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fandom-smut-shots · 7 months

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I'm Sorry Kiss - Katsuki Bakugo

A/N: Based on a dream I had where I got into a fight with Bakugo and ended up in the hospital. I know that Bakugo rejecting someone because he wants to focus on being a hero is kinda overdone but it was the first thing I thought of and I tried to embellish it. Also, I know that Dynamight is his official hero name, but I refuse because I like Ground Zero better. Gender neutral!reader. PS, I generally suck at fight scenes, and I’ve never written for any of the pros before, so I apologize if anything seems off. Words: 3,410

“Bakugo… I like you.”

Bakugo Katsuki stared at the confession in his hands. The letter was long, nearly three pages front-to-back, and the paper was beginning to wrinkle from the intensity of his grip.

How did this happen?

You’d insisted upon befriending Bakugo during first year, despite having been placed in class 1-B and therefore hardly getting to spend time with the blond. You found ways around that; sparring sessions, homework nights, even the occasional movie night in the 1-A common room. You’d spent so much time around Bakugo that they’d adopted you as an honorary classmate, and they were ready to crown you royalty when you’d shown up for one particular game night with the explosive blond in tow. You’d become friends – close friends. Bakugo supposed he hadn’t minded that. But now, here you stood, two years later, presenting him with a letter of your true feelings.

“Uh… Bakugo?”

How could you let that happen? How could he?

“I’m going to be the number one hero,” he murmured gruffly, refusing to meet your eyes. The spark of hope that sat in your chest flickered weakly in response to his tone. You’d spend enough time around Bakugo to know his moods from a single grunt, and right now, he didn’t sound particularly enthused.

“I’m going to be number one,” he repeated. “I can’t do that if I let extras like you weigh me down.”

The flame in your chest was extinguished in an instant, suffocated by the stomp of Ground Zero’s boot. “Bakugo, I-“

“I don’t want to hear it,” he grumbled. His voice was low, nearly unrecognizable. It was a tone you’d never heard from him.

“Just go,” he growled, turning away from you. All you could do was stare at his back as he stalked down the hallway, footsteps heavy with anger. Tears bubbled in your lash line, blurring your vision, but you choked them back, standing pathetically in the middle of the hall.

The rest of the school year blurred into one muddled block of time. Your visits to the 3-A dorm had ceased nearly immediately upon Bakugo’s rejection of your feelings. You passed your friends in the hallway every now and then, and you didn’t shy away from a sparring match during mixed training days, but you kept your distance from Ground Zero and avoided discussing what had happened to your friendship. Mina and Kirishima had known the cause of the rift as soon as you stopped coming around, and they offered sympathetic glances and attempted words of encouragement whenever your classes trained together.

Graduation sneaked up on you before you’d even realized the school year had ended. You walked through the ceremony in a haze, barely tuning into the speeches and announcements. Friends, classmates, and pro heroes congratulated you on your success, as well as your impending position at Fatgum’s agency. You could only hope that Bakugo had accepted a job literally anywhere else, preferably at an agency that rarely interacted with Fatgum.

You weren’t working at the agency long before you were called to join Fatgum on patrol. Your heart hammered inside your chest as you strolled beside the BMI hero down the streets of Esuha City, keeping your eyes out for any lurking danger. This was your first patrol as a fully-fledged hero, and you were determined to make a good impression.

“So, (hero/n),” Fatgum beamed beside you, “what made you choose my agency? Word around the hero ranks is that you had quite a few offers by the time you graduated!”

“Oh!” you fumbled in surprise, heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, I’ve always admired you, Mr. Fatgum, sir. The way you always keep such a positive attitude even in the midst of a dangerous battle is inspiring. A lot of pro heroes are really intimidating, but you’re more genuine than that.”

“Aw, thanks kid! You’re making me blush!” the hero let out a laugh. “But please, just call me Fatgum! No need for that ‘Mr’ nonsense. You’re working with me, after all!”

“Not to be pedantic,” you countered, lifting a hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of your neck, “but technically I work for you.”

Fatgum shook his head. “I know a lot of pros see it that way; they like having subordinates to boss around. But you’ve seen how I interact with Suneater, haven’t you? I like to think of you guys as colleagues rather than employees.”

“I appreciate that si- Fatgum,” you replied with a soft smile. “That’s another reason I chose your agency. You respect all heroes, regardless of their rank or experience.”

Before he could respond, a scream sliced through the otherwise quiet afternoon. You shared a look with the BMI hero before you both took off towards the sound, the local citizens parting the way as you approached. The source of the scream was revealed to be a young woman, maybe a few years older than you, cowering on the pavement beneath a much larger man. Your footsteps alerted him to your presence, and he spun on his heel to face you and Fatgum. His mouth was open, his large tongue hanging down to the ground, tapered at the tip and barbed all the way down. His face appeared disfigured, his eyes pitch black and his jaw unhinged.

“He looks like something out of a sci-fi movie,” you commented, grounding your feet and preparing to activate your quirk.

“Keep your distance,” Fatgum warned. “That tongue looks like a long-range attack, and I don’t think those spikes would be too comfy.”

You nodded in agreement as the man, if he could even be called such, screeched at you, the sound akin to a pterodactyl. Looking lower, you found long claws taking place of his fingers, and a thick reptilian tail extended from his backside. Fatgum stood tall and firm as the mutated villain lunged forward, tongue extending to wrap around the hero’s frame. Once he collided with the hero’s belly, he bounced backwards, landing roughly on the ground. You dashed to the side, out of the villain’s sight, to check on the woman whose scream had caught your attention.

“Are you hurt?” you asked her quietly, checking for any obvious injuries.

“I’m okay,” she insisted. “You two came just in time. I think he was about to eat me!”

You took her hands in yours, helping her stand. “Get as far away from here as you can. We’ll take care of this guy.”

She nodded and bowed her head in thanks before running down the street, blending into the crowd. Just as you turned around, the mutated man turned his attention towards you, having lost interest in his one-sided fight against Fatgum. You could see tears in Fatgum’s costume, evidence that the reptilian villain had attempted quite a bit of damage. But now his focus was on you, and you barely had time to jump out of the way before his barbed tongue lashed towards you. You activated your quirk, but before you could charge in with a single attack, the villain spun around, his tail sweeping the ground where you stood, knocking you off your feet.

Fatgum charged forward, enveloping the villain with his fat and restricting his movements. The villain screeched again, leading you to weakly cover your ears before a flapping sound echoed through the air. Your gaze lifted to find what appeared to be another mutated man in the sky, flying with large, leathery wings. Upon spotting his restrained comrade, he dove down towards Fatgum, his sharp beak-like face stabbing into the hero’s shoulder. Fatgum grunted, stumbling backwards from the impact.

You rose to your feet, ready to rush to his aid when something wrapped around your torso. Looking down, you found what appeared to be scaled fingers as long and thick as your leg secured around your body. Struggling against its grasp, you turned your head to look behind you, coming face-to-face with a third disfigured villain.

Lunchtime found Ground Zero and Red Riot sitting on the roof of their shared apartment building, bento boxes packed by one Bakugo Katsuki in hand.

“What happened between you and (y/n), man?” Kirishima inquired suddenly and with all the subtlety of a stampeding elephant.

Bakugo fixed his garnet gaze on the sky above them. “We’re not friends anymore.”

The redhead huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I know that. I want to know why. You two used to be tight; tighter than you and me, and that’s saying something.”

The blond remained silent.

Kirishima watched his friend, coworker, and roommate for a moment. “What? Did they confess to you, or something?”

Bakugo’s gaze fell to the food he no longer had any desire to eat.

Kirishima’s own eyes widened. “Shit, man. Isn’t that a good thing? You’ve been in love with them since that first movie night they convinced you to join.”

The blond quickly turned towards his friend, brows furrowed as though he hadn’t been obviously pining over you for three years.

The redhead laughed, loud and genuine. “Did you think us extras didn’t notice? You never joined movie night for anyone, not even me. Plus, you let them sit on your lap, and you were practically vibrating when they fell asleep on you. Everyone knew how you felt about them, except for them. And maybe you.”

Bakugo’s expression turned sorrowful and his eyes fell back to his lap. “I know how I feel about them,” he murmured, his voice lacking its usual gravelly edge. “I didn’t want to admit it, but I know.”

“Then why didn’t you accept their confession?” his friend questioned lightly. When Bakugo didn’t respond, Kirishima exhaled a sigh. “You gave them the ‘number one hero’ speech, didn’t you?”

The explosive hero flinched. That was all the response Kirishima needed.

“When are you going to stop using that bullshit excuse to push people away?” he demanded. When Bakugo faced him with wide, surprised eyes, he continued. “You’re going to be number one hero. Everyone knows that. Why can’t you be number one while having a loving partner at your side? (y/n) has always supported you, even back before you were social. They understand how important this is to you. And I know how much you care about them. Why push them away?”

“That’s not why,” came Bakugo’s soft response. “That’s what I told them, but that’s not why I rejected them.”

Kirishima waited, quietly and patiently, for his friend to continue, knowing that encouraging him would only make him shut down.

The blond inhaled deeply before speaking again. “I’m going to be the number one hero,” he reiterated, and the hardening hero knew that it wasn’t just his ego talking now. “What if they get hurt? Being close to me means that villains can use them as leverage, or worse. And it’s like you said - they were there before I was social, when I thought everyone was just in my way. They don’t deserve that. They deserve to be with someone nice, someone like Deku maybe, someone who doesn’t treat them the way I did.”

Only Kirishima ever saw this side of Bakugo - vulnerable, honest, insecure. He knew there was always more to Bakugo’s emotions than the explosive, sandpaper surface.

“That’s exactly why they deserve you, and you deserve them,” he responded softly, earnestly. “You’ve never cared this much about how you treat anyone. You’ve grown so much since our first year at UA, man. You’re a mature hero now, and when you become number one, you’ll have the power and resources to protect people like (y/n). Do you think they would have confessed to you if you were still that antisocial asshat from first year? They’ve watched you grow as a person, grow closer to them. And then you just ripped all of that away.”

Bakugo flinched again. He knew that rejecting your confession must have gutted you, if how miserable he felt about it was anything to go by. But before he could fathom a response, a distress call came in through their earpieces.

“All nearby heroes summoned to Esuha City,” came Fatgum’s staticy voice, and Bakugo’s heart raced in his chest. “(hero/n) and I were attacked, and when the villains realized they couldn’t hurt me, they all launched at (hero/n). I need someone to take them to the hospital while the rest of us take these villains down.”

Bakugo’s heart dropped to his stomach. You were hurt. He jumped to his feet, Kirishima following suit, leaving their bento boxes unopened on the rooftop as they sped to your location.

The steady beep of your heartrate monitor echoed in the otherwise silent hospital room. Ground Zero sat, still in his hero costume, in an uncomfortable chair beside your bed. His elbows rested on his knees as he hunched forward, holding his forehead in his hands. He’d refused to leave the hospital after reluctantly handing you over to the staff so that they could tend to your injuries, demanding an update on your progress every half hour. Were he not a newly popular hero, security would have escorted him away. Thankfully, Red Riot stayed close by to keep the explosive hero grounded while they waited for the doctors to finish patching you up.

As soon as you’d been assigned a room, Bakugo had stationed himself at your bedside and refused to leave. Friends and colleagues had come and gone to check on you as well as Bakugo, knowing that he was irrationally blaming himself for your current state.

“You need to talk to them,” was Deku’s first response upon seeing the blond in your hospital room. Once the villains had been neutralized and Fatgum had been checked over, green hero had made his way as quickly as possible to the hospital to ensure that you had survived your injuries.

“I know,” Bakugo grumbled in response, refusing to look his childhood friend in the eye. He lifted his head from his hands and gazed sorrowfully at your sleeping face, littered with scrapes and bruises. His garnet eyes traveled down your form, taking in the number of bandages and casts wrapped around various parts of your body. He couldn’t help but think if only he’d been there-

“This wasn’t your fault,” Deku commented, his gaze darting between Bakugo’s self-loathing and your peaceful face. “There was nothing you could have done. (y/n) is a capable hero; there were just too many villains. You did exactly what they needed by bringing them here to get help.”

The blond exhaled a deep sigh, as though he’d been holding his breath. “I know.”

A soft gasp sounded in the nearly silent room, and two sets of eyes turned towards you. Your lips were parted and your eyes began to flutter, and Deku took it as his cue to leave. He closed the door behind him, offering the two of you some much-needed privacy.

Bakugo jumped to his feet, but his legs suddenly turned to lead as he attempted to approach your bed. He watched as your eyes opened and you blinked wearily at your surroundings. Hesitation gripped every bone in his body and all he could do was stare helplessly.

Your head turned, catching sight of the blond at your side, and your eyes widened. “Bakugo?” you whispered, your voice raspy. “What are you doing here?”

The sound of your voice was enough for the blond to push himself forward, walking closer until he stood directly beside your bed. His hands gripped at the railing as he looked at you, brows furrowed and mouth agape, his brain struggling to form words.

“I’m sorry.”

Well, shit. He wasn’t planning to jump into an apology. He was hoping to prepare himself a little more first.

Your brow furrowed as you gazed at your former classmate and long-time crush. “Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“Everything,” he exhaled, dropping to his knees as gazing into your tired eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were hurt; when you needed me. I’m sorry I pushed you away when you confessed to me. I’m sorry I just threw away everything we had.”

Your face turned stoic, and Bakugo’s heart pounded in his chest.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you murmured softly, your gaze drifting away from the blond. “You didn’t return my feelings. You wanted to focus on being a hero. I understood that; I never blamed you for it.”

Bakugo shook his head. “I lied,” he admitted, and his chest fluttered. “That wasn’t why I rejected you, I was just too afraid to be honest with myself, or with you.”

You turned back to face the explosive hero, eyes widened with surprise and the smallest sliver of hope. “Why... Why did you reject me, then?”

He inhaled deeply, steeling his nerves before holding your gaze. He reached up with one hand, gingerly placing it atop yours, squeezing gently when you didn’t pull away.

“If I’m going to become the number one hero, I’m gonna make a lot of enemies,” he explained, his thumb rubbing across the back of your bandaged hand. “With my personality, the media would be all over any kind of relationship I had. They’d find out everything they could about you, and villains would use that to their advantage. They could hurt you to get to me, and I refuse to let that happen.”

“Bakugo...” you breathed, your heart breaking as you considered how he must have been carrying this weight with him since the day you confessed. You squeezed his hand in return to the best of your ability, drawing his attention.

“Bakugo, you forget that I’m a hero too,” you smiled softly. “I’m already in danger, and dating a pro hero is much safer than dating a civilian. We’d be able to protect each other, and I knew when I confessed to you back at UA that being number one was your only goal, and that it would be a dangerous lifestyle. I still loved you then, Bakugo Katsuki, and I do now.”

“It wasn’t my only goal,” the blond murmured, his gaze dropping down to your joined hands. “My main goal, yeah, but I had another.”

