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thighs-of-betrayal-blog · 3 years

Note

hi, this is about the part 2 to stakeout company. maybe when they get home, they kinda don't talk about it but are very affectionate with each other, like maybe they cuddle on the couch in the common room or hold hands and stuff and the team notices and maybe sam gets enough of it and asks what's going on between them but they look at each other and are like, 'we dont know, we haven't really talked about it' and maybe bucky says 'but im pretty sure we're together' and then sam freaks out and leaves and then reader teases bucky about it and they kiss?

i dont know, maybe its a shitty idea but its an idea nonetheless and dont do it if you dont want to

much love x

Time to Talk

Part 2 to "Stakeout Company"

A/N: This could never be a shitty idea! It’s amazing and I’m so happy you sent it in!! Thank you so much, love! :)

I hope you all enjoy and as always, any feedback is appreciated!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader

Warnings: angst/fluff, violence, weapons

Part 1

The past week has been… interesting, to say the least. After Bucky’s affectionate cuddling session with you during your stakeout, the two of you have been acting like a couple. Funny thing is though, you’re not. You haven’t even discussed what went down during the mission. There’s unspoken words between you and you both know it. You’re just living in blissful avoidance.

Bucky’s never been great at expressing his feelings and you, well you are supposed to hate him. That’s what everyone else thinks anyway. You feel like it’s easier to keep up the façade then explain it to everyone, but unknown to you, some have already noticed.

It’s a Thursday afternoon and after a long, morning training, you and Bucky are sitting on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna be so fucking sore,” you groan.

Bucky rests his hand on your thigh. “Maybe I can-”

“Maybe you can what?”

The two of you jump apart at the sound of Sam’s voice as he sits down on the chair across from you, staring at you expectantly.

Your hand is resting over your heart as it beats erratically in your chest. “Sam! You scared me. I didn’t know you were standing there.”

“I bet you didn’t. Otherwise, I’m sure you two wouldn’t have been acting the way you just were.”

Bucky sighs. “Look, Sam, we can explain.”

“Can you? I thought you two hated each other and now, you’re all cuddly and shit. I’m confused. The whole team’s confused. Hell, even you two look confused.”

You look over at Bucky. “Well, we haven’t really talked about it.”

Bucky looks back at you and nods. “Yeah, we haven’t.” A grin appears on his face. “But, I wouldn’t mind if we were official.”

All the feelings you’ve been recently suppressing come sliding up your body, ready to slip out at any moment. You fight to keep them down, not wanting to scare Bucky away with how much you actually care for him.

“I’ve gotta go.” Standing up, you give Bucky one last glance before rushing towards the elevator, your heart breaking with each step.

---

You realized the next day that you crushed Bucky’s heart. He avoided you at all costs, refusing to even look at you.

Now, a week later, you’re on a mission and of course, you’ve been paired up with him.

As the two of you walk through the building, it’s dead silent, neither of you daring to speak. You want to apologize, tell him you were just scared, but the looks he’s giving you makes you think you should just keep quiet.

“Y/N, Buck. You guys almost in the lab?” Sam asks over the comms.

You steal a glance at Bucky and sigh. “Yeah, right down the hallway. I’ll let you know when we’re in.”

When you enter the lab, you split up, the both of you heading in opposite directions to download data from the computer systems.

It’s now that you decide it’s a good time to talk. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

Bucky groans. “Seriously, Y/N? You wanna have this talk now?”

Sticking your flash drive into the computer, you click to start the transfer process. “Why not now? We’re alone.”

“Are you really though?”

Quickly turning around, you face off with three guards. “Shit. I was really hoping to have a breakthrough with the man I have feelings for, guys. Is that too much to ask for?”

Bucky’s head whips to the side. “You have feelings for me?”

One of the guards chuckles. “This is cute and all, but you’re not leaving with that flash drive.”

You look down at the drive in your hand. “Oh, right.” You smirk. “Guess you’ll have to come and get it.”

One of the guards rushes you and you jump to the side, pocketing the flash drive into your boot before fishing around in your belt for your knives. When you come up empty handed, you want to kick yourself. You forgot them. You actually forgot to bring your knives to a mission.

“Fuck me,” you groan out loud.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asks from across the room, in the middle of dodging a punch from one of the guards.

You kick your leg into a guard’s chest. “Forgot my knives!”

In an instant, a knife slides your way. “Take one of mine!”

Picking up the knife, you send a quick grin in Bucky’s direction. “God, I like you so much.”

Bucky grunts and continues dodging punches. “Why’d you run off like that then?”

You slash the knife at the guard in front of you, narrowly missing his chest by a few inches. “I was scared! It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone romantically and you make me feel things I’ve never felt before!”

The guard kicks out at you and you flip onto the floor, slicing your knife into his ankle. He groans as his step falters.

“You don’t ever have to be scared with me, doll! I’ll always protect you!”

As the guard is focused on his ankle, you climb up to his neck, wrapping your thighs tightly around his throat. “I know you would! I’m just an idiot!”

You use all your strength to knock the guard over, falling onto your back hard. You groan, but continue to choke him until he passes out. Once he does, you’re back on your feet, heading towards Bucky and the two other guards.

Bucky gives you a quick smile. “You’re my idiot.”

You smile to yourself as you lunge at one of the guards, throwing your hand out to punch him in the throat. “Did you hear that?” You question the guard. “I’m his idiot. How sweet.”

Bucky lets out a deep chuckle as he knocks the guard he’s fighting in the head with the blunt of his knife. The guard falls down in a heap, landing right at Bucky’s feet.

When he turns to look at you and the guard you’re fighting, he swipes the sweat off his forehead. “Let’s hurry this up so I can kiss you already.”

“Sounds good to me!”

The two of you swarm the last guard together. Bucky grabs his waist, while you swing your leg in the air, kicking him square in the head. Bucky ducks before your foot connects with the guard’s head, sending him into the wall next to you.

When you look at Bucky, he’s already staring at you. “Is this what we’ll be doing now as a couple? Fighting together? Because it’s kinda hot.”

You smack his arm. “You’re insatiable.”

Grabbing your arms, he pulls you towards him. “Only for you, doll.” He grabs your chin, tilting your head up to his. “Now about that kiss-”

His lips press against yours, claiming your mouth. “Worth the wait,” he groans into the kiss.

You chuckle before kissing him harder, biting down on his lower lip.

Bucky grips your waist. “The things I’m gonna do to-”

“We can hear you, ya know!” Sam yells in the ear comms, disgust laced in his voice.

Laughing, the two of you separate while grabbing your comms in sync and throwing them onto the ground.

“That solves that problem,” Bucky laughs before pressing his lips back onto yours.

It sure does, you think to yourself, getting lost in the feel of him against you. It sure does.

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teklarn · 3 years

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.

genre: a lil bit angsty

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - -

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought.

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back.

jealousy panged in his chest.

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to.

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there.

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter?

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help.

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first.

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it.

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something?

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time.

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one.

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet.

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp.

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child.

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it.

perhaps you were being cocky.

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him.

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted.

it was interesting for another reason.

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest.

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown.

“don’t get distracted.”

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down.

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight.

he panted atop you, hands tightening.

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima.

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in.

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets.

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed.

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck.

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?”

“you heard me.”

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more.

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood.

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.”

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?”

“you’re strong, damn idiot.”

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.”

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight.

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway.

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered.

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him.

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?”

“you’re creepy as shit.”

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-”

“while you peeped in on y/n?”

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.”

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man.

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.”

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.”

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.”

“fine?”

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?”

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped.

“you train with me.”

“it’s an hour before curfew.”

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked.

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle.

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass.

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays.

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend.

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff.

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one.

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly.

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched.

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission.

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack.

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side.

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars.

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright.

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?”

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to.

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.”

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue.

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help.

“we should head back before this gets any worse.”

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out.

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself.

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt.

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat.

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?”

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.”

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you.

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?”

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed.

“dude, i’m really sorry—”

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.”

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.”

“your nose is broken,” you said gently.

“so? can’t you fix it?”

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?”

“can you or can you not?”

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―”

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.”

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm.

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though.

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luxekook · 4 years

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ego | jjk | harry potter au

⇥ pairing: gryffindor jeongukk x hufflepuff reader

⇥ genre: harry potter AU, smut, fluff, angst

⇥ summary: in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

⇥ warnings: 18+, dirty talk, light smut, cursing

The wind whirled around me as I careened towards the glistening goal posts, imagining the opposing team’s Keeper darting back and forth in hopes of blocking the Quaffle that was currently tucked under my arm. I feigned left and the imaginary keeper followed suit. I threw right – Quaffle sailing through the rightmost gold hoop.

I smiled and dove down past the posts to catch up with my own throw. Even though it was still the first week of the new term, I was determined to prove my newly acquired captain-status. Hufflepuff hadn’t had a female captain in ages; and, paired with that, I was only a 6th year.

Luckily, I had a strong team behind me with mostly returning players who I knew would fiercely support me. Us Puffs stuck together. It was inherently in our blood to be loyal as hell to our own, and I thanked Merlin for that every day since receiving the captain’s badge.

As soon as I had hopped on the Hogwarts’ Express a few days prior, I had immediately been swept up in a giant bear hug by Jeong Yunho, one of the Hufflepuff beaters.

“Oh, captain! My captain!” he had dramatically cried, spinning me around. His Dead Poet’s Society reference was not lost on me since I had a muggle parent with excellent taste in movies. Similar reactions from the rest of the team followed suit over the course of the train ride and the Welcoming Feast.

Trials for our only open position of Seeker would take place this weekend with practices immediately starting Monday. We had high hopes for redemption this season after being crushed by Slytherin’s team of goons early on in the Cup tournament.

The Slytherin team’s head hooligan Kang Dokyun led his team with a nasty blend of intimidation and violent tactics. I was convinced that Slytherin didn’t even hold trials and that they just lined up the Slytherin boys, picking out the biggest of the lot. Basically, Slytherin was strong, but slow and slightly uncoordinated. We could beat them by exploiting their weaknesses – of that I was certain.

Ravenclaw would be a bit harder to conquer. Their team played with a level of elegance and intelligence that was so utterly Ravenclaw that even us Puffs got annoyed. Ravenclaw’s captain Yoon Jisoo constructed tactical plays so tricky that she was already recruited to play for Puddlemore next year. Their team was smart, but not completely unbeatable. The Ravenclaws sometimes got so ingrained in their methodical maneuvers that they failed to notice some of their opponents’ counterattacks. That was how they lost the Cup last term to Gryffindor.

Gryffindor was our toughest competition. Winning the Cup last term, the Gryffindor team was a nauseatingly perfect balance between brains and brawn. Their captain Jeon Jeongguk, now a 7th year, was renowned for his tyrannical practice regime that he put his team through. We’d only played Gryffindor once in the regular season last year, and we had held our own for a while until we started getting tired and they didn’t. Seems like Jeongguk knew his shit when it came to conditioning. Something that I was determined to emulate with my own team.

Jeongguk was also the best damn Keeper that Hogwarts had seen in a long time, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the looks of the professional Quidditch scouts that avidly attended his matches. He was way bigger than a typical Keeper – extremely tall with broad shoulders and giant paws for hands. However, the only thing bigger than his stature and talent was his fucking ego.

He carried himself like he was the king of the school, and, unfortunately, most people treated him like it. Girls especially flocked to him – mainly for two reasons: 1) Jeongguk was undoubtedly hot, and 2) he held the promise of a rich future. Personally, I cared for neither of those traits considering his appalling personality and pride.

That damned ego would be his downfall this season. I would make sure of it, I thought as I circled around the stadium and then landed to get a drink.

I was definitely above average on the Quidditch talent scale. Holding the current school record for most assists in a season, I considered myself the glue of the Hufflepuff team – a fact that our Head of House obviously agreed with. However, no one really talked about the glue of a team, they talked about the flashy glitter and the gold stars. I was fine with that. Being the underdog was nothing new to a Hufflepuff, and I planned on using that to our advantage this season. Who said Puffs couldn’t be a little devious?

I smirked to myself as I grabbed my broom, ready to get back to practicing. This would be our fucking year.

“Hey,” a deceptively sweet voice rang out from above me, “You mind sharing the pitch? I need to practice.”

My mood soured. I knew who that was. Kicking off the ground, I flew to face him, “Sure thing, Jeon, just stay out of my way.”

It was almost as if I’d slapped him across the face, “Excuse me?” he choked out, “Do I know you?”

Unbelievable. Jeongguk’s head was evidently so far up his own ass he couldn’t recognize opponents he’d been playing for years. “I guess not,” I countered. And with a flick of my ponytail, I took off towards the opposite end of the pitch.

Unfortunately, he followed, “Are you a Gryffindor? If so, you should come to tryouts tomorrow. You’re pretty fast and we need a new Chaser.”

“Not a Gryffindor,” I called out, dipping low to the ground to scoop up my old practice Quaffle, “But I am a Chaser.”

Jeongguk was still tailing me, and I pulled to a stop to face him, “I thought you had to practice?”

He mirrored my position and crossed his arms. I tried (and failed) to stop myself from noticing how his biceps flexed and how a hint of his famed phoenix tattoo curled up his neck. Merlin, even I couldn’t deny he was hot as fuck. The recent summer months seemed to have blessed his skin with a glowing tan that accentuated the warmth of his dark eyes. It also seemed like he forgot what a haircut was as I watched the wind tousle his slightly curling hair.

“I do,” his eyes were narrowed as he cleared his throat, “I just have to make sure you’re not spying for another team.”

All thoughts of him being fine flew out the Owlery as I scowled. I refused to be intimidated by some arrogant asshole, “Did you not hear me when I said to stay on the opposite end of the pitch, Jeon? What kind of self-respecting spy would ask that?”

“You’re a Slytherin,” Jeongguk declared, his tone too sure for my liking.

He was really aggravating me now, and it took a lot for a Puff to get pissed off, “So, just because I have a semblance of a backbone, I’m a Slytherin? You need to brush up on your House knowledge.”

He was quiet, his expression contemplative, his jaw clenched. His eyes were scanning me with an intensity I was not sure I liked. And then he did something I liked even less: “I propose a game,” his mouth twisted upwards in a smirk, “You say you’re a Chaser?”

I gave a slight tilt of my chin in affirmation. He resumed, “Well, then you must know I’m a Keeper.” He paused, grinning wickedly, waiting for me to react to the double entendre. Eyebrows raised at my pointed silence, he continued, “And we both need to practice… So how ‘bout you try to score on me and for every shot I block you have to answer one of my questions.”

This motherfucker right here. I summoned my inner Helga to give me the strength to deal with this Gryffindor prick, “Say I was to agree to this, what would I get if I score on you?”

The laugh I got in response made all thoughts of remaining a kind and patient Puff evaporate faster than a weak Patronus.

He was still laughing when he noticed I looked ready to Avada him wandless, “Okay, okay. What do you want if you score?” He barely got the words out in between chuckles.

“To come to a Gryffindor practice.”

That shut him up real fast, “No fucking way. I don’t need you distracting my players.”

My nose crinkled, “Distracting? I would just be sitting in the stands, you prick.”

His jaw ticked as he rolled his eyes, “You could be on the furthest corner of the pitch and you’d still distract them, jagi.”

“Don’t call me that. And, pray tell, why I would distract them?” Our brooms were now practically touching as we had instinctively moved closer to one another. I could see the sweat glistening on his brow and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. Merlin, he was potent.

“Because,” Jeongguk paused, acting like this was the most obvious answer in the world, “You’re hot.”

I blinked. And blinked again, “Are you serious?” He opened his mouth to respond. “Nope, don’t answer that, Jeon,” I brushed right over his attempt to answer my rhetorical question, “So, do we have a deal or not? If you’re the esteemed Keeper that you clearly think you are, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to block all my shots, should it?”

My words echoed around us. He looked conflicted, but I knew his ego would not let my challenge go, “Deal. Five shots from the penalty mark.”

He flew towards the goal posts, “Looking forward to getting my questions answered, love,” he bellowed back at me.

I mentally flipped him off as I took off after him, clutching my Quaffle.

Sending out a plea to Merlin, Helga and everyone in between, I pulled to a stop at the penalty mark and pondered how I wanted to play this. He obviously thought he would save all five attempts. I spared him a glance and glower as I notice he was slouching on his broom with a lazy smirk, clearly not taking me as a serious threat.

Fine, I would just have to hustle him. He was asking for it at this point.

I got into formation. As much as it would pain me to mess up this shot on purpose, I knew that I had to in order to make my plan work.

Taking off towards the posts, my movement caused Jeongguk to finally move into a somewhat defensive position. I feigned right, doing so in a way too obvious manner. Hurling the Quaffle towards the top hoop, I watched expectantly as he deflected it with just a slight flick of his hand.

“Come on,” Jeongguk laughed, “You can do better than that, jagi.” He flew over to me and when I stretched to take back the Quaffle he now held in his hand, he shifted it out of reach, “Uh-uh, nope. It’s question time. What’s your name?”

How predictable. “It’s (y/n). Now give me the Quaffle.”

“Last name?” Jeongguk kept the Quaffle out of my hands.

“That’s a separate question, Jeon. You never specified that I give you my full name.” It was my turn to smirk as he threw the Quaffle back at me and headed back to the posts mumbling about loopholes and how I must’ve been a Ravenclaw.

I lined back up for the second shot. I had to make this one a little bit better than the last to show that I was trying, but not too much better that he’d be prepared for my final shots.

I ducked down, twisting around to head towards the right post with my full focus on the hoop. I launched the Quaffle. Jeongguk swooped up to catch it in a way that was entirely too elaborate for such a lame throw. He was clearly showing off – an action that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the meaning behind.

Jeongguk made his way over to me, grinning, “Second question, jagi. Full name, please.”

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n),” I muttered, eyes scanning his face for signs of recognition and hands grabbing the Quaffle away from him.

He looked puzzled, “(y/l/n)? Why does that sound so familiar?”

Before he could think on it further, I pushed his shoulder, “Back to the posts. You got your answer.”

Well, I had attempted to push his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch at my shove. His eyes darted to where my hand now laid on his chest. I removed it faster than a Wronski Feint, trying to ignore the tingles that shot up my arm.

Our eyes connected and his were blazing as his mouth crept into a slow smile, “Like your hands on me.” Before I could formulate a reply, he flew off and I resolved that I would make this next shot as if my life depended on it.

We faced each other. I shifted the Quaffle from hand to hand and took off towards him. I gave him no tells, no feints, nothing. This seemed to throw him off for a split second, but that second was all I needed to send the Quaffle sailing through the bottom hoop.

“What the fuck was that?” Jeongguk yelled as he got all up in my face.

I bit back a smile. “Beginner’s luck?” I quipped, loving how his face had darkened perceptibly, “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can pick up some more tips at your practice.”

Unable to keep my grin in check any longer, I smile widely as he lets out a stream of curses that would make even my old crotchety aunt blush.

We resumed our positions. This time he seemed more alert and watchful. He was getting wary of me, despite my claim that it was just luck. Maybe he knew better after all…

“That won’t happen again, (y/n). Don’t get used to it!” he shouted from the posts.

…Or not.

I took off. Luck be damned. I zigzagged back and forth towards him. Throwing the Quaffle up in the air, I quickly rolled off my broom, sharply grabbing its end and swinging it up to hit the Quaffle mid-air through the center goalpost. A perfectly executed Finbourgh Flick. Regaining my seat on my broom I sailed back to the penalty line and turned back to face Jeongguk.

He looked utterly gobsmacked, “Beginner’s luck? Beginner’s fucking luck? Who the fuck are you?”

I grinned victoriously at his wounded ego, “You know my name, Jeon. Now you can use it at two practices.”

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n), (y/f/n) (y/l/n)… fucking hell, you’re the new Hufflepuff captain,” he gawked at me.

“Bingo, Gryff,” I laughed, “Took you long enough.”

