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jared-19-cant-reid · 3 years

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Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.”

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection.

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it.

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family.

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress.

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you.

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you.

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother.

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you.

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense.

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face.

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now.

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks.

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress. His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot.

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you.

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over.

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight.

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real.

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most.

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well.

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you.

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion.

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion.

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance.

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace.

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high.

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure.

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions.

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment.

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.”

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes. Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe.

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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walkuntilthedaylight · 3 years

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The people have spoken! How can I not give them what they want?

I'm gonna put this all under a cut, since it's a bit long, and also because it's highly interpretative/speculative and not everyone likes those kinds of posts as they can be rather subjective and, I suppose, invasive. I want to give two major caveats to my thoughts below: first is that I tend not to buy the idea that Paul was the "stable/normal" Beatle, mostly b/c I view marijuana dependency and workaholism as addictions and I take them pretty seriously. Second is that I really do love this kind of tabloid/gossip/personal account shit; I think it should be taken with a handful of salt, but I don't think it should be entirely dismissed out of hand either. I read this stuff like I'm piling up sheets of stained glass: I'm intrigued by the places where the colours blend and overlap, and ignore things that fall outside the prism. Anyway, let's dig in:

Okay, so what I found fascinating about 'Body Count' is that it's one of the only sources which observes Paul McCartney's mental health during the period between the India trip and when the band breakup really got rolling. I think it's overall a fairly self-absorbed text that definitely has some lies and exaggerations peppered in there to make things spicier and more dramatic, but its broad characterization - as I mentioned in my first post - isn't exactly libelous or out of left field. Some elements that make me think it's generally if not wholly authentic are: Paul's simultaneously forceful and dorky seduction style, his terrible Liverpool diet and poor housekeeping, the bouts of thrill-seeking recklessness, avoidant adventure crafting, dark moods when drinking non-socially, the occasional hot and cold bouts with the Apple Scuffs camped out at his gate, and the way in which he underplays his drug habit, which is SO "in truthfulness we spent most of the filming of Help! slightly stoned":

These details are so bizarrely specific and have significant overlap with both sympathetic and spurned personal accounts of Paul I've read in the past, so I believe Francie is just telling "Her Version Of The Truth" here rather than crafting a piece of pure fiction. The most important and revealing anecdote in the book is this one.

There's no reason not to believe this is a fairly accurate representation of something that actually happened, imo, since we know that anxious purse strings were an ongoing issue in the unusual turnover rate within the band Wings, and there are plenty of confirmed and rumoured cases alike of extended family members feeling entitled to a "piece of the pie"; this is just like, the kind of thing that happens to working class people who get catapulted into fame and fortune. And Paul in particular already had deep-seated financial anxiety for whatever reasons he'll never fully admit (as is his right, but I think his offhand claim that he "once heard some adults arguing about money and that's why" might actually be alluding to having heard some adults - y'know, like his parents - arguing over money fairly frequently). What esp interests me about the anecdote is the way Paul seems to connect the conflict b/t his dual "identities" with these financial expectations. Perhaps the CAPSLOCK emotional hysteria related in the book is puffed up for drama, but it does bring to mind one of the most revealing comments Linda ever made about their relationship, which is that Paul needed to be told he would still be loved when the cameras weren't rolling. And that's the thing: Francie caught Paul at the exact moment that the pillars of his Smile-For-The-Camera "Beatle" identity were collapsing; the dissolution of his relationships with John and Jane.

Whatever all this could possibly mean re: the breakup of the Lennon-McCartney partnership is a post for another time. What I wanna do instead is apply the level of speculation we usually reserve for that relationship to the endpoint of Paul and Jane's courtship.

So like, Paul and Jane: I know people are resistant to this specific POV, but I honestly just don't... think it was that deep? "Not deep", mind you, doesn't mean "not significant". Paul was obviously Jane's first love (u never forget), but the feeling I get from Paul's side (as a subconscious process I mean) is that Jane's importance was primarily as a lynchpin in his London Socialite persona. He loved her family, he loved the friend group, the artistic scene dating her gave him access to, as well as the leg up he got in the class system, etc. He liked to be the kind of guy who was dating Jane Asher. But I don't know that he was the guy who was dating Jane Asher, you get me? When people describe their "great love" they accidentally tell on them (Cynthia innocently describing Paul as being pleased to have her on his arm like a trophy; John: "it was an ordinary love scene"; Alistair Taylor noting that Paul was humiliated by the breakup). Paul's a serial monogamist who U-Hauls like a lesbian, of course, so he definitely took the relationship VERY seriously, but it's telling that all of his love songs to her were either about hitting a brick wall in arguments (certainly not dreamy, fond, yearning of "sunday morning fights about saturday night"; and occasionally expressing hints of class tension too), or completely non-descript Guy With A Guitar Trying To Get Laid shit. I could extrapolate a lot about Linda just from listening to McCartney I/RAM and the Wings discography, but 'And I Love Her' doesn't tell me a single thing about Jane besides that she's pretty. It could be about literally anyone the same way 'My Love' or 'Maybe I'm Amazed' could only be about his dynamic with Linda. Some of this is obviously the natural result of getting older and gaining emotional maturity; what I'm saying is that Paul's behaviour and self-expression in this relationship does not suggest to me that it was one in which his emotional maturity was able to develop or flourish.

I want to stress again that I don't think this belittles the significance of the relationship or makes it "bad" or "fake". Like, sometimes hot people just date for a while in their teens and twenties and love each other without necessarily unlocking their inner emotional cores, usually because they don't know how to. It's, like, fine. You need to experience relationships like that as stepping stones. I simply believe that this sort of front-facing social importance being prime in the romance is a major factor in why it ultimately didn't work (and probably in Linda's reported lingering jealousy of Jane, who wasn't just an ex, but also a symbol of the life Paul ditched to build a new identity w/ her, and sometimes still pined for). With Jane, Paul was dating the "right" kind of girl (didn't put out on the first date, erudite and middle class, as serious about her career as he was, a good "celebrity" match), but the relationship often wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. Francie's observation is that by 1968 it also wasn't doing what he needed it to do either. This is the overwhelming "mood" in her affair with Paul McCartney: that he needed something very badly from a romantic partner that he just was NOT getting, and Francie couldn't figure out what it was either:

(note that she means "queer" as in "mad", not "gay")

This was an EXTREMELY roundabout way of asking: well, what WAS it that Paul needed a relationship to do for him? And I think this is Francie's big, accidental insight. The most scandalous claim in 'Body Count' is that Paul told Francie that he hit Jane and it "turned her on".

I personally think this is p. absurd absent any real proof to back it up, but like, what is Francie actually saying HE'S saying here? If she's exaggerating or lying, she's trying to make it believable within the psychological parameters laid out, right? It's not an expression of some secret desire to dominate women she's accusing him of, but emotional disturbance and confusion at the idea that the woman he was with might like that sort of forceful, masculine violence more than his softer, feminine side, which he was - yeah, we all know it - deeply insecure about.

Regardless of whether specific details are true or false (and I think there's both in this story, all hyper-magnified to make it, y'know, a ~STORY~), I think what might be true is the emotional undertow of the retelling, that this all taken together is actually representative of the side of Paul McCartney she was exposed to, at a time when his public and private facades had both become unbearable to the point of cracking and the drug-fueled optimism of the Summer of Love was getting scrubbed off of everyone and everything. It's the Paul McCartney who eviscerated frogs because he was worried he was too "soft" for compulsory military service. The Paul who modelled his masculine teen behaviour off John Lennon's fake "Marlon Brando" swagger, but was actually more fond of the velvet "Oscar Wilde" interior.

What's SO FASCINATING about all this to me, is I deeply believe that one of the key factors in what makes The Beatles music so unique and compelling is that both the songwriters experienced psychological strain from the tension b/t their parochial socially-defensive "masculine" pride, and their sensitive "feminine" core, the latter of which they were able to express in the unburdened emotionality of their music. The reason I care about doing these totally unhinged psych analyses is because I do think it reveals something about the underpinnings of the music, as well as the reasons why the band was such a hysteria-inducing phenomenon (the rise of psychology, imo, is almost as important as the rise of industrialization as a defining factor of the modern and postmodern eras; mass psychology can be understood and wielded in precise ways, and The Beatles were one of the first empires built on that). The subconscious drives caused by this tension have been ENDLESSLY picked apart re: John's psyche, but Paul's "mirrored" issues are very under-discussed (mostly b/c he's still alive so people are a little more leery about putting him on the "couch" as a historical figure). 'Body Count', intentionally or not, painted a portrait to me of someone who was drowning in their own ill-fitting celebrity "suit", collapsing under the weight of "Being" "Paul McCartney". A guy who desperately needed some sort of space to be vulnerable without feeling emasculated for doing it. By 1968, there was no one in his life anymore - and maybe there hadn't been for a while, or ever - who was giving him this space.

In other words: the thing he needed to avoid going "stark raving queer and killing himself" was simply someone who would love him 'after the ball'.

EDIT: read the comments for further clarification and discussion! ;)

#/#//#///#////#/////#the beatles #mccharmley #analysis #long post #Talking About Paul The Way I Talk About John lmfao #Taking Tabloid Bullshit Seriously #(if not literally)#*gets out my fake spectacles and jumps into the psychiatry armchair*#idk if i laid out my thoughts v well here but i hope it satisfied all the people who asked #i also tried to warn what genre of post it was for those who hate this kinda thing lol #i feel like i have more to say re: how toxic 'The Beatle' facade got for all of them by this point #and paul and john's mirrored post-india breakdowns #but francie's perspective is specifically on how it felt to be the girl he used to divebomb his relationship with jane asher SO

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myherowritings · 4 years

Text

hearts intertwined | t.s.

— You and Todoroki have been roommates for months now but have barely had more than a two minute conversation. When quarantine hits and everyone is on lockdown, you find yourself forced to spend more time with him and actually end up...enjoying it?

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader word count: 3,055 genre: roommate au, pro hero!shouto, fluff warnings: suggestive content, 16+, mc and todo are both mid-20s

a/n: this is written as part of the crackhead sanctuary’s server collab! (pls excuse my server name lmfdkgfdg i have terrible naming skillz) i hope y’all enjoy and pls lmk what u think!! xx sof

In many ways, Todoroki Shouto was the perfect roommate.

He cleaned up after himself, always made an extra serving of food and set it aside for you (though it may only have been because he sucked at measuring out ingredients rather than him intentionally planning on leaving you leftovers), and generally kept his volume to a minimum when entering the apartment at ungodly hours of the night.

There was also the fact that he was the most attractive person you had ever shared a living space with in your life, and seeing him shirtless on his way to his bedroom from the bathroom was a definite bonus.

But despite all that, he was never someone you considered yourself close to.

You needed help paying for rent and expenses and he happened to be a friend of a friend of a friend who was looking for a place in the city to stay. Call it a divine intervention, a gift from the gods, or even fate… But you still wouldn’t consider yourself his friend.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to befriend him--Todoroki seemed like a sweet person. It was more along the lines of neither of you having the time. While you spent most of your day in the lab studying and doing research, Todoroki was always working in his office or out in the field to fulfill his new hero duties.

This quarantine was probably the first opportunity either of you had to be in the same building for more than thirty minutes at a time. Which was why, as the two of you sat side-by-side on the living room sofa, no one knew exactly what to say.

“So, the weather--”

“Looks warm out--”

Both of you opened your mouths and shut them at the same time.

“Sorry,” Todoroki said with a small smile. “You first.”

“I-- Oh… It was nothing,” you managed, clearing your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. “Just trying to make some small talk.”

With a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes, you slowly craned your head away from his view. Who admits they’re trying to make small talk? That breaks all the rules of how to properly talk to someone.

The faint sound of the television playing old infomercials buzzed in the background while you and your roommate sat in silence. You never struggled to talk to him during those brief moments of passing, so why now?

Looking at the screen to pass time, you noticed an outdated commercial of an older Tamagotchi game playing and felt yourself breaking out into a grin.

“Aw, I miss that game!” you cried as you turned to Todoroki with an excited glint in your eye. “Don’t tell anyone, but in elementary school I used to play it in class and since I was such a goody two-shoes, the teacher never suspected a thing.”

He raised an eyebrow in response. “I see we have ourselves a rebel in disguise here.”

“It’s our little secret, though. To everyone else, I am the epitome of innocence.”

You couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze travelled down your body and lingered on where the fabric of your oversized pajama shirt stopped and the expanse of your thigh started.

“Sure. I believe you,” he said in what was almost a teasing tone.

You felt your face growing hot but you paid it no mind.

“As you should,” you sniffed, crossing one leg over the other haughtily. When he chuckled, you turned back to him. “How about you? Are you a secret bad boy who played with his Tamagotchi in the back of class?”

Todoroki shook his head. “I never had one. I actually never even knew what it was until high school, I think.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened. Sure, the hand-held game was marketed to girls, but to never have heard about it through your whole childhood? You weren’t sure how that was possible. “Not even your older sister had one?”

Now, you didn’t know much about his personal life (whether or not he was dating someone, if he slept on the left or the right side of the bed, which leg he put in his pants first, et cetera), but you did pick up on a few things about his siblings from the previous interactions you’ve had with him.

“Not to my knowledge,” he said, looking away thoughtfully. “My father never afforded us such luxuries.”

You frowned. “What about toys like Pokemon? Oh! Or Yu-Gi-Oh cards?”

“Yu-Gi-Oh cards?” repeated Todoroki slowly, as if he was unsure what you were talking about.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. “You never played--? Oh, never mind. How about family games like Twister or Just Dance?”

As far as you were aware, Todoroki Shouto came from a rather affluent family. So it was a wonder why he never participated in at least one of these experiences that characterized a whole generation’s childhood.

Again, he shook his head. “Never did those either. I wasn’t exactly allowed to play with my siblings, let alone other kids my age. My father always made me prioritize my training.”

“That’s not right of him.”

You winced. Of course he never had the opportunity to have a “normal” childhood. How could you be so insensitive? It was no secret Endeavor had a troubled relationship with his family, but you weren’t exactly sure to what extent. You didn’t focus much on the whimsical world of heroes and, ever since you were a child, you know you wanted to pursue the field of research rather than use your quirk. The lives of heroes--even top ranking ones--was something you never paid much attention to. Still, even you have heard some gossip about the estranged Endeavor.

“Sorry for pressing you,” you said, toying with the hem of your shirt. “I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”

He gave you a nonchalant shrug and a small smile to let you know it was okay.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/L/N. You didn’t mean to,” he comforted. “Besides, it’s been a long time. It would be useless to hold a grudge against my father for this long.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Forgiveness, huh? That’s very mature of you, Todoroki. I think I admire you.”

His shoulders moved upward in silent laughter. “Thank you. I admire you, too.”

Ignoring the faint heat you felt in your cheeks, you beamed. “Thanks. Anyway-- You know what I just realized?”

“What?”

“You did not have a childhood.”

While his face remained passive, you could have sworn you saw his eye crinkle in amusement.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” he said in agreement. “My youth was spent quite differently than most.”

You nodded profusely. “Right. And while I don’t think there is anything inherently wrong with that, per se, it could be beneficial to do these things you haven’t had the chance to!”

He examined you curiously as you bounced up from your seat on the sofa with an excited grin. After a few moments of silence, he craned his neck, prompting you for clarification.

“You’re bored on lockdown, I’m bored on lockdown,” you stated matter-of-factly. “What better time to reclaim your childhood than now?”

Todoroki didn’t bother to hide the small smile making its way across his face at your determined words. “Okay, then. Count me in.”

- - - - -

When you decided you wanted to help your new friend Todoroki reclaim his childhood, you expected your days to be full of cute Beanie Babies and Webkinz, as well as the presumed amounts of chaos that followed edible bubbles and candy kits. And while the first few days of the week consisted of that, the tone changed rather drastically when a certain game was introduced. Of all things, what you expected least was to be practically panting on top of Shouto as you braced your muscles and tried not to collapse onto him.

“Left hand, blue,” he called after flicking the spinner.

How he managed to turn the spinner with one hand and keep his body balanced with the other on a Twister mat without toppling over was a mystery to you.

Stupid heroes with their stupid, bulging muscles, you thought crossly as you relived your many previous losses. You tried to ignore the bead of sweat dripping down your face as you struggled to stay up.

Somehow, you turned your head just enough that you had the perfect view of Todoroki’s flexed triceps as he held himself in a modified pushup position of sorts. There was a look of concentration on his face and, while you found his furrowed brows to be rather cute, you still couldn’t help but focus your attention on his arms. He had a lean type of muscle that you thought would feel especially comfortable wrapped around your waist--

“Y/L/N, do you forfeit?”

You blinked, feeling lightheaded both from this game which you lacked the stamina for and from the lack of oxygen that travelled to your brain as you held your breath while staring at Todoroki.

Once your mind processed his words, you huffed. “Forfeit! Me? Never! Why would you think that?”

“Because I called ‘left hand, blue,’ minutes ago and you still haven’t moved.”

Blood rushed to your face and you were thankful you had the exertion to blame it on. It wasn’t your fault Todoroki’s arms were so toned and strong and...distracting.

“No,” you said, unsure if there was even a question asked for you to reply to. “I don’t quit!”

Your eyes scanned the mat feverishly, looking for a blue circle to place your left hand on that would cause the least amount of strain. Shouto had already won the first two rounds and you’d be damned if you were to let him win again. (As much as you loved witnessing him succeed, your pride would simply be too hurt if you lost a third time in a row.)

“Find a spot yet?” he asked in amusement. “I’m not sure how much longer my arms can hold.”

Of course, just the mention of his arms drew your attention from finding the optimal Twister position to staring stupidly at his triceps again.

As you attempted to tear your gaze away from him, you spotted hints of a smirk lingering on Todoroki’s face.

Did he notice your staring? There was no way…

You looked at him, wide-eyed and dubious, and almost choked when you saw his shoulders start to shake as he tried to hide his laughter.

His laugh was muffled by his shirt in an attempt to keep his volume down, but it still rang rich and deep in the air. It was the first time you heard him laugh like that and you wanted to do anything to hear it again.

With a shake of his head, he removed his hands from their spot on the Twister board and sat upright beside you.

“I concede,” he said when he saw you eyeing him with curiosity. “You win this round. My arms were getting too sore.”

After hearing the sweet sound of Todoroki saying, “You win,” you let yourself collapse on the floor, rolling onto your back to get a clear view of your cream-colored ceiling.

“For some reason, I sincerely doubt that your arms were getting sore,” you said, stretching your own--genuinely sore--arms out in front of you. “But seeing as I was about to fall flat on my face if I waited any longer… Thank you for conceding.”

“Doubt I’d be sore?” he repeated, craning his neck to peer down at your face. He placed his left hand on his right bicep and gently massaged it with his thumb and forefinger. “What for?”

By then, whatever rational thought was left in your brain had been fully replaced by Shouto’s arms and Shouto’s arms only, and you couldn’t even complain.

“Mmm, what did you say again?” You blinked, clearing your throat. You suddenly had the desire to chug a cool glass of water.

Todoroki’s only reply was another small--almost imperceptible--smirk. It would have been easy for someone to miss, but to you, someone who was perhaps being more attentive to their roommate and newfound friend than they’d care to admit, it was clear as day.

“You’re totally messing with me!” you groaned, covering your face with your hands as you continued to lie with your back on the floor. “Aren’t you?”

He let out a breathy laugh and shrugged, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. “Sorry. It’s just cute seeing your reactions. I didn’t know you liked my arms so much.”

You could’ve sworn he flexed once more for dramatic effect and an indignant squeak escaped your mouth.

“I-I don’t!” you protested, making sure to look anywhere but his arms. “I just never noticed how...proportionate they were before! Just thinking about how da Vinci would admire them. For scientific purposes, of course.”

“Sure.”

You gaped at the knowing look on his face. “How did you even notice? Aren’t you a bit of the oblivious type?” With wide eyes, you slapped your hand over your mouth. “Wait-- I’m sorry. That was rude to say.”

Todoroki waved it off with a smile to show he wasn’t offended in the slightest. “I guess I was rather oblivious in the beginning of high school. But as I grew up I became more accustomed to picking up on such things.”

You hummed in silent contemplation. Of course he had to have grown used to people making moon eyes over him. He probably got it all the time.

“I usually pay it no mind,” he continued as he stood up, peering down at you sprawled out on the floor. “But when you do it, I find it sort of cute.”

As if he didn’t just say something that caused your heart to skip a beat, Todoroki extended a hand out to help you up.

Ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks, you gently placed your hand in his.

“Thanks,” you murmured as Shouto pulled you off the mat and towards his body, a feeling of lightheadedness overcoming you at the sudden motion.

One hand held yours while his other was placed firmly above your elbow to help you steady yourself.

“You okay, Y/L/N?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he watched you regain your balance.

“Oh, yeah! No worries. This happens all the time, to be honest,” you admitted, vaguely taking note of how your chest was almost fully pressed against his. “Whenever I move my head too fast I get a bit dizzy. And whenever I stand too fast my knees sort of just crack.”

Your words did nothing to soothe the worried furrow between his brows.

“Is...Is that not normal?”

He blinked.

You grimaced. “Okay. Guess not. Maybe I need to work out more.”

“You can work out indoors with me,” Todoroki suggested with a small smile. He looked so sincere you were just about to agree until he opened his mouth for a second time-- “As long as you don’t spend the whole workout gawking at my arms.”

With an indignant cry, you pulled yourself away from his loose grip, face burning with such intensity you wouldn’t be surprised if he were able to sense the rise in temperature. “I never gawked at your arms.”

He hummed.

“Well, okay, maybe I did,” you relented with a huff, bending down to fold up the game mat in front of you. “They look very strong. Being a hero must be hard work.”

Todoroki shrugged, helping you clean up. “It’s worth the toll it takes. I can imagine your research requires hard work too.”

You tried to hide the look of surprise on your face. You briefly talked to him about what you did during the roommate-finding process, but you didn’t think it was anything interesting enough for him to recall. It brought an odd warmth to your stomach knowing he cared enough to remember.

“I guess. But I’d say it’s nowhere near as difficult as hero work,” you brushed off. “Not everyone has what it takes to be a good hero.”

A faint blush colored his cheeks as he followed you into the kitchen for a glass of water.

“There are lots of great heroes,” he stated, filling up two cups and handing one to you.

“Yeah, there are. And greatness is one thing, but you’re a good one-- In the heart.” Your gaze flitted to his, unsure why you were filled with the sudden urge to have such an intimate conversation after a game of Twister. Still, you rolled with it. “I know we haven’t talked much prior to this lockdown...but even I can tell how caring you are. And I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.”