You waited patiently for him to continue, teeth gnawing at your lower lip.

“I always wanted to make you happy,” Bakugo admitted, refusing to meet your eyes. “When I let you drag me to those stupid movie nights, or sit on my lap, or snuggle into my chest. The smile on your face was more than worth dealing with my classmates and their stupid stares.”

He rose to his feet, standing before leaning over your figure. Your eyes followed his every move, your free hand lifting to gently brush his cheek. He inhaled shakily at your touch, his hand coming to cradle your face. He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours, and your eyes fluttered closed in anticipation.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured before finally closing the gap and capturing your lips. A hum sounded in his throat as the feeling of finally kissing you washed over him. You hummed in return, your hand drifting down to tug at the collar of his hero costume.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, and you chased his words with another kiss.

“I love you too,” you responded before opening your eyes and gazing up into his garnet eyes.

“How about I go home and change-“

Bakugo was cut off by your grip tightening on his shirt, your head shaking adamantly. His brow furrowed as he waited for a verbal response.

“You’re not allowed to leave me anymore,” you murmured softly, and he deflated at the expression on your face.

“Okay,” he smiled softly. “I promise.” He took a step back in order to remove his boots. His gauntlets, mask, headpiece, and neck piece had already been discarded during the hours he waited for you to wake up. His boots soon joined the collection on the floor before he turned back to you and watched as you shifted to make room for him in your hospital bed. He crawled in as gently as possible, outstretching an arm for you to lay on. You curled into his chest, careful not to apply pressure to any of your wounds. His arms wrapped securely, protectively around you, and the next time one of your pro hero friends came to check on you, they’d find the two of you fast asleep and wrapped up in each other.

Writer's Block Masterlist

Writer's Block Fandoms and Characters

#writer's block #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #ground zero #my hero academia #mha #my hero academia x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert

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cathwritestragediesnotsins · 1 year

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I can’t even express how much I love him

#posts by cath #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #Bakugou katsuki #dynamight #ground zero #dynamite #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academia #mha #Katsuki bakugou #Bakugou #anime #comfort character #Cath’s favs #katsuki <3

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connorsoddsock · 1 year

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Detroit: Ground Zero | Ch. 2 (Connor x fem!reader)

Summary: You’re an aspiring psych student, ready to take on the world when life takes an unexpected, bloody turn. Flesh eaters now roam the city of Detroit in search of their next meal, an aggressive new deviant group rears its head, and you are caught right in the middle of it. Great…

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity, descriptions of blood and mild gore.

A/N: Introduced a good few characters in this chapter, including our boy, Connor. Please let me know your thoughts if you like it! ;)

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Chapter Two: The Station

The streets were oddly quiet as you followed closely behind Gavin, armed with the small knife he found for you back at the café. Streetlights shone down onto the sidewalks, and obnoxious neon signs blinked out the front of closed restaurants and stores. They usually provided comfort, but now they only served to make you antsy. You still hadn’t seen any of these so-called ‘zombies’ Gavin had bravely encountered, but you didn’t want to be on display for them like a hunk of meat, either.

“Where is everybody?” You whispered when the two of you reached a dark, narrow alley. You should’ve seen someone, anyone, by now. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

He glared at you, though you were unsure if it was because he didn’t like your question or because you really had the balls to make noise while you were out here. He continued without answering. The latter it was, then.

He held out an arm to halt you at the end of the alley, carefully peeking his head out to gaze upon the next street. You went to do the same, but he held firm and shook his head, a finger coming to rest upon his lips. He made a small biting motion, baring his teeth, and you tilted your head in question.

That was when you heard it. Grotesque crunching sounds floated towards you somewhere from the right, and your heart began to race. It must have been one of those things – or a few of them if the sounds were anything to go by. The low growls and moans were hard to ignore. A man was crying and gurgling, praying for God or anyone to help him.

You must have zoned out because you came to with an irritated Gavin waving a hand in your face. You blinked and acknowledged him with a disturbed look. He sighed and jabbed a thumb towards a street sign in the distance.

Detroit Police Department, 750m, with an arrow pointing to the right.

Your eyes widened, and you almost, almost voiced your protest, but you bit your lip hard instead, willing yourself to shut up. His shoulders drooped in frustration, and he gave you a sour look, almost as if to say, ‘why the fuck are you here?’

You mouthed an apology to him and steeled yourself with a deep breath, raising your knife in front of you. He let you tag along. You couldn’t be the dead weight now.

What the hell am I doing?

He hesitated before giving you a slow nod of approval, grey eyes narrowed in determination. He crouched slightly, gun held close to his chest, and motioned for you to stay close before emerging from the shadows. You wished there was another way, but backtracking and taking a detour would be too risky at this point. At least, that was what you guessed from the defeated look on Gavin’s face when he pointed at the sign.

You first noticed the lack of the (probably now dead) man’s voice when you stepped out of the shadows. The next was realising how close the mauled (yep, definitely dead) body was. And lastly, three of the undead digging in, ripping, and tearing into the body like they hadn’t eaten in several weeks, their backs to the two of you. You stumbled. There was so. Much. Blood.

It was one thing to see carnage on TV, glamorised by the many talented actors, actresses and production teams behind it, but this was-

Downright terrifying, you thought.

Gavin slowed when he realised you weren’t behind him and took a quick moment to acknowledge the gory scene himself before looking back at you, jaw tightened. He held out his hand, and you took it, taking slight comfort in the feeling of another person’s warm skin, despite the fact that he was a total stranger to you less than two hours ago.

Hands now linked (yours unbelievably sweaty), he slowly continued to lead you to another alley some fifty metres away, his eyes never entirely leaving the predators across the street. Thank God you’d chosen to wear your comfortable running shoes today, for they were considerably quieter than Gavin’s heavy boots.

You were nearly there when a loud screeching of tyres came down the block, the headlights of what seemed to be a black four-by-four beaming over the two of you. It had come to a solid stop, engine rumbling low, waiting. What are they…?

Gavin’s hand tightened around yours, almost painfully, and his head snapped towards the flesh eaters. They were no longer feeding, all three sets of dark, bloodied eyes now locked onto the two of you. You didn’t have the time to linger on how horrific they looked before you were pushed towards the alley, Gavin sending a well-aimed shot towards the one now running at you on all fours. Blood spurted from its shoulder where the bullet made contact, but it did almost nothing to slow it down.

“Fuck! Go!” He yelled, blindly taking two more shots over his shoulder as he ran after you.

Your lungs were burning by the time you were spat out onto another street with no time to survey your surroundings like the last. Gavin wasn’t far behind, swearing under his breath as he overtook you, once again yanking you by the arm this time, shouting at you to keep going. Those things were still behind you, borderline demonic screams leaving their mouths.

You could see it now, the station. The lights were out (they must have gotten the same idea), and you came to a halt once you reached the entrance doors. Unfortunately, they were wooden with frosted glass, so you couldn’t see much inside. You frantically shook the metal handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Ah, shit! Gavin?!”

You went to look at him when you were tackled from behind, your body slamming into the door before being dragged down by something heavy. Your head spun as you let out a scream, your arms shooting out to hold the flesh eater away from you. Strings of dark blood left its mouth as it snarled and snapped at your face, its hands tugging on your clothes like the jaws of a rabid dog.

You could hear shouting in the distance, followed by gunshots and something clanging loudly against the road. Gavin must be fighting the other two. You were on your own.

Your arms were shaking, unused to the sudden strain they were being put through, but you weren’t going to give up without a fight. Knife lying forgotten on the floor (you must have dropped it), you wriggled your hips and brought a knee up between you and the flesh eater. Then, mustering what strength you could, you pushed out. It staggered back, giving you barely enough room to roll away before it pounced again, its blood-soaked fingers swiping for your jacket.

You barely noticed the door beside you finally open, someone stepping out, gun raised. A shot fired, and your ears rang as you were hauled inside by another, the flesh eater that was targeting you now twitching on the floor with a gunshot wound right between the eyes. It was dark inside, but the streetlight down the road provided just enough light for you to see the middle-aged man who’d pulled you in, blue eyes checking you over.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked gruffly, swearing under his breath when more gunshots rang out. Thick grey hair framed his face alongside a somewhat scruffy beard. “We gotcha, kid, don’t worry. The name’s Hank, by the way.”

“I-I’m… I…” Trying to get a word out was futile, so you snapped your mouth shut, your body trembling in shock.

He moved you towards the reception desk, letting you go when your knees collapsed from under you, huffing as you landed a little roughly on your backside, trying to control the short, frantic breaths that left your mouth.

Hank made his way back to the door, peering outside. “There’s fucking more of ‘em!”

He stepped aside as two figures raced in not long after; one of which you were relieved to see was Gavin. In your distress, you hadn’t realised the other person was an android, his fitted grey jacket glowing with the tell-tale signs of Cyberlife’s emblem and notorious armband. An RK800, you read. He’d saved you.

The three flinched back as several flesh eaters slammed into the windows, clearly unaffected by the pain it would inflict upon a normal human being. Your heart rate spiked again upon seeing more of them. One was difficult enough to face.

“Connor,” Hank addressed the android. “Help me block the entrance!”

“Got it!”

“Sorry, boys,” He said, patting the surface of a stall honouring the department’s past officers. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

The two of them worked together to push the surprisingly heavy stall to block the doors, tipping it over onto its side for good measure. A loud crash sounded throughout the station, and you recoiled, wary of the fact that those things were drawn to sound. Not that it mattered now.

Gavin’s eyes landed on your vulnerable frame, and he crossed his arms. “Looks like we made it.” He stated, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

You sucked in a breath, “Are you seriously smiling right now?”

This only made him chuckle, “Well, we fuckin’ made it, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. Barely.”

“Oh, come on.”

“No.”

“If it helps, you really are a lot faster than I thought you’d be.”

You had regular jogs to thank for that.

“For a midget, anyway.” He added – a somewhat backhanded compliment, you supposed.

“… Thanks, I guess?”

A hushed cough startled you from your half-hearted bickering with Gavin. You both looked towards the android – Connor, you inwardly corrected. “If I may,” he said, taking a second to adjust his crooked tie. “I suggest we head inside. Out of sight.”

“Out of mind,” Gavin carried on, delivering him a hard slap on the shoulder. “Read my mind, tin can.”

Hank gave you a helping hand to stand again before being led through a set of gates and automatic glass doors that fanned out into a room filled with desks and twelve unoccupied android stations. A large, currently unused glass office sat in the centre. It was even darker back here, save for a computer terminal on one of the middle desks (some people were huddled around it) and the bright blue LED of another android. They looked up as you all walked in.

A man abruptly rose from his chair, his dark features schooled into what seemed like a semi-permanent scowl. “Detective Reed, where in the hell have you been?”

“Sorry, Captain Fowler, I was busy trying not to die.” You didn’t miss the snark in Gavin’s tone. He continued, “I dropped my phone when one of those fuckers attacked me.”

“What of Officer Miller?”

“Had to leave him in a café full of panicked civilians.” He introduced you by name, “She’s from there.”

Hank spoke up next, “There’s more of those things out front, too. We’ve blocked the doors, but they won’t hold if more of ‘em show up.”

“We stay away from the entrance, then. Hopefully, they’ll get bored and leave.” The captain’s scowl grew deeper as he brought a hand to his chin. “I’ve got three active units remaining unaccounted for. Nines, best keep trying while I try my hand at getting a hold of Captain Allen. His lot are probably on it as we speak…”

You zoned out as they continued to scope the situation, your mind needing a moment to process the fact that this was real and you were now holed up in a police station with yet another bunch of strangers. You’d felt around in your pockets for your phone only to discover that it was practically useless now, considering it was dead. Unless, of course, you managed to get hold of a compatible charger since yours was left behind at the café in your messenger bag.

It could be worse, you thought grimly.

A hand entered your peripheral, and you began to retreat out of instinct until you realised it was only Connor. His LED flickered as his dark coffee eyes trailed over your form, hand cautiously hovering. “You’re wounded.”

“I am?” You asked dumbly.

He nodded, “You have scrapes on your hands, and you’re suffering from a mild concussion.”

Your hand reached up to feel your head, wincing as your fingers ran over your temple. You did hit the window pretty hard when that flesh eater jumped you. As for the scrapes, you were only just now starting to feel the sting, the adrenaline rush from earlier beginning to subside. You hadn’t noticed them at all.

“Please follow me.”

You nodded shyly and shuffled along behind him. It was hard to ignore how attractive he was now that you actually had the time to breathe and take in your surroundings properly. You took note of his tall yet lean frame, your eyes only just level with his broad shoulders if you stood straight. He had coiffed brown hair, one stubborn strand falling over to tickle at his forehead and nice high cheekbones with a generous smattering of light freckles. Not to mention those eyes.

How dare they make an android so attractive?

He entered what must have been the break room for staff, asking you to rinse your wounds in the sink while he fished around in the first aid cabinet. Afterwards, you waited for him by one of the chrome bar tables while he got what he needed, gently eyeing your wounds. They weren’t that bad, but you knew they’d become annoying if they weren’t tended to.

He walked over with a cotton pad doused in some ointment and clean bandages still in their wrapper. You swallowed hard as he took your noticeably smaller hand in his own and gently began dabbing at the torn skin, face knitted in concentration. It was almost… cute.

“So, do you work here?” You blurted. Smooth. That much had been obvious when he heroically assisted you and Gavin with his gun earlier.

He glanced up at you before returning his attention to his task. “Yes. I’m Lieutenant Anderson’s – Hank’s partner.” He stated, letting go of your hands to tear open the packets of bandages.

“Ah, nice,” you held your left wrist up for him to begin wrapping, trying not to focus too much on how soft his hands were. You’d never touched an android before. “Thank you for earlier, by the way. I’d have been a goner.”

“You’re welcome.”

Another short silence.

“So, how did it start here?”

His brow lifted, “Pardon?”

“Oh, um, the zombies. Was the station attacked?” You clarified, cringing inwardly at your awkwardness.

“Ah, no, we weren’t attacked. Though, we did receive a sudden influx of callers reporting their encounters with what they called ‘crazed cannibals’.” He replied matter-of-factly.

You found it in yourself to chuckle, “Well, they’re not entirely wrong.”

A small smile curled at his lips, exposing the slightest hint of dimples on his cheeks, and you quickly averted your eyes to a very interesting coffee stain on the edge of the table, heart rate spiking.

What the actual fuck, Cyberlife…

He finished up with your other hand in silence. You focused on chewing the inside of your cheek to avoid more lame conversation starters slipping past your lips. It had been a while since your last relationship – or, well, dalliance was a more accurate term. You found it hard to commit to a long-term relationship in the past, your mental health being all over the place for a while, so you’d often sought comfort in something more casual. No strings attached. That didn’t mean anything long-term was off the table, however. You just hadn’t found ‘the one’.