“Why did I think you were a bloke? I would have remembered such a—” he cut himself off, “You hustled me! There is no way I’m letting you into my practices now.”

We were nose to nose now as I responded, “A deal’s a deal. I thought you Gryffindors were all about honor.”

His face was thunderous, “And I thought you Hufflepuffs were all about fairness.”

“We are,” I said plainly, “We just don’t take lightly to intimidation. Now come on, we’ve got one round left.”

A range of emotions moved across his face to settle in a heated look that I couldn’t quite decipher, “Fine, jagi,” his molten gaze darted to my mouth, “Give it your best shot.”

Swallowing hard, I shook my head, trying to clear my brain of entirely too inappropriate thoughts of me and Jeongguk. As much as I attempted to refocus on making my final shot, my attention wasn’t fully there.

And I fucked it up. Jeongguk dove to catch my throw mid-air, and he sped towards me triumphantly, “Slipping already? What was that?”

I blushed. He noticed.

“Come on,” he said, “I need a drink and then you need to answer my last question.”

I followed him to the ground, cursing my treacherous body for reacting so obviously. My subconscious battled:

‘He’s a player!’ the imaginary Dumbledore on my right shoulder boomed.

‘Kiss him. Now!’ hissed the fictitious Voldemort from the other side.

However, all thoughts evacuated my brain at the sight of Jeongguk peeling off his shirt and taking a long sip from his water bottle. My traitorous eyes flew over his torso. I took in his defined abs, his chiseled arms and his fucking beautiful phoenix tattoo that spanned the entirety of his left shoulder, left upper back, and a portion of his neck.

Then I noticed his eyes were watching me right back. And they were all to amused to be innocent… “Are you seducing me?”

He spit out his mouthful of water, laughing, “Why? Is this working for you?”

My eyes now resembled slits as I glared at him, “Is that your last question?”

“No!” His response came so fast I jolted back on impulse, “No, it’s not…”

He trailed off as he prowled towards me. I stepped back. He kept coming. I stepped back further.

“Why are you running, jagi?” his words were too soft and too intense for my liking. I took another step back and bumped up against the stands. His grin in response was predatory as he caged me in between the stands and his body, his arms on either side of my head.

“Nowhere to run now, little Hufflepuff…” he dragged a finger along the hollows of my throat. He definitely felt the rapid pounding of my pulse, his eyes darkening to the point that they almost seemed black.

I glared defiantly at him, refusing to be daunted by his size or his words. He smirked, “Your last question: do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”

I stopped breathing. He waited, a look of uncertainty flickered on his face so briefly I almost thought I’d imagined it.

That little flare of vulnerability – that should not have been as appealing to me as it was – helped me to regain some of my bearings, “And how much do you want to kiss me? I need a scale of reference.”

He smiled crookedly as he leaned in even further, lips brushing against me as he whispered into my neck, “So fucking bad.”

His tongue darted across my skin as he dragged it up towards my ear. Biting it softly, he murmured, “Well?”

Fuck it all.

My hands latched onto his shoulders and his head snapped up. Raising to my tiptoes, I kissed him. He let out a rough groan, sounding like I was killing him. His hands slid down my body to squeeze my ass before hoisting me up. My legs circled his lean hips as his teeth caught my bottom lip in a faint bite. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly. His hips pressed into mine, drawing a moan from my lips. He smiled against my mouth.

I nipped his lip now in retribution, but it seemed to only urge him on. One hand came up to remove my hair-tie, flinging it over his shoulder. I made a noise of protest, but he just kissed me harder.

How the fuck was he holding me up with one hand?

I prided myself on being a pretty thick bitch, and he was over here acting like I weighed nothing. My fingernails slid down his back, raking over the hard muscles and feeling how they flexed and shifted under my touch.

I don’t know how long we spent making out against the stands, but soon enough we heard voices coming from around the corner. Ripping my mouth away from his, I jumped out of his embrace, landing on shaky legs.

His arm wrapped around my waist as he steadies me. He was breathing just as hard as me and I could feel his heartbeat racing. I tugged away from him to retrieve my hair-tie from the ground and put my now wild hair back into its ponytail.

I could feel Jeongguk’s eyes on me all the while. I looked at him. His lips were swollen, his hair was a disheveled mess, his neck was displaying a rather nice hickey that I was sure was mirrored several times over on my own neck. A rare feeling of pride shot through me, and as he opened his mouth to say something, I shook my head and placed a finger over his lips.

“I’ll see you at your practice, Jeon.” I placed a quick kiss on his cheek, grabbed my broom and walked off.

As I strode away, I heard him grumbling under his breath: “Everybody warns you about the Slytherins. Nobody fucking warns you about the Hufflepuffs. Fucking hell…”

I smiled all the way back to the Common Room.

#bts #bts smut #bts imagine #bts fic #jeongguk #jungkook #bangtan #jjk x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #harry potter au #gryffindor jungkook #jungkook imagine

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ticklishfiend · 4 years

Text

What Do You Know?!

My Hero Academia [Kaminari, Sero, Mina]

Summary: Sero and Mina see Bakugou and Kirishima cuddling, and wanna tell Denki to surprise him with this news. Unfortunately for them, he already knew about this and is refusing to answer their questions...well, nothing a little “persuasion” can’t fix.

AN: i haven’t written in a hot second!! i knew i said i was gonna write smth for saiki k, and i probably still will, but denki getting tickled silly has been on my mind recently and i couldn’t just Not. i hope u enjoy!!

Word Count: 1,829

~~~

There’s nothing in the world Denki Kaminari treasures more than a good old-fashioned lazy Saturday, even if a lot of his friends judge him harshly for it. He doesn’t care, though, cause right now the feeling of snuggling himself into the corner of this UA dorm couch cushion feels way better than any exercise routine his friends could ever recommend.

Fully dressed in only his shorts and tank top covered in the fluffiest blanket he could find laying around, he swore he could just about fall into the deepest lazy-induced coma the world had ever seen. That is, until, two of his best friends ran into the common areas from the hallway.

“Denki! Denki!” He heard a familiar female-voice shout, grinning as he heard the pink girls slippers slide against the slippery floor.

“Dude, holy shit have we got something to tell you,” Sero’s voice joined in from right behind Kaminari’s head, making the blonde look up to see the all-too familiar wide smile from his best friend. The black-haired boy jumped over the back of the sofa, landing beside Denki with a huff.

“What’s up?” Denki asked, turning his tired body towards the pair with raised eyebrows. Mina let out a dramatic muffled shriek from behind her hands, before excitedly waving them around her head.

“Okay okay okay! So, Bakugou is like, super not-cool with touchy stuff, right?” Ashido said in an almost whisper as if she would get caught for what she was about to say.

“Well yeah, he’d probably kill us if we so much as patted his shoulder,” Kaminari chuckled, rolling his eyes at the thought.

“Yeah, us maybe; but apparently not Kirishima,” Sero grinned widely, eyeing Mina with a knowing expression. “We just saw them cuddling in Kiri’s bed; guess they forgot to close the door all the way cause we could see it all.”

“But that’s not even all! Kirishima was like, kinda tickling Bakugou? Not like attacking him, but just, like, lightly tickling his stomach and making him all giggly and stuff,” Mina was buzzing where she sat on the coffee table in front of the two boys, excitement in her eyes.

Denki just chuckled, looking away for a moment before looking them both back in the eyes. “Yknow, I thought I was supposed to be the stupid one in this friend group.”

“Huh?” The others said in unison, Sero’s head cocking to the side.

“What do you mean? We just found out about them. Are you saying you already knew?!” Sero frowned. Denki would’ve thought he was actually angry if he didn’t notice the small smile he was fighting off his face.

“Well obviously, but they told me not to say anything, so don’t ask for any info cause I’m NOT spilling. If you think I’m about to die at the hands of Katsuki Bakugou just cause you two are nosy, you’ve got another thing coming,” Denki giggled, already starting to lay back down in his spot before Sero grabbed him by his forearm suddenly.

“Hey, you’re not getting off that easy, Sparky. You’re gonna tell us everything you know about those two, no backing out.”

“Yeah, we’ve been out of the loop for way too long! That’s totally unfair!” Mina pouted, her arms crossing in front of her chest.

“No way! I’m not asking for a fucking death wish, dude!” Kaminari tried pulling his arm out of Sero’s grip, but it wasn’t budging. Before he knew what was happening, Denki was flipped on his stomach, both hands behind his back in Sero’s firm grip. “Hey, what the-!”

Suddenly, Kaminari could feel the familiar feeling of Sero’s sticky tape being wrapped with precision around his wrists, before being flipped back over on his back, his arms raising his body just slightly off the couch. “Yo what the hell, Tapeface!”

“Oh nice one, Sero!” Mina shouted excitedly, clapping to herself. “We thinkin’ the same thing?”

“Without a doubt, Pinky,” Sero smirked, his eyes never leaving the squirming boy under him. Sero was propped up on Denki’s thighs, holding down his lower body with his weight. “So, are you gonna start talking, or would you rather suffer a fate worse than death?” Sero smiled wickedly, his hands raising in the air above Denki’s belly with wiggling fingers. Kaminari’s eyes went wide, an accidental worried grin appearing in his face.

“Plehehease don’t,” Denki whimpered, his belly quivering under Sero’s fingers that were still in the air. He giggled helpessly, his eyes never leaving those wiggling fingers.

“I’m not even touching you yet!” Sero laughed.

“Denki, you know what you have to do if you don’t want this,~” Mina moved over towards Kaminari’s feet, using one hand to hold his left ankle down while her other hand’s fingers just rested still on his sole.

“Mina nohoho! Pleheheease, I can’t tell you guys, you know thahahat!” Denki squirmed, trying half-heartedly to get away, his Saturday laziness almost outweighing his desire to not be tickled silly.

“Alright Mina...on three…” Sero started, his fingers slowly getting closer to Kaminari’s belly.

“No! Waahait! C’mon, can’t we talk about this?!” Denki struggled, giggles leaving him without even trying.

“That’s what we’re trying to get you to do, Denki! Spill!” Mina smirked, before scribbling over Denki’s feet with no patience. Denki screamed with laughter, back arching off the couch as his hands tried desperately to release themselves from their sticky bonds.

“Mina, you were supposed to wait!” Sero smiled before suddenly digging his fingers into Kaminari’s sides without mercy.

“NOHOHO! STOHOHOP! I’M SOHOHORRY!” Denki cackled, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and smile so wide it nearly split his face. His right leg, not being held down by the pink torturer, kicked uselessly under Sero’s weight.

“So does that mean you’re gonna tell us everything you know about Kirishima and Bakugou?” Sero smiled, creeping his hands under Denki’s shirt and fluttering over his lower belly. This elicited higher-pitched shrieks from the smaller boy, his stomach sucking in uselessly

“I CAHAHAN’T! I CAHAHA-” Kaminari’s words dissolved into nothing but giggles. He felt the smallest bit of relief once he felt Mina’s hands finally leave his feet alone. The pink girl stood from her spot at his feet and began walking towards his thrashing head (not like Denki could see this, as his eyes were squeezed shut so tightly he was seeing colorful spots).

Ashido knelt down beside his head, her fingers now barely fluttering over his incredibly sensitive neck. Denki let out a girlish shriek, dissolving into childish giggles while trying to bunch his shoulders up to fend off her wiggling fingers.

“C’mon, Denki, I know you wanna talk~” Sero teased, his left fingers still fluttering over Kaminari’s very sensitive lower-belly, while his left hand dug ruthlessly into his ribs. Denki was cackling, his now semi-free legs kicking helplessly, ankles occasionally digging into the cushions with mirth.

Suddenly, Mina stopped tickling his neck, looking over towards her fellow killer. “Sero...go for the spot.” Denki let out a loud gasp, eyes snapping open to look towards Sero with pleading eyes. Sero stopped his tickling for a moment, allowing Denki to breathe for just a moment, not like Kaminari took this as an actual chance to catch his breath. Of course, he instead used this moment to plead for his life.

“SERO! Sero! We’re buddies, right?1 You don’t have to do this! We can talk about this plehehease! Please!” Kaminari pleaded like he was about to lose his life, though the wide, happy smile on his face told his friends all they needed to know about what he really wanted.

“Hey, Sparky, you know he doesn’t have to do a thing if you just tell us what we wanna know~” Mina whispered teasingly in the blonde’s ear, her tickly breath causing a giggle to leave his throat as he scrunched up his neck yet again.

“Christ, Kaminari, you’re so ticklish,” Sero laughed, his hands now resting on Denki’s hips.

“Nohoho! Please not there, plehehease! What do you wanna know?!” Denki pleaded, his hands still struggling in their bonds beneath his back.

“How long have you known?!” Mina poked his cheek.

“What other cute stuff have you seen that you kept from us?!” Sero squeezed Denki’s hips once, though the action still made the boy jolt with a choked laugh.

“And why are they hiding it from us?!” Mina pinched Denki’s nose, making him move his head away with a stifled uncomfortable giggle.

“Okahahy, okay. I’ll...I’ll talk. Just...not my hips, GOD not my hips,” Kaminari rolled his head back with another giggle.

“Whatever you say, giggle-monster,” Sero chuckled, sneaking in two quick squeezes to Denki’s hips, causing the smaller boy to shriek. Sero rolled off of Kaminari, flipping the boy back over on his stomach and untying the tape binding his hands together. Kaminari finally sat up, stretching his now slightly-sore arms.

“Jesus, you two are way too good at that. I swore for a minute there I was gonna die,” Kaminari smiled, covering himself up with his blanket again before facing the two offenders before him.

“Well, get on with it,” Ashido said, raising her hands to her face with wiggling fingers. Kaminari giggled nervously at this, suriming a bit in his seat.

“Oh right, that,” he smiled. “I’ve known for like...I don’t know, 4 months now? I don’t actually know exactly how long it’s been happening, but definitely 4 months minimum.”

Sero and Mina pouted like children at that. “Seriously, that long and we never knew?!” Sero whined.

“How did you find out!?” Mina asked.

“I walked in on them making out when I was going to ask Bakugou with help on my homework. Kirishima basically had to convince Bakugou not to murder me on the spot for being a witness, and I had to promise them I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Well why did they keep it from us in the first place?” Sero asked, his head cocking to the side in confusion. “It’s not like we’d judge them for it, y’know?”

“Yeah, well, you know Bakugou. Can’t let anyone know he experiences human emotions other than pure, fiery rage,” Denki said, his hands mimicking Bakugou’s signature hand motion he uses before blasting someone into the next dimension.

“THE HELL’D YOU SAY ABOUT ME, POWER OUTLET?!” A loud yell came from the hallway, Kaminari’s hair standing on edge at the sound.

“Oh shit...you think he knows I spilled?” Denki whispered worriedly at his ex-torturers.

“Maybe not now, but he will,” Sero smiled wickedly before jumping off the couch and walking confidently towards the hallway.

“Wait, what?!-” Kaminari started before going uiet as he heard muffled talking coming from the hallway. There was a few moments of nothing but pure silence. Then-

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU WALKING SHORT-CIRCUIT!”

“You should probably run,” Mina smiled, giggling behind her hand. Denki shot up off the couch, making a b-line towards the front door, giggling the whole way there.

~~~

AN: hope you enjoyed that! reblogs are highly appreciated, but likes are great too!!

#bnha #my fic #mha #tickling #tickle fic #ticklish!kaminari #ticklish!denki #lee!denki #lee!kaminari #ler!sero #ler!mina #kiribaku #implied but still lmao #denki kaminari #hanta sero #mina ashido #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #tickle community

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rose7420 · 3 years

Text

I did this one shot for a Loki x reader. I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile and wanted to see how it played out. Enjoy! Your part of the avengers now and have a secret to hide. You have the same powers as the Wasp, but you don’t require a suit. When you shrink your wings grow automatically.

It’s 12:00 in the morning and you have things to do. Every other night you’ve been going to New York’s Finest Fighters. A brawling club. No one here of the Avengers knows of what you’re up to, you’ve made damn sure of that. Every single time you tell your sad, messed up story everyone gives you pity. Pity will get you nowhere. But money will. So you fight to win. You pull on your jacket after you’ve made sure everyone’s asleep. Before exiting your room you shrink and slip under the crack of the door. Right across your room is Loki’s. He is always very quiet, yet very perceptive. You never talk much, only in walking by or the occasional trip to the library where he takes residence in a plush red chair frequently. Your wings buzz softly as you pass his room, flying into the kitchen area so you can exit off the balcony of Stark Tower. You can see the bright lights of other buildings as you look out the expansive window. You can imagine the nightlife of the city that never sleeps. Despite the lights outside the tower it is dark and eerily silent as you meander your way to the door. The only noise that can be heard is the faint buzz of your wings. You feel the pinprick of eyes on your back. You land on the counter in the kitchen and hide behind a salt shaker. Slowly peeking from behind the shaker, you scan the room and detect no one. You criticize yourself for letting your nerves get to you. When you brace yourself for flight again you catch sight of a dark figure standing in the hallway you just came from. Loki. How did I not hear him? Knowing that he may be on to you sends a terrifying jolt through your entire being. He may tell the others that you’ve been sneaking around at night. Tony and Steve will be pissed that you are putting yourself in danger and Natasha will wonder why she isn’t in on your little secret. Loki starts walking towards the counter, his gaze not quite set on you yet. His footsteps slightly rattle your shrunken form. Oh hell. Need to hide, need to hide. You frantically shout to yourself.You realize with dread that your only hope of not being seen is somewhere not on the counter. You take a risk and jump off the side of the counter hoping that it doesn’t draw his attention. Your wings come to life at the last minute to save yourself from injury. Dropping the rest of the short distance to the floor you sprint under the couch. You stay under there for what feels like hours until you hear his footsteps become more distant. You take a peek from under the couch and see that he is gone. Finally, you can do what needs to be done.

Tonight you're up against a woman with the power of invincibility. You are confident of your ability to take her down. Your training as an agent has taught you many valuable skills, hand to hand combat is one of them. You don’t need to kill her, just bring her down unconscious or until she gives up, and then you’ll get your cash. The countdown begins at 1...2...3...go! You and her punch, kick, and bite. She is a formidable opponent and manages to get a few good punches in. You’ll have to cover the bruises with makeup tomorrow. You manage to take her down with a classic move of yours where you shrink and then grow punching her with enough force to send her to the ground. You win and gather your cash exiting the building. You make sure to be aware of anyone following you. Thankfully no one is tonight. You shrink, the money shrinking beside you, and aim for the top of Stark Tower. You enter the building and head straight to your room slipping under the door. Growing back, you put your money in a bag in your closet where the rest is stored. You’ll put it in the bank account later. For now, you want to take a shower. Your body is sweaty and grimy and the hot water is pleasant as it runs over you. After dressing for bed, you climb under the covers and drift into a deep sleep.

The next morning you awake from your loud alarm. You head to the bathroom and catch a peek of yourself in the mirror. You look horrendous. Your cheek shows a purple bruise and dark circles hang under your eyes. You grab your concealer and frantically dab at your new bruise and your undereyes. Now you look slightly better, just appearing like you had a bad night’s sleep. Which isn’t entirely a lie. You usually get back around two in the morning and wake around eight. And on the nights that you don’t fight, you visit the hospital. Do not think about that now. Be strong, put on a smile, and act like your fine. You don’t sleep well. So what? Nobody does. You put back on your warm demeanor and get ready for the day. Dressed and prepared for the day, you enter the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and something to eat. The smell of coffee wakes up your senses and you bring the hot drink to your lips. Your eyes trace over the counters and land on one particular thing. The salt shaker. It reminds you of your close encounter with Loki last night. Hearing footsteps you turn around and see the person you would least like to at the moment. Loki makes eye contact with you briefly before heading to the couch and taking a seat. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, you ask him if he wants coffee. He shakes his head no. He is definitely on to you. Your paranoia is getting the best of you. You take a seat in the furthest chair, his gaze set upon you.

