#this better be the only trash opinion i ever hear come out of your mouth i s2g | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ivyangels-blog · 2 years

Text

Maybe You Can Change (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

A/N: i wrote this as a female reader, but i’m pretty sure that aside from one mention of reader being a “waitress” it’s gender neutral.

Summary: Your Dustin’s older sister (or brother) and want to help keep the kids safe, that’s about all you and Steve have in common.

Warnings: swearing, Billy is an ass, violence, injury, hate to love, only partially edited writing

Word Count: 4.1k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is a scientific discovery!” I hear Dustin shout from the other room.

I stand up from helping Max sweep up glass and head into the kitchen to see Steve and Dustin shoving the dead demadog into the refrigerator.

They slam the fridge door shut and Steve rubs the top of Dustin’s head through his cap.

My heart clenches, recognizing the brotherly bond they have. I’ve always been Dustin’s idol, but ever since Steve came along he’s all my little brother can talk about.

“Dustin, do you mind taking the trash can to the others?” I ask, holding out the bin for him.

“Sure.” Dustin takes the bin from my hands and heads into the living room.

Steve turns to me, giving me a slight nod as he leans on the refrigerator door.

“Thanks for looking after him,” I say. “Dustin. He told me about what happened with the demadogs and I’m glad someone was here to keep him safe.”

When I first went with Nancy and Johnathan to visit Murray, I had no idea what was going to happen while I was gone. I’ve been kicking myself ever since I got back for not being here for Dustin. I’m kicking myself even more for leaving him with Steve Harrington, the biggest dirtbag I know. Dustin may say he's changed, but I'm having trouble believing it. I used to waitress at Benny's Burgers and Steve and his friends would come in nearly every shift, ordering like one milkshake each and a small order of fries and staying for hours. They were so obnoxious they'd drive my other customers away, and they hardly ever tipped. Not to mention the time Steve spilled his drink all over the floor and didn't bother to mention it until after I'd slipped in it.

“Oh, uh… yeah, no worries.” Steve crosses his arms with a shrug.

“You know he looks up to you more than anyone else in the world.”

Steve smiles a little, but I don’t mean it as a compliment.

“So, don’t hurt him and don’t teach him to grow up to be a dick like you.”

Steve’s face falls. “Y/n, I’m not like that anymore. I know I was a real jerk, but I swear that’s all in the past.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you really think you can just snap your fingers and become a better person over night? That everyone should just forget about all the terrible things you’ve done and move on?”

“No, of course not.” Steve shakes his head. “But I’m trying. You have to give me credit for that.”

I scoff. “I don’t have to give you shit.”

Steve's mouth opens to say something, but he's cut off by shouts from the kids in the next room.

"Guys, we have an idea on how we can help," Dustin's head pokes around the corner, a bright smile on his face.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, making my way into the living room with Steve close behind me.

"If it works like a hive mind, then we can light fire to the hub and draw the demadogs away and clear a path to the gate," Mike explains.

"No way, it's too dangerous," Steve butts in. "We wait here, where it's safe. That's the plan."

"Come on. El can't do this on her own. We should be doing everything we can to help her." Dustin turns to me for approval. "Please, Y/n."

I don't want Dustin to get hurt, or any of the other kids for that matter, but right now he's valuing my opinion above Steve's. Not to mention agreeing with Steve on anything right now is not something I want to do.

"Hey, I said no. We're supposed to make sure you guys don't get hurt." Harrington points at Dustin and each of the kids, his other hand on his hip. I'd laugh at how silly he looks if I wasn't filling up with rage at how he's undermining my authority.

The kids release an array of protests, all of their voices melding together. It's impossible to understand what any of them are saying, until Max shouts above the rest of them.

"Guys, my brother's here," she says, from her spot by the window. "He'll kill me if he finds out I'm here."

"Get away from the window," I tell her, motioning her towards me. "I'll handle it." I make my way towards the front door, but a hand clasped on my shoulder stops me.

"No way, I'll talk to him." Steve moves to slide past me, but I put my arm up, blocking his path.

"Absolutely not. You and him combined will result in enough testosterone to blow this place up." I put my hand on the handle of the front door, pushing him and the kids back around the corner. "Just wait here."

I open the door, stepping outside, just as Billy is climbing out of his car.

"Henderson?" he questions, jostling the cigarette tucked between his lips. "What are you doing here?"

My shoes crunch on the gravel driveway as I step closer to him. "I could ask you the same thing." I do my best to keep my tone friendly, but it's hard to keep my cool when Billy's puffing smoke in my face.

"I'm looking for Maxine. Heard she might be here." Billy looks over my shoulder, obviously at the window.

I shrug, feigning ignorance. "I haven't seen her."

"Is that so?" Billy asks, testing me.

I nod.

"I would've thought you had. She hangs out with your brother, right? I told her to stay away from that little mutant." Billy tilts his head back, letting out another puff of smoke.

I clench my fist at my side. “Well lucky for you she must have listened, Max isn’t here,” I grit out.

“Then you won't mind if I just take a look inside.” Billy bumps my shoulder, brushing past me.

“Hey, you can’t just go in the Byers' house without their permission.” I grab his arm, pulling myself back in front of him.

“Don’t worry,” he says, flashing a condescending smile. “I’ll knock.”

“The Byers aren’t here right now. They had an emergency and asked me to watch the house. So, you can just leave.”

Billy continues to step closer to me, and I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

His gaze drops down, looking at where my hand lies on his chest. He grabs my wrist, prying it away from him.

I try to pull away, but the vice of his fingers is unforgiving, and he only tightens his grip the more I struggle.

“Billy, let go,” I say, using almost the full force of my body to get free.

He doesn’t listen, anger lighting his face as he twists my wrist away, causing me to cry out.

I hear the front door open and Billy’s fiery gaze turns away from me.

“Is that you, Harrington?” he asks.

“Let her go,” is Steve’s only response.

“Not a problem.” Without looking at me, Billy yanks my arm, releasing me as I stumble to the ground.

I just barely catch myself on the ground, the little bits of gravel digging into my palms and pain shooting up my already bruising wrist.

I hear a scuffle behind me and push myself up, wiping my hands on my jeans. When I get to my feet, I see Steve doubled over on the ground, panting.

“You alright?” I ask.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” He holds up a hand, as he continues to catch his breath.

A crash from inside jerks my attention away, and I run through the already open front door.

Max, Dustin, and Mike are gazing into the next room, horrified looks on their faces. I round the corner, seeing Lucas pinned against a china cabinet by Billy.

“Get back, get back,” I step in front of the kids, pushing them further away from Billy.

I’m getting ready to surge at Billy, when Lucas knees him in the groin and Billy falls back with a grunt.

“You’re dead, Sinclair,” Billy pants. “You’re so dead.”

Fear lights my chest, knowing that there’s no way I’ll be able to stop Billy.

Before I can start to formulate a plan, Steve comes running in, stepping in front of me and the kids.

“No, you are,” Steve says, turning Billy towards him and punching him straight across the face.

Billy turns away, spitting out blood, and Lucas comes running across the room to us.

“Are you okay?” I ask, gripping his shoulder.

Lucas nods, and Mike, Max, and Dustin pull him into a hug.

Billy’s laughing now, blood dripping on his mouth, and it’s terrifying. “Looks like you’ve got some fire in you after all!” he shouts. “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone’s been telling me so much about.”

Billy waves his arms, stepping closer to Steve, not seeming even the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he just punched him.

Steve places a light touch on his chest, pushing him away. “Get out.”

Billy looks on, and for a split second I think he might just listen, but then he takes a fast swing at Steve.

Steve dodges it, throwing another punch at Billy that sends him flying into the table.

"Yes, Steve! Kick his ass!" Dustin screams beside me.

Steve punches Billy a few more times, backing him into the kitchen counter.

Hope soars in my chest, despite Billy's reputation as a tough guy, it looks like Steve might be able to win this.

Billy's hand falls on one of Joyce's plates, pulling it into his grip.

"Watch out!" I shout, but it's too late, Billy smashes the plate over Steve's head, sending him staggering, towards us.

"Holy shit," Dustin shouts. I push him and the rest of the kids backwards, as Billy comes stomping towards us, headed for Steve.

"Steve." I reach for him, but Billy gets to him first, yanking him up by his collar.

"No one tells me what to do," Billy fumes, crashing his head into Steve's.

The kids are all shouting, screaming, begging Billy to stop, as he towers over Steve, pinning him to the floor and punching him repeatedly.

I rush forward, not sure if I'll even be able to make a difference. I latch onto Billy's arm, pulling as hard as I can, which only succeeds in him, elbowing me in my cheekbone, sending me falling backwards.

"Stay out of this," he spits, continuing his battering on Steve.

I search the room, looking for anything I can use as a weapon.

"What the-" Mike mutters, and suddenly the terrible sounds of punching have stopped.

I turn back and see Billy rising, one of the syringes we used to sedate Will protruding from his neck.

Max looks on, slowly backing away, gauging his reaction.

Billy pulls the syringe from his neck, staring at his sister with rage. "What the fuck did you do to me, you little bitch?" he murmurs, the sedative already kicking in.

It's not long until he falls to the floor.

I rush over to Steve, who's face is completely covered in blood. I lift his head up, calling his name, but he's not conscious.

I hear Max, drive a bat into the floor. "Say you understand!" she shouts at Billy.

Billy murmurs an, "I understand" and she drops the bat to the floor, digging through his pocket and pulling out a set of car keys.

"Let's go," she says to Mike, Dustin, and Lucas.

"Hold on, Steve needs help." I stand up, halting the kids plans.

"El needs help, too. And I think what she's dealing with is a little worse than a few bruises," Mike butts in.

I sigh, glancing back down at Steve.

"Lucas, find a first-aid kit. Mike grab some ice packs. Dustin, get whatever you need for this crazy plan of yours. Max you can help him." They all turn, going in different directions, hopefully doing what I told them to. "Hold on," I say, stopping Max. "Give me the keys, I'll drive."

After some heavy lifting from all of us, we're in the car with Dustin giving me instructions on where to go.

"Then make a left up here," Dustin points, I quickly jerk the vehicle to make the turn.

"Have you ever driven before?" Lucas asks, as we dodge a trashcan on the side of the road.

"Yes," I retort.

"Yeah, like once," Dustin chimes in.

"Shut up," I fire back.

"It's true!"

"Hold on, hold on, he's waking up."

I glance over my shoulder and see Steve in the backseat, turning his head slightly.

Dustin mutters words of encouragement to him, as Steve groans.

"What's going on?" he asks and I hear panic start to rise in his voice.

"Don't worry, we have a plan."

"Y/n?" Steve murmurs. "I thought we agreed this wasn't happening."

"Sorry, Steve." I step on the gas, knowing that we're almost there.

"Great, you're going to get us all killed." Steve sits up in the backseat, leaning over the center console, but quickly falling backwards, as I speed up more.

I pull across the field, stopping the car and putting it in park.

The kids and I immediately climb out, them going to the trunk and unloading all the materials we brought.

"Hey, this isn't happening. Guys! Guys, stop it." Steve tries to grab everyone's attention, but they're all ignoring him, carrying out the mission like we planned.

I come up behind Steve, clapping him on the shoulder. "You know, Billy got you pretty bad. No one would blame you if you wanted to wait in the car. I can look after the kids."

Steve gives a fake laugh. "No way." He turns to the kids and their gear. "Pass me some of that." He holds out his hands and Dustin hands him a backpack.

Within minutes, all of us have covered our faces with bandanas and glasses. Ready to drop into the Upside Down.

“Are we really doing this?” Steve asks, me as we stand over the edge of the hole.

“What are you scared?” I ask, dropping in to join the kids who are already mapping out which way to go.

Steve drops down beside me a second later.

“This way,” Mike says, heading down one of the tunnels.

“No way.” Steve jostles past all of us. “I’m leading the way.”

He turns his flashlight, Mike close behind him. I pull out the knife I brought with me, bringing up the rear.

“C’mon, move it,” I say, urging the kids to keep up with Steve.

As we get further through the tunnels, we come across weirder things.

“What the hell?” Dustin mutters looking up at a bulbous, glowing mass in the ceiling.

“Let’s just keep moving,” I tell him, wanting to get in and out as fast as possible.

We keep going until we come across a center area, where all the tunnels are connected.

“Well, Wheeler,” Steve says. “I think we found your hub.

I pull off my back, passing out cans of gasoline. “Drench it.”

When we’re finished, we all line up against the tunnel we came from. Steve pulls out a lighter, holding it in his hands.

“You guys, go ahead. This things gonna light up fast,” I say, pushing Dustin and his friends back up the tunnel.

Dustin grabs my arm as I turn to go back to Steve. “Wait.” He looks up at me and I can tell looking in his eyes, even though they’re covered by his silly scuba mask, what he’s thinking.

I pull him into a hug, squeezing him as tight as I can for just a second. “Don’t worry, we’ll be okay. Now get out of here.” I rush back to join Steve, standing by where he’s crouched down.

“Sure you don’t want to go with them?” he asks. “I can light this thing by myself.”

“And let you get all the glory? Not a chance.”

Steve tilts his head with a smile and flicks on the lighter and tosses it into the center of the hub.

Within seconds heat, warms my face.

Steve jumps to his feet, grabbing my arm and tugging me along.

“Go, go,” he shouts, as we sprint through the tunnels. I can hear the sounds of the flames crackling behind us, but don’t turn back.

Soon Steve and I can see the kids standing in front of us.

“Keep going,” I shout.

“Mike’s caught!” Lucas shouts back.

“Shit,” Steve pulls the bat out of his bag and once we catch up to them he smashes it down on the vine holding Mike.

We all rush to help Mike to his feet, but a growling makes us turn.

“Dart?” Dustin says, when he sees the monster in front of us. He slowly steps forward and I reach to pull him back, but he shakes me off.

“Just trust me on this.”

“Didn’t that thing kill Mews?” I ask, trying to reach for Dustin without making any sudden moves that might spark the creature to attack.

Dustin crouches down in front of it and I slap a hand over my mouth to cover the squeak that nearly comes out.

A hand grabs mine and I look up to see Steve, looking at Dustin with us much fear on his face as I feel in my heart.

“Will you let us pass?” Dustin asks, and Dart’s mouth flares open, exposing its razor sharp teeth.

Steve’s hand squeezes mine even tighter and I squeeze back.

“You hungry?” Dustin asks, pulling a candy bar out of his bag.

“Oh my god,” I murmur, as he practically touches the thing in order to feed it.

Dustin waves us forward without turning and I push Mike, Lucas, and Max around him.

Steve and I right behind them.

We pass Dart, grabbing Dustin on the way.

“Don’t ever do something like that again,” I warn, slinging my arm over his shoulder for a side hug while we walk.

Dustin just chuckles, but we’re interrupted by a roaring in the distance.

“They’re coming!” Mike screams. “Run!”

We all take off down the tunnel, slipping and sliding on the slimy walls.

“Where’s the exit?” Max shouts.

“There!” Lucas points to the dangling rope down one tunnel.

Steve runs ahead. “Come on! Come on!” He grabs Max as soon as she gets there, lifting her up so she has less rope to climb.

I help him lift Lucas and Max pulls him up from the other side. Mike is next and we manage to get Dustin up just as the first demadog comes around the corner.

“Start climbing, I’ll hold them off,” Steve braces himself with his bat, but I’m already pulling out my knife.

“Y/n!” Dustin calls from above, and my heart clenches at the sound, but I can’t bring myself to look up.

I brace myself as the herd of them races towards us, but when the first one flies past me, I drop my weapon slightly.

“What the hell?” Steve pulls me closer to him, our chests against each other, making more room for the monsters to avoid us.

I look up at him, to find him looking down at me. “What’s this?” he asks, fingertips brushing my cheek.

“Billy knocked me a little at the Byer’s house, but it’s fine. I’m a lot better off than you.” I chuckle a little, but Steve just gives a small smile, his face stony.

Soon, they’re all gone and Steve and I are alone in the tunnel, still pressed against each other.

We both back away with a cough and I move to grab the rope.

“Here let me help you.” Steve grabs my waist and boosts me up, the kids grabbing my arms and pulling me the rest of the way.

I plan to turn around and help Steve, but Dustin’s arms are latched around my waist the second I can stand.

“Hey, I’m okay,” I say, hugging him back. “I’m okay.”

“I know,” Dustin mumbles into my chest, still refusing to let go.

I look up and see that Steve has managed to climb out as, well.

I smile at him when he gets to his feet, removing one arm from Dustin’s back and motioning him into the hug, along with everyone else.

So, there we stand, on the edge of the Upside Down, all six of us clinging to each other, as the Gate finally closes.

"Dustin, Steve's here!" I call, seeing his car pull up out front.

"I'm not finished getting ready."

Dustin comes out, hairspray in hand.

"You look fine."

Dustin gives me a look and then heads back into the bathroom.

The doorbell rings and I rush to go get it. I open the door and Steve is standing there, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, y/n," he says, nodding his head when he sees me. I haven't seen much of Steve since the Gate closed.

"Hey." I step aside so he can come in. "Dustin's still getting ready."

Steve nods, standing beside me in the entryway.

"Your face looks better," he says, motioning to where Billy hit me over a week ago. The bruise has completely faded now.

"Thanks," I chuckle. "Yours does, too."

"Shit, I'm gonna be late." Dustin comes out, yanking his shoes on, his curls still loose on his head.

"Woah, calm down, dude." Steve puts his hands up. "I can do your hair in the car."

"Not while you're driving I hope."

Steve turns to me. "No, of course not. You can drive." He places his car keys in my hand.

"Um, I don't think you want me behind the wheel of your car." I go to hand the keys back, but he pushes them away.

"It'll be fine. I can give you like a driving lesson." Steve grabs the hairspray from Dustin's hand and we all head out to the car.

I nervously climb in the driver's seat, while Steve gets in the passenger's seat and Dustin sits in the back.

Steve directs me on how to drive and luckily for me, the school isn't that far away and this time there isn't the imminent threat of destruction urging me to drive faster, just Dustin whining about being late and getting hairspray in his mouth.

I pull up beside the school, turning to Dustin in the backseat. "Have fun," I tell him.

"Go get 'em tiger," Steve says, as Dustin climbs out the door and goes inside.

I move to unbuckle my seat.

"Hold on," Steve says. "We're not done with your driving lesson."

I grin at him, starting the car engine back up. "Where to?" I ask.

"I was thinking milkshakes at the diner on 5th."

I pull the car out of the school parking lot. "You know that hairspray probably stunk up your whole car, permanently."

Steve shrugs. "Nah, it usually just takes a couple hours to air out."

I turn to him a smirk on my face, and my eyebrows tugged together. "Use hairspray often?" I ask, knowing that his fluffy hair is his most sought after feature.

"No," Steve replies, shifting the bottle in his hands and I catch sight of the image on the side.

"Is that Farrah Fawcett hairspray?" I ask with a laugh.

"No." Steve drops the bottle to the floor. "Hey, eyes on the road!"

I'm still laughing as I turn my attention back to driving. I pull into the diner parking lot, which lucky for me is almost empty-I take up two spots.

Steve and I head inside and I walk up to the counter ordering one strawberry and one chocolate milkshake.

Steve gives me a funny look as I turn and head to the nearest booth.

"What?" I ask. "Chocolate's still your favorite, isn't it? It's all you used to order at Benny's."

Steve's face contorts as he slowly remembers. "You worked at Benny's?"

I smile. "Yup, back when you were still "jerk Steve."

Steve drops his head into his hands. "Dammit, I was awful to you."

He sounds so distraught that I feel bad for him. I reach over, pulling his hands away from his face. "Hey, don't worry about it. I know I was giving you a hard time earlier, but after seeing the way you protected the kids... it's hard not to like you."

Steve looks up at me, a cocky grin on his face. "You like me?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. "I hate you less. How about that?"

"I'll take it." Steve leans back in the booth, spreading his arms along the top. A strand of hair hangs loosely over his forehead, as he looks around the diner.

In that moment, gazing at him, I knew that my heart didn't hold an ounce of hatred for Steve Harrington.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve x reader #billy x steve #fanfiction

68 notes · View notes

bridgertonbabe · 1 year

Note

Haven’t read the entirety of your Royals AU, but I get Samantha Markle vibes when I think of the ones I’ve seen about Araminta trashing Sophie 😬

Yeah, Araminta's trashing of Sophie to the tabloids is very Samantha Markle inspired.

Sophie's step-mother couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the front page photos of Prince Benedict's new love being none other than her late husband's wretched excuse of a daughter. Araminta thought she had seen the last of her when she kicked her out of the house on her eighteenth birthday but to then see that she had snagged a prince of all people? (Especially when her perfect Rosamund couldn't even get a guy to text her back.) She was seething with jealousy and resentment. It made no sense that her second husband's bastard could ever be in the position of one day becoming a princess. Surely the royal family wouldn't let someone like her anywhere near their inner circle? Prince Benedict must have been out of his mind to be taken in by her - but then Araminta supposed she was her whore of a mother's daughter. Whatever Sophie's mother had done to seduce Richard must be what Sophie had done to dig her claws into the most eligible bachelor in the country. In Araminta's eyes she was wholly undeserving of coming anywhere close to having a princess title and she made it her mission to let everyone know this. And she didn't even have to reach out to the press - they sought her out after investigating Sophie's background and unearthing the link between them. Of course Araminta lapped up the attention (and all of the money that came with it) as the tabloids flocked to hear her side of the story. She sung like a canary for them, providing them with the perfect headlines for the public to pick up and read, and she made herself available to them at any time of day to give her insight and commentary into whatever was being reported on about her detestable step-daughter. Araminta couldn't wait for the day it was announced that Sophie had been dumped by the prince, or better yet rejected from the family altogether. But then, much to her eternal shock, she learnt that Sophie had moved in with the prince to the palatial apartment he resided in. And then further on down the line it was reported that the royal family had officially met Sophie and that according to palace insiders they all absolutely adored her. The news only fuelled Araminta further in her ongoing campaign of hate towards Sophie and she was still desperately rooting for the day Prince Benedict finally gave that bitch the heave-ho - until the news broke of the prince's engagement to Sophie. Araminta was apoplectic with rage and stuck to her warpath. There was no possible way that wretched girl should ever make it down the aisle to marry the prince and she voiced her disparaging opinion to whoever would listen. But then once Sophie made her first public appearances and started attending royal engagements, those in the general public who had been initially taken in by everything Araminta was spouting quickly recognised that Sophie Beckett was an absolute angel in human form and the tide of opinion turned against her step-mother. There were still tabloids and magazines that entertained Araminta's poisonous perspective of Sophie but general interest and paid opportunities began to wane. Even more people turned against her when Posy released a video publicly supporting Sophie and painting her own mother out to be a bitter and spiteful cow who was selling every vindictive word that came out of her mouth just for the attention and notoriety. Araminta had tried calling her miserable excuse of a daughter to make her rue the day she publicly sullied her name but Posy had blocked her out of her life, wanting as little to do with her mother as Sophie did. Then the day that Araminta thought would never actually happen finally came about and she ground her teeth and glared at the TV as Sophie married into the royal family, growling every time the crowds cheered for the bride, and throwing a glass vase at the wall when the camera showed Posy in attendance at the royal wedding. And so while Sophie went on to live her best life, Araminta spent the rest of her sad little life forever bitter and filled with unwarranted hate towards the nation's sweetheart.

#asks #royals au #araminta gunningworth

10 notes · View notes

ashipiko · 1 year

Text

quill milo and cooper incorrect quotes <3

🙏 cuz I like to post stuff all the time 🫶

(CLICK READMORE FOR QUOTES)

Quill: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.

Milo: The cow???

Quill: What?

Cooper: Milo, W H Y?

Quill: If Milo and I were drowning, who would you save?

Cooper: You two can’t swim?

Milo: It’s a hypothetical question, Cooper! who would you save?

Cooper: my time and effort.

Quill: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited!

Milo: If?

Cooper: Great, the only party I’ve ever been invited to and they might not even die.

Milo: You have to apologize to Quill

Cooper: Fine.

Cooper: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.

Milo: What do you think Cooper will do for a distraction?

Quill: He’ll probably, like, make a noise or dance. That’s what I would do.

Building explodes and several car alarms go off

Quill: ... or he could do that.

Quill: It’s a movie where people with sticks up their butts—

Milo: Who put the sticks up their butts?

Quill: Huh?

Milo: That is such a cruel thing to do. Who put the sticks up their butts???

Pierce: It’s just a phrase people say, Milo...

Quill: —says the raccoon.

Cooper: Don’t you DARE call me raccoon or else I’m gonna SCRATCH YOUR EYES OUT

Quill: Fine then! Trash panda.

Cooper: Tch.

Cooper (To Milo): ...Is that better than raccoon?

Milo: How would I know?

Quill, snickering: It’s so much worse.

Cooper: WHY YOU LITTLE—

Milo: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Cooper?

Cooper: No.

Quill: I do!

Milo: I know, Quill.

Quill: I’m sad!

Milo: I know, Quill.

Quill: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Milo: You’re a hazard to society

Cooper: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

Cooper: Hey Milo,

Milo: Yes?

Cooper: How much you wanna bet a person can breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Milo:

Milo: Where’s Quill?

Quill: Cooper and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Milo: Sighing What did Cooper do?

Quill: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Cooper: Who wants a steering wheel?

Milo: If you had to choose between Quill and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

Cooper: That depends, how much money are we taking about?

Quill: Cooper!

Milo: 63 cents.

Cooper: I'll take the money.

Quill: COOPER!!!

Milo: We need a distraction.

Cooper: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Quill, whispering: My time has come

Cooper: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Milo: turning to Quill How tall are you?

Quill: Tell Milo about the birds and the bees.

Cooper: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

Milo: This is such a bad idea.

Cooper: Then why are you coming along?

Milo: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Quill: I was thinking I'd do some magic-

Cooper: You? Magic? Quill, it says talent show.

Quill: Can you please be serious for five minutes?

