhead together had become an all time high.

Your finals and exams blasted through and you had spent all your study weeks with Yoongi in the library. As sketchy as it was you and your best friend actually did sincere studying. And as it would, your hard work together paid off earning the both of you high marks in your finals. The two of you didn't miss to make a trademark crackhead scene at the receiving of the scroll ceremony when you accidentally tripped on your shoelace and Yoongi cracked up laughing and clapping before helping you up. The two of you celebrate with drinks and a lot of food that night and Yoongi paid for everything to make it up to you for laughing when you fell.

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror before heading out to your highschool's hall. It was your graduation party but more importantly to you it was Yoongi's birthday. Coincidentally the two events had fallen on the same day, and what better opportunity than to get dressed up to party at your graduation ceremony together. It had been a heck of a ride these last two years, and you were going to make sure this last school event would be memorable.

Upon arriving you scan around the hall of students in search of the familiar face.

"Looking for me?"

He makes his presence behind you known by clearing his throat. You turn around to give your usual playful comment back but the words were caught in your throat as your gaze landed on your best friend. He was dressed smart, in a suit that looked like it was custom made to fit him, his hair in a side part and bangs neatly framing his face. You were so used to seeing him in his casual hoodies and ripped jeans that seeing him in formal wear made you choke on your words.

Too focused on getting your senses back in check, you don't notice how Yoongi's train of thought was stopped dead in its tracks as he watched you turn around to face him. He never pictured his crackhead of a best friend in something other than t-shirts and track pants. Seeing you in a dress that hugged your figure in all the right places and taking in the sight of you, with your makeup and hair all done to suit the dress you were wearing nearly made him pass out from how he was holding his breath to admire you.

Clearing the silence between the two of you, Yoongi speaks up first.

"Well well, you don't completely look like the satanic spawn of hot cheetos and depression today. You actually look pretty good"

Smirking a little smile you bite back at his comment.

"Well same to you too Mr. I'm a millennial emo teen. You actually look, presentable today"

The two of you exchanged a playful giggle and assumed your seats at your class tables as the ceremony went on.

You don't see the small glances Yoongi takes in your direction, the thoughts gushing through his mind about how you looked at the moment and cursing himself for not realising your features sooner. He admired the way you had chosen to dress up today, seeing the way you had styled your hair so your curls would frame your face, the way you had done your makeup in a more natural looking way that he thought suited you perfectly. Yoongi didn't remember when the unlabeled feelings for you came but the longer he looked at you the more he was starting to put a name to the feelings he had. So much so that he had completely spaced out in his thoughts of you like that he didn't realise you were speaking to him.

" -don't you think so Yoongi?"

"I'm sorry what did you say? The umm, the music is so loud"

"I saaaaiiddd it's beginning to get a little dull at this graduation ceremony, we need a little surprise, don't you think?"

"Surprise?? What kind of surprise?"

Flashing a smile his way you get up and walk towards the front of the hall where the ceremony host was finishing up their ending speech. Whispering into the host's ear, he gives you the microphone and you confidently stride to the front. But you accidentally go too close to the speaker and it lets out an unpleasant squee, making you move back and away a little. You look up and around finding your best friend's eyes looking back at you giggling at the scene that just occured.

"Well that's one way to get everyone's attention" you chuckle earning muffled chuckles and words from the hall.

"So firstly congrats to everyone on graduating y'all did it. But that's not why I'm up here right now. Today is a special day for someone, and since it's the last day we'll all be gathering I wanted to make this memorable for him. So everyone I would like to wish out here, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIN YOONGI"

you started to sing happy birthday and the rest of the hall joined in singing with you.

In all this happening, Yoongi could only focus on you, the way you just boldly got up to sing out loud and wish him Happy Birthday in the most "you" way possible. So he didn't know if it was the moment or if it was his unlabeled feelings overflowing for you, that he got up and walked towards you as the song was ending. He couldn't tell what came over him at that moment but he knew for sure he wasn't going to stop what he was about to do next. Cupping your cheeks in his palms, he leaned in, pressing his soft lips to yours. Kissing you with deep feelings overtaking his mind. The moment his lips touched yours he knew what those unlabeled feelings were, it was Love.

You couldn't process fast enough that your best friend was striding towards you with a goal, a desire. And you surely didn't expect for him to suddenly kiss you. Registering the feeling of his lips on yours, your eyes closed on their own as if on automatic response. You sank into the feeling of his lips, and it was then you felt the spark that ignited your own unlabeled feelings for Yoongi. You had definitely asked yourself countless times before if what you were feeling for Yoongi was more than just friendship. On the countless nights he had cried on your shoulder or when you cried on his, on the many occasions where you were both always partners in crime, you would always glance at Yoongi and wonder what more could there be to the feelings between you.

As the both of you slowly pulled away from each other a roaring sound of cheers erupted as it seemed to be that the two of you were the last ones to know you two were actually in love with each other. Taking your hand in his, Yoongi and you ran out of the hall that night knowing well where the two of you stood from that moment on.

-----------------------❤️------------------------

"No babe I think you should definitely take the opportunity to study there, I know it's far but it'll be really good for you, plus it's something you really like! It'll take some time for you to get used to the new place but i know you'll fit right in. In fact i know your wack ass would stand out"

You giggled at his comment but you wholeheartedly took his motivation and advice. But the question and thoughts still lingered in your mind as you heard Yoongi chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"But Yoongi, this means we'd be in a long distance relationship, with you going off to study in the opposite direction and all. Even our breaks don't match Yoongi.. what'll we do" the worrying tone in your voice didn't go unnoticed by Yoongi as he answered you in a calm reassuring tone.

"It'll take some work, but i know we can get through this okay? We'll make it, we can make it. I love you" you smiled at Yoongi's voice uttering the sweet words of love as you felt yourself calm your thoughts.

"I love you too Yoongi. Well then, keep me company while i pack?"

"You bet"

It had been a few months since you started dating, and honestly it didn't feel any different from when the two of you were in your phase of friendship, everything was going relatively smooth apart from the little fights and misunderstandings you had now that you were a couple. Sometimes you sit to think to yourself if moving into a relationship with Yoongi was the best choice, it would feel as though sometimes he would act differently and not like he always would but you just shake of the thoughts. You just figured with all these future college studies and intakes coming about that he was just as stressed as you were. You assured yourself that the two of you would be alright and that you'll always have each other.

A few more months pass and the two of you have already started your college lives. Yoongi being in a campus almost 8 hours away from you with minimal transport for him to even go home let alone plan to meet you. It was going smoothly, settling into orientation and getting to know the layouts of the campus well, meeting new friends and truly taking in your next step in education. You and Yoongi would exchange day to day text messages about how orientation and the first days of classes went.

All well and good till Yoongi's texts became slower and less frequent, he would always say that he's busy with his friends there, or straight up not giving a response at all. You became more and more fearful at how this long distance thing was going to work out for the two of you.

28th Tuesday

[12:27am] hey Yoongi! I hope you had a great day, I miss you and hope you sleep well, love you!

[08:40am] Hey Babe, good morning! I'm in class now, wishing we could skip like old times haha, hope you have a great day! Text me soon

[6:48pm] Hey i just got back to my dorm after classes, it was super fun! How was your day??

[8:11pm] Yoongi?? Are you okay? Are you busy babe?

[8:24pm] I miss youuuuuuuu :(

[10:16pm] Yoongi :(

You tossed your phone to the side of your bed as you felt your tears well up, why was he suddenly avoiding you? Is he okay?? Did he get hurt? Your thoughts were spiraling, getting messier till you heard the familiar ping from your phone. You scurried to your phone to see Yoongi's name pop up on the screen. Your smile quickly faded, replaced by disappointment at his reply.

[10:43pm] Hey, was busy with friends today, going to bed now ttyl <3

You frowned and wouldn't let him go this time. The days of short texts to unreplied texts and this is how he replies now? In a fit of fury you call him.

"Hello?-"

"Yoongi what's wrong? You haven't been replying to my texts as usual are you okay??"

"Mmh I'm fine, just busy with classes and my new friends y/n"

"Well I can't accept that answer Yoongi, I'm busy with classes and friend's here too but I take the time so why can't you?"

"Hey it's not that big of a deal y/n, we're in new environments now and it'll take me some time to settle in"

"Yoongi surely you have at least 5 minutes a day to text me??"

"Yeah of course I do, I just texted you didn't i?"

"That short ass reply was what you call a text Yoongi? It really sounds like you're avoiding me"

"You know what y/n I don't have time for this right now I'm tired"

"No Yoongi, I haven't talked to you properly in days come on don't you miss me Yoongi?"

"To be honest I've been enjoying the new company here that's I haven't missed you much"

"What do you mean Yoongi? You don't think of me?"

"Not all the time no, i have other things to think about here y/n i have new responsibilities here I can't be thinking about you all the damn time, just be happy I texted you back"

"Are you threatening to not text me anymore Yoongi? Is that what you're saying? You don't wanna talk to me anymore?"

"Oh god for fucks sake y/n stop being so clingy alright? Just grow up a little!"

The sound of his voice in heightened frustration made you choke on your words, you silenced yourself as his words rang loud in your head.

"You know what y/n I don't think this will work out, I'm going to get even busier and this will just be in the way of it all"

"Yoongi…"

"I'm sorry y/n but clearly this distance is proving that we won't work out"

"Are you... breaking up with me Yoongi?.."

The pain in your voice and the soft shaky exhale doesn't go unnoticed by Yoongi. Yoongi takes a deep breath, realising he spoke too fast in frustration. As much as he did feel for you this distance was tearing you apart and Yoongi didn't want to believe it but it was the truth. He spoke softer this time giving his side of his explanation.

"Y/n, you've been nothing but amazing to me, but I realize that we were more compatible as friends, I mean think about it, we've had so many petty fights that we never had before we dated. Our growing college life will further hinder our relationship. I don't want to hurt you like this by not giving you the love and attention you deserve. I'll always love you y/n, just not as more than friends I suppose"

You couldn't believe what was happening right now, your world felt like it was crashing down on you hard and fast, you could feel the sharp stinging in your chest from how your heart was breaking the more reality hit you. Yoongi's words had reason to them, but you were still in a state of confusion. Why could you make time for Yoongi but he couldn't for you? Maybe it's because the two of you are pursuing different fields of studies? Maybe he really had better things to do? Yoongi didn't want to hurt your feelings by making you feel abandoned so he was in fact abandoning you? No? But he said he'll still love you?? Your head was spinning a bunch of thoughts ran through your head.

"Okay Yoongi...if that's what would be the best for us..then okay"

"Don't worry okay? We'll still text as usual, talk when we can okay? I won't let you go, you're still my best friend y/n"

You didn't know if his words would be comforting enough, but at that moment you took what you had and calmed your thoughts for now.

"Okay Yoongi.."

"Good, I have an early schedule tomorrow. I'll talk to you later okay? I'm going to bed now. Goodnight y/n"

"Good night Yoongi"

-----------------------💔------------------------

As it will, Yoongi and you slowly drifted apart. You would often see his social media updates about how he was actively participating in clubs, and how he had taken up new responsibilities, going to camps and hosting events at his institute and he definitely seemed to be doing well. You on the other hand fell more and more at war with your emotions, it didn't hinder your studies. Thankfully you could keep those two apart. But whenever it got a little too quiet you'd think of him, the days in highschool when you were inseparable. You missed his laugh, his endearing way of calling you the most heinous nicknames. You definitely missed his comforting arms, his words of encouragement when you were down, you wished nothing more that in this moment you were crying to him instead of because of him.

You couldn't believe that you were sitting here, broken and feeling alone by the guy that made his way into your life, and had now made his way out in the most painful way possible. You were left there clueless and confused. Did he do it for you? Was it the right thing? Did he really think of you? Why was this happening? What would have happened if you didn't date? Would things be different? Would your best friend have stayed? All these questions playing through your mind, countless nights you spent crying yourself to sleep. Thinking of how you felt almost betrayed, you cursed at yourself for sending texts to him that were only left on read or replied with a simple "I'm busy, text you later".

Slowly days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as you hadn't spoken much to Yoongi. You became stone hearted from all that had happened and slowly you got back into yourself. You were more and more active in your college life and you were growing to be better at controlling your emotions. Sure some little things remind you of him now and then, but it was much easier by now to brush his thoughts off. As sadly as your situation was you learned to move with it and not let it consume you. Every now and then you'd see Yoongi piston updates on his progressively active life and you'd feel happy for him, you wondered if he ever felt the same for you when he saw your updates on how well you were doing.

----------------------🍃-------------------------

It had been a total of 4 years since everything happened, you were on a roll and you had graduated college. You had a few job applications pending and you were more stable with your life by now. All the questions you once had were stored in a box collection dust in the far corner of your mind.

It was a relaxing Saturday evening, you were in your apartment lounging on your bed. As you were chatting away with your friends a familiar ping aroused from your phone. The name that popped up on the screen made your heart heavy and you breathing shallow, a true ghost from your past…

"Yoongi 🥀"

Your screen read. Taking a deep breath you opened the chat.

[9:57pm] Hey y/n it's been a long time… are you free tonight? Can I call you?

You didn't know what exactly to think right now. Every cell in your brain telling you not to. That you shouldn't give into him again, and that you should just talk to him over text no matter what it was. But your heart was screaming for him, the familiar feeling of longing for him returning in a massive tsunami, washing over your thoughts. You took a deep breath to centre your thoughts and decided you'd listen to him and talk to him again.

[9:59pm] Hey Yoongi, yeah I'm free to talk.

As soon as the message was read by him, your phone rang. You took one more deep breath and answered the call.

"Hello y/n, how are you?"

You cursed in your head at how much you missed his voice, the way he spoke to you at this moment had a hint of the same longing you had for him.

"Hey..Yoongi, I'm good. How are you?"

"I've been good too.. congratulations on graduating"

"Thanks Yoongi, congratulations on graduating too.."

"Thanks…"

The silence that fell had you both reflecting on everything that happened and how fast it all went by. The box of questions in your mind burst out once again whereas Yoongi on the other hand was feeling guilt and hate towards himself for everything that he put you through. Little did you know that these last few months Yoongi was hit with the hard realisation that he had lost not only his best friend but the person he cared about the most. His family certainly did not improve and the one person who was there for him when he needed it, he had left broken hearted and abruptly once he found a new escape. Yoongi was slowly flooded with memories of you as he neared his own college graduation. He remembered your highschool graduation and how he felt for you there in that moment of time. He spent a few nights crying at the realisation that he had thought of what's best for you but didn't think of how you felt and how he had left things between the two of you.

"Why Yoongi…."

Was all you managed to say out loud before your emotions caved in. Understanding what you were asking he answered.

"I was so caught up in the new environment of growing up and moving on that I did what I thought was the best to not hurt you...but I didn't think far enough that doing so will indeed hurt you.. and I wasn't there for you like i was supposed to. It took a hard hit to my head to realise that I was wrong y/n… you were always there for me and stupidly I made this mistake… I thought i was thinking of the best for both of us, when in fact i was thinking of myself.. I was selfish and I realised that…so many things reminded me of you y/n, the clouds, the sun, the sight of roses, the smell of hot cheetos.."

You giggled a little at his last comment earning a little muffled one from Yoongi.

"I understand if you hate me for what I did to you y/n… and I don't know if it'll ever be the same between us again.. but I'm willing to try to bring back what we had... if you're willing to give me a chance…"

You exhaled softly before letting out everything that you've been feeling.

"I don't hate you Yoongi, I never could and I never will. You're everything to me Yoongi and I was just really hurt by what you did and how you ended things. So many thoughts went through my head and I won't even talk about how much you made me cry….you dipshit" the playful cursing nickname made Yoongi chuckle a little, slowly making him feel reassured at the directions of the conversation.

"I'm willing to give us a chance Yoongi..and you're right, I don't expect it to be the same as what we had, I just hate that I lost my best friend.."

"I know..i understand that..and I'm sorry..for everything"

"It's okay Yoongi, I'm sorry too… maybe I should've been more understanding…"

"Hey… do you.. wanna hang out Tomorrow night?"

"You wanna hang out?"

"Yeah, i wanna see you and catch up with you"

"Sure Yoongi that'd be nice"

"Great!! I'll meet you at the café by our old highschool?"

"Sure Yoongi, sounds great"

"Right then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow Yoongi"

You could hear the smiles in each other's voices as you both bid goodnight and hung up the phone. You didn't know what it was exactly but you knew just from that phone call that everything was going to be alright. You felt like you breathed much easier now, your mind much lighter. Yoongi felt the same, he was smiling more now filled with the excitement of meeting you again tomorrow after years.

-----------------------✨------------------------

You made sure to check yourself out in the mirror a few more times before heading towards the café. You had chosen to wear a simple yet stylish outfit, your hair tied back in a low loose ponytail, your short hairs framing your face. You were nervous yet excited to be reunited with your best friend again. And as you approach the café, there he was. Standing outside the door of the café waiting for you. The now slightly more mature looking, dark fluffy haired man, wearing a long black coat was looking just as nervous and excited as he was looking down at his feet.

"I didn't know you needed glasses to see now"

your voice made him turn his head fast in your direction. The moment his gaze landed on you, it felt like highschool all over again. The way you looked standing there, just centimetres away from him. He took in your slightly matured face yet he told himself that you hadn't changed one bit.

"It's official, you're old Yoongi"

He chuckled and playfully scoffed at your comment.

"Well at least i don't dress like the satanic spawn of depression and hot cheetos"

"Sure thing Mr. I'm still a millennial emo teen"

The two of you laughed, and the world seemed to slow down. The feeling that nothing ever really changed between the two of you was knowing, however this time something felt entirely different. Both of you could feel it for sure. It was the feeling of a bond stronger than both friendship and love. You didn't know what the feeling was exactly, all that you knew was that you're never losing each other again. All this while you've been sitting there watching the feelings you had burn and crash in the worst way possible, but today right here at this café, right in front of your eyes you watched everything Begin Again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts au #yoongi fanfic #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #bts yoongi #kpop fluff #bts fluff #bts angst

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katsukikitten · 4 years

Text

Golden opportunity

A/N Hello lovies. This one is a bit more intense as I've been corrupted by Jo @lady-bakuhoe so enjoy some sub Bakugo with a delightfully hurtful twist. This is my first sub Bakugou work so I hope you enjoy.

WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+ AU/ Adult Au. Heavy Adult themes such as dub con and non con. Mentions of cheating. Imbalanced power dynamic.

Bakugo grinds his teeth to prevent himself from blasting the door off of its hinges, mad he let you slip through his fingers. Angry hands shoving the key into the knob before roughly shoving it open only to slam it shut.

"You make this too easy." Your voice rings out in the darkness of the apartment but burning red eyes find the source easily. He doesn't even bother flicking on the lights as his eyes adjust to see you sitting on the countertop of the island. Hand holding up a golden apple. He lunges for you, hands outstretched to strangle you to keep you quiet but you uncross your legs just in time to land a steel toed boot into his ribs. He slides back hitting the side table, he catches the lamp before it can crash, ears perked and eyes peering down the hall to the beds rooms.

"You know what happens when I take a bite don't you?" Your voice is a low hum in his ears, "I would hate to wake the new addition of the happy Bakugou family."

The threat competes with the rushing blood in his ears. Rage flowing hot in his veins as he watch you bring that deadly apple to those damn plump lips. His mind playing over the last time you had bitten into the apple of discord. One bite could cause the smallest of arguments in an instant, throwing even the most level headed team into chaos.

But two bites, two bites could end lives and random and three?

Well the last time you had taken three half of the city was swallowed whole by a swirling black portal.

A tremor runs through him to be so powerless.

"Eris…" Your villain name but not your true name leaves his lips. It never fails to cause a shiver down your spine. The gruffness to his very tone was enough to have you wanting more. It always had, especially the first time the two of you met. He pinned you against the brick, few fast enough or strong enough to do such a feat. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, his crimson eyes raking over your body clad in a black skin tight suit with a zipper resting just below your collar bones. Your swift fingers yank it down to your navel.

His wedding band burns on his finger, each time he was forced to please you he had come to like it just a tad bit more. He swallows again as you jump from the counter with a sigh.

Going through the same song and dance was beginning to get so boring. He wanted you, it was so clear in the way that he watched you, in the way he was first on scene for your crimes no matter how far away and in the way he kissed you when asked.

So why did you have to threaten his family in order to get what you both want?

With ever step you took forward he took back until his sculpted back was pressed against the wall. Your hand wraps around his thick throat as you shove him further into the wall, the light switch bites into his shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise but he's had worse.

Why was he denying you? The thought alone had you seeing red as you're sure to make his vision blur. His still gloved hands gripping onto your forearm as your free hand travels just above the hem of his black hero pants before you shove it down his boxers to slowly stroke his thick length, coating him in his own precum.

His eyes flutter from the combined actions.

"Such a dirty boy huh?" You purr, he glares your way as he gasps out his response.

Trying so hard not to moan your name.

"You're the desperate slut forcing me." Your press your hand harder careful to avoid his larynx despite how badly you want to damage it now. Pressing until his grip on your arm begins to weaken, his breaths coming out as desperate pants as you increase the pace. He groans, unable to stop the buck of his hips into your touch.

"Am I really forcing you though?" Your honeyed voice in his ear prompts another illicit, breathy grunt as your apple blossom wine and bonfire scent smother his senses.

Fuck is all he can think as you relieve the ache of his cock, threatening to burst in your delicate deadly hands. His tell signs of coming are easy, flushed cheeks, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fights it, before the lock onto you. You stop just in time, pulling harshly on his tight balls, he lets out a whine as you remove your hand from his throat.

"I didn't hear you ask permission to cum." You move the fabric of his hero shirt, stretching the collar to bite down on his shoulder, harshly sucking and nipping until you were satisfied. A set of red teeth marks and gorgeous black bruises adorn his shoulder. Another set he will have to somehow hide.

"Fuck. You." He snarls quietly, trying to push you away but your nails bite into his balls before you give them a tight squeeze. He gulps down air as he watches your ass sashay away. Stopping just before the couch to point with an expectant finger.

"Now." You bite impatient as ever as he reluctantly makes his way to the couch. Glancing down the hallway praying that the two of you are quiet enough.

Last time the both of you were almost caught, your mouth wrapped tightly around his length as he was forced to have a conversation with his sleepy wife. You being the devil that you are, had slid two arched digits into his ass at the wrong time. Almost getting the two of you caught.

He came in your mouth as he told his wife "I love you."

Again his wedding band burns along with his heart but nothing beats the burning in his loins.

He swallows thickly, hands popping as he removes his gloves.

"We could've done this when I saw you earlier tonight." He bites, attempting to take control as he towers over you, large hand wrapping around your throat. Making sure you see stars but you hold his glare, hardly ready to give power to him.

At least not until he stops lying to himself by thinking he could actually play house with a boring, quirkless woman. What a waste of his seed.

"Such a dirty boy. You would've rather fucked me in the dark alley?" You purr, breaking his hold with a jab at his arm before you shove him on the couch behind you.

"Would you have liked that better because you would have been able to scratch my back against that brick again? Was it the thought of being caught that made your cock so hard for me?" You straddle him to remove his shirt and marvel over your work. A mix of bruises and bites from past battles and previous fucks. You bring your mouth to his ear, pulling the lobe between your teeth.

"Or maybe it's because you got to yell out my name when you came." A shudder runs through his body, his cock aches and twitches at the memory.

Of you looking so fucked out as you finally allowed him a moment of dominance. Your tits bouncing as he roughly pounded into your sopping pussy at one in the morning in a dimly lit alley. The sound of bodies clashing and throaty moans echoing back to him before you held your half lidded gaze with his, your throat marked by him for once. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as your thick frame quaked in his arms, cunt grabbing onto him for all he was worth.

He hated to admit but it was the best cum of his life. Fucking into your tight pussy as hard as he wanted.

Your name, your real name, leaving his lips and his knees weak.

He swallows guilt whole as you ease off of him yanking down his pants and boxers. His cock springs free causing you to lick your lips and fight the urge to rub your thighs together for some desperately needed friction. You slide out of your suit easily as you step forward, legs slightly apart as your eyes stare hard at the man before you with a silent command.

He sucks his teeth but does not disobey as he lets his fingers find your soaked folds. He growls, swirling calloused digits around your swollen bud. Waiting for those thick thighs to shake before he reaches around to grab a hand full of your ass. Pulling your delicious and heavenly naked body towards him. Your nails bite into his forearm as you glare down at him.

"Did I say you could touch my ass peasant?" You hiss, bending over to grab his jaw tightly.

He sneers, baring his teeth as he replies.

"I'm not the dirty slut who's been breaking into houses and threatening heros to fuck them, Princess." He keeps up his quick pace, wanting nothing more than for you to come undone by his hand, on his command for once. Waiting for your thighs to quiver beneath him but instead you shove his arm away before he can slink to your core.

Straddling him, purposefully shoving your tits in his face with a single command.

"Suck." You say humping his length but never slipping onto him, he growls with each stroke, teeth nipping at your perked nipples waiting for the familiar feel of your velvet walls.

The house settles making a creaking noise that has Bakugou's hands on your hips, his throat closing up as he strains to listen. You grab onto his face harshly, letting your thumb pull at his lower lip before shoving it into his mouth, deep enough that he gags.

"I didn't tell you to stop." He wants to bite your thumb clean off and relish over the coppery tang that would flood his taste buds. But instead he gives your thumb an obedient suck.

He pulls away with a lewd pop, one hand twisting a sensitive bud while the other sucks, all the while your clit slides delightfully over him rocking yourself through your first three orgasms of the night.

As the third washes over you, you plunge onto his weeping cock and he can feel your pussy convulsing over your last high. Making you almost uncomfortably tight but you felt so good and full. You grab onto the couch beside his head staring into his eyes as you growl.

"Don't you dare come, I don't plan to stop until I squirt all over what's mine." He swallows thickly and answers before thinking.

"Yes, Princess." You smirk, having finally gotten something trained into him before you start the violent roll of your hips. His cock hitting all the right spots, already making the coil in your stomach tight.

"Touch me." You moan and his hands begin to roam over your body finding your hips that grind on him, and squeezing your ribs.

You were so tiny in his large hands yet you held so much power over him. The thought made his dick twitch, squeezing harder to keep himself from pumping up into you, he groans relishing your tightness around his girth.

"F...fuck Katsuki." You cry out, coming undone again, fucking your self through another impossible high.

He sees it on your face, how desperate you are for another release and he wants so badly to help you keep good on your promise and squirt all over what belongs to you. He should feel guilty, he should feel angry and disgusted over your words but instead all he feels is undeniable pleasure.

To be honest the thought of his wife wasn't on his mind at all.

He could see only you, sitting atop your throne using him as a living dildo, fucking yourself to greater highs.

"Peasant, help out your Princess." He thrusts into you harshly, reminding you of his own power angling his hips to snap just right. His dick slides along that sinful spongy spot that has your vision blurring. Still you see the sweat on his brow as he is ready to chase his own release. Fighting to keep himself from painting your walls white. Movement in the hallway catches your eye, you smirk looking down to see his eyes fluttering as he looks up at you.

"Make me cum first. Then I want to hear you cum." You squeeze his throat, making it that much harder for him to focus on not busting. He goes feral, pounding up into you carelessly and loudly grunting as best he can through your steely grip. You take your free hand and harshly rub over your clit until he's threatening to spill. You hold eye contact with a figure in the dark before you look into a deep set of crimson eyes.

Throwing your head back as you grind your hips to meet his until you're moaning entirely too loudly, squirting onto your, fingers, his lap and his chest.

As you promised.

Your pulsing cunt grabs onto his throbbing cock so tightly that he cannot take it. He groans as his hips sloppily piston and stutter.

"F...fuck fuck. Eris…" Head falling onto the back of the couch as he fills you to the brim. Your name leaving his lips with a final thrust.

"Bakugou?" A shaky voice calls out, harsh light flooding the living room showcasing what he had avoided for almost a year.

His wedding band burns against this ring finger, a lie lodged in his throat as he sits covered in a mixture of your slick and his seed. He looks to you with wide, angry eyes. His hands burning the skin on your bare ribcage. You smile, leaning down to kiss his horrified and angry face.

"Another day my naughty peasant." You smile with delight, apple appearing in your hand. You take a large bite out of the golden flesh and disappear into thin air.

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #non con #dub con #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut

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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years

Text

Lucky

A/N I’m enjoying going back and filling in some of the missing Metric Universe details. This one is set during the time of Jamie’s injury, so just after The Beginning, and it introduces some important secondary characters.

Inspired by the Radiohead song “Lucky”, and particularly by Thom Yorke wailing “it’s going to be a glorious day” as though he is trying to will it to be true from the depths of his agonized soul.

The entire Metric Universe is available on my Ao3 page.

January 6, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

Sterile hallways. The noxious funk of London smog blending with the antiseptic sting of the Intensive Care Unit. The endless thrum of traffic, bleep of life-saving equipment, squeak of rubber soles on linoleum. It was only when she left the Highlands that she realized how much she took their clean air and miles of quiet for granted.

A few feet away from where she kept vigil in a stiff avocado chair, her brother lay in a medically-induced coma. An orchestra of machinery beat out the tempo to his survival. The zigs and zags of his heartbeat against the ivory background of an electrocardiograph called forth memories of their youth, racing like wee fiends down the snow-laden slopes behind Lallybroch.

Younger by four years, Jamie had long been larger-than-life, even before he surpassed her own diminutive stature at age eleven. Lying now under hospital sheets carefully draped to avoid his flayed back, she remembered the tiny babe in arms their mother had carefully lowered into her lap all those years ago. Fragile, as though life clung to him with only a provisional grip.

“Dinna ye dare think of leaving me, Jamie Fraser,” she softly threatened for what must be the hundredth time since arriving at her brother’s bedside five days before. “I ken ye miss them, but Mam and Da have each other now. I only have you.”

January 11, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

“Fer the love of Christ and all the saints, jus’ drink the damn water ye clotheid!” an all-too-familiar female voice rang out.

“Leave me in peace, Janet. I dinna want any water,” a masculine growl replied.

Ian Murray was still some distance from Room 418A, but he could hear the siblings bickering just fine. Doubtless a good handful of staff and other patients were within earshot as well. He rounded the corner and observed a scene that was equal parts poignant, comic and exasperating.

Immobile by necessity while the surface of his back slowly reinvented itself, his best friend lay facing the door. Ian’s fiancée stood beside the bedrail, five feet of visible agitation. She held a cup of ice water so tightly in her right hand, the straw quivered.

Jamie was no longer the pallid husk who awaited them at the end of a frantic race from Lallybroch to the Royal London that first morning of the new year. Normally hale and over-flowing with vitality, it was distressing to witness him so motionless, eyes sunken and muscles slack. Unfortunately for both Jamie and Ian, Jenny’s sharp tongue increased in direct proportion to how much emotional turmoil she was forced to cope with.

“Och, ye’re finally here,” the woman in question exclaimed. “Will ye explain tae this bampot tha’ he willna improve if he doesna listen tae what his doctors tell him?”

“And what of no’ getting me riled up, hmm? Ye dinna seem tae care what the doctors say when ye stick yer neb in my face every twa minutes.”

“Mebbe the doctors dinna realize that ye’re a muckle-sized bairn with the sense God gave an...”

“ALRIGHT, THE BOTH OF YE!” Ian yelled over the melee. “I am tired of hearing ye bicker an’ so is the entire fourth floor. Jenny, ye’re tired. I’ll take o’er for the night while ye get some rest. An’ Jamie, drink yer water before I pour it over yer bloody hot head.”

Both Frasers froze with their mouths open in retort, surprised by Ian’s uncharacteristic outburst. A deafening minute of silence elapsed before Jenny silently gathered her coat, cap and purse, wished the two men a curt goodnight, then left in a swish of gabardine and discontent.

“Ye’re gonna pay for that later,” Jamie remarked, bending a rueful smirk around the extended straw.

“It’ll be worth it no’ tae hear ye two scold each other fer eight hours,” Ian retorted, taking Jenny’s place in the uncomfortable avocado armchair but sliding it back a foot so that it no longer blocked Jamie’s view of the hallway.

“Jen could harry Auld Nick inta church, and ye ken it well, a charaid.”

“Grant her some mercy. She’s scared witless, Jamie. After yer Da...” Ian left the rest unsaid.

His childhood friend nodded against the bleach white pillow, weariness and something more insidious weighting his eyes closed. Minutes passed, but Ian could tell from his irregular breath than Jamie was still awake.

“How is it today?”

A shoulder twitched in a minute shrug which still caused its owner’s brows to furrow with pain, though his eyes remained closed.

“Hurts like hell, if ye must know. But I’m told I should feel lucky tae be alive by a team o’ London’s finest medical minds.”

“And do ye?” Ian persisted, trying to excavate the kernel of anguish that lay almost hidden beneath all the layers of physical pain. It had been nagging at him since Jamie first woke three days earlier. It wasn’t only the extensive physical damage to his body and daunting road to recovery that was afflicting his friend. The blast had shifted something nearer his foundation, destabilizing the very structure of the man he’d known since childhood.

A long, hissing breath told him Jamie understood what Ian meant by his question, and was giving it due consideration.

“Mebbe feeling lucky is wha’ led me tae this hospital bed.” He spoke quietly but urgently, with the tone of a penitent in the confessional booth awaiting divine judgement.

“Ye dinna mean ye think ye deserved tae be burnt near tae death? Christ, Jamie, twas an industrial accident and ye’re a firefighter. Awful luck, aye, but twasn’t something ye did or didna do that brought it upon ye.”

Another long pause, and this time Ian thought his friend may have fallen asleep. Finally, almost drowned out by the whir and whisper of life-giving machinery,

“I dinna ken what I think anymore, a charaid. I got lost, an’ this is where my mindless feet brought me.”

Long after Jamie drifted to sleep, Ian sat in the awkward chair, listening to his breathing and trying to make sense of what he’d just been told.

February 13, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

Beads of sweat furled down his neck and his back burned anew. Aegrescit medendo, he thought wryly as he readjusted his grip on the wheeled walker and continued his unsteady progress.

“Very good, lad. We’ll have you running again in no time!” Dauntlessly cheerful and deceptively matronly, Jamie soon learned that Maureen Graham was an exacting physical therapist as well. It was exactly what he wanted, when he wasn’t cursing her for it.

“Can we no’ take the elevator to another floor? Mebbe down tae the A&E?” Jamie tried to pass it off as an offhand request, but silver-grey eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“That’s the third time you’ve asked to go downstairs this week, Jamie Fraser. I’m beginning to think you don’t like my ward.”

Thwarted, he carefully pivoted in a half circle and began the arduous trek back down the hallway to his room. Six weeks spent nearly immobile while the surface of his back was slowly reborn had sapped all his strength. Even if permission had been granted, he wasn’t certain he could navigate his weakened frame all the way to the emergency ward he’d last visited the night of his accident. The last place he’d seen her.

“What’s her name?” Mrs. Graham asked as he shuffled the final few feet and sank gratefully against his bed. He thought about deflecting her conjecture, but it posed an opportunity too good to pass up.

“I dinna ken”, he confessed. “Twas the nurse who saw tae me when I was first admitted. Curly brown hair. Eyes the colour o’ ripened barley. I think she served overseas fer a time. Afghanistan, mebbe?”

He was doing his best to appear nonchalant, aided in part by the fact that his muscles twitched violently after every therapy session, but he still didn’t think he was fooling Mrs. Graham.

“Oh, I know just the one. You were lucky to be in her hands. No wonder you pulled through.” She poured a large amount of fresh water into his re-useable bottle. He drank it down in rapid gulps that leaked over his chin. He realized his was beyond pride at this point.

“Her name?” he begged.

“Nurse Beecham. Spelled the French way, but she’s as English as they come.”

Nurse Beauchamp. She finally had a name. He vowed he would recover his strength so that one day he could walk up to her and properly express his gratitude.

