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freckled-koi · 7 months

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒂𝒓

summary: you've known gojo since your training days at jujutsu tech. you were inseparable - as thick as thieves. so, what happened?

pairing: satoru gojo x reader (feat. nanami x reader).

cw: angst, emotional manipulation / mental spiral, mature themes. 18+ / minors dni.

wc: 3k+.

a/n: second chapter is now up! this is starting to become more of a slowburn of a fanfic, and honestly? i can dig with that as long as you can. <3 please enjoy!

( ◡ ◡ ♪ ) ｡

highly suggest reading chapter 001. first! you can also read it here on ao3!

“When did you pick that up?”

You’re caught by surprise by the low purr of a voice filled with curiousness, snapping your head in the direction of it. You were in the middle of lighting the cigarette dangling from your lips, the fire from the lighter going out when you released the mechanism. You were just alone standing by yourself outside of school, not expecting to run into anyone in particular.

“Don’t tell me hanging around Shoko is rubbing off on you..” The man sighs, amusingly hopeless at his own words. Your eyes scan over his much sharper features all the way up to his jet black tresses tied back into a bun to keep the longer strands away from his face and down his back.

You always found it a shame he never cared for his hair down that much. It framed his face better.

All you do is let out a light laugh, shrugging your shoulders as you pluck the cigarette from between your tiers to speak.

“Shoko and I bum off each other’s smokes whenever we hang out,” You try to become a voice of reason, but you realize it’s not going to do much when you see a flicker of disbelief on the man’s features.

“Don’t tell me you rag on Shoko for smoking, Suguru.”

“Even if I did, she would still do it–”

“Which is why, I’m going to continue doing it~ It helps.”

Suguru Geto doesn’t protest it, knowing he wouldn’t win the war on what was healthily correct for you. All he does is manage a smile, taking a small glance around their surroundings.

It was a bad habit you would dabble in for quite some time, but coming to Jujutsu Tech, you started doing it much more. You even found a small bond with Shoko one night after a stressful trial assignment when you were just a newbie sorcerer. She caught you whipping out a pack you rifled through your bag to find and asked to have one.

You sort of found comfort in doing it more than ever.

Maybe it was a bad way to manage coping with stress, but old habits will die hard.

You sigh after taking a moment to debate, eventually tucking the unlit cigarette back into its packaging and store it away into your bag. Smoking could wait until you were back at home.

Golden hour was upon them when you stand with Geto, glancing back at him as he’s found meeting your gaze. The hues over his skin made him stand like a god, it was almost sickening how pretty someone was without even trying. Although, there were signs of distress under his eyes that you were suspicious about. He looked.. Worn. As if sleep wasn’t something he was getting much of late.

“Are you waiting on Satoru?”

“Not quite.. I just so happened to begin my route home and just caught sight of you.”

There’s a quirk in your brow to his words, an amused expression crossing Geto’s features when he looks at you with a quiet laugh leaving him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You shrug.

“Usually you’d be the one walking home with him.”

All Geto does is shrug off the statement, a smile still gracing his lips.

“He’s got his own thing going on.”

“Like you do?” You ask with jest in your tone. It was only meant to be as a way to poke at Geto, but there’s a flicker of an emotion in his eyes that didn’t match the way his lips were still tugged into that signature smile of his. As if, to mask whatever emotion he was holding back.

“Yeah. I got my own thing going on.”

“Oi!”

The both of you break eye contact to see the taller white haired boy jogging over from afar, shades shimmering and gold reflecting off of them. It’s then that you see Suguru beginning to turn away, fixing the bag on his shoulders.

“That’s my cue to leave–”

“You’re not sticking around?” Your brows twitch together, staring after the other just as he slows in his steps by your words.

Geto is hesitant to reply, only giving you a small raise of his hand.

“Catch you later, Y/N.” He says his departing words with a care you knew was genuine, but it did nothing but cause a small dip in your stomach to it.

All you do is watch as Geto grows further and further away with you, the white haired boy now caught up completely to where you stand.

“Hey, ready to go?”

The question is almost muffled to you, hardly tearing you away from your gaze settled on Geto. You couldn’t help the idle pondering of what was just going on with him. It was highly unlikely that he wouldn’t stick around to chat with Gojo, because he was always around Gojo. So, what changed?

“Y/N?” It’s when Gojo says your name that you break away from your thoughts, turning your head to look up at him and he has that feigned innocent expression on his features you’ve only seen a small handful of times.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said~, are you ready to go?”

“Oh, right– Yeah.”

You’d push it back to your mind to think on later. Gojo had been begging you to come back to his place to hang out, to watch the latest cheesy rom-com that he had been blabbering about for the longest time and wouldn’t stop until you caved to accompany him.

It’s then that you two start to walk together side by side, drawing your lips inward in thought before your gaze returns back up to the other. You tried pushing it to the back of your mind, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

“Is he doing okay?”

“Who?”

“Satoru, you can’t be serious.” You sigh hopelessly.

All he can muster is a sheepish laugh, his arm swinging around the space between your arm and shoulder to draw you close to his side. The affection wasn’t too unfamiliar, having a knack for breaking that personal bubble of yours just to be handsy. You were sure his love language was physical touch.

“Suguru’s fine~ I speak to him in passing when you’re not around, you know,”

“Hm..” You exhale a soft hum with the concern still written on your features.

“He really is fine. I try to check in on him, but we’re always off doing our own assignments these days anyway.”

It wasn’t reassuring in the slightest, the way Gojo spoke, but you decide that it was best to drop the topic at hand before he got riled up. Maybe you’d try and catch Geto at the right time and place for a chat the next time you crossed his path.

Your head tilts a bit to get a better look at Gojo when you walk and he meets your gaze, trying to look past his dark shades with a playful grimace.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you always have to cling onto me like this?” You joke, but you don’t pry yourself away from his side at all. Even with what happened moments ago, Gojo’s body was like an anchor for you to ease your nerves – no matter how many times he stepped on them for fun.

It only brings a sly grin stretching over his lips as he leans down some to rest his head on top of yours, rubbing his face into your hair like a cat.

“Aww, but you like it, don’t you, Y/N~? A handsome guy like myself being all over you~”

“Ugh–” You snicker just before you’re pressing your palm to his side to give the both of you some distance, playfully gagging to the way he speaks. “You’re literally disgusting.”

“Oh, come on~” Gojo whines, reaching to draw you back to his side and place his arm back where it laid.

“You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you to be the American movie watcher type.”

You comment just as you’re taking a sip from the mug of black tea you found in the kitchen after you changed into the loungewear you had packed for your stay, idly twirling the tea bag string with your finger as you watched him set-up the television from the sofa.

Gojo stands proud and tall, the DVD he was flopping around in his hold now on his finger as he grins in your direction, even going as far as showing off, using his Infinite to make it hover.

“I’ve been dabbling here and there into American movies, so I can’t help but have a growing obsession over them~ Don’t have to understand the language to enjoy something great,” He laughs and that just makes your lips quirk up into a smile.

You find his childish excitement rather endearing. The moment he catches your smile, he pauses and allows the disk to fall flat into his palm and he’s turning to place it into the player.

“Plus, subtitles exist.”

The comment makes you snort softly, taking a careful sip from your tea just as you set the top of the mug onto your thigh.

Gojo and you would do this often. You’d kick back at his place on a Friday night watching a numerous amount of films since you both were big time cinephiles. He had a guest room always made up for you, so you didn’t have to worry about the time getting away from you and beating the clock past curfew to get home.

Most of the time it was horror movies, other times it was action and adventure. The films you indulged in with Gojo were a variety, but the romance comedy ones were new for you. Not that you’ve never seen one, you just didn’t find any interest in them until Gojo was practically on his hands and knees to have you sit in on one with him.

After he places the disk into the player, passing through trailers you both didn’t care much for, the movie is now playing on the screen and he moves to join you on the sofa.

Usually, he would be a cushion over, but he’s placed himself close to you this time.

Odd.

You don’t think twice about it.

His arm settles onto the back rest of the sofa right behind you, leg propped up onto his knee away from you. Your legs were crisscrossed into a more comfortable position, allowing your attention to be directed towards the screen.

The plot was easy to understand from the get-go. Two women hardly enjoying their places in life, their resided homes across the world, so they switch homes for a little vacation. The brother of one meets the girl staying in the one woman’s little English cottage, while the other meets a complete stranger that knows how to produce music in the other’s mansion.

The two of you share a laugh at some parts, Gojo making idle comments out loud to you and to mostly himself throughout the middle of the film.

It was a traditional, corny romance movie – something you weren’t incredibly surprised by. The build up of the lingering romance between the two couples were clearly enamoring, so you’re definitely surprised with yourself when you’re so focused on the film.

You feel a subtle brush in your tresses near your shoulder that causes a small shudder that crawls up your neck. Thank God you knew how to use your peripherals so you didn’t have to turn your head to look, catching Gojo still facing towards the screen with his features lit up by the television screen that shapes his side profile. The expression he wears is soft, and it’s an expression you haven’t familiarized yourself with since getting to know Gojo.

You knew more than the average acquaintance, but not in the similar manner as he was with Geto or Shoko.

The brush of fingertips graze along your shoulder through your crewneck, dragging up over the neckline, playing right at the hem where fabric ended and your flesh began.

What is he doing?

Maybe it was just a mindless thing he caught himself doing. It doesn’t help that the goosebumps are beginning to form underneath your sweater, gripping the now lukewarm mug you were clinging onto during the movie.

You can hardly pay attention to the movie now, a little distracted but you remain strong and a little still, wondering what he was going to do next.

However, Gojo doesn’t really go any farther past the neckline, even taking pauses in his movements. It’s when you catch the pause that your head subconsciously turns a centimeter, and his eyes immediately flit to lock with your gaze.

He smiles and it’s one of the warmest smiles he’s worn, making your throat grow tight.

“.. Are you enjoying it?” Gojo says gently.

“Oh— Yeah, it’s pretty good so far..”

“See? I’m never wrong about these things~”

You quietly laugh, grinning now by the comment just as a few strands of hair fall past your face that were tucked loosely behind your ear. His hand resting near your shoulder lifts to bring over to neatly, delicately tuck them back into place. The subtle graze of his fingertips at your skin burns and you’re not sure if it’s because of how intimate the touch is or the contrast of his cool fingers on your gradually reddening skin. But he’s never gone as far as to do that.

Sure, he’d cling to you and rub his face on your shoulder, your head, but it was all just playful.

This wasn’t playful.

The only thing that fills the quiet between you two is the dialogue and musical score emanating from the television. Gojo’s attention wasn’t going back to the movie, and strangely, neither was yours. As if you both were wanting to say something, but nothing was coming to fruition.

Gojo is the first to break the silence.

“What are you so pretty for~?” He purrs.

It sounds so sickly sweet and makes a wave of warmth wash over you.

It’s hard to formulate words when he’s hardly doing a damn thing, and why it was affecting you now was beyond you.

All you manage is a roll of your eyes, head turning to face back towards the television.

“Oh, now you’re complimenting me?” You say in amusement.

“Hey,” Gojo’s hand reaches over to take your chin with his thumb and forefinger to guide your face back. You’re completely doe-eyed when you're brought back to fix your gaze onto his piercing blue set, his own lids low. “I wasn’t done looking.”

“Y- You see me every day, Satoru.”

“Mnn~.. Not like this though.” You didn’t realize it, but when he took hold of your chin, he closed the proximity between both of your bodies, just where his thigh just barely pressed to your own, hardly giving the both of you that space.

The position he put you in was making your heart race.

“Satoru..” You repeat his name again softly, and he sighs to that.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

Gojo’s lips quirk up into a gentle smile, the pad of his thumb brushing along the curve of your chin before it lifts to just barely touch the bottom of your lip.

“I want to try something with you.”

You feel that surge of warmth run through you again because you knew where this was going just based on the hold and the way his thumb runs delicately over your lower tier; How he looks at you – how close he was to you. It makes your stomach twist, your shoulders tense up. Hell, the idle thought of doing those sorts of things with Gojo was just a fleeting, intrusive thought all on its own, and you never really thought you or him would actually act on them. There were moments where those fleeting touches and catching each other’s gaze would make you feel some type of way. Maybe even the times where he was clinging onto you and pulling you in close too, but it was nothing you dwelled on for too long.

Gojo and you were just friends. Friends don’t do those sorts of things.

You’re hanging onto his words now, the movie now long forgotten and only becomes background noise at this point in time. You can’t even seem to give a response to his words and it only makes him quietly snicker to it.

Gojo shifts, closing that proximity between the two of you and only leaving just mere centimeters of your frame to his, guiding you by your chin and your body willingly follows suit.

“If it doesn’t work, I won’t do it again.”

It’s the last thing he says just before he’s leaning in, your eyes fall shut because staring at him with that doe-eyed look you were getting accustomed to was crazy. The hands around the mug are tight, you almost could break the glass if you squeezed it any tighter. It’s then that Gojo completes his goal of making sure there was no room left between the two of you, his lips finding purchase on your own in a slow kiss.

It’s so warm and delicate, mindlessly melting into just how much he’s drawing you in by it. You never thought this was how it would feel to kiss Gojo. Maybe it was entertained in your mind for much longer than you would admit – you felt it would be the type to rush, sticking his tongue down someone’s throat in the heat of the moment, but he was taking his time. The palm of his hand slides with ease to cradle the side of your face now, thumb dragging over the apple of your flushed cheek just as his lips part to take it a step further, almost as if he was deepening the kiss and your own couplets follow.

What am I doing?

There’s a sliver of realization that comes back to you and your eyes flutter back open, retracting from the kiss with a soft sound. Your eyes meet with Gojo’s piercingly blue orbs, almost a little surprised by how short the lip lock was between you two.

“I– I have to use the bathroom–” You quickly declare, and you only can remember the small flicker of confusion crossing Gojo’s expression just as you scramble to set the mug on the coffee table.

You feel you grasp at your hand, stopping you from moving any further from your place near the sofa. You snap your head towards Gojo’s hand holding yours before they reach his eyes again. There’s a clear look of surprise on your features to him grabbing you. Didn’t he say if it didn’t work out, he wouldn’t do it again?

“Wait, Y/N–”

“Just– Just give me a second.” You say firmly and Gojo takes that as a sure sign to back off, allowing you to push off his hand as he slumps back into the sofa and you make your way to the bathroom just around the corner.

Locking the door behind you, you finally sigh out as if you were holding your breath the entire time. Your hands come up to push at your tresses, doing a small pace in the minimal space of the bathroom.

“What the fuck.. What the fuck.” Your hands come up to shield your face as you stop in front of the sink, having to just replay what just happened. Was he doing that just to fuck with you? Maybe entertain something and go beyond just kissing, to get you to do more? Did he mean to do any of that? Hell, you must’ve had his attention with how much time you both had spent around each other and him doing this was more than clear.

It was all way too overwhelming and confusing for you to process, hands now bracing the edge of the sink after reaching to turn the faucet on. Your eyes linger on your reflection in the mirror, staring over the flush on your cheeks and how widely blown your eyes were, brows knitted together in frustration.

Gojo put you in such a vulnerable state, it was almost becoming uncomfortable the more you thought about it. You bring your lips inward, fixing your posture as you bring a hand to your lips to touch. The kiss was.. Lovely, but.. You were wishing you were more mentally prepared before he decided to just ‘try something’ with you.

After a while longer, you come out of the bathroom. It was quiet for the most part, figuring he must have paused the movie after you left.

You return to the room and you see Gojo is still seated, one arm over the back of the sofa while the other is propped up on the arm of it, hand balled up and resting his chin there. He switched positions, being at the very end of the couch.

It’s when he feels your presence, he turns his head back to you, facial features relaxed as he stares over your frame.

The both of you are so quiet, you don’t even know what to say to him before you’re walking back over. This time, you seat yourself at the opposite end of the sofa, and he watches you as you move.

You break the silence first.

“Can we.. finish the movie?”

You request with a hesitance in your tone, bringing your legs back up to crisscross back into their original position and all Gojo does is nod once and he’s hitting play on the remote.

Both of you sit in an awkward silence, hardly even responding to the movie’s plot and reveling in the moment you both shared not even minutes ago.

Both of the girl’s get the guys they weren’t hoping to find in the film.

The hands resting on one another in your lap tightens to that.

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru #gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujustu kaisen fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #anime #anime fic #anime fanfiction

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isabelguerra · 5 months

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Hi. Ya girl here again about that asterisk. I dont think too much about izjo but when I do I get a headache (positive) but I already HAVE one so here u go lol

I havent read harry potter. In a Long Time. Like ever. I remember very little of the plot. But I do think that them getting together would be the bisexual version of the hunger games. I think that over the course of their years at school they slowly get closer to eachother and as they realize that their comfortable with eachother they start to feel sick and nauseous. And because they start feeling this way they sort of relapse into their fighting days (not that they ever stopped beating the shit out of eachother. It just got friendlier. Romantic even. Never flirty though both of them would rather die than flirt on purpose. Anyways) because they dont want to acknowledge whatever is growing between them and then it would escalate into a fight in the mud while its pouring rain and then as their trading verbal and physical blows one of them would scream "BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU AND THAT SCARES ME" and the other would scream back "WELL HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL CARING ABOUT YOU SCARES ME TOO" and then they would stare at eachother in the mud and Isabel would angrily scrub her eyes and then leave and Johnny would just stand in the mud. And then after that its a chilly but guilty air between them but now at LEAST their feelings are in the open. And from then on they start showing the worlds most awkward affection to eachother. The day their hold hands it only lasts five seconds before Johnny has to go throw herself in a river and Isabel has to go punch a training dummy. Etc.

Anyways I have to go take some cough syrup now BYE I think you knwo who this is bc I just rebloged the last ask I sent about the jang but LOL. Sending this on anon anyways . Im very sick right now can u tell

I’ve been cleaning my childhood living room for 8 hours. It’s wizard time.

Before I get into this ask, you guys know that I don’t care about actual harry potter, right. Nobody needs to be super familiar with hp or frankly even like it to understand wizard au— honestly, going into it as ‘paranatural characters at magic boarding school’ is a great blank slate to have. HP is a shoddy piece of craft that’s mostly enjoyable through its nostalgia, cultural hype, and a surface level veneer of fantasy. I’m not a hp fan. Moving on.

That’s a fun interpretation! Though as far as Wizard AU goes, they don’t really hide affection. Or avoid flirting at all. They actually do it a lot— but their displays of affection & flirting are mixed in alongside the context of old rivalry, captain/subordinate, and close friendship; so their confusion largely comes from navigating their expressions of ‘having a crush on someone’ feelings amidst all the others. They do it a lot, but their ways of showing it are nowhere near what typical flirting looks like.

They do actually stop beating the shit out of each other around their second/third year— their captain trains it out of them since having two young members frequently get into scuffles will threaten the team’s chances of success. Those scuffle urges don’t fully go away, because it’s also Isabel and Johnny; but they’re routed into more productive outlets that support their strengths, like dueling and close training to strengthen their teamwork. Quidditch is sometimes (especially, in their cases) a very physically involved sport: when you’re flying around at 100mph, 100ft off the ground, if you see your partner get knocked off their broom and they’re halfway to a very flat ground without looking like they have the situation under control, they need you to catch them. You need to catch them. Because if you get caught up in feeling weird about touching your annoying rival, they will die. So after a few years, it’s a point of fact that they care about each other. Being partners brings them both to the point where they… can’t really afford otherwise? Whether or not it scares them falls to the wayside: as a side effect of their positions, it has ceased to matter.

By the time they’re both living with their feelings they’re actually very physically comfortable around each other! It’s a point I reiterate as the series progresses. The few wizard au fics I put out years ago have them very comfortable with casual touch— it’s where casual touch turns to intentional touch that gets them flustered.

It’s one thing to touch your sports partner in a trust fall. It’s another thing to touch your bestfriendrivalcrush in a way that might let them know you like them— or mean they like you back.

Here, have a scene scrap:

:)c

#wizard au #asks #anon #AKA johnny isnt adverse to touching isabel. johnnys experience with his ‘ride or die casual physical affection’ besties makes him one of #the only people NORMAL about touching isabel. which does cause Some Complications feelings wise- on both their sides #so it takes a while to get to that point. but it IS where they end up #ISABEL is weird about touching JOHNNY.

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

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Yandere Miranda Vanderbilt (3/3)

Word count ; 3.1k

I leaned against the building wall, rather peeved by the booming music from inside the gymnasium that was audible even outside. I was loitering by the entrance, waiting, just waiting, for my date to show. I was trying to be lax, since knowing Damien ,he’d think being late OR skipping would be badass. But, an hour had already passed, and there were no text messages from him whatsoever.