Cooper: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

Milo: You often use humor to deflect trauma

Cooper: Thank you

Milo: I didn't say that was a good thing

Cooper: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

#ashi ocs ♡#cooper wilmot #pierce quill #milo apar #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc

6 notes · View notes

josiebelladonna · 2 years

Text

sigh.

remember when i said i barely go through fanfic tags anymore because i have better things to do? well… apologies ahead of time given i’ve said that i’m anything but a liar but.

i lied.

i look at them every day when i have a moment just to see what tickles my fancy. if something is good, i have a look but hardly ever is this the case. make no mistake: i do have far better things to do and i am moving when the time comes. it’s just finding the right place and having the money to fall back on. so, sometimes there is that stray moment where i simply can’t help but be curious. i think like a scientist: i have a very inquisitive mind.

if you’ve been following up with dead man walking, you might have seen in this last chapter that alex is feeling rather afraid at the moment because he feels peter caught up to him. krista tells him that he has thought ahead of him and he continues with it.

well, that scene aged and my statement both aged like wine. don’t ask me how because… i don’t even know.

i am seriously not sure as to what she was going for here with this, but i could only assume the worst just… knowing how she is.

the first thought that went through my head was “be scared of what, exactly?” especially since it feels oddly specific and it came in the wake of my saying that. i’ll admit that i probably looked into it too much but can you blame me, especially after i had just come down from my worst bout of anxiety in almost a decade? quite frankly, i saw it as a warning that came in the form of mocking me: “turn your back long enough and see what happens.”

if nothing else, it feels like she’s taking advantage of the fact i have anxiety and she can’t bear to be questioned or proven wrong.

i’m sorry, but it doesn’t matter how much you don’t like someone and how much you want to trash them through mediocre fic that should’ve ended months ago. someone’s opinion, no matter how annoying you think it is, is harmless. there’s that expression “opinions are like assholes: everyone has one and no one wants to hear it”, i feel it’s more like “opinions are like nitrogen: not sure why it’s there but it serves a purpose but at the end of the day, it’s not going to hurt you.”

it’s on you if you get so offended that you actually have to beef yourself up and get all up in arms about my place i have busted my ovaries the last three years to get to where it is now on a site i adore. it’s on you if your jealousy towards me gets so out of control that you actually have to flex and show off to everyone just how high and mighty you are and disguise it as “empowerment”, and not without taking words out of my mouth and passing it off as her own all the while, or something equally hilarious. she still hasn’t gotten tired of this.

i’ve said this at least 7 times before: i really don’t want to be doing this because it’s sad when you think about it, but it also isn’t. i’m not the one responsible for your madness, your anger issues, your gigantic ego, your closemindedness, and the fact you have your blinders up: YOU ARE.

i am genuinely worried about what she’s going to do next, whether it’s something drastic or not. she really is hellbent on taking me out even after i’ve tried to be gentle with her. so, because of this, i’m keeping a close eye on my ao3 and my tumblr. it’s like she lives in this backwards universe where heated words are met with blocking and i have to actually demonstrate my sincerity (dead man walking is one of those things i’ve always wanted to write, though—don’t take that the wrong way), and laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing is is met with “you should be scared”.

one thing i feel is keeping me safe—if it is a genuine warning—is i stay signed into my ao3, tumblr, twitter, instagram, and email, just out of habit, and i’ve opted out everywhere simply because tracking is so creepy… but it also keeps people from doing something horrible (and very illegal) like doxxing or hacking. really, with that in mind, plagiarism takes a back seat to everything else: absofuckinlutely, that can ruin someone’s life but so can getting into their account without their knowledge and wreaking havoc on it.

another thing that gives me the upper hand this time is that lie: i genuinely stopped caring about this a long time ago and i wanted to make that clear, but i said it out loud because though she has me blocked on here, she’s either stalking me or there’s someone here who’s a snitch. the hit counter and the map on my blog went kaput, but how else has she been reacting the way she has, weaponizing her own fic and dragging her readership down into the sewer just to prove how right she thinks she is (which, even on my worst day, i would never do anything that low)?

much like alex, i observed, learned from the lessons this whole thing brought me, and i thought ahead. i lied because i wanted to see what she would do. when nothing came of it, shortly after, i followed my nose to another place and one that got me thinking. surprise, surprise, she took the bait. i’m worried about what she could do, but i also am not. it did genuinely frighten me last night, like it felt like a legitimate threat to me and my little library, after all the work i’ve done for it.

don’t blame me for thinking. don’t blame me for having an opinion. can you blame me for being concerned, though? but at the same time… i can’t afford to be afraid. i went quiet all day today and i might continue that silence this weekend and tend to other things.

i’ve tried to go quiet in the past to see if it goes away and it obviously never did: i said i was laying low and it understandably almost sounds like she’s threatening to stab me in the back and upend my life when i least expect it (why i don’t believe “just ignoring” a bully ever helps—it never has for me).

it’s hard to say, though, knowing how her reputation is even after everything that’s happened. but the biggest names don’t last forever, though.

honestly, at this point, two years after it happened, the problematic aspects of her fics are still too obvious to ignore. she’s all talk, too: the one fic from her i genuinely liked, stay, showed me a little nugget of genuine humanity. but that was pretty much it and my one complaint was the ending was kind of meh. but otherwise, i never saw her throw her weight around and the times she did, it was only to benefit herself and to brag. add to this, she only wants risqué het fic from people, even if it sucks: she doesn’t care about quality or if it’s something she genuinely enjoys. she just thinks, “hmm, porn!” and gobbles it up.

i like porn as much as the next fan chick and i’ve been playing up the whole “boy-hungry maniac” trope since late last year, but to do this to yourself, only crave things that are just the least bit sexual, it tells me how low your standards are. good heart or not, if you have low boundaries, it’s hard to take you seriously, and i speak from experience with this, too—this would probably explain why her fics tend to attract some of the most histrionic people, too.

i warmed up to her because i wanted to be more familiar with the fic community: i was returning to it after a very long time of writing originals. plus, she believes she is the only one to write something truly adult when that’s very obviously not true.

she feels like she always has to be constantly right and be first, no matter who she’s up against, either. it’s something that i have to work on myself.

but someone who’s a monstrous narcissist like her doesn’t think too broadly, though: for example, a christmas carol has been in the public domain since the 1940s, world war 2—nearly a century at this point—and yet she had to write a disclaimer for it on her fic “on a wicked night”, probably just to spite me (joke was on her, though: i was working on amped and wired and the first two books of fever then, so it didn’t even cross my radar and there was no point to it, anyway). if you don’t believe me, here:

there’s also her claims of “sketchiness of wattpad” like here

but if you go to her wattpad right now, her fics have reads in the thousands. yeah, reeeeeeal sketchy, a place that has been so kind to you but you wouldn’t know this because it does look legit, doesn’t it? but that place has been very kind to her, so it comes off as bit of a backhanded compliment—and knowing how she cherry-picks my words and buries the rest, and the fact she reuploaded her anthrax fics save for stay, the silence, and i think only onto ao3 whereas they’re all untouched over there, it’s easy to see this.

all of it is just too damning.

i’ve always wanted everyone to at least know that i didn’t ask for any of this.

not only is it really fucking weird and borderline unsettling for someone her age to be behaving like this (i’ve met toddlers who are more mature than her), but the way she exhibits her anger, her “inner dave mustaine” as she calls it (good job doing this to dave, by the way—i know he doesn’t give a shit but he doesn’t need this attached to his name regardless, especially with ellefson trying to win back the crowd and whatnot), makes it sound like if you even so much as step out of line in her eyes she’ll burst out of the screen and fucking attack you.

her whole entire attitude reeks of “hannah asked for this treatment” when i’m just someone who’s finding her voice. you want to know something? that’s classic abuser behavior, pinning the blame on the victim rather than genuinely owning up to the fact that you’re envious of me and you think you can completely bury this shit and get away with it.

she’s not only breached terms of service on tumblr by leaving those rude messages in my inbox and some day i’ll have the stomach to share them with you guys (tumblr meanwhile allows opinions, hot takes, rants, whatever, no matter how controversial, because unless you weaponize them like what she does, they’re really not hurting anyone), and is going against everything about the freedom of speech, but she’s broken at least two creeds that i know of: first rule of paganism is quite literally “be yourself and do whatever you want as long as you’re not hurting anyone”. first rule of martial arts is do not fight unless you’re provoked.

look at what she’s done to me. she’s spread lies about me, more damaging lies than the one i told to stroke her ego, and isolated me. i was actually suicidal in october 2020. i was at a point earlier this year where i was questioning my gender, sexuality, even my own existence. my anxiety came back.

she has shamed me and made me cringe at myself for my own desires and what i feel. she fucking cherry-picks my words and then uses them against me just to reinforce herself (cannot think of a better time to use those red flag emojis). she has leeched so much from me and she’s hellbent on ruining me all because i have opinions different from what she believes in and because i pointed out her problematic behavior—that’s not a provocation, is it. someone’s opinion, a joke, a rant, saying you fucked up, a pic of them giving the finger because they were having a bad day anyway, whatever, is not a provocation, either: unless i genuinely went to your inbox and chewed you out to your face like what you fucking did, i never provoked you.

the problem is that you can’t handle me, can you, daveigh. you can’t handle someone who’s different from you. you despise anyone who isn’t exactly like you.

i was annoying you on anthrax’s wacken live-stream but you were way too spineless to say anything about it so you went the mean girl route instead. at least i have the balls to speak out and say something.

if anything, i’ve been way too easy on you. not even my worst bully pulled this kind of shit. he would probably look at this and say you went too far (this is the same scumbag who threatened to r*pe me, too).

if anything, YOU are the one who provoked me for shutting me out for no reason. YOU refuse to leave me alone with my own thoughts. YOU cannot take criticism or a joke or someone trying to redeem themselves. YOU are the only one persisting this beef with me because you have far too many issues to deal with and YOU are so far gone that the only thing to help you at this point is therapy and xanax. YOU seriously fucked up and YOU continue to beat the dead horse when i’m trying to make a new foundation out of those ashes.

it is classic abuser behavior, almost textbook abuser behavior.

aside from that, i’m really sick and tired of women like her, too. women who claim to always be the victim—if my ordeal with her is anything to go by, it’s that women are as capable (if not more so) as men to do some serious damage. women who believe that real women build each other up and good vibes are the only thing allowed. yes. you’re right. the women friends i’ve made have been very kind to me and are very supportive of me. there’s no meanness, or jealousy, or territorial behavior there. they don’t pull this on me because it’s gross. but good vibes are not enough, though: they only get you so far before they gloss over humanity and realness.

and women who believe that they deserve attention, love, kudos, you name it, all because they’re women with a raunchy side™️ and they—*gasp*—had someone see right through their act and call them out on it and they call it “toxic behavior”. no. what daveigh/xxgreendruidessxx is doing is bonafide toxic behavior brimming on abuse and kind of cultish behavior, too (read up on the traits of a cult, it checks out for the most part).

fic is supposed to be a safe place, isn’t it? aside from actually writing fic, instagram has been more of a safe place for me—with all its nonsense, at least i have people over there who care about me and what happens to me.

i’ll tell you this, though: ao3 certainly took notice of it because since that chapter dropped yesterday, the hit counter slowed down to a crawl. she used to get hundreds of hits, now it’s slowed down to small handfuls. i would take the amount of kudos on there with a pinch of salt, too: this fic was going during that glitch where people’s kudos numbers were inexplicably growing and it just stuck. i can only guess that her readership is getting uncomfortable with her vitriol and/or are just bored with her because i’ve made myself clear and she’s only extending it because of the length of dead man walking, but it’s hard to say: hit counters are completely anonymous and i’m not holding my breath, either.

i didn’t want any of this shit when it happened and i thought we were done with it come new year’s day 2021. i sure as fuck don’t want it now. i’m just someone who’s trying to live life as best as she can and this simpleton, this barren, insecure-in-her-sexuality, petulant, parasitic child is trying to prevent that because she never liked me but she was too cowardly to admit it straight up.

and now here she is, (allegedly, anyway) telling me to “be scared.” lol. yeah. i’m soooo scared. i’m french and belgian: we’re warriors. i’m also portuguese: we stood up to a dictator like you and threw him out. 1% of me is from the baltics: we gotta put up with fucking russia. and i also happen to be a druid: my grandma’s family name is blackwood, “dweller of the dark forest.” you think you’re all that and a bag of chips, you couldn’t say you dislike me to my fucking face in the first place, you had to wait until i said something. you can take your edgy greenery back to kindergarten because you’re done.

#i want everyone following her to read this #daveighmustaine #xxgreendruidessxx #fanfic writing #fanfic woes #fic woes #fic writing #fan wank #text #personal #i never asked for this

0 notes

pippytmi · 3 years

Note

1, 4, 14?

The one hope Kara has for her roommate is that Lena Luthor will not be a smoker.

Alex had told her not to have high expectations; after all, this roommate arrangement was all organized through Winn, and Alex has always stated that she doesn’t trust this man’s self-preservation tactics. (“Once, during an earthquake drill, he started to climb up the building. Kara, what kind of a moron does that?”)

But Kara isn’t as cynical as her sister…or quite as mean. So she trusts that Winn’s people skills are better than his survival skills, and resolves not to write off Lena by virtue of association alone. It’s expensive enough to live in National City; when Winn had promised a roommate that “probably won’t be tempted to murder anyone anytime soon,” that had honestly been a good enough draw. (That had, of course, been sandwiched in a perfectly normal explanation about Lena being the best student in their shared pre-med classes—Winn maintains that anyone pursuing med school that rigorously will be too tired to consider recreational murder on the side.)

So Kara takes her tentatively-moderate-expectations—along with a box of donuts as a gift—and makes her way to apartment 9b. This is technically her first time ever being a real roommate; her only other experience was sharing a wall with Alex during their teenage years, and occasionally during their college years when they weren’t driving each other crazy. So maybe, because she’s never had to deal with boundaries or tact with her sister, she kind of…abandons all formalities and just uses her brand new key to open the front door.

(In hindsight, she really should have knocked first.)

“Golly!” Almost immediately, Kara is jumping right back out into the hallway, and the box of donuts is falling to a tragic death on the carpet. Oh no. Oh gosh. This is more embarrassing than trying to climb up the library during an earthquake drill—

She is still sitting on the floor, dumbstruck, with maple glaze smearing on her jeans when the door opens again. Lena Luthor pokes her head out, and she is simultaneously everything Kara expected and everything she didn’t. Per Winn’s description, Lena is indeed “classically beautiful,” and she has one of those faces: slightly closed off, hesitant to emote much. And when she has clothes on, she truly does have the fashion sense of an aspiring college professor, albeit with a touch more lipstick than Kara would expect.

“Okay, maybe I’m crazy,” Lena says slowly, “but did I hear you say that out loud?”

Kara immediately lifts her head up to squint at the direction of the strange voice. Lena has very pretty green eyes, but they are exceptionally confused at the moment. “What?” she says, echoing that same perplexment in her own voice.

“I could’ve sworn you said ‘golly,’ like some kind of peasant in a Christmas Carol or something,” Lena says, as if that’s a totally normal route of conversation to take after being caught naked. She leans halfway out the door, looking down at Kara with that attractive, baffled expression on her face, and all Kara has taken from this encounter so far is that her new roommate is hot.

“I...did say that,” Kara says after a beat. “But in my defense, I was completely surprised.” As one might be walking in on anybody naked, she thinks, but doesn’t actually say out loud.

“Right.” And then Lena frowns, slightly, in a manner that makes her lipsticked mouth twist down a corner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming by today. I could have sworn your text mentioned your move in day being the third.”

Kara stretches her leg out and pretends the sole of her shoe isn’t caked in chocolate icing. “Today is the third,” she points out, and then hastily adds, “And um—I’m sorry. I should have knocked. I just didn’t know you were…”

“Showering,” Lena finishes, at the same time Kara says,

“...a nudist.”

Lena stares. And then she blinks, and then she stares some more. “What?” This time, that careful kind of confusion entirely drops, and now she’s looking at Kara like she has grown two heads. “How do you automatically jump to that?”

“Because you’re naked in the middle of the day?!” It’s pretty self-explanatory in her opinion, but Kara still gets up off the floor in order to better face her new roommate (and because it feels strangely like she is the one being judged right now). “Everyone knows that showering is a night or a morning time thing—walking around naked any other time is weird.”

“Wow,” Lena says, and she actually crosses her arms, further cementing the whole Kara-is-the-one-being-judged thing. “I can’t believe you think nudists are weird. That’s pretty ironic coming from Tiny Tim.”

“Hey, I never said I thought nudists were weird. Just, their hobbies are. Is being naked a hobby?” Kara considers delving into that discussion, but Lena is squinting at her (and Lena has a very piercing squint), so she drops the subject. “Anyway, it’s fine if you’re a nudist. I can just…start wearing sunglasses inside, or something.”

“Because my naked body is that blinding?” Lena scowls. “I don’t go out in the sun much, alright, so sue me for being pale—”

“That’s not what I meant!” Kara blurts, helpless, and she knows in that instant she’s gone entirely red in the face. “I, uh. I didn’t mean to sound judge-y. Really, I don’t care what you do in your spare time. Unless…can I ask if you smoke?”

And it is with that sheepish question that Lena’s affrontive attitude slowly begins to fade. “No,” she says, in a manner that is faintly amused. “But I’m glad that’s your priority. Seriously? Are you really just going to say you’d be fine if I spent every single waking moment in our apartment naked?”

Kara shrugs, still flushed up to the tips of her ears, and makes a valiant effort not to think about that when Lena almost-smiles she can see the indent of a possible dimple on her cheek. “Well, if that’s what you want,” Kara says. “I won’t…stare or anything, I promise.”

“That’s comforting, but I’m not a nudist.” Lena smiles, and yep—dimple—Kara is pretty much done for.

“Okay.”

“No, I mean it.” And then that smile drops as Lena suddenly reconsiders something. “Also, why do you assume it’s weird to be naked in the afternoon?”

Kara gestures vaguely with her hands to where her watch would be. “Because,” she says, “it’s weird to shower in the afternoon.”

“But what if I had been naked for another reason besides showering?” Lena apparently has the ability to raise her whole eyebrow, and it’s unfair how mesmerizing that is.

“Like…non-nudist reasons?” Kara asks, and Lena’s smile comes back in a mischievous form.

“Yes, exactly.”

“Uh,” Kara says ineloquently, and suddenly her mind is coming up with far too many scenarios that she really shouldn’t. “That would be fine. Too. I mean, I can wear earplugs with the sunglasses. Or I can just wait out here too, until you’re…done. The carpet here is pretty comfortable. Is it the same in the apartment? ‘Cause if so, I mean, the landlord really outdid himself. I’ve had carpets that aren’t half as fluffy in hotel rooms that charged way more than—”

Lena cracks the door wider, and then her gaze drifts over towards where Kara’s housewarming donut gift has landed. “Have I broken you?” she asks. “Or are you always this awkward around naked women?”

“I’m—what?” Kara sputters. “I’m completely normal around naked women. Sometimes I am also a naked women.”

“Right,” Lena says, “when you shower in the morning. Or night.”

Kara frowns. “Yes,” she says, “and that's completely normal. And not weird.”

“Noted.” Lena pulls open the door the rest of the way, then throws a dangerous sort of smirk over her shoulder. “You are Kara Danvers, right? I’d hate to have to re-do the apartment tour, so if you’ve just come to break in, I have to warn you: I’m saving for med school, so I pretty much own nothing of value.”

“Yeah, no, I’m...Kara,” Kara says, slightly bewildered, but she gathers her bag and her donut box trash and follows Lena inside; she’ll have to deal with the mess outside later. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I just forgot, with the whole…”

“It’s alright.” Lena scrunches her nose up apologetically, suddenly quite sheepish; if Kara had to pick a word, she’d call the tic adorable. “I didn’t exactly introduce myself either. Well, at least in the traditional sense.” She leads Kara into the kitchen, where there is a bottle of wine sitting on the table. “Can I make it up to you with a drink?”

And Kara doesn’t know how, exactly, she’s going to live like this—going to live with the knowledge that her new roommate apparently showers in the afternoon, and drinks a whole bottle of wine alone, and makes sexual references to people she’s known for all of twenty minutes. In other words:

“Yeah,” Kara says, nudging her glasses up her nose and delighting in the curve of Lena’s ensuing smile. “I could go for a drink.”

#this one was for: roommates + meet messy +#''okay maybe im crazy but did i just hear you say that out loud?''#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #anon idk if u will ever see this bc again: took these prompts before quarantine started lol #im going to finish them all ok just give me some time #a lot of them r hogwarts au requests and guys i dont know a single thing about harry potter #😬😬😬

696 notes · View notes

oumaheroes · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 100+ followers, you deserve it! I love your blog and writing! For the writing-promp, how about some outsider pov fruk?

Reflections

Word Count: 1690

Characters: England, France - FrUK, America, Canada

----

‘It’ll be fun!’

‘No, it won’t.’

‘Yes it will,’ America insists, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen. England’s face through the webcam is decidedly unimpressed.

‘I don’t like house parties,’ he says, but America can hear slight resignation already there in his voice and so pushes again to seal the deal.

‘Please? Come on man, it’ll be great. Right after the G20 meeting in Texas too so there’s no work to worry about; just stay one more day for it. And hey, if you don’t like it you can leave.’

England raises an eyebrow, ‘You invited me to stay withyou.’

America shrugs, unbothered, ‘Then don’t! Or, do- whatever. It’s up to you.’

England sighs and looks conflicted. America seizes the opportunity and goes in for the kill, ‘Everyone else will be there too; you don’t wanna get FOMO.’

‘I don’t get FOMO,’ England snaps, looking affronted, and America instantly knows he’s won, ‘But fine, if it means that much to you, I’ll come.’

America tries to school his face into something that doesn’t look too triumphant, ‘Awesome! Kay, so it’ll be casual, no need to dress up or be all fancy or anything.’

‘Yes yes,’ England waves a hand dismissively and shifts in his chair, ‘I know how a house party works. I do go to some, you know.’

‘Cool cool cool, just making sure.’ America can’t really picture England at the sort of house party he is thinking of, people lounging about on furniture and playing silly drinking games. But it must happen, he supposes- he’s seen England drunk in pubs before and he’s boisterous so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine him in an even more casual setting.

Suddenly, America notes the darkness of England’s surroundings and checks the clock in the bottom corner of his screen, ‘Hey, it’s getting pretty late for you over there, isn’t it? I should let you go.’

England glances at his wrist, entirely ignoring the PC he’s using, ‘Yes, I suppose so. Okay, likely I’ll see you next month then.’

‘No backsies, you said yes,’ America reminds him.

England rolls his eyes, ‘I meant that I won’t see you until then, I already said I was coming; I’ll come.’

‘Good!’ America moves his mouse to end the call, ‘See you there, old man. Try to be fun.’

‘What is that supposed to-‘

‘Bye!’

----

Canada glances about the room and nods, ‘It’s not bad.’

America reels back, ‘Not bad? Dude-‘ he gestures to the living room they’re in the doorway of and then to the pool outside, both places spilling over with nations chatting and enjoying themselves under the beat of the music, ‘-it’s more than not bad!’

It really was, in his humble opinion, probably one of his best in recent years. Nearly everyone had turned up who said they were going to and there had been a steady flow of conversation and dancing all night. America had scoped the place out every now and again, making rounds through the house to make sure there were no stragglers sitting somewhere on their own but there wasn’t a need for it- things had run smoothly without him needing to intervene and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. This is why he liked house parties, more than any other type of ‘function’. House parties had a more relaxed vibe, where no one felt the need to impress or do themselves up too much (unless you were one of the older ones, that is; it seemed that no matter what you told them they’d still arrive a bit more formally dressed than everyone else, as if they had some sort of inbuilt compulsion).

Things going so well was probably helped, too, by the fact that America had only invited friends and family. One, because inviting the entire world and putting them in one place anywhere would always result in some form of argument, but also because this was his house and he didn’t want it to get trashed, (regardless of what England had groused when he first arrived and had seen the condition of the place).

Canada shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, ‘I’ve been to better.’

America frowns, disappointed, before jostling his arm playfully when he notices the small, guilty shift of Canada’s eye, ‘Stop messing with me.’

Canada grins behind his cup and nudges him back, ‘Well, no one’s dead yet. That’s always good.’

‘Amen to that,’ America raises his glass in a toast which Canada meets and downs the rest of his drink, ‘Want a refill?’

‘Sure.’

‘Come on then, I ain’t your servant.’

Canada gives him a flat look but wordlessly follows America out of the living room and through to the kitchen. Australia’s there with Mexico, digging about in the lower cupboards for something and Denmark is showing Japan a video on his phone that’s making Japan’s eyes go almost unnaturally wide.

‘Alfred mate, what happened to those Tim Tams you promised me?’ Australia stands up from his crouch on the floor and looks at America reproachfully, ‘I feel swindled.’

America opens his mouth to speak but Canada cuts in first, ‘I hid them.’

America turns to him in confusion, ‘Why?’

‘Zea asked me to, seeing as they couldn’t come. Something about what you did to them at Christmas?’

Australia throws up his hands and scoffs, ‘Jesus fuck, when will they get over that. Where are did you put them? Come on, don’t be a dick, I promised Mexico some.’

Mexico shrugs delicately, ‘I don’t really care, to be honest. I just heard they were bad and wanted to see how bad.’

Australia looks down at her scandalised, ‘Who told you that?!’

She readjusts to sit properly on the floor, ‘People.’

‘Yeah, sorry, I’ll get them.’ Canada’s job has been carried out to the minimum requirement and America knows that he’s happy that he can now take himself out of the silly argument New Zealand and Australia have slyly pulled him into. He goes out of the kitchen, leaving his empty cup behind, and America follows him curiously through the hallway in the direction of the study.

‘What did Australia do to Zea at Christmas?’ America has missed out on England’s most recent yearly family function; he’d wanted to go surfing with Hawaii instead.

‘Don’t ask,’ Canada says tiredly, the air of an older sibling who had seen far too much. America is offended Canada hasn’t told him already. He opens his mouth to say as much when Canada goes to open the slightly ajar study door before stopping abruptly in the doorway, causing America to almost crash into him.