“Where did that bruise on your face come from?”

You reach up to brush at the bruise you thought was unnoticeable a wince a bit when your fingers rub it. And look at him fully now. His posture is relaxed, one leg crossed on the other. As if he really doesn’t care where the bruise came from. Your shoulders relax from their tense position that you didn’t even know you held.

“Natasha and I sparred, she got me good.”

“I’d say. Yet, you are the best woman here when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. It surprises me that she could get a punch in. Not to mention your...abilities.”

You blush at his compliment. You knew you were good at fighting, but you never thought you were the best. Natasha is the trained assassin here.

“Looks like she got the best of me this time.” You say. Oh, he definitely is on to me. On the inside, you're terrified your secret is out, but you only take another sip of coffee.

Later on…

You’re in the training room using the punching bag. Your knuckles are wrapped but you wear no gloves. You want to feel your knuckles crack today. It releases the fury and sadness you feel inside you.

“You’ll break your hand if you keep going like that.” says a smooth voice behind you.

It startles you yet you don’t jump, turning around you spot Loki leaning on the wall.

“What’s got you so worked up?” He asks, taking steps closer to you.

“Oh, you know the usual. Couldn’t find the right shoes to go with the outfit.”

His lips lift up slightly, and a quiet chuckle escapes his mouth. I actually got him to laugh! You say to yourself, a bit proud.

“Perhaps you would like to… fight? One-on-one?”

“Me? Would you not rather have someone else?” You are surprised by his sudden offer. Why with you of all people?

“I only wish to see how you fight. No foul play.”

You take a step back ready to refuse. You are tired of fighting, he can find someone else to torture. Yet he stops you with a firm hand on your wrist. You twist to get out of his grip but he is too strong.

So that’s how it’s going to be.

You shrink, escaping his grip. Sprinting between his feet you grow back and take him in a chokehold. He flips your body over, causing you to land painfully on your back. He lunges, but before he can pin you down you shrink and roll to the side. You watch as he searches for your miniaturized form below him. You fly up and land a punch to his jaw. His head flies back a little. Before he can regain his senses and perceive where you are you grow and land atop him. Both wrists in your grip, sitting on his hips to prevent him from bucking you off.

“Do you yield?” You ask him.

“Not usually, but perhaps this once.”He replies in a silky voice. You become all too aware of your current position and quickly stand and offer a hand. He takes it and pulls himself up. You become aware of how much taller he is than you are. Your head barely clears the middle of his shoulder.

“Now, if you could best me, how in the nine realms did your partner best you?” Oh shit. You realize where you screwed up.

“I was having a bad day.”

“It seems like you were having a bad day today as well.”

“Maybe you aren’t as good as you think you are, Loki.”

“I doubt that entirely Agent (Y/N).” And he stalks off.

Few days later...

Once again it's midnight. Stark Tower is dark and silent once again. You sneak under the door and glance over to Loki’s room. You remember him almost catching you the other night so you take precautions tonight. You creep under the crack of his door after checking that the lights are off. Upon entering you realize you have never been in Loki’s room. It's too dark to see properly but you find that his room looks normal. You don't know what you were expecting, maybe a bit more pizazz from the God of Mischief. Your wings buzz as you fly over to the bed to make sure he’s asleep. You find his sleeping form under blankets. His chest rises and falls with each breath. He looks peaceful and carefree much unlike the other times you have seen him. Even when he reads he usually has a scowl on his face. Not like you watch him read. Satisfied with your findings you make your way to the door again, ready to leave. Landing on the ground you walk to the crack under the door. A black boot slams in front of you. You fall back onto your ass from the sheer force and weight of the boot. You attempt to grow to your original size when to your horror you stay the same size. No, no no...You repeat over and over. Craning your neck back you can see a gigantic form towering over your miniaturized self. From this viewpoint he looks like an unforgivable god. You scramble back on all fours avoiding his foot.

“What are you doing in my quarters, agent?” Loki's voice thunders through your form. You halt your movement and you can't seem to speak. Your mind is blank. How in the world can I explain this?

His knee drops in front of you, causing the world to tremble once again.

You already have a feeling of what's coming next.Your senses regain themselves and start to haul ass out of there. You get to your feet swiftly and run to the door. But not fast enough. A hand is in front of you forming an impenetrable wall. You turn around to seek escape but it is soon gone by another tremendous palm. They start to close together moving fast and in slow motion all at once if that is even possible. He brings his cupped palms right under his nose glaring down at you. Those immense green eyes stare down into you, filling you with dread sweeping you off your feet.

“Let me go!” You shout up at him and kick at his hand.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” He asks.

“Why can I not grow back?” You retort.

“You give me an explanation, I let you grow back.”

“Why is it so important to you?”

He nudges you to a single palm, before you can question his action you find yourself pinned helplessly between his forefinger and thumb of the opposite hand. You expect there to be more pressure on your ribs and chest, yet he holds you gently but firmly preventing you from falling to a great height. He slowly raises you to both his glaring eyes.

“I found you in my chambers, the question is why is it so important to you?” He snarkily retorts.

You stare up at his billboard sized face. His enormous eyes search you as if he will find the explanation painted on your body.

“I can’t tell you.” You say weakly.

“Then I guess you will stay like this.”

He moves to set you somewhere but you speak up. His movements come to a halt.

“I fight. I fight at this place to earn money. “ You look up and see his eyebrow quirked up.

“That is what you are hiding. There is more, tell me.”

“What is it to you!” You shout angrily at him. You give him no time to speak and continue but in a softer, weaker tone.

“My sister lies in a hospital bed dying. I have no money so I have to earn it somehow.”

You don't have the energy to care what Loki thinks right now. A hot tear runs down your cheek. You're so tired. In every sense of the word. You feel you power thrum through you, and watch with dead, unseeing eyes as Loki lowers you to the bed. You numbly walk on the bedspread.You don't want to face him at your full size just yet, he seems to grasp onto this concept as he kneels to your level and waits for you to speak. After some time you dry your eyes and your body expands and you are now looking down at him instead of up.

He takes your hands in his with a tender grip.

“Look at me (Y/N.)” His tone is gentle, and you raise your head to see his face.

You see pity in those green eyes.

An outraged spark flares in you and you rip your hands out of his grip.

“I don't need your pity.” you say weakly. Realizing what you just said an apology starts to come out of your mouth but Loki beats you to the next word.

“Why would I waste it on you anyway? You're nothing but a pathetic creature who waits by her sister’s deathbed keeping her here out of her your own selfishness..” He spits out cruelly.

The breath you had is expelled out of your lungs, you can't breathe. Your eyes are blank, yet filled with unshed tears. You can’t have a panic attack in front of Loki. You shoot straight to your feet and you open the door, and walk out not looking back to see his expression. For now you have work to do.

You might as well be a statue. Your mind is still and you keep reminding yourself to breathe. The encounter with Loki is fresh in your head.It reminds you how powerless you felt. Someone tugs on your arm, dragging you out of your thoughts.

“You're up next.”

Your throat is dry and you feel lightheaded. You desperately want to give up, say no to a duel tonight. But you can’t as you picture your sister in her prison of a bed.

Her sickly hand reaches out weakly to grasp a hold of yours. “You don't have to do this.” She tells you. “I want to do this. For you, for us.” You watch as she studies the bruise above your eye. “I want you to have a life. Taking care of me, that isnt your life.”

You shake your head as if the memory would fall out of your head. You can't focus on anything, yet you step into the ring. The countdown starts.

1, get yourself together (Y/N)

2, Remember why your doing this

3, You can do this

Before you even can get a punch in your opponent kicks your legs from underneath you. He is on top of you keeping you down under his weight. You shrink and escape his heavy hold. Out of the corner of your eye you see his hand coming towards you, ready to whack you out of the air. You try to dodge, but it's too late. You are smacked down to the ground, a terrible pain ongoing through your leg as well as your wings. You attempt to grow again but your energy is too low. Seconds later your vision blurs and you see darkness.

Maybe it'll be better if you do just lay here, you're selfish and pathetic anyway.

You're out.

Next Morning…

Loki's POV

I don't need your pity.

The words replay in his head. (Y/N) had been in so much pain he wanted to help. Then she turned him down. All he wants to do is make up with (Y/N). He did not mean those words at all. To think he called her pathetic and selfish all while she sacrifices her freedom and life for her sister. He wonders if Thor would do something like that for him. Or if he would even do that for Thor. She deserves someone to be there for her, care for her as greatly as she cares for her sister. He stands suddenly from his spot on his bed. Without thinking about it, he is headed towards his door. Soon he finds himself in front of (Y/N)’s room. He takes a deep breath before knocking. Three raps on the door he waits patiently. No answer.

Three more, and once again no answer.

“(Y/N)?” He calls out. It would be odd for her to be up early. It's not like her. Not like he watches her or anything.

He opens the door slowly and seeks out her bed. Only to find it empty. He throws the door open and searches the entire room, closet and bathroom. This isn't good.

She never came back last night.

He is out the door of Stark Tower in less than five minutes. He wishes he would have asked her where the place she goes every night is located. Pulling out his phone that he is granted to have but never uses he looks up possible locations she could be at.

As he walks in the dump they call a building he searches frantically for (Y/N). It is empty of people since it is daytime. He walks closer to a padded mat laying in the middle of the floor. As he looks closer he spots an object on the mat. He recognizes the object as (Y/N)’s body. Oh dear.

He kneels on the mat and delicately scoops her body in a palm. “No, no (Y/N). I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it.” Laying a finger over her chest he feels a weak heartbeat and notices her chest rises shallowly. He lets out a sigh of relief. He attempts to get her to wake up by shaking her shoulder. He notices the blood smears on his palm gently prods her side to see where it's coming from. Her leg sits at an odd angle and he sees white protruding from it. Her bone is sticking out from her leg and is bleeding profusely now. He looks over her for other injuries and sees her wing. It is bent. Oh the pain she must be in. He gently cradles her tiny body to his chest, avoiding jostling her at all. He has to get back to the tower now.

He brings her to Bruce. “What in the world happened?” Bruce asks. “Long story, can you fix her?” Loki asks desperately. “Put her over here.” Bruce gestures at a small table that has a magnifying glass attached to it. “Her injuries will be too small to see, and she can't grow back if she is unconscious. And if she does grow back she will be in much more pain” Loki lays (Y/N) down on the table and stares at her mutilated body. Loki watches Bruce get his supplies ready on the other side of the room but hears a small shuffling sound. He looks down and sees (Y/N) slowly coming back to consciousness. He swiftly kneels to be at her eye level and reaches out a hand to halt her movement. “(Y/N), stay still.” She looks at his looming hand with a measure of fear that sends a pang through his heart.

“My leg..I-it hurts.” She says weakly

“I know, I know. But stay still,okay? You're going to be fine.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you last night. I know I'm pathetic and selfish like you said. I just can't let go of her. She's all I have left.” She states.

Loki’s heart rips out of his chest. He clamps his thumb and forefinger delicately over her minuscule hand. “No, no (Y/N) .You're not pathetic nor selfish. You're brave, smart, and immensely kind and generous. Please forgive me for what I said I didn't mean.”

He waits for her response and starts to get worried that she will not forgive his harsh words but when he looks up he sees that she is still and not breathing. He panics and calls out to Bruce. Bruce hurries back with the materials and starts to work.

Hours later

Loki waits patiently by your bedside, you have been unconscious for hours after Bruce finished up with your injuries. Your tiny bed sits on a table in his room. He props his head up with one hand, keeping his other near you. You're still in your shrunken form. Loki was able to keep Bruce's curiosity of your whereabouts on the down low. He thinks about what you said and how you can think so poorly of yourself. And how you think the only people who you have left in this world are your sister. How terrible it is that you think yourself to be so unlovable that you don't think anyone here at the tower cares about you. You start to stir from your sleep and blink your eyes open looking around confused where you are. “Loki?” You stare up at him and ask.

“Im here (Y/N). How are you feeling?” He asks, worried you're in pain, despite the morphine running through your system. “Umm, better. I can't really feel anything.” You sit up slowly and reach back to touch your wings.

“You won't be able to fly for a while. Or grow back.” He says calmly waiting for your reaction. “How will I get around? I can’t exactly get around at this size you know, without these.” You gesture at your wings. He lowers his head down on crossed arms. “I'll help you.“ He says as if it's common knowledge in a breathy whisper. He is afraid to speak too loud this close to you. Suddenly you swing your legs off the side of your bed as if to stand. He raises his head off his arms and positions his thumb in your lap like a seatbelt, and rests the rest of his fingers behind you. His hand is bigger than your bed and his fingers hang off the side. “Where are you going?” He asks confused. “I need to put that money in the bank account for… well you know. Come on let me go.” “Absolutely not, your leg is still healing and you need to rest.” You dig your arms under his thumb and attempt to lift it off of you. It's bigger than your small form and he knows you're weak so your attempts to get his thumb off of you are futile. “Loki, move. Now.” You demand him. “You can worry about that later. You need to rest.” He pleads. His hand is cramping from trying to keep it positioned around your little frame. You finally relax and lean back. Yet you seem tense and sad. “Why is it so important to get the money in today?” Loki asks. You slowly raise your gaze to his and take a deep breath. “Every month I have to pay the hospice home so that they can keep taking care of her. If I don't then they will send her to another place. They aren't the best of places. Let's just say that.”

Loki considers this information for a moment. “What if I help you out and you show me how to do it?” You blink in surprise.

“You would do that for me?” You ask with astonishment. He nods and then says, “Consider it forgiveness for what I have said in the past.”

#giant/tiny #giant Loki #tiny reader #avenger reader #loki angst #Loki #marvel g/t #shrinking #Loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki oneshot

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sortavibing · 3 years

Text

haikyuu!! boys as surfers pt.2📼

kenma, hinata, and tendou

a new wave!! episode came out today- so we are doing a part two of this :P

kenma

he is pretty average at surfing, but he prefers to just sit under the shade of an umbrella playing a video game, so he only goes out when kuroo drags him into the water.

his favorite time to surf is when the sun is going down, because it’s not as hot, and there aren’t as many people there to bother him. also the waves aren’t too big, which makes it easier for him to try out new tricks.

kenma wears a dark grey wetsuit that is cut off at his elbows, and it has 1 red stripe going down each side of it.

before he goes surfing, he puts on a shit ton of sunscreen because he hates getting burned and his skin is really sensitive. lev laughs at him for putting on so much sunscreen, but then gets burnt like an hour afterwards.

kenma’s favorite move to do is the foam climb, because it isn’t too flashy, and you can do it without putting too much power or movement into it. he also really likes the feeling you get when you turn the board on the whitewater.

his surfboard is black, with 4 thin stripes, one neon orange, one neon green, one yellow, and one bright pink, going down the surfboard lengthwise. the edge of his surfboard is outlined in white.

he hates when sand gets in his wetsuit, so whenever kenma is on dry land, he is so careful not to kick up any sand, or step into a place with a deep patch of sand. once lev bumped into him while running to the water, and he fell face first into the sand. kenma was so close to choke slamming lev, until kuroo stopped him.

his favorite place to surf is in the tokushima and kochi prefectures, because it isn’t that busy, and there are good waves that aren’t too intense for his style.

hinata

he is a beginner at surfing, but he really really likes the feeling of riding the waves, because it feels like flying, and he always bothers everyone on karasuno to go with him, so he can surf with them.

he doesn’t care when he’s surfing, because no matter the time, he just wants to ride the waves, but if he were to choose, he likes to surf in the middle of the day, because more people are there to surf with him, and the waves are really good.

during his outings, he likes to take breaks from surfing for lunch, and to set up a quick game of beach volleyball with the karasuno team. once, he was so excited to play, that he set up the net wrong, and the wind blew it over and it fell on kageyama. hinata almost died after that

he wears orange board shorts with with a black waistband, and a black embroidered fish skeleton on the side of his left leg. he once tried wearing a wetsuit, but he hated it because it restricted his movement, so he just sticks to shorts.

his favorite trick to do is the cutback, because it looks hard and it’s pretty flashy. the first time he nailed the cutback, he got so excited that he started jumping up and down on the board, and it slipped from under him and he fell off. tsukishima thought it was the funniest thing ever.

hinata’s board is a light orange, with half of the surfboard being covered by light blue waves that are outlined with thick black lines.

his sister made him a bracelet using shells and those typical surfer beads, and he now wears it whenever he goes out surfing, and he takes a picture of him wearing it to send to his sister.

his favorite place to surf is the chiba prefecture because it’s one of the most popular surfing destinations in japan, and the waves are pretty big, so he can try out new tricks that his more experienced friends (kageyama, kenma, bokuto, etc.) are teaching him.

tendou

he is pretty good at surfing, and he actively competes in competitions, and he does well in them. people know him for his more risky, chaotic, surfing style and they think it’s really good.

his favorite time to surf is at night, because the waves are really big, and there’s this creepy yet peaceful vibe that the deserted beach gives off and he just loves it.

tendou usually goes surfing with the shiratorizawa team, and he teaches everyone new tricks and shows off whenever he gets the chance. he also really likes to flip his teammate’s boards while they are paddling, so they fall into the water. we stan

he wears board shorts that are the same purpley color as his shiratorizawa uniform, and it has 3 silver claw marks on the sides of the shorts.

his favorite trick to do is the rodeo flip, because it looks really extra and it gets a lot of attention. he likes it because he can kind of go crazy while in the air and off his board. tendou has a 65% chance of making it each time, but he still enjoys doing the trick when he fails.

his board is literal hellfire- like it’s neon green and the front and back of the board is just covered in stickers that he finds or gets from competitions. he also just sticks on random shit, like the barcode stickers, or the vinyl sticker of a road sign.

whenever he’s surfing, he likes to try and invent new crazy tricks that are mildly life-threatening, like doing a handstand on his board, or trying and off-the-lip with his eyes closed.

his favorite place to surf is the chūgoku region, because it has really big and powerful waves, so he can be more risky, and it’s not that crowded because the water is cold. tendou likes the water cold because he says it adds to the excitement.

i hope you enjoyed!

#haikyuu #tendou satori #shoyo hinata #kozume kenma #haikyuu headcanons #tendou headcanons #hinata headcanons #kenma headcanons #haikyuu imagines #tendou imagines #hinata imagines #kenma imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyu headcanons

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downwiththeficness · 3 years

Text

In the Bond-Chapter 20

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~5,400

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Smut

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

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Things had gotten impossibly worse while she was away. More injured had shown up at their doors, another attempt gone completely wrong. Lilah, Brasa, and Javier had spent the last four days working logistics for the extra beds needed—and the extra blood. Their supplies were so low that Brasa had drained the healing pool to fill more bellies. There was little time to think about closing the portal while hungry mouths kept showing up at their door.

Lilah rested her head in her hands, wracking her brain for ideas, “We could steal it.”

Brasa, stressed as he was, laughed softly, “You’re not going on another run so soon. I’ve just got you back.”

Casting him an affectionate glance, Lilah lifted a shoulder, “Doesn’t have to be me.”

He leaned back in his chair, looking to Javier. Dressed in a deep green suit, Jaiver ticked his head to the side, wrist turning so that his palm faced the ceiling. He wasn’t going to say no to the idea.

Brasa’s attention returned to Lilah, “Did you have someone in mind?”

She drew a deep breath in through her nose, pursing her lips so that the exhale came out as a kind of soft whistle, “You know who I’d pick.”

He nodded, “They are efficient.”

“They are available,” she added.

Javier pulled out his cell, “They are being notified.”

He strode from the room, closing the door behind him. Lilah slumped, picking at the frayed hem of her shorts. She tried not to think about what it would be like knowing that the brothers were pulling a job without her. Tried. Failed.

“I can choose another team,” Brasa commented lightly.

She shook her head, “No. There’s no time to explain why we would need a massive shipment of donated blood. Most teams are going to ask too many questions.”

Folding his hands on the table, Brasa silently agreed with her, “I can arrange for the exchange to occur off-site, if you like. You don’t have to see them.”