Not that you were eyeing up Connor to fill that void. You’d just met the poor guy, and you knew many deviants were still overwhelmed with their newfound emotions. You’ve heard your fair share of stories on the internet, most of which were probably exaggerated due to the attitude on social media nowadays, but you knew they held some credibility.

Back in the bullpen, Hank and Gavin stood off to the side with Fowler, quietly observing as he argued with someone over the phone. Meanwhile, three other officers still sat by the computer, eyes glued to what seemed to be a news report showcasing the violent new species running amok on the streets outside the news tower. You gulped. There looked to be hundreds of the things going absolutely mental at the news chopper hovering above.

Lastly, there was the other android – Nines, the captain had said – leaning his backside against the desk opposite the officers, arms crossed, face void of any emotion. The flickering yellow LED on his temple was the only thing telling you he was alive. His jacket was black and white with an unusually high collar, the model number RK900 sewn neatly across the front. The part that got you the most, however, was his face. It was strikingly similar to Connor’s, but his features were sterner, harder, granting him a lovely air of ‘don’t fuck with me’.

“Hey, Connor? Is there another phone I can use around here?” You asked. You wanted to contact your parents. Might as well while everyone else was busy.

He nodded, pointing to a landline on the desk Nines was hovering over.

Of course.

You swallowed hard and nodded your head in thanks as you quietly sidled over, doing your best not to distract the imposing android. Thankfully, he didn’t even spare you a glance as you reached over to the phone and brought it closer to you. You lifted the handset to your ear and dialled your dad’s number first. Nothing. You tried again. Nothing. You faced the same issue with your mum but left a message this time.

“Hey, Mum, you good? I’m at the police station, holed up with a few others. I got attacked by one of those…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut to remove the terrifying images from your mind, “-things. It’s on the news if you haven’t seen it yet.I wanted to make sure you and Dad are okay at the hospital. I know you’re both working late. My phone’s dead, so call the station when you can. I love you. Bye.”

You hung up with a heavy heart, one hand lingering on the handset while the other carded through your hair, trying to keep your thoughts steady. There was no point in panicking when there was nothing you could do. The hospital they worked at was way too far to walk, and catching an automated taxi was out of the question since you were honestly too scared to go on your own after seeing what was out there. Besides, you didn’t want to burden anyone else. They were your parents, not theirs. They had their own families to worry about.

Shuffling sounds snapped you out of your reverie, and your eyes blinked open to gaze up at Nines, who was standing properly now.

Sweet Jesus, this one’s even taller.

He glanced at you for barely a second (his eyes were a stormy grey compared to Connor’s molten brown) before walking off to inform the captain of his fruitless attempts at making contact with the other units. His voice was partially deeper, more monotone and lacking the expression Connor’s had. Was he even a deviant yet?

Fowler swore loudly, making you jump. Hank’s lips formed a thin line as he extracted himself from the situation with his hands raised, choosing to join you instead. He casually took Nine’s previous spot. “How you feelin’, kid? You look a sight.”

You froze. You hadn’t thought about your appearance at all. “Shit, really?”

“No less than Gavin over there, but yeah,” he chuckled, reaching for a bottle of water near the terminal behind him. He offered you one before taking a long swig from his, “You’re lucky Connor came when he did. Bolted when he heard your scream.”

“He did?” You gave a sheepish smile, trying not to steal a glance at the handsome android in question. You focused on the water bottle in your hands instead.

The lieutenant nodded. “Sure did. Poor kid’s been on edge all night, waiting for another soul to save.”

“Is he usually like that?”

“Recently, yeah. This whole deviancy thing’s changing him, giving him a real personality, you know?” Hank looked proud, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He clearly cares about him. He shook his head and focused back on you, “You trying to call someone?”

“O-oh, yeah.” You bit your lip, hesitating momentarily. “My parents. Couldn’t get a hold of them, though...”

“They at home?”

“I mean, Henry Ford Hospital practically is their home. They’re both doctors.” You explained.

His brows rose at that, but he didn’t comment on it, so you took the opportunity to ask for the restroom and excused yourself, relieved to see that the lights were still on in there. You almost gagged when your eyes landed on your reflection in the mirror. Though he’d been pretty polite about it, Hank wasn’t lying – you looked horrid.

Your jacket was coated in blood from when that zombie tried to make a meal out of you. Your face wasn’t spared either, much to your chagrin, caked blood smearing your neck and chin – that thing’s drool, you realised with a real gag this time. Your hair was a mess, too, loose strands framing your face, a harsh reminder of the past hour or so. Not that you’d ever forget.

You immediately removed the jacket and flung it over the bench, leaving you in a form-fitting, navy-blue thermal that kept you warm on chilly nights like tonight. The sleeves had snaked their way up your forearms in a way that usually drove you crazy, but you kept them there as you wet some paper towel and began rubbing at your face to remove the blood.

You should’ve done this before Connor wrapped your hands.

You gagged yet again as the water activated the metallic stench of blood, and this time grabbed another bunch of paper towels with soap on it this time because you were not about to get familiar with the smell of death right on your face. Once that was done, you reached up to untangle your hair and smooth it down as much as possible without a brush. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do for now. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much you could do about your leggings, so they’d have to stay as they were until you could get a clean set of clothes.

With that, you left the restroom, mentally preparing yourself for what was going to be an undoubtedly long and restless night.

#please share your thoughts #am nervous haha #connor and nines have entered the chat #connor rk800 x reader #connor x reader #connor dbh x reader #fic: detroit ground zero #dbh au #connor dbh #nines dbh #nines x reader #rk900 x reader

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seoups · 2 years

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bakugo relationship headcanons - secrets

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

notes: hey guys... been a while... the algorithm isn't gonna like this one... content: you’re dating bakugo and he wants to keep your relationship a secret. at least until the jealousy set in. warnings: unedited word count: 912

Bakugo’s the one who suggested keeping your relationship low-key since he didn’t want to deal with the relentless teasing from his classmates.

you obliged since you wanted him to feel comfortable in the relationship

he forgot you were the most beautiful girl anyone had ever seen and regretted the secrecy when he caught sight of many many many men flirting with you.

“Hey, Y/n, do you want to go to the movies with me this weekend?” “Sorry, Denki. I’m super busy,” you said, being the amazing liar that you were.

even though he was jealous, he trusted you enough for him to not intervene.

sneaking into his dorm whenever you could was a constant if you ever wanted his attention.

it got to the point where he made you a key so you could get in easily.

“Y/n? That’s Bakugo’s dorm… yours is on the other side of the hall….” “REALLY? CRAP! MY BAD!” you exclaimed, running to your dorm, using the excuse of having only recently gotten your dorms to your advantage.

Bakugo: you’re so bad at sneaking around. y/n: MAYBE IF YOU DIDNT SLEEP AT 8:30PM, I COULD SNEAK IN LATE AT NIGHT WHEN PEOPLE WERE SLEEPING. y/n: yk what. it’s your turn to sneak around. we’re meeting in my dorm from now on. Bakugo: whatever, i’ll probably be better than you are. y/n: let’s bet on it then. Bakugo: fine.

Bakugo ended up getting caught his first time trying to sneak in.

It was his fault for trying it right after dinner, really.

“Bakugo?” “Shut up, shitty hair,” bakugo said, retreating back to his room.

At some point, Bakugo had it with Sparkplug flirting with you all the damn time.

“Y/n-“ “Y/n this, Y/n that. Cant, you see she has a boyfriend, charging chord?” Bakugo growled, not realizing what he had just said. “What,” Mina said, shocked that you hadn’t told her, your best friend. “…Surprise?” you said.

Mina was PISSED that you hadn’t told her.

She yelled at you while Bakugo sat there with a stupid grin on his face, wishing he had told everyone earlier that he was dating the prettiest girl in school.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? IM YOUR BEST FRIEND, Y/N!” “Blame Bakugo, not me! He’s the one who wanted to keep it low-key!” “Oh my god, that’s why i kept seeing you guys on the wrong sides of the dorm building,” Kirishima said, finally putting the pieces together. “Glad you finally figured it out, shitty hair,” Bakugo laughed. “How can you be laughing at a time like this while i’m getting scolded by the whole class?” you hit his chest. “It’s amusing,” he smirked.

Not feeling the need to hide it anymore, Bakugo proudly put his arm around you while sitting in the shared lounge space of the dorms, amused by the stares coming from his classmates.

“Stop staring or i’ll blow your asses to space.” “Bakugo, be nice,” you warned him. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he said.

He enjoyed flaunting you and showing you off to people, even if he heard them talking shit.

“How the fuck did Bakugo in 1-A get Y/n L/n to fall for him…” “You wanna say that again? To my face?” Bakugo threatened. “WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT BEING NICE,” you punched him. “OW!”

You both were constantly caught on actual dates, pictures of the two of you being sent to the 1-A groupchat.

denki: bakugo and y/n caught on a secret date 😱😱😱 bakugo: if it was secret we’d actually try to hide it dumbass mina: i’m still pissed i found out about it at the same time as everyone else. y/n: IM SORRY 😭😭😭😭

“Mina’s going to murder both us in our sleep one day,” you declared, resting your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’d like to see her try.”

You were both constantly watched, even when you were simply talking with him during class.

“Did you see the new-" “Keep moving, charging chord,” Bakugo scolded. “You too, Pinky. What were you saying?” “Oh, i was just wondering if you saw the new marvel movie yet,” you smiled. “I have. I saw it when it first came out. You wanna watch it?” “Yeah but if you’ve already seen it, we should just see another-“ “No, we’ll watch it.” “Mind if we join you?” Kirishima asked. “Leave,” Bakugo said, upset that Kiri ruined his moment with his girlfriend.

Apparently, the news of who your boyfriend was didn’t spread as far as the fact that you had a boyfriend.

“Do you think Y/n would leave her boyfriend for me?” some random guy asked his friend. “The only guy she would leave me for is for her stupid kdrama guys so shut the fuck up,” Bakugo growled. “S-Sorry Bakugo.” “Save your stuttering for your mom.”

Soon, word spread that Bakugo was the one you were dating, leading to a lot of snarky comments.

#bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo headcanons #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo fanfiction #bakugo katsuki fanfiction #bnha bakugo katssuki #bakugo bnha #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha fanfiction #bnha incorrect quotes #groundzero #ground zero #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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thequeenofuselessinformation · 2 years

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Just Explosive Gremlin Things♡

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

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hey doll! i was wonderin if red does anything special for annies birthday. maybe picks some flowers or sings happy birthday to no one in particular. or if its a day of grief for her, the one that she couldnt save. the one that got away

🌸 anon

She tries not to think about it. Similar to Joel with Sarah, it's an open wound. It's best to leave it alone, but it's festering. She's aware of the day but she tries not to think about it. Sometimes it's hard not to focus on her sister. Ellie will say something and it sounds so much like Annie. Her attitude and quirky remarks. The occasions when Ellie stops acting tough and lays down with her, lying next to her on the couch and both of them wrapping their arms around each other. It's hard not to remember a different little girl doing the same, slipping under her covers in the darkness of her old bedroom and hugging her tightly, especially when yelling could be heard downstairs. If she remembers the day Annie was born, that night she'll be forced to remember the day she died. She hears her screams often, smells the blood through the door. The sound of the gunshot as she blew open Harry's skull and the void of her memory afterwards. It's a loop she can't escape.

#anon #anon asks #🌸anon #series: feral #joel miller x feral reader #feral reader #raicodoll writes #She definitely has not confronted her grief #and its part of why she is like she is #it's ground zero for her self-destruction

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liliputkalin · 3 months

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Reader x Dagur, PG, ~5500 words trigger warnings: animal death, canon-typical violence The most boring hunt for wolves/j or what was supposed to be a short thing and grew too much :(

#x reader #dagur x reader #lin's rambles #me writing about fantasy world: hmmm haw about the most grounded to reality thing in existence #the end is just like that i do not want to write more ssry #they come down the mountain safely and everything's okay <3 #x dagur be like zero interactions with dagur

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angelltheninth · 7 months

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Pyramid Head Chases You Down and Fills You Up

Pairing: Pyramid Head x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, fear play, cnc roleplay, size kink, clothes tearing, rough sex, growling, creampie, breeding kink, no talking for Pyramid Head

A/N: It's the spooky month so it seems like a good time to write about my favorite DBD man.

How the fuck did you get into this mess? Where were you and why were you being chased by a really tall, really muscular man with a pyramid on his head? It was weird but every time he approached he seemed a little more on the edge of something. You didn't know what bit it made you want to both run and drop down to your knees.

You hid behind a barrel, barely big enough to hide your body as the sound of heavy breathing and heavy footsteps got closer and closer. He got closer. His sword dragged behind him, slicing a trail through the dirt. His strength must be great to be able to hold that sword. Handling you would be all to easy for him. Or pushing the barrel out of the way to get to you. "Motherf- really? How did you find me?!" You jumped away only to be grabbed by the leg and pulled to the ground underneath him with a hard thud. His head tilted from side to side and up and down, scanning your body.

For a man so rough around the edges his hands moved with precision over your body, his sword within arms reach but you knew you couldn't use it against him. With his head covered you could do little to fight him as he lifted your shirt up, taking your bra with it.

"Wai-!" Strong hips made room between your legs for his cock, his pants pulled down to his ankles and apron torn off his muscular chest, his cock glistening with pre-cum. "Is that supposed to go inside me? Are you insane?!" All you got was a grunt in response, followed by the sound of more clothes ripping and your surprised yelp as a thick finger pushed inside of you. "Stop, I'm not... ready for..."

He didn't seem to care about your protests, only for your moans and the warmth of the drooling pussy around his finger. Fuck, how could getting chased, pinned and manhandled by this man, this monster feel so good that it made your toes curl? It was all kinds of wrong, you should be thinking about escape not how his finger feels inside of you.

It was wrong, perverted, it made you question if it had really been so long since you've gone without a cock that you're willing to take his? Your pussy seemed to think so but your mind said no.

"Please, please let me go. I don't even know where I..." Your eyes widened in fear as he pulled his hand away, his fingers covered with the sticky evidence of your arousal and lust. The broad head of his cock pushed against your entrance, he grunted once in frustrating, both of you thinking the same thing: he was way too big. "Wait, seriously, I'm not on birth control! If you do that I might get pregnant!"

As if that was his trigger word to push his big fat cock all the way in with zero warning. Your eyes rolled back as he ripped an orgasm out of you, your slutty body reacting to his cock. "Mmmmn." He snarled as your pussy tightened up around him, your legs pushed to your shoulders, body folded in half, pussy getting dicked down for you to see. You could only imagine the smile he had on his face as he broke you down with his cock.

Was he gonna stop? No, not a chance, he had too much cum to give and you just so happened to be the only thing around that could take it. And no one would be around to hear your screams of terror and pleasure, no one but him.