‘Hey, what-‘ Canada hurriedly squeezes America’s arm and tugs him sharply away in a warning for quiet, catching his eye before glancing into the room meaningfully. America peers around him into the study, wondering what he’s seen.

At first, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be looking at; it looks empty. The main study light is off, leaving the room lit only by one table lamp by the sofa that casts a warm, buttery glow about the place, softening the corners with shadows. He looks to Canada for help and Canada tilts his head in the direction of the French doors, eyebrows raised.

America follows his gaze and understands. The darkness outside has turned the glass to mirrors, reflecting the front of the old sofa that America could previously only see the back of. On it are England and France, curled up together with France’s head on England’s chest and England propped against the armrest, one knee brought up high for him to rest an elbow on. He has his other hand in France’s hair and is gently running his fingers through it, long languid strokes that feel entirely too intimate for America to process.

It’s a strange thing for him to see. He has accidentally caught England and France doing other things throughout his life but intimacy isn’t really something they display. They argue. They bicker. They fight and scream and laugh, sometimes, but they do not do this in front of other people, this gentleness. Neither of the two are what anyone could ever consider gentle, even France, for all his intentional touches and flirtations -the soft ghost of his hand on a shoulder or resting warm around a waist- are not this, not personal. France is very free with his physical affections but they are shallow things, meaningless and ordinary. There is something removed and detached about how he moves amongst crowds, gathering himself close about someone to brush against them as he stands that speaks of friendliness yes, but not closeness. Nothing special to note.

But here, curled on a sofa and unaware they are being watched, there are no guards up or cold pretences between them, just a natural, domestic openness that America finds oddly normal, for how little he has seen glimpses of it. England and France together are many things, have experienced every extreme and mundane state possible for two people to experience, and this side of them is just another shade, as hard as it is to find.

France tips his head back more and opens his eyes, crinkling their corners as he murmurs something low under the muted music that causes England’s lips to twitch into a rare, open smile. They could be anyone then, just two people on a sofa, young and mellow, and for a split-second America can’t see them as anything else. The warm mood hides their identity and blurs their age- familiar strangers tucked away on their own.

America jumps, startled, when Canada nudges him, an elbow into his side and he turns to find his brother gesturing with his head back into the hallway.

He agrees. America knows both England and France would be mortified to be caught like this, boneless and out of character around the person they often so openly despise, so it’s best to leave them as they are undisturbed.

Australia can wait, America will squeeze the truth out of Canada about Christmas and maybe take Zea’s side just for fun.

----

AN:

Sorry for the wait anon, but I hope you see this and I hope that you like! Thanks for the ask and for your kind words, this was a lovely prompt and I really liked thinking about how I could do this justice ;u;

#fruk #aph england #aph france #aph america #aph canada #hws england #hws france #hws america #hws canada #aph #hws #heroes answers #my writing #hetalia #hetalia fanfiction

189 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Few Too Many

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, In-game violence and death, Suggestive comments

Genre: Protective fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Jealousy is a dangerous thing, especially when the jealous person is armed with a gun....in a game of Counter Strike. At least Y/N’s friend will now know not to mess around and flirt with her, especially not with Corpse around.

Requested by 🐐 Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request but here it finally is! I didn’t want to make it IRL violence to avoid triggering anyone while I also felt it’d be very ooc for Corpse to beat someone up but I still hope you enjoy the fic if you come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey everyone!“ Y/N greets her squad as they all customize their characters while I sit there, observing and unknowing of what I’m supposed to do. “I invited Corpse to play with us today, hope y’all don’t mind.”

“Of course not! Nice to finally meet you, Corpse. We’ve heard a ton about you from Y/N, thanks for making our girl the happiest she’s ever been.“ One of her friends says, the tone of his voice suggesting he’s only half-joking with the dad like comment he made.

“Nice to meet you too, man. Glad I’m the one she gave the chance of making her happy. That’s all I ever wanna do.“ Though it may sound cheesy, as guys, her friends can probably read into how genuinely I mean what I’ve said.

Dating a girl with only guy friends has it’s pros and cons. Which outweigh which is still up for debate since I’m still researching, but so far so good in my opinion. This is the first time I’m interacting with them directly so I’ve still got a long way to go in terms of getting to know them and the details of their relationship with Y/N better. Regardless, I at least know they can easily understand me and put themselves in my shoes if I ever ‘mess things up’ with Y/N and she goes to complain to them - something that will most likely never happen. I’d never dare make this girl upset. Chances are, if I do, her friends won’t get to me on time - I would deliver my own punishment just the way I think I deserve it. However, there’s also the chance of them getting super protective of her and ganging up on me over something as small as a fight. By the many things and stories Y/N’s shared with me about them, I believe they wouldn’t think twice about kicking someone’s ass for her. They’re not massive dudes - I’ve seen pictures of them - but I for one don’t ever wanna see em angry.

“Ay bro, what’d you do to score our best girl? You must know what she likes. If so please, by all means, do tell.“ One of them, not the one who was previously talking, speaks up, his words making me furrow my brows in both confusion and irritation.

I open my mouth to complain as I slowly start cracking my knuckles when Y/N and her friends beat me to it. Thing is, Y/N’s friend group consists of three guys and her and yet four voices scolded the guy that made that suggestive comment. That being said, this guy probably isn’t considered to be one of her friends, at least not one that’s a permanent part of her friend group.

“Seth, cut it out!“ The guy I was previously speaking to says sharply before softening his tone to refer to me, “Sorry about my brother, excuse his lack of brain cells, please.“

Just then, I also receive a message from someone. Checking my phone, turns out it’s Y/N who by the way is currently in the living room while I’m in the recording room. Her text reads:

Y/N ~ Ignore Seth. I told Leo to not invite him but he’s still here somehow

I send her back a quick reassuring text before answering the guy I now know is named Leo, “No worries, it’s fine.”

“See? The guy can take a joke, you’re all just freaking out over nothing!“ Seth laughs, reminding me and the others of how loud he is compared to us.

Despite acting like it’s no big deal, I can’t help but admit to myself that this behavior of Seth’s has awoken a deeply buried suspicion of mine that’s not only mine but also arises in every guy whose girlfriend hangs out with a lot of guys. It’s not that I don’t trust Y/N - she could literally blindfold me and tell me to walk through a pool of lava, promising it wouldn’t hurt and I’d do it - but we all know about that saying that every guy in a group with one girl has liked said girl at least once.

Disturbing to think these four, including Seth five, dudes could’ve possibly been my competition at some point. It’s nice that they’re all super chill about it, mostly cause some of them have girlfriends as I was told.

Nevertheless, we get over that hiccup and carry on with the small talk and preparations for the game. Since it’s my first time playing CSGO, Y/N, Leo and her other friend Clancy explain the mechanics to me in detail to avoid me getting confused mid-game and getting myself killed. When they finish, we start the round and wait for the game’s algorithm to separate us into two teams which Y/N jokingly refers to as cops and robbers. Unfortunately, the end result of that separation ends up being me getting put in the terrorists’ force with Leo and Clancy while Y/N’s with the FBI, partnered with Seth and her other friend Evan.

“Alright, team, we shall now disperse. Corpse, remember, if you see more than one of them, radio in and lay low, we’ll be with you as soon as possible.“ Leo informs me as he runs off in one direction, Clancy going in the opposite. I confirm I understand and go along my way too, heading for this ancient looking structure that looks like it could belong in an old-timey movie.

Walking in, I realize the place is way bigger than it appeared on the outside. A quick look up confirms that there are three fucking floors above, not to mention that the ground floor is huge. Luckily, there are many crates and barrels to hide behind if I come across an FBI agent. I sure as hell hope it’s Y/N, I could maybe even try talking her into giving me a second chance at life and pretend she never saw me. Come to think of it though, I’d probably prefer getting killed by her rather than her friends - especially Seth.

Given that we’re in a Discord call, I can hear all the conversation going on. They are all quiet though, I can just periodically hear the mumbles of someone muttering to themselves as they navigate the map cautiously out of fear of running into their opponent unprepared. The silence is put to an end though when Seth speaks up, addressing Y/N.

“Yo, your boyfriend’s with the terrorists, ain’t he? That’s like the universe giving you a sign that y’all shouldn’t be together.“ The fucker laughs at his own joke while I can literally hear Y/N rolling her eyes.

“Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet, Seth?“ She asks sarcastically, almost getting a chuckle out of me but I suppress it to avoid getting caught listening in.

“Yeah, they both die at the end. Fucking boooriiinngg.“ Just then, I spot two silhouettes entering the building. Aiming my gun at them reveals their names - just the people I’m currently involuntarily eavesdropping on. Seth and Y/N don’t notice me though so I quickly duck behind a crate and prepare to radio in when Seth continues verbally torturing Y/N and dancing on my last nerves, “I personally think the friends-to-lovers trope is far more interesting...“

Did this guy just- no, he’s gotta be fucking kidding me

I’m left with my jaw hanging in disbelief at this guy’s audacity. I have no doubt Y/N’s about to put him in his place herself but I just gotta have my own chat with this guy. And by ‘chat’ I mean I mindlessly rush out from behind the crate towards where I saw him and Y/N and open fire on him. I hear his startled and upset screams with Y/N’s laughter in the background. She doesn’t try to stop me as a teammate of his should and would, instead she just observes the scene unfold, laughing her ass off.

“Yo man what the fuck was that for?!“ I hear Seth’s yell but only faintly since the sound of gunshots is still echoing through my headphones. Yeah, I’m not done shooting this fucker.

“Corpse...Corpse, buddy...“ Y/N manages through fits of laughter she cannot tame, “That’s a few too many bullets, he’s already dead.”

“And that was a few too many comments for him to be let off the hook.” I answer as sharply as I can with the new-formed smile on my face. What can I say, her happiness is contagious.

“Well, you got your first kill in CSGO. Good job, babe! I’m super proud of you!” She cheers for me, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Nah that was my first overkill.“ I quickly add, with a more threatening tone: “And it won’t be my last.”

“Let’s just hope there aren’t few too many of these overkills either.“ She snickers.

“That doesn’t depend on me, babe.“ I say smugly, suggestively enough for Seth to pick up the dropped hint. Mother fucker’s officially been put in his place and I couldn’t possibly be happier - with the added bonus of getting a ton of laughter out of Y/N who also decides to walk away, leaving me unharmed but promising to shoot to kill next time she sees me.

I’m ok with that. She could kill me anyday.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

293 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Text

save no matter what.

so this is going to ultimately be a post about Deku. however, if you’ll be so kind as to indulge me, I would like to start things off by making a point about Bakugou. specifically, I’d like to point out that back in the day before this kid got Character Development no Jutsu’d, people weren’t always so inclined to view his attitude towards winning in the best light. which is a nice way of saying that he came off as unhealthily obsessed, not to mention more than a little unhinged.

sorry for the image spam btw, I just think they’re funny. he’s so demented lmao. KILL DIE CRUSH.

anyway so we’re gonna do the rest of this below a cut before it gets long. but I promise it really is a Deku post lol. don’t let the pre-readmore stuff fool you. I PROMISE THERE IS A POINT, AND WE WILL GET TO IT.

anyway! so yeah, we really didn’t have the best impression of Bakugou’s whole winning fixation at the beginning there. and I mean, it’s not like we had the best impression of Bakugou himself at the start of things either. we were already primed from the very first chapter to see this kid as an adversary to Izuku. the story goes out of its way to paint him in pretty much the worst light possible. which is why what happens next is so interesting.

because one might see all this and think, “holy heck, this kid is off the shits, somebody needs to set him straight pronto and get it into his head that winning isn’t everything.” because that’s almost the natural conclusion to draw. “look at this kid, he doesn’t care about helping other people at all, all he cares about is winning, someone needs to come along and show him that he’s got it backwards.”

except that’s not what happens, is it? because this is where, much to my delight, Horikoshi came along and started subverting expectations. because not only is Katsuki not rebuked for being so obsessed with winning -- it’s pretty much the exact opposite.

the one and only time Deku ever straight up hands Katsuki’s ass to him is when he says he doesn’t want to win. Deku is IMMEDIATELY all, “THE FUCK KIND OF BULLSHIT DID I JUST HEAR OUT OF YOUR TRASH MOUTH,” and that’s when he sets him straight.

the important people in Katsuki’s life never tell him, “hey you need to cool it with the whole winning thing.” All Might and Aizawa never scold him for it, or tell him that he shouldn’t try with everything he has to win, or that wanting to win is a bad thing. on the contrary, they both commend him for it. and ultimately, he’s told by All Might that this desire is actually one of the two fundamental qualities that every great hero needs.

he completely turns the whole thing on its head. not only is it not a bad thing, it’s actually crucial. essential. because what the desire to win really is, at its core, is tenacity. it’s the fiercest kind of determination. it’s not something he should be ashamed of; it’s something that sets him apart, something that makes him worthy. he is someone who refuses to back down no matter what. refuses to give up, no matter what. and this quality, which is initially misunderstood by some to the point where even the villains mistakenly take him for one of their own in the making, is eventually validated to the fullest degree by the person that Katsuki looks up to the most. his desire to win goes from being this awkward “son wtf are you doing” thing to being one of the core philosophies of the series. and ever since then, we pretty much don’t question it.

so why do I bring this up now? well, the answer to that can basically be summed up in one word.

“parallels.”

so here’s the thing. there’s been a lot of talk lately about Deku’s ridiculous, reckless, and absurdly self-destructive desire to save others while having little to no regard for himself. currently he’s lying in a hospital bed, having broken approximately 218 out of the 206 bones in his little hero body (yes, somewhere along the way he found an additional dozen bones to break). it is worrying. it is Concerning. and it’s raised a lot of questions, such as “???” and “wtf is this idiot doing.”

and a lot of people have been pretty critical of him! this is, of course, an ongoing thing with this child, and people have been giving him grief over it going as far back as chapter 6.

while others have been bothered by it going even further back than that.

and I’ve seen these sentiments being echoed pretty frequently in the fandom as well. and there are basically two talking points that I want to address here. the first is the idea that Deku’s aggressive brand of selflessness stems from an inherent lack of self-worth. in other words, because he prioritizes other people’s safety and well-being above his own, and is willing to go to such drastic lengths to save them, there’s this feeling that he doesn’t value himself enough, that he must not care about himself.

but I don’t think that’s quite it. let’s go back to those parallels first, though. let’s take another look at Kacchan.

what I mainly want to call attention to is the intensity here. again, it’s something that at first strikes most readers as being absurdly over the top. the truth is, I think a lot of people simply can’t relate to it. Katsuki cares about winning with a ferocity and a fervor that most people, for better or worse, simply don’t have. I certainly don’t, lol.

but he does. to him it’s not a shallow, superficial thing at all. it’s important to him, perhaps the most important thing. I think we often talk about it in terms of it being a desire, but imo a more accurate way to define it is not as a want, but as a need. in other words, it’s the opposite of the question “what is it this character wants” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live without”)? instead, it’s a question of “what is it they don’t want” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live with”)?

and in Katsuki’s case, the thing he can’t live with is feeling like he hasn’t tried his absolute best. he needs to give his all in everything he does. he wants to win, but winning just on its own is not enough.

it has to be earned. he has to prove to himself and to everyone else that he deserves it. anything less than that is unacceptable. anything less than that, and he can’t be at ease. he can’t be settled. he can’t rest. and so he puts everything he has into winning, even if it means going to extremes. because it’s that important to him.

it’s something that’s at times alarming and even disturbing for others to witness. but nonetheless, it’s a part of who he is, and at the end of the day his teachers accept that, and the story acknowledges that it’s his greatest strength.

so now, to finally bring this back around to Deku, this is what I keep seeing in his character as well. only in his case, the thing he can’t live with is knowing that he didn’t do everything he possibly could to save someone. or to put it another way, Deku, at his core, is someone who cannot rest until he knows that everyone is safe. simple as that. it’s not just a desire to protect people; it’s a need. he needs to know that everyone is safe and protected. otherwise he can’t be at ease. it’s no different from how normal, everyday people aren’t able to feel at ease unless they know that they are safe and that their loved ones are safe. it’s just that in Deku’s case, this same fundamental need extends to everyone, not just himself and his friends and family. everyone. he can’t live with himself knowing that someone was in trouble, and he had the ability to do something to help, but didn’t. and so, if you literally can’t live with not doing something, you basically have no choice but to do it.

and this is what in my opinion defines Deku’s character. Kacchan, in trying to understand it, noted that Deku doesn’t seem to take himself into account. but I think OFA Prime summed it up a little more accurately. “he rages for the sake of others. for them, he does his best until he can do no more. this young man is possessed by a drive to save others that eclipses all common understanding.”

so yeah. it’s not that he doesn’t care about himself at all, it’s that he cares about others even more. he has that same intensity and ferocity towards saving people that Katsuki has towards winning. and just as it was difficult at first for fans to understand Katsuki’s feelings, it’s hard to fathom the sheer depth of that “save everyone” feeling that compels Deku to break his own body in that pursuit. it’s scary, not to mention extremely destructive and dangerous. and so really, it was almost inevitable that there would be some backlash.

but just like Katsuki’s desire to win was ultimately validated in the end, I think Deku’s desire to save others will be as well. in fact it already is being validated, for starters by the other denizens of OFA, led by Lil Bro as mentioned above. let’s go back for a moment to that same scene.

here we get a huge hint that “Deku gets taken down a notch and chewed out and scolded for his recklessness” is not, in fact, the direction that the story is going in. because in general, when the main villain starts mocking the hero and saying that they’ve done something wrong, that’s a very good sign that said hero is actually on the exact right track. like, no offense, but as far as character critiques go, AFO is probably the least qualified person in the entire manga to start offering those up lol. so yeah. if AFO is denouncing Deku for something, and OFA Prime is praising him for that exact same thing, I think it’s safe to say that means he is in fact doing something very, very right.

“okay but makeste, he nearly got himself killed and broke all of his arms AND legs and is now lying in a fucking coma,” you say, gesturing emphatically to the last page of chapter 298. “so I mean, that’s all well and good that Wonder Boy has the best of intentions and all that, but at the end of the day he’s only one kid. he literally can’t save everyone, and if he pulls one or two more stunts like this, he’s going to get himself killed.”

and okay, but this here is the other talking point that I wanted to address. because it’s true, Deku does need to learn a specific lesson here. but that lesson is NOT that he can’t save everyone. this is a superhero story, guys -- “you can’t save everyone” is never going to be the underlying message, ever. it’s the OPPOSITE of the message. Deku is the hero because he tries to save everyone. because he doesn’t give up on saving people no matter what. that is literally the core of the story. it has been since the very first chapter.

so then what is it that Deku actually needs to learn here? well, once again, it all comes back to those parallels.

btw, I really just love how he’s carrying Katsuki there lol. he’s just so done with him.

but anyway. so, the final exam arc. Katsuki initially wants to win at all costs -- but there’s a hitch. because even though he wants to win, he refuses to do so while working with Deku. enter Deku’s left hook, and one impromptu Rival Encouragement Speech later, our boy has thankfully come to his senses.

but here’s the point -- the lesson here wasn’t “you can’t always win.” rather, the lesson that Katsuki needed to learn was that you can’t always win alone.

yeah. so now you can see what I’m getting at here.

“...on your own.”

that’s the key. this is the one and only thing that Deku actually needs to get into his head. wanting to save everyone is fine! his will to save others has never been a weakness -- it’s been the most admirable thing about him from day one. it’s what makes him strong. it’s why All Might chose him. it’s why OFA has chosen him. it’s what sets him apart, and I firmly believe it’s what will ultimately help him save the day and defeat AFO as well. because what other character would look at Shigaraki Tomura, the person who just impaled his friend and destroyed an entire city, and instinctively reach out a hand to try and save him? and if you don’t think that’s going to wind up being key to the final battle, you and I have very different ideas about this series’ endgame.

Deku’s determination to save everyone isn’t arrogance or futility. it is and always has been his greatest strength. but what he’s missing now, what he needs to learn, is simply to trust. y’all might have seen that theory about the Fourth’s quirk, and why All Might was so hesitant to tell Deku about it. basically, the theory (which is based on an attempted translation of the crossed-out parts of All Might’s OFA notebook) goes that the Spidey Sense was so overwhelming that the Fourth -- whose cause of death was one of the things crossed out -- eventually couldn’t bear it, and went to live alone in the middle of the woods somewhere. and possibly wound up killing himself?? all of which is just speculation right now of course. but it makes sense. and it would certainly explain why All Might, being all too aware of Deku’s self-destructive tendencies, would keep that from him.

but if this is the case, that means it’s clear that the Fourth’s solution didn’t work. “give up and accept that you can’t save everyone” clearly is NOT the answer to be had here.

the answer is trust. trust that his fellow heroes have his back. trust that they’ll be able to help him reach the people he’s not able to reach on his own. trust that they can work together to save everyone. that he doesn’t have to rest the entire world on his shoulders alone.

it’s the one lesson that All Might, his predecessor and his teacher, never learned himself until it was too late. but of course, All Might never had a prickly and determined rival who was ready to step in and deal out some tough love if need be. a rival who, perhaps, just might soon get a chance to repay an old favor.

“I don’t wanna hear you say you can’t save someone.”

I’m just saying. just as Deku has been watching Katsuki all this time, and admiring his determination to win, and emulating it himself, so has Katsuki recently begun to emulate Deku’s determination to save others. we’ve seen it not just in his recent act of self-sacrifice, but even in little things like his habits and tricks of speech. just like Katsuki is Deku’s image of victory, Deku is becoming Katsuki’s image of saving others.

and so I’ll bet you anything that if Deku ever starts to doubt himself, or starts feeling like his dream and desires are futile, Kacchan will be there to set him straight with a good old fashioned Rival Encouragement Speech of his own. possibly with his own left hook to match, though his left shoulder is currently out of sorts atm so he might need to modify that approach a little bit. but the point is, he’ll be there. and he will not allow Deku to give up on himself. he will be there to remind him that he doesn’t have to face this alone.

so yeah! finally managed to wrap up my giant Deku meta which I’ve been working on for ages and rewritten like fifteen times lmao. just in time for this to be relevant for all of a day, probably, depending on what happens once chapter 279 drops lol. but yeah. tl;dr, local boy tries to do too much, but his heart is in the right place, and hopefully all he really needs is a good pep talk from his tsundere bff to set him to rights again. r.i.p. to the Fourth, but he’s different.

#bnha 298 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bnha meta #deku meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha

483 notes · View notes

jinned · 3 years

Text

payback’s a bliss | taehyung | m

snippet: “This is going to sound so cliché,” Taehyung starts after too many seconds of awkward silence pass between the four of you, “but this is not what it looks like.”

pairing: taehyung x female reader, seokjin x jeon soyeon from (g)-idle

genre: smut, slight angst, slight fluff

au: coworker, office, valentine’s day, strangers to lovers to friends (s2l2f)

rating: explicit/18+

word count: 9.6k

warnings: y/n and taehyung get dumped :(, seokjin and soyeon are heckin annoying, gross pda, no one does any work in this office, dirty dancing, trash talk, sabotage :)

sexual warnings: voyerism!! sex without orgasming, uncompleted sex, office sex, public sex!, protected sex, lots of hand roaming wink wink, taehyung dig bick gang, lots of makin out!, table sex, slight choking, scratching, smol strip tease, dirty talk, they both question if they really want to do this for the right reason, the sex is kinda short tbh so not much actually happens,

a/n: banner made by @kimtaehyunq!!! thank you so much maggie!! and thank you for asking me to be a part of your collab! i’ve had so much fun writing this! thank you to @feliix and @ughseoks for the endless amount of support from both of you

this is mostly unedited :( i’m sorry

this is a part of the be my bangtanvine collab! make sure to check out all of the other amazing stories!

The sharp edges of the invitation card threaten to prick through your skin as you grip it too tightly. Seokjin and Soyeon are currently skipping about the office, merrily handing out an invitation to every co-worker insight to their fabulous Valentine's Day party they'll be throwing.

"And we got it approved by the big man to host it here! Everyone must come!" Soyeon’s shrill voice echoes throughout the padded cubicles.

A groan slips past your lips before you can stop it. Normally you'd be down for office parties and festivities, you're a fun gal after all. But the idea of attending a Valentine's Day party that your ex-boyfriend is hosting with his "newer and better other half" just doesn't sound as appealing as one might think.

You desperately want to crumple the invitation in your fist and you outwardly seethe as Soyeon clutches onto Seokjin's chest as she leans into him with laughter, him naturally moving with her, chest rumbling before placing a passionate kiss on the top of her head. In a gross quirky fashion, Soyeon kicks up one of her feet, giggling with each second Seokjin’s lips are on her skin.

Her stupid gorgeous skin that glows when the sun shines through the windows.

You hate her stupid skin, the sun should burn her, not make her look like an angel descending upon this earth.

Which, she totally acts like on a daily basis, sunshine or not.

All you can do is remind yourself that you are a better person than your hostile instincts and negative thoughts want you to be.

Taking in a deep breath, you slowly exhale through your nose, lowering the invitation painstakingly slow and delicately placing it to the side of your desk. You will show no weaknesses. They will not get to you.

A loud huff of breath behind you breaks your concentration, and you turn around to see your co-worker Taehyung failing at being the better person; his jaw is clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face are twitching. His invitation is in pieces scattered across his lap and desk, some bits still stuck to his clenched fists in between his fingers. His entire body reads fire-angry and pissed off, but there's something in his eyes that tells you there's more going on deep within his mind. The way his eyes shake and glisten, it's clear as day he's just as hurt as you are about this situation.

Taehyung is one of the handful of coworkers you’ve worked beside for years but have never exchanged more than ten words with. He’s quiet, tends to his work, and keeps to himself. Even when he and Soyeon were together he shied away from the PDA and loud declarations of love. The few times you cared to spare a glance in their direction, it always seemed that Taehyung was uncomfortable having all eyes on him with a bright red face paired with fidgeting hands. It was enough to make anyone feel bad for the guy.

Glancing around, you make sure the coast is clear, (AKA: all the attention is still on Seokjin and Soyeon), and you scoot your chair across the short way to Taehyung's desk.

"Hey, Hellboy,” you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “extinguish your flames will ya?"