Lilah deeply appreciated the consideration, but she wasn’t going to make this more difficult that it needed to be, “All your people are here. Doesn’t make sense to bring it from one location to another. If its going to be a problem, I’ll hang out in our room during the hand off.”

Two days later, Lilah was doing just that when Brasa got a text from Richie that they were coming in hot. They didn’t know who was on their tail, but the reinforced walls of the shipping container were full of bullet holes and the rig was too big to lose the cars that followed.

Brasa was gone before she could blink, and Lilah wasn’t about to let him go alone. She grabbed her gun and knife, stalling for only half a second before pocketing her comm. She ran through the hallway, the office, the bar, and into the elevator. While she waited for the carriage to rise, she strapped the knife to her forearm and holstered the gun. When the doors opened to the empty parking garage and shipping bay, she made a sharp right and headed for the only set of stairs.

Feet slamming with every step, Lilah pushed through the door leading to the roof. She kept going until she hit the guard wall. Scanning the horizon, she easily spotted the semi speeding towards the building, kicking up a shit ton of dust in its wake. Behind it were two compacts that looked like they were sponsored by Red Bull. Modified with every possible option, sitting low, they flanked the rig.

Reaching into her pocket, Lilah dug the comm out of the holder, stuffing it into her ear and tapping it awake.

“Can anyone hear me?”

She got nothing in return. Lilah tried again.

“Anyone out there? Can you hear me?”

A second later, there was a distinctive click, followed by, “If you’re going to nag us about keeping a low profile, you can’t keep it to yourself.”

Richie.

Lilah exhaled in relief, “I take it you’ve noticed that you’re being followed.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Seth.

At least he was talking to her. Lilah half anticipated that he’d clam up out of sheer stubbornness. To be fair, they were hauling ass while trying to dodge bullets. Its possible he didn’t have the mental capacity to do both.

“Brasa’s on his way out there.” She spotted his dark figure running full sprint, impossibly fast, “Give him five seconds.”

“I got eyes,” Richie said in return. “He’s coming up on our left.”

Indeed he was. Lilah watched as he closed the distance, angling his way along the side of the semi. From the distance, Lilah couldn’t exactly tell what he did, but the car in front of him hit hard, flipping over its front wheels. It landed on its top, skidding a few feet. In the next breath, he was on it, hauling bodies from the inside. Whatever screams they might have made were lost to her as he pulled them apart.

Swallowing, Lilah pushed down her initial revulsion and focused on the semi as it neared, “You can’t pull into the garage with them on your ass.”

“I know that,” Richie spat, “Gonna circle it and head out the other way. Give Brasa a shot at the other car.”

That turned out to be almost a wholly unnecessary plan. The second car suddenly jerked to a halt, stalled, its bumper torn off by Brasa’s hand. The wheels skidded across the asphalt, the back axle definitely cracked.

“He’s got them,” was all she said as she watched him do the same all over again.

“Roger that.”

“Shut the fuck up,” came from Seth.

Lilah’s laugh was cut off when she caught movement on the horizon. Dark shapes rushed forward at a dizzying pace, clearing land and zeroing in on the semi as it slowed near the garage.

“You’ve got incoming,” Lilah shouted, turning and running towards the stairs.

Knowing they were going to need backup, she hustled downwards, one hand on the rail to keep balance. She barreled through the door and into the garage. Richie had pulled the semi past the entrance so that he could back in. She could see the parking lights as they flashed at the back.

Lilah rounded the cab, waving her arms and pointing. The brothers peered through the windows, then hopped out, their eyes turned towards the approaching horde. There were maybe fifty or sixty of them, their pounding footsteps loud enough that they echoed in the space of the garage.

“Culebras?” Seth asked.

“Yep,” Richie answered, pocketing his glasses, “Been a while since we’ve had a good fight.

“Yes. It. Has,” Seth enunciated clearly, shrugging off his jacket and pulled his pistols from their holster. Then, to Lilah, “First sign of trouble, you run. Richie and I can handle ourselves, but you run. Got it?”

Taken aback, it took a few seconds for her to respond, “Duly noted, boss.”

He nodded, just once. Richie moved to stand beside him, fangs out, a knife in one hand. The horde continued to approach, moving as a singular undulating mass that had Lilah wondering how they were going to taken them down.

And then one caught fire. Then another. Then another. Like a line of flailing matches, they burst into flame from one side over to the other until the whole front line was slowly disintegrating into ash.

“That’s new,” Seth drawled, using the barrel of a gun to scratch at the back of his head.

Lilah’s lip curled as she watched, wondering if it was the sunlight. The ones that weren’t on fire were pretty well covered up, not an inch of skin showing. Every one wore a hood or mask. They moved around their thrashing comrades, running with singular purpose towards the semi. Lilah palmed her gun, holding it in front of her in preparation to take aim.

The herd shifted, swaying wildly to one side, more exploding into bright orange fire. As they neared, Lilah could see a single dark figure moving among them. Brasa. She’d never really seen the extent of his power, he’d never been particularly flashy when he fought. Now, he was using it to casually extinguish their enemies. No thought. Just action. A turn of his hand and another group became nothing but ash.

Efficient. Casual. Violence.

Widening her stance, Lilah raised her gun, readying to fire. The group was close now, but not close enough that she trusted her aim. Next to her, Seth popped off a few rounds, catching one in the shoulder and stomach. The writhed until they, too, burst into flame.

Bouncing on his feet, Richie vaulted into action, a snarl sounding from deep in his chest. Lilah called after him, but he either didn’t hear or ignored her completely. Both were equally plausible.

“What an asshole,” she murmured, adjusting her grip on her pistol.

“Yeah,” Seth said, “But he’s our asshole.”

“He is,” she responded, finally squeezing the trigger and clipping a culebra in the side as they raised their fist to knock Richie across the face.

Smirking, Richie crouched and spun, slicing open their throat. Their skin burned in with the open wound, blood spurting towards the sky.

It went on like that, until Lilah’s clip was empty and Seth holstered first one gun, then the other—until Brasa moved into the center of the pack and set the whole thing ablaze, Richie ducking out of the circle of fire just in time to singe his coat.

The dust scratched her eyes, the wind blowing it all around the entrance of the garage. The sun beat down on them, the scent of burned flesh and earth filling the air. Lilah wiped sweat from her brow, adrenaline pumping in her veins. She looked to Seth, who was casually reloading his guns from a stash of bullets in the floor of the semi cab.

“Is it over?”

He looked to where Richie and Brasa were walking towards them, Richie’s confident swagger juxtaposed with Brasa’s quiet assurance. Neither of them looked wounded, the dregs of their victory crunching beneath their shoes.

“I think so.”

Lilah nodded, holstering her pistol. She only just managed to keep from pulling Brasa into a firm hug, glad for his safety. He touched her hand as he passed, his eyes looking her over for injury. The bond was open and pulsing, she could feel the excitement of a battle won as it flowed between them. He was strong. He was proud. He was victorious. Lilah could feel the residual power emanating from him, a tingling that signaled that she was in the presence of a greater being.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” she asked with a smile.

Brasa shrugged, “What’s life, if you can’t show off once in a while?”

Rolling her eyes, Lilah turned back to the brothers, one of which was dusting ash from his coat. The other stood with his hands on his hips, looking at the aftermath.

“Well, that was fun,” Seth chirped, “And by ‘fun’ I mean that I never want to do it again.”

“I don’t know,” Richie said with a smile, “Its good to shake the rust off every once in a while.”

Seth frowned, “Rust? Who’s rusty? Not me. I’m well oiled.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, turning her attention to Brasa, “This is going to go on a while.”

“I can see that,” he replied, squinting at the two arguing brothers.

It did, indeed, go on for a bit, until Seth shoved playfully at Richie, moving to the back of the semi, “You’re gonna have to do a little heavy lifting. Not gonna back this ass up to the loading dock.”

Brasa pulled out his cell phone, texting, “We will take care of it. Your payment should be in the account within twenty four hours.”

Seth cut him a sharp glance, “Yeah. Okay.”

From the back of the truck, he hauled a pair of large duffel bags, the content weighing down the length until it sagged in the middle. Dropping both at Lilah’s feet, Seth stepped back with his hands in his pockets.

“Got you something,” he said, “For the occasion.”

Curious, Lilah knelt near one of the bags, unzipped it. She peered inside, looking up at him with a smile, “Thanks. I can use something like this.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, “Thought so.”

Zipping the bag back up, she slung it over her shoulder. Brasa leaned down and snagged the other bag, shrugging it into place.

There was a moment of awkward slience, and then Seth licked his lips, eyes on the horizon, “You lied to me.”

There was no use in prevaricating.

She nodded, “I did.”

“For months.”

“Yes,” she confirmed, “Can you understand why I lied?”

Seth was silent long enough that Lilah feared the bridge between them had been burned irrevocably. She hefted the bag a little high on her shoulder, not sure if she had the words to mend their relationship.

“I was mad—maybe still am,” he said eventually, “I thought we trusted each other.”

“I did,” she responded quickly, “I do. I knew you would be mad.”

Seth rolled a shoulder, “I know. I’m sorry for yelling.”

“I’m sorry for not saying something sooner.”

Richie, who had been watching the exchange with interest, slipped his glasses back on, “Apologies all around. We good?”

Lilah waited for Seth to give an affirming nod before making one of her own. This would be awkward, but she was glad she hadn’t stayed behind and left the question of what would happen between them unanswered. They could maybe be friends again, if not partners. She was grateful for that. Her friends were few and far between—pretty much just the group standing around her, sans one. It would be hell to try to start over, nearly impossible to tell anyone about what her life was really like. Lilah didn’t even know how she would start that conversation.

“You never called, or sent a text,” Lilah prompted gently.

Seth’s mouth worked upward in half a smile, “Lost my phone. Same number, though. Just send me something, and I’ll save your info.”

Exhaling in relief, she looked around at the aftermath of what basically amounted to a ‘squabble’ in their book, “Anyone know where this came from?”

Richie followed the path of her gaze, “Three guesses. First two don’t count.”

“Benny,” reverberated between three distinct voices.

Lilah looked to Brasa, “What do we do?”

He sighed, “Finish it.”

“You get everything you need?” Seth asked.

Brasa nodded, “Only just. I’ll make sure this is delivered where it needs to go. And then I’ll make the trip.”

“I’m going with you,” Lilah pronounced evenly.

Without hesitation, Brasa acknowledged and accepted it.

“We’ll tag along, too,” Seth added, “Given what I’ve seen here, you might need the backup.”

Again, Brasa acknowledged and accepted.

Richie pulled out his lighter, the silver case spinning between thumb and forefinger, “Guess we’re getting the band back together.”

***

Later, after having spent hours working on the logistics of rationing their latest blood stores, Lilah lay in bed with Brasa in their underground home. She was reading through the notes she’d made on the book of bonds. The actual book had been lovingly added to Brasa’s collection, set amongst the other books in his office. She might one day pull it out again, for nostalgia.

The conversation with Kate in Iceland had stuck with her, nagging at her in the quiet moments. When she’d first read through it, Lilah had noted the passages on changes that occurred post-bond, but had (possibly naively) assumed that it would be primarily mental.

The word ‘fortify’ was used several times in varying contexts. Brasa, himself, had used it, leading her to believe that this was part of standard indoctrination. The question was: what did it mean?

Frustrated with the ramblings of her own written thoughts, Lilah set them aside. Next to her, Brasa was reading a Grisham novel. He’d been doing so quite serenely, unbothered by the shifting attention she’d been paying to first her notebooks, then her phone, and back.

Lilah looked at him, wondering if she should interrupt. He sensed her gaze, and sent her a sidelong look. A second later, he was slipping his forefinger between the pages and resting the book on his stomach.

“Ask your question,” he prompted, no bite in his tone.

Lilah laughed, her hand tracing over her forehead self consciously, “Its just something Kate said.”

“What did she say?”

“That she had stopped sleeping, stopped eating—like a normal person, I mean.”

His brow lifted, “And?”

She shrugged, “I just...hadn’t really noticed the same for me. She asked, you know? If I had been feeling the same way.”

“And you’re worried about it.”

Hesitating, she said, “Not worried, exactly. Its just...there have been so many surprises this year. So many. I wondered if this was going to be another of them.”

Brasa’s gaze was steady, his mind clearly processing what she’d just said. He leaned over and set his book on the nightstand, rolling to his side to face her.

“You took the news of your immortality poorly.”

She frowned, “I think my reaction was pretty normal.”

It was his turn to frown, “You ran away for three months, would have been gone longer if I hadn’t come to get you.”

Jaw working, Lilah kept her silence, looking away.

“Regardless,” Brasa waved his hand, “I thought it would be better to let you get used to a long life before we explored...other changes.”

“What other changes?”

He signed in resignation, “As Kate said, decreased appetite for food and sleep.”

Lila’s frown deepened to a glare, “Is that all the changes I can expect?”

Brasa’s mouth parted on an inhale as he thought, “Increased strength, healing, night vision—all things that might characterize a Xibalban.”

She drew back, confused, “I’m becoming...Xibalban.”

His brows quirked, “You are ingesting my blood, it is changing you. I’ve mentioned this before.”

“Mentioned, but not explained,” Lilah retorted, annoyed by the false equity. Then, “You said you had given me all the information you could. At the cabin, you said it.”

Brasa was silent for a while, looking a little lost for words. Lilah crossed her arms, unsure if she wanted to ask more questions. She didn’t like feeling constantly surprised by new aspects of the bond. On the other hand, Lilah like to be informed.

“How fast does it happen?”

“Every time you feed, the changes will grow.”

Lilah tried to count the number of times she’d taken his blood, and how much.

A hand rested on her arm, warm and entreating, “I have kept this in mind. I’ve limited your exposure as much as I could while assuring myself of your safety.”

Taking his hand in hers, Lilah asked, “So, I’m—what—super powered now.”

He smirked, “Perhaps not. But, you’re certainly stronger than the average human.”

Casting him an amused look, she said, “I could actually win a fight now.”

Brasa ticked his head to the side, “Possibly.”

“So, what you’re saying is that I could give you a run for your money now.”

He outright laughed, “No. Not even close.”

“Sure,” she drawled.

His expression turned mischievous, “Care to make an attempt?”

Intrigued, Lilah leaned in and asked, “What did you have in mind?”

Brasa looked down the length of her body, eyes lingering on her bare feet, “Put on your shoes.”

He waited until she’d rolled from the bed and was digging through her sock drawer to stand. Lilah pulled on her socks, stepping into her tennis shoes and tugging at the backs to fit them over her heels. Out of reflex, she snagged a hair tie and pulled back her hair.

“You gonna tell me?”

Brasa’s smile was not unkind, but there was something in it that screamed ‘predator’, “You’re going to run. I’ll give you a head start, and then I’ll follow.”

Smirking, Lilah responded, “What? Through the house?”

His smile widened as he moved past her out into the hall, taking a left. Lilah followed him, her brows rising as he stepped up to the door that had always been locked and turned the knob. It opened for him, only darkness ahead. Lilah moved to stand beside him, peering into the black.

As her eyes adjusted, shapes formed—carved rock, smooth stone.

“You built the house connected to the caves,” she murmured.

Beside her, he nodded, “I’ll give you ten minutes head start.”

“How long to I have to elude you to win?”

“An hour.”

She shook her head, “Half an hour.”

“Forty five minutes,” he volleyed.

“Forty.”

At this, he leveled at stern look at her, “Forty.”

Lilah looked up at him, her eyes narrowed, “You’re serious.”

“I am.”

Pursing her lips, she turned her attention back to the cave, “Alright.”

Brasa touched her arm, leaning into her space, “Don’t get lost.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, but stepped into the cave, one hand on the wall to maintain her balance.

Behind her, Brasa said, “Ten minutes,” and closed the door.

The darkness was a physical thing, pressing in on her from all sides. Lilah’s heart picked up, anxious. She took a deep, steadying breath, and started walking. And then she jogged. And then she ran. Lilah didn’t stop to question the fact that she could still see the path before her in the darkness, though it strained her eyes. She also didn’t stop to think about where she might be going.

Exhilarated, Lilah picked up speed, taking turns at random, until her legs burned. It was only when she stopped to rest, leaning against the wall of the cave, that she realized she’d reached a dead end. There was no telling how much time had passed. And, not wanting to make it too easy for him, she doubled back and picked a new path.

Unable to keep a sprinting pace, Lilah slowed to a jog. Her legs still burned, and it took a couple hundred yards for her to realize that she was jogging uphill. In the distance, there was light. It was dim, a blurry shaft of discolored blue slicing through the ceiling to touch a ramp of stone beneath. She headed for it.

The climb was steep, and she had to lay on her belly for the last few feet as the rock met the ceiling. Shifting to her back, she scooted until she was looking up through the hole to the darkened sky above. Dotted with stars, it stretched over her entire field of vision. Lilah stared at it for far too long before she reached up and tried to figure out how she was going to angle her body out of the hole.

Hands grabbed at her ankles. Startled, Lilah kicked out with both feet. She caught him across the body, but failed to move him or gain enough traction to propel her up and through the hole. Unceremoniously, she was dragged back into the dark.

The stone scraped across her back. Her voice echoed back to her, a yell that wasn’t quite convincingly scared. She was smiling, even as she slowed to a stop beneath him.

“How did I do?”

Crouched on all fours above her, Brasa smiled indulgently, “Thirty three minutes.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed, the pad of his middle finger tracing over her hairline, down her temple, and around her ear, “I wouldn’t lie about this.”

Frustrated that she’d gotten so close and still hadn’t won, Lilah braced one foot on the stone ramp, using the other to catch him at his center of gravity and push with all her might. To her great surprise, he rocked back far enough that she could get to her hands and knees. Fingers digging in, Lilah scrambled up towards the hole.

She got about five feet. Which, to be fair, was farther than she thought she’d get. He was on her, pushing all his massive weight into her back and forcing her arms and legs to collapse beneath her. All the air pushed out of her lungs, Lilah couldn’t even gasp as he pinned her down with an arm across her shoulder blades.

Just to goad him, Lilah wriggled, trying to work her hands into a more favorable position. She moved not an inch, but that didn’t keep her from grinning.

Brasa growled, the sound coming back to her in waves as it bounced off the walls. Though more savage then she normally heard from him, it hardly struck her as menacing as he might have intended. She cut off the laugh at the back of her throat, but not before he heard it. A hand grabbed at her chin, catching it from beneath and arching her head back.

“It would be a mistake to think you can overpower me.”

From any other mouth, Lilah might have been enraged enough to yank her chin out of his grasp and headbutt him in response. As it was, she could feel his amusement through the bond and knew he was enjoying the game as much as she was.

“One day,” she said over her shoulder, “I won’t have to.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded as much as she was able to, “You’ll never see it coming.”

He hummed, his lips touching her neck in a light kiss, “I look forward to it.”

“Say that again when I’m done with you,” Lilah shot back, unthinking.

At this, Brasa chuckled darkly, his hands adjusting their grip so that he could balance his body over her. More little kisses over her neck and down her shoulder until he met the collar of her shirt. He nosed beneath it, teeth scraping.

Lilah shivered, holding still while he did as he liked, her breath loud in her ears. Brasa let go of her chin in favor of pulling her shirt down over her shoulder. Lilah’s head dropped down to her chest, eyes closing.

She thought that he might tear into her clothing, pull it free from her body to get at more skin. He didn’t. Slow, measured kisses kept coming on every available inch, until he’d left no space unloved. Then, he shifted his weight behind her and pushed her shirt up and over her breasts, his mouth trailing down her spine.

Her bra snapped open, hanging down uselessly as he kneaded her breast. Brasa worked his way down her body, hands massaging over her sides until they met the waistband of her shorts. Wrists rotating, he caressed over her belly and pushed down into her panties. One hand held her steady as he teased the sensitive flesh in the crease of her thigh, a light pressure guiding her legs a few more inches wider.

