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i-cant-sing · 3 years

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Yandere RE8: TRP Part 4

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

Part 5 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"Uhh... hello?"

You looked at the woman standing in the stairs. She was wearing a dark veil that matched the rest of her outfit- oh shit, that's a funeral outfit.

I really did pick a bad time to come here, didn't I? She's in mourning, she sees an intruder, and her day went from bad to worst. Yep, she's gonna kill me.

You took one look at the woman and then at all the possible exits: the doors- no, they'd be too heavy to move and what if they're locked? The window- but I'd have to jump out and just because it looks cool in movies to jump through glass, doesn't mean it'll work, Y/n.

So, the only option was to eliminate the threat. Or maybe... defuse it.

"This is your doll, right?" You asked, pointing at the doll, judging by the lace designs on both of their dresses. The woman didn't reply. "It looks like its been... used a lot. To be honest, she's very different than most dolls I've seen, definitely a lot more spookier." You nervously giggled, hoping she didn't mind. "But... she looks like she's been loved. A lot. Despite being broken from a lot of places, someone still took their time to fix her." You smiled sadly, remembering your own doll that Mia had ripped. "Wish I had someone like that. To sew up the wounds and fix them."You mumbled, not really sure if you were talking about your doll or yourself.

"Your doll, she's- she's very pretty. My sister would've liked her." You began. "Which is why I'm here. My family, we were in an accident- I know it was wrong of me to come here without permission, but I need to find my sister, Rose and my father, Ethan." You took a step closer. "They both of have blonde hair. Rose, my sister, she's just 6 months old. She was dressed in a baby pink onesie, bundled up in a blanket. My father, Ethan, he's about this tall and has big blue eyes. I think he was wearing a jacket, with blue denim jeans. H-have you seen them?" You asked, eyes full of hope and voice laced with eagerness.

Please, please let her have seen them. God, please.

Unsurprisingly, the woman didn't reply, but she did turn her head towards the left window. You didn't know whether she was telling you to get out of her house or signalling that they are out there, but you knew you had to leave.

Nodding, you slowly walked towards the window, your heart beating faster as you prayed that this wasn't some sort of trap, hoping she wouldn't attack you from behind because that would be like... really shitty.

But you left the house unharmed, and without looking back at the window because you didn't want to jinx it, you walked towards the forrest once again, thankful that the sun had finally came out.

Where are you guys?

You had been walking for a couple of hours now, the sun had been a bit warmer today, which was good since you hated the snow that surrounded you now. You looked at the map, tracing the path to your new destination. The Salvatore reservoir. It seemed like it would take you a day's journey to get there, and you sure as hell weren't seeing any lake in sight.

God, when will this nightmare end?

You decided to sit on a stone and take some much needed rest. Your feet ached from all the walking, and your calves were cramping. You rolled your head, popping it from the side, before taking off the rifle that had been weighing down, stretching out your arms. Digging through the little back pack you bought from Duke, you pulled out a thermos of coffee and twinkie. You don't know how or where he got it, but Duke had filled your bag with a couple of snacks; saying its for his loyal customer.

So, here you sat, in the middle of the snowy woods, eating a twinkie and drinking a lukewarm coffee. Both didn't taste good, but they're gonna keep you alive so, no complaining.

After drinking the coffee, you rested your head against a tree, recalling last nights events as you waited for the caffeine to kick in.

You tried to make sense of what happened when you got... locked in the basement. You thought you had forgotten about her, Angel. Guess not.

Wait- didn't that lady lock me in the basement? Maybe, she didn't look very hostile, her creepy doll looked scarier than she did.

You laughed at the irony. You always made fun of the horror movies where the family would become so attached to the most horrifying doll, and you'd scream at their stupidity, And yet here you were, falling for the cliche as you found comfort in that creepy doll.

Man, I'm really losing it here.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you tried to come up with the next plan. But the warm coffee had lulled you right to sleep, which was dangerous but you were too tired to care.

Just for a couple of minutes...

You woke up to the sound of growling and heavy steps. And as soon as you opened your eyes, you knew you had definitely slept for far longer than a few minutes. But that was not of concern at the moment. No, it was the source of the growling that had woken you up.

Just about 40 feet away from you were lycans. Plural. Not one, not two, but 5 lycans, and one of them was a really big one.

You held your breath as you watched them wander around; they hadn't spotted you yet, and if you stayed quiet, you hoped they would just go away.

Stilling yourself as much as you could, you watched them with wide eyes. One of them started to walk in your direction, it wasn't looking at you, which meant that it hadn't seen you, but he would if he kept on walking this way.

God, I know we haven't been on good terms, but like c'mon, you gotta give me a break. Please, I love you? Come on, you know this is not how I want to go.

You sent a silent prayer, and perhaps it worked, since the lycan suddenly turned the other way, joining its pack as they started walking deeper into the woods.

Slowly, you began to gather up your things, silently shoving them in your bag, one eye on the lycans and the other one making sure that you don't accidentally drop something that'd cause noise.

Fortunately, you didn't. You swung the bag over your shoulder, and took a step forward, careful not to step on any twigs.

Maybe God did love me. All that time in church-

THWACK!

You jumped back as a huge sheet of snow fell from the trees in front of you. You whipped your head towards the monsters and they all had stopped dead in their tracks. Slowly, one of them turned and if they hadn't heard the snow fall, they'd definitely heard the way your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Then, it growled.

Motherfucker.

You pulled out your gun just as the two of them began running your way. With a quick jump to the side, you dodged them and shot them two times each. Hearing your gun fire, the other two began running your way too, while the larger one stayed behind as it watched. This time, as you shot one of them, the other managed to kick you in the chest hard, throwing you against the rock. Luckily, you didn't hit your head, as you rolled and shot it dead.

Spitting out the blood, you looked back at the last lycan who had already started running your way. You began loading up your gun with trembling hands, but just as you aimed, the lycan took a giant leap and knocked the gun out of your hand.

Fuck.

The giant grabbed you by your neck, lifting you up high before throwing you across the ground. You wheezed, scrambling up to your feet as you began running away from it, its heavy steps following you. It roared angrily behind you, and that only made you ignore the burning pain in your chest as you ran faster.

But of course, God had decided to make you live a cliche horror movie, because you tripped over a fucking branch, making you fall on your stomach. You flipped over instantly, and saw your nightmare come true as the lycan jumped on you.

On pure reflex, you punched it square in the face, which you doubted hurt it more than it hurt you, if anything, the monster was momentarily perplexed, but that was enough for you to slip from under it.

But you were only able to take a few steps away when it suddenly grabbed you by your neck and lifted you up again, snarling as it began opening its mouth, revealing its razor-sharp teeth at you.

God, if you're hearing this, I'm converting to atheism because I did not need this today.

Looking at the horrifying lycan, you prayed one last time before you were eaten by it. Surprisingly, your life did not flash before your eyes, which you were kinda grateful for because you did not need to relive that before your death.

But that moment didn't came. No, what came were familiar moans of pain, and then the sound of a drill, followed by blood splattering on your face as the lycan was sliced vertically from the head to the toe by the aforementioned drill.

The lycan fell to the ground, revealing the pair of soldats that killed them and behind them a smirking Heisenberg, who rested against a tree, tipping his hat at you.

You were far too shocked to say anything, and after a few seconds, the man walked over to you, blocking the view of his monstrous creations just mutilating the lycans.

"So... that was a bit traumatising." He started, chuckling at your stunned face. "You okay, kid?"

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck-

"Yeah." You took his hand, and he helped you up. You groaned at the pain, touching the tender side around the chest where the lycan had hit you. Yeah, you probably broke a rib.

Heisenberg helped you sit down on a tree stump. "Hmm, that bastard kicked you hard didn't it." Wait- "But that was a phenomenal punch you threw at it. Nearly made me burst out laughing."

"You were watching? Why the fuck didn't you come in before!"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to see if you could really handle yourself- which you were pretty good at, but then you lost your gun and it was kinda an unfair match from there on." He pulled out some pills from his coat. "i was just passing by when I saw those lycans moving away. Thats when I pushed the tree which made snow sheet fall and you know the rest from there on."

Your eyes went wide. "You did that on purpose? What the shit, Heisenberg-?! Fuck." You doubled over in pain, clutching your ribs, heaving.

"Shh, stay still, kid. Here, take these. They'll help with the pain." You eyed the bottle before popping two in your mouth. Hey, if he wanted me dead, he wouldn't have saved me from the lycan. "I just wanted to see if you were worth the trouble, and as it turns out, you are."

"You didn't have to almost kill me to see that. And now I've lost my gun. And I don't have any money to buy a new one. I doubt Duke gives freebies." You huffed out.

Heisenberg rolled his eyes. "God, you sure do whine a lot. Here-" He dropped a tiny pouch in your lap. "There's some coins in there. That should be enough to buy you a new gun. And for fucks sake, get a gun with more rounds! You don't have time to be loading a gun mid battle." He huffed. "So, where are you going now?"

You rolled your head from side to side. "Well, I went to the Beneviento house. Didn't find Ethan or Rose there. Now, I'm going to the lake."

"The lake? Huh, well if you survived Donna, then Moreau should be a piece of cake. You got the map? Let me show you the short cut, it's not far from here." You gave him the map and he showed you the directions.

"Where are you going then?"

"Mother Miranda called. Don't worry, I'll keep our meeting a secret." He then nodded at you. "Alright, I'm off now."

"Wait!" Your voice stopped him. "I don't know when I'll see Duke again. And I don't have gun, so what if another pack of lycans come?"

Heisenberg slumped his shoulders as he let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine. I gotta do everything by myself." He dog whistled and one of the soldats stopped maiming the lycan and ran to Heisenberg. "From now on, you're gonna listen to her."The soldat looked at you and nodded. "If she tells you to kill, you kill. If she tells you to die, you die. Follow her around and keep her safe." The soldat nodded. Then Heisenberg turned to you. "He's already dead, so don't worry about throwing him in danger. Oh and also, just take him into the sun every once in a while so that his engine can recharge. You'll know when he needs the sun."

You were baffled. "Wait, Heisenberg- how the- what the hell am I supposed to do with him?"

"Figure it out, kid. Think of him as a guard dog."

You looked at the soldat then at Heisenberg's retreating form, then back at the soldat.

"So..." The soldat stared at you. "You got a name?"

"Handsome." You nodded to yourself as you trudged, using the soldat's arm to support yourself. "That's what I'm gonna call you. Handsome. What do you think?"

The soldat was wearing a metal contraption over its eyes, so you couldn't really tell what it was feeling.

"Well, you don't seem to have any complaints, so from now on, you'll respond to the name "Handsome". Do you understand?"

The soldat nodded.

You laughed. God, the pain meds were either making me stupid or everything else funnier.

You looked at the map again. Just a couple of more minutes and then a right turn. And then you should see the lake- god, this map was confusing as hell.

"So..." you wondered what you should ask the cyborg. Oh right. "You seen Ethan? Blonde man, crazy big eyes. Or a baby, Rose?" The man shook his head no.

Sigh. What else could I ask him? What about how did he die? No, what if that's triggering? I can't handle a Terminator right now. And I don't think I should ask him about his past or anything that'll cause him to have a existential crisis. Ah! I've got it!

"Hey, how do you see?"

The soldat looks down at you for a few seconds then points at his metal contraption.

Wait- is that sarcasm?

You scoff. "Of course, you see with your eyes! I meant, with the whole metal thingy covering them, how do you- oh, there's this vision specs in them."

You smiled. "Hey, you're kinda like Cyclops, yknow-" you were cut off as Handsome suddenly pushed you to the ground, turning on his drill.

"Wait, shit- you don't have to be Cyclops! We can talk this out-" but Handsome was focusing on something else, and that's when you saw it. Two lycans.

Handsome ran and easily maimed them to pieces, I mean, you had to look away from the horrific scene midway.

The soldat returned five minutes later, covered in blood. He extended his hand and you reluctantly took it, letting him support you as you began walking again, your heart still beating like crazy.

But you calmed down when you finally reached the lake, the setting sun gave serene feel to the entire reservoir. You inhaled deeply before looking at Handsome. "Lets go down there." You pointed at the lake.

You were both sitting at the wooden broadwalk, your legs hanging off the ledge. You looked at the water, it wasn't crystal clear, but you could see some fishes swimming around, so at least it wasn't dangerous to life. You looked at Handsome, then at his drill and you realised he was still covered in blood. "Lets get you cleaned up, hm?" You said, pulling out a rag from your bag and dipping it in the cold water below. You began with cleaning up his drill, then dipping the rag back in cold water and cleaning his chest and his other arm.

"Good job back there, Handsome."You smiled as Handsome nodded. "Heisenberg was right, you are kinda like a dog. Hmm, I wonder if..." You tested your theory as you petted him on the head. "Good job, Handsome!" But the soldat only tilted its head in confusion.

"Hmm, perhaps not." You cupped the cold water in your hands and washed your own face, You looked at your reflection in the water. "You wanna go for a swim? I don't mind." Handsome shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not a fan of swimming either."

Handsome stared at you. You scoffed. "Oh so you pretend you don't understand what I say, but you want to hear the story? Fine, but I'm only telling you because it might be important later."

You both stared at the water as you began your story. "Well, when I was 15, I had snuck out of the house to go to a party. It was at this rich girl's house and I knew she didn't like me, but I was surprised when she had invited me to her place. Yes, a red flag I should've seen from miles ago, but I was young and dumb and desperate to climb the highschool social hierarchy." You chuckled. "Anyways, long story short, one of the guys there pushed me into the pool because I don't know if they thought it was funny to see me drown? By some luck, I managed to grab onto the pool ledge and pull myself up. I immediately left the party, embarrassed and cold and on the verge of breaking down. Then on the way back home, there was this car following me and then some weirdo catcalled me and tried to get me in his car. Now, scared for my life because I watched a lot of Criminal Minds, I ran all the way home, praying that he leaves me alone. I think he stopped when he saw a Range Rover following him, but I don't know. I just rushed back home." You sighed. "You know what happened next? I bursted through the front door, slamming it shut and I turn around to see my dad in the living room, looking surprised to see me. He stood up and looked me up and down and then said, "Y/n? You're drenched completely. And you're messing up the floor. You know what? Mia's in the bathroom right now, why don't you go upstairs and I'll clean up here. You know how she gets when there's water on the wood." And I was just so shocked, that I didn't say anything and went back upstairs. Once I was in the shower, that's when I broke down crying. I almost drowned, almost got kidnapped and my father was worried about me messing up the wooden floor? Hell, he didn't even ask me why I was coming home at midnight." Your tears fell into the lake, making small ripples. You chuckled, "God, I always wondered how tired he must've been from work that day to ignore all these visible signs of distress. I always hated his job, you know? They made him work way too much." You looked at Handsome who was looking at the lake. "Anywho, now you know I can't swim so, save me if I fall into this lake, okay?" He nodded.

You guys sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before a question popped up in your mind. "Handsome?" He turned his head towards you, only to see a mischievous smile on your face. "Are you seeing someone?" The man turned his back to the lake, making you laugh. "Ahh, so you like someone. Tell me, is it someone from the village?" The man further turned his head away from you in embarrassment. "Oh come on, tell me! Is it a girl?" He nodded reluctantly, making you punch his arm. "You dog! Does she know?" Handsome shook his head, making you smile. "Tell you what? As a payback for saving me back there, I'll help you get her. I'll be your wingman, Handsome, hm?" He nodded a bit enthusiastically.

"We all deserve good things, Handsome. No matter how we look, or what we are, these things don't really define one's self worth. Its our intentions, you know?" Handsome didn't know, but he nodded anyways.

"Good. Now, lets go check out this place. Keep an eye out for Ethan and Rose, okay?" You told him, not knowing someone was already watching the two of you.

So... thought?

What did you guys think about Handsome? I'm gonna post a pic of him soon if you guys want.

Part 5 is here.

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libraryofloveletters · 3 years

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Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context)

Category: fluff for the most part.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do.

-----

Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication.

Letters had always been more of your thing.

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him.

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30.

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter.

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving.

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment.

September 30th.

‘Hi baby!

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon.

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ?

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :)

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you.

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd.

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure. I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back.

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor.

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming)

Peace out,

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind.

November 4th.

‘Dear Evan,

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you.

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter.

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up.

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer.

Anyways, signing off for now.

Yours always, y/n.

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet.

December 21st.

‘Hey y/n,

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me.

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now.

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun.

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now.

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description.

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ?

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n.

Peace out,

Evan.

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th.

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it.

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan,

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ?

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go.

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories.

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had.

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah)

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present?

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country.

February 12th.

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it, a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name.

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas.

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me.

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell)

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ?

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it.

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it.

Peace out,

Buck’

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash.

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there.

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August.

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it.

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now.

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall.

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that.

Except, she was still busy.

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile.

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n.

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties.

A fresh start.

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into.

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates.

Buck’s last letter to you.

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing.

‘Dear Buck,

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change.

Guess where I decided to go ?

Did you guess yet?

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ?

LA!

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.)

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ?

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first.

Yours always, y/n.’

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye.

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor.

The unit number was the only difference.

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in.

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address.

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall.

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years.

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you.

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door.

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door.

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?”

“I am, who are you ?”

“Y/n.”

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled.

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar.

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer.

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter.

“Water’s fine, thanks”

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you.

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile.

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?”

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose”

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums.

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before.

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?”

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact.

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer.

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?”

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.”

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles.

“Buck, we live in the same building.”

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other.

“Okay.”

----

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utopianvoices · 3 years

Text

past, present, future → b.chan

synopsis: Your best friend drags you to his high school reunion against your will, and never have you encountered such chaos. Alternatively, you go on the journey of making more friends, and a potential lover.

genre: high school acquaintances to lovers au; fluff, one second of angst

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 14.4k

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, kinda dialogue heavy (oops)

note: i am BACK with this mess of a fic. it took me too long to finish this, and i apologise for any shitty writing :3 thanks to my little babie @curanonemu for making sure i finished this and supporting me as usual muAH. new formatting on posts too weeeee (new year, new me fsdhfgs jk no)!! also, synopsis kinda sucks i’m sorry :P hope y’all enjoy! x

You did not want to go for your high school reunion dinner.

High school is a time for many that is either the best, or worst time of their lives. Forever friends are found there and painstakingly embarrassing memories are made in run down buildings with people you care about. Except, you didn’t have any such attachments.

Those three years were nothing but a filler for you as you studied, helped out in the library, and hung out with one person you called your best friend.

And on top of it all, it wasn’t even a high school reunion dinner meant for you.

The night the bomb is dropped on you, Changbin walks into the living room of the apartment you both share just outside the grounds of your university, and goes straight to the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal because cooking and Changbin did not get along well. The apartment was way cheaper than the dorms your school provided, and it definitely did not have any nosy RAs who were just out there to torture students for their own viewing pleasure.

On top of all that, you could live with your best friend and not some random stranger who might very much as well be a psychotic killer. Perhaps, Changbin could have some questionable habits, like talking to himself in a baby voice while looking in the mirror, but nothing that threatened your life.

You hear Changbin’s phone ringing from the kitchen as you aimlessly flip through the shows available on Netflix, deciding which new show you should watch and commit to, when your best friend’s boisterous laughter fills your ears. Used to the noise, you roll your eyes before increasing the volume of the TV, finally deciding to rewatch Sherlock.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re about to solve the known mystery together with Benedict Cumberbatch when Changbin walks in front of the TV, automatically eliciting a whine from you as you crane your neck left and right to catch a glimpse of the screen.

“What the fuck, Bin?” You finally yell, frowning at the boy in front of you. Realising that he probably wanted something, considering the fact that he wasn’t moving till you asked him, you switch the TV off and settle back into the sofa, throwing him a death glare. “What do you want from me, pest?”

Something’s definitely amiss when you see Changbin shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, a guilty smile ever-present on his face.

“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” you say distantly, leaning back into the sofa with crossed arms. “So give it up.”

“Oh c’mon Y/n! At least hear me out?” Changbin cries out loudly, dropping onto his knees with clasped hands.

Heaving out a sigh, you slowly unfold your arms and lean forward, eyebrows raised as you nod at the poor boy in front of you. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t expect me to say yes.”

“Um...” Changbin starts, eyes darting around the room as he tries to find the right words. “So my high school friends are having a reunion dinner next week and I told them I’d go, but I also said I’d bring you along and they were too happy and so now I think you’ll have to come with me but-”

“Woah woah woah, a high school reunion party? Absolutely not.”

It’s not like you had anything against his friends. You did have brief interactions with a few of them in high school and you knew they were pretty decent lads, but there was no way you were following Changbin to what was meant to be a friends’ gathering.

“But why not!” Changbin whines, waddling over to you on his knees. “It’ll be really fun!”

“Yeah, fun for you,” you deadpan, staring at your pitiful best friend who has now resorted to throwing you puppy eyes. “They’re your friends after all, not mine.”

“That’s right. But they could be. Don’t you think it’s time you start finding more friends who are not me?”

Changbin’s once pitiful eyes held something other than desperation at that moment; they held concern.

It was true that you had no other friend other than Changbin. You knew lots of people, sure, but you wouldn’t call them your friends. With no friends to your name other than that one, it also wasn’t hard to guess that you never dated too. But all that mattered is that you were fine with it, right?

“You know that I don’t need any other friends. You’re more than enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t think I could deal with another Changbin in my life.”

Your words incite chuckles from Changbin, but that doesn’t stray him from his original goal.

“How about this,” he starts, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor because his knees were starting to hurt way too much. “You come to the reunion with me, and the moment you feel uncomfortable, we both can leave no questions asked. Deal?”

As tempting as that sounded, you knew it was not fair to cut Changbin’s precious time with his friends just because you did not want to hang out with new people. “That’s not fair to you.”

Shaking his head, Changbin stares at you, the fire in his eyes clearly visible, and you know that he had made up his mind. “I don’t care. It’s either you follow me and we can leave whenever, or I don’t go at all.”

There was no turning back now. You knew that in the end, what Changbin wants, he gets.

You sigh numbly before nodding your head in defeat, dreading the day that was to come where you had to leave the comfort of your apartment.

With no warning, you’re engulfed in a tight hug by a nuisance chanting “thank you” a million times. You ease into the hug, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light squeeze, before pulling back to see that he had a smile similar to the one on your face.

“I guess you’re right about me needing more friends. I can’t be annoying you for the rest of my life, right?”

ii.

You’re once again reminded why you don’t go for social gatherings as you take in the various clothes strewn all over your room.

“Hey- Woah, what happened here?” Changbin asks, bewildered at the sight in front of him. “It looks like a hurricane hit your room or something.”

“Yes, it’s called Hurricane Y/n Is Screwed,” you reply sarcastically, before sinking down into your bed in defeat. Looking up at your best friend, you decide to give it a shot and put on your most pitiful face. “Do I really have to go?”

“Yes, you really have to go,” Changbin replies without sparing you another glance, as he sifts through the heap of clothes on your bed. “And get that ugly look off your face, please. It makes me want to barf.”

Flipping your best friend off, you manoeuvre yourself such that you’re facing Changbin, and look upon him in curiosity.

After what felt like forever, pieces of clothing are thrown at you, along with a reminder that you had three hours before you had to leave.

“Three?!” You screech, causing Changbin to wince and cover his ears. “You should’ve told me earlier so that I have more time!”

“What are you so loud for, you damn pterodactyl? And three hours is more than enough. We’re just going to a cheap restaurant a few blocks away because we’re all broke college students.”