Taehyung's jaw relaxes as he looks at you for a moment before turning back to the mess around him. Closing his eyes, he lets out a more tender sigh, carefully picking up each piece one by one before sprinkling them into the garbage.

"Thanks," he says weakly. "I didn't realize I was expressing outwardly. Nuts isn't it?" He forces a chuckle, shaking his head as he goes back to watching the couple of the year receive their compliments and adoration from the other office sheep.

"Completely nuts." You agree, scooching closer until your chairs touch and you’re sitting side by side.

"She's acting like we weren't ever even together. Seokjin seems to be doing that to you too. It's crazy! Weren't you guys together for like three years?-"

"-Three years."

Sighing together, you both lean back into your chairs.

"Soyeon and I were together for four."

The pout in his voice breaks your heart, even more than it's already broken. That feeling alone surprises you. It's not like you're an overly compassionate person, not saying you're exactly heartless, but you and Taehyung have barely interacted. Ever. Even amongst your years and years of working together, nothing more than a simple head nod or raised coffee in acknowledgment has passed between you two. Now, you feel like you need to reach out, rub his arm comfortingly, maybe even offer to take him out on lunch where the two of you can freely be irrationally angry and bitter together. Really, it's just that if you were him, (and you basically are in this situation), you'd want someone to be there for you. Being alone in the midst of a breakup this painful just doesn't seem like a comforting option.

So, stepping out of your comfort zone, you decide to do just what you'd want someone to do for you.

"Let's get lunch together," you blurt out.

Albeit slightly confused, Taehyung smiles and kindly accepts your lunch offer.

"And then he said, 'You're a little too much to handle sometimes.' Who fucking says that!" You yell over the bustle and noise of the restaurant, voice muffled by the decent amount of food still in your mouth.

"He said that? About you?" Taehyung scoffs, throwing his fork down onto his plate and throwing his body back against the seat cushion. "You definitely don't seem like the type to be described as "too much to handle". I'm insulted on your behalf!"

"Thank! You!" You can't help but raise your voice as you throw down your fork as well, the utensil clattering against the now clean plate. "I can't believe Soyeon gave you such a stupid reason for dumping you. Who just says, 'We were too attached and I need to learn how to be my own person.' then goes around and is immediately in a super clingy relationship? I don't get it. Plus, in my own personal opinion, I wouldn’t have described you guys as too attached. I don’t think I even saw you guys kiss in public. Which makes this thing with Seokjin even more absurd!"

Expecting a fiery response, Taehyung surprises you by staying silent. His shoulders drop as he stares into his half-eaten chocolate cheesecake. The intense, angry emotions surging in your own veins quickly simmers down seeing how truly upset he looks in front of you.

"Hey," you dip your head down, trying to make eye contact, your hand naturally falling on top of one of his own, "don't worry about them. What she told you was bullshit and does not define who you are as a person. What she did was low and was clearly not the real reason she broke up with you. You seem like a great guy and she's going to have to live the rest of her life knowing she let you go." You see a faint smile finally grow on his face, making you smile in return.

"Thanks, Y/n. I wish I was as strong as you are. I wish I could just be angry and secure with myself." He sighs and leans one elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand as he breaks up pieces of his cake, not making any motions to actually eat it.

You think about what to say and how honest you want to be. You've only just really started talking with him and talking about your feelings and insecurities has never been easy for you to do. Which was exactly one of the reasons Seokjin claimed during his breakup speech.

And fuck that guy. You can be emotionally vulnerable anytime you want!

"I'm not as tough as I'm making it seem," you admit slowly, "It honestly hurts so much it feels like I can't breathe sometimes, you know? I really thought I had opened up to him, really thought I had someone who loved me truly for who I was. I thought he saw the real me. A part of me almost feels violated knowing how much he knows about me." You can't help but chuckle softly to yourself. "Don't give them the power to determine your self-worth, okay? We'll get through this together. You're stuck with me now!"

Taehyung looks up and smiles warmly at you. Genuinely, you believe that you'll be able to make it through this. And it doesn't hurt having someone else here to understand what you're going through.

Finally going back to eating his cake, Taehyung thinks thoughtfully for a moment, his head tilted in a curious fashion.

"Do you think-," he starts but pauses, scrunching up his mouth to one side as he ponders over what to say. Sighing and looking down once again, he softly says, "Do you think they cheated on us?"

It's a sentence that instantly gives you chills, freezing you in place for a moment because no, you didn't think that, the thought never occurred to you in the first place. Despite how mad you were at Seokjin, he didn't seem like the type to cheat. Now that the thought is in your head, you can't help but rethink situations you may have looked over.

Like the late nights leading up to the breakup, Seokjin stepping out of the room when he got phone calls- something he never used to do before. These things were out of character- yes. But you didn't think twice about it because it just seemed like something everyone did in the midst of a rough patch in a relationship.

Or maybe your subconscious just couldn't handle it at the time.

"She acted differently...in the end. I just wasn't sure if you knew or not."

"No," you shake your head, "the thought honestly never crossed my mind. But now that you mention it, he acted differently in the end too."

For a good, heart-bursting moment, you both sit there and silence and you let yourself feel truly sad about your breakup for the first time. You're not sure what's worse: the blinding anger or the heart-wrenching poignancy.

"This is stupid!" Taehyung finally breaks the silence, his fists firmly planting onto the table as he stands. "We didn't do anything wrong! Why are we the ones who have to be sad and cry into delicious cheesecake? They should be the ones crying into a creamy dessert!"

You can't help but laugh. And once you start, it's hard to stop. The entire situation still doesn't feel real to you, so what else can you do except clutch at your ribs as all the air in your body is used to laugh? Taehyung laughs with you, sitting back down and scooping up the remaining bites of his cheesecake.

"It really is dumb." You finally manage to choke out the words, the laughter slowly dying out between you two. "I wish there was some way to make them feel what we're feeling right now."

Mouth full of food, Taehyung offers a muddled: "Isn’t revenge...ya know...bad?"

Reaching for a napkin, you pause and stare at the lines in the fabric, an idea sparking in your mind. Slowly sliding the napkin over to your new friend, you decide to continue to be bold today and think out loud.

"What if we went to that Valentine's Day party they're hosting?"

Gasping on instinct, Taehyung accidentally inhales part of his cake, spiraling him into a coughing fit. "You want to what? I thought we agreed it would be a terrible idea!"

Smiling devilishly, you wait for Taehyung to notice the mischief in your eyes, wait for him to see that you wouldn't just simply be attending.

"What have you got planned?" He asks carefully.

"Let's go...together." Quirking up one of your shoulders, you play with your fork, spinning the utensil slowly against the point of your finger. It was hard trying to appear so casual, mysterious, and nonchalant when all you wanted to do was shout out your idea.

"I'm honestly such a bad guesser and I'm way too intrigued, but at the same time I'm not stupid enough to fall for the casual 'let's go together' so please tell me what you have brewing in that devilish mind of yours, Y/n, please I'm DYING!"

Taehyung's flair for the dramatics will definitely make this idea of yours even more pleasurable.

Dropping the fork, you look around the restaurant before leaning in, beckoning Taehyung to do the same until you can see the tiny flakes of freckles painted across his cheekbones.

"Okay. So, here's the plan..."

The next few days go by so fast it's been hard to enjoy the festivities.

And by festivities, you mean the fun going on between you and Taehyung.

The office has become so much more enjoyable having Taehyung in your life. Every day you come into work wearing one of his sports jackets, graciously draping it on the back of your chair after he politely pulls out your seat for you. And every day, after pushing in your chair, Taehyung leaves you a quick, yet passionate kiss on the top of your head, to which you always end up looking up at him with pure joy.

It didn't take long for you two to become the talk of the office.

Like a wave of wildfire, everyone began wondering just when you and Taehyung got together, if it was serious, a playful situation, just how far things have gone. You never paid much attention to office gossip before, but you never would have dreamed it was as juicy as this. Being in the spotlight was never your thing, but this was completely different. It felt different at least. Speaking of, you were usually the type of person to shy away from being the center of attention or the talk of the town. You liked that, in this instance, this spotlight was controlled by you and aimed at you just the way you wanted it. Walking around the office with a new wave of confidence felt empowering. Seeing Seokjin's jaw drop to the floor when he saw you, even more delicious.

It's true. Along with the new relationship, you switched up your wardrobe as well. Oh, and getting a new haircut after a million years of avoiding the salon definitely gives you that extra umph that you needed. And, let’s face it, moving on after being mercilessly dumped isn’t official until you do something different with your hair.

"You look..." Taehyung whistles as he not so discreetly eyes you up and down, biting his bottom lip as he does so. "Amazing." Very quickly you see some heads pop out from their cubicles out of your peripheral vision. It makes your smile all the more genuine.

Acting like you think the two of you are all alone in the office lobby, you giggle and lean into Taehyung. "Thank you for buying this outfit for me. It fits me in all the right places." You wink and pull at his tie slightly, turning around and walking away with it slipping through your fingers.

All of the heads quickly return to their computer screens, pretending to not have heard or seen a single thing.

It’s almost too easy.

Seokjin's cubicle is near the front of the lobby with yours and Taehyungs near the middle of the floorplan. Without a doubt, Seokjin's head had to have been one of the ones who was watching you just now.

Gliding across the floor with Taehyung quickly following behind you, your heels click delightfully against the tile floor. In a split minute decision, instead of trying to discreetly glance into Seokjin's cubicle, you decide to turn back towards Taehyung and reach for his hand, giggling all along the way.

Taehyung grasps your hand in his, the other hand pocketed in his tightly fit slacks. You weren't the only one with the wardrobe upgrade. If you're being completely honest, he won the makeover competition.

Your partner retired the contacts and went for a classy chic pair of black glasses that fit his facial frame so well, he could be the poster boy for all eye doctors across the nation. He made you want to have poor eyesight so you could sport some fancy eyewear. The two of you also found some new hair product for him and found that curling those chestnut locks made him go from Average Joe to chiseled supermodel. It still baffles you that this was the same Taehyung who's sat behind you for all these years.

Throwing out the cheap button up collared shirts, Taehyung now sports some fancy looking sweaters, sporks jackets, and silk button-ups. He looks like a million bucks and ever since the makeover he's been getting the attention from strangers from all sorts of people, rightfully so. You’ve also gotten your fair share of head turns and whistles from folks on the street and each one only adds more fuel to your steps.

It's been a confidence boost for the both of you, to say the least.

Once you're near your own office spaces, Taehyung holds onto your fingers instead of letting you go, pulling you quickly back into him so fast that your hand automatically flutters against the swell of his chest.

"I'll miss you," he mutters softly for only you to hear, kissing your knuckles before guiding you to your chair to do his usual routine. Chills dance across your skin as your mind panics for a moment, briefly forgetting that this is all for show.

"I'll miss you more," you recover with a purr. Then, for good measure, ditching the nervousness echoing in the back of your mind, you let out a louder Shhh! noise, resulting in immediate whispers surrounding your not so private cubicle space. You let your finger linger over Taehyung’s lips before sashaying to your desk, leaving him standing in the middle of the hallway staring after you.

This was going all too smoothly.

Throughout the days you and Taehyung manage to find ample time to grossly flirt with one another. One of your favorite hobbies now was deciding where exactly you wanted to meet up and get a little frisky.

Your favorite spot by far is easily the copy room, however cliché it may be. Having Taehyung pressed up against your body as his lips roam your neck, your back either against the copy machine itself or the counter just adjacent to it, it was all too much fun.

Like today, for instance, things might have gotten out of hand.

Taehyung's hands roam your body from your hips all the way up to your shoulders as he murmurs things too quietly for you to even understand. Well, let’s be honest, it’s definitely not necessarily because they were too quiet, but because you were so distracted by just how electrifying his touch feels. It never meant to be this serious. A touch here, a kiss there, outward flirting and such. But now you're starting to think it's becoming more of a game between the two of you instead of an office game you set up to make your ex's jealous. Technically, you didn't need to start this game so early before the party: it's only a week away now. You were way too eager to put your plan into action, and that meant sacrificing the workplace and those that worked around you.

You don't even remember why you were in the copy room to begin with. Usually, you try to plan it so either Seokjin or Soyeon walk in. Lately, it's been everyone but.

Your breath becomes heavier as Taehyung's tongue swipes up along the backside of your ear, a little spot he quickly found brings out some not so innocent sounds from you.

Wanting so desperately to enjoy the attention your body is getting, you can't help but fight against the bliss. You're losing sight of the plan ahead. And you can't help but notice just how naturally you're responding to Taehyung's antics.

"Taehyung!" You gasp, glancing at the clock above his head, not realizing just how hot and heavy it was getting between you two. "I think we need to cool it a little bit. We've been in here for fifteen minutes now and no one has even come close to this room."

He chuckles under his breath, a slow, deep raspy sound that hums like a string quartet on a fine and breezy summer day. "Sorry. Seems I got carried away."

Without hesitation, he backs away from you and you can't deny that your first thought is how much you want him back up against you.

"I'm thinking we came on too strong. Now everyone is afraid of being around us." Taehyung ponders outwardly, a finger slowly tapping against his chin. How the hell is he able to be so sexy and passionate one minute and easily go back to acting like nothing happened?

Gulping, you clutch your arms to your chest, suddenly feeling cold without Taehyung’s warmth. “What do we do now?”

“I guess we can get back to work, there’s plenty of time for more shenanigans later.” He winks and walks out of the room wondering just when he became so carefree and confident.

A spur of the moment shopping spree sprung at you and Taehyung the night before the Valentine's Day party at the most opportune of times. After all the scheming and planning, the one thing you forgot to plan for was what you would be wearing for the event which blossomed said scheming and planning. Even when you both upgraded your wardrobe before, it was all simple business casual outfits, not a night out attire.

Taehyung calls you in a panic, words blurring together through the phone as you try to make out what he's trying to say. Eventually, you're able to put two and two together.

"Holy shit we forgot our party outfits." You exclaim dumbfoundedly.

So, that's how you got here. Sprinting down isles with your hands out batting against the edges of the clothes. Some of the fabrics feel soft against your fingertips as the wind blows through your hair. As you look over to Taehyung, you can't help but to smile, not even noticing the gross feeling of old velvet pants going against the groove of your fingertips. Any other day, your body would have recoiled in disgust. But somehow, staring into Taehyung's earthy brown eyes, it's all become manageable.

As the night continues and fashion show after fashion show occurs, you start to think about how you look at and feel around Taehyung. He's doing everything he can to stay positive in this terrible situation you've both been thrown into, and yet, you find yourself comforted in his presence. While comforting is the best word to describe it, it's also starting to become confusing. Are you starting to look at him romantically? Is he thinking the same about you? It's definitely not an appropriate time for you to jump back into a relationship. Come to think of it, you barely know much about the guy other than what you two share in relationship baggage.

The rest of the night you seem to move in slow motion, caught up in your thoughts and not really feeling present in the moment. You catch Taehyung sneaking glances at you and it seems he's trying extra hard to be funny with all the ridiculous outfits he's put together.

"How about this!" He jumps out of the dressing room with arms wide open; a bright green feathered boa, red and yellow vertical striped pants, and a shirt that definitely could have belonged to a middle-aged man who loved to go fishing every weekend. There's a certain disconnection you feel with yourself even though it feels like you should be happy.

"You didn't even try to smile," Taehyung’s entire demeaning softens instantly. He walks towards the cushion you're sitting on and joins you, his shoulder lightly bumping against yours, "what's on your mind?"

Not exactly ready to admit your confused feelings about him, if they’re even feelings there at all, you decide to talk about the other thing that’s been disturbing your thoughts: Seokjin.

“I just wish it were easier, you know? Moving on?”

Taehyung huffs and juts out his bottom lip, quickly coming to your rescue by wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You let him consul you, lowering your head onto his chest as he rubs comforting circles on the side of your arm.

“It’s okay. I’ve been having a hard time getting over Soyeon too. It seems that no matter how hard I try my mind always drifts back to her. I still don’t really understand how she could just jump into a relationship with Seokjin and be in love so quickly. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you think they could be faking too? Like us?” The thought honestly makes your stomach turn and twist into all sorts of complicated knots. Why would you and Taehyung get dumped only for them to rub it in your face on purpose?

“I’m not sure,” Taehyung sighs, “I honestly wouldn’t put it past Soyeon to do it. There were more than a handful of times when we’d be around a bunch of people and she’d be all over me, couldn’t leave my side. Then, when we’d get home, she’d want her space and do her own thing. Super weird. I think she just needs everyone to see how loved she is. I don’t know. She has her own insecurities she still needs to deal with.”

Nodding your head into Taehyung’s chest, you also reflect on the way Seokjin treated you when you were in front of other people vs. how he treated you at home. And you can’t really think of an obvious difference. He was an amazing boyfriend who just couldn’t seem to fully commit to you.

“Sometimes it’s nice to think that they want to see us upset, doesn’t it?” Taehyung smiles and pats your head, standing up and offering a hand out to you. “Kinda shows us that we mean a whole lot more to them than they’re willing to admit. C’mon. Let’s find you a killer outfit and show Seokjin exactly what he’s missing.”

“Taehyung. Has anyone ever told you that you could have a future in fashion design?”

You keep staring at yourself in the mirror, looking at every angle possible of the attire you have on. Taehyung picked out everything himself, more than proving that his taste is far beyond more exquisite than all of your project runway knowledge combined. Right away in the store, he commands that blue is the only color he wants to see you in, none of that typical pink or red Valentine’s Day bullshit. “We need to stand out in all the best and worst of ways. Plus, blue is one thousand percent your color.” He had said to you, reassuring you along the way that he’ll find something for you both to match in.s

And he was a thousand percent right. Blue is most definitely your color. The way it brings out the natural highlights in your hair and even that small spark in your eyes, you’ve never been so confident with just a shade before.

The style of the dress itself is something you would expect to see in an over the top beauty pageant with just enough elegance to make it red carpet-worthy; pools of tool and fabric cascade down your legs, a long slit going up until your mid-thigh. The top half of the dress is strapless and slightly exposing the best of what you have to offer. You protested heavily on the attire in the store, it needed more than a little TLC with some rips and tears in the squirt and some stains on the front. But Taehyung had insisted and told you he had a plan in mind.

In less than two hours Taehyung had successfully stitched and sewed his way to a beautiful masterpiece. You couldn’t even tell this was the same dress he had picked out in the thrift store.

Fondly, he smiles at you as he looks at what he’s created, a hint of shyness overtaking him as he softly admits that his mother and older sister would make their own clothes to save some money. Naturally, Taehyung picked up on what they had learned and actively partook in it as well.

“One year, for my mother’s birthday, my sister and I both worked on this really grand dress. It took us nearly two months to make. I used to be made fun of for this stuff, but nothing feels as good as seeing someone’s face light up when they put on something you’ve made. It’s the same face you have on right now actually.”

You turn and smile back at him, feeling a sense of comfort between the two of you. The warmth from his words is something you’re not quite used to; your connection seems to run deeper than you were ultimately expecting it to be. And you like the feeling of it.

“I’ll kick anyone’s ass if they make fun of you,” you say boldly, hands on your hips for emphasis.

Taehyung throws a pillow at your back, the both of you laughing like high school best friends.

Pacing back and forth in your driveway, you can’t help but think you might have been stood up. Taehyung said he would be at your apartment a good hour or two before the party so you could help each other get ready and hyped.

You are definitely not ready. You are definitely not hyped.

Glancing at the clock on your phone only makes you more anxious as you fight the urge to call him for the fourteenth time. The party has started by now.

This didn’t seem in character for Taehyung. Unless, you dreadfully think, you said something that offended him. Maybe he caught a whiff of your little crush on him. Or maybe he just couldn’t bear to see Soyeon on such a romantic holiday night. Your thoughts are spiraling out of control, you take off your heels in a defeated huff, tempting the idea of shucking them into the neighbor's shrubs.

You take a seat on the front porch, heels still in one hand, and laugh to yourself. This is what you get, huh? You wanted revenge and karma did not feel like taking its time in giving you exactly what you deserve.

Thoughts of Seokjin and Soyeon slow dancing under paper hearts spinning on a string from the ceiling leaves you feeling emptier than ever before.

As a large teardrop drips down your cheek, a car turns into your driveway.

“Y/n?” Taehyung slams his door shut and rushes over to you. He’s wearing his blue suit, the one he picked out to match yours. His hair is styled so that part of his forehead is showing. Emotions overtake you and the tears flow more consistently before you’re able to even attempt to compose yourself.

“What’s wrong? Oh, Y/n what’s wrong?” Taehyung sits next to you and pulls your head to his chest, wrapping one arm around the back of your shoulders while the other one wraps around the front of your body. You clutch your hands to your face, embarrassed beyond belief that you’re sobbing on your front porch on Valentine’s Day to your fake date of the night.

You think about mentioning Seokjin and Soyeon, or the fact that you really don’t want to go to this party anymore. Instead, what comes out is, “I thought you weren’t going to show up!”

Pushing you back so he can see your face, Taehyung takes your hands gently, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles while he looks into your eyes. “I could never leave you behind.”

It feels like your heart plummets down a ten-story building and you want to melt into him.

Continuing before you can get ahead of yourself, Taehyung says, “Did my texts not go through? I said we got the time mixed up. The party starts at eight, not seven. I also stopped by to get you this-” He looks around at the ground beside him for a moment, then motions for you to hold on while he trots over to his car.

“Close your eyes!” He yells while laughing. You wipe your eyes one last time before placing your hands over them.

You hear his footsteps on the pavement as he gets closer. It’s probably some flowers, a corsage even.

There’s movement on the top of your head and you flinch, nearly opening your eyes before being stopped by Taehyung. “It’s just me, hold on.” He places something on your head, adjusting it and fixing your hair.

“Perfect!” He steps back. “Go ahead. Open your eyes.”

Slowly, you remove your hands from your face and look around. Taehyung is standing in front of you holding a small compact mirror. Leaning forward, you look until you can see your reflection and the small tiara on your head.

“I saw it on my way over here in some small shop window. I just had to get it for you. It really brings your whole outfit together!” Taehyung’s smile is big and warm, rendering you speechless.

“No need to thank me!” Taehyung puts the compact mirror in his pant pocket, reaching for you to pull you up. “Seeing everyone’s reaction to how amazing you look is all the thanks I need.”

He walks you to the passenger side of his car and opens the door for you, assisting with your dress to make sure not a single string of fabric gets caught.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you whisper just before he closes the door. There’s a shine behind his eyes as he nods his head softly, his smile still not wavering.

A nice intense pep talk goes down in Taehyung’s car before you’re both able to walk up to the office hand in hand. You had thought you would be the shaking mess of nerves, but instead, it’s Taehyung’s hand that clutches yours tightly, a slight murmur disrupting his cool demeanor.

All of the office desks have been pushed against one wall with cupid cutouts and (as you predicted earlier) paper hearts hanging from the ceiling. A red light is cast throughout the room giving it a nice sultry feel as light music plays over the speakers. You never realized just how big this floor is. Easily seventy or so people could fit in here for a party. Instead, there’s only about twenty of you.

Everything looked so magical, and yet, it felt oddly prom-like.

You and Taehyung were fashionably late, so as soon as the front door opened with a loud sha-shunk sound, all eyes were on you two.

“Game on.” You smirk, feeling as ready as ever.

“Taehyung! Y/n!” Soyeon’s usual peppy voice wavers over the music. “You’re here!”

The crowd parts slightly, leaving a space so Seokjin and Soyeon could greet you at the front door.

“Oh, we just couldn’t miss the party of the century!” You laugh, clinging to Taehyung’s upper arm.

“The chance to show off this beautiful lady? Wouldn’t pass that up for anything!” Taehyung is saying this in response to Soyeon, but his eyes are only on you. He gives you a wink for good measure, leaning in slightly until the tips of your noses touch.

“Yeah, like anyone would describe Y/n as a party person,” Seokjin quips. Your eyes narrow, looking over to your ex for the first time.

You can’t deny how great he looks in his pastel pink suit that perfectly matches Soyeon’s party dress. It accents every curve of his muscles in his arms, his suit jacket practically draping on his wide shoulders.

This might be harder than you were expecting.

“You never really were the type of person to think on their feet, huh, Seokjin?” You chuckle knowing that he really was trying to hurt your feelings in front of everyone. Seokjin glowers at you, his lips a fine, thin line.

Soyeon looks like she wants to say something, but instead grabs Seokjin’s elbow and turns him around, heading back to the middle of the dance floor.

Without looking, you and Taehyung give each other a satisfactory low-five.

“So, snacks? Or dance floor?” Taehyung asks.

“Oh, definitely snacks. I see a bowl of chips calling my name!” You not so graciously speed walk over to said bowl and pick it up, cradling it the same way one would a newborn baby.

Taehyung picks up a large pink cupcake and runs his finger around the frosting, sucking on the digit slowly as he observes the crowd before him.

Soyeon is bent forward slightly, wiggling her butt against Seokjin’s lower regions. The co-workers around them cheer, raising their glasses as they continue to jump to the music. Seokjin doesn’t even look slightly embarrassed.

“You know, if I would have even dropped low like that to pick up a can of soup or something that fell on the floor, he’d hide his face in shame,” you say with a mouthful of chips.

Taehyung scoffs, shoving the remainder of the cupcake into his mouth. “Ehdgeeut.”

“I bet we could out dance them,” you say more confidently than you actually feel. Without waiting for Taehyung’s response, you grab his greasy cupcake hand and drag him to the dance floor.

Relaxing as much as you can, you try to empty your mind of all fears and anxieties and mimic what you’ve seen in movies and music videos, using Taehyung more as a prop than an actual dance partner.

At first, no one notices you two. But as more co-workers break to grab refreshments, they come back and form a crowd around you two instead of mindlessly migrating back to Seokjin and Soyeon.

And eventually, that left the pair without an audience to flaunt their love in front of.

Taehyung is getting more and more into the movements, and you bet he’s also blocking out the nerves like you are. It’s beautiful watching him smile and enjoy himself, not even noticing the people around him. It definitely helps you feel more comfortable in the spotlight as well.

Pulling you closer, Taehyung lifts up one of your legs and hooks it as his hip, one of his hands roaming up your thigh. Your heart races as his face gets closer to your own, both your foreheads connecting and it feels like you’re breathing the same air.