A comfortable silence filled the air as he took a seat beside you. If Shouto was taken aback by your sudden compliment, he did a good job at hiding it, simply giving you a small smile as he let his shoulder rest against yours. You glanced over at the point of contact and bubbled with elation.

“Todoroki?” you called quietly, the edge of your pinky brushing against his.

He looked down at the gentle touch of your hand and didn’t move away. Instead, he took the initiative and placed his fingers on top of yours, his hand surprisingly soft despite the calluses on his fingertips. The back of your neck heated at the sudden movement, but you decided you rather liked how his hands felt on yours.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for letting me drag you along to play these childhood games,” you said, letting out a sigh of contentment. “It’s a nice change of pace while we’re stuck indoors.”

Shouto shook his head. “I should be the one thanking you. These are much better childhood memories than the ones from my actual childhood,” he admitted with a light laugh. “I’m glad we had the opportunity to spend more time together, Y/L/N.”

By now your fingers were intertwined with his, his thumb lightly stroking the peak of your knuckle.

He continued, “I hope this continues even when quarantine is over.”

“I hope it does, too.” You couldn’t stop the grin from spreading wide across your face as you nuzzled your head on his shoulder. “Let’s keep making memories together, okay, Todoroki?”

“Happily.”

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streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Something About You

Summary: He has been going on dates, meeting new people online, wanting to find the girl of his dreams. But so far, all of them whom he met either have nothing in common with him or has a lot of common interest except cats. He has 3 cats so he could never imagine dating someone who would never get along with his cats. Turns out, the girl he has been dreaming about happens to be a lot closer than he think.

Theme: University au, partial strangers to friends to lovers

Genre: Fluffy fluff

WC: 4.2k

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! I’m back with a new fic. Hope you enjoy!

“So, how was your date?” Chan asked his roommate who had just entered their shared apartment looking just as tired and done as his pet cats. The boy simply frowned, kicking off his shoes and went straight to their living room only to crash on the couch next to where the older boy was seated with his laptop in his lap, probably just composing new tracks.

“Horrible. Probably won’t be getting back to her anytime soon.” Minho shrugged before taking out his phone only to scroll through YouTube of cat videos.

Just then, a soft meow came from below his feet only for Soonie to hop into Minho’s lap and purred when he stroked its head to its tail in a loving motion. Chan let out a soft chuckle. He had a hunch on why this date didn’t work out just like the rest of Minho’s date.

“Was she another one of those girls who are scared of cats?” Chan asked but Minho’s face turned into a scowl.

“Worse. Can you believe she actually kicked the poor kitty away when all it wanted was a pet from her? God, how can some people be so awful?!” Minho grunted in annoyance, making Chan gasp in shock.

He has heard about all Minho’s past dates being scared of cats and sometimes even running away from them but never did he think someone would actually harm the poor animal.

“Geez, yeah, she is definitely out of your list then.”

“Tell me about it.” Minho rolled his eyes as he got up to take a warm shower after a terrible first date.

The next morning, Y/N got woken up by her blaring alarm that has been going off for the past 5 minutes. Her morning lecture was in an hour but her roommate and also her close friend, Sana had already left since she had classes slightly earlier. She forced herself out of bed, only to shower and change into a comfortable outfit that was campus appropriate.

She managed to stop by the café right outside her apartment to get her morning dose of caffeine before walking to campus that was conveniently 20 minutes away from where they lived.

Y/N arrived on campus 5 minutes before her first class, making her way straight to class on the opposite side of the back entrance. Y/N was a CS major while Sana was a Psych major, hence the different schedules. She wasn’t really an outgoing type of girl, but she’s not exactly an introvert either.

Y/N has never been the one to start a random conversation with someone first. But, once she feels comfortable with a person, she can joke and chat for hours and never get tired of it.

She was a shy yet friendly girl at the same time and that’s what makes Sana befriend her so easily.

Above else, Y/N was a very sporty girl and she loved playing netball. Hence, the reason why she was the Team Captain of Konkuk U girl’s netball team. Sana wasn’t in the sport but she always came down to support her best friend if they had any tournaments for that season. Hours passed and Y/N had just finished her classes, only to receive a text from Sana, telling her to meet at the cafeteria.

Y/N entered the cafeteria hall with her laptop in one hand and her phone in the other, just scrolling through her twitter when she came to a stop at the entrance to try and find her friend.

When she spotted her blonde haired roommate standing by a table where there were at least 8 guys seated at, she knew it was Sana’s best guy friend.

Y/N walked as her eyes were trained to her phone screen but her feet brought her exactly to where Sana was. She didn’t realise where she was walking until she heard Sana’s adorable voice calling out her name.

“Y/N!”

The said girl froze in her spot, seeing that she was just 2 feet away from her and the guys.

Y/N simply smiled, proceeding to join Sana by the side of the table, only for her eyes to naturally travel to the people seated at the table. If she could admit, she was currently staring at two rows of handsome looking guys.

“Babe! This is my best friend I told you about! This is Chan. Chan, this is my roommate and best friend, Y/N!” Sana introduced them to each other, only for Chan to smile. He stuck his hand out, making Y/N shake it gently.

“Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you!” Chan said as a smile appeared on his face.

“Hey, nice to meet you too.” Y/N mimicked his expression, something she normally did when she just met someone.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just shy!” Sana explained and some of the boys found themselves smiling at this remark. Just then, Y/N’s eyes seemed to find it’s own way towards Minho who was seated at the very end of the table. Of course she doesn’t know him, but he did attract her eye for being quite cute. Probably even cuter than the others.

“Okay guys, I’ll see you later. Y/N let’s go! I’m starving!” Sana giggled as she bid the boys goodbye before linking her arms with her roommate and soon dragged her down the cafeteria aisle.

“You didn’t tell us your best friend’s friend is cute too?!” Jisung said, causing Chan to shrug.

“Sorry guys, cause I didn’t know either.” Chan teased, making Jisung roll his eyes but a small chuckle left his lips right after.

A few weeks passed and as expected, Y/N often rejected Sana’s offer of joining her to hang out with the guys not because she didn’t like them. It was because she was shy and Sana of course understood this but she never pressed on it. Instead, she gave Y/N the chance to willingly join if she wanted to without any pressure.

However, it was a Thursday late afternoon and the girl’s netball team was having a tournament that day. As promised, Sana came down to support Y/N and her team. Except this time, she made sure to tag all the boys along and they came without a single doubt.

Y/N was just doing her warm up when she glanced over to the bleachers, that’s when she saw Sana and the rest of the guys on the fourth and fifth rows of the bleachers.

Y/N didn’t know why but she found herself instantly smiling when she saw that they came down to support her. Just then, Sana happened to look over and she locked eyes with Y/N, making her wave her hand up high as she let out a soft giggle.

She responded back with a small wave while some of the guys did the same.

Right at that moment, she locked eyes with Minho who was seated in the seat just below Sana. For some reason, she could feel her heartbeat speeding up in her chest.

Almost an hour later, it’s the final round and it was between Konkuk U and Sogang U. Y/N currently sat on the ground beside the bench where her team members were seated.

“Alright girls. I have a lot of faith in you guys but let’s switch some of you so that you guys get to participate in the games fair and square.” Y/N announced to her teammates who then nodded, waiting for her next command. After switching 3 of the players and Y/N was satisfied with this, the 7 players soon cheered before going to the court.

The game started and it already got pretty intense.

Sogang U was winning by a thread but Y/N tried to keep the game in their court. Right when Yeri was about to toss the ball towards Y/N who was sprinting forwards, a member from the Sogang team forcefully threw themselves against her form.

Y/N practically got thrown across the court when she crashed onto the ground with an awful loud thud before she slid to a stop.

At the fall, she managed to hit her head on the ground from the impact, causing her to go lightheaded for a brief moment. A series of gasps were heard from the crowd, watching her press her forehead against the ground as a hiss left her lips.

The girl who shoved her, only smirked before they continued the game.

“Oh no…” Sana whispered as they stared at Y/N’s limp body. Just then, Yeri ran to her team captain, only for her to gasp asking if she wanted to swap with anyone on the team. Y/N brushed her off when Yeri helped her up, only to hear that Sogang U scored another point.

She rubbed her temple slightly, wincing in pain but nonetheless told Yeri that she was okay. Just then, their coach shouted at Y/N to swap with Irene but Y/N gave him a shake of her head followed by an ‘okay’ sign and soon resumed the game. Her friends watched anxiously as Minho couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

“Why won’t you just rest?” He whispered under his breath when he saw her jog to get the ball.

A few moments later, the same opponent from Sogang U targeted Y/N again, pushing Y/N by her shoulders. Y/N almost lost her balance but she swiftly threw the ball over their heads, towards Lisa on the other side of the court.

The girl snarled at Y/N but she gave the girl a soft smirk before raising an eyebrow up to taunt her.

A few runs later, the girl purposely tripped Y/N, making her accidentally fall backwards with her ass hitting the ground hard. Y/N glared at the girl, only to hear a few seconds later that Konkuk U was taking the victory trophy.

The girls were just walking back to their side of the hall when somebody roughly turned her around and threw a snarky remark to her and her team.

“Better luck next time, when I actually get you on the bench. That way my team for sure can win that trophy.” The girl said before she gave Y/N’s cheek a few slaps. Y/N’s friends who saw this were furious as Chan and Felix practically had to hold Sana back. Y/N scoffed, watching the girls of Sogang U continue walking while Y/N’s teammates comforted her, telling her it’s okay.

Once everyone in the bleachers were leaving, Y/N was just wiping her neck from the sweat when Sana came running to her with her arms open. Sana gave her a few words of comfort, telling her not to be too affected by whatever that girl said. After the tournament was over and their coach had dismissed them, she took her duffle bag. They were walking towards the entrance of the hall when her vision suddenly went black and her head was pounding.

A soft groan left her lips when she nearly collapsed down to the left side but someone was quick to catch her and it was Minho. He wrapped an arm around her waist while the other hand reached for her forearm that was clutching onto her head.

“Woah. Are you okay?” His voice soft, laced with obvious worry.

Y/N nodded, letting Sana help Minho hold her as they each held her on either side. Outside the campus’ back entrance, Minho asked if Y/N was strong enough to walk back to her apartment with Sana alone and she said yes.

Sana told the boys she would update them if anything happened along the way. But the girls ended up going home safely, only for her to recover in just two days.

A week passed and it was a Saturday night, where Sana told Y/N she would be out with her boyfriend. Y/N decided to head to a nearby library to study since the campus was closed on weekends. It was already nearing 10pm, probably the reason why she kept yawning every 5 minutes.

“Maybe I should head home.” She thought as she began to slowly pack her bags and soon left.

The boys on the other hand had just finished checking out the new steakhouse downtown. Simply hanging out without having alcohol involved.

They were just walking down the dimly lit street, their voices were probably the only audible sounds currently apart from the cars driving past every few minutes. The street was quite empty, they could literally count with their fingers on how many people they’ve passed by.

They were just talking about some soccer league when Minho’s eyes travelled towards the alley down the road, only to see a girl petting what looks to be a stray cat.

His eyes lit up as a smile tugged on his lips.

He has never seen anyone openly pet a stray cat around this area before so he was quite surprised to say the least. Nevertheless, he smiled brightly as he quickened his pace, telling the boys to meet up with him at that alley where the cat and unknown girl was.

Minho briskly walked towards the alley, only to be met with a very familiar face.

“Y/N?”

At the mention of her name, she turned to look up towards the guy standing by the sidewalk, currently looking down at her just gently scratching the cat’s ears.

“Minho? Hey…” She smiled and she could feel her heartbeat pick up speed.

“What are you doing out here at this late timing alone?” He asked, genuinely worried.

“I was at the library studying. I‘m on my way home actually.” She admitted, only to feel her cheeks heat up. Just then, she heard Chan’s voice from behind her, making her turn around.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Chan asked, making her giggle with a nod.

“Where were you headed?” He asked.

But before she could answer, a soft meow echoed down the street as the cat pressed it’s head into Y/N’s open hands, making her giggle.

This small gesture was enough to make the boys smile, and maybe Minho’s heart to flutter.

“I actually just told Minho that I was about to head home from the library, when this adorable little one just started following me from down the block and I don’t think it’s gonna leave my side anytime soon.” Y/N said with a soft sigh. The cat meowed yet again as though responding to her.

Minho tilted his head to the side in confusion upon hearing her sigh when she looked down at the pretty brown fur ball before scratching the side of the cat’s face again.

“As much as you’re super adorable, I can’t take you home with me, baby.” Her voice was soft. The cat simply purred with soft round eyes staring back at her. Her words came as a shock to some of them but curious to the remaining.

“Wait, why can’t you?” Minho asked.

“I’m actually sensitive to cats.” She confessed, only for Minho’s heart to blossom. She’s sensitive to cats and yet she still pets them and even showers them with love? Where has she been all his life?

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it bad though?” Hyunjin asked, only for her to shake her head.

“I can touch them, but if I stay too long in an enclosed area with them, my skin will start to get red and itchy, and my nose would start to get runny.” Y/N said pressing her lips in a thin line, making the guys nod, feeling bad for her.

Just then, Minho squats down beside her figure only to stretch his arm over to pet the cat and the little fur ball just willingly went over to him. The cat rubs its face against Minho’s knees and thighs. Y/N couldn’t help but smile when she saw just how equally loving he was towards it. At that very moment, Minho just happened to look up only to catch her looking at him.

A small little bubble burst in the pit of his stomach as she soon tickled the cat’s lower back, making it go to her.

Y/N giggled when the cat stood on its hind legs, pressing its two front paws on her collarbone, making her laugh. Y/N cupped the fur ball’s face and soon caressed it sweetly before she nuzzled her nose against the cat’s pink ones, only for the cat to meow in her face.

“Looks like it really loves you Y/N.” Chan said, making her laugh.

However, her smile was soon wiped off and a soft frown appeared on her face. But this didn’t go unnoticed by Minho. So he suggested something quite smart.

“I have an idea. We’ll distract it while you quickly head back home. You know? To avoid it from following you?” Minho said, making the rest of them nod in agreement. She stared at the cat for slightly too long before she locked eyes with Minho, only for her to mouth to him softly.

“Thank you.”

With that being said, the rest of the boys slowly began to huddle around the cat while Y/N carefully got up and tiptoed her way down the street in the direction of her apartment.

She glanced back when she was reaching the traffic junction, only to catch Minho staring at her with a very soft expression. After she finally turned the corner, Changbin couldn’t help but speak up while the rest were busy pouring their attention on the cat.

“Damn, she’s pretty, she’s a team captain, she’s nice, AND she loves cats even though she’s allergic to it? I think you’ve found your match made in heaven, hyung.” He ended with his usual smirk, wiggling his eyebrows to Minho only for the elder boy to huff although he knew deep down that what Changbin said was right.

Y/N went home that night only to find her mind going back to when Minho looked so in love with the cat. Why did that make him look so… so endearing?

She smiled to herself thinking about how happy he looked when the cat was practically smearing its scent all over him. Y/N simply shook her head off of the thoughts and soon took a fresh shower before heading to bed, with Sana still nowhere to be seen.

Ever since that night, Y/N slowly began to warm up with the guys more. Especially Minho since it seemed as though they could literally talk about cats for hours. She found out later that he owned 3 cats in his shared apartment with Chan and that they were basically his children. She couldn’t help but laugh despite finding that extremely cute.

Y/N was added to their group chat which had the boys and Sana in it, only for her to exchange numbers with Minho as well. It has been 3 months since they’ve gotten closer and needless to say, Minho started to fall for her as the days go by and so did she.

It was currently a Saturday evening and both her and Sana got invited to Chan’s place to just hangout and chill, in which the girls agreed without a second thought.

Y/N wore her denim ripped skinny jeans, a shirt tucked in, a black jacket and her converse. Sana wore an open shoulder dress and a pair of vans since she was just a very girly girl compared to Y/N.

They arrived at Chan’s shared apartment, only for her to find out that Minho had kept his cats in his room. Something he doesn’t do whenever any of them come over.

Perhaps he cared for her and he didn’t want her to get sick for coming to their house.

Despite the teasing coming from his friends, he simply ignored them. He brushed them off by saying that he was just trying to be nice. When the girls entered the apartment, immediately, Y/N could already feel her nose being tickled by the atmosphere thanks to the cats living in that space.

But it wasn’t too serious yet but still, a small sneeze left her lips.

They greeted the guys who were in the living room when Minho came out of his room in just grey sweatpants, a tank top and his cutely tousled hair.

As soon as Minho locked eyes with Y/N, he froze in his spot. He saw the small smile on her face, making him shy all of a sudden. A few minutes later, they were all just gathered in the living room when Y/N turned to Minho who was seated on the floor beside her feet.

“Min ah, where’s your cats?” She asked. Minho felt himself tense up at the nickname but quickly regained himself.

“They’re in my room. Why? You wanna see them?” He asked, not realizing that some of them were actually watching them from their respective seats discreetly. Y/N smiled as she gave him a cute little nod. He could’ve sworn his heart jumped out of his chest for a bit. Nonetheless, he brought her to his closed bedroom only to push the door open and was instantly greeted by the soft jingle sounds of their collars.

Y/N smiled as 2 of the fur balls ran up to Minho and her. Making him quickly close the door behind him. Both of them kneeled down onto the ground when the dark grey cat began to nuzzle against her legs, while the light golden one hopped into Minho’s arms effortlessly.

“They’re so cute! What are their names?” She asked as she scratched the grey cat behind its ear, earning a soft purr from it.

“The one in your lap is Dori. This is Soonie. And that sleeping one is Doongie.” Minho introduced when he heard a soft squeak from her in excitement, causing him to chuckle. A blush crept onto his cheeks.

“How long have you had them for?” She asked curiously as Dori snuggled into her chest, making her pout.

“I’ve had them since I was young. When I went off to college, I told my parents I wanted to bring them with me. So, here we are.” Minho said, making her giggle thinking that his story was very cute.

Just then, Dori licked the tip of Y/N’s nose, catching her off guard.

She let out a soft giggle, turning her head towards Minho with her eyes crinkled shut. He found this extremely cute. When she fluttered her eyelids back open, she was met with him staring at her with a warm smile on his face.

She got shy so she turned to look back down at Dori, scratching the back of its ear. Soonie left Minho’s lap as he turned to her and Dori, only for him to give a few scratches to Dori’s head. Just then, Minho leaned in to rub his face into Dori’s body. Y/N giggled, watching him interact with his own pet.

Just then, he pulled away from Dori, taking this chance to turn his head towards her.

But for some reason, it felt like a mistake with how close their faces were from each other. It was almost as if they could feel each other’s breath fanning their lips and unfortunately for them, it was true. The room fell silent as nobody dared to say a word.

For some odd reason, Minho felt brave enough to actually lean in closer.

Y/N watched very carefully as he closed the gap until she could feel his lips brushing against hers very lightly. At that very second, she closed her eyes, afraid to continue looking. Minho saw this and he began to smile, thinking she was adorable.

So he decided not to dwell on this and instead, he firmly pressed his lips on hers. Her breath hitched in her throat. She soon found herself melting against his lips. Minho’s arm found its way around her waist as he pulled her closer, until she could feel Dori jump out of her lap.

She pulled away when her stomach got pressed by Dori’s paws when it leaped off, causing him to chuckle.

“Sorry about that.” He apologized, only for her to smile.

“It’s fine.” She said with a soft little smile, only for him to blush as he kissed her again, this time reaching up to cup her face in his hand. Her heart was racing against her chest when he felt her rest her hands on his chest. Minho pulled away, having to force himself not to get too intoxicated by her soft, crème brûlée tasting lips thanks to her lip balm.

“Can I take you out on a date tomorrow?” He asked, only for her to giggle.

“Will you bring me to see your babies again?” She said.

“That depends.” He teased, making her laugh as he soon did the same. She smiled against his lips when she kissed him again, feeling extremely happy. They came back out to find the rest of them smirking. They asked why the two of them were taking their own sweet time in there, only for Minho to smirk.

“Maybe because I’m going on a date with the cutest, sweetest girl I’ve ever met who loves cats as much as I do?” Minho said, only for the rest of them to cheer happily for the new couple. Y/N blushed as she hid her face in Minho’s arm, causing him to chuckle but he simply hugged her and kissed her forehead endearingly.

Looks like he managed to find the girl of his dreams anyway.

#stray kids #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee know fluff #lee minho fluff #lee know scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz lee know #skz minho fluff #skz x reader #skz minho #lee minho scenarios

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shadowsinger11 · 4 years

Text

You, The Stars And I

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k (oops)

Requested by @amira3113: Can I request a fic abt the reader seeing Fred and George comforting a kid after Umbridge punished him and the reader helps them and Fred thinks it's so cute what she is doing and she does the same and extra mega fluff, pls?🥺 you don't gotta do it if u don't want to btw.. so no pressure ;)

Warnings: A bit more angst than intended, Fred being a soft boi™️

A/N: I don't know how to feel, I just roasted myself hardcore with this and I'm feeling even more single. I'm sorry for not being able to use a 'keep reading' tab

Masterlist

The sun fell asleep behind the endless hills, enveloped by dense, opaque darkness. Its golden rays no longer shone through the wide windows of the castle and instead let shadows creep into the long, empty hallways, revealing the ugly truth about what the school had turned into over the past few months.

The naked walls stood tall, towering over you and inching closer with every step you took, and you hung your head low, aiming to block out the singular buzzing thought in your head.

Hogwarts was no longer home.

Your heart ached at the memory of hundreds of students chattering and laughing all day long, freely walking around the school grounds and simply being children. You so terribly missed being careless and having fun without the fear of potentially facing a life-threatening punishment.

But now there was no laughter, only your footsteps echoed in the hallway.

You were headed straight to your common room, determined to go to sleep early. The curfew and the dozens of new restrictions prevented you from meeting your friends, and you hoped that sleep would at least somehow distract you from your worries for a couple of hours.

The deafening silence nearly caused you to miss the muffled sobs and quiet whispering, coming from a turn not far away. It seemed as though there were more than one voice speaking, and your chest clenched with dread.

You hurried your pace until you reached the source of the noise, and peeked from behind the wall.

The sight most definitely surprised you, but the pain in your chest only sharpened.

There, on a bench, Fred and George were sitting, hunched over a small boy, probably no older than a second year. You could tell by his green robes which house he was in, but his red, tear-stained face was what alarmed you.

You immediately approached him and fell to your knees. George was on his left, rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back, while Fred was on the other side, holding his small hand in his, on the back of which a few words glistened with fresh crimson blood.