Once she was in position, he slid two fingers down to her center, rubbing through her folds gently. Lilah bit her lip, focused on every movement of his hand as he explored. Firm pressure on her opening, and then he was pushing into her. A slow, careful intrusion that left Lilah breathless. She pushed to her elbows, hip rolling to get more.

He tugged down her shorts as far as they would go, pulling his fingers free to circle her clit. She whined, little tremors of sensation shaking her nerves. His other hand reached down to enter her from behind, working in concert with its counterpart to ease her towards the upswing of pleasure.

It was slow, but firm enough to keep her on edge, biting back begging words that may or may not sway him. Lilah focused on the rhythm as it picked up just the tiniest bit, focused on undulating back onto him, getting him as deep as she could. Her hands flexed on the ground below her, the scrape of the rock adding to the sensations buzzing all over her body.

Chasing the high, Lilah used what little strength she still had in her arms to push upright, letting her hips fall with the weight of gravity into his hands. She groaned, head tilted back, neck arched to the ceiling.

Brasa drew a shuddering breath behind her, and she heard him swallow. Lilah rose up with a little swivel, rocking back down with another, smaller sound of need.

It took little time for Brasa to right himself, to gain his focus back. The fingers on her clit circled a little too fast, though he held his other hand still, let her fuck herself on it as she liked.

“Is this what you need?” He asked, teeth nipping at her ear.

Lilah shook her head, reaching up high with one hand to see if she could brace herself against the ceiling. Her fingertips barely touched to rock above, skimming the surface ineffectually. Giving up on the notion, Lilah’s arm bent at the elbow so that she could tangle her fingers in his hair at the scalp.

She could feel it coming, rising up within her body, slicing through from the center outwards. Lilah fought it, forcing her body to slow down, wanting him to fill her before she came. Her mouth opened to say so, but the words came out as a long, agonized moan.

“Tell me what you need, querida,” he said, his breath fanning over her skin.

Behind her, Brasa was fire hot, the heat scoring all along her back, and inside her, everywhere he touched. She could feel how much he was holding back, the muscles of his thighs tense where she sat astride him.

“You,” she managed on a choked sob, “I need you.”

He loosed an oath, arms tightening around her. His chest expanded on a harshly drawn breath as he buried his face into her neck, “Let me make you come first, then I can—“

“No,” Lilah cut him off, “Now.”

She felt him shake his head, felt him begin to touch her in earnest, felt how close she was to cresting over the edge into orgasm. Again, she fought it. The hand in his hair clenched into a fist, pulling hard as she repeated ‘now’ to him in fierce demand.

A growl ripped from his chest. He withdrew his hand, yanking down his pants and positioning his cock at her entrance. Then, with no further preamble, he pulled her down onto him. Hard.

Lilah, already too close, felt every muscle in her body seize in blinding pleasure. It held itself aloft, suspended for several seconds until it dropped down into her cunt so hard that Lilah could no longer keep herself upright. She fell forward in a limp mass of shaking limbs, the sharp staccato of her voice sounding off the walls.

“Are you…” she heard him ask, followed by a loud hiss, both his hands finding her hips and squeezing.

He began to move, then, thrusting hard through the contractions, drawing out her orgasm as he sought his own. The movements were short, harsh, the pace picking up rapidly. Above the sound of his skin slapping against hers, Lilah could hear him grunt with the effort, swearing intermittently, until he pushed so deep that she didn’t think he could go any further. He pulsed inside her, his hips grinding against her ass, hands holding her both still and steady.

She lay like that in his hands until he pulled out. He adjusted first his own pants and then her shorts, rolling her to her back. Her hands and knees protested, the change in pressure letting blood back into them. She rolled her wrists, trying to ease the feeling.

“Are you alright?”

Lilah nodded, swallowing around the tightness in her throat, “I’m good. Just need a minute.”

As she lay there, catching her breath, Brasa massaged her legs from calves to hips, helped her to snap her bra back into place and right her shirt. He then kissed her lightly, taking her hand in his.

She smiled at him, “We should try that again sometime.”

“We should.”

Hooking a finger into the collar of his shirt, Lilah pulled him down for a deeper kiss, tongue touching at his lips in a gentle tease. At least, it started as a gentle tease. Still riding the feeling of the orgasm she’d just had and with his come dripping from her folds, Lilah pulled him closer, hands roaming his chest. Brasa leaned into her, and she could feel the razor sharp edges of his fangs, could taste the venom in his kiss.

She pulled away, breathing hard, “As nice as this is, we have a bed that is made of clouds and I would very much like to fuck you on it.”

He smiled, “Whatever you need.”

#from dusk til dawn #from dusk til dawn: the series #In the Bond

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once-upon-a-scenario · 4 years

Text

Bakugou/reader: Icarus, Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 Part 5

Katsuki won. You lost. It’s that simple- and at the same time, it isn’t.

Or: a borrowed handkerchief and repressed emotions are a recipe for disaster.

(Do you know that painful feeling when you have a *very* specific idea on how a story is supposed to end but you have no idea what happens leading up to that ending. I suffer :,) forgive me if things stop making sense until the finale, my pacing is a mess and I am very Tired lmao

Fun reading tip: in this series, whenever reader does *not* speak in italics, that is a significant piece of dialogue!

Also note for people who care: the readers in my personal writing will always be neutral in regards to gender and appearance unless you request a specific pronoun/physical trait!

-Eve) _________

It should be over.

In fact, Katsuki decides, vein throbbing in his temple as he tries to concentrate on his sums and very pointedly not look over at you and your window-side seat, it is over. You lost. You were pinned under him for fifteen full seconds. (He counted, and he knows he’s fucking right.)

“Bakugou,” Kirishima says as they walk home together in the afternoon, offering him a bottle of what looks like apple juice. “Lighten up, man! You won fair and square last week, you know. Everyone saw.”

“Who even drinks apple juice anymore? We’re not in fucking preschool,” is Katsuki’s gracious reply as he snatches the bottle. “And of course I won, hair-for-brains. I don’t need to ‘’’lighten up.’’’”

Kirishima shrugs, smiles, and drops the issue. This is one of the reasons why Katsuki tolerates him. Kirishima usually knows when he’s right about things.

(This doesn’t stop idiots like Kaminari from loudly and obnoxiously nudging him the next day at lunch when you pass by their table, “Bakugou, look, you should try and talk-“

You seem to glance towards him for a brief moment, and Katsuki, feeling ready to explode something, turns a silently furious gaze towards Kaminari before pouncing on him. Aizawa-sensei looks pissed about the disruption at mealtime and hauls them both to opposite ends of the cafeteria. Katsuki notices that you’re not watching the commotion, ignoring it in lieu of speaking with Deku at his table.

He seethes. Shitty nerds of a feather flock together, apparently.)

___

And life goes on.

Katsuki has better things to focus on. Like crushing Deku, once and for all, or making sure nobody gets ahead of him in anything else. Cleaning out more dust bunnies from underneath his bed. Picking apart Kaminari and Ashido’s stupid puns. Trying to tutor Kirishima, because Kirishima asked for it- it’s a shitty waste of time but whatever, it’s not his fault if hair-for-brains *wants* to get shouted at for his abysmal grades. Katsuki’s fully willing to oblige. Days turn to weeks, people forget about you and him and your momentary little rivalry (if it could even have been called that).

You’re there, in the background, like you’ve always been. Quiet. Distant. You still get good grades and you still walk home alone. It’s annoying, but Katsuki reminds himself that he won and to start giving a shit now would be losing, plus your grades may be high but they’re not as high as his, so he learns to ignore you. Everything’s fine, actually. Every day, you sit at your desks on opposite sides of the classroom and he sometimes glances at you over his notebook, thinking about how shitty it is of you to wear your uniform in that particular way where it looks just an inch too crumpled around the collar. He wants to reach across the room and straighten it out because goddamn, if it’s not getting on his nerves-

But alright, he reminds himself. He doesn’t give a shit what you choose to do with your life.

Probably the only drawback to this approach is that…you don’t seem to give a shit about the sparring match, either. You just talk a lot with Deku, which is fucking horrible to witness.

Whatever.

___

Later, he contemplates exactly how he ended up in this situation. There are a series of steps to it:

1. He challenges you

2. You walk away

3. You become unable to walk away

4. He wins

5. Everything’s over

6. Until it’s not

Because here he is, walking home on Kirishima’s right. And here you are, walking along on Kirishima’s left. He has no idea how you got here. You’re talking with Kirishima about some shitty new video game, the one that’s had ads for it playing incessantly on the TV since last month. Katsuki grits his teeth.

You’re talking solely to Kirishima, looking only at Kirishima. Blatantly ignoring him.

What the fuck.

He’s about to open his mouth, give you a piece of his mind, because who gave you the goddamn right to lose and then go walking around as if you own the place, he didn’t even know Kirishima was dumb enough to hang out with you, of all people- but then you’re at a crossroads, and you turn, looking apologetic.

“Are you going that way?” Kirishima asks brightly, gesturing to the path branching out to the left. You nod.

See you tomorrow, then, Kirishima- Bakugou.

“Fuck you,” is right on the tip of Katsuki’s tongue, but then he takes another look at you. There’s something weird about your expression- it’d looked pretty damn chipper until a few seconds ago, and it still kind of is, but something’s off, too. He can’t put his finger on what it is, exactly. Maybe it’s just how your smile suddenly seems to have gone a few degrees cooler; then again, since when has your smile ever actually looked like one, and since when has he cared what your smile looks like in the first place?

This pisses him off, actually, but for some inexplicable reason, instead of flipping you off, he just shrugs and glowers and asks “since when do you walk home this way, anyway?”

I’m actually visiting a friend.

You shrug a little and offer him a short nod of farewell, before waving at Kirishima as you turn down the left path and begin walking away.

Katsuki stares for a moment, then whirls around and stalks down the opposite fork in the road, Kirishima hot on his heels. “Hey, Bakugou- wait!”

“Catch up, hair-for-brains!” he hollers back, kicking aside an empty can in his way. Fuck this, honestly. Fuck you for being a confusing little shit.

He cleans out the dust bunnies again as soon as he gets home, attacking them with a fury that makes his father look vaguely disturbed while his mother curses loudly.

______

The nice thing about trying to forget about something is that sometimes, the world just seems rigged against you. Apparently the idea of moving on with your life is just that repulsive.

Or rather, Aizawa-sensei seems to have some sort of fucking problem.

Why the fuck else would he keep making Katsuki spar with you? There’s some bullshit excuse about how your quirks are compatible, sure, something-something-Reflection-repels-explosions-and-prevents-injury, but that’s irrelevant. Initially, Katsuki’s pretty sure he can enjoy crushing you again. That should take care of this lingering uncomfortable feeling.

And he does crush you again. Several times, in fact. He counts the seconds whenever he has you pinned and they’re never below fifteen. He actually lands a proper punch a few times, too, which effectively cancels out the smarting in various parts of his body from where you’ve pushed him back with a few sharp kicks of your own.

You always retaliate with a nod and a bow and a thanks for the sparring session.

He wonders if it would somehow physically hurt you to acknowledge that it’s anything more than that. You probably know. There’s no way you’re that stupid. He knows you know, and you know he knows you know, and he knows-

Goddammit, he didn’t ask for this migraine.

Maybe it’s a testament to how much this is messing with his head that the next time you thank him, he feels compelled to not flip you off. He glares at you instead, wiping a dash of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and answers with a don’t know what the fuck you’re thanking me for, I just beat your ass, didn’t I?

The handkerchief you offer him for his split lip is insulting enough; the smile that accompanies it could be described as almost wry. Amused, or maybe faintly mocking. And honestly, he can’t understand what the hell you find so funny right now, but then his blood pressure stops mid-skyrocket as he realizes: this is the first time your smile has looked anything but docile and smoothly polite.

Is that actually progress- has he actually chipped away at you- or is it just you being an unreadable asshole?

There’s really no way to tell.

Later that afternoon, he slams the front door when he arrives home and stalks straight to his room, where he spends the rest of the day stuck between intervals of furious studying and furious pacing.

(He finds your handkerchief in his pocket later that day, still slightly smeared with dried blood-

Somehow, he doesn’t hurl it straight across the room, and the reality of that is infuriating to think about.)

_______

“Hey man,” Kirishima eyes the white cotton peeking out of the pocket of Katsuki’s baggy uniform pants, his brow furrowed, “isn’t that-?”

“None of your damn business, is what it is,” Katsuki snaps in reply, shoving it all the way back in.

If you’re not looking for the thing, he doesn’t need to give it back. Like hell if he’s going to be seen carrying it around. It’s only in his pocket because he didn’t want a bloody, clearly-not-his handkerchief lying around where his parents could find it.

He meets your gaze across the classroom during break, right before you saunter outside with Deku at your side, chattering excitedly about some shitty nerd thing. You smile at him. He’s sure it doesn’t reach your eyes.

It’s not like you even asked for him to give it back, anyway.

_______

Weeks pass. Months, maybe. He fights you again, and again, and somehow, this becomes routine- part of life at U.A, which is nowhere near what he expected from this goddamn school. He ends up sitting next to you for projects where he’s not assigned with Kirishima. It sucks ass. Your gaze is still glassy and cool and you still like to play the pacifist, and you’re way too good at every assignment which just makes him want to fight you again (and you, of course, will fucking decline because you don’t fight for sport).

(He still hasn’t given your handkerchief back. You still haven’t asked for it- but he’s getting real tired of finding it in his pocket.)

At some point, he starts greeting you back in the mornings when you bow your head in his general direction. It’s an instinctive reaction. He has to catch himself to stop from nodding back.

______

The sports festival comes and goes. You drop out halfway through with an average-but-commendable performance, and Katsuki tells himself that this is did not add to his rage by the time he was facing the icy-hot bastard, that he was not somehow incredibly frustrated by the feeling that you, the wimp who’s never come close to winning a single match against him, should have gotten farther than that. The thought that you could’ve won a medal makes no sense, but it spins around in his head all the same.

He runs into you in the hallway later on, and you nod briefly. You’re holding a bunch of tissues to your bleeding nose. Looks almost comical with your reserved, high-and-mighty air. Katsuki feels too angry at his own win to sneer, but then you just offer him a smile.

Congratulations, Bakugou. You never disappoint.

You walk off with Deku again that day and Katsuki watches. He becomes suddenly aware that there’s still a handkerchief in his pocket. He very firmly feels nothing about the fact that he could offered it to you. You’re a U.A student, you can take a fucking nosebleed, and he doesn’t care.

______

“Bakugou,” Kaminari announces one day while they’re playing video games at his place, along with Kirishima, Ashido, and Sero- “it’s nice to see you’re actually friends now. I thought you were gonna kill each other at one point. Funny how things change, yeah?”

Mina and Sero emphatically agree and Katsuki, cursing vehemently, contemplates smashing the console.

_____

It’s not as if he asked for this to happen. It’s not his fault that fate or destiny or bad luck or whatever bullshit you want to call- whatever it is, it keeps throwing you at him.

Kirishima’s absent on this particular Friday, sick from a cold, and Katsuki’s walking home alone because the other three idiots decided to go to the arcade and he doesn’t have time for that shit. Not that he cares. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets and looks ahead, squinting at the figure walking some ways in front of him.

...U.A uniform, crumpled shirt collar. Goddammit.

You’re on the phone, and as he draws nearer, he can hear you humming in agreement with the person on the other end; you laugh a little, suddenly, and that catches him off guard. He didn’t know you were actually capable of laughter. It’s a light, quiet sound, more of a brief puff of air than anything else, and it’s a shitty excuse for a laugh, but whatever. Typical.

In a moment, he’s caught up to you, and you look up mid-laugh and meet his gaze. Your eyes widen just a fraction- the first time you’ve looked like that since the first time he sparred with you. It’s no longer very satisfying, though. Not when you’ve since made up a million different ways to screw with him.

...ah, I’ve just run into a classmate. I’ll call you later, Takeo-kun. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.

(Your tone is oddly sweet.)

There was no need, actually, because Katsuki doesn’t fucking care what you do or who you call and he’s certainly not walking home with you when there’s not even Kirishima here to use as an excuse for...anything. You joined in before to talk to Kirishima, not him, and that’s the way things are supposed to be.

So he has no idea what possesses him to remark, a touch snidely but not as sharply as he wanted it to be, “Who the fuck’s Takeo-kun?”

(He doesn’t care. He shouldn’t be asking. Dammit.)

Oh. You look serene as you slip your phone back into your bag. My boyfriend. He doesn’t go to U.A.

Boyfriend?

Katsuki wonders what kind of bastard would willingly date you- you with your glassy eyes and infuriatingly mild manners and habit of smiling at everything in that overly nice way that looks like a facade. He tries to imagine it. Holding hands with you. Walking with you.

...which he’s already doing. Fuck it. Now he feels sick and the headache’s coming back; he really didn’t have to imagine you in a romantic context. The mental images are banished in an instant but they’re still there in the back of his head and it makes him want to punch something.

But you turn your smile to him.

So, do you have any idea what to do about Present Mic’s homework? I’m assuming you know more about it than I do.

____

He does end up walking home with you, talking about homework, which is fine, impersonal enough that he can still scowl at you, important enough that he can momentarily forget about the mental images from earlier. Good. If he has to walk with you, then this is how it should be.

And the conversation goes unfortunately smoothly. This close, his eyes keep straying to your crumpled shirt collar. Most of the stuff you bring up is relevant to lessons. He talks quickly, furiously, meticulously quoting details so you remember exactly how far ahead of you he is in all of this, so that you acknowledge defeat, something you still haven’t done since that first sparring session.

But you just nod along.

At the crossroads, you turn to the left again, offering a parting nod of the head.

Katsuki can’t help it. “Off on a damn date or something?’

(And it’s not an unreasonable assumption to make. You were calling your boyfriend minutes ago, and this isn’t your usual route home. Maybe you actually meant to meet this Takeo bastard that last time with Kirishima, too.

If the thought makes Katsuki feel sick again, that’s probably just the very idea of you in a romantic context.)

You tilt your head a little. I am, actually. Thanks for keeping me company on the way.

And with a gesture of farewell, you turn down the fork in the road. Walking away.

Katsuki grits his teeth.

“Hey!”

You stop momentarily. He inhales, and the words come tumbling out.

“Don’t just assume that we’re close now because I beat you a few times, asshole- I wouldn’t have ever walked with you if not for hair-for-brains! We’re not fucking friends!”

Silence. He’s breathing a little heavily. You stare back at him, the stillness in your eyes unbroken.

Then you smile faintly.

Something about it is reminiscent of that time after the sparring match- the telltale twitch at the corners of your mouth.

“We don’t have to be, you know.”

____

At home that afternoon, he absentmindedly reaches into his pocket. The handkerchief is still there.

He’s no longer sure how angry that makes him.

#BNHA #Bakugou Katsuki #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #Katsuki x reader #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x you #Katsuki Bakugou x reader #BNHA reader insert #series #gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader insert #Mod Eve #phew this was long #(er than I intended)

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noona-clock · 4 years

Text

The Risk - Part 2

Genre: Fighter!AU

Pairing: Park Seo Joon x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 | Words: 3,430

Well. That had certainly been an interesting evening.

Besides the fact you had served a group of seven almost-too-rowdy guys for two hours, you had received an extremely generous tip from one of those almost-too-rowdy guys.

And... a phone number.

You’d been working at this restaurant for two years, and while you had received a couple of phone numbers before, the giver had never actually asked you before leaving it.

He had also never been as good-looking as this Park Seo Joon guy.

Seriously, this guy was amazingly good-looking. You’d noticed it when you’d first gone to his table, of course, and he had seemed to only get more handsome as the evening went on.

And when he asked if he could leave his phone number?! You kind of felt like you were on a hidden camera prank show or something...

But being incredibly handsome and leaving very bountiful tips was all well and good. Did that mean you would actually contact him?