Sitting on the back-burner of my mind, I was keenly aware of how Miranda didn’t have a date. She denied every monster who asked and remained sure on her decision. She seemed so confident in her stature though, and I could only strive to be her. After all, she went the route of being a strong, independent woman who didn’t need a date for the first time ever.

I was starting to doze off, too bothered by the constant opuses who filed into the gym to stay awake. But, just as I decided to do so, I heard the soft padding of footsteps coming toward me. Blinking out of surprise, I realized that Miranda was striding in my direction. In her grasp was a bouquet of water Lillies, which complimented her gown and heels. I returned her soft smile, and for some reason, my heart began to accelerate.

She froze, her gaze completely trained on me. I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her head.

“You’re still waiting for him,” she started.

I heaved out a shrug and a sigh. “I don’t like to assume things, but this is pretty sketchy. Sure is an asshole for trying to pull a prank like this.”

Miranda’s smile widened. “Well… That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

I pushed myself off the wall and stared down at her curiously.

A dark pink glow washed over her expression and she bit her lip. Squeaking quietly, she thrust the bouquet into my chest, squinting her eyes shut. “I - I wanted you to have these! I ordered them in advance because I knew that peasant would do something like this.”

I grabbed the bouquet carefully, playing with the petals. I dropped my arms to my side, returning my attention to the princess. “Thanks, Miri. That’s so thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it. But… I have a feeling there’s something else you want.”

She beamed at me, giggling. “You know me too well, Y/n! That’s exactly right. I wanted to royally declare you as my date to the prom.”

My cheeks lit on fire, a habit I picked up from Damien. When they finally extinguished, I couldn’t help but be inclined to answer yes. My date has bailed, and Miranda… well, she was cute. I just never knew she swung that way. I couldn’t help but overthink. Was this platonic or romantic?

“I - I’m flattered, Miri,” I started gently, adorning an inextinguishable smile. “Are you sure you want lil ol’ me as your date?”

Miranda nodded eagerly. “Of course! There’s nobody else I’d want to go with. Nobody else is worthy enough to take me, Miranda Vanderbilt the third, to prom!”

I chuckled and replied,” I’d love to, babes. Nothing would make me happier than to be your royal date to prom.”

Miranda squealed loudly, pouncing at me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and I fell back against the wall. Laughing, I reciprocated the hug, not caring that the bouquet tumbled to the ground. I rubbed her lower back affectionately. Miranda and I had always been loving with each other, but this time, it felt different. I could tell from how my heart was racing.

We remained in each other’s hold for what seemed like forever, but I didn’t grow tired of it. I loved how her soft hair caressed my neck, and the feeling of her exhilarated gils brushing against my skin was perfect. Had I always felt this way about the adorable mermaid?

She pulled away, a dangerous, mischievous glint present in her kawaii eyes. “Can we go in now? It’s been too long since I’ve watched the contenders for prom queen… And I can’t slaughter them if I can’t decide which death is suitable for them!”

I pursed my lips. “It’s prom, not a ball! Hell, I’ll help you out with that, but let’s just go at it, ya know? No reason why they can’t just… die.”

Miranda giggled and held my hand, intertwining our fingers. “Is that so? Oh - ! We must have our picture taken before we go in! Daddy hired professional photographers.”

We went over to the gazebo, where a camera was set up. The photographer waved us up to the podium. Miranda was a perfectionist, so she critiqued every pose I did. I finally settled on just standing beside her with our arms interlocked, both of us smiling toward the camera.

Flash!

I gasped as I felt warm lips press to my cheek. I was in awe after the photo, pressing my hand to my cheek. Miranda didn’t react, skipping over to the camera to see how what the picture looked like. I was frozen in shock, and probably bet red.

I was shaken out of it as Miranda waved me over. Towering behind her, I saw that the picture looked nice. Miranda had stood on her tippy toes to press a kiss to my cheek, creating a cute, romantic picture.

I liked it.

“Perfect! Just perfect! I want thirty-seven copies plus frames please, one for each guest room,” Miranda demanded.

“Oh, uh, I’ll relay the message,” the photographer replied, knowing better than to argue with royalty on how silly her request was.

I was flattered, though. She loved me so much that this night meant the world to her. I hoped she knew that the notion was reciprocated. I felt… bad for drawing my attention away from her when she clearly does her best in Miranda-fashion.

“Hey, let’s head inside, yeah?” I requested, placing my hand on her shoulder.

Miranda squealed. “Yes! Do you think it would be more romantic to dance before or after corpses litter the dance floor?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “Babes, let’s just see first. No need to overthink, darling.”

Miranda pursed her lips coyly and let me lead her into the gymnasium. I was shocked by the transformation; lights were dangling from the ceiling, there was a rotating disco ball, and the walls were lined with beverage and food tables. Monsters were jiving to the bops, playing from booming stereos. And at the end, was the stage and a throne.

Miranda stomped her foot from beside me. “There’s too many people! I want them gone, gone, gone!” She huffed and her eyes began glazing over the room. A dangerous glint became obvious as she paused. “There. That group of girls… They’re the contenders. How insulting that they thought they could beat me!”

I chuckled. “How ‘bout death by explosions? Everybody loves a good show.”

Miranda scowled. “No, no, no! We still need to be classy… simply beheading them will do. But since you prefer ‘flashy’, I’ll do it myself. Nothing like some organs and blood to really make me glow!”

I didn’t even get a chance to comment as Miranda withdrew a sword from the space-time continuum and shoved her way through the crowd. Monsters began muttering and making way. I trailed behind her loyally, eager to see the show. All the contenders turned and stared at her.

One of them opened their mouths to speak, but just like that -

Slice!

Her head was gone, flying across the room, causing blood to rain. People started screaming and running out of the room, but Miranda didn’t stop there. She went for the next student, beheading her. I had to push the headless corpse off me when it went flying my way.

My suit was completely drenched as Miranda continued her reign of terror. And Miranda had bone fragments stuck in her hair. I couldn’t help but derive a sadistic pleasure from the scene. Puddles were pooling at my feet, and I jumped a bit, causing a splash.

Miranda froze, realizing that the gymnasium was almost empty and we were accompanied only by the corpses of her competitors. She slowly turned to me, and I adored her expression. Completely innocent and pure, as though she hadn’t just slaughtered several classmates. She sauntered over to me.

I stared down at her, a small smile stretching across my face. “Two birds, one stone. We have the whole place to ourselves and you’re the one and only prom queen.”

Miranda beamed. God, this girl was crazy and I loved it. “Y/n… thank you for always being here for me,” she meekly stated.

I pet her hair. “You don’t need to.You’re always gonna be my best friend.” We maintained eye contact for a long time. I couldn’t tell if our faces were inching toward each other, but I broke out of the trance. “You should fetch your crown now.”

Miranda nodded gleefully. “Oh, yes!”

She grabbed my arm and took me with her as we went toward the stage. She abandoned me there and marched toward the back. I heard several crashes and glass shatters, and then silence. And then, she emerged.

A quaint tiara was on her head, and in her hand she held a crown. She he’d a quietly confident smile, her kawaii eyes sparkling. She sauntered right over to the thrown as though it was made just for her. I was surprised at how relaxed her posture was. She slouched. In the seat and threw her legs to the side, kicking them in euphoria. Her gaze was permanently glued to my form.

“Y/n,” she called,” come take your crown! You are my date, after all.”

I approached her and gratefully took the accessory from her manicured hand. Our fingers ghosted over each other. I carefully placed the crown on my head.

It was a bit too large, and it was lopsided, but Miranda didn’t seem to mind. She only giggled and returned to silence. She watched the room, insanity pooling in her orbs. The silence lasted forever, but it wasn’t tense or awkward.

“I love this,” Miranda finally proclaimed. “Just you and me at prom. Sit.”

She stood up and patted at the throne. I obediently did so, allowing her to sit on me. She pulled herself against my chest, her body flush against mine. Her slender arms wrapped around my neck and played with my hair. Her legs occasionally kicked excitedly. She kept examining my face closely, her gaze finally resting on mine.

A blush sprung to her pink cheeks and she cast her fixed look away. My reaction mimicked her’s, but I didn’t look away. I waited for her to compose herself. Miranda was especially cute when she was flusters, although I never had a second thought on why she became flustered… Did she swing this way?

“Y/n,” she breathed.

“Yeah, Miri?”

Her face scrunched up, and in a flurry, she announced,” I want you to marry me!”

I was stock frozen. Marriage? Marriage? Did I mishear her? “Wh - what? Are you serious, Miri? I love you too, but do you mean in a - a romantic —“

“Of course I’m romantically interested! I’m courting you silly!” she huffed, scrunching hr fists together.

“But marriage? Is this your way of confessing your love?” I continued, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Stupid! Of course it is! Don’t you want to marry me?” Her mood deflated, and she appeared to be rather nervous.

Marriage. Right out of high school. To my best friend. Who, apparently, wanted to be more than friends.

Fuck it. Life’s for the living, right?

“Hell yeah. Fuck it. Let’s get married, Miri. I’m down.”

She broke out in a squeal, hugging me close. I laughed, and decided to stand up, taking her with me. I was carrying her bridal style and swayed a bit to commemorate the event. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, and I felt her peppering kisses.

Celebrate now, be realistic later. That’s how we rolled. Just me and Miranda.

She hopped out of my hold and stared up at me. She clapped both of my hands in a caring but strangling hold, not that I minded. She had her adorable smile as always, and her eyes glittered in contrast the dazzling disco ball.

“We must get married right away! Oh, but it must be grand, and we should invite all of the royal families,” she gushed.

I chuckled. “Sure, Miri, whatever you want.”

She pressed a quick kiss to my lips, causing me to flush drastically. Man, it’s crazy how much things could change in the matter of mere hours.

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #yandere girl #yandere monster prom #yandere monster x reader #monster prom #monster princess #miranda vanderbilt #miranda #damien lavey #damien

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songmingisthighs · 3 years

Text

[19.06] mafia!hongjoong × reader

⇀ you were interested in hongjoong, a notorious leader of a very successful mafia organization. sadly he didn't see you that way. if only he knew the true you before making a rash judgement

⇁ tw : mafia life, angst, mentions of black market activities, death, violence, dark stuff. read at your own risk.

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author’s imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

The door to Hongjoong's office opened and in walked his right hand, with a teasing smirk on his face. Hongjoong looked up from the paperwork on his desk and looked up to the man with a raised eyebrow, "what are you smirking at?" he questioned.

Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door, "there's someone here for you," he said whilst holding onto his laughter. Hongjoong shifted his gaze from his friend to the door and then back to him again, "who?" "your girlfriend," Seonghwa teased.

Before Hongjoong could throw anything at him, though, Seonghwa had run off, laughing heartily.

Not long after, you came into his office with a wide smile. As per usual, you were dressed to impress, head to toe with a black and white vintage channel mini skirt and blazer, adorned with a channel necklace and earrings. As you walked in, Wooyoung, one of Hongjoong's trusted men, looked at your passing figure with mouth hanging low and a starstruck look on his face. But you didn't care, you only had eyes for Hongjoong.

It has been roughly five months since you started dropping into Hongjoong's office. Your dad, an equally highly successful head of the mafia from where you're from, wanted you to get married to expand his business and make more allies. He gave you several options but you were immediately intrigued by Hongjoong, one of the mafia heads he made a partnership with by providing him with weapons. The comprehensive file your dad gave you did Hongjoong no justice so you decided to get to know him for real.

Unluckily, Hongjoong is very secretive and protective of himself and his family (re: his brothers; his most trusted men in the mafia). He had been betrayed so many times before and his thirst for revenge both became his strength and downfall. While he managed to build a highly acclaimed mafia organization at such a young age, he closed off everyone who he deemed not worthy of his attention even after only seeing them for less than five minutes.

Sadly, that included you. You weren't the only one who got a comprehensive file on the other, he too had one of you. A straight-A student from Wharton with hobbies consisting of horseback riding and charity? He wondered whether you were preparing to take over your dad's mafia or to steal the Crown of England and be its ruler.

Hongjoong tried his best to hold in a groan of annoyance but even so, some still escaped him and you heard it. Though you were used to it so you just ignored him.

"Hi, Joong," you grinned widely at him, walking in and putting a medium-sized box of cake on his desk after closing his door. "Don't call me Joong," he grumbled.

In all honesty, your bubblegum personality sickened him. He knows for a fact that no one is that happy-go-lucky and excited and has rainbows shooting out of their asses 24/7. So there has to be something you were hiding from him.

You only chuckled at his response, "You're a sourpuss, you know that? You're gonna have wrinkles before you hit thirty if you keep frowning all the time like that," you said as you focused yourself on opening the cake box.

Inside it was the cake you made for him. All the times you visited him, you never made him something from scratch. You were trained to be the head of a mafia organization one day, not in the kitchen. So that cake was the very first thing you made and you were beyond proud of yourself.

"Look," Hongjoong exhaled sharply, starting to get annoyed even before you did anything, "You came at a bad time, I need to get a hundred thousand things done before tonight, in case you didn't realize, my organization is-" "in the brink of war with Stray Kids, I know, I've read the reports," you simply said, hands moving to cut the cake in front of you to hand to him.

"I have connections with the leader's soft spot, the foreigner one, I can make a deal that would help your case if you would jus-"

"NO!!!!" he yelled out, slamming his hands onto his desk, startling you so much that you accidentally dropped your knife and stepped back a little.

Maybe it was the stress of having to deal with things alone, or maybe it's just him finally snapping from overthinking about you, but one thing's for sure is that he had had enough. He needed to put you in your place.

"You may be your daddy's little princess back home, all dressed in white and pink and lace, showered with Channels, Tiffanys and your hoity-toity prestigious Wharton degree. But here, you're nothing, got me? You understood nothing about having to work your ass off to get the recognition and rewards you deserve, you had your daddy behind you this whole time and that's very convenient for you. But don't come here and act like you know shit, okay? Our worlds are different, you came from a cotton candy palace, I came from the ditch, your opinion means less than shit to me," he spat out so quickly, he didn't realize that your expression changed to something that he had never seen before.

Your eyes were blank and glazed, lips slightly quivering and chest heaving.

Hongjoong thought that he had really put you in your place and he was about to celebrate the fact that he might finally drove you away when you opened your mouth.

"Cotton candy palace? Not understanding having to work my ass off?" you choked out.

At first, Hongjoong thought you were gonna cry. But a sadistic, maniacal laugh resonated in the room from where you were doubled over, holding onto your stomach.

It was Hongjoong's turn to be stunned into silence.

"Oh my god, I thought you were smarter than that," you muttered as you calmed down, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes, "you think that this is who I am?" you asked with a raised eyebrow at him.

Hongjoong was confused about whether or not he should speak. It was the first time anyone had ever stunned Hongjoong and Hongjoong didn't know what to do.

"I was born from a girl who was en route to be sold in a human trafficking ring, I came out premature and was about to be sold to a satanic cult as their sacrifice but my 'dad' 'rescued' me. I was stored in a facility with thirty other children, we were trained to be assassins since before we could walk, brainwashed with ideals that ruined our brains. One by one, each year some of us were taken out if we show a lack of improvement or no promise," as you talked, you took off your earrings and necklace and put them on Hongjoong's desk.

While you ran a hand through your messy hair, you stared into him deeply, "I was seven when I first killed someone, my last competition. She was two years older than me and she was sold by her parents for coke money, or as the warden told us. We were reminded every day of how worthless we are so we wouldn't rebel and escape. But even in despair, I wanted something more. That's where daddy came in. He was impressed with me and he took me in as his daughter, telling people one of his whores were pregnant with me to assure my legitimacy. I was schooled in my own private red room. I had to fight for my right as a human being, I made deals with my dad to be able to go out with bodyguard escorts for only an hour every month,"

Hongjoong's eyes followed your hands that gripped onto the edge of your skirt, "did your little binder wrote that I went on my first official mission when I was just twelve? My dad cut the ballet lesson that I trade in for 120 hours of combat training short to gear me up, put me in a room of adult men and sent me off to plant an active bomb in 5 minutes in an air vent of the headquarters of his rival, crazy, right?" you chuckled humorlessly whilst ripping your skirt off to reveal your black shorts inside, a knife and a gun holstered on your thighs were revealed, making Hongjoond's eyes widened.

He never would have imagined someone like you to carry weapons under your very girly outfit. Or to even have such a traumatizing backstory.

"My whole appearance is compensation for my very dark upbringing, I wanted to hide it all. My dad told me I was stupid, that I belonged in the dark, dark world. But when I went to Wharton, I tried to change myself. I thought that I might be able to be the person I wanna be by marrying someone my dad approved so I don't have to take over wholly, I could just be the voice by the side, lending my skills and help the organization indirectly,"

You looked down at your heels clad feet for a second, letting your toes point and moving them from left to right to see what it looks like.

At this point, Hongjoong felt bad for having blown up at you. You had only wanted to spend time with him and even if he didn't want to see you, he could've said it nicely. Hongjoong never felt like this before, it was very weird for him.

He was about to walk over to you when you suddenly took your heels off in a flash and threw them both at Hongjoong so hard that it embedded deep into the wall on either side of his face.

Your usual smile was replaced with a frown, the eyes that usually twinkled showed nothing but darkness. He barely recognized you and he was on edge about it.

"You made your standing with me perfectly clear, Kim Hongjoong, while my dad is one to stop things before they become an issue, I like to see how things unravel," you smirked at him.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, not being able to process anything.

"It means that your partnership with my dad is off, good luck finding a new weapons supplier," you spat out before turning around to leave the room, leaving traces of yourself behind at his office.

Hongjoong wanted to call after you, try to make things better somehow. But his head still couldn't even wrap around the shocking information you had just revealed.

Not long after you left, Yeosang came in but stopped at the door, scanning the room that was littered with remnants of you. "What the fuck happened here? Did a hooker tried to kill you!?" he asked, still confused at the situation.

When Yeosang looked up, he saw Hongjoong in a way he had never seen him before.

Nervous.

"I-I- I think I just forged a war between us and the largest mafia weapons manufacturer on the eastern hemisphere," he uttered out.

235 notes · View notes

saturnsummer · 3 years

Text

oh, how we’ve grown.

prompted by an anon from my ask here!

notes: this was probably the fic that stumped me on so many occasions, since it was really bittersweet. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! it took me longer than expected and i’m not sure if everyone would be able to catch on how i interpreted the group’s futures and personalities! if anyone would like to know more, do dm me! as always, enjoy and thank you for the support and love!

original prompt: I think Joon Hwi and Sol A was already dating during their 3L (since Sol A looked so comfortable acting flirty and cute aroud Joon Hwi on their way to the old man's trial). Now I wonder what happen with them during time skip and by the ending, what stage of relationship they are in. Can you write a fic or headcanon ab that? Thank you! 🥰

words: 4373 words

it was finally the day of graduation.

joon hwi was beyond excited. he was nostalgic, sad and emotional, for sure. but after crying so many tears yesterday and the past week, he found it useless to cry any further. he lets the adrenaline set in for his new chapter lying ahead.

joon hwi was finally going to be a prosecutor.

his letter came in a few weeks after the bar exam. he counts himself lucky, being one of the students that helped to capture assemblyman ko, solve his uncle's murder, prove his professor's and his own innocence. all in his first year. it was no surprise that when he applied, they immediately wanted him. his grades were just the cherry on top to his stack of achievements. he was certainly overqualified for a guy who just passed the bar.

(well, he did pass the second round judicial exam.)

further than that, he was crowned valedictorian and was tasked to give a speech to his fellow batch mates. he had practiced his speech countless times, and he could recite it in his sleep by now. but he can’t quite place the feeling that he feels. his thoughts are all over and he can’t seem to keep his heart rate constant.

a knock on the door of his now empty dorm room distracts him from his thoughts. there, dressed in similar graduation robes, with long wavy brown hair is kang sol a, or to him, his kang sol. she walks in with a small smile on her face, but her smile fades away to a face of concern after studying his face. her eyes dart to the door, and she strides back to shut the door, giving him and her the privacy that he needs.

"what's troubling you?" she asks gently, taking his hand into hers. a quiet, simple gesture done by sol could soothe him so much. joon hwi is silent, not knowing why he’s so nervous. he’s done speeches and talked to crowds bigger than this. heck, he has testified for court. yet, the knot in his stomach refuses to cease.

