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minimujina · 2 years

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Bᴀɴᴅᴀɪᴅs & ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs. chongyun, bennett, xingqiu

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs. reader has a hydro vision and is a healer :) gotta take care of these reckless boys

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs. none ! JUST FLUFFY AND OCCASIONAL KISSING BC I WANNA KISS :-(

ᴄʜᴏɴɢʏᴜɴ was incredibly dedicated to his training, more so than anybody you had ever met—and this meant that sometimes, he injured himself more than anybody you had ever met.

perhaps he had ventured into jueyun karst on one of xingqiu’s cruel wild goose chases, searching for an evil spirit to expel, but instead he got into a tussle with a mitachurl; he may have slipped and fallen from a high ledge during his training; or maybe he overheated too much and passed out. these were all common occurrences, so it was up to you to figure out which one had taken place every time he called for your assistance. well, more like xingqiu called for your assistance—chongyun didn’t like to ask for your help so much.

you assured him it was no problem, since he was your friend and you were often concerned for him. you didn’t like that he was so reckless in his desire to be an exorcist, so you always left him with a kiss on the cheek and a plead to be careful. needless to say that consequently, he remained blushy and flustered for quite some time even after your leave.

because of your hydro vision, the two of you worked well together. if you ever happened to stumble into a sticky situation with some hilichurls or fatui agents, you summoned the energy coursing through your veins to create a flurry of water, whirling it in the direction of the enemies while chongyun used his cryo vision in tandem. everything in your path was frozen, every enemy still as a statue, until chongyun had finished them all off with his greatsword.

noticing a large gash on his arm through his black undershirt, you cried out your concern and rushed to him to inspect the wound, forcing him to sit down on a boulder. the boy’s cheeks blushed deep red when a little water frog shaped from your vision hopped up to him, acting as a distraction while you healed his wound. his laughter nearly caused you to make a mistake in the process, but you stuck with it, finishing to find chongyun giggling with the frog in his hand. the sight made a flurry of butterflies erupt in your tummy.

before you had even realized you were doing it, the water shifted shape from a frog to a fish; the creature floated up to chongyun’s face, making brief contact with his nose as if to kiss it. if it was possible, his blush deepened further, but it was soon rivaled by your own—you hadn’t meant to do that!!! water sure has a mind of its own… haha .. aha .. ..

chongyun suddenly gained a glint in his eyes you’d never seen before—was that confidence or deviousness? whatever it was, you recognized it from xingqiu, which was mildly upsetting, since the guhua geek was full of pranks and nonsense. you flinched as chongyun leaned toward you, heart pounding when he laced his hands with yours and brought them to his chest. this confidence of his was different from the times he overheated after eating jueyun chilis.

“i promise i’ll protect you,” he murmured all of a sudden, noses almost touching. you nodded nervously—you knew this already. it was something he had told you before, the last time you’d gotten into a bit of danger yourself. all you had to do was stick by his side.

chongyun also knew how much you worried about him. “and i promise i won’t die. for you.”

you giggled quietly at his seriousness, reaching up to tenderly brush some hair out of his eyes. “you couldn’t do that for yourself? or xingqiu? or your family?”

he breathed out one of his rare laughs, short and like a chuckle—though that sly grin accompanying it was off-putting to you. “you think you’re so funny,” he muttered. “you know what i mean.”

you grinned. “but do i? do i really know, chongyun?” at your cheeky comment, his hands moved from grasping your own to circle your waist, pulling you flush against him.

chongyun hummed thoughtfully. “i guess i’ll have to show you, then.”

oh, dear. dear, sweet, precious ʙᴇɴɴᴇᴛᴛ. you swear that this boy will be the death of you someday.

oh, no, not at all because of his so-called “bad luck” that himself and others liked to pin on him. it’s because this “bad luck,” which you chalked up to recklessness and selflessness, got him hurt so often that you swore you were going to have a heart attack.

when you first asked to join benny’s adventure team, he was absolute garbage at hiding his clear excitement. “you—you would want to—you would join my…?” but his stuttering of disbelief would soon be replaced by adamant refusal.

“you’ll get hurt if you join me,” he stated, suddenly looking very downtrodden, but he was doing his best to put on a front of confidence. “i can’t let that happen.”

you mustered all the gusto within yourself to link arms with him and say, “so, don’t let it happen.”

he was so taken aback he could only stare at you with his mouth agape like a fish. you grinned with a sharp inhale and declared, “i’m coming with you, and that’s final. if you don’t want me to get hurt, then don’t let me get hurt. and i’ll take care of the both of us. there’s a reason i have a vision, too.”

and from that moment onward, bennett was to you more precious than any mineral in teyvat, any sum of mora, any treasure chest that could lie in wait for benny’s adventure team. the boy risked his life constantly to protect you (even though you were capable of doing so yourself!! but you figured, what good would you be to benny heavily injured, or worse, dead?), and you had to admit you enjoyed the moments where everything in the world seemed quiet and it was just the two of you, bennett waiting patiently as you inspected his wounds.

these moments felt oddly sweet, and would occasionally end up with you leaning your head on his shoulder (the one that wasn’t covered in cuts, anyway), tenderly lacing your soft hand with his calloused one. you liked the feeling of his rough fingers; you admired all of his scars; you appreciated every piece of evidence of his hard work and dedication. you often told him how proud you were of him, after which you would pinch his arm for being too reckless. he would glow in secret satisfaction, his hand unconsciously squeezing yours as his heart swelled.

sometimes you couldn’t help but be selfish, wanting bennett all to yourself. he would try to leave to patrol around where the two of you were resting for a moment, but you would launch yourself onto his back, hugging him until he conceded to stay through muffled laughter. he let you bring him to the ground and wrap your arms around his torso even tighter, nuzzling into him as if this were the last time you could hug him.

“i worry about you sometimes, you know,” you mumbled. “a lot, actually.”

bennett was shocked to hear a little sniffle—were you crying?

he made you look at him, frowning to see a little tear slip down your cheek. he hurriedly swiped it away, holding your face gently. “no, no,” he murmured, trying to quash your sadness with a smile. “don’t cry!! it’s okay!!” he squished your cheeks, attempting to make you laugh successfully.

“i have you to make sure i don’t get scraped up too much! and i’m here to make sure you don’t get scraped up either, okay? i’m used to it. i can get hurt. but i can’t let you get hurt, okay?”

this only made you continue crying. his words almost made you wanna hit his chest—“stupid, stupid bennett,” you blurbed, words watery and muffled by sniffles. “stupid bennett!! you’re too selfless! think about yourself, just once!!”

he had no idea what to say to that, so he just pulled you up to a proper sitting position and held you in his arms so you could cry out everything you’d been holding in. he didn’t realize how much you cared for him—it almost made him wanna cry himself. this was the first time someone had displayed such affection for him before, and it was so heart-warming, but also heart-breaking. your little sobs made bennett’s chest constrict.

“what can i do to make you stop worrying about me? i’ll be okay!” he whispered, rubbing your back gently. you sighed, giving him a squeeze.

“if you could just…just be careful. and let me fret over you…it would make me feel better.”

bennett laughed heartily and agreed to be as safe as he could, though deep down he knew he would always have bad luck. but that was on his own—now that he had you, things didn’t seem so terrible. in fact, things were quite good after all. he’d struck the best treasure in teyvat when he got you.

the first half of xɪɴɢǫɪᴜ's chivalrous pursuits often included applaudable acts such as saving victims of treasure hoarders, taking down a particularly vicious mitachurl, or rescuing children from a surprise whopperflower. but the other half had solely to do with courting you. sometimes you would actually wake up to find a bundle of flowers in your kitchen.

since he already followed you everywhere, you were no stranger to the various injuries xingqiu showed up with. unlike the other boys, you never had to chase him down—he came to you, waving his arm around dramatically and brandishing his wounds with pride just to get your attention. he pretended like he was so graceful and put together around anybody else, but with you, recklessness granted him more of your attention. so, reckless he became. he also somehow did this without abandoning his devious and slick attitude that flustered you so much.

he would be nonchalant about it, claiming the cuts didn’t hurt (after he had so dramatically whined in public until you dragged him into your house), but when you rolled up his sleeve it was revealed that he got into more trouble than you thought. looking up and meeting his eyes, you couldn’t parse his true feelings out, but you could tell he was in quite a bit of pain.

“oh, xingqiu,” you sighed solemnly. “when will you learn?”

when will you learn that i like you just fine without you getting hurt so much?

while you were focused on healing him, xingqiu was focused on your face. he was focused on your light blush, on your shifty gaze, on your trembling lips. he was mighty curious—if he kissed you right now, just how flustered would you be? he had to hold back a laugh just thinking about it, the product being one of his evil-looking smiles that was so off-putting to you.

“what’s that smile for?” you mumbled, eyeing him suspiciously.

“nothing, my liege. you’re just stunning, is all.”

that comment earned him red cheeks from you. however, you said nothing, only continuing to handle his wound with care. each touch of your fingers to his arms sent goosebumps all over his body.

an entire minute passed before you grumbled, “you’re so blunt sometimes, qiu.”

“only about things that are true.” as he replied, he leaned dangerously close to your face with a boyish grin, making you squeak and lean away. he laughed good-naturedly while watching you squirm; he enjoyed teasing you just to see your calm demeanor fall apart.

“you’re terrible,” you cried, trying to stand and leave in defiance, but xingqiu’s hand on your wrist stopped you. looking back, the expression on his face was one of panic and concern—had he gone too far this time?

“wait,” he floundered, his shaky hand retracting from your arm. “i’m sorry. are you okay?”

you began to giggle lightheartedly, realizing he took what you had said as genuine. you plopped down on the wooden floor next to him again. “of course i’m okay! i was only joking! i’m sorry, qiu.”

xingqiu’s face melted in relief. “you scared me. i thought i’d hurt you.”

you smiled affectionately, placing your hand on the boy’s soft cheek. “you could never hurt me. i’m just easy to tease, is all. and you know that.”

that mischievous grin of his returned. “and that’s why i do it. you look very cute when you’re flustered.”

“yeah, yeah, pretty boy. whatever. now let me fix your dumb arm before it gets infected.”

but you were slightly distracted by the way xingqiu leaned forward and promptly placed his lips on yours—just a tad put off-task.

the two of you proceeded to forget all about xingqiu’s minor wound, spending the rest of the day in each other’s embrace. eventually, you wound up cuddling in bed while xingqiu read a book, you in between his legs with one of his arms wrapped around your middle, the other holding the book out. you gladly snuggled into his chest, promising yourself that you’d see to the rest of his scrapes and bruises tomorrow.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ Fᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! ♥︎

#the title means alcohol for injuries you stinker😡😡#mujimade #chongyun #bennett #xingqiu #genshin impact x reader #chongyun x reader #bennett x reader #xingqiu x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin chongyun #genshin bennett #genshin xingqiu #genshin blog #genshin writers #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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Ok, I’ve tried and tried and tried to write this fic because I see it so clearly in my mind but it’s just not going no matter what I do. But I don’t want the idea to die with me. The closest this came to being written was exile which was an attempt to bleed out some of the energy of this au.

Anyway, so it starts off vaguely similar to canon only more aggressive. There had been underlying tension between ghosts and humans for a while, the dead jealous/angry at the living for disrespecting them. The successful creation of the Fenton ghost portal (and another halfa) was considered an act of war and so the ghosts responded in kind. So basically all of S1 occurs fairly close to canon except ghost attacks are more violent and have increasingly more consequences as time passes. Also the attacks aren’t just in Amity Park with ghosts becoming a worldwide issue but Amity is a focal point. Regular people know the ghosts hate them though they don’t know why. Phantom is very much a controversial figure as he is a ghost but also clearly is fighting off the more violent ghosts.

One day, not long after the events of Control Freaks, Amity Park wakes up to find three of their own are gone. Danny Fenton, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley are nowhere to be found. There’s a massive manhunt, the parents go on TV and beg for information but they cannot be found. Curiously enough, town hero Phantom was also missing. There’s some evidence they left of their own volition so the Mansons and Foleys eventually relent that the kids fled on their own. The Fentons are 100% certain the kids were stolen/killed by ghosts as a statement. And the fact that Phantom went missing around the same time means he was the one who killed them. Jazz knows Danny was Phantom but had no idea what was going on and knew her parents wouldn’t listen she just, kept quiet and privately tried to piece together what happened.

Three years pass and finally it looks like the Ecto War is coming to a close. Young, naive ghosts attempted to raise Pariah Dark in a bid to win. It went disastrously but Phantom (who was periodically spotted around the world, deep in the worst battles of the war) and group of loyal allies subdued the king. By the law of ghosts, Phantom was named heir apparent and he declared that the fighting would stop. Humans and ghosts would have to negotiate and co-exist in peace. But he’s not king yet, no he needs to be crowned at the place where it began, Amity Park’s Fenton portal (”where it all began” has a double meaning of the beginning of the war but also symbolically where Phantom began as Kings assume the crown where their living life ended to show their abandonment of their first life and the commitment to their second). Amity is NOT happy to hear that their former hero is coming home.

Amity has been through the wringer, ghost attacks got pretty bad. The Fenton’s throw themselves into their work to cancel out the grief, they create a group of ghost hunters nicknamed the Reds (for their red blood, ghosts are nicknamed Greens) to control the threat. Valerie heads the young adult division and is considered one of the best, she drops out of school to devote herself to it full time. Oh also her dad is now the Mayor as most have died or didn’t want the job. There are still people who like Phantom and see him as a hero (a lot of Casper Kids) but it’s generally an unpopular opinion in town. Maddie and Jack are ready to obliterate the ghost that took their son’s life the moment he’s within city limits. It’s a powder keg ready to blow. It all comes to a head when Phantom and his entourage arrive.

First off, Phantom looks very different, much less human looking than when he left. He’s clearly aged like a normal teen but his eyes look much, much older. His skin is dead white with a blue tinge to it from his ice core and his aura is super cold. His hair is longer and is very misty that kind of swirls around him and his has fangs and claws. When he’s deep in battle or his obsession, his sclera turn black and he looks scary af. His entourage is ghosts who have sworn loyalty to him, who he picked up along the way after battling beside them for 3 years. Fright Knight, Skulker and Frostbite are recognizable allies. They are not happy that their future King is back in Amity (secretly fearing they’ll lose him once more to his human life). J&M have a shot and are going for the kill when they see something that shocks them; Sam and Tucker are in Phantom’s entourage.