I must not ask questions.

You sent the twins a questioning look, but Fred dismissed it by shaking his head; clearly that was not the time for an explanation, nor was one necessary to begin with.

You placed a hand on the boy's knee to make your presence known.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

This only caused the child to sob harder and you internally cursed for having to go through this routine.

"It hurts…" he whimpered, "I thought Hogwarts was fun. I met friends last year and it was great. But now… Now I really want to go home."

Your jaw clenched and you swallowed hard, furious about seeing innocent children slowly losing faith and joy in life, turning into hollow shells of the amazing people they could have grown to become.

The horrifying experience would inevitably have a massive impact on them and unexplainable guilt twisted your stomach. And even though the long-term damage had already been done, you could at least take care of the temporary pain.

"It's not going to hurt for long, I promise," Fred whispered, tenderly playing with the boy's trembling fingers. "Ours are already fading."

"That's true, see?" George showed the back of his hand on which you could make out the faint, bloody words 'I must not cause trouble.', and you felt sick. "Soon you won't even remember it was there."

Tears stung in your eyes, but before you gave them a chance to fall, you turned to the redheads.

"I can heal the wound. Well, to an extent. If anything, I can lessen the pain," you began. "But I need to grab something from the Charms classroom."

Fred frowned, confused, "Wouldn't you need a potion for that? Why Charms?"

"Snape isn't the only one armored with potions for just in case things go wrong. And we can't risk going to the dungeons at this hour. It's not wise to tell Madam Pomfrey yet either."

The twins nodded. George said.

"It's not a good idea for all of us to go at once. I suggest one of us returns and covers the others up if necessary."

"I'll go with her," Fred stated without a second thought. "I can get them safely where they need to be, let her do her thing and bring them back."

Fred's eagerness to help filled you with warmth and for once that night you had the strength to smile, even for just a second.

"That sounds like plan then. But you should really take the map," George added, already pulling out the neatly folded Marauder's Map from his backpack. "Don't wanna risk getting caught by the ugly toad, you know."

"As if she'd be strolling down the hallways late at night. Doesn't she have hobbies?"

"Does hanging creepy pictures of cats on pink walls count as such?" you commented and the second year giggled, which made you feel slightly better as well.

Fred took the map from George and you grabbed the boy's hand.

"Good luck, guys. And, like, don't die."

"Woah, greatly encouraging, Georgie," you replied sarcastically, but appreciated it nonetheless. "You sure you'll be fine?"

"Absolutely. I got the route memorized like the back of my hand. I'll be careful."

And with that, George headed towards the Gryffindor Tower while you, Fred and the boy went in the opposite direction - the East Towers.

The night was eerily quiet, only the footsteps and shuddering breaths of the three of you keeping you sane. The soft light, gleaming at the tip of your wands, didn't do much to brighten the empty hallways which now seemed like endless voids of darkness.

Occasionally Fred would warn you about Filch's cat approaching, or Peeves causing trouble nearby, but fortunately, you reached the classroom sooner than expected.

"Alohomora," you whispered, but the door didn't bulge when you tried to open it.

Fred grinned, "Surely a Charms professor wouldn't let such a cliché unlock his own classroom."

"Shut up," you grumbled. "Aberto!"

The door opened. Fred's eyes widened in amusement and you flashed him a charming smile on your way in.

You placed the boy to sit on a desk as you and your friend rushed to look through drawers and chests for something useful. Most of them were full of basic items such as old books and quills, half-full jars of salamander blood, pearl dust and gillyweed, and after long fifteen minutes of not having found anything, you slid your back down against the wall, sighing in frustration.

Sleep-deprivation was kicking in, but your anxiety was getting stronger.

You needed to do something. Fast.

"What about this chest right here?" Fred asked from the other side of the classroom, pointing at something under Flitwick's desk.

You shook your head, "Doesn't open, already tried. Even if the cure is there, we can't get it."

"I take it your brilliant spells don't work anymore?" the redhead teased and you so badly wished to slap away the cocky smirk on his face. Or kiss it. There was something oddly attractive about the way he'd set your nerves on fire, and you hated yourself for enjoying it. Fred seemed to love it too.

"If you're only here to be annoying, just leave."

"I'm here to help too. I can multitask."

You nearly jumped from the ground to strangle him, and he clearly saw through your intentions because his toothy grin almost split his face in two. That bastard.

That super annoying, devilishly handsome bastard.

"Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you coming? Not that I mind the attention," he shrugged.

You rose to your feet and made your way over to where he was standing, not granting him the pleasure of facing him, "Don't flatter yourself, Weasley. Your stupidity is simply impossible to be unnoticed."

Fred laughed, "Oh, so I was annoying and now I'm stupid too? Make up your mind, woman."

You pulled out your wand and smirked at him over your shoulder.

"You said it yourself that you can multitask. Aberto!"

Nothing.

Fred squinted his eyes as he stared at the wooden chest. What spell could the professor have possibly used? Could you have even heard of it? The chances of ever finding the precious item were becoming grimmer with each passing second and the inevitable sense of dread had started to settle in.

After a minute Fred finally spoke.

"I think your problem is that you're using spells that only work on doors. You need a charm which unlocks containers."

"You might be right. What would that be then?" you enquired, glancing at the redhead. He took his own wand out of his robes.

"I know a spell that's come in handy before. Hopefully it will work now," he wettened his lips and said. "Cistem Aperio!"

Blinding light caused you to cover you eyes, and the chest opened with a loud thud which could have easily alerted the entire floor of your presence if it wasn't for the silencing charm you were lucky to have used when you first entered the classroom.

You finally dared to open your eyes and kneeled on the ground, carefully rummaging through fancy-looking boxes and vials sparking with liquids that seemed to be quite important.

"What are we looking for?" Fred asked as he crouched next to you.

"Wound-Cleaning Potion. Purple."

It was weird having Fred stand this close to you; sparks of electricity would pierce your heart every time his shoulder brushed against yours, or his fingers would accidentally graze yours. And when they did, they had you longing more and more for their touch, for their warmth.

But this warmth did not belong to you.

You swallowed down the disappointment and instead attempted to focus on the task at hand.

Just as you had expected, the precious crystal bottle was carefully wrapped in sparkling cloth and placed inside a box that was hidden deep in the corner of the chest. You breathed a sigh of relief and got on your feet, determined to stay away from Fred. For his sake and yours.

"Here it is," you smiled at the boy as you walked over to him. "Fred, can you get me some bandages from the drawer in the back?" you asked, pointing right behind him, and he did as he was told.

You took the hand of the young Slytherin and examined it closely - the wound was sure to leave a nasty scar, one that would never heal.

"Can you make it disappear?" he asked, fearfully.

Your heart dropped. But you replied with all the courage you could muster.

"I can try."

Fred was soon by your side and placed the medical items on the desk; a half-full packet of cotton, some bandages and a small box of bandaids. You muttered a 'thanks', not even looking at him, and opened the middle-sized bottle. It spread a characteristic smell of ashes, mint and lemon when you lifted it towards your nose - it was ready to use.

"So what now?" Fred asked.

Not granting him a reply, you simply took a small piece of the cotton and dipped the opening of the bottle into it, soaking it with a generous amount of the purple, dense liquid. The smell grew stronger.

Fred could only watch as you yet again gently grabbed the boy's hand and carefully dabbed the back of it; a thin steam of smoke soared from the contact of wet cotton and wounded flesh, purple mixing with red, and the kid hissed in pain. You worked attentively but quickly, with measured gestures and a straight face, and you missed the way Fred's eyes seemed to soften at the sight of you helping a small kid.

But one thing baffled him - why did you suddenly start acting so emotionless? Even towards the youngling who didn't know a thing. And though your expression seemed calm and collected, the Gryffindor noticed your tensed jaw.

What he wasn't aware of, however, was the racing speed of you heart, increasing each second. He wasn't aware of the short, shallow breaths you were taking because if you had allowed yourself to breathe freely, you'd certainly let out tears along with the deeps sighs.

Every move was calculated, every word and breath.

You pressed a fresh piece of cotton against the now cleaned wound and kept it there as you began to roll the bandage over it, securing it in place. When you were done, you placed a gentle, lingering kiss on the hand.

"There. It should do the trick."

The boy's face lit up and he hugged you, not giving you another choice but to wrap your arms around his small body. At least you had managed to bring him back some of the lost warmth.

"We should get him to his dorm," you told Fred and despite not facing him, he knew the words were directed towards him. That still didn't prevent the stinging pain in his chest from being so effortlessly avoided by you, and he frowned, bewildered by your unexpected coldness towards him.

Had he accidentally done anything to upset you? Were you mad at him? What for?

The boy jumped to his feet, visibly less burdened despite the present tear stains on his puffy cheeks. You hoped he'd be able to get some sleep that night regardless of the circumstances.

The three of you left the classroom as quietly as you had entered it and went in the direction of the dungeons. Fred, as usual, did his job at looking at the map and keeping track of the names, moving on the yellow-ish piece to old parchment.

Fortunately, you reached the Slytherin common room without any disturbances along the way, and the boy went inside, eager to crawl into bed and not think about the ugly lady who had punished him so unfairly just a few hours ago.

The door closed without a sound, leaving you and Fred on your own.

His soft voice broke the burdening silence.

"Are you going to bed?"

If you were being honest, you hadn't even thought about sleep during your secret adventure and though your body was on the verge of giving out, your restless mind was sure to wander all night. And the idea of being alone with your thoughts scared you.

"Actually… I don't think so," you began, fiddling with your fingers in hopes to not let Fred see how much they were trembling. "I doubt I'd be able to get any sleep now."

"Me too, I admit," Fred scratched the back of his neck, uncertain as to how to make the situation less awkward than it was. Trying to get you to talk was hard enough as it was, but your sudden avoidance wasn't helping either. All Fred wished for was to witness the hopeful spark in your eyes, the spark that he had noticed diminish on the first day of school when the unsettling news was announced.

Fred was determined to bring the light back and see your joyous smile again.

Without skipping a beat he said.

"Come with me."

Your eyes shot up in surprise, meeting Fred's for the first time that night. You expected to see the ever-present playful mischief in them, but instead they glistened with something you could not quite recognize. The corners of his mouth had formed a smile, one that didn't intend to mock or provoke in any way, but still contained his usual boyish charm. It was humble and sincere, and along with the anticipating look in his eyes it read.

Trust me.

Your mouth went dry, any and all reasoning to stay vanishing in thin air as you tried to make sense out of your inner conflict. Fred surely wouldn't care if you said no, would he? It's not like he'd be offended that someone like you refused to go with him; why would he even be interested in you in the first place?

But the idea of spending some time alone with him did sound very tempting - you desperately needed some positivity in that moment, feeling exceptionally drained of all your energy after having to witness the emotional and psychological impact of Umbridge's dictatorship. And if there was someone who could lift your spirit even in such dark times, that would be Fred.

Screw the idea of a potential relationship, you needed a friend right now.

"Where to, Weasley?"

Fred grinned at the nickname and shoved hands into his pockets.

"The Astronomy Tower. Are you coming?"

You smiled at him.

"Sure."

It was indeed a brilliant idea to spend the night at the place where anyone rarely ever set a foot. Regardless of it being crowded during classes all day, the Tower wasn't a common choice for students to meet, them much preferring locations like the common rooms, the Great Hall, the school grounds or even the Black Lake. But the Tower did possess a magnetic, obscure charm which many people failed to comprehend and appreciate; charm only meant to lure the wandering souls seeking peace under the stars.

Fred approached the iron railing, breathing in the cold, early spring air, and sat cross-legged on the ground. As he saw you standing a few feet away from him, he patted the empty spot next to him.

"Come on now, don't leave me sitting on my own like that," he joked and his face lit up when he noticed the ghost of a smile on your lips for a brief moment. You joined Fred on the ground, settling on a polite distance from him, and though he was slightly disappointed by the gesture, he was grateful to be in your presence nonetheless.

Silence fell over both of you like soft velvet while you stared off into the horizon; the view reached the Forbidden Forest, the outlines of which had melted into the pitch black sky like ink, the lines between the two practically nonexistent in the dead hours of the night as they blurred into one endless void.

"I don't remember the last time I saw stars on the sky," Fred addressed your ever-listening companions above in a low, hushed voice that caused warmth to blossom within you regardless of the cold surrounding you.

"Me neither," you agreed, nostalgia creeping into you, but you decided you'd welcome it this time. "Such a shame we can't see the moon though."

Your friend nodded, lips pursed into a thin line, "That's because it's currently new moon. We'll need to wait for awhile until it's visible again."

You turned to Fred and the air was knocked out of your lungs. All you could do was silently admire the way the starlight was softening his sharp features and giving his usually flaming red hair a calming shade of copper. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and you found yourself coming to the conclusion you had realised long ago.

He was such a beautiful man.

Those glowing eyes landed on yours and you felt your face heat up.

"How are you?" he asked abruptly and you choked out in bafflement.

"Y-You mean, right now? Or in general?..."

"How are you coping?" he rephrased. "You know, with everything going on. I noticed Umbridge bothering you recently."

A shuddering breath.

"I like to think that I'm doing better than others," you nodded hesitantly, finding it hard to sort out your emotions. "I'm more worried about the most vulnerable among us, the youngest students. They're just children. They're the ones that are most terrified. I really hope Dumbledore will be able to do something about it… no matter where he might be right now."

Fred was watching you intently; he did not miss your expression, darkened with concern, nor did he miss your slumped figure, slightly hunched over for a reason he believed was other than exhaustion. Your friend moved closer and nudged your foot with his.

"I don't want you to talk to me about the rest. I want to hear about you. I can clearly see you're being tormented by her."

"As if you're not."

"That's not the point," he insisted and placed a hand on your knee, causing you to face him. His smile was gone. "I need to know how this madness is affecting you."

"I couldn't care less about what that toad puts me through," you shook your head dismissively and shrugged. Why was he getting so worked up about it? "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does! It matters to me!" Fred hissed in frustration. "Do you think it doesn't hurt me every time I see Umbridge picking at you or calling you for detention? Because it bloody does and you have no idea how horrible it feels to not be able to help you."

He gave your knee a squeeze.

"For once, just for one time, please. Please, stop trying to be the hero of everybody. Believe me, we see- I see how hard you're trying to keep your chin up despite all the shit you're facing, and that's admirable, but right now it's not necessary. Let go. It's just me."

A way too familiar lump formed in your throat and your chest constricted painfully before it harshly dilated, letting out choked breaths. Fred was quick to envelope you in his long arms before your tears even rolled down your cheeks, and when they did, they met his shoulder. Your hands flew around his neck, body falling into his and soaking up his warmth. Fred pressed his soft lips to your temple, calming the racing pulse as you cried freely and unapologetically. Darling, you feel too much.

It's just me.

Your friend didn't let you out of his hold even when your heart-wrenching whimpers were reduced to weak sobs. He continued cradling your exhausted body which was on the verge of completely giving out. But Fred didn't mind, finding astonishing strength in your vulnerability.

After what seemed like hours, you forced yourself to timidly whisper, lip quivering, "I'm scared... And confused."

"Me too, sweetheart," Fred hummed into your ear. "Me too."

You wiped away the trails of dried tears lingering on your face.

"There's just too much going on. Too much that I'm not ready for."

Realization flashed in Fred's brown eyes and they looked down at you with so much longing, sincerity, but also sympathy and understanding.

You weren't angry at him. You were afraid.

And that was alright.

There was enough time, not need for a rush.

Fred had been waiting for years to find out whether his burning feelings for you were reciprocated, constantly suppressing them in fear of scaring you away and losing you. And now that he knew your heart belonged to him like his did to you, all the stars above couldn't contain his untamed happiness, pure and hopeful.

Surely he could wait a little more for you to grow comfortable with your own emotions.

Fred tightened his hold around you and pecked your cheek tenderly, the subtle touch sending a shock throughout your body and subsiding your need for sleep.

"That's alright," he whispered. "Rest now."

@self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii

Message me if you want to be tagged~

Reblog my work if you enjoyed it!

Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader angst #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #james phelps #george weasley #oliver phelps #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #harry potter imagines

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blxetsi · 3 years

Note

do you write for zeke? if so could you please do some boyfriend!zeke (modern au) hcs? thanks🥺

tysm for requesting !!!

modern zeke jaeger dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

zeke jaeger x gn!reader

- biggest tease ever.

- i think you two wouldve started off as friends to lovers yk 😌✨

- v funny v teasing will make fun of you no matter what

- but its all lighthearted and you can genuinely tell hes joking and doesnt mean what he says

- hes a coffee person. all the way.

- almost always seen with a coffee in his hand

- after you keep stealing sips of whatever hes got he finally just caves in and will bring you your own drink whenever he sees you

- if you dont drink coffee, but prefer a sugary drink or something he'll tease you about it

- hes a very relaxed person and doesnt get jealous, hes not someone that will go balistic and get angry when you hug a friend he doesnt know or whatever

- also would be really cool with your exes if youre cool with them, like "oh yeah i remember you telling me abt them, congrats on your engagement btw" just a very civil man

- if he does have insecurities about your relationship he just kind of, wont say anything ???

- not that he doesnt want to he just doesnt know how to bring it up

- bae pls learn how to talk abt your feelings 😁👍

- anyways after a little bit youll notice somethings wrong, but he'll try and act "strong" bc thats what he thinks hes supposed to be for you

- baby no u can be vulnerable its okay 😐🤚

- he finally lets everything go and has a really long and progressive conversation with you about everything, and you guys work it all out !

- you assure him its okay to be honest and that hes always welcome to talk to you about how hes feeling and his heart just swells

- im also a firm believer in that zeke genuinely doesnt care what you look like, if he finds you cool he finds you cool, he dgaf

- poc ?? he loves you. plus sized ?? he loves you.

- if you even THINK of being like "lol im insecure" hes shutting it down and talking abt how beautiful he finds you

- hes also someone that likes to push you out of your comfort zone, but in baby steps ?? like hes not going to force you to do something when you say "zeke im genuinely not comfortable with this" but if youre very shy he'll try and help you kind of,, not be as shy (hopefully this makes sense 😁👍)

- also loves to cook with you.

- his favourite types of dates are just when you two go to each others' homes and just cook dinner together ?? maybe drink some wine while you chop vegetables and work together (if you drink obv, if you dont he wont drink either even if you say its okay)

- he thinks it makes the food taste better because "it was made with our love" yeah ok ig 🙄🙏

- his family is really cool !! his dads a doctor and his step moms a social worker, and theyre really nice people !! his younger brother is in college but after a while he grows to love you like a sibling

- his mom lives a couple hours away, so he only gets to see her during holidays, but shes a very kind woman who owns an art shop !

- hes a very family oriented man, and really likes that you like his family and vice versa, he thinks its really important that his s/o and family get along

- when hes with you he sees himself being with you for the long run, im talking marriage and kids (if thats what you want) but definitely marriage

- if you two had different friend groups i think it would be hard for either of you to kind of fit in with each others friends, but after a while you two get the hang of it and it gets easier to see them !!

- is the kind of guy who'll wake you up with kisses on your cheek 🤩

- also likes to spoon you or have your head on his chest. will NOT be the baby spoon no matter what.

- also the kind of guy who dramatically stretches and yawns in the morning

- likes it when you hold his hand, even if you guys are just sitting together on the couch watching something, its so simple and subtle but it makes him really happy

- if you have an office at home that you work in a lot, he'll come and check on you when it gets late. will just rub and pat your head and ask what youre working on, and ask if youll be done soon

- if youre stressing on something that needs to be done THAT NIGHT he understands and will just leave you to it

- when you come to bed late it wakes him up but hes glad it does bc then he can pull you into his arms 😌✨

- zeke has very warm hands, to the point where sometimes theyre sweaty and clammy, so when you have a stomach ache or cramps he has no problem just laying down behind you and rubbing your stomach where it hurts

- if you have a weird interest or hobby he wont discourage it as long as its not hurting you or anybody else, he'll try and get into it to but if he cant no harm done, he'll respect it and you

- i think he would have some acne scars on his cheeks from highschool (puberty am i right 🙄😤⁉️) and thats one of the reasons why he has a beard, just to make it hard to see

- its mostly bc hes cool though, and although he started growing it out BECAUSE he found the scarring weird, as hes gotten older he just doest care anymore

- if you think he looks hot clean shaven he'll do it for u, and he loves the compliments you give him

- zeke is the kind of guy that will flip through the tabloid magazines at checkout

- "babe did you know that jennifer lawrence has a dark secret ??" "i- i did not 😁"

- also the kind of guy that will laugh if he sees kids falling in public

- if he was a father he'd help his kid up obviously, but would do it while giggling the whole time

- has dad handwriting (u know what im talking about)

- everytime he calls his brother he answers with "hey asshole" ??? brotherly love 🙈✨

- is very into horror films, but ONLY good ones

- so like hereditary, midsommar, and black swan are some ones he loves

- the kind of guy that has captain crunch for breakfast every morning

- theres this guy at the law firm he works at that he has a "rivalry" of sorts with, his names levi and from what youve been told hes actually very intimidating ??

- loves to read and will read to you if you ask, would have you in between his legs with your back to his chest on the bed, and he'd have one hand in yours and the other holding whatever book you choose

- zeke needs to be in complete darkness to sleep but needs to have a room as bright as possible to be productive. so every morning after he stretches and gets out of bed hes immediately opening his curtains and letting light into the room because "its the only way he'll actually get ready"

- if he was ever to pop the question he'd do it alone at a very mundane time, just like "wow this is the moment" and ask you to marry him. doesnt matter if he has a ring or not, hes ready, and he realizes this, and he finds the beauty in just doing something so simple with you. hes content and happy, and you make him see life in things he hasnt before, and hes ready for the commitment that comes with marriage, and hes in love with you.

hope u all enjoyed 🤩🤩🤩 asks r open so request if ud like !!! okay love u all stay safe 🤩

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #erwin smith #hange zoe #levi ackerman #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager #zeke yaeger #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger headcanons #zeke yeager headcanons #zeke x reader #zeke jaeger x gn!reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader

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portias-husband · 3 years

Text

Floral Question - Julian x Male! reader

Contains : Julian buying u a bouquet

It had been 3 years since you and Julian had made your relationship official. Three years since Julian had been happy beyond his wildest dreams, since he had been blessed with an amazing guy such as yourself.

Now here he was, stood in the market of Vesuvia, staring at the seemingly endless market stalls, wondering why it was so hard to think of a gift for you. You, the love of his life, who appreciated him for everything he was, who made sure that he was always okay, who deserved everything in the world. What could he possibly get you to pay you back for that?