“i don’t know… it’s nothing new, yet…” he trails off, avoiding his eyes with his girlfriend. his thoughts race through his head, but it leads back to his uncle, his samchoon, the man that brought him up: seo byungju.

“joon. joon, look at me.” sol brings a hand up to his cheek, gently raising it so it meets her eyes rather than the floor. joon hwi promised he wouldn’t be emotional today, yet he found his eyes glassy when he met sol’s eyes. as a tear slips, her fingers wipe it away gently.

“your uncle… he would be so proud of you to see the boy he raised achieve his dream.” sol says, a voice so quiet and soft, it seems to echo to joon hwi. she always knew what to say and always knew what was troubling him deep down, even if he denied it.

samchoon… are you proud of me?

“i’ll always be supporting you, like how your uncle did. when you’re on stage, if you feel intimidated, just look at my eyes, alright?” sol says, rubbing his cheek. he gives a small smile and nods slowly. taking his hand, sol intertwines it between her fingers, an action that he knows she only does when they are alone. an act so simple, yet his heart was so soothed by then.

joon hwi’s free hand reaches to the back of her head, as he lowers his slightly, so their forehead rest against each other. he breathes her perfume in, the one he bought for her a few months into their relationship, the one that she always wanted but could never buy. he takes slow breathes with her, her thumb rubbing his knuckle gently.

sol pulls away, much to joon hwi’s disappointment. he wanted her skin ship even more, just savouring her touch under his skin. sol notices his disappointment and only gives him a smile.

“they’re waiting for us. come, let’s go.” sol says softly, letting go of his hand after giving him a squeeze. he knows she hates being affectionate in public, even in front of their close friends. he gives her a quick peck on the top of her head before following behind her, walking to the lobby where they were.

“yah, hyung!” bokgi waved with enthusiasm, gathering the attention of the group. joonhwi maintains his composure and lets out a deep breath.

“nervous, hyung?” yebeom asks, his fingers fiddling.

“tch, it’s me. i’ll be fine.” joon hwi replies. it’s a half truth, now that sol is by his side.

“that’s why sol-noona had to find you, right?” bokgi teases, earning a nudge from yeseul. bokgi looks in mocked offence, but he recovers. everyone eyes at sol with prying eyes, the look of teasing on their faces. she takes this moment to shut her eyes, bring her hands up to face and shakes her head while sighing. these kids have literally nothing better to do than to just tease her and joon hwi.

“it’s time. you should go.” jiho says as he nods towards the lecture hall. the ceremony doesn’t start till half an hour later, but being valedictorian, he had preparations to do. they send joon hwi their last words of encouragement, but joon hwi was not going to leave unless he embarrassed his girlfriend a little longer.

his hand reaches up to sol’s hair, sweeping the curls behind her and cutely arranging her fringe the way she likes it. sol blushes as the group ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ in front of them. joon hwi knows she hates being so affectionate in front of her friends, but it’s always fun to tease. sol’s bright red and her face forms the smallest pout. joon hwi knows he’s achieved his mission.

“i’ll see you later.” he says with a wink and walks away, hearing the tease from yebeom and sol squeaking back.

when he’s on stage later, giving his speech, the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly. but the only thing that changes is that his eyes are fixed on the warm brown eyes of sol. as he addresses his late uncle at the end, he pauses and takes a deep breath. sol looks at him and gives him an encouraging nod. he ends his speech, eyes never once leaving her gaze, as the student body claps for him and he takes a bow.

one by one, the students are told to line up and take their certificates on stage from dean oh. she gives the seven graduates a knowing smile when they step on stage, knowing how much they’ve been through, after being swept up by their problems in their first and second years. even after all that, they managed to graduate with excellent results.

when they gather to take their photos (taken by seungjae, who decided to attend their graduation. it was the least he could do to show his support.), joon hwi swears he sees his uncle standing at the rock by the entrance of the school. he swears he sees the knowing silhouette of the tall man, grey hair and his metal spectacles. but what warms him the most is the smile of seo byung ju’s face and the slight nod.

yes, my boy. i’m so proud of you.

with that, joon hwi lets himself smile as seungjae snaps the camera.

(he doesn’t notice his blurred vision from his tears, but rather blames it on the sun hurting his eyes.)

-----

the group takes individual shots of themselves, even jiho and sol b are smiling when their photos are taken. sol doesn’t lose a chance to tease her roomie about her cute smile, one she only reserved for limited situations.

joon hwi watches as his friends spread out across the field to meet their family, sharing the good news of graduation and their new starting jobs. the smiles on the parent’s faces warms his heart deeply, somehow, even though he’s standing alone.

jiho was going to be a prosecutor with joon hwi in their new office. jiho could care less about joon hwi, but he can’t help but admit that it comforted him knowing a familiar face to be in his office in about two weeks. after all, they did share a room for three years.

sol b, against her mother’s wishes, has decided to take a gap year. her mother initially planned for her to continue her training, securing her route to being a judge. but sol b has had enough of her mother’s toxicity. as they went through therapy as a family, sol b had expressed as best as she could her need to discover what she wants for herself, not what her mother wants for her. what she will be doing in her gap year is still undecided, but she has chosen to move out for the time being.

yeseul was going to be in a firm that mostly did cases of women rights. while she initially was hesitant, bokgi encouraged her to take this opportunity, using her experience and her trial as a voice to the other victims. from time to time, she promised professor kim that she would come back to help at the legal clinic.

bokgi, on the other hand, had finally achieved his dream of being a human rights lawyer. while he was upset that he couldn’t work near yeseul, his spirits were immediately lifted when he heard that yebeom was going to be working just at the building across from him, another big law firm. (it was settled that as much as they went through, the bok-beom duo was never to be separated.)

sol, on the other hand, accepted her first job at attorney park’s firm, ironically. just when she had her first internship, she remembers screaming that she would never work with crooked lawyers like him. sol chose to work with him, as a return of the many favours she owes professor yang, starting with the one from high school. it was the most she could do for her role model.

joon hwi observes as he notices the proud faces of mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, and spots the few sightings of grandparents. somehow, he can’t help but feel a little lonely. his parents, the two individuals he had a short-lived relationship with had long passed. his uncle, the closest thing he had to a father had too passed. he can’t even guess where his aunts or other distant relatives are. his distant relatives probably don’t remember him, and neither does joon hwi.

a small body crashing into him breaks his flow of thoughts, as he looks down to see who it is. byeol wraps her arms around joon hwi’s waist happily and joon hwi breaks into laughter, realising who it is and lifting her before spinning her. she’s giggling in a mess as joon hwi spots sol’s mother and her walking to them.

“ah, hello, mrs kang.” joon hoi greets with formality. sol’s mother playfully smacks his arm with a smile, clearly embarrassed from such formality.

“ah! how many times have i said to not call me that, joon hwi-ah! at this point, you should just call me halmeoni!” she says, earning a big laugh from joon hwi and sol’s face burning with embarrassment.

“umma! don’t say things like this!” sol squeaks back. joon hwi only smiles and insists to call her ‘mrs kang’. byeol is getting introduced to their friends as bokgi and yebeom play a game of tag with her. sol’s mother stands by sol, her hand on her back and her other rubbing joon hwi’s back.

“joon hwi-ah, i hope you know how proud i am of you. sol has told me your own fair share of troubles. i know... you don’t have much of a mother figure in your life, but as your girlfriend’s mother, i hope you know i treat you like my own.” sol’s mother comments to him, holding both his hands in her warm ones. “more than just tutoring my daughter and helping her, you got through your troubles on your own.” joon hwi can only smile as he suppresses the emotions.

“your parents must be so glad to have such a righteous son.”

joon hwi, for a moment, is reminded of his limited memories with his parents. he doesn't remember much, being so young when they died. but how his mother would teach him the importance of kindness and compassion. his father would teach him to be strong, to stand up for the bullies that picked on the poorer kids in his preschool.

hearing his girlfriend’s mother tell him that, he couldn’t help but just pull her into a warm hug. sol joins in from behind, enveloping them with a warm that joon hwi was unable to explain. burying his face into the older woman’s hair, he lets himself be a child, as she rubs his back and holds him lovingly.

for the first time in his life, he finally experiences the warmth of a mother’s hug.

-----

as the field starts clearing out, the seven graduates and seungjae are left behind. their families have gone home, leaving them on the field, laid down in a circle, heads together. there was just silence, as they breathed in the air of hankuk university once more.

once more, as students.

once more, as graduates.

once more, before they step into their next phase.

“i’ll really miss you guys.” sol says quietly. yeseul, lying next to her, nods, although no one can see.

“we’ll meet up. especially you, seungjae-hyung! don’t be shy to ask for babysitters!” bokgi announces, earning a smile from seungjae. they slowly got up from the grass, dusting off the dirt and making their way back once more to the university lobby.

this was the place where these eight students met, all with different objectives and from all walks of life. yet, as different as they are, they got along and went through hell together, for each other. the short lived three years were filled with so many troubles, yet they pulled through together.

truly, they were more than friends. they were family.

seungjae took his leave first, being the family man he was. yebeom had to rush to a family event, and yeseul was going to catch a meal with bokgi. (yeseul promised bokgi to give him a chance once they graduated, and so she kept her promise.) jiho and solb were silently headed off in the same direction with their only conversation being “i’ll drop you off” by jiho and solb nodding. (joon hwi and sol only eye them, making mental notes to tease their ex-roommates.)

“are you going home?” joon hwi asks as sol grabs her bag. after graduating, sol made the decision to move home for the time being, to pay off her loans and support her family and ease her mother of some financial burden. joon hwi has opted many times to help, even wanting to pay off her loans. he had no loans, and after he sold his uncle’s mansion, he had a huge sum of money along with the inheritance. but sol couldn’t do it, she needed to work for this herself.

“yeah. i promised byeol i’ll help her with her work and catch a movie with her too. it’s been long since i could just spend time with her.” sol says. the lobby was now empty, with a few students walking in and out. sol looks at the lady justice statue, almost reminded of the many times she stared at it to remind herself of why she chose law. why she chose this profession.

together, they walk out, holding hands for the first time openly in their school. they were no longer students, and there was no point hiding from others anymore. she was just kang sol; he was just han joon hwi. no more ‘second round judicial pass’, no more ‘uncle killing nephew’, no more ‘klutz’, no more ‘twin failure’. just them.

joon hwi takes the bus to sol’s home, still in the ground floor apartment by an alley. sol’s mother invites him in, but he quickly declines, saying he needs to run some errands back at his own apartment. well, it wasn’t a lie. he just shifted in and he certainly had to clean and unpack.

when the apartment is packed with law books stacked neatly in his bookcase, the floor dusted and mopped, furniture clean and the fridge stocked with fresh groceries, he picks his phone to find seungjae sending the group their photos. there’s numerous comments on how yebeom is already missing us, and even jiho gives a ‘tch’ as a reply in the chat. he notices an unread text from his professor and opens the chat box.

you’re on my speed dial for cases. don’t ignore me.

joon hwi scoffs. he sets his phone aside as he flops back on his bed, for the first time processing all that has happened.

he can’t wait for the future.

(on his wall, he hangs a childhood photo of him and his uncle. on the frame, it has a tag with his daily reminder to judge fairly, and to make sure no one suffers unjustly.)

-----

the next few years for joonhwi are an adventure. his experience in the prosecution office is busy and stressful, but with jiho working just next door, he finds comfort in having him by his side. he battles many cases, slowly but surely, making a name for himself. instead of being known as the man that solved his uncle’s murder, he was now known as the prosecutor that never loses.

the study group kept in touch, meeting every two weeks for dinner at a barbecue place. somedays, they drank. on others, they just chatted and kept the plates of pork coming. seungjae did his best to join, but with his toddler kid, things were difficult.

seungjae took a year after his hearing to be with his wife, and take care of her during her pregnancy. he then decided to work as a forensic examiner. if he couldn't practice law and help people with it, the least he could was to uphold it and enforce it. his job was new and interesting, but he humbled himself to push through his training. he meets the group when they are dealing with criminal cases and helps them out as best he can.

the study group also took turns meeting his kid, and would always love babysitting. sol, as expected, was the best with chaotic duo bokgi and yebeom. instead of dinners some nights, they met at his house to catch up with him and spoil his kid. (seungjae couldn’t stop it. when the kid was born, he immediately gained 7 new aunts and uncles, ready to spoil and pamper him.)

his relationship with sol grew as well. working such long working days was tough, but they tried their best. sol would sometimes deliver homemade stews to his apartment and joon hwi would deliver jjajamyeon with her extra pickles on some nights. they met on the weekends, where they would just go to the park and take strolls or hole up in joon hwi’s apartment to work on their cases together.

sol was doing exceptionally well as a new attorney, almost successfully appealing to all her clients. her clients love her, not only for winning, but for always being so caring to them. many say she still keeps in contact with some clients, even after the case has been closed. while she thinks it is no big deal, sol’s career was climbing up. her loans were fully paid, and she has begun looking into apartments for her family and her to shift out of. that alley brought too much danger, especially with byeol growing into a teenager and her mother’s joints weakening.

sol b took that gap year to work at an administrative office at a law firm, before deciding to continue her law career to gain experience before moving forward to be a judge. throughout the gap year, she split her time on herself and therapy, as well as on her study group. she found herself wanting to be a judge, not for her mother, but for herself.

jiho and sol b also started dating each other shortly after they graduated, when joon hwi spotted sol b and jiho holding hands when he was leaving his office. they only told the group a few months later. but of course, everyone knew by then. ever since then, they caught sol b and jiho smiling a bit more, even if their smiles were just the slight curl at the corner of the lips.

yebeom was doing well in his law firm, handling mostly small cases, but he was content since he had a fun time handling the many cases and making visits to meet clients instead of being stuck in the office. bokgi was a human rights lawyer, with most of his cases about the discrimination of citizens in any aspect. he fought for the rights of those of different sexual orientations, races and religions and was extremely happy being able to do that.

yeseul was defending women of all walks of life, from their unequal treatment to domestic abuse. she was passionate and has made headlines a few times over the years when she chose to speak out about her story. she was well known in this area, being the first few lawyers to be a victim of domestic abuse and defending them. she also kept in contact with professor kim and made regular visits at the legal clinic.

bokgi and her only started dating a year after the graduated. bokgi respected the reasons and her space and yeseul found herself falling in love with him. after all, he stood by her all this while for the whole three years and have seen her at her worst. more than that, he treated her with respect and loved her equally, even after all that.

one day, as joon hwi and sol spent their day on the sofa at joon hwi’s apartment, joon hwi was nervous to ask this question. sol was busy looking at different apartment listings.

“sol, can i ask you something?” joon hwi asks, grabbing her hand. sol nodded, eyes still focussed on her screen.

“would you... would you want to move in with me?” sol’s hand stops scrolling as the words sink in and she slowly faces her boyfriend.

“i... i don’t know. i mean, byeol and umma will be left alone, right?” sol says, her voice quiet and soft.

“we can live near them. i think the lease of the apartment is ending soon, anyways.” joon squeezes her hand.

“but... i don’t know if i have enough money to get an apartment for them and us. joon, i really want to, i really do. but...” sol’s eyes are uncertain, and joon hwi sees her eyes guilty, almost like she feels bad for saying that.

“we can get the apartment in instalments. you can buy one for your mom and byeol first and we will slowly pay for ours.” he says. placing a finger under her chin, he raises it so her eyes meet hers. “sol, they are going to be alright on their own.”

sol nods her head and reaches up to pull her boyfriend’s face to hers, letting their lips connect. his lips are soft against hers, as she taste the slight coffee taste from his mug. it’s almost frenzy, from what started as a simple kiss lead to a fight for dominance. without knowing, sol is straddling joon hwi, as his hands pull back her long hair.

when they pull away, he feels her hot breath on his face, and her face burning red, embarrassed at how she acted.

“should we get back to looking at apartments?” joon hwi asks, a small smile on his face, ultimately an act of tease to her. she quickly nods and climbs off of him as they look at apartments together. joon hwi gives her a knowing smirk, before sol swats his arm and they resume scrolling.

and it was true, when professor yang had him on speed dial.

he was just about to leave for a coffee and bother jiho for a bit at his office one day, when a call came in from professor yang.

“han joon hwi.”

“professor.”

“you’re needed, now. meet me at hankuk university in thirty minutes.” and the call disengages. it was a habit of his professor’s, to give blunt replies and just cut off without saying goodbye. he slips on his blazer and grabs his briefcase before picking up the call from sol instinctively. so much for listening to orders, even though he wasn’t a student anymore.

“called you too?” he asks once he picks up, scribbling on a post it note, noting his early leave from the office.

“what else? gosh, i really hate it when he hangs up like that.” sol replies, a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

“i’ll pick you.” joon hwi says, as he leaves his office, then knocks on jiho’s door. jiho’s head pops up from his laptop, before nodding in acknowledgement.

“no, don’t bother. i’ve already caught the train.” sol replies and joon hwi hears the familiar beeping of train doors. sol knows she’s got to hang up soon, if she doesn’t want to irritate other commenters on the train.

“love you.” he says back. sol’s face is blushing red, but she’s lucky everyone on the train was busy on their phone.

“i love you too.” she whispers before hanging up and storing her phone away in her handbag.

when they meet at the doors of hankuk university each time they are called in for a case, they can’t help but to think of how far they’ve come. sol, the girl with bad grades and on a scholarship. joon hwi, the top student with a hidden secret. yet in a matter of years, they blossomed together with their friends on their routes.

professor yang is by the lady justice statue, and when he looks up to see his students stroll in with authority and confidence, he gives a knowing smile.

shall we start?

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homerforsure · 3 years

Note

for the Fun Fact Prompts ! why are you in a tree?

Dear Anon! It's more of a first line prompt than a fun fact prompt, but given that I instantly knew the second line of this as soon as I read the first, I'll allow it.

This got very silly and very far away from me, so the bulk of it is under the cut <3

“Why are you in a tree? No, wait, wait don’t tell me. K-I-S-S-I-N-G?”

“Maddie, can you focus please?” Buck whines into the phone. “We’re stuck.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” she laughs. “Tell me again. Where are you guys?”

Buck explains their location in the park, the fallen ladder, and Maddie agrees to come and rescue them as soon as she can.

“Of all the times for Albert not to answer his phone,” Buck grouses as he shifts on the tree branch to get his own back into his pocket. “He wouldn’t show up and sing at us.”

“Sing?” Eddie asks.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Did she say how long-?”

“Just whenever she can. She’s gonna have to pack the baby up so we could be here for hours. You didn’t have anywhere to go right?”

“Me? No. Sitting in an oak tree was my only plan for the day.”

“Sorry,” Buck winces.

It's his fault that they’re stuck. It started with a kite. A big blue one lodged high in the branches of a tree that he spotted when he was biking through the park. A couple of kids were standing below it, looking up with sad expressions and making valiant efforts to boost each other up onto the lower branches. The tree was too big for them though, the branch too far from the ground. Buck had slowed to a stop beside them.

The branch was out of reach for him too, even when leaning his bike against the tree and trying to climb up on the seat. Fortunately the park had a concession stand--closed now, open just for little league games--and the stand had a ladder leaning against the side of the building. It was nothing for Buck to jog over and loosen the rusted brackets holding the ladder in place, then to brace it against the tree and start climbing.

The tree was full of sturdy branches, easy enough to climb. He just… needed to find a route. The kite was further up than it had looked from the ground, tangled in leaves and dangerously far out on the limb.

As Buck stood contemplating, another strong breeze had come through (it was perfect kite flying weather after all), making him wobble on the branch and sending his ladder crashing to the ground.

The kids had shrieked and run off without their kite, completely ignoring Buck’s pleas to just put the ladder back and then vanished over the nearest hill. The stiff wind and unseasonably cool weather had left the park more deserted than usual and Buck had had to swallow his pride and call Eddie who only laughed at him a little.

That wind blows hard again, chilling Buck through his training jersey and making the branches sway. He reaches up to grab the branch overhead, trying to feel a little more stable and Eddie reaches out toward him automatically, even though he’s too far away to reach. The other man is sitting against the trunk of the tree, leaning back, serene and stable, as though he’s on the ground and not 10 feet in the air.

“You were wrong, you know,” Buck says, once he has his balance back.

One of Eddie’s eyebrows quirks up as if to say, Wrong? Me?

“You could never have gotten up there from the other way.”

“Well it’s not like your way worked out that much better.”

When his boyfriend (and wow did that term send shivers up and down Buck’s spine every time he thought it, new and fresh as it still is) had turned up at the park, he’d righted the ladder immediately, expecting Buck to climb back down. Instead, knowing he had a stable route down, Buck had turned his attention back up toward the kite and called back that he’d be down in just a minute.