At this point, you know Seokjin and Soyeon are watching you.

The song ends right as Taehyung pulls you closer and kisses you. It isn’t like any of the fake kisses you’ve exchanged in the office previously. This one is laced with something sweet and spicy, a want you can’t even begin to explain.

And you don’t want to stop kissing him. You don’t want this feeling to end.

“Get a room!” Someone yells from the back, the crowd erupting into laughter as some shield their eyes away from you.

“Maybe we will!” Taehyung yells, grabbing your hand and running with you out of the room and into one of the office hallways.

And as you run, you see Seokjin’s wide, regretful eyes, his shoulders sagging into his suit jacket.

Quite the victory if you’ve ever seen one.

Giggles and shuffling feet is all you can hear throughout the hallway. The cool breeze is barely noticeable against the warm touches from Taehyung's hands around your body. Each time his skin presses against yours, it leaves a ripple of warmth throughout your body, so much so that it feels like you'll never be cold again.

Your hands grasp the edges of his suit firmly as you momentarily take control, pushing him carefully against the wall so you can kiss him again. Taehyung smiles into the kiss, chuckling deep from his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. His lips are soft and familiar now and it's become a little too easy to get lost in them.

At times like this, you forget this is supposed to be pretend.

Pushing those thoughts away, you continue to dive in.

These kisses start to feel different than the ones from before. Originally, they were nothing more than quick pecks, not even five seconds long at their most intense. Now, they're slow, both of your lips molding together in slow motion, giving you plenty of time to let your hands roam with minds of their own. Your bodies start to connect like puzzle pieces, like the way your hip naturally leans into his or the way your chest rises up flush against his own. Every time Taehyung's tongue barely sneaks past the edges of his mouth sends a warm chill that blooms deep in your chest, rippling until you feel it in the tips of your fingers. You almost want to sigh in relief the way one would sigh when sinking into a nice warm bath after a long day.

Seokjin never kissed you like this.

Slow and steady turns into fast and furious. All of a sudden what you're getting is just not enough. Taehyung pulls at the fabric of your dress, guiding you away from the wall so he can lead you into one of the conference rooms, the very conference room Seokjin and Soyeon will be coming up to in order to exchange Valentine's Day gifts.

You can't help but wonder if this was done on purpose.

Maybe it's an extreme coincidence that this conference room just so happens to be the closest one for you guys to tumble into.

Once you're past the threshold, Taehyung's in control. He breaks apart the kiss and turns you around, lightly pushing against the small of your back until the front of your body can't go any further: you're now flushed against the conference table. His hands find your hips, moving up and down for a moment, hesitating before boldly moving up to your breasts.

"Is this okay?" He murmurs with a kiss on the back of your neck, just under your ear as he massages your chest.

It's never felt more okay. Your mind is turning into white static with the built-up attraction.

"Oh yeah, this is okay." Chuckling, you let your eyes flutter shut, somehow making the experience even more enjoyable this way.

Wasting no time, Taehyung shucks off his suit jacket in one clean motion, tossing it aside carelessly and diving back into your lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you moan against his lips, indicating to his shirt, “off.”

Chuckling, Taehyung breaks away and slowly starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Are you punishing me now?” You laugh, already missing the feeling of him on your skin.

“I can go slower than this,” he plays, the tip of his tongue poking past the side of his lips. Normally you wouldn’t mind a little strip tease or the build of anticipation. But right now, you’re anxious to get him inside of you.

Sauntering over, Taehyung is only halfway down his shirt when he’s close enough for you to grab.

And so you do.

You take his tie into your fist and pull him close, his face now inches from yours. Taehyung’s breathing is heavy, his chest moving up and down almost as quick as your heart is beating.

You move in like you’re about to kiss him, but stop short just as your lips barely brush against his.

“I don’t play games,” you whisper, showing your teeth as you smile.

“Funny,” Taehyung murmurs back, grabbing onto your hips and flipping you around until your ass is flushed against his crotch area, his tie still laced between your fingers, “Didn’t seem that way when you asked me to play along with your little scheme.”

All you can manage is a soft sigh, allowing yourself to relax against his body and letting his tie slip past your fingers.

This is all a game, you remind yourself. Or, at least, it started out as one.

Taehyung unzips the back of your dress, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. If there is a world record for the most amount of times a person has shuddered with chills in the span of ten minutes, well, you would have beaten that record by a mile.

And although you enjoy each kiss and each touch, it’s all going far too slow.

Using what goods you have in the back, you push out with enough force to back Taehyung a step. It was just enough for you to be able to spin around to face him and drop your dress to your feet.

“Wow,” Taehyung gasps, “you are absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you raise an eyebrow confidently, “I showed you mine, now show me yours.”

Without question, Taehyung moves to undo his belt, still moving rather slowly as he unbuttons his pants.

Your eyes follow his hands as they move back up his legs. Eyeing his frontal area, you’re surprised to see that he isn’t hard yet.

You try not to show your disappointment, but Taehyung notices right away.

Bashfully, he grips the back of his neck with one hand, looking down and apologizing. “I’m just kind of nervous is all.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! I was just a little surprised! If you’re not ready we don’t have to do anything.” It suddenly feels very cold in this room.

Taehyung smiles again, this time more innocently than before, “I want to. Trust me.”

Closing the distance between you two, you kiss him on the lips slowly, waiting for him to take the lead.

It doesn’t take him nearly as long as you had anticipated.

Taehyung’s mouth moves feverishly against yours, that fire instantly igniting back between your two bodies. His hand grips the side of your neck gently, his thumb resting just behind your jawline. It isn’t until your fingernails trail the edge of his spine that his grip hardens slightly, taking your breath away.

Taehyung’s free hand moves to your back to unclasp your bra, doing so in an impressive one try. His hand is instantly on one of your breasts, massaging it roughly.

That is all the touch you need before you’re ready for him.

Your thumb slips past the hem of his boxers, pulling them down and away from his skin. Taehyung steps out of them now completely naked before you. As you continue to kiss, you can’t help but chance a peek at what he has lying below.

And what he has does not disappoint.

“Wow!” You gasp, “Soyeon left you for Seokjin? No wonder she seems more high strung than usual.”

Laughing, Taehyung stops his ministrations and rests his head on your shoulder in embarrassment.

“And then you,” he returns, “Soyeon may be pretty, but she’s also flatter than a piece of cardboard. You?” He whistles and manages to bring his head back up, eyeing you up and down while biting his bottom lip.

“He’s stupid,” Taehyung concludes.

“And she’s an idiot.” You smile.

“Enough about them,” Taehyung takes both of his hands and grasps your panties. With one swift motion, he rips the fabric in two and is moving you back to the table, back to the original position you were in, “this is about us.”

In his hand, Taehyung shows a condom he must have pulled out of his pocket before. You honestly don’t remember seeing him do it, but you nod your head quickly up and down. Taking it between his teeth, Taehyung rips the fabric and promptly places the condom on the tip of his cock, unrolling it carefully. Your thighs tingle with anticipation, your vagina yearning to be filled by him.

Spreading your legs out so that your feet rest on the tops of the neighboring chairs, you nod your head once more for Taehyung.

Slowly, he inches the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Taehyung’s arms are placed on either side of your hips and you use his stance to grip his biceps, holding on for dear life as you try to mentally prepare for the massiveness that’s about to enter your body.

Taehyung guides his cock up and down your folds just once before diving right in.

The stretch is absolutely delicious, immediately your eyes roll back with bliss. He’s only able to get inside of you a quarter of the way before he slides back out, repeating the process until he’s able to inch further and further. For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to bottom out in you. But if you’ve learned anything from this time you’ve spent with Taehyung, it’s that this man is determined.

One final thrust and it feels like he’s pushing straight through your G-spot.

You’re out of breath as you cling to him more aggressively, not able to even comprehend what it would feel like for him to pound into you with everything he’s got.

Taehyung searches for your mouth, planting a long, deep kiss on your lips as he slowly starts to rock his hips back and forth. There’s a tense hunger from his lips that you try to match, but the pleasure you’re feeling down below is distracting your every thought.

After a few moments pass and the strong build-up, you initially felt seems to simmer out.

Despite the intense need for one another, there's something between you and Taehyung that's different than what you had with Seokjin: spark.

The thought hits you. Hard. So much so that it stuns you into a motionless blob. In retrospect, it isn't even that big of a revelation, but it's enough to put some ease on your mind.

"Y/n. Are you okay?" Tentatively, Taehyung stops for a moment and makes sure to meet your eyes.

Opening your mouth to respond, instead of words an eruption of laughter takes over you growing gradually until your entire body shakes with it. You clasp your hands over your mouth to try to contain it, but it only seems to worsen the giggles.

"I'm so sorry, Taehyung," you finally manage, "I just realized— I don't think…” you take a deep breath, ignoring the screaming voice in your head telling you to shut up, “I don’t think I like you in this way."

There's a moment where Taehyung and you both look down at where your body's currently intertwined and for a second you're afraid that you've possibly hurt his feelings.

He inhales slowly, releasing the air quickly soon after with an 'ahhh' sound. "Oh thank goodness! I wasn't sure if it was just me, but I started to realize the same thing about two minutes ago."

Laughter bubbles from your throat naturally, your lips vibrating as you try to hold it in. But, it’s no use. Taehyung sees you laughing and he can’t help but do the same.

“We should probably get out of here before we make an even bigger fool of ourselves. We can get Chinese? Hang out at my place and talk and watch a movie? I feel like we should talk.”

You’re about to verbally agree when a blinding light interrupts your thoughts.

“Oh my god!” A squeaky voice trills by the doorway, echoing throughout the room.

You and Taehyung freeze in place; he hasn’t even had the chance to remove his cock from your pussy.

The intense feeling of drowning consumes you as your vision finally comes to focus. At the doorway are Seokjin and Soyeon.

“Y/N?” Seokjin’s voice cracks in disbelief at the sight in front of him.

Panic sets in. How stupid was this idea? Who thought you should go to a work party, strip naked, and start having sex with one of your coworkers on the table in one of the conference rooms?

If it were just Seokjin and Soyeon, your embarrassment would still be there, but at a much more containable and manageable amount.

The entire office staff on the other hand...you were not prepared for that.

“Everyone leave!” Seokjin yells, turning his back to you and ushering the other coworkers away. As he’s doing so, Taehyung slips out of you, running over to where your clothes were discarded and throwing them at you with haste as he rushes to dress the lower half of himself.

Your arms feel numb as you pull your dress over your head, not even bothering with your bra or panties.

Seokjin returns and closes the door. Soyeon is covering her eyes, her back turned to you and Taehyung slightly as she’s muttering something to herself. Her perfect black hair cascades into a perfect curtain to shield her eyes from your nakedness.

“This is going to sound so cliche,” Taehyung starts after too many seconds of awkward silence pass between the four of you, “but this is not what it looks like.”

Soyeon makes an abundance of gibberish sounds with an aghast look on her face before finally blurting out, “Look like what? Like you weren’t caught having sex with each other?! Jesus, Taehyung! We knew you guys were all over each other but I thought you had enough decency to keep that stuff in the bedroom!” She puts her palms out towards you both and shakes them before turning away once again with her head down, shaking it in disbelief.

“That’s the thing! It’s complicated!” You shout, desperately trying to zip up the back of your dress by yourself.

“Were you or were you not just having sex?” Seokjin says sternly, looking directly at you like a disappointed father. You give up the fight with the zipper and sit down in one of the chairs behind you. It’s you he wants the response from, you can tell by fact that he hasn’t given Taehyung a single glance.

“Yes, but-”

“Then that’s the answer, Y/n. We get it!” Seokjin turns to Soyeon and gives her a gross affectionate kiss on the cheek. “You guys are jealous of the love we found and you didn’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day. So, naturally, you turned to each other!”

Taehyung looks at you, and you at him, once again neither of you being able to look at each other seriously and you both start to laugh, yet again.

“We aren’t actually seeing each other!” Taehyung leans against the wall so casually, you wonder where this confidence has come from. It looks good on him.

If it weren’t Taehyung, you wouldn’t be so calm about confessing your conniving plans of fake dating. The way he’s so casually laughing and accepting the fact that you were both caught helps ease the anxieties you know you would have felt. And in this moment you realize why he’s not upset and why he’s not embarrassed: he’s finally moving on from Soyeon.

And, you guess, the same thing is happening with you with Seokjin.

“We faked it all,” you smile genuinely, “Of course we were upset when you guys got together, but honestly for myself, I would have had an easier time moving on if you two weren’t constantly shoving your love down everyone’s throats.”

“We’re surprised you haven’t been in a hallmark movie yet,” Taehyung adds.

“Exactly!” Pointing at Taehyung as he nods his head, you relax even more.

Seokjin and Soyeon stare at the two of you, stunned on an entirely new level. Looks like you and Taehyung are the first to tell them how gross and obnoxious their PDA has been.

Soyeon looks at Taehyung with a weird glint in her eyes, one that makes you instantly suspicious of what she’s about to say.

“Taehyung, let’s get out of here,” you suggest. “I may not be in love with you romantically, but I think it’s safe to say we’re pretty great friends. And as your new great friend, I suggest we quit our jobs and run off together into this sunset!” You jump up quickly and hold out your arm for him to take.

“I agree completely, Y/n!” Taehyung jumps with just as much fervor as you and gladly takes your arm.

As the two of you start to skip past a dumbstruck pair of exes, you pause before Seokjin and boop the tip of his nose playfully. “You’ll tell the boss for us, won’t you?” You wink and continue on with Taehyung.

Deep down, you’d give anything to go back in there and explain the situation entirely with your ex, to have one last heart to heart and really see just what’s going through his head and to get some sort of closure. But you know it’s not healthy to act that way anymore. It’s better to move on and enjoy the day with your newfound friend. So what if you’re single this Valentine’s Day. At least you get to be single with Taehyung.

Later that night, as Spongebob plays in the background of Taehyung’s living room, you look around at all the empty Chinese takeout boxes and at Taehyung passed out on his side of the couch, and you realize for the first time you feel genuinely at peace. Sure, you know it’s going to take some time to fully get over Seokjin.

With a friend like Taehyung by your side through it all, though, you know it won’t be so bad.

let me know what you think! :)

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

454 notes · View notes

rowyn-writes · 3 years

Text

A Mother's Love Part Two

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, major angst, implications of depression

Pairings: Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Dean, Jack, Sam, Reader, Cas (Mentioned only)

Word count: 3k

You sat on the couch of your childhood home, staring blankly at the T.V. Your knees were pulled up to your chin as you had your arms wrapped around your legs. It had been three weeks since you left the bunker, and you felt empty inside.

Your mother sat beside you, a cup of tea and honey in her hand and a concerned look on her face. "Darling, you have to eat something. I know you haven't been feeling well, but you still need to stay healthy." You didn't respond to her as she set the cup of tea in your hands.

Everything felt numb. It was like you didn't feel any emotions at all. The world felt dull. Like all color had been stripped and it left you in darkness.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" She asked softly. Even though you had been with your parents for almost a month now, you had never fully discussed what happened with Dean.

"Mom, please-"

"No, Y/N." She put her foot down. "You call me one day, clearly upset saying that you and Jack were going to stay here for a while. You get here and you don't look like the daughter that I knew. You've changed."

You scoffed at your mother's words. "I'm getting a divorce, of course I've changed."

She sucked in a breath of air. "Y/N. What happened?" You gave your mother a brief rundown of what happened with you, Dean and Jack. "Oh, honey." She sympathized. "I am so sorry. You know that you and Jack are welcomed to stay as long as you like. I know your father is excited to have a grandchild."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up to your mother. "What?"

"Jack, of course." She explained. "Look at them. Your dad's so happy. It's about time you give us a grandson."

"Lord knows you couldn't count on Chris for that." You rolled your eyes. "He can't keep a girl to save his life." Your smile began to fade slightly as your stomach did flips. Your mom noticed your green complexion and ran to grab a trash can. It was nearly too late as you felt your dinner from last night coming back up. She held your hair back as you did so, calling for your dad to get a wet washcloth.

You felt a cold cloth across your forehead, cooling your body. "Mom!" Jack said worriedly. "Are you okay?.

"She's okay, kiddo." Your dad assured him. "She's just not feeling too well." He mumbled skeptically.

You sat back against the couch, holding the rag to your head. "Jack," Your mom called. "Why don't you and I go make some cookies?"

Jack smiled at the idea, looking to you for approval. "You don't have to ask me, sweetheart. Go have fun."

You mother dipped down to whisper something unintelligible in your dad's ear before going to the kitchen.

"Y/N," He shook his head. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Because I don't want it to be real." You muttered. "I don't want to think about the last thing that Dean said to me or the look on his face. I want to wake up and for this whole thing to be a dream. But I know it's not. I won't wake up next to him tomorrow and I don't get to tell him how much I love him." You chocked on a sob, covering you mouth with your hand so Jack wouldn't hear.

"Oh, my sweet girl." Your dad said softly, pulling you into his side. "I am so sorry, my darlin'." You rested your head on his shoulder as tears slipped down your cheeks. "That's not it, though. Is it? There's something else."

"Papa, I think I'm pregnant." You confessed. "I'm late and I've been sick all week."

"Have you taken a test yet?" He asked. You shook your head. "Okay, I'll tell you what. I'll go by the drug store and get a couple of tests, just to be sure, and I'll grab you some food on the way home. How does that sound?"

"Great." You said with a small smile. He kissed the top of your head before grabbing the keys and heading out of the house.

---

Five.

Five tests that had come back positive. Each one that you looked at made your heart sink more and more. "Oh god." You whimpered. "Damnit."

"What does it say, sweetie?" Your mother questioned from the other side of the door. You slowly opened it up and showed her the positive pregnancy test.

"Are they all positive?" You nodded.

"What am I gonna do?"

"I think you should call Dean-"

"No." You said firmly. "I'm not calling Dean. He made it very obvious that he didn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"Y/N," Your mother spoke firmly. "I'm not justifying what Dean said or did in the moment, however, he was just as hurt as you were because you were leaving with Jack and you didn't know how long you would be gone. I really think you should call him. I think he would want to know you're pregnant with his baby."

You sighed at her words. You knew she had a point. She was your mother, she's always right. "What if he doesn't care?" You whispered. "What if he hears my voice and hands up on me?"

"Then that's his loss, honey." She cooed. "The least you can do is try."

---

MEANWHILE, AT THE BUNKER;

"Dean." Sam shook his brother. "Dean. C'mon dude, wake up."

Dean groaned as his eyes peeled open. "What?" He grumbled.

"You've been sleeping in here all night." Sam said, crossing his arms. "You should probably get some rest in your own bed, or at the very least, the couch. And charge your phone while you're at it, it's dead."

Dean stretched add he looked at the empty whiskey bottle set on the table and the picture of your wedding day beside it. It had been a rough few weeks since you had left. "You know I can't go sleep in that damn bed." He growled.

"Dean, I offered to switch rooms with you-"

"I don't want to switch rooms!" He snapped. "I want my wife back."

Sam frowned as he looked at his brother. He looked awful. He hasn't shaven in weeks, his hair's a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Why don't you call her, Dean?"

"Because, after what I said, she'll never take me back. I was too harsh on her. Plus my phone is broken."

"One, you have ten phones, and two, yeah, you were a complete ass." Sam agreed. "You should have seen her when she left here. I had never seen anyone so. . . Broken before. You know they sparkle she had in her eyes?" Dean nodded. "It was gone. Her entire face seemed dull, almost like she had aged ten years."

Dean put his head in his hands, feeling defeated. "What have I done?"

"I don't know, but you had better make it right."

---

"Still no answer?" Your father asked. You had called Dean three times now and still no answer.

"Nope. Not a sound."

"I'm sorry honey," Your mother sympathized, rubbing your back. It's that anything we can do?"

"Yeah," You nodded. "I need space. I need to spend more time with Jack before the baby comes. I just want to know what it's like to be a mother."

"Of course." Your dad agreed. "Take the keys to the cabin in Colorado. I know that's a lot of good memories there and no pesky neighbors to worry about "

"Thanks, dad." You smiled. "We'll be outta here soon."

"You don't have to leave in a rush, kiddo. You know that we love having you here."

"I know."

---

"Why are we going to your parents cabin in Colorado?" Jack asked curiously as he peered out the window.

"Uh," You bit your lip as you tried to come up with a suitable lie to tell Jack. You hated how much you were lying to Jack lately, but you knew that he wouldn't understand the things that you were going through. "I just wanted to show you the place and stay up there for a little while. It's nice and quiet, you'll love it. It's cold up there and it's snowy in the winter. I used to go sledding all the time when I was younger and then my parents would call me in for hot chocolate and a movie. We can do that together. How does that sound, Jack?"

"It sounds great, Mom!" He smiled goofily. Every time he called you 'Mom,' your heart melted. You loved that Jack felt so comfortable around you to call you his mother. You knew that you would never be able to replace Kelly, and you would never want to, but you did want to make him feel safe and loved. You wanted Jack to know what a mother's love feels like. Jack blamed himself for the death of his mother, and you understood his grief, but you had told him time and time again that it wasn't his fault. Kelly wanted to go through with the pregnancy and refused to listen to anyone else's opinions on the matter. You just wished he understood that.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, quickly wiping it away. "What's wrong, Mom?" Jack questioned. "Is it about Dean?"

You glanced over at Jack in surprise. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, Sam and Dean aren't here, and Dean hasn't called you to check up on you since we left. I know that whenever you go on a hunt by yourself, Dean calls you everyday to make sure you're okay."

You sighed heavily as you looked at the road in front of you. "Dean and I are. . . Going through a tough time right now. That's why I wanted to get away for a while. And I didn't want to go by myself, so that's why I wanted you to come with me."

"Are we ever going back to the bunker?"

"I don't know. . . It's a difficult situation, Jack. Right now, I don't think that I will be going back home anytime soon. But if you want to go back, I'll take you back. I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"I want to stay with you." He said firmly. "But I also want you to be happy. You don't look happy anymore. You don't smile or laugh the way you used to. You sit on the couch watching reruns of Friends, and I've heard you crying at night. Sometimes I think you forget that I don't sleep very much."

You said nothing in response, knowing that Jack was right. You wanted to call Dean one more time, but you knew it was fruitless. He wasn't going to answer. But you did have Sam. When you finally arrived at the cabin, you sent Jack to unpack while you dialed Sam's number. After three rings, he finally picked up.

"Hello, Y/N? Are you okay? How's Jack?" He asked in one breath.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm fine, and so is Jack. I just wanted to call and make sure that you haven't gotten killed by anything."

"Nope, we're still alive." He gave a small chuckle. "How are you, Y/N, really? Don't lie to me, because I know when you're lying."

"I miss him." You sniffed. "Being away from him hurts me." Your voice cracked, forcing you to clear your throat. "We've been married for five years. And I know that to the average person that doesn't seem like a long time, but we're hunters, Sam. You know how hard it is to stay in a relationship in our line of work. I've been in love with him for half my life, and now, for us to be in this situation, it sucks, Sam. I can't think of any other word to describe it. It really fucking sucks."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he listened to you cry. "I'm sorry this is happening, Y/N. I never thought that this would happen to you and Dean. But I've known Dean my whole life, and I've known you since we were twenty, so I think that I'm entitled to make a judgement on this." You let out a small laugh. "You two have been in love longer than you've been together, but both of you have been to dumb to realize it. You argue like cats and dogs because you're so certain about what you believe in. You're both so passionate about things that you never let up. And now that you're finally together, you have been so happy. Dean has never felt this way about anyone that he's been with, male or female. He loves you so much, Y/N, that it kills him. You have both come too far to for things to end like this. I'm going to tell you the exact same thing I told Dean; fix this."

"I want to, Sammy, I just don't know how."

"Stop hiding, for one. You can't fix something when you're hundreds of miles away." You groaned as you felt a wave of nausea was over you. "Y/N?" You quickly made your way to the bathroom. "Y/N? What's going on? Are you okay?"

You leaned against the wall once you were done throwing up. "Yeah, yeah, Sam, I'm okay."

"What was that about, then?" Sam questioned. When you didn't answer, he began putting the pieces together himself. "You're pregnant."

"SHH!" You hissed. "Don't say that!"

"Why not? Because you don't want Dean to know?" He spoke coldly.

"Sam, please, don't say anything."

"How long have you known, Y/N? And how long do you plan on keeping this from Dean?"

You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I've known for a couple of days, okay? And I don't know when or how I'm going to tell Dean. He made it very clear that he didn't want anything to do with me the last time we talked. Besides, I tried to call him and he didn't answer my calls, so don't try to pin me off as the bad guy here."

"When did you try to call him?" The hard edge in Sam's voice disappeared.

"Three days ago, when I found out I was pregnant."

You could hear Sam let out a small laugh. "Three days ago I came in the kitchen to find Dean passed out on the table, hung over as hell and holding on to the picture of your wedding day. And beside him was his broken phone. His main phone, which I'm assuming is the one that you called?"

"Yeah. . ." You said meekly.

"Hang up and call his second phone. Please, will you do that for me?"

"Yes," You nodded, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I love you, Y/N/N."

"I love you too, Sammy." You sighed as you hung up the phone. You were terrified to call Dean. You hadn't spoken to him since that night all those weeks ago. You were still hurt, and you knew that Dean was hurting as well, and all you wanted was to hear his voice. You took a deep breath as you dialed his second phone number.

It rang five times before going to voicemail, making your heart sink. Not a minute later, the number called back. "Hello?"

"Y/N." Dean's voice said gruffly. "Sam told me you were going to call."

"Did. . . Did he tell you anything else?" You asked.

"Just that I needed to talk to you. What's going on?"

"I miss you," You confessed. You needed to tell Dean everything, and that included telling him how you felt. "I hate the way things ended between us, and I know that it wasn't solely on you or me. But I love you, Dean, and I will never stop loving you. And I know it's unfair I left and this is how I'm trying to get you back; over the phone. I would much rather be doing this in person. But I love you, Dean, and I always will. No matter what you say or do, I love you."

You could hear Dean struggling to breathe correctly. "Where are you?"