“Flowers! Bouquets! Get those you love a personalised gift!”

His ears perked up at the sound of a seller, hollering at those passing by. Flowers? That sounded like a good idea. Flowers have meaning. He could tell you how he feels without actually saying it. That was it. It was decided. He would get you a bouquet.

As he approached the seller, his nerves began to grow. What bouquet would he get you? Which flowers? What do the flowers mean?

“You, sir! Want a special bouquet for that special person?”

Julian nodded and the seller smiled, motioning for him to step inside the shop. The instance that he did, he was hit with the smells of thousands of flowers, all seeming to turn and greet him when he walked in.

He could see colours, colours that mixed with each other and he took and involuntary gasp. This may be a problem. He had no idea what flowers you liked and there were so many to choose from.

A small laugh interrupted his thoughts. It came from the counter, from a young girl who couldn’t have been more than 10.

“You seem confused sir. I’m guessing you’ve never given a bouquet before.”

When Julian shook his head, she gave a knowing nod.

“I figured as much. Most folk don’t know how to start, especially when you have as many flowers to choose from as there are here. But maybe I can help you. You see, each type of flower has an individual meaning. These purple hyacinths for example - represent deep sorrow.”

She held up multiple flowers and explained their meaning, while Julian listened intently to her ramblings.

“So what are you looking for? Who are you giving them too”

Her question made him blush.

“I’m looking for a present, its an anniversary gift for my, well for my boyfriend.”

She smiled softly, writing on a piece of paper.

“Okay, so romantic flowers? Perfect. How about I make a bouquet, and tell you the meanings so you can give your special boy a true heartfelt gift”

Julian let out a noise of approval, still embarrassed but intrigued to see what this small child could come up with. She went into the back room, telling him to wait and that she may be a while. He obediently waited, staring at the colours and smelling the air, enjoying the soft vibe that this shop gave off.

She returned after a short while, holding two baskets which were filled to the brim with different flowers, all of different colours and shapes.

“First of all sir, I think that red roses should go into this bouquet. They represent love, romantic love. And also can represent plans for marriage in the future”

Julian’s cheeks went red again, not noticing the knowing grin and side eye that the girl gave him.

“What else should go in?”

He was very curious now, staring at the two baskets with the same wonder in his eyes as the girl.

“Well since they are for an anniversary, I would recommend dahlias. They represent a lasting bond and commitment. Is that okay?”

Not even waiting for him to respond she reached into the basket and pulled out more flowers. 4 more, in various colours.

“Now we have primroses, which tell someone that you can’t live without them. And since you seem to be very in love with this boy, I would also recommend yellow tulips which tell someone that they have sunshine in their smile. We also have green orchids which represent good health, nature and longevity. They are rumoured to bring good fortune which will help for an anniversary. Then, since all good relationships need good friendships, we have yellow roses which represent joy and friendship.”

Watching her work was mesmerising, and the bouquet, with all the colours mixing, looked perfect.

“Oh but we aren’t done yet!”

She reached under the desk, and pulled out some more flowers, blue and white.

“These will form the rim around the flowers. Forget me nots are meant to mean true love and memories. And the white one, mistletoe, symbolises affection and asks someone to kiss you.”

More blood flushed to Julian’s cheeks at that comment about kissing. All the flowers were perfect. Like the girl was reading his mind and knew what his relationship was like. She gave a small smile as she finished the bouquet and almost looked older than she was, as her focused gaze landed on him.

He paid and grabbed the flowers.

“Good luck Julian”

He froze. His name? Turning around, the girl was gone.

Shaking his head, he reasoned that he was crazy, and that she probably just recognised him from being close to the Countess.

It didn’t matter now. He had a plan for tonight. Those red roses will definitely come in handy for what he wanted to do.

To be continued in part 2

#the arcana #The Arcana Game #the arcana julian #the arcana x mc #the arcana x reader #julian x mc #arcana julian #julian x reader #julian x apprentice #male reader #arcana x male reader

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hms-no-fun · 3 years

Note

this isn't a question but i love how you write terezi. one scene that stands out to me for some reason is the one between her and karkat in gf3 where its simultaneously v telling of the similarities between her and june, and their conflict. but while also showing the shift in her friendships (like with karkat) & also how she grapples with her mind powers & relationships on the whole. i guess i'd love to hear any thoughts u had while writing that chapter!

aaaaaaaa thank you!!! that was a really tough chapter to write and i wasn't sure how it would land at all. 3.1 has obviously been in production for a long time now but ch6 definitely went through the most revisions. i have an 80 page doc of scrapped/modified sections and i think a solid half of that is variations on that scene. karkat and terezi's relationship is really interesting to me particularly because there's a tenacious sect of the fandom that still ships karezi despite them both being two very canonically homosexual characters. there's like a ghostly pressure i feel when i brush up against a popular ship that i think is fun to toy around with, i really enjoy proving those people wrong :p

you could say that gf2 is about the importance of having people around you who speak the same emotional language, and there's this really radical positivity to june and terezi's relationship at the start that is the result of many mitigating circumstances. but that last scene of gf2, with the two of them sitting on their new porch and chatting... idk man that always struck me as melancholy and kind of ominous?

like besides the existence of silverbark i think this scene is what compelled me most to push on to gf3, which might come as a surprise since the scene PROBABLY feels pretty tame? but there's just something about it, as i was writing it, there was some real one-sided tension going on. terezi wanted to say something else but couldn't. which, you know, historically? not a great sign.

i think there is this really unhealthy dynamic between june and terezi that never had the opportunity to boil up to the surface in gf2 because of how short the time frame of that story was. but now the honeymoon period is decidedly over, some months have passed and they've mostly fallen back into old habits. i won't speak too much to what's going through terezi's head though because that will be explored more at length in the text later on! but i think it's safe to say she's having a bad time.

honestly a lot of this side of gf3 grew out of my frustration with how the fandom viscerally hates on vriska for the bad things she did, but somehow terezi gets a pass because... what, because she's a cop? because she's doing it for some fascistic notion of "justice"? bro she knew her best friend was being groomed and stalked by an older man and when her best friend fucked up her first response was to SNITCH TO SAID OLDER MAN WITH EVERY EXPECTATION THAT HE WOULD MURDER HER IN COLD BLOOD, WHICH HE ALMOST DOES. 3.1 ch1 goes from the boardroom scene with june to june reliving that last conversation vriska had with terezi before she snitched to doc scratch specifically because i think it's really representative of a lot of the shit going on between both vrisrezi and junerezi. beneath the lovey dovey transbian surface is a truly unhealthy refusal on terezi's part to ever cede ground to anyone she decides is an "opponent." except vriska!!

the key to writing good terezi imo is understanding that her vocal certitude in all things is 100% a front. she latches onto ideas of a system of justice because it gives her a moral structure that she can hang her coat on, that tells her what is right and what is wrong in unambiguous terms that she can just trust implicitly. vriska and terezi both do awful awful things in act 5, but the difference between them is that vriska KNOWS what she's doing is bad and just doesn't have a choice because of her psychic spidermom, so she covers that guilt up in layers upon layers of fantasy and abstraction and gameification. terezi meanwhile thinks that everything she does is justified because she's a legislacerator! and that is in my opinion WAY WORSE in the longterm!!!

i think she does this because internally she has no idea what the fuck is going on and is terrified of losing control or being confronted with her shortcomings or ever having to admit that she's wrong. she clings to this idea of justice even long after losing faith in the alternian system of justice in specific because the alternative is living in a chaotic and lawless universe, which is fucking ego death for a seer of mind. and that's THE vein i was trying to tap into in 3.1 ch6 and 7, and partly what made them so difficult to write, because the thing is unlike a lot of these other melodramatic bitches terezi absolutely will not say what she's thinking. she will lie and deflect and pull rhetorical reversals to force herself out of the conversational spotlight every single time if given the opportunity.

what made those chapters doubly more difficult to write was that dave and karkat are also extremely bad at talking about their feelings. so this led to a series of scenes where no one can actually talk about what they're talking about! which is fucking MADDENING!!!

but that's exactly why i wanted to get them all together for a little while. i think terezi is in this really difficult place where she feels stagnant in her own life and rather than processing that like a mature adult, she's doing what she always does which is lash out rudely and often violently at the people she actually cares most about. because i think on some level she wants them to prove her wrong? like she goes into that conversation with karkat so sure about how it's going to go, and then completely fucking whiffs it and almost gives herself a concussion. but she STILL can't really admit what's going on deep down, because if she stated it outright in simple terms she would have no choice but to admit that she's kind of an asshole, to put it mildly. like she wants other people to prove her wrong, but she's also constitutionally incapable of accepting any reality where she could be wrong. so it just becomes this self-destructive downward spiral until she winds up... well, wherever chapter 8 takes her :')

so i think terezi goes to davekat's place because she thinks they're both gonna be easy targets, right? like she thinks she can just walk all over these stupid boys and work her frustrations out on them and then, like, go back home and pretend nothing happened? but what i really like about my version of davekat in this context is that they have matured a lot. it's implied that karkat has been at the very least reading ABOUT leftist theory, and while dave's been isolating from everyone and feels deep shame about his recently acquired feline features, i think you can see a level of maturity in the way he talks that wasn't present before. and it was really important to me that dave and karkat are like... they're sleeping in separate rooms and not spending a lot of time together right now, but they aren't separated. i like to think they had some heated arguments but ultimately decided they still prefer each others' company than being completely alone. they still love each other. and i think terezi is infuriated a little when she notices that, because it's a degree of compromise she can't even begin to comprehend at this point in her life.

uhhhhhhhh so this wound up being kind of a gloomy overview of terezi as a character so i want to end this ask a little more upbeat by posting an EXCLUSIVE DELETED SCENE that i tried really really really fucking hard to get into gf3 and just couldn't. originally ch6 was going to open with terezi barging in on dave, karkat, and jake's biweekly movie day. one of the more revelatory bits i wrote in 2.3 was the brief conversation between dave and jake where they're trading dirk stories. they have a fun dynamic that's basically never explored in homestuck proper!! so i had every intention of expanding on that in 3.1, but alas there just wasn't time. maybe someday...

i included those parenthetical notes at the end to show my process a little. i'll write a dialog scene and get up to a momentary stopping point, and then if i have ideas for stuff that happens in/around there i'll drop these parentheticals in as a reminder. actually rereading this i have a feeling i'm gonna find a way to reuse it anyway but we've come too far to turn back now!!!

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choiwrites · 3 years

Text

kth | wolfgirl (m.)

Words: 10k Genre: twlight!au, it’s new moon but taetae as jacob, ur bella but you have a personality :o, oh also smut and a little angst Warnings: no protection and no fcks given, language ig?, descriptive seggs lol, vampires and all that bs if that triggers sum of yall, oral (f receiving), tae is younger than u and kind of a sub (dom tae is overdone we need change in this country) i cant think no more no thots hed mt Rating: 18+ Song: Iron & Wine - Flightless Bird, American Mouth Summary: During your stay at your Aunt's house in the wet town of Forks, you never thought the boys next door will change your perspective in how you see the world.

The weather in Washington was something you’re not used to. You can never go places without getting mud on your shoes and it takes more than your patience to clean them every time before going out. Sure, it was great to experience a different weather other than the blazing sun in Los Angeles, but it was hard to adjust. You weren’t ready for it with all the sleeveless and loose tops you brought from Los Angeles.

After months of debating with your mom, you decided it would be a great way to spend your summer vacation turning your camera focus into something more dark and cloudy. Your professor had also suggested that it would look good in your portfolio if you try different moods in photos other than the hot weather in Angeles. So, you thought about it for months before asking your mom to buy you tickets to see your Aunt Sylvia who you're currently living with for the meantime.

She was in her mid-thirties, but she looked younger than her real age. She knew how to groom and with the way she looks, she probably had that life during her high school days. You rarely see her though, you can remember all the conversations you both had. She leaves home early for her duty at the police station as an attending desk officer. Her place wasn't big, an average suburban house painted in cold tones of white and gray with dark furniture inside. It's not your typical definition of cozy. Good thing you brought your two sweaters — one with a Christmas tree embroidered on it and one with the phrase "'tis the season!" Wearing a sweater in Los Angeles only means one thing, and that is the season of giving. But who cares, it's not like anyone was going to notice, right?

About to finish the second cup of black tea, an idea pops into your mind about what Sylvia had said about the landscapes nearby the house. However, she had warned you about the risks of a few wild coyote appearances, but one could call you a junkie. There’s no fun in danger, but dangerous does rhyme with adventurous.

A cool whip of breeze enters the thin fabric of your sweater, immediately regretting stepping out of the doorstep after locking the door. As you are approaching the back of the house to enter the woods, young laughters echo through the area, lessening your fear for a bit. It must be safe if a group of teenagers are hanging out in such a secluded forest.

Unbothered by the noises, whether they were from teenagers or not, you make your way further into the woods of coppery branches on the endless verdant ground with subtle eau de nils. It’s like walking into a surreal three-dimensional render of a forest, too perfect to be right in front of your eyes.

It was quiet and serene in the woods. Aside from birds chirping, it felt like out of this world. It was an alien planet. Everything was green — the moss surrounding the place, every tree had some sort of fungi beneath it, the soil dark brown as if staring right into the earth’s eyes. The very healthy kind of earthy, and it was easier to breathe in the forest than it was in the city of Los Angeles. No wonder why they're both on the opposite sides of the country. They're literally poles apart. Being at Forks, it's as if you were able to be in a different country. It was secluded, unlike in Angeles, there are people in every place you go.

While changing the film of the camera, a strong gust of wind on your left side. So strong that your body stumbled onto the ground. You were on your knees, camera shattered as it hits a hard medium-sized rock. You break a couple of curses to the wind.

The camera looked hopeless with lenses separated from it, lying in pieces against a rock.

"What the hell was that?"

There had to be some kind of a fast animal that ran from your side, which quickens your pulse, but the devastation you felt for the camera overthrew that fear. When you caught a glimpse of the 'wind,' it was human-like. It ran around in every direction surrounding you, freezing you into place. The only thing you were able to do was to keep watching the human-like creature run in circles like lightning. You tried standing up, but it approached you in a rapid current that you fell into place again. But you couldn't see it, you weren't able to look into its eyes.

"You shouldn't be out here alone,” behind you says.

You whimper, embarrassed when the deep voice sends hums into your nerves..

"Why didn't you run?" He looks at you with knitted brows as he approaches to help you get on your feet. He’s far too attractive to be a wild coyote, you slap that stupid thought away.

"I... I didn't know what to do,” you force out, still affected by the broken camera and creeping fear.

He was around four inches taller than you. He looked about your age. Dark thick hair, with light brown irides inside his almond-shaped eyes. His skin was of a rich walnut tan, and his dark green hoodie complements that.

"You must be Sylvia's niece. I'm Taehyung,” he said in a sultry manner as he offered a hand for a handshake.

"How do you kno-"

"She told us. My family's close with Sylvia. Our mothers used to be best friends, y/n." He puts his hand back in the pocket of his hoodie.

A tinge of embarrassment brushes through your cheeks, feeling guilty that you didn't give him a handshake. But all of that is ignored when he smiles.

"Did I creep you out?"

You chuckle softly. "No, of course not. I'm just still in the moment... of processing." You ease him, as if you were able to read the tension in his undecipherable eyes.

There was a few seconds of silence before Taehyung spoke again when he noticed your camera on the ground.

"Hey, we have a technician at home, maybe he has some tools he could help you with."

He was absolutely gorgeous. You find yourself lost in his face, studying his features and every little action he does. He would look so good as a muse. If only you could capture him right now, he'd be perfect under the clouds that create shadows that contour his cheeks and makes his eyes even more mysterious.

"Don't worry, you can trust me. Sylvia knows where I live,” he adds.

Though that doesn't really solve the problem, you find yourself walking with Taehyung in the woods, drifting away from the devastation and fear from earlier.

The laughters were from them. The laughs you heard earlier before entering the woods were from Taehyung's friends. They confirmed that they were walking around the woods earlier and that they passed by your house. All looking friendly with similar doe eyes, almost like they were relatives. They were all in a circle, all of them sitting on a chunk of thick logs, dressed in a similar way. The men were younger than you, but there is a girl who's older than you. She didn't seem as friendly as the others as you notice the judging glances towards your way. She had shoulder length of hair and she was just as tan as Taehyung. Taehyung discussed each of them one by one to you, all of them introducing themselves in an endearing manner except for her. Only saying her name was Leah and that was it, which made you feel an ounce of intimidation.

"So, y/n, how long do you plan to stay?" Embry, the one with the shortest hair, asks as he plays with the two twigs he'd been digging up dirt with the moment you arrived. His color was a tad bit darker than the others. He had a grin that could steal every girl's heart. He was gorgeous. They were all just as gorgeous as Taehyung.

"Oh, one month. I have a college application to fix back home,” you answered surely. You were only here to take photos for your college portfolio, and making friends was out of the picture until today.

"Sucks for Tae, I had a feeling you could be more than a willing candidate to be his girlfriend." Everybody laughed except for you and Tae who exchanged awkward glances at each other.

"Stop it, Bry." Taehyung wanted to laugh along but embarrassment got the best of him.

"She looks so out of place. You probably party a lot in Los Angeles, don't you?" Leah gives you a stern look, seriously waiting for your response. She only wants to get a reaction from you and you weren’t the only one to get the feeling as the group feels the rising tension between the both of you.

"No, I don't go to parties. Mom is very strict." You tell her. You didn't want the group to feel that you were intimidated, after all, you wanted to befriend everyone.

"She'd be perfect for our overnight tomorrow then." She prickly grins.

"Right! Want to join us in La Push? It's the nearest beach out here. We'll have bonfires and such," Seth, the youngest one with the tiniest body (still bigger than yours), expresses in excitement. Out of all of them, Seth was the friendliest.

"I'll go talk to Sylvia for you, if you want." Taehyung raises his brows. He had been laughing quietly ever since he had brought you to meet his friends - which seems like he regrets, additionally. He was more mysterious than you thought. He didn't share much of his life during the discussion, only three things: his last name was Kim, he’s 20 years old, and he lives at the rez along with the rest of the team.

"Sure. I'll just bring my other camera." You smiled.

Taehyung said that he'll get Chase, a friend of his who wasn’t part of the circle, to fix the broken film camera. He assured that it will only be a matter of three days before the camera is all yours again. After a few more useless fun discussions, you had forgotten that the sun had settled for a while. When Taehyung realizes your face of worry, he offers to give you a ride home. Great, a ride with the wild coyote who had immediately earned your trust by rising a brow. You wouldn’t be so shocked if you end up ‘missing’ in the news in the next hours.

He owned a Chevy pick up truck. It was red, but faded, making it seem vermillion in color. It had a few dents and you were sure that it wasn't one of the smoothest rides you've ever had. But Taehyung made a few jokes about how he feels uneasy with the truck as well, only to reveal that it has been with him ever since his birth.

"It's great. Very retro." You gave him a smile to let him know that he doesn't need to feel embarrassed with his truck.

"Shut up, Y/N. I know it sucks, okay. I can't even play a single song here without a static." He laughs and you admit it.

He gave a charming wave to your window and had a small chat with Sylvia, who’s been home for hours, before leaving, probably about the La Push trip for tomorrow. Once you've changed into your pyjamas, Sylvia knocks on your door as you are about to settle in bed.

"Tae told me about the La Push camping tomorrow,” she began.

"Are you gonna let me?"

She smiles in an assuring way. You can't deny how lovely she looked with her hair down, her waves framing her heart-shaped face. "Of course, honey. You better wake up early tomorrow. Tae told me that he'll pick you up by seven." She winks and rubs your shoulder before heading downstairs.

A beach trip in a cloudy town without bringing any hoodies with you? Sounds about perfect, if you’re looking for a hypothermia attack. And you were never a morning person either so it’s a big mystery why you even agreed to go in the first place. The waking time in Los Angeles was ten in the morning. In Forks, it was seven.

When Taehyung arrived, he was wearing a black shirt and a black leather jacket, pairing it with slightly oversized pants. He looked bigger than yesterday, maybe it was the jacket that made him look buff. He waved softly before you even stepped out of the doorway. He was carrying a medium-sized paper bag with small wet stains.

"My sister made us breakfast. Just in case you didn't have enough time to prepare," he opens the car door for you and waved to Sylvia goodbye, "thought you'd take more time because you probably wake up late in the city."

“I’m somehow a little offended with that assumption,” you cooed and he replied with a stammering laugh, unsure whether to take it as a joke or not.

He fumbled with the stereo and it played better than yesterday, giving you a sloppy smile as the first chords of Creep by Radiohead plays.

"You fixed it?" You take a bite from the sandwich his sister prepared. You thank God his sister prepared it for you, your stomach would be growling by now.

"Yeah. I just didn't want us to have that awkward silence along the way." He breathily laughs.

Everything Taehyung has is beautiful. He had an amazing laugh, a deep sultry voice, and doe eyes. He's simply astonishing. You were sure that everyone he has met so far had fallen in love with him. You weren't one to deny that either.

It took around fifteen songs before the both of you arrived at the beach — thanks to Taehyung's amazing playlist. It was quiet, the weather didn't change much in the place. Still cold and dark, untouched by a glimpse of sunrise. It was windier than the rest of Forks, and you wore your Christmas sweater to at least help with the cold a bit.

It was weird to say, but Taehyung radiated heat whenever you were near him. It's like when you're not around Taehyung, you feel the coldness of Forks. His truck didn't even feel cold though his air conditioning was on, you just felt a sense of unfamiliar comfortable heat you found yourself curling in your seat minutes ago. The group welcomed the both of you except for Leah of course. Sooner or later, you knew you'd start to hate her.

"You guys are early,” you tell Embry and Paul as they greet you with warm hugs.

"Of course, we are. It's La Push, baby." Embry gives you a wink and you blush.

"Okay, Bry, I haven't had my breakfast and you're already winking." Paul fake puked and the rest of the group laughs.

They started setting up tents as Taehyung offered to take your bag when he noticed how it's weighing you down. Before he could put it in the tent, you took your digital camera and started roaming around by yourself to take pictures of the view. Astounding as you had expected. It's like you were in the middle of nowhere. Only Taehyung's friends were at the beach which was a lucky shot for you and the group.

"Set up the fire, Tae! We're having breakfast." Leah yells across the place as she places the logs in the middle of the circle the tents are built in.

Taehyung sighs loudly. "Get ready for the Quileute Tribe stories."

"You seem tired of it, you joked.