#pyramid head #dbd x you #pyramid head smut #pyramid head dbd #pyramid head x reader #female reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight smut #dbd smut #slasher smut #slasher x reader #x female reader

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pellucid-constellations · 3 months

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Reversal

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: When protecting your mate brings out a side you swore to keep hidden, you have to deal with the consequences.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Violence, injury, angst, some self-deprecation

a/n: This is loosely based off of this request <3 thank you for sending it!! I hope you enjoy and I also love comments!! ♡

Masterlist ♡

In the heat of battle, there was kindness.

That was a ludicrous sentiment, and Azriel had reminded you of that many times, but it was something you believed in.

War was hot flames and blood and the clashing of metal, but it was also reassurance and soft hands and wisps of healing light. If war was cruel and it stole, you were kind and you gave.

The first war had been a teacher, guiding you to your role. The second war had been reinforcement, showing you what it meant to be the Night Court’s healer. And then you thought you were done—done with attempting the impossible.

But then Beron took a stance that no one could foresee, and you were not done.

With the soldiers of Autumn Court came an impenetrable heat, and it was your job to quell the scars that plagued Rhysand’s frontlines. You were the one set to heal the broken and save the damned, and you were the one set to protect the court with kindness.

It was awful work.

Azriel was always quick to agree.

Your mate hated these wars more than you did, and that was an almost impossible feat. Azriel was never close to you in the throes of battle. There was always a cluster of shadows on your trail, but he could never be there himself. You knew it ate away at him, distracting him when he was supposed to be zeroed in on the enemies.

But, you had reminded him as he held you close in the tent the night before, you hadn’t died yet, and maybe you’d never die from a war. Maybe you weren’t destined to.

He had only pulled you closer at that, pressed his lips to your head as his wings hid you from the camp that made far too much noise. He held you so tightly you felt his pulse on the skin of your cheek and you pretended you were back at home.

Because although you were the kindness within the war, you wanted to go home.

Gods, did you want to go home.

Flames raced along the outskirts of the blue shield that had enveloped you the moment your knees hit the ground beside the unconscious Illyrian soldier. They pushed and pried, trying to force their way past your mate’s protection as you trained your attention on the wound marring the soldier’s skin.

Azriel would protect you.

He always did, even when he couldn’t be beside you.

“I’m… going to die,” the male beneath your hands huffed out, a line of sweat at his brow.

“No,” you assured. “No, you’re going to be okay. I just need a few more moments.”

You couldn’t see what was making him so assuredly pessimistic—couldn’t see the way the flames were creating cracks in the shimmering blue light. They were covering every inch of the shield, making the air in the circle red with heat and promised death.

You noticed a moment too late.

It was unbearable, the suffocating fire. You threw your body over the soldier as if that would make a difference, arms and shoulders wrapping over his head as your leathers scorched and your lungs burned. The male screamed, his legs thrashing. You wanted to replicate the sound, but you were kindness. Kindness did not scream.

It ended as abruptly as it began, flames dissipating into blackened embers. You felt a crack in the bond during the disappearance, Azriel’s fear and rage embedding itself into the golden thread connecting you. That, too, ended as abruptly as it began; Azriel shut his side down, saving you from the ravaging emotions.

You whipped around to search for him, eyes up towards the sky. You found him quickly, with a practiced eye. You’d looked for him in every room you’d entered for almost your entire life. It was easy to find Azriel. As easy as breathing.

That breath was stolen from you the moment your gaze locked on his form.

He was falling.

He had charged—alone—into the group that was to blame for your injuries, for the flames that had almost consumed you, and now he was falling.

He was falling and he wasn’t conscious.

You think you screamed, but that couldn’t be right. Screaming led to panicked patients, and panicked patients led to worse outcomes. Your screams were not welcomed in war.

You tugged at the bond, desperate to rouse him into saving himself. But it was no use; he was plummeting to the ground and there was nothing you could do.

When you looked back on it later—when it fizzled as dim memories within your dreams—your actions would become more clear. You’d remember that you stood up, and then the ground shook. That the years of training required to be a field healer included so much more than twisting bursts of soothing light.

And something within you had awoken that day, the moment you saw wakefulness leave Azriel’s being… something that was not kindness or giving or calm.

It was rage.

A piece of you recognized that Azriel had been caught. Cassian’s wings had most likely ached from the speed with which he dove to catch his brother, but both members of your family were safe. Harmed, but safe. Not dead.

Your rage didn’t care.

Something deep within you snapped, and light was pouring from the tips of your fingers. It wasn’t the same hue that healed. It was darker; a hungry red.

The enemies from the sky fell.

When those on the ground saw the damage you had inflicted, you became their target. And fine, let them, because this power coursing through you had no sense of who was to blame for your mate’s injuries. To you, everyone was a threat. Everyone was to blame.

With a practiced grace, tainted by years of disuse, you attacked. The scene was cloaked in a red hue. Fae after fae charged at you, but it was all fruitless. You felt pain, injuries covering your skin, but it was all muted by the overwhelming desire to end this. To somehow soothe the ache you felt from watching your mate fall.

Time became obsolete.

Morals became blurred.

You were a machine, a complete reversal from the position you had assumed all those years ago.

“Y/n!”

Through the fog, a scream.

“Y/n, stop!”

Another far away call.

“It’s done. It’s over. Stop. Look at me and stop.”

Something was pressing against your cheeks. It was firm and grounding and the focus returned to your gaze.

“That’s it. Look at me, y/n.”

Cassian. When all was righted, Cassian stood in front of you, his posture hunched as he leaned down to catch your eyes. He was dirty and his leathers were torn, but all you could focus on was the panicked frenzy marring his face.

When he spoke next, the words were no longer accompanied by the incessant buzzing that had invaded your ears. “You with me, sweetheart?”

Your lips felt numb.

“Give me a nod or something. Az will kill me if you go catatonic on us.”

“I’m okay,” you whispered, voice rough. “Azriel, he—”

“He’s here.” Cassian turned your head in his hands, showing you the shadowsinger propped up against a dirt bank. “That self-sacrificing idiot is fine.”

He wasn't fine, not really. His breaths were labored and his hand clutched at his side with a shaky grip. You wanted to move towards him, to try and take away some of his pain, but your legs were stuck. Everything was stuck and you couldn't move.

It didn’t matter, anyway. When your eyes trailed up from his body, the look on his face would have deterred you from even speaking to him. He looked… horrified. Hazy eyes blinked across the battlefield—the one you decimated—and they shut just as fast. They squeezed shut, clamping down so tightly it looked like it hurt. Azriel seemed to shiver at the carnage.

When your chest heaved at the realization, your body seemed to shut down. You felt your legs give out first, heard the curse shot out by Cassian, and felt the hands pressing to your back as your mind gave way to unconsciousness.

When you woke, the heaviness in your body was not entirely physical.

There were, of course, a few broken bones. You could feel the aches and pains from battle and knew that you hadn’t gotten away unscathed, but that was all manageable. Fae healing was fast-acting and you would be fine within a few days.

But it wasn’t the physical pain keeping you from opening your eyes.

It was the reminder of Azriel’s face.

The disgust written into his features.

You were supposed to be his antithesis.

When Azriel came home at the end of a day, he was supposed to be comforted by your warmth and softness. You were kindness and light and graceful silence. You were a healer, granting life, and he was an angel of death.

Before you had met him, that had not been the truth. You were a healer, yes, but you were a field healer. The continent you hailed from prided themselves in being both the saviors of life and the bringers of death. You were to be the judgment—deciding who received which fate.

But then you met Azriel, and with him came balance. With him came the need to be only one part of you.

So you hid away the side of you meant to be cruel. You trained softly in self-defense only and you shied away from the instinct to protect with fists and power.

And you loved the way he looked at you because of it.

You loved the soft eyes and silent laughs; the tender way he held you and the sweet way he brushed his lips to your innocent skin. He coveted you, protected you, and you were the one he sought comfort in.

You were his mate, his equal, his mirror.

You wished your eyes could remain shut forever.

“Will she wake up soon?”

Mor, you could deduce.

“The healers said there was no way to know. She… Gods, Mor, you should have seen her out there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Cassian.

“I wish I had been there. It sounds like she kicked some ass,” Mor smugly replied.

Cassian huffed out a laugh. “That’s an understatement.” A pause. “It was more than just that though. It was like she was using her healing in a different way. She cleared the field in front of her. There’s no way that just… came out of her.”

“You know what the mating bond does to people. What it can unleash.”

“I get that. But it looked natural for her. It looked practiced.”

You heard Mor sigh. A hand brushed against the top of yours, taking it into a soft grip.

“I just hope she's alright,” Mor murmured.

“She has to be.”

When you awoke next, it was alone. You had been fighting sleep for what you assumed to be the better part of a day and decided that was enough. Eventually, you had to face the consequences of your actions.

You swung your feet over the side of the cot, feeling surprisingly rested and well despite the few pains shooting along your limbs. You took hesitant steps towards the mouth of the tent, propping open the canvas billowing in the wind before taking a more confident step onto dirt and rocks.

“Good, you’re up.” It was Rhysand who spotted you first. “Just in time for our debrief.”

The casualness with which he spoke left you disoriented. The High Lord only blinked at you, a small, impassive smile on his face as he waited for you to take the arm he had outstretched. Your mouth parted as if to speak, but nothing was coming out.

“I know you’re recovering, y/n, but I need my best at this meeting,” he encouraged, elbow jutting towards you. “Come. We’ll speak and then we’ll return to Velaris. We will go home.”

Your reservations were odd when you compared them to the understanding on Rhys’s face. He wasn’t upset or disgusted or angry; the High Lord’s smile turned up at the corner of his mouth and his expression spoke of sympathy, as if he already knew about the turmoil raging within you.

“Azriel—”

“Is there already. Unhappy, but there.”

Unhappy.

Of course.

Who would want a mate that ravaged battlefields?

Your lip quivered, but you bit it to stop the emotion from showing. “Right,” you nodded, and you let Rhys guide you to the large tent in the middle of the camp.

It was full; you had to push your way in to meet the rest of your court. Azriel was the only one seated amongst them, and you could tell by the twitch of his wings that he had been placed in that chair begrudgingly.

Your eyes skated across his for a fleeting moment. You were quick to turn away, focusing on the material of Rhys’s jacket as he stopped in the corner of the tent.

There was a faint tug on the bond, muted by the wall you had erected. You thought about letting it down, but you were scared of what you’d feel. Azriel was a good male; good enough to attempt to hide the revulsion he was feeling.

But you’d be able to parse it out the second you dropped your mental shield.

You kept your eyes forward as the high lords spoke around the tent. The large table in the center was covered in maps and wooden pegs and you flowed in and out of focus as treaties and strategies and plans all mingled in the space.

Another tug at the bond.

Another shield placed around your mind.

“And what of her?”

Rhys took a step in front of you, covering half of your body from view. “What of her?” he countered, a calmness in his tone as he replied to the High Lord of Spring.

Tamlin raised a brow. “Are we just supposed to ignore that your ‘healer’ is a danger to all of our courts?”

“You are a fool,” Feyre spat out, hands splayed on the table.

“She is a weapon,” Tamlin seethed, finger jutting out towards you.

You flinched, and the room exploded in shadows.

You heard several gasps, a few weapons being unsheathed, but over everything was the low rumble of Azriel’s voice.

“Don’t speak of her as if she is an object,” he threatened. “Don’t speak of my mate at all.”

“Reign in your dog,” Tamlin spat, but that only spurred on the hostility in the room.

A chair screeched back, crashing against wood as loud, reverberating footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent tent. No one made a sound. Some of the shadows gave way, retreating to wind around your body, and you were met with the scene across the table.

“I will show you a weapon, High Lord,” Azriel promised, chest-to-chest with Tamlin.

The sight made you sick.

Azriel was a protector. You were used to that truth. But before, things were different. Before, he was protecting you while you were still pure, still innocent in his eyes.

Now, it was after. After you had killed and killed for him. After he had hurtled to the ground and awoken to find the death his mate had caused. And he was still protecting you, defending you, despite it all.

Were you really worth this?

You were worth it before.

Now, you weren’t so sure.

On shaking legs, you shouldered your way out of the tent, breath caught in your lungs. The ringing from the battlefield returned to your ears, blocking out the conversations starting in your absence. The shadows stayed with you, twirling with alarm and flowing through your hair in an attempt to gain your attention.

A weapon. That explained you well—the ability to save lives and take them away. If they all considered you a weapon, where would you go? By Tamlin’s logic, being locked away would be best.

Maybe that was best.

You wondered what Azriel would think was best—where his weapon of a mate belonged. Because it was certainly no longer in the calmness of the home you shared.

Your shaking continued as you brought your hand up to your forehead. Azriel did that sometimes, when you were panicked or anxious or scared. He’d place his scarred touch on your forehead and lean your head up to grant you more air. He’d follow with his lips and then pull you into his arms, but you knew none of that was coming.

So you leaned forward and felt the sobs creeping up your chest to take the place of air. Your knees fell to the dirt and you collapsed into the feeling of your family, love, life changing forever.

Until the shadows retreated.

You glanced up when their swishing stopped and found another pair of knees pressing to yours in the dirt. The leathers covering them were fresher than yours, cleaner, but they were also wrapped in bandages and stabilizers that matched the ones along their ribs and stomach.

Another crane of your neck and Azriel was leaning down to catch your gaze, mouth parted. Maybe he’d been speaking for a while; the buzzing made it impossible to know.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, low and so, so concerned. Much more concerned than you deserved. Much more gentle than he had spoken in the tent.

And all you could think to say was, “I’m sorry,” and you sobbed out the words with gut-wrenching sincerity.

“I’m sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry. I never meant—I never wanted this—“

Azriel shushed you, his fingers working to guide your hair away from your face. You felt selfish for needing that from him as his body was bandaged and his wings were wrapped.

“I’m sorry I’m not who you thought I was. That I’m a monster. You were just falling so fast and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn't stop it,” you gasped out, giving in to your instincts as you grappled at the material of Azriel’s shirt. “I wanted to protect you and there was nothing I could do. You’re supposed to feel safe with me and I’ve ruined everything.”

With each word came more tears and more heaving breaths. Azriel held you through each of them, his hands firm at your elbows, his head shaking as you laid everything before him. Occasionally, your name fell from his lips in a soft whisper, but he never interrupted you.

“I’m not supposed to be this person to you. I’m supposed to be all of the good parts, and now I’m—now I’m someone else and you can’t—you’re not going to love all of the parts and—”

“Look at me, angel,” Azriel softly interrupted, sliding his fingers along your hairline, his eyes searching every inch of your face. When your gaze snapped to his, a bittersweet smile graced his pretty features. “There she is.”

A hysterical laugh left you, your emotions mingling with his as the bond flowed freely between you. You didn’t have the energy or willpower to block him out anymore. A rush of relief was sent through you as Azriel realized the opening.

“You are not a monster.” Azriel’s whisper was so clear, so close. “And I love every part of you, y/n. Especially the part I saw on that field. You saved me—protected our court and family. How could I not love that?”