Huffing at your insolent best friend, you grab the clothes he threw at you and make your way to the bathroom, not bothering to contemplate his decision because you knew he had pretty good taste in fashion. In fact, half the clothes you had in your wardrobe were bought with him as your advisor, so you’re really in no position to criticise his choices.

You stare at your reflection and let out a nervous breath; you weren’t used to meeting new people, and there was no way you were going to be able to handle a hoard of newly turned adults. The last thing you wanted was to cut Changbin’s time short with his friends, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you make a promise to yourself that you’ll get through the night by whatever means. Even if it meant hours of torture.

Changbin, with absolutely no urgency, is sitting on the couch watching the fourth Harry Potter movie, when you walk into the living room, makeup half done and still dressed in your stay-at-home clothes. Boys, you think.

“I think I need to know who and how many people will be there,” you finalise, watching Changbin pick up the remote and pausing the movie at exactly when Cedric dies; poor chap. “ So that I can, you know, mentally prepare myself.”

“You really don’t, but okay. There’ll be nine of us, including you. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix from the dance team, Jeongin and Seungmin from the baseball team, Chan from the swimming team, soccer team, and honours board, and Jisung who was pretty much useless like me.”

“Wow.”

“In my defense, you’ve seen all of these dudes at least once,” Changbin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, they’re all really nice and fun so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Says you,” you mutter under your breath, before returning to your room to prepare for your doom.

iii.

The sign of the restaurant flickers periodically as you stand in the middle of the street with Changbin by your side. People brush past you as they hurry to meet their friends and families in the various restaurants lining the street, excitement evident in their steps.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door. Immediately, a gush of warm air welcomes you, causing you to let out a content sigh.

“Hey Changbin!” A loud voice calls out from behind you, and the both of you turn in your place. The sight in front of you gives you equal amounts of anxiety and fear, as you wonder how you were going to handle the table of one, two, three… seven boys, including the embarrassment standing beside you, who was now busy doing some sort of weird wave in favour of a greeting.

“Changbin, please,” you plead, burying your face in your hands as you willed for someone to transport you back to your apartment so that you didn’t have to face reality and stand next to your shameless friend.

Chuckling sheepishly, your best friend finally stops, patting your back before walking towards the table at the back of the restaurant. “Oops sorry. Let’s go meet the rest!”

Here goes nothing.

Reaching the almost-filled table, your eyes dart from face to face, trying to see if you could remember anyone currently seated in front of you.

“Guys! This is Y/n, my best friend,”—at this, a few complaints erupt from around the table—”Gosh, fine. My other best friend.”

Immediately, at least three people shout their greetings your way.

“Hi Y/n! Nice to meet you!”

“Yo~ Changbin’s told us lots about you.”

“Y/n, sit beside me!”

Exasperated, your eyes flit around the table, trying your best to smile at all of them (which honestly turns out to look more like a pained grimace). Luckily, there was one seemingly sane person present.

“Shut up, everyone.” A boy with blue hair and sharp eyes shushes everyone. “Hi Y/n, it’s nice to have you here. I’m Jeongin.”

At this, the once quiet table is back to chaos as complaints are directed towards Jeongin for sneakily introducing himself first. Taking advantage of the mess, Changbin guides you towards the empty seats and finally settles the both of you down. Now all the seats were filled, except for one empty seat left beside you.

You’re about to ask Chanbgin about the empty chair, but before you can, he claps his hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone will take turns introducing themselves. Seungmin, you start.”

The sandy haired boy seated on the right of Changbin waves both his hands while bouncing in his seat, reminding you of a puppy. “I’m Seungmin!”

Next is Jeongin, who just gives you a small smile.

Beside him, you see a blonde haired boy, what is up with the hair colours, who just smiles brightly, eyes shining brightly and freckles visible. “Hello, I’m Felix. It’s great to meet you!”

Taken aback by the deep voice, which was a total contrast to his cute appearance, you’re unable to hide the shock from your face. This triggers a bout of chuckles from the table; it was probably common for people to display similar reactions when meeting Felix.

Before pretty boy (that’s what you decided to remember him as) could introduce himself, the black haired boy resembling a squirrel interrupts him. “I’m Jisung!”

You recognise him as the one who shouted when you and Changbin entered the restaurant, and you’re about to acknowledge him when you’re cut off.

“Oi Han, it was my turn to introduce myself! Who allowed you to skip the line?”

“I do what I want,” was Jisung’s response, and pretty boy looked like he was one push away from murder.

Just as you’re sure that you were about to witness a murder, Changbin chides the two boys and breaks up the petty argument. “Just introduce yourselves without any nonsense, please.”

“I’m Hyunjin,” pretty boy mutters sulkily, giving Jisung a death stare. “And I can dance better than Jisung.”

“You motherf-”

“And I’m Minho,” the last person introduces himself, successfully cutting off Jisung’s profanity mid-word. “Sorry, don’t mind those two. They’re like Tom and Jerry.”

Smiling weakly, you muster up the courage to introduce yourself to the four pairs of eyes staring at you. Hyunjin and Jisung were busy having a staredown, while Changbin was eyeing the meat sizzling on the grill. “Hi, I’m Y/n, Changbin’s friend. It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for having me here.”

And just like that, everyone is back to their own conversations, with Changbin piling the perfectly done meat onto his plate. You take in a deep breath and look around the table at the happy faces.

This isn’t so bad, you thought, a little chaotic, but otherwise entertaining.

“They’re overwhelming huh?”

Any effort to mask your bewilderment vanishes as you catch the knowing look on Minho’s face. A guilty smile blooms on your face and you nod your head. “Just a little.”

“I get that,” he starts, but soon enough, there’s a content smile on his face that shows his love for his friends. “But at the end of the day, I know that these monkeys will be there for me no matter what, so I guess it makes it all worth it.”

Smiling softly at his words, you almost coo at the light blush dusting Minho’s face as reality catches up to him.

“Ahem anyway. How’s living with Changbin?” He clears his throat before changing the topic, instinctively putting some meat on your plate before helping himself, earning a grateful smile from you.

“It’s not too bad,” you start, feeling Changbin’s gaze on you after having overheard Minho’s question. “Except sometimes, he talks to himself in the mirror and it’s pretty scarring.”

“Y/n!” Changbin whines as Minho guffaws beside you, nodding his head to your answer, clearly having witnessed that side of Changbin before. “Wait till Chan comes. At least he’ll support me.”

At the unfamiliar name, you furrow your brows and the name in the form of a question tumbles out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Chan?”

“He’s not here yet,” Minho addresses your confusion, having heard your little slip up. “He had to oversee the training for the upcoming soccer match, being the captain and all, and apparently he had a tutoring session after. He should be here soon though.”

That explains the empty chair beside you.

“Oh, he needs to get tutored after training?” You ask, feeling bad for the unknown boy. Having to absorb information after physical activities is torture. You couldn’t even focus after 40 minutes of gym. “That’s rough.”

At your assumption, a cat-like smirk spreads across Minho’s face. “Oh no, darling. He tutors after his training.”

There’s no way you’re to be blamed for the first thought that pops into your head after discovering that said Chan was responsible and smart. You’ve seen people struggling with just one extracurricular, and begging teachers for extra credits because of poor time management.

So, it’s really not your fault that the first words that enter your head is, that’s hot.

Just then, the bell situated above the door rings, indicating that someone was entering the restaurant. You’re not bothered by it, until Felix’s deep voice fills your ear.

“Chan!”

It’s almost comical how slowly you turn towards the sound, blush threatening to fill your cheeks at your first impression of Chan, without even meeting him. And as Giovanni Torriano has once said:

Talk of the Devil, and he's presently at your elbow.

Your eyes follow the figure of the devilishly breathtaking boy walking towards your table. He’s still dressed in what you assume was his soccer jersey, black hair tousled from the wind and practice. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of that inappropriate thought and opt to stare at the bowl of radish that looked the most interesting to you.

“Hey guys!” Chan smiles widely at the group of friends, as a few of them immediately get up from their seats to greet him with their usual bro hug. He sets his things down beside Minho, and is taking his seat when he spots you. Confusion clear in his eyes, he looks around the table, silently asking for an explanation as to what a stranger was doing at their usual table.

You realise his staring and try to introduce yourself, but you find yourself unable to form sentences as the reality of who Chan was hits you.

The star swimmer of your high school’s swimming team, and the top student of every single year. He was the epitome of popular. Everyone knew his name, and apparently he had never missed one day of lessons or training. On top of that, he used to regularly tutor in the library.

“Oh, this is my friend Y/n!” Changbin pipes up, slinging an arm around you. “Same high school as us, and my roommate now.”

At this, the confusion clouding Chan’s hazel eyes clears up, and he turns to face you, extending a hand. “The one who used to carry thick books everywhere and helped out in the library right? I’m Chan!”

Being the complete opposite of your best friend, you’re sure no one has ever noticed you in the library. You blend in perfectly with the shadows and shelves, and you didn’t usually help the students out, opting to arrange the books in the storeroom—the one small thing you could do to help out the aged librarian who brought you mouth-watering brownies every Thursday.

The thick books, in your defense, was your attempt at trying to finish the Harry Potter series whenever you had the spare time. You never had to explain yourself because you never expected anyone to notice. Especially not the most popular guy in school who had a million other friends.

But there he was, in all his glory, eyes crinkled into crescents as he waits for you to shake his hand, seemingly remembering you when nobody else did.

A small nudge to your side from Changbin breaks you out of your reverie and you grab his hand, silently noting how soft they were. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling at you, he gently shakes your hand before turning to the other boys, immediately making jokes and laughing along.

“What was that about?” Changbin whispers harshly, eyeing you and Chan suspiciously.

“What was what?”

“Chan remembering you! You’ve never even met before.”

Looking at your best friend, you shrug before reaching out for another piece of meat. “Beats me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to interrogate you more, when he’s successfully cut off by Seungmin.

“Y/n! Tell us more about yourself! I’m bored of hearing about these idiots.”

Jeers sound from around the table as you let out a nervous chuckle, aware of how everyone’s attention was on you. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself for extra confirmation.

Yea!” Seungmin replies, nodding vigorously. “What are you doing now, and how was high school for you, and just everything!”

Noting your hesitation, Changbin is about to step in to save you, but your hand on his thigh stops him. Looking at you curiously, he realises from your expression that you’re finally about to do what he had been nagging at you to do since day one of becoming your friend.

iv.

‘Is it possible for a stomach to burst from too much laughing?’ is what runs through your head as tears stream down your face from laughing uncontrollably at another joke Jisung was saying.

“Wait, I remember Changbin telling me that people used to refer to you as Baby Photos when you all played at the school shows,” you ask after you had recovered from your laughing fit, curiosity piquing. “What’s that all about?”

At the mention of the familiar name, the boys let out groans and Hyunjin starts hitting Jisung. “It’s all Jisung’s fault!”

“Basically, he somehow got ahold of all our baby photos and submitted it to the administration on behalf of us,” Changbin explains, rolling his eyes at the memory. “So if you see our yearbook, all eight of us have our baby photos instead of the actual photo we were supposed to submit.”

How is that even possible?!

“We still don’t know how he managed to do that.” Chan answers your unasked question, shaking his head fondly at the ridiculous memory.

At this, Jisung pipes up. “Everything is possible when you’re charming and handsome. You lot won’t be able to relate!”

And you finally agree that the beating Jisung gets after was well deserved.

“Restaurant’s closing in ten!”

The owner of the restaurant, a nice old lady who had a soft spot for the boys, calls out from the back. She had already let all of you stay past her usually closing time, and even gave you some free side dishes, together with a loving chide about how the boys don’t come and visit her anymore.

The screech of the chairs fill the place as everyone gets up, stomach and heart full from the meal and company. You smile to yourself, glad that you let yourself be convinced to follow Changbin because you had one of the best days in your life.

“Did you have fun today?” Your best friend asks with a smug smile, already knowing the answer.

“Shut up,” is all you can say—a clear sign that you were admitting defeat. “It was okay.”

“That wounds me,” someone speaks up from behind you, having heard your conversation with Changbin. You whip around to see Chan clutching his heart and wearing an exaggerated hurt face. “I thought we had a connection.”

“I-you, no, that’s not-what” you splutter, horrified at the thought of Changbin’s, and now apparently your, friends thinking that you didn’t have a good time with them. There was no way you could let them think as such when they had made you feel so comfortable, and have so much fun.

Your stuttering and horrified expression does it, and Chan bursts into laughter. “I’m so sorry, it was a joke. But your face!”

The guilt and regret is replaced with relief and irritation, and you smack his arm out of habit, something you always did to Changbin when he was being a pain in the ass. But as soon as you do it, you’re once again filled with regret because Oh my God it’s only been two hours, you’re not supposed to just smack people.

“Stop overthinking it, idiot,” Chan cuts you off, adding in a low tier insult to make you feel a bit better about your reflexes. “We’re friends now; all of us.”

Friend to friends. Now that’s an upgrade.

You’re about to say something, when you’re cut off by Changbin screeching unceremoniously as he glances at the time displayed on his lockscreen (it’s a picture of the two of you making ugly faces—he refused to change it).

“Shit, we’re going to miss the last bus that leaves from here!” He almost shouts, grabbing his and your things. “Adios bitchachos!”

A snicker or two echoes through the empty restaurant at Changbin’s farewell, together with requests of bringing you the next time they meet.

“Make sure Y/n comes for the next dinner! Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not!”

Jisung earns himself a string of vulgarities from Changbin for that, as he guffaws and hi-fives Hyunjin.

You’re barely able to say your farewell to the boys with Changbin dragging you out of the restaurant, but you manage to shout out a few words while waving. “Thank you for today! See you soon!”

The bus arrives just as you reach the bus stop, and Changbin all but collapses on one of the empty seats from the running you both did.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re foul.” You’re staring at your best friend in disgust when he starts questioning you about the dinner, nausea forgotten.

“So…” he starts, pivoting in his seat to face you, cheek leaning against his hand which rested on the seat in front of him. “For someone who was dead set on not coming, you sure looked like you had lots of fun.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you turn to face Changbin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me making more friends?”

“Of course, of course~” he drawls, smirk ever-present on his face. “And who do we have to thank for that?”

“And you ask me why I don’t listen to you or ask you for favours.” Turning your attention back to your phone, you open up Temple Run in hopes of keeping yourself occupied for the bus ride back; but Changbin had other plans.

Whining, he snatches your phone from your hands and slips it into his pocket. “Y/n! Tell me everything!”

“What do you want to know?!” you ask, exasperated. “You were there literally the whole time.”

“Yes I know, but I want to know what you think of all my friends!” Changbin claps his hands in excitement, leaning forward in anticipation. “Well, our friends now.”

You can’t help but sigh as you prepare for the long bus ride ahead—but somehow, you don’t miss the sudden warmth enveloping you as you recalled the past few hours.

“First of all, Jisung and Hyunjin are hilarious, it’s like…”

Two weeks later, and you’re knee deep in shit. Not literally, of course, but you might as well be.

It’s the infamous hell month in your university, where every student (regardless of major) has a shit ton of assignments and tests to complete, and the library is open 24 hours for poor souls like yourself.

It’s two in the morning when you’re working on your second essay of the day. There are crumpled balls of paper all over your desk and surrounding your bin, courtesy of your pathetic aim.

“You’re cleaning everything up later,” Changbin speaks up from across the dining table you both were sharing to get work done, tapping away on his equipment as he works on some new beat. “I don’t expect every ball to go in, but to miss everything? That’s some serious talent.”

“Shut your mouth, Seo.” Flipping your best friend off, you finally push yourself away from the table, stretching a bit before making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of ramen in hopes of satiating the beast growling in your stomach.

As you open each shelf, you slowly come to the realisation that you were completely out of snacks and food. Even the single frozen bag of peas and empty ice cream tub stares back at you in pity as you scan the fridge.

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you slowly turn around to face your unsuspecting, so-called, best friend. Walking towards him, you knock the table a few times to get his attention.

He notices your presence, and removes his headphones to look at you quizzically, his full attention on your blank face.

“When were you going to tell me that you had consumed every single food item we have?”

It’s almost comical how quickly the blood drains from his face, as his eyes dart all around the room, skillfully avoiding you. If it were any other situation, you would’ve definitely laughed while falling onto the floor. But this wasn’t any other situation.

This was war.

And honestly, it would have been a war that you would’ve definitely won—if not for the loud sound your stomach just produced.

Narrowing your eyes at the accused seated a few feet away from you, you walk over to the countertop with your wallet, eyes not leaving Changbin for a second.

“I will deal with you when I am back from the convenience store.”

And with the sight of Changbin gulping imprinted in your mind, you slam your apartment door behind you and make your way grumpily to the 24-hour convenience store located seven minutes away.

vi.

The electronic chime sounds throughout the store as the part-timer throws you a friendly greeting from the counter. “Welcome!”

Reciprocating with a smile of your own, you take slow steps towards the shelf with the various assorted packets of ramen, and your hand automatically reaches for your favourite one. Just as it comes into contact with the plastic, you can feel yourself salivating and your stomach growls in appreciation. It’s a myth, you think. There’s no way food like carrots and asparagus is what gets students through school. The only saving grace you have during this period is packets of ramen and chocolate milk. Countless numbers of assignments and tests are already torturous enough; healthy, tasteless food on top of that? No, thanks.

Clutching the ramen packet in your hands like it was the treasure of your life, you walk towards the milk section to complete your meal with your favourite carton of chocolate milk. There was something about the combination of milk that combats the spice from the ramen, and you’re about to drop onto your knees right there and then to worship the people who invented ramen and chocolate milk, when you see the last carton being taken away right in front of your eyes.

Without any second thoughts, you rush towards the person and grab their arm, already getting ready to pull out the sob story of how you absolutely need the chocolate milk to survive. Surprised by the sudden contact, the man holding the carton whips his head towards you, eyes wide.

There’s a fleeting sense of familiarity that passes through you when you see the hazel peeking out from above the mask that covered the rest of his face, but you’re too preoccupied to dwell on the thought. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to beg, you’re cut off by an all too familiar voice.

“Y/n?”

Huh?

You stare at each other for a few seconds before the realisation of who you were holding, no, clinging onto dawns on you.

“C-Chan?”

In a lively city that thrived at night, there were a thousand other 24-hour convenience stores scattered all around in every corner. It also wasn’t everyday that you decided to go to the convenience store for food, opting to go to the grocery stores instead. So, if you calculated correctly, the chance of you bumping into Chan at 2:30 a.m. at that very particular store should be close to never.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of you, chocolate milk clutched in one hand.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh I came here to water my plants.”

Plants?

You’re more than confused, till you hear the soft snicker that escapes his mouth. Narrowing your eyes at his antics, you decide to bite back with a “Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… Are you planning to hold onto me forever?” Chan teases you, eyes gesturing to your hand that was still clutching onto him, before looking back at you with a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

With the whole bumping-into-Chan thing that happened, it had completely slipped your mind that you were still holding onto him. You snatch your hand away in horror, eyes widening as you feel the heat creep up your neck. “S-sorry.” And before you could stop yourself, you also continue to spill why you had grabbed his arm in the first place. “I was just craving for chocolate milk, and the one you took was the last carton left.”

Looking back and forth at you and the carton, you start to feel like an absolute idiot, until he reaches out and pushes the carton into your hands. “You can have it then,” he says, and walks away. “Stay right there, let me grab some ramen and we can have supper together!”

You stare at the carton for a few seconds, the droplets of water that formed on the outside cool against your fingers. On a normal day, you would have refused the milk vehemently, telling the other person not to worry and to have the last carton. But today wasn’t any other day.

And Chan wasn’t any other person.

We’re friends, after all, is what echoes in your mind as you look up at the boy walking towards you, two packets of ramen in his hand and a carton of strawberry milk. Smiling at him, you finally express your gratitude for his kind sacrifice.

“Thanks for this,” you say, waving the carton in front of him. “I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it.”

Nodding with a smile, he tears his two packets of ramen open and pours in the hot water that was situated at the back of the store, grabbing yours from you in the process. “What brings you here at this hour? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be craving ramen and chocolate milk in the middle of the night on any other day.”

“You’re right about that,” you reply dejectedly, recalling the big pile of assignments waiting for you back at the apartment. “It’s hell month in school, and I’m drowning in work. On top of that, Changbin exhausted every single food source we have at home!”

Chan does his very best to hold back his laughter at your expression; he knew you were angry, but you looked as threatening as a kitten. And thankfully he succeeds, because he really did not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath. Although, he thinks, you really are not going to be able to do much damage.

“How dare he,” Chan agrees, finally taking a seat beside you, the steam from the ramen warming his face up. “Hey but, if he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have bumped into each other here.”

You nod your head in agreement, thinking about how to start a casual conversation, when you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you knew essentially nothing about Chan. You didn’t know what university he went to, what he majored in, and what he was doing in the convenience store that late at night too.

One question at a time, you decide.

“What are you doing out this late anyway?” you ask, slurping the noodles and breathing out in relief at the taste of the ramen against your tongue.

“I come here often,” is what he replies, before taking a sip of his milk. “My uni’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I usually work the best at this time. Being a music production major, there aren’t very strict deadlines, but I’ve still got to get my shit done.”

Oh. That’s all your questions answered.

You know the trouble of trying to get questions out, especially for you, who has never really made the effort in going the extra mile in interacting with people. It’s annoying and nerve-wrecking, and probably the biggest reason why you refused making new friends. The whole process was just painful. So, when Chan answers your unasked questions, you feel the hypothetical weight lifting off your shoulder, and you open your mouth to express your gratitude. At least, that’s what you had planned to do.

“Are you a mind reader?” you blurt out, before immediately clamping your mouth shut and facepalming. “Ugh, sorry. I have a really bad habit of blurting out whatever comes to my mind.” You groan at your inconvenient habit, and Chan pats the top of your hand in hopes of comforting you.

“I just meant to say that I was thinking of asking you those questions and you answered them even before I asked.” Chan looks at you with a smile, intrigued by your personality. You clearly didn’t have any other friends other than Changbin—but you never looked as if you were upset about it. It was also clear that you were content with not interacting with people, but when you did, you were never rude about it and you really did try your best. Never in a million years would he have thought that the student scurrying around the library with tons of books would turn out to be someone like you.

“At least that means you’re an honest person!” Chan says, beaming at you. “C’mon, learn to look at the brighter side of things.”

Shrugging your shoulders with a tired smile on your face, you turn back to your ramen, which has now gone soggy due to your little chit-chat with the boy beside you.

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs between the two of you, until Chan speaks up again. “What’s your major? I realised I never asked.”

At the mention of school, you pull an automatic stank face before replying. “English Lit with a minor in Philosophy. The worst decision of my life.”

“And why’s that?”

“I never knew there’d be this much essay writing!” you cry out, throwing your head against the table. The rest of your words come out muffled, but somehow Chan manages to catch it. “I mean, I knew there was going to be lots of essays. But not this much.”

“In the major’s defense, that’s kind of a dumb move on your part, Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. Please don’t remind me of my idiocy.” You finally sit up, before sadly chewing on your noodles. “At least I have ramen and chocolate milk to keep me going.”

And as the night went on, both of you continued the conversation back and forth, you learning more about him and him about you. You talk about your assignments, how annoying some of your professors were, and how living with Changbin was. All the times you had to chase him to clean up after himself, or all the times he stayed up with you until ungodly hours just because you had procrastinated too much and was rushing an assignment in the last hour. You also learnt more about Chan; how he was studying music production because that was his dream since he was young, and how he actually roomed with Jisung, who was equally as messy as Changbin. The only difference was that Chan couldn’t be bothered about the mess.