There had been whispers that Phantom interacted with humans, that humans were in his inner circle but this is something else together. And so are Sam and Tucker. Sam is Phantom’s General, she is talented and collected and half feral. She used to be a pacifist but the trials of war and understanding that peace sometimes needs to be fought for made her compromise. She’s covered in scars and an extremely talented fighter. She’s missing her right hand up to her forearm, she can form a ‘phantom limb’ (basically borrowing ectoplasm from her future ghost) to do some things with some powers. Tucker is the support, he uses human and ghost tech to organize, weaponize and generally keep things running. He’s covered in homemade tech (shields and weapons and computers) and he rarely removes. Both he and Sam have kinda forgotten how to interact with and really BE human after so long among the dead. They had attempted to conceal themselves but they had forgotten how strong parental love and recognition is. J&M want to know about Danny, the teens don’t know how to respond but assure them he’s alive. Phantom can’t bring himself to look at them.

This is where I start to lose track of things but there will be parallels of Valerie/Maddie vs Sam as female warriors on opposite sides who are willing to go behind, possibly compromising the things important to them, for victory. Tucker will be contrasted against Jack/Jazz as the one making weapons but also generally keeping the human parts of the team mentally/physically afloat. *Severe* PTSD for all three of them. They’re also unnaturally codependent on each other, get super anxious when one of the trio is out of sight and sleep in a big cuddle pile. They will fucking Kill You if you look at one of them wrong. Vlad will be involved, he had been jailed for war crimes but convinced Walker to stage a coup to overthrow Danny and take the crown before he’s actually declared King and is too powerful. Vlad is more unhinged here, more ghost than human (a hint on what could happen to Danny if he’s not careful). He is eventually defeated but he sacrifices his life for ghost power which, in the end, is what makes him able to be beaten.

There’s lots of ideas on what it means to be live or dead and where the divide really is, is it a heartbeat or it is how you choose to use your existence. On how duty shouldn’t mean you need to give up everything. Because Jack and Maddie believe that Phantom killed their son and, in a way, they’re right. Before they left, the ghost war had gotten so bad and the rumors of Dark being resurrected were going around. Amity attacks were at an all time high, people in their school were being killed just because Danny went there. He realized he had to choose between Fenton or Phantom and he chose to protect the world. He abandoned his human identity and went off to fight in war. Tried to convince Sam and Tucker to stay but they followed him through hell and back. Because Danny spends so much time as Phantom, Fenton is severely neglected. His long hair is cool and floaty as Phantom but is unkempt and stringy, hanging in his face as Fenton. He’s wan and underweight and looks like a walking corpse. He knows his human half will give out soon if he doesn’t give it more attention but he just can’t there’s too much to do, too many people to save.

It would end with Danny being outed to the town, not the world, just the town. Jack and Maddie need to recon with the fact that their boy DID leave of his own choice but only because their failure to protect him (from both the portal and ghosts) made him feel he had to take all this responsibility on his shoulders. Danny also has to recognize that he (and Sam/Tuck) can’t do all this on their own and they can trust and rely on the people around him. Phantom is crowned King but he decides Amity will be his base. The trio eat more, sleep some, catches up on school all the while continuing their duties as King and court. The ghosts also see that Phantom’s humanity isn’t a weakness but a strength and will bring peace to the Earth/Zone so they also take some of the burdens off his shoulder.

Basically I load up heavily with angst at the beginning and end with all the love and comfort imaginable. I just can’t fucking figure out the middle and my motivation will not let me write this shit out. But I can’t let this AU die bc it fucking keeps me up at night.

#behind me dips eternity #god I want to write this but its just not going #Ive been trying for over a month #I cant finish the outline #I've only gotten a paragraph into actually typing #but there are so many vivid images from this fic that live rent free in my head #was lowkey thinking of comissioning an artist to depict Danny bc I've tried and its not coming out right and it drives me INSANE #bc this world is very vivid to me #i love it even if it hurts me #anyway here's wonderwall

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teawithkpop · 3 years

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[M] - PhysCom - Pt 7

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 5.4k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, a lot of emotional turmoil, talk of pregnancy scares (birth control, contraceptives, etc.), implied discrimination towards sex workers (not by any of the boys dw), mentions of sexual acts

slowly hands you a cake that says "I haven't updated this fic in 14 months and I don't know when the next part is coming but here's an update thanks for being patient" in comic sans

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The rush to the hospital goes by in a blur of tears and shouting and panic and questions that you can't bring yourself to answer. The only constant is Min Yoongi's hand, firmly locked in your own throughout the ordeal, tethering you to reality.

You now sit in a private room on a sterile medical table and wait to be seen, too numb inside to feel the sting of the cold metal as it cuts into the backs of your thighs. Yoongi stands beside you, still holding your hand, his fingers are laced through yours and squeezing as if it could sap away the fear that eats away your insides, leaving you hollow and empty.

"It'll be alright. Don't worry about a damn thing, okay?" He shifts his weight anxiously, betraying his own underlying worries.

You barely remember him throwing his jacket over you before being rushed out of the house, and you don't feel deserving of the modest coverage. Though the leather is worn and soft against your skin, all you can feel is the harsh metallic zipper, scratching at your chest as though reminding you of your wrongdoings.

"Yoongi…" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't apologize."

You feel tears well up in your eyes. Your chest grows tight with the words he's forbidden you to say.

"I've already called Namjoon, it'll all be fine. Don't worry." He works his jaw and rubs your hand with surprising tenderness, glancing to the little window in the door every other second.

He's been assuring you with those same words for the past half hour, but it feels like it's been an eternity. As you glance at the clock on the wall, watching the hands tick by, you imagine a scene like that of a health documentary. Tiny sperm, swimming up your insides… fertilizing your previously dormant eggs.

Fuck. You've fucked up.

You might be pregnant with Min Yoongi's child. Your Opticon birth control implant could send you into toxic shock at any moment.

You don't see how things can get much worse than this.

The door finally opens, and what appears to be a nurse steps inside. She holds a clipboard, and examines it while she lets the door close behind her. "Let's see now, Miss..." Her shoulders slump marginally as her eyes reach your name. "Oh, right. The PhysCom."

You don't have the energy to ignore the change in her tone from friendly to disinterested, and simply nod. However, you feel Yoongi stiffen beside you.

The nurse lets out a brief sigh and dons a professional expression. "So, what appears to be the problem?" She directs the question to Yoongi.

"We think her birth control implant isn't working." Yoongi explains, his eyes darting furtively between you and the nurse. "She, um… she reached orgasm."

You flush at the memory, ashamed of your failure to adhere to even the most basic of rules set before you.

The nurse makes a noncommittal noise and jots something down. "Says here it’s an Opticon. And you didn't turn it off, sir?"

He shakes his head.

The nurse touches the end of her pen to her mouth, a note of sympathy forming in her eyes. Not for you, but for Yoongi. "How long have you had her?"

"Excuse me?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

The nurse tucks the clipboard under her arm, giving him a weary, patient smile. “With PhysComs, we have a list of probable scenarios we’re supposed to check for, to better inform the doctor of the situation, and speed along the treatment process.”

She barely spares you a glance before returning her attention to Yoongi, her voice lowered just a fraction. “It’s not uncommon for newly hired female PhysComs to try and… well, intentionally get pregnant from their clients. Especially if those clients have any amount of wealth or status.”

Yoongi seems lost for words.

She nods as if to agree with his surprise. “It’s some psychosis associated with the job,” she says with a shrug, then straightens her posture once more. “So has she been acting strangely at all? What are her symptoms?”

Your ears burn a bit at being talked about like you’re not in the room, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been in such a position. Oftentimes checkups during training were the same way, the physicians would speak exclusively among themselves and Madame while they examined every inch of you, inside and out.

Yoongi, however, is not used to such an experience.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He says, in a voice much calmer than you would have expected. But one glance at his face tells you all you need to know. His eyes are burning like hot coals. Molten and dangerous.

The nurse doesn’t pick up on his irritation, and busily flips through the pages on her clipboard. “I need reliable information, sir. If you please,” she prompts him.

You can feel Yoongi’s hand clench around yours, and you turn to quiet him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hoping to reassure him enough so he’ll talk to her, but he stands his ground, his eyes glued on the nurse.

“Get out,” Yoongi says.

The nurse does a double take. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I said get the fuck out of here.” He points to the door. “Send us someone who will actually help.”

She fumes silently for a moment, but decides not to argue with him, and heads for the door in a huff.

Yoongi scoffs as you two are left alone once more. “What the fuck kind of bedside manner was that supposed to be?” He mutters, staring at the door.

“It’s okay.” You place a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s not.” He’s adamant, and you sigh wearily. How do you explain that this is only what can be expected?

You pick out a few haphazard words from the maelstrom in your brain, too tired to find the best phrasing. “Medical personnel… they don’t really get it.”

“Get what?” He asks, turning to you in outrage. “Being a fucking decent human being?”

You flinch, withdrawing your hand. You’re too tired to try and get your point across. But he notices you wilt and immediately comes closer, lowering his voice and placing both his hands on your arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the edge of anger fading away to gentleness. Kindness. “What do you mean?”

You sigh, looking off to the side. You don’t deserve to have him look at you like that.

You carefully remove his hands, trying to maintain some semblance of a professional distance, even in the face of disaster. “Most hospitals don’t look favorably at PhysComs. We were given a few lectures about it in training. We use up their resources and time that could instead be given to patients who didn’t willingly put themselves at risk.”

You remember how your fellow trainees had reacted after those discussions. Many of them found the treatment to be unfair, but you yourself felt that, in a way, the medical field’s viewpoint was reasonable. Your choices are what landed you here.

“What the- what are you talking about?” He huffs, still seemingly in the dark. “You didn’t ask for this… this scare. It wasn’t your fault.” He tries to meet your eyes, but your gaze is fixed firmly to the linoleum floor.

A mirthless smile paints your lips. “But I chose this life. And these risks along with it.”

Before he can question you further, the door bursts open and Kim Namjoon enters the room, both his dress shirt and his hair are rumpled, and his eyes are frantic. “Sweetheart?” He rushes to your side and crushes you in a hug. “Are you alright?”

You hear Yoongi let out a breath of relief. “She’s okay, for the moment.”

Something about the way Namjoon holds you feels like a lamp being held against your cold skin. You’re too damp inside to light a flame yourself, but his own body warms you from the outside in the meantime. You want to let yourself enjoy it, but the memory of your unresolved questions leaves you limp in his arms, filled with nothing but misery and confusion.

He pulls back after a moment, checking you over for signs of injury. His eyes are wide with concern. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

A flare of shame rises up in you at the notion of telling Namjoon about your rule-breaking and everything that occured since this morning.

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to sense your hesitance, and he fills in most of the pieces for Namjoon. Namjoon’s expression remains stoic as Yoongi recounts what happened - you being brought home unconcious, seducing Yoongi - up until the mention of your orgasm. Namjoon’s jaw slackens slightly at this, and his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

It’s at this moment that the doctor walks in, a different nurse at his side. He’s a slightly older man, a few wrinkles creasing his brow, and a smile that appears kind until it lands on you. His face is then tinged with that same indifference that most medical professionals give you.

You wish it was your usual physician, but since this was an emergency, you didn’t have time to take the trip to your usual practice. Whatever hospital is nearest, that’s what Yoongi had told the driver.

The man turns to Namjoon, who arguably commands more presence than Yoongi, and the kindness returns. “Sorry for the delay. Busy night. From what I understand, your PhysCom has malfunctioned, is that correct?”

“Her Opticon malfunctioned, yes.” Namjoon corrects him. His diplomatic tendencies are a blessing right now. You just want to know if you’re pregnant or not. You want to know if you’re losing your job. You want to go home.

The doctor runs a few physical tests on you, feeling your breasts, peering down your throat, and examining your vaginal canal, checking for any other symptoms of malfunction from your Opticon. “All’s well so far.” He says, pulling his forefingers out of you, snapping off his gloves, and disposing of them. “May I take a look at the ComGear?”

You feel a flash of panic, waking you out of your stupor. Fuck, was it still in the group chat? You pull out the slim device, heart hammering as you check. Nope. Just settings. Thank god.

You hand it over, and then remember with a looming feeling of dread exactly why it might have been left on the settings page...

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving… Now it’s time for you to receive.”

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

The pieces fall into place, and there’s no doubt in your mind. They must have switched it off.

But why? Why, why, why…?

The doctor - you’re too frazzled to read his nametag - pulls out a pair of reading glasses and takes a look at your ComGear, poking around the device with his pointer finger. “Hm. Strange.” He squints. “The Opticon does appear to be switched off.”

Namjoon blinks. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.” The doctor shows him the setting, the toggle very much in the off position. Namjoon takes the device and looks at it in shock.

The doctor coughs. “I know that, um… for some individuals, the temptation and the… risk associated with no protection during intercourse can be sexually arousing. It’s not the first time we’ve gotten a case like this.”

He removes his glasses, folding them back into his pocket. “However, I would remind you and anyone else who uses this one’s services that although Physical Companions may be virtually expendable, it can become quite expensive for your own sake to impregnate them on a whim, using and discarding them, what with the standard fees for breaching their contract and-”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Namjoon interrupts him, and you notice the iron grip he now has on Yoongi’s arm. Likely the only thing restraining him from throwing a punch. “We’ll be more careful.” Namjoon glances at you, confusion making a little crease between his brows. “Is there some sort of morning after pill she can take, or…?”

“I’m afraid the lingering effects of the Opticon implant render any outside hormone blockers ineffective.” The doctor says, his smile turning thin. “It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. The hormone production and ovulation suppressant in the Opticon normally make the chance of fertilization zero percent while in use. After it’s switched off, chances are still fairly low at 30 percent, for up to 24 hours. But the chances of fertilization after taking a morning after pill are significantly lower than that, at only five percent.”

He shrugs. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Chances are, your PhysCom will be right as rain and ready to pleasure clients again in about a week.”

A week.

First a week of suspension on Namjoon’s terms… Now it’s on medical advisement.

“A week? What should we do until then?” Namjoon voices your very thoughts, Yoongi seething silently beside him.

“Well, we won’t have any results until three to five days from now.” The man clarifies. “But I highly recommend you leave the implant switched off and keep her on traditional contraceptives until we know for sure. I strongly recommend utilizing other PhysComs in the meantime, just to be safe.”

You’re finished.

The doctor hands Namjoon a paper bag, most likely containing birth control pills and condoms. “She may be somewhat volatile for the next few days. You can bring her in for another checkup in a week.”

You’re weak.

“Thank you.”

You’re numb.

-------

It was a silent car ride back to the house, and as Namjoon helps you step out of the vehicle, one hand holding yours for stability while the other rests on your lower back, you can’t help feeling utterly useless. Detached from your surroundings.