“I saw your face,” you whispered back, the words brushing Azriel’s lips as your foreheads met. “You looked—”

“I looked disappointed in myself.”

“In yourself?”

Azriel brought both hands to your cheeks. “I lead you to that carnage. Y/n, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to take that load for you… to shoulder that burden.”

“You aren’t… disgusted by me?”

“My love, I love you more. What you did for me… you’re so strong. Cassian told me how amazing you were. Why have you never told me?”

You shifted back on your knees, blinking under Azriel’s adoring, forgiving gaze. The shadowsinger didn’t let you get far, however, sliding his hands down your jaw, your shoulders, and settling on the tops of your thighs.

Touching you, it seemed, was imperative.

“When we were mated,” you began, tears still lingering in your throat. “I was new to Prythian—new to having a family. Everyone kept telling me that we were equals in opposite. They said I was a blessing from the cauldron to be so different from you but so in love. And then you… you called me things like peace and safety and calm. I saw the work you did and I knew I couldn’t tell you what I was trained for. Being a healer was enough.”

The hands on your thighs tense. Azriel’s shadows pooled beneath you, swirling like a puddle of darkness.

“I never meant for you to hide,” he murmured.

“Azriel—”

“Never, angel. You could burn down the world and you’d still be my peace. You could be a weapon and I’d find my safety in you.”

He sighed out a disbelieving laugh.

“I love you,” he affirmed, eyes so sure. “I love you when you heal the broken and I love you when you decimate battlefields.” A small smirk. “I wish I had known about the second half a little sooner. I might not have teased you about your book choices as often.”

You scoffed, a watery smile finally lighting up your face. “Don’t start.”

“Should I tell you all the other times I should have been wary? Or maybe all of the reasons Cassian should be afraid now? It seems that’s the only way to get you to smile, and seeing as you are the reason we won the war, you should be doing far more of it.”

The bond shone within you, bursting with joy as a laugh escaped your lips—a real laugh. The sound was soon smothered by Azriel’s kiss, and you knew things were changing.

And that was okay.

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel angst

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calcifiedunderland · 8 months

Text

Shrimply Yours~

In which you invoke your shrimp privileges to cheer Floyd up.

Floyd x GN Reader! Enjoy, shrimpies!!~

—————

“Y’know Floyd, I’d say you’re the shrimp, not me.”

Maybe you really did have a death-by-squeezing wish. Or maybe your plot-armor protection had finally worn off. The eel in question lifted his head slowly at your words and side-eyed you, his golden eye glinting ominously in the Mostro Lounge kitchen’s light.

You’d been washing the dishes after asking Azul for a job in exchange for a little extra madol on the side. For the most part, your day had been as peaceful as it could’ve (the life of a magicless prefect was always maniacal), until you heard arguing from outside the kitchen. You all but jumped when Floyd slammed the door open and wordlessly stalked to the stove, and you spotted Azul walking off shaking his head to himself. Floyd shoved pan on the heat and began frying something, completely ignoring your presence. Was it even possible to fry chicken so aggressively?

In any case, Floyd seemed a little more volatile than usual at the moment, even considering it was him. The other students who’d been in the kitchen with you before had scuttled out before Floyd could snap at them too. But in any case, you knew that Floyd’s mood flipped faster than Crowley leaving all his work to you. So, you thought you’d try to lighten the mood.

At your words, Floyd slowly brought his head up from his deep-frying, golden-and-olive colored eyes zeroing in on you, baring his sharp, shiny teeth at you in a scowl. And in that split second, you suddenly remembered that Floyd was, in fact, a mer-eel. Moray, specifically. A predator. A predator that probably ate shrimpies like you. Who was now looking at you predatorily.

“What did ya just say, shrimpy?” His pupils were practically pin-pricks, and for a moment you swore you could hear the Jaws theme song in your head. You could remember, time and time again, your friends and upperclassmen telling you not to engage Floyd when he was in one of his moods. Even up until now, you’d never been on the awful end of his anger, especially alone. But you weren’t called beast-tamer for nothing, damn it, and maybe that title could extend to taming angry Floyd’s too. An angry Floyd that was still your friend.

“I said, you’re the shrimp, not me.” You maintained eye-contact with him, almost challenging him, ‘come at me, bro.’ You tried to keep a straight face, although you were deflating rapidly by the second because by Sevens this was so stupid but-

“Because you’re shrimply amazing.”

One second passed. Two. Three.

Then Floyd broke into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. He surged towards you, completely forgetting the frying food. “D’awww, SHRIMPY!!!”

He swooped behind you, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. Your legs flailed around and now your arms were locked in as Floyd spun around the kitchen haphazardly with you in his arms. “Shrimpy knows just how to cheer me up! I knew this is why I kept you around!” He laughed cheerily, bobbing you up and down.

“FLOYD!” You cried, “PUT ME DOWN-“ the kitchen swirled crazily around you, as Floyd babbled some song or other cheerfully. Thankfully he’d stopped spinning, but began shaking you side to side while humming, “Shrimpy’s so brave n’ nice, all the other guppies left when they saw me but only Shrimpy stayed!”

He started pouting, and squished his cheek into yours. “Azul was bein’ mean to me, making me work now. Just ‘cause I roughed up a few customers doesn’t mean it was my fault! They shoulda been nice to me~”

Even though you were basically suspended in the air by him, you smiled at Floyd’s words. “Glad I could help Floyd, that was so mean of Azul,” you consoled him, hoping he’d put you down. He bent over until your feet were safely on the sweet, sweet ground, but didn’t let you go from his arms. The two of you swayed together, basking in each other’s company in the subpar lighting of the kitchen, until you frowned.

“…Hey, is something burning?”

“Ah shit, I burned the chicken.”

———

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst yuu #floyd leech #twst floyd #twst floyd leech #twst floyd x reader #floyd leech x yuu #floyd leech x reader #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #mostro lounge #calcified writing

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livinginshambles · 4 months

Text

Hear me out, please |James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: The aftermath of when James found out you were his 'cinderella'. James tries desperately to get your attention to get you to hear him out. A tiny twist.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Timeline might be a little off, but magic so whatever i guess? Sorry for the long wait, I hope you guys will think it was worth it!!

Masterlist Part one Part two

___________________________________

A lot of things went through James' mind as he stood there in the Great Hall. You could hear a pin drop before Regulus finally shot into action and dashed out the hall to go after you.

The murmuring started to continue now that the first silence had been disturbed.

"Oh gosh, she's so dramatic," your sister laughed. And she put a hand on James' shoulder to pull him back to his seat.

James turned his head slowly. His attention zeroed in on the hand on his shoulder. He coiled away.

"What the fuck have you done," he spat at her.

Marla's eyebrows shot up. "We did you a favour," she stated, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

It sent James over the edge. He grabbed her upper arm and harshly shook it.

"A favour? A favour!?" He asked incredulously. His voice raised in volume. "What on earth is wrong with you!" He screamed and looked around; his eyes blown out. "With all of you!"

"You mean what the hell is wrong with you, James?" Your other sister, Alyssa, piped up. "Why are you defending her?" That last word was spat out with so much disgust that it opened finally James' eyes to what you must have endured. He fought the urge to slap her expression off her face.

James let go of Marla's arm and pushed her a few steps back while doing so.

No, he needed to fix this. He just had to. If you would just listen to him, he would explain it all. And then he'd protect you. From every hurtful comment out there.

If you would just let him.

"Regulus," James grimaced. The boy was blocking his path and view, standing in the doorway. You were out of sight, or at least out of James's sight.

"Potter," Regulus curtly nodded at him.

"I need to talk to her."

"You've said plenty."

James 'brows furrowed, and his jaw flexed. Why was everyone deciding everything for him all of a sudden? Why couldn't everyone just mind their own bloody business? If they had, none of this would have occurred.

He would be patrolling with you in the evening, and you would make him laugh about one of your dry remarks. He wouldn't have known that it was you who he was looking for, but in time, maybe he would've figured it out. Or maybe he would've pushed his mystery girl to the back of his mind to let you and all the new feelings in.

"Actually, I haven't. I haven't said enough because everyone is saying things in my place instead. But I never got the chance to say what I want to say, and every time I do, it seems too late. I just want to talk to her." The words flew out of James' mouth, built up regret, anger, and disappointment from how things had escalated.

"Perhaps you haven't said much." Regulus looked James up and down and weighed his words carefully. "And maybe that's part of the problem. But right now, she's certainly heard enough. She doesn't want your grand words."

James closed his eyes in frustration. He wanted to protest, he wanted to scream at himself and pull his hair out, but ultimately, he just wanted yet another chance.

He hadn't expected it to be you. Not at all, but the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more it seemed... right. And he didn't know why he had been so adamant to form some sort of relationship with you, but the way his heart blossomed when you were around only pulled him further in.

James looked at the ground, as if the solution to his problems would be written down there.

"Okay," he relented.

Without a moment of hesitation, Regulus went to slam the door in his face but stopped at the box that James held put to him.

"What's that supposed to be?" He flatly asked James.

With a heavy heart, James showed Regulus the pair of glass slippers that you had left behind at the Yule ball, and that he had so carefully carried around with him.

James searched for his words his. "I've been holding on to these to return them to their owner," he made an attempt at a smile but dropped it, feeling pathetic. He wondered if he looked as pathetic to Regulus as well.

"Well, I suppose I should return them, now that I've found her." James pushed the box into Regulus' hands, threw one glance past the boy in hopes to catch a glimpse of you, and rubbed his face with both hands as he dejectedly walked away from the Slytherin dormitory.

Perhaps he could try again later.

You stared at the glass slippers in your hand. It felt cool to the touch and looked so beautiful, but you couldn’t help the bitter taste left in your mouth. With one smooth movement, you threw and smashed one of the slippers against the wall opposite of your bed. It shattered in pieces, and you had to smile at that. Even with every spell to reenforce the glass so you could actually walk on it, it broke. Then you gathered every bit of frustration you had in you, and you screamed as hard as you could, tears flowing in frustration.

You hated that you were crying. But the sheer defeat and powerlessness that you felt was too overwhelming, your voice cracked mid-scream and you threw the other slipper to pieces in anger as well. It wasn’t even about the gossiping amongst the students anymore.

You were so tired; you actually couldn’t bring yourself to care about what everyone must be thinking right now. But your sisters and James. You dug your nails into your palm.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror and straightened your posture. With your hands, you smoothed out your frown, fixed your hair and put on a wide smile. All in all, you looked psychopathic, but anything was better than pathetic. You turned on your heel and got ready for your first morning class.

James watched your empty seat in Divination class. This was the only class in which the last two years were put together. He wondered if you would show up. But he knew you. Possible more than anyone. So, he knew that you would never miss a class, because you wanted perfect grades and a perfect attendance rate. You were just like that. Ambitious.

James mind replayed your words again. He was every worst characteristic of Gryffindor; you had said to him. ‘Arrogant, prideful, and reckless’.

Next to James, Sirius was also lost in thoughts. Your words resonated in his head as well. Prejudice creates a vicious cycle. It was true. Sirius’ eyes flickered towards the other empty seat where Regulus was supposed to be. He had completely abandoned Regulus, giving his brother the cold shoulder, and despising his elitist thoughts, undoubtedly created by his mother. Because he had abandoned Regulus.

Sirius wondered what would have happened if he had tried to maintain a good relationship with Regulus after having been sorted into Gryffindor. He wondered if he would have been able to convince Regulus to run away with him.

There was a knock on the door and Regulus walked in with a blank face. He nodded his head in apology at the Professor and took a seat. The door opened again, this time with a little more force.

“My sincere apologies, professor.” You wore a smile that sent chills up James’ back. His body almost involuntarily shot up to go up to you, but he caught himself, and he longingly looked at you as you passed by instead.

After having gotten used to your discrete gestures of acknowledgement in the form of waves, smiles, nods or even winks, James’ heart tugged when you didn’t spare him a glance. You graciously took a seat and motioned at Professor Trelawney to continue.

James jumped up when class was over. His belongings had long since been packed, and he dashed towards your leaving figure.

“Y/N!” he called out to you.

You turned around and looked him in the eye. All the words that James had prepared during the rest of class escaped his mind. James felt those chills again and he finally understood that in all his years with fights between the two of you, you had been petty, threatening to take points away. You had been angry, throwing insults back at him, and you had very much been a major asshole in general. But you had never been this hostile.

“Let me say this once, so we can all be done with it, and never talk about this again, Potter,” you sharply stated. “I am sorry that I wasn’t who you wanted me to be. However, let me make it clear that this was my secret and mine to share. And I made perfectly clear that I was not going to, so your blatant disrespect to publicly call me out the way you did, is simply appalling.”

Remus called James’ name and James made the mistake to look back. When he turned to you again, you were already further down the hall, turning the corner with a steady pace.

James didn’t see you around anymore until Thursday morning. His eyes basically lit up and he repeated his apology in his head. “L/N, wait,” James tried, and he chased after you. Unlike last time, you didn’t stop. Curious students watched you two pass while James tried to match your pace.

“Hear me out, please.”

“I said all I wanted to say, Potter. Let’s stay out of each other’s way from now on.”

“After you let me explain,” James pleaded.

You laughed. “Nothing you tell me will change my mind. I won’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.” You gave him an annoyed look.

Still, James was not planning on giving up. You weren’t the only determined one here. He grabbed your arm and dragged you into a room. Your eyes squinted and gave him the dirtiest look they could. James immediately let go of you, hands up in defence, a string of apologies following suit.

You glared at him and went to walk straight out of the room when James pulled you back again, and this time, he cupped the sides of your face, and pressed his lips to yours.

For a moment, you hesitated, utterly confused and surprisingly rather okay with the unwarranted kiss. And then anger hit you. Did he bloody think this would woo you, and sweep you off your feet and make everything alright? How dare he kiss you in attempt to manipulate you. You slapped him across the face in shock less than a second later. James blinked back at you in horror at his own actions.

“Godric, no- I- I am so bloody sorry, I shouldn’t have- I’m- I don’t know what went through my head, please wait-” You slammed the door in his face when you left. James hit his head softly against the door. And then he hit it again but a bit harder as he cursed. “What the hell is wrong with you mate,” he groaned to himself. “You bloody git.”

He stared at the dark wood of the door in front of him reluctantly. To be honest, he wouldn’t mind just staying in the room to rot away, how was he going to face you now?

“Lily, please go in my place,” he begged the redhead. “I’ll take your Tuesday shift, I promise.”

Lily shook her head. “Stop being a baby, James. You reap what you sow and I’m not patrolling tonight.” She walked past James and then turned back around.

“Some friendly advice, James, stop being so pushy. No is no, and it might have been cute as 11-year-olds, but not anymore. We’re no longer kids. But good luck.”

James reluctantly dragged himself towards the Great Hall where he could see you pick your nails in front of the door. He felt ashamed, guilty, and absolutely not ready to look you in the eye.

“Hi,” he awkwardly managed. “So about-“

“You’re late. Let’s get a move on it.” You cut him off.