"My parents cabin, wh-"

"I'll be tomorrow morning." And with that, he hung up.

---

You paced back and forth in the living room, biting your nails. Dean didn't say what time he was going to be here, but he just said that he would be here in the morning. You had stayed up all night thinking about him. About the way his hair fell into his face after a shower, and how he always smelled like whiskey and firewood. The way his eyes would crinkle at the edges whenever he laughed, really laughed. But your favorite thing was when you had just finished a hunt, and you would go to lie down in bed, Dean would pull you close to him and whisper how much he loves you.

A sharp knock at the door snapped you out of your trance. "Who is it, Mom?" Jack asked, peering around the corner.

"Why don't you come see, kiddo." You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans before opening the door to reveal Sam and Dean. "Hi," You smiled. Sam was the first to come inside and hug you. He grinned as he pulled away, ruffling your hair.

"Why don't I take Jack into town for a little bit while you guys work this out?" He suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. Jack, go put on your shoes, you're going into town with Sam for a little while." Jack beamed at your works, hurriedly putting his shoes on a following Sam out the door.

"Hi," You said once more after Sam and Jack were gone. Dean didn't say a word as he hugged you tightly. You melted into his touch, feeling comfort in his embrace. The familiar smell of whiskey and firewood filled your nostrils. You closed your eyes to savor this moment. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

taglist:

@vicariouslythruspn @mimaria420 @fofisstilinski @daphnen21 @katwed @anunstablefangirl @desimarie12 @alderpine @rebeccaitsnotwhatyouthink @akshi8278

Also, yes, there will be a part 3

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #Sam Winchester #jack kline imagine #Jack Kline #jack imagine #supernatural #Supernatual #Supernatural angst #supernatural imagine #supernatural fluff #supernatural x reader

300 notes · View notes

i-need-air · 3 years

Text

Good news; Bakugou Katsuki x Reader.

Summary: F!Reader. Your soon to be husband arrives home just as you settled down, not knowing the recently made curry is not the only surprise of the evening.

Word Count: 3.3k [It all started with a drabble💀]

Warnings: Disgusting fluff. So much fluff. Tooth rotting fluff. Reader is female and can get pregnant aaaand I just spoiled everything. More fluff and Katsuki ruining the fluff bc he's a gremlin even when older. Pro Hero Bakugou so expect him to be kinda more mature. Fluffy petnames and fluff. Did I mention fl—🤡

You sighed, sprawled over the couch in a comfortable position, action movie playing in the backround as you were fidgeting with the engagement ring on your finger, a small smile plastered on your face. Red ruby, just as his eyes; your mind drifted to all the compliments you threw at him about those eyes that flustered him beyond reason. Through a chuckle, the jewel reached your lips as you landed a kiss on it.

The key jiggle made your lips curve more and you covered more under the fluffy blanket, eager and giddy to see his face. He was so obnoxiously loud even while doing the smallest tasks, like just coming through the door of your shared apartment. With a groan and a very audible neck crack, he threw the keys in the bowl by the entrance and spotted you on the couch.

"Lookin' comfortable." His voice was amused, hidden between his normal gruff tone. You could only wiggle your exposed toes at him as a greeting, earning a scoff in return.

With that, he started his usual routine of bitching about his side-kicks, villains, the world; you name it and Bakugou Katsuki has a reason to trash talk about it. Yet this time he interrupted himself in his monologue as he smelled the air just as he was approaching the sofa, stopping himself in his tracks.

"Is that curry?" He said, suddently all annoyance regarding everything and everyone forgotten, the smell of delicious spicy food making him look like a child excited to be alive. With a giggle, you nodded at his expression, absolutely adoring his bright face.

"Yeah, I did. Just finished it, actually."

"Damn. What's the occasion, princess?" He asked with a smirk before throwing the blanket off, then launched himself on you like a dead weight, making you groan. Katsuki always seemed to forget how incredibly built he was. Massive, muscular and acted like a total baby whenever he was exhausted, specially enjoying sprawling himself on you whenever he got the chance.

"Not hungry?" You mutter, deciding to not answer his question and trying your best to find a position to breathe while still encircling him with your arms, although it seemed a hard task. You opted to lead his head into your chest, then massage his back muscles with soft fingertips, just as he loved and denied to love simultaneously.

He hid his expression into your cleavage, grumbling something indistinguishable as he cuddled closer into you. How come he always had this effect on you? Such a giant baby yet these tender actions had your heart going crazy, making you melt into him. Or, more likely, get squished under him.

"Didn't catch that, baby." He groaned, urging you to massage him more as he lifted his face a little just so you can hear better.

"I fuckin' said—" of course he had to be a pain in the ass too; he bit your breast lightly which earned a slap on his shoulder and with a smirk, he continued. "Just wanna stay like this for a while." You noticed his pout before he rubbed his forehead into your neck. Katsuki has been overworking himself since he opened his own hero agency and, even if it got amazing results, sometimes he forgot to just take care of himself. It's the reason why you decided to take it upon yourself to remind him. Although he complained and grumbled like an old man that's done with life, you could always see the beginning of a smirk plastered on his beautiful face, hint that he loved the attention and care. What a baby, your fiancé that is.

"C'mon, baby, you need to eat." Any attempt to remove him from your person was brushed off completely since he weighted like a tank. He even dared to whine and encircle his arms around you. Definitely a baby.

"Did ya eat?" His voice was soft and you almost missed it.

"Not yet. I was waiting for you." You answer just as low, running your fingers through his incredibly soft hair. How dare he use the same hair products you use and have such different results? Like you'd ever ask out loud, knowing he'd just smirk triumphantly as if he won an imaginary competition.

Even if he didn't express it vocally, Katsuki was thankful for these domesticity, that being having dinner together whenever you had the chance. Yet he always answers with the same "You shouldn't have, you stubborn woman." Just like now.

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, the usual bickering starting, same bickering that always making you feel warmth in your stomach, but now it wasn't the time to play since you had other plans. With that, you lifted the hairs brushing his forehead and gave him a kiss before looking up at the ceiling, still continuing your gentle ministrations.

"So... I was thinking."

"Ah, fuck—" Before he could throw a sarcastic joke around, you pressed his face into your chest to quiet the attempt, the deep rumble coming from his chest making you shake. "You tryin' to fucking kill me?" His amused accusations made you gasp dramatically.

"Right back at you!" His lips parted but you interrupted. "So I was thinking—" He shut up, not before giving you a a glare. "Remember when you took me hiking for the first a couple of years ago?"

"What about it?" His interest peaked, he raised himself on his elbow while giving you a raised brow.

"We reached the top of the mountain and we could see all Musutafu from there..." With muscle memory alone, your hand landed in his cheek to caress it, feeling his sharp cheekbone and adoring the way he leaned into it by reflex too. "I didn't watch it at all." His scandalized face made you laugh but you proceeded, not giving him a chance to scold the living hell out of you. "I was looking at you."

The statement just made his mouth shut closed, surprise washing over him.

"Why the f—"

"All I could think was Holy shit, I love him so much." It took him time to process it. A slow blink was thrown at you as he genuinely did not know how to respond. The image of his increasingly reddened cheeks was imprinting itself in your mind as you never, ever, wanted to forget this moment. And it just started. Butterflies ran through your guts and you felt your hands starting to shake. "You looked at the scenery and had this... serene... smile on your face. I couldn't look away." Your lips found his for just a second. "I thought I wanted to see that smile again and again and... that's when I realized I loved you."

He was malfunctioning at this point and oh, how you loved breaking him in the best way.

"I— But—" His palm reached his face, trying his hardest to hide that enthralling expression he had. There was a visible fight to hide an emerging grin and he was losing, the red in his cheeks and his normally prickly self still made him attempt a scowl. He then groaned loudly, taking the palm still placed on his cheeks to hide his eyes behind. "You fucking told me you loved me instantly after." He was grinning fully by now, intense orbs watching through your fingers.

"I just knew I always wanted to come to you first to tell you something. Like—" again, he's giving all his attention. "Good news, bad news... Whenever I need someone's opinion or just to rant... I always knew you're the first one I want to go to."

As years passed through your relationship, your words always managed to leave him mute and the affection coming with them was something Katsuki sometimes struggled to accept, at least at the beginning. By now you both matured together and it didn't seem to be an issue anymore yet with your speech, he did not know what to say. Only wonder showed.

"I just hope you feel the same about me." The shy, small whisper woke him up from whatever daze he was in and a determined and somewhat cocky expression took over him.

"Damn right I do! Like I'd go to any other extra when I got you."

Your fiancé, contrary to popular belief, wasn't just a brash, head straight into action type of man. He was observant and knew how to pick his fights. Katsuki also knew you very well as he studied you even before starting to go out together. He knew your moods and he definitely picked up that this conversation was serious. Exactly why he indulged you with the next sentence in all seriousness.

"What brings this up, babe?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you." As much as it was very true, it wasn't exactly the end of the conversation and he knew. His lips were soft as they pressed on yours, his cologne filling your lungs, his hand pulling you close, closer. Before he could get the chance to taste you more, the tease that he was, he pulled away.

"I love you too, princess." Those words always, without a fail, made you shiver or melt. And this time you did both, the dumbest grin taking over you only in response at his expression. The expression you always chased since that fateful day. The same serene and at peace look he gave was now focused on you and for a single second you got overwhelmed with love, making you blink away the happy tears threatening to approach. Because it wasn't over; you still had to deliver some news and the thought made your voice shaky.

"I have a surprise for you." Your noses were still touching, his breath was fanning over you. Self control had to be damned for another moment as you sweetly kissed his lips again. How can he be so addictive? Another kiss. So sweet. Another. So soft and so perfect.

"Yeah?" His smallest whisper still sounded rough.

"Mhm..." With a head movement, you pointed at the chocolate box placed strategically on the small table by your side, sharp rubies following the movement in confusion, giving you the chance to kiss the cheek now in front of you. "You know I've been feeling pretty bad recently."

"And you still ate the damned fucking chocolates." He muttered, feeling the moment was over. Oh, poor, innocent Katsuki.

"There was a reason for that."

"Open the box." As if you told him the world's greatest secret, he hesitated with suspicion. "C'mon, baby." His petname made him perk, the plea in your tone leading him to give in with a long, exagerated sigh and furrowed brows. He threw his arm to grab the red box then settled himself back on your body, practically opening his surprise on your stomach.

The small white stick hidden inside of it stuck out like a sore thumb and The Great Bakugou Katsuki just stared at it plainly. Taking in the object like it's a weird, ancient artifact he was trying really hard to descypher. Nervousness was running through your veins and you bit your lips in hesitancy. The moment the gears in his head started working and some wires connected to get to the point finally came and you observed it with great care. His brows raised as he adjusted his position better, and with a child-like confusion merged with an indescribable spark behind his eyes, he raised his gaze towards you.

"Is this—" His breath hitched and even if his lips were trembling, they gave away a ghost of a smile. Still, his eyebrows were so high it was hilarious.

"Aha."

"The two lines...?" He got up, looking between you and the now harshly gripped pregnancy test in his hand. It seemed his brain was processing it slowly.

"It means it's positive, Katsuki."

The longest silence followed and as he stood there in a sitting position, expression hidden by his blond hair, you did not know what to feel. All you knew is that your chest burned with nervousness, your stomach turned again and again, the butterflies still spiraling around crazed. The need to know what he was thinking was taking over you but deep down a voice told you to just take in the moment and wait patiently.

The voice, your instinct and intuition built around this man were all right, because it did not take Katsuki long to start shaking. He rubbed his face, rushed and clumsy, rare of him. His leg started bouncing and a choked attempt of a laugh escaped his mouth. But it was the sniffle that made you bolt up and put a hand on his tensed shoulder.

"You're—" he struggled to talk. "You're fucking— You're pregnant?"

When he landed his gaze on you, all the increasing nerves started dissipating. Unshed tears were in the corners of his eyes. His lips were trembling but hid a smirk. He was rattled, all sense of tiredness gone... Bakugou Katsuki looked nervous, excited, amazed as he took you in through a new light. Like he ultimately understood what was going on and understood that right then and there, inside your belly a small new life was being created.

It took you back to the top of Musutafu, his face, his serene face. This Katsuki was now your favorite Katsuki. This trembling mess of a man, holding down his excitement made you adore him yet again for the n-th time in your life and you found yourself falling deeper in love with him.

So with a struggled breath, he blinked a couple of times to wake up from his daydream and his smile turned into a grimace.

"Wait. You fucking peed on this?" Although it was a question, he almost stated it with a straight face and the moment was gone. Vanished. Perished into nothing. More likely into boiling fury.

"You infuriating, insufferable, annoying man. I cleaned the damned test afterwards!" you groaned, getting up, not knowing if you wanted to cry, slap him, hug him, kiss him or throw the whole man plus the pregnancy test out the window. The only direction in your mind was the kitchen, where the delicious curry was cooling down. "You find out I'm pregnant and that's what you fucking have to s—?" He was faster, incredibly so, grabbing your hand and throwing you into him until your back was glued into his front and he laughed, sniffled and laughed some more. It wasn't his usual arrogant one, nor his characteristic scoffs of amusement. It was Katsuki laughing wholeheartedly at your reaction and at whatever was going on.

He encircled you into his arms again and you noted how small you felt anytime he did that. The whole revolution in your stomach returned as his nose hid into the nape of your neck and started shaking with you in his embrace.

"Holy fucking shit." He squeezed you into him, hands traveling to your covered belly as he tried his hardest to control his trembling self and failed miserably. Not that either cared. The gentlest he's ever been, he raised your shirt and ran his fingers over the exposed flesh. "We made a fucking baby!" Only he could proclaim that with such victory, all while you stared down at his roughed and calloused hands now placed carefully on your stomach. You couldn't even savor it and attempt to place yours on top of his because he spun you around without grace in an instant and held you by your shoulders. "WE MADE A FUCKING BABY!"

The feeling left your body and you burst into a teary laughter as you nodded. The same rough palms grabbed you by the cheeks, squishing, and he kissed you. Hard and shaky, brash and messy as you relaxed and took all of it in, welcoming it and asking for more. His heart was beating hard, so hard it rivaled yours and he seemed to have a hard time deciding what to do first; kiss, talk or breathe.

"Fuck—" he growled into your lips. "Holy fuck—" his thumbs brushed the corner of your eyes, washing away the teardrops.

"You shouldn't swear in front of the baby." You teased. What you did not expect was for him to lean back, inhale sharply and look down at your stomach with wide orbs.

"Fuck, what?! Shit— I mean— Already?!" His panic just amused you further and the guilt he was oozing made you giggle.

"Of course not, you goof. Maybe in a few months though..."

You'd expect a snap back, an annoyed grunt, a sassy retort, a sarcastic jab at the silly joke you made, an argument to defend himself. Anything but him falling on his knees in a slow motion and raising your shirt again just to stare.

Your last statement maybe made him fall again into a spiral of realization because it surely did that for you too. In a few months...

"For how long have you known?"

"I started thinking about it a couple of weeks ago—" Like you'd slapped him, he snapped towards you in an incredulous, shocked manner. "But I wanted to wait to see if my period maybe decided to come very late and when it didn't—" he calmed. "I took the tests. Today."

"Tests?" He pulled you closer by the hips.

"I bought 5 different ones. I had to drink so much water." You grin and he scoffs.

"You didn't wait to tell me, hah?" How come he sounded so accusing even when you did something good and even when he smiled while saying it?

"Of course not. I told you, silly, I always go to you first with any news. Good or bad..."

He noticed. He always does. Never the verbal man, he was not the type to say something unless completely and utterly necessary, instead he was one to show what was needed to be said with actions. But being together for so long, he learned that sometimes he needed to voice out a few things, just to easen your poor confused and uncertain heart. After really taking your previous words to heart, accepting them and loving them, he did have to reassure you.

"This is good news, princess. This is—" On his knees, grinning like a mad man, the sparkle in his red eyes made you nod, not even knowing why, and pull him closer into your body. His cheek touched your stomach and he relaxed, snuggling closer into it. "This is amazing fucking news." His breath tickled and you nodded again into the air, weight lifting off your shoulders.

While normally he was the one to hilariously ruin a sweet scenery with one of his snarky remarks just to easen the overwhelming emotions from said situation, it did not happen this time. No. This time you did as your stomach rumbled loudly into his ear and you started wheezing, both out of embarrassment and amusement.

"For fuck's sake, [Y/N]! You should've eaten!" He raised and in the blink of the eye he dragged you towards the kitchen.

"Sorry! I forgot to eat today and I wanted to wait for you to surpr—"

"SAY FUCKING WHAT—?! You forgot to eat— THE WHOLE FUCKING DAY?!"

His screaming, his flustered and annoyed face, the way he threw the curry into a plate and placed it in front of you, the way he tapped his foot on the ground waiting for you to eat... The way a vein popped on his forehead as an idiotic smile washed over you...

"I love you, Katsu..."

"Yeah, yeah, eat the damned food already. Always have to be so fuckin' cheesy. Can't fucking believe you did not eat at all today, you annoying woman. You fucking tell me every single day to take care of myself and now you pull this shit—" his incessant rambling continued even after you started eating so you decided to be mischievous.

"We love you, Katsu."

He then short-circuited.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #noire writes #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #mha #bnha x reader #noirewrites

617 notes · View notes

juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

About Time (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader’s offer to help Morgan renovate one of his properties makes Spencer jealous enough to confess what he never could before.

A/N: I try to avoid specific Reid eras in my works so that it can be up to you how you imagine him, but please just imagine seasons 1 or 2 Spencer - I’m telling you it’ll make the experience richer. Also, I might improve this fic in the near future bc I’m not entirely happy with it. Category: Drabble, Fluff Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: None Word Count: 2.5k Playlist: Would You Be So Kind by Dodie

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Clink … Clink … Clink …

The repetitive noise was barely discernible at first, then it became all that I could focus on.

In an attempt to find the source, I looked up from my paperwork and scanned the room. It only took me half a second to discover that Morgan was the culprit.

From across the round table, I watched as Derek absentmindedly stirred his coffee and sugar together, making a ‘clink’ noise each time his spoon hit the rim of the cup. This wouldn’t have been bothersome had it not persisted for more than 10 minutes which, by all accounts, is plenty of time for the sugar to dissolve.

“Derek… ” I sort of sang, trying to capture his attention as nicely as possible.

“Derek.” I repeated, this time a little less quietly and a little more sharply. Still, my voice did nothing to stop the noisy stirring of his coffee. I stayed silent for a second, just in case he finally noticed I was speaking to him, but when he didn’t, I gave a concerned look to Spencer beside me as if to ask if he was seeing what I was and he returned just the same expression of confusion.

That’s when I knew something was wrong.

“Derek!” I said even louder, finally catching his attention.

His head snapped in my direction, his ghost-like countenance falling away after looking directly at me. I was relieved to see proof of life had been regained behind his eyes. The abrupt reaction made me squint harder in his direction to decipher what was truly going on. “Is everything okay? You were kind of zoning out just now.”

He sighed while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “It’s nothing. I just had a late night last night and I didn’t go to bed till three this morning.”

“Oh?” I asked coyly. “And what was her name?” I brought my mug to my lips to hide my growing smirk behind the rim.

He didn’t catch on right away, which to me was more than enough evidence that he wasn’t well. He was usually the first to be aware of an innuendo, maybe even the one to be making it. “Whose name?”

“The girl that kept you up till three this morning.” I mimicked his voice in crude yet playful imitation.

To this, he shook his head and rolled his eyes with a grin. “Alright, get your pretty lil’ head out of the gutter, Kitten. I was busy fixing up a property I got down in Emporia. Lost track of time. That’s all.”

Whether or not he was hiding something more, I didn’t care anymore. He’d piqued my interest in this new topic. “Emporia? That’s like 2 or 3 hours away.”

His eyebrows lifted in agreement. “Yeah, like I said - late night.”

Not even trying to tempt him with my words, I simply remarked, “But I mean it can’t be that hard though, right? Fixing up the house?”

There was no verbal response from him, only a mirthless chuckle.

I was less careful with my words than I should’ve been, letting them flow through my mouth without filtering them first. “I’m just saying, I worked with Habitat For Humanity for years. We built thousands of houses from scratch, each of them within a matter of days.”

He sat up in his seat and leaned forward to assert himself. It was nearly the same mannerisms he would display in an interview when he wanted to maintain dominance. “Well, that’s because you got how many people working on one house?”

When I didn’t answer, he simply tapped the table and leaned back comfortably in his seat, prematurely relishing in a self-proclaimed victory. “Yeah, exactly. Whereas, it’s just little ol’ me fixing up these properties.”

“Okay, then I’ll help you.”

He only snickered in response, lending way for me to believe he didn’t trust that I’d provide any sort of productive assistance.

“I will!” I insisted. “Since you’re so convinced those houses were only built as fast as they were because it was a group effort, I want to prove to you that it’s actually because I’m just a fast worker.”

“It’s not a race, Kitten. All I said was it took me a while to fix up the house. I don’t need you to help. And I wouldn’t be paying you even if you did, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m not doing this for money,” I reasserted. “I’m doing this for pride. I know I’m right, and I want you to know it, too.”

It’s worth mentioning that Derek and I made these kinds of bets all the time. Our friendship was practically built on the foundation of competition. The first interaction I ever had with him was when he came up to me while I was arranging my desk to ask what I thought the odds were that he could toss his paper ball into the trashcan across the bullpen.

Years Ago . . .

“What are the chances I’ll make the shot?” I heard a deep, unfamiliar voice inquire from behind me.

“You’re aiming for the trashcan all the way over there? No way.” This voice I knew was Elle’s. She’d been the second person to introduce herself to me and if I had to guess, the deeper voice belonged to the guy I recalled sitting diagonally from her. I made eye contact with him when I initially walked in, but he hadn’t taken the time to introduce himself to me, nor I to him. He seemed a little preoccupied … making a paper ball and all.

“Actually, if Morgan’s throw had specific arc, the trajectory of the ball would -”

“He’s not making it, Reid.” Elle cut off the small, almost mousy voice promptly, shutting down any ‘pro-Morgan-making-the-shot’ argument he was about to make.

You could get a lot from just listening. Some might call it eavesdropping, but I like to call it being observant, and from what I’d observed

A) The one throwing the ball was Morgan.

B) The smart-sounding one was Reid.

C) Reid was a proponent of Morgan, so I could assume they were close friends.

D) There were three very distinct, very different personalities in this general vicinity of desks alone.

“O’ ye of little faith! Gimme a break, Elle. You’re just busting my balls ‘cause Reid came to me about Lila before he came to you.”

“That has nothing to do with the fact that I’m right.”

“No, but it means you have bias.” Derek retorted.

“Fine then. If it means that much to you to have an unbiased opinion, let’s ask someone impartial - like Anderson.”

“Actually, I have a better idea,” The deep voice said as soon as I’d placed the last item on my desk - a stack of sticky notes in the shape of a cat’s face that’d been gifted to me the moment I exited the elevator by Penelope Garcia.

“Excuse me, Kitten,” The deep voice purred. “You think I could get this ball into that trash bin right over there?”

It took me a second to register that he was addressing me until I realized where the nickname originated from and that it had belonged to me - I could thank Penelope for that.

“Oh, um …” I looked around the room like somehow it would have my answer. In some ways, it did.

I made contact with Reid first. He smiled weakly at me with tender awkwardness that melted my heart a little bit. Meanwhile, Elle’s eyes were luring me to join her on the dark side and say he wouldn’t make it. To be fair, riling him up seemed like fun. I’d be on Elle’s good side, gain her approval, and if I executed my jest playfully enough, I’d be on Morgan’s good side, too.

“No shot in hell, big guy.”

Present Time . . .

That’s how it all started - this sibling-like rivalry. Ever since then, we’ve been challenging each other like our lives depended on it. And if I had to make it my life’s mission to win this most recent bet, then so be it.

“Alright, kitten, I’ll take you up on that offer. I’ll pick you up at 9 on Saturday.”

We sealed the deal with a cross-table handshake, and at that moment, I hadn’t realized it - only when I thought back to it, did I notice - Reid had been watching the entire interaction unfold. Misinterpreting every painstaking second of it.

_ _ _

Sticking true to his word, Derek had taken up my offer in spades. Not the least bit shy in delegating me each and every duty there could possibly be.

I’ll admit, he used my pride to his advantage. Because while I was practically doing all the handy-work imaginable inside the property, he was resting on his laurels outside, probably taking up the view of rolling green hills that went on forever just beyond the front yard.

It just so happened that that would be our maintained, respective locations for the unexpected arrival of Derek’s very first (very unhappy) guest.

I was inside painting when I heard the placid squeak of Derek getting up from his Adirondack chair on the wraparound porch. I remember peeking my head out of the doorway for a second to see if he was finally going to come inside and help me, but lo and behold, I caught him walking further away from the entrance. While I might’ve given an eye roll of annoyance at the action, I thought nothing of it. Not until I heard Derek speaking to an eerily familiar secondary voice.

“What are you doing here?” I could hear Derek ask. My ears had perked up like a dog on high alert.

“Don’t play dumb. You’re trying to … to -” The second voice stammered.

“Spit it out, kid!”

“You’re trying to steal my girl!” Whoever it was, was desperate to speak with conviction, maybe even malice, to prove some level of strength that could match Derek’s, but they tried and failed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Steal your girl? What the hell are you talking about, man?”

“You know I like her! And yet you’re just hanging out with her alone now? On one of your desolate properties? Can’t you see how suspicious that looks? You’re supposed to be my friend.”

I’d stopped painting completely at this point so I could take asylum behind the closed door. I could place that voice anywhere, and I needed to press my ear against the only thing separating it from me to confirm what I already knew.

“Reid, I am your friend,” And there it was. Reid? “And as your friend, I’m telling you: lower your voice unless you want her to hear you.”

“Don’t patronize me. Just tell me,” Spencer, if anything, spoke louder. Perhaps he did want me to hear him, or he simply wanted to defy Derek. “Why do you flirt with her?”

“Flirt?” Derek seemed appalled at the word. It would’ve been offensive that he was disgusted at the thought of engaging with me in that manner had I not felt the same way. What we were doing was not flirting - by any stretch of the imagination.