While Taehyung builds a fire with the rest of the boys, you secretly take pictures of him busy as the both of you keep talking.

"It's always the story every camping day. The Quileute Legends, you know? The scary stuff."

You knit your brows when the word ‘scary’ comes into play, bringing your camera down to take a better look at the almost sweaty Taehyung.

"Scary stuff? How scary? Thrill me." You weren't aware as to how much Taehyung also studies your features. He wanted to know you better, but he was afraid of scaring you away by asking too many questions. It had always been his issue, scaring people away from him. And this time, he didn't want to let you in like the others, he just wanted to be acquaintances. But the more he spends time with you, the more he wants to be near you as if there were magnets pulling you together.

"I don't know what would thrill you, y/n. But the world is darker than you think, it's not always safe." He gives you a look. It was impossible. You were five feet away from him, but you could almost see your reflection in his eyes. It was too comforting. You were devoured by his eyes, falling steadily into his charms.

"I know. It's just as scary in L.A., I mean," you gulped, "crime is everywhere. Can't really stop it." You explained.

"It's not always crime that's scary, y/n. I'm talking unexplainable things." He smirks.

"Like paranormal?" You gaze away from him, starting to take pictures of the beach. But no matter how hard you try to distract yourself from Taehyung, your eyes keep falling on him.

"More than paranormal. Ghosts are easier to believe in."

You inhaled sharply. "I mean those are just legends, right? What's with the obsession in the Qui-Quileute Tribe?" You struggled pronouncing the word.

"It's not me. It's a tradition." There was a moment of silence before you could think of what to say again.

"Delete my pictures by the way." He scoffed.

"I thought you didn't notice."

"I was posing."

You laugh at his joke, still certain you're never deleting any of his pictures, most definitely the one when he accidentally looked at the camera.

"You look sort of beautiful in the camera." Your lids flutter like a high school girl. “Not just in the camera, I mean… haha.”

He stares at you in confusion, and somehow you always find yourself frozen and embarrassed whenever he looks at you. "Sort of beautiful? You're more naive than I thought." He removes his jacket and throws it on the log nearby, revealing his buff body. You look away in discomfort, you didn't want to find yourself checking him out. "I'm not what you think I am. And I don't think you want to know."

"Maybe I do." You point the camera towards him and take a shot of his reaction. You wink.

The clouds hovering above the clamorous sea tell that there's probably rain coming, but it seems like the group wasn't bothered by it at all. You were sitting next to Taehyung two feet away from you on the logs nearby the fire that Seth had given up trying to help making after a couple of failed attempts. His heat never failed to linger around you though.

Sam was discussing the Quileute Legends and the group was very fascinated with the story, even though Taehyung had confirmed earlier that they've already heard the story too many times from their own families. Sam was good. He had a way in telling stories. You find yourself actually believing the legends. Werewolves and vampires? Shapeshifters and Children of the Moon? You weren't one to believe in such fantasies. You liked to watch historical movies more than fairytales, but with the way Sam elaborated every part of the legend, you can't deny the shiver that you felt when he discussed the cold ones.

Fast like lightning. Beautiful and alluring. Undead without a soul.

You thought it was ridiculous for Sam to even give out a warning about the cold ones. You were suppressing your laugh a little bit, and you were sure Leah already had her eyes on you. Why would Sam give out a warning about the cold ones? It's not like they were actually real. He also mentioned a treaty. And he sounded pretty serious about it too, even Taehyung was carefully listening. All of their eyes were on Sam, except for Leah.

Sam talked about a specific family of the cold ones, that they proposed a treaty. These cold ones are not allowed to hurt anybody from Forks, or else the mentioned werewolves are allowed to pose a fight with them. He talked about it like it was a plan.

It was afternoon and the clouds were still as thick as it was in the morning, but rays of sunlight shone through the gaps between the dark clouds. It looked ethereal, an aesthetic you'd only see in paintings. You thought those paintings are only manifestations of amplified emotions of the painter, but here you are, smiling to your camera as you take hundreds of shots.

"Save some memory for the other landscapes," Taehyung says beside you, throwing pebbles to the water, each bouncing impressively for three times.

"I know, I just can't get enough of this. You don't see that in L.A." You pointed your index finger towards the horizon of the sea.

"Yeah, but at least you can swim in LA. It's too cold out here to even go for a swim,” he emphasized.

"Not when you're around. It's weird, but I feel like you have a fever. You're too hot."

He raises his brows . "I know I'm hot," he chuckles.

"I didn't mean it like that,” you protest, though you know for a fact, Taehyung right. If he were to live in L.A., he'd be escorted many times by a modeling agency.

"So, I'm not hot?" You knew he was teasing and your embarrassment was obvious enough because of the blood rushing through your cheeks.

"You're attractive. I'm sure you know that." You roll your eyes, trying to keep everything casual — which is getting harder and harder every time he's around.

"No, I don't,” he teased. He was obviously getting pay back on you for taking candid shots of him earlier.

Your eyes landed on Sam and Emily play-fighting in the sea, just the sight of them being happy made you feel a bit of a heartache. You were a sucker for romance. The boys told you earlier that they were engaged for three months now. Leah was Sam's ex-girlfriend and Emily was Leah's ex-best friend. Finally putting the pieces together why Leah was one of the hardest to be with. She was extremely hurt and broken. She would rather shut the world out rather than let anybody in. She would rather be alone, than find anyone again who could possibly hurt her.

"Look," you poked Taehyung who was too busy throwing pebbles, "Sam and Emily are swimming. We should too!"

Though you were shivering, you bravely took off the mustard jacket that Taehyung had let you borrow. You were left with your thin brown tank top and denim shorts. He's still in his black shirt, unbothered to even take it off nor his jeans.

"What are you doing? Let's go." You tell him as you walk towards the sea.

This was a bad idea. It felt like ice was draping all over your body. How can Emily look like she's having fun when you're over here freezing just by stepping into the water? Half of your body was shivering from the wind, the lower half was for sure numb. You wanted to slap Taehyung for taking so long to get in with you, and you weren't even sure why you were so desperate for him to get in with you. It's not like he had a heater with him.

It took Taehyung a few more seconds before he started taking his shirt off, revealing his caramel skin, but it wasn't his color that caught your eyes, it was how built he is. His body looks like it was sculpted by the most talented and precise sculptor. It was defined, and shadows are doing magic in giving it silhouettes in the right areas. The best part about it was how shy he was taking off his clothes, like a teenager getting ready for his first swimming lesson.

He was for sure planning to swim today, revealing the gray trunks he’s wearing underneath his jeans. He needs a bigger one that fits him better, because the trunks he's wearing isn't doing him any justice.

Okay, no. Maybe it was justified by a subtle outline of his —

Don't even look down there, y/n, you tell yourself.

You didn't know where to focus. His thighs were just as eye-catching as his abs. Just as toned and thick. It would be such a material for thigh riding, you thought and you quickly shake your head at the idea. It has to be the waters that did this to you. Time has never been more relevant when he was walking towards your way, as he scoops water with his hands to wet his hair, while biting his bottom lip and giving you a small smile after.

"Freezing?" He smiles, eyes pierced on your small body. You were hugging yourself, embracing yourself from the fact that if you let go of your hands, you might touch something else.

"You were taking so long."

He chuckles before holding your arm, taking it off your body. "Come on, dip your whole body." He pulls you softly towards the ocean, the sound of walking through water comforting your ears.

He was a foot away from you, the water level was on his chest and so was yours, but slightly higher. He looked even more godly. His hair pushed back, and to see his face in its entirety was a blessing, a gift.

None of you dared to talk, and you thought it was better that way. You just get to stare at him, as the sunlight lands itself upon his bronze eyes with specks of gold if you would close enough, majestic indeed to see something like that once in your life. You'd wish to wake up to that every morning.

There was this comfortable silence between the two of you. Drops of water fall under his eyelashes, fluttering them as he struggles to stare back at you. The moment was ruined when he suddenly smiled and looked towards Embry and Paul. Embry was sitting next to Paul, staring at the both of you while laughing. You shrug, feeling invaded.

"Why? What is it?" you asked Taehyung.

"They're thinking ridiculously."

You furrow your forehead. "How do you know?" He tightens his hold around your arm as he keeps you steady near him, aware of you struggling to touch the floor.

"I just know," he softly plants circles on your arm with his thumb, "trust me."

"Maybe we shouldn't stand too close to each other then. I think they're making a big deal out of it." You didn't want to come off feisty, but you guessed it went that way for Taehyung as he moved away from you without letting you go.

"No, they're not. They're just teasing." When he said that, it was like he only said it to get near you, to assure you that it was okay to be close to him like that.

"Still cold?" he asked.

"Not so much anymore." You muttered. There were so many questions you wanted to ask Taehyung, but your voice isn't very trustworthy at the moment. You know it will betray you the moment you open your mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts? Why did you want to swim?" His voice was soft, calming as the ocean.

"I wanted to test how warm you can make me, even in freezing water."

He laughs breathily. "Seriously?"

You nod. He wanted to tell you a lot about himself, but like you, he was just as scared. Skinny dipping wasn't really your thing, especially in cold water, so after a few more moments of swimming and small talks with Taehyung, you let yourself dry by sitting next to the tent, keeping yourself busy by viewing all the pictures you took.

It was four in the afternoon, and the sun looked like it was already setting. Time was almost irrelevant at Forks, you wake up and the next thing you know, you're already getting ready for bed. Even though today was quite eventful, the clock still ticked quickly.

Feeling dry enough, you walked to the other side of the beach, Embry had mentioned that there was a cliff nearby along the woods. Though Taehyung was busy drying himself and laughing with the others, he glanced your way as you were heading towards the woods. You lifted your camera so he knew what your motive was, and he flashed a sly smile.

Trees. Cliffs. Birds.

The place could be a haven for the National Geographic Channel.

"I thought the pack wouldn't ever leave you alone like this." A deep voice spoke behind you, his english accent was thick and strong. You were sure that if you turn around, he’ll be ten feet away from you. You regret blinking your eyes, because the next thing you knew, he was right in front of you. His expression with so much thirst, so much hunger. For what?

You only inhaled sharply, first thing coming into your mind, confusion overpowering your nerves. You examined the man before you quickly. Olive skin, dark ruby eyes. His skin was inhumanly shiny, he almost looked dead, but in a mesmerizing type of way. He had dark purple circles, but his eyes were beautiful enough to distract you from it. He mirrored a cement under sunlight, he had fragments of diamonds and glitters on his skin. It wasn't your brain consuming you but his visual, his aura.

"Didn't bring your dog with you?" You weren't sure what he meant. He takes a step forward to lean into your ear, and your feet beg to stay, your eyes staring deeply in his beauty. You were too engaged, everything about him had you in place.

"You smell different from the others. Are you aware of that?" His breath touched your skin and there the exact opposite of heat seeping in your skin. “La tua cantante. I can hear your blood flowing through your veins. I can hear your heart. It's beautiful." He sniffs your neck as he hisses.

He wasn't human, and this time you were sure. He had danger lingering in his eyes, but it dressed so captivatingly beautiful, you found yourself lost.

"It won't hurt, I promise. It will be just a tiny bite, you won't even feel it."

There were words coming out of your mouth, you swore that. But nothing, your mouth still and close. It's sort of like he had power upon you, controlling and manipulating your body to be a mannequin.

"Shh, don't fight it. You won't win over me." His teeth were grazing on your neck, seeking for a soft spot. You were unsure of his nature, what could he be?

An alien from this alien planet? An experiment gone wrong that escaped from a lab, perhaps? Maybe a demon, or an angel. A greek god of some kind?

They were all terrifying.

At the corner of your eye appeared a shirtless Taehyung, but he didn't look like himself. He was red, smoke flaring around his body. His chest expanded by time, and when you felt a small sensation of sharpness on your neck, Taehyung jumped towards the man.

No, it can't be.

This isn't Taehyung. Taehyung was gone. Maybe you were imagining things, but you felt all of them happening in front of you. As the man got distracted, your senses came back, falling on your side from losing balance. You pushed yourself away from the two monsters, as you would describe it. This wolf was huge, enormous. Any man who would try to fight it will easily lose. It stands almost seven foot, three bears wide.

Without trying, the creature had already decapitated the man. You weren't sure how to feel — safe or worried — but you were sure that you are mortified, and your face clearly expresses that.

You were only moving away from this huge thing in front of you, maybe that'll help you escape. But you don't even know if you wanted to escape. A part of you believes that Taehyung is inside that wolf, maybe eaten alive, or a spirit.

So much for the wild coyotes, thanks for the heads up Sylvia.

Your eyes met his. Dark bronze eyes with specks of gold if you look close enough. You could almost see yourself in them, they were that kind. His eyes had a message for you, to approach him, to pet him, that it was okay and he will never hurt you. Before your hand could land on his lowered head, Sam and the others came running to help you, obviously seeing the wolf, but not even being bothered like you were.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Sam helps you stand on your feet.

Sam and the wolf had some kind of connection. Sam stared at it and the wolf left.

"So, wolves are normal here?" you spoke with a weak voice.

Sam opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking of how he can explain what just happened. You know that he knows something, and he was struggling to tell it.

"Where's Taehyung?" You scan their faces with no sign of Taehyung.

Holy shit! The wolf ate him! you thought. All you want to see right now is Taehyung. To prove himself. He can't be that wolf. The wolf must have eaten him. It is far too impossible for Quileute Legends to be real.

"We should get going before the other cold ones get here." Sam assists you to get back in the tents, completely ignoring your state of bewilderment.

Maybe it's a Forks thing to be mysterious and quiet. It irks you so much that none of them are even acknowledging what happened. This would be a great story for your mom.

Hey, Mom. Just wanted to call to tell you about how great my day was. So Taehyung, right? Aunt's neighbor, really hot guy I'd totally fuck, got eaten by a werewolf. But that's not too crazy, an incredibly beautiful medieval British man held me hostage, telling me he wanted to suck my blood. What a Forks thing! And everybody saw this huge tall wolf, I'm talking as big as a shelf kind of wolf, but they all acted like it was some puppy leaving the scene. Anyways, Mom, I'm traumatized. Going home in a week.

There is no way you can paraphrase that. No way you can make everything happening right now to sound normal at least one bit. This must be normal in Forks, but this is some Hollywood work in LA already. Things like these don't happen unless there was a shoot next door.

"Hey, you okay?" Leah approaches you. Her concern is seemingly genuine.

"I'm alive, guess I am okay. Where's Taehyung?" You don't bother to look at anyone at all, you drive your attention to the waves landing on the beach, hoping you could synchronize your breathing with them.

"Taehyung's fine. You don't have to worry about him."

"I saw him there. He was... he was red! Like he was burning! And... and there was smoke. Then I blinked, then there's a wolf. I swear it ate him!" Leah looked at you with wide eyes, but her lips were shaking trying to hide a smile.

"You're not taking me seriously! That wolf killed that guy! I don't know. He sounded British!" Leah bit her lip. "That was horrifying. I saw its head removed, there was no blood! What was that?" Leah inhaled sharply before looking at you with assurance.

"Can you calm down? The wolf you saw, don't you think it was described like the one in the legends?" Leah almost shouted, yet still controlling her laugh.

"Shapeshifters? Those are legends, Leah! The wolf ate Taehyung!"

She chuckled. "No, they are real," she protested.

"The British man there was a cold one, a literal vampire. Taehyung didn't kill him, he was already dead."

No.

"Shut up, Leah. I know you hate me, but this is no time for jokes."

She laughs harder. "You're right about me not liking you, but I'm not joking. That dark brown werewolf is Taehyung. One and only Taehyung. 20 year-old Taehyung who lives at the rez. That Taehyung."

'The world is darker than you think. It's not always safe.'

Taehyung had already given you clues from the start. But a word from Leah wouldn't be enough to stop your mind from going everywhere. You needed to hear this from Taehyung.

It was twilight already and the group had decided to spend the night in their cabin, instead of the beach. Sam explained that it was for your safety which until now he hasn't elaborated yet. Emily offered newly baked muffins, but it was too late before you could grab one when all the boys devoured around them. You gave Emily a smile.

"You can have the next batch." She shied away.

Emily looks like an average girl next door. She had fringes and medium length hair, they were very flat. Her skin was like the others, tan and healthy-looking. One thing you haven't examined deeply about her were her eyes. Embry had told you once that staring at Emily would bother Sam, and when you first saw her, you knew immediately why. She had a scar on one of her eyes, they looked painful. It looks like a cat scratch, only if that cat was a lion. It covered half of her face, but that didn't stop her from being lovely. She was still pretty in every way.

Taehyung arrives at the cabin, looking at everybody except you, his body resting on the door frame. He was heavy-breathing like he just finished a race. Sam came after him, giving him a small pat then walking towards Emily. Taehyung's eyes remain on the floor. His actions were complicated. You haven't figured him out yet.

"Y/N, Tae, maybe you can talk outside alone." Sam smirks at Taehyung, and Taehyung smiles back.

'This is no time to be smiling!'

Taehyung finally looks at you before leaving the door and you follow. But he still hasn't talked. And your rage is piling up inside you, you finally take a step forward.

"Care to explain what the hell happened there? I thought you were swallowed by that — that thing!" He gulps, stopping his tracks and turning around to see your face.

"I was scared," you muttered.

He totally understood why you were scared. Because he was just as scared and confused as you when he first discovered who he was, and just like you, he chose to deny it in every way he can, and he hoped that denial can make a change.

"You're not supposed to know about this. I didn't want to put you in this position — of knowing what truly there is." His eyes are sad, like he was a missing child.

The same day Taehyung figured out what he was, his eyes looked exactly the same; with fear, agony, and deprecation.

"So, you're a werewolf?" You felt his pupils dilate.

He looked at you in disbelief as if he hadn't given enough clues yet.

"Werewolf. Shapeshifter. Monster. Dog. Whatever you call it, it wasn’t my choice." His voice was weak, almost ashamed of what he had just said.

"And you kill —"

"Vampires." He finishes your sentence before you could assume. "Just vampires. The cold ones? Those that violate the treaty? They’re real." And so the legends were correct and real, and the evidence stands right in front of you, breathing and staring at you.

But no matter what angle you look at him, he wasn't a monster. He is not what he is described in the fairytales. He wasn't a merciless creature, not even harmful. He was just this young boy who lived near you.

"I get that you're afraid of me. Trust me, so am I."

"I'm not scared of you. If it weren't for you I would be bloodless by now." You bit your lip. "But I'm still a little overwhelmed." You gulped.

He had no words, but he was relieved. And you knew that when his eyes twinkled, the kind he gave you when you were jamming to the songs he had in his truck.

"If it's okay for you, I'm inviting you and Sylvia to my birthday tomorrow. It's just a small gathering."

"Will there be drinks?" you kid.

"Sam doesn't really want me taking any drinks for the meantime." He chuckles.

"Why not?"

"He said that I can't be on alcohol during my first six months of phasing. Why? Do you drink?" he innocently asks.

"Was just teasing." You playfully pushed him before proceeding to walk back in the cabin.

Before you even knew it, Taehyung was irrevocably infatuated with you. He wouldn't have thought that a college girl would give a small attention to someone younger than her, or even finding out about who he truly is and still staying by his side. He had spent so much time denying who he was, but maybe being a werewolf isn't so bad after all, if phasing is what it takes to protect you or anyone at all.

You were just like what he thought you would be — kindred spirits.

The party isn’t filled with loud chats and crowds, it is a gathering. Taehyung tried his best to always stand by your side to give you ease in enjoying such an unfamiliar place as Sylvia gets indulged in conversations with the others, completely forgetting you. Every minute though, he'd have to leave you alone on the couch but he'd return as soon as he can.

There weren't much talks between you and him either, only a couple of smiles exchanged whenever Embry and Quil do something embarrassing in front of the both of you.

It seemed as if the night was the longest night of your life, only occupied with listening to others’ stories and Taehyung sipping a punch from his red cup. He had asked a few questions to keep things interesting, but it was hard to keep the mood flowing. You had asked about his hobbies and all the boring stuff you could think of, and surprisingly he would reply with enthusiasm like he have always wanted to be asked those questions. This makes you more curious how his daily life goes, how many people does he actually talk to.

When the hand of the clock drops at ten, you were just patiently waiting for Sylvia to get on her feet and cut the conversation with the others but she seemed to have consumed more alcohol than she could tolerate and the next thing you knew she was laughing like a maniac. You were stuck in a loop circle of smiling so thinly to everyone you get eye contact with.

You distract yourself with admiring the intricate designs of Taehyung's small home, and the thought of a young Taehyung growing up in where you're sitting currently makes your heart jolt. It's uplifting seeing his pictures on the wall, but there was a difference between his smile before and his smile now. One can easily tell which was more true. You had no clue what it's like to be his kind, hell even now you still can't believe what he is. But it sure shows in the way he had changed judging from the innocent photos that hang on the wooden walls. You've never known him since then, yet you wanted to restore this angel-being beaming at the sight of a camera who now hates being in photos because he thinks he's some sort of a monster.

You wanted to ask him about the pictures, the one where he was wearing a towel with a headband, the one where he was framing his face. All of them speak some kind of connection with you, maybe it's your love for photography that makes you feel this way, but innocence is one of the hardest thing to lay your lenses on.

Then you finally got it. What your professor was talking about, drawing something intangible to your camera. This is what he meant. Your gallery is only filled with landscapes, mostly the aesthetic of architecture and nature. Taehyung is what you needed to change the mood of your photos, not the weather, not the dark ambience of Forks, but his story. If only there's a chance for you to grasp his mystery in a single picture, his adventurous smile in one flash.

A pang of pain in your forehead pulls you back into reality, and the lights that stood above you only made it worse. You needed to leave immediately before the pain has you grunting. Welcomed with a wrapping breeze, you brace yourself and regret wearing the dress Sylvia begged you to wear. She said it was her favorite when she was your age, a Prussian blue dress that stops before your knees with tulle around the hem and a lighter blue ribbon on the chest.

Of course Taehyung who sits beside you would notice your leaving, and before you can inhale the fresh air from the porch, he was already asking what's wrong.

"I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna have to go home alone since Sylvia's still occupied," you said, pushing on your temples with your thumb and middle finger.

"I can drive you home. I don't think they'd notice that we left, they're all pretty wasted." He chuckles, complementing the high tones of the strong wind that travels past your bodies.

"I'm really sorry. I'm being rude, I mean this is your party... your birthday party and you're going to drive me home."

He places the sippy cup on a coffee table near the entrance, and he was palming his pocket to reach for his keys.

"It's fine, y/n. The party's been dead four hours ago and I can't send you home alone. Do you have the house key or should I go back inside and ask Sylvia for it?"