“Right, yeah, we should do that- patrolling.”

It was quiet, not a word spoken between the two of you as James trailed half a step behind you. He glanced at the side of your face. Shadows and light flickered across your face every time you passed a torch.

The silence of the castle did him good, he realised. He’d much rather walk in silence next to you, than be in the midst of all that chaos that was going on right now. He smiled and stuffed his hands in his pocket happily.

“What are you smiling about,” you asked, a frown on your face.

“Hm? What? Oh, sorry.” The smile dropped of James’ face.

“Well, you don’t have to stop smiling because I said so,” you shot him a strange look. “I just wanted to know what’s so funny.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” A beat. And then, “Lily told me to stop trying to apologise to you if you don’t want to hear it.”

You considered his words. You supposed you mostly wanted someone to be angry at. You didn’t want to hear James out and then maybe see that your anger was misdirected. You wanted to stay bitter.

“I don’t.”

“Okay, well, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

Despite the fact that he hadn’t been able to apologise, and nothing had been cleared up between the two of you, both of you felt yourselves relax a little more. You continued to roam the corridors in silence.

The next three patrols were spent in the same basked silence, occasionally one or two words exchanged. James had so many things he wanted to tell you, but he didn’t want to ruin anything. And then you suddenly spoke up again.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

James perked up at your words. “Thank you,” he grinned at you gratefully. “Are you going to watch the game?”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be helping out in the infirmary.”

“Did you finish your herbal research then?”

Your eyes flickered up at him in surprise. “Yeah, Madame Pomfrey and I will put it to test.” James nodded along.

“Well, if you ever need a patient, I’d volunteer,” he joked. He watched in triumph as you shook your head in amusement.

“Better check your broom for hexes tomorrow,” you replied. “wouldn’t want you to fall off your broom and break a bone or two.” James snorted.

You pulled the curtain to the side with an exasperated expression. “I was only kidding Yesterday, Potter. What on earth are you doing here.”

James gave you a weak smile, trying to hide the pain in his arm and ribs. “Volunteering to be your very first patient, of course.”

“Tell me you didn’t break your bones on purpose,” you squinted your eyes at him.

“I didn’t break my bones on purpose,” James obediently replied. He shifted in curiosity as you rummaged through a cabinet. “Is this not fixable with any spells?” He pondered when he saw you pull out several vials.

“Externally, yes. But you’d be in the same excruciating pain as if they were still broken. You motioned towards the vials. “Hence the herbal potions.”

“Is that the one with the Nettle and Dittany?” James nodded his head to the bottle on the left.

You hummed in approval, not bothering to hide the fact that you were impressed. “Who knows, Potter. Maybe you have a future of a healer as well.” James beamed in pride at your compliment.

“Just keeping my options open.” James sighed happily. He was glad that he could joke around with you again. You tapped a bottle against his cheek. He let you pour the potion into his mouth.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.” You pulled out a stool and sat down with a notebook in case you needed to take notes of the effects of the potion. At one point, you must have fallen asleep with your face buried on James’ infirmary bed. A strand of hair was tickling your nose and you huffed to get it out of the way. James shifted to tuck it away with his non-injured hand.

You opened your eyes and jumped up. You looked around disoriented and when your eyes landed on James, who had tilted his head, you felt embarrassment creep up on you. “I’m terribly sorry, that was unprofessional of me. Are you feeling any better?”

James nodded. He sat up to prove it, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “All better. And if you get to apologise, so do I, right?” He looked at you hopefully, internally praying that you wouldn’t just march out straight away. “Will you hear me out?”

You sighed, knowing what would come next, but this time you sat down on the stool again instead of walking away.

“I didn’t know.” When you didn’t respond, he repeated himself. “I didn’t know it was you, and I didn’t know it was going to be published in the newspaper because I wouldn’t do that- you know that I wouldn’t.”

He looked at you and saw you staring back at him. He took it as a sign to continue and cleared his throat. It felt so dry all of a sudden. You quietly reached for a cup of water and handed it to him. James took a sip, a deep breath, and started to ramble on without breaks.

“Sirius found your parchment and then you sisters found it too, but I didn’t. I really didn’t. Sirius said they had already run off and he tried to fix it on his own, so he didn’t tell me, and I only found out right before you did and I would never have written such a mean article about you, because we’re friends- well, at the very least I considered us friends- and I just wanted you to like me because-” James stopped.

“What, you fancy me?” you rhetorically commented.

James’ heart stopped and his face flushed. “No, of course not! I just- Well, I don’t know- It’s, uh I guess I just,” James tried to form a coherent answer, trying to weigh what answer would scare you away.

You frowned and let your eyes flicker across his face. “Stop it,” you shook your head in denial.

“Would it be so bad?” James murmured. “I didn’t know. But I know I liked the girl behind the paper. And I know I liked my patrol partner.” He hesitated and took a step forward. “I think you liked me too, before you knew my name.”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Before I knew your name. Once I learned it, I no longer did,” you lied. “Because we would never work. Every student said so. All the whispers and comments, insults and rumour were right.”

James shook his head.

“So, date me to spite them. Prove them wrong,” It was a pathetic attempt, but he saw the consideration flash in your eyes, and the more he thought about it, the more he started to get convinced that this was a decent idea.

“You’d have us enter a fake relationship to spite everyone?”

“It wouldn’t be fake to me,” James shrugged, getting more confident by your open attitude. “And who knows, maybe I can convince you that the guy from the paper is still inside of me.”

“This is so stupid,” you shook your head.

“Guess what,” Sirius asked Remus, he covered the page of the book Remus was reading to capture his attention.

Remus slapped Sirius’ hand away. “What,” he replied curtly. Sirius moved to sit on the table of the library. “Are you angry?”

“Mildly annoyed, yes.”

“Because…” Sirius trailed off unsurely. He hoped that Remus would finish the sentence for him, which, luckily for Sirius, Remus did.

“Because I think it’s time you guys stop pestering her. I know you planned to get James in the infirmary. Leave her be, you’ve done enough damage as it is.” He sounded disapproving. Sirius dropped himself back on the table, laying across it as if he was a sacrifice on an altar.

“Prongs likes her.”

“Yeah? Well, he’s handling it terribly,” Remus drily remarked. He took off his glasses and started to wipe them with the hem of his sweater. Sirius patted his pockets, reached into his left one and handed Remus a cleaning cloth for glasses.

“Why are you guys nice to me,” Remus asked quietly.

“What are you talking about Moony, you’re our best friend?”

“I know, but why?” Remus lowered his voice. “I’m a werewolf, aren’t I? I’m a literal monster. So why are you nice to me. But somehow feel the need to keep pranking and bullying Slytherin students? We’re in our last year. Don’t you think we should grow up?” And with ‘we’, he meant ‘Sirius and James’.

‘I know, Moony.”

“Do you now?”

“I think I’m going to talk to Regulus.”

Remus choked on his spit. “I’m sorry, Pads, you’re what?”

“I just don’t want to be like L/N’s siblings. I know I sort of am, but I don’t want to be. And you said we should start being nicer right?”

“Pads, last time you said something to him, he literally hexed you.”

“I insulted him,” Sirius heard himself say and he felt weird for a moment.

“He’s after your ass during every Quidditch game, trying to knock you off your broom.”

“Well, that’s just the point of Quidditch,” Sirius defended again.

Remus smiled at Sirius. “Alright, just be careful. Mid-terms are coming up and I’m too busy with studies to fix you up again.”

Sirius grinned. “If all goes well with Prongs, I could ask L/N to patch me up.” Remus threw a quill at him. “I think I’ll go find L/N later, see if she knows where my brother is.”

The door opened and Remus looked behind him. He did a double take and put his glasses back on to make sure he was seeing things correctly. Sirius was still laying on the table, looking at the ceiling.

“I think I’ve found her,” Remus remarked, uncertainly.

Sirius sat up and gaped at the sight on you and James, walking into the library together while talking. James was holding a pile of books and by the colour of the cover, he knew that those were not James’.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

You looked up in alarm at the words and found Sirius and Remus sitting at a table in the corner. “We talked it out,” you nonchalantly mentioned. Remus gave you a smile and Sirius just stared at you. Then; “Hell yeah, Prongs, I knew you had it in you to confess.” Sirius jumped off the table and patted you on the back with a grin.

You laughed back uncertainly and looked at James with questioning eyes. James looked back at you, reassuringly. He moved all of your books to one hand and guided you to a seat with the other.

“Where’s Regulus,” Sirius asked immediately as soon as you sat down.

You raised your eyebrows. “He’s in the astronomy tower. Didn’t want to join James and I to the library.” You smiled at recollection of the younger Black’s reaction to you and James.

“No way.” He had replied. “What are you two planning?” James had looked at Regulus with an offended look. “What are you talking about? I fancy Y/N and she fancies me, so we decided to make it official.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe you fancy Y/N, but there is just no way she would enter a relationship with you of all people. What’s the deal.”

Sirius nodded. “Well,” he started, “I mean, if he wants to, he uh, the library is a public space, so he could join. If he wants.” Sirius awkwardly sat down on a chair. You squinted your eyes at him. “I’ll be sure to let him know,” you said. You watched as Sirius puffed out a sigh in relief.

You glanced down at the messy scribbles on Sirius’ paper and raised your eyebrows. You’d imagined that the elder Black would have a better handwriting than that. “Anyway, do you need help with Transfiguration as well?”

The news of your relationship spread like fire. Your sisters both received it with a sour look on their faces. “He’ll see we were right, and he’ll leave you again,” they said, purposely loud enough for you to hear it. James had just entered the room and walked straight past them towards you with a flower. He dropped it next to you and sat down beside you.

Against your will, your heart made a small jump and the corners of your mouth tugged upwards. James’ eyes flickered towards your lips and quickly looked away happily. Then he leaned in a little and whispered, “We’re not breaking up if it’s up to me.”

He shifted in his seat, subtly scooting over closer to you. “Go on a date with me tonight,” James whispered.

“We don’t have time tonight. Patrol, remember?” You argued back.

James grinned and shook his head. “Afterwards.”

“It’s past bedtime afterwards. I will not-”

“Sneak around the castle and get caught, I know. But you forget that I have an invisibility cloak.”

You laughed this time. “I’m almost tempted to take 20 points off Gryffindor for your outrageous plan.” Your eyes twinkled and James joined in. He put his hand over his heart in fake shock. “You wouldn’t do that to your boyfriend,” he squinted his eyes, challenging you.

“If he misbehaves,” you answer amusedly. But then you hummed in thought. “Fine, I’ll bite, what do you have in mind.”

James’ grin widened. “The lake’s still frozen,” he whispered. You deadpanned. “I can’t skate.”

James leaned his head against you. “Exactly, it’s the perfect chance for me to show you my gentlemanly skills and woo you.” You turned your head and breathed in the smell of James’ shampoo. "You just want an excuse to hold my hand," you mumbled in his hair. You could feel James smile against your shoulder. “I’m your boyfriend, I don’t need excuses,” he joked.

James swore his heartrate sped up an unhealthy amount when you confirmed, “No you don’t.”

He was absolutely beaming next to you as you were patrolling down the corridor, hand in hand. Your eyes flickered over to James once in a while. It was suspicious to you that he’d been quiet the entire time. James on the other hand was just looking at your intertwined hands with interest.

“Never held hands with a girl before, Potter?” You laughed, but no venom was found in your voice.

James nodded. “Never held hands with a girl before,” he confirmed, not ashamed at all for it. Why should he. You looked at him with curiosity. “What about Lily?”

James snorted. “Have you ever seen us hold hands?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’.

“I was stressing a lot about being a good boyfriend, my hands got really sweaty,” James bashfully explained. You lifted both your hands and squeezed his hand a few times. “You don’t stress about being a good boyfriend for me?” you couldn’t help but ask. You immediately groaned internally and looked straight to the floor, intently watching your feet as they simply fascinatingly put one in front of the other. I mean, have you ever seen something so-. James wasn’t having it.

“’m not stressing with you. I have a pretty good feeling about us.” He sighed contently. You huffed. “Well, I have high standards, and I’ve been told I’m pretty high maintenance, Potter.” You stuck your nose in the air haughtily.

“First, you should stop calling me Potter,” he remarked.

“James,” you nodded. A chill ran up his spine. “And second?” you inquired.

“Second?”

“Second,” you looked at him expectantly.

“Oh! Right, second; I didn’t know you had a relationship before?” And just as soon as those words left his lips, he cussed himself out in his head. Great, now he seemed either a twat as if he couldn’t believe someone like you could have a relationship, or a twat who was jealous and obsessive. And it’s only the first week. James averted his eyes to the wall on his left. Ah yes, the wall seems to be made of stone. Very sturdy, very wall-like-

“No, I’ve been single pretty much my whole life.” You put on your usual sour face, and vaguely gestured to it. “Not very approachable, as I prefer.”

“Then who calls you high maintenance?” James thought bitterly, feeling the need to defend you. “Calm down, prince Charming,” you reassured him with a laugh. Maybe you could see the charm in his recklessness. “I can fight my own battles. And basically, everyone calls me high maintenance.”

The two of you walked side by side in silence again, making your way to the prefect room. You rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a document and started to fill it in. James leaned against the table. “Where do you go during Spring Break? Do you stay at Hogwarts? Because I can also stay at Hogwarts to keep you company, you know.”

“I have my own apartment.”

“You’re not even of age yet,” James pointed out, trying to hide his disappointment unsuccessfully at a missed opportunity of spending time with you.

“Professor McGonagall vouched for me,” you replied. James’ eyebrows flew up. “McGonagall?” He asked in disbelief. You just hummed in reply while you flipped the page to continue filling in the report.

“Well, if you want you can come with me?” You stopped writing and looked up at him intently. As if you were searching his face for any hidden intentions. When you didn’t find any, you gave him an apologetic look.

“That’s kind of you, James,” you smiled. “But I have Regulus staying with me.”

“He doesn’t stay at the Black manor?” James was surprised. You tilted your head. “Tell me, does Sirius stay at the Black manor?”

James quickly shut his mouth as realization dawned on him. Oh.

“Well,” he awkwardly shifted. “You’re both welcome,” he offered. You shook your head in laughing at the mental image. The thought of Regulus and Sirius living together for two weeks was just hilarious.

“I’m done, we can go.”

“Alright, I just need to pick up my invisibility cloak from the Gryffindor common room.”

“I’ll wait here,” you nodded. James offered you a strange look.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him.

“You’re not going with me?”

“What all the way up to the third floor? I think not,” you snorted, plopping down on a chair, and making yourself comfortable.

James huffed and didn’t move. “But what if something happens to me on the way there?” He dramatically sat down next to you on a different chair.

“What on earth could happen to you on the way to your room. This is Hogwarts, you know. The safest place in England probably.”

“What if a monster attacks me, and then I can’t come back, and you’ll think that I stood you up?” James retorted with a pout.