“Which way are you going?” Eddie had asked. So Buck had pointed out the route to him.

“No. No way. You’re gonna get stuck at that skinny branch and you’ll never make it. You’ve got to go up the other way.”

“What other way?”

Eddie pointed it out and Buck scoffed, “Now that’s ridiculous. You’re not even going to be able to reach it from there.”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie had said.

So now they were both stuck on the branch, kiteless.

“You should come over here,” Eddie says, frowning as the wind shakes the tree again and Buck holds on against the sway. “The branch doesn’t move as much.”

“You worried about me?” Buck asks, smirking over at Eddie who just rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a secret anymore, Buck. You breaking your spine is going to seriously fuck with my weekend plans.”

His weekend plans with Buck. The two of them alone. For the first time since Eddie had pinned Buck against his kitchen counter and kissed him senseless. If Buck had ever had any incentive to stay out of the hospital it was for this promise of whatever Eddie wanted to do next.

“Well I’d hate to do that,” he says, looking over at Eddie through his lashes with faux remorse. “I already ruined your afternoon.”

“Will you just get your ass over here?” Eddie replies, trying not to look ridiculously pleased as he holds out his arm to coax Buck over.

Buck needs very little coaxing. He stands because it’s easier than scooting, walking the tightrope of the tree branch until he’s directly beside Eddie, then dropping down again. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Eddie replies.

It’s dangerous to let himself get distracted when he’s perched so precariously, but Buck can’t help it. With his right hand reached overhead to grab the next branch for balance, he holds out his left for Eddie to take. That Eddie does without hesitation, that he squeezes tight, that he smiles at Buck with that soft, happy smile he doesn’t give to anyone else, still feels like a precious gift. It’s so new, what they have. Buck wants to melt into every moment. Cherish it like it may never come again.

“So,” Eddie says, running his thumb over the back of Buck’s hand. “How do people kiss in trees do you think? It seems pretty dangerous to me.”

Humming as though he’s giving the matter serious thought, Buck says, “A tree house probably makes the most sense.”

“Sure. If you were smart enough to plan ahead. But if you weren’t…”

“If you weren’t,” Buck says, taking his hand back so he can move again, carefully, carefully swinging one leg over so he’s straddling the branch. “I think there’s still a few options. You should, uh, get as close to the trunk as you can. With your back to it, probably.”

Once he’s sure that Buck’s stable, Eddie takes the instruction, using that taller branch to lift himself up just a little, turning, shifting one leg over the branch like Buck has, and settling back against the tree trunk. At the stoutest part of the branch, Eddie almost has a stable seat, though he still crosses his legs tightly below the branch to hold his position. “I can see how this would work,” he says. “If you were careful.”

“Oh careful is the most important thing,” Buck says, inching forward, hand over hand above his head. “It helps to have a strong partner. One who won’t let you fall.”

When he reaches Eddie, he keeps his knees pressed close to the branch so he can try and fit himself between Eddie’s legs, so they can get as close as possible. Buck sees Eddie’s eyes flash with concern when he moves his hands from the branch down onto Eddie’s shoulders and immediately feels one strong arm behind his back.

“One hand on the branch,” Eddie says, his breath close enough to tickle Buck’s ear. “Please.”

“Chicken,” Buck says, lifting his left hand again to clutch the branch.

“Daredevil,” Eddie replies, lifting his own hand and clutching Buck’s fingers over their heads.

“You like it,” Buck teases, unable to stop himself from grinning as he stares into Eddie’s eyes to see exactly how much he does.

“You’re awfully full of yourself.”

“You like that too. You pretend like you’re so mature and by the book, but you like me getting you all riled-”

The rest of his sentence is lost to Eddie’s mouth on his. Buck gives himself over to it immediately, letting Eddie’s firm hand on his back push him forward just a little bit more. He lets his own arm slide behind Eddie’s neck, feeling the bark bite into him on one side and Eddie’s soft hair tickling on the other. Buck loses himself to it, quickly losing his balance as he does and he squeezes tightly to Eddie’s hand anchoring him in place.

“I like all of it,” Eddie whispers, once they pull apart. “I like you.”

Buck has just enough time to enjoy the little shiver that those words send through all his nerves before Eddie’s kissing him again. The chill of the wind, the height from the ground, even the uncomfortable feel of the branch beneath them all fades into the background. Eddie’s kissing him and Buck’s as secure as he’s ever been.

It’s only Maddie’s voice that pulls them out of the moment, sing-songing from the bottom of the tree as she lifts their ladder, “Buck and Ed-die, sittin’ in a tree…”

If you know any fun facts, send them to me and I'll see if I can't make a ficlet out of it!

#911fic #writing prompt #ask #am writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz #deeply silly fluff #k-i-s-s-i-n-g

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

transferred part 20 - atla smau

part 19 | masterlist | epilogue

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.

a/n: me when i have to write more than 5 words in a series thats supposed to be a smau

anywho! basically the last chapter?? which is crazy?? filled with heartfelt emotions and the moment that you've all been waiting for, it's a wild ride. so strap in and enjoy. the epilogue will be posted later today so i can finally wrap this series up!! and dont worry theres a super long sappy authors note on the epilogue. LETS GET INTO IT

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): cursing, mentions of alcohol, hurt/comfort, one suggestive comment, mentions of toxic relationships, reader talking about her self sabotaging behavior and burnout, Bad Coping Methods (dont disappear kids)

“You haven’t seen her?” Zuko sighed as the same words he had heard on repeat for the past hour played through his ears again. “It’s alright, thank you. Have a good night.”

He shook his head at his friends, their defeated expressions mirroring his own as he leaned against the kitchen island. He ran an exhausted hand through his hair, and he couldn’t help but think of the countless times you had done it for him.

“Your sister doesn’t play when it comes to theatrics,” Aang lamented as he plopped on the couch next to Sokka.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I mean, she doesn’t pull stuff like this. Sometimes she went over the top when she was younger, staying out a little too late or doing something stupid, but she never just… she never just tried to disappear like this. I.. I guess she was too worried about Katara and me to do anything like that, but still.” He knocked back the rest of the seltzer and tossed the can on the table — alcohol was tempting, but none of them wanted to be any less than completely aware tonight.

“We all knew she was hurting,” Sokka continued. “Not even she could be fine after everything that happened with Hahn, especially the day after, but I— I guess I thought that she would open up before just dropping off the radar completely!

“No news from the girls,” Aang announced, prompting a collective sigh from the other two boys. “I gotta give it to her, she’s been very thorough with this.”

“Of course she has. It’s classic Y/N — she can disappear without a trace, sure, but she can’t put enough effort into picking up some supplies for my project on her way home.” It was a lame attempt to lighten the mood, and though he got a weak chuckle out of Aang, it was radio silence on Zuko’s part.

“Hey, buddy.” It didn’t snap him out of his reverie, and Sokka seriously contemplated throwing his empty soda can at him. “You okay?”

“She didn’t even say anything to me,” he finally murmured, eyes trained on his phone screen. “She said she would tell me if she was having a hard time, but she didn’t say anything to me. Just suffered in silence until it got so bad she just up and left. She just… left. Without a single word to anyone. To me.”

Aang’s eyes softened and he let out a loose exhale. “Zuko, she didn’t mean to hurt you — I know that much. She’s just been under a lot of stress lately, and… I guess it didn’t manifest in the best way.”

“Stress...” he muttered, trying to piece it together. There was something nagging at the back of his skull, something on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t get it. “And you guys are sure she hasn’t put anything anywhere? No texts that you missed, nothing?”

“Believe me,” Sokka said. “I’ve refreshed her pages a thousand times by now. It’s radio silence on her side. God, I wish I was more invasive and put like, a tracking device on her car or something! For all we know, she could be back to Kyoshi.”

Kyoshi. Stress. This whole thing, your disappearing act.

And suddenly, it clicked.

Zuko stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool in the process and warranting puzzled looks from both of his friends as he grabbed his keys off the table and practically ran to the door.

“Zuko, where are you going?” Aang questioned.

He tugged the door open and shot a glance back at them, tension having noticeably dissolved from his shoulders.

“I know where she is.”

Zuko tapped idly against the steering wheel, once again glancing down at his phone screen but to no avail. His relationship with you had become infinitely more complicated since the kiss through fault of both of them — he supposed that was what happened when two people who didn’t know how to talk about their emotions caught feelings for each other. Zuko was very skilled at sticking his foot in his mouth whenever he tried to talk about anything like this, and

But you had accepted his offer to talk on the way home, so that meant something.

He had originally suggested just talking on the way home like he had proposed earlier, but you had a different idea. ‘Trust me,’ you had told him. ‘It has a good track record with making people feel better.��

Your proposition was a wildflower field on the outskirts of the city, just out of the way that someone would go en route to the university. Far enough from the city to emanate an aura of peace, but close enough to be a feasible trip.

“I found this place when I was missing home,” you smiled as he parked the car. “I love it here, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I just feel homesick for Kyoshi. You passed a field like this on the way into town, and when I stumbled here, it just kinda felt like fate. So now whenever I’m stressed, or overwhelmed, or just need a break, I come out here. And I think this is the perfect place to talk about… well, whatever’s going on with us.”

“Sounds good.” He returned the sentiment then cleared his throat. “As long as we don’t go in there. I can admire it from afar, but just looking at that field is making my skin itch.”

You laughed and nodded amiably. “Deal.”

One hand was splayed against your chest, the other trailing lazy circles with the pads of your fingers against the metal as you gazed up at the sky. You had the best and only seat of the view, the flora drifting softly in the night breeze as the stars twinkled from above.

You didn’t know what you were thinking, being here. The past couple of weeks had just been… crushing you. It was like your heart was stuck in a vice and no matter what you did, it just got tighter and tighter.

You had been treating everyone you knew horribly, but you couldn’t stop. It felt like a game — how terribly could you act towards them until they snapped too? Until your friends, your siblings, Zuko, recognized that they had made a mistake by trying to help you?

And you didn’t know what it was about today, but… something inside of you just broke after that morning with your roommates. So you did what you were best at, and you ran. Skipped class, skipped work, just drove around aimlessly until even that was starting to feel like too much of a trap.

And then you ended up here.

It would’ve been laughable if you weren’t on the verge of breaking down.

You had been here, just laying on the hood of your car parked a few feet away from the field on an off road path, for the better part of an hour. If you were going to drown underneath the weight of your thoughts, it was better to do it alone.

But as you heard the crunching of gravel underneath car tires, your eyes instinctively shot towards the noise — so much for being alone — and you sat up. Your brows furrowed in recognition, you knew that car, and it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest when Zuko stepped out.

“You remembered,” you breathed after a moment of silence. “You’re here.”

“Always.” He said it so obviously, so easily — why wouldn’t he remember? Why wouldn’t he be here?

You scooted over to make space on the hood and patted the space next to you softly, pulling your knees up to your chest in a moment of shame as he walked around to the front and pushed himself up next to you. What were you going to say to him? What could you say?

“I’m sorry,” you said out of the blue, your words pouring out of you like an emotional waterfall. “I’m sorry for just— for just leaving, I know it was stupid and I know they’re all probably worried out of their minds, but I couldn’t do it, Zuko. I-it was like I was trapped, and I know it was irrational, but I had to get out of there—”

“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly, effectively stopping your rant. “If you really had to get out, you could’ve at least said something to one of us. I don’t know what things were like back at Kyoshi, but here— here, you can’t throw yourself back onto the knife every time something goes wrong, because— you just can’t do that anymore.”

“I’m not mad, believe me, I’m relieved that you’re okay. I just..” he sighed and glanced up at the night sky, the light of the moon illuminating his features as he faced you once more. “I know you’ve felt alone before, but you’re not. You have Katara, and Sokka, Suki, Toph— you have me, Y/N! And I’m not going anywhere, trust me, but— but you can’t keep doing this to yourself, because they care about you, and I care about you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and chose to concentrate on the hood of the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as a way to use up your nervous energy. “You’re… you’re right,” you said after a long moment of silence, the beginnings of a mirthless smile on your lips.

“After that night at the party, I just— I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. There was a part of me that just wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out, but I— I told myself I was better than that, and I refused to let myself fall back onto any of it. So I worked. I took extra shifts, I helped out my professors, I did anything and everything I could to try and keep my mind off of Hahn. But I wasn’t helping anything, I was just… I was destroying myself. It was just like you said. I was a candle burning at both ends but still convinced that I was doing the right thing, and eventually.. I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I ran.”

“And— there’s always been this… this voice in my head that pops up after things in my life are going good, and it tells me that something is going to go wrong. A-and it tells me that if I’m the one that ruins it, then I don’t have to ask myself what I did wrong, if I could’ve stopped it from happening— if it’s inevitable, then I should be the one to ruin it. It’s how most of my relationships ended, and— well, the only thing it’s succeeded in is making me miserable.”

You don’t even notice your hands are shaking until you feel Zuko placing his own over yours — a simple gesture asking an unsaid question, one you answer by intertwining his fingers with your own.

“That same voice popped up again once I started getting close to you,” you admitted quietly. “And this whole time, I’ve been so terrified of falling that I never considered you would catch me. But I’m tired, Zuko. I’m tired of constantly looking over the edge.”

As you turned your head to meet his eyes again, your breath caught in your throat at his close proximity. You were sure that no matter how much time you spent with him, your heart would never stop beating out of your chest for Zuko.

“I will always be there to catch you,” he affirmed softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like before, he brought his hand to the side of your face and tenderly brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hand, slightly calloused but emanating comfort all the same, lingered on your cheek for a moment before he posed the question.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and his lips captured your own immediately. You reciprocated with an almost desperate fervor and— and it just felt so right. You had grown so accustomed to the constant warmth he carried with him that it had become a part of you, he had become a part of you, and now a life without Zuko was just unimaginable.

He was right — he already was there to catch you, each and every time. Giving you endless rides when your car broke down, sitting through the world’s most boring anthro projects, letting you bare your soul to him, telling you it was all going to be okay when nothing felt okay, and managing to find you when you had gone out of your way to not be found. And all of it— it all made you realize.

You didn’t want to keep running. And you didn’t have to. Not anymore.

Zuko pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, breathing slightly labored as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. That is, until you broke it.

“So,” you started, a nervous chuckle following. “Are we… are we a thing now?”

You could tell that caught him by surprise by the laugh that escaped him, a sound of unfiltered joy. “I’d say that we are.”

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks once more as he slid off of the hood of the car and held out his hand, an offering you took happily. “We should get home,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “It’s past midnight, and—” Zuko glanced at his phone and grimaced. “They’re all still worried out of their minds.”

“Right,” you muttered. “I’m gonna get the lecture of my life from Sokka and Katara.”

“Probably,” he chuckled. “But they’re just doing their job as concerned siblings.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and glanced back at his own car. “I’ll see you back at the apartment?”

You nodded, an uncontrollable smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you, Zuko. For this, and— for everything.”

He returned the sentiment, golden eyes filled with adoration.

“Always.”

if your name is crossed out it means i can’t tag you!

perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

transferred: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread @thelovelylolly @lin-biefong-is-my-life @tiffanyy-21 @sistheselenophile @theincredibledeadlyviper @bakugouswh0r3 @loganrwebb @mikaslilworld @matsunshine @iris-suoh @aizameow @h3llbun @kozuelle

atla: @marianne1806

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thedeathdeelers · 3 years

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just a little bit of magic (you know the rest by heart) ✨

my take on a Juke HP AU for the lovely Taryn @pink-flame on her birthday 🥰🎂 may you have an amazing day/week/month/year, you wonderful human being.

hope you like it!

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Luke eagerly pulls Julie along as they walk down several corridors, up moving staircases and through low hanging archways. The deeper they walked into the castle, the quieter it got.

He had been jittery all morning, too impatient to pay attention in any of his classes as he counted down the hours and minutes until he was free to find Julie and drag her to his surprise. He’d lost his house countless of house points, his leg bouncing and his mind wandering whenever any of his professors called on him in class.

Alex had tried to help a few times whispering the right answers to him, but unfortunately nothing could help Luke when he got in one of these moods. He was just too excited.

Julie trips on her feet behind him, a reminder that her legs were shorter than his. He shakes his head, bringing himself back to the present as he focuses on the girl next to him. Luke slows down his pace, squeezing Julie’s hand once in apology as he gives her a few seconds to regain her balance.

The last thing he wanted to do was mess this up by having her trip and fall right before his big reveal.

Alex had already nearly blown the entire thing when they had passed him on the fifth floor coming out of the prefects’ bathrooms, forcing Luke to very loudly and purposefully talk over him to stop Julie from hearing anything. When he had realised his mistake, Alex had quickly gone quiet, his features morphing into a sheepish expression as he waved at them, walking away and back towards the Hufflepuff common room.

“Luuuuuke, where are you taking me?" His lips twitch at her whine, finding it to be very endearing. "It’s nearly past curfew and as Prefect I really can’t afford to be caught sneaking around by Harrison again.” He sees her look down at her outfit from the corner of his eye, a look of frustrated confusion taking over her face. "Also why did you tell me to change into my normal clothes under my robe?"

Luke snorts at her words, hopping onto the stairs leading them towards the seventh floor, Julie quickly following suit as the staircase starts moving.

“First of all, Harrison absolutely loves you — she'd probably thank you for being you and then very politely ask you to head back to your tower, and then turn right around and give me 3 months’ worth of detention in the same breath.” He turns his head towards her, throwing her his signature grin. “You’ll be fine. And second of all, you ask too many questions. We’re nearly there -- be patient Young Padawan."

"Young-" She shakes her head, cutting herself off, the muggle reference clicking. Luke grimaces at his choice of words, thinking might be spending a little too much time around Reggie lately. "And where is there, exactly?"

Luke tries very hard not to take the stairs two steps at a time.

"Nuh-uh, I already told you - it's a surprise."

He smiles at the disgruntled noise she makes, knowing just how impatient Julie can be. He sneaks a look at her face from over his shoulder, nearly tripping over the stone steps when he sees a little pout on her lips.

At his fumble, a smirk replaces the pout, her voice coming out cockier than usual. "You good there, Patterson?"

Luke whips his head back around, his eyes flying to his feet and staying fixed on the steps in front of him.

"Yeah," he clears his throat before continuing, "yeah, I'm fine. We're uh- we're nearly there."

"It's what you keep telling me," is her teasing, sing-song reply, her mood apparently shifting at his fumble.

Luke keeps his eyes forward, hoping Julie can't see his reddened cheeks as they reach the seventh floor landing. He stops for a second to let her catch her breath before pulling her along with him again, taking the first left corridor they come across to head towards the Troll tapestry.

He'd been taking this route so many times in the last few weeks, he could probably do this with his eyes closed. He had wanted everything to be perfect, practicing again and again until he was sure he had nailed the process.

Only the best for his Julie Molina.

Their steps echo as they make their way down the seldom used corridor, the flickering lights from the torches casting long shadows on the stone floor ahead of them.

"Merlin, this castle is so creepy sometimes," mutters Julie to his left, shivering slightly as her hand tightens its hold on his.

Luke squeezes back, his eyes zeroing in on the tapestry up ahead. His heart starts to beat faster, the excitement reaching an all-time high, only slightly tainted by the nerves that fought to make their presence known.

Taking a deep breath, Luke slowly lets it out as they reach their destination, stopping and turning to face the large tapestry.

Julie stands next to him, confused as she takes in the scene before her - a group of Trolls in tutus attempting to learn the ballet. He watches her as she follows their movements, zeroing in on Barnabas the Barmy as he attempts to direct the Trolls to his left, while the ones on the right pull out their clubs ready to hit him over the head.

Luke loses focus for a second, too taken by Julie - by her furrowed brows, her scrunched up nose as she leans forward to inspect the design on the tutus, and especially by the way her lips twist before her bottom lip slips between her teeth.

He's only shaken out of his daze, his eyes flying up and away from her lips, when she suddenly turns to him with a quizzical look on her face.

"Is this the Barnabas the Barmy Tapestry? Why are we- wait..." She turns her head back towards the Tapestry, taking in the scene with new eyes. "I remember reading about this in Hogwarts: A History years ago...It was the chapter about the many hidden magical rooms in Hogwarts and..." She trails off as she looks at him, her eyes widening. She lets go of his hand, slowly turning in place to face the wall behind them - the one right across from the Tapestry.