"She gave me a duplicate. I think it's best we go now. My head's really killing me."

It was unusual, headaches. They rarely come to you since you monitor your phone usage and water intake. You hate getting them because you hated taking meds for it, and you just hoped Sylvia would have a stock of it. Your fingers have been roaming your forehead for a while yet you can't seem to navigate where the pain is, where it's beating. It would be better if you could massage it along the ride but you were struggling to even keep your fingers raised.

Taehyung stops the car in the middle of somewhere as you are hitting your head continuously on the head rest. It was quiet, a deafening silence that rang your ears that brought you to open your eyes. Taehyung wasn't in his seat anymore, only fog filling for his place crawling under your skin.

There was your breathing, crickets, and rustles of trees that travel the air. You weren't sure how to react but one was definite, you were scared. The hand resting on your thigh turning white and wet, breathing faster and heavier as the air seems to be corrupted with toxic poison that does nothing but suffocate you.

Don't get out of the car, don't get out of the car, you chant internally hoping it will help your situation.

"Hello, dear," a slinky voice says through the window, almost similar to the man— vampire from yesterday. Could it be? Could there be more? "Don't make me wait, dear. Open the door and make this easy for the both of us, hm?"

It sounds the exact same as the accent the man had with an alluring tone that draws you to open the door. However, it wasn't just her tempting attempt into convincing you to endanger yourself, the pain in your head inflates as you try to control yourself.

"You want it hard, my dear?" She smirks, you weren't sure but you hear the spread of the corner of her lips.

Then she was in front of the headlights, filled with rage, her eyes dark and dangerous as she showed her predacious teeth. From here, you can feel the vibration of her anger as if she had the ability to let you feel all the harnessed emotions inside her. You can count them one by one: anger, vengeance, and the feeling you get before success. None of them were positive emotions, none of them was mercy. She came here to accomplish one thing.

Your death.

Finally understanding it, inside her browbeating eyes were agony and mourning. She was here to avenge the death of the vampire that Taehyung had killed. She was as beautiful, as seductive with her pale skin and ruby lips, curly strawberry blonde hair that flows until her shoulders.

You discovered that there was a split second of slow agonizing memory of your life before it's taken, and you wished there was none. She runs towards you, careless whether she bashes her head into the glass. She takes your neck, her fingers poking specifically at the sides and right before you can regain your breath your eyes open.

Gasping and catching air, awakening in the seat with Taehyung by your side who drives in silence as Midnight Rambler by The Rolling Stones plays from his rusty stereo.

So if you ever meet the midnight rambler

I'm coming down your marble hall

Well, he's pouncing like a proud black panther

Well, you can say I, I told you so

He sits there, unaware of the chaos that repeats in your head. It all felt so real, the grasp on your neck that locks your throat, you could've sworn you've given your last breath. The pain had stopped, replaced by dizziness that you knew would pass as minutes go by.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is there something on my face?"

You shake your head. "I didn't know I was staring."

That's right. You didn't know you were staring. There was so much comfort in knowing he never left, the heat of his presence brings you a feeling of security. It's okay now. Taehyung's still here. By your side.

Once reaching home, Taehyung does his best to assist you as though you were ill. It's cute how he acts that way, so careful, so gentle. Upon reaching your room, Taehyung stops before your bedroom door, almost waiting for an invitation.

"I should get going now. I'll tell Sylvia you felt sick." And before he could say good bye, you're already wrapping yourself in the blankets as he passively makes a step away from your door.

"Taehyung," you said, reaching out. "Thank you for today."

He doesn't turn back. "You're welcome. Also, thank you for coming."

A shiver spreads across your back when your lids start to fall, and your body jolts upwards. The beautiful woman from the early nightmare visits your mind again, her face inches from yours close to ripping it apart.

"Taehyung," you whispered, but he heard you within the thin walls of the lonely house. "Can you... stay for a sec? I... I had a nightmare earlier... felt so real. C-can you?"

He walks back, eyes landing everywhere except your body that waits for him on the bed. Is she serious? he thought as you opened the blankets for a space behind you.

"Until you fall asleep?"

You nod. He kicks off his shoes and he positions himself behind you, both of your breaths synchronizing as he lies down softly. You bury your cheek into the pillow when you feel his warmth wrap the room, the security coming back. You turn your head to see him watching you inches away, his hand keeping his head up as he rests his cheek against it. You take his free hand that lies on his right side, pulling it to your stomach requesting for him to scoot closer until his body brushes your back.

You can stay like this, for longer than you can imagine. Just the sounds of your breaths and the hums of his loud thumping heart that makes its way to your upper back, the release of breath from his nostrils that flies over your hair. Peaceful. Safe and sound.

In his embrace, you forget everything: the packing for Los Angeles, the fear of not getting into any university, the supernatural that you had discovered that you still cannot comprehend, the clouding fear that something is coming to get you. In his arm, it's like they never existed. The worries are nothing but disappearing sea foams, a water in heat that evaporates into thin air.

You enclose the hold in Taehyung's hand above your stomach, intertwining them for ease. Falling back into his embrace, he subtly moves away hoping you wouldn't notice. His warmth turning into heat, breathing ragged, hold on you tighter and stronger. Then you feel it, a gentle thrust behind you and he pretends to adjust position. He pulls you closer with the hand on your stomach and you sigh which caused a poking at your butt.

You may not be the smartest person on earth, but it doesn't take a book to know what it was. Taehyung murmurs an apology, his words passing by your neck which sends your stomach into a spiral. You rub your thighs together hoping to dissipate the throbbing in your core, not now.

Not now that Taehyung's beside you. Or maybe it should be now that Taehyung's beside you, you were open for a helping hand. His hand over your head tucks a strand of your hair, the finger brushing on your temple made your aching much harder to ignore. There would be no distraction, no having to worry about who will hear the both of you, for God's sake the house was built in the middle of nowhere, so you thought 'Fuck it.'

You tug his hand to the middle of your chest, to rest them between your breasts as your head turns to face him. He gulps, looking at you intently with lust hovering over his hooded eyes. You lean towards him, your lips reaching his and he pulls away for a second before diving back in. He had pillowy lips, and if it weren't for your hot need at the moment you would let your lips sleep on them for a longer while, but as of right now there are a lot of tensions that need handling.

You leave his hand on your chest while he's still shy to grope one of your breasts. Your hand then wrapping the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, he sighs. That sigh caused the aching to grow, shaking your behind to feel how needy he was and he sighs again. His hand that was on your chest now pushes below the curves of your breasts to pull you closer, to have more friction, to thrust into you.

Until he couldn't take it anymore, he wants you below him as much as you want him on top of you. He hovers above you, his knee swift in spreading your thighs open and he is bucking in a steady pace on your clothed entrance.

"Take me, Taehyung," you breathe the second he leaves your lips.

He takes it slow, burning your insides, as his fingers pull the bow on your chest, untying the effortless knot you had made in the mirror. Too slow to keep up with your throbbing heat, you trail his hand to open the loose front, exposing

your nude bra. His eyes are pinned on yours, and you would make quick glances at his moderate hand you're directing. You unclasp the front of your bra, and when he hears it setting on the bed, he kisses you as if asking if you were really sure. Beneath the feverish endless kiss were words of fear from him, what if he wasn't truly ready.

The last time he had experienced this was long ago, a time before he knew how dangerous he could be. Careless of what his hands could bring, when he hadn't given a single thought for any of his actions. Well, it was one time, only once with the first girl he had ever loved. And the first was always the quickest, but it was unforgettable, he had kept every detail of her daisy fresh skin remembered under his fingertips. The laughs they had shared in between, a significance of the innocence they were about to lose. His head loses in doubts, questions that can only be answered if he risks hurting you tonight.

Then you whisper, "It's okay, you're not going to hurt me." Because in your mind, that was the last thing in his abilities. You smile, "It's okay." Rubbing circles at the back of his trembling hand, his jaw clenches.

Once he had started kissing you again, you parted his lips with your tongue in which he had replied with a tender bite causing you to moan within your throat. This motivates him to grope your breast, aggressing as seconds pass by, pulling a nipple in between his fingers and you arch your back. You rest your feet on his back, synchronizing with the movement of his hips. You admire the way his head moves downward, stopping after every inch of your skin to place a soft kiss until he reaches your breasts to which he places a long stripe lick moving from one bud to another while his eyes remain on yours. He's going to be the death of you.

You pant, trying to reach his hips that came to a halt. His hands pushing the hem of your dress higher, stopping at the middle of your waist. And his evil slow hands, still taking his time, move behind your thighs to pull them away from his back and placing them on his shoulders as he gets comfortable right between them. With gaze pierced on yours, he flats his lips on your clothed slit, tracing the wet spot visible in your white underwear. The thought of you being almost naked underneath the dress ever since earlier brought Taehyung into insanity, he could've fucked you with his fingers on the couch, he could've removed them and left your pussy out in the open as he keeps it in his pocket, he could've done so many things if only he knew earlier how much you'd wanted him just the same.

You look at the empty ceiling, too affected by the darkness in his stare, you were scared you would cum too quickly if you remain watching. He pulls your garment upward to put his bare thumb against your clit, until you couldn't take it and you look down again to see him putting the said thumb in his mouth. Sweeter than the cranberry juice he'd been tolerating to drink, adding that to the list he could've done earlier while your panties were in his pocket; enjoying the sweet fervor of your cunt on his tongue. He plays at your clit, tongue curling to lap up the wetness that increases as his spit mixes in. He knows so well what he's doing, the fragile scoop of his bottom lip from your opening to your clit where he stops.

Everywhere around his lips glistens as the bright light from the hallway outside your room shines upon them. His hands still holding your thighs steady, he slips his tongue inside you which has you shaking and he had to adjust the control in his grip. Once they've settled, he puts his touch above your breasts, flicking both buds in each hand.

You were crumbling under him, desperate for release, grunting in a throaty voice as you tried to keep yourself together. Tears huddle in your eyes, blurring your vision until he stops, now smiling above you while he pulls your underwear away from your body. It doesn't take long for him to get naked and you take time to admire his build. His skin was made of honey, toned and reflective of the warmth he emits. His cock slapping his tummy before he could fully get out of his tight boxers, his tip reaching his button.

He returns to his position between your thighs but this time around he was the one to wrap your legs around his waist. His shaft falls between your slit and he makes subtle movements in burying himself between them.

"I just want to say," he began, "how amazing you are." A gravelly moan of your name escapes his lips as you take matters in your own hand, thumb going over the head of his cock while the rest of your fingers rest wraps his cock.

He thrusts into your hand. His face forming wrinkles, frustration painted across his face. Until he falls on both arms caging your head, bucking for more friction, enjoying the suppleness of your touch. He was groaning, panting, and making a mess of himself to which all echoes from one wall to another. You put a hand on his abdomen to break his movement. He obeys, feeling you part yourself for his cock, torturously slow in entering you.

You pull your hands to your sides, getting a hold of Taehyung's biceps. Opening your lids to watch his pupils dilate as he rams the rest of his length inside your beating entrance.

"Y/n," he groans, brow knotting together when you clench around him. He's going to fall apart, he thought. You wrap him tighter, letting go of yourself in ecstasy, careless whether you melt into the bed or break it, all is well as long as you're looking into his eyes.

He chants your name again and again in a symphony of continuous moaning, and all you could say is how good he sounds. A compilation of ah's and oh's whenever he reaches your spot, his head brushing against it and it felt like nothing but heaven. More, he wants more, if only he could fuck you endlessly he would. The bed hits the wall in coordination of his sharp thrusts, and he's losing himself in you he couldn't care less if he breaks the walls. In sync with the sounds he makes were your gasps and high-pitched whispers of his name that he can see himself in the near future thinking of them and fucking himself alone in his room as he recalls them.

"Tae— oh fuck, Taehyung," you cried out causing his cock to twitch inside you, you call out for more. His name and a couple of curses were the only words you could spew out. Trembling, you feel an explosion of euphoria inside you, letting go of the tight grip around Taehyung's arm.

With one last fluid thrust, he pulls himself out and spills himself on top of your stomach. Both of your breathing slows until they were no longer audible. He rolls to his back beside you waiting to cool down and you take care of yourself by wiping his cum away with the tissue from the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, I made a mess," he says, breaking silence.

You didn't reply, instead you lie on your side to face him and wrap his cock in your warm hand. His cock still hard and wet under your touch, he breathes out a long sigh. "I made a mess of you too."

He chuckles before placing one last kiss on your forehead, and you watch him fall into his dreams. You shut the door, thankful Sylvia didn't come home during the circumstances earlier. You make a note not to leave it open next time.

Next time? Were you actually hoping for a next time? It's not long until you're leaving. Forks is not your home. Your home is on the other side of the country, and everything you grew up with awaits there. Forks is not your home, you tell yourself. The night grows along with your need for sleep, falling onto Taehyung's chest and getting lost in a slumber. You wake to Sylvia opening the door, an indication of her coming home, and you fall asleep again.

The next time you wake up, the sun shining alight from the windows to your eyes, Taehyung was sitting at the end of the bed fully clothed. His head turns slightly, feeling the sense of your waking.

"Y/n, there's not just one who wants to kill you," he says but you couldn't make out a single word, "there's a whole coven of them."

a/n: happy new year! pls dont take the bella comment seriously. also team jacob ftw!!! also appreciate my banner work owo.this is my first descriptive smut like i actually write them having sex idk i hope yall like it tho :* i love y’all!

#taehyung #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #kth smut #smut #bts smut #bangtan #bts scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts reactions #bts #jungkook #jimin #rm #jin #hoseok #yoongi #angst

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and-it-freezes-me · 3 years

Text

Little Red Lies - Chapter 1

Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating

{Next}

Words: 5,439

[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]

Trash Rat 22:57

[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]

Trash Rat 22:58

Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.

[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]

Roman 23:04

[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]

Trash Rat 23:06

[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]

Trash Rat 23:06

[even tho its been 2 yrs now]

Trash Rat 23:07

[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]

Roman 23:07

Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).

[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]

Trash Rat 23:10

[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]

Roman 23:11

[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]

Trash Rat 23:11

Roman threw his phone across the room.

It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.

Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.

When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.

Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.

Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.

They couldn’t.

Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.

Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.

Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.

He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.

“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.

Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”

“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.

“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”

“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.

“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”

The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”

“No! We’re going to a club!”

Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”

“You’re pulling my ha-”

“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”

“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“-ealthy, and- What?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.

“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”

“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.

Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”

“You fucked yet?”

“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.

“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”

“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.

He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).

But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.

He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.

But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.

Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.

Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.

He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.

In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.

His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.

So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.

He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.

At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.

Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.

[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]

Pops 23:25

Patton.

[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]

Roman 23:26

[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]

Pops 23:26

[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]

Roman 23:27

Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.

Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.

The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.

Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-

“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.

“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”

Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.

Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.

Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.

The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.

He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.

“Obviously.”

Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.

Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.

Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.

“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.

Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”

“Are you-”

“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.

Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.

Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.

Besides, he was exhausted.

Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.

How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…

Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.

That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.

The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!

He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!

Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.

This was the best idea he’d ever had.

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”

“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.

Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.

“Ow!”

“That was entirely your fault.”

“You just slammed the door on my foot!”

“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”

Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”

“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.

“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”

“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”

“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”

“Studying! I have exams to pass!”

“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”

“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”

Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”

The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.

“Please, Logan!”

Silence.

“I’ll be forever in your debt!”

More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?

“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.

Oh-

“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”

Roman held his breath and waited.

And waited.

Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.

“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”

“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”

“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.

“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”

“What?”

“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”

Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”

Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”

“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.

“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”

“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”

“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”

He had a point.

Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”

“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”

“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”

“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”

Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).

Groupchat: Princes and Co.

[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]

Roman 09:58

[a name!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]

Pops 10:01

[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]

Emo Nightmare 10:02

[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]

Emo Nightmare 10:04

[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]

Padre 10:04

[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]

Trash Rat 10:04

Several people are typing…

[Suck a dick, Remus]

Emo Nightmare 10:05

[we did, actually]

Pops 10:05

[would but janjans at work :((]

Trash Rat 10:06

[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]

Roman 10:06

[Pat!]

Emo Nightmare 10:06

[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]

Snake Eyes 10:06

Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.

[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]

Trash Rat 10:07

[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]

Emo Nightmare 10:07

[No I didn’t tell Janus!]

Roman 10:07

[I’m omniscient.]

Snake Eyes 10:08

[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]

Snake Eyes 10:09

[You and your sister scare me]

Roman 10:11

[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]

Snake Eyes 10:11

[Told you. He’s shy]

Roman 10:12

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.

Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.

No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.

#AUgust 2021 #fake dating au #logince #moxiety #dukeceit

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arhvste · 4 years

Text

MIYA OSAMU - BUN IN THE OVEN

- summary - working alongside your husband brings moments of domesticity outside your home which you reveal is about to become a little bigger - fluff - x f reader

- an - this was based off of this ask an anon sent in earlier today, i’ve posted atsumu fic that links to this one !! thank you for the idea it was nice to write domestic samu :) this is also for @zumisace because i know you love samu and i love u >:)

“Oi, Samu! Stop flirtin with ya wife right in front’a me and get cookin, I’m starvin!” Atsumu whined as he rested his head against the kitchen prep counter which was currently occupied with countless cooking utensils scattered across the cool metal surface and various ingredients dotted around.

“Yer just jealous I have a gorgeous wife and you don’t” With a smug smile, Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist bringing you in close enough for him to press a quick kiss to your flour dusted cheek.

“Yuck! Not over the food I’m beggin ya!”

You giggled and pulled your husband back in close to you before turning to give a quick smile to his irritated twin.

“Perhaps we should find you a girlfriend Tsumu! I know a few people who I’m sure would be at least willing to go out on a date with you.”

“Yeah, you’d probably have to pay em first!”

You and your husband laughed lightly at the setter’s expense causing him to groan and sit up straight.

“I have plenty of girls linin up for me dont’cha worry bout that!”

Osamu snickered and motioned for his brother to take a tray of freshly prepped onigiri out to the front of the store.

“Yer damn right ya got a line waitin for ya, or more specifically, they’re waitin for ya to bring more food out so get to it.”

Atsumu grumbled but obliged as he slumped off the stool and took the tray with ease out to the front where drooling customers were waiting to pounce on any fresh batch of onigiri they could.

“You’re so mean to him sometimes.” You hummed as you continued to shape the rice into the correct size triangles as Osamu cut seaweed grass into accurate rectangles.

“It’s all outta love darlin.” He offered a warm smile to which you happily returned. “Of course he’s gonna be jealous I have a gorgeous, helpful and amazin wife! Anyone would be jealous.”

You blushed at his words and flicked him lightly leaving small dust prints of flour on his apron. “So gross!” You whined only for him to pull you into his chest and get you to look up at his handsome face.

Despite the fact the Miya brothers were twins, you still couldn’t help but find Osamu significantly more attractive than his older twin. This was even before you’d fallen for the man. There was just something about him that made him more desirable, not intending to offend Atsumu for he definitely wasn’t someone you’d consider unattractive. Perhaps it was his mature and responsible traits or maybe it was his hardworking and determination that drew you in. It didn’t matter either way though. You loved Osamu Miya for everything he was, physical and personal traits all included. He was the man you fell in love with and he was the man who had wanted you to become ‘Mrs Miya’, a title he often liked to refer to you as.

Osamu leaned down and rested his forehead on yours sighing softly. Caressing your cheek with his warm calloused hands, he pulled your face closer to his and pressed a warm and delicate kiss to your lips before securing his hand at the base of your neck while the other found its way around to the small on your back, drawing small circles with his index finger as he tenderly kissed you.

He was always good at catching you in these moments, Osamu never shied away from showing affection towards you whenever you had a second of privacy. The long hours he worked at his restaurants and home office took a toll on your time spent together, only making his levels of clinginess heighten until eventually it would snap and he’d refuse to keep his hands off of you when he’d get to see you again.

When you had suggested helping him in the restaurant he wasn't opposed to the idea at all. He knew he could count on you and that you were more than capable at cooking after being with him for so long. He loved the feel of getting to be domestic with you outside of the warm and loving home the two of you shared.

Finally pulling away, Osamu admired the soft twinkle in your eyes that he always found himself getting lost in.

“God, I’m lucky yer my girl, my favourite, beautiful girl.”

You hummed gently as you wrapped your arms around his small waist.

“Well, I hope you’re ready to potentially let me share the title of your ‘favourite girl’...”

Osamu’s eyebrow quirked in confusion as he muttered a puzzled “huh?” before you pulled one of your arms up to cup his warm cheek.

“I’m pregnant Samu…”

His eyes widened as he searched for any sign of insincerity in your expression. Then again, you weren’t one to pull a joke like this on him in such an atmosphere, you had to be telling the truth.

“Samu?” your voice laced with concern and worry as your husbands mouth stayed shut as he studied your form with soft but shocked eyes.

“Sorry! For real? Like, yer not playin with me are ya?”

“Of course not!”

Osamu felt tears prick in the corners on his eyes and wasted no time grabbing you by the waist and lifting you in the air in pure glee.

“I’m gonna be a dad? Fuck, I love you so so much y/n!” He laughed joyously as you let your own laughter intermix with his own.

Your home was about to become a family home and Osamu couldn’t have been happier. Not only did he marry the woman he loved, but now alongside you, he was going to get to raise a child the two of you had made together. A million different scenarios and questions ran through his mind as he placed you back down and wrapped you in a tight embrace. Would they look more like him or more like you? Were you going to bring your child to work some days or should he take time off. Would his kid be able to tell the difference between him and Atsumu? Would his kid even like onigiri? Oh, who cared? Right now, the most important thing on his mind was how much he loved you and wanted this with you.

Hushed but excited mutters of ‘I love you’ were traded between the two of you as Osamu peppered your face in soft kisses. Absolutely everything was right with the world in that very moment.

“Samu! Yer gotta get out there! Animals I’m tellin ya! Absolute animals out there! It’s like feeding hour at the zoo!”

Well, almost everything was right in the world.

“Comin yer idiot.” Osamu sighed before pulling away from you after you wiped his eyes.

“Thank fuck and- oh! Were ya crying ya little pissbaby?” Atsumu snorted when he saw his brothers slightly reddend eyes.

“Oh please, yer the only pissbaby here with yer stupid corn coloured hair.”

“It’s been toned since highschool actually, Bokkun taught me how to do it so I’d appreciate it if yer acknowledged that.”

“Whatever and besides, ya can call me pissbaby however much ya like but just thought I’d tell ya, I’m the one thats gonna be the dad to a real baby soon so shut yer trap!”