#my writing #outlander

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legionofpotatoes · 3 years

Text

we decided to watch all story cutscenes from the new resident evil village videogame on a whim, since it’s not really our cup of tea gameplay-wise but seems to be this massive zeitgeist moment that made us morbidly curious. And I know how much everyone cares about my thoughts on things I know very little about, so. let’s get into it huh gamers. and yeah spoilers?

for context, I’ve only played resident evil 4 and a small portion of 5. I also read the wikipedia entry for 7’s plot recently. all this to say I was only vaguely aware of how tonally wacky the series was going in

I also completely gave up following the plot of the mutagens’ soap opera, so that paid off in spades here as you might imagine

anyway so that baby in the intro. that baby’s head is just massive. humongous toddlerdome. when ethan finds the baby’s head in a jar later on. there is no way that head would fit into that jar. bad game design. no not even game design. basic stuff. one hundred years in prison for jar modeler

if I see a single functional hetero marriage in video games I will cry tears of joy. I understand their misery is kind of The Point irt them badly working through the hillbilly romp trauma but like. sheesh. at least set that up as an emotional story goal the plot will help resolve. but nope they start off miserable and it goes nowhere

I know I know the mia thing has a huge wrinkle in it but like. not really in terms of dramatic function?? set up a happy end to the re7 nightmare (miranda can keep up appearances for all she cares) and then take that all away from angry griffin mcelroy for manpain. it will still absolutely work to set up the dramatic forward momentum. why throw in this cliche Hollywood Tension in their marriage if you’re not going to address it oh maybe because it’s normalized as automatically interesting because nuclear families are a self-propagating pit of a very narrow chance at emotional happiness relying on social stigma to preserve their empty function oops my baggage slipped in yikes abort mission

I called him griffin mcelroy because I saw his face on twitter and. yeah. I will continue to do this occasionally. my house my rules

... fuck the reason I’m hung up on this is specifically because the rest of the game is so tonally dexterous (which is a shining point to me! more on that later!), and yet they felt weirdly compelled to create the aesthetic trapping of a family-at-odds trope without following it through too well. a sign of both the good and the bad stuff to come

but listen the real reason why I wanted to talk about any of this is to nitpick the fascinating backwards-engineered nucleus of the entire thing; in that this game essentially creates a melting pot of just SO many disparate horror tropes and then makes a no-holds-barred unhinged effort at weaving thick lore to piece them all together. it is truly a sight to behold. like straight up you got your backwoods fright night situation, your gothic castle vampires, your rural-industrial werewolves, and don’t forget your bloated swamp monsters over there, with then a hard left turn into robotic body horror, and the entire ass subgenre of Creepy Doll writ large, and the bloodborne tentacle monsters, and a hellboy angel bossfight, which rides on the coattails of a mech-on-mech pacific rim bonanza, and just jesus henry christ slow down

almost all of these are textural hijack jobs that don’t really get into the metaphor plain of any of those settings but the game sort-of makes an argument that the texture IS the point and revels in it. It is kind of admirable almost. The same reason why the intro felt boxed in and unmotivated is also why the rest of the game just blasts off of its hinges to the point of complete and self-indulgent tonal abandon. I kinda loved that about it. lady dimitrescu made sure to hold her hat down as she bent forward in mahogany doorways and then suddenly she’s a giant gore dragon and you settle in your temp role as dark souls man with Gun to take her ass down. Excellent??

this rhino rampage impulse to gobble up every horror aesthetic known to man comes to head when the game wrestles with its FPS trappings in what is the most hilarious solution in creating visceral player damage moments. Since most cinematics and the entire game is in first person, that leaves precious little real estate for the devs to work with if they really want to sell griffin’s physical crucible. To wit. This dude’s forearms. Specifically just the forearms. They are MASSACRED throughout the story. The poor man lives out the silent hill dimension of a hand model. by the end cutscene he looks like a neatly dressed desk clerk who had decided to stick both his grabbers into garbage disposal grinders just a few hours prior. like in addition to everything else it manages to rope in that tinge of slapstick violence into its general grievous genre collection except this time it IS for a lack of trying! truly incredible

but wait his miracle clawbacks from everything his poor paws go through are retroactively explained away, yes, but far too vaguely and far too late to console me as I sat and watched everyone’s favorite baby brother reattach an entirely severed hand to his wrist stump by just. placing it on there. and giving it a lil twist ‘n pop terminator-style. and then willing his fingers back into motion right in front of my bulging eyes. this game just does not care. it does not give a shit. and boy howdy will it work to make that into one of its strongest suits

cause generally speaking resident evil was THE premiere vanilla zombie content destinaysh for like a decade, right? and as the rest of the world and mainstream media started encroaching and bloodying its blue ocean it went and just exploded in every single conceivable horror trope direction like a smilodon on catnip. truly, genuinely fascinating franchise moves

yeah the big vampire milf is hot. other news; grass... green. although I do love the implication that her closet is just identical white dresses on a rack. cartoon network-level queen shit

apropos of nothing I’ve said there’s also this hobo dante-devimaycry-magneto man, and I can’t believe this sentence makes sense. anyway he made that “boulder-punching asshole” joke referring to chris redfield and it was probably the only easter egg that really landed for me and boy did it land hard. I have not seen him punch the boulder in re5, mind. I had only heard about how funny it is from friends. and here this dude was, probably in the same exact mindset as me, trying to grapple with that insane mental image. with you on that ian mckellen, loud and clear

I advocate vehemently against the shallow pursuit of hyper photorealism in art direction but I gotta admit it works really in favor of immersive horror like this. the european village shacks especially gave me super unchill flashbacks to my rural countryside retreat in western georgia. I could smell the linoleum dude. not cool

faces are weird in this game. can’t place it. nice textures, good animation, but the modeling template is... uuh strange? and the hair. it has that clustered-flat-clumpy look that harkens to something very specific and unpleasant but I just don’t know what. sue me

griffin’s mental aptitude to take all this shit in stride and end every seemingly traumatizing bossfight involving some fucking eldritch being yet unseen through mortal eyes by essentially throwing out an MCU quip is just. What the fuck dude? I mean that was funny how you casually yelled the f-word at a god damn werewolf that you considered a fairy tale an hour ago but are you like, all right?? it was swinging a sledgehammer the size of a bus at you, ethan

oh oh the vampires are afraid of cold and your last name is winters. I get it haha

Pro Gamer Nitpick: boss fights seemed a bit unnecessarily long?? idk why the youtuber we picked decided the ENTIRE propeller man fight counted towards the vital story scenes he was stitching together, but man mr big daddy lite there really had some get up and go huh??

why are they saying dimitrescu.. like that. is it really how you say that word or is the english language relapsing into its fetish for ending every single word with a consonant at all costs

I’m not saying it’s a dramatic miss of a twist in context of all that’s going on, but the “you died in the last game actually and have been DC’s clayface ever since” revelation is low-key. it’s. it’s just funny to me, I dont know what to say. century-old god-witch fails her evil plan after she mistakenly removes heart from what was definitely NOT just some white guy with eight fingers after all

chris realizing he’s about to become the player character and immediately swapping out his tsundere trenchcoat for the muscletight sex haver sweater

the little bluetooth speaker-sized pipe bomb he taped to his knife was nuclear?? really??? I must have missed something because that is just too good. I buy it though I totally buy it. chris just got them fun-sized nukes in his car trunk for, you guessed it, Situations

anyway this is all for now just wanted to briefly touch on how unexpectedly funny and tonally irreverent this seemingly serious game turned out to be. did not articulate any cathartic story beats whatsoever but my god it had fun connecting those plot points. he just fucking put his severed hand back on his stump and it Just Worked todd howard get in here

#text #another one in my bulleted review series with no rhyme or reason #sorry resident evil fans this could be a painful read pls turn away #i know almost nothing about it but i am gonna be super fake familiar and critical of this one hey ho

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omg-imagine · 4 years

Text

⊱ Dirty Dancing ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Request: Please I'd like a Ke smut fic where he arrives home while Reader is listening music and doing a sexy dance (she wears a beautiful dress) and stares at her watching her dance moves, she notices him and they end up making love -Anon

Warnings: Smut

Words: 1.6k

A/N: Yiiikes I’ve neglected my requests for too long and I’m super sorry about that! I’ll be working on the two remaining in the upcoming weeks. Also, I added another anon’s request for neck kisses on here too. Hope you enjoy!

Shutting off the car’s engine, the sheer exhaustion from shooting long, grueling hours for the last three months was finally catching up to Keanu. Though his body desperately craved hours of fitful sleep, he chose to ignore it and prepared himself to see you instead.

In a state of utter weariness, he managed to drive across the city during rush hour just to have dinner with you tonight. He had missed you dearly throughout the entire time he was away and could no longer bear being apart from you, the most precious person in the world who ultimately held his heart.

Arriving at your house a half an hour early, Keanu wanted to surprise you. With a fresh bouquet of flowers in his hand and a bottle of your favorite red tucked securely under his arm, he quietly let himself in through the front door using the spare key you had given him.

From the foyer, he could already smell the enticing aroma of food wafting in the air. Stomach grumbling, he padded down the hall leading to the kitchen where the sound of music grew louder with his approach. Keanu’s lips quirked into a delighted smile as he rounded the corner, and his eyes widened at the surprising sight of you dancing to the lively beat.

For now, he decided to stay hidden in the shadows, his mind rapt at the way your hips sashayed to the seductive song blasting in the background. Donning a sexy, figure-hugging red dress which he hadn’t seen you wear previously, Keanu couldn’t tear his gaze away as the deep bass thudded through the walls. Still unaware of his presence, you exuded utter confidence with every rhythmic sway and dip of your alluring body, the sensual scene sending jolts of arousal through him.

Breath hitched in his throat, Keanu could feel his trousers tightening when he noticed the skirt of your dress had ridden up a little higher on your thighs, exposing more of your soft and supple skin. All he could think of at that very second was ripping your clothes off and taking you right then and there. Three months without having you had made him very impatient and very desperate.

Eyes devouring every inch of your beauty, Keanu thought about how dinner would surely be off the table for the next hour. He had forgotten how tired and hungry he was, a surge of energy and desire taking over as a result of watching your enticing show. Presently, his burning need inside was reserved for you and you only.

“Holy shit!” you gasped after you finally glanced over to where Keanu was and caught him standing there, an irrepressible smirk flashing across his face. “God, Ke. You scared me.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” he chuckled lowly while sauntering into the kitchen, placing the items he brought on the table.

Lowering the volume of the music, you then smiled at him once he reached you. “You’re here early. The chicken is still in the oven cooking.”

“I wanted to surprise my best girl,” Keanu replied, leaning down briefly to peck your lips. His hands slowly ran down the side of your body before settling on your hips. “Is this dress new?”

“I got it this morning,” you answered sweetly. “You like it?”

Keanu nodded, mouth ghosting down your neck. His breath tickled your skin as you released a soft moan when he pressed his body against yours, letting you feel the hardness between his legs. “I love it, and seeing the way you dance in it? That was very hot and entertaining as you can tell.”

“How much did you see?” You questioned, slipping your palms under Keanu’s shirt and noticing the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“Most of it. You’re a damn good dancer, baby. An incredibly sexy one, too.”

“Perhaps I should give you a private show next time,” you suggested with a sly wink, fingers rising to tangle themselves in his hair. You tugged on them the slightest bit, just enough to elicit a reaction from him.

Abruptly, Keanu then smoothly lifted you up in his arms, placing you on the cold, granite countertop of the kitchen island. He stood in between your spread legs, leaning down and trailing moist kisses along your jaw and collarbone. His hand began to hike your dress up, revealing your laced panties to him as his mouth moved to that sensitive spot behind your ear.

Keanu’s breath was warm and ragged on your skin as he whispered, “Definitely next time. Right now, I’m going to show you how much I enjoyed that little show of yours.”

Lips locked in a deep, fervent kiss, Keanu wasted no time touching you wherever he pleased. Hearing your hum of approval, his long digits skimmed up your inner thigh agonizingly, swallowing the airy moans escaping your throat. You cried out the moment he pulled your underwear to the side and slid his fingers inside your dripping cunt, your wet walls instantly squeezing around them with a vice-like grip.

It had been far too long.

Pulling back, Keanu’s dark, lust-blown eyes held your half-lidded gaze as he pushed in his dexterous digits until he was knuckle-deep before drawing them out almost teasingly, causing you to whine and writhe underneath him uncontrollably. Eventually, he gained speed, alternating between finger-fucking and stroking your clit as you quickly came apart with his hand alone.

Your eyes were clamped shut, chest heaving unsteadily as Keanu retracted his thick fingers from your core. Smiling, he licked the slick essence coating his fingers, its divine taste both tangy and sweet on his tongue, a flavor that was uniquely and delectably yours. Still lost in your post-orgasmic haze, he deftly unzipped the back of your dress, allowing him to easily remove it from your limp body.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, drinking in the bare sight of you. “You’re so beautiful, baby. I’m a lucky man knowing that you are all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you breathlessly added. “Please, Ke...”

Peeling off his shirt, Keanu stepped back, and then asked huskily, “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“You…” you sighed, watching as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants along with his boxers down, freeing his hard, pulsing cock. “I need you, Ke. I need you inside me.”

Giving himself a few languid pumps with one hand, Keanu swiftly slid your panties down your legs using the other and tossed it somewhere in the room. Sitting up, your hands gripped the edge of the counter, waiting in anticipation as he guided his tip to your heat. Slowly, he sheathed his cock inside of your pussy, and immediately it stretched to accommodate his girth.

As he bottomed out, you placed delicate kisses down the column of his neck, and he nearly purred at the sensation. No matter how many times you and Keanu made love, he surely could never get enough of you. He would cherish each moment of it, whether it would be rough and fast or sweet and slow. What he most cared about was simply you and making sure you felt loved and adored with every fiber of his being.

You lied back down on the counter as Keanu hovered over you, his hips beginning a delicious rhythm that had you mewling in seconds. He knew the two of you wouldn’t last long, not when this was your first time together in months. Soft grunts filled your ears as he thrust in and out of you, his control gradually slipping the more you whimpered out his name.

“P-Please, Ke,” you begged, digging your fingernails into his back as he lowered his lips to yours. The pleasure was becoming too overwhelming, leaving you unable to form a coherent word, but Keanu knew precisely what you needed.

“I-I’m close, baby,” he warned, his movements faltering as the tightly-wound up coil in his stomach began to unravel much like yours. “Come with me. Go ahead, let go. Let go for me.”

With a shuddering breath, you shook in pure ecstasy while you came around Keanu’s cock. You managed to keep your eyes open long enough to watch him reach his own high, his face contorting with bliss as he released hot spurts of his cum deep inside of you. Satiated, Keanu slumped forward, carefully not to crush you as you both tried to regain your senses.

After some time had passed, he gently withdrew his softening cock from you before grabbing paper towels to clean yourselves up. Keanu then helped you hop down from the counter, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a passionate kiss once your feet touched the tile floors. You only broke away when the oven timer suddenly dinged behind him, reminding you of the dinner you were prepping before his arrival.

“Chicken’s ready,” you mumbled against his lips. “Are you still hungry?”

“Starving,” Keanu laughed before reaching down and retrieving your discarded red dress from the ground. “You should probably hang this up for later.”

“Later?” Your brows rose in curiosity. “You want me to wear it again later?”

“Yes,” he stated, dipping down to kiss you breathlessly again. “You did promise me a private show, and I want to see you dance with this on again.”

“What if I danced with nothing on?” You proposed with a teasing tone. “How would you like that instead?”

Nodding, Keanu’s lips curved upwards, already feeling himself harden by the mere thought of it. “I’m really glad to be back home.”

“Me too,” you agreed before stepping in to close the distance, your lips connecting one more time.

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @lussdew

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #my fics #reader insert #rpf #request

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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years

Text

together | ho x fem!reader

@allegra-soleil asked: Chérie, ma belle, that last blurb BROKE ME. Can I have something similar but with Haz? Cuz we both know he is more hot tempered, and would probably make things worse before making them better, yelling and crying later when he realizes he really fucked up💔 Maybe he was the jealous one? Feeling left out by your sudden friendship with Tom? Mercy, baba. Je t'adore💖💖💖

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST including language/swearing, harsh arguments, screaming, cries, insecurities, anxiety, lots of emotions tbh BUT FLUFF at the end because we want happy endings in this house, dammit!

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: ALLIE. MY GORGEOUS ALLIE 💞 your request turned into an oneshot because, well, inspiration i guess? 😂🙄🙊 so this one is for you bae, an angsty as hell but with that fluffy ending we all want 🥰🥰🥰 love you girl and as always, stay safe sweetheart 💖💗

‘Stay safe, Cheer up’ blurb event

masterlist | taglist | your support

Despite whatever people say, no human on Earth could escape the reality of how feelings work. No human was perfect, that was for sure. Not even Harrison. And now, the boy was massively experiencing jealousy at its best. Or maybe at its worse.

Which actually lead to now, when you tried to catch up your blond boyfriend as he stomped towards his bedroom, at Tom’s house.

“What was that just now?” you yelped as you were now both in the bedroom, Harrison facing away from you and not a single word addressed since what happened just before.

“What?” Harrison said with a harsh tone.

“The way you just addressed both Tom and I a minute ago, acting like a complete douchebag. Care to explain?” you asked again, slight irritation now audible in your voice.

“Oh sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your private time with Tom!” scoffed Harrison while turning towards you, and your eyes widened at what you were looking at.

The face of your boyfriend displayed a look of mixed emotions you never knew was possible; anger, disgust, sarcasm and pure jealousy. His whole body screamed tension but the worst part must have been his voice, each word accentuated by the fakest playful tone of all time.

And that vision was almost scaring you.

“What are you saying, Haz?” you demanded with clear and proper authority, the need to know what was going on in your boyfriend’s mind being your main goal at the moment.

“What am I saying, you’re asking!?” Harrison sneered at you, “I’m just noticing that my own girlfriend looks like she’s having the blast of her life with my freaking best friend ever since we started the quarantine, is what I’m saying!”

Harrison’s voice got louder as the sentence kept going, each word heavy enough to weight more and more upon yourself.

“Are you joking right now?”

Now you were expecting anything, but that.

“I’m just by myself mostly all the fucking time like I don’t even exist in this house! But don’t mind me, really, it’s not like I’m your damn boyfriend in the story! So don’t waste your precious time with somebody like me and just go back to your dear Tommy to laugh and be lovey-dovey like two stupid kids!!”

“Are you out of your mind or what?!” you retorted before Harrison had the chance to continue, your ears still not believing what you just heard.