"Wait....Isn't this-"

Luke rushes to cut her off, quickly turning around and stepping up in front of her to block her view of the wall, in a hurry to derail her train of thought.

"Okay! So, if you could stand right," he places his hands on either side of her waist, pulling her forward as he walks backwards, positioning her right in the middle of the corridor. "Here."

His hands don't move once she's in place, his fingers brushing against smooth warmth right where a sliver of skin peaks out between her t-shirt and the top of her jeans. He had somehow slid his hands under her open robes without even realising it.

His eyes fly up to meet hers, already wide and staring. They stand there in the quiet space, both locked in each others' gazes, neither one of them daring to move. Within seconds Luke can already feel the now familiar thrum of electricity that always crackled whenever they were both together. Only this time it felt even more surreal.

If he could, Luke thinks he could stay this way for the rest of the night, of the school year, but he brought her here for a reason, so he loudly clears his throat, effectively breaking some of the tension that had built between them. He lets his hands slip away from her waist as he takes a step back, his fingers still tingling from the contact.

"So just...yeah just stay there for a few seconds, while I..." He trails off as he looks away, turning around to face the bare wall in front of them and trying very hard to refocus on the task at hand.

He closes his eyes, clearing his mind until all he has left is the image of the room he wants to recreate.

Taking a deep breath, he pivots on his right foot and faces the direction they had just come from. He takes a few steps forward then abruptly turns back around and walks back down the corridor, making sure to keep his focus. He stops again once he reaches the edge of the Tapestry, turning back around and repeating the process until he starts hearing the sound of crumbling walls that always preceded the emergence of a large wooden door, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

Luke opens his eyes to take in the transformation in front of him, only turning to look at Julie when he hears her surprised gasp.

"Luke-" she's cut off by the increasing creaking sound of the door hinges slotting into place, the loud grating out of place on the deserted floor - until suddenly - everything stops. A deafening silence follows, only broken by the crackling of the torches nearby.

Coughing quietly to get her attention, Luke speaks up.

"So...Reggie told us about this room he read about a few weeks ago when we were trying to find a new rehearsal space to use, since, you know, Covington kicked us out of the fifth floor classrooms 'cause he obviously has no taste whatsoever when it comes to real music and loves making everyone miserable, especially Hufflepuffs and-" Luke cuts himself off when he realises he's rambling, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat to continue.

"Yeah well, I asked around to check if this place actually existed and then Willie, you know how Willie likes to listen to us play - although honestly I think he just likes to hang out so he can watch Alex - but anyway, what I'm trying to say is that one of the ghosts from down by the dungeons owed Willie a favour so....ta-da," he finishes lamely, his arms coming up to point towards the door in front of them while wiggling his fingers.

It's quiet for a few seconds, Julie presumably taking it all in.

"You- you found the Room of Requirement?" She asks quietly, sounding almost awed.

"I mean- I had a lot of help from the guys and then Willie and the Bloody-"

"You found it," she cuts him off, her fingers reaching forward as she moves close enough to touch the door.

Luke scratches the back of his head, suddenly feeling shy in her presence.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I did."

He keeps his eyes on her, tracking her movements as she traces the patterns on the door, following the curving decorative loops down the length of the doorframe until her fingers wrap around the protruding metal handle.

"Luke, this is incredible."

The tone of her voice makes his cheeks grow warmer.

"Nah it's nothing," he tries to brush it off, shuffling on his feet, glad that she is too preoccupied with the door to see his continuously reddening cheeks.

She turns to him then, her hand still latching onto the handle.

"It's not nothing! There's a literal betting pool over at Ravenclaw tower to see who can find this place first, and so far no one's done it..." She shakes her head at him, a smile making its way onto her lips. "But you did."

Luke scuffs his shoe against the stone flooring, not sure what to do with himself. He's always been awkward with compliments, especially when they came from Julie.

Apparently Julie eventually takes pity on him, speaking up again.

"So Patterson, what am I going to find behind this door? A record store? That dodgy hot dog place you told me about? I saw you pacing back and forth three times in front of it, so I'm assuming you already have something or somewhere in mind."

She quirks a brow at him, her eyes shining bright with curiosity.

"Yes! That's actually why I brought you here," he chooses to ignore her little digs as he bounces closer to the door, coming to stand right next to her. "So I remember you saying at the start of the year how you've been struggling with music and...y'know...because no matter where you went you just never felt comfortable enough? And then I remembered the studio you always talked about, the one where your mom taught you everything you knew..."

He watches as her expression slowly morphs, her eyes getting wider and her lips parting ever so slightly.

"I asked Flynn to show me if you had any photos of the space and well..." Luke wraps his fingers around the metal chain hanging off his jeans underneath his robe, squeezing tight to keep himself from fidgeting.

Julie continues to stare at him, her expression frozen on her face. It only made him more restless.

Shit, did he take it too far? Was this not what friends did for each other? Sure he had been in love with Julie for years now, but he's been trying really hard to keep it strictly friendly between them, not wanting to ruin anything, especially after having lost her mom.

And Luke likes to think this is definitely something he would have done for either Reggie or Alex.

But maybe her studio back home was something too personal to her? Maybe she wasn't ready?

"Oh Merlin Julie if this is out of line we can just forget this whole thing happened and-"

Suddenly Luke is cut off by a small bundle of limbs and soft curves throwing themselves at him. His arms reach up reflexively, wrapping them around her, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back.

"Thank you," she says, or so he thinks, being the only words he can barely make out, muffled as they are against his t-shirt.

"Of course Julie." He moves his hands up and down her back, a gesture he knows is comforting to her.

The arms wrapped around his neck tighten for a second before she releases him, taking a small step back and wiping at her face with the sleeve of her robe.

He takes in her face, her expression so vulnerable, unsure about what to do next. But then a small smile appears as she nods at his unanswered question. He reciprocates, nodding back with a smile of his own.

He gestures towards the door. "So, want to do the honours?"

He watches as she nods again, taking in a deep breath before turning to face the door once more. With slightly shaking hands, Julie reaches over and wraps her fingers around the handle, twisting it before pushing. The heavy wooden door creaks at the movement, slowly swinging open until they were both standing on the threshold of a brightly lit garage-turned studio space.

Luke only takes a second to check that everything inside is as it should be, before turning back around to look at Julie.

Her eyes widen at the scene that welcomes her, the steps she takes as she crosses over into the space small and tentative. Luke slips in right behind her, taking her hand off the handle before easing the door shut behind them. He keeps her hand in his as she looks around the space, her fingers brushing over everything within her reach - from the throw covering the armchair that greets them on the right, to the trinkets covering the corner shelves on their left. As they gradually move into the studio, the sound of their footsteps alternating from loud to muffled as they cross over the various rugs decorating the space, Julie’s eyes move upwards, her attention momentarily shifting to the ceiling. Luke follows her gaze to see the three hanging chairs he’d debated leaving out, glad to have included now that he sees a wistful smile take place on Julie’s face.

With the late afternoon Californian sunlight streaming in through the windows, the studio almost looks magical, a warm golden glow enveloping the space. Julie’s gaze comes back down as she pulls Luke along with her further into the studio, walking around the baby grand piano, her finger lightly trailing its side, to stand in front of the wall of plants nestled against the glass back wall.

"My mom..." Julie starts, breaking the silence before trailing off as she reaches over to touch the leaves hanging closest to her. "She always said that plants were sacred. She used to tell me and Carlos all these stories about these spirits that lived in each and every single plant on Earth, protecting those who cared for them. Nurturing all those who treated them with love and kindness and respect." Luke takes in the sight of the green foliage, noting how beautiful it looked. "Said tjat our loved ones’ spirits somehow lived in the very roots of these plants.

“Our house has these pots and vases full of flowers and all sorts of plants all over the place - even our garden looks like a jungle!" She lets out a watery laugh, sniffling as she gets on her tiptoes as if on instinct to pull down a green watering pot resting on a shelf above them.

Luke, seeing what Julie wants to do, hurries to pull out his wand from his back-pocket, muttering a quick Aguamenti as he taps the watering pot. Julie shoots him a grateful smile before she starts watering the plants one by one, Luke tucking his wand away into his robe pocket.

“We used to take turns, each of us spending a few minutes or hours watering and pruning every single plant in the house and in here - but my mom was always there anyway, singing to us, to the plants. Keeping us company.” Julie leans forward as she tries to reach the back row. "But when she...when she wasn't around anymore, I- I stopped. I couldn't bring myself to think about her plants or her music or her stories — let alone come in here where everything about this place reminded me of her." Luke gently rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, not wanting to cut her off, but still finding a small way to try and comfort her.

"I guess my dad took care of everything last summer..." Julie trails off as she finishes watering the remaining hanging plants, before placing the watering pot back in its place.

She turns to him, a peaceful smile lighting up her face. "I forgot how soothing it felt to do that. Thank you."

Luke's smile widens at her words, nodding at her in response.

She keeps her eyes locked on his for a few more seconds before averting her gaze, turning back around to face the piano they had walked past earlier.

Julie lets go of his hand as she slowly makes her way towards the instrument, only stopping when she reaches the bench. Luke takes note of her hesitancy to touch the piano, only to then take a deep breath and slip onto the bench, fingers poised over the fall-board.

He slowly walks up behind her, squeezing her shoulder once before moving away.

"Julie, if you need some space or want me to go I can just-"

Her eyes, which had slid shut, pop open at his words as she cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

"No! No, this is- Stay. I want you here, really." She looks at him with so much open trust and something else he can't quite place, that Luke doesn’t really know what to say. So instead he just nods at her, pointing at the black couch behind him.

"I'm uh- I'll just go sit there? Give you a few minutes to yourself, yeah?"

At her nod, he takes a step backwards before spinning around on the spot, his shoe squeaking against the wood flooring, jumping over the coffee table and landing on the old weathered couch cushions.

He hears a little giggle behind him, his head whipping up in time to find Julie attempting, and failing, to smother the sound. His pokes his tongue out at her in response even as warmth blooms in his chest at the sound of her laughter.

She shakes her head at him before averting her eyes and focusing the piano before her, slowing reaching out to lift the fall-board.

He can see the anticipation and fear and love and grief and happiness swirling in her eyes, noticed the way her fingers shake as they hover over the keys. His own fingers dig into his knees, forcing himself to stay still, to stay quiet, as he witnesses a moment that truly is monumental for Julie.

He watches her as she takes another deep breath, squaring her shoulders as if ready for battle. She nods to herself once right before her fingers land on the keys, music instantly filling every corner of the studio, every corner of his soul.

Luke has always been sensitive to music - he thinks that's why he's always been good at picking up new instruments so quickly, at finding the right words and melodies and blending them together to create something new and exciting. But the feeling that courses through him as he listens to Julie singing takes him completely by surprise. It's like a physical punching him in the gut, squeezing his heart and taking his breath away all at once. He sits there, stunned, as he listens to Julie inadvertently command his full attention, singing her heart out.

He thinks it must be an original, because he doesn’t recognise it at all.

Her face goes through a rollercoaster of emotions, pain leaking through as she makes her way through the first pre-chorus.

And you use your pain,

‘Cause it makes you you,

Thought I wish I could hold you through it

I know it’s not the same

You got living to do

And I just want you to do it

But then just as she reaches the end, gearing up for what feels like the chorus, Luke sees determination take its place.

So get up, get out, relight that spark,

You know the rest by heart

Julie dives into the chorus, full of energy and hope, another one of her many smiles suddenly changing the tone of the song.

She makes her way through the second verse, pre-chorus and chorus in the same vain, the energy around her building and building, Luke’s heart beat matching it.

The song reaches its crescendo, her voice climbing as it builds on every note it hits, Julie getting to her feet, spreading her arms wide as she gets to the high note. A look of peaceful acceptance crosses her face before she eases the songs to it’s final chorus, settling back down onto the bench, singing and playing softly as the song comes to an end, the last two words ringing in the quiet studio.

Wake up

All Luke can do is stare with his mouth hanging open as Julie lowers her hands onto her lap, her eyes closed, chest heaving. He had always known that Julie was a powerhouse, always known that music coursed through her veins right along her magic, but he had never heard her sing the way she just had. Not with the full force of her voice as so many raw emotions filtered through.

It left him reeling. He needed to catch his breath.

If he wasn't already in love with her, he knows he'd be head over heels for her after what he had just witnessed.

He's pulled out of his daze when Julie moves, her eyes open as she stands up and steps away from the bench, slowly moving towards him.

Luke scrambles to shuffle down the sofa making space for her to sit, only to be surprised when she chooses to sit on his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck as she burrows her face in his neck.

It takes him a few seconds to react, his body frozen and unable to process.

"I know I keep saying this but....thank you," she whispers, voice unstable, her lips sending shivers down his spine as they brush against the skin of his neck.

The movement snaps him out of his stupor, his arms coming up to fully wrap around her, pulling her closer to his chest as he leans back against the couch cushions.

"I told you," he says, resting his chin over her head of curls, "anything for you, Julie."

Her fingers curls into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling herself closer to him at his words.

They stay that way for a while, Julie’s breathing eventually easing into a calm rhythm.

Luke stays quiet, understanding her need to absorb everything she had just gone through, happy to just hold her in his arms. When she does break the silence, her voice comes out a little more composed.

"I- that was a song my mom wrote for me before she- when she found out..." Her whisper trails off into silence, the pain in her voice squeezing at his heart.

Luke tightens his arms around her.

"You don't have to explain it to me, Jules, it's okay."

"No I- I want to."

Luke relents, nodding at her words as he patiently waits for her to continue.

"I found the song right before leaving home back in September, and when I saw it...it just hurt too much. I couldn't even get past the title." She releases her grip on his shirt only to start tracing random patterns on his arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“I packed it up and brought it with me thinking I’d be able to read it once settled in my dorm, a space my mom’s never been in but — it took me months to even take it out again, and then a few more months after that just to read through the whole thing. That first time I was a mess," she laughs, a small quiet sound. "Flynn was so close to dragging me to Madam Pomfrey but I managed to convince her I was okay-ish. And then after that it slowly started becoming a little easier every time I read through it until one day I just knew the full song by heart." She stops talking for a few minutes, lost in her own thoughts as she continues her ministrations on his arm. "But even then I still couldn't get myself to sing it, I was always so scared that once I did, it meant that my mom really was gone, that the last piece I had connecting me to her was over and I couldn't bear it..."

Luke's heart drops at her words, an apology ready on the tip of his tongue.

"But the minute I walked into our studio again, this studio, after watering those plants and being able to share all of her stories about spirits and magic and life always being around even after death with you, it just...clicked." She lifts her head up from her hiding place, finally locking eyes with him. "I carry her with me, in everything I do. And I know that I would have eventually figured this out myself, probably once I went back home over the summer, maybe, but..." Julie places her hand against his cheek, her fingers warm against his skin. "It wouldn't have been the same, and I- well, thank you. Again." She tilts her head, looking at him from under her lashes with a smile so radiant on her face, all he can do is nod, turning his head to press a kiss against the palm of her hand.

He feels her fingers twitch against his face, a hitch in her breathing as he looks back up at her.

He finds her looking at him, eyes wide and open, looking both tired and fully awake with dried tear tracks down her cheeks, her bun falling apart with loose curls bending at weird angles from a long day of classes, but all he can think is how beautiful she is. How much he loves her and everything she is, and he tries to hard to stop himself but-

"I love you.”

The words spill out, unable and unwilling to stay locked up anymore. His own eyes widen at his confession, regret flooding in the second he says it.

"I- I- I," he tries to backtrack, to fill the silence, anything, but now that the words are out in the open, his brain and mouth seem to have detached, neither one wanting to cooperate with the other.

Julie stares at him, her eyes somehow growing larger, her mouth forming into the shape of an "o".

“Oh.”

Luke braces himself for her rejection, prepares himself to feel the cold air rush in the minute she moves off of his lap.

But instead, Julie brings up her other hand to fully cup his face, her mouth stretching out into a full blown grin.

"You love me?" she asks, breathless.

Luke, too stunned to do anything else, simply nods at her question.

“You love me," she repeats, this time more of a statement than a question.

She surprises again him by laughing, a lovely melodious sound that pulls the laughter out of him, joining her in her mirth as he chuckles quietly along in his confusion.

"I'm sorry I'm not- I'm not laughing at you," she tries to get out between laughs, her smile still present on her face. "I'm just in disbelief, I-" She shakes her head, laughter quietening down as her thumbs swipe along his cheekbones.

"I love you too."

Those four words take him by surprise, affecting him in a way even her singing hadn’t, his mind spinning, heart racing, entire being vibrating.

Julie Molina loved him.

She loved him too.

He takes his time to commit this moment, her face, the feel of her weight on his lap and the warmth of her hands against his cheeks, to memory. His eyes roam her face, taking in every detail, before they finally land on her smiling lips.

He briefly thinks back to all the moments he had wished he could kiss her, taste her smile and her joy and happiness - and share in that glow that always seemed to be uniquely hers.

He now smiles at that thought, thinking that maybe he might actually be able to experience the one thing he had always craved but thought was off-limits.

Lifting his eyes back up to meet her, Luke leans slightly forward, in askance, in invitation. When she reciprocates his movements, Luke brings both his hands up from behind her back, cupping her face as he pulls her closer to him, ending years’ worth of pining.

That night was the first time of many that Luke Patterson was given the privilege of tasting Julie Molina's smile.

fin

#jatp #juke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fics #luke patterson #julie molina #julie x luke #luke x julie #HP AU #my fics #thedeathdeelers fics #guys this thing is 5k #this is the longest thing i have EVER written #im-#ya #the power of juke

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blazedbakugou · 3 years

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selfish

In which Bakugou finally gives in to his heart’s desires despite his brain’s protests and allows himself to be selfish just this once.

a/n: this is the part two of my Bakugou fic I posted a while back. Though reading the first one will provide more context, this fic can also be read alone.

read part one here!

read part three here!

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

warnings: angst but there’s a happy ending, aged up characters

word count: 2.4k

pairing(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (romantic)

selfish - PnB Rock

Bakugou looked out the car window as he watched trees, buildings, and streetlights disappear from view. The car ride back home from Kirishima’s was a quiet one, perfect for contemplation and revelations. He was so deep in thought that he had failed to notice that this wasn’t the route to his apartment but instead it was on the way to yours.

“Oi, Shitty Hair, where are you taking me? My place is that way,” he pointed his thumb in the opposite direction.

Kirishima glanced over at him before focusing on the road ahead, “well, I just thought that you two needed to sort things out… so I’m taking you to their place.”

“Yeah? Well, what makes you think I wanna talk to that dumbass?” Bakugou grunted.

Except, that wasn’t what he was worried about. He knew that he’d royally fucked up at the party from the week before, and the guilt had been eating away at him since. Bakugou was aware that you had every right to be upset with him and he wouldn’t be too surprised if you didn’t want to speak to him after your fallout. He just hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

“Don’t gotta lie to me, Bakubro. That wouldn’t be very manly of you, besides I’m tired of seeing you look so miserable.”

Your apartment complex came into view as Kirishima turned a corner, entering the parking lot.

“Tch, if this goes wrong then I just want you to remember that it was your idea to take me here.” The blonde scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

- - -

Bakugou wiped his hands against the material of his pants, drying off the sweat that had collected on his walk to your front door. He went over everything he wanted to say in his head before taking a deep breath and knocking on the wooden door. The voice in his head nagged at him louder than ever to turn around and never look back, he could get away in time if he ran, he thought. With each passing second, the voice grew louder and louder until the idea sounded nearly too tempting to pass up. Of course, before he could walk away and flee the scene, you answered the door.

“What do you want, Bakugou?”

He glanced up to look at you, grimacing at the coldness in your voice and how could he ignore the way you’d called him by his last name? Though his mind was soon filled with other concerns, like how exhausted you looked and sounded.

“Just wanted to talk…” his voice came out uncharacteristically timid as if he was afraid you’d slam the door in his face any second now.

You scoffed bitterly, “oh really? Now you want to talk? Thought you were too busy?”

“Look, I know I fucked up. Trust me, I know. So can we just go inside so we can talk?” Bakugou awkwardly shifted back and forth on his feet, hands shoved into his pockets while his gaze remained on you.

A brief silence filled the air between you two as he waited for your response, nervously chewing on his bottom lip in the meantime. You sighed before silently pushing the door open and stepping aside, warily letting him in once again. Shutting the door behind him, you motioned for him to head towards the couch.

“Just… wait here,” you said before disappearing into your room.