What’s the point of any of this now? There’s no way they’ll want to use you until this is resolved. You’re of no use to them as a sex toy until at least a week from now, and by then it’ll be far too late to earn their favor back.

“We need to have a meeting. Call the others into the living room.” Namjoon speaks to Yoongi in an undertone, and you feel a small ache of hope. Maybe things will work out if everyone just talks to each other.

But when you enter the house and Namjoon begins to steer you upstairs, you finally find your voice.

“No.” You resist against him, turning around at the base of the stairs. “No, I want to be part of the meeting.”

The surprise quickly fades from his face, instead turning to concern. “You need to rest."

Something about the look on his face, about being told yet again through his actions that this doesn’t concern you, it causes something inside you to snap, your apathy vanishing in the wake of this new beast beginning to rear its ugly head within you.

Your throat closes up and a scream erupts from your aching chest. "You don't know what I need!"

Namjoon matches your desperation with an infuriatingly patient look of sympathy. He approaches you, his hand outstretched, but you stagger back away from him. He smiles sadly and drops his hand. "Stay here. It's what's best for you."

What's best for you.

The words throb in your mind, like the memory of an old wound. They bounce listlessly off the walls of your grandiose prison long after Namjoon shuts the door, sealing you away again.

You don't know what comes over you as you see visions of launching yourself at the door, pounding and scratching at the wood like a wild animal.

You could just open the door and follow him downstairs. Some part of you does register that.

But you want them to hear you. You want them to hear you rip your throat raw as you exorcise your demons.

You blink and you're standing still.

You haven't moved.

Your spacious room feels stifling. Like the walls are closing in on you, suffocating you.

Silken ropes sway in the dusk, catching your eye from beyond the balcony window. Your escape route from earlier that day.

You don't think twice before stuffing a few meager belongings into the long forgotten backpack kicked beneath your bed.

You need to leave this place.

You can't stay here.

-------

It had started drizzling not long after you left the house, and even now as you sit on the damp curbside, waiting for the next bus to take you far away from this place, it strikes you as funny, in a way, that the weather is crying for you, since you can't muster any tears of your own.

It's cold and misty, a foreboding atmosphere, by all accounts. It makes you question if what you're about to do is the right call.

But you shut down the arguments in your head as quickly as they appear.

Second guessing was what had gotten you into this situation. You need to follow your instincts.

And your instincts are telling you to flee.

It won't be so bad, you try to convince yourself. After the first night on the road, you'll eventually find a new town, a new home, a new place for yourself in this fucked up world. You've done it before, you can do it again.

You're considering suitable aliases for your new persona, when you sense another person approaching, their shoes tramping through the wet grass.

You don't look up at them, hoping they'll pass by and leave you alone. But they come to a stop beside you.

You keep your gaze on the road, droplets rippling the puddled potholes.

Then the stranger goes to sit on the curb too, and you can't help but look at them.

You'd recognize those lips anywhere, even beneath a baggy hooded sweatshirt.

"It's a bit late to run errands, don't you think?" Seokjin says, pulling his sleeves down to keep out the chill as he perches beside you.

He glances at you, then looks ahead at the road, the same way you were. You return your gaze forward, too exhausted to make a run for it. Though you don't get the sense that he would chase after you, even if you tried to escape.

Maybe that's exactly why you decide to stay put, but you don't give the suspicion any more thought.

"What do you want?" You finally ask, your voice croaky from being silent for so long.

"Nothing."

"Liar," you mutter, hugging your knees to your chest. "Everyone wants something."

He chuckles. Rests back on his hands. "I guess you're right about that."

Damn right you are. You didn't study the human condition through your years of training to be fooled so easily by pretty words.

"So?" You prompt him, still staring at the dreary horizon.

He takes a moment to respond. The silence is punctuated by the distant noises of traffic, an occasional car passing by, its headlights shimmering in the mist before disappearing down the road.

“The others are all out looking for you, you know,” he says simply. “Why do you think that is?”

If it were anyone else that had run away - their manager, a friend - you know what the answer would be. Because they care about that person. But how can you believe that about yourself, when you know you can never amount to anyone with that level of importance to them?

Ironic, since you’re the person with which they can be most intimate and vulnerable.

“I’m a liability,” you reply halfheartedly.

His silence serves to confirm your suspicions. A runaway PhysCom? Far too risky for a group at their level. You could become one of those anonymous sources like you saw in the news. A firsthand account of the BTS members’ secret sexual urges. Unacceptable. Snatches of words from the NDA you signed buzz around the edges of your mind like stray flies.

But since you're no longer connected to your network, then your tracker is probably disconnected. If the bus had come just a little earlier, you might already have escaped without a trace.

“You really think that’s the only reason?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to the moment.

His abysmal attempt to divert from the problem gets a hollow laugh out of you.

“Any other reason has ulterior motives. It’s just business.” You check the time on your ComGear. The bus should be here any minute. “I’m leaving, and I won’t let you stop me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he agrees, to your surprise. “God knows you’ve been put through enough.” He then leans forward, resting his forearms across his legs. “But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Your ears perk up at this.

Seokjin seems to take your silence as permission to continue. “The reason we decided to suspend you. It wasn’t… entirely selfless.”

You purse your lips in irritation and fix your gaze upon the horizon, settling your chin beneath your crossed arms. “Right. Ulterior motives, like I said.”

He clicks his tongue. “Touche.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, what… were you planning to replace me?” You ask, trying to sound contemptuous. “I heard you all having your little group meeting in the kitchen. There are plenty of shiny new whores at your disposal, take your pick.”

He still makes no noise.

You wait, preparing to accept a bitter confirmation of all your fears.

But then he finds his voice. “We could never replace you, dear.”

You stop. Look over at him. His eyes are half lidded, his smile bittersweet as he stares off into the distance. After a few moments, he fishes around in his pocket and pulls something out, then hands it to you.

His smartphone.

“Here,” he murmurs, sympathy in the quirk of his lips. “In case you need to call anyone. Those devices they give you don’t have a cell plan, I assume.”

He seems to sense your wariness, and waves the phone a bit in a gesture of insistence. “I can buy a dozen new ones. It’s no trouble.”

You very hesitantly take it. “Thanks.”

Of course, he has no way to know that your ComGear is now jailbroken, for all intents and purposes. But… is this a trap? What if there’s a tracker in the phone? But why would he need to put a tracker in it if he doesn’t know your ComGear is off the grid?

The rumble of an approaching motor pulls you out of your cyclical thoughts, and you get on your feet, slowly coming out of your dissociative sulk.

But you still feel numb. Nothing matters anymore.

Nothing at all.

Jin gets up along with you, slipping his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Stay safe, alright?”

You give a brief nod of acknowledgment, only half in his direction as you shrug your bag onto your shoulder more securely. The hydraulics of the bus screech as the vehicle comes to a stop and lowers slightly, allowing you to step onboard.

You glance back, fully expecting Jin to stop you. But he doesn’t. He blinks raindrops out of his eyes while you board, and gives you a small smile once the doors close behind you. He lifts a hand in farewell, then turns and starts to walk away down the street.

He’s really letting you go.

You pay your fare and find a seat towards the back of the nearly empty bus. Rain pelts at the windows, picking up in earnest, and it feels like yet another layer, another barrier, separating yourself and creating an ever-growing chasm from the life you knew up until yesterday.

You pull out Jin’s phone, staring at the dark screen and wiping away stray raindrops from the surface with your sleeve. Why had he come to find you, if not to stop you?

“But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Maybe he felt guilty. Or remorseful for the hell you’ve been put through recently. You would normally have felt immense satisfaction at such a thought.

But you can’t feel much of anything right now.

You don’t think you’ll be able to feel properly again. At least not for a long, long time…

Hm? The screen lit up. You must have pressed a button by accident. You swipe at it again, and to your surprise it unlocks. Who doesn’t put a passcode on their phone?

Is it possible… he disabled it before he gave it to you? Maybe. Whatever. You’re so tired of thinking, playing investigator and second guessing people’s motivations.

You scroll over to the phone icon, and tap on it, briefly considering calling your parents. But the wetness on your fingers messes with the touchscreen and you open the messages app instead.

You’re about to wipe the screen and try again, but… the most recent messages are… all about you. You tap on the group chat among the seven of them, currently bustling with activity.

[ Kim Namjoon ]: has anyone found her [ Park Jimin ]: hyung I’m so sorry [ Park Jimin ]: it’s all my fault [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not at the studio [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’ll talk about it later Jimin [ Kim Namjoon ]: everyone keep looking [Jeon Jungkook]: manager said they can call her network to track her down [Kim Taehyung ]: should we do that? [ Jung Hoseok ]: no! she could get in trouble :( [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not a stray pet [ Kim Namjoon ]: exactly [ Kim Namjoon ]: we need to keep this quiet for her sake [Kim Taehyung ]: she hasn’t replied to my texts or calls [ Min Yoongi ]: me neither [Jeon Jungkook]: hyung... will she be okay? [ Kim Namjoon ]: everything will be fine don’t worry [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’re going to fix this somehow [ Min Yoongi ]: whatever it takes [ Jung Hoseok ]: where could she have gone... [ Park Jimin ]: what if she doesn’t come back?

You scroll further up, past days and weeks and months of texts between them… not even a day between mentions of you. Wondering if you’re alright. Hoping you’ve eaten enough. Wanting to do more with you.

The thread of texts Jimin sent to Seokjin just yesterday.

Hyung I wish things were different I want to hold her I want to tell her she’s enough I wish I could kiss her… I think I love her Do you ever feel that way?

And Seokjin’s reply.

I do I know just what you mean Why do you think I turned those secondaries away last night, hm? No one can compare She really is special…

He didn’t… fuck the secondaries? After you broke at dinner, he… didn’t...?

You switch to his thread with Namjoon from a few days ago.

I know you’re our leader but I don’t think this is the way to go You need to be more cautious

Namjoon’s reply.

What we need is action, hyung If we work together on this, we could get rid of these unnecessary rules We could all have what we want Including her It’s what’s best for everyone

Seokjin took several minutes to reply.

You’re going to lose her.

Jin knew. He tried to talk Namjoon out of writing that stupid essay, or maybe it was about your suspension.

Either way, he defended you.

You open his thread with Hoseok. Dimly, you recognize that you shouldn’t be snooping, but you’re too absorbed to stop.

Hyung, I think she really wants this All of us ♡ I don’t know how, but we need to show her that it’s okay That we want it just as much

How do you know that’s what she wants?

I can’t say ♡ But I know now She wouldn’t reject us Our feelings She feels something too

The date and time lines up with this morning. The morning after he made love to you.

He didn’t tell them. He kept your secret.

“Our feelings”? What does he mean? Him, Jimin, Taehyung… Seokjin? Do they all…?

Your head spins, the hollowness of your heart filling with a rush of jumbled emotions, like a tide crashing in. All your numbness is washed out with light, just a pinprick at first, that grows rapidly into a ray of warmth as you consider what all this could mean. The chasm starts to narrow, and you get the urge to jump ship, to turn back and figure this shit out. To know once and for all what they want from you. What you mean to them.

But how can you trust this isn’t a trap? How can you be sure?

The answer is as simple as they come.

You can’t.

You can’t be absolutely certain that their intentions are pure… that this is the right thing to do… that you won’t be hurt again.

But maybe... trust isn’t about being infallible. Being right. Being sure.

Maybe it’s built on what ifs. On trying again, even with no guarantees.

Guarantees are only as good as their word, and talk is cheap. Lies are easy. Your Opticon had a 100% guarantee, and look where that got you.

But you remember the way Hoseok held you that night, and made love to you like you’ve never felt in your life... When Jimin kissed his way down your body, with only the best of intentions. Namjoon’s strong arms embracing you when you felt powerless. Yoongi’s hand never leaving yours, even while you waited in the hospital. Jungkook carrying you home after you fainted, breaking your door to make sure you were safe in bed. The look in Taehyung’s eyes when he finally kissed you, breaking the ice you’d been growing around your heart.

How Seokjin let you go.

Maybe...

You get up with a start, rush to the front of the bus, and hastily ask the driver to let you off, much to the old man’s disgruntlement, but the moment the doors whoosh open, you take off at a run.

You want to go home.

You want to try again.

No matter how much you try to bury it, to forget the way they make you feel, you care about them. All of them. On a much deeper level than that of a PhysCom and client. And it scares you.

But you’re done running from fear. From uncertainty.

Now you’re running towards it willingly, as you give chase down the torrential streets, searching for that familiar hooded figure and hoping you’re not too late. You’re embracing the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty, the paranoia... letting their shadowy claws sink into you until they can’t hurt you anymore. Until they fade away, cowering under the glow of your determination.

You’re setting some new rules for yourself, no longer letting fear control your thoughts and actions, barring you from any chance of happiness.

You see Seokjin in the distance, trudging home through the pouring rain. You run faster.

You’re fucking terrified. But you’ve never felt so free in your life.

“Jin!” You shout to get his attention, still a block away. He turns around, and shakes his head, seemingly confused, but a smile starts to appear. You smile too.

Finally, you catch up to him, and without warning, you throw your arms around his shoulders. Damn, he’s always taller than you remember.

He laughs, shocked by your change of heart. “What are you doing?”

“I want to hear you say it.” You reply, looking up at him as rain dashes down your face. You don’t know when you started crying, but you’re grateful to the weather for masking your tears.

“Say what?” He asks, his hands resting on your waist to support you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain sliding down his perfect face.

“How you feel about me.” You reply, studying his eyes. “Be honest.”

He seems to sense the gravity in your words. He holds you closer. His eyes soften.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

For the first time since all of this started, you sense no deception in his words, no double meaning, no hidden agenda.

Because you aren’t searching for reasons to doubt this time.

You’re searching for reasons to trust, and you find them.

You want to kiss him. So you do.

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #thank you all for waiting ;w;

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imfiguringitoutlovely · 3 years

Note

Good morning (it’s 3 AM for me rn 😅) and I accidentally over-exerted myself (by studying for 7 hours straight) and am currently dealing with a massive headache that refuses to go away so now I can’t sleep...