Atsumu’s mouth gaped open as he looked between you and your husband, surprise shown in his expression. You shook your head at the brothers typical bickering and strode over to the two of them grabbing another tray of freshly prepped onigiri to take out to desperate customers.

“I hope we don’t end up with twins.” You muttered as both boys snickered following out behind you as Atsumu bragged back to Osamu that his kid was gonna like ‘Uncle Atsumu’ more than his own father to which Osamu childishly quarreled back.

Nevermind a child, these two were enough for you to handle for now, but you just couldn't wait for your own angel to enter the world and had no worry in the world as you knew they’d have the best dad in the world and a semi-decent uncle.

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @tsukishimagizzard @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206

#osamu miya #osamu x reader #osamu x you #osamu fic #osamu scenario #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #hq

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

Note

Hello I just wanted to say ur amazing writer and I was wondering if I can request Winchester brother x sister reader where the reader is the youngest Winchester maybe around 16- 17 you can choose the fits but I was hoping u can do like where the reader is depressed and has ED (eating disorder ) and doesn’t tell the brothers and one day it gets worse and passed out the brothers are worried trying to help her out but it hard for her I hope this ok if not I can do different request it just I found comfort in angst topics with struggles I go through you know sorry if this doesn’t makes sense

It started years ago. To be exact it started when your father lost it, going mental on your oldest brother Dean. The three of you were thick as thieves and it physically hurt to see the complete and utter destruction your father left behind for Dean to clean up.

Living your life on the road was okay, you had two great older brothers that kept you up. Kept you in good spirits but it's hard when your whole world around you is crashing. You know it, your family knows but no one else.

How Dean and Sam ever dealt with the massive weight on their shoulders. It blew your mind. You. You weren't worth anything, especially not your mother burning on the ceiling. Your father resented you. You didn't need him to say it, because you could tell. Dean was his soldier, Sam was the disappointment, but the smartest out of the three of you. But you, you were the reason all four of you were in this mess. The reason why John was searching for that revenge every day.

Covering it up with the idea of saving people, but you were smart, so very smart. Sam had complimented you many times on your quickness, and sharpness when it came to the lore, but regarding your father, it was never the approval you were looking for.

Lots of things happened, to get you to the age of seventeen and drowning in the pit of your stomach all because you all no desire to be here anymore. You weren't helping your older brothers you were just in the way.

In the way of progress, a major setback to them. For them to prove to John that they would be like him, do like him. They'd have to leave you behind. It was for the best.

It started off as a way to conserve the little food the four of you had. At the ripe age of seven you learned quickly that offering your food to Sam was a better idea, or skipping off to lay in a shitty motel bed was better than eating. Yes your stomach would growl and the acid would burn, but anything to keep the weight of your brother off your shoulders.

As you grew up you learned that if you stayed at school as long as you could it was the best. Dean had just learned how to drive driving was his passion, reading was Sam. And yours... yours was to stay away, out of the way.

By the age of fifteen, you had your patterned packed down and tight. You leave with Sam since he drove you to school, and since he was a senior. You felt a wave of dizziness almost every morning. The night's dinner is still wrapped in its paper bag. Claiming to take it for lunch. Dean never argued with you. Kiss your forehead and hitting the pillow quicker than he hit on the girls that passed by the motel's door.

Your father was already starting to become absent. The shadow of what a perfect family no one ever talked about. You thrived in the school building though. Sam kissed your forehead his height greatly giving him the advantage before saying his goodbyes to you and running to meet with his senior friends.

You walked alone in the hallways. The bullying started almost immediately the second you stepped into the building. Near of my brothers were aware of the shit I went through on a daily basis. Years later they still weren't.

You had settled on never telling them about my dislike for eating, you hoped and prayed most night that they'd never find out. It was better without their acknowledgment of your weakness. Who knows they might be the same way everyone was at school.

The last year had been hard for you and your brothers, your father making less, and less of an effort with all three of you. Your relationship was already straining to stay alive, the burning and hurt in the bit of your stomach was something that was constant now, and from what you could tell it wasn't going to get any better.

Your brothers are now in their early 20's still taking care of their baby sister. Nights you guys sat down for dinner were odd, without John there. The quiet days where a now older Sam would drive you to school, along by yourself all day long. The teasing being relentless.

The whole idea, you were constantly dizzy, constantly on the verge of falling asleep no matter if you were in class, or at the crappy motel room with your brothers.

Tonight though, tonight your world fell apart as you walked in through the door, your final year of schooling was just starting your summer of staying inside and reading was over. The hot day of September had gotten to you more than you were willing to say. As you walked in through the motel door, the cool air hitting you in your face, and the hot air of the evening summer day kicking you in your ass.

It was too much, down you and your light bookbag went. Dean had been on one of the motels' beds when he heard you fall, Sam behind hadn't been able to catch you even with his long arms.

You don' remember much. You do remember hearing the sounds of your brothers frantically rushing around the room, one dropping his gun, and the other rushing over to your side.

"Dean what the hell just happened?" Sam asked in a frantically worried voice. "I don't know all I heard was the engine of Baby, and then her fall to the floor," Dean said rushing to your thin frame. Neither had noticed until now when they finally had time to pay attention to their baby sister that she was rather thinner than a normal seventeen-year-old.

Paler then normal, "Sam do you notice it?" Dean asked as Sam pulled the lightweight bookbag from your small shoulders. A small hum came from Sams's lips, maybe it was too much to say it. The words making truth when they leave his lips.

Sam picked you up feeling just how boney you were. "How did we let her get this bad Dean?" He questioned, Dean kept his head down grabbing her bag and following behind Sam to the bed's side.

When you woke up your two brothers were talking quietly in the tiny kitchen. Sam saw you try to get up their conversation stopped at a halt, and they both came over to help you.

Quiet overcame the room. Dean was the first to speak. "How are you feeling, Y/n?" He asked, you shrugged your shoulders, the ache in your body was strong, but not enough to make that your brother's problems.

"Y/n please be honest with us... Is this the first time something like this has happened?" Your brother Sam asked. Swallowing hard, before talking you answered Dean's question. "I feel fine guys really nothing to worry about." Answering Sams was going to be harder, you don't really remember the last time something like this happened, maybe last week in school, maybe a few years ago. "I don't remember Sam." That was all you said. Sad expression littered their coarse and worn faces.

"Y/n, how long have been like this?" Dean asked, furrowed brows as he asked the question. "Like what?" You replied. "Like how you don't eat at dinner and think we don't notice, how long Y/n? Just answer please." Dean said.

You tried opening your mouth, but the pressure of being truthful with your brothers was overbearing. Trying again and still, nothing slipped out. Sam ur interrupted your train of thought. "Since dad started on with his hunt for yellow eyes?" Simple questions always have a simple answer.

"If you want an honest answer I'd say seven or eight." You said, pushing yourself up from laying in the bed to sitting up against the headboard. The gasps for air were real between your two brothers. One hand came to rest on top of yours while the other paced around the motel room.

Your guess as to which was mad, and empathic wasn't hard for you. Dean pacing around the room meant he was angry, and Sam's empathic hand on top of yours meant he to wanted help. "Why didn't you tell us?" Dean questioned me, Sam turned to look at his older brother. "That won't help, we were talking remember. We need to help her, bot questions her about her actions or even her reason why." Sam said, Dean, calm down as he continued to pace.

Sam returned his attention to you. Hand still laying on top of yours, "Y/n why don't we, all the three of us help you yeah?" He said you laughed a little and Dean looked up from his pacing feet. "I don't think you guys could ever help me. I've been and felt this way for ten years now. This is just how I am now. Broken and worthless to this Winchester family." You said the strain of holding back was harder than you thought. Dean had paused his pacing staring at you and Sams's hand had engulfed yours.

Dean came over, putting his finger under your chin, grabbing your attention. "You listen here, to Sam and I. We care more about you than you'll ever know. We don't care what any person thinks, we don't care about Dad as much as we care about our little sister. Now believe me when we say that all we want to do is help you, helping you is what Sam and I are here for. Y/n you aren't alone, you aren't, worthless, and you most definitely aren't broken. We can help you all you have to do is let us in." Dean said sitting down next to you when he was down.

"We love you and don't wanna see so much potential be wasted especially when we knew we could have helped you," Sam added. You were having a hard time believing them, but nothing would stop you from trying especially when you had your brothers by your side.

#anon tag #send me anons #sweet anons #thanks anon #anon headcanons #anons welcome #lovely anon #anon #anon request #supernaturalagnst #supernatualfluff #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural #supernatural x reader

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marrys-dream-world · 3 years

Text

if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter 11)

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Notes: Double update to cheer up a bit! This chapter turned out much longer than I thought it would be, almost double the size of other chapters. No content warning, just fluff! The song "Blueming" by IU, I think this fits this chapter a lot so if you want a song to listen while you read, it's that! Day 11: Voice Mail/Phone calls. @ladynoirjuly

After their last patrol, Ladybug sent Chat Noir a link through their communicators.

[Download this!!] She sent along with it, eagerly waiting for him.

[As my lady commands : D] He sent back almost immediately.

That talk had been a bit of an eye-opener to Marinette. She was getting to know Chat Noir more and more each day and she treasured every bit of information she got, jealousy holding it close to chest, hesitating to write it even in her diary. He was a quiet student during class, he had a friend whose name was definitely not Sallie (ugh), his father was distant, his mother and mother-figure were out of reach. He was lonely. All this information was worrying, just not as much as what she learned that night. At that moment, with him shaking in her arms, she made a decision.

Being there for him just as Ladybug wasn't going to cut it anymore.

This idea wasn't anything new, she had been playing with it in her mind for a while now. So when she sent him a chat room code through her communicator with other instructions and detransformed, she was fairly confident it would work. Picking up her phone, she smiles as she saw that there was already a message.

My lady!! <3 <3 <3

down, Chaton. :)

I'm just mdlaomqnahsbsk

Is it okay, though? Talking like this?

yeah, i've been testing this app with RR and it's fine, there's no way we'll leak our numbers or anything like that to each other. don't worry ;)

This app is to warn each other about attacks and schedule meetings? Are you going to add RR to the chat?

nah, i'll just make one for the 3 of us. this is one for us to talk and stuff, doesn't need to be about job things.

The "CN is typing…" kept it's place on the screen for enough time for her to start getting worried.

You don't need to force yourself for my sake, bug. I don't want to bother you.

Marinette thought about making a joke. The situation, however, didn't seem right for it.

you never bother me.

His response came almost immediately.

You never texted me before.

guess i'll have to learn what's the maximum amount of cat memes a person can humanely send per day

Is that a challenge, my lady?

;) ;) ;)

just remember to not blow up my phone, we have class

I'll use my powers for good, don't worry : D

Marinette smiled and put down her phone, fixing up her bag for the next day on the chance (certainty) that she would wake up late the next day. When she picked the phone up again, there was a single text:

Thank you, bug. Good night.

He was absolutely unstoppable after that. Next morning, as she was brushing her teeth, her cell phone pinged with the telling sound from the app and she smiled as she opened the app on her phone.

Look, look, we can change each other's names.

good to know

You changed "CN" 's name to "Chat-terbox"

Chat-terbox

You know me so well. Soulmates.

Chat-terbox changed your name to "lady of my heart"

lady of my heart

yeah, i should have seen that coming, that's on me.

oh yeah, gm

Chat-terbox

Good morning <3 <3 <3

Are you in class already?

Marinette froze in place, eyes snapping to the clock. There was only ten minutes before the class started. She bolted, barely noticing if she had on the right shoes or if her jacket matched her pants. So much for being an aspiring designer. Marinette blurred past the kitchen, taking a croissant and a banana and cramming them into her mouth as she ran. She made it to the classroom in the middle of the roll call, not even stopping by the lockers.

“Thanks for joining us, Marinette.” Ms. Bustier said dryly. “Please take a seat.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” She answered, out of breath. Sitting down, she took out her tablet and noticed another message making her phone screen glow.

Chat-terbox

Is everything okay?

lady of my heart

i made it late in class but the teacher let me in hehehe

i think she's used to it *forehead sweatdrop emoji*

Chat-terbox

Hahaha a friend of mine just did the same thing, you two are twins

lady of my heart

let me guess… Sallie *eyeroll emoji*

Chat-terbox

I mean, yeah, but why the eyeroll???

lady of my heart

you just talk too much about her, don't you think

Chat-terbox

You sound just like Plagg.

lady of my heart

maybe bc we're right

Chat-terbox

Why does that bother you? Jealous? *eyes emoji*

lady of my heart

as if *kicks u*

Chat-terbox

You kick your partner? You kick his body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for my lady! Jail for my lady for One Thousand Years!

lady of my heart

since my fate is already decided *kicks u again*

Chat-terbox

Nooooooooo

A giggle escaped her mouth.

"Marinette?" Ms. Bustier raised an eyebrow. "Something you want to share with the class?"

"N-no, ma'am." She answered, face heating up. Marinette quietly put her phone away, ignoring Alya's prying eyes.

She only opened the app again during the break between classes, moving away from a curious Alya to hang by Kim and Alíx.

Chat-terbox

I'll assume you're actually paying attention to class, which is great. You probably need it to make up all those crazy plans ;)

SM beaten by ninth grade physics

Hey, boo, did you see this one SM identity theory video making rounds on the internet?

Marinette frowned.

lady of my heart

there's nothing new on the ladyblog

Chat-terbox

Oh, it's not on the Ladyblog, here

She opened the video as quickly as she could before Ms. Bustier came back, only from the sound to make Kim and Alíx burst out into laughter.

lady of my heart

i opened it in my class I hate u so muuuuuch ughhhhhh

Chat-terbox

C'mon, boo, it was funny

lady of my heart

>: (

Chat-terbox

: 3

This time, she willingly put her phone away.

On the next break, she tried to ignore the pinging from her phone. However, curiosity killed the cat(‘s lady).

Chat-terbox

Please don't be mad, my lady, I have written you a lengthy apology to make up for sins

File attachment: apology letter for my beloved.doc

lady of my heart

if it's another rickroll i swear to god i'll END you

Chat-terbox

You can see it's not a video, it's safe to open

Scout's honor

lady of my heart

u were never a scout

Chat-terbox

I could be!!

Please read <3

Sighing deeply, she clicked on the document. He would never shut up if she didn't. It read as:

l would like to offer my sincerest According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible…

She clicked back

Chat-terbox

Did you like it? :3

lady of my heart

…

blocked

Chat-terbox

Boo, noooooooo

After that, Marinette didn’t open the app again no matter how much her phone pinged. She wasn’t mad, not really, just a bit annoyed. Before lunch ended, she would read and answer. But now, she was stuck watching Alya and Nino play Super Penguino and make moon eyes at each other. Adrien wasn’t allowed to join them, as much as he begged his father, and she was feeling pretty bummed about that. She poked around her chicken pasta when she heard her phone playing a familiar song.

kore nani kore nani korenanikorenanikorenanikorenani-

Chat Noir!

"Is everything okay?" Marinette asked as soon as she picked up the phone. Alya and Nino, noticing her worried tone, paused their game to look at her.

"You picked up!" Chat Noir said, cheery. "I thought you blocked me."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Is there actually something wrong? I'll hang up "

"No, wait!" He yelped. "There's nothing wrong, I just wanted to talk. Are you busy?"

Marinette looked over at Nino and Alya, who were still watching her expectantly. She smiles reassuringly and waved them away, furtively signaling to Alya that it was Chat Noir on the phone. Her friend nodded and bumped her shoulder on Nino's.

"C'mon, babe, let Marinette talk to her 'friend' by herself." Alya said, leering.

"Why did you say it like that?" Nino asked, confused. Then, his eyes lit up. "Is it Adrien? Tell him I said hi!"

"No!" Marinette shouted, gaining weird stares from the other patrons.

"No, you aren't busy?" Chat Noir asked on the phone.

"No, it's not Adrien, or no, you won't tell him I said hi?" Nino asked.

"It's another friend." She said hurriedly before focusing on the phone. "I can talk now, not that busy."

"If you're with your friends, it's okay." He said, rather meekly for her chaton.

"I'm just third-wheeling." Marinette said as Alya and Nino began another round of Super Penguins. "Why did you call? Aren't you having lunch now?"

Chat Noir chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, I'm having lunch at home and I'm all alone, so I thought I could give you a call. Is that too much?"

"No, it's fine." She reassured. "Why are you alone? What about your siblings?"

"What siblings?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Uh… the siblings I assumed you had for some reason." She said awkwardly, noticing how out there she sounded the more she spoke.

"Really? You thought I had siblings? Why?"

"Because you're just like an annoying little brother." She said teasingly, a complete lie.

Chat Noir struck her as a mischievous, but supportive older brother. The kind that sneaked you treats after midnight and comforted you after failing a math test. Not like she could tell him that, though. If he was a little brother, it would be to a stressed older sister that he admired a lot and that found him reliable in return. She dreamed about meeting them sometimes and now it seemed that they would truly stay dreams forever.

"I would like an older brother or sister." He sighed longingly. "The closest I have is my cousin, but he lives in another country."

"Oh, sorry."

"No, it's better this way, we would kill each other if we lived together. Everyday I would have to check for poison in my breakfast."

"A true sibling dynamic."

"Yep."

"Hey, why aren't you having lunch with your friends then?" With Sallie, she wanted to tease, but held back for fear of sounding, as Tikki said, bitter.

"My father would rather I have lunch at home." He said vaguely. "My friends did invite me to go with them to a café, but my father didn't like the idea. He only likes one of them, the rest he says are bad influences."

"Let me guess, the one he likes is Sallie?"

"I can hear you rolling your eyes, but yes."

"Well, if you ever get lonely at lunch, you can call me." Marinette said honestly. "I don't mind it."

"Thank you." Chat Noir said softly.

They spent the rest of lunch talking on the phone, even sending pictures of their food to each other (Chat's limp salad made her take a bunch of mental notes to take him some pastries next patrol). On the way to school, as she walked to the classroom, they kept talking. She could hear Chat getting on a vehicle (a bus?) and when he got to school, she was disappointed he had to hang up. After Marinette clicked the end call button, the first thing she noticed when she looked up was Alya's smug face and Nino's confused one.

"Wow, does my bro have some competition, dude?" Nino said. "You spent the entire break talking."

"What? No, that was just a friend!"

"Yeah, a friend." Alya sing-songed, making her face heat up.

"Yeah." Marinette said firmly. "There's no competition for anything."

"Who's competing?" A sweet voice asked from behind her and she jumped.

"Adrien!" She shouted, scrambling. "N-nothing hehe."

"Dude!" Nino smiled. "How was your lunch?"

Adrien smiled, brightly. "The best I've ever had."

Marinette felt inclined to agree.

#ladynoirjuly #ladynoirjuly2021 #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #ml fic #my stuff #miraculous ladybug #if we're bound to be something why not together

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sukiglycerin · 4 years

Text

starless fairy tales || keigo takami, katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader x katsuki bakugou (gender neutral!)

* genre: it’s a sandwich: angst on the top, fluff in the middle, and angst at the end :) not fantasy DLKFSF IM SORRY

* words: 5.2k, somehow

* warnings: angsty, reader is wary of hawks at first, tokyo skytree!! so don’t read if you’re terribly afraid of heights, a reference to blood for a small metaphor, a reference to the league of villains ;P, cliffhanger ending that i’m not sure i’ll resolve

* original request from @bien-sur: hey, saw you wanted requests and I read through some of your work, really loved the Hawks one shot!! i’m a sucker for enemies who make out. i’m feeling angsty so uh maybe, if you want, a bakugo one-shot where he kind of uh cheats on the reader...? or maybe just hurts her feelings very badly? maybe the reader feels numb for a while but is comforted by Keigo, and the reader realizes they deserve better? so sorry if this is out of your comfort zone or it’s dark content(?) anyways I like your writing so i’ll read a few more of your works before going to bed :)) thank you, i appreciate u taking the time to do requests regardless of whether you do mine :)

* a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS SUPERIOR!! i was so excited to write an enemies piece with hawks. this showcases the soft, kind side of hawks so i hope you enjoy it !! thank you sooo much for being so kind in your request! this request is completely fine. i added much more plot than i’d expected, and learned sooo much about tokyo skytree. i couldn’t do infidelity because it hurts me too much and i love bakugou too much. i tried to keep the angst.,., but happy birb..,., this might become a multi-chap fic, as i do have a plot jumbled in my head because of the cliffhanger, and i’d like to develop more aspects of your request! for now, it’s up to your interpretation! biggest thing i got out of this: i now really, really want to go to tokyo skytree.

* synopsis: you had a fairy tale love with bakugou until your prince became the villain for vague reasons. in a moment of serendipity, you find a new prince, hawks, who just might take you high enough to reach the stars you’d so longed for. sometimes your dreams are only a train ride and a couple elevator trips away.

love was like a fairy tale. at least, that’s what you’d believed. love, with its ornate leather cover and soft golden embellishments. the pages would be worn but so cherished; the black ink printed in a pretty font, telling of charming words and whispered promises under the shining moonlight and twinkling stars. it was supposed to be your security, a castle hidden in the lush forest away from the horrors of the world. your castle would hold you and bakugou for an eternity, kept away in the pages of a pretty love story.

alas, even the strongest of castles fall, and the most beautiful of forests mangle. yours just happened to be a bit quicker. contrary to the illusion bakugou had painted in your fairy tale, your castle was not of stone nor brick nor iron. it was not of anything but sand, waiting for its turn to be washed away by the sea. your castle slipped through your fingers; the once elaborate stronghold now swept into the depths of the cerulean sea. what had once been painted seashells of wondrous hues and crystals that illuminated the night were now pebbles and corroded versions of things that had once been. it had slipped through your fingers so easily without a passing thought; now here you were, in your deserted kingdom, playing the fool.

like the sand past your fingers, love had once come easy for you and bakugou. it was always there, drifting in the air as you walked or swirling above your heads while you bickered. love was supposed to be easy, like how your hand just fit in bakugou's as if sculpted after many lives with him. love was supposed to be easy, like how bakugou aced his tests in school and nonchalantly taught you math so you wouldn't have to attend cram school. love was supposed to be easy, like how it had been for forever with bakugou. but your fairy tale was now coming to a close, velvet curtains falling and pages turning to dust.

you wondered if there were any fairy tales on the shelves of books bakugou had. contrary to popular belief at ua, bakugou was an avid reader. it was clear by the shelves that lined the wall in his dorm and the stacks of unread books on his nightstand. you never touched them, though bakugou had said you were free to pick them up whenever you wanted. the only time you’d touched a book from his bookshelf was when he pushed a book of yosano akiko’s to you.

the colored spines of the books on his shelf in your shared apartment all blurred like paint on a palette as you stared at them, bakugou’s voice becoming a fading afterthought.