“If you wanted to go out with Tom Holland himself, you should have said no to me in the first place, instead of using me all this time to get closer to him-”

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Harrison?!” you shot, you voice getting as loud as Harrison’s one.

The back and forth argument kept getting worse, you two now becoming entire messes as both your faces were reddening at the same time your words got louder.

The scene definitely drew the attention of the other residents of the house, the first one being Tuwaine as the man was passing by and just stopped at the doorframe, not believing what was actually happening. Soon Harry followed, the screams loud enough to wake up the deaths or the neighbours next door, or even the entire neighbourhood.

“Oi guys, what’s up in there?”

And obviously, the next and last person to arrive was Tom.

“Why the fuck are you all screami-”

Just then, you simply exploded like a grenade that waited and took too much already on yourself. Your voice was screaming of anger now, but also distress and sadness, the rage definitely showing now from head to toes that you shocked all four boys, Harrison included.

“FUCK YOU HARRISON! JUST- FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING DAMN ATTITUDE!” you raged and kept going in one breath, “I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I DID TO DESERVE BEING TREATED LIKE A- LIKE A TOTAL SLUT BUT IF Y-YOU CAN’T TRUST ME ENOUGH OR EVEN BELIEVE IN THE LOVE I FEEL TOWARDS YOU, I-I JUST- AT LEAST FREAKING TALK TO ME BEFORE ACTING LIKE A FUCKING TOSSER Y-YOU DAMN BASTARD!!!”

That was it. You lost it, all your usual nice and sweet composure just vanished in a snap. But you felt hurt, badly hurt like you never once thought you would be that your feelings just washed over you that you had to scream as loud as possible.

You never had that kind of harsh arguments with Harrison, even knowing the boy was sometimes short tempered but right now, everything he said to you still resonated in your head. Every words. All of them. Even the degrading ones. Each of them were said with pure and bad jealousy, something you couldn’t imagine coming from Harrison.

In the end, even him was capable of hurting people.

Your face was now a red mess, your entire body tensed but at the same time shaking, and your eyes full or tears that soon started rolling down your cheeks when you finished screaming to his face.

Then a cold, tensed and awkward silence settled in the room. No one dared to say a word. And after a loud sob escaped your lips, you ran outside the room, not even glancing once more at the blond guy in front of you, nor at the other boys as you made your way past them. Your cries echoed in the hallway as you then barged inside the “office” room, slamming the door behind you with such violence it made everyone jump, locking it right after. Finally alone in your own despair, you slid your back down the door and sat against it, the back of your head slightly bumping onto the wooden door as you now let out your sobs openly.

“The actual fuck was that just now?!” Harry finally dared to speak, snapping out after what he just saw and heard. “Did you literally accused (Y/N) of cheating on you?!”

“Were you out of your mind to be rude to her like that?!” Tuwaine added, dumbfounded by all the argument.

Harrison was not moving, not a single inch. He was like petrified on the spot, now standing alone in his bedroom as his friends were still staying outside of it. But compared to a few minutes ago, his face now lost all colour, being as pale as if he saw a ghost.

He was completely shocked at himself.

“Mate” Tom addressed his friend, the tone of his voice calm even after being badmouthed by his own best friend, the one who just stood there like a lonely and wandering soul.

Not really expecting an answer from Harrison, Tom slowly walked inside the room, to then stand in front of his blond friend.

“That’s totally normal to get jealous, you know?” Tom began in his most understanding and serious voice, “But jeez, (Y/N) is like a sister to me! Never would I see her more than that!”

Tom’s words were making their way though Harrison’s brain, but the lack of reaction from him was getting really worrying.

“But mostly, I’d NEVER betray my best friend! Never, you hear me Harrison?” Tom insisted firmly. “And just now, you completely misunderstood everything and hurt (Y/N). And yourself.”

And at that moment, Harrison felt like the entire universe fell on top of his head. For good. He finally realised he badly fucked up.

* * * *

It’s been four days since the argument. The four longest and tougher days of Harrison’s life.

Since then, you’ve closed yourself into the office room, not wanting to be near or see your boyfriend after everything he said to you. You ate there, slept there and cried there. You just locked yourself in, as if wishing for everyone to forget you were even there. But that was impossible for Harrison.

When Tom somehow brought back his friend to himself, after being completely out of his mind like he never did, Harrison panicked and just wanted to rush back to you. Tom, Harry and (mostly) Tuwaine could hold him back, even when he started screaming your name for you to forgive him, pure agony in both his voice and written on his face.

After, Harrison was like an undead. His usual shining blue eyes were no more, but replaced by empty one, completely dull and lost into nothingness. His body was even too heavy for him to stand properly, as if everything he told you came back to him to just put the blame on him and only him, the guilt heavier like an entire building. He even lost his appetite and his sleep, not finding any purpose to any matter while being away from you after what he did. What he made you endure.

You didn’t want to see him anymore, and just kept ignoring him while he stood on the other side of the door for hours, pleading for you to open and talk about it together. Nothing. You never replied. If you ever needed something, you would simply ask to Tom, Harry or Tuwaine by text. But never Harrison. Never. And Tom would have to drag his friend away from the door as he would just start crying, desperately trying to open it or even bang his forehead on it on total despair.

That situation weighted on everybody else, too. The once joyful house became a pure living hell of agony, the air thick with tension all around. Being under lockdown for so long was already a pain in general, so nobody needed that kind of additional stress to make it worse.

It had to stop, but not any which way.

On the sixth day, Tom was cooking some lunch while Harry and Tuwaine were in the backyard, enjoying the beautiful weather that London was offering them. And Harrison was at the exact same spot he occupied since the incident, slumped onto the couch, head thrown on the back to fix the ceiling for hours.

“Hey, Harrison.”

The blond lightly glanced at Tom, his body not moving, as the brunette stood next to the couch with a tray in his hands.

“Do you want to bring this to (Y/N)?” asked Tom to his friend.

Harrison’s head slowly turned towards him at the sound of your name.

“She doesn’t want to see me anymore” whispered Harrison almost inaudibly, his eyes red and puffy after so many sleepless nights spent with cries.

“If you just force yourself into her like you did the past days, like a mad man, for sure she’ll just keep ignoring you...” sighed Tom, trying not to sound so done with his friend during that tough path he was going through. “Man up, be yourself and go.”

Still hesitant, Harrison looked between Tom and the tray in his hands a few times, before slowly sitting down properly on the couch. Tom nodded at him to encourage him a bit and after what seemed like the biggest effort of his life, Harrison finally stood on his own two feet, now facing Tom.

“Come on and make up properly, idiot” ironically chuckled Tom, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

He held once again the tray out for Harrison to take, insisting. Gulping, the blond boy lifted his arms to soon grab the tray, hands still slightly trembling. Tom waited for his friend to calm down, knowing perfectly his mind was just a complete mess at the moment as so many scenarios of what was about to happen kept playing on and on, each of them at the same time.

Once he emptied his mind from the negativity invading him, Harrison took a deep breath in before holding the tray properly by himself. Tom gently patted his shoulder, another supporting move of his and moved aside to let his friend walk past him.

His steps were as light as a feather, not wanting to make too much noise on his way to the office room. Harrison’s heart was beating like crazy, each beat almost wanting to break through his ribs, the pain almost unbearable.

But there was no coming back. Not anymore. Harrison was so scared to mess everything up again, like he did when he started an argument that was not even supposed to exist. But he brought it up, like the dumbass he was sometimes. And now, he had to made up for all the abominations he said to you. So yes, Harrison was scared and even worse... he was scared to loose you.

Without realising it, the blond boy was now standing in front of the wooden door. That door that could be the epitome of your heart right now, completely closed and unknown to him, acting like a barrier to protect you from more sadness you may not be able to handle anymore. But Harrison had to make the first step to you because he was the one who caused all this.

He had to fix his mistakes, once for all and good.

“... (Y/N)?” the boy called in what sounded more like a whisper.

He clicked his tongue, sure you didn’t even hear him. After glancing at the living room and noticing Tom had left to join the boys outside, Harrison cleared his voice and tried again.

“(Y/N)... It’s... it’s me.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, you were curled up onto the couch that became your bed for almost a week. Your lack of sleep was beyond your own understanding, as not even a single one of your college projects managed to keep you awake at night. Your body has been aching and heavy, the simple fact of rolling over being painful to you. And the painkillers did nothing to your constant headaches that kept coming and going whenever they wanted. You were sad, hurt and now tired.

But out of nowhere, you caught a faint voice coming from the door. At first you were not really sure as your mind was rambling all over the place, but then you heard it again, and a bit clearer. That familiar voice you knew too well, that particular one you were trying to avoid at all cost since the argument.

Harrison.

Hearing it now awakened all your senses again, against your own will but you preferred to stay quiet, bringing your knees closer to your chest and hoping he would just go away.

“Please, (Y/N)... I-I’ve brought your lunch...”

You gulped, hiding your face into your knees. His once energetic voice was no more, sounding now more morose and... hurt. And somehow, it still saddened you a bit. The silence invaded the place again. Now you felt torn between two rather difficult choices: still ignoring him because the hurtful words he screamed at you that day were the cause of your sleepless nights, or... maybe confront him and see how it goes. Maybe.

“Fuck, what did I expect really... Of course you’re still angry at me, and you have all the rights to be” Harrison murmured along with a sigh.

Lowering his head, Harrison’s eyes fell on the lunch tray Tom kindly prepared to you and mindlessly inspected it. The smell was mouthwatering and the steak sure looked delicious, but Harrison couldn’t help but note you always liked your meat less cooked and with a lot of oregano. And regarding the sides, the boy was pretty sure you would leave the cucumber slices of the salad, as you liked more carrots instead.

All these little things, even the most insignificant ones, were part of your being. And Harrison learnt to know all of them by heart, and to cherish them. And so did you, ever since you started dating. The specific tea he loved to drink depending on how he was feeling, the vegetables he couldn’t look at - even after you desperately tried to cook them in many different ways -, what to do when he was feeling tired and grumpy, the movie he could binge-watch all the time, and so on...

Harrison loved you as much as you loved him.

And he had to fucked this up like a bastard to finally realise he just imagined the stupidest things ever, and hurt you in the end.

“... I’m the fuckin’ worst.”

As any chance of this door opening vanished into thin air, Harrison loudly sighed, badly depressed but still trying his best to contain his tears a bit more, and put the lunch tray down at the door to then walked away.

But after only taking two steps, two click sounds suddenly reached his ears which made him stop on his track, turning quite fast towards the door to see it... slightly opening. And that was when Harrison caught sight of you and his body froze, eyes wide open.

Through the half-open door, you were there, your entire frame partially visible but still. He was finally able to see you and notice how fragile you looked. Facial features slimmed down, dark circles and red eyes. You were a mess, just like Harrison was during the past few days. After what seems like hours of total silence, both your eyes finally met, hesitant at first but then, you slowly opened the bedroom door a bit more. The heart of Harrison started beating all over again, his lungs working fully as if he learnt once more how to breath.

“... Harrison.”

Oh, your voice. Hearing it after so long brought shivers down his spine.

“(Y-Y/N)... I-”

But words got suddenly mixed up in his mind as Harrison wanted to tell you so many things at the same time. How much he was sorry, how much of an idiot he was, how much he regretted, how much... he missed you. So much. But then, he remembered Tom’s advices.

“If you just force yourself into her... like a mad man... she’ll just keep ignoring you...”

Harrison had to think calmly, but most importantly wisely. So he decided to stay quiet waiting for you to speak first, if you ever did.

You’ve never seen Harrison this tense like he actually was. Never this... all over the place. Hair sticking in every directions, his stubble more visible than ever and baggy clothes. Well, you were pretty much the same anyway. But what saddened you more was the look in his eyes. His ocean eyes you loved getting lost into turned into two empty orbs, dull, deprived of any joy but tears, now.

“... We need to talk” you muttered in a low tone, your hand grabbing the door harder to get you some extra support, you hoped.

As you slowly lowered your body to take the tray off the floor, Harrison got quicker and grabbed it before you. This brought you two face to face, crouching with only the space of the tray between you, eyes locking for some seconds. No word spoken but only looks, and that was a lot.

You averted your eyes at the same time before getting up again, a bit awkwardly. Harrison followed you inside the office room while you closed the door right after him. Not paying too much attention at the mess around, he went to place the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch and stood there, not knowing what to do or if he could talk. Silently, you advanced to then sit on the said couch, pushing away the blankets and pillows you used to sleep on the side. You patted a few time the space next to you while looking at Harrison or, at least, trying to draw his attention as the boy was looking anywhere but at you, fidgeting with his fingers like a child who just did something stupid.

Well, maybe that was the case, actually.

Finally, Harrison heard the muffled sound of your hand against the couch and, after looking at you like he wanted your approval, slowly but surely walked and sat next to you. He brushed his thighs a few times, feeling his muscles stiff but still trembling. His heartbeat kept pounding on inside his chest, one foot slightly tapping in rhythm on the carpet. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to remain calm. But Harrison knew he had to speak first. After all, everything was his own fault.

“(Y/N), listen I’m-”

“I’m sorry...”

Harrison stopped and looked at you, mouth still open as he was not sure if he heard right. Now frowning, he noticed your head dropped as you were desperately fixing your knees, the grips of your hands on your sweatpants making your knuckles slightly turn white.

“I’m sorry, Harrison” you repeated once again, your voice trembling and just above a whisper. “I-I shouldn’t have insulting you l-like I did. You deserved it b-but I said such horrible things to you, instead of talking about it with you... I-I’m an idiot, I should have-”

“W-Wait (Y/N), what are you saying? I’m the one who has to apologise to you, not the other way around!” retorted Harrison, quite shocked and confused by your words.

“But I just got things worse, Harrison! A-And in the end, we were just screaming at each other a-and I-I-”

Your body started shaking again, your throat tightening as more words wanted to go out, soon followed by sobs. Your breathing became halting and tears were forming at the outside corners of your eyes, you couldn’t stop any of this as guilt kept growing inside of you during these days.

Harrison couldn’t handle seeing you like this anymore, nor hearing accusing yourself for what happened to you both. That was impossible, and it had to make it stop. He had to make you understand that any of this was not your fault. He had to comfort you as much as you needed to be.

So the boy slid from the couch, both knees on the carpet as he was now facing you. He pressed his torso against your knees, trying to be as close as possible to you, and put his hands on your thighs. The touch brought you out of your inner upheaval and your teary eyes met again.

“Listen, (Y/N)” began Harrison, gulping, “I’m the one who started all this mess whereas nothing of this would have happened, okay? I-I’m the stupid one here, the selfish one, the... jealous one who imagined horrible things because I got... I got insecure and lonely. I shut myself away enough to awaken the worst side in me. And like a complete asshole I accused you of... of cheating on me. You, the person I love the most and that loves me so much in return. The person I trust with all my heart. I just- I fucked up so bad a-and-”

Harrison didn’t notice the tears already rolling down his cheeks until now.

“I-I’m just the worst boyfriend- no, the worst human being ever-”

But then, your trembling but soft hands gently raised to wipe his wet cheeks with your thumbs making him stop spouting any more gibberish about himself. And it was like your touch instantly appeased him, like the best medicine that could exist and just closed his eyes, his breathing slowly calming down.

By instinct, his bigger hands raised to gently rest on top of yours and just leaned his face on your palms, appreciating the skin contact he missed since then. God did he miss your touch.

You both sniffled, forehead resting against each other as you leaned more towards the blond boy. The tears kept going for some time actually, neither of you really knowing for how long. But that was needed.

After some time spent in a rather calm silence, you parted from each other and you gently brushed your boyfriend’s wet cheeks with your thumbs again, a comforting smile now on your face.

“I think... we both messed up” you gently whispered.

A light smile appeared on Harrison’s face, the left corner slightly raising more like it always did when he was getting shy or embarrassed... or comforted.

“We did” replied the blond, a soft chuckle barely audible, “... well, mostly me.”

“Never hesitate to talk to me, alright Harrison?” you stated quite seriously but still with that kind tone of yours your boyfriend loved so much. “Even for stupid matters, I don’t care, just let’s talk about it. Promise?”

“I promise, love.”

You shared another smile, rosy cheeks and eyes still shining with the last few tears. But now, the atmosphere felt way lighter as any ounce of negativity washed away around you both. You kept the eye contact and your hands connected, a way to slowly treat that deep link between you both.

Then you gently brought Harrison’s face closer to you and left a light kiss on his forehead, the kiss lasting for a few seconds but Harrison made the most of it, his eyes closing again which let the last tears roll on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, love” Harrison whispered like he was in trance.

“I know, dear. I know. But we will go through it. Together.”

🏷 Permanent tag list & mutuals 💖 (get notified)

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constilationn · 4 years

Text

Fire and Rain || Part 4

A/N: part four!! I had so much fun wiring this because its chock full of sarcasm. As always, I'd love comments or feedback or whatever - don't be shy!!

Rating: T

Warning:; Bad words

Summary: The landing was disastrous and the sarcasm between you and Poe rises

Part 3 🔥

You could smell the smoke before you opened your eyes, felt the heat of fire on your skin as you eyelids fluttered open. You groaned, head pounding as the scene around you came slowly into focus. Dazed with pain, the entire planet seemingly spinning, you forced yourself to sit up. You clamped your teeth together, vomit rising steadily in your throat, and swallowed thickly.

The ship was ablaze.

Rings of smoke curled towards the inky sky, flames touching the tips of the stars. Your hands grabbed at the sand underneath you and you clawed yourself away from the explosion, breath shaking with every move. Your body was on fire, every single cell in your body aching and burning as you forced yourself to your feet. You couldn’t tell where you’d landed or what system you were in, let alone the planet you were on. The fire crackled, orange embers licking the ship as you scanned the crash for anything you could use. Poe must’ve pulled off the best emergency landing for you to be alive—

Poe.

Your heart skipped a beat, and another as panic exploded across your mind. There was no way he survived if he was still in that ship. Judging from the charred remains that you could see, the ship had been on fire for at least an two hours and you’d been unconscious for the entirety of that time. Your mind reeled, tears of desperate hope springing to your eyes. Maybe he’d been thrown from the crash, maybe he’d cleared it once the ship was on the ground. There were a million possibilities yet the only one you could think of was Poe dead inside the fire.

“Poe?” His name left your lips in a broken beg, your voice hoarse. “Poe?” You struggled across the sand back towards the flames, desperation overtaking all sense of sanity and reason.