“Changbin, Jisung, and I actually used to make tracks and post them on Soundcloud,” Chan says, smiling as he recalls the three high schoolers cooped up in his room with the bare minimum equipment that wiped out half their savings. “We even had rapper names.”

“Ooooo~” you tease, nudging his shoulder as his ears start to turn a bright red. “What was yours?”

“What’s in the past should stay in the past, Y/n. Let bygones be bygones. No point talking about it now.”

“Awww, c’mon!” You plead, fidgeting in your seat. “Was it something embarrassing like Cheminem, or something?”

“I can’t help but feel more relaxed when your standards are that low,” Chan says, with some form of relief in his voice. “Uh, mine was CB97.”

“Don’t tell me…” you mutter, eyes wide as the laughter threatens to escape your lips. “Did you really just use your initials and your birth year? Talk about bare minimum!”

“Hey! It’s better than Meminen, or Cheminem, or whatever you said earlier.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you decide to probe further. “What were Jisung’s and Changbin’s?”

Chan stares at you with wide eyes, your mischievous eyes giving away your evil plans. “No. Changbin will kill me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper! I’ll treat you to ramen next time if you tell me.” You try tempting Chan with food, with no hopes that it would work. But somehow, you see his resolve crumbling, and realise that you just needed one final push.

“I’ll get you chocolate milk and two packets of ramen.”

At that point, Chan regrets telling you his habit of eating two packets of ramen with chocolate milk almost every night when he stays up. “You shouldn’t have given me the milk then!” is what you said while chiding him, and he just claimed that “you looked like you needed it more than me” while saying that he really wasn’t picky about the flavour of milk.

So when you tempt him with his cravings, he has no choice but to give in.

Twenty minutes later, you walk into your shared apartment, a mysterious smile playing on your lips as you drop the keys into the little holder by the door. It was made by yours truly during a random pottery workshop you signed up for. The shape was slightly off, and the colour wasn’t bright or vibrant—but it worked and that’s what mattered.

At the sound of the keys clinking in the holder, Changbin’s head shoots up to gauge your mood from your expression. Surely you would be at least a little less angry after your little run to the convenience store, he thought.

But instead of seeing a blank expression, or even an angry one, he sees the smile on your face and his heart drops. Why were you smiling? The fact that you were smiling made him feel a hundred times worse, and he had already started saying his prayers.

“So, Changbin…” you start, leaning against one of the chairs at the dining table. You weren’t even angry about the empty shelves anymore, but you just could not pass on the opportunity of teasing your best friend. “Or should I say, SpearB?”

And you’re more than content with the way his face morphs into that of horror, as he grips the edges of the table. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper; one would think that the whole world had found out about his darkest secret from the way he was reacting.

Shrugging playfully, you go back to your seat and sort out the papers scattered around the table, grabbing your laptop to start working on your assignment again with a full and happy stomach. “Who knows~”

“Y/n, tell me,” he starts to whine, making his way to you on his roller chair. “No one knows other than the boys-”

And the realisation of who the culprit was hits him.

“It was Chan, right?” he asks, already reaching for his phone to scold the older boy. “You must have met him when you went to the store—he’s always getting ramen there.” Typing furiously on his phone, he pauses to look up and whine again. “I can’t believe you two gossiped about me! And it was me who made you both become friends. The disrespect!”

Finally the laughter you had been holding in breaks out and floods the living room, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe,” you start, trying to catch your breath as you continue laughing. “SpearB! What do you do? Impale people with your sharp flow and rhyme?”

“Just shut up, please,” Changbin pleads, plugging his ears with his fingers. “La la la, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He rolls back to his side of the table and grabs the headphones, shoving it over his head to drown out your laughter.

Your laugh fest is cut off by your phone vibrating, signalling that you had a new text message. Grabbing it, you tap your phone a few times to open up the messages page.

chan: can’t believe you outed me to changbin chan: traitor y/n: drama queen y/n: i said nth, he figured it out on his own chan: ఠ_ಠ

Giggling at the emoticon Chan used, you unconsciously lean back in your seat as you search your gallery for an emoticon to reply with, assignments forgotten.

“Who’re you texting?” Changbin asks, having heard you giggle at your phone. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, and you knew it was better to answer him, because a curious Changbin is a dangerous Changbin, and he’ll probably stomp over and snatch your phone to see who you were texting anyway. “It’s Chan.”

“When did you two exchange numbers?!”

“Earlier, when we met at the convenience store.”

It was right before the both of you parted ways; when Chan had proposed something that was pretty much impossible to turn down.

“I had fun today,” he said, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other swung the plastic bag containing some chocolates to add to his secret sweet stash. “You said you’re having hell month, right? Hit me up whenever you need an emergency ramen run.” And with that, he pushed his phone into your hands, signalling for you to do the same.

Smiling to yourself, you keyed in your number into the phone clutched in your hand, saving yourself as “Y/n”, and before you could regret your decision, you quickly added a smiley after your name and tossed the phone back to Chan. “Here you go.”

The cool metal is being pressed into your hands, and before you know it, you’ve said your farewell to Chan and were on your way back home.

“Look at you socialising out of your own will,” Changbin states proudly, wiping an imaginary tear as he gives you a fatherly (or what he thinks is fatherly) smile. “Albeit, at the expense of my shame, but if it means my little Y/n making more friends then why not!”

“Please stop, you’re an embarrassment to me, yourself, and literally everyone around us,” you deadpan, clearing your side of the table up. It was time to call it a night, because God knows you’re not going to be able to do anymore work. “Besides, it’s really not that big of a deal. I doubt we’ll continue talking after tonight. It’s probably a one-off thing.”

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be too sure,” Changbin muses. “I feel like there’s something that’ll come out of this.”

vii.

Seo Changbin isn’t a lot of things.

He isn’t tidy, opting to throw his clothes all around his room instead of folding it; he isn’t patient, always screaming at you to “Hurry your ass!” when he had been waiting barely three minutes; and last but not least, he definitely isn’t punctual. “Changbin is my name, and being late is my game” is something you’ve heard way too often from him that it was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him yet.

Changbin isn’t a lot of things—but what he somehow is, is intuitive when it comes to you.

So when you find yourself back at the convenience store at 12:30 a.m., ramen and chocolate milk in front of you as you laugh over some stupid story Chan was saying, you can’t help but curse at how right your best friend was.

You were reaching the end of your hell month, which also indicated it being four weeks since you and Chan had developed the routine of pigging out at the convenience store at terrible hours.

“... and he just fell off the tree!” Chan concludes his story of how Hyunjin fell off a tree in high school, words coming out breathless due to how much the both of you were laughing. “Ah, that brings back memories.”

“I can’t believe I never talked to you guys more then,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It would’ve been hilarious.”

“Someone was too busy with Voldemort,” Chan teases, pushing his nose down flat in what you could only describe as a Voldemort impression. Laughing, you swat his hand away while rolling your eyes at the boy you’ve grown so fond of in a span of four weeks. “Why’d you never talk to us?”

Thinking back to high school, you ask yourself. Why didn’t you ever bother talking to them?

“I guess it’s just cause I already had Changbin,” you start, pausing to think back to the past few years. “As much as I complain about him, he’s really one of the greatest best friends anyone could ask for.”

It was true; Changbin was there for you during high school like no one else had been, and for that you were eternally grateful for him.

“So you were scared to take any other chances since you already got the best?”

People always asked you why you didn’t make more friends in high school. Hell, even your mother kept asking, when other parents struggled to keep their children at home just because they were spending too much time out with friends. But the answer to that question was something you never thought about, and you can’t stop the feeling of shock spreading through your body at what the boy in front of you had just so casually uttered.

You were scared.

“I-I…” you stutter, eyes wide as you stare at the boy in front of you. Chan can’t help the worry that seeps into his face at his words, and he’s starting to wonder if he said anything wrong. “I’ve never ever thought about it. But, oh my God, that makes so much sense.”

After years of waving everyone who asked you why you never made any other friends away just because you yourself didn’t have the answer to the question, you’re hit with a huge realisation of just why you didn’t want to find more friends. And it wasn’t even you who figured it out.

This boy sitting leisurely in front of you, skin pale and soft, with messy black hair framing his face that he never bothered brushing away. This boy, who was as kind as he was hardworking, always willing to help out anyone, even with his own responsibilities. This boy who had been readily there for you at the devil hours for almost every day in the past four weeks, always checking up on you to make sure that you were surviving.

Never in a million years would you have expected someone to figure out something that was locked away so deep inside of your heart, and for it to be Chan, out of everyone. The thought makes your heart race a little, but you decide to blame it on the conversation the both of you were having. It was definitely not because of the boy seated beside you.

“Shocking, huh,” Chan starts, laughing slightly as the worry he had felt earlier replaced with something he could only describe as fondness. “It’s a pity though.”

You look at him questioningly, and what he says next makes you realise a few things that maybe you were better off not realising.

“We would’ve been much happier in high school with you there. I would’ve been much happier.”

As much as you regretted not befriending the other seven boys in high school, you were starting to regret bumping into Chan that very first night even more. If you hadn’t bumped into him, you would’ve never spent so much time with him, never realised how great of a person he was, and lastly, you would’ve never started falling for Bang Chan.

viii.

It’s like déjà vu.

With your exams and assignments completed, you find yourself watching the latest season of Haikyuu when Changbin enters the room, waltzing towards your reclined figure.

“Y/n~” Changbin starts, poking your shoulder to get your attention. “Whatever your annoying ass needs now, it’s a no,” you say without even turning to look at the boy beside you.

“Oh? Even if it was an invitation to dinner with the boys later tonight?”

And when your head whips to the side to look at your best friend, you’re so tempted to just wipe that smirk clean off his face, because the bitch knew you would have said yes.

“I fucking hate you,” is what you can mutter, before switching the television and throwing the remote to the side, choosing to ignore Changbin as you walk towards your room to pick an outfit. But you’re forced to stop in your tracks when Changbin casually utters the next few words.

“Chan’s especially excited to see you.”

You’re not sure what Changbin means by that, but there’s no denying the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the dimpled boy.

“What?” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as you could, hoping that your best friend wouldn’t pick up the slight quiver in your voice. But, of course, he wasn’t your best friend for nothing.

“I said, your little boyfriend’s excited to see you.” Changbin smirks at your expression, stretching his legs out to rest it on the coffee table in front of your sofa. “And it looks like you’re just as excited.”

Red travels up your neck and spreads across your face, as you sputter at your best friend’s preposterous words. “W-what are you- I- Huh-”

Realising that your little breakdown wasn’t helping your case at all, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before speaking to the insolent brat in front of you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, and the first instinct you have is to play dumb. “O-of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I will pretend like I did not hear that pathetic attempt of you trying to act dumb,” Changbin states robotically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious. So stop pretending and just fess up. It’ll be easier for the both of us.”

You had two choices now: Either fess up and prepare yourself for at least a thousand years of teasing, or just completely deny it till your deathbed.

Clearly, the second option was much more appealing.

“No, Changbin,” you snap with as much conviction as you could. “I do not have a crush on Chan. He’s just a really good friend.”

The knowing look on his face wavers, and you know that you’re seconds away from success. It’s not that you did not trust your best friend with the information of you having a crush on one of his friends. You just did not want to say it out loud—saying it out loud would mean that you were confirming it, and there will be no going back. And that scared you.

You were scared of liking someone who was way too perfect, and who probably would never like you back.

So the best solution was to keep your little crush hidden away in the depths of your heart, and slowly get over it as soon as you could. It was as easy as it could get.

ix.

Apparently, you realise, it wasn’t at all easy to get over a simple crush.

The smell of meat fills your nostrils as the eight boys chatter loudly over the sound of the sizzling of the food. You’re back at the same restaurant, with the same boys, except it wasn’t exactly the same as the last time.

This time, you had a raging crush on the boy who insisted on sitting beside you, leg brushing against yours every few seconds as he piles the food on your plate instead of his.

It definitely didn’t help that every time your hands brushed while reaching out for the side dishes around the table, you pulled your hand back as if you had just been burned, ears immediately heating up.

“Did you know Chan told Y/n about 3RACHA?” Changbin whines to Jisung, making him stop his actions mid-way, meat hanging from the chopsticks just a few inches away from his mouth. “All I heard the past few weeks was ‘SpearB, help me’, ‘SpearB, go there’. It was torture.”

The table goes silent at the new information Changbin had revealed, and all you can do is smile sheepishly as your friends stare at the both of you.

“These two have been meeting almost everyday the past few weeks to get ramen at weird timings, and I’m pretty sure Y/n has lots of quality dirt on us now,” Changbin says pointedly, completely ignoring the way your eyes widened because why would he just say that?

It already wasn’t easy keeping Changbin in check with his little fantasies every time you went out to meet Chan, and now it was going to be worse because you just knew that the six other boys were going to question you from their expressions.

You turn to look at Chan, expecting to see the same ‘busted’ expression on his face, but all you see is a guilty smile, before he opens his mouth to speak. “In my defense, I was bribed.”

“Yes but, you never told us your 3RACHA names even after we kept begging you for weeks,” Hyunjin speaks up, eyes wide in disbelief. “We had to bribe you with a new game for your console, but you just told Y/n after two packets of ramen and chocolate milk?”

Your heart rate picks up speed just a fraction after hearing Hyunjin’s words, and you can’t help but feel a little special that Chan was comfortable enough to tell you things he refused to tell others. There’s a small smile playing at your lips as you look at the boy beside you, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried his best to defend himself from the accusations that were now pouring out from all his friends.

Unbeknownst to you, your own best friend was watching the both of you since the night started, a glint in his eye as he catches the way you threw small glances at his friend, blushing every time your hands brushed or when Chan purposely picked out the meat that was grilled best to put on your plate.

He also didn’t miss the soft smile playing at Chan’s lips every time you laughed at another stupid joke Jisung cracked, head thrown back slightly as you clutched your stomach, or the way his eyes widened every time you leaned a little too close to him to reach for a side dish.

Fools, is what he thinks when he eyes his two best friends. Fools in love.

The night goes on, and it’s Changbin who proposes a game of who can finish a bottle of soju the fastest to make things more exciting. You already know how it was going to end when you see the soju bottles crowding the table, all screaming the obvious outcome of the night.

“Rule’s simple. We’ll have two people against each other, and the one that loses has to pay their opponent’s share for tonight’s dinner.”

You notice Changbin avoiding your eyes as he speaks and distributes the bottle, which could be attributed to the very scary death glare you were throwing right at him.

Here’s the thing—your alcohol tolerance was shit. And Changbin knew that, making you wonder what he had planned up his sleeve.

“Right, here’s the lineup,” he announces, making it seem as if the lot of you were in some world championship of sorts. “Hyunjin and Jisung”—there’s a loud ‘Die, bitch!’ that resounds from Jisung as they both get ready to win against each other—“Seungmin and Felix, Minho and Jeongin, and Chan and Y/n!”

You were going to kill that idiot.

Changbin starts off the game with a recap of the rules, and makes sure that everyone has their own bottle of alcohol. Disaster is the only word flashing in your mind, and you’re on the verge of ditching your friends to return to the comfort of your room.

“Jisung and Hyunjin first!” Changbin instructs, to which the two boys grab their bottles and have a stare-down with each other.

“I’m gonna win so hard, your ancestors are gonna feel it.”

“Let’s see you try, pretty boy.”

On Changbin’s cue, the two boys start gulping down the alcohol, and you visibly cringe at the ghost feeling of the taste on your tongue.

“Are you okay?” Chan whispers from beside you, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s a stupid game. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

There’s a grateful smile on your face as you shake your head, letting the boy know you were okay. “I’m fine. Just worried because my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good, and I don’t want to inconvenience all of you.”

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” Chan mutters softly, staring right into your eyes. The smile slowly drops from your face as your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words and the way he was looking at you. You so badly wanted to look away, not being used to such eye contact, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze away from his twinkling eyes.

The sound of a bottle being slammed onto the table snaps you out of your little moment with Chan, and you immediately turn away to look at what was happening at the table, taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm yourself.

On the other side of the table, you realise that Hyunjin was the one who finished his bottle first, now having the time of his life teasing Jisung, who had about one quarter of the bottle left.

All the boys, except Chan and Felix, were laughing their asses off—Felix was the only one comforting Jisung, while Chan was staring at the table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“There, there. It’s okay, Sung,” Felix coos, patting Jisung’s hair, as the latter sulks at his loss.

The next two rounds proceed quickly, with Seungmin and Jeongin emerging as the winners. Everyone stares shell shocked, as Jeongin gulps down the liquid with vigour and speed, and slams his bottle down onto the table with a grin.

“There’s no way! I can’t believe Minho lost to a baby!”

“Just because he’s the youngest doesn’t mean he’s a baby, Changbin.” Seungmin deadpans, swiftly moving the empty bottles to the side of the table. “And how come you’re not participating?”

“Someone needs to bring Y/n back,” Changbin shrugs, passing the bottles to Chan and you with a guilty smile in return to your scowl. “And I’d rather stay sober when taking care of drunk children.”

You turn to pass the bottle to Chan, quickly avoiding his gaze when he looks at you. You’re not confident in your abilities to keep the blush down if he was going to look at you the way he did before.

“Okay,” Changbin cues, making sure both of you were ready with the bottle caps off. “Ready, set… Go!”

You didn’t mind paying for Chan’s share for dinner, you really didn’t. But if there was something about you that was both your downfall and pride, it was your competitiveness. You were competitive to the point where you tended to disregard the consequences of your actions.

So, your brain doesn’t register the painful consequences of your actions as you gulp down the bottle of alcohol like your life depended on it. You weren’t the best drinker out there, but you were going to try your very damn best because it was a competition.

With no expectation of winning, you swallow the last drop of soju and slam the bottle back onto the table, when you realise that everyone was staring at the two of you with their mouths open—specifically at Chan.

Following their gaze, your eyes widen in surprise as you see the boy holding an almost half-full bottle of soju, clearly indicating that you were the winner of your little game.

It’s like a dam breaks, and suddenly everyone’s shouting at the unexpected outcome. Hyunjin and Jisung scream while looking back and forth the bottle and Chan, while Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin sit with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to process that Chan just lost to you.

On the other hand, Changbin watches Chan with a smirk, which slowly drops when he realises that Minho, who was sitting beside him, was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly asking the question ‘What the fuck just happened?’.

Just as he’s about to pull Changbin to the side to question him, you shoot up from your seat, stumbling around almost immediately because of the sudden bout of dizziness that hit you. You fall back onto your seat as fast you had gotten up, and Chan wraps an arm around you almost instinctively, making sure you didn’t fall off your seat.

The table is back to having their own conversations a few minutes later, as if they weren't just screaming over your victory, with Hyunjin and Jisung having a rock-paper-scissors tournament between themselves, proposed by Jisung who was still sore about losing to Hyunjin.

Alcohol clouds your mind as your head lols back and forth, with soft giggles spilling from your lips. In your drunken state, you register the arm wrapped around you, and you turn your head to look for the owner of said arm.

Chan looks at you with the fondest smile as he tries to hold back his own chuckles at how cute your giggles were, at the same time being extremely conscious of the way you fit perfectly around his arms. He thanks his lucky stars that you were drunk as he held you, assuring him that there was no way you were going to hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Oh?” you drawl, squinting at the boy beside you. “Who might you be?”

And at that very moment, Chan hopes with all his heart that there is no one else who will get to witness what he was seeing right in front of him.

There are strands of hair covering your face, cheeks red from the alcohol (and from the close proximity to him, but he doesn’t need to know that) and eyes drooping from the oncoming sleepiness. Yet, to him, you were still the most beautiful in that moment.

“I’m Chan,” he replies sweetly, hesitating for a moment before adding more to the sentence. “Your friend.”

An exaggerated gasp escapes you as your eyes widen comically. Words tumble from your mouth, with hiccups disrupting your sentences every now and then. “Chan? Bang Chan? From high school? The really, um-" hiccup "-cute boy who tutored in the library? The super popular dude? You’re my-" hiccup "friend?”

There’s a light pink flush dusting his cheeks at your words, but he laughs nonetheless while nodding, finger reaching out to tap your nose. “Yes, I am.”

Scrunching your nose at the contact, you continue giggling when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the little exchange you and Chan were having. Chan turns to face his friends, and immediately starts coughing when he realises that they had been watching the whole scene with amused expressions. He awkwardly retracts his arm from around your waist, only for you to get up and stumble over to where Changbin was sitting, arms reaching out towards him while making grabby hands. “Changbinnnn~”

You plop yourself onto his lap, arms encircling his neck as you pull his ear closer to your mouth. Used to your drunk antics, he concedes, knowing that he’ll end up with more damage if he didn’t listen to you when you were drunk.

When he is close enough, you cup your hands around your mouth and whisper into his ears. At least, you thought you were whispering.

“You have really cute friends, Changbin.”

The whole table erupts into cheers at your words, and you immediately cover your mouth with a horrified expression. “Did everyone hear that?”

“You weren’t very quiet, darling,” Changbin snorts, pulling you up with him as he stands. “How are all of you getting back?”

“We’re all crashing at Felix’s place,” Seungmin speaks up, tapping away on his phone. “The uber’s about to arrive… right now.”

Grabbing their things, everyone except Minho, Chan, Changbin, and you, make their way out of the restaurant, shouting out hurried farewells and promises of ‘I’ll wire the money to you when I get back!’ to Changbin.

“Okay, Minho and I will go settle the bill,” Changbin says, readjusting his grip on you. “Chan, can you look after Y/n for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan replies, looping your arm around his neck as his snakes around your waist. “We’ll be out at the front.”

The moment Chan leaves their sight with you by his side, Minho turns to bombard Changbin with all the questions that had been bothering him the whole night.

“What was that?” Minho asks in bewilderment, pointing to the door that Chan and you had exited from. “How on earth did Chan lose that game when he’s the best drinker amongst all of us?!”

“It’s called being in love,” Changbin scoffs, shaking his head at his two friends. “Disgusting.”

The distressed look on Minho’s face dissolves, and is replaced by what one could describe as enlightenment. “No fucking way. I was wondering why he kept smiling at them like an idiot. That explains so much! Have they confessed?”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes, knowing that there was no way either of you had the courage to confess first. “The only way either of them will confess is if they are drunk.”

“But Y/n is dru-” Minho starts in confusion, when he stops mid-sentence, realising what Changbin had just done. “You evil genius.”

“What can I say,” Changbin states proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “I wonder what’s going on outside,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the door.

On the other side of the door, Chan finally succeeds in getting you to sit down with him on a curb, his jacket folded neatly under your bottom to make sure that you were not sitting on the hard cement. “I’m tired,” you whine, head dropping onto the warm shoulder beside you.

Chan tenses up at the sudden contact, staring at the top of your head, when you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. At the feeling of your cheek against his shoulder, he relaxes, and positions himself such that you didn’t have to strain your neck.

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you, until you decide to break it by asking Chan a very obvious question.

“We’re close friends right?”

You lift your head from Chan’s shoulder, almost whining out loud at the loss of comfort, but you decide that asking him that question was more important. Clearly, drunk you had very different priorities.

Chan just nods and replies with a soft “Of course”, wondering why you were suddenly asking that question. “Why?”