Can you please write headcanons, a short story, or whatever you’d like of Gang Orca (I simp for the fish-man too 🙌) with an SO in my situation? It would be very much appreciated!

gang orca with workaholic reader

pairing: gang orca x gn!reader (they/them)

genre: "sick"fic, comfort, fluff

warnings: mentions of burnout

author's notes: GANG ORCA SIMPS UNITE I LOVE THIS MAN AND HH i sWear, i can never decide if i want to marry him or be adopted by him bc the dilf energy 😩

im also really sorry you're dealing with that. :( i know how absolutely horrible it feels to work yourself to the bone only to have your body punish you for it. please take care of yourself! you deserve to be mentally and physically healthy :)

from day one of you two dating, kugo made his admiration of your determination to work very clear. it was very important to him that his partner understood the importance of work and why it was, at times, harder for him to straighten out his work vs home priorities.

past partners had expected this luxurious, attention-filled life, but it just wasn't the reality of his work. he wasn't really home, and when he was, he was doing digital work. running a hero agency as the #12 hero took a lot more than saving a couple people a day, so his partner would have to accept that though they didn't come second, there would be times where work had to take priority. and you not only understood that, but lived in the same world as it.

because of this, though, he was also placed in the same position of those past partners. and god, now he realized how wearing it was emotionally.

this man loved you. you two were in it for the long, long, long run, so to see you work your health away made his heart ache terribly. it inspired him, actually, to give in and hire more employees soley devoted to paperwork so he didn't put the same worry up for you.

the problem of your restless nights still continued, though. you worked yourself to the bone everyday, all day. since you worked from home, from the minute you were up to the second you were forced to tap out, you were working. kugo would be in bed first after getting home, assuring you ate dinner, and getting ready for bed. you'd normally go to bed about half an hour after him and he'd be able to soothe you to sleep.

they weren't healthy hours, but he was glad you weren't fighting the sleep too much.

one night, though, you threw up a big middle finger to your body's needs. your boss had added more to your workload. you were far too close to a promotion (MY DUMBASS WROTE "upgrade" FIRST DJDNEKE) to stop now. you took it on, promising you'd knock out at least half before the next day.

you woke up, made coffee, helped kugo prepare his lunch, and then started on your work. he wasn't even out the door when you were in your first virtual meeting of the day which started ramping up his concern.

you went through several meetings, moving around the house at times to try and stay as comfortable as possible so you could get your work done effeciently.

you'd forgotten to eat, though, running on coffee and pure will. and fear of losing your job. your partner got home at around 10pm, walking up to where you were taking your seat at the breakfast bar in your kitchen. he made sure you knew he was there before hugging you from behind.

"darling?" he looked at your computer screen. "still working, dear?"

"mmhm..." you leaned back into his chest, but didn't pause your reading. "i ordered in ikayaki." you quickly gestured to the paper bag on the table. "it shouldn't be cold yet, it came in ten minutes ago."

he toom notice of the lack of utensils out and dishes in the sink. "have you eaten yet?"

"later."

"darling..." he let out a gentle sigh and pulled away. he didn't try moving you away from your work, instead opting to prepare your plate and setting it next to your laptop. "i understand how important today's work is in particular, but your health should always be your primary concern. i'll eat with you, too." he sat next to you without invading your space, not expecting a reply and not at all bothered when those expectations were met. he was happy when you ate some of your dinner, but found himself lost in worry again when he'd finished and you seemed to forget your own was there in the first place. "i'll be right back." he stood and went to get ready for bed.

after his shower and usual night routine, he went back to you to see thst you'd completely abandoned dinner and returned to your coffee. "isn't it a bit late for coffee?"

"almost done. couple more documents." he just hummed in understanding before taking his place on the couch a few feet away. something just didn't feel right. you were far less respondent than usual, and you were typing a lot faster. you were anxiously focused on the work at hand.

also, turns out "couple more" meant an entire large file's worth. kugo himself had started drifting off when he noticed you taking a break. he stood when he realized it was too the medicine cabinet.

"sweetheart?"

"headache," you whispered, more to yourself. the lights just seemed brighter, and your laptop looked kinda blurry. your head was started to pulse painfully.

"you've had a lot of caffeine." he didn't have to see every cup you put down to know. "and im assuming you haven't had a proper meal today. that paired with hardly any amount of break time is a recipe for extreme discomfort." he helped you read the pain medication and got out a safe dose for your headache. he grabbed a waterbottle, too, and handed it to you. "you can finish dinner in bed."

"kugo." you took the medication and water. "i need to finish this file."

"you need to rest. you've been pushing yourself extremely hard these past few months and your body can't handle so much stress. please." he let you take the pills before touching his nose to your head. "i don't go in to the agency tomorrow. i can help you catch up in the morning, and then we can go to lunch together, hm?" it's been quite a while since you two'd been on a date.

you toom a while and considered your options. you were about to decline, but then another wave of violent pulsing hit. you sighed out shakily and closed your eyes to block out the agitating kitchen lights. "yeah um... can-can you save my document before turning the laptop off, please?"

he agreed and did so. he also picked you up while you were on your way to the bedroom. you didn't jump or push. this wasn't uncommon for you two, and neither was his pokite question of whether or not he had permission to help you get dressed into your pajamas. once you were ready for bed, he even tucked you in before making sure the home's security system was set.

once everything was ready, he went back to the bed and climbed in with you. the bed dipped significantly which you took as your sign to move to basically lay on top of him he loved it when you did that, though.

"feeling better, dear?" he ran a hand up and down your back to try and ease your obvious nerves.

"mh... my head..."

it was a long night. with the way your head was hurting, it took hours and hours for you to be able to rest at all. in the morning, though, he allowed you to sleep in, even joining you after his ten minutes of being awake.

this became something of a ritual, though he tried to catch things before they got to the point where you were in pain.

he would come home, make sure you ate and drank water, got some rest, and would do anything to help you relax. sometimes he'd hold you on the couch on his lap, other times he'd hold you in bed. hell, one time you fell asleep in the bath while he gave you a glorious scalp massage. of course you returned the sentiment, making sure he got as much rest as possible in the morning, making him breakfast, and calling into his job at times to check up on him.

yes, you two were workaholics. but you two would work through it together.

rest.

wait no

wait-

#x male reader #xmale!readerblog #x gender neutral reader #x nonbinary reader #nonbinary #my hero academia #fanfic #gang orca #gang orca x reader #gang orca x gn!reader #mha #bnha #bnha gang orca #read with me lovelies

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

Text

hi y’all<3 here’s a new section of the gallavich as seen from alternate POVs fic, this time featuring lip!!!! (i wanted to wait til after the ✨lickey drama✨ in the new ep before posting, but then i decided against it bc i didn’t want to re-write this lol)

i started to have way too many feelings while writing this so it’s a little lengthy and contemplative, but rest assured it features some domestic fluff/ian and mickey being disgustingly in love- i hope u enjoy<3

Lip shuffled into the kitchen of the Gallagher house, opening the fridge door and reaching past the clanging beer bottles to grab a metal soda can on the way back of the shelf, hearing a faint fizz escape as he popped the tab. It was late, the moonlight streaming in across the kitchen through the worn curtains and pooling on the kitchen floor— after Tami had crashed in their bed at the apartment after a long day at work and Freddie was sleeping soundly in his crib, Lip had come by the Gallagher house, without really knowing why. He just needed to clear his head, to get some distance from Tami and all her relentless nagging about moving and apartment hunting and his colossally obvious fuck-up with the bikes— he just needed some space, some less stifling air to breathe outside of their half-packed apartment crammed with boxes lining the walls.

It was funny; no matter how much energy Lip had poured into he and Tami’s first apartment, into painting the walls and agonizing over their kitchen backsplash like it was his first-born son, whenever Lip thought about home, whenever he felt that pit of uneasiness growing in his stomach and he just needed a place where he could lie back on a couch and loosen the knots in his shoulders and breathe in familiar air that would fill him up, instead of the too-clean smell of Tami’s flowery potpourri that she’d placed on the expensive coffee table in their living room— Lip always found his feet leading him across the slabs of sidewalk and past the chain link fences towards the Gallagher house, no matter the time of night. He had only been in the house for a few minutes before he felt the tight-knit something in his chest begin to unfurl— he didn’t even want to start to think about what was lodged there. This had been a crazy fucking couple of months, and he wasn’t going to start getting sappy about selling the house now, not when they were so close. He’d dug a hole too deep this time, and he needed the money. He couldn’t fuck up again— not with Freddie to take care of. No matter what it cost him.

So that’s how Lip ended up sitting at the Gallagher kitchen table at 2 a.m. on a Thursday night, sipping at an overly-sugary pop that was no substitute for what he really wanted to be drinking right now—he could imagine how it would warm the insides of his stomach, how it would cushion whatever weird fucking ache was in his chest right now. But— no. Fuck no. He wasn’t going to do that now. Everything about selling the house, about moving on, was about getting his shit straight— about leaving the bad parts of this sagging roof and these stained floorboards behind him.

Lip slouched in the wooden kitchen chair, scrolling on his phone and finally letting out a breath he didn’t really know he had been holding in all day, when he heard a creaking of footsteps padding at the top of the stairs— too heavy to be Liam or Debbie, too careful and unfumbling to be Frank dragging himself through the house. Lip flickered a glance up from where he was sitting and met Ian’s eyes as he turned the corner of the stairs, his skin looking translucent and overly pale in the moonlight like the ginger motherfucker he was.

Ian nodded his head towards Lip in acknowledgement, like he wasn’t surprised in the slightest that his older brother with a whole ass family and apartment of his own was decidedly squatting in the kitchen of his childhood home, drinking a pathetic-looking can of Dr. Pepper. Ian slid open the fridge door, grabbing a beer and swiftly popping the cap off by knocking the bottle on the side of the counter—and then in an instant it became one of those quiet, familiar nights when it was just Lip and Ian in the kitchen, sometimes letting easy conversations flow between them, but other times, just like this— just sinking into each other’s presence in the silence. Ian’s shadow mingling with the moonlight on the kitchen floor immediately snapped the atmosphere from lonely and self-pitying and stale to something lighter, something familiar—like the worn, buttery leather of a baseball glove that fits just right.

Instantly Lip was brought back to so many nights before this, of he and Ian orbiting each other in the kitchen at night— when they were kids and would creep down the stairs and eat fistfuls of junk food that Fiona had forbidden, or steal warm sips of the open beers Frank had left on the counter. This was where they’d processed Monica’s return, late at night while they passed a cigarette between them and Ian hadn’t tried to hide the tears that were freely rolling down his freckled cheeks, back when they were both just confused kids who clung to each other— this was where they’d processed Frank’s alcoholic meltdowns, too many to count, and all the love and loss and confusion that had passed between these walls, all the collateral damage of living in this fucking neighborhood. And Lip felt a sudden pang in his gut, sharp and present, when he realized that it might be one of the last nights that he and Ian got to spend in the kitchen like this.

Lip immediately shoved the thought down with all his might, a hydraulic press squeezing out any sentimentality. He had to do this— for Freddie, for Tami. He had to man up and move on, even if it meant physically wounding the crumbling walls to ease the pain of the parallel jagged wounds somewhere deep in his chest, or screaming and shouting until veins popped in his neck, so loud that he knew he was radiating his pain outwards like a fucking atomic bomb.

But tonight, Lip had no more fight left to give. He just wanted to let these four walls hold him one last time, without even realizing that was what he had needed until this moment. Ian slid a chair out from the kitchen table and sat beside him, leaning back and dragging out a slow, sleepy breath.

Lip cleared his throat, softly. “Where’s Mick?”

“Passed out upstairs.” Ian scrubbed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Lip raised his eyebrow, almost involuntarily, and Ian immediately jutted his chin up in a half-nod, an affirmation, as he leaned back even farther and took the first sip of his beer. No, he wasn’t manic and yes, he was fine. After all the years that had passed since Ian was still figuring this shit out, Lip sometimes forgot that checking in on him wasn’t really his job, not anymore.

Lip took another sip from his soda can, a movement to fill the easy silence. “How was your guys’ night?”

Ian shrugged non-committally, his shoulders still slumped back in the chair, his lips puckered around the mouth of the bottle as he stared off into the distance at the peeling kitchen wallpaper. “Eh. It was fine. I dragged Mickey out to try and make more gay friends. Ended up being a mistake.”

Lip held back a laugh, taking a sip from his own drink to mask his smirk. He had ample auditory evidence that Mickey was plenty as gay as Ian, but it was still hard to imagine Mickey leaning into all of this shit— Ian used to wear golden underwear and frequent gay clubs and go to social justice brunches, but none of that really seemed like it was Mickey’s scene.

“Oh yeah? Mickey not the easiest person to befriend?” Lip said it with his eyebrows raised, like the joke was obvious.

Ian looked up at him, like he’d been snapped out of a sleepy train of thought, staring earnestly like Lip’s jab had flown right over his head. “Actually, it was kind of my fault. I was the one who made us leave this dinner party thing we got invited to. They were all talking shit about the Southside, about how they hated their families, and I couldn’t really… connect with them, I guess.”

Lip pondered that, taking a breath and stretching his arms above his head. God, he was sore— he hadn’t even been fucking working, aside from hauling those bikes from place to place to avoid the cops, but all the pent up stress and tension was starting to linger in his bones.

“Yeah, it was the same for me. In college, or whatever. Joaquin was the only person I really talked to, because he got all the shit I was always going through.”

Ian nodded contemplatively—but he was staring off into space again, almost like he was half asleep. Lip took another sip of his soda. He could bring up the house shit again right now—it was all that they’d been talking about for the past few weeks—but for some reason it felt too raw, too intense to bring up right now, like it would cut through this peaceful moment, this island in the vast sea of uncertainty Lip knew he was bringing down on all of their heads. So in this moment, he opted for smoother waters.

“Why’d you guys go looking for new friends, anyways?”

Ian finally broke out of whatever drowsy, pensive trance he’d been in, his lips sloping into a smile. “Mickey kept giving me shit for always doing what you do, after breakfast today. I figured… I don’t know, I just got all pissy and tried to prove him wrong.”

Lip felt the corner of his mouth tick upward at that. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

Ian grinned, and held out his beer bottle, stretching his arm across the table. Lip tapped it with his soda can with a light “Cheers,” then took the final sip. He crushed the can to a disk on the table, pressing it down firmly with the heel of his palm and watching the sides compress. Ian’s eyes were cast downward at the table, watching his movements.

“How’s stuff with you and Tami going, all the packing and shit?”

Lip turned the flattened can on its side, contemplatively spinning it like a top on the table and fidgeting with it between his fingers.

“Honestly? I’m fucking exhausted.”

He could hear the breathiness as he said it, how deflated his own voice sounded. And Lip knew could make himself say more— he knew if anyone would get it, Ian would.

“It’s just… fuck, man.”

He looked up and Ian was staring directly at him now, his expression unguarded— listening. Listening like he always did in these moments. Lip let out a low chuckle, trying to shield his own vulnerability.

“How’d we get so fucking old? How is this… it, y’know? Finally leaving the fucking nest, or whatever.”