The sand around the ship was hot, burning to touch and you fought to stay on your feet. There was no logical way you could see into the flames, there was. O way you could get into the ship at all but Poe had to be somewhere. He had to tap you on the shoulder and give you that stupid smirk just one more time. He had to make you laugh with more stupid jokes, he had to be there. Cheeks wet and stained with tears, you listened for any sign of life, any sign of him. Instead, the ship creaked and the flames spat and the force of another blast knocked you clean off your feet and sent you flying back into the sand as the ship finally exploded.

“POE!” Your scream ricocheted across the desert as a sob tore through your body. “Poe.”

🔥

When you heard your name on his lips, you thought you were dreaming.

It was soft at first, so soft that you almost didn’t hear him. It was only when his voice grew louder and he shook your shoulders that your eyes flew open and you jumped up and into his arms.

“Poe!” You clung onto his shoulders as he laughed into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around you. “What happened? I though you were dead.”

“I got thrown from the crash.” You shoulders heaved in relief and you grinned. You stepped back, trying to calm your racing heart as he grinned at you. “You were worried about me?”

You shoved him so hard that he fell back into the sand, fury dancing in your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Sweetheart,” he dusted himself off, catching up to you easily as you stormed across the sand. “He caught you arm, his touch making your breath hitch and you gasped softly, “What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t explain it. You didn’t know why you’d been so panicked. Yes, he was your friend, your colleague, but the feeling that had bloomed in your chest when you thought he was dead wasn’t something you could put into words. Even if you could, it wouldn’t matter. Poe had a rotating door when it came to the girls at the base and you were damned if you were going to be just another conquest for him. Besides, you’d told him not to take the ship without at least letting you look at it and if he hadn’t needed to jump in and be the hero so quickly, you wouldn’t be stranded in the middle of a desert.

“I told you we couldn’t take this ship,” you said finally, stopping to glare at Poe. “I told you it wouldn’t work but you had to jump in, just like always.”

He gave an indignant frown, “What?”

“I’m serious! You never think things through, your answer to eveything is get in that stupid X-wing and blow shit up!” You turned, defiantly meeting his eyes.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that! How many times have I had to fix your ship after you’ve done something insanely stupid?” You crossed your arms, letting him think before he shook his head.

“That’s not the point-“

You scoffed, cutting him off. “Not the point? That’s exactly the point! You never think and if you had just listened to me—“

“Listen to you?” You raised an eyebrow as Poe’s eyes darkened with anger. “Why would I listen to you? You’ve been off the base twice, both times with me and—“

“This isn’t about my life experience, Poe!” You shouted over him, “This is about you, not knowing when to fucking quit or just listen to something that isn’t your inner monologue.”

Poe nodded, pressing his lips together, “You think I’ve got an inner monologue—“

“I know you do.”

“Wow,” he scoffed, “you cant even let me finish a sentence because you know I’ll bring up a valid point and destroy your whole fucking argument.”

“It isn’t an argument if I’m pointing out facts.” You replied, fixing him with the sarcastic smile you knew he hated.

“That’s the definition of an argument!”

“Oh, so now you know about definitions?”

Poe sighed, running a hand through his curls and looked you up and down, “Okay, let’s just table this for now and...” his voice faded as you swayed a little on your feet, your head spinning ever so slightly. “Sweetheart,” he took a step forward, running his fingertips gently along your abdomen, “what happened? You’re bleeding.”

“I...” the corner of your vision was darkening quicker than you liked and Poe’s face was shifting in and out of focus. Your knees buckled and you fell forward into Poe as he caught you with a soft grunt. “Poe...” you whispered, eyelids fluttering closed as crimson bloomed across your shirt.

“Sweetheart?” You let your eyes finally close, holding on to the sound of his voice until it was the last thing to fade away and you plunged into an inky blackness, dreaming of the flame touched stars.

#star wars #Star Wars Fic #star wars imagine #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron angst #poe dameron fanfiction #the last jedi #The Force Awakens #the rise of skywalker #Fic #fanfic #series #fire and rain

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bakugoubabygirl · 4 years

Text

All might daughter part 6 Today was the day of the festival. This was my chance to prove not only to the world but to myself that I am a hero.

I went down stairs getting ready to go . I wanted to get there extra early. Then my dad stopped me.

" Y/n, everyone will be looking at you. Even know I want Izuku to win. You will always come first and I know you can take first place." He said smiling.

" thank you dad, for everything" I said

"Now go kick some ass" he shouted. I laugh and then headed out the door.

I walk outside my gate with my body guard not to far behind me . I see todoroki standing there.

" hey todo" I waved.

"Y/n I wanted to wish you luck . I hope you finish in second place" he smiled .

" Thanks but I'll be finishing in first" I said. Making eye contact with him.

" I'm going to be bringing my all"

" so will I" I said . Walking a little faster but he kept up.

We were by the lockers room he stoped me before I went in. He gave me a small box. I open it to

See a a heart shaped pendant. It had some crystal in the middle , with a glow to it. The sliver looked real and it was very beautiful.

" It's for good luck and thank you for being my friend. I didn't have any before you because I'm not good at talking to people. Talking to though, seems so easy" he said .

" It's beautiful todo . You didn't have to do this. Being your friend is enough. I love talking to you to"

I hand him the necklace and I turn around . He put the necklace on me and his fingers made me shiver. I turn around to find my self inches apart from him.

I found my self starting to lean in. He felt so warm. he smell like the cold artic wind and a campfire all at once. He close his eyes and moved his hands on to my waist.

We broke apart akwardly when we heard Bakugou lound ass.

" What the fuck is this" he fumed. Look at me and todoroki. I could feel my face getting red. Were me and todoroki about to kiss. I wouldn't mind if we did now that I think about it. Maybe I read it wrong . I cant think about this right now .

" I don't know but I have to go get ready" I said not making eye contact with either of them.

Bakugou Pov

They were so fucking close to kissing it was disgusting. I'm going to kill that icy hot and then I'm going to get the girl. I storm into the locker room and found that half bastard. "Stay the fuck away from her" I screamed. I didn't give a fuck that I was causing a scene. She was mine and mine alone. I actual was going to give her before I saw them two .

" Its not up to you or me. Its up to her and after this over I'm asking her out" He said calmly . " That necklace she has on its from me. I'm rich and I'm powerful. Most importantly I'm kind to her. Your unstable and abusive you don't deserve her. "

My blood was boiling. who does he think he is. I'm more powerful and she doesn't need his money. I'm not weak like him. FUCK HIM. I blast at him and it scratch the tip of his ear. " I will be her choice in the end and next time I wont miss"

I got outside there was kids from every class . I found y/n chatting excitedly with momo. She had his necklace around her neck . I'm not sure how I didn't notice it before but I don't like it.

Your POV

The first event was nearly a 4km race around the stadium . I started running not daring to look behind me . I was greeted with a big robot todo froze it off balance. that's smart actually. he pass through and it almost falls on two students. I teleport it to somewhere else for a split second and then I pass through. I teleported the robot in front of the kids behind me blocking there path.

Izuku and Bakagou was right behind me and todoroki was in front. The next part of the obstacle was a canyon that had be trekked using ropes. Bakugou blast through ahead of todo and then I teleported to the other side.

next was the land mine me and Bakugou were blasting our way through the obstacle I pass shouto and I was neck and neck with Bakugou. Next thing I new Izuku came flying through on a broken piece of the robot. Taking first place and the race

" stupid deku" Bakuguo yelled. Izuku was in the lead I'm honestly so happy for him right now. we finished I was in third. Izuku finished first.

"Good job izuku I knew you could do it" I ran up to him and gave him a hug .

"Thank you Y/n " next thing I knew Uraraka push me out of the way. She wrapped her arms around him tight. There sooo cute and they way his face turns bright red.

Midnight announces next there will be a Calvary battle. She stated that the top 42 students were to advance to the second round. In this event there will be teams of 2-4 . players can earn points by grabbing head bands.

" The worth of the head band of the player will depend on what they place in the last round. Except for first place there head band is worth 10 million points ." Midnight said.

I saw izuku face froze in horror . I starting walking up to him until an ash brown stopped me. " Your on my team don't you even think about it" Bakugou grabbed my shoulders.

" Cant izuku join our team" I asked. He was like my little brother and I felt like it was my responsibility to watch out for him.

" No way in hell" He such an ass wipe sometimes. Instead mineta and Eijiro join our team.

The battle started Bakugou started heading after Izuku and we followed. Then his handband got stolen by neito.

" It must be sad to be the villain victim every year" Neito says. Oh shit bakugou was about to throw a fit.

" Plans have been change were fighting neito first" He yelled enraged.

Wanting to defeat Team Monoma completely, Katsuki orders his team to attack; having Hanta use his tape and Mina using her dissolving fluid. Team Bakugo rides on Mina's fluid using Hanta's tape to reel them faster, catching Team Monoma off guard. Katsuki and Neito clash but Katsuki's ambition to become number one gives him the strength to defeat Neito and takes the rest of his headbands. Katsuki immediately decides to go after Izuku and Shoto.

It was the last minutes of the battle I didn't feel like I was doing much except for levitating bakugou up. Team Midoriya and Team Todoroki have a final clash. Izuku uses One For All to create wind pressure which knocks away Shoto's blazing left arm. Shoto is shocked when he realizes he is using his fire power. Izuku grabs a headband thinking that it is the 10 million point headband and takes it from the shocked Shoto. After putting some distance between them, Izuku checks the headband but is surprised that it's a seventy-point headband. For the last ten seconds, Team Midoriya and Team Todoroki charge, preparing to clash again as are Team arrives but are too late to join the battle as the Cavalry Battle ends.

Team Todoroki places first, are team places second, Team Shinso places third and Izuku team places fourth. As we were waiting for the tournament to start I went to go look for a snap . I turn a corner to see bakugou trying to concentrate on something.

" Hey what-" I was cut off when he grabbed me and put his hand over my mouth.

"Shhh listen" he whispers. My face redden when I realize I could feel him against me. he push me away abruptly.

" My father strives to be almight and made sure I was even more powerful then him" I heard todoroki explain . More powerful then my dad?

" I understand why you want to win but just know ill be trying my best too" he declared.

" Very well but if you have any connections to the number one hero . Even more reason for more to take you down. Y/n she my friend but she going down too." he said. Damn I didn't know it ran this deep for him. "Speaking of Y/n you two are close right?" he asked

" Umm yes she practically my sister" he said in confusion.

" What are my chances with her, I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend" he said. My heart stopped for a second . I felt my face go red. Yes todoroki your chances are high. I felt a heat next to me Bakugou had two balls of explosions ready to go. His face was kind of unsettling. Why is he so pissed off.

#bakagou x reader #jelouse katsuki #bnha shoto todoroki #midoryia #almight #mhna #smut #fluff #angst #todoroki x reader #baakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #shouto x reader #magma #anime

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bewaretheundead91 · 5 years

Text

A very Eventful Christmas Part 2: Wine and Tiramisu

Summary: You are on your way back to Washington D.C. to spend time with your family for Christmas. On your way you run into a man from your past.

Duncan Shepherd X Reader (Y/N)

A/N: Christmas is around the corner? I’m sorry, due to my job I tend to hear Christmas music earlier than most. So I’ve been inspired to start a Christmas series. Subject to be edited and changed.

Warnings: (none) a slow burn, inspired by cheesy Christmas rom com tropes...a lot of rom com tropes/clichés here...and plot.

Part 1

“Chicago to D.C. is ready for boarding,” A woman calls from over an intercom. “All heading to D.C. from Chicago may board the train now. The train will be departing in 30 minutes.”

After taking a glance up at the wide eye and smiling train attendant, you drop your eyes back down to the phone in hand, still angrily texting Erica, your cousin, about the free coffee you had taken from Duncan Shepherd. If only you were the girl you were 5 years ago, that made men cry when you had the chance. The girl that was brave and said what was on her mind. Fast forward to the present and your raging fire has transitioned into a timid candle flame. Chicago was too cold most days for a social life.

And he remembered my coffee order, you type out, misspelling the word remember a few times, out of typing too fast, my damn coffee order and he thought he could just talk to me. I was trying to hide from the guy and it was obvious. The audacity of it all, Erica responds ending with a eye rolling emoji, Did he say where he was traveling to? You look around your surroundings, there is no gray coat wearing man with soft wavy locks and a scruffy beard. You sigh. He didn’t say anything and of course I was not going to ask you text then shove your phone into the pocket of your coat. You stand up and walk to your train car. Your fingers grasp the ticket and you pull it out so that attendant can scan it.

“Good evening,” The smiley attendant greets. Her makeup is on point and her hair is perfect. “You’re seat is actually not too far from here, just a few rows down and on your left.”

“Thank you.” You reply stepping onto the train and instantly hit the heat on blast from inside of the cart.

You look down at your carry on bag to make sure it was still zipped and continue deeper into the train cart. Quickly you find your seat near a large window with a collapsable trey large enough to fit your computer. The seat looks comfortable enough for the multiple hour travel, being cushioned. You secretly hope that no one has the seat beside you. You sit down and make yourself comfortable. There was an urge to turn your phone off during the ride, but you couldn’t commit to that or the potential pile up of voice mails and missed calls from your editor or family.

“Estimated arrival time to Washington D.C. is…” You block out the rest of the dialogue and glance around the exterior of the train. People were still running to board the train, family and a cute couple walking hand and hand closely. You roll your eyes at the romantic scene before you. Young love around the holidays, good for you guys, I’m sure something will mess it all up, you thought to yourself and cross your arms over your chest, wow that was vile thought. I take it back, all of it.

Your mind wanders to what going back home would be like, your younger sister planning a wedding to be married to a young entrepreneur for a the latest electronic selling out off the shelves. Your mother being delighted to see the couple together and then nagging about how you have been single for years now since you left the D.C. area. That dreaded city, she would say you think to yourself, full of dreadful people, just like your late grandfather. Dreadful people you should even think about dating let along marrying. Washington D.C. has many eligible men for marriage.

The train had been making its way for a few hours and you start falling asleep with the ambiance of the train car along with the subtle hum of the train. Your face falls flat against the window and mashes against the glass, you were tired and finally you have a space to sleep. Your mind drifts off to the couple you earlier, than to a series of different romantic Christmas comedy movies where young people fall in love and then to the cheesy cookie cutter, over formulaic movies you also equally love that would marathoned on cable. The movies where most of the main characters fall in love by Christmas.

The thoughts transition and you find yourself sitting on a couch sipping hot cocoa wearing a matching flannel pajama set. A series of knocks come at the door near you along with soft singing voices. You get up and answer the door to a group of Christmas carolers singling the chorus of All I Want For Christmas is You. Feeling a cool breeze, you wrap arms around your body and listen to the carolers with am excited smile. The group of singers, break apart a low voice starts to sing along with them. Your eyes meet the bright blue eyes of Duncan Shepherd who was wearing a red sweater with a large fuzzy Christmas tree on it and a big red Santa hat. He looks up at you lovingly holding a poster with large letters that wrote out “To me you are beautiful”…he flips the poster to reveal another one, “Than all the diamonds I could buy, than anything I could ever buy”…he places the poster behind another,“You are priceless, and I love you”. The heart in your chest begins to pound and you feel your face blush.

“Excuse me, Miss,” You hear a voice over the the carolers and Duncan. The carolers do not stop. You look up at the ceiling of the room you were in and frown in confusion. “Miss, I’m sorry to bother you.”

A hand touches your shoulder and you jump in your seat, colliding with the collapsable table. Before you can prevent yourself, you fall back and hit the window, face first clumsily. Finally your eyes open to see a train attendant holding a trey with a glass of red wine.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” She beams. It was the attendant from earlier. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head hard?”

“I’m fine, but I didn’t order that,” You say sitting up in the seat. You rake your fingers through your hair smoothing the strands out and pat your cheek that made contact with the window. You look over to the glass and see a faint makeup print. “I’m sorry you have the wrong person.”

“The gentlemen in the gray coat sent it over,” She says with a smile. “He thought you might enjoy a nice red blend while you look out the window. He’s so charming.”

“Excuse me what?” You ask tilting your head in confusion.

“The gentlemen a few rows down.” She points out down the isle.

You sit up a bit more and straighten your back to gain height. You look down the isle to see Duncan Shepherd speaking to another train attendant who was handing him a glass full of a brown liquid. A frown scrunches across your face and you slowly slump back down in your seat, fixing your coat.

“Whiskey,” You snarl, looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t take this.”

“You would prefer whiskey?” The attendant asks.

“No,” You say wide eye tilting your head even more. “Just please take this back, I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I don’t take drinks from strange men…I mean strangers.”

“But he made it clear that you two knew each other.” She nods.

“Miss,” You look at the name tag on her blue blazer. “Ms. Jessica, he might think he knows me, but I don’t know him. So please just take this back or give it to him. Or how about have a glass of wine on him.”

“Oh,” She nods. “I see.”

“No,” You shake your head. “Whatever you are thinking…he’s an acquaintance and I’m not really in the mood.”

The attendant walks away with the glass of wine and you peek behind the seat in front of you to witness his reaction. The attendant, Jessica, approaches Duncan and shows him the trey with the glass of wine. Duncan was resting his head on his hand casually staring down at his glass of whiskey.

“Mr. Shepherd,” Jessica’s voice changes, it goes lower in pitch, like she is attempting to be seductive. You scrunch your nose. “She does not want the drink, sir.”

“Oh really?” He posture changes and he turns his head to the side glancing at the seat beside him. His wavy hair bounces and you mash your lips together tightly. “Y/N refusing a red blend?”

“Yes, sir,” Jessica responds with a disappointed look.

Duncan shifts his body so he can turn towards your direction. He quickly turns his head and makes eye contact with you. You duck down behind the seat in front you of you embarrassed, feeling your cheeks burning.

Please don’t come over here, you think to yourself, please do not for the love of God come over here.

“Do you have any desserts?” You over hear him ask Jessica. “If I’m going to drink this wine I need something sweet to eat with it.”

“Would you like a menu?” She asks.

“Is tiramisu available?” He asks.

“I believe it is, sir.”

You pull out your phone and send Erica another text, he just tried to send me a drink on the train. He’s on the train with me.