“You know what I’m talking about. You call her ‘Kitten,’ you both make sexual innuendos that you think fly over my head, you invite her to come over.”

“Slow your roll, Pretty Boy. First of all, ‘Kitten’ is just a nickname I gave her the first time we met because I didn’t know what her actual name was. You know that - you were there. Second, the sexual innuendos are just playful jabs at the fact that I sleep around. Low hanging-fruit. Third, inviting her to come over might seem suspicious, but if you walk in there right now, you’ll see that nothing is going on between us. She’s just here to help.”

I wanted any excuse to walk out there myself and announce my nearby presence. Confront Spencer and tell him I heard everything. Ask him where any of this was coming from. How he could think, for even a second, that there was something between me and Morgan.

Turns out, I didn’t need an excuse. I had already walked out.

Spencer gulped hard when he saw me. And for that I felt sorry for him. He looked so unlike himself. His hair was disheveled like he’d ran his fingers through it a million times out of stress. His outfit was strangely untidy, the buttons of his cuff unclasped. “Could you ... did you-”

“I heard everything,” I clarified to the dumbfounded shell of a man standing at the base of Morgan’s stairs.

It was a triangle of stares between us all. Exchanging quizzical glances in a battle of wills to see who would fold first. I was looking at Reid, Reid was looking at me, then he looked at Morgan, who looked back at him, then at me. Like I said, a triangle of stares.

“Um ... I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll just be inside.”

I suppose there were worse ways to finally get Morgan off his ass and working.

Reid trailed Morgan with his eyes, while I simply waited for the sound of the door shutting behind me. It took a few more seconds until one of us had the gall to speak.

“Did you mean what you said? About liking me?” This question that I posed went unanswered for what felt like minutes. Looking at Reid, I could tell he wanted to say something, he just didn’t know what.

The soul was willing, but the flesh was weak.

“If you’re not ready to admit it, that’s okay. But then why did you really come here, Spencer? To yell at Morgan for possibly making a move on me? Because now’s your chance. Make your move, Spence.” I descended the stairs, stopping to stand on the very last step so I’d hover a mere inch above him. “Make a move.”

Make a move, he did.

Warm, clammy hands that were disproportionately bigger than the rest of his body caught my face so that unbelievably, inconceivably soft lips could make their fierce attack with no resistance. His fingers laced through my hair until his hand found the nape of my neck. He used that as leverage to pull me impossibly closer.

When he was just one step away from sucking my soul out of me, I laid my palm on his chest and pushed him slightly backward. I think I heard him laughing when I did this, probably to hide the shame of letting himself commit so fully to the moment that he forgot just how intense his passion was.

His eyes fluttered open and his lips were still contorted in a pucker. It took him a second, but it finally came.

“I meant what I said,” He confessed ever so nonchalantly as though it were the easiest thing in the world to him, despite being unable to come even close to admitting it just minutes before. “I like you. A lot.”

It was me who laughed then, both from the sheer elation hearing him say that brought me and the distant, exasperated comment that came from within the house.

“Well, finally! It’s about damn time!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

If you’re on this taglist, I strongly suggest commenting, reblogging, or liking!

CLICK HERE TO JOIN A TAGLIST

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid @spenxerslut @you-sunshine @spencerreid9

Tag not working: @josiemay20

#spencer reid #spencer reid kiss #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #about time #juniorgman187

310 notes · View notes

subbe93 · 3 years

Text

Day 3: Those lucky ones

A/N: Fact: I'm sooooooo weak for Black Knight & Princess Au! I always thought that there is not enough material for this Au, that I should make some, but as much as I have been thinking of that Au, I haven't got much out of me xD Is anyone surprised? Because I'm not :'D But I still kinda hope that I'm going to write more about it, because I have many thoughts to share :3

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Shinichi had always hated dances. Well, he has to admit that it was nice to see how everyone was dressed in their best, kept up good behavior, ate and drink as much as they could, and dances as much as they liked. Like now. Everyone was having fun, the music was great and if he and other knights have luck, maybe they got some of that food, which was always so great. Mouri has probably the best cook that any kingdom could have. Well, it’s most likely that every kingdom said the same of their own cooks.

When you look at things that way, there shouldn’t be anything to complain about. Yet Shinichi found himself in a bad mood every time they informed him about dances. And every time he hoped that there would be some reason to cancel them. Well, it never happened.

So, there he was again, standing in one corner of the ballroom, doing his best not to be noticed and watching how people were dancing. Luckily, like every other knight, most of his face was hidden behind a helmet, so anyone couldn't read anything from his face. No one could see how those blue eyes narrowed when one of those young men asked the princess to dance, and after getting a positive answer, he led her on the dancefloor. Shinichi looked at how that prince put his hand on her waist and the other gripped her delicate hand. He watched how they start to dance, how the princess smiled, laughed… How she looked so happy.

And Shinichi has to use all of his willpower just not to grin. No one needs to see him biting the bullet and wonder what’s wrong with that knight. There was nothing wrong with him! Except that his heart got a new crack and part of him dies every time, but nothing more, nothing less… Nothing which he hasn’t used to already.

Well, that was a lie that he kept telling himself.

It was unbelievable how after all this time it still hurt to saw how the love of his life was there, enjoying everyone’s attention, dancing with all those young men who all promised to her their land and everything she ever dreamed of. And the worst part was that she enjoyed it. Well, maybe not precisely enjoyed it, but she was nice enough to look like she enjoyed it, and sadly it was enough to make Shinichi feel jealous and sad.

He couldn’t ever promise anything to her. He was only a knight, he didn’t have practically anything. Well, he has a roof over his head, food, and uniform, and a few clothes, which king Kogoro thought would be enough. Well, Shinichi didn’t think it was fair, because at least he was one of those who was working particularly 24/7, but he didn’t want to fight with king and queen about it. He knew that the king had drunk too much money, so he could see how this kingdom hasn’t much money to do anything. And in the end, he was there only because of the princess. He knew that it would have been probably wiser to leave and find a job which he got paid enough, but then what? After that, he probably couldn’t even take a step towards the castle. After all, he would be just a normal citizen. The only reason why he was grown up in the castle was that his parents worked for the royal family. But if they wouldn’t, Shinichi wouldn’t be in this situation.

His life and love were all he could give that girl, and because he hadn’t royal blood in him, they meant nothing. All he could do was being obedient and do his job as princess Ran’s personal guard. Well, being her personal guard was much more than he ever dared to dream of. At least he could protect her with his life and make sure that she would be safe and sound. And happy. That was all that mattered.

That was all he could ask for.

And yet he wanted more. There was always something more, even when he had more than he should. Even now, when he looked at her on the dancefloor... If he could just have one dance. Just one chance to take that beautiful and kind princess in his arms, run her over the dancefloor, be the reason why she would smile, laugh, look happy…

“Hey, Kudo?”

Shinichi took his gaze away and looked at the knight who just stood beside him. Well, that knight he recognized easily.

“What’s wrong, Hattori?” he whispered loud enough that Heiji could hear it over the music. “Did something happen?”

“No, just…” He looked away before smiled at him. “Actually, Kazuha has free night today, so I thought that maybe I could sneak out and… You know…”

Shinichi frowned even though he knew Heiji wouldn’t see it. “Come on, Hattori, we have a ballroom full of people, and right now all you can think is a girl?”

“What’s the problem?” Heiji snapped. “There is everything good, isn’t it? I don’t think there is going to happen anything. And it was rare that we have some free time at the same time…”

“Rare?” Shinichi laughed and looked again at the ballroom. “And this morning I just saw you and Kazuha-san spending the lazy morning in the garden, smooching…”

“What?”

“So yeah, you have more than enough free time with her if you ask me”, Shinichi continued and glanced at him. “But if your father is okay with that, then it’s fine. I don’t think you need my permission for anything.”

Heiji sneered. “Yeah, but even if he is knight commander, he respects you pretty much.”

“He respects you too, you know”, Shinichi answered.

“Well, I still don’t want to go to him, at least not now when he stands close king and queen”, Heiji answered and looked behind him. Shinichi followed the gaze and saw how king and queen were talking to some other royals. Behind there was the knight commander, Heizo Hattori, watching closely. “I don’t really care to share my goings to them.”

Shinichi smiled. “You don’t want to go to tell them that you are more interested in your girlfriend instead of keeping this kingdom safe?”

“Haha, Kudo”, Heiji answered dryly, and Shinichi could imagine how his friend just gazed at him angrily. “You sound jealous. Maybe you should give up and find someone…” He stopped and Shinichi had to do everything that his smile wouldn’t fade away. “Ah, sorry, Kudo, I didn’t…”

“It’s okay”, he interrupted and turned to observe the ballroom again. “Go to meet Kazuha-san and have a fun night. I call if I need you.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Kudo. I owe you one.”

Shinichi nodded and observed from the corner of his eyes how Heiji left. His smile disappeared when he turned his attention back to the princess and her partner. Her eyes were so bright, she smiled beautifully… At least princess Ran was happy. In the end, it didn’t matter who made her happy, as long as they made her happy.

And it was one crack more in his heart.

--------

Shinichi hated dances. It didn’t matter if they were birthday, summer, Christmas, or whatever dances, he never liked them. Because when the clock passed over the midnight and everyone was drunk enough, all the guests become so irritating. They made fun of him, underrated him (even though he was the one who would sacrifice his life for them), and treat him like a slave. Shinichi didn’t mind helping people and make sure that they have everything, but what he couldn’t take was the attitude of how those royal blood bastards treated him and others who worked in the castle. Like those noblemen were better than they. There wasn’t any hint of gratitude or humility. And it made Shinichi angry every time. How they could survive if there weren’t servants, cooks, knights? What would happen if they all just stopped doing their jobs and leave those nobles alone here?

Yeah, those nobles weren't any better than they were. They were only humans, like them. They just were lucky bastards who just happened to be born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Who just got everything and they didn’t have to even do anything to deserve it. Hell, all they could do would be showing even a little gratitude and humility to their servants who happen to keep them safe and sound. But no.

That’s the one reason why he liked princess Ran so much. She was still humble and kind, grateful. She never thought of herself top of others. She even put everyone else before her. She was a princess who just wanted to make sure that everyone was fine and happy.

Well, like his opinion mattered. He still needed to stay calm and just smile kindly to those guests.

So he was so relieved when almost every guest has landed in their rooms to sleep. Or doing whatever they wanted, Shinichi didn’t care. It was those knights’ problems who happened to have night sift on those corridors. Shinichi’s only problem was what happens in the corridor where the princess sleeps, and just because he was in a bad mood, he would kick anyone out if they even try come close to the princess’ room. Just because he can.

And that was the first thing he needed to do when he got on that corridor. One of those princes stood on the princess’ door knocking it, shouting something about letting him in, that he has something important to talk to the princess. He even had some flowers in his hand. The worst part was that he looked like he was a little drunk. Shinichi wanted to laugh. Really, that looked so pitiful. And how happy gardeners would be tomorrow when they see that someone had stolen flowers from the garden? It was probably too much to ask that this prince had cut them nicely.

So once again he needed to hear how trash he was, just because he was a worthless knight, whose only job was to die. Sadly for the prince, Shinichi had heard that so many times that his little smile wouldn’t twist one way or another.

“Listen, your highness”, he said a tip of mock in his voice, though he was sure that prince didn’t even notice it. “Princess Ran is sleeping, so as her personal guard, I ask you to go back to your room and come back tomorrow.”

“But this is important, you know! I need to meet her now!” prince muttered and turned to slam the door again. “PRINCESS RAN, I...”

Shinichi grabbed his hand making him stop. Prince broke from it and stepped away. “DON’T TOUCH ME YOU FILTHY…”

“If you please, would you go back to your room”, Shinichi said calmly and stepped in front of Ran’s door, making sure that the prince wouldn’t try anything anymore. “Come back tomorrow, thank you”, he continued and bowed a little. Just enough to make sure that he has respected that brat, and no one could give him an earful later because of this.

Prince throws his flowers towards him, which was pathetic because they just dropped on the floor between them. Then that young man started to walk away, murmuring something himself. Shinichi straightened himself and let his eyes follow how the prince's shadow disappeared.

Then he heard a little click behind him. He took a step away from the door, looked at it, and saw how the princess slowly opened it a little, just peeking outside.

“Is he gone?”

Shinichi looked at the end of the corridor. “Yeah, he is gone.”

“Thank god”, Ran sighed and opened the door more stepping back to her room. Shinichi realised her having a dressing gown which only was above her knees. He hasn't seen it before, though he was pretty sure that it was a little too short for her. He looked away. Well, in the end, it wasn't his place to judge. Though he wouldn't mind if he would be the only one who would see that...

Just do your check-up and leave, okay?

“I really thought he would never give up”, Ran continued while Shinichi stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “So persist…”

“You could have just said you’re not interested”, Shinichi smiled and took his helmet off. Ran shook her head and Shinichi looked around him. “And it seems like Sonoko got lost on her journey in here?”

Ran laughed. “No, I gave her this evening free”, she answered with a mischievous smile. “In the end, Kyogoku-san was one of the guests, so I thought she wants to spend some time with her prince.”

Yeah, there was another lucky pair.

“You have weird maids”, Shinichi said and looked at Ran, which was a mistake. Somehow his eyes managed to see how her dressing gown was too loose on her chest and whatever nightshirt she was wearing under the gown, it showed a little too much. He felt like she was doing this on purpose. She didn't do this easy for him, not tonight. So he looked away, pretending to check the balcony door behind her. “Both of them have free time at the same time even though they had job to do. Can you believe, even Hattori slipped out midway of dances?”

Ran giggled and made Shinichi look at her. “You can’t blame them, can you?” she asked and before Shinichi realised it, her fingers took the helmet from his hands. “It’s a beautiful night, people are partying beginning of the summer… It’s pretty romantic time to spend some time with the one you love.”

Shinichi wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn’t. He wanted to argue against it, yet he knew that maybe he would have wanted to spend some time with his special someone tonight if he would have had a chance. So he kept his mouth shut.

“And truth to be told”, Ran continued when she let his helmet resting on the bureau, “I would have also loved to be somewhere else than here tonight.”

Ran turned to him, and Shinichi felt how his heart raced on his chest. He wanted to say that he would have taken her everywhere she ever wanted, but he didn’t. He just stares at those beautiful eyes wondering how far he would get if he took that young woman and just escape. Would there be a place where they could hide the rest of their lives?

But this kingdom needed their princess. They needed this kind and fair princess to be their queen one day, to be the one who would restore this land. People loved their princess, and they would wait… Shinichi couldn’t be selfish enough to steal their hope.

So instead, he let himself smile a little. “Well, I can take you somewhere when you have some free time.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s not the same”, she said and stepped closer to him. He didn’t move, not even when she stood in front of him, so close to him. Both of her hands laid on his chest and Shinichi was so sure that she would feel his heart beating fast. And even if her closeness isn’t enough, she raised her face and he met her bright light purple eyes, red lips, pink cheeks…

“I would have loved to be with you... See those fireworks with you.”

Somewhere in his head, there was a voice that said not to fell for it. The voice reminded him that if he wouldn't give up on this now, it would be much harder later when the time comes. It reminded him that he should just do his check-up and leave.

But his heart said that he should just continue. He should just go for it, enjoy what they still got...

And even if it wasn't his heart that would fight against his brains, he still got his weaknesses. And when it came to Ran… Voice of reason never won. He was never strong enough. Never.

His hands found her lower back and while he closed that little gap between them, he lowered enough to meet those red, soft lips against his. Those lips which he has stolen too many times before, lips which he wanted to keep only himself. Lips that could become his early death. Lips that he should leave to someone else.

He never was able to turn around and leave.

Shinichi withdrew from the kiss a little, his lips touching hers when he spoke: "I would have loved that too."

#ShinRanWeek2021 #ShinRan #Day 3: Black Knight & Princess #Black Knight #Princess Ran #Au #Detective Conan #Shinichi Kudo #Ran Mouri

62 notes · View notes

ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 3 years

Text

Let Me Get Close To You

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “wrong number” square. I sat down to write this a couple of days ago & just couldn’t stop - I hope you guys enjoy the cute little verse I created (that I’ll more than likely revisit soon!!). Here’s my bingo card - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 7K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Summary:

Stuck with the worst professor for Nuclear Science, Peter tries to vent his frustrations to Ned - only to send a desperate text message to Tony Stark, instead. When an immediate spark and so many things in common make it easy for Peter to fall further for the elegant genius, what’s the worst that could really happen?

Or: the one where Peter texts the wrong number & romance ensues.

Read on AO3 here.

----

Fuming from a frustrating Nuclear Science class, Peter maturely stomped his way out of the engineering building. They were only two weeks into the semester and the old man already had Peter on edge. His major revolved around the class and his ability to get the most out of the information. The dinosaur that stood at the front of the lecture hall every day hadn’t had an original thought since the 90s and refused to see when others did. Much like every old white man, Dr. Milner’s ideas were the be all end all of a science that changed by the millisecond.

Still pretty new to campus after a late sophomore year transfer, Peter didn’t have many people to turn to that weren’t his nerdy and standoffish teammates on the Academic Decathlon team – most of those guys lived in a world a couple steps from the norm, happily keeping to themselves. Though Peter existed there eighty percent of the time, his need to be social and fill a space in the real world made it impossible to commit to that sort of isolation fully. Straddling the line made it difficult to exist on either side – Peter’s favorite pieces of himself were what kept people away, no matter the lifestyle.

With his mind so heavy with all sorts of negativity, Peter suddenly found himself homesick; he spent so much of his life trying to escape the streets of New York – so far from home now, Peter missed them desperately. Thinking about his tangible connection to his favorite urban wasteland, Peter pulled his phone out and hastily typed in Ned’s new number.

Peter Parker [1:23PM]: Hi, I hate it here. Peter Parker [1:24PM]: Dr. Milner is out to get free thinkers. I may not survive the next fourteen weeks.

Peter already felt a little better after typing the words – the mere ability to get one of his many worries off his chest did wonders. Until his phone pinged with a new text message notification, of course.

Nimble fingers pulled the phone from his pocket, his eyes carelessly looking over the screen as it unlocked. Expecting to see Ned’s name there, Peter almost threw the phone to the ground when Siri’s suggestion registered.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:26PM]: Hi stranger! I think this was meant for someone else, but I too think Dr. Milner is out to squash any new idea that doesn’t fit the mold. In his forty-year career, he hasn’t changed a bit.

Another text message was below it, but Peter forced himself to stop reading – his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest already, too much excitement at once couldn’t be good. Out of all the numbers he could’ve accidentally typed, Tony Stark, New York’s genius and resident beauty, Peter’s secret (though not so much) crush, ended up on the other side of the line. The unbelievability of the idea made Peter consider a well thought out prank. Then again, how did any of his fellow classmates know Tony Stark’s personal number?

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter made himself look at the second text message waiting unread.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:27PM]: I’m not sure how you got this number, but I sincerely hope you make it out alive. If you’re in Milner’s class, you’re on the Nuclear track, which means you must be smart. Trust me, the world needs your future contributions, whatever they might be.

Peter gripped the phone a little harder after reading through the second message over and over again. He let his eyes take in each of the words, wondering, if it really was Tony Stark, how anyone ever survived talking to him. In so few sentences, Peter already felt discombobulated, both more confident and turned around than just seconds before. Aside from his infatuation with the man, Peter understood Tony Stark’s contributions to the technology community and the world at large more than most.

It took him a few minutes to convince himself to text back – every time he tried to type something, his fingers froze just centimeters above the screen. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask to make sure he wasn’t getting catfished. Instead, Peter took the direct route, his courage obviously all or nothing in the face of something as big as an accidental interaction with Tony Stark.

Peter Parker [1:35PM]: Holy crap – excuse me for the bluntness, but is this really Tony Stark? Siri doesn’t often get things wrong, especially since I souped her up. But I’m sure you can understand the apprehension. Peter Parker [1:37PM]: Would you be up for answering a few questions just to make sure?

The tip of his finger tapped against the screen impatiently after he hit the send button, his nerves and the not-so-subtle excitement were barely contained under the surface of his skin. He couldn’t remember a time where feeling alive was so prominent.

A smile slipped across his lips when, a moment later, three consecutive texts vibrated Peter’s phone in succession.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:40PM]: You souped up Siri? Steve Jobs is probably turning over in his grave right now. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:41PM]: I think I’m the one that should be asking the questions, don’t you think? How did you even get this number, Peter Parker? It’s a private line. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:42PM]: I am, though – Tony Stark, I mean.

Peter Parker [1:45PM]: Reconfiguring tech is kind of my thing. I used to dumpster dive in high school – you’d be surprised by the cool pieces of technology people put in their trash. Peter Parker [1:46PM]: Oh, bringing out the big guns – I’m happy to see Siri without my latest addition works for others, too. Peter Parker [1:47PM]: It was an accident, sending those first texts to you. My friend in New York just started a new job that came with a paid phone. I still haven’t saved the number. You are one off from him. Peter Parker [1:48PM]: Alright, Tony Stark. Tell me what campus I’m on.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:53PM]: I’m not surprised by anything human beings do, especially in New York City. Throwing out a perfectly good iPod is certainly not the weirdest thing I’ve heard of. Did you make anything interesting in your trash conversion adventures? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:54PM]: You talk a big game, Mr. Parker. Can you walk the walk, too? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:55PM]: He must be on my payroll, then. The bank of numbers my employees have come from my personal network. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:57PM]: That’s an easy one. You’re at MIT – Milner was there when I was a student. The only thing that’s probably different between then and now is the amount of hair the old bag has.

Peter Parker [2:01PM]: You’re not wrong, Mr. Stark. I made things that helped me be self-sufficient. I grew up really poor and couldn’t afford the things everyone else had – so I figured out how all the tech worked and made my own. I’ve been using a ten-year-old iPhone for ages. Peter Parker [2:03PM]: You bet. Are you challenging me? Peter Parker [2:04PM]: He is, actually. He started in an entry level position two weeks ago. Peter Parker [2:06PM]: It’s gross, isn’t it? I’m glad we’ve moved past projectors in the classroom – the hair on his hand would make for a distracting shadow. Peter Parker [2:07PM]: Okay, okay. I think I’m convinced. One more test, though – send me a picture.

Maybe – Tony Stark [2:14PM]: Oh boy, none of that Mr. Stark shit. As far as you’re concerned, I’m Tony. Only Tony. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:15PM]: You made your own. That’s – impressive. I’m impressed and more than a little curious. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:17PM]: Challenging you, no. Enticing you, yes. I’m visiting Cambridge to do a guest lecture series next week. Come see what Stark Industries is up to – I’d love to hear what you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:18PM]: It was as bad as you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:20PM]: Okay, Peter Parker. [IMAGE ATTACHED]

A gasp of shock left Peter’s mouth when he opened the last text to find a smirking Tony Stark looking right at him. To prove the time and date, Tony held up the New York Times, his free hand pointing to the headline Peter read on his phone earlier that morning. After the shock of actually talking to Tony Stark wore off, Peter let himself take in the picture and all of its details.

Tony’s desk was largely visible in the shot – pens and stacks of paper littered the surface, a few rogue pieces of tech ready to be fiddled with acted as paper weights and grungy aesthetic. The man himself was breath taking – his glasses were a deep violet, offset beautifully by the crisp white shirt and black waistcoat covering Tony’s upper body. A light purple tie was loosely knotted at his throat, as if he fiddled with it while working just to keep his hands busy.

Without much thought, Peter saved the photo and added Tony to his contacts before replying – there was no reason not to trust the man, the spark in his shiny hazel eyes seemed to genuine and real to even question.

Peter Parker [2:25PM]: Only Tony, got it. Peter Parker [2:26PM]: Curiosity is good – keeps you fresh and on your toes. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: Oh, I see. You want a chance to impress me. I like that. Not sure what my opinion is going to do for you, but I’ll be happy to share it. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: Gross. Peter Parker [2:30PM]: I’m – you’re… Wow. You really are Tony Stark.

Tony Stark [2:37PM]: I think you’ll have no problems keeping me on my toes, Peter. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: I have a feeling your opinion is one that I’ll be very interested in. You’ve been nothing but blunt this entire conversation, I know I’m getting the real deal stuff. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: I am. I really am Tony Stark. Tony Stark [2:41PM]: It’s your turn, Peter Parker. What face belongs to that beautiful brain of yours?

Forcing himself to breath, Peter looked around the room for the best spot to return the favor. The bed was a hard no, he didn’t want to send the wrong vibe to a person who could easily have whomever they wanted. His desk was small, but meticulously organized – his study materials open and ready for a night of reviewing the only thing obscuring the surface. It was obvious Tony appreciated his brain, it seemed pertinent to take advantage.

After a few attempts, Peter found the perfect angle to catch the light in his eyes, making them shine brightly in the camera. He thanked the clothing gods that he chose a well fitted three-button Henley in his haste to get out the door that morning. The feeling of satisfaction was new, but not unwelcome – he wanted to send Tony the photo; for once, he knew it would impress.

Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Keeping implies longevity. Are you planning on sticking around? Peter Parker [2:56PM]: My brain to mouth filter runs at less than 10% at all times. It has brought me more trouble than shutting up ever would. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: You’re gorgeous. Violet is a nice color on you. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: What do you think? [IMAGE ATTACHED]

Tony Stark [ 2:37PM]: Yes. I think that’s the answer to that question. You’ve presented a puzzle I want to solve. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: Shutting up never got anyone anywhere. The noise we create is what shapes us. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: Thank you – I have a lot of it in my wardrobe. Tony Stark [2:44PM]: & you called me gorgeous; Peter Parker, you’re a stunner.

Peter Parker [2:51PM]: You’re a scientist, you do that for a living. What makes me so different? Peter Parker [2:52PM]: That’s a refreshing opinion. I like the way you think, Only Tony. Peter Parker [2:54PM]: That honestly doesn’t surprise me. Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Do you tell the person who made you blush that you’re blushing? I don’t remember that standard operating procedure.