Since his table had been your last of the evening, you were able to take time on the bus ride home to really and truly think about it.

You certainly weren’t the type to call or text random guys if they gave you their phone numbers. If you did decide to contact Seo Joon, it would be a first.

Then again, you couldn’t remember a guy as handsome -- quite frankly, hot -- as Seo Joon giving you his number. To say you weren’t the least bit interested in him would be a lie. You couldn’t see a face like that and not be interested. Or at least physically attracted.

(You were both.)

Just before the bus arrived at your stop, you remembered one of the other guys at his table had said something at the very beginning of the night. They had been celebrating something, and he had specifically gestured to Seo Joon and called him a winner.

He had won... what was it again? An AMA championship? AMM? AAM? MAA?

The bus rolled to a stop, and with a sigh, you clutched the strap of your bag and stood up to get off.

Whatever it had been, he had won a championship, and they had been celebrating.

But... wait. Hadn’t that guy also kind of acted like he was surprised you didn’t know who Seo Joon was?

Well, there was only one thing you could do if that was the case: you had to Google him.

As soon as you unlocked the door to your apartment, hung your bag up in the entryway, and kicked off your shoes, you shuffled into your bedroom and collapsed onto your bed. You then wasted no time in sliding your phone out of your pocket and opening the Google app.

“Park... Seo... Joon,” you muttered to yourself as you typed his name in the search bar. “Go.”

The first result was a Wikipedia article, and your eyebrows raised.

Oh. There was a Wikipedia article about him? That was pretty legit, right?

You clicked on the link, your eyes scanning over the summary at the top of the page. “Park Seo Joon is the current World MMA Champion -- MMA, that’s it! He began his career in 2015 and quickly made his way to the number one ranked spot where he has remained ever since. Damn. Number one?”

So... in this MMA thing, he was the best? Out of everyone else?

Well, how many other people were there? And what exactly was MMA?

You opened up another search tab on Google and typed in MMA, though it didn’t take long for you to discern it was an acronym for Mixed Martial Arts.

Oh. So, he was a fighter.

Well, to be honest, that wasn’t exactly something to recommend him. You disliked violence of any kind, and the sight of blood made you feel incredibly faint.

You kept digging, however, because the whole thing had still piqued your curiosity.

On the official MMA organization website, you were able to find out that there were over 1,000 fighters around the world, and the last World Championship had been in Los Angeles... with over 50,000 people in attendance and over 1 million people watching on TV.

Holy...

You quickly navigated back to his Wikipedia page and scrolled down, scanning through his background and memorable moments in the ring, though your eyes instantly froze when they landed on a picture of him after winning one of his matches.

Because he was shirtless.

And...

Oh my god.

You... had never seen a better body in your entire life.

After realizing you were staring at your phone screen with your jaw hanging wide open, you blinked yourself out of your little trance and went back to Google one more time.

You clicked on the Images tab and began to scroll through all of his picture results.

And your eyes grew wider by the second.

Shirtless. Shirtless. Gold medal. Championship. Trophy. Shirtless. Gold Medal. Shirtless with gold medal. Trophy. Championship. Trophy. Trophy.

Holy shit.

So... this guy was definitely a big deal.

And you just had one question.

And you now felt bad for him. Whether or not he would admit it, he was a big deal, and most of the people in his life probably treated him that way. Based on his words, though, he would likely prefer to be treated like a normal, regular, non-championship-winning guy.

If you hadn’t been nosy and Googled him just now, he would still be a normal, regular, non-championship-winning guy to you.

So... if he wanted to be treated that way, then you would be the one to do it.

You ended up messaging back and forth until you physically couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, and this pattern continued on for the next week. You would text Seo Joon the second you got off work, and you would keep texting until you had to force yourself to go to sleep.

You didn’t really talk about anything in particular, to be honest. He mainly asked you how your day went, and then the two of you would end up talking about something completely random like the best form of potato (which is clearly cut into long, thin strips and fried) or the movie you would forever connect to your childhood or what strange, nonsensical dreams you had the previous night.

Since you got home fairly late each night and were too exhausted to stay up past midnight, you simply hadn’t had time to delve into anything deeper. You were having fun talking to him, though, and you figured he must feel the same way since he always replied within minutes.

When your shift ended that Friday, you began your evening as you had the last five or six days: you got on the bus, found your seat, slid your phone out of your bag, and sent Seo Joon a text.

His next message, however, was less typical.

Once you’d gotten off the bus and fished into your bag for the key to your apartment, you sent Seo Joon a quick message letting him know you were home. He read the message almost immediately, but... he didn’t reply.

Your brow furrowed softly as you approached your front door, blindly trying to fit the key into the lock as your eyes still focused on your phone screen.

A phone call suddenly came through, and you almost jumped because you were so startled. But then you realized... it was Seo Joon?

Hesitantly, you answered the call and lifted your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” Your heart was now beating a mile a minute, and your stomach did a little flip when you heard him answer you back.

“Hey,” he said before quickly adding, “I know you said you don’t like talking on the phone, but I didn’t want to do this over text.”

“...Do what?”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

Oh, god.

You quickly wracked your brain for your work schedule, and you almost let out an audible sigh of relief when you realized you were, indeed, free.

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly.

“Would you wanna go out?”

“Yes,” you repeated without skipping a beat.

“Okay, great. We don’t have to keep talking on the phone.”

You broke out into a smile, a soft chuckle escaping through your lips. “Okay,” you answered. “But I appreciate that you wanted to ask me kind of but not really in person. Thank you.”

You could actually hear Seo Joon smile (which was a little weird since you hadn’t known you could hear a smile but whatever), and when he spoke, his grin was very apparent in his voice. “You’re welcome. You... don’t want to keep talking on the phone, do you?”

“It’s really nothing personal,” you assured him, realizing you were still just standing on your doormat with your key inside the lock... but you hadn’t actually turned it.

You snapped to attention suddenly, hastily unlocking your door and stepping inside your apartment.

“I’m just an introvert,” you continued. “And shy. I’d rather have time to process my thoughts and write a reply back to you so I don’t say something I’ll cringe about for the next forty years because I didn’t have time to think it through.”

“I can understand that,” Seo Joon laughed softly. “All right, I’ll hang up now.”

“Bye,” you said as you hung your bag up on the coat rack in your entryway.

You heard Seo Joon take a breath, and you waited to hear him say goodbye back... but then...

“Just so you know, it’s really nice to hear your voice. Okay, bye.”

Click.

And your heart exploded.

Not even a minute after Seo Joon had hung up, he had texted you, telling you he would take you to any restaurant you wanted -- all you had to do was name the place, and that’s where your date would be.

Of course, you had internally freaked out (in a good way) because he had called it a date and now there was no uncertainty. You hadn’t thought he was just asking you to hang out, but still. It was nice to know for sure.

You had sent him the name of your favorite pizza place, one you didn’t get a chance to go to that often because -- well, you didn’t get a chance to eat out that often. Your schedule and budget didn’t quite allow it. But you’d refrained from including those particular details in your message to him.

Seo Joon had offered to pick you up, but you ended up convincing him to just meet you there -- he had only agreed on the condition that he could take you home, and you had accepted easily enough.

So, the next evening, you found yourself arriving at the pizza place just a few minutes before your agreed-upon meeting time. When you walked in through the front door of the restaurant, you were prepared to greet the host and let him know you were waiting for someone... but Seo Joon was already sitting on one of the couches next to the front podium.

“Hey,” he greeted, his lips curving into a smile.

You never would have guessed that one single word -- a word as simple as ‘hey’ -- would knock the breath out of your lungs.

But when it came from someone as incredibly tall, handsome, and buff as Seo Joon... it wasn’t that surprising just one word from him left you breathless.

“Hi,” you replied after gulping down a lump of anxiety in your throat.

Before the two of you could exchange any more conversation, the host grabbed two menus and led you back to one corner of the restaurant, seating you at a small booth for two. You murmured your thanks, and Seo Joon waited until you slid into one side of the booth before taking his seat across from you.

“How are you?” Seo Joon asked just as you opened the menu.

Oh, right. That would have been polite to ask. Apparently, seeing Seo Joon in person again had turned your brain to mush.

“I’m fine,” you answered, glancing up at him with a small grin. Which... was a mistake. The glancing, not the grin.

He was just so handsome, it was intimidating. You truly had no idea why he would be interested in you. Your looks were not model-worthy while his definitely were.

“How are you?” you asked, trying to avoid eye contact so you wouldn’t stammer over your words or say something idiotic.

“I’m great,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “Just been training all week.”

“Oh? Do you have a... match? Coming up? Is that what they’re called?”

“No, not for about a month,” he told you with a tiny smirk.

“But I guess you always have to train,” you pointed out.

Seo Joon nodded, and you glanced up again to see he was now perusing the menu.

Oh, god. He was just so... so... so perfect. You had thought so earlier this week when you’d seen him at your restaurant, but you hadn’t really understood. You hadn’t imagined you would ever in a million years go on a date with him, so you hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it.

But now... sitting across from him... watching him read a freakin’ menu...

All of a sudden, you felt the word vomit bubbling up, making its way up your throat until it spilled from your lips.

“I’m really sorry,” you blurted out. “About when I first texted you and said you were a big deal and all that and questioning why you would want to give me your number.”

Seo Joon’s brows raised slightly and he shifted his gaze to look at you.

“Oh,” he began, his voice soft and somewhat confused. “Oh, no, it’s -- it’s okay.”

“I had just Googled you,” you explained. “So, I read about all of your accomplishments, and you’re just, like, really handsome, so I was just wondering why you would be interested in me. But, to be honest, I would still have been questioning it even if you were like... a grocery store clerk or something.”

Seo Joon chuckled lightly and set down his menu so he could see you better. “What are you even talking about?” he asked with an expression of amusement.

“I’m talking about your face,” you answered bluntly. “Your face is really nice.”

Unexpectedly, Seo Joon’s cheeks began to turn pink, and he quickly looked away from you as his lips formed into a shy, adorable smile.

Oh, wow. You never imagined he could be this adorable. Plus, the fact he was acting so shy spurred on your more playful, teasing side, so you said, “I’m serious! You’re definitely, one-hundred-percent, the best-looking guy I’ve ever been out with.”

Seo Joon shook his head, and you assured him one more time that it was most certainly the truth.

“How about we talk about you?” he requested with a soft laugh. “I can’t just Google you and find out all about you.”

“This is true,” you replied with a soft sigh. “But even if you could Google me, the result would be, like... one link. I’m really quite average.”

Before Seo Joon could reply, your server appeared to take your drink orders, and you ended up ordering a large pepperoni pizza, as well.

“How about you let me be the judge of that?” Seo Joon said once the server had left to go place your order.

“All right,” you chuckled. “Well, you know I work at a restaurant. I’ve been working there for two years, ever since I started Grad School.”

“Grad School?” Seo Joon repeated with raised eyebrows. “What are you studying?”

“Creative Writing. I got my Bachelor’s degree in Literature, but then I realized I actually liked writing more than reading.”

Seo Joon shot you a look which clearly said you were wrong. “Two university degrees is not average,” he told you with a small shake of his head.

You simply hid a grin and lifted your shoulders into a shrug.

“I mean,” Seo Joon continued. “Some people don’t even have one college degree, and you’re getting another one? That’s a big deal.”

A soft chuckle escaped through your nose, but before you could say anything in reply, someone else approached your table. You thought it was the server again, but when you looked up, you realized... you had no idea who it was. It was some random lady and a young boy with a very awestruck look in his eyes.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you,” the lady began, looking incredibly guilty with a deeply furrowed brow. “My son is a huge fan, and he was wondering if he could...?”

Seo Joon quickly looked over at you, and you returned with a little nod and a grin.

This was weird.

You’d never in your life experienced this before, and it was weird. Kind of cool, actually, but still weird.

Seo Joon’s lips transformed into a smile then, and he reached for the pen and paper in the young boy’s hand. “Of course,” he murmured. “What’s your name?”

“Jonathan,” the boy answered. “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

“Just train hard and you can be,” Seo Joon answered as he scribbled his name on the piece of paper.

After he handed it back to the boy, the mother then held up her phone. “Can we get a picture, too?”

“Absolutely,” Seo Joon murmured, and the boy stepped up to him, turning around to face his mom.

The lady snapped a couple of pictures, and they both thanked Seo Joon profusely before the boy practically skipped back to his table.

“You just said getting two degrees was a big deal, but I’m not the one with fans,” you said quietly, a smirk tugging at one corner of your lips.

“Sorry,” Seo Joon replied with a guilty smile.

“No, it’s fine, I didn’t mind at all. Does... that happen a lot?”

“Not really a lot, but... maybe twice a week?

“Compared to me who has been asked a grand total of zero times for an autograph and a picture, that’s a lot,” you laughed.

“Anyway,” Seo Joon grinned. “Back to you. You’re studying creative writing?”

“Yeah, so I won’t really be making much more money than I am now as a server, but...”

“But you love it.”

A soft smile appeared on your lips, and you lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Yeah, I love it.”

“I can tell,” Seo Joon declared with a somewhat curious look.

“Is that so?”

He nodded, crossing his arms over the tabletop and leaning toward you. “I can tell by the look in your eyes. The way you look when you’re talking about it is the way I feel about fighting.”

Obviously, you were now blushing like mad because Seo Joon was looking right into your eyes. But you still managed to speak somewhat normally when you said, “So, you’re one of the lucky ones, then.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You’re good at what you love to do.”

“Well,” he began after taking a bit of a deep breath. “It’s always come pretty easily to me. When I first stepped into a martial arts studio, it just felt... natural. So, I kept on doing it. I guess I really just love it because it’s easy... which makes me sound like an incredibly lazy loser.”

“It doesn’t,” you assured him with a laugh. “I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who truly loves hard work and making an effort at something. We all like things to be easy.”

Seo Joon looked at you for a moment, and it got to a point where you almost began to squirm in your seat under his gaze. But then he broke the silence and said, “You know what else is easy?”

“Hmm?” you hummed with raised eyebrows.

“Talking to you.”

You had no idea you needed to let out a breath, but that’s exactly what you did after he said that.

“Actually... I feel the same way,” you replied.

And you were a little surprised to discover that was true. You were shy, and meeting new people was always a bit of a struggle for you.

But talking to Seo Joon? You realized you weren’t trying as hard as you usually needed to. You didn’t feel quite so awkward or like you were saying the wrong thing.

It was... Well, you weren’t quite sure what it was. But you were willing to keep working to find out.

Part 3

#kwritersworldnet #park seo joon scenarios #park seo joon imagines #park seo joon au #park seo joon fluff #park seo joon fanfic #kdrama scenarios #kdrama imagines #kdrama au #kdrama fluff #kdrama fanfic #kdrama actor #park seo joon #park seo jun

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raccdog · 5 years

Text

UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS (PART 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

(Quick notice: I’m not tagging as many people from now on as I was doing before because it takes so long -previously tagged will keep being tagged don’t worry,- if you want to keep up with the updates please just follow me or the tag #unhealthy coping mechanisms or #UCM. Just know that your support is super appreciated and motivates me a lot! I always try to check all notes so don’t be shy and leave a comment, critique, theory, or simply ask, my asks are open! Thank you again for all the support guys. Now onto the juice)

Fuck Hawkmoth. That was the only thing Chat Noir was able to chant inside his head. It was late in the evening and the sun had already come down, the Parisian lights having lit up hours ago.

Of course there had to be an akuma today, at this hour, just as he’d been in the middle of a date with Kagami. Well, not exactly a date date. Sure he found Kagami attractive -not because of her similarities with Ladybug, he didn’t have a type,- and wanted to spend more time with her. But he couldn’t bring himself to do datey stuff like kissing or embracing each other. He wasn’t ready. He was sure he’d get into it as time went on. That’s how it was for everyone right? They started dating and then developed feelings. At least that’s what he hoped for.

The date was probably ruined by now anyways, having had to ditch Kagami in the cinema’s cafe after the alarm had went off.

A flash of red in the corner of his eyes caught his attention, making his heart do somersault inside his chest. He hated how much power she hold over him. He hated how his emotions did pirouettes because of her. He hated his own traitorous heart the most, for he was trying, really trying hard to move on, but it seemed fruitless every time, a piece of him seemed like it would always belong to her.

He landed on a rooftop, facing the Louvre Museum’s plaza, where the akumatized villain seemed to be causing chaos. Ladybug landed next to him five seconds later.

“Hey Bug-” He bit his tongue. “Hey Ladybug,” he corrected himself. He had to constantly remind himself that pet names weren’t appropriate anymore.

“Hey Chat,” she answered softly. He turned to look at her in concern. Ladybug didn’t use that tone of voice normally. Her mask covered most of her face, but he could still make out the exhaustion in her eyes and pale cheeks.

“You ok Ladybug?” He questioned worriedly. “I’m fine Chat I’ve just been…busy.” She said dismissively. He couldn’t help but frown. He knew his lad- Ladybug like the palm of his hand. She was hiding something and not confiding in him, once again. Ladybug keeping secrets, what a surprise. So shocking. The thought came to him involuntarily, so quickly and full of bitterness he couldn’t stop himself. He needed a break. This week’s events had affected his humor too much. He shook his head, trying to dispel some of the sour mood he found himself in. He knew it was petty of him to think that way. Ladybug wasn’t at fault here, even if he’d like she’d rely more on him.

Another crash and more screams made both heroes focus in the akumatized victim again.

“Ready to kick some akuma butt Ladybug?” He smiled, hoping that his voice sounded more cheery than he felt. A loud boom as he went to stand up made him loose his balance, almost toppling over the side of the roof. He looked at Ladybug once again. She was pulling a weird face.

“I think we’ll need help for this fight.” She admitted.

“But who, Master Fu is MIA and he’s supposed to have the miraculous!”

“Not all of them,” Ladybug started running in the opposite direction. “Distract the akuma Chat, I’ll get help!”

“If it isn’t Dragon-girl!” Chat Noir called when he saw Ryuko landing behind Ladybug. He dodged a shot from the akuma and back-flipped until he was next to the other two superheroines “So what do we do now?” He asked, twirling his baton to repel another shot directed towards them.

“You two try to get closer and keep the akuma distracted,” Ladybug announced. “I’ll call my Lucky Charm from afar and then just follow my lead,” she commanded, zipping away with her yo-yo. Chat turned to see Ryuko, her eyes in complete focus. He had to contain a chuckle. Kagami was always so serious. He did felt bad for ditching her before, he’ll have to apologize. “Looks like it’s just us now Firecracker,” he joked, jumping to the side to evade an attack. Kagami whirled to look at him, surprise and shock written on her face. Shit, he had called her with a nickname. “Don’t call me that ever again,” she growled, narrowly dodging another beam. He couldn’t do it anymore. She was just so much fun to tease. “Sure thing Firecracker,” he smirked, looking at her directly.

“Chat look out!” Then suddenly everything was bright.

“What were you thinking you dumb cat!” Ladybug cried, dropping beside him, akuma purified and the Miraculous Cure performed. “What could possibly be so distracting that you don’t dodge a direct attack to the face?” She screeched, pulling lightly at her pigtails in rage.

He opened his mouth to defend himself but Ryuko spoke before he had the chance to say anything. “Apparently calling me Firecracker,” she growled, brows contorted in rage. Ladybug whipped her head around to look at the dragon hero. “He called you what now?” She asked incredulously. She then turned to glare at him, her eyes seething and grounding him against the concrete tiles on the floor.

“How can you be so irresponsible?” She reproached. “You could have been badly hurt! And for what? Just so you could flirt with someone?” She continued to berate him while pacing. “Also I’m pretty sure Ryuko doesn’t appreciate you calling her pet names just like I told you to stop before!” Chat Noir felt his own eye twitch at her, rage building quickly inside of him.

The heroes the noticed the growing crowd surrounding them. It wouldn’t be long before the press got here.

“Notre Dame in 5 minutes,” she growled to him before facing the other heroine. “Come on Ryuko, follow me,” she directed, whipping out her yo-yo as they both jumped away.