“Since we’re close friends, can I tell you a secret?” The last few words are spoken in a hushed whisper, as you reach out and grasp Chan’s soft and warm hands. His larger hands clasps yours, as he chuckles at your question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/n. You’re drunk, and you might regret telling me when you sober up.”

“No!” You almost shout, alarming Chan who looks around to make sure no one heard your exclamation. You continue in a softer tone, to Chan’s relief. “You’re my close friend! So I won’t regret it.”

And the wide smile you show Chan almost makes him want to kiss you right there and then. Almost.

“Alright then,” Chan agrees, rubbing circles into the skin on your hand. “Go ahead, tell me your secret.”

Giggling, you use your free hand to beckon him closer, your face moving closer to his at the same time. Just as his ear is close enough to you, you whisper out the words that make his heart stop.

“I think I like you.”

He freezes in place, eyes staring at the black tar road ahead of him as his heart hammers against his ribcage because of your nonchalant words. He gulps before slowly turning to face you, the person he had grown to like more than he could ever imagine coming into his view. He takes quick, shallow breaths as he continues to stare at you, unsure of what to say.

Luckily (or unluckily, for Chan), you decide to continue talking, baring your heart and soul to him.

“It’s like...” you start, trailing off after your first two words, before finding the right words to continue. “It’s like I was always happy in life, but you made me realise that it was possible for me to be happier when you are there with me.”

And the smile you give Chan, accompanied with the words you had just uttered, makes him want to protect you from the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he loves you, but what he’s sure about is that all he wants to do is hug you and never let go, to be there for you every minute, every second. And he thinks that’s enough.

That’s enough reason to hold onto you and never let go.

Opening his mouth, Chan is about to reply to your drunk confession, when the sound of soft snores fill his ears.

Leaning against the light pole that was situated very conveniently behind you, you had fallen asleep in the split second Chan had taken to make his move. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and Chan can’t help but breath out a laugh at your timing.

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks.

There’s white noise playing in your ear as you stare up at your ceiling.

Changbin is seated at the edge of your bed saying something important, you assume. You aren’t listening; your brain cells have decided to go on a strike and replay the scene from yesterday on loop.

I think I like you.

You want to scream. You want to scream and murder the boy sitting beside you so bad. After all, it was his fault that you ingested that goddamn devil liquid that made you spill more than your guts.

It was a wonder that you were able to find a friend as precious as Chan, and there you lay in despair, all thoughts of facing Chan again slowly slipping away from your fingertips. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to see him after the stunt you pulled yesterday.

“Y/n, are you listening?!”

“No.”

A hand wraps around your arm and you feel yourself being pulled up, coming face-to-face with your distressed best friend. “Stop being stubborn. Calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

And that’s when you snap.

“Stubborn!?” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair. “I just confessed to your friend, Seo Changbin. I was drunk, and I confessed my very large and real crush to the person I am crushing on. I have ruined any chance at friendship with him, so don’t tell me to stop being stubborn and to calm down!”

Taking a deep breath, Changbin pulls you towards him, both his hands resting against your cheeks. “Listen here. Stop being a wuss. Yes, you confessed when you were drunk. Yes, it’s embarrassing as fuck. But get over it. You know Chan. Is he the kind of asshole who drops friendship over small things like rejection?”

There’s a pout playing at your lips as you shake your head, partly due to the way Changbin was squishing your cheeks, and the other half because you knew he was right.

“But I still don’t want to face him yet,” you whine, pushing his hands away from your face and diving back into your covers. “I just want to wallow in self pity, and hopefully waste away on this bed so that I’ll never have to face anyone ever again.”

Changbin knows that there was no convincing you otherwise, so he settles for sighing and getting up from your bed.

“Don’t stay in bed for too long. I’ll order us food for later.”

Muttering something under your breath, you roll over and bury your face into your pillow, sighing as you think about the boy whose smile gave you more warmth than the sun could ever provide.

You’re in the midst of imagining how different today would’ve been if you hadn’t opened your dumb mouth when your phone rings and cuts off your thoughts. Reaching out for it, your mouth runs dry when you see the name displayed on your screen.

“Chan :)”

Your finger presses the decline button and your phone clatters against your bedside table as you decide that you are not ready to talk to Chan yet. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready to talk to him, let alone face him.

A minute after declining the call, there’s a series of knocks on your door, and you shout out a “Go away!”, not wanting to hear anything related to Chan and how you need to stop being a coward. But as the knocking continues, getting louder as time passes, you start getting annoying and realise you have no choice but to open the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chang-”

You cut yourself off as you take in the person standing in front of you with wide eyes, looking as handsome as ever even with the furious look painted on his face.

The silence is thick with tension, and you can’t help but avert your eyes, choosing to look at anything but the boy in front of you.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Chan asks, voice quiet and flat. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning.”

“Um, I-” you start, not knowing how to answer his question. You imagined your day going various ways, but this definitely wasn’t in your plans. “Did Changbin call you?”

“I asked,” he starts, walking towards you. You take a few steps a back, and continue walking backwards until your hands come into contact with your dresser. You were trapped. “Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?”

You blink rapidly, not used to this closed-off version of Chan. The usual warmth and softness in his eyes were missing, and instead all you saw was disappointment and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t easy to get the words out.

“Was it funny messing with me?” Chan continues, not breaking eye contact with you once. “To just get my hopes up and disappear like it all meant nothing?”

“W-what?”

“How was it so easy for you to just start ignoring me?”

“No I-”

“Is that all I mean to you?” And instead of the disappointment and anger, you see pure, unfiltered hurt, and that was enough for your walls to come crashing down. Tears well up in your eyes as you look at the boy in front of you, and it’s like a dam breaks.

“I’m sorry.” Sobs wreck your body as you wipe the tears that don’t seem to stop. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, Chan. I was scared.”

“Scared because you just said that in the spur of moment and you don’t actually mean it?”

“No, I was scared because I like you too fucking much!”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you, and you continue staring at the floor, vision blur with stubborn tears that refuse to fall. And that’s when you hear it.

A chuckle.

It’s soft, and you would’ve missed it if not for the pin drop silence in the room.

You slowly lift your head up to confirm if you actually heard what you heard, or if you were hallucinating, when you see it.

Chan was smiling.

“Can’t believe it worked.”

What on earth did that mean?

“W-what do you mean?” you ask, sniffing softly.

“This was Changbin’s idea. For the record, I was against it.” Chan’s hands come up to rest on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks as he smiles softly at you. “I mean, of course I was hurt and worried. But I just wanted to come over and talk it over like a normal person.”

His smile widens as one hand continues cupping your face, while the other reaches to tuck the one stray strand of hair behind your ear. “He said you’ll never admit things unless I, uh, scared you a little.

You stare at Chan as the gears work in your head, putting the pieces of information. The moment the last piece clicks in place, you stare in shock at the boy standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, equal parts of relief and anger taking over your mind. “I fucking hate you!”

And with that you storm off towards your door, Chan chasing after you with apologies spilling from his mouth. But the both of you knew that you weren’t actually upset, which can be seen by the giggles accompanying every apology.

Just as you’re about to leave your room, you’re pulled back into warm arms, and you fight every urge to melt right into his embrace. His arms wrap around your frame tightly, but gently. You feel his strong heartbeat against your back, and it’s enough to make you shiver, goosebumps erupting all over your skin.

“Do you hate me?” Chan asks, chin resting on your shoulder as you feel his breath tickle your neck.

“Yes.”

“Really?” Chan asks in amusement, lips against your ears and voice just above a whisper. “That’s a pity then. Because I like you too fucking much too.”

He whispers the last part of the sentence, making your knees go weak and your heartbeat pick up its pace as it usually does whenever the boy who stole your heart was involved.

You turn around in his arms to face him, sighing contentedly at how things ended up turning out. “I’m really sorry about the ghosting.”

“It’s okay, love,” Chan assures you, the pet name inducing butterflies in your stomach. “I would’ve been embarrassed too, if I had confessed to you when I was drunk.”

“I would’ve loved to see that.” You whine at the unfortunate circumstance of you confessing instead of Chan. “I probably looked like an idiot while confessing.”

“Since I’m your boyfriend, can I tell you a secret?” Chan teases, repeating what you said the night before with a little twist. Smacking his arm lightly for the jab, you nod with a laugh, ignoring the way your face heats up when he refers to himself as your boyfriend.

“I really wanted to kiss you when you were confessing.” There’s mirth in Chan’s eyes as he gazes at you the same way he did back at the restaurant. The only difference was that you knew he liked you back. And you had never been happier.

“Go for it.”

And that’s all the confirmation that Chan needs to lean down and press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, as your hands rest on his chest, appreciating the strong beat his heart was playing.

You part a few seconds later, eyes still closed as a smile plays on both your lips, before you’re pulled for another kiss, this one more forceful than the one before. His lips press against yours harder, and his arms pull you closer—as close as you could be. You respond with equal fervor, pouring every emotion you have into the kiss, when you’re interrupted by a loud cough.

“I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to bleach my eyes every time I see the two of you.”

Oh.

It completely slipped your mind that Changbin was just a few steps away from your room, and you want to crawl under your bed and befriend the monster there when you see the haughty smile on your best friend’s face.

“I think a thanks is in order.”

Removing yourself from Chan’s arms, you walk over to Changbin, who smiles wider when he realises you are walking towards him. Opening his arms to welcome you in for a hug, he can’t help but shriek when you start punching him everywhere possible.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!”

“That’s what you get for coming up with stupid ideas to get me to talk!” you snap at your best friend with words that carry no real bite. “Were you that desperate?”

“Clearly!” Changbin replies, exasperated. “It was getting depressing. He wouldn’t stop calling me because he was worried, and you were being a stubborn bitch!”

At his words, there’s a tinge of guilt that pinches at you when you realise the trouble you had put your best friend through.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say with a pout, burying your face into Changbin’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Yes yes, you’re welcome,” Changbin says with a soft smile. He wouldn’t admit it just yet, but seeing his best friend who meant the world to him end up with someone who just as much deserved nothing but the best made him eternally grateful. “Now go smooch your boyfriend. We don’t want him becoming too jealous of the attention you’re giving me.”

“Oh, shut up,” is what Changbin gets in return, as Chan intertwines his hand with yours. Just as Changbin walks out of sight back to his room, Chan turns to you with the biggest smile.

“Now then, shall we go on a date to celebrate our first day?”

“Absolutely.”

And as you and Chan sit on the beach that evening, surrounded by sand and accompanied by the sound of the waves and the soft breeze with a orange hue enveloping you, you think:

Life had never been sweeter.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids #bang chan #stray kids fluff #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshot #skz x reader #skz fluff #chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan oneshot #dee scribbles

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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I kinda wonder, what could bakugou do (hori write bakugou to do) to make him less popular with the "anti" crowd. Like He was a horrid child no doubt and people who try to put blame on Deku or lessen the terrible shit bakugou did aren't great. But as we don't rly see it, we have to assume bakugous behaviour wasn't stopped, we only ever saw his mum "punishing" him when he was being rude after getting kiddnapped. Nothing will excuse what bakugou did, but he has stopped? He's overall a harsh person but he's not harrassing and bullying people anymore, specifically not deku, he's trying to attone for what he did to deku and has now apologised for it. His behaviour was never viewed as justified or good in the series, he's a scary figure in middle school, we're not meant to like his behaviour, so the series itself hasn't justified his actions.

As someone who relate to both bakugou and deku more than I'd like to admit (never told someone to jump tho, that's fucked lol) so I can 100% understand not liking or even hating bakugou but as someone who's not 15 anymore, looking back I also made a lot of really shitty decisions and like bakugou have tried to make up for it, and like deku I was 'friends' with people who hurt me.

Is there anything he can do for the "antis" to just dislike him rather that be "anti"?

(I'm very sorry if you've talked about this somewhere, you can just tell me to look for it if you have, I'll continue to look for your posts on the subject)

Hey there, anon! I think I’ve spoken about this only tangentially and/or in my main Bakugo meta, which is too big for anyone sane to read. So yeah, let’s chat here!

For me personally—and that’s all I can ever do: speak personally. I think it’s important to keep in mind that there is no single solution to please the “anti” crowd. Each fan will be looking for something slightly different in Bakugo’s character, much of which might contradict what a “stan” is currently enjoying. Given how charged a character he is, I'm not sure it's possible to get the entire fandom to like him—what I’m looking for hinges on having a different reading of the story than you seem to. Meaning, I think the series does justify his behavior. Not in any overt, super obvious way like having all the characters go, “Wow, Bakugo! I sure do love how you threaten people all the time. That’s super cool and heroic!” Things are rarely that straightforward. Rather, it’s in a more subtle, but consistent manner that paints a rather conclusive picture across hundreds of chapters.

Simply put, Bakugo is continually rewarded for his actions. Or, if not outright rewarded, his actions are ignored in a way that implies silent acceptance. Characters may not always like what he does... but they're willing to let it slide because Bakugo's heroism was always treated as a given, not something he had to earn and prove.

With the ever necessary disclaimer that I’m not fully caught up yet, here’s a list of some of the things that stood out to me in the first half of the series:

Bakugo’s bullying made him the most popular kid in school.

Bakugo’s bullying was ignored by/outright supported by the teachers.

Bakugo’s bullying did not hinder him from getting into U.A., one of the most prestigious hero schools around.

Despite acting horribly throughout his time at U.A. too, this behavior was continually ignored by the teachers and other authority figures around him.

Bakugo’s struggle to realize that other people aren’t “trash” doesn’t hurt his achievements in any way. He still gets top scores, still wins the tournament, etc.

Bakugo’s behavior gets him special attention from All Might, the greatest hero and Bakugo’s personal idol.

His behavior doesn’t make others dislike him in any manner that’s taken seriously. Everybody is still willing to not just put up with Bakugo, but—in time—start treating his behavior as a quirk (no pun intended lol) that they’re secretly fond of, rather than something he should legitimately be striving to change. Kirishima is the most overt example of this.

This is compounded by his behavior constantly being framed as humorous. Much like with Mineta’s perverted actions, characters might superficially go, “No, that’s bad!” but the story never demands any significant development because then we’d lose the “joke” of Bakugo screaming in rage at the slightest inconvenience, threatening to murder someone over nothing, constantly belittling everyone around him in a “funny” manner, etc. When fans talk about development of a manga character as archetypal and extreme as Bakugo, most don’t really want to see significant change to his base personality. Because then that would result in someone who doesn’t look like the “real” Bakugo: someone nicer, more even-tempered, more mature, etc. But for those of us who were never drawn to that personality in the first place, the continued acceptance of his rude, egotistical, and violent behavior is discomforting. The easiest comparison I can draw is between this and Bakugo’s mother slapping him. That slap is meant to be another “joke”—we see it constantly in shonen anime, something "humorous" you shouldn’t take too seriously because haha, it's just an overprotective mother—but many fans do take it seriously, using it as the basis for a whole “Bakugo was abused and this explains his behavior” reading. Well, I take the “joke” of Bakugo’s threats and insults seriously, especially in a story that starts with something like telling Izuku to jump off the roof. In the same way that many fans want others to treat Bakugo’s mother as a serious topic that has had a negative influence on his development, I want the series to take Bakugo’s everyday actions seriously as a negative influence on… well, everyone around him. But it doesn’t. His base personality is grudgingly adored.

The above two points are seen most overtly in Izuku, who never wavers in his respect for Bakugo despite how Bakugo treats him. Not just prior to U.A., but during their training too. Izuku, as the protagonist, is the emotional heart of this tale, so when he talks about how inspiring Bakugo is, it encourages the reader to see his behavior as inspiring too. Rather than, as said, something that needs to change. Izuku's continued friendship with Bakugo, his adoration of him, and his acceptance of the way he's treated has severely warped how the entire story sees Bakugo's actions. After all, if #pure Izuku can see the good in Bakugo, why can't everyone else? He must not be that bad after all.

I could get into detailed analyses of all the above—like how Bakugo was the one comforted after attacking Izuku outside the dorms at night and how the messed up relationship he has with Izuku is upheld as something to nurture; how the remedial courses he had to take were made to be rather silly, thereby undermining their supposed importance to his development; how Bakugo’s kidnapping had nothing to do with his flaws, but much of the fandom uses it as a way to dismiss any appropriate consequences because, “Hasn’t he suffered enough?” etc.—but in the interest of keeping this within a readable length, I’ll leave it at that. The point is that Bakugo has always been privileged when it comes to his behavior, resulting in others either outright praising it, ignoring it, or demanding that he change a miniscule bit, which always keeps him far below the standards of both his peers and the expectations of a hero. Everyone in 1-A must learn to be even better than the good people they already are... Bakugo needs to learn that other people aren't dirt at the bottom of his shoes. It's never been a particularly impressive development when pit against the rest of the class. All of which can make something like an apology feel pretty hollow. Yes, he’s apologized and I say with all seriousness that that’s great! But how does that apology stack up against 300+ chapters of content? As Bakugo’s words highlight, he's been a really awful person up "until now": he was consumed by Izuku being “miles ahead of [him],” he “looked down on [him]” because he didn’t have a quirk, he “didn’t want to recognize that,” he “hated that,” “grew distant,” “tried to beat you down,” “opposed you and tried to show my superiority over you,” and ends it all with, “it probably doesn’t mean anything telling you all this” before finally getting to the “I’m sorry.” This is basically a laundry list of how horrible a person Bakugo has been for the entire series, with an acknowledgement that this apology is coming really, really late. This is the moment where I could START to like Bakugo, depending on how he acts form here on out, but that pivotal moment arrived after six years of content and in the final arc of the story. It’s too late. Bakugo needed this kind of self-reflection and positive action 250+ chapters ago so he could (hopefully) grow into a better person across the story, not at the story's end. What we got instead is 322 chapters of him being a really horrible person, but the story going out of its way to excuse or even praise that behavior the majority of the time.

As a quick comparison to end on, I think what Bakugo needed was what Soo Jin got in True Beauty. You don’t need to have seen the drama to follow along. The tl;dr is that she has a lot of the core qualities of Bakugo: an all-consuming drive to win that was created due to abusive parents with high expectations, resulting in her bullying a peer to a pretty horrific extent. The difference between them is how the story frames their actions. When Soo Jin becomes the bully she loses everything. Rather than succeeding academically, her grades plummet, making it clear that this anxiety and self-doubt (things the fandom keeps insisting Bakugo is struggling with, but that rarely ever show up in the text) is actually impacting her day-to-day life. Her best friend drops her because she’s not going to support her choices. The boy she likes rejects her. She’s eventually forced to start over somewhere new - which importantly separates her from the girl she was bullying - and get some distance from her parents, resulting in the growth needed to become a healthier, happier, good person again. So when Soo Jin apologizes to the girl she hurt, it feels earned. The story continually recognized how horrific her actions were and put her into a place where she either had to change, or continue losing at everything else that was important to her. Bakugo? Bakugo doesn’t lose. Oh, he claims he does because he’s comparing himself to Izuku constantly, but that’s just him thinking in extremes. He still wins academically. Still wins many battles. Still wins at having friends. Still wins by maintaining the prestige of being a U.A. student. Still wins by getting All Might’s attention. Still wins by receiving Izuku’s respect and an agreement to maintain this rivalry that Bakugo is so obsessed with. Bakugo comes out well 99% of the time, he just thinks he's "lost" because he can't stand not being the absolute best.

For me, the story needed to have Bakugo face consequences for his behavior, not receive rewards and/or have others ignore it, and that revelation/apology needed to come way, way sooner. For me the issue is not a specific action that Horikoshi can have Bakugo do in the next chapter and them bam, I like him now. The problem is Bakugo’s entire concept, how he’s received by the entire cast, and his run across this entire series. "Entire" is the key word there. Which is why the “But he’s apologized. What more do you antis want?” reactions don’t sit well. What we wanted is a better written redemption arc across those 300+ chapters, not a single scene that’s meant to have us forget all the other problems inherent in the story. At this point it’s a far more complicated situation than, “Bakugo just needs to do X, Y, and Z and then we’re golden.” At the end of the day, Horikoshi failed to make me like him as a person and I’m pretty sure he isn’t going to change Bakugo enough to make him likable to me. Bakugo was never the sort of character I’d be inclined towards without a serious, nuanced redemption arc, but sadly, a core, crucial part of that redemption arc took six years to arrive. At this point there’s no way to change the problems in Bakugo’s writing for that huge chunk of the series and not enough time left in the series, it seems, to do the work we should have seen across the entire run. Honestly, idk if the Bakugo we'll get going forward is someone I can just dislike as opposed to being really uncomfortable with, but my money is on there being too little story left and too much investment in upholding Bakugo's base personality for that to happen. I could absolutely be proven wrong! But I think the problems are structural and needed to be better dealt with from page one, not hastily patched over in the final hour.

#BNHA #My Hero Academia #anti bakugo

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

Text

Risk

Summary: Chris couldn’t believe he was finally meeting you and you were even more more perfect than what he’d seen in your music videos.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Black!Pop Star!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Daddy Kink, Face Riding, Oral (female receiving), Girl on Top, Missionary, brief doggy style

(A/N: this has been sitting in my WIPs for a minute so it’s kind of a relief to finally put it out. Anyway, like, comment, or reblog.)

Tagged: @titty-teetee, @harrysthiccthighss, @iam-laiya, @mariahthelioness29, @night-of-the-living-shred, @liquorlaughslove, @blackmissfrizzle, @whiskey-cokenfanfic, @olyvoyl, @zaddychris

There was no way Chris could have possibly focused on the interviewer’s questions when you were so close. Your tight shirt showed off your tits so well it was distracting. As you laughed, they jiggled and he couldn’t help the half smile that came on his face as he couldn’t help himself, but to take a glance.

What was fucked up was that this was for a charity. You were a pop star that was very involved in investing in programs to protect the arts. He coming from a family of theatre nerds was of course interested in the same thing. The two of you got paired up for an interview. Only meeting for the first time today as there’d been a fundraiser event. Though Chris had been obsessing over you since he’d found out your name.

The first thing that struck him about you was how goddamn gorgeous you were in person. All of the pictures of you online didn’t even do you justice. He’d went through all your albums surprising himself with how much he actually liked them. You sounded like an angel yet your lyrics could be downright filthy sometimes. When he’d watched your most recent music video, he found himself growing hard seeing you in that tiny outfit and shaking your ass.

He’d seen your music videos. Watched a few live performances. Maybe clicked on a few interviews because he needed to know how your voice sounded. None of it prepared him for reality.

Those eyes and your lips. Fuck he could kiss the fuck out of your lips. You looked like you’d just walked straight out of his fantasies.

Nothing prepared him for how your ass looked in those jeans. His hand twitched as he managed to fight off the urge to just grab it. Then there were those perfect tits. Perfectly swelled under your t-shirt. Being distracting.

His eyes raked up and down your body another time. This time you’d laughed at something he had said. He wasn’t prepared for how giggly you were. How bubbly you were.

It honestly felt like he’d known you for years with how comfortable he found himself. Like you two were old friends catching up instead of strangers. As he made a shitty attempt to respond to something the interviewer had said your head turned as you listened. “Well, the arts have always been important to me,” his voice low and raspy like he’d just woken up. “My family was insanely involved in theatre when I was growing up and I jumped around from piano to tap dancing. I even did ballet for a little.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading on your face when he’d said that. “Really?” You perked up. “I did ballet.”

Of course, he knew that already because he’d taken a look at your Wikipedia page. “Really? How long?”