You shook your head and pinched the bridge of you nose. “There are no monsters in this castle, James, where do you think we are? You’re not going to run into a Basilisk on your way.”

James squinted his eyes at you. “But can you promise me that with 100% certainty?” You rolled your eyes in response. “Of course not, but would you take me with you and expose me to such dangers?” you sarcastically retorted.

“Well, technically speaking, and I’m not saying all Slytherins,” James held up his hands at your narrowed eyes. “Snakes are kind of your thing, right?” You closed your eyes. “Charming, you are. Let’s just go,” you sighed.

James grinned in victory as he held the door open for you. “For the record, I would totally protect you from a Basilisk.”

“If you say so.”

Sirius sat up in bed when the door opened, but no one came in. “Hey Prongs, how was ice skating?”

James removed the invisibility cloak to reveal your shivering form. Both of you drenched from head to toe, water still dripping from the locks in front of his eyes. “Got pulled under,” he stressed. “I didn’t know where to take her, I couldn’t let her clean record be tainted for being out past bedtime because of me, and I don’t know the Slytherin password, so I brought her here,” he started to ramble in a loud whisper.

Remus grumbled as he sat up too. “Bloody hell, Prongs, did you take her to the black lake or what?” And when James didn’t respond, “Mate, what is wrong with you.” He got up and walked to the bathroom to get a few dry towels to wrap you in.

James discarded his soaked clothes and dried himself off before putting on pyjamas. Then the three of them stared awkwardly at each other. “Well, she needs to get out of those cold clothes,” Remus remarked. Sirius stepped back. “Yeah, not my girl, not my duty,” he walked over to his bed and dropped down on it.

“Right.”

You woke up and the first thing you noticed was the red colours all around you. You sat up suddenly and blinked a few times. What happened? Oh, right. A hand had broken through the ice, wrapped itself around your ankle and harshly pulled you down into the freezing depths. So that means you’re either dead, or James got you out and brought you to the Gryffindor dorms instead of the infirmary because he kept your clean records in mind. Your heart filled with appreciation at the thought of that.

You looked around and found James on the floor next to you. He was curled up in an extra blanket, but it must be uncomfortable. You went to pull out your wand when you realised that you were wearing his sweater. The little shit changed your clothes, you huffed.

You quietly got up, found your clothes drying in the bathroom and slipped out your wand. With a quick levitation spell, you gently tucked James back into his own bed. Your eyes fell on the two parchments on the nightstand, and you allowed a nostalgic smile to adorn your face. You moved his hair out of the way and let your eyes rest on his peaceful face. Realising you were being creepy, you hastily turned around and snuck out of the room with your clothes and a rolled-up parchment.

“And where have you been,” Regulus sat on the common room armchair in front of the door. He looked like he hadn’t properly slept, and his tone was sharp. “And what atrocity are you wearing. Tell me you didn’t sleep with him?”

“You’re my brother, Regulus, not my mother,” you teased him. You pulled out a chair to sit next to him. “And no, I went skating, fell into the water, blacked out and woke up alive in the Gryffindor dorm. So don’t hex James, if anything you can thank him.”

There was a beat of silence. “I’m glad you’re okay, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you. Did you stay up all night?”

“Yes, but mostly because I wanted to tell you something.” You didn’t immediately reply, waiting for Regulus to continue on his own instead.

“Sirius came up to the astronomy tower yesterday evening,” he quietly said. His voice sounded confused, as if he was still unsure of what had actually occurred.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay,” Regulus immediately said. “It’s just that he apologized.” He shrugged. “You think he meant it?”

You thought it over. “I think he did. He asked me last week you know. Where you are, and that if you ever want to join us in the library, you can.” Regulus nodded deep in thought.

“You know, James actually invited both of us over for the Spring Break.” You looked at Regulus to gauge his reaction to that. He looked slightly interested, though he tried to hide it.

“I suppose it’s still a month away, so we’ll see what we want then.”

You nodded and then got up off the chair. “I’m going to change into something else, before my fellow house students want to jinx me,” you said.

“You’re dating James Potter; people already want to jinx you.”

You winked at him. “Well, I’ll be damned, you’re absolutely right. Isn’t that funny? You know what, let them try,” you challenged them as you smoothened James’ sweater.

James woke up and sat up straight in bed, confused. How did he get here? He Looked at the end of his bed and saw it still neatly tucked in- hospital corners. His lips twitched up. You had left, he realised, but you’d tucked him in. He let himself fall back onto his pillow and turned his head to the side. Then he frowned, put on his glasses, and grabbed the parchment. In your lovely handwriting was a message.

Maybe not a Basilisk, but you protected me as you said. Thank you, James. (All things considered, I enjoyed last night.)

James’ eyes traced the words before he carefully placed the parchment under his pillow with a giddy feeling in his heart.

James found you in the library with Remus. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that you were still wearing his sweater. Red looked out of place on you and James absolutely loved it. Sirius shared a look with him and then the both of them decided to sneak up on the two of you, simultaneously stealing your books from under you.

You and Remus narrowed your eyes at the both of them. “I am this close to kicking you guys.” You held up your hand to show your thumb and finger pressed together. James shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But they’re touching,” he hesitantly responded. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and quickly handed Remus both your books back.

You sarcastically faked a gasp. “Oh, Merlin, you’re right, they appear to be.”

James cheekily grinned and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You wouldn’t hurt your knight in shining armour,” he bragged, but without any real arrogance laced in his tone. You flipped him off with a grin and pulled out a chair for him next to you. “You’re late,” you airily said.

Sirius suddenly straightened up, his attention fixed on someone behind you. You turned around and waved Regulus over. “Come join us, Reg.”

Three weeks flew by in a blur, but- even though you’ve said this so often now- your were really enjoying your time at Hogwarts again. People’s gossips and predictions about yours and James’ relationship had turned into quiet whispers and envy.

James stood up for you on multiple occasions- after letting you have a go at the imbeciles of course. You had finally gone to a Quidditch game to support James, though of course not when they were playing against Slytherin. You had spent more time in the infirmary and James had joined you a few times by hanging out on one of the empty beds, occasionally handing you an ingredient such as Wolfsbane.

After having established that you absolutely loved hugs, James was always less that a step behind you, ready to give you the affection that you were too proud for to admit you wanted. You had been a frequent visitor to the boys’ dorms as well, making yourself comfortable in James’ arms as you dozed off for a nap. On other nights, you have even managed to persuade Regulus to join a handful of times as well. You wondered what would happen when James would graduate before you, but tried not to think much of it.

“So, we are definitely going to Hogsmeade together this week, right?” James popped up behind you and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“How scandalous, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, why? You have a boyfriend or something?” James humoured you.

“Or something,” you joked. The innocent comment hit both you and James at the same time. A reminder that you two were in fact technically not really dating. You shook the thought away.

“I’ll see you at 11 o’clock,” you replied.

James grinned, “I’ll be there five minutes earlier.”

True to his words, he was waiting for you in the courtyard when you arrived on the dot. James offered you his arm and you linked yours through his.

“James?” James hummed in reply. “Does your offer about Spring Break still stand? I mean, I know it’s next week already, and it’s sort of short notice-”

James perked up. “Yes!” he said, a little too quickly and enthusiastic. He cleared his throat and lowered his volume. “Yes, you and Regulus can still come.”

You sighed and nodded in relief. “Right, because Reg and I have been talking and we might take you up on that offer.”

It was evening by the time you and James made your way back to Hogwarts. James had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you held his hand. James pressed a kiss to your temple every now and then. “What happened to the glass slippers?” He suddenly asked.

“They broke.”

“They broke?”

“Yep.”

“But didn’t you enchant them?”

“I did, but I was so angry at you that I smashed them to pieces against the wall like over two months ago.”

“Oh… But have you changed your mind since then?” James decided to finally ask you.

“About what?”.

“Me, and us.”

You looked at James and quietly admired him. James kept his eyes straight in front of him, too scared to look at you and see your reaction.

“Well, we are walking together, coming back from Hogsmeade. There’s not a student in sight and yet we are still holding hands,” You light-heartedly replied with a teasing smile. You squeezed his hand for good measure. It seemed enough to make James look at you.

“I’d say we’re pretty good friends-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You froze in your tracks and let go of James’ hand. Well, that took you by surprise. Fancying someone and claiming to be in love with someone- not loving but being in love- that was a next level. You smiled amusedly, successfully hiding your insecurities. “James, you’re not in love with me.”

James frowned at your response. He’d accept your rejection, but not you doubting his feelings.

“Yes, I am,” he stubbornly responded.

“No, you’re not,” you retorted, equally stubborn.

“Am too.”

“You’re not, James,” you exasperatedly said. “You’re not in love, you just fancy me because you’re comfortable.” You shrugged awkwardly. "And you only feel comfortable with me because I know so much about you. Because you poured your heart out to a stranger, and it so happened to be me.”

James bit his cheek, considering your words. Then he grinned and nodded. Your heart dropped, but not as much as it could have, because you had already prepared yourself for this. The joy behind setting yourself up for disappointment by never letting yourself get your hopes up.

“Yeah, I’m really comfortable with you.” He agreed. “Isn’t that great? Isn’t that love too? Being comfortable to the point you don’t feel the need to keep secrets anymore, where you feel the most accepted? The most at ease?”

You stared at James then cleared your throat. “So, when did you start being all knowledgeable and romantic?”

James snorted. You were adorable when you were awkward. “I’m the most comfortable with you,” he earnestly confessed to you. He carefully, as if to not scare you away, put a step forward and reached for your hand. He squeezed it softly. I mean it.

James felt you pull your hand back and bit his lip, forcing it to curl up into an accepting smile. “Right,” he cleared his throat as he tried to form a reply. But you weren’t done yet. You pulled back your hand and then threw both your arms around James’ neck as your brought him in a tight hug. You dipped your head down into the crook of his neck.

“And I’m the most vulnerable with you,” you mumbled against his skin. James sighed in relief, happiness, and love. He wrapped his arms around you protectively, as if to shield you in response.

You tilted your head sideways as you looked at James who was in front of you, down on one knee in your garden. James looked beautiful. His cheeks were slightly coloured from the cold and his hands held a small box with a ring.

“Love?” He asked, waving his hand in front of you, trying to get your attention. He didn’t sound nervous at all, in fact, he felt the most relaxed he’d ever been. This was definitely the future he’d imagined when he’d watched you laugh with his dad while bringing in the groceries. “My knee is getting numb from the cold, love. So, if you could just say yes or no,” he cheekily grinned.

You hummed in thought and then you replied, “Well, isn’t marriage a little too soon?” Your grin widened and spread across your face. “I mean, you’ve yet to officially ask me to be your real girlfriend.”

“Wait what-”

The end :)

Taglist:

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cathwritestragediesnotsins · 2 years

Text

Boundaries had been crossed. The line between friends and significant others was blurry, so blurry you weren’t even sure it existed anymore.

Neither of you had ever voiced it; never said those three words or asked the other to be yours. But you both knew. You knew because of the way he touched you, tender and comforting when he barely touched anyone else let alone gently, and in how he let you touch him back. You knew it because if the way you both would do anything to make each other happy; because of the 5am sparring sessions he talked you into and the shitty comedies he insisted he hated yet still watched with you.

You were together.

But neither of you seemed willing to confess that your relationship had long ago crossed the threshold from close friends to lovers.

And then one day he finally said it out loud.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t known that you were something special to him, but hearing it said out loud, by him, the Bakugou Katsuki, who never admitted to any feelings other than anger, acknowledging that he loved you, made a warm happiness spread through your body the first time he referred to you as his partner.

And then suddenly, once it was out in the open it was like a tidal wave had been unleashed. There was no going back, no returning to the grey area your relationship had been stuck in for so long. So then it was everywhere, spreading, and weaving it’s way into the very fabric of your lives.

“That’s my partner dumbass”

“Thanks it’s my boyfriend’s jacket”

“I already have a partner, get lost”

If your friends weren’t so happy that you two had finally made it official they would’ve killed you for taking every possible chance to claim each other as your own in every conversation.

Nothing about your relationship really changed, you both acted the same, did the same things you always did, with the exception of a kiss here or there.

But now you were official, you were his and he was yours, and that extra reassurance meant everything. You couldn’t have been happier.

#posts by cath #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x gn!reader #bakugou katsuki #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #ground zero #dynamight #bkg #anime #x reader #mha x reader #friends to lovers #I love this troupe #where they’re basically already dating

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connorsoddsock · 1 year

Text

Detroit: Ground Zero | Ch. 3 (Connor x fem!reader)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity (as usual), descriptions of blood and gore, descriptions of death

A/N: Heed the warnings for this chapter, please! This story is only going to get darker, so I may only post on AO3, with only chapter teasers for Tumblr in future... we'll see!

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Chapter Three: Gone

You woke up the next day disoriented and squinting as the early morning sunlight filtered in through the windows of the Detroit Police Department. At some point in the night, the battle to stay awake became too difficult, and you’d slipped off into dreamland with your head resting on Hank’s desk. But, of course, that didn’t explain how you’d ended up lying sideways on a row of chairs lining the wall with someone’s jacket slung over your form.

It was all coming back to you now – the café, the streets, the zombies.

You sat up with a groan and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were quick to spot Fowler pacing in his glass office, mumbling lowly into his phone. The man looked unbelievably tired, but he still acknowledged you with a slight nod when he saw you were awake before returning to the person on the other end of the line.

Then, there was Gavin leaning back in a chair on the opposite side of the bullpen, eyes closed with his arms crossed and his legs resting across what you assumed was probably his desk. You noticed he no longer wore his leather jacket, but it wasn’t the one currently draped over you. You eventually spotted it, thrown carelessly atop a counter cabinet in the centre of the room, still very much covered in blood.

You couldn’t see Nines anywhere, but Hank now occupied the desk you were at last night, scrolling through something on his terminal while Connor sat beside him with his eyes closed and his blue LED flickering. His jacket was missing, leaving him in a crisp white button-down that did little to hide his lean frame. You gingerly lifted the one off your torso, eyes widening when you spotted the faint blue glow of the notorious armband and logo.

You shot up a little too abruptly, legs wobbling in protest. “Ah, shit…”

“Mornin’, kid,” Hank acknowledged, his blue eyes barely leaving the terminal. “How’d you sleep?”

Connor stirred beside him, brown eyes fluttering open. He regarded you with that same small smile from last night, the one you liked a little too much.

You rubbed the back of your neck, “Surprisingly well, aside from the fact that my neck hurts like a bitch.”

“Happens to the best of us,” the lieutenant chuckled. “Feel free to help yourself with some coffee or whatever in the break room. There’re doughnuts, too, if the others haven’t eaten ‘em.”

You nodded before looking back to Connor, who, to your surprise, was still watching you. You flushed and held his jacket out to him, quietly muttering your thanks as he accepted it. His fingers gently brushed over yours, and you flinched at the contact. He seemed to notice this, for his brow furrowed slightly in question.