Tony Stark [3:01PM]: My intrigue is of a personal nature only – the puzzle you pose is of a different sort. Usually, I think and think and think until I solve whatever the problem is. With you, I want to gather all the clues and take it apart piece by piece. Tony Stark [3:02PM]: That’s a little heavy for only knowing each other a couple of hours, but when you know, you know. Tony Stark [3:03PM]: Not usually, but I have a feeling you’re an exception to a lot of things, Peter Parker.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Peter continued to exchange flirty text messages back and forth with Tony – the mood stayed open and easy as the time passed. The older man helped Peter get through Nuclear Dynamics and three hours of decathlon practice. For all the brains Tony had, Peter was surprised to find humor and a bit of insecurity, too. Tony let himself go on tangents and make dad jokes that were a step away from being obscene.

That trend continued for the rest of the week and well into the weekend. By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Peter knew Tony’s schedule, half the newest late-night discoveries, and the way Mr. Sweet Tooth took his sugary coffee. Though a line of attraction and want existed, Peter was happy to know Tony as a person without the ability to act on the obvious tension between them. And while he appreciated the wholistic way they were coming to know each other, Peter couldn’t wait to see Tony throughout the week, either.

The older man seemed to share his sentiment – the shrill notification of a text message received pulled Peter out of his thoughts.

Tony Stark [7:30PM]: Hey, Pete! I present at 5:30 tomorrow afternoon. Want to grab something to eat afterwards? Tony Stark [7:31PM]: I’m impatient to get back to Hogan’s and thought you might appreciate his culinary prowess.

Peter Parker [7:35PM]: Tony – this is the fourth time you’ve reminded me about your presentation. I’ll be there. For dinner, too. Peter Parker [7:36PM]: Culinary prowess; if it merits that title, I’m sure it’ll be worth it.

Tony Stark [7:42PM]: I know – I just get some performance anxiety. It helps to remind myself that you’re going to be there. Tony Stark [7:43PM]: It is. Hap is an old friend of mine. He left MIT to go make his restaurant dreams happen and has been stupidly happy ever since.

Peter Parker [7:47PM]: I get it – I’ll gladly be your security blanket, Tony. Peter Parker [7:48PM]: Something tells me there’s more to that story, but I’m sure you’ll tell me one day. I’m excited to try it. Should I look up the menu beforehand, or let it be a surprise?

Tony Stark [7:55PM]: I like the sound of that. I’ve pictured having you in my arms often. Tony Stark [7:57PM]: There’s always more to the story, Pete. Let it be a surprise! In fact, I’ll order for you to make sure you get the whole newbie experience.

Peter Parker [8:05PM]: I’ll boldly say you can have me in your arms as often as you like. Peter Parker [8:06PM]: The newbie experience – there hasn’t been a time in my life where that’s been a good thing. Peter Parker [8:07PM]: Yet. Surprisingly – I trust you.

The next day went by quickly – Peter took a quiz in Nuclear Science and dug into his other two classes to keep his mind focused on anything other than Tony’s imminent presence. His last class was a core history class, so he gladly tucked into the reading the professor let them loose to do. The chime of his alarm broke through Peter’s fog a couple pages from the end of his assignment. Though he liked to be ahead, Peter gladly took the extra few minutes to get himself together before heading to MIT’s presentation hall.

Decked out in his finest pair of black jeans, a blue denim short-sleeve button down, and solid black high-top Converse on his feet, Peter walked the few minutes it took to get back onto campus from his small apartment. Unsurprisingly, a line was formed out the door of students hoping to get into the presentation last minute. Tony told him earlier in the week that they waited to advertise his appearance until the a few hours before to stop the masses from flocking. To Peter, the time restriction seemed to only make it worse.

In Tony’s excitement to have Peter there, the older man set aside a ticket for him – instead of joining the line like he might’ve without Tony’s insistence, Peter walked straight into the cool auditorium, snagging a seat at the end of a row located dead center in the auditorium. The vantage point was perfect – Peter wouldn’t have any trouble catching Tony’s eye as he spoke. Grinning at his access to such a simple pleasure, Peter relaxed back into the seat, passing the time until Tony took the stage by watching the crowd flood in around him.

It wasn’t long before the lights were dimming and a sweaty, high ranking alumnus gave Tony Stark a mediocre welcome onto the stage. The crowd broke out into a cheer that more than made up for the old man’s subpar words. Tony timed his entrance perfectly; he walked out as the energy rose, the shift in the crowd’s tension working to enhance everyone’s excitement. Peter found himself glued to the man, who until that moment, existed entirely on the other side of the phone – he didn’t want to miss a single second of full-body absorption.

A black suit coat sat snuggly on Tony’s shoulders, a singular button keeping the sides closed. His dark hair was elegantly styled, the bed-head look enhancing the easy-going style Peter knew Tony strived for. The facial hair Peter came to truly appreciate over the last few days of texting drew attention to his sharp cheekbones. Tony seemed genuinely happy to be there if the beaming smile on his face said anything at all. With a few claps and the corniest joke, the older man got the crowd under control, proceeding onto his speech with an effortless transition.

As expected, Peter found himself interested from the very beginning. Tony’s new work on energy and its uses amongst transportation and city overhaul was ingenious – when things got up and running, New York’s power grid would run completely on sustainable energy. So many thoughts flashed across the front of Peter’s mind – he wondered if Tony would let him take a look at the blueprints. He might not have much to contribute, yet Peter understood the opportunity for learning and development when it presented itself.

By the end of Tony’s presentation, Peter was overjoyed to know that he wouldn’t need to feign interest in the topics Tony brought to the table. For a while, Stark Industries went through a slump of working on weapons and junky tech Peter found in the trash more often than he ever wanted to admit. It felt good to be excited about something new coming from the company – Tony Stark was the smartest person in his field, anything less than almost perfect just didn’t do the man and his ideas justice.

After fielding a lot more questions than Peter expected, Tony headed off the stage with a roar of applause – the genius wasn’t a household name for nothing. Smiling at the thought, Peter pulled his phone out; he got to see behind the curtain more than others – he felt a sudden surge of gratefulness at the fact. Every person around him would do anything for the privilege; taking that for granted just wouldn’t do.

Peter Parker [6:45PM]: You’re an incredible public speaker, Tony. Peter Parker [6:46PM]: Thanks for making me come!

Tony Stark [6:49PM]: How inappropriate of me is it to say that this isn’t the only time I plan to make you come?

Peter Parker [6:55PM]: Very, but it’s appreciated, nonetheless. I’ll meet you over by the Engineering building whenever you’re done trying to outrun your fans.

Tony Stark [7:00PM]: You’re fucking hilarious. I’ll meet you there in five.

True to his word, Tony snuck up behind Peter a few minutes later – soft palms that gave way to well-earned callouses pressed against Peter’s cheeks as Tony covered his eyes. The mere fact that Tony was there at all was surprise enough; the touches and softly whispered “Hello, Pete,” in his ear felt like more than enough to cause a coronary.

Shaking his head to clear it, Peter turned in Tony’s arms, a huge grin playing across his lips. With the way they were standing now, Peter’s chest was pressed delightfully against Tony’s – he felt each and every one of Tony’s inhales of oxygen and exhales of carbon dioxide that brought Peter’s attention to the firm muscles pressing and pulling the man’s abdomen. His breath caught when Tony palmed his cheek, their mouths mere inches apart. Despite not actually knowing each other, Peter felt comfortable in Tony’s embrace.

“Hey, Tony,” Peter finally replied after allowing his breath to mingle with Tony’s. As they stood there pressed together, neither could decipher where one started and the other began. The thought made his grin grow a little wider, the courage inside of him pulsing a little more boldly with life. “You were amazing up there.”

Tony remained perfectly still; his limbs seemingly frozen in a clench to keep Peter close to him. His grip was firm, both the hand on Peter’s hip and his late day stubbled cheek. Like the man himself, Tony’s touch left something behind that kept Peter on the hook, always seeking more. He half expected for Tony to lean in and slot their lips together – his deepest desires and tangible wants were starting to collide in such close proximity.

Instead, Peter’s smile was returned with quirked cheeks and bright hazel eyes. “You weren’t too bored?” Tony asked, his voice soft in the small space between them. His thumb swiped constantly across Peter’s cheek, the obvious need to move apparent, even in such an intimate situation.

Chuckling lightly, Peter shook his head. “So far from bored. My thesis research is all about sustainable energy – you had me interested from the very beginning,” Peter replied almost immediately, not caring that his excitement clearly shone through in the pitch of his voice. The way he was leaning into Tony’s touch, Peter didn’t have much of a chance to disguise his truth, anyway.

“You’re so much smarter than you give yourself credit for – I can tell already.” Tony’s words were mumbled almost as if the older man was embarrassed to say them – to hand out such a compliment to someone other than himself. And yet – Tony’s hesitation made the statement mean so much more; the rarity of such kind words (despite being spoken so softly) did nothing but make Peter want to melt into Tony even further.

Before things could get too mushy or physical, Peter took a large step out of Tony’s arms – begrudgingly, the need for space was prominent if they ever wanted the night to continue. Never mind the fact that paparazzi were constantly hounding and following Tony wherever the man went. Though he was deemed an appropriate companion at the time, Peter was more than sure the public would not agree.

With that thought in mind, Peter shot Tony a shy smile – “I’m pretty famished. Want to show me what Hogan’s is all about?”

They spent the ten-minute walk talking about the presentation – Tony grilled Peter about a few of the technical parts, while Peter drooled a little bit over the projected uses of Tony’s new energy storage and production. Like two nerdy peas in a pod, neither could help themselves – geeking out and talking about something they were both interested in made the rest of the world melt away. Peter might’ve kept on his tangent if it weren’t for a tall, thickly built man clearing his throat.

Looking up at the noise, Peter realized they’d walked a few blocks already and were standing in the lobby of a well-maintained hole in the wall that radiated the most delicious smells. Grease and cheese and freshly dropped French fries hit his senses all at once – there was no doubt that whatever they were about to consume would be more than delicious.

Peter was seconds away from wiping drool from his chin when Tony broke out into action. He took the couple of steps between their current position and the hostess stand to wrap who could only be Happy in a firm, breathtaking hug. “Happy, my man. It’s so good to see you,” Tony exclaimed as he stepped away, an adorable look in his eyes. “I’ve been talking this place up to Peter here, thought I’d cash in on your good will.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Peter – Tony looked at him like something he couldn’t wait to deconstruct, while Happy tilted his head curiously, as if the one glance would tell him all he needed to know about Peter Parker. Unwillingly to stand there like an animal on display, Peter broke through the weird with a soft laugh and a light wave.

“Nice to meet you, Happy. Tony’s been selling me on your food for days now. I can’t wait to try it,” Peter said, his shoulders rolling back to help him stand a little taller. Though he had nothing to prove to the total stranger in front of him, Peter couldn’t help but want to make a good impression – Happy obviously meant something to Tony; their comradery and easy affection said that without much effort.

There was a moment where all three guys seemed to look between each other – Peter watched with bated breath as Tony and Happy carried on a silent conversation with just a few blinks and forehead crinkles. By the time Peter understood what was happening, Happy stepped a little closer to him, his big hand reaching out for what could only be a handshake. Without hesitating, Peter took it – for whatever reason, the handshake felt monumental; like with the one touch, he beat the level boss and gained access to the next one.

“Good to meet you, too. Tony’s good about that sort of advertisement – we probably wouldn’t have made it without his ugly mug around at the beginning,” Happy replied. “You guys know what you want? I’ll get it on the grill personally.”

At that point, Tony stepped back into the spotlight and grabbed the reins – he ordered everything at rapid fire speed, like the menu existed as a hard copy in Tony’s mind. Considering the warmth of the older man’s welcome and Happy’s cryptic words, Peter didn’t doubt that Tony was a regular – more than likely a founding customer, even.

It took no time at all for their food to come out to the small table in the corner Tony led him to. The tray was piled with an abundance of food – cheese steaks, fries, burgers, even a couple of desserts littered the table as Tony unpacked their haul. Peter’s eyes were wide, his mouth watering with a want that only Zap’s Bodega could illicit before. “This – it all looks amazing,” Peter babbled, his stomach both hungry and overwhelmed by everything in front of him.

“Just wait until you taste it. Happy used to crank out these cheesesteaks on the little hot plate we had in our dorm room. They were excellent, but the addition of the flattop has made them unbeatable.”

Unable to decide what smelled the best, Peter grabbed whatever was nearest to him. His fingers wrapped around the greasy paper of the aforementioned cheesesteak, his mouth watering even more. “So, you and Happy were roommates at MIT?” Peter asked around a large bite, the food in his mouth muffling some of the words. It really was good – worth looking like a pig in front of the most beautiful man alive.

“Hap and I go way back. His father worked security at Stark Industries – he was on my dad’s personal protection team for most of my life. When Happy’s mom died and the need for babysitting became a thing, Happy started to spend the evenings with me after school. In a lot of ways, he’s the only family I’ve ever had. When he first opened up this place, I was young and just looking for some investment that would piss my dad off. I knew Happy had talent, but neither of us thought this place would blow up the way it did.” Tony looked up then, a vulnerability in his eyes. “We’ve been in business together ever since.”

Smiling encouragingly, Peter nodded in Tony’s direction – their closeness, Tony’s unwavering advertisement and protectiveness, even some of the food names he could see on the menu; it all made sense. After taking another bite of the cheesesteak, Peter chewed slowly before responding. “There’s always more to the story, right?” he questioned cheekily. “It sounds like your gamble worked out for you – I didn’t look at the menu, but I did Google Hogan’s; there’s ten locations within a 300-mile radius.”

A snort had Peter looking up, his eyebrows quirked. “I should’ve known,” Tony said through a laugh. “Your generation is all about instant gratification.”

Their eyes locked then, Tony’s words and their meaning sitting in the space between them. Peter forced himself not to blink – he wanted to memorize the rich hazel color that barely ringed a growing pupil. Hunger and want and something unrecognizable existed in Tony’s glance; when it was all over and Tony moved on, Peter desperately wanted to remember the genuine rawness he drew out of one of the world’s greatest minds.

“Or just impatience,” Peter countered. He drew his eyes away, needing to break the glance to stop himself from propelling himself across the table and tackle Tony to the ground. Though it looked as if Happy kept the place spick and span, Peter didn’t want to think about Tony’s expensive suit on any other floor aside from his own.

They attempted to pull the small talk back to something a little tamer, but the road of the rest of the evening had already been paved. It became harder to focus on anything other than the thick press of Tony’s thigh against his own under the table. As the minutes passed, Peter noticed Tony staring, and after a while, the older man just never stopped. Every time he looked up, Peter caught hazel eyes taking him in – undressing him button by button with the sheer want in his eyes. A red blush took up permanent residence on Peter’s cheeks and neck, the color following him out of the restaurant and out onto the street where Tony took his hand without hesitation.

Before his mom passed away, Peter remembered a softly mumbled conversation laying across both his parents early, early in the morning. His dad’s big fingers were wrapped so neatly around his mother’s, the embrace tight, despite the hour. Peter reached out to touch the unbreakable seam, his eyes wide with wonder. “They fit,” Peter whispered softly, his finger running reverently over their joint fingers.

His mother pulled him close then, her lips finding that special place on his cheek. “One day, Petey, you’ll find that perfect person whose hands will fit yours just the way your father’s fit mine.”

A warmth settled in Peter’s chest as he slid his hand into Tony’s, their fingers interlacing perfectly with ease. The immaculate fit of Tony’s hand pressing against his own made him snuggle in further – whatever happened between them after this, Peter would forever know how easily he and Tony Stark fit together.

Giving Tony’s fingers a squeeze at the thought, Peter looked up, breaking the silence – “Do you want to see my apartment? I’m sure it’s not nearly as fancy as the hotel you’re staying at, but I’ve got Netflix and a really comfortable couch.”

Tony took a few long strides to answer, his face a little pensive. “I’d love to see your apartment, Pete,” Tony replied easily. They came to a stop at the crosswalk – Tony used his momentum to pull Peter close to his chest while they waited out the light. “I don’t care about fancy. You’ll be there.”

While Peter had lots of things to reply, his words were cut off by slightly chapped lips eagerly pressing against his own. It took Peter a second to recognize what in the glorious hell was happening – when the reality of the situation finally registered, Peter surged forward, tilting his head to not only return the kiss, but deepen it.

Both of Peter’s hands found their way around Tony’s neck to keep him close – he felt like he might pass out from the sheer goodness of Tony surrounding him without the grounding touch. He was far from a virgin, but none of his previous encounters knocked him off his feet in such a way that made Peter feel like a fumbling newbie.

Sipping from each other’s mouths, Peter was surprised by a strange and unrecognizable voice coming from behind them – “the light’s changed, fellas.”

It took an obscene amount of effort to pull away – though the stranger’s words made his face burn with embarrassment, Peter was reluctant to step out of Tony’s embrace and the tantalizing press of warm lips against his own. Regardless of his trepidation, Peter reluctantly moved back.

He made sure to slip his hand into Tony’s before they set off again.

“I’m just another couple of blocks away,” Peter reassured, a hungry smirk on his face. Tony returned the look, their stride all of the sudden lengthening. Their walk turned from a leisurely stroll to a brisk half-run. If it weren’t for the want raging through Peter’s veins, he might’ve found the change hilarious. In all of their time together, Tony never expressed impatience – he always seemed calm, cool, and collected. Yet, in the face of heat and need and the promise of bare skin, Tony let that mask drop.

Happy to know a new something about Tony, Peter reveled in the pent-up silence that carried them back to his apartment. Snagging a ground floor unit close to the entrance, they luckily didn’t have to wait for an elevator or awkwardly pretend that they weren’t about to push the other against the wall and start ravaging whatever pieces of skin they could find. Instead, Peter impatiently pulled Tony behind him as they walked between building 1 and 2 with eager steps.

After some fumbling and a set of dropped keys, Peter finally got his door open and Tony through it. Without missing a beat, Tony pushed him back against the newly closed front door, their lips harshly joining. Groaning at the contact and suddenness of it all, Peter pulled Tony in – any space left between them was unacceptable now that they were in a private space where wandering eyes and clicking cameras couldn’t see. Their obvious passion was too much for the public eye; Peter so desperately wanted to keep Tony to himself – devouring him in a safe space was only the first step.

As Tony traced his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, Peter fumbled his hands down the older man’s chest until he could pull the crisp button-down from well-tailored pants. The second he was able, Peter shoved his hands under the soft fabric, his palms greedily pressing into Tony’s hairy chest. A groan left his mouth – the chest hair under his fingers was soft and teasing. Peter was caught between the urge to tug at the strands and lay his head gently against them just to feel the texture against his skin.

Tony made the decision for him – large hands were suddenly on Peter’s waist, his feet coming up off the ground with little effort. Unable to keep his hands where they were, Peter broke the kiss with a groan and shifted until he could wrap his legs around Tony’s hips. Peter panted for breath while his lips were still free as Tony navigated through the room blindly. Another soft moan left Peter’s lips when his back hit the pliable leather of his couch.

Where just moments before they were standing chest to chest, Peter now had the full weight of Tony against him. The older man fit seamlessly between his splayed thighs, their hips lining up in a way that made Peter’s cock pulse against the confines of his tight jeans. With a bit of shifting, their groins were matched – Tony’s thick cock felt sinful against Peter’s. If his impending orgasm was already upon him, Peter wondered what it’d be like when their clothes hit the floor and he really got to taste what Tony had to offer.

Like he was reading his mind, Tony made quick work of the buttons on Peter’s shirt. Calloused hands dragged up and down Peter’s bare chest as he pushed the navy fabric to the side – his skin was practically hairless, the only exception being a small trail of it leading down to the v of his jeans. Tony let his fingers play through that small amount of hair, his fingers teasing as they got closer to the one spot that Peter wanted him to be the most.

Deciding to take his mind off of the heat in his belly and the closeness of his orgasm, Peter returned the favor. His hands were shaky as he passed button after button through their holes. With a gasp, Peter spread the sides of Tony’s shirt to get the maximum impact of the older man’s torso. He liked what he felt before, but the view was something else – Tony’s chest was chiseled and cut, his pecs and abs straining with effort. Peter noticed throbbing veins and a few scars in his perusal; the evidence of Tony’s life and the way he lived it made Peter pull the man a little closer. Tony Stark drove him absolutely mad – every new thing he learned contributed to the insanity even more.

Before he could get lost in the thought, Tony’s lips were skating along his cheek, only to stop and caress the outer shell of Peter’s ear. “You feel amazing, Pete,” Tony babbled, his tongue peeking out to join in on the fun. “I want to taste you, feel your cock pulse against my tongue. You’re so fucking hard and I can’t fucking wait. Is that okay?”

Peter pulled back then, a soft grin pulling at his lips. In all of his sexual encounters, Peter couldn’t recall someone caring about him so thoroughly, let alone stopping to ask how he felt. Both hands came up to grip Tony’s cheeks until the older man was looking right at him. Through the haze of arousal, Peter recognized that warm spark in Tony’s eye – it was the look in that first picture that kept Peter coming back for more.

“It’s perfect, Tony. I’ll take anything you want to give me,” Peter said breathlessly. He leaned up for a kiss to drive the words home.

Tony looked genuinely happy when Peter pulled away – his cheeks were flushed with obvious arousal, his lips quirked in a saucy smile. Without saying anything, Tony nodded his head and travelled slowly down the length of Peter’s body. Nimble fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans before Peter could think or even draw his next breath.

Sturdy hands didn’t hesitate to pull at the waistband of Peter’s boxers – his flushed cock was already leaking as it came to rest casually against the firm abs of Peter’s chest. Tony’s calloused fingers immediately wrapped around the length, giving a tight squeeze to the base. The sheer feeling of his crush’s hands on him was almost enough for Peter to jump straight over the edge. Catching Tony’s eyes and biting down on his bottom lip was his only saving grace – the knowing look in beautiful hazel eyes pulled a chuckle from Peter’s chest, the noise distraction enough.

“Okay?” Tony asked again, the words were spoken with his mouth hovering just inches from the pulsing flesh of Peter’s cock. He could feel Tony’s breath against his sensitive skin, everything about the situation making it hard to articulate or think or exist as anything other than a melted puddle of goo against broken-in leather.

Peter took a couple of deep breaths before nodding vigorously. He felt a red flush travel even further down his neck and torso, arousal and embarrassment mixing together to create the ultimate aphrodisiac. He finally found his voice, muttering a choked off “yes” before the motor function of speaking left him once more.

After a heartbeat and then another where neither man moved, Tony gripped the sharp bones of Peter’s hips, pushing his lower body down against the cushions. They shared another look as Tony lowered his head, his pink tongue poking out to lick lightly against the leaky head of Peter’s cock. Hazel eyes stayed on him – Tony continued to lap along his sensitive skin, all while killing Peter slowly with the heat and want reflecting back. By the time Tony had all of Peter in his mouth, Peter was seconds away from being undone.

It’d been so long, and he’d wanted Tony since he understood what attraction was. Being pinned down by the person he desired longer than some of his friendships did nothing but magnify everything that was happening. His skin felt like it was on fire under Tony’s touch – the suction around his cock felt like it was coming from all angles, everywhere, all at once. Unable to stop himself, Peter moaned, panted, and shamelessly shouted Tony’s name as the blissful seconds passed.

The telling zip of a zipper being pushed down, and Tony’s hasty shift told Peter that Tony was similarly affected. He picked up his head to watch Tony suck his cock down while his right hand moved at the same pace – while he took Peter’s cock into his throat, Tony was stroking his own erection with sure strokes. As if the heat around him wasn’t enough, the beautiful visual of Tony taking his own pleasure pushed him those last couple of steps over the edge.

Bubbling heat in his belly boiled over. Peter frantically reached down to grip Tony’s shoulder, his mouth wordlessly shaping around warning words. “I’m – I’m… fuck, Tony. I’m going to cum,” Peter finally managed to gasp out. There was just enough time for Tony to pull away, to let Peter’s pleasure splatter on the blood warm skin of Peter’s stomach. Yet, Tony held fast, instead – he redoubled his efforts, his lips tightening and throat relaxing in invitation.

Unable to stop himself, Peter let go – his hips thrust up into Tony’s enticing heat, the man’s name dripping from his lips as pulse after pulse of cum left his body. Tony moaned around him, swallowing easily without pulling his mouth away or stopping his ministrations. The suction continued until Peter was reaching down halfheartedly to push at Tony’s soft curls.

While he caught his breath, Tony crawled up Peter’s body, a self-satisfied smirk on his red cheeks. Peter grinned at him, happiness and satiation rolling off of him in waves. Without thought, Peter pulled Tony tightly to him, their lips finding each other like opposite poles of magnets drawn together by the sheer force of nature. Tony shared Peter’s taste with him, his talented tongue thrusting into Peter’s mouth with a shared groan between them. It was all so hot; Peter felt his spent cock already starting to come back to life.

With that thought in mind, Peter started to reach down to help Tony finish achieving his own pleasure; yet his hand was batted away with affectionate finesse. Peter shifted until he could meet the honey hazels he was already addicted to, a question in his eye.

“There’s no need,” Tony mumbled, his face tucking into the skin of Peter’s neck. “You’re so sexy, I couldn’t help but touch myself. The way you look in the throes of pleasure – it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“Holy shit.”

Tony chuckled at the awe in Peter’s voice. “My sentiment exactly.”

For a while, they stayed stretched out on Peter’ couch, exchanging kisses and greedy touches on all the bare skin either could reach. Without so much adrenaline coursing through his system, Peter felt himself melting even further into the comfy cushions below him. After a jaw breaking yawn, Peter reached up to cup Tony’s cheek, pulling the man’s attention towards him.

“Want to stay over?” Peter asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Though they were spent and wrapped up in each other, Peter wasn’t sure where Tony stood. There was a big difference between the type of intimacy physical touch and sleeping next to another human being required. The last few days, Peter fell asleep with Tony’s messages open on the bed next to him – actually sleeping side by side, in person, that was a whole new step for them.

Tilting his head to the side, Tony shot Peter a tender smile before nodding and leaning down to press their lips together.

“Yeah, Pete – I want to stay.”

#starker #starkerfestivalsevents #starker festivals summer bingo #bobbie writes #let me get close to #peter parker/tony stark #starker fic #sfsummerbingo21

58 notes · View notes