“I did it for,” you drew out the last word as you thought, “ten years, I think.”

He nodded almost losing himself as he looked into your eyes. “Wow that’s a long time. You must have loved it.”

“I did.” You smiled. “It was such an important part of my life growing up. All the friends I made. The things I learned and discipline. It’s also why I’m so flexible.” You giggled looking over at him again with this look in your eyes.

Were you flirting with him?

He quirked an eyebrow also grinning. His eyes darting from your eyes to your lips then back. How were you so goddamn pretty?

The interview moved forward with you sending signals that you were definitely flirting with him. You giggled at everything he said. Had played with your hair making you crane your neck to the side. The way your tits were fucking jiggling anytime he said anything mildly amusing. How you’d positioned yourself so they were perked up towards him.

Once everything had wrapped up, the both of you had been whisked away by your respective teams. He got one last good view of you walking away before being told to move onto the next thing.

It took two hours before your paths would cross again. This time at the panel the two of you were part of. You were once again seated beside each other. You were once again giggling at everything he said, while fixing your hair craning your neck to the side, and perking your tits in his direction. His hand twitched again as he fought the urge to grab your hand when you touched his bicep playfully to add onto something he’d just said.

This time when this had come to an end he’d manage to avoid being whisked away by his team. Getting off of stage fast enough to where they didn’t even see him. You lingered behind sort of blending in with the crowd as you managed to slip away.

The two of you bumped into each other smiles immediately spreading over your faces. “Hey.” The two of you said at the same time.

You bit your lip as the corners of your mouth were turned up. He let out a sigh before swallowing. “And here I thought I’d found the perfect hiding spot,” he said.

“Actually, I’ve been eyeing this spot since we got here so I think I found it.” You joked back.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe we should wrestle over it.”

You shook your head with a pout. “Sorry I can’t do that. I’m a lover not a fighter. “

He chuckled. Fuck you were cute. “Could I be a lover and a fighter?”

“Ohhh I don’t know. I feel like that’s cheating.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to win.”

That fucking giggle. Those goddamn jiggling tits. That goddamn hair. That fucking neck. And you perking your tits out. Except this time, you gave him a pretty generous glimpse down your shirt.

“You busy after this?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Does catching up on Netflix count?”

He laughed. “Yes, but well I was thinking of going out for dinner after this thing,” he said, trying to suppress whatever urge he was constantly getting to touch you. “And, I didn’t want to look like a dick and eat alone.”

At this point we got the point of how you were trying to convey your flirty ness with him. “And?”

“And,” he started, “I was wondering if you’d wanna join me.”

You nodded. “Where we going?”

He shrugged. “Wherever you want, Honey.”

“Don’t tell me that. I can be expensive,” you seemed to purr. Everything about you was making him feel like he was fifteen again and waking up from a wet dream.

He nodded eyes drifting down to your lips. “You’d be worth every penny. Gimme your number so I can find you after?”

You nodded. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” his mouth twitched as you walked away from him. He eyed you up and down as your backside was to him. Damn your ass looked good in those jeans.

—

It’d been a pretty long day, but finally it was over. Like promised through text, you and Chris managed to get away from your teams in order to be whisked away in a town car to a bar he said was great.

The two of you talked on your way over. This time you were a little more subdued. Your voice was lower, sensual. It made him feel like someone had hugged his heart and dick at the same time.

He was sitting so close as he’d managed to get the most private booth in the place so the two of you could talk. He was so damn close to you and you hadn’t moved the whole time his arm was around you. In fact, you seemed even closer than before.

He wanted to kiss you so damn bad. “You gotta man?” He asked, before taking a sip of his beer.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ in the word.“You gotta girlfriend?”

“Nah,” he sighed. “Been single for a minute.”

You nodded. “Oh damn. You poor thing.” You rested your hand on his thigh.

“Yeah? How long you been single?” He asked grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. That twitch in his hand had finally won. Your skin was just as soft as it looked like it’d be.

You shrugged. “For like a year,” you answered. Liking the feel of his rougher hand against yours. “I get so busy I don’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, same.” He somehow managed to scoot you closer to him. “Then sometimes you meet a cute stranger and then maybe you end up taking them home to smoke.”

You chuckled. “How do you know I smoke?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone in this town smoke?”

You nodded shrugging your shoulders. “True.” You smiled. “Fine.”

After calling another town car and him paying the tab you were on his way to his place. Chris was still finding ways to touch you. Not that you were complaining that you were sitting so close.

Now the joint was resting between his lip as the television played in the background. Chris let out a big puff of smoke.

You were still sitting way to close. As he grabbed your hand again. Running his thumb across your knuckles. You were telling him a story about this photo shoot you had a few weeks ago that just so happened to be with you in lingerie. Then in turn he told you about a photo shoot he had to do for a free weeks ago where he just so happened to be shirtless the whole time.

Then you started talking about your favorite movies. To him telling you stories about all the shit that went down behind the scenes. Which led to you telling him stories about being on tour. Then you talked about music and he felt someone tug at his heart strings with the way your face lit up when talking about your favorite musicians.

He had to kiss you.

With the joint in between his fingers he leaned down to finally brush his lips against yours. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” his voice once again at that low tone, raspy like he’d just woken up.

“You think so?” You looked up at him so innocently, peering up at him through those lashes.

He took another hit of the joint before leaned back down to your mouth. He blew the smoke into your mouth before kissing you again.

You started to make out deep. Stroking his cheek with your thumb. His tongue slid against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. You moaned into his mouth suddenly feeling all airy. If Chris wasn’t holding onto you, you may have drifted away.

He leaned to the side so he could put out the joint. When both of his hands were free, he put them under your ass so he could get handfuls of each cheek in each hand. Then making it jiggle.

You broke away from him so you could finally pull that top over your head. “Fuck,” he hissed seeing the tops of your breasts. You quickly reconnected your lips. One of his hands grabbed at you through your lacy white bra.

You let out a whimper that was like music to his ears. His mouth trailed down to your neck hoping to kiss you in a spot where you’d be forced to make that noise again. You shivered as his lips left hot opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Then it was time for Chris to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his muscular physique. You put your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him more. He reached behind you to undo your bra. Your nipples all sensitive as they were exposed to the night air. Your body felt all fuzzy as you giggled when he smacked your ass.

His hands reached up to play with them. Fuck it was better than any thought he’d had about them since you’d met. Rubbing your nipples with his thumbs and making you moan.

You got off of him so you could undo your jeans. Except before you could even pull them off, he made you lay on the couch as he slid them off of you. He kissed along your stomach at first. Then he proceeded to take off your jeans and panties at the same time.

When you were finally completely exposed to him, he kissed you again. Then his mouth started practically worshipping your breasts. He licked your nipples with the tip of his tongue. He came to suck it wanting to hear that goddamn whimper again and then reeling at the other little noises you were making. “Fuck,” you moaned. He gave your other boob similar treatment before kissing a trail down to your lower half.

He could have died and gone to heaven after seeing that pretty pussy. He flicked his tongue over your clit loving the taste of your arousal. He’d pushed your thighs up so he could properly feast on you. Fuck you were so wet for him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs so he could get as deep as possible. You were moaning so much for him. The noises you were making were fucking pornographic.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

He stopped to kiss up your body so he could kiss your lips again. You could taste yourself on his lips. His fingers stayed on your pussy as he kissed you again. You gasped against him, throwing your head back.

His moved to your tits again. His tongue was craving to suck on them again as he finger fucked you. As you exploded around his fingers he decided to rub your clit to draw it out.

“Daddy!” You screamed.

“What’d you just call me, Baby?” He asked still rubbing your clit as you clung to him.

“I- I,” you stuttered, but it was hard to talk when he was doing that to you. “Ugh, Daddy!”

“That’s a good girl,” he kissed you again.

He finally carried you off to his bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist. He’d taken you apart so easily. Like he’d done this to you so many times before. Instead he’d just been thinking about it so much he didn’t want to fuck it up.

He sat down with you still wrapped around him. His jeans were still on, but you could feel him through his jeans and fuck. He felt so huge against you as he moved you right over it.

His fingers reached between you two so he could rub your clit again. Chris wasn’t your usual type, but you couldn’t deny that he was fine as fuck. Or that he was dangerously charming.

When he’d finally taken off his jeans and underwear, he sat you back in his lap so you were straddling him. He was holding you tight against him so even when you tried to sink down onto him because fuck you wanted to so bad, he wouldn’t let you. Like he needed you to know who was in control.

“Ride my face,” he said, slapping your ass.

You giggled. “Really?”

“Yeah you taste fucking delicious.”

You looked down at him as you could see his eyes peeking out. From underneath you. He really was eating you up like you’d be his last meal.

He felt like he was in heaven with his head between your legs. Like you were sweeter than any candy he could ever eat. Better than jelly beans. “Oh my god,” you breathed out a moan.

You moved your hips trying to ride his tongue, but it was almost too much. His beard was burning your thighs only adding to how good it felt. You grabbed at his hair while he smacked your ass again, palming it in his large hand.

He felt like he could taste your orgasm. The way you leaked out into his mouth. He didn’t even care that you were making such a big mess on his face. “Daddy, yes!” You gasped. You put your hands on the headboard to brace yourself because as your stomach started to tighten you could tell this one was going to be much more powerful. “I’mgonnacum,” you rattled off.

He chuckled into you pushing his fingers into you again making it so you had to ride his hand, too. How the fuck was this man able to get you like this and you hadn’t even taken his dick yet. Fuck you needed to take it.

He didn’t even let up when it happened. It was like he wanted more of you. He was drinking you up. Wanting to have you at his mercy. Like this was the last chance he’d get to feel your pussy on his tongue and he needed to take advantage.

It took two more orgasms for him to finally let you up. You fell down onto the bed completely spent. He didn’t even care as he kissed you hungrily. Quickly pushed you onto your back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and didn’t even give you time to realize what was happening before he slammed into you.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you around his dick. And fuck did it feel perfect. You were so tight. So wet. So damn sexy with the way your mouth formed into an O because how was he moving his hips like that.

It should have been illegal for him to fuck you like this. For him to leave your pussy craving more from him. How the hell were you supposed to come back from this.

He fucked into your spot like he already knew where it was. Like the two of you had done this so many times before. All you could do was take it. All you wanted to do was take it and take it and never stop taking it.

You were everything he’d thought you’d be since he’d saw that first fucking music video. Your sparkly acrylic nails scratched his back. “Fuck me, Chris.”

He slapped your ass. “You call me Daddy,” he growled into your ear.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you buried your face into his neck. He should have not been able to fuck you this well. You bit your lip, as he put his forehead against yours.

The burn from the way he split you open was so good. This couldn’t have been the last time the two of you did this. Not when he was this deep inside of you.

The first time you came around him he pulled out of you so he could lay beside you. Then because he didn’t give a fuck about how it was too much or whatever you kept saying he made you sink down on his dick.

Your pussy creamed down his length. You kept telling yourself that you couldn’t take it even though you were riding his dick like such a good girl. The bed was shaking so hard you were scared you might break something.

This was about to be a long night.

—

Chris couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this fucked out. It was like when he thought he had enough you’d pounce on him and when you thought you’d had enough he’d do the same to you. Until finally the two of you passed out with his arms wrapped around you and you buried into his chest.

He kissed your forehead, nuzzling your face with his nose. He felt content for the first time in a long time with you there. Like you were meant to be there in his arms. You’d barely gone to bed at four in the morning so it was no wonder you were still asleep at ten a.m.

When he realized the time, he groaned because he was so late. He reached for his phone seeing the tons of missed called. “Baby?” He shook you gently.

“Mmm,” you hummed as you finally peeked up at him. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Ten thirty,” he answered.

“Fuck,” you groaned, but didn’t even attempt to move. “My managers gonna kill me.”

He grinned because you looked so cute half asleep. “Same.” He pecked your lips. “Good morning, though.”

“Good morning,” you replied saying fuck it in your head as you stayed where you were. You were too comfortable to move.

“We should do this again sometime,” he said, tracing patterns into your skin.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

“You busy tomorrow?”

“I have some stuff to do in the morning, but I’m free after nine.”

“Perfect. How about a late dinner?”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

He chuckled. “Of course.” His phone went off right when he was about to kiss you and he groaned because as much as he’d prefer spending time with you, he did have obligations to get to. “Hello?”

“Chris!” His managers voice boomed. “Where the hell have you been! Have you seen Twitter today?”

“No, I just woke up,” he said with a frown on his face. You looked up at him noticing the change in his tone.

“Well, you’re trending. They posted the interview online and fans are going insane.”

“What?” He said. “Hold on let me look.”

It wasn’t just him trending on Twitter. So were you. Together. He shook you so you could look before clicking on the thread.

Damn Chris was looking at her like she was a whole meal.

And at that moment Chris Jamal Evans was ready to risk it all

He over here just eye fucking her

There were a lot. Plus, all the memes people had posted. He hadn’t realized he made it that obvious. You started giggling not being able to stop yourself as he scrolled. “Wait is that her? Is she there?” The faint voice of his manager came through the phone.

“I gotta call you back,” he said before hanging up. “I am so sorry.”

You were still laughing as you grabbed your own phone so you could read through more. “It’s okay. Just glad I didn’t make it obvious that I was doing the same.”

“I knew it!” He laughed before tickling your side.

You tried to push his hand away and all that lead to was a wrestling match where he pinned you down. “Daddy!” You squealed which again music to his ears.

You struggled against him until you finally broke your hand away so you could reach forward to grab at his dick that seemed to awaken immediately under your touch. “That’s cheating!” He protested with a laugh.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“You better not start something you can’t finish.”

You smirked. “Oh, I can finish it.”

“You know, I can afford to take the day off,” he noted realizing he was not letting you out of this bed anytime soon.

“Me, too.”

He leaned forward capturing your lips with his. Not even caring about morning breath. Just needing to feel you. As he turned you over so he could fuck you from behind he realized that it was true. He was ready to risk it all for you.

And it was pretty funny to watch you laugh at all the memes afterwards.

#chris evans smut #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #daddy!chris evans

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zuffer-weird-girl · 3 years

Text

Red hair as roses, and turquoise eyes as orchids

"Dada look!" The bored and depressed blue eyes stood up from his lap to his 6 years old daughter, extending her tiny hands up high in the air.

"Be careful with what you're gonna do pretty doll." He manage to smirk a bit as she pouted, strands of red brushing against her forehead until a huge wave of flames of the colour blue danced around her hands until she jumped and a small prinkle of flames were throw in the air.

She laughed at the sign and clapped her hands in glee at her own little show as Dabi let out a chuckle at seeing the happines of his daughter... instead of him, Emika had the blessing of having a body that could tolerate the heat enough of his quirk that she inherited it from him. Your quirk itself being a huge help for the little girl to not have scars as her father's.

"Did you see Dada?! It was soooo huge and beautiful!!!" She ran towards him only to trip and thankfully landed on the brunette male's lap, giggling with a smile so bright that could've hury his eyes.

"Hmm. Almost like mine princess, im impressed." His hands carresed her chubby cheeks until he heard murmuring behind them.

Of course. Even with his disguise, that were people whose were going to mutter, say bad things... he lost count on how many times Emika had been bullied because her quirk was similiar with the most cruel and wanted villain....

And much to his dismay, Emika didn't take that... very well.

"WHAT ARE YOU WHISPERING ABOUT?! LEAVE US ALONE!" the little girl shouted and the adults only scoffed, picking up their kids and getting out of the park.

"You're going to scare off anyone with that attitude of yours princess." He muttered while carresing her red hair and picking her up as she scoffed.

"They cant say bad things about MY dada!" He smiled at the little girl and sighed.

"Yeah yeah, just lets get out of here before you burn things down."

"Thats something you would do!" She poked his scarred cheek. "Ne ne dada? We gonna visit mama right? I want to bring flowers to her this time!"

His eyes dropped at the ground as his feet carried them to the cemetery...

"We can arrange that."

"Mama was so pretty!!!" Emika squealed as Spinner and Toga showed her some photos as Dabi stared holes into their skulls.

Is not that he didn't wanted his daughter to forget or to not know about her mother... but it was painfull enough to have a father as a villain, now being a mother orphan was just more harder.

Emika couldn't go to school without being recognized as Dabi's daughter. So he brought himself the task to teach her things , being thankfull to his past self that he had studied enough.

"Yeah and she was strong as fuck too according to your dad there." Spinner grinned, showing a picture of you pinning down a hero on the middle of the street.

"Emika-chan, despite not meeting (Y/n) you look so much like her!" Toga beamed with a smile, fangs showing and the little girl giggling when Dabi just yanked her away from the two.

"Naaaaaa dada no bed time!" She squirmed as he carried her to now the comfortable room the league gotten ever since the incident with Shigaraki and Redestro.

"Dont complain or else Im going to take away your toy." He grumbled as the girl gasped and pouted at him much like you would do.

"You wouldn't!" She defies him with a cheeky smile although while settling down on the bed she shared with him.

"Try me." He smirked with a atched eyebrow making her laugh.

Some time passed and Dabi watched as the eyelids of Emika slowly dropped until she called him softly.

"This place we are now... we gonna stay or are the bad man breaking it and we have to move again?" His heart clenched.. she still had the memories when the league had captured that blonde kid and the heroes busted the bar...

With her own view, she saw the villains as the good and normal people despite Toga being a crazy assasin that loved drinking blood, Shigaraki a men that only wanted to destriy the world, Twice a bipolar man and the list goes on...

Emika saw the villains as good people, and the heroes as bad ones... after all, after she found out on her own that her mother died not because of childbirth, but because of a hero that accidentally killed her with a much too strong attack... and only because she wanted to protect the baby on her arms at that time.

So much blood dropped from his eyes... some even dropping on your lifeless body and on the crying baby he soon noticed that thankfully was alive.

He would never forget whem he craddled the baby on his arms and sobbed deyly as his child wailed at not having the warmth of her mother anymore.

Things were tough until they found the league of villains and had at peast a place to crash.

Emika was now soudly asleep as he sighed and brushed his hair.

"When the heroes come to us... I will make sure yoi stay outta of the mess Emika. But you will not like to know the truth about our origins..." he muttered as a scarred hand brushed her bangs and smirked when she nuzzled on his hand... reminding him of how you would nuzzle on him on cold nights...

"Time to sleep off huh? The more we sleep, the pess we have to face the reality." He muttered before laying down and bringing her close to his chest.

"Dada..." she whimpered as fat tears fell feom her turquoise eyes as she tremblingly holded the box of paper towels, helping him clean off the blood from his stapples as he took a final look on the mirror, his white hair finally at show for the first time in so many years.

"Hey," he crouched down and made his best to not wince "I'm fine. Daddy is used to this by now and-"

"bUT I'M NOT!" she yelled and punched his chest with her tiny fist as he frowned and holded her as she sobbed on his chest.

"...Is it true..?" He looked down at the tuff of red hair on his chest "That uncle Twice is not coming back..? That.. T-That grandpa did this to you..m that we are from the family of E-Endeavour?"

He frowned and wiped her tears away as she holded his wrist while sobbing at the loss of Twice, whose always played and made silly faces with her on spare times.

"Yeah... Im sorry for not telling you... but I thought that... Me and your mother actually decided that Emika (L/n) was better than puttingnon a fake and... well, not right name on yours."

"... which hero... killed... mama..?" His heart stopped... should he reaally tell her? She was only a baby of five years.. five fucking years... he was already damaged by society, but her was just a little flower growing...

"Princess.. I-"

"Who?!" She sobbed as his eyes dropped, a heavy sigh as he dinally sit down on the edge of the sofa as he put his hand on his face as the other helped her sit on his lap.

"... your grandpa."

Emika cried heraelf to sleep that night. Wailing that she hated the heroes, that she hated Endeavour, that she hated him for not telling her the truth for so long, that she hated having fo be a Todoroki.

Each word was a spike to his chest as he tried and eventually succeed on calming her down enough, from harsh sobs and eails to soft sniffles and the rest of the tears she had to sheed.

He hugged her just a bit tighter that night as one drop of blood fell from his eyes.

"I thought I could do it (Y/n)... I fucking promised you... but... fuck." He bited his bottom scarred lips to contain a whimper "Everything is just the worst now... why did you have to be so goddamn stubborn and risk your life dammit..."

"Is your fourth bowl of ice cream ya know?" Dabi muttered from his place on the miserable yet comfy apartment you two shared as you stared back at him with a spoonfull of your favorite ice cream on hand close to your mouth.

"I have the right. I'm pregnant. Leave me be." You made a show of putting the spoon on your mouth and moaning out loud as Dabi shooked his head in dismay before taking a place on your side ofbthe couxh before you two cringed at the sounds of the old mobile almost creaking.

"We need to got money to find a new couch." You muttered horrified, just apmost ending all of your money on baby supplies and clothes.

"Or I can just steal one." He smirked at the slight slap you gave to him.

"And have shitty heroes coming our way later? Nu uh mister... maybe just rob a bank though." You muttered before both of you chuckled as you laid your head on his shoulder as he subconsciously placed his hand on the sweel of your stomach and felt a kick already.

"She is going to be a daddy's girl. Im so sure of it." You giggled as he arched an eyebrow.

"How cam you say this already? We dont even know if it is a girl of a boy doll."

"I know is a girl. I just know it. And she has already a favorite parent." You carresed your belly just besides where Dabi's hand was layed on.

"You're exaggerating." He chuckled as he felt another kick "They are going to be a nasty oen though, they kick alot."

"She kicks a lot when your nearby or talking to her. Just like I said, a daddy's girl." You smiled sweetly at him and he never felt so happy...

He looked at your lips for a second as you narrowed your eyes playfully at him before your lips almost touched-

He woke up with a hand tapping on his cheek and soon saw his daughter looking down at him with a pout.

"Can we go walk?" She almost whimpered as he could only stare and slowly nod as he caught his disguise and a very own for her.

She clunged to the black bunny plushie as she walked with pinks connected to him as he stated down at her in worry until she gasped at a convenience store.

"Dada! Snickers!" She pointed as he smiled at seeing a bit of bright on her eyes once again.

"How about we get some, eh?" She nodded with a small smile and soon followed her dad inside.

While she waited for Dabi to get the snacks and pay for them, for once, she gasped when a purple haired boy at the same age as her bumped accidentaly to her making her plushie drop.

"Hey!" She called out with tears on her eyes, being emotionally damaged enough for those past days.

"I'm sorry." The boy said immediatly, kneeling and grabbing the plushie to hand it to her "Its yours?" He tilted his head as Emika grabbed immediatly.

"Of course it was! It was with me until you bunped on me!" Emika slowly dropped her tone of voice at seeing how the purple haired boy seemed genuily sorry as he aproached and bowed once again.

"Sorry, I just am here to grab some medice and a chocolate for my mom and dad. They're both sick and they dont know i went out so I needed to hurry." He smiled as Emika soon dropped slowly her guard down as she muttered.

"Is okay... is just that bunny is speacial to me."

"I can see why. Your mama gave it to you right." Her turquoise eyes widened as she frowned her eyebrows at the boy.

"Kinda of..?" She clinged to the toy "Why do you that?"

He closed his eyes with a tiny giggle.

"Well, she told me as soon as you started to tear up. She is always by your side aparently." Emika eyes darkned and she let go of one hand of the plushie to heat up her hand.

"Say that one more time. I dare you. My mama is not here." She almost cried until the purple boy touched her forehead with two fingers and soon she was not more in the grocery store, but in a blank space.