Jessica shortly walks back down toward your direction, this time she has a trey with the glass of wine and piece of tiramisu. Jessica pulls out your trey and places the drink and dessert in front of you.

“Mr. Shepherd was adamant that you enjoy these treats on behalf of himself,” Jessica says then glares at you. “Just take the damn drink and dessert so I can go back to what I’m supposed to be doing, please. I’ve got three cars on this train that I need to check up on.”

“Just leave it then.” You say with a sympathetic look.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Jessica says. “Try to enjoy them. They are expensive.”

“Of course they are.”

Before you sat a glass of wine from Duncan, another one of your favorites, and a big chunk of tiramisu, also another one of your favorites. The idea of Duncan Shepherd remembering those tiny details about you makes you annoyed. You groan to yourself and an idea pops into your head. To deliver the items back to Duncan yourself and walk away.

You unzip your carry on bag and pull out a compact to check your appearance. Other than your eyes looking tired and your mascara minimal smeared beneath your eyes, you look good for a long train ride. Your hair to your atonement was only mildly messy and starting to look gross. You close the compact and pull out you minty lip balm and coat your lips generously, then grab the drink and plate. Boldly you walk down the isle and approach Duncan’s seat. His head perks up, his piercing eyes meet yours, and a warm smile appears across his full lips. Heat rises up from your chest and to you cheeks.

“Please stop all of this,” You shout, practically throwing the wine and dessert onto his collapsible table. “I know that you think spending money is a personality trait, but it isn’t. If it is, it’s not a great one.”

“Y/N,” He says looking hurt and rubs the tips of his fingers across his lips. You quickly make your way down the isle towards you seat. You hear the squeaking of a chair and boots meet the floor of the train car behind you. A firm hand grabs your bicep. “Is it so wrong that I want to treat an old friend to something sweet?”

“Please, don’t touch me.” You say trying not to gain any attention. Duncan takes a step closer and towers over you. His eyes looking just as tired as yours, sheepish, and looking a bit more scruffier than usual once you get a better look at him. But you admit to yourself that he is still the attractive man that has made many women and men swoon.

“I just thought two of your favorite things could make the trip a bit more comfortable. I did not mean to offend.” His voice was soft, something different from earlier. You look down at his large hand still laced around your arm. He drops it. “Sorry.”

“I’m not offended,” You say taking deep breath. “I’m confused and annoyed. I didn’t expect you to be on this train, but out of course you expected me to be here.”

“I only assumed you were going back to D.C. because of the holidays, where did you assume I’d be off traveling to? Of course I’d want to spend the holidays back at home with my mother.”

“I just didn’t expect you to truly be on a train.” You say licking your lips. You watch as his eye stare down at your mouth.

“We are on a long train ride with nothing to do, perhaps we could talk.” He suggests.

“I was honestly hoping to sleep and relax before having to see my family.” You close your eyes and shake your head. “And I can’t be seen with you. Actually you can’t be seen with me. I don’t want to be affiliated with you.”

“I understand, but tell me,” He begins. “Who’s going to notice? Especially on this train.”

“That’s why I love Chicago, no one really knows me and I want to keep it like that. That is one reason I decided to take a train as well.”

“Is that true?” He laughs. “Do you really not enjoy being the center of attention?”

“Typical Shepherd.” You roll your eyes.

“But also who didn’t enjoy watching you,” He smirks. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You were watching a lot of people.” You say.

“Maybe I was,” He says raising his brows. “But there was one I had a focus on.”

At that moment the train starts to buckle on the tracks, making the individual cars move bumpily around the tracks. Suddenly you lose balance and fall forward colliding with the tall man before you and arms wrap around your body in attempt to soften the impact. Your hands meet the rough fabric of his coat, touching his chest, and you land directly on top of him. A grunt escapes his mouth and you feel his hot breath on your lips. You open your eyes to see your lips mere inches from each other and forehead mere centimeters. His eyes bolt open wide and his lips slightly part. There was whiskey on his breath. His hands slide up your back and you shiver.

“Sorry,” You say attempting to get up, but you fall between his legs in the process and chest meets his harshly. “I’m really sorry, this train, the tracks…”

“Can be bumpy, traveling across the country. It’s okay, are you okay?” He asks sounding genuinely concerned. He sits up onto his backside and runs his finger through his now wild hair. “You didn’t hit your arms or twist an ankle did you?”

“I’m fine,” You say finally getting to your feet. The heat flares in your cheeks again. “I’m the one that fell on you and your arms secured me in place.”

“You’re right,” He laughs. The train car shifts again and you fall forward against Duncan’s chest again. He wraps his arms around you holding you in place. You gaze up at him and shake your head. Honestly the view was not bad from there. Stop it, you internally scold at yourself. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I was on my way to my seat already.” You say pushing him away. He laughs. You adjust you coat.

You walk back to you seat and sit down. To your surprise Duncan did not follow you. He was certainly a charmer for the kind of man that he was.

#duncan shepherd #duncan sheperd x reader

27 notes · View notes

yeetdam · 5 years

Text

stars after the rain ☾ yedam

genre – romance, soulmate au

synopsis – set in a universe where everyone is born with two names tattooed on their skin. one name stands for their soulmate, the other for their potential killer. no one knows which person inked on them is their other half and which is their downfall, but that has never been an issue to you. after all, you were born with just one name. and, well, there’s only one way to interpret that.

wc – 8.3k

a/n – this is a completely self-indulgent fic pls forgive me this mess contains everything i dream of: best friend doyoung antics, slow burn-ish vibes and a cheesy rendition of the slow dance scene on the rooftop from high school musical 3 :’) either way, i hope you’ll enjoy this and pls lmk if there are any mistakes or if u have some feedback uwu

It’s bound to end in a tragedy when Doyoung barges into your room without any warning and sees it for the first time.

“That’s a cool place to have a tattoo,” he admits and points at the back of his neck when you turn to him with an irritated expression. The realization crashes onto you like an atomic bomb the moment you subconsciously mimic his movement and slide your hand up the back of your neck.

“Oh.”

In the blink of an eye, you frantically rummage through your drawers for your foundation. Lately, there’s been many things clouding your mind, be it the many exams you can’t afford to fail or the abnormal number of complaints Hyunsuk has sent you in a span of three hours. It’s not the first time for you to drown in all kinds of duties, but it seems like the pressure has got into your head worse than usual. You never fail to cover the ink on the back of your neck with either turtlenecks or foundation, so it just fuels your frustration when Doyoung sheds light on it.

“Hey, relax! We can join the party a little later, so take your time,” he says and puts a firm hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you. “Uh, do you want me to help? It must be hard blending that in every day.”

You snort. “First of all, I am relaxed. Second of all, I don’t do this every day, but I manage perfectly on my own.”

“Jesus Christ,” Doyoung sighs and retreats his hand, “I was just trying to be the empathetic best friend. But jokes aside, it really is a cool place to have your tattoo. My thigh can’t relate.”

“As much as I love being your best friend and am willing to listen to your problems anytime–” you successfully find the bottle and squirt a generous amount of foundation on the beauty blender, “–even that is too much information for me. What should I know next? Your other tattoo is on your butt?”

There is nothing wrong with covering up the tattoos you are born with. It’s not socially frowned upon if someone doesn’t make any efforts to hide the ink. In the end, it all boils down to your personal preference. You know a handful of people who waltz around with both of their names on display, and you are relatively sure that Doyoung would be one of them if his tattoos were on an appropriate part of his body.

“Haha. Funny,” Doyoung deadpans before he whips out his phone. “I meant what I said, take your time. Plus, I realized I still gotta call someone.”

“Give me five.” You hum and apply the liquid on your skin. He exits your room and makes sure that the door falls softly in its lock to give you a moment of peace. A frown paves its way onto your face as you build up the coverage until there is no trace of black on your neck.

Showing the inked names on your skin and just talking about the concept of soulmates in general isn’t a social taboo. However, there are quite a few people who rather avoid the topic at hand, including you. Truth be told, every cell in your body knows that Doyoung is dying to discuss this topic with you and there are too many moments you recall where he looks as if he’s about to explode if he doesn’t bring up his soulmate. However, he never did that. Doyoung wears his heart on his sleeve and so do you, but here’s the thing: Doyoung is better at swallowing them down.

So as his best friend, the least you can do is go with him to that one goddamn party even though there are other things you’d rather do at this late hour of the day.

(A prime example of what you’d rather do is giving Hyunsuk a piece of your mind because receiving fifty-seven emails about not understanding biology, whining about the new TA and his harsh grading and inquiries about what to get Seunghun for his birthday in the span of three hours is not okay.)

Whenever you go out in public, you are usually seen with a turtleneck or a scarf. Covering up your tattoo with a foundation is your plan c) when desperate times call for desperate measures. Also, there is a reason why you barely go to parties.

Parties fall under desperate times.

Although there isn’t anything in Yeji’s house that is illegal to consume, the living room is sweltering hot, the music obnoxiously loud, and the entire scenario is equivalent to a frat party minus the alcohol, drugs, and making out.

Instead, a dozen bottles of pretty much every soft drink you can find from the convenience store just three blocks away and a broad selection of chips and chocolate and cake are found on the tables.

“Wanna bet that you could never finish cola with salt in one go?” Jaehyuk suggestively raises a brow at Doyoung and holds up the red cup in his hand.

“If I win, you owe me bubble tea for an entire month. Wherever and whenever I want.” You fight the urge to smack yourself as you see the sneaky grin etched on Doyoung’s lips. For a moment, you debate whether to stand up your comfortable position on the couch and knock some sense into him. But then again, you remind yourself why you’re even here in the first place. Though you know most of the people here, you don’t really talk to them. Doyoung was your only friend present.

You’re only here for Doyoung’s sake. You’re going to let him have fun and let him regret his life decisions in the aftermath.

“Aren’t you feeling lonely here?” you divert your eyes from Doyoung to the guy who drops himself on the couch beside you. He’s a new face, you figure, dressed in an unbuttoned, red flannel shirt, a black graphic tee underneath and ripped skinny jeans. Strands of jet black hair fall into his face, but they fail to hide the genuine twinkle in his eyes as the corners of his lips subtly tug upwards.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you mumble and are very glad that you’re no longer focused on Doyoung if you consider the gagging sounds he’s emitting, “I’m not a huge fan of these kinds of occasions.”

“Let me guess,” he muses and takes a sip out of his cup, “That guy forced you here?”

A chuckle escapes your lips when he points at Jaehyuk who’s laughing maliciously at a kneeling Doyoung.

“Actually, it’s the guy who looks like he needs life support, but close enough.” you lift a brow at the flannel guy. “Is there a reason why you’re staring at me like that?”

He shrugs in response. “I’m just happy that I managed to lift up your spirits a little bit.”

There it is again, the glimmer in his eyes. You can’t lay a finger on what exactly it is, whether it’s playfulness or an underlying risk. All you know is that it's a gamble. You either take the leap or you keep it safe. It’s not the first time that you end up in such a situation, but this time, it’s a little but different. The only thing that is stopping you is the uncertainty of reading him.

But maybe, maybe it’s not that bad.

“You know,” you start and fiddle with your fingers, “I’m fairly sure that you’re the only one who can enlighten me here.”

Your hunch is proven right. It is not that bad. Not bad at all, actually.

For the next hour, you two stay seated on the couch and talk about all kinds of things. Sometimes, when you bother to care, you laugh at some mishaps that occur right in front of your eyes, like Chaeryeong tripping over her own feet before she crashes into Mashiho and makes him fall flat on his face.

“Wanna grab something to drink?” he asks after a while and swirls the last few ounces of liquid in his cup. “Besides, I think I need a refill.”

“Sure,” you reply and you both enter the kitchen. The room is empty apart from the two of you, and though you can still hear the music blasting through the closed door, your ears don’t ache as much anymore.

While you grab ahold of one of the opened bottles of cherry cola and pour it into an unused red cup, you watch him roll up the sleeves of his flannel from the corner of your eye. He has pretty hands, you figure, and maybe it would’ve been better if you didn’t stare at them for so long. It’s only a subtle flick of his wrist as he fixes his sleeves, but you don’t fail to notice fine black lines on his left wrist.

Before you ponder longer about it, he asks you, “Hey, can you pass me the cherry cola?”

You nod wordlessly and hand him the bottle and don’t leave his hand movements out of your sight. Once in a while, your eyes flit to the fridge behind him, to the few strands of jet black hair that sick out messily or to his eyes. Curiosity has never been a trait that really defines you, but sometimes, you can’t help but try to decode the name on his wrist.

Still oblivious to your underlying intentions, he continues rambling about his favorite music producers. “Cha Cha Malone has this really distinctive tone in his productions…” he places the edge of his cup on his lips with his left hand and suddenly, your blood runs cold.

Though there is the slight possibility that you are suffering from hallucinations, you are pretty damn sure it is not an illusion. The kitchen sheds enough light to see everything clearly, from the slight bags under his eyes to the coffee stains on the table. The lights aren’t blinding, but they’re enough to decipher the fine black lines inked on his left wrist.

Your name.

“... and I feel that– hey, you look like you saw a ghost. Is everything alright?” he furrows his brows in concern, but when he follows the trail where you’re looking at, he gets the gist. You notice him tense up and are pretty sure it’s not a trick of the light when he pales, something akin to guilt paints his face.

“Come to think of it,” you mumble and avert your eyes from his wrist. “I didn't catch your name. Who are you?”

He hesitates, chews on his bottom lips first before he answers. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights and it just fuels your thought that the worst case scenario has become a reality. You hope it isn’t what you think it is.

“I’m Bang Yedam.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to force any coherent words past your lips. A shiver runs down your spine, and though there is less to be scared of because your name is inked on his wrist too, you're still wary. Obviously, the one who is destined to end your life won't have your name tattooed on them.

But with your circumstances, you can't help but include that possibility.

Yedam doesn't hide his panic anymore as he tries to justify himself. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself earlier, (y/n). Doyoung told me not to–"

"Doyoung? What does Doyoung have to do with this?"

When all you're met with is silence, you ask again with something akin to fury laced in your tone. "I said, what does Doyoung have to do with this?"

He diverts his gaze to the counter behind you with pursed lips. Knowing that he won't spill the truth, you try to find the remaining puzzle pieces to complete the mystery by yourself. Your efforts are in vain though, because there is nothing you remember that could serve as a link to what Yedam said–

("I realized I still gotta call someone.")

"I need to go," you say when it dawns on you and you set the cup on the table. A jumble of emotions rages in you, be it the anger that flows through your veins or the whirlwind of irritation and disappointment and despair flooding your senses. You don't stop when Yedam calls after you and tries to make you stay.

You rush into the living room to grab your belongings, completely ignoring Doyoung who is still oblivious to your discovery. It's when he takes a closer look at your trembling hands and pessimistic face that the joy falls from his face.

"Hey, why are you leaving already?" he asks, concern laced in his voice as he tries to touch you, but you swat his hand away.

You huff. "Mind your own business, I really don't appreciate your stunt."

"What?" he furrows his brows and tries to figure out the meaning of your words. "I don't understand–"

"(y/n), please don't go– oh God." Yedam slows down to a halt at the sight of you and Doyoung. The boy beside you widens his eyes when he sees Yedam and then, the realization strikes him like lightning.

"O-oh, that was what you're talking about. Look, I can explain–"

You don't stay a while longer to hear his reasoning.

There is a reason why Doyoung has been your best friend for so long. It isn't the first time for you to fight and if you're being honest, your ego isn't that big to not forgive him. Doyoung can be awfully nosy and loves to stick his nose into someone else's business. Therefore, it doesn't surprise you that you invite him over on an afternoon after he left fifty voice messages and over a hundred text messages in your inbox.

"Please don't start your explanation with 'I was trying to do you a favor'." you sigh in distress.

"I was trying to do you a favor," he bluntly says and it costs you your willpower to not invite him out of your place. Doyoung sends you a crooked grin before he turns serious. "Okay, real talk now. I was just... surprised when I saw Yedam's name on your neck. And since I already knew that one of Yedam's tattoos is your name, I thought it'd be a good idea to make you two meet. Turns out to be that I was a fool."

"You're always a fool, please," you deadpan and snicker when he shoots you a death glare.

"Hey! I was trying to be an empathetic best friend here! I just breathed and here you are, clowning me. That is disrespectful!"

He attempts to throw you off your chair by aiming a pillow at you. Instead, he almost knocks down the succulent on your desk. The next few minutes, you bicker for a while and start an impromptu tickle fight to lighten up the mood. It's when you both lie on the carpeted floor and your heartbeats have fallen back into a steady rhythm that he addresses the problem at hand.

"Why don't you want to give him a chance?"

"My gut says it won't end well," you reply slowly.

Doyoung shuffles to the side to get a good glimpse of your face. "You know, the chance is high that Yedam's your soulmate. He's got your name too, after all. And he's willing to give it a shot, y'know? One meeting doesn't sound bad and won't be the end of the world."

You hesitate, considering the implied proposal with a frown. "It's complicated."

"So you're willing to let the glorious chance pass by?"

"Yes."

Taken aback by your rapid answer, Doyoung adds in a quieter tone, "Not many people manage to find even one of the two people. Even less find the one who wears their names too. You should definitely consider it, (y/n)."

"I get where you're coming from, but..." your voice trails off.

Doyoung watches you with expectant eyes. "But?" he drawls.

But you don't understand.

"You're not gonna stop bugging me until I say yes, are you?" you say instead. Although you'd trust your life to him, you don't want to burden him with your tattoo dilemma. He may not let it show too much, but you know he has his worries and he doesn't need to break his head about the meaning of your only tattoo too.

"Do you want the truth or a fabrication of lies?" he asks with a suggestively raised brow, making you roll his eyes at his silliness.

"Fine, I'll meet up with him one time. He shouldn't get his hopes up, though."

For some reason, you find yourself walking into the café fifteen minutes earlier. You blame it on the fact that there surprisingly was no traffic jam, although it's rush hour. As it turns out, you're not the only one to arrive earlier than expected, because Yedam enters the coffee shop five minutes after you.

He notices you right away, seated in between red and black cushions at the far back of the room, but doesn't steer towards you instantly. Instead, he stands in line and orders two drinks before he approaches you. An uncertain, shy smile adorns his face and contrary to the first time you met him, he's different. His hands shake so much that he spills one cup a little bit when he sets them down and he can't bring it over himself to look you in the eye. Yedam's treading lightly, abnormally careful about his own actions.