“y/n? y/n, please…” the voice which had so held you in its tight warmth went cold and unfamiliar. a light flickered out in your castle, and so started the crumbling.

“say…” you started, your throat clogged with disbelief, “it again.”

“please, don’t make me…” his voice trailed off. you could feel his deep scarlet eyes trained on you. “i just…. i’m not in love with you anymore, y/n.” his voice cracked. “you’ve got to understand. please.”

your hand trembled in your lap, your vision shifting out of focus like a faulty camera.

“i tried to feel something, i really did. but…. i can’t.”

“how- how long?” your voice shook.

he paused. “a month… or two, by now?” he reached out to take your hand in his, but it no longer felt right. it was as if his hand was no longer yours to hold. you tensed, moving your hand away.

a light went out in his eyes as he understood and receded his hand. a tower fell in your castle.

“okay,” you said, turning away from him. tears dripped down your face silently and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. you stood up from the couch. “i’ll get my things,” you hollowly said, walking toward your shared room with him.

“you don’t need to,” bakugou said. the voice emitted from his throat was no longer his, but the shadow of a stranger’s. “not this fast, at least. don’t force yourself.”

“what makes you say that?” you snapped a bit too harshly. “sorry,” you added quietly.

packing your things was a numbing process. you left the photos of him and you on his nightstand, on top of his pile of unread books. you shoved it all in a backpack you had lying around; your clothes, your phone, your books. you took one last glance around the room and left. bakugou was still sitting on the couch wordlessly, not bothering to say farewell to you as you opened the door and walked out. not that you would’ve responded anyway.

you realized you may have made a miscalculation as you stood cluelessly in the lobby of the apartment building. you had nowhere to go. you fumbled with your phone in your backpack and pulled up your contacts. you knew of no one in your contacts who’d let you stay; they were either on vacation or far away. in truth, bakugou was your closest friend since childhood. he was your map, your guide, your destination; where were you without him?

the wind brushed your cheek as you stood outside the entrance, watching cars pass. the world felt so big compared to the mere side character of you, who buildings loomed over like menacing shadows. it was a somewhat comforting moment, being an alone speck in the grand scheme of things. like this, it was for only a moment you’d forgotten why you were out here in the first place. you’d forgotten the warm feeling that once nestled itself in your heart, instead enraptured by the freeing breeze that rustled in it.

red. then a breeze. that’s all you saw, eyes widening and stepping back. a man no older than you stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. vermillion wings protruded from somewhere on his back, arcing slightly over the man.

“heyyy….” he said lazily, shadows falling on his face. you started walking backward, hands discreetly feeling for the door behind you. “wait! i’m a pro-hero, i swear! i’m hawks, look it up!” he lifted his hands up in surrender, backing away from you.

“who…. what do you want?” you asked cautiously, hand on the doorknob behind you.

he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “i, uh…. got lost…. tokyo’s such a big place, y’know?”

“where are you from?” you couldn’t really discern anything of an accent on him, other than a slightly rougher tone of speaking.

“kyushu, fukuoka…” he gestured vaguely. that explained the slight accent. “i’m in tokyo for a bit of work. business trip, y’know how it goes. haven’t visited tokyo in a while, honestly. what’s a good place for a bite? a bird is starving.”

“uh… there’s a place down the street to the right…” off the top of your head, you pointed out a cafe you and bakugou had frequented.

“it doesn’t have chicken wings, does it?” hawks asked.

“chicken…?” you looked from him to his wings. “no, sorry.”

“don’t sweat it! ‘s fine. hey, i might as well treat you for wasting your time. where’re you heading off to? i could pay for a cab, if you gotta go.”

“ah, thank you....” you said bashfully. “i’m not really in a rush anywhere.”

“really?” he looked excited, innocently so, almost like a puppy. “can i treat you to something?”

“uh… sure,” you replied, strengthening your grip on your backpack. “sure.”

“great! off we go, m’liege!” he pointed toward the cafe and started marching. he was a sight to behold on the street, red wings standing out a mile away. you followed somewhat reluctantly, grabbing your phone to google exactly who the pro-hero “hawks” was. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but you weren’t one who knew their heroes. yeah, it was definitely him; what was your luck, meeting such a famous pro-hero on the street after being dumped by the love of your life?

he hummed a tuneless melody, turning to the cafe. he held the doorknob waiting for you, opening the door for you first. the homey cafe was decently packed for lunchtime, the quiet chatter of people filling the atmosphere. the scene reminded you of so many other times you'd gone here with bakugou; it gave you chills as you stood next to hawks.

"hey," hawks said quietly. "you okay? you seem tense."

you gulped and shook your head. "nah, i'm fine. just thinking about what to eat," you lied.

he nodded, seeming to buy into the lie. stepping toward the menu, he said, "the toasted sandwiches look good."

"uh huh," you agreed absentmindedly. your attention was on the bout of people who'd turned to look at hawks, some snapping pictures on their phones. he did stand out pretty well with his wings.

"'scuse me-!" a little girl, no more than 6 or 7, approached the hero. she had a distinctive accent; it was slightly hard to understand her. "can i 'ave a photo with ya?" her eyes got all round. "yer my big brother's favorite hero!"

"'course, darlin'," hawks smiled. his voice somewhat mimicked hers, his dialect becoming apparent.

once he'd taken a photo with her, more and more people started following suit, crowding him. you stood awkwardly to the side. some people didn't even know who he was, from what you could tell. you debated ordering a latte and leaving, but decided it'd be unfair to hawks. he was kind to everyone he interacted with, unlike most celebrities who just wanted fame and disregarded others.

after some time, the crowd finally dispersed, leaving you and hawks together.

he glanced at his watch. “ah, sorry, that took a while…” he apologized. “do you have somewhere to be? i must’ve held you up…”

“nah, don’t worry about it.” you waved him off. “i, uh, actually… was just dumped by my boyfriend…” you nervously shuffled your feet. “i don’t really have a place to stay at the moment… so i’m free the entire day, i guess.” you laughed nervously.

he blinked at you, bird-like eyes wide. “you must be starving.”

you felt your face warm and you laughed - this time, a real, genuine laugh that was a missed sensation against your tongue. “yeah. yeah, i am.”

“hey, dove.” his voice suddenly got close to you, gentler. “you’re crying.”

“oh…?” you felt your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “sorry. i have tissues in my backpack, hang on…” you unzipped the front pocket and started to rummage blindly through your belongings, groping for something vaguely feeling like a packet of tissues.

“here,” he said, handing you a tissue. you turned to him gratefully, accepting the tissue and wiping your face.

“it’s just… weird,” you said after a pause. “he’s been there all my life - my ex, i mean.” ex. such a strange name for the man you so adored; ex, crossing off the relationship you thought you’d built with him.

hawks nodded, guiding you to a booth in the cafe.

you continued, “sorry. you probably didn’t want to hear this today… you’re busy with your hero duties and whatnot.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, feather,” he reassured you. “he didn’t kick you out, did he?”

“oh, no,” you clarified quickly. “i… left,” you said, abashed. “i shouldn’t’ve been so sudden, but… it was an instinct thing.”

“why’d he do it so suddenly?” hawks asked. “you didn’t see it coming, right?”

“no, i didn’t… but maybe i should’ve…” you think about the part couple months with bakugou. nothing seemed different - you’d gone on dates like normal and spent time together like a couple that loved each other. his interest in you never faltered and nor did the sparkle in his eyes dull; what had happened? what had gone so wrong?

you realize the silence that’s fallen between you and hawks. the hero was looking at the menu behind you intently.

“ham and cheese…” he muttered to himself. “no, teriyaki… so yummy… with coffee…” he suddenly seemed aware of your eyes staring at him. “oh, what did you want to eat?”

“i’ll probably have the teriyaki,” you said. it was your go-to sandwich choice at the cafe. you reached for your backpack to retrieve your wallet, but hawks stopped you.

“let me,” he said. “i already caused you so much inconvenience.”

“ah, okay…” you said meekly. “thank you.”

he shrugged. “what wouldja like to drink?”

“uh… orange juice,” you said.

“alright!” he saluted you. “your wish is my command.” he got up to order, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. the cashier was particularly animated talking to him, initiating a conversation about aerodynamics with the pro-hero from what you could hear.

he returned with the sandwiches (made at the fastest time you swore you’d seen them prepare food) and set yours in front of you.

“let’s dig in!” hawks said, biting into his sandwich. you agreed, taking a bite of yours as well.

“what’s your name, by the way?” he said in between bites. “i don’t think i ever asked.”

“y/n,” you said.

“pretty,” he commented. “i’m hawks.”

“i know,” you blurted. “i googled it.”

“you did?” his pupils widened. “what’d it say??”

“uhh…” you pulled out your phone, finding the tab you used to google hawks. you turned your screen to him.

he studied the screen. “not fond of that angle,” he mused to himself. “so, why’d your boyfriend dump you?”

you were taken aback by his candor. “he… said he didn’t love me anymore,” you admitted.

“all of a sudden? out of the blue?”

you shook your head. “he said he’d tried to endure it for a while.”

“how long?”

“a month or two,” you sighed, thinking about the sight of him sitting dejectedly on the couch this morning.

“he didn’t say anything before that?” hawks gasped. “the nerve. how long have you been together?”

“four… or five years now?” you’d been dating him since your days at ua, even when most high school romances - between childhood friends, no less - were especially rocky. he was your promised forever.

“and he gives up after two months?” hawks set his sandwich down. “wow. some boyfriend.”

“i think there was something more to it,” you said thoughtfully. “we’ve known each other for a long…”

“you still love him, don’t you?”

“i mean… yeah….” you hadn’t given it much thought; bakugou was a habit your heart couldn’t stop thinking about. it was like depriving your heart of oxygen: foreign and wrong. “i do.”

“i’m sorry, dove,” he said.

“your sandwich will get cold,” you said in an attempt to divert the conversation topic.

“you’re right.” he picked up his sandwich and started eating again, eyes still on you. “this place has good food.”

you hummed in agreement, distracted by the cars going by outside the window.

“where will you stay?” he asked, halfway done with his sandwich.

hawks voiced the concern plaguing your subconscious from the moment you stepped out of bakugou’s apartment building. it was definitely not the most thoroughly well-thought out plan, and you didn’t want to come back knocking on his door in the night. besides, you weren’t sure if you could stand being there again, in the presence of a liar and someone who felt so foreign to you. you wondered how much you truly didn’t know about bakugou; were there any other lies he’d blossomed behind your back?

you knew you might be able to stay at a hotel for a couple nights, but not for long. going back to bakugou’s place… as much as you so dreaded the mere thought, you knew it might be your absolute last resort.

“i’m not sure,” you finally replied truthfully. hawks appeared to have come to a conclusion of sorts.

“tell ya what,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “explore tokyo with me.” he took a bite of his sandwich. continuing, he said, “‘s not often the commission puts me in the big city. i’m off today, so…”

the offer was somewhat bizarre, but what did you have to lose? you agreed, under the terms you wouldn’t be out too late. as you walked out the door, you greeted the cool outside breeze with the hope this would help you put the past behind you.

walking through tokyo with a pro-hero proved harder than it sounded. for one, people kept approaching hawks; after all, he was like a walking light-up sign that said “LOOK AT ME!” with the size and color of his wings. after every time a fan asked hawks for an autograph, he sheepishly apologized to you, and offered two autographs to you. you always laughed and declined; the trip was a reward in itself, you supposed. each acquaintance made you appreciate all the responsibilities of a pro-hero. he was charming, though. he really was, so you didn’t mind.

“skytree! let’s go there!” was the first thing hawks had said walking out of the cafe. you’d been to the skytree a couple of times in your childhood, and it was a nice memory; the tall building stretching, touching the tip of the sky. your parents had told you that stardust flecked the very top of the skytree, for it was so tall. you’d never actually reached the highest floor; it felt like a distant fantasy, as you’d always get tired before reaching the top or circumstance would interfere.

it was a five minute walk to the nearest station, and it’d be another forty or so to skytree. hawks didn’t seem to mind, though, happily promenading down the street like a kid in a candy shop. he pointed excitedly to random buildings that you hadn’t given a second thought about and rambled about the facts he knew about skytree with an accent tingeing his words more than usual. he reminded you very much so of a child going on a field trip, and his giddiness only boosted yours.

“we’re here!” his eyes glistened with anticipation when you reached the station. you’d visited the station dozens of times, but looked at it with a new light when you realized how excited hawks was. “i’ll pay; i dragged you here,” he said immediately when you started to pay for tickets.

“really, i can’t-” you started, but he cut you off.

“let me. it’s my off day! please.” he took the two tickets he paid for. “here.”

“i don’t really have a choice, do i?”

“nope!�� he was already walking away, smiling back at you and waving his ticket.

“hey- wait!” you started running after him. “wrong way!”

forty minutes later, two transfers, and one circle around the station in pursuit of skytree, you stood at the entrance of the tokyo skytree. hawks’ mouth watered at the sight of the line of restaurants in the breezeway you’d passed prior, and you had to stop him from ordering the seasonal special from mcdonald’s before turning to skytree.

“but you just ate!” you exclaimed as he stared longingly at the ice cream being advertised on a poster.

he pouted. “but i’m hungry…”

you took his hand (which momentarily shocked him) and guided him to the entrance. it was a bit crowded, but not overtly so. hawks was looking everywhere once you’d entered; darting from here to there, sometimes carrying small souvenirs or drinks when returning to you. you were out of energy by the time you’d reached floor 340, though hawks told you there were only 29 floors total and the name was referencing the height. it certainly didn’t feel like an exaggeration, your feet dragging on the ground as you stepped out of the oddly fast elevator.

you begged hawks to let you rest at the cafe you saw. the cafe felt like a little oasis of tranquility, uncrowded on contrary to the other floors. it was relaxing as you stared outside the window and up at the sky. it brought you to your parents words of stars and magic, though something as modern as the skytree must be strange to intermingle with magic. in the moment you were suspended; the still sky surrounding you and the ever-moving cars below. you swore you could just reach the clouds in front of you and float, so serenely in an eternal bubble of quietude to yourself. everything else was forgotten in that moment; things were the way they always were. it was always you, in the end.

after leaving the cafe, you watched people stand on glass flooring overlooking everything below. some jumped on the glass, while some frightenedly stuck a foot on the glass and jumped back.

“quite the view, huh?” hawks mumbled with a mouth stuffed full with chocolate cake. “i usually have to fly so far to get this view.”

you nodded. “it’s amazing...”

“so… where d’you wanna go after this?” he asked you.

“actually…” your thoughts went back to the stories your parents told you. “can we go up to floor 455?”

he showed a hint of surprise on his face. “really? i know we bought the tickets to do it, but if you’re tired, we can just go down.”

“no…” you cleared your throat. “it’s been something i really wanted to do.”

he took this answer and smiled, grasping your hand. “let’s walk into the sky!”

the train ride back did not go as smoothly as you hoped. the adrenaline of being 450 meters in the air had worn itself out, and the pitting realization that bakugou was no longer yours dawned on you. the sapphire sky in your fairy tale story seemed so far now, stars shattering and crumbling. you reached for a piece of a star, but each piece dissolved above your head, light that would never reach you.

“feather,” hawks said quietly. the intense look in his eyes looked like he was building up to something important.

“yeah?” you asked. you fixated on him.

“do you want… a badtz-maru eraser?”

you stared at the spiky-haired penguin in the palm of hawks’ hand.

“sure…?” you said. hawks happily plopped the eraser into your hand.

“feather,” he said again in the same tone. “you should visit bakugou, you know. tonight, to make things straight with him.”

that was what he was building up to. bakugou. you hadn’t dwelled much on the thought of the man; the skytree filling most of your thoughts for the day. but it was still light out.

“i know,” you replied softly, looking down at your fingers. these were the hands that held your heart as you gave it to bakugou, the hands that bakugou held tenderly for so many days and nights. they were the same hands that held your heart now, returned by bakugou shattered and clinking to the ground. the rest of the train ride was silent.

you could now hear your thoughts echoing around the train compartment, deflecting off walls and still making their way to your heart. you wondered what words were left unsaid by bakugou, painful truths untold hidden in the recesses of his heart. you wondered if he remembered how he’d first nervously asked you on a date in high school, words rough but fingers softly fidgeting with each other. it was in may, near the end of the day. he shoved a small box of chocolates towards you, muttering something about “weird hair” making him do it. he’d aggressively stuttered his way through a confession, barely making eye contact with you. the memory brought a fluttering to your heart, but with it came a sore pain for the first time. you wondered if he felt the same or if he was just numb, like how he now felt about you. what did it feel like to fall out of love?

you wondered if he remembered the many times he’d walked you home (only for your sake, of course, not anything else). you wondered if he remembered how fondly he looked at you then. his heart was on his sleeve during those times, the perpetual blush on his cheeks disclosing his very vulnerable feelings towards you.

even on the most draining of days, bakugou would always be there for you. even if his eyelids were closing upon their own accord and legs were sore from a day’s work, he made it a point to be there for you. while children might’ve had their security blankets, you had bakugou. your heart dropped realizing those days of coming home to bakugou were gone.

what had happened? now, you were alone on a train that felt so cold and without the love that had so warmed your heart. why had things ended up like this? why did you numb bakugou’s feelings so? the wave was slow at first, but once it had reached the shore, your tears fell hot and unyielding as you toppled off the edge of being okay.

hawks was by your side wordlessly, a wing around you and leaning you close to him. the feathers were soft. you cried unabashedly in his embrace, sniffling as he soothed you. you tried to say thank you, but all that came out was another sob.

your feet, on instinct, took you to bakugou's apartment without any problem. it could’ve been any other day; you, coming back to the apartment after running errands. it was your hand that hesitated as it hovered an inch away from the wood of the door, the only sign that something had changed. you liked to pretend it hadn’t. you wished that when you’d open the door, you’d hear a light chatter from the tv and a familiar voice saying, “welcome home, idiot.” you wished that the air that enveloped you as soon as you opened the door was that of liveliness and comfort, of warm orange and yellow hues. you wished that the atmosphere didn’t feel so dead, dull, and musty; you wish it hadn’t drowned in shades of blue and gray. you wished you didn’t have the key to the apartment still.

you wished that bakugou would say something, anything, rather than sit on the couch with his head bowed. you wished that you didn’t miss him so much and that you had him, all at the same time. you wished you turned back as soon as you heard the knob click and pushed open the door; you wished not to see all that you had in what was once your apartment.

you wished you didn’t revel in his presence next to you on the couch. you wished you didn’t almost lean into his touch because he was your home, and you wished your eyes didn’t well up the way they had. you wished to have sat in that silence for a while then up and gone; you wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

“hey, idiot,” was a cracky and raspy thing coming out of his mouth, words familiar but so foreign at the same time.

“hey,” was what you whispered back, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“where’d you go?” but it wasn’t a question, just a fragile plea devoid of hope.

“skytree,” and you felt you’d break the mood.

“did you reach the top?” his response surprised and killed you at the same time.

“yeah,” you said quietly. “i did.”

“alone?”

“i could never alone.”

“who…?”

“met a pro-hero by chance.”

“your true hero, huh?” it was a bitter tone, venom biting you.

“no,” and your heart sunk because it was the truth.

he scoffed. getting up from the couch, he said, “you forgot something.”

your eyes followed him as he disappeared into your once shared room. he returned quite fast, as if you’d left it on the dresser, carrying a decorated shoebox. you’d almost forgotten about it entirely, eyes wide as nostalgia hit you.

it was a memory box you’d made the last year of high school. it was supposed to be for school memories, but it really just became a box of mementos of bakugou. you could barely see the contents inside, too busy trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. you thumbed through photos and polaroids of you and him, some with his friends and some with yours. oh, what you’d give to have those times back. though it was all blurred, you could feel the moments so vividly: feel the cool summer breeze and hear the sound of people conversing with each other at a festival; hear mina’s excited ramblings and bakugou’s grumbling at the supermarket; smell caramel and vanilla at a movie night, pressed against bakugou’s body warmth. you dropped the photos back into the box and picked up a scorched pencil. a pressed rose. a neatly folded sheet of notes you’d sent back and forth with bakugou during class.

and then it was all gone, shutting the box.

“keep it.” you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, but you wouldn’t take them back. you handed him the box, staring at the floor and wiping your wet eyes. the memories were no longer yours to keep.

bakugou was silent, taking the box and leaving to his room to put it away.

“is that all?” you tried to make your voice sound strong, impatient. like you had better places to be without him. you hoped he couldn’t tell how it was more of a beg to stay.

“yeah.” cold. emotionless.

you stood for another second, looking around. everything seemed different, as if the glass which surrounded your universe had shattered. “bye, katsuki.”

“bye.”

your footsteps were light, but each step felt weighed by metal weights. you wished he stopped you from leaving. you wished you looked back at him. you wished you weren’t crying.

you shut the door quietly, weakly, behind you. it all came out in the hallway, tears and desperate sobs. you prayed he couldn’t hear you; but you knew, even if he did, he wouldn’t care anymore. he was numbed, no longer the firework you’d known.

“hawks,” it came as a quiet plea as you felt for your phone and dialed his number. he gave it to you right before you walked into bakugou’s apartment.

“please pick up, please pick up,” you muttered, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they came.

“hey, birdie? are you okay?”

“hawks,” you sobbed. “hawks, no, i’m not.”

“hey, are you still at the apartment building? i’ll be right there, chickadee, alright?”

you nodded, sniffed, then said meekly, “yeah.”

“stay on the line. talk to me, birdie.” his voice was soothing.

“hawks, it hurts, everything.” you felt as though you were pouring out your heart, spilling scarlet on the carpet. “hawks.” tears dropped onto the carpet. “hawks.” your knees almost gave in.

“what floor are you on, dove?”

“third,” you hiccupped.

“i’m right there, feather.” you saw hawks emerge from the stairwell. his hair looked windblown. he looked relieved to see you at first, then his face fell to that of sympathy. “oh, birdie,” he said softly, running up to you. “i’m here now.’

you weren’t aware bakugou was listening to you cry on the other side of the door as you sobbed into someone else’s shoulder, not his. with dark eyes and trembling hands he couldn’t calm, he dialed a number on his phone.

“well, tomura? i did it.”

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou angst #bnha angst #hawks fluff #bnha fluff #hawks imagines #hawks scenarios #keigo takami fluff #keigo takami imagines #keigo takami scenarios #katsuki bakugou #keigo takami #luna's writing

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