The blonde felt out of place as he stood in your living room, decorated with picture frames on the walls. He hadn’t been in your apartment in a long time, probably not since your housewarming party that you threw shortly after graduating from UA. The place didn’t look that much different from what he remembered, you still had the same rug, though it had a few stains now and the scent of the caramel apple scented candles you loved still lingered in the air.

After a few moments of standing in place awkwardly, he hesitantly walked towards the chimney to further inspect a picture that had caught his attention. It was a photo of you and him back when you still attended UA, the very same photo he’d kept in his wallet all these years. Hesitantly picking up the picture frame, he felt himself relax a bit as he reminisced all the good memories he shared with you.

“Miss those days?”

Your voice spooked him enough to clumsily place the picture frame back to where it belonged. Unsure what to say, Bakugou remained silent though his eyes spoke for him. God, he missed those times dearly.

“Yeah,” you sighed before walking into the living room, “I do too. Everything was a lot less confusing back then.”

Still, at a loss for words, Bakugou followed you like a lost puppy to the couch before tentatively sitting down. He felt like an idiot for not being able to use his words and get this over with, but it was your presence that turned him into a speechless fool.

“Are you going to keep staring at me? Or are you going to finally tell me what the fuck is going on?” You rolled your eyes at him from the opposite end of the sofa.

“Uh, yeah I just- I don’t know what to say.” He admitted bashfully.

“You’re joking, right? You don’t know what to say? Why are you even here?”

“No- that’s not what I meant. Obviously, I came here to get some things off my chest. I’m just not very good at this sort of thing and...” his voice trailed off into nothing but silence.

“Spit it out already, for fucks sake. I’m tired of waiting, Bakugou.” Your harshness stung but he knew he deserved it.

“Listen, I came to say that… I’m sorry. Okay? I know that I’ve been an asshole and probably caused you a few headaches,” he noticed your scoff before continuing, “I was dealing with some personal issues and took it out on you and I’m sorry.”

“What personal issues were you dealing with that could’ve warranted you treating me like shit? What could’ve been so bad that you shoved aside all our years of friendship and pretended like I didn’t even fucking exist, huh?”

Up until this point, you’d done a decent job at keeping your feelings bottled up. Years of doubt, pain, and confusion were all kept under wraps until now.

“Do you have any idea how much sleep I’ve lost staying up wondering what I did wrong and why you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore? Do you have any clue how much it hurt when I realized that my supposed best friend didn’t want to talk to me anymore?”

There was a certain rawness behind your words, a glimpse at your emotions that showed how hurt you truly were. Bakugou could tell that you were upset, and rightfully so. He knew he needed to hurry up and get his point across before it was too late, and yet he remained frozen in place. Mind racing at a million miles per hour, heart seemingly beating accordingly. At one point, your words had stopped registering in his head, all he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat.

“Oh, my god! Are you even listening?” You exclaimed exasperatedly.

Bakugou blinked a few times before replying, “yes! I’m listening, I just- there’s a lot on my mind and it’s- it’s a lot.”

You stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response to the rant you’d just dumped on him. It was hard to look at him for longer than a few seconds, and if you looked for a moment longer, you feared that you’d give in and forgive him. But you needed to stay strong and stand your ground, you couldn’t keep putting up with his shit forever and pretend like it was okay. You deserved better.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he sighed.

“Well, you did.”

His eyes flashed a look of guilt before he averted his gaze to his lap, “I know I did, and I’m sorry. Didn’t mean for things to get this bad, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Okay… but I still want an explanation as to why you suddenly decided to change your attitude towards me.”

“I know! I’m getting there, damn it. This isn’t easy for me, you know. I’m trying my best so just… be patient with me.” He frowned.

“Can I… can I try something? Do you trust me?” Your expression softened, body turning towards him.

“Tch. I guess so.” Bakugou grumbled.

“Then I want you to come here and rest your head on my lap, like the old days. Remember?” You offered him a slight smile as you patted your thighs.

A confused expression fell upon Bakugou’s face as he stared back at you. It took him a moment before he slowly let his guard down just enough to do as you said, hesitantly resting his head on your lap. You smiled down at him before gently rubbing circles on his temples, something you did back in UA whenever he strained himself too much during training. A noticeable silence filled the room as he felt himself melting into your embrace, something he had missed dearly.

“Now, go ahead and talk to me. I’m listening.”

Bakugou nodded before taking a deep breath, “you’re too kind for your own good, you know. I don’t deserve this, and I sure as hell don’t deserve you, not after everything I’ve done.”

“Ssh, just keep talking.”

“But it’s the truth…” he sighed, “you want to know why I’ve been so distant?”

You hummed.

The blonde shut his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts, “it’s ‘cause I was doing you a favor— or at least I thought I was. I thought that by leaving you in the past, with my memories of UA, that I’d be able to make things easier on the both of us. Apparently, that wasn’t the case because here we are, three years later back to square one.”

“Why would you think that would be such a good idea?”

“Because… all my life I’ve been this selfish bastard who destroyed everything in his path to get to the top. I’ve done fucked up shit that caused so much pain, so much destruction and if I could take it all back then trust me, I would. Eventually, I got tired of being the bad guy, so I decided that it would be best if I just left you alone.”

Your hands ceased momentarily, “So let me get this straight. You thought that you’d be doing me a favor by ghosting me with no warning? Didn’t you ever stop to consider just how hard it would be for me to lose my best friend?”

“You think it’s been any easier on me?” He scoffed.

“I feel like there’s still more you’re not telling me.”

“Yeah… I guess there’s no more avoiding it now, is there?”

“Nope.”

A sigh slipped past the blonde’s lips, “Figured. Listen here dumbass ‘cause I’m only saying this once. I didn’t exactly plan on falling for my best friend, but I did. It scared the hell out of me at first, just ask Shitty Hair. It still scares me if I’m completely honest.”

“How long? Since you realized that you had feelings for me?” You questioned.

“Far too long.”

Truthfully, Bakugou couldn’t have given you an accurate response even if he wanted to. He had no idea when these feelings had started to develop, all he knew was that one day you smiled at him and he felt his heart race like never before.

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Be happy that I even told you because I was already set on taking these feelings with me to the grave.”

“Is it really so bad that you like me?” You frowned.

Part of you knew that Bakugou was never the best at putting things nicely and usually it didn’t bother you. Not after years of growing accustomed to his blunt honesty. But that didn’t mean that his words didn’t sting just a tiny bit. Sure, you were happy that you’d gotten your answer but perhaps you’d be happier if he didn’t seem so bothered by the fact that he had feelings for you.

“You need to stop doing that. Stop talking about yourself like you’re just another damn extra. All my life, I’ve looked down on others. Never thought anyone would ever be as great as me. Yet, here you are and now I realize that I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you.”

Bakugou let out a frustrated sigh before sitting up and distancing himself from you, “So maybe it is bad that I like you as much as I do. ‘Cause, you deserve to be with someone perfect for you and I am far from that… Except, I don’t want to let you go. I’m fuckin’ selfish and I want to keep you all to myself. It’s fucked up, I know, but it’s the truth.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, too busy processing all the information that had been dumped on you. It was a lot, but not necessarily in a bad way. There’d always been a glimmer of hope in the back of your mind that he felt the same way but you never expected him to ever admit it. Now that everything was out in the open, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with joy. Katsuki Bakugou, your best friend whom you’d been secretly harboring feelings for had finally admitted that those feelings were mutual.

“I’m the idiot that fell in love with their best friend...” the blonde mumbled, low enough that you’d nearly missed it.

If he had said anything else before that sentence then you hadn’t heard it, you found it hard to focus on his words when all you could think about was kissing him. Ignoring the nerves racing through your body, you took a leap of faith and gently shoved him down onto the sofa, leaning in for a kiss. Bakugou’s face heated up almost instantly with the blush spread across his face as evidence, his hand instinctively cradling the back of your head.

You smiled against his lips, “Well, then I guess that makes two of us.”

masterlist // taglist open // requests open

@combat-wombatus @sunflowersuki @blacpiink

#bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha imagine #my writings

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eeunoia · 3 years

Text

ENHYPEN Imagines

súton

súton; the approach of death or the end of something.

lee heeseung, a high-paid hitman was assigned for a new mission to kill somebody. he didn’t think of it as much of a big deal not until he saw the picture of his past love interest inside the folder.

genre: angst

warning: mention of guns, blood and death

word count: 3.9k

a/n: this was requested to me here and when i first saw it, i knew it was a good plot so I couldn’t really waste it. i don’t know if i wrote it well but i hope i did. i think the plot kind of changed a little and i’m so sorry for that. i hope you like it anon, please message me if you did! 🌸

with slow and heavy steps, heeseung wandered through a very quiet and dark alleyway that leads him towards an old apartment building. it was old, rusty and shabby that normal people won’t really have interest in it. but for people like him, it’s a perfect place to stay in.

as he slightly stretched his tired arm, heeseung made his way inside his apartment only to be greeted by one of his acquaintances. he seems to be a bit surprised to see him back earlier than expected.

“oh, hyung! you’re back already.” he stated something very obvious. heeseung eyed him and gave him a small nod before walking his way at the sofa not talking much.

“did you finish the job?” he asked curiously. heeseung’s eyes lazily trailed from the carpet up to the innocent looking eyes of the person in front of him.

“yeah, otherwise i won’t be here in front of you, jake.” he answered. the boy’s mouth went ‘o’ at the realization and smiled at him brightly.

“you finished the job pretty quickly, hyung! as expected from lee heeseung!” heeseung was silent as he showers him with compliments.

it may appear amusing to him right as of the moment but for heeseung, it had come to the point that it became plainly boring. as he looked over the boy in front of him who’s very excited, he kind of remind him of his past self. back when he still hasn’t kill a lot of people.

so far, his first assignment was the most memorable mission he had. as it almost fail because he lets nervous and fear took over him. he find himself very pathetic whenever he remembers that time. after all the trainings and all, he thought he was beyond ready for his first shot. but even before he can pull the trigger, his conscience took over and he halted.

the target almost left but thankfully he finished the job. he vomit a lot after that. he even had to re-think his life decisions after that but realizes he doesn’t have any much choice but to continue that job.

“before i forgot, hyung! a mail arrived for you yesterday.” jake marched towards a pile of mails and rummaged over it to go look for the one he’s talking about.

heeseung eyed him waiting for the said mail. he have a feeling that it’s from the organization, probably another job. he cursed inside his mind thinking that he just finished a job and here’s already a new one. they aren’t giving him any break.

“found it!” he sounded so excited as he walked towards heeseung while smiling and holding a mail.

heeseung muttered a small ‘thanks’ and carefully unwrap the mail.

“who delivered it?” he asked jake who’s just beside him, it looks like he’s curious too to what’s inside the mail.

“yeonjun hyung did.”

heeseung just gave him a small nod as he saw a familiar folder inside. this folder indicate who’s he’s next target for the job. he was used to it actually, but sometimes he thinks about until when does he needs to receive this kind of folder?

the phone rang so jake stood right up and left heeseung to answer it. heeseung on the other hand was just starring right at the folder. he doesn’t know but he suddenly have this unexplainable feeling inside of him. it was just the folder for his job and he was so sure that he’s used to it. not even once does he feel nervous to know who’s he’s target. but today seems to be different...

as he carefully lift the cover of the folder, he was dumbfounded to find the picture of the person inside. his jaw clenched as his mind wanders off to somewhere. he doesn’t know how to react when he saw someone’s picture, not just familiar but someone he really knew. it was no other than you, his only ex-girflriend.

it was past 2am when heeseung silently followed your car droved through the silent road. it was raining and he waited for almost 8 hours for you to leave your apartment. this is the first day of him watching you before he fulfill his job.

heeseung knew for a fact that even though after ending everything between the two of you and after cutting all of the ties, deep down his stoned heart, he still have feelings for you. but from now on, you are not the y/n he loved but the y/n that he needs to kill.

his brows furrowed at the sight of an unfamiliar road that you were taking. the road leads you out of the city and the sight of buildings slowly turned into big trees and the houses were starting to be apart from each other. in the years of being with you, he never knew you know somebody here.

heeseung’s car slowed down at the sight of yours stopping. it was a long drive that it’s already 7am and the sun is now brightly shining above you. he sat back silently watching you as you went out of your car in front of this property.

he watched as you gracefully hang some hair strands over your ear and brush away some of it. you still didn’t change, your angelic face was still there and you still wear that expression of yours that makes you look so innocent. heeseung used to love that face.

his eyes darted over to a bunch of kids who’s running towards your direction. with a big smile and open arms you crouched down to hug them all. screams and giggles from the children and you quickly erupted. heeseung was just watching this unfamiliar side of you. it wasn’t the first time he saw you interact with kids but this is the first time again after splitting away from each other.

his eyes observed the surrounding and realized that you’re at an orphanage. he didn’t know why you’re here and he also didn’t know that there was an orphanage here. the place was very far from the city.

heeseung eyed your direction once more before he carefully drove his car away trying to look for a place to stay in while he watches you.

after finding a place, he sneaks back over and even roamed around the place. he’d saw the kids at the wide yard play together while you watches over them. you were smiling and it seems like you’re indeed enjoying yourself. heeseung quickly looked away right after seeing you smile. he knew to himself that he shouldn’t let his emotions took over him. he’s just doing his job.

night came faster than expected and as heeseung saw you walked outside alone, wearing a hooded jacket and your pants, he secretly followed behind you. you walked through a dark and quiet route bravely like as if you’re just taking a stroll over somewhere safe.

as you both slowly far from the orphanage, heeseung halted as you stopped from walking and just stood still.

“i know you’re there, lee heeseung.” you said that made heeseung let out a sigh and slowly reveal himself from where he was just hiding.

“how did you know?” he asked and slowly walked towards you but still kept his distance. you turned around facing him. he met eyes with you and your features reflect from the light of the bright moon above both of you.

“saw your car following me.” you stated like as if it wasn’t a big deal.

he was left silence, doesn’t really know what exactly to say. you sighed and sat down over an old wood bench. heeseung carefully watches your every move.

“what are you doing at a place like this, y/n?” he asked and put his hands inside his pocket. your eyes trailed from him over to the beautiful moon.

“shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that, heeseung? why are you here, following me?” you asked him then looked straightly to his eyes.

heeseung kept his blank face despite the feeling of his chest tightening as he answered you.

“I am here to do my job.” he simply answered. he knew you understand what he’s trying to say. with a soft chuckle you lower your head.

“am I that important now that they sent the great lee heeseung to kill me?” you even followed it with a chuckle then looked back at him.

heeseung was serious and silent. he’s kind of pissed that you’re reacting this way even after knowing the fact that he’s there to kill you.

“so why are you here, y/n? why still go here when you already know i am following you?” heeseung leaned over a big tree beside him.

he saw you smiled a little as you turn your gaze back at him, “well, i thought i could use some fresh air before doing my job.” you said while still eyeing heeseung. you were smiling while he’s still keeping his straight face.

“you’re not the only one employed here, heeseung.” you even added and chuckled a little.

heeseung was still serious, “then why not go and observe your target now so you can do the job cleanly?” he asked still curious. he still find it odd for you to be here.

“oh don’t worry...” you said while facing down. heeseung looked at you with now furrowed brows. you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes and he doesn’t know if it’s just his mere imagination or he really did saw sorrow flickered through your eyes.

“I am pretty sure my target will follow me here.” you added.

“so you were tasked to kill me?” that came out more of a statement than a question. you scoffed and just nodded your head once.

you were dumbfounded to know that heeseung’s next target was you but it was more surprising when you were given the task to eliminate heeseung. your boss told you that he’s becoming a hindrance to your organization’s jobs. he was known for keeping it low and it’s almost impossible to track him down. it’s even impossible to know who’s his next target and when’s he’s gonna execute them.

you thought this was the worst way to have a reunion with your ex-boyfriend. the last time you saw each other was the night you decided to end everything between you. problems were slowly getting riled up and both of your works were going in the way.

you both did tried to work things out since you knew pretty well that the love you both have for each other were not just petty emotions. it was something deep that no one else can get and understand but the two of you.

“uh-huh. and I also know that i’m your next target so I knew you’ll follow me here.” you said that made heeseung confuse.

“how did you know that you’ll be my next target?” he asked wondering.

“is it important?” you asked him that made him shut his mouth for a while.

even before heeseung can say something, you interrupted him.

“so when will you plan to kill me?” you asked him like it was just a normal matter, like as if that job doesn’t include any of you dying.

heeseung inhaled heavily, “in three days? i don’t know. when do you want to die?” heeseung can’t feel anything anymore. looking at you right now made him realize that you’re someone from his past, someone he used to value other than himself.

you chuckled at how straightforward heeseung was, “three days sounds good but don’t expect that i’m the only one dying.” you said while eyeing him straight to his eyes.

he gave you a small nod as both of you snapped your head towards the side when you heard someone calling out your name. you sighed then stood up treating that as a signal to go and leave heeseung for now.

“that’s my signal, see you in three days.” you gave him a small plain smile before you started walking away from him.

you’re not gonna lie, the heeseung you just faced with is very far from who you’ve loved from before. it looks like he became like the heeseung that he is while he still haven’t met you. when you first met him, his eyes were cold and blank. you knew for a fact that he also kill people for a living, and his name is kind of popular.

but he changed when he met you. he started laughing and expressing other emotions when he’s with you. you two were happy despite the differences you both had. it was unexplainable how love just bind you both without fail.

when you turn around to look at the place where you left heeseung, he was already gone. you gulped then faced forwards as you let your emotions to take over your system once again after so long. tears took over your eyes as your chest aches of pain. mixed emotions were over your mind, not really knowing what you feel exactly.

unsure of many things, there’s only one thing that you know for sure, that if there is some who can finish the job, it would be heeseung.

heeseung’s eyes snapped open as he heard the clicking sound from the door of the room he’s currently staying in. it was midnight and he was pretty sure someone’s trying to enter the place.

with careful and silent movements, he reached over the gun under his pillow. his steps can’t even be heard as he slowly walked over the door and hid behind it.

the person at the other side seems like good with picking locks at they succeeded in opening the door right away. with fast and firm moves, heeseung got his gun pointed at the person’s head.

“don’t move or i’ll blow your head.” he said.

you turned around and that just hit him, that it was you who entered his room. his brows furrowed at the sight, n “how did you know where i stay--” he was cut off by your sudden embrace. he was defenseless as his hand holding a gun backs up and just hang beside you.

“heeseung did you ever loved me?” one sentence and he knew that you were drunk. he sighed and used his free hand to hold your waist since you’re kind of losing your balance.

“y/n, you’re drunk!” he said but he was stunned as he heard muffled sniffs over from you. you were crying.

“did you ever love me, heeseung? because i loved you.” he shrugged it off and cursed and put his gun over at some drawer before he carried your crying ass. he placed you over at his bed then pulled a chair to sit on.

“you seriously have death wish, y/n. why did you come here?” he asked pissed off. it was midnight and the last thing expected to be his intruder was you. when you know for a fact that he was sent to kill you.

coming there without having any thing to defend you other than you’re crying face was both stupid and genius. heeseung knew you know how he hates seeing you cry.

“when i told you years ago to just come with me and ran away from all of this shits we wouldn’t be in this kind of situation! I wouldn’t be miserable because i have to kill you.” you ignored what he just said and just continued blabbering your unsaid thoughts to him.

he ran his hand over to his hair as he watched you cry in front of him. pursing his lips and leaning both of his elbows over at his knees, he starred right at you.

“and i also made it clear to you that leaving this job was not as easy as you think. you thought they’ll just let us go once we went missing? no! leaving this job is like wishing for a bullet to be fired into our heads. they’ll hunt both of us down!” he was frustrated too. he’s mind was occupied ever since he saw your picture over at that stupid folder.

he let out a sigh as he kept his sorrowful eyes at you, “and I’m meant to kill you.” his voice almost broke as he said those words to you.

“i would rather have both of us hunt down than to fill my hands with your blood.” tears desperately fell from your eyes as you whale after. you couldn’t contain your emotions anymore.

just by thinking that you both have to kill each other hurts you so much. he was someone you valued and it you didn’t thought you’ll reach this point.

“i’m sorry.” heeseung muttered lowly as you watch him approach you closer. with confused eyes you look at him but lets him get closer.

it was so sudden that you didn’t even see it coming. feeling pain strike you made you realized that heeseung just punched you over your stomach to get you unconscious.

and as your surroundings turn blurry, you felt his hot breath brushed over your ears as he softly whispers something.