"HEY YOU!" she shouted "THIS IS NOT FUNNY LET OUT YOU FUCK-"

"Geez, daddy did not spare you of curse words then?" She froze and looked behind her and saw the sane woman Dabi showed photos of and was compared whenever she was laughing or making a trick on others.

She froze for a bit before silently tears started to fall and she hiccupped for a bit before dropping her bunny and running to you as you hugged her tightly.

"Mama! I cant believe-! Is you-! I-I-" she hicupped as you wiped her tears with your thumb and let some of your own fall.

"You're take so much of your dada im so happy... My little girl is just so beautiful..." you whispered as she sobbed while wiping her tears with her sleeve.

"D-Dada!" She gasped before smiling widely and grabbing your sleeve "Dada needs to see this! Mama he misses you a lot he need to see yo-"

"Im sorry princess..." you grabbed her cheek softly "I wanted to see your daddy just as much, but I cant...." her face fell a bit but soon nodded while playing with your fingers and hair.

"Mama? Why did you do it?" You hummed as she looked up hesitantly "Why did youbleave dad? Why... you took.. Endeavour attack..?" She asked sadly as you furrowed your eyebrows but soon closed your eyes and smiled.

"Emika... the day you were born was the day I was gone as well... but when I saw your grandpa recognizing me as a villain and blasted an attack close to where you were... I just had to. I had to protect the feuit of love that me and your father made..." you smiled sadly as she sniffed.

"But you arent with us..." she almost sobbed until you made her look up.

"Emika... Im so sorry for the loneliness you had to endure... the pain... that was the only dowside of the decision I made. My swest little girl..." you cuppex her cheek and wiped a tear "Thank you for letting me be your mother, and Touya for being your father..."

You touched your forehead with her as she noticed your body was slowly turning to tiny hints of lights and fireflies.

"Mama..?" She looked at you crying softly as you kissed her forehead.

"Emika, evertime you see a star in the dark sky it will be me watching over you and your dada... and please understand one thing," you got away from her as your hair floated majestically "Dying for you, was a noble sacrifice I did for love..."

She widened her eyes as she grabbed your hands as you giggled at her expression.

"Say to dada Im watching him too, and that loving him were the happier moments I spend... I love him and always will...after all, he is my canolli, dead or not, okay?"

The littpe girl gasped and looked at the place she was, the grocery store and the boy from earlier retracting his hand with a unsure littpe smile.

"It was your quirk... you... you made me talk with my mama." She says outstruck as the boy giggled but soon gasped at looking the time.

"I have to go! But I hope we meet again." He ran to the door with the bags before looking one more time behind to her "Call me Akira! See you soon Emika-chan!"

She stood there in complete shook before brushing her fingers on the tingling spot you had kissed on her forehead before smiling widely and giggling before knocking her daddy's leg as he grunted.

"Emika what the-"

"Mama is watching us!" She bounced up and down as he atood with a 'what the fuck' expression.

"What the hell Emika?" He grabbed the packs and carried her as he walked on the street.

"Mama said your name is Touya dada! Which I found strange at first but anyway! She kissed my forehead! Hugged me and said how much she loves me and you and is watching us! She is a star dada! A star!!"

His eyes widened. Emika didn't hear his speech to Endeavour. Emika didn't know his real name was Touya instead of Dabi as the league called him... so she was not imagining neither making things up.

"..so you saw mama?" She giggled and nodded while boucing on his arms. "... did she say something else?" He asked hopefully and she smiled widely as much as you would do.

"She said loving you was the most happier she got! And that your are her canolli forever!"

His steps faltered and almost that he dropped his daughter as his eyes widened... only you knew that god for saken nickname you gaved to him...

"Dada?" His daughter words and hands on his cheeks made him ho back to reality as he saw the blood on his little girl's fingers and worried expression "Are you crying..? Dada?"

"Heh..." he wiped with one thumb the blood before smilling at her and continuing walking "Nah. Must be one of my staples..." he stared up as his daughter rested her face on his neck. "Mama is a star then?"

"Ya.." she yawned "Watching us... I bet she is that one." The little girl pointed at the shiniest star on the sku as Dabi smiled...

"Yeah... I also bet on that one."

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha villains x reader #bnha villains #bnha fanfictions #bnha fanfic #zuffer writings #dabi #touya todoroki #bnha oc

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

The Only Exception

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Nishinoya was genuinely happy with his life. He’d gotten used to being by himself and had accepted the fact that that was how it was supposed to be. Until you came along and threw everything he thought made sense out the window.

A/N: I really like this fic. It’s one of my favorites Nishinoya ones so far just because it’s his pov and timeskip and the amount of love feels makes me happy. i got a lot of serotonin while writing it :D

Masterlist

Nishinoya had never been someone’s first choice.

He knew that sounded dramatic, but it was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, Tanaka could chug three-fourths gallon of milk before vomiting, and Nishinoya was never anyone’s preferred option--which never bothered him so keep the pity to yourself.

He learned to accept this when he never got scouted for the All-Japan Youth Camp and after the only person Nishinoya ever even kind of loved ended up loving his best friend. It taught him to keep his expectations low and to focus on things he could control, which was what led him to solo-traveling Japan and then the world. He realized things might be better on his own, and with the constant itch that he was missing out on something bigger traveling alone just made sense.

But then you came and ruined everything.

Hold on. That came off way more aggressive than Nishinoya wanted. He meant there was a perfect vision for how his life would go-pyramids in Egypt, Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, deep sea fishing in Italy-until he toppled over you in the streets of Italy. He’d been sprinting toward the docks when you stepped out of a marketplace and he collided into you, knocking you flat on your butt and sending your groceries all over the sidewalk. Nishinoya fumbled through his best apology in broken Italian while shoving produce into your paper bag, but froze in surprise when you snorted rather than began an enraged lecture.

He swore his heart actually stopped when your eyes met. You were clearly amused by his flustered behavior and when his heart started back up it was abnormally fast. Not once had he understood what Tanaka meant when he explained the first time he’d seen Kiyoko, but the first time Nishinoya saw you everything Tanaka said clicked. If Nishinoya had been fifteen he probably would’ve proposed to you on the spot.

But he wasn’t, so instead he shakily handed you your groceries with furiously red cheeks.

“Come ti chiami?” You asked with a raised brow.

Nishinoya blinked several times. He racked his brain for what he’d been taught on his last fishing trip, but it was mostly curses and inappropriate sayings he should probably avoid using. He was pretty sure Duolingo mentioned ‘chiamo’ as name though.

“Nishinoya?” He answered like a question and felt relief wash over him when you nodded.

“What are you doing this weekend, Nishinoya?”

He stared blankly before pointing at you with wide eyes, “I understood that.”

“Well you obviously don’t know Italian,” you rolled your eyes and he pouted at the incredibly accurate jab, “so, are you free?”

He looked around the empty street before pointing to himself. “Are you still talking to me?”

“Is there another Nishinoya around here?”

“I mean, there could be.” He looked up thoughtfully. “The odds would be crazy though.”

You laughed lightly which made a warmth creep up his neck. “I’m talking to you. I’m trying to ask you on a date.”

He looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Why?”

“You’re attractive and you seem nice,” you cocked your head to the side. “Is that not a good reason?”

He stared at the ground intensely. “I guess… It is?” Then his original reason for being there struck him and his eyes widened. “Oh shit. I have to go,” he started leaving before quickly coming back. “Wait, I, uh, yes. Yes to the date thing.”

You chuckled, pulling a cellphone from your pocket to let him hurriedly create his contact before continuing his sprint to the docks-with a teasing recommendation not to knock anyone else over. That literal run in was the moment his entire world view became out of whack.

It wasn’t that he thought he was immune to liking someone-high school Nishinoya fell for any breathing human that gave him attention-he just lost the ability to imagine someone liking him. Maybe he’d been by himself too long or maybe that was just another fact he’d grown used to. He didn’t know anymore.

He did know that when he showed up at the restaurant thirty minutes early-there’s only so much pacing someone can do before they go insane-he hadn’t expected to see you. Just sitting on a bench beside the main entrance, looking too perfect while bouncing a knee and nibbling on your thumb nail as if you were nervous to be there.

Except it was only him, so that wouldn’t make sense.

“Hey,” you said when you spotted him standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

“You’re here,” he raised a brow. You took it as the time, but he meant it in a general sense. He truly hadn’t expected you to show up.

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, twisting the material of your clothes. “Yeah, I was kind of nervous.”

He mulled that over for admittedly too long, but it just seemed like such a stupid thing to say. It wasn’t that you looked stupid, but that’s what made it so confusing.

“You’re also early.” You pointed out when the silence became awkwardly long.

“I was nervous.” He said like it should have been obvious.

“At least we’re starting on equal ground,” you said with a shaky breath.

Equal ground? He wasn’t sure his brain was cut out for this type of critical thinking. He’d even spent the past few days planning for every scenario-even you sneaking out the bathroom like in the movies-but he never pictured you being nervous.

“Uh, yeah,” he tapped against his leg while glancing through the window at the half-filled dining area, “we can probably go inside.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you gave him a quick finger gun before whipping around with shoulders to your ears.

Nishinoya blinked several times before looking back down the street. A part of him thought about running, saving you both from the shitty date to come filled with awful conversation starters he’d pulled from an online article for high schoolers. However his fate was sealed the moment you sent a gentle smile over your shoulder and his feet began following you through the door without his permission.

Ever since that day he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since you giggled behind your hand instead of wincing at the terrible jokes he regretted the moment they left his mouth; ever since you weren’t burdened by the need to translate for him the whole night; and ever since you were amused rather than annoyed at his nervous rambling and awkward icebreakers.

It was just too good to be true.

Like the first time you came over and teased him for the cheesy dialogue in his favorite action movies. How his chest ached when your head rested in his lap and you gazed at him with overwhelming amounts of affection. He’d never dreamed he’d have this-couldn’t have if he tried. Sharing his favorite things with someone while they traced designs against his palm and occasionally sealing them with featherlight kisses. The fire it sent up his arm was too much and not enough and he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this.

It was a little scary how much Nishinoya didn’t want to lose it.

And that thought started keeping him up at night. Nishinoya was never really scared of anything-it was kind of what he was known for everywhere he traveled. If anyone needed something done they asked the foreigner with a death wish. So, the idea that you had that effect on him was, again, terrifying.

But what was Nishinoya supposed to do when you press your forehead against his in the middle of the night? Running your fingers through his hair and paying special attention to the blonde strands he’d always been secretly self-conscious of, whispering low how they were one of your favorite things in the world. How could he regret anything when you rubbed your nose lazily against his and kissed him softer than he ever deserved? He didn’t give a shit how scared he was if it meant he could stay like this, with you, for as long as you’d let him.

Because his heart raced a million miles a second when you mindlessly held his hand under a table or leaned against him just to be close. Because for some reason he was the first person you called when you were excited or when you needed comfort. Because when he rambled too long about spearfishing or an old friend’s volleyball game your eyes lit with genuine interest rather than annoyance. And because he was in love with you.

Which he both wasn’t prepared for and had known was inevitable. Falling for you had been like getting hit by a semi-truck he’d seen coming for miles.

It probably happened sooner than socially acceptable, but that didn’t surprise him given his all or nothing nature. This outcome was decided the moment Nishinoya knew he’d be fine with you breaking his heart a hundred times if it meant he could keep waking up next to you cascaded by the rising sun because he was still too lazy to invest in curtains. Just you cuddling closer to him for warmth in your sleep would make every ounce of pain worth it.

Once Nishinoya’d acknowledged his feelings it was nearly impossible keeping them down. With every breathtaking smile, or brush of your hand against his, or bubble of laughter that rang throughout his apartment it nearly spilled from his lips like a breath. It took all self-restraint he had to hold it back. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want you to know because you deserved this piece of him-every piece of him.

He just wasn’t sure you’d want it.

His resolve lasted nearly a month-a month longer than he thought he was capable-before the feeling was too intense for him to keep down. And it wasn’t anything drastic that made him break. No, it was something so absurdly casual that he was almost pissed at himself when the words flowed from his mouth.

It had been a completely average morning, nothing crazy, the weather was actually gross with rain pounding against the windows and the sky a depressing shade of grey. But then you stepped out of his bathroom while rubbing the sleep from your eyes, giving him a lopsided smile before slurring a soft request for breakfast. It was like time froze and he was in a stupid romcom except you were there so it was actually an oscar nominated masterpiece.

Your head lolled to the side, half-lidded eyes filling with concern at his silence. “We can cook together. I didn’t mean it like-”

“I love you.”

That seemed to wake you up. Your body straightened while your mouth hung open in stunned silence. Nishinoya had expected this kind of reaction, so he clenched his fists tight in preparation for the worst.

“Are you sure?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “That’s a pretty serious word, Noya.”

He knew that. Nishinoya had spent too many nights losing sleep over that.

“You scare me,” he confessed, deciding if he was going to dig his grave he might as well make it deep. “I’ve never really been the one someone chooses. More like deal or settle with.” He grimaced when his heart squeezed painfully in his chest, “but I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone and that scares me. You make me feel wanted and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Because I do want you.” You whispered and his stare locked on yours so quickly, meeting your loving gaze while his heart started racing. “And everyone you know must be really stupid because I feel lucky I got to choose you. I get to love you.”

He stared at you wide-eyed while his chest swelled with so much emotion he was surprised he hadn’t passed out.

“Sorry, that sounded really lame.” You placed a hand against your forehead and Nishinoya shook his head vigorously.

“I think that was the greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You stepped closer and cradled his face, gently brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. If he wasn’t so manly and awesome he may have teared up, but he definitely didn’t. Which was why you obviously weren’t wiping any water off his cheeks before pulling his lips against yours.

Nishinoya set a languid pace that turned desperate when you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled you as close as he could, which was never enough, snaking an arm around your middle and sliding one to cradle the back of your head.

When it got heated enough that he decided he’d very much like to move it to his bedroom Nishinoya’s stomach growled and you snorted against his lips. Nishinoya pouted, whining when you pulled away with a playful smirk.

“Later,” you said, pinching his cheeks and waving his head around. “Food first. We’re both hungry.”

He did love food.

He disrespectfully watched you leave him in favor of searching the fridge for food that could be thrown together for breakfast. A dopey smile covered his lips because he loved you. He was lucky enough to get to love you. And for some ridiculous fucking reason you were dumb enough to love him.

He would do whatever he could to keep it this way. For now, that was helping you cook breakfast. Tomorrow, who knows? But whatever it was you would be there, so it would be pretty god damn amazing.

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yu #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya x you #nishinoya yū #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu!!

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mooshys · 3 years

Text

the silver lining of bad first dates

summary: a date gone wrong. a walk in the rain. a simple conversation in a ramen shop. mundane slice of life and mutual pining with kuroo.

word count: 2.1k

author’s note and warnings: curse words galore. set in time-skip. pure word vomit. kuroo’s one of those characters that I’m so scared to even consider writing for because I feel as though I’ll never truly be able to “get” his character. whatever though, I tried.

This date fucking sucked.

Point-blank. No sugarcoating because the dude sitting on the opposite side of the dinner table was more interested in the JASDAQ than your name. Seriously, he couldn’t even be bothered to listen to you talk about your alma mater before he swooped in and started blanketing his insecurities with his recent Bitcoin investment.

Talk about lame.

Wine and hors d’oeuvres be damned, you were making an escape before he started mansplaining the economy. Even wagyu couldn’t save this candlelit disaster.

Making no attempt to be discreet, you whipped your phone out of your bag and typed up a quick text:

Mind picking me up? Shitty date.

Ping!

Seriously? Again? What’d this guy do this time?

Ping!

Send the address

Ping!

I swear, this is the last time I’m picking you up

You smiled at the screen, thumbs moving fast.

That’s what you said last week

A bubble with three dots appeared, disappeared, and reappeared.

Ping!

Five minutes.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Like every cliché bad first date, the weather made sure to mimic the mood. The rainfall was nothing less than dreadful, a downpour that left the streets empty as most people kept indoors to avoid getting soaked.

“You’re so lucky that I didn’t have to work overtime tonight,” Kuroo began, standing close to you in an attempt to shield you both from the shower with his janky umbrella. “Otherwise, you’d be walking in the rain or sitting there having your dinner ruined from hearing that guy talk about his gains in the market.”

You laughed at the truth of his words. There really was no one else who knew you like Kuroo.

“And you know I would’ve walked in the rain out of the two options. I can’t believe someone so dick-ish exists that I’d bail out on a free meal,” you said, raising your voice over the heavy pelting.

Without any warning, a trio of college kids rushed past you two, not paying attention to the other pedestrians walking the sidewalks as their only priority in mind was making it back home before catching a cold. They had their backpacks held up to cover their heads, but it wasn’t much help as their clothes were completely soaked.

“See that?” Kuroo jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “You would’ve been running like those kids all the way back to your apartment if I didn’t show up.”

You lightly elbowed him and rolled your eyes. Rain fell on your shoulder from the sudden movement, but Kuroo repositioned the umbrella to prevent you from getting wet. “As if,” you murmured, hugging your body in an attempt to keep warm. “Thanks for picking me up. Again.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re oh so welcome,” he waved off your words and then cackled when you narrowed your eyes at him. Sometimes he really knew how to push your buttons. “Anyway, are you trying to date a bunch of crappy guys on purpose? Because I feel like that’s what you’re trying to do.”

“It’s not like I ask to go through a bunch of crappy first dates!” you said, letting out a huff of hot air. The past month had been riddled with unsuccessful first dates. Statistically speaking, you were an outlier; the average person probably went through a handful of bad first dates in a single year: you went through that number in a mere month. Multiple standard deviations past, you were way out of the norm. “Maybe I’m just a magnet for awful guys who only have a thing for themselves.”

Kuroo scoffed. “Or maybe you just like to make my life a little bit harder.”

You smiled at his words.

“Maybe.”

Besides the realization that you were like a honeytrap to flies when it came to bad first dates, another constant came from the start of it all: Kuroo. You weren’t expecting much from the first SOS call; really, just someone to walk you back home when it was late and the taxi fares were jacked up. But you would never forget the first time he waited for you outside that overhyped bar with a bag of take-out, his tie loosened and hair messy because he had just left the office and rushed to the nearest place that sold yakisoba for a decent price.

Maybe you did make his life a little bit harder. It was selfish, but whenever you had a bad date, you actually started to anticipate your escape because that meant Kuroo would be there for you.

He was your silver lining for the past month.

Red brick walls came into view once you two rounded the corner into a more secluded alley, revealing a familiar site that made you hungry. A neon sign which turned brighter due to the haze of the rain drew you in like a moth to a flame. It flickered, but still kept its light. Another constant.

Underneath the awning of the restaurant, Kuroo retracted his umbrella and shook the excess water off of it. He shoved it in the small bin filled with umbrellas belonging to the other patrons and dragged the soles of his shoes on the mat before pulling the door open.

“Let’s just get some ramen,” he said, ushering you inside. You took the first steps and situated yourself at a lone table. He followed and a waitress quickly took your orders, soon rushing back to the kitchen to help with the line of tickets pinned to the wall.

“Ramen on a rainy day,” you said, giving a low whistle. “You know your stuff.”

“Duh, ramen tastes best when you’re freezing,” he replied, pulling on his necktie to loosen it. He grabbed two pairs of chopsticks along with a pair of spoons, placing a set in front of you. “And it tastes pretty good after bad dates too.”

“You’re talking to the queen of bad first dates.”

“Oh, I’ve had my fair share too, Your Highness.”

As if on cue, two bowls of ramen were brought over from the kitchen along with an extra soft boiled egg as soon as he finished his sentence. The soup had small ringlets floating at the top from the fat of the broth along with bright green scallions acting as a garnish to offer a vibrant and appetizing color. Wasting no time, you both gave thanks and started to dig in.

“You know,” he started, breaking his chopsticks apart and dipping them into the broth. He pulled up a nice amount of noodles, the steam rising up higher than before. “I really think you should quit dating guys who suck.”

Following Kuroo, you did the same and blew at your noodles. “You say it like it’s easy.”

“It is. It’s so easy.” He ate a mouthful and swallowed before speaking again. “You have your top tier guys, your average guys, and then your totally shitty guys. I mean absolute trash—these are the guys you’re dating. Avoid them and all your problems will be solved.”

“Ugh, I feel like we go through this conversation after every single mishap of a date.”

Translation: Kuroo, you sound like my nagging mother.

“Because you never learn.”

Translation: I will nag at you all I want.

You sighed. “Love’s a lot more complicated than you make it.”

“Whatever. Just find a guy who isn’t an asswipe, and then we can talk.”

As you two continued to eat, the kitchen staff remained lively. The sounds of ceramic bowls clattering together along with the static hum of an old radio buzzing some city pop tune your mom would have listened to in her youth acted as background noise while chatting.

“So... what kind of guy do you think you are?” you asked, curious to hear his answer. Kuroo was in the middle of slurping his noodles and held a hand up to signal you to give him a second.

“Me?” He pointed at himself and you nodded. Who else would you be asking? “I’m your average guy.”

You frowned. “No way.”

“What, you think I’m an absolute trash kind of guy? Harsh.”

“No, I think you’re definitely top tier. Average guys don’t go out of their way to do stuff like this.”

Kuroo raised a brow at you and set his chopsticks down. His bowl was half finished, but he was more interested in what you had to say. “Stuff like what?”

“You know,” you motioned the space between you two, “doing this awful-first-date-rescue-at-the-drop-of-a-hat kind of stuff. No questions asked. Average guys don’t do that. Average guys just pay for your meal and maybe give you their jacket when it’s kind of cold. And sometimes they call you some gross pet name like...” You shivered at the thought. “Kitten or something.”

He looked slightly taken aback. “You don’t like being called kitten?”

“No, something about it sounds gross.”

“That’s just because you haven’t found the right guy to say it to you when—“

Not wanting to hear the rest of what he had to say, you quickly crumpled up a napkin into a ball and tossed it at him. He threw his head back, putting on an act as if you actually did any damage to him.

“Stop. Please. Enough. Don’t even finish what you’re going to say.” You went back to devouring your bowl, the noodles more soft than before. Still tasted great as you shoveled in mouthfuls. “I don’t wanf tew heur et!”

Sporting a disgusted look, Kuroo grabbed a few napkins from the dispenser and slid them to your side of the table. “Jeez, you eat like that whenever you’re on a date? Maybe I saved that guy from you.”

“Well, you’re the one stuck with all of this now,” you motioned a hand to your entirety and wiggled an eyebrow. “Consider yourself lucky.”

He held his chin in the palm of his hand and stared at you from across the table, eyes still holding a glint of amusement under the low lighting of the restaurant. His bowl was nearly finished, yet he focused his attention on you, allowing a small smile to grace his lips as he pondered your words.

You eyed him, his gaze feeling a bit different from before. “What are you doing?”

“Considering,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“...It shouldn’t take you that long to,” you mumbled and ate another mouthful of noodles. He kept at it and soon started to crack up. When you narrowed your eyes at him, he shook his head and pushed another pile of napkins your way.

“There’s a scallion at the corner of your lips,” he tapped a hand on his bottom lip and cackled when you rushed to grab a napkin and wipe it away. Heat rose to your face and you sucked on your teeth.

“You know what? Forget about me calling you a top tier guy. It never happened.”

He placed a hand over his heart, wounded by your words. “It was kitten, wasn’t it?”