Ian smiled, placing his beer on the table. “I think you already left the nest when you had a baby and moved into an apartment with your girlfriend.”

Lip shrugged, fiddling with the crushed can again between his fingertips. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.”

“And you are the one making us do this, for the record.”

If Ian’s tone wasn’t as playful or as tentative as it was, Lip would have worried that he was upset— but judging by Ian’s still-comfortable slouch and his steady expression, Lip knew he was fine— he was weathering the storm, just like Lip was.

Ian leaned forward.

“Hey. Mickey was giving me shit—but it is true. You’re my best friend, even though you can be a fucking asshole sometimes.” Ian’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Ian’s eyes flickered around the kitchen as he spoke, and Lip heard everything that was unsaid. Even though you’re kicking us out of the house. Even though you’re changing everything. Even though there isn’t a focal point to our lives anymore.

You’re my best friend.

And Lip felt that pang in his gut again, sharp like a dagger.

He’d said it before, and he’d had no problem saying it over and over again in Mickey’s absence, up until the months before the wedding— Ian did always go a little bit “loco” when Mickey was around.

Which, fuck him, I guess, for caring about his little brother with an undiagnosed mental illness who was off living in the Milkovich House of Horrors slash meth lab with Mickey fucking Milkovich, the bully with greasy hair who Lip wrote papers for in high school and who now was a literal, actual, godforsaken pimp. Lip had seen a teenage Ian bruised and drunk and curled into himself crying over Mickey too many times to ever think that this shit was a good idea— and years later, when Ian almost threw away everything, almost threw away stability and sanity and his fucking family to follow Mickey Milkovich across the Mexican border, Lip knew he had to say something, even though it was an unspoken rule that he and Ian didn’t really critique each other’s love lives since the Mandy-and-Karen fiascos of years past.

So he’d said it, that day in the kitchen, after Ian had returned on a Greyhound bus and they were still processing the dull pain of Monica’s loss— and Ian had taken the feedback with a closed-lip smile, like his head was somewhere else, as he picked at the corner of the beer bottle label with his thumb.

And then less than a year later Mickey was released anyways, and ended up standing in a tank top and boxers in the middle of the Gallagher living room, when the house was crawling with strangers and Freddie was barely two weeks old— and Lip had taken in a sharp breath, a bundle of hesitant nerves sprouting for whatever the fuck this situation was going to become; but not one that he could really give attention to, with all the other bullshit that was pulling at his focus, like the desperate screeching of his newborn kid and the mascara running down Tami’s face.

Later that night, when he’d had a spare moment to breathe and Tami was finally calmed down and sleeping in their cramped bedroom, he’d run into Ian in the moonlit hallway as he was stumbling his way out of the bathroom, drowsily rubbing his eyes with his hair sticking up. And Lip had stopped him with a whisper, placing a hand to tap Ian’s shoulder as Ian blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey. So uh… I see Mickey’s out.”

He’d seen the defenses immediately raise in Ian’s eyes, like he knew what Lip was going to say next.

“Yeah.” Ian had said it soft, quietly, like he was afraid of someone waking.

You sure that’s a good idea? Lip could feel the words itching on the tip of his tongue, and he was aching to say them again, all these years later— and yes, maybe his head was so wrapped up in his own shit that he didn’t really have the authority to be doling out relationship advice to his little brother right now, but so much of this reminded him of things that had happened in the past, of Mickey Milkovich crashing on Ian’s bedroom floor until he inevitably couldn’t anymore, until the pressure cooker of his presence mingled with Ian’s inevitably exploded— or at least that was how Lip saw it. There were too many wounds, and they were bound to leave scars— Lip was honestly surprised as fuck that the Gallagher house was Mickey’s first stop out of prison, after everything that had gone down between the two of them.

But, for Ian’s sake, Lip tried to reign it in—despite the fact that they’d just been commiserating about “being in love with crazy people” as they crouched on the living room stairs the night before as Ian sipped on a beer, sputtering out a “fuck no” when Lip asked if he was going to marry Mickey (which was an equally as batshit question as if Lip was going to marry Tami). Despite all of this— now that Mickey was back, Lip could see that this was something Ian wanted, that this was something Ian was treading carefully into, one more time. He was definitely stronger now; even Lip could see that.

“He gonna be hanging around here a while?”

Ian had given a gentle, sleepy smile. “Yeah. Think so.��

And Lip had just reached out, and clapped Ian’s sleep-warmed body on the shoulder. “Sounds good, man.”

Ian had walked the remaining length of the hallway, opening the bedroom door— and in the shadows, Lip could see that Mickey was curled on the old, concave mattress of Ian’s single bed that he’d slept on since they were kids— and Ian had lifted the thin blanket and pressed up next to him, the mattress sinking beneath their collective weight, settling in and pressing a kiss to the top of a snoring Mickey’s head without a second thought. Huh.

That was the beginning of Lip starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, this time with Mickey would be different— and it was. As Mickey started to become a daily fixture in the Gallagher house, constantly pinned to Ian’s side, Lip had noticed how something solid had shifted—they weren’t reckless kids anymore, for starters. He hadn’t really seen Mick and Ian physically together since Ian was catapulting off the deep end, in the weeks after Ian had gotten dragged away by the P.I.s and Mickey had gotten locked up for some crazy fucking stunt trying to murder Sammy. Things were too intense then, too technicolor—for some reason, Lip thought Mickey being back meant that they’d return to being that way.

But now here was this guy, placing a gentle hand on Ian’s chest and saying “Woah, wait a minute” to protect Ian from the batshit P.O. that had just barged through the door—and Lip couldn’t help but realize that was something that he would have done to protect Ian, in a universe where Mickey was still behind bars.

After then, Lip just kept seeing it— the ways that Mickey showed up for Ian. Not even in the ways that he used to, like forcing Ian to take his meds back when everything was uncertain and Ian was slipping through their fingers like sand in a sieve; but in a more solid, adult way, in a way that made Ian buzz whenever he was around him, in a way that made Ian happier and lighter. And maybe it was just the sex—part of it had to be the fucking sex, considering how loud they always were— but Lip realized, after a couple of weeks of Mickey’s presence in the house before their whole eventual engagement fiasco, that Mickey was Ian’s friend, in addition to all the other things he was. After all the years of uncertainty, they’d finally grown the fuck up— Mickey was someone who brought out the best in Ian, and it was like Ian had been waiting for this moment, for Mickey by his side, before he could fully and totally bloom.

And it was weird how emotional that made Lip— after seeing Ian as a hollow shell in a jumpsuit pushing garbage cans around a college campus, or pretending to be someone he wasn’t who wore patterned button-up shirts and threw around fucking useless five-dollar words that Lip didn’t understand like “gender identity” and “intersectionality”— Ian had finally made it, beyond being the bruised, scrawny kid getting sexually abused by a creepy 30 year old man in the back room of a mini-mart, or getting high off his ass every night and starving himself to fit into a golden thong, or wearing a baggy janitor suit with dark circles under his eyes and pallid skin. Ian had done that shit on his own, and made himself into something in Mickey’s absence, sure— but so much of him being the full, happy person he was in this moment was because of Mickey, and Lip could see that now.

Ian was himself— he wasn’t a shadow anymore.

And that was why Lip had said he thought he should marry Mickey, in the end— because there was no doubt in his mind that Mickey Milkovich wasn’t going anywhere, not anytime soon.

Lip could still see it now, in the way that Ian was lounging comfortably in the living room, like he had his whole life— but now Mickey was resting just as comfortably beside him. It was a few weeks after that night in the kitchen, and Lip had just pitched the FOR SALE sign in the Gallagher front yard— now everyone was huddled in the living room, for what they now knew was one of their last lingering nights in this space. Liam was sitting next to Lip, pressed into his side, seeking the comfort that Lip knew he needed through all of these massive fucking changes— Franny was playing on the floor and Debbie was sitting beside her, and across the room Ian and Mickey were pressed side-by-side on the fraying loveseat, scrolling through the lease document for their new apartment on the battered laptop. They were murmuring things to each other that Lip couldn’t really make out— but Mickey was pressed against Ian, slouching into him slightly, and Ian’s eyes were light. In his flicker of a glance towards them, Lip noticed that Mickey was playing with Ian’s hand, swiping a finger over his wedding ring, as Ian scrolled through the paperwork and started to read all the contract information out loud— and Lip smiled to himself as he tried to tune out all the sappy bullshit that was going on in that corner of the room.

Ian was going to be just fine.

Hour later Lip strode out the door to the front porch, a cigarette he’d bummed off of Ian wrapped in his fist— he didn’t smoke anymore, especially not under the same roof as Tami, but there was something about the gravity of this night, of the flimsy red and white sign rooted in the front yard, that made Lip’s fingertips itch for a cigarette and made his brain buzz with the want of nicotine to dull the sharp edges of everything he was feeling—for smoke to float in front of his face while he sat on the front steps just one more time.

He perched on the front steps as the sun was just starting to set, the fish-scale shadows of the chain link fence encroaching further and further into the yard as he flicked at his lighter.

He heard a light cough from somewhere in front of him— and saw that Mickey was outside too, blowing smoke out of his mouth and leaning against the fence in the front yard facing the house. Lip nodded at him in acknowledgement, then took the first drag. Fuck, he’d needed this.

“You gonna miss this place?”

Mickey said it into the open air, like he isn’t really talking to Lip— his eyes were off in the distance, staring at the paint-chipped front façade of the house. Which was fucking bullshit—why would Mickey be staring absentmindedly, almost fucking wistfully, at the Gallagher house?

It’s not like he and Mickey didn’t talk— they definitely did, pragmatically flinging banter across the kitchen to each other at breakfast when coordinating rides for Liam or grocery list items when Debbie was off at work, existing in the same space every morning— and Mickey helped him haul literal tons of iron when he’d helped him steal the bikes, had haggled over his cut. But never like this—never with any weight, never in a way that was this casual, or this familial, about fucking feelings.

Part of that was probably because it was hard as fuck to worm your way into the Gallagher family—as wide open as their door always seemed to be, with people filtering in and out and crashing on hallway floors or the lumpy couch, this house only continued to function because of its nucleus— because of Lip and Ian and Carl and Debbie and Fiona and Liam and yes, even Frank. Everyone else was a passerby, an impermanent blip crossing through the way station; Jimmy-Steve, Sean, Carl’s slew of girls, Mandy and Karen.

Monica.

None of them were Gallaghers— none of them considered this place to be home, or got all the privileges that came with that. The Gallaghers, the real Gallaghers, had seen every one of these people come and go— and something slippery suddenly crept into Lip’s realization that despite all the odds, despite all of his doubts about him—Mickey had chosen to stay close to these four walls just as much as Lip had.

“Mickey’s family.” Ian had said it over a mouthful of bacon at breakfast a few weeks ago, and Lip had immediately shot him down; but maybe there was some truth to what Ian had said, some truth to the oddly unfailing consistency to Mickey’s ten years. Which meant that maybe…

Maybe it was time to make a fucking peace offering, or whatever.

Lip hummed in acknowledgement to Mickey’s question, pulling himself out of his train of thought.

“Hey. Mick.”

Mickey looked up at where Lip was leaning on the porch, his brows furrowing like he was bracing himself for a confrontation. “Yeah?”

“My head’s been too far up my ass the past couple of months to say it, but, uh. I’m glad you’re family, y’know?”

He’d been passively thinking it for months— but he’d never said it to Mickey, never this directly. He hoped Mickey got it, without brushing it off or shooting him down with some snarky fucking comment like he always did. Lip meant it— he was glad, he was grateful, he was ready to let Mickey Milkovich keep being a part of his fucked up familial life. And he hoped that Mickey saw that.

Mickey just rolled his eyes, taking another drag of his cigarette—but he didn’t say anything in reply, not for a moment. And then:

“You’re as sappy as your fucking brother, Phillip.”

#i’ve said it once and ill say it again nothing makes me more emo than ian and mickey sharing ian’s old bed #also sorry this was kinda ANGSTY what can i say #lip is Too Much #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #gallavich fanfiction #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #lip gallagher #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ixm

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realcube · 3 years

Text

soft haikyuu!! boys with a baddie* s/o 😈

characters: yamaguchi, hinata, suga, akaashi, nishinoya & tendou

tw// swearing

*(a/n): anon requested a kinda sassy, sarcastic reader and verbatim ‘she is basically a salt bag, but she also has like some sugar’ so i simplified that down to baddie :) so the reader isn’t really a delinquent but they are a bit rough around the edges uffabvrslbv

Tadashi Yamaguchi

he definitely thinks you’re really cool and he wants to be just like you :O

bc you give off ‘bad bitch who doesn’t care about what other ppl think about them’ energy and what he would give tO HAVE THAT!!

so that’s when he knew he needed to be your friend >:)

so he was like ‘tsukki, go talk to (y/n) for me >:)’ thinking that was his first step to becoming confident pfft

luckily, god was on his side though bc the teacher rearranged the seats and you and him were sitting next to each other

hence, he got the opportunity to talk to you without it seeming too forced

you both fell for each other so hard

like he would act tough to try impress you but you preferred his natural softness while you tried to act uncharacteristically docile so you wouldn’t scare him off but he liked you for your boldness

it was a match made in heaven 💞

he eventually worked up the courage to ask you out one day and y’all have just been falling more ever since

although, that doesn’t mean yamaguchi’s forgotten one of the main reasons he wanted to be with you in the first place

‘please teach me your ways, (y/n)!’ he pleaded, his head resting on your lap so you had to cover his puppy-eyes with your phone

‘no, tadashi. firstly, you’re sweet and gentle- you’re just built like that. secondly, i don’t have any ‘ways’ to teach you!’

yamaguchi continued to pry, ‘then how are you just so effortlessly self-assured?’

‘who told you that, tadashi?’

‘no one.’ yamaguchi poked the back of your hand to get you to move it, ‘but remember that time one of the guys in our class tried to make fun of the size of your head and you told him to shut up?’

you rolled your eyes, setting your phone aside before placing a brief kiss on yamaguchi’s forehead, ‘he said he couldn’t see the board because of my ‘big head’, tadashi; that’s hardly an insult. also, what else could i have possibly said other than that?’

but then you remembered this is yamaguchi you’re talking to; if that was him, he’d probably apologise, move his head aside then cry in the bathroom or sumn.

‘i should be the one asking you why you’re so insecure. i mean, i know everyone is a little bit insecure about something but you just take it to a whole other level.’ you mused, absentmindedly massaging his scalp

yamaguchi frowned, ‘exactly! teach me how to stop being insecure.’