"I got you hot chocolate. I hope you don't mind," he mumbles and slides the cup towards you.

There's the need to tell him not to worry and loosen up. However, you don't manage to do so. What you do manage is a quiet "thanks" before you take a sip of it.

Well, at least Doyoung wasn't lying when he said that the café served delicious beverages.

Awkward, heavy and pressuring don't even come remotely close to describe the silence hovering above you. Even an innocent bystander can tell that neither of you is exactly comfortable in your shoes.

"So." Yedam's ears perk up when you clear your throat. "You wanted to meet me."

"Yeah…" his voice trails off as he taps his fingers on his paper cup. This time, he's wearing a blue wool sweater with sleeves so long they cover up his palms. You fight the urge to ask him if you could see his left wrist.

"Uh, give me a second to mentally prepare myself." he stammers before he starts anew. "I'm going to be honest here. I was happy when Doyoung called me and said he knew someone who wore my name. I had a great time that night and I, um, guess that things wouldn't have ended like that if you figured it out in a different manner."

"I'm going to be honest too," you confess. "I had a lot of fun that night, well, before it started to go downhill. It's just, I don't think I'll be able to cope with this." You gesture on your own wrist.

Something that hits very close to desperation is written on his face. For the first time, he looks at you directly and tries to read you. "Listen, I'm not trying to force anything on you. I know not everyone cares about the marks and that's fine. I just..."

He hesitates, tries to find the right words. Judging by the tone of his voice and the quiet sigh that escapes his lips, you know he doesn't belong to the group of people who don't care, unlike you – and he is very well aware of that too.

"You just?" you probe. Though you are quite sure what words will follow next, you need to hear them come out of his own mouth.

Yedam glances at you unsurely, wariness audible in his voice when he speaks up. "I was just hoping to, uh, get to know you. It doesn't have to be something long lasting, I swear. If you feel uncomfortable, we can break it off at any time. I was hoping that we could at least try."

There are many, many red lights blinking in your mind. This suggestion is nothing more than a very, very bad idea. In your case, the journey doesn't even matter. It doesn't matter if you end up being more than friends. What matters is the result. And, well, the result is inevitable.

Amongst the many, many stop signs that practically scream DON'T DO IT, there is one brain cell that begs to differ. Yedam looks at you expectantly, pleadingly even. His desperation is visible in his eyes as if they held stardust which reflects his every emotion.

You inhale deeply through your nose in an attempt to steady your frantic heartbeat. It's bound to end in a tragedy and you should care more, but you don’t have the heart to reject him.

Hopefully, you don't sound so unconvinced and scared when you respond.

"Trying sounds good."

Yedam is careful. He's so careful it genuinely surprises you. He doesn't push you to anything, works his way to more personal questions (though so far, the most personal question he's asked you was how long you've been friends with Doyoung) and tries his best to cater everything to your needs. It's by the fifth time you meet up in person when he finds the courage to ask for your number. Truth be told, you can practically see him pondering five minutes about each text he writes before sending it to you. The absence of emojis in his messages just confirm how nervous he still is.

It's still awkward when you talk and most of the time, it's Yedam who asks questions. Yet he's quick to pick up certain likes and dislikes, like your favorite ice cream flavor or your least favorite type of music.

It goes without saying that Doyoung practically demands regular updates. He was over the moon when you told him how your first date ended and even paid you bubble tea. That was how happy he was for you.

"He's not as bad as expected," you say as you nonchalantly look for good Netflix movies to watch.

Doyoung snorts in response. "Of course I knew that already. I've known Yedam for a good while now and seriously, all he does is sing the High School Musical soundtrack and swoon about music producers."

"He sings?"

You practically feel Doyoung rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. "Duh. That guy's a singing god. But you have my word, (y/n), I'll end him and twist out his intestines if he hurts you. You really don't have anything to worry about."

"The only thing I worry about is you becoming a potential murderer," you say in a monotonous voice. (In a way, it’s ironic, given how there is bound to be someone who wears Doyoung’s name with the negative connotation.)

That causes your best friend to laugh in an exaggerated manner. "Very funny. In all seriousness though–" he grabs a handful of chips and stuffs it in his mouth, "–how do you not know that he sings? Even though you know he produces his own songs? I thought you talk lots."

"The thing is–" you shuffle to the side and hope he won't spit any crumbs on you, "–he's the one who talks. I just listen and answer his questions."

Doyoung sends you an unbelievable look that's equivalent to 'Are you serious?' "Then ask some questions back, you fool!"

"I don't know what to ask though!"

"What? You truly are unbelievable." he groans and throws his head back. "I guess I have to step up my game and help out a poor soul, huh?"

You throw him an offended look. "I am not an imbecile!"

"I never said that, dumbass," he tuts. "But back to the point. Yedam likes music, just recommend him some songs and he's gonna love you. Or have a High School Musical marathon with him. For all I know, attend a concert with him or just let him show you his own songs– the possibilities are endless! You always meet up at that café and although it's nice and cozy there, it's getting boring. If you only knew how panicky Yedam gets when I bring you up in our conversations: pitiful! That's what it is!"

"I don't know if that'd be a good idea–"

"Listen, I have no idea why you are so against getting close to him and since we already had this talk, I'm not gonna bring it up again. But for the love of God, if you already agree on trying, then put in some effort yourself!" he exclaims and with every word, his hand gestures become bigger. It even reaches the point where you're certain that he's going to hit you in the face.

Nonetheless, he’s right. You desperately need to step up your game.

Yedam is confused when you send him a link while he’s talking about something you don’t bother listening to. His irritation is visible in his scrunched brows, in the way his gaze switches from you, then back to his phone, and in the little hitch in his voice.

“They say your music taste tells a lot by yourself.” you shrug and try to sound as casual as possible. “And, uh, perhaps I heard that you like listening to new songs.”

The confusion morphs into a small yet genuine smile once he sees that it’s a link to a Spotify playlist. “You’re not wrong about that. While we’re at it, here.”

Your phone vibrates, signifying a new text message. Just like him, you fail to hide your amusement when you see the link to his own Spotify playlist, followed by a SoundCloud profile.

“Let me guess, the SoundCloud one is where you post your own music?” you joke lightly but when you look up and meet Yedam’s bewildered expression, you gulp. “Did I say something insensitive?”

Yedam hastily shakes his head. “No, not at all! I’m just surprised that you remembered that I produce some songs too.”

“I mean, it’s hard not to forget that when Doyoung gushed about that for a good hour and you like to swoon about how much of an idol Cha Cha Malone is to you.”

He looks at you with a stunned expression. “Do I really talk that often about him?”

“No. I just remembered that, that’s all.” you smile lightly. Regardless of whether or not Yedam buys it, the apples of his cheeks are dusted red and he looks down as if he hopes for the floor to swallow him whole.

Quickly realizing that the atmosphere might turn into an embarrassingly long and awkward silence, you scroll through the Spotify playlist and chuckle when you recognize songs you haven’t heard in a while yet.

“Do you have something against my music taste?” Yedam asks, partly wary, partly sounding as if he was ready to brawl.

“No, of course not!” you explain once you calm down. “It’s just, it’s been a while since I heard the Jonas Brothers. Also, uh, I’ve never seen High School Musical and you have a lot of songs in it.”

Yedam looks like he's about to jump out of the window and his eyeballs might have fallen out of its sockets after your confession.

"What did you even do in your childhood?" He acts as if it was an unforgivable crime and then adds with conviction, "First of all, the entire soundtrack is on the playlist. Second of all, what are you waiting for? We need to catch up with things you should've done when you were a child!"

“What are you–” Before you get to finish your thoughts, he grabs ahold of your hand and leads you out of the café. “Where are we going?”

“My place,” he replies without looking back at you as he picks up his pace. “You need to watch all movies. I refuse to leave you uncultured.”

Your attempts of not having to watch any of the films prove themselves futile. That, and the other, unexpectedly childlike side of him make you stay. Even if you planned on running away, you couldn’t anyway. With the way your hands are intertwined, it’s hard to do so. Though by now you’re practically rushing down streets and occasionally bump into a pedestrian or two, the incredulous look on their faces when they see you hand in hand is something you don’t miss.

You don’t know whether the feeling bubbling in your gut should feel warm.

When Doyoung said that Yedam knew every single song from High School Musical, he meant every single song.

You tried, you really tried to pay attention to the storyline. However, it’s not that easy when five minutes into the movie, the first song comes up and Yedam belts out every single note in a theatrical way. You find yourself anticipating the next song so he’ll sing more rather than the actual plot progression.

When Doyoung said that Yedam could sing, he meant he could sing. It would’ve been nice of him if he had warned you beforehand how angelic Yedam’s voice was because your jaw dropped to the floor the moment he started to sing. You didn’t know what you expected, but you certainly did not expect to be swept off the ground in a span of 0.08998 seconds.

“Did I just ruin your fun?” Yedam asks carefully, a bashful smile plastered on his face once the first song came to an end.

The question startles you and you blink at him in awe before you feel the heat creep up your cheeks. “What? No! I mean, no. I was just surprised that your voice is that nice,” you manage to choke out.

His smile widens, and your face flushes a deep red.

“So you don’t mind me singing along?”

“I prefer your voice over that guy right there…” you pause. “Wait, what? Forget what I said.”

“Me? Forgetting that? You wish,” he beams and erupts in laughter when you cover your face with your hands. “But if that’s what you want, I’ll sing along.”

You find yourself listening to Yedam singing anything your heart desires many times after.

While you still have no idea what exactly the plot of High School Musical is up until now, you indulge in the heavenly voice of your human jukebox even more with every passing day.

Depending on his mood, you discover the many facets of his personality. On days where he’s tired and you happen to stop by just because you’re casually in the neighborhood, he shows you his self composed songs. Although the bags under his eyes are impossible to miss, he keeps his head held up high and urges you to comment on all of his songs despite rather wanting to hide under the covers.

On days where you’re tired and happen to be lounging on his couch, he loves to lull you to sleep. His voice is soft and gentle, just like his hands playing with your hair as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Then there are days where it seems as if stole the sun’s job or had drunk too many energy drinks and jumps around like a lunatic while belting out the melody of My Heart Will Go On.

Today seems like a day where he’s just emitting happiness.

Truth be told, you don’t know when exactly you’ve let down your guard. The current scenario is too sickeningly domestic for your liking – with you leaning your head on his shoulder while his arm is lazily draped around you. The third installment of High School Musical running on screen doesn’t quite suit your taste either, yet you don’t make any amends to put some distance between you.

“Do you know how to dance?” Yedam asks casually, eyes glued on the screen. Currently, Troy and Gabriella are at the school rooftop and it seems as if the next song is going to start soon.

Your eyes narrow at him. “What are you planning?”

“I’ll take it as a no. But that’s fine too.”

“Yedam, seriously, what are you planning?”

There’s a gleeful twinkle in his eyes when he faces you. Before you can ask again, he stands up and pulls you up with him.

“Just trust me on this. It’ll be fun,” he interrupts you in the middle of your doubts. That shuts you up for good, yet it doesn’t hinder you from sending him warning glares.

You stay blissfully unaware of his ulterior motives until he firmly grabs one hand and puts your other on his shoulder, followed by planting his free hand on your waist. He shoots you a fond and reassuring smile to soothe your panicked self. Then slowly and surely, the first guitar strums come out of the speakers before Gabriella starts singing in the background.

A quick glance behind Yedam to the screen, where the lovestruck couple is also in the same position as you, is enough to let you know in which direction this is heading to.

“No. No. No. I can’t dance, much less slow dance–”

“I’ll guide you. Just keep your eyes on me,” he muses and tilts your chin so you lock eyes.

There are so many cells in you that are screaming at you to look away, but you’re unable to do so. There’s something behind the fragments of fondness in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher, but either way, you get lost in his eyes and your breath hitches.

“Let me guide you,” he repeats in a tone that makes you melt in a matter of seconds. You’re pretty sure your legs would’ve given up at this point if it weren’t for him who takes a step back and tugs you with him.

It goes without saying that you feel like a newborn baby deer that’s still clumsy on its legs. In the first few tries, you’re uncoordinated, stiff as a board and step on his toes a few times, and you’re not able to look away from him. He winces when you misplace your foot and you shoot him an apologetic look in return, but after some time, you get the hang out of it. Midway through the song, your legs no longer feel as if they’re going to mutate into jelly as you sway through the expanse of his living room.

“Look, you’re doing just fine,” Yedam reassures warmly before a grin etches across his lips; as if he just came up with a brilliant masterplan. “Wanna try a spin?”

“No,” you shoot out like a bullet and cause him to giggle. “This is enough for today.”

“Fine then, maybe next time.”

The rest of the song is spent in comfortable silence, warm smiles and occasionally knocking over a book or two when you happen to bump against the shelf. When the song comes to a slow end, you find yourself coming to a standstill. It’s just then when you realized how dangerously close Yedam really is. His breath hits your lips and you pick up the slight scent of spearmint.

You’re not the only one who notices. Yedam’s gaze switches from your eyes to your lips. Confliction is prominent in his face. Even though you’ve grown more comfortable around him, a feeling similar to home even, he’s aware he can’t cross all your limits yet. He doesn’t dare to prod further, lean a little bit closer and you know he’s wordlessly giving you the shots.

At this point, your heart practically hammers against your chest and you wouldn’t put it past him to hear it too. Perhaps, you’re in too deep and for a moment, you slowly move closer until it’s just a matter of a few millimeters separating you.

That is until you’re aware of the fact that you’re clinging onto his hand as if he were your lifeline. The realization causes a knot in your stomach. Suddenly, the doubts flash your mind; the fear that initially overcame you when you first met him at the party, when you found out who Yedam was.

There’s nothing wrong with Yedam. He’s nice and talented and genuinely cares. Yet at the same time, you’re not certain if there’s nothing wrong with him. You can’t be fully certain of him and that realization strikes you like lightning once more.

You try to ignore the sadness that washes over him for a short moment when you pull away.

“I’m sorry. It’s just a little complicated to explain,” you mumble apologetically.

“It’s fine,” he replies in the same manner.

There’s no doubt that you can see the genuineness in his eyes, but you can’t tell whether he was really telling the truth or was trying to manipulate himself into thinking that it truly is fine for him.

Surprisingly, as well as to your luck, he doesn’t bring up the episode again. In fact, he acts as if it never happened and honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You’ve become a little more cautious ever since, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him performing a little bit of skinship on you. He still sings for you, proudly shows you his latest songs and becomes cozy around you whenever you watch a movie.

Just like any other day you’re at his place, you’re sitting on the couch and currently scrolling mindlessly through your inbox while Yedam is on the other end of the couch.

“I really like you.”

You hope you misheard what he said. Yes, you definitely misheard it, you’re positive of that. The intensity of his gaze when your eyes meet begs to differ though.

Honestly, the day was bound to come sooner or later. After all, you’re not that oblivious. Yedam is similar to you, you like to think – he wears his heart on his sleeve. But whereas you let your bad sides show, he puts all the good in him on display.

“How are you so sure that we’re soulmates? Do you have any other reason besides the fact that I wear your name too?” you ask after a moment of silence. It costs you your entire willpower to not lash out on him and say once more that you’re not interested in something more than what you already have, but he wouldn’t believe that.

And frankly, you’re not sure if you would believe yourself either.

“I do,” he responds, voice full of conviction. “I say it so easily because I found the other person already, and I know that he’s not my soulmate.”

“Again, what makes you so certain about that?”

Yedam purses his lips and hesitates before he sits directly next to you. He opens his mouth several times, but no words come out.

Then suddenly, without any verbal warning whatsoever, he turns to you completely and tugs on the collar of his sweater, pulling it so far down until he exposes a strip of skin underneath his left collarbone.

You gape at the sight, hope you’re hallucinating. You really hope this is just a trick of the light. It must be one.

The pitch black ink contrasts with his skin, and though the letters are fine lines and easy to miss if you don’t pay attention, the name leaves a burning image in your head and a foul taste in your mouth.

Kim Doyoung.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to kill me if he really wants to. And trust me, he’ll definitely have a reason to do so.” Yedam chuckles dryly as he covers the tattoo.

Although you already know the answer, you ask flabbergasted. “Does he know?”

“That I wear his name? Unless he wears mine, which I highly doubt, no. He would’ve confronted me about this by now if he knew.”

It explains a lot. No, it explains everything. It explains why Yedam oozed confidence and was sure that you were bound to last a lifetime. It explains why he looks at you as if you were the center of his world without a doubt. It explains why he’s not afraid of you. He’s only been treading lightly because of you.

You sneak another glance at him and the sight causes something in you to break. Yedam is sitting right beside you, watching you carefully and pleadingly even. The specks of glimmer he holds in his eyes, the ones that reveal his feelings, aren’t even specks anymore. They’ve dissolved and you’re looking right through him. He wears his emotions on full display now, the desperation is prominent more than ever.

He’s treading lightly yet is needy for an answer and slowly reaches out for your hand. Before it can get so far, you turn away from him and croak out a weak “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t trust me?” you wince at the hurt laced in the undertone of his voice.

“It has nothing to do with me trusting you. It’s me, okay? It’s just–”

“–complicated, I get it,” he spits out the words as if they were acid and suddenly, the couch feels much lighter.

“Yedam, I didn’t mean it like that!” you stand up and grab the hem of his sweater in an attempt to bring him to a standstill. “I’m sorry.”

Yedam stands still, but he doesn’t turn around to meet you. He takes in a deep breath and sighs audibly, but you don’t miss the hitch in his breath as if he’s trying to contain something else.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–” he pauses, stabilizes his shaky pitch before he reaches back and detaches your grip, “Nevermind.”

He leaves you alone in his living room and it costs you your entire energy to not break down onto the floor.

He doesn’t text you anymore and as much as you itch to contact him, you don’t muster up the courage to actually do it.

Doyoung also noticed the shift in your relationship. Fortunately, he doesn’t pry further and never brings up Yedam in your conversations. You’ve never told him any details but you’re relatively sure that Yedam said some things to him.

Either way, Doyoung remains a great friend. He tries his best to lift up your spirits – even bought you a gallon of your favorite ice cream flavor along with a lifetime supply of candy of all sorts. Once he realized that his wallet was suffering, he resorted to cooking your favorite food, even if that almost resulted in him burning down the kitchen.