Unable to contain yourself, you laughed into your hand, shoulders shaking. You had to set your chopsticks down as you fanned your face, trying to get rid of the tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes. “If I ever heard that from another guy, I would walk out. The second the word came out of his mouth, I would pack up my things, leave, and never look back.”

“But you’re not right now.”

“I’m not.”

“Because I’m a top tier guy. Admit it.”

Because it’s you.

You shook your head and waved the white flag. “Right, that’s exactly it.”

Kuroo crossed his arms in front of his chest, satisfied with your answer. Like he won something from this conversation. He liked the way your lips tugged into a smile, not too tight, but enough to showcase the apples of your cheeks; he liked these nights when he could unwind after a long day of work and laugh about stupid pet names; he loved how easy it all was.

Consideration done and over with, he went back to finish his bowl, the steam from the broth no longer visible to the naked eye.

“Eat up or it’ll get cold,” he said and sipped on the broth. It was still warm, much to his surprise. “I’ll walk you back home when we’re done.”

You took small bites, prolonging the meal in any way possible: listening to him talk about his lazy cubicle partner, ordering another side of gyoza, folding a napkin to tell him his fortune through grade school methods. Both your bowls were empty, pushed to the side with a sliver of broth left as the focus was neither the food nor the JASDAQ jerk from hours before, but rather mundane conversation that went in circles until the shop emptied out.

A hundred dates could go wrong only for Kuroo to show up and make things right.

Maybe it was time for him to become more than a silver lining.

#I had this in my drafts for 4 months and really could not bring myself to post it #like I absolutely despised it and would reread and edit it over and over again #and I kept this only because of the dialogue line with the top tier guys #Yeah Idk dude it's fine now but begone out of my drafts #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #Ok I also feel like a reason why I *didn't* post this is cuz it's like... rlly different from what I usually post???#like this was so out of my comfort zone and I honestly feel a bit embarrassed sometimes when I write about ~love~ bc it's like. Ew Gross LOL #constant fear of it being too cheesy and unrealistic lmao

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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2) that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh*

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

#thgagain #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg meta #my sketches and drawings #everlark

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yesokaythatsfine69 · 3 years

Text

In Need of A Stable Relationship (Jean Kirstein x reader)

Description: y/n's having a shitty week- mainly because she's tired of loving Jean because he doesn't feel the same way.

Character(s): y/n, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Eren, Mikasa, Levi

POV: 3rd person

Warning(s): cursing, little bit of angst, fluff

A/n: JEAN IS SO HOT I LOVE HIM SO MUCH he's such an absolute cutie and probably the second most attractive character in the series. I'll let you guess who's number one.

Word Count:

Song: listen to Agni kai- epic version by Samuel Kim. It's just cool.

*none of the gifs used are mine, full credit goes to the maker.

Y/n bit into her bread harshly, swallowing the lump thickly. "y/n? Are you okay?" Taking another harsh bite, y/n nodded at Armin. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat like that." Eren laughed, but his eyes remained wearily trained on her. "I'm just hungry." She grumbled, taking a third bite.

"Hey, but not even Sasha eats like that." Connie pointed to the girl who sat next to him, who was stuffing bread into her mouth like it was candy. When she noticed everyone's eyes on her, she looked side to side. Quickly swallowing, she smiled sheepishly.

Y/n rolled her eyes, quickly losing interest in the conversation. "Didn't captain Levi say that if we didn't have this place spotless by the time he got back we'd be eating our own shit?" Y/n got up from the table, and her chair squeaked against the wood floor.

"You're already done, y/n?" Mikasa approached the table, a tray in her hands. Y/n only took the young woman in dejectedly, giving her a small shrug. "Yeah, you can have my seat." Y/n grabbed her empty tray and left the group, leaving them to watch her silhouette retreat out of the lunch room.

A few seconds later Jean arrived, coming in the same way Y/n had exited. He was sweating, obviously having just got done training. He grabbed a tray and made his way to the table, sitting down beside Connie.

"What's up with y/n? She barely spoke to me just now." The table was silent. "I think she ate too much." Sasha said, as she put a hand on her stomach, her own face scrunched up in pain. Jean raised an eyebrow at his friend, his gaze moving away from Sasha to Armin. "She's been off with all of us recently. Maybe the scouts are getting to her." Armin spoke, shaking his head slightly.

Eren folded his arms across his chest, a sign that something was obviously bothering him. Jean watched the action sharply, his eyes narrowing the slightest. "Yeah, maybe." The rest of the time it was mostly quiet, a few different topics arose. Noticibly, Jean remained silent, barely eating.

His mind focused on her, analyzing everything she said, did. He could barely eat he was so engrossed in worry for his friend.

He missed y/n.

--------------------------------------------------

Y/n sighed. The stables were always dirty, but when you're in a bad mood- they seem dirtier. She grabbed her broom, fixing to sweep when a door opened. She turned, surprised at first- but then her shoulders relaxed when she saw who entered.

"Did you need something, Jean?" Jean's eyes widened. He had such pretty eyes, a lovely warm brown. In the soft glow of the stable lights they were illuminated and they sparkled. He was beautiful, and even her misplaced anger couldn't diminish that. Y/n felt a sinking feeling as she realized just how captivated she was. This was going to be harder than she thought.

Jean, swallowed and shut the door behind him. "I came to check on you. You seem off." Y/n just shrugged and turned away from him, continuing to sweep. "It doesn't really matter."

In less than four steps, he caught up with her, grabbing onto her arm. "Hey, what's wrong with you? You're obviously mad- instead of just sulking maybe you should-" y/n spun around to face him.

"Shut up Jean! Just shut up!" She stabbed a finger at him. "Maybe I should just blow up like you do, without thinking or caring about the consequences of my actions. I'm sure that would just solve all my problems!" She huffed at him.

Jean straightened. "So this is about me?" Y/n's eyes widened. "No!" His eyes widened. "I never said I was perfect, y/n but..." He closed his eyes. "You...you're acting like a child!" She stared at him.

Before she could even acknowledge what she was doing her arm flew forward and she punched him square in the face. He grabbed his jaw, his doe eyes wide.

Y/n's own eyes widened and she clutched her hand. Pain erupted from her knuckles, but she ignored it, watching in fear as Jean clutched his face, staring at her in shock. "Oh God, Jean I'm so sorry...I- I..." He only winced, removing his hand. "Your right hook has gotten better."

Y/n stared at him. "But it still doesn't compare to mine!" Jean swung barely missing her as she ducked, side stepping him. The two fought, hand to hand combat style. Again Jean tried to swing but y/n was still to fast, ducking and landing a hit to his chest. He grunted but quickly regained his balance.

Jean swung again, but this time y/n caught his first, bring his face inches from her own. Then without warning he sideswiped her feet, bringing them both tumbling down.

Jean landed on his elbows above her, both out of breath. Finally, Jean caught his, looking down at y/n with sincere worry.

"What's wrong, y/n?" He asked again, his gaze gentle. She sniffed and looked away.

Silence.

"please, tell me. I want to help you." He spoke barely above a whisper, afraid he'd scare her off.

Finally, she spoke. She gave up.

"I-I love you."

Silence.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"And you...you don't love me."

She let out a sob then, more tears streaking down her face. Her hand wrapped around her mouth, a feeble attempt to subdue her cries.

She flinched when his hand reached over to her, gently cupping her cheek. He guided her to be directly in front of him.

But his face surprised her, he looked pissed. Jean was gritting his teeth in frustration, "How could you say that? Damnit! You can't just- You could've just asked."

"What?"

"Of course I love you! You're y/n y/l/n. You make life bearable, you make my day, my night. After Marco died- you were there for me. You've always been. I'd... I'd have to be an idiot to not...to not love you, y/n." Unshed tears shined in his eyes. "Of course, I love you."

Y/n frowned. "But Mikasa, I thought you-" "That was a year ago, y/n." they stared at each other, the truth finally sinking in.

Then, she smiled. Jean arched a brow as y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, a blush erupting on her cheeks.

Then suddenly she spun the two of them around, switching their positions. "Then why the hell didn't you say anything! You could've not wasted my time- the precious time I have." Again, Jean gritted his teeth. "Well, I thought you liked Yaegar! Considering the fact that you follow him around like a lost puppy!"

Y/n stared at Jean, who glared from under her. Then she bursted out laughing, a different type of tear streaming from her eyes. "You thought I liked Eren and I thought you liked Mikasa?" She laughed, slapping her thigh.

"We're both a pair of idiots!" Jean's scrowl slowly dropped, a smile slipping onto his face until he too began laughing hysterically with y/n.

Finally, She wiped her face, about to get up off of Jean but he grabbed her hand. His thumb gently ran through the knuckles, and he smiled.

"What's the rush, y/n? I like this view." Y/n flicked him, and got up, giving him a hand. He hopped up, but kept their hands intertwined.

Jean pulled their connected hands to his heart, and thus pulled her closer. Y/n closed the space between them, and Jean wrapped his free hand around her waist, settling his palm in the small of back.

The kiss was sweet, Jean's lips were soft and he dipped his head in deeper, catching her breathe. She snagged his bottom lip in her teeth, gently tugging. He tasted sweet, and it made her giggle, the thought of her hothead being anything but spicy- it was poetic.

"y/n..." He breathed, removing his lips from hers and peppering her face with sweet kisses, moving down to her neck. Her breathe caught at how soft he was.

"Oi, I didn't realize that the stables were suddenly designated for snogging." Y/n and Jean's eyes shot open, them freezing their minstrations. Captain Levi stood before them, his arms crossed.

In a flash they separated, putting a safe social distance between the two of them. Simultaneously giving him a salute, they spoke "Captain Levi!"

"Tch, save it you shits. You're both on horse shit duty. Separately." His eyes flickered dangerously between the two of them. "For how long?" Jean asked, his face pale. Jean hated getting in trouble, though it often found him because of his hotheaded nature.

"Until you start hating it, horse boy." Levi's eyes dangerously glittered at him. "Now, I expect you two dumbasses to have this place spotless by the morning." He leaned against the wall and Jean and y/n shared a look.

Sighing she picked up her broom and Jean grabbed the mop. Under the watchful eye of their captain they cleaned, but even under the burden of being in trouble the two could barely wipe away their smiles of delight.

"Will you two shitheads stop smiling, it sickens me."

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A/n: hey guys this one isn't my favorite prolly because I psyched myself out with doing Jean. Anyways feel free to give critism and feedback. Thanks for reading + happy new year

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#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein icons #jean x you #jean kirstein x you #aot imagines #aotc #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #x reader #imagine

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shepard-ram · 3 years

Text

Hello I'm light anon and i bring you the first chapter of an au i started awhile ago with the help of Ender anon (hi love you/p) , the supernatural au named Abnormalities and its very long

Abnormalities

Chapter One - Phasmophobia 2.5k words

:readmore:

“Prove it then.”

Of course, Sap and Dream’s arguments always lead to some sort of challenge. Ever since you met them in middle school, it’s been like that. Sap would say something, Dream would fire back because Sap was clearly wrong in his eyes, and it would spiral from there. Today’s topic of debate: The existence of the paranormal. Specifically, ghosts.

What sparked it? A cheesy horror film you picked out for the monthly movie night. Your stereotypical ghost film with lazy jump scares with bad effects and acting.you only bought it so you four could laugh at it. You Guys laud sprawled on the couch while Sap took up the floor. All was well, Until Sap proclaimed that real ghosts wouldn’t be that shitty. Dream, heavily disagreed that ghosts even existed. George didn’t take a side but you backed Sap up. The world is to weird not to have ghosts in it.

”Oh absolutely.” Sap nodded, agreeing with your assessment.

Dream rolled his eyes “Sure, sure, just how are you going to prove me wrong? There isn’t a ‘haunted building’ anywhere in town.”

At that moment George decided to speak up “What about the old willbeck farm?, the one a couple miles out of town. I always heard it was haunted by a kid or something.”

“That stupid place? Those were just stories are parents told us to keep us from trespassing.”

You shrugged. “It’s a start.”

Next thing you know, you and sap blew your paychecks on ghost hunting equipment. You ordered the basics, an EMF meter, a good camera, a thermometer, you even bought a ‘Spirit box’ and some smudge sticks, all too spite Dream who complained that you were being scammed.

You both ended up begging George to use his car to load up your equipment as he was the only one to have a large enough car for your equipment. He relented after a day of relentless begging.

The Willbeck farm was a 40 minute drive from your home, which left a lot of room for discussion.

“You three are idiots.”

You leaned forward to poke your head over the passenger seat. “You didn’t have to come, you know. You could have stayed back and do boring things like dressing up patches or something.”

He turned his head with narrowed eyes. “And make sure you guys didn’t fake your ‘proof?’ Not a chance.”

You laugh. “You’ll be the first one we feed to the ghosts.”

You bickered back and forth until George announced that they had finally made it. Not even seconds after he pulled into the clearing in front of the property, you and Sap practically kept out of the car and rushed to the trunk to get your gear. After distributing equipment amounts your group you took your first look at the house

The Farmhouse was much larger than you remembered reading about. It was a huge two story red building with a faded white trim. The word around it looked like it had been rotting for years and it definitely smelt like rot. AMany of the windows were broken in, and the glass was a gross brown color. The roof had some holes in it and the gutters had been ripped from the roof and laid scattered around the outside. A large barn was off to the side and had the same kind of wear to it. The entire property was surrounded by a torn up wire fencing, which had a lot of crows perched, eyeing you intensely. The Erie feeling the house gave off was intensified by the soft sound of the wind and the loud crow caws.

If houses had a criteria to be haunted, this one checked off all the boxes

Sap let out a low whistle before lightly nudging your arm “Dude, this place makes your home look tiny!”

You scoffed at that. Sure your rented home was small, but was cheap enough to pay for while you worked your way through community college. A one bedroom, one bath, a combined kitchen/living space, all on top of a double garage was all you needed.

It was a slow walk to the porch, all of you hesitant to actually set foot in the run down building. The steps creaked under you, and the wooden boards sunk slightly. You were at the head of the group, so you were the first one inside, taking a couple steps in the large foyer. It was full of outdated furniture, something you’d see out of the early 90’s. A large staircase sat to the left, hugging the wall as it pushed into the upstairs. There was a door to your right, leading into what you believe was the kitchen.

You held the camera up and you got a good shot of the room, if there were no ghosts you’d at least have some cool photos.

The four of you spread out into the room observing every corner of it. Sapnap was the one armed with the EMF reader. He waved the hand held device trying to get something, anything to read. He did manage to get one, honing onto a stuffed cow that was nestled into the couch.

It was dusty, like everything else in the room. Otherwise it was in semi good condition. It was... cute. Too cute to just be sitting in this old farmhouse for the rest of time. Dream had other opinions.

“That means nothing. It’s just a cow.”

To be fair, it was the first time either of you had used this kind of equipment. You decided to put it in your bag, hoping to study it later. It could be a fluke, but you guys couldn’t bow down now! The hunt has only just begun.

Every room on the first floor was subject to an EMF and Temperature checks. Dream and George fucked around while you and Sap scanned for anything that could be more than a fluke, the only thing that could be found was in the kitchen. A small carved statue of a crow.

It gave off the same readings as the cow plush, so perhaps it wasn’t a fluke. You found it sitting on the open windowsill, it was so life-like you almost mistake it for a living crow. Something was telling you that it was probably the oldest thing in the house. You gently placed it in your bag with the cow, another piece to your growing collection.

You took a moment to glance out the window. There were way too many crows sitting on the wire fence to be normal. It was the beginning of summer, so crows even migrate?

With the first floor cleared, you lead the charge upstairs. The floor boards only got louder with every step. You quietly asked whatever prime deity was watching that neither of your group would fall through the floor. The whole house felt unstable.

The top of the stairs lead you to a Hallway. It was small and only had two doors and at the end of it stood a large magnificent bookshelf.

You took the first door on the left accompanied by George while Sap and Dream opted to poke around in the hallway, formally splitting the group for the first time.

The room wasn’t very Large, nor could you tell what it was supposed to be used for as pretty much everything was covered with sheets of some kind. There were a couple of uncovered boxes laying on top of things, so it wasn’t completely boring. A couple of minutes of scavenging later, George called for your attention.

“Look at this” George presented you a beautiful lute from one of the few uncovered boxes. It was crafted out of a dark wood and had what you thought was engravings of fish along the sides. How old was this thing? Was it even usable?

“Let me see!” You asked, setting down the camera before making a grabby motion towards the lute, which was met with a questioning look from the Brit. “I want to see if it’s in tune.”

He decided that it was a good enough answer before handing over the old thing. You strummed the strings, and it sounded surprisingly good, despite the cloud of dust that came off it. You paused for a brief moment before playing a quick melody, just a song you played back in middle school for a recital. You hummed along until yelps from outside and many thumps.

You quickly set the Lute down and follow George out the door, fearing that something had gotten your two friends. However, instead of a gory mess, you saw Dream standing holding a book, while a whole pile of them at his feet, a few inches away from the bookshelf.

“The shelves just collapsed on themselves.” He quietly said. The look on his face was puzzled, like he was still trying to figure out what had happened.

“Or maybe,” Sap started. “The ghost doesn’t like you touching his stuff.”

“I’m keeping it then, the ghost doesn’t need it.”

“What’s the title of it?” You asked as you fake over to view the damage. Dream opened the book and flipped through it.

“It’s old, There isn’t a title nor is it in English, old English I think.”

What was such an old book doing in a relatively modern house? You shake the thought away and motioned for Dream to give it to you. “I’ll hold onto it, I want to see if I can get it translated.” Another treasure for your growing collection.

You turned back to check on George, he wasn’t next to you, instead he was messing with the final door, seeming to unjam the lock and push into the room. You decided to grab the lute and take it as a keepsake.

Picking it up again made your head feel... loud. You couldn’t tell which thoughts were yours and which were intruding. A pair of eyes were watching you somehow but the room was empty. Panic rose in your chest, your heart was beating so so loud. A cold hand touched your shoulders, yet you couldn’t tell if it meant you harm or not.

“Hey... are you okay?”

And it stopped. Everything was clear again. You turned your head to look back seeing Sap poke his head through the door. “You’ve been standing here for a while.”

You nod, “Yeah yeah... we should- we should stop splitting up.”

You’d only find out later that the Lute has the same effects that the other two objects did.

The house search was a bit of a bust. The only ‘Supernatural’ experience you had was the EMF meter going off and the strange experience with the lute which you opted not to tell your friends about, writing off as the Erie nature of the house getting to you.

Finding nothing else interesting, you took one last look at the entrance room before stepping out. You feel a weird sense of longing, something pulling at you not to go. You tried to shake off the feeling and you walked back to the car, just to put all your goodies away in the trunk.

All that was left on your to-do list was to check the outside area and the barn. Being the person that you are, you went straight to the barn. They boys could handle the rest of the property alone. alone The building had no doors you waltzed right though the entryway. Despite never actually being in a barn, it looked right to you.

It was devoid of any livestock, but there was Hay everywhere. Light shined through the holes in the ceiling, making the room clear enough. The soft blue liquid that was spread across the hay-

Wait. What?

Doing a second take revealed that the whole barn has some weird blue goo smeared everywhere. It looked too Fresh to be painted, it looked wet. There didn’t seem to be a set trail, just pools of it. You found most of it by a ladder that led up to a new section of the barn.

The blue substance was dripping from the loft of the barn.

It had to be.

And you were right! Sort of. Finally dragging yourself up the old latter not really minding the blue that now stained your clothes, you found the source.

He was standing- floating?- there, as if waiting for someone. The man was tall, taller than you or any of their friends, absolutely towering over you. His entire pallet was muted, his skin was fucking Grey. His attire was strange too. Something out of a renaissance fair. What was the strangest was that he was translucent and bleeding? Out of a cut on his chest. That blue substance oozing out of his stomach onto the floor boards.

He smiled.

“You found me, little songbird.”

The temperature drop had you shivering, but that also could have been from the absolute terror of seeing a real ghost.

That loud feeling returned in full force, directing your attention onto him.. You had to go. But it was like you were frozen place. He moved to cup your face, cooing as he looked you over.

“It’s not polite to touch things that aren’t yours, yet you handle them with so much care... I don’t mind.”

He wasn’t acting out of malice, thank prime, but It didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. He was too close.

“.... pretty songbird. My pretty songbird.”

A beat past before you could hear your friends calling for you. Your head cleared for a moment so you took it and ran. Practically flying down the ladder and hurting yourself in the fall. Ignoring the pain you booked it to the car right past Dream and Sap, who were standing by the entrance to the barn.

“We- We have to go. Now. Please we need to... to...” you couldn’t really tell what you were saying, everything was moving too fast. Great Prime, that was a real ghost. You- You were talking to a ghost. A Ghost called you a Song bird.

A Ghost.

That ended your hunt right there and then. You weren’t in a fit state to keep going. Especially not when you’re covered in... whatever this blue stuff is. You’d come to find later that you had a blue hand print on your face, right where the man had cradled your face.

You’re so out of it, you don’t realize when your friends are guiding you up the stairs to your home. One of them says something about leaving the loot in your garage, but you don’t really care. This is a future problem. You give a small thank you and a swift goodbye before passing out the second you feel your pillow under you.

So deep in sleep you don’t realize that your tiny home has a few new residents wandering about.

Or the fact that one of them watched over you as you slept

-----------

I AM SIMPLY ASHAMED OF HOW LONG IVE BEEN PUTTING THIS OFF IT WAS A CRINE TO NOT LET Y'ALL SEE THIS EARLIER. LIGHT YOU'VE DONE A FANTASTIC JOB AAUAUGGG

#submission #tw. yandere #c: dream #c: george #c: sapnap #c: wilbur #💡 anon

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lamiahypnosia · 2 years

Text

They did Sylvanas dirty.

Not just now with this shitty split soul nonsense.

I loved Sylvanas in Warcraft 3 because it was such a sausage fest then here's this woman with skill, cunning and strength who garnered respect. Then she gave her life to protect her people.

That's supposedly where the split took place- when she was under the Lich King's control. So what, a backup copy of her living self was made?

She was abused, straight up tortured then when given a chance to start over went on a path of vengeance. Which, okay, cool, you go girl with your revenge story. Then she commits not alive and meets the val'kyr and decides to master death, blah blah blah.

How about this.

Once Frostmourne is shattered Sylvanas gets her soul back. Maybe right at the moment she's contemplating not alive on top of Icecrown. She steps to the edge ready to release herself from this mortal world, to be with her kin in the afterlife but she stops. Her mind fills with memories. Tears fall down her cheeks for the first time since her death- not tears of fear but of grief, loss.

But she's not the only one. The Forsaken probably all feel the same way. Some might hate the living and want to destroy them. Most just want to live in peace.

Anyone who played vanilla remembers and even Classic goes back to lumping the Forsaken as all evil and shady but in recent years we've eased into a more plausible 'yeah some are filled with hate but others are just kinda depressed and some are even apathetic'.

I always liked viewing undeath as a metaphor for depression. "Yes I'm like this, I didn't choose this but I have to deal with it. The rest of my existence."

You could even look at it as trauma recovery. Sylvanas' story is about trauma recovery. It should have been about recovery instead of 'ooh look at Sylvanas playing 5D chess she's so cunning, what's she up to oooh'. I know a lot of y'all liked it but as someone in trauma recovery myself I'm not looking to become like my abuser. That's why this hard turn on her character pissed me smooth the fuck off. You made Sylvanas this badass, put her through trauma and instead of her helping others and finding salvation through that you made her worse than Arthas.