‘no please, no thank you?’ you inquired with a snicker, realising that your habits might of accidentally rubbed off on him

bc just a few weeks ago, he’d be thanking you for breathing the same air as him but now he didn’t even say ‘please’ when asking for a favour

gasp

‘please teach me how to be resilient, (y/n).’

you chuckled, leaning down to whisper in his ear, ‘okay, since you’re so polite, i’ll tell you my secret - but promise not to tell anybody else!.’

‘i promise.’ yamaguchi replied without hesitation

‘okay, first thing you need to do is go to the depths of hell and find satan hims--’

yamaguchi let out a sigh as he realised that you weren’t being serious then playfully flicked your forehead away, ‘rude.’

you beamed, pressing another kiss upon his forehead, ‘i know~’

Shōyō Hinata

let’s not pretend hinata wasn’t shitting his pants when he first heard about you from kageyama

‘they called me a shitty setter the other day.’

but kageyama failed to mention the part where he cut you in line for lunch 🙄 mans had it coming

like hinata genuinely thought that if he came within a 5 foot radius of you, you’d literally come for volleyball career

plus, hinata knew he had a lot of things to be insults on (mostly, his height) so he decided to keep his distance at first

but when he actually saw you - rather than a vague description that kageyama conjured - he kinda fell head over heels

well, not only bc of your looks - he isn’t that shallow

but the same day, you dropped your purse/wallet on the walk home and ,mhsince hinata was walking behind you, he acted as any good Samaritan would; picked it up then handed it to you

then you said something along the lines of ‘thanks, shorty.’

not shawty. lord- shorty as in short with a y at the end

and whether you meant that as a dig or not was beyond him - but either way, he fkn adored it

also it doesn’t matter whether you are taller or shorter than hinata- he is still short-stuff >:)

by some miracle he managed to ask you out successfully and he’s kinda been glued to you ever since

like he wants to spend every second that he’s not at volleyball club/school with you

and if you tell him he’s being clingy, he’s going to cry-

nonono jk jk

he’d probably be a bit offended but then give you your space

also, you noticed how he was really endeared by the tad mean nicknames you gave him like ‘shorty’, ‘short stuff’ and ‘ginger’

the only ones he didn’t like was ‘boke’ or ‘dumbass’ bc it reminded him too much of kageyama + tsukishima

so you started calling him these things - teasingly - more frequently

and he loves it ngl

as long as you aren’t truly mean to him, he enjoys being called these things by you for some reason

so, his first mistake was assuming that you’d like being called these joking nicknames just as much as he does

you were helping him with english once and it’s definitely not his strong suit

same, hinata

‘look at that! you spelt all your vocabs correctly, for a change.’ you commented, peering over the desk at the paper sitting in front of him

his eyes widened and his lips curled into a hopeful smile, ‘really?!’

‘no.’ you snickered, pointing to the first word on the list. ‘your word was taxis - you wrote ‘texas’, dumbass.’

hinata let out an exasperated sigh, propping his elbow onto the table to rest his cheek on his palm

then, he had an idea ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

‘alright, stupidface, should i rewrite them?’

you gasped, furrowing your brows at what he just called you

for a moment, you thought you might’ve misheard him but upon observing his smug expression, you realised that he really did just call you a ‘stupidface’

so you burst out laughing

obviously, hinata was rather shocked at your reaction

‘hey! what’s so funny?’

‘di- di- did you just call me a ‘stupidface’?!’ you panted in-between cackles, clutching your stomach to soothe the butterflies

hinata jutted out his bottom lip and folding his arms over his chest, ‘yeah, what about it?’

‘that is so cute!- do it again!’ you demanded, enthusiastically slamming your fist against the desk

‘IT’S NOT CUTE!’ hinata barked, playfully flicking your forehead

once you caught your breath, you took hinata’s hands and looked him dead in the eyes, ‘you’re fucking adorable, shōyō.’

the hoarseness of your voice making it sound like somewhat of a threat

‘you’re adorable-er, (y/n).’

‘i know.’

Kōshi Sugawara

he admires how strong and independent you are/seem 😍

and the fact you don’t go out of your way to suck-up to ppl

he kinda wants to be like you in that sense but unlike yamaguchi, he accepts that he’s way too much of a people pleaser for that lol

so he sticks to admiring you from afar

then he musters up the courage to ask you out with some chocolate cupcakes; the same kind that you accidentally got on his blazer on the first day of second year :))

and you say yes (╯▽╰ )

also a big part of your relationship is aggressive positivity ✨😡

like if he makes a joke about looking crusty, you’ll promptly respond, ‘shut up, kōshi - you look so hot.’

or if you berate yourself for getting a poor mark on a test, suga will interrupt with no hesitation, ‘fuck off, (y/n), you’re literally so smart and hard working - you’ll probably get 100% on the next test.’

also when he’s around you he switches between canon and fanon suga rapidly

one second he’s like ‘aww, are you stressed bc of school? i’ll bake you some cookies, baby--’ then you’ll jokingly make a comment about his post-practise B.O and he’ll literally get so defensive

‘WOW I OFFER YOU SOMETHING NICE AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?! STOP BEING SO MEAN TO ME, COMING FOR MY INSECURITES LIKE THAT - I WAS JUST ABOUT TO GO FOR A SHOWER ANYWAY GEEZ’ ┗|｀O′|┛

ISVBFELIAEA plz he is too much ✋

he just prides himself in smelling like ocean breeze 99% of the time so you really didn’t need to hurt his feelings like that when you caught him lackin c’mon LMAO

‘wait so are we making cookies or not?’ you inquired, stifling a snicker at his little diva moment

‘ofc we are 🥺’

he’ll probably use red icing on one of the cookies to draw a ‘>:(’ face then hand it to you, saying that he drew you

he’ll also break of bits of his own cookie and feed it to you’re doing something that requires both hands like typing, homework, dishes etc

whether you eat it from his hand happily, decline his offer or bite his fingers off is really up to you

and over time, he probably picks up on some of your traits too

especially being more straight-forward

the team will never forget the first time he was chatting about something with the vice principle and ‘sorry, but i don’t remember asking’ fell from his lips

everyone was shocked :o

tsukishima, tanaka & noya were so impressed tho

and so were you IVBEAOGVRN

‘wow, suga. you wanna be me so bad.’ you gloated, pressing your hand against your chest

‘GAEIVBSLR leave me alone.’ he growled, toiling over the apology letter he was currently writing to the vice principal

Keiji Akaashi

he wanted you to be the dark academia to his light academia pfft

it was very much love at first sight btw

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ soulmates *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the embodiment of opposites attract

he’d write you a poem/love letter to ask you out lol

‘you’re so sappy and lame, akaashi’ you scoffed in attempt to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your lips as your eyes finally parted from the letter to meet his

he couldn’t help but chuckle, ‘so is that a no?’

‘-nonono!’ you shook your head rapidly, hastily correcting him, ‘it’s a yes.’

phew

honestly, he acted all nonchalant on the outside, but akaashi would’ve been devastated if you rejected him

like he constantly tried to remind himself that you would probably say no, i mean he thought you were way out of his league. plus, it didn’t seem as though you were as much of a romantic as him

but fortunately, apart of him stayed hopeful

now he was cuddled up beside you on a cold winters’ evening, casually drinking is hot cocoa as you both watched a disney movie (❤´艸｀❤)

he’s the type to not even care or retort if you call him stupid or whatever

as long as your context makes it clear that you’re joking

he’d never call you those names back though ✋

to him, you’re always gonna be ‘love’ or ‘sweetheart’

also, he’s probably equally as sarcastic as you so that’s not an issue

ngl he probably gets really insecure when you’re hesitant about PDA tho

like he just wants to hold your hand but he doesn’t want to force it upon you and make you uncomfortable 🥺

but also, perhaps you’re too embarrassed by him to kiss him in public

so please occasionally reassure him that you love him (；′⌒`) that always washes all his worries away

Yū Nishinoya

it’s literally canon that he likes ppl who show 0 interest in him (kiyoko, tsukki etc)

so it shouldn’t be surprising that he’s all over you after that one time you called him a midget

to be fair, he had it coming - he stepped on your fkn toe >:((

he does everything in his power to impress you and get you to take back what you said

‘hey, (y/n)!’ he calls out to you in the middle of the bustling lunch hall, ‘could a midget do this?!’ *backflips off the table*

or when he demanded that you come to one of his volleyball games so you could see what he’s capable of and whenever he makes a good receive, he turns to look at you in the stands and winks/ points

or when he actually studies for a test just so he can flaunt his slightly above average grade to you

‘look, (y/n), i got a 49%!’ he waves a paper in front of your face, which you stare at before lowering your gaze onto your 95%.

but ngl..he really brings out that lil’ bit of sugar in you

‘well done, noya.’ you choked out feeling your dignity slowly fade in your chest

he’s just so enthusiastic and charming how can you be mean to him 🥺

to his face, at least

as soon as he leaves you beef about him to your friends

‘he is so annoyingly bodacious - audacious! why does he feel the need to show me all of his achievements like i care??? and why does he have to be so cute while doing it???’

‘do you think you maybe have a teeny-tiny crush on him?--’

‘never.’

nishinoya probably asks you out pretty casually like ‘lemme take you bowling this saturday and i can show how good i am at that too!’ he offered with a bright, bold smile

‘sure, whatever.’

‘kay! it’s a date!’

‘wut-’ but before you could question him further, he sped off

nishinoya really likes to fluster and tease you

you’ll be sitting waiting for him at the park or whatever and he’ll swagger in and shout something like ‘how’s my gorgeous s/o doing today?! i hope you weren’t waiting for me too long!--’

then you’ll have to quickly shush him before everyone with a 7 feet radius is looking at you judgementally

he also likes to call you the most extra nicknames just to see you blush

‘good morning, my beautiful, divine, radiant god(dess) who i worship every morning of my life!~’ he sung as he waltzed into your classroom to spend lunch with you

but he only does that bc you are so dismissive of his advances lol

like if you openly adored his kisses and nicknames, he’d probably do them sparingly

oh and he calls you ‘my hunny bunny’ too - don’t ask why

Satori Tendō

you gave him your number/snap for a project and he’s one of those ppl that just assumes that y’all are friend now lol

but that wasn’t nessicarily a bad thing bc you thought he was really cool and you were happy that you still got to talk to him even after the project was over

not that you’d ever admit it tho (╹ڡ╹ )

he’d send you cursed memes at 3AM and you’d reply like ‘mood’ then he’d fall for you

you’d also have random, deep convos in the middle of the night

hence he fell for you even harder

especially bc he basically just shared his whole life story with you

he’d spill out all his insecurities to you then you’d reply like ‘ok’ then he knew he had to ask you out bc you’re the first person not to have left him on read

so he asked you to meet him in the park and you’d reply ‘no lol 🖕 ‘

then he’d just smile at his phone like ‘wow, they’re so in love with me’

he’s just so used to his friends being mean to him jokingly that he can’t even tell if you’re being serious or not

so he goes to the park at the time he put forward, and ofc you’re there even though you said no bc you didn’t want tendō to show up for nothing 🥺

he was ecstatic that you were there and he probably brought you an energy drink or lollipop then asked you out

and ofc you said yes

i mean- you had kinda developed a soft spot for the poor guy

you’d let him get away with certain things that others couldn’t around you

for instance, you’d let him borrow your pencils/pens despite usually not allowing others to get ahold of your stuff

but that was just coz like- he’s your trustworthy bf- not some random classmate who had no reason or motive to be kind enough to return your pencils

also, you’d let him cut in front of you in the lunch line and he did the same for you

oh and please bully anyone who makes fun of him 🙏

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mojwisungie · 3 years

Text

hc | boyfriend ♡

req (from: anon) ➥ : read the mark-jaemin boyfriend, and then then renjun-jisung boyfriend headcanons,,, can you do one for the remaining members? thank you~~

☄︎ with: lee jeno, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle ☄︎ lou.note: this has been in my wips for so long im sorry anonie but here i am to give it you guys as an offering for my birthday (its tomorrow on the 26th but anyway) hehe hope you all enjoy <3

ੈ⋆ mark & jaemin ver. | renjun & jisung ver.

Jeno

the observing, supportive boyfriend

jeno doesnt pay much attention to things that arent important

but YOU are important

you mean so much to him, and thats still an understatement

he often thinks that by paying attention to you and everything you do

he'll know you in a way no one else does

at this point, he knows everything about you

your favorite sweater (which he owns), favorite color, favorite artists, favorite songs, etc.

jeno actually knows your order by heart even if it varies in different restaurants

his mantra is actually happy y/n = happy jeno ^_^

thats also the reason why fights dont usually happen

he knows when its too much for you and so he will do what he thinks is best for the situation

anyways: dates with jeno are either doing physical activities or plain cuddling on the couch

it would mostly be him who initiates dates like hiking, biking, etc.

but, he would also always check with you if youre okay with it or if you want to rest

one time you asked him for a day in those sport grounds ?? like those places that has random games like wall-climbing, archery, and trampolines

oh this boy has the biggest smile on his face asking you, “hold on love, are you serious ( ◕▿◕ ) ?”

during hectic weeks, he’s definitely up for movie marathons

if he still has some energy, he will make a blanket fort for the both of you

also jeno lee is a cuddle bug (you cannot change my mind, this case is closed)

and so he’ll use these lazy dates to indulge in hugging you for as long as he can

on the supportive note, he always reassures you with the kindest words

AND hes the type of guy who will ask you if you need comfort or solutions when you rant to him T﹏T

and that is actually proof that he is the best support system

he'd be your hype man when you need a push

thinking of auditioning for a club? go ahead, he'll teach you what he knows

want to try a new hobby and start journaling? he'll help you find cute stickers (and he'll buy them too)

he will always help in whatever way he can, and he will constantly assure you that he’s there for you as you have been for him

he is reserved, quiet, and keep things on the down low, yet with you, he’s entirely different

jeno loves you just as you love him, and he’ll do everything to prove it to the world- you.