However, as much as Doyoung might distract you from your pity party, he’s not a permanent fix. You know it and he knows it. Therefore, it really doesn’t faze you when he brings up the last person you’d want on your mind (to your dismay, he’s the only person on your mind).

“He’s also miserable right now, you know?”

When you don’t respond, he sighs and drops on the seat next to you, seeing it as his cue to continue. “He’s waiting for your call. I don’t know what went down between the two of you, but you better sort it out. Not only am I running out of ideas to get you out of your house, but I’m also pretty sure you two will end up as living corpses if you don’t fix it soon.”

You lift up your head and purse your lips. “It’s not going to end well.”

“You always say that.” he rolls his eyes, sounding more fed up this time. “Yedam didn’t tell me a lot and I know you get turn hyperventilated whenever it comes to your tattoos, so I’m not going ask about that. I never did and never will, get it? All I know is that Yedam dished out his soulmate situation from start to finish. You should trust him too, wholeheartedly.”

“I would’ve done that if I could a long time ago!”

“If I could,” he mimics, two octaves higher than your actual tone, “You can! I don’t want to guilt trip you or anything, but it’s only fair if he knows too. He’s poured his heart out to you, why can’t you do the same? Just think like this: say we live in a world where soulmate tattoos don’t exist, would you like him?”

“I…” your voice trails off.

Seemingly satisfied with your reaction, Doyoung sighs and stands up.

“I think you know the answer too. Talk to him, please.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never invited Yedam over to your place. That’s about to change when you send him your address and find him at your doorstep later in the evening. The sun is long gone and in its place shines the moon along with the stars. Their light is enough to taint your living room in a soft glow and it’s enough to notice every single one of his features.

He’s tired, looks like he hasn’t slept well in days, yet frankly, there’s something oddly comforting about his presence.

“You called?” he asks to break the ice.

Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. You could’ve also practiced weeks before but you doubt you’d ever get rid of the uncertainty laced in your shaky voice when you start to talk about that topic.

You fiddle with the hem of your sleeves. “I realized something. You never asked to see my tattoo.” It’s not what you rehearsed, but as long as it leads to the point, it’s alright.

“I didn’t want to pressure you,” he responds.

You observe his expression, narrow your eyes in a brief moment of contemplation before you slowly undo the scarf you’re wearing. Yedam is quick to guess where this is heading to and quickly stammers, “Wait, you don’t have to justify yourself in front of me!”

“No, I want to,” you say with conviction and turn around so he can see the black ink at the back of your neck. Although the room is just dimly lit, you know that he can see it clearly. For a moment, you get goosebumps as his fingers ghost over the ink, but you let him bask in his fascination.

“The truth is, this is the only tattoo I was born with,” you confess after a moment of silence.

He gulps. “What?”

“I only wear your name, Yedam. You’re smart, I’m sure you understand the weight of that.” You turn around but don’t find the courage nor the energy to look him in the eye. The silence is heavy, unbearable, and literally nothing about it lifts the pressure off your shoulders. You don’t need to see him to know how the revelation shatters his view on everything in millions of shards.

“Look at me, please,” he pleads instead, and when you shake your head in response, he gently cups your face. You have no other choice but to do as and are startled when all you see is not pure horror, but soft, pure and wholehearted adoration in him.

“God, (y/n), I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. Believe me when I say you mean so much to me. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to have you voluntarily open up to me. and now that I see the situation from your view, I get why you were so unwilling at first. But trust me when I say I only want the best for you and would never put you in danger.” The raw vulnerability in his voice makes you believe him for a while and keeps you from breaking out in tears.

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I do know that. Did you already forget? Doyoung is my potential killer,” he says matter-of-factly and sends you a broken smile, “So before I kill you, I’ll make sure that he ends me first.”

“Great, and then my best friend ends up in jail.”

This time, he genuinely laughs. You, on the other hand, can’t bite down the small smile that paves its way on your lips from that weak joke.

“You’re right, I can’t guarantee your safety from me,” Yedam admits once he’s calmed down and tucks a strand of your hair in place before he goes on, “But I can guarantee that I’ll do anything in my power to make you happy. Have you even looked at my SoundCloud profile? Ever since I met you the majority of my releases are love songs!”

“So you admit that the songs are all about me?” you playfully raise a brow at him.

“Of course they’re all about you.” he breathes out as if the weight on his shoulders was lifted off of him. Yedam still looks like he could need some sleep, but there is no longer a sign of restlessness. He is at ease, and it shows the most when he adds fondly, “It doesn’t have to last forever. We can break it off if you feel unsafe. I hope we can at least try.”

The course of this conversation is oddly reminiscent to your first date in the café, you think. Back then, you were more than convinced that the only way this would end was as a tragedy. Back then, you just said your answer out of pity, one might say. But that was back then, and this time, you’re more than serious and more than convinced when you respond with a smile.

“Trying sounds good.”

289 notes · View notes

poeticblissme · 5 years

Text

Into the New year

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Prompt: Fireworks can bring anyone closer together, in the best way.

Word Count: 3,015 ( Honestly, I did not think it got to 3k I shocked myself)

Warnings: Fluff, Smut,unprotected Sex BE SAFE PLEASE.

A/N: Sheesh I have not written in so so long lol, I have to get back into the groove of things but I wanted to post this because it took me FOREVER to write this. I hope it’s not bad

I want to personally thank @gimmesumsuga @kpopfanfictrash @underthejoon @floralseokjin @btssmutgalore @iq-biased @yoonia have read many of their works, and I pushed myself to finally write a BTS one shot due to the confidence I gained from their writing. I am no where NEAR their writing level as I am new to BTS fan-fiction, but I did enjoy making this.

I hope my Marvel followers enjoy my BTS fics as much as my Marvel ones. Thank you beauties for inspiring me <3 Please check out their writing. Feedback is appreciated <3 <3

There was something immensely magical about the coming of the new year. Perhaps it was the prospect of a fresh start, that idea on its own gave hope to endless new opportunities to live life better than you had before. It could also be the thought of having a new year to gradually build more of what you had physically and emotionally constructed over the last few years. All in all, despite the many hardships you have faced through your life, ending one year and walking into the next was a pleasant balance of past and present, and you intended to make most of the time you were given to enjoy it.

That was why you took so much pride in getting the chance to spend the opening of this year with the love of your life. To you, this was the perfect introduction into a new and fruitful year, a year that you wanted to share and enjoy with the person who meant the most to you.

You made a mental note to thank your boyfriend for taking you to view the end of the year fireworks. It was so considerate how he took into account how much you wanted to see the full cascade of lights in full view, since it was something you never got the chance to see in person. The fact he remembered the conversation you had from months ago at all tugged at your already extremely delicate heartstrings.

You had explained to him how as a child, your parents were always very busy. Being the workaholics that they were, it prevented either of them from taking you, no matter how much pleaded. You never really had time for family events, or regular boding time that most other family’s had, so you had to occupy your time with things around the flat, or make your own form of entertainment. You also explained how the apple truly did not fall far from the tree, seeing as how after you grew up and moved out, you spent every year watching the show from different television screens in the office you were employed at, due to pulling endless amounts of overtime at your job.

This year however, was a sweet change. You had received a text from your boss, stating how a very sweet young man named Park Jimin had sent an email, (A very professional email at that) requesting that you be given new years eve off, and he had graciously accepted the offer with out hesitation. Your boss was aware of how hard you always worked, in fact, he took pride in every once of heart and soul you put into anything you did. His decision was very easy to make, and he made sure you understood that. That was what got you here today, at the edge of the open field, awaiting for the show to officially begin.

“I still can’t believe you emailed my boss for this.” You spoke, slipping your left hand into his right, leaning your head to rest on his shoulder.

Jimin let out a small chuckle at your comment. “Hey, this was something I had planned for months, there was no way I was going to allow you to go to work after all the planning I did for this.”

You knew he was telling the truth, from the fancy breakfast, afternoon brunch, and evening dinner, you knew he had to have reserved most of places you had gone to months in advance. The whole day was spent enjoying each others company, all the while having nice relaxing settings to accompany the pleasant presence of two people who were very much in love.

“Well, I am very grateful for everything you have done today.” You spoke, lifting your head to stare at him. “Really Jimin, I have had such an amazing time today, I don’t think I have felt this good in a while.”

Jimin turned to look at you, a playful smile resting on his perfectly formed face. “Well, I don’t know if I should be more flattered or upset, does this mean you did not like any time we have spent together in the past?”

You huffed in fake annoyance, hitting the hand that rested in his pocket. “You know what I was trying to say you jerk.”

Jimin smiled, the playful look now replaced with genuine love and appreciation. “Yeah, I do.”

You had opened your mouth to respond, when you could see a small flicker of light shoot up from behind the cascade of tress before you. It ascended quickly, and before your eyes, it exploded, pushing forward streams of bright orange lights, which with time passing turned into a bright pink hue of lights that disappeared withing mere seconds.

Soon, another stream of light shot up from the tips of threes, ascending up into the sky, only this time, when you could see it exploding, it turned into streams of bright green, soon disappearing into a hue of a light off white color.

You looked to the sky in awe, as many other colors and shapes formed in the sky, each disappearing and making room for even more exploding colors seconds after. The rainbow lights captured your full attention, the sound of a far yet close blast and pop filling your ears. You never imagined feeling this happy or excited at such a small magical moment, but you could not hold on to the emotions that flowed out of you.

This was everything you had ever wanted, it may have been a small request, seeing something as simple as fireworks, but being able to see something in person for the first time, paired with getting to share such a moment with someone who truly loved you, who knew the things that plagued your mind, who listened to you when times got to be too much, or not enough, was a beautiful gift. Jimin was always that man for you, he was such a loving man, he quickly became the one who you leaned on and trusted because he supported you through the good and bad days. Jimin was there through them all, and you loved him for it.

“It’s so beautiful.” You spoke in a whisper, you eyes still taking in the scene before you and enjoying you memories, like a child seeing a candy store for the first time.

“It truly is.” You heard from next to you. You knew Jimin had seen the fireworks before, but to see his reaction for yourself, and not having to depend on his worded visuals of his experience, was something you knew you should not take for granted.

When you had turned to see him however, you noticed that his eyes were not on the show itself, but they were turned onto you. You watched as his eyes trailed up and down you body, taking in every crevice and freckle on your person. You could feel the heat rising to you cheeks, while your heart began beating a lot faster than before.

“It seems you have caught me staring, Y/N.” Jimin spoke, his lips turning into his signature Cheshire smile. “You really are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.”

“And You really are the sweetest man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” You responded, turning your body so your eyes finally fully locked with Jimin’s. His eyes scanned yours with interest, and you noticed how his pupils seems much darker, more determined. You decided to taken in his person as a whole, the tight dark blue jeans he wore complimented the soft black sweater that hugged his neck ever so lightly. You could feel your his arm clench at your words, and that only made you long for him more. He was always so humble, never knowing how to take a proper compliment. You were the same in some aspects, but with him, the love you have for him is so deep, so pure, you could not help but feeling of a longing presence creep to the crevice of your core.

You felt your legs tighten, the desire growing almost out of no where. However, you could feel that with the mixture of the feeling of this holiday, mixed with the admiration and love you held for Jimin, was becoming too much for your body to handle. You felt the love and the needs churning deep inside of you, and you could not help but bite your lip, the full force of pleasure and want settling in the pit of your stomach, and pushing to the surface of your body.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jimin asked, his voice deep and inviting. You watched as his attention turned to your lips, and you could not help but notice his tongue dart out across his own. How was he always this hot? I mean you knew he was hot but damn...sometimes he really was a bit too irresistible.

“I did, but it seems my...attention has somewhat, changed. I do enjoy this, but I have some other scenery in mind.” You spoke, your eyes traveling from his down to the space between your bodies, eyeing the growing erecting that poked the inside of his jeans.

“Is that so?” He asked, turning his body to now fully face yours. “Then lets go home my love, I have the last of our plans to carry out ya know.”

The ride home was filled with anxious tension. You, the desperate woman who would do anything and everything to experience the girth of cock spreading your walls apart like no other. Then Jimin, the dominant male, who wants nothing more than to make you beg and plead for him. He knows how badly you want it, he knows how much you loved to be filed by his precious member, and he remembers how far you were willing to go, just to get it.

Entering your apartment was a silent praise to the Gods on your part. Your lips refused to leave his, even as clothes lifted from various body parts and ended up on a undisclosed location on the floor. You were practically sweating in anticipation, knowing what was coming next. You were never more desperate for anything in your life.

You could feel Jimins body press against yours. The heat of his skin, the touch of his soft hands against your bare thighs.

You could not control the moans that escaped your mouth as you got to your bed, it was like something had taken over you. You felt confident, loved, powerful. You knew if you pushed enough, if you gave him what he wanted, Jimin would give you what you wanted. He was whipped for you, and you knew exactly how to use that to your advantage, enough to pleasure the both of you.

“God, I cant enough of you.” He whispered to you, his lips close to the tip of your ear. “You’re like the gift that keeps on giving.”

You smiled at his sweet words, and let your self fall back onto the silk covers of your mattress, your hands slinking into the back of his hair. Your fingers clenched hard taking in bits of his hair on the back of his head and earning a deep groan from him, indicating his liked everything you were doing.

“You like that baby?” You asked sweetly, Your voice was slightly shaking giving off the impression you were not as confident as you made yourself out to be. You hoped Jimin had not noticed, but by the smirk on his face as he lifted to level with you own, you knew that was not the case.

“Oh I do indeed Y/N, however, I think you will like this much more.”

He dipped down to your chest area, The black lace bra you had concealing your breasts now became nothing more than a mere memory as Jimin unclasped the confines and threw the bothering piece of clothing to the floor.

“Much better.” He whispered, bringing his lips down onto the free nipple, making your back arch in approval.

He licked the precious nipple of your right breast, taking it in his teeth and nipping ever so lightly. He would switch every now and again, giving attention to both tits eagerly. The feeling of utter arousal shot down to your core, making your body shiver in approval. Your breathing began to quicken, you needed more, more than he was currently giving you.

“Jimin.” You pleaded, sounding so desperate, so needy. “Please, please Jimin please....”

“Please what, kitten.” He responded, knowing what he was doing to you, what he was making you feel. He wanted you to beg, to plead for his cock, to tell him he was the only one you wanted, that he was the only thing he needed.

“Please Jimin” You whined, knowing what he needed to hear. “I need your cock so bad, I need to fill me up and show me who I belong to..I need you so bad baby, please.”

“That’s a good kitten.” He speaks, rising from your left breast to look down between your bodies and palm his cock between you.

He presses his tip just outside your entrance, his voice straining in his throat as he speaks out to speak to you. “Are you ready for daddy?”

Approval. He always needed that approval, as if being inside you was a privilege, as if the mere thought of being this close to you was a mere dream. Each time, he would ask the same question, and each time, you would give him the same answer.

“Always, my precious king.”

He groaned in approval, and with your final words of consent, he entered you, finally making your body’s one form, one being, one piece of an infinite whole.

“Always so wet, so tight and ready for me.” Jimin spoke aloud, his body still, giving you time to adjust to his body.

You wanted to respond, but the feeling of his cock inside of you was beginning to drive you mad. It always felt this good when he was inside of you, It was like his body was your addiction. His body had the power of providing never ending of pleasure. You needed more, you needed something, anything to have more.

“God, Jimin, move, shit please me move daddy.” You pleaded, the need taking over your thoughts.

“You’re so needy, I fucking love it.” He groaned, pulling out of you slowly, then fulfilling your request with several hard thrusts.

His strokes became hard and precise, each stroke out and in a pressing direct attack on your insides in the best way possible. You could feel your eyes roll in the back of your head, the feelings to much for you to process.

“Holy fu-Fuck, Jimin, fu-fuck yes.” You stuttered, following the pattern of his thrusts.

“Holy Fuck yeah baby, holy shit yeah, fuck yes, tighten around daddy just like that, shit-, just like that, let me feel you kitten.” He spoke, his voice deep and dark. The lust had finally taken over both of you, leaving you both a heaving pie of mess, the need to feel more and more an obsession deep inside the combined raging souls.

“You feel so good daddy.” You whined, pushing your hips down, forcing a hard slap of your skin against his.

“Your Pussy is so fucking tight baby.” He responded with a grunt, still pounding into you with all he had. “No matter how many times I stretch out this delectable cunt, it always gets tighter, how does it always get tighter? Holy fuck you have a gift baby.”

You moaned at his words, your body clenching even tighter. You were getting close, you could feel it. There was too much to feel, to much to savor, to much to enjoy. You were falling more and more into a state of bliss and you could not control your thoughts, you movements. Al you wanted to do was let go, you were so close, so so close.

You had to tell him, to let him know that it was almost over, that you wanted to take this feeling to the edge with him at your side. What with the push of his hips, and the sound of his voice flowing back and forth in your ear made you suddenly became mute, you could only speak through your moans, through your cries of pleasure. The veins of his cock slid against your walls repeatedly, sending you into a frenzy, your a moans increased in volume fully showing how Jimin made a complete mess of the strong woman you once were.

“Ohh fu-fu-fuk....Jimin, oh jimin.” You sighed out, your body so ready to let go.

“I know baby.” Jimin called out, as if he knew what you were feeling, as if he knew what you were trying to say. “I know I know, god I know, keep going baby, just a little more, stay with me.”

His words motivated you to regain your focus, if not for just a bit longer. You wanted to to end this with him, and if it meant torturing yourself for these last few seconds, than so be it. You would do anything for him, and you would do anything to let go and feel complete with Jimin following close behind.

“Yes Y/N.” Jimin sighed, his thrusts becoming more frantic and fast paced. “Fuck Y/N, I fucking love your juicy pussy, come for me right now baby, please come now, holy fuck.”

You moaned out, your moans loud and whiny against the walls of your bedroom. Jimins moans bounced around the room, mixing with yours and creating a euphoric poem of finished escapades.

You rode out your high together, letting the last of your lustful desires dye down as you remained in each others arms.

“What a way to enter the new year, huh?”

“I gotta say Jimin.” You started, your breaths uneven. “This has been my favorite intro in to the new so far, I’ve never been more motivated.”

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