Chat Noir landed briskly on the church’s tower, his previous anger still flaring. When he saw the figure of Ladybug touch down he marched towards her. The look on her face told him he probably should be careful, that he was treading dangerous waters, but at that point he couldn’t care less. The pent up frustrations from the week too much for a hot-headed teenager. He stopped in front of her, so close he could feel her ragged breath on his face as he towered over her. He could tell she was angry too, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. He was angry too.

“What were you thinking,” she started, not moving even as he stood so close. She wasn’t one to back away after all.

“What’s the matter Ladybug,” he sniped. “Jealous?” He saw with satisfaction as her nostrils opened and her eyes narrowed. “You know that’s not what I-”

“I can call her or any girl whatever I want!” He interrupted. “No you can’t if it’s gonna affect your concentration!” She exclaimed. She shoved a red-clad finger in his chest. “Besides, Ryuko already has someone she’s romantically involved with, you shouldn’t even-”

“Does she now,” He cut once again, knowing it drove her up the walls whenever he did so. “Why should I believe you? To me it seems like you are jealous and making things up,” He accused with snide. He was lying through his teeth, he knew. After all, the person Ryuko was involved with was himself. But he couldn’t help it. The satisfaction he found in causing her to react was too great. He knew he’ll probably feel guilty in a few hours after the rage haze had dissipated and he’ll cry himself to sleep but at this point in time he couldn’t think straight.

“I am not! Goddammit Chat I’ve told you time and time again to stop calling me nicknames-”

“Oh I’m stopping alright!” He sneered “I’m not calling you anything other than Ladybug ever again!” He chuckled humorlessly as he hissed right in her face. “You aren’t special anymore, Ladybug.”

He realized he may have acted too cruelly when he saw her flinch, stepping away from him as if he’d electrocuted her. The rapid movement made him catch a whiff of a strange smell coming from her, but he didn’t ponder on it too much as he looked directly at her. Her expression was unreadable and Chat Noir couldn’t decide if that was better or worse. He wanted to apologize but the stubborn pride inside him rebelled at the idea. The sensible part in him knew he had gone too far and wanted to rush to her side, retract what he’d said and hug her.

He didn’t have time to choose on what to do, because she turned around and neared the edge, ready to go, yo-yo in her hand.

“Get some rest, minou,” was the only thing she said, softly, before she zoomed away, leaving him alone on the tower’s roof, her voice weighing as heavily as his heart felt.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

TAGS UNDER THE CUT

@delacz1234 @rocketspunch @shionshetrr @supertomboyprincess @mcheang @clawloversims @kindastupidbutkindanot @the-no-one-in-the-corner @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @starberry-mina @vivilakitty @vixen-uchiha @superrrpc @two-faced-biatch @schrodingers25 @marichat00 @i-have-social-skills-jackass @elspethshadow @yin-390 @silvergold-swirl @jjustjoy @arthxrmxrgan @bowser14456 @literallytryingmybestbutok @interobanginyourmom @deerestaurelia @akanague @laureena18 @muggleborn12 @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @marinahrasauce @random-reblogs-daily @internet-lesbian-mom @varikasnuori @everyusernameisalready-taken

#unhealthy coping mechanisms #UCM #miraculous ladybug #miraculous spoilers #miraculous ladybug spoilers #ml season 3 #ml spoilers #ml loveater #ml love eater #ml miracle queen #ml finale #my fic #miraculous ladybug fic #I like to make my favorite characters suffer ok?#Part 4 coming very soon

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beanfic · 4 years

Text

Simple Mistake - Ch.2

Pairing: Tyler Joseph x reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: aftermath of drinking (so throwing up lol), some good ol’ angst and i think that is it?

Author’s note: chapter 2! i hope you guys enjoy and i’m sorry for making tyler a big ol’ cheater cheater pumpkin eater.

Chapter 1 || next chapter

You barely had a chance to process what just happened before a wave of nausea hit you, and you moved as quickly as your legs could take you towards the restroom. You slammed open a stall and spewed your guts, which was mostly just alcohol, into the toilet.

“I’m so stupid,” you muttered. You sat on your knees in front of the toilet, and while you were sitting still, the ground beneath you was moving. You knew you had to stand up and go find your friends to take you home, but you weren’t sure if you were capable of having that fine of motor skills.

“You doing okay?” a voice chirped from outside of your stall.

“Yep,” you snapped back.

“We have to pee, get off the floor!” another voice shouted. You responded back with a groan as you lifted yourself off the floor, flushing the toilet. You opened the door and rushed out of there, forgetting about the fact that you didn’t even wash your hands.

You pushed yourself through the busy crowd, not caring about personal space or anything. Your only goal was to reach either Josh or Y/F/N. The faster you moved, the more the floor would spin underneath you, and it was difficult for you to even walk straight.

“Y/N?” You spun around quickly at the sound of your name, but the floor that your feet were once on was quickly heading to your face. Right before you landed on the floor, you collided into arms that held you up. “I got you.”

“Josh?” You looked up at the familiar face.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” his words slurred together, but you still understood what he was asking.

You shook your head, “I want to go home.”

“Okay, let’s find Y/F/N and Tyler.”

“He’s g-gone,” you stammered. Your arm was wrapped around Josh’s shoulder as he supported you. You watched him wave Y/F/N over.

“What happened?” they asked as they moved some of your hair out of your face.

“I’m not sure but I think it’s time to go home. I’m not sure where Tyler went. Can you call an Uber while I call him?” Josh was instantly sobering up as he knew that he needed to take care of you.

“Yeah, c’mon Y/N, let’s go outside and get some fresh air.” They took your arm so it was wrapped around their neck, and their hand wrapped around your waist. You took slow and steady breaths, making sure you didn’t puke again or pass out.

It was around 2 am and the street lamps were the only source of light on the empty street. The rain was slowly falling on your face, but it felt good after you were stuck inside the hot and crowded bar.

“What happened?” they asked you. You couldn’t even lift your eyes to look at them.

“He kissed m-me.” Once you spoke those words, the tears came instantly. Y/F/N’s arms were around you quickly, rubbing small circles into your back.

“What do you mean? Tyler did?”

You nodded, “he asked me t-to, and I d-didn’t stop him. He has a girlfriend, I’m an i-idiot.”

“You are not an idiot, you both were drunk.”

“I t-told him.” You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

“How you feel?”

“Yes, and then he kissed me!” you shouted with anger. You weren’t sure which emotion you were supposed to feel right now, as your brain felt like a jumbled mess.

“Y/N, shh, it’s okay. You can talk to him tomorrow.”

“Is everything okay?” Josh finally came outside and met up with you two.

“The uber should be here in like ten minutes, did you get a hold of Tyler?”

Josh nodded, “He took an uber home and is back at the apartment. He didn’t tell me what happened though.”

“He kissed me,” you blurted out.

“What?” Josh whipped his head around to where you were standing. He noticed your swollen, red eyes and came over to give you a hug.

“I told him that I like him and he kissed me,” you repeated once again, but this time more calmly. You were sobering up quickly, most likely because you had thrown up almost all the contents inside your stomach.

“But Jen,” Josh whispered.

“You don’t think I know that?” you shoved Josh away, tears once again forming.

“Y/N-”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You won’t be able to do anything about it tonight,” Y/F/N spoke. “We need to just go home and we can figure stuff out tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” you sniffled.

The Uber finally arrived and you laid on Y/F/N’s lap in the back, while Josh took the passenger seat.

“I don’t want to go home,” you muttered.

“Hm?” Josh turned around.

“I don’t want my Mom to see me like this and I don’t want to tell her what happened.”

“You can stay at the apartment and sleep in my bed, I can take the couch,” Josh suggested, knowing that Y/F/N didn’t have room.

“But Tyler.”

“He always sleeps in, and you can leave tomorrow morning.”

“Or you guys could talk about it tomorrow as well,” Y/F/N advised.

“I don’t ever want to face him again,” you closed your eyes tightly.

“It’s okay,” Josh reached back and rubbed your shoulder.

Once the Uber reached the boys’ apartment, you were almost sobered up. It was around 3 am, and all you wanted to do was go to sleep. You followed Josh into his apartment, knowing that Tyler was probably asleep in his room.

“Feel free to sleep in my pajamas, they’re in that drawer,” he nodded towards his dresser. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Josh. Goodnight.”

“Night, Y/N. Sleep well.” He started to close the door but opened it back up again. “You know, Y/N, sometimes drunk actions can reveal sober thoughts,” and then he shut the door before you could ask him what he meant.

Was he talking about Tyler’s sober thoughts? Was he saying that Tyler also shared the same feelings for you? But he was with Jen? You rubbed your temples, you really needed to get some rest before the hangover kicked in.

Josh’s clothes were huge on you, but you didn’t care. You shuffled under the comforter and closed your eyes. The memory of Tyler’s lips kissing you replayed itself over and over. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, everything, wouldn’t leave your mind.

You felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be, and you so badly wish Tyler didn’t react the way he did. Did he kiss you only because him and Jen were fighting, or did he kiss you because he shared the same feelings? Was he going to be upset at you in the morning? Would this ruin your guy’s friendship? Questions swirled in your brain until slowly you drifted out of consciousness.

“Tyler,” you mumbled in your sleep. “I love you.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Tylers POV

“Shit, shit, shit” I muttered under my breath as I speed-walked out of the bar, not even looking behind me. My lips were still tingling from the kiss that I just shared with Y/N. Once I was out in the fresh air, I took my phone out and scheduled the closest uber to take me to the apartment.

I was upset at myself, not for kissing Y/N, but for doing it drunk. I didn’t understand what was going on with me. Obviously, I was drunk, but was it my true feelings coming out? I thought I had gotten over Y/N a while ago, especially when I started dating Jen.

Jen.

Her face flashed in my brain. I should call her, but then again maybe I shouldn’t. It was just one kiss. One harmless kiss. Right?

The uber picked me up and I stayed silent the entire ride. Mostly because I was starting to feel nauseous from all the alcohol that was swirling in my stomach, but also because I knew if I spoke I would most likely end up crying.

I thanked my driver and rushed inside the apartment. I needed to get out of this shirt and tight jeans. The shirt that Y/N said they liked. Their voice wouldn’t leave me head.

“I like you.” They said those words directly to me. Yes, they were drunk also, but what if they meant it. What if I blew it all that time ago with being oblivious.

My stomach growled, and I remembered that I haven’t had that much to eat. It was almost one, but I decided to have some cereal. Most of the milk ended up on the counter as I drunkenly poured it into the bowl. Right before I took my first bite, my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Tyler? Where are you?” It was Josh.

“I’m at home,” I slurred.

“Why did you leave without us.”

“I needed to leave.” I was being short with him, but I didn’t feel like explaining that I just kissed my best friend when I also have a girlfriend.

“Did it have to do with Y/N?”

“Why are you asking that?” I snapped.

“They ran out of the bathroom crying, literally fell into me.”

I gulped, “I don’t know. I’m going to bed, be quiet when you get home.”

“Tyler, man.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Josh.”

“Okay, goodnight Ty. Please be safe.”

“I will, you too. Goodnight Josh.” I hung up the phone and buried my face in my hands. I felt horrible knowing that I made Y/N cry, but I panicked and did the one thing I was good at. Running away from troubles.

I knew that I needed to sleep. I already was going to be extremely hungover in the morning, and I was going to have to talk to Jen, and Y/N most likely, and figure stuff out. I quickly finished the cereal, already sobering up from the food inside my stomach, and headed up to bed.

I quickly fell asleep with one person on my mind. Y/N. The kiss was on replay throughout the entire night in my dreams, and I woke up with one person on my mind as well.

“Y/N,” I mumbled as I slowly opened my eyes, the pain instantly rushing to my head. I groaned and flipped away from the bright sun that was shining in from the window.

I reached over to grab my phone, noticing that I had five missed calls and ten tex messages from Jen. I swore under my breath and opened them up.

Jen: Tyler?

Jen: are you home?

Jen: are you okay?

The rest of the messages were like that as well. I ran my hand through my messy bed head as I typed out a reply.

Tyler: sorry, i just woke up and my phone died last night.

Her reply was almost instant as if she was staring at her phone waiting for me.

Jen: don’t lie to me, Ty. that’s BS and we both know it. your phone was on.

I groaned and locked my phone. It was too early in the morning to deal with her, and my head was absolutely killing me. I decided that taking a shower was probably the best idea. I walked out of the hallway towards the bathroom that Josh and I share, and looked across at Josh’s room. I thought about seeing if he was awake so I could tell him what happened last night, but I decided against it.

The shower was exactly what I needed to make my body feel better physically, but my brain would not stop replaying the moments of last night. Every time I thought about the kiss, my heart would flutter and my stomach would feel like there were butterflies in it.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that I still had feelings for Y/N, despite my best efforts of trying to get over them. The next step was to figure out what to do with these feelings. Was I supposed to break up with Jen? Was I supposed to forget about Y/N?

“Tyler?” a knock on the bathroom door broke me from my train of thought.

“What?” I shouted as I turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

“I made eggs if you want any,” Josh’s voice came from outside the door. “Also, Y/N is asleep in my bedroom.”

“What?” I shouted as I slammed open the door.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Tag list: @nonsenseverses @patdsinner33 let me know if anyone else would like to be added!

#tyler joseph #tyler joseph fanfiction #tyler joseph x reader #twenty one pilots #twenty one pilots fanfiction #twenty one pilots fanfic #tyler joseph imagine #tyler joseph fanfic #tyler joseph fluff #tyler joseph angst #tyler x reader #josh dun #josh dun fanfiction #josh dun fanfic #tøp fanfic #tøp fanfiction #beanfic #simple mistake

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kaeyas-beloved · 4 years

Text

The Lost & The Pained {Chapter 14 ~ Pictures}

The Lost & The Pained Chapter Masterlist

Summary of last time: (Y/N) along with Midoriya, Iida and Todoroki were admitted into hospital after facing off against the Hero Killer Stain. Although she won't outright admit any details, Mido and Todo can tell that (Y/N) is hiding something.

Amono and Dabi had a moment on the roof of the hospital before getting called back to base. Dabi reminisced about old times before actually leaving.

Now: (Y/N) has just made it back home and is about to get an earful from her explosive mother and brother.

Also! Just a reminder and warning that this book does have elements of blood, torture and drugging. In this chapter, a somewhat graphic description is written. I'll have bold exclamation marks for when it starts and when it ends in case some wish to skip it!

"GOD DAMNIT AGAIN!?" Katsuki and my mother screamed, their expressions and tones making it seem like they were clones of one another. In all honesty, they basically are.

"Calm down!" I say, cool as a cucumber. I've been through this routine before and hopefully if I'm calm it'll mellow out the two blonds. "I told you, it was just a little backstreet throw down - nothing to worry about and nothing I couldn't handle..."

"YOU WERE ADMITTED TO THE HOSPITAL!!!" Mom shouted. I swear I could see her hair turning grey faster by the second.

Things were getting heated and when I took a step back both of the angry humans advanced a step forward.

"Hey now..." you're a rock star - I MEAN, "it's all part of the job description!" Their eyes practically bulged out of their sockets with that comment.

"WHA- WHY YOU!!"

3rd Person POV

While (Y/N) stood before her fuming relatives, Masaru trying to calm the situation down, The League of Villains were plotting some more bullshit to enact.

"We already have plans for the summer, so why are we discussing more for the girl?" Shigaraki rasped, slowly scratching his neck, red eyes glaring at the group of males seated together at the bar.

Two nights ago Airaki called up the entire League, though at the time some members were unavailable, so the meeting was set back a few days.

Airaki spared a glance around his small group of close comrades before eyeing Shigaraki once more, a glare present within his cold forest green eyes. He never liked the way Shigaraki worked, finding that sometimes there were too many gaps in his plans or simply just the way he acted pissed him off. Yet he still went along with him, seeing as at the beginning of their agreement it seemed the League was the only way to get back at (Y/N) and what she did to them.

"We are all well aware of future plans," Airaki sneered, unsheathing a dagger from a strap around his thigh and started to idly play with it, voice evening out for his next words "but until then I figured adding a little bit of... excitement might rage the growing fire even more..."

To Shigaraki it seemed like too much work, why go through more for a plan that's already chock full of twists and turns? Yet he still heard them out, something in the way the greenette spoke catching his interest.

Amono stood when the signal to go on was given, making his way to the cabinet he always kept locked. With a turn of the key the doors opened and he reached in, retrieving a valuable item.

"We decided that releasing these to those she's closest to, plus the media, would defiantly have an effect" Airaki continued, his smirk growing at the thought of what the contents within the container could do.

The face of the villain group stopped his scratching for a moment, taking the outstretched metal box from the kinetic quirked male.

With just one peek, Shigaraki was already on board with this bonus plan.

First Person POV

I walked down the sidewalk to UA, another day of teaching about to start. It was unusually quiet for a Friday morning, but who was I to complain?

Rounding the corner I nearly ran into a camera man who was only one of many men and women bombarding the school gates. Briefly I wondered if something had happened or if they were just there for All Might again. Nevertheless I still had to say something to the guy I nearly rammed into.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to knock into you!" I apologize, offering a sheepish smile. The guy turned around a smile of his own.

"It's quite alright- (H/N)!"

Shit- they were here for me weren't they!?

"(H/N)? Where!?" They were!!! But why!?

Instantly the domino effect kicked in and everyone in the crowd surrounding the front entrance erupted into shouts. And me? I was swarmed by those closest to me. I couldn't make out any coherent voice since all the sounds mingling into one loud noise but it consisted of a boat load of questions.

As I fought off the crowd of news reporters something rough wrapped itself around my waist, freaking me out. I took a quick look at it and found that it was a familiar cloth scarf and before I could do anything I was yanked up off the ground. Following the line of cloth once I landed on the lip of the school wall, I was proven right that it was Aizawa who got me out of that mess.

"Thanks..." I said with a short nod, surveying the mass of people that pooled below us. Camera men pointed their cameras up and took shots while reporters held up mics, still spitting out questions so fast that I got a headache.

"Come on, let's head inside..." the ravenette sighed, pulling me down to the ground by the back of my shirt. I ended up falling ungracefully on my ass, a comical oof escaping me. From behind me a barely audible snicker sounded from my long time friend and my eyes narrowing into a playful glare despite him not being able to see it.

"Don't think I didn't hear that!" The lazy man seemed to kick his ass into gear because his pace quickened ever so slightly, almost like he thinks he can get away from me.

Well he can't apparently because I caught up to him in three seconds flat...

As we walked in silence down the halls a question stared to gnaw at my mind and it wouldn't go away. So I did the most logical thing and asked it.

"Shota, why are the students staring at me?" Dark coloured eyes spared me a glance before they returned to in front of him, his ever present neutral expression deepening into a slight frown.

"You didn't see the news?" He answered a question with a question. My brows furrowed.

"No, I was in a hurry this morning and didn't have time to sit down and watch. What does that have to do with the staring though?" Aizawa sighed again - obviously I'm missing something here! Before he could answer me we entered the 1-A classroom where all 20 students awaited us, with something to tell us too apparently.

As I parted from Aizawa's side to my usual window spot Yaoyorozu stands and calls out to me, stopping me in my tracks. Her tone was what caught me off guard, she sounded... distressed? Anxious too perhaps. Gazing over my shoulder my eyes meet her's for a moment until they trail down to the object in her hand.

A photograph. Two photos to be more specific. Although the picture part of it wasn't facing me I could still see that something is written on the back in thick, red marker.

"Bakugou-san... this morning many of us received these in the mail... they're rather graphic and... and they're..." she trails off, eyes down casting like she's unable to meet my (e/c) eyes anymore. Now that it's been said, as I scanned the rest of the room many did in fact have their own pair of pictures laying face down on the desks. Not everyone had them, but a good three quarters did.