Haechan

the enthusiastic, soft boyfriend

he is!! literally!! the sun!!

he often calls you often in the morning to wake you up, greeting you with the loveliest voice saying, “good morning darling, how was your sleep?” SADKJASD

if he’s free, he’ll actually drop by yours to bring breakfast and eat with you

and if ever you still live with your family, you bet that once you slip into the kitchen he’s chatting up with your parents like he’s their son

actually... he technically is

he loves going out with you and your family as much as he loves going out with his

hyuck is very family-oriented, you really dont have to plead to him if you want him to come to a gathering

as long as you say yes to him inviting you to their family activities too 😌

he once asked you to go with him to this intimate family dinner his relatives organized

and you ask him, “are you sure im allowed to go? the invitation in the email complete says Lee Family and clearly.. im not-”

this man didnt even let you finish and says, “BUT YOU WILL BE!! SOON!! I WILL MARRY YOU!! baby come on just please come with me!!!”

he means it though

you dont know it, but the thought of spending the rest of his life with you often comes into his mind

and so dates with him can be both ends of the spectrum

you guys could go for fancy restaurants, amusement parks, and even late night computer games (if you dont play, he’ll teach you dont worry <3)

but there are also domestic dates such as grocery shopping, helping each other babysit nephews/nieces, and the such

its obvious to every one that haechan is so soft for you

and he doesnt care what other people say

one time, mark heard him talk to you in the cutest, softest voice and laughed... and regretted it bc haechan turned to him in the most serious face and the deepest tone saying, “and so?”

as much as possible, he wants you to feel loved bc thats what you make him feel

despite this, arguments are still there, but it doesnt go on for long

fights dont escalate as you both work together against the problem

so at the end of the day, no feelings are hurt or turned a blind eye to

disagreements are often rooted from the nature of work though, thats why every time things arent so fine, he’ll do his best to fix it

because he treasures his time with you and the love you both invest in

he didnt value time that much before, bc he’s so used to putting up with whatever that comes his way

but when you came into his life, he realized it is indeed precious

haechan spends every second loving you beyond infinity

Chenle

the parental, sincere, affectionate boyfriend

you’ve seen him rant, right?

he’ll do that often, but only when its about you not getting what you need

others may not see it, but he’s really concerned when its about you so he’ll do anything to make sure youre well taken care of

if you havent eaten yet bc youre too busy going over your notes for your exams, he’ll buy you your favorite food and feed it to you

all the while talking about how you shouldnt put aside eating bc its important to eat meals at the right time

this guy solves old math problems when he has time to spare, so he’ll be okay with you coming to for help whenever you struggle with your lessons

as cliché as it may be, he will also get you the stuff you need- whether it may be for school or for your personal shenanigans

you complained about your laptop once, saying it keeps on lagging

he deadass goes, ��do you wanna go and buy a new one now?” 💀

he just wants you to do well in the stuff you do, okay ??

chenle is blunt about pretty much everything in your relationship too

he tells you all the stuff he knows he should tell you

including embarrassing moments of his members

the dreamies cant joke around with you too much,, bc they know you know everything (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

but jokes aside, sometimes his honesty can be cause of some arguments

bc he gets too straight-forward at times and ends up unintentionally hurting you :((

and when you explain why it made you feel that way, he’s lost bc he thinks he was just saying the truth

but as time passes, he will learn how to be upfront with you without having to sadden you

please be patient with him as he is with you 👉🏼👈🏼

anyhow, dates with him would always be one for the books

if you ever think that he probably doesnt remember the dates you wanna go on to, youre wrong

bc its all listed in his mind and he’s determined to tick every single one from the list

when he’s busy or away on tour, facetimes would be a regular thing

he’s prepared with the timezones and he will remind you to sleep when you should, no buts y/n

if you tell him you cant just drift off, he’ll always offer to sing you to sleep

and when you do, he’ll take lots of pictures to treasure the little moments he has with you

some people tell him he looks too deeply in love

but he doesnt really see anything wrong with it because it was with you

chenle completely knows that he loves you so much, and he’s willing to love you until forever

139 notes · View notes

heavyweightheart · 3 years

Note

hey, do you have advice on a good way to figure out if you're undereating without trying to calorie count through like myfitnesspal or something that's going to be all gross about it? I have a really hard time motivating myself to eat so I strongly suspect that I'm undereating but I don't... know

i love that you called myfitnesspal “gross” lol! true. it’s hard to give specific advice on this without knowing your full situation and history, but there is one thing i can say w assurance: if you think you’re undereating, you’re almost definitely undereating. maybe the unscientific term i made up, “food dysmorphia,” can help you here. ;) for so many reasons, but mainly bc we have all been made so anxious about eating too much, we tend to perceive ourselves as eating more than we actually are. i’m gonna assume you don’t have clear and reliable hunger and fullness cues (if you do, follow them!). some ppl really can reclaim calorie counting for anti-restriction purposes, to make sure they’re getting enough. i did that, actually, since i was already an encyclopedia of nutrition facts, and then i easily stopped when i transitioned to more intuitive eating. it’s important to count very roughly, and to round down, bc food dysmorphia can show up here as well. count to a calorie minimum and eat beyond it if you want to! not everyone can deal in calories, though, so there are apps that are recovery-oriented. recovery record is the one i’m most familiar with (it’s problematic, but you can tailor it to your purposes). it will help you stay on a meal plan or eating schedule. if you ever have access to a clinician, they can connect to your account if you want support or accountability. you can also do a meal plan or meal schedule on your own. say you’re committing to eating 3 meals and 3 snacks per day. you can set alarms on your phone to remind you. you can text a friend when you’ve done one, or report at the end of the day. maybe keep a diary. and, watch what “normal” eaters (this is a fraught idea, i know!) eat. it can be so helpful to see other people’s plates to get a sense of what a typical amount of food is to eat as a meal, or a snack. if you had access to eating disorder treatment, you’d be eating heaping plates of food, often calorie-dense. no dainty influencer aesthetic plates--we’re fueling human bodies here. whatever method you choose or can access, i’m really glad you’re addressing your undereating! you may find that as you meet your body’s energy needs, you feel better in general and it takes on a momentum of its own. x

#chthonicrose

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angstymarauder · 3 years

Text

Arch Enemies {M.M}

Marlene McKinnon x Female!reader ; marauders era

summary: where two long-time rivals realize how thin the line between love and hate really are after an unfortunate quidditch incident.

word count: 3.4k ish

contains: angst, fluff, a heated kiss?, side of wolfstar,

a/n: i didn’t re-read it bc I'm lazy. Also if people could drop some wlw angsty harry potter recs that would be phenomenal.

· · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · ·

Marlene McKinnon has been your rival since as far back in your Hogwarts years as you can remember. Always at each other’s heads. Always a competition between the two of you. Always striving to be better than the other.

The two of you made just about everything a competition. Chess Matches. Pranking. Grades. Eating. Walking. Detentions (you almost got kicked out of Hogwarts that year.)

Anything that could somehow be made competitive, you two competed. And while you tended to beat her with grades, she often beat you in things that took place outside of the classroom.

The Marauders, apparently, have been placing bets and keeping track of your wins against one another. Lily even claims that one time she walked into their room unexpectedly and caught them writing on a poster on their wall that had both your names in big letters on each side and a series of tallies below each with dates and event names on the bottom, but as soon as they saw her one of them casted a spell to make it disappear.

This year was no different. You knew it was stupid to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to try out for the quidditch team without Marlene fighting you for the same spot. You have no real desire to be on the quidditch team, quite honestly, but your older siblings play quidditch, your parents played quidditch, your aunts, your uncles, your cousins, your grandparents, your great-grandparents.

You have a quidditch family and you do not want to can not disappoint them.

The hope that Marlene may leave you alone for this one was shattered, as you expected it to be, when you walk into the team's locker room, a bag of quidditch gear in your hand. “Y/L” Marlene spoke as soon as her eyes met yours. Her eyes widened more than usual, a change most people don’t notice, but then again, you’re not most people. You know Marlene better than anyone else, you’ve memorized the meaning of every look in her eyes, every curve of her lips, every flick of her hands. You know her brain, how she works, what she is thinking, for the most part at least because right now you found yourself momentarily confused by the surprise lacing her voice. Why is she so surprised? Did she not expect you to be there? Your thoughts are cut short when the blonde standing at the other side of the room clears her throat in an attempt to reactive her favorite tone of voice when speaking to you, cockiness, “you going for the beater position too?”

“Yea,” you respond, walking over to one of the lockers.

“May the best player win,” you continued unpacking your bag, putting on the final touches to your uniform, but you didn’t need to look at her to know that she was smirking as she spoke, you could hear it clear enough in her voice.

She awaited a snarky response from you, you know that, but you didn’t want to waste your energy on a catfight right now. Your anxiety is already through the roof, there is enough pressure on you at the moment that you feel like your brain physically cannot handle any more conflict, so you ignore her.

Her eyes burn holes into your body as you continue to pull your knee pads on. Eventually, the door opens and you listen to her steps as she walks out of the locker room, closing the door with a slam and leaving you all alone.

It’s not long before you’re 100% ready for tryouts. You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror for a moment before leaving. Taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm your nerves. Calm your mind. It helps a little bit, but maybe not enough.

· · · ∞ · · ·

“Y/L! Watch out!” is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

The tryouts were going great, James was the captain this year and after stealing a glance at his little sheet, you could tell that you were going to beat Marlene out for this spot.

You should’ve been happier with that knowledge than you were, but somewhere deep down you almost wanted Marlene to beat you. This wasn't what you wanted and by the look in her eyes, you knew that this was what she wanted. A strange feeling arose in your chest each time she looked at you during tryouts, her eyes conveyed a message you hadn’t seen her wear yet and all you wanted to do was decode it. To understand why her eyes looked… sad? Almost. Like she knew you were going to beat her and she was upset about it. She’s never been upset before, always a team player. She took her losses as they came and just vowed to beat you next time. But for some reason… for some reason this was different.

· · · ∞ · · ·

Marlene’s Pov:

You looked so pretty. Flyaway hairs and a look of determination on your face as you swatted away Bludgers so effortlessly. She loved quidditch, but she wasn't as good as you. Jealous, not because you’ll win whatever competition the two of you are probably making out of this, but jealous because she knows she won’t get the position she’s been working her ass off for. Lost in thought she doesn't even notice the bludger coming towards her, luckily she hits it just in time, but then… Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Marlene watched as the bludger tumbled straight towards you, “Y/L! Watch out,” was all she could get in before it hit you right in the head.

· · · ∞ · · ·

The first thing you felt when you woke up was an intense pounding in your skill that caused an unconscious groan to leave your mouth. As you increasingly became aware your head began hurting more and more. You went to bring your hand up to rub your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up when you felt another hand on yours. Opening your eyes only increased your headache, but the desire to know whose hand was holding yours overruled the pain. Their hand was soft, warm, it felt like … like home. That's the only word you could find in this pain-forsaken state to properly describe the feeling.

The blur of a person who held your hand made you think you were crazy. You found yourself blinking a few times in attempts to clear your vision, not initially trusting your eyes and barely trusting them now as you see Marlene McKinnon's hand, holding yours.

Marlene McKinnon.

Your arch-nemesis?

The one who practically hates you?

Yea… her.

What the fuck.

Why is she holding your hand… and why do you never want her to let go?

You can feel your lips curve up into an unconscious smile as you stare at the place where her hand connects with yours before roaming your eyes up to her figure to her sleeping face being held up by her other hand, elbow resting on her armchair next to your bed. She looks so peaceful, so beautiful, and you wonder why you’ve never noticed how gorgeous she was before. How her lips look so soft and her skin so smooth. The way the waning gibbous moonlight shines into the room from the large infirmary windows and lights her face up in a way you’ve never seen in before and in that moment you want nothing more than to stare at her face like that forever. You don’t even notice your other hand moving up to touch her face until you hear a voice whisper from a few beds over from yours. “Oh, you’re up.” Startled, you feel like you were just caught committing a crime and immediately pull your hand back to where it was before. Marlene shifts in her sleep from your quick movements and you’re watching this moment slip through your fingers, silently begging whatever runs the universe to let you stay in this moment just a little bit longer. Thankfully, they answer and Marlene stills, returning to her peaceful sleep. “Don’t worry, Lils says she sleeps like a log.”

You giggle at these words, turning to face Remus with a smile, “yea, she does. We can never get her up in the morning.” “It’s the same with Sirius. He never wants to wake up.” The two of you giggle quietly, afraid to wake up anyone in the castle this late at night, especially the girl sitting beside you. You talk about Remus first, asking if the full moon the night before was really that bad that Pomfrey made him stay overnight again and if he's okay. He assures you that he is fine and redirects the conversation to you, “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I don’t even know what happened to me,” you tell him, “or why my head hurts so much or why M-” you pause, now looking at the girl. You’re scared of speaking the words out loud, afraid it may reveal that her presence is only a dream or a figment of your imagination and that you will sound crazy if you speak about it.

“Or why Marlene is here, holding your hand.” Remus finishes your sentence.

“Or that.” you turn your gaze back to Remus, now wishing the moon was a little darker so your close friend can’t see the blush that is surely on your face.

“Well to answer your first questions,” started Remus, “You got hit with a bludger during tryouts, Marlene and Sirius rushed u in here while I was taking a nap - thanks for that by the way”

“Sorry” you giggled

“- and then Sirius went back to practice, as for McKinnon there, she refused to leave. I think she feels bad cause she's the one that hit you. Pomfrey said you probably have a concussion which means you can’t … well you can’t play quidditch this year.” You should be focusing on the quidditch part, it was something you were working so hard for, but you can’t stop your mind from trailing off to her. Is she only here because she feels bad? Or is there more to it? You hope it's more. You’re not sure when these feelings came to fruition, but they’re there now and you’re worried about getting your hopes up because it means risking yourself getting let down.

“I think she likes you,” you take a minute to process the werewolves' words, glancing between the blonde’s head and her hand.

“You think so?” you say with a hopeful smile.

“I think she’s liked you since first year and you’re just too oblivious to realize it,” you look up with him, your confused face causing a slight chuckle to leave his lips, “I’m observant, you know that but it's not that difficult to see how in love you two are, even though you act like you hate each other. I think she knows what she feels,” you both glanced at the girl, “and I think you just figured out what you feel.”

You smile at his words. “I think you’re right,” you admit, too tired to be stubborn and reject what your heart says is a fact.

“Just wait till January to tell everyone please, I have a bet going with the boys and- “ Suddenly the door to the infirmary opens, Remus goes quiet with confusion and Marlen begins to stir from the noise. She’s really waking up this time, you immediately close your eyes, unsure of what else to do or even say to her. You can feel her eyes on your face, her hand holding yours. “Good morning sleepyhead,” remarked Remus. You curse out his name in your head as you feel Marlene’s hand immediately rip out of yours. All you want to do is look at her face, read her mind. Was she embarrassed? Ashamed? Your mind went to the worst.

“How’s the girlfriend?” marked a new voice, Sirius. Of course. Who else would come to the infirmary this late other than Sirius to check up on Remus?

“She’s not my girlfriend.” remarked Marlene, her tone sending a brief stab of pain through your own heart, “I don’t even like her,” another stab.

“Yea, okay, and Moonys not my werewolf boyfriend.” You would’ve laughed, hearing the noises of Remus hitting Sirius in response to his words, but your mind was stuck on the words of the girl who was still standing close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off her body.