“i did love you, y/n. you were the only person i cared about in this world other than myself.” and everything just turned black.

with the soft muffled chirping of birds from somewhere awoke you. rubbing your eyes you slowly woken up from your sleep.as you raised your head, you noticed the unfamiliar place and then you realized that you went to heeseung’s place last night.

“good morning,” you heard him talked behind you. while heart thumping faster, you fell back over his bed and lets him rest his chin over your head.

then you felt his arm tightly caging you at your position, “why am i still alive?” you asked, feeling lost.

when you went here last night, you made yourself ready for the consequences of your action. death was right in front of you already that’s why you were a little surprised to be awake and still breathing.

you felt heeseung’s soft lips rested over at your temple, “i said three days.” and he carefully ran his fingers over at your arm.

you gulped shutting your eyes closed feeling his every touch. you won’t lie that this actually still makes you feel safe. even knowing that he isn’t your boyfriend anymore and that he’s now here to kill you doesn’t change anything. you’ve never felt safer anywhere but inside his arms.

you just starred over how the sun slowly rise and greets both of you at the window. it was a peaceful way to start the day.

“did you really mean it when you said you wanted to ran away with me?” heeseung asked bravely.

he didn’t slept a wink last night. you were laid over his bed, defenseless but he didn’t kill you. he doesn’t have the heart to do it but instead, he chose to lay beside you and cherish the remaining time.

you turned and faced him, heeseung rested his head over at his palm as he watches over your eyes.

“i'd leave everything for you.” you sincerely said as you raised your hand to caress his face.heeseung felt warm the moment your skin touches his. he missed the familiar warmth and memories came flashing back as he shut his eyes close.

“i’m sorry y/n.” he was broken, frustrated and full of regrets. but he’s nobody to turn back time. he’s just a sinful person who killed a lot of people for money.

you smiled softly, heart aches for the love of your life. pursing your lips you carefully cupped his face and lead it down on you.

with soft touch of kisses you showered every inches of his face with your butterfly like kiss. heeseung was lost, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. emotions and thoughts mixed up over at his system and he doesn’t know what to follow anymore.

“let’s ran away.” his voice faltered as he said that to you.

heart beating so fast, those surely excites you but you know that you’re suffering won’t end if you do that. all of this just tires you out and obviously had you sick of living. you can’t even call this living! having your name always in the list of the cops and trying hard not to be seen by almost everyone was not the kind of life you wanted.

“we have to finish our job.” you said lowly and lastly pulled his face over at you.you starred right into his beautiful eyes before kissing him over his cheeks then to his lips.

“i’ll see you later.” and you slid away from his touch.before you made it outside you turned and look at him.

“make sure to load your gun with one bullet.”

he was dumbfounded, doesn’t know how he’ll react to this. he thought you’ll agree to him but he guess you were tired of this life too.

his eyes soon darted over his abandoned gun that was still right above the drawer. he stood up and grabbed it.

the night was very cold but heeseung didn’t mind it. he was just there, standing under the bright moon, waiting for you. he got his gun loaded with just one bullet over at his back.

his head raise at the sound of small branches breaking because of steps of somebody. he saw you gracefully walking towards him.with a small smile you approached him. he smiled at you, “it’s cold tonight.” he said. you nodded your head and stopped right in front of him.

carefully, you raised your hand over to his face and caress it softly.

“let’s finish it today, heeseung.”

with a sad smile he responded, “okay,”

you sighed heavily and raised your gun. your eyes were darted straightly at his. heeseung held your hand that holding your gun and pointed it over at his chest.

he raised his and straightly point it to your chest too. you smiled, “on three...”

his eyes never left yours as he tighten his grip over at the trigger of his gun.

“1,”

“2,”

“3,”

a loud bang echoed throughout the silent forest. blood splash all over heeseung as his eyes blinked in surprise. he’s pretty sure he heard and saw you pull your trigger, but why doesn’t he feel anything?

his eyes watered as he watch you smile, almost out of breath. with the last energy left on you, you raised your hand to cup his warm face. heeseung don’t know what to feel as he felt your used to be warm hand slowly turning cold.

“you did well, baby.” coughing out blood after saying that, heeseung lose all his strength and dropped at the floor together with your body.

he lets go of his gun and held your body close to him. your stares remain at his face, “no! y/n,” he desperately called you out.

“i love you and you’re the only one i cared about more than myself, heeseung.” slowly your hand fell together with heeseung’s tears.

he cried out and looked over at your gun. he reached over it while still holding you by his another arm. he point the gun over at his head and clicked the gun but once again, nothing.

his heart sank by realizing that your gun was empty. with tears streaming down his face, he embraced your now lifeless body close to him.

thoughts clouded by so much, pain ate everything in him. heart’s starting to feel numb he shut his eyes trying to convince himself that you are not dead. but it was too late, your used to be warm body that comforts everything in him turned so cold.

“i love you.” voice full of sorrow and despair heeseung cried out desperately feeling helpless knowing for a fact that he lost someone he cherished the most.

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disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

Text

The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 3.4k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week.

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent. He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you. Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

#Javier Peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #javi x you #javi x reader #javier pena x reader #narcos netflix #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña imagine #pedro fandom #the rules of engagement #better love #angst #slow burn #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort #smut

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

shinsou and the very terrible, horrible, no good, very bad shift

— You, a new sidekick, screw up a case for a Pro Hero Shinsou, and he demands compensation.

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pairing: older!shinsou hitoshi x younger fem!reader

warnings: age gap (shinsou 25, reader 18), nsfw, 18+, pwp, DEGRADATION, power imbalance, spanking, marking, cursing, shinsou is a major asshole, mindbreak, sorta subspace, happy ending for shinsou, depending on person unhappy ending for reader, public sex, dubcon because of power imbalance

word count: 3,892

a/n: happy halloween. this is mean degradation imo like I thought ive done degradation but this made all those look like praise kink. be careful and click out if its too much

kinktober day 20 main kink: degradation | kinktober masterlist

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How you ever forgot that as a high school hero-in-training student, you were a big fish in a tiny pond was beyond you. Well, to be quite honest, you never thought yourself to be a big fish, to begin with.

You were eighteen, a few months from turning nineteen and had just graduated from the hero course over at UA. That in itself was a huge accomplishment, one that you should take with bubbling pride and joy, but to be quite honest, having such a big name attached to you only made you nervous. To tell the truth, you often wondered just why a hero within the top 50 even scouted you to work as an intern with them and then offer you a position as a sidekick as soon as you entered your third year. Still, it seemed to be a common predicament with BMI Hero: FatGum.

Today was your first day on the job, no longer a student part of a hero work-study, but as a physical, government paid hero — a fickle sidekick! You shuddered as you slipped on the shoes to your outfit, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you made your way out of the locker room, ready to report to your first assignment.

FatGum agency was quite a lovely place, loud and warm, being the first two adjectives you thought of when you first joined their ranks. It did wonders for your self-esteem, and seeing newly turned Pro Hero Suneater, who apparently was a million times more of a nervous mess than you were, made you feel oddly in good hands.

But still, nothing could keep you from the shock that ran through your body when FatGum proudly thrust forward a patrol route for you to follow.

“Alright, pipsqueak,” FatGum jovially spoke, his eyes closed while he smiled. “This is your route for the day! It should take about an hour to get through unless anything happens! You’ll go on the route every three hours, and in between those patrols, it’s the same paper system as before! Good luck out there, y/h/n, you got this!”

“Oh my god, no, I do not?!” you spluttered, hands shaking wildly as you went through the folder Fat had so quickly presented. “What if I die?!”

“You’ll be fine. Remember how Deku and Ground Zero complimented you the other day?”

“Yeah!” you exclaim, your face burning with your shame as you remembered that confrontation. “But that only happened because Deku is a living saint, and I spilled my noodles all over him and Ground Zero! Ground Zero was also, by the way, forced to compliment me by Deku! And all he said was that my combat skills were absolutely shitty but not as shitty as he thought they would be!”

“Ah yes, I remember Red Riot discussing how his friend was less than inept at expressing his gratitude,” FatGum hummed in memory, although that dumb, proud smile never left his face. “If I remember correctly, that means he has great respect for you!”

You made a dying noise at the back of your throat.

“But Deku doesn’t lie! He speaks honestly, so all his compliments were definitely true. Now, y/h/n, let's get through this day together, ne?”

You didn’t agree, but that wouldn’t stop him from throwing you out to the streets, your heart hammering in your throat as you walked through the path he used to take you on every day. Your smile was shaky and wobbly as the people you recognized waved and cheered you on. They were all excited to see you on your own.

However, they did point out that you were here an entire hour earlier than usual, but hey! That’s what happened when you went from being a student to trying to function as an adult!

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” you chanted as you passed by the spookiest alleyway on your patrol.

The hour-long patrol was almost done if your watch wasn’t lying to you: a full patrol and not a single instance of needing to help. Well, you had assisted some people in carrying groceries and holding a child as a mother shopped for dinner that night, but there were no altercations, nothing out of the ordinary.

You marched through the alleyway, your fists in a shaky clenched grip as cold, nervous sweat dripped down your neck.

You were okay, you are okay, you will be okay.

“Nothing to be afraid of! Just a normal, average, no villains insight day!” you spoke to yourself, your body shaking as you pass an opening in the alleyway, and you turn your head to look and freeze.

“Alright, and I don’t want fucking nobody hearing goddamn shit about this drug, got it?!” a man with a quirk that made him look like a blowfish snapped.

Six men stood in the alleyway, all with tall, massive, threatening vibes. You didn’t make a single noise; you knew that for a fact, but their gazes still fell on you the moment the man stopped speaking. A horrible, stupid movie cliche that happened too often in hero life.

Your life probably flashed before your eyes at that single moment, your body and mind instinctively moving to call the heroes before realizing that you were the hero now. What do you do?! What could you do?! Drugs?! Did they have drugs?!

Panicking greatly, you watched their mouths move, but you couldn’t hear them as you took in their faces in a blur. Before you knew it, your mind shut down, and your body took over. You weren’t sure what it was. If you were way stronger than the entire group or if you just had an untapped potential that burst open right now, because you blinked and suddenly there were all thrown onto the floor, busted and bloody and tied up.

You… you did it?!

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, your hands rising to your mouth as you looked at each and every one of their smushed, dirty faces. “I WON?! I won, oh my god, I won — wait?!”

You stepped over to the purple-haired man on the floor, his mouth stuffed with a cloth fabric you probably shoved in there at some point.

“M-Mindjack-sensei?!” you cried, your excitement of betting this drug handoff simmering off immediately. “W-What are you doing? Were you gonna stop this drug handoff? I — oh my god, let me get this off!” You scrambled to get the restraints off of Shinsou, unaware of the way the other captured men glared at Shinsou, utterly shocked and betrayed as you cleared him.

“Thank you for the capture, y/h/n!” a police officer congratulated you as you freed Shinsou, and you smiled, nodding your head. “Is it just four of them?”

You froze.

You had counted six men at first, and with Shinsou recovered, that made five men.

“I didn’t… I lost one of them?” you deflated, all sense of confidence draining you as Shinsou remained on the floor.

“Ah,” the police officer grimaced, his head shaking before he paused and looked up at you with a halfhearted smile. “Well, you still did good work! We’ll see what drug they were talking about, and if it’s nothing too crazy, they’ll be good to go!”

“Yeah, of course,” you smile weakly, feeling ready to cry as you hold onto your wrist.

“But, uh, who’s the guy on the ground?” he nodded towards Shinsou, who was looking entirely pissed off and ready to bite like some cornered, raging animal.

“Oh, Mindjack!” you respond, hands motioning toward one of the other older Pro Heroes you looked up to.

The police officer stared at Shinsou, an unconvinced look on his face.

“I thought he was… ah, well, old? And didn’t he have black hair?” he muttered before shrugging. You didn’t manage to stutter out your knowledge of the older man with black hair being Eraserhead because he was long gone already, fingers pressed to his radio, chatting with his HQ.

Breathing out a nervous sigh, you turned to Shinsou with a shy and fully apologetic smile. “I am so sorry for hurting you! Are you okay?” you asked, your eyes scanning the older heroes' stance, unable to read anything but annoyance radiating from his body.

“No, I’m not okay, actually,” Shinsou spat, his face finally looking up from the floor, and you felt your throat run thick at the rage and anger simmering from his face.

“W-Wha—” you stammer, taking a step back, overwhelmed.

“You just fucking ruined six months of undercover work,” he seethed, his feet moving to stalk towards you. You found yourself stumbling backward, looking everywhere but at him. You can feel your balance giving; the cold filth of the alleyway wall your saving grace as his fingers grabbed your jaw, forcing you to face him. His purple eyes black in his fury. “I don’t think you realized just how badly you fucked up?! You stupid fucking child!”

A wash of ice-cold realization flooded through you, the horror of what you knew you just did completely dawning on you as tears sprung in your eyes. You felt nauseous, utterly sick to your stomach because this seasoned Pro Hero definitely had shit to do, and you practically shat all over it.

“I am so sorry,” you whimper, pain shooting through you just slightly at the grip he has on your chin. “I am so so sorry, i-is there anything that I c-can do?! How can I-I fix it?!”

“You think I need help from some crybaby?” Shinsou snapped, thoroughly unimpressed by you, his eyes narrowing further. You didn’t even realize you were crying already.

“I-I’m useful, I promise!” you cry a bit more, your body struggling as the older hero trapped you against the wall, his face glowering down at you with the intensity of a million suns. “I-I’m a sidekick over a-at Fatgum’s agency, but, oh fuck, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything you ask of me!”

There’s a looming silence, a heavy tension as his eyes drop from your eyes to your parted wet lips. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel every heavy breath expelling on your face.

“You think a pathetic, worthless little sidekick is able to do anything for me?” Shinsou snapped, his eyes narrowing as he loomed even closer. “A pathetic fucking bitch like you? I don’t think you can give me even a simple fucking action that would prove your worth.”

The words are hot embers on your ears, making your jaw drop, and your body trembles at the simple degradation. You feel your tears hot on your cheeks, your parted lips invaded by his dirt-covered fingers as he pressed onto your tongue. It had to be the shock of it, the reality of the hot, hard dick pressing into your stomach and the way he was staring at you like some piece of fucking meat, but you gagged around his fingers.

“Why am I not fucking surprised, you goddamn fucking whore,” he sneered, his fingers shoving faster into your mouth, pressing dangerously hard against your tongue, trying to get you to gag and choke around his fingers. “You fucking sure you’re a fucking sidekick? Look at you, pathetic, stupid, crying like a baby in an alleyway? You’re a hero, aren’t you? Fucking save yourself from this, you fucking bitch.”

You violently shake, your hands finding themselves tethered to his shirt, your head shaking nonetheless.

“Oh, you don’t want to save yourself?” He coos, his expression turning the slightest bit amused, maybe a bit possessive, but it lasts a second. You blink, and anger has replaced the amusement, red streaking in his vision. “Why the fuck not?”

“B-Because,” you strangle, your tongue flat against your mouth, your throat instinctively opening and closing against his fingers. “I said I’ll do anything y-you wanted!”

There’s another pause, and you wait pressed against the wall, your chest heaving with your anxiety and weird turned-on state. Shinsou was a Pro Hero, someone who was eight years older than you, someone you had respected since you were in grade school. Yet, here you were, looking nothing more than a slab of meat to him, a hole for him to abuse in his anger because you had fucked up.

“Oh, you stupid fucking slut,” he laughed, his teethed bared into a feral smirk. “You want this, huh. You want to please me any way I see fucking fit, fucking perfect. Turn around.”

There’s no room to argue or think; he turns you around without a second's notice. His hand shoving your chest into the wall, and you cry at the discomfort. He grabs your ass, pushing you uncomfortably into an arched position as he tears your pants down from your legs.

“You’re a worthless fucking cumdump. Not even noon yet, and I’m going use your fucking body however I see fit.” Shinsou promises, fingers raking down your supple ass. Nails tearing into your skin, fingers slapping your covered cunt. “You worthless fucking slut, dirty fucking whore, already goddamn wet.”

“I’m n-not wet!” you cry, hips spasming against his rough hold, and slaps to your aching cunt. You know it’s a lie, you know that clear as day, but it doesn’t keep you from lying. Doesn’t stop you from shivering when he pinches at the cloth of your panties and removes them from your sopping wet folds.

“You think I don’t know if you’re wet or not?” Shinsou growled in warning, his fingers pinching together your soaked folds. An action that makes you cry loudly, the sharp pain too much for you. “You think I’m some fucking idiot?”

“N-No!” you cry, his fingers shifting to where your throbbing entrance is and his other hand going to your mouth, once again claiming your lips as his nails purposefully impose pain on your heated cunt.

“You must think that since you’re lying to me,” he snaps, his mouth pressed to your ear, his hot breaths making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You want to speak up, say something, but his fingers are fucking your mouth, keeping you from speaking back. “But again, you aren’t fucking worth anything, are you? You’re not fucking anything.”

Those words whip against your skin, making you twist in his arms, hot tears pushing past your eyes again as you cry.

“Oh, you don’t like that?” Shinsou comments, his fingers pinching and pulling your tongue, and his hips begin to grind his hot, burning flesh into your ass. “Well, you better stop fucking crying because I’m not gonna stop until I’m fucking done — until I’m fucking relieved. This isn’t about you; this is for me. You aren’t shit, fucking worthless piece of shit whore.”

You sob into the brick wall, the tears unable to be stopped, unable to clear as his fingers that were scraping at your folds begin to fuck you at the same time as he fingers your mouth faster. The sensation of being outside, finger fucked in an alleyway by a Pro Hero you admired and respected beyond comparison, made you tremble with want and need. His cruel, completely degrading words a warm fire in your belly and against your skin.

The sounds of the wet caverns he was currently fucking begin to echo in the wall, his throbbing cock grinding against your ass. It’s a sensation that makes you cry with need, your ass shifting back to feel him more, to get more from the contact he’s giving you.

“Of course some screwup like you likes this shit,” Shinsou grunted, his fingers fishing and rubbing against the spongy warmth of your walls, fingers scraping ever so gently against the velvetiness. You spasm against his touch, your whiney, pleasure-filled noises filling up the alleyway almost as loudly as the choking and the squelching of your pussy.

His hands suddenly leave your mouth, and you’re heaving at the deserted feeling in your mouth. You whip your head around, trying to see just why he had abandoned your mouth, desperate to please him more in any way he saw fit. But instead, you’re met with the sicky coldness of your saliva spread across your face. Almost instantly drying against your face as your still tear-soaked eyes looked into his dark ones.

“Don’t look so fucking sad, stupid cockslut,” Shinsou snapped, his hand that had been fucking your cunt abandoning your warmth and meeting your face. You whined, unable to come up with words as he spreads your slick against your face. A shiver wrecks your spine, a pathetic whimper at the smell, and the feel of the warm thickness of your slick. “You wanted this, fucking asked me to wreck your worthless holes.”

“I-I’m not sad,” you try to defend yourself, your body shaking as you feel the heated warmth of his cock suddenly between the curves of your ass. It presses heavily onto you, skin twitching and throbbing with its emitting warmth and simmering heat.

Shinsou pauses, his eyes deadly and threatening as he glares at you. Unamusement heavy in his gaze, his mouth set in a small, teeth-baring snarl. “Then why the fuck are you crying? You think you deserve to be crying right now? No. You fucking worthless slut, you don’t. You ruined my damn shift, my damn case, I should be the one fucking crying. Your pathetic ass is worthless and tried to make my life the same, and that won’t fucking fly.”

The words tighten at your throat, your body trembling as tears continue to flow. His words are white-hot against your skin, and although it hurts to hear it, your cunt clenches in response, slicking even more.

His hand comes down suddenly onto your ass. The slap sharp and stinging, echoing loudly against the alleyway walls as you scream in pain. It throbs, your back contorting as you try to stretch the skin that makes you ache. But Shinsou spanks your ass again, without warning, his hand unmerciful against your soft, swelling flesh. You yelp again.

He spanks again, and again, and again. Each echoing action sending your voice screaming, counting them without even being told, succumbed to him and his every action and thought without needing to be. He spanks you until your ass feels raw and bloody, the bruises undoubtedly forming as he pinches the folds of your dripping cunt.

“Stick your ass out more,” he growls, tugging at the fold, making you stumble. The cock pressing onto the split of your ass feels heavy, and you twitch at the seeping pre-cum dripping onto your muscled rim. The bricks scratch at your face, and you find your ass wiggling out further from the wall, your back arched more as the cold wall sings through the clothes on your breast. “I’m not gonna put more fucking effort into fucking a goddamn worthless bitch than I should.”