Wordlessly I waved my hand, motioning for the teens to bring me them. One by one they did until I had a relatively thick stack, all of them having a single word inscribed on it's back. As I collected them I was able to get a better look at what was written, some said LIAR, other's said TRAITOR or PATHETIC.

When I had all of the pictures in my hand I met the eyes of Aizawa. I'm not sure what I was looking for when I gazed at him, maybe an answer to what these mean? All I got was a nod, telling me all I needed to know, just look. Hesitantly beginning to turn each and every picture over I went through the pile slowly, the content just growing gruesomer by the second.

!!!!!!

It started with pictures of me chained to the wall, some have me baring my teeth as I tug on the metal restraints in an attempt to get at the one taking the picture. Some just show me with a lifeless expression as I sat against the wall.

After they became images of me beaten and bruised, the chains moving from being nailed into the wall to somewhere above and out of shot. The clothes I wore were torn in various places and died red with my blood. A couple of them have it where I was barely standing and a few had me on my knees, head bowed with my arms still raised high above my head. In these there was a pool of crimson at my feet that only seemed to grow in size. One had it where the wall behind was painted in my blood.

Dark purple and blue bruises coloured my exposed neck and arms along with thin and thick cuts, blood ran in a tiny streams down my nose, out the corner of my mouth and from somewhere within my hair line.

!!!!!!

It was a never ending collage of my demise.

With each photo I went through, placing them face down on the desk I stood closest to, I finally reached the last one. By now my hands have already started shaking, my legs felt like they would give out at any second and I felt hot tears of years of hurt and frustration barely being kept at bay.

I didn't flip this one over, it was different than all the others that came before. Instead of just a single word in red it was a sentence written in black.

She can't be trusted

One shaky inhale later and I turned it over. What I was met with was no image filled with agony and pain, but a picture of evil intent in the eyes of the muse. It was me, I was the muse of this picture, like all of rest, only this one has me dressed in clean clothes, no injures marring my face or neck. My eyes, though, were not their usual (e/c) but a glowing red and the smile I wore had no joy, instead it held so much malicious intent. It was the smile - no - the smirk, the look a villain would have and it made me sick.

"I think I'd be best... if all of you forgot you ever saw these..." my voice was barely above a whisper when I finally spoke, yet everyone apparently could hear me loud and clear.

"Forget!? (Y/N)-chan we can't forget something like that!" Midoriya cried, standing from his seat. In front of him Katsuki glared at me, a snarl twitching again his lips.

"For once I have to side with Deku. You expect me to not think about this after seeing pictures of you chained and laying on the ground bleeding!?"

Slowly my eyes trailed up from the plastic within my hands, scanning the entire room. Many nodded in agreement to what was said.

"I know it'll be hard but I need you guys to. After all, this doesn't concern-"

A ringing noise pierced the tense atmosphere and for a moment I thought it to be the bell until coming to the realization that it was actually my phone. Dropping the current argument I pull my phone out, an unsaved number displayed at the top. It didn't have to be saved into my phone for me to know who it was though, it was a number I was familiar with and knew by heart.

Not wanting to waste a second I tap the green answer button, lifting the device up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"I see you've received our little gift~" a low but sweet voice rang out, the response given setting me on edge. If he knew to call at this very moment then that means he can see and potentially hear me.

"I wouldn't show any signs of distress if I were you doll... wouldn't want to scare the kids now would you?" a different but still undeniably masculine voice said.

It was Airaki and Touy- Dabi, both of them sounding like they were having a blast toying with me. In the distant background the click of what I believed to be computer keys could be heard and I briefly hoped it was Amono. Briefly.

Something shifted within me. Before, I would let my emotions take control and cloud my judgement, but now that I've had a run in with all four of my old friends a small voice that's grown so loud in my mind is telling me to get it together. That they are not who I use to know and that if I wanted to do anything about this situation, to maybe even fix it somehow, that I have to use my head now more than my heart.

And not let lingering feelings get in the way.

"What do ya need?" Playing it like it was someone I'm acquainted with, which really isn't that far from the truth, I replied casually.

"That's a good doll. We need you to meet us at the location we send you in exactly one week at three. Don't be late." As soon as the blue fire quirked villain ended the call a text notification popped up under a different, yet still familiar, number - a location and time attached with it.

Later, I tell myself, I'll look at it later.

Silence hung in the air, breaths held as those around me waited for something to happen, maybe for me to say something. Across the room Aizawa stared at me, onyx eyes holding a single question, who was on the other end of that phone call?

"Like I said, it's best of all of you don't worry about these photos..." I muttered, "I've got to go, don't wait up on me..."

"(Y/N)!" The monotone voice of Aizawa shouted but I merely waved at him over my shoulder, pushing past. I have things to do and people to see.

I realize now that maybe I can't do this alone, I can't find those that I've lost twelve years ago without a little help.

Just whose help do I need exactly?

~~~~~ Well, it's back! While writing this chapter I was reminded of how much I love this plot that and I'm really happy to be writing this story again :)

Sorry if this chapter isn't the best, I still gotta get back into the swing of writing for BnHA again.

Thank you to those who are still reading this despite the couple month gap, you guys are awesome (even if there are only a few of you) :)

See ya in the next chapter!

#tl&tp #bnha x reader #oc x reader #amono x reader #amono kaminari #villain amono #villain airaki #airaki x reader #airaki midoriya #kiko x reader #villain kiko #kiko kirishima #touya x reader #dabi x reader

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all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Swallow [Pt.1]

Chapter: Still Yours

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You come back home after being gone for five years, and everything is just as you left it.

Warnings: Nothing but angst for this chapter but series: Possessive, jealousy, heavy angst, violence. More to be added.

A/N: This is sort of a continuation of my one-shot ‘Home.’ It’s really more of an expansion on that idea I guess. Same warnings as before. Some possessive behavior from Bucky. He’s still extra soft. Send me love???

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!***

February 14th, 2008

James Buchanan Barnes was going to be the death of you.

The way he looked at you. That little smirk. Those pretty blue eyes watching your every move. It made your insides quiver and your heart flip in ways you didn’t know existed outside of terribly written romance novels. You only wished he didn’t do it in the middle of class so you could concentrate on something besides those butterflies in your stomach.

“It’s not just penguins you know. Did you all know that a swallow, once they have found their perfect match, they mate for life and if something ever happens, if they get separated from each other or one of them is injured, they will never mate with another.” The sound of the bell cut Ms. Hill short, and she frowned. “Ah, crap. Well, we can pick this up in our next class. Enjoy the rest of your Valentine's and don’t forget your essays are due in a week!”

Everyone picked up their bags and scurried out of the classroom, you included.

“Sweetheart, wait up!” Bucky shouted, hot on your heels. You tried to bite back the smile on your face and seem annoyed with his persistence. He has been flirting with you and asking you out for nearly a year now, but you’ve watched as he’s dated girl after girl and it never gets passed one date. You weren’t interested in being just another one night to anyone, but especially not to Bucky. The way you felt about him was bigger than one night, and you didn’t think you could survive being cast aside once he got bored.

Besides, if you got involved with him, it wasn’t just him was it? It was everything that came with being him and that included his father’s club.

It didn’t take much for Bucky to catch up to you. He gently grasped your elbow and crowded into your space until your back was flush against the outside wall of the gym. “You know I was thinking while Ms. Hill was talkin’.” He dipped his head down whispering, “You’re my swallow. The second I laid eyes on you. I knew you were it for me and I’d never find another.”

You swore your heart was going to burst right out of your chest and into his hands. Why did he have to say sweet things like that when they were just a line. It wasn’t fair how weak he made you with so little effort on his part. You sagged against him letting him support your weight, but your face remained blank.

“You do realize that every guy in our class is using that same line right now.” You managed to squeak out.

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m the only one that means it.”

“Come on.” He whispered as he ran his nose along yours, grinning when he heard your breath catch in your throat. “Go on a date with me. Please? I don’t wanna spend forever alone, baby.” You knew you were going to regret this, but there was something about him… and you couldn’t shake it.

For whatever reason, you couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” you breathed against his lips. “One date.”

He pulled back before your lips could touch. Your first kiss wasn’t going to be against some smelly ass gym if Bucky had any say in it. “I’ll pick you tonight at seven. I’d wear jeans if I were you.” He gives your hip a gentle squeeze. “We’re going on a ride, baby girl.”

Your eyes widen. “But – but! I’ve never been on the back of a motorcycle!”

He smirked. “Good. I like being your first, pretty girl.”

You were such a goner.

--------

For the longest time, this blacktop that raced under you felt like if heaven was anywhere, it was right here with him. Golden rays warming your cheeks, your chest pressed against his harsh leather, the brisk wind making your toes curl. With every turn, your heart would beat a little faster as your arms tightened around his waist as if he was the anchor that kept you safe and grounded. The squeal that would leave your lips every time he sped up, the deep chuckle and gentle kiss to your wrist that followed every single time.

His heartbeat was tethered to yours, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

That very same blacktop that held some of your favorite memories was holding every ounce of your pain and heartbreak, bringing it out from the dark place you had it buried. Every inch closer to home brought out another piece of heartache you thought was tucked safely away where it was unable to cause any more damage.

It seemed he could still hurt you even when he was no longer holding you.

You had hoped the sight of your old home would bring you some kind of happiness, but it only felt like another dagger twisting deeper and deeper into your chest. Part of you hoped that all those sweet memories would override the bad, but deep down you knew those good memories never stood a chance. The only thing that brought a smile to your face was the dork standing out front, waving like a complete moron for all your neighbors to see.

Clint jumped off the porch and ran right towards you scooping you up the second you were within arm’s reach. He spun you around a few times before letting you land not so gracefully back on your feet. “Shit I missed you, bug. Been way too fucking long.” “I talk to you every day Clint.” You replied as you walked back to unlock the back of your jeep, slipping your phone in the back pocket of your jeans as your eyes scan the street for any sign of that black and chrome motorcycle. God must be on your side because there was just some old black SUV parked across the street.

No bikers around. Besides Clint.

Clint rolled his eyes as he followed you around to the back of your jeep. “Not the same as you being here and actually getting to see you.” You shook your head and kissed his cheek before grabbing some boxes. It was only a matter of time before he was brought up. You just wanted to get your things inside, shower and maybe finish off the bottle of wine you stuffed in your suitcase before Clint uttered his name.

Silent bouts of tension filled the air and that was when you knew you weren’t going to even make it through the front door.

“He know you’re back?” Clint questioned as he pulled the two large boxes you were attempting to carry all on your own -- you weren’t on your own anymore, Clint wished you would realize that.

You cleared your throat and reached for some of the smaller boxes and the old wooden box that was wrapped securely in a blanket, refusing to look up and meet Clint’s eyes as you headed for the house. Clint wasn’t going to let it drop that easy though. You knew where all of this was going, and you didn’t want to think about it all just yet. The last thing you wanted to do is think about the man that broke your heart.

After all, he was the whole reason you left town and left your entire life behind.

“Ah, shit. Y/n…” You could hear the disappointment in his voice, and that unexpectedly stung. Clint shook his head. “You know it’s only a matter of time before he finds out. If he doesn’t already know.”

Your disappointment faded and it was quickly replaced a deep ache that nothing could cure. You know, you’ve tried everything to wash his mark off you. There was nothing that could take his claim off your heart.No one except you needed to know that. You looked up at Clint and shrugged as carefree as you could manage with a poised heart infecting every inch of you. Clint didn’t need to know how deeply you still burned for him.

“Why does he need to know, hm?” You dropped the boxes on your old bed and began to unpack, intent on ignoring where this conversation was headed.

“Because you’re his and you know it,” Clint said matter-of-factly. “You’ve been his since we were kids. That doesn’t change because you left town.”

“That was a long time ago.” You whispered. “James Barnes doesn’t have a claim on me anymore.”

The feel of his name rolling off your tongue felt… strange and just as painful as you thought it would. You’ve spent the last five years avoiding anything that had to do with that man as if just the sound of his name on your lips would burn you. The thought of saying it again made your heart race in the most devastatingly beautiful way, and you hated the hold he still had on you.

You were still the fool in love with the past.

Clint’s eyes dropped to your wrist, and you quickly tugged the sleeve of your sweater down before he could get a good look. You knew what he was looking for and frankly, it was none of his damn business. The only people it concerned were you and Bucky. You doubted he would even care what was written on your wrist. He certainly didn’t care what was written within your heart.

“You ever going to tell me why you left?” Clint prodded gently.

“Nope.” You turned around and continued unpacking, avoiding looking him in the eye as much as you could. Clint sighed as he gently kicked the larger boxes towards the closet.

“You’re not supposed to keep secrets and lie to your brother.” He scolded making you snort.

“Adoptive brother.” You corrected. “I don’t think that counts. It’s not even legal Clint. You just took me in, refused to let me leave and tell everyone I’m your sister.”

“Okay, first off.” He pointed a finger at you. “That’s rude and second, it absolutely counts.” A small laugh slipped out, but he could tell you were still all up in your head about something, and it had to do with being here -- with being home. You nearly didn’t come back. If Clint hadn’t begged you, you weren’t sure you would have had the courage. Clint had a feeling it had more to do with who home was to you.

“Hey. Just stop all this.” He insisted. “You can unpack later.”

He grabbed photo albums and shoes in your arms and dropped them back on the bed. “I know It had to be bad for things to go down the way they did. You know Buck didn’t talk to anyone for months? Months, Y/n. Steve had to drag him out of his room and force him to put something besides liquor in him. Couldn’t get him to go on runs. Nothing. He still won’t talk about you to anyone, and no one talks about you around the club. He turned over his patch to Steve the morning you left.”

You blinked and shook your head in disbelief. There was no way he did that. No way he gave that up because of you.

“W-what?”

Clint nodded, “Yeah, he stepped down and reluctantly took the VP patch.” He kissed your forehead and fidgeted with his hearing aids as he backed out of your room, attempting to give you a moment to yourself. “I’ll bring in the rest of your boxes. Think about what you want for dinner but either way, I’m ordering pizza.”

“Pizza is fine and take out your aids. I know they are bugging you, brother.” You called after him. He grinned and pumped his fist in the air like the dweeb that he was.

You sighed and dropped down to your bed eyes landing on the wooden box peeking out from the blanket you had used to try and hide it from Clint and maybe from yourself. “Stop judging me. You’re just a dumb box.” You picked up the judgmental box that was still wrapped in your old blanket and shoved it into the back of the closet setting your box of shoes on top of it.

Some things you still weren’t ready to face.

--------

Damn did Bucky hate listening to the radio when he worked in the garage. It was like that fuckin’ song came on repeat just to torment him every single time. Five years after it all went down, and he still had to listen to it? The damn song is nearly fifteen years old. Shouldn’t there be a limit on how long a song was allowed to be played on the air? This had to be well past the limit.

“It’s been a while since I could say I wasn’t addicted.” Peter sang loudly into the mop handle as he swept around the garage. Bucky looked up over Steve’s bike and narrowed his eyes as the prospect continued on. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone and fucked things up like I always do." Bucky groaned, and Peter only got louder, "but all that shit seems to disappear when I’m with you-- Ow. Shit!” He looked down at the screwdriver laying on the floor and then back at Bucky who smiled.

“You could have taken my eye out!” He squealed as he rubbed the side of his head where the screwdriver had struck him.

Bucky grinned at the kid, “Was aiming for your voice box, but eye would have worked fine.”

“That’s… rude. I don’t sing that bad.”

“It’s not you. It’s the song, Peter.” Steve deep voice rumbled through the garage and his hand slammed down on the top of the radio, silencing the dreaded song. “No music while Buck is working in the garage. Especially not that song. Go find something to clean over there by Sam, kid.” He shoved Peter towards the other end of the garage as he made his way towards Bucky.

“Hey, punk. You come to check on your girl?” Bucky asked with a smug grin, hiding his thanks behind it.

Steve smirked and sat down on the stool next to Bucky and held out one of the two beers in his hand, “Yeah, you fuckin’ jerk.” He nodded towards the bike in front of Bucky. “How she doin’?”

Bucky reached out and took the bottle setting it on the floor next to him. “She’ll be fine. Gettin’ her cleaned up now and a fresh coat of paint as soon as that is done, she’ll be road ready. Maybe don’t lay her down next ride though? Stop being a reckless idiot before Peggy beats your ass.”

“Like I had much choice.” Steve snorted. “Red Skulls are getting out of hand, and I don’t like how much time they are spending in our territory. They need to be dealt with, and I won’t have them this close to the girls. I don’t like it.”

Bucky gave a slight shrug as he spun the wrench around his fingers. There was only so much they could do right now. Sherriff was breathing down their necks. They had runs to make that needed to go unnoticed and starting a war with another club wasn’t the best idea if they wanted to stay under the radar, but Steve was right. If they were willing to lay Steve down in the middle of the day the girls most likely weren’t safe. At least one of the girls were out of danger.

“How you wanna handle it?”

“Not sure yet.” Steve sighed. He was dreading what he had to tell Bucky next. There was no way of knowing how he was going to handle it. “We’ve got a bigger problem right now.”

Bucky sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest, an amused grin lighting up his face. “Well, color me interested, Stevie. What’s so important?”

“Y/n is back.”

The grin slowly fell, and his arms dropped to his side. Of all the things he thought Steve was going to say, that was not on the list. In fact, it was nowhere near the list.

Peter leaned over to Sam and whispered, “Who is Y/n? Why does Mr. Bucky look like he’s going to throw up?”

Sam sighed and shook his head, eyes stuck on Bucky. “Stop calling him Mr. Bucky. It’s weird. It’s just Bucky and don’t worry about her. She’s… She’s Bucky’s, old lady.”

Peter frowned, clearly confused. He was so little when Y/n left and didn’t spend much time around the club. No one has ever mentioned her before, and he has never seen Bucky with a woman or even talk about one. Now he has an old lady? “I thought he was single. He never talks about her.”

“Go get the bar set up for tonight before Bucky kills you.” Sam grabbed his shoulders and walked him towards the clubhouse. “I don’t want to find another recruit to replace you because you can’t keep your mouth shut about Y/n. If you want to see tomorrow, you won’t bring her up to Buck.”

Bucky cleared his throat and looked down at the wrench in his grease-stained hands. “Where did you spot her?” He whispered, trying to keep his voice clear of emotion. It would have worked if he was talking to anyone else. Steve knew him too well to be that easily fooled.

Steve watched him carefully, deciding how he wanted to answer. He wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, but he knew when it came to Y/n Bucky didn’t always think things through. That’s how several men ended up in the ICU for getting a little too handsy. Either he jumped on his bike drove over to Clint’s threw her over the back and dragged her ass back to the clubhouse, or he enlisted whiskey to help wash away any memory of her, and he locked himself away from everyone. Steve didn’t have any other options though, he knew Bucky would tear up the town looking for her if he refused to tell him.

“She was at home. With Clint. Her jeep was fully loaded, and he was helping her carry stuff inside.”

His heart flipped, and he swore it dropped into his stomach. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help the part of him that was already begging to have her back by his side, “She’s home for good then?” He asked, hopefulness creeping up in his voice even though he tried to suppress it.

“Maybe,” Steve shrugged. “I didn’t stop in. She’s at least home for a long visit with the amount of stuff I saw Clint unloading from her jeep.”

A long visit. Bucky had a feeling that wasn’t it. Not with the way they left things. She wouldn’t have come back if she didn’t intend on making it a forever move. Then again, she didn’t let him know she was coming home. That’s alright. He can work with tats as long as she was back. He won her heart before he can do it again.

“You gonna go see her?”

Bucky ducked his head, letting his hair cover his face and hide the small smile pulling at his lips. He’s been waiting for this day for five years. It was only a matter of time before she came back home. Before she came back to him.

“Nah.” He breathed. “When she’s ready she’ll find me.”

They always find their way back to each other.

It just takes her a bit longer to find her way back.

Masterlist // Next

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #biker!au #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #alternate universe #MC!Bucky #MC!AU

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