“I don’t like her,” she said, her words laced with annoyance and anger, “In fact, I hate her. We’re literally enemies.”

“Then why are you here then?” Remus rebutted, he probably meant to be helpful, but the words she spoke next only made your heart ache more.

“Because I’m not a monster! I hit her with the bludger and I felt bad. That’s it. Nothing else.” you were almost thankful when you started to hear her moving around, collecting her stuff, tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes and you didn’t want her to see. “I’m tired so I’m going, goodbye.” And with that you waited, listening to the sounds of her footsteps, getting quieter with each moment. You listened to the opening and closing of the infirmary door and only dared to open your eyes again once you could no longer hear the clicking of her shoes down the hallway.

“You okay?” Remus spoke first, witnessing the silent tears now streaming down your face. You wish you stayed asleep. You wish you never looked at her. Never let yourself feel something you knew she wouldn’t reciprocate. You curse yourself for believing Remus’ hopeful words.

“Fine,” you spoke quietly before turning to your side, the back facing the two boys who get to share the kind of romance you find yourself only able to dream about.

“M’Sorry,” you heard Remus whisper, before the weight of your head and your heart lulled you into a dreamless sleep.

· · · ∞ · · ·

You woke up to Madam Pomfrey's voice urging you awake. Her soft voice reminded you of your mother and made you want to curl up into her arms and cry, Marlene's words last night still resting their weight on your chest. “How are you this morning, love?” she asks, placing a plate of food on the bedside table, you're thankful that she doesn't mention the tear stains that probably made their home on your cheeks last night.

“M’fine,” you mumble, “better.”

“Good, good,” she smiles, handing you a glass of water that you didn’t realize how much you needed until the whole glass was gone in a minute and Madam Pomfrey had to fetch you a new one. “Took a big hit yesterday, that Miss McKinnon has a good arm.” You hum in agreeance, an attempt to not be rude to the elder in front of you, but hearing her name still hurts, the wound of her words still leaving scars on your heart that haven’t even begun to scab. “Speaking of the devil,” the nurse spoke, your head raising up to see Marlene's figure entering the curtain that surrounded your bed. Her hair looked so soft, messier than you usually see it, but you liked it. You couldn’t stop your eyes from travelling down her face, taking in her beauty while she was awake. Bags plagued her beautiful brown eyes, she didn't sleep much last night. Your gaze moved to her lips, the same lips that unknowingly cut scars along your heart mere hours ago. Memories from the night before that you had allowed yourself to forget for a moment returned as fast as they left, returning the heartache that accompanies them. Suddenly, you found the hem of your shirt more interesting, keeping your gaze and your hands on that. “I’ll leave you two alone,” spoke Madam Pomfrey, ignoring the tension-filled silence that laid in the air, “I’d like to keep you here for a little while longer but you should be discharged by dinner,” and with that she left the two of you alone, your breaking heart not even strong enough to look at her.

“Hey,” she spoke first, breaking the silence, but not moving from her spot where she stood at the end of your bed. “Sorry I hit you with a bludger,” she tried to joke, but the tension was too thick that it was just awkward.

“Why are you here?” you ask, a sudden surge of bravery coming from the anger that stems from your sadness.

“Wh-What?”

“Why are you here?” “Because I feel bad? Because I'm not a total bitch and I care about you?” she remarks.

“Why do you care?” your voice grows louder, angrier than you want it, but you’re too stubborn to stop speaking now. “I can’t play anymore, you got the spot on the team, didn’t you? “I mean you said it yourself we’re enemies, right? You hate me?” you continue, repeating her words from last night. “So isn’t this what you wanted? You won. You beat me. Congratulations.”

“So you were eavesdropping?” she asks, her tone attempting to stay angry, but her eyes revealing that look you’re slowly seeing more and more often.

“It’s not eavesdropping if I’m lying right there.”

“Merlin, y/n, I don’t hate you!”

“Liar.”

“You’re so stubborn,” she yells, getting closer to your face.

“If you don’t hate me then why would you say it?” You sat up, both your voices were raising, anger surging through the air.

“Because I don’t hate you! I love you,” she yelled, and then everything went quiet. She loves me? Only now did you realize how close your faces were. Her lips were inches from yours, your ragged breaths intermingled with one another, both of you already exhausted from your previous argument. You looked up from her lips to her eyes, just to find them already staring into yours.

“You what?” you whispered so low that only she could hear it.

“ I-” her eyes were filled with fear. Fear that her feelings won’t be reciprocated. Fear to express the vulnerable emotion that has plagued her heart for how long? You don’t know. So you move forward and capture her lips in yours.

After the initial surprise, Marlene began to kiss you back, her hands finding the back of your neck and your head while yours found her hips. You broke apart too soon for your liking and she rested her forehead on yours. One of your hands moved to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear before speaking. “I love you too.” You watched as her eyes lit up with joy and you couldn’t help but smile. “I get a point on the leaderboard for admitting it first,” she chuckled.

“Mmhm,” you hummed in agreeance leaning forward again so your lips brushed against hers as you spoke, “but I get one for kissing you first.”

“Dammit,” she whispered, before leaning in for another kiss.

· · · ∞ · · ·

“So Gryffindor Beater, huh?” you asked Marlene. The two of you laid together in the infirmary bed, her back pressed up against half of your chest, your arm hanging around her shoulder twirling and untwirling her hair with your one hand while both her hands played with the fingers of your other.

“Yea, James said it’s mine if I want it, but I don’t need to take it if you don’t want me to.”

“No, merlin no,” you said quickly, “I know how much you want that spot, I barely even wanted it. Was only doing it because with my family I felt like I had to.”

“Really?” She looked up at you hopefully, “you don't mind.”

“Nope.” “Promise?”

“Promise.” She gave her a peck on the lips before turning her head around again. “Plus, you’re going to look so hot in that uniform, I feel like I’ll be the real winner in this situation.” Your words earn a loud laugh from the girl in your arms and you feel like you're on cloud 9. You place a quick kiss on her temple and want nothing more than to be the one to make her laugh for the rest of your lives. Lives that you hopefully get to spend together.

Meanwhile…

“Told you so,” he whispered.

“I should’ve kept my mouth shut,” the second boy groaned, placing coins into the other boy's outstretched hand.

“Yea, but look how cute they are, Moony the Matchmaker.”

“Oh shut up Padfoot,” he groaned, “I’m hungry, let's go to dinner.” “Whatever you say handsome,” barked the boy before looping arms with his lover and walking away from the two girls in the infirmary who looked utterly and completely infatuated with one another.

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h2bakugou · 4 years

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Hello :) I really like your work and I was wondering if you could write about mha Shoto, Katsuki and Izuku having a girlfriend whos a badass while fighting but who's also bff with denki because they can act dumb together and are huuuuge weeb? (Also if you don't mind I would love to see denki's reaction to his gf being badass but also as crazy as him bc my pikachu deserves all the love) ? I hope it makes sense x)

a/n: hey love! awe thank you so much! this request is really cute, kaminari is such a sweetheart and i love him so much omg. thank you for the request hun!

headcanon: them with a s/o who is badass when they fight but also denki’s crazy bff

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

Shoto probably doesn’t understand how you can go from being super badass to somehow short-circuiting yourself when hanging out with Kaminari.

If you don’t have an electricity-related quirk, he’s super confused, like how does that happen?

If you do happen to have an electricity-related quirk, he’s also confused because you aren’t even using it. Just being with Kaminari the two of you goof off enough to go all wheheyyyyy.

Todoroki enjoys watching you fight. You don’t take shit from anyone. Period.

Watching you take down bad guys is like a guilty pleasure past-time of Todoroki’s. You’re so skilled, and there’s so much he could learn from you in terms of combat.

You’ve done your training and you’ve learned and studied on your own alongside all your peers.

But as soon as you step off the battlefield, you’re somehow another person. Or at least you seem to be another person.

If there’s one thing you never stop hearing in the common rooms, it’s your laughter and Kaminari’s wheezing.

Todoroki is concerned when he hears it late at night, especially when you’re supposed to be asleep, and even more so when you’re trying to be quiet so you don’t wake anyone up.

“(Y/n). You should be resting, it’s late.”

“I know, I know!” You shush Kaminari who is rolling on the ground beside you, trying to stop the tears induced by laughter falling from his eyes.

“Kaminari just whipped out his Beyblades and challenged me. I beat him. 18 times.” You were losing your shit.

“It’s almost one am.”

“Okay okay, Kaminari, I’ll beat you again tomorrow.” You stand and walk back to your dorm with Todoroki, sad to say goodnight to your best friend.

I don’t feel like Todoroki would get jealous because I think he genuinely understands that you and Kaminari are friends.

Kaminari also respects that you and Todoroki are in a relationship and has stopped hitting on you.

But he jokingly states that if you and Todoroki are to break up he might not be able to hold back.

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

Bakugou is jealous 100%

“Stop paying attention to that loser!” Bakugou will hug you and drag you back to your dorm at one am to get you to go to bed all because you’re having fun with Denki.

He doesn’t understand how you can change from being a badass to a quote on quote ‘dunceface idiot’ like Kaminari.

He loves you a lot and loves seeing you in action. It’s mesmerizing to see you take down bad guys and be all tough.

You’re a tough cookie and Bakugou enjoys watching you intimidate all the villains.

But watching you goof off with Kaminari strikes a nerve in him.

You joke around with Bakugou, but there’s something about joking off with a best friend that is different than with your romantic partner.

You decided that your library of fart jokes was probably a little inappropriate for Bakugou’s ears, not that the curses came out of his mouth were all appropriate in the first place.

No one understands your jokes quite like Kaminari. He’s the one you're getting scolded with at four am for being too loud by Mr. Aizawa.

But who else was going to laugh at you trying to knit Bakugou a sweater and failing horribly?

“What is that supposed to be?”

“Bakugou!”

“That just looks like an angry porcupine!”

“Isn’t that what Bakugou is?”

Kaminari has officially lost it.

You and Kaminari have begun writing down every single roast the other drops to use later on and it’s even better when you both pull the same line in your little roast battles.

Everyone is silent and then you both just burst out into laughter.

Bakugou gets over his jealousy after Kaminari has a somewhat serious talk with him.

“(Y/n) wanted me to talk to you.” Kaminari starts, and Bakugou is already frustrated, is this how you tell him it’s over?

“I don’t see her romantically at all. I know you two are together, and as her best friend, I respect that. I know you’ll treat her well, so I expect you too. That’s my best friend you’re dating after all.”

Bakugou is speechless. For the first time, Denki Kaminari has said something that he understood.

“Did she tell you to say that? Did she write that down for you to say?” Bakugou is on edge.

“No! I came up with it myself because it’s the truth. She was just worried you were getting angry with her for hanging out with me so much.”

Bakugou cools down and eventually heads back to hang out with you.

Bakugou’s loud and obnoxious, so for the sake of you he tries to understand your humor, but sometimes you have to help him out.

It’s all in good fun though.

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-««

Izuku is probably super confused at first too.

He tries his hand at humor so he understands some jokes, and he himself can go from being all cute and adorable to fucking badass.

But when it comes to someone else, he’s a little lost.

Especially when that someone is his own girlfriend.

You’ve gone from tearing shit up on the battlefield to wheezing over a meme that is just a picture that says ‘top text bottom text.’

He surely doesn’t understand.

I feel like Izuku might get a little jealous at first. He’s unsure of why you’re always spending lots of time with Denki and having a good time.

“Izuku he’s just my friend.”

“But you never laugh like that with me.”

It’s an eye-opener.

Izuku is jealous of how you're happy around Denki.

You try your best to explain to Deku but you might need a bit of help from Kaminari.

Kaminari assures Deku that nothing is going on between the two of you and that you’re just his best friend.

“I promise you, she’s just my best friend, I respect the boundaries of your relationship.” Kaminari has a bright smile on his face while you hug Izuku.

“Thank you for telling me this.” Izuku feels better about the situation but still worries sometimes.

You begin to include Izuku some, but he may not understand your humor sometimes so you’ll have to explain it to him.

Overall, Izuku is happy to see you happy. You learn to balance your time for both your friends and Izuku.

Izuku still doesn’t quite grasp how you can be such a badass at times then lose your mind with Kaminari at two am for making a pizza with ketchup instead of pizza sauce.

“Isn’t ketchup essentially tomato sauce?” Kaminari examines the ingredients list.

“I think it has vinegar in it. It’s gonna taste weird.”

“Well I can’t find the pizza sauce.”

“Ketchup it is then.” You take the bottle and squeeze it out over the dough. Kaminari helps add the cheese and any other toppings.

Deku is concerned.

“I don’t think that’s going to taste very good.” He’s tired too but insisted on staying up with you so he could bring you to bed after you eat.

And Deku's right.

It tasted horrible.

But at least he was able to walk you back to your room and tuck you in after that terrible experience.

»»————-　★　————-««

denki kaminari

»»————-　★　————-««

The duality that y’all have. This relationship is POWERFUL.

Badass gf on the battlefield but goofy as shit when it comes to hanging out together?

Kaminari couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

Watching you in action feels like a fucking movie. He’s drawn in constantly, admiring you every chance he gets.

Watching you fight, hell even watching you train is amazing. You’re incredibly skilled and your training pays off immensely.

Kaminari would like to say that training with you is amazing too, but the two of you can barely compose yourselves for that long.

You’re almost always laughing on the ground at like the one hour mark.

You can look at each other and just burst into laughter.

As much as I kind of hate the whole ‘marry your best friend’ saying, this relationship radiates that energy. You guys are endgame.

Kaminari couldn’t think of another person to share the love he has for you, let alone the plethora of jokes, puns, and roasts the two of you can make up on the spot.

Kaminari doesn’t want to imagine a world without you. And you couldn’t fathom being in one without him.

You guys are bound together, and are almost never apart for too long.

Granted you guys do have your days and you do make time for yourselves as any healthy relationship needs its boundaries.

You guys have shirts with memes on them, or phrases that you say constantly.

MATCHING PIKACHU ONESIES

You’re constantly yelled out for being too loud in the middle of the night, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kirishima, Mina, and Sero finding you guys sound asleep cuddling on the common room couch because y’all just passed out after goofing off for so long is a common occurrence.

If you have another best friend, I don’t feel like Kaminari would get crazy jealous because you only ever act like a goofy dumbass around him, and you’re crazy for him so he’s not too worried.

Might ask you about it but you’re in love with Kaminari’s dumbass and only his dumbass.

Who else are you going to watch cooking videos with a one am and try and recreate them on the spot?

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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