“I did what I could with your jacket, but I suggest a dry clean for a more effective option.” He remarked, choosing not to comment on your jumpiness. “I hung it over the door for you.”

“Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to do that...”

“I think mine could use a wash, too, don’t you think, tin can?”

Your eyes rose to meet Gavin’s as he swung his legs down from his desk, fully awake now. The talking must have woken him.

You rolled your eyes, “What’s with that?”

“What’s with what?” He replied.

“The stupid little nickname,” you clarified. “Tin can? Really?”

“Why? You one of those android sympathisers or something?”

“I mean, it’s free not to be an asshole.”

An obnoxious laugh fell past his lips, “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, doll?”

Connor piped up this time, “She wasn’t on a bed, Detective Reed.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, tin can-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, would ya?” Hank groaned, pulling back from his terminal with a frown directed at the three of you. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, “It’s way too early for this shit.”

A quick glance at your watch told you it was half-six.

Gavin’s lips curled into a shit-eating grin as his eyes fell on you again, sending you an infuriating wink. You rolled your eyes for the second time and marched off to the break room, where the other three officers were tucking into their doughnuts and coffee. They greeted you, offering you a box of sweet treats to browse through while they introduced themselves.

“I’m Officer Person,” the female officer said warmly. She gestured to the others, “These two are Officers Lewis and Wilson.”

They nodded at you, and you waved, “Hey.”

Person nudged your arm as she leaned over, a hand blocking the view of her mouth as she pretended to whisper. “I’d take the whole box if I were you. These two here are dubbed the department’s ‘doughnut kings’ – and trust me, it’s not a compliment.”

Lewis grinned sheepishly around a mouthful of food while Wilson scoffed, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll remember that the next time Fowler orders those custard-filled Krispy Kremes you like.”

You giggled into your hand as a round of bickering ensued and left them to it, so you could fumble around in the kitchen for a bit, deciding to make yourself some hot chocolate. You absently paid attention to the news segment playing on the wall-mounted TV. It was only quiet, but you didn’t need to hear to know what they were talking about. Disturbing videos of people recording the infected – this was the official term for them now – wandering around outside their homes; others were holed up in offices, fast food restaurants, and so on.

The screen transitioned to another news chopper hovering above a ritzy neighbourhood you’d travelled past many times. The well-known freelance reporter, Joss Douglas, was talking up a storm, eyes wide as he gestured to the building in the background. The cameras then zoomed into a black chopper in the distance – SWAT?

That can’t be good, you thought with apprehension.

The others were paying attention, too, now. More hovering and talking, and suddenly, there was a thunderous booming sound. The camera shook violently before the live feed cut out to a black screen, and it wasn’t long before you heard the real thing in the distance, startling you as the ground rumbled beneath your feet. Your cup slipped out of your hand, spilling hot chocolate everywhere.

The reaction was instant. Chairs in the bullpen rolled back as their owners stood, alarmed, and Captain Fowler stormed out of his office with a slam of the door against the railing. Lewis, Person and Wilson went to join him in the bullpen, and you froze, unsure of what to do. A series of hushed shouting ensued, mainly between Fowler and Hank, so you decided to stay in your temporary safe haven until they finished hashing it out.

That is until you saw Nines. The tall android was lingering in the hallway; his eyes narrowed and calculating as he watched the scene unfold before him. His stance was rigid, his arms practically pinned to his side.

Was he there the whole time?

You wondered what was going through his mind. Was he worried? Anxious? Was he itching to get out in the field and regain some semblance of control? He looked like that kind of person. Someone that liked to be in control – liked order. Of course, you knew next to nothing about deviated androids and their personalities, so you were going purely off his appearance here.

Icy eyes suddenly met yours, and you faltered, quickly moving to clean up the mess you’d made. You could feel the burn of his eyes lingering on the back of your neck as you knelt down, preying he couldn’t tell how fast your heart was racing. What was it about him that… unsettled you?

Someone called your name, “Are you all right?”

It was Connor. He was crouching beside you with a trash can for the soiled paper towels. You subtly peeked around him, somewhat relieved to find Nines had disappeared again.

“Y-yeah, just startled, that’s all. What’s going on?”

“The government has issued an official warning to evacuate central Detroit. The military has set up a quarantine zone for survivors on the city’s outskirts.”

“Shit,” your shoulders slumped at the news.

You still haven’t heard anything from your parents yet. Should you try calling again? Should you bite the bullet and head over to the hospital?

Connor was quick to notice your hesitance. “I highly recommend going to the quarantine zone,” he insisted. “It’s the safest option for you.”

“What about you?” You asked after some thought. “Where will you go?”

Your question seemed to throw him off guard, his brown eyes flitting up to yours. There was something unreadable in his expression.

“I go where Hank goes.”

Your lips twitched into a smile at his response. Their father-son dynamic was really quite adorable. Your neck craned back slightly to maintain eye contact with him as he straightened up beside you, the last of the mess finally cleaned up.

“You reckon he’ll mind if I tag along?”

He returned your smile then. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

The two of you joined the others back out in the bullpen after Connor kindly offered to rewrap your wounded palms and make you another hot chocolate. You’d stood at the bar tables yet again as he moved around the break room with surprising fluidity, blatantly checking him out every time his back was turned. It was difficult not to when there was nothing else to focus on.

Someone else had joined the ranks, you noticed – or re-joined the ranks, that is. Chris – the officer who’d stayed behind at the café – had returned, standing beside Gavin with folded arms. He looked a little worse for wear (no different to Fowler) as he nodded along to whatever his co-worker was saying to him. You didn’t know him, but you were glad he was safe. You could only wonder what happened to the others at the café and made a mental note to ask him later.

You tuned into Fowler’s words.

“Since shit’s hit the fan, I want all of you to take what you need. Head office has bigger things to worry about than some missing equipment. If things continue the way they are, then I doubt it’ll matter anyway...” He drifted off.

“Appreciate it, Sir,” Officer Wilson said gratefully. He clapped his superior on the shoulder, “I’m sure we’ll catch up at the QZ anyway, right?”

“I’m heading straight there!” Officer Person chimed in, “I haven’t got any family to worry about here.”

You wished you could say the same. You could only hope yours had gotten the message and were on their way already.

“Alright, folks,” Fowler continued, looking disgruntled. “Do what you need to do, and for God’s sake, stay safe out there.”

Everyone was quick to disperse after that, quietly muttering to each other as they prepared to leave. You sat quietly at Hank’s desk once again after retrieving your jacket from the restroom door. The dark blood stains were noticeable, but it would have to do for now. Depending on what way Hank was heading, perhaps you could ask to stop at your apartment building if it wasn’t overrun. You could change into better clothing, and you couldn’t leave your cats to suffer.

Hank eventually joined you with a DPD-issued duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He inclined his head towards you, “Connor says you want to come with us?”

“If you don’t mind, of course.”

He chuckled, “Heh, if you don’t mind being squished in the backseat with him, then knock yourself out!”

“He’s not sitting shotgun?” You asked, finding it odd.

“He usually does, but Nines is coming, too. He’s bigger than Connor, so I figured I’d stick him up the front. Save you from being flattened and all.”

You pursed your lips. If Hank and Connor liked him enough to let him tag along, then surely, he was alright. On the other hand, perhaps you’d judged him too quickly. He could be the sweetest guy out there for all you knew.

It wasn’t long before the two androids joined you and Hank, Nines also shouldering a large duffle bag. You followed them as they led the way to the car. It was unnervingly quiet in the station’s garage, your footsteps echoing along with theirs. Your eyes widened when Hank unlocked his car. Finally, it dawned on you why he was so amused about you being squished in the back.

He pulled his seat forward so you could climb in. Once Connor hopped in beside you, there really wasn’t much room left. He apologised not once but twice as his knee knocked into yours while he tried to adjust himself into a comfortable position. Since he was tall, he had to keep his legs apart lest they dig into the back of the driver’s seat.

You buckled up as the car started, Nines now situated in front of you. You nearly shat yourself when the speakers blared heavy metal music. Hank swore and shut it off completely.

“Fuck, I really hope none of those things are around,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I scanned the garage upon entering,” Nines declared, surprising you with his deep voice. “We are the only ones here, save for Detective Reed.”

Despite what he’d said, you couldn’t stop your eyes from searching out the window. Thankfully, you only saw Gavin hopping into the driver’s seat of a black Jeep in the distance. He was shaking his head, most likely in response to the obnoxious show he’d just witnessed from Hank.

“What way are we headed?” You asked as the lieutenant backed out.

“Why’s that?”

You hesitated. “If it’s on the way, I wanted to stop by to grab a few things and let my cats free.”

Connor asked for your address, and you told him. He addressed Hank after a few flickers of his LED. “It’s not too far from yours, Hank.”

The lieutenant looked at you in the rear-view mirror then. “We’ll check it out, then.”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, tensing as the car pulled out into the street. Your eyes immediately landed on some infected wandering around out the front of the station. Those demonic screams you’d heard last night returned as they spotted the car and began sprinting towards it. Hank put his foot down and sped off, giving them no time to catch up.

Turning in your seat, you watched them as they did the same thing to Gavin’s black Jeep as it pulled out of the garage. You winced as he ran one of them over. Whether it was unintentional or not, you were unsure. Though, if you had to guess, it was most likely the latter.

Wonder where he’s heading…

Unsurprisingly, a few other cars were zipping around without a care in the world for the stop signs and lights they were flying through. Momentum had you sliding and bumping into Connor several times as Hank swerved to avoid them, cursing and flipping the bird in the hopes they’d see it. Unfortunately, they most likely wouldn’t.

“Would you like me to drive, Lieutenant?” Nines asked finally after another swerve.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a touch of cheek in his tone.

You caught Hank rolling his eyes in the mirror, “I’ve got it, smartass.”

You held in a giggle. So, Nines was being cheeky, then.

Ten minutes later, the car was parallel parked between some dumpsters in a quiet back street that led to your apartment complex. You fished around in your pocket for your access card and unbuckled your seat belt to get out while Hank went on about ‘being sitting ducks out here’ and that ‘you had ten minutes, tops’.

You were surprised when Connor followed behind you as Nines let you out but thankful to have the company. The two androids shared a silent look, their LEDs flickering before Nines left you to it. A flash of irritation slipped across Connor’s face, but it was gone before you could get a good look.

You frowned. What was that about?

Shaking your head, you took the lead and led Connor up to the fifth floor where your apartment was. The hallways were insanely quiet. No muffled noises of TVs from behind closed doors, no shouting from that noisy neighbour a few doors down, no kids causing a racket at nine in the morning – it was nerve-wracking but expected.

A look of horror crossed your face when you noticed the door to your home was already open, a few food wrappers and clothes articles scattered across the floor leading out. It was hard to miss the splatters of blood along with it, though you couldn’t tell if it was leading in or out.

Connor immediately took the lead, gently beckoning you behind him, even as his face hardened into a dark expression. His posture was rigid as if waiting for an attack, and you just knew he was scanning the apartment when the two of you cautiously entered. He seemed to be weighing up his options as he paused in the middle of your trashed living room, his left hand reaching for something inside his jacket and then stopping as if he’d changed his mind at the last second.

Your eyes worriedly searched for any signs of your cats, but there were none. Even their food and water bowls were missing, which was alarming. Had someone taken them? Were they somewhere in the building?

You experimentally tiptoed away from Connor to try and catch a glimpse inside your kitchen, but he glared at you (a first – and hopefully the last because, damn, that sent shivers down your spine), and you halted at his silent command. There was no way he was about to let you wander off on your own, even if you knew this place like the back of your hand.

He proceeded further into your apartment, entering a small hall that housed the main bedroom, your parent’s guest suite and the bathroom. Blood scraped along the walls this time, and it was clear they led to your room. The door was ajar, and you noticed with a sinking feeling in your stomach a few clumps of grey fur on the carpet.

You froze on the spot, your breaths coming out shakier when your ears finally picked up the sounds of crunching and squelching from inside – the tell-tale signs that the infected were nearby.

Connor pushed onward, crouching slightly as he nudged the door open fully. Crouched over your beloved pets was a lone infected woman, hands bloodied as she shovelled innards in her mouth. You couldn’t hold in the gasp that escaped your mouth at the gory sight, tears welling in your eyes.

Big mistake.

Her attention snapped up to you, and there was a split second before she completely bypassed Connor and hurled herself toward you. That awful, high-pitched shriek sounded so much louder inside your small hallway, leaving your ears ringing. The air left your lungs as you were tackled to the floor, very nearly knocking your head for the second time in two days.

Connor was quick to tear her away from you, hurling her back into the bedroom with a strength humans would struggle to match. His larger frame proceeded to block the doorway, preventing the frenzied monster from reaching you as she continued to howl.

“H-holy shit!” You uttered out of pure shock.

She was completely ignoring the android in front of her, her arms reaching around him in a failed attempt to take a swipe at you.

“She doesn’t see me!” Connor quickly confirmed your thoughts, grunting as he shoved her back again and shut the door behind him, leaving you to deal with the revelation alone.

Of course, she wouldn’t. Unlike you, he wasn’t made of flesh, warm blood and bone. He was made of hard plastic, long wires, and blue blood. He wasn’t the tasty meal here. You were - the human. It was easy to forget that when Connor was so human himself.

A muffled gunshot sounded from inside the room, and you jumped, taking a cautious step toward it. “C-Connor?” You called out, voice unbelievably shaky.

The door swung open again, and Connor surged forward, wrapping his long arms around you. You heard the door click shut but couldn’t find it in you to care as hot tears finally began to roll down your cheeks. A hand gently ran through your hair while the other maintained a firm grip on your back.

After what felt like hours, he pulled back and assessed your form. You shook your head to tell him you were fine, the words unable to audibly leave your mouth. He finally straightened up, eyes and LED flickering momentarily like they had when he’d communicated silently with Nines. Were they talking again?

“Is there anything you want from your room?” He asked, deep brown eyes searching your face. He still didn’t seem convinced you were okay. “It’s better if I get it for you.”

“Just s-some clothes… if you could. T-there’s uh…” you swallowed thickly, trying to compose yourself. “There’s a backpack near the bed. Just stuff whatever you think I'll need in there."

He moved to enter the room again, but you quickly grabbed his hand, shocking the both of you. His gaze landed on you again, inquisitive this time. “And please, if their collars are in there, could you…?” You trailed off, but he seemed to understand.

Tears continued to fall even after he’d retrieved your belongings, even after he led you back outside and helped you into the car, ignoring Nines probing stare and Hank’s questions of ‘what the fuck happened’ and ‘why’d you take so long.’ They only stopped when you fell into a restless nap, head resting atop Connor’s shoulder.

You would worry about their questions later.

#shit's getting heavy #sorry reader hahah #i'm so mean #this shit's not beta'd soz #dbh fic #dbh au #fanfiction #connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #connor dbh x reader #connor dbh #nines x reader #rk900 x reader #female reader #detroit become human #fic: detroit ground zero #cross posted on ao3

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