And I will die on that hill. Sylvanas is worse than Arthas. Why? The Forsaken served willingly and only to carry out Sylvanas' orders. Then when she was done with them she left them to ponder their future alone without a leader in a world that hates them. Then bringing back her pitiful, pretty, alive self to cry about it moves me fucking not, Blizzard.

My point is, it should have never come to this. Sylvanas having new powers out of nowhere from a mysterious source would have been an excellent hook if it was done better. I'd be okay with a doppelganger after, say, Legion but not a 'surprise! she was not the real Sylvanas all these years' was just...cheap, lazy, stupid and any number of awful things.

Sylvanas being all cunning and broody and dark should have fucking ended when the Lich King was defeated. Then we'd have the ranger general on the Broken Shore- that's how I choose to remember her. Who respected Varian, made dark jokes about resurrecting the troops when they fell, snarked about Thrall's shamanic powers and called the retreat to save the Horde.

(Also tangent- I'm still salty about Broken Shore. Yeah we know Genn you don't trust Sylvanas but didn't y'all discuss tactics? Do you know what a tactical retreat is? Did you think the Horde should throw itself away to save- oh yeah sure that's right, Genn, let the Hordies all die you grumpy old fuck. Wonder where Genn is during all this. Probably locked out of the vigil over Sylvanas' unconscious body so he can stay pissed off and try to break the armistice. Oh Blizzard I know you're chomping at the bit to pull that out...)

Do I think Sylvanas can be redeemed? Well maybe. I think the most fitting punishment would be to make her Lich Queen.

For your sins- you made the Forsaken the Scourge 2.0, used them, robbed them of hope so you could fill them with your vengeance, raised undead left right and center when you know first hand how awful undeath is. You like undeath now? Okay put this on and have a seat. You can contemplate what you did up here.

Boom. Sylvanas punished and she can scream sweet nothings into death knights' ears.

Warcraft is garbage and it's making me angry and sad.

#world of warcraft #sylvanas windrunner #lamia spews some venom #the horde #the forsaken #look at how they massacred my girl

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Text

Enough

My take?

Bakugou asks you out - it honestly comes out of nowhere.

Why would a pro hero be interested in just another paper-pusher working in his agency building?

(NSFW, rough fucking, slight predatorXprey)

You were flattered to say the least, but also intimated. He had stormed up to you at your desk (the man had never spoke to you before, so you didn’t know what to think) and slammed his hands down, rattling your pens in their cup, making you jump.

“You’re gonna go out with me”

“W-what?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Go out with me.”

Had you missed something? You had never talked to the man in your life, had only seen him as he came and went, your work station one of the ones on the same floor as his “office”.

There had been no indication that he was interested in you - there had been no indication that Bakugou even knew you existed.

But you didn’t want to insult the hero, you knew he was proud and brash and maybe not the best at feelings, so maybe he’d been wanting to ask you/ talk to you for a while.

Still, you didn’t feel comfortable saying yes.

Maybe it was the way he stood over your desk, practically leaning into your space, leering down at you with those bright red eyes. You didn’t like his tone, the way his words were a statement instead of a polite request. Almost as if he was ordering you to go out with him... or else.

So you brushed him off, you need some time to think about it, have to see if you have any free time (”I’ll give you a whole damn month off, lets fucking go do something or some shit.”) and you had to quickly come up with poor excuses, ones that both of you could tell were weak, fake.

Bakugou had just set his jaw, before clicking his tongue and storming back into his office, leaving you alone at your desk.

Yeah, that had been a weird day.

The next week at work had been weird too, Bakugou glaring at you whenever you unintentionally looked in his general direction. He caught you in the break room, leaning in the doorway with a cup of coffee clutched in his calloused hands.

The man just smirked, stood still, made you squeeze your way past him even though he was perfectly capable of moving.

He had bumped into you in the elevator, mouth set in a firm line that somehow seemed pleased when the elevator filled up with other people, allowing him to crowd into your space, literally breathe down you neck.

The pro hero managed to “accidentally” trip and spill his cup of water all over you, making your shirt stick to your skin, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He had scoffed at you, before you had hurried past him and rushed to the bathroom to try and pat your shirt dry with paper towels.

By the third week of Bakugou being an absolute shithead, you had made your decision - not that you were going to let him know that. He hadn’t asked you about going out any further, and by now you knew, you didn’t want to get involved with that.

Bakugou was too volatile, too unstable and angry and insecure. You wouldn’t be able to handle even trying to connect with him.

So you did your best to avoid him

----

And oh, did Bakugou notice.

He didn’t like being ignored, being fucking teased. Because that’s obviously what you were doing, playing hard to get. Well, he was good at this game, always got his prize, everything that he wanted in the end.

It was clear that you wanted his attention, any attention for that matter. You wore those tight little shirts, buttons almost straining at the seams, the top button undone so Bakugou could see down you shirt every time you bent over in his line of sight.

Those slutty skirts, short and form-fitting, the slit up the back giving teasing glimpses of your legs as you walked. Every skirt you owned made your ass look great, Bakugou enjoyed admireing the view everyday whenever you were turned away from his office, bending over at a co-workers desk to look at some documents or some shit like that.

Your silky stockings that made your legs look so long and soft and smooth, the high heels that clicked with each step. Even though each and every outfit was modest and work-appropriate, your body just wouldn’t quit. You looked hot, Bakugou wasn’t afraid to admit that it was the reason why he had noticed you.

But there were plenty of beautiful women employed by his agency.

You were special.

There was something about you, the spark in your eye, the straightness of your spine. You were bold, weren’t willing to roll over and show your stomach. Bakugou knew you were stubborn and confident and stupidly self-assured.

It intrigued him. You hadn’t thrown yourself at him, respected his space - that’s why you were allowed on the same floor as his office, one of the few desks that was in view of it.

He didn’t care about your existence at first. No, you were just another shitty extra. But damn, he had sure taken notice when you put an idiot in their place.

A fucking mailman had tried to “hand deliver” a package - meaning he was going to try and get up in Bakugou’s face, beg for an autograph, fanboy all over his office and be stupid and annoying and clingy. Bakugou was left wondering why the receptionist had even let him up, in which case damn, he should probably fire her or something.

Bakugou hadn’t even noticed the man until a shout drew his attention away from the boring paperwork on his desk. There you were, hands on your hips, staring down an angry mailman who was flailing his arms like a goddamn octopus. The man was mad, shouting at you about delivering the package, before you promptly snatched it out of his hands.

You set it to the side on your desk, before crossing your arms and turning back to the shocked mailman. You informed him that he could either get out now, or you’d drag him out by his ear, since he wanted to act like a pissy little baby.

And damn, did that make Bakugou pay attention to you.

Unfortunately, after the mailman had left with his tail between his legs, you hadn’t even attempted to take the package to Bakugou. You had asked one of your coworkers to do it, Bakugou had watched you gesture to the box on your desk while talking to one of the other employees. Truthfully, Bakugou was a little disappointed you weren’t going to come into his office.

But from that day on, he was hooked on you.

And now, with you trying to play coy, being a little bitch that couldn’t own up about their feelings? Bakugou was furious with you. He had been man enough to admit his feelings, to ask you out on a date, show his interest. And what had you done? Brushed him off, gave little fucking stupid excuses and tried to smile your way out of things.

Bakugou could see what you were playing at.

Little tease.

He could tease right back.

After weeks of your stupid flirty game, Bakugou was done. It was clear you weren’t interested in him, kept avoiding him and turning the other way whenever you spotted him. Tried to take the stairs in order to not run into him on the elevator, conveniently got sick whenever Bakugou wanted to do trust building exercises with the team working on his floor.

He didn’t need your fucking approval, he could take what he wanted. You thought you were better than him? You were nothing but dirt.

Granted, you were pretty dirt - dirt that made his heart clench tight and his dick twitch whenever he thought of you in your little pencil skirts.

But still dirt.

And for some reason, even though you had subtly turned him down, you still decided to be the worlds biggest tease. Bakugou was going to snap, he was frustrated and horny and angry that you didn’t even have the balls to tell him in person that you didn’t want to go out with him.

All day you’d been acting extra flirty, laughing with your coworker over some stupid shit, the sound making Bakugou’s do little flips. He saw you accidentally drop a stack of papers - bend over to pick them up, perfect little ass sticking out just for him. You had ate your lunch at your desk, coincidentally Bakugou also randomly decided to do the same, watching you lick yogurt off your spoon. God, the way your tongue swirled around the spoon, licking up the creamy white substance had Bakugou popping a stiffy, had him chewing through his vegetables with a little more force than normal.

After lunch you had given a quick stretch of your arms, letting your back curve just right and Bakugou wanted to swear as you let out a breathy little moan as you stretched out a sore muscle, no one else around to hear it but him.

Fuck.

Getting through the rest of the work day was hell, Bakugou remaining seated at his desk so he wouldn’t have to be bothered with trying to hide his boner when he stood up. He had to watch you welcome your coworkers back from lunch, smile at one of them, let out a stupid little giggle at some stupid shit one of the fucking stupid little employees said.

He tried to put you out of his mind, focus back on his work. He was managing to do it pretty well actually, until his bladder got the best of him and he had to make a trip to the bathroom. Luckily by then his boner had gone down.

There weren’t many people on this floor, no need for separate bathrooms - just one single room, unisex.

Bakugou knocked on the door waiting barely a second before pulling it open, almost blowing up the damn thing as someone practically fell onto him.

“Sorry! I was just opening the door and I didn’t hear you knock…” You trailed off as you realized who was attached to the arms steadying you.

Bakugou glared at you, not listening. He was focused more on the fact that your breasts were squished up against his chest, could feel your rapid heartbeat, was so close that he could see the bright little specks of color in your eyes as you gazed up at him with a shocked expression.

With a flurry of movement, you pushed yourself away from your boss, stumbled backwards, and promptly fell flat on your ass.

Now normally, Bakugou would burst out laughing, or maybe sneer and goad you about being clumsy and dumb, but not now.

Not when he had caught a glimpse up your skirt as you fell away from him.

HIs heart was beating so fast in his chest, Bakugou didn’t even register your quick “So sorry sir!” as you scrambled to your feet, hurriedly trying to straighten out your clothes. He could only stare at you, try to control his breathing, stop himself from jumping you right then and there.

Were you serious? Teasing him like this, leading him on, being an absolute slut with no remorse? He could barely believe you. As you dashed past him, cheeks flaming, Bakugou watched you go, a plan forming in his head.

He was going to teach you a lesson.

——

Bakugou waited until the end of the work day, 4:55, before exiting his office and stomping over to your desk.

“Hey, I need you in my office in twenty minutes.”

You looked up at him, confused, brow furrowed. “Bakugou-san, it’s almost five.”

Bakugou could care less, sneering. “And? I need you to stay later. You and I are gonna have a little discussion about your compliance with company rules about work attire.” You turned bright red, glancing quickly down at your outfit. “Of course, I can talk to you now if you’d like, out where all your coworkers can hear me tearing you a new one. …Your choice.”

Glaring up at him, you shook your head, spitting out “I’ll see you in twenty minutes Bakugou-san.”

He smirked as he turned away from you, swaggering back into his office. The man liked your little spark of defiance, the stubbornness hiding deep down.

The two of you would be having a lot of fun in a little while.

There wasn’t much more for him to do except wait, scroll through his phone, boots knocked up on his desk, leaning back in his office chair, hand behind his head. It was almost amusing, watching you say goodbye to your coworkers as they left, pretending to straighten your desk and finish up whatever you had been working on.

Ten minutes passed, Bakugou watching you squirm out of the corner of his eye as each subsequent “goodbye” of your peers left you more secluded with your boss.

Twenty minutes passed and you got up, straightening out your skirt before coming to knock loudly at his office door, pushing it open before he could acknowledge your presence. He raised an eyebrow at the subtle show of disrespect - maybe you knew what game he was playing, were trying to rile him up even more? Every little play of yours made his blood burn hotter.

You sat down in the chair across his desk, folding your hands in your lap, tucking your feet to the side - the very picture of professional employee. Bakugou kicked his boots off his desk, leaning forward over his desk.

He didn’t say anything, just watched you, narrowing his eyes as you lifted your chin, staring straight back at him.

“If you had me stay late just so you could try to intimidate me, that’s disappointing.“ Bakugou shrugged at you, and you almost snorted before continuing. “I’m curious as to why I’m here - my work attire is always appropriate, I complete my work on time, there’s no reason for complaints. What am I not doing for you? I’m a good employee.”

“Well, for starters-“ Bakugou stood up, rolling his neck, relishing in the subsequent pops from his bones releasing stress. “You could stop always being such a fuckin’ tease.”

The look of confusion on your face was priceless.

“It’d be nice if we could get this game over with too - much as I like playing, I wanna get to the part where my cock is down your throat.”

Mouth dropped open in shock, you quickly snapped it shut, a blush rising on your cheeks. “What game? This is inappropriate Bakugou-san-“

“What game?” Bakugou scoffed. “This little game of cat-and-mouse. Damn, didn’t take you as the dense type. Are you just trying to get me to punish you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you - little slut.”

Bakugou knew you weren’t playing a game with him, knew that your teasing was unintentional. But your obliviousness made him hard, and it was fun watching you rocket to your feet, indignant at his words. Before you could even get a response out, Bakugou spoke again, starting to walk around his desk towards you.

“Seriously, don’t act fucking stupid. If you want me to spank you so damn bad, all you gotta do is ask.”

He held out his hands, as if it was ridiculous that he had to tell you this. The blond could tell you were starting to get what was about to happen, eyes flickering down to the steadily-growing bulge in Bakugou’s pants. He could see the wheels turning in your head, the reasons he wanted to talk to you after everyone had left for the day, why he had been such a creep these past few weeks.

You bolted.

Heels clicking against the floor, only able to take short steps in your pencil skirt, brain blank with fear.

This was exactly how Bakugou had wanted this to go.

He wanted to chase you down, pin you despite how you struggle, and fuck you like an animal.

It was easy for him to cut you off from the elevator, leaping over desks and sliding in front of the doors before you could reach them. With a frustrated cry, you whirled on your heel, dashed towards the stairwell. Bakugou beat you there too, lunging at your form and pushing you to the side before you could open the door.

You stumbled, a heel coming off in the process. You shucked off the other shoe, taking a second to throw it at your boss. Bakugou laughed as he dodged the strong throw, your heel thudding uselessly against the wall behind him.

“Keep running bitch, you won’t get far - there’s no where to go.” He taunted.

You barely waited a moment before taking off across the office floor again, able to go faster without difficult shoes. You were heading back towards Bakugou’s office, the man realized. A smart move - the door locked, there was a phone you could use to call for help. Too bad you wouldn’t even reach the door.

The pro-hero grabbed your shoulder, pulled to whip you around to face him, making you stumble backwards. Without missing a beat, he slapped you across the face, palm burning. That wasn’t part of the plan, but Bakugou was worked up, running on adrenaline and emotions. Your head whipped to the side from the force of the slap, shocked.

Taking advantage of your sudden stillness, Bakugou grabbed your waist, lifted you up and into his arms. Your arms were flailing now, trying to punch and hit and scratch but even with your strength you were barely a nuisance to the pro-hero.

Here’s the part that he had trouble with - where was the best place to bend you over? Your desk? Should he shove you to the ground and rip off your skirt? Up against the wall where he could thrust up into you with wild abandon?

On his own desk?

That sounded good.

The man marched to his office, kicked open the door and then kicked it shut, wincing when you landed a solid kick to his knee that twisted the joint a bit too far to the left. “Goddamn, you still gotta lot of energy? That’s gonna change, I’m gonna fuck you until you pass the fuck out.”

You shrieked at his admission, doubling your efforts to try to get the man to loosen his hold on you. Bakugou dropped you onto his desk so you were sitting upright, wrenched your thighs apart, stood between them as he wrapped a hand in your hair and pulled your neck back as he pushed himself flush against your body.

“Mm, you feel real damn good. Like the way you struggle ’n shit - rubs just right over my dick. Feel how big I am? I’m gonna fuck you open with it.”

He could hear your choked whine, still too proud to beg. No, you were too stubborn and proud to beg and plead right away. Bakugou knew you would after he broke you down though, had you drooling over his desk.

The man used this moment to bite at your neck, relishing your gasp as he bite down roughly on the side, before quickly sucking over the red indentions of his teeth. Your hands were on him, one wrapped around the wrist of the hand wrapped in your hair, the other hand pushing against his chest as if that was going to make him go away or some shit.

His hand not wrapped in your hair fisted into your shirt, uncaring of the fabric as he flexed his arm, literally tore it off your upper half. Bakugou didn’t have the patience to take it off properly; He had waited too long for this, he was almost lightheaded with how much blood was rushing through his dick right now.

You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy - which was good, cause Bakugou ripped that off too, leaving you bare from the waist up. He was breathing heavily, panting as he quickly glanced at your body, taking in your soft skin, the rise and fall of your chest as you squirmed and whined and tried to escape from his grip. He liked the way you leaned your upper half away from him, following the hand pulling your hair so it wouldn’t pull your strands, subsequently pushing your lower half against your boss.

The blond groped roughly at your tits, giving quick little slaps to each one to watch them jiggle.

“You have been such a fucking tease, you know that? Wearing these tight outfits, little shirts that don’t even cover your tits. Every time you bend down I can see right down ‘em, see what the tops of your tits look like.” With a grunt, Bakugou bent his head, biting roughly at the top of your chest. “Makes me wanna fuck your tits, spit all over ‘em until they’re dripping, make you hold ‘em together around my dick. God, that’d be hot.”

He let go of your hair, hands falling to your waist to pull you closer so he could grind his bulge between your legs. With him not pulling your head back, you could focus on what he was doing, fight back.

Bakugou felt the burning pain on his cheek, then heard the sound, then registered that you had just slapped him. Fucking bitch. With a growl, Bakugou grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks painfully in-between his fingers, bringing your face forward so he could press his forehead against yours.

“Try that shit again, see what happens. I can assure you it won’t be fuckin’ pretty. I don’t mind, but you probably would.” He threatened. Your eyes shined, not wet with tears, still sparking with the fire of defiance.

Bakugou wanted that spark. Did he want to extinguish it? Fan it into a blazing fire? He didn’t know, he just wanted.

He glanced at your lips quickly, instinctively licking his own before making eye contact again. He couldn’t resist - didn’t want to. Bakugou surged forward, capturing your lips with his own, immediately biting and growling into your mouth, using the hand on your waist to move you against himself, humping into your clothed pussy.

When he pulled away, you were gasping, a string of saliva dripping down your chin.

The blond gripped at his throbbing cock through his pants, groaning. His hands moved to your skirt while pulling you to your feet, clumsily fiddling with the zipper in the back, trying to tug it down with one hand while the other kneaded into your chest.

With how you were positioned, it’s no surprise when he felt you bite down onto the side of his neck.

Bakugou laughed, tapering off into a moan as the pain bloomed in his neck.

Fuck, that felt good. He didn’t mind you biting at him, even if you were doing it to try and get away from him, and not out of lust.

Finally beating the zipper on your skirt, Bakugou stripped off the garment, whistling when you were revealed to him, no panties covering your sex. There you stood, nothing but smooth, sheer panty-hose covering your legs.

Bakugou flipped you around, shoved your face into his desk. He needed to be inside you now, he was done with games, done with the teasing, done with the dirty talk.

You were bent at the waist, ass up in the air. The blond quickly undid his pants, pulling down his boxers just so his dick could be pulled out. There was already precum beading at the tip, and Bakugou hissed as he gave his member a quick stroke. Letting go of his cock, the man took hold of your panty-hose, right at the crotch, smirking as you wiggled around, yelling profanities.

Damn, you really were perfect for him.

The panty-hose ripped easily, a large hole that exposed your cunt, the barest hint of wetness in between your folds. The blond didn’t want to wait to prep you, simply spat into his hand, gave his cock a quick stroke to cover it in his saliva, then lined himself up, cock nudging at your pussy.

“Relax your fucking hole bitch, this’ll hurt less.” He paused, surprising himself. Usually he wasn’t so considerate. “Or not, again, your choice.”

And with a snicker, the man began slowly pushing in, grunting as he was immediately met with tight resistance. But Bakugou wasn’t a quitter, and what he wanted, he got.

It took several minutes - minutes of you beginning to cry, beg for him to stop, shrieking at each new inch that sunk into you. Bakugou on the other hand had his head thrown back, calloused hands gripping your hips tightly to prevent you from moving anywhere but back and further onto his cock.

And then he was bottomed out, balls pressed against the top of your pussy, the pressure teasing your clit.

“Jesus Christ, You’re such a damn tease, but fuck, this pussy’s worth the work.”

You squirmed, before stilling as you gasped, able to physically /feel/ your boss’s cock twitching inside of you.

Bakugou didn’t waste any time getting to work.

“You have been riling me up every damn week. I fucking hate you and you’re slutty little body, making me all hot n shit- haven’t been able to focus on anything. Stupid bitch.”

He was thrusting into you, pushing you across the desk before pulling you back onto his cock.

“Bet this is what you wanted the whole time. It’s why you brushed me off, huh? Ignored me like that? You just wanted me to hold you down and take what I fuckin’ want.”

Deep down, Bakugou knew that wasn’t true. It was clear by the way you struggled, your pathetic cries, you whimpering “No, no I’ll rip your fucking throat out!” On each thrust. But even deeper down, Bakugou didn’t care whether you wanted this or not.

He did, and that’s what mattered.

His abs were clenching, pleasure shooting through his gut as you tightened around his cock, practically milking him. The suction was heavenly, made him groan, made him relax down against your body, sprawling to cover your back.

Like this, Bakugou let his arms rest over your shoulders, his hands grabbing the other side of the desk. Your hips were trapped against his, pinned to the desk. There was no where for you to go, you could barely breathe with the man’s weight on you.

But it let Bakugou hammer into you like a stallion.

You whined as his speed increased, aided by his grip on the desk, his hips working furiously, skin loudly slapping against skin.

With a growl, Bakugou buried his face in between your shoulder blades, mouthing roughly at the skin there, panting and growling and groaning like an animal as he fucked you.

Fuck, he was close, fuck.

With one last thrust, his balls tightened up, his dick jumping. He quickly pulled out, immediately reaching his hand down so he could fuck into his fist, and within seconds the man was cumming over your back.

Fuck, that felt fucking amazing.

When he was able to think clearly again, actually bring air into his lungs, Bakugou looked down at you, laying limp against his desk. There was a shine of wetness between your thighs, your pussy glistening and clenching around nothing.

“Aw, poor little tease wants to cum?”

He could tease too, giving your ass a quick, light slap. With an embarrassed shudder, you nodded imperceptibly. Bakugou chuckled, bringing his fingers down to the puffy little nub nestled at the top of your pussy. “If you want me to make you cum, you gotta say so. Don’t try and tell me you aren’t turned on’ you’re a shitty-ass liar.”

You trembled, before managing to spit out “Make me cum.” Bakugou shuddered, loving the hate filling your voice, the emotion. You sounded like you wanted to kill him, strangle him with your bare hands, and yet you were still begging for him to make you cum. How pathetic.

“Mm, too damn bad-“ Bakugou pulled his fingers away from your cunt, slapping your ass again, a little harsher this time. “Maybe next time I’ll let you cum. Teasing sluts don’t get to have shit, gotta earn it first.”

Maybe next time he’d fuck your throat.

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