And with that, your ass perfectly exposed for him to use and fuck. His throbbing cock presses through your pussy and slams all the way into you.

There were many pains you were used to as an aspiring hero. You were used to being punched, kicked, stabbed, thrown about, etc. Each of those pains were something you had been taught to make feel better, each pain demonstrated to you so that it wouldn’t be the thing that took you out. But there was no training for the way that his thick cock pressed through your impossibly tight entrance. There was no pain that could relate to the white fire of your rapidly fluttering entrance that was trying too hard to keep up with his slamming thick cock.

“IT HURTS!” you shriek, body twisting, tears flooding your cheeks as you feel weak in the legs. Body moments from falling. “It hurts so much! Please! It hurts!”

“Oh? It hurts? It's supposed to fucking hurt you fucking idiot, fucking whore,” Shinsou snapped in return, his hips firing into even faster than before. His massive body practically caving onto you as his cock rockets into you. Unforgiving, relentless, and with the drive to make him cum. Your vision swirls and spins as the pain reaches its peak, your mouth opening, your voice no longer working. But oh, how the saliva dripped from your mouth as his hands abandoned your waist to grab onto your stretched cheeks. He held onto your cheeks like some gag, slamming your head into his chest so your dazed eyes could stare up at him as his menacing gaze bore down on you. “You think this was supposed to make you feel good? I don’t give a shit if you cum. This is for me. I’m not fucking stopping until I’m done using you, so shut the fuck up.”

Your whimper is soft, no longer able to keep up with the pleasure your body begins to reach as the pain becomes one of pure bliss. Your eyes crossing as every thrust of his welcomed cock drives you further and further up the wall. The squelching of your meeting sexes almost sounds like a nursery rhyme. A pleasant noise that makes you giggle deliriously as Shinsou continues to degrade you continues to spout how insignificant you are.

“Your only purpose in your shit life is to be my fucking cumdump, fucking bitch, do you understand me?” Shinsou spat, his thrusting becoming barbaric, stammering in his power and speed. You laugh, your head nodding as you stare up at him with loving eyes, the drool and tears on your face trailing down your throat, soaking your uniform. “Tell me what your purpose is?”

“To be your cumdump!” you laugh, elation bubbling in your chest, fluttering deep around your cunt until you felt Shinsou’s teeth sink into your throat.

The feeling of hot, sticky cum expelling into your cunt feels like blistering euphoria, his heavy, rough breathing on your skin, making you moan softly. Your own orgasm hits, much softer, much more controlled than his as your walls clamp down like a vice around him. Your orgasm is warm, sounding deep within you that you almost didn’t realize you were dropped to the floor.

A soft, pitiful moan sounds from your lip, your eyes focused on Shinsou, who’s shoving his limp cock back into his pants, but his eyes are on the skyline.

“I-I’m sorry for messing up your… your case,” you rasp on the floor.

Shinsou shifts on his feet, his gaze lingering longer onto the skyline before finally setting onto you. The anger seems to have disappeared, a look of slight boredom but the excitement in his eyes as he leans down over you. You feel breathless when his mouth presses against yours in a short, chaste kiss.

“I think you just helped me keep my cover, slut; maybe you do have some worth,” he laughed against your mouth.

He leaves you there, your body going limp and blackness taking over the moment he disappears.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: dubcon #bbs kinktober 2020

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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

The Unexpected Visitor in Small Heath

Summary: Y/N Shelby was a nurse during the war. What happens when a ghost from that past comes looking for her? A ghost with definite intentions...

Word Count: 3683

Trigger Warnings: a slightly handsy dude

A/N: *peeks out from my hiding place* hi guys, I’m back!! Hope you’re all good - to me it feels so amazing to be posting some writing again! As you can probably tell by the word count, I got a bit carried away with this one and so it’s basically unedited, so apologies for any mistakes 😂 Hope you enjoy it! 😘

"About fucking time, Y/N, I've been waiting here for almost a quarter of an hour."

"You've knocked on my door five minutes ago, Tommy, stop being such a dramatic shit!"

To any passers-by outside of Y/N Shelby's house, for a moment it would have looked like the two siblings were about to get into another argument. But any anxieties about that were washed away when they observed the teasing glint in the younger girl's eye and the playful shove given by the man, as they made their way down the cobbled streets of Birmingham.

Tommy and Y/N Shelby were as thick as thieves, there was no doubt about that. The brother and sister loved each other fiercely, and where one of them was found, it was almost certain that the other wouldn't be too far behind. But when they rowed, oh boy, did they row.

It was only a few days ago that the occupants of the Garrison were subjected to their shouting, after Tommy had scared off yet another one of Y/N's dates. As usual, however, the argument had soon blown over.

***

Y/N loved living in Small Heath. It was a shithole, but it was her shithole, so she didn't mind it as much.

To Tommy's surprise, she had turned down the offer of either living with him in Warwickshire or buying her a place of her own in the country. Instead, she had asked her brother if she could move into his old house on Watery Lane, to which he had agreed.

His swaying factor had been that someone would always be close-by if anything happened at the office, and the rest of the family had a place to crash if they needed to.

Y/N, on the other hand, had more emotional reasons for wanting to stay where she grew up. Since training as a nurse for the war, the Shelby girl had got to know the children of Small Heath very well: she had somehow become the go-to person whenever one of them got into a scuffle or had an accident, and always fixed them up with a smile on her face as she listened to their innocent voices babble away. Y/N wanted to see them grow up, and didn't want to abandon them. She also didn't want to leave behind some of the poorer families in Small Heath, who she paid a visit to once a week to check that everyone was as well as could be.

Tommy had had one condition for Y/N's staying in Small Heath by herself – that he walked her to and from work or the Garrison (wherever they were the latest) every day, and the days that he couldn't make it that she would let him get one of the blinders to do the job instead. The Shelby name and his sister's capabilities alone were not enough to settle his worries about her wellbeing.

And this job was what had brought Tommy to Y/N’s house that morning. It had come to Y/N’s attention that her brother seemed to be at his happiest during these walks - and when she said ‘happiest’ she meant that there was often just a slight glimmer of a smile on his face and his eyes looked a touch softer. Sometimes the indicators were bigger, but more often than not this was where the happiness would stop. It was in these moments that Tommy seemed to be at his most human, and they were the favourite part of Y/N’s day.

Apart from today.

The pair navigated the streets with ease, speaking quietly to each other, just as on every other day of the year. Suddenly, however, Y/N stopped still, lips parted slightly in shock. Tommy examined her expression carefully, and after realising (with a sigh of relief) that his sister wasn't scared shitless, followed her line of sight. It landed on a man. A rather scruffy man, who appeared to have done an awful job at trying to make himself look respectable, Tommy thought. The Shelby man knew that this was a stranger to Small Heath, not only by the fact that he had never seen such a distinct person before, but also by the way that he looked at the buildings and the people in the street. Yes, Tommy concluded, that was definitely a look with purpose.

Breaking Tommy away from his thoughts was the delicate hand that grabbed his wrist tightly, causing him to look down at his sister. "Tommy, how do you fancy taking the scenic route to the office today, hmm?" Whilst her voice was light, as if she were simply commenting on the day's weather, the forced smile that was plastered on her face was the one that she used at parties when she wanted to get away from someone (usually when she was being annoyed or bored to death).

Amused by Y/N's desperate desire to get away, he resisted her impatient pull on his arm towards a side street. "What's wrong with this way, Y/N/N? This is the route we take every day, I'm not going about changing it now." Tommy's voice was teasing as he casually lit a cigarette.

"Yes, yes, Tom, I know you're a stickler for routine – but for once in your fucking life can you do as I say?"

"Ah, well I was considering it, but since you've been so rude to me..."

The man was getting closer.

"Please, Tommy, I'll do anything." Y/N hated that she was having to practically beg her brother, but the situation was one that she definitely wanted to avoid. She even slipped her hand down to grasp his tightly for emotional effect, something that she hadn't done for years (but, oh, how she relished that warm and safe feeling that it brought with it).

Surprised at his sister's actions and looking into her wide eyes, he was about to relent and let her drag him down the side streets to the office. But it was too late.

"NURSE SHELBY!" The man's deep voice bellowed down the street, causing a few people to look towards them.

"Fucking hell," Y/N mumbled under her breath, giving Tommy's hand a tight squeeze and then letting go, before addressing the man. "Henry. What a surprise! What brings you to Birmingham?"

"Well, you, of course!"

Y/N cringed internally as she saw Tommy's eyebrows shoot up at this statement. Tommy cleared his throat. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Y/N?"

Sending a quick death glare up to her brother out of the corner of her eye, the woman replied with strained politeness: "My apologies. Henry, this is my brother, Thomas Shelby. Tommy, this is Henry Mathers, one of my former patients."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Henry shook Tommy's hand, the latter trying his hardest not to grimace at the thick layer of sweat coating the other man's palm.

"Likewise, Mr Mathers. You met my sister in France, then?"

"Yes, sir. We said that if we both made it out of there alive, we'd go for a drink. Ever since I got back I've been searching for her and here I am! And, oh, it was worth the wait to see that face again."

Tommy could no longer suppress the smirk threatening to escape as he looked between Henry's longing gaze and Y/N's very clearly faked happiness crossed with panic.

"Well, my sister is a woman of her word, Mr Mathers, and I'm sure she'd be delighted to be able to catch up with you after all these years." Tommy decided to pause for dramatic effect. "Perhaps you can go to the Garrison tonight, Y/N? We've had it done up recently, it's just around this corner here" Tommy added, pointing in the direction of the pub.

"Oh, that sounds perfect! I shall meet you there at eight o'clock, Miss Shelby." Before Y/N could get a word in edgeways, Henry was removing his bowler hat and bowing his balding head. "Good day to you, Miss Shelby, Mr Shelby." The man continued to walk down the street, a definite spring now in his step.

As soon as he was far enough away, Y/N sent a firm punch to her brother’s stomach. “What the actual fuck, Tommy?” She started to storm down the street quickly, leaving Tommy hurrying after her. “One minute you’re chasing men away from me, and next you’re setting me up on dates with people you don’t know the first thing about!”

“You’re the one who agreed to go for a drink with him in the first place, don’t go blaming me.”

“He had a lot of drugs in his system when he asked, I didn’t think he’d actually remember it.” Catching her brother’s amused smile at her excuse, she continued. “He was on the verge of death, I wasn’t exactly going to say no, was I?”

“Oh, so he fought to stay alive just for you then, eh? Sounds like a keeper to me, Y/N/N.”

“You’re an arse, Thomas Shelby. A complete and utter arse.”

***

Y/N remained in a foul mood with Tommy for the rest of the day, not that this surprised him.

When the hands of the clock hit ten to eight exactly, however, he still knocked on his sister's door to take her to the Garrison himself.

Tommy couldn't help the chuckle that fell from his lips at the sight of Y/N, clad in a beaded black dress, scowling as she stepped out of the house.

"You do know that you're not going to a funeral tonight?"

"Oh, it's my bloody funeral, alright. Might be his too, if he reverts back to his old ways." Y/N started playing with her hands as they made their way towards the pub, something that she'd done since she was little when she was nervous.

Tommy noticed it immediately, eyebrows furrowing slightly in concern as he recalled Y/N's desperation to avoid Henry. It hadn’t really hit him properly in the moment how desperate she had been. But before he could begin to question what the man's 'old ways' were, his sister spoke again.

"But you were right about one thing earlier, Tommy. I did still agree to go out with Henry, no matter what state he was in when he asked. It would be rude of me not to go through with it and at least act like I'm having a nice time, seeing as he's come all this way for it. So," her voice became sterner, "I'm going to smile my way through the evening, and you'd better not start any fights - do you understand me?"

The older of the two Shelbys sighed, a feeling of dread beginning to build up inside of him. "I can get you out of this if you -"

"No, Tommy." An angry fire was dancing in the young woman's eyes. "You don't get to land me in this situation and then try to snap your fingers and revert it. That's not how this works. This is happening, no thanks to you..." The last part was mumbled under her breath as she pushed the heavy pub doors open.

Tommy hadn't wanted to lose his sister in the same way that he had lost Ada at the beginning – not giving her enough freedom, especially given their argument the other day. So, when a man came along who she had agreed to go for a drink with previously, he had decided (for once) to take the light-hearted and supportive approach, a far cry from the overprotective older brother that he had been since the moment that Y/N had been born.

He was starting to regret even considering changing his ways, and the night had barely begun...

***

From his seat at an ordinary table at the Garrison, Tommy looked at the occupants at the bar once again, probably for about the fifth time in the past two minutes. He had decided not to retreat into the snug, as he usually did, wanting to keep a close eye on Y/N and Henry.

So far, the evening had gone surprisingly well - it was far better than any of Tommy’s imaginings after his discussion with his sister previously. He had heard his sister’s gentle laugh ringing across the room on multiple occasions (and he could tell that it was genuine), and the pair had barely stopped talking.

Maybe this would prove to be a success, Tommy had mused.

One thing that the man’s careful eye had picked up on, however, was how many whiskeys Henry had thrown back. Tommy had concluded that no matter how well things appeared to be going now, he wasn't leaving just yet.

And he was glad he didn't – for just 15 minutes later, as the alcohol began to kick in to Henry's system, things began to go downhill.

It started with the occasional nervous laugh, or a smile that didn’t quite reach his sister's eyes as she avoided Henry's intense gaze. This grew more frequent as Henry continued to drink, and Y/N began playing with her hands once again as well.

The head of the Shelby family was an inch away from leaping out of his seat when he saw Henry leaning over to whisper in Y/N's ear, and her nose crinkled in disgust at the stench of alcohol on his breath. After a few subtle attempts, she finally managed to push him away from her, and Tommy relaxed slightly as he heard her state a firm "No." His sister was always a lot tougher than he thought.

But her efforts were undermined as Henry grabbed her left hand, holding it as if he were about to kiss her knuckles. However his grip was far too firm for that. Ripping her hand out of his, Y/N grabbed her bag hurriedly and started to get off her seat, and Tommy stood up himself.

The final straw for the protective brother was when he witnessed Y/N freeze completely as Henry rested a hand on her knee to stop her from leaving. Fists clenched as he tried to contain his anger, remembering his sister's warning about not starting any fights, Tommy marched over to the bar, his lie for getting her out of there already prepared.

"Y/N, something urgent has come up, we need to call a family meeting – now." Tommy extended a hand to his sister, which she gratefully took as he helped her get down off the barstool and pulled her safely to his side. "Would you get my things from the back room, I've just got something to sort out quickly before we go. I'll see you outside."

Y/N nodded, knowing exactly what Tommy was doing. Shooting her brother a grateful glance, Y/N mumbled a quick "Goodbye" to Henry, and walked off quickly, not wanting to be in the man's company for any longer than necessary.

***

She slipped out of the back door and into the cold night air, relief washing over her. Lighting a cigarette, Y/N waited for her brother, wondering how he had got to her so quickly – she hadn't seen him once after meeting up with Henry.

A few minutes later, Tommy emerged and went straight to Y/N. "You alright?" His thick Brummie accent comforting her as he, too, lit a cigarette.

Y/N sent him a soft smile as she replied, "I'm fine, Tom. I'm assuming there isn't actually an emergency?" Her voice was laced with amusement.

"Nope."

The siblings stayed there for a while, smoking and listening to the sounds of the pub behind them. Y/N vaguely wondered whether Henry would find them, but looking up at her brother's solid presence beside her, she felt any worries lift off her shoulders.

Out of the blue, Tommy threw his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out, turning to Y/N. "Come on. Do you fancy going for a walk?"

"Yeah, I need to clear my head." Tommy started to move towards the street. "Oi! I'm finishing this first, you know I hate smoking and walking at the same time!"

***

"You gonna tell me what happened tonight then, eh?"

The pair didn't know how long they had been wandering the streets of Small Heath for, but Tommy's curiosity had finally gotten the better of him.

Y/N sighed, her eyes focused on the cobblestones beneath her. "When Henry first came to us, back in France, he'd been caught up in an explosion. After the doctors had seen him, he was still very drugged up and the chances of him surviving were about fifty-fifty. We had to keep administering him the drugs for a few days, because he was in so much pain. He kept calling me over, wanting to talk to me no matter how busy I was – said that he needed a 'pretty girl' like me to keep him company. I humoured him. But then he started saying things like we were 'meant to be together', 'soulmates' even."

Y/N paused, thinking hard. "He lied when he showed up today: he said that he asked me out for a drink, but he didn't. What Henry actually said was, and I quote, 'If we both survive this fucking war, I'm going to find you and marry you.' I had no clue what to say. His chances of making it out of the hospital alive, never mind the war, weren't improving. So I said something like 'Well, I hope you buy me a drink first.' I ran off after that, and another one of the nurses took over his care. I had no clue that he was still alive until today.

"At the pub tonight, I will admit that I did enjoy catching up with him. For someone who I believed to be a lost cause all those years ago, it was nice to hear that he'd actually done something with his life. But then he brought up getting married again, insisting that I was still 'the one' for him and that it was the thought of me that kept him going until the end of the war. He just kept repeating over and over again that he was going to marry me and that we'd be so happy together.

"But just before you came over, he was getting rather forceful about it. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see your stupid face." She laughed a little, noticing her brother's annoyed (yet secretly amused) glare as they sat down next to the Cut.

"It wasn't him that freaked me out, necessarily - it was the thought of marriage. I'm not ready yet, Tom, and to be honest I don't know if I ever will be, no matter how many boys I try and date. I'm terrified of being tied down to someone and losing my independence. I enjoy being by myself too much – and with you lot, I suppose." Y/N nudged her brother's arm.

A comfortable silence settled between the siblings, and Y/N let it sit there, wanting to give Tommy the time to process everything that she had said in her little monologue.

Happiness was one emotion that the elder Shelby didn't expect to feel after hearing his sister's answer to his question. And yet it coursed through his every vein, accompanied by a sort of relief. Tommy wanted his sister to find contentment and peace more than anything; even though he hated the thought of her marrying, of her having someone else to turn to that wasn't him, a few years ago Tommy had come to accept that one day Y/N would want to move on from him and the family. Maybe even start her own family. This acceptance, however, hadn't been able to stop him from deterring nearly any man who came her way. In his mind, anyone that couldn't stand up to Tommy definitely wouldn't be able to deal with his youngest sister, and that they simply weren't good enough for her.

To hear, though, that Y/N had no intention of leaving him yet, was music to his ears. It was also a comfort to know that she was waiting for the right person to get serious with – Tommy felt as though he wouldn't have to spend as much time hunting down every single potential suitor. Instead, he could spend the time with his beloved, if annoying, little sister.

But this was Tommy Shelby, and he would never communicate such vast amounts of emotion verbally. "So I'm stuck with you for a bit longer then?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Y/N couldn't help the grin that spread across her face, understanding the exact meaning behind her brother's words. It widened as she heard Tommy chuckling slightly in response, a sound that she had nearly forgotten. "What did you do with Henry? After I left the pub?"

Tommy cleared his throat, uncomfortably. "He won't be proposing to you again any time soon, don't you worry, sweetheart."

"Tommy, I thought I said - "

"No fighting, I know. And I did as you said, I didn't start any tonight." He looked, almost sheepishly, over at Y/N, who had adopted Polly's stern expression. "I told him that if I saw him again in our city, I'd cut him myself, and the same applies for if he tries to contact you again."

The younger Shelby sighed and rolled her eyes, fondly. "Well, I can't complain about that, can I?" Y/N heard the bells of the church chime, telling her that it was midnight. She turned to Tommy. "Home?"

He nodded. "Home," and he knew exactly where that was tonight. Tommy stood up and brushed the dirt off of his trousers, whilst Y/N got up too. They were about to set off when Tommy held his hand out to his sister, just like he used to when they were younger. Y/N instinctively took it, a feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body. She felt loved, and knew for certain that this love was the only one that she needed at the moment.

Tommy didn't let go until they reached the front door, comforted in the knowledge that Y/N was going to remain his little girl for a while longer yet.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sister #shelby sis #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby!reader #shelby!sister

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genesisrose74 · 3 years

Text

Taking on Tokyo

A/n: Hinata brainrot go brrrrrr — my heart has especially burned for timeskip! Shoyo recently, as the anime gets ever closer to that time, so be forewarned that there’s some manga spoilers concerning the post-timeskip situation (duh) in here since I’ll be focusing on the Tokyo Olympics Arc 😌 God I love this man so much — hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Hinata Shoyo x Olympian! Reader

Words: 2785

*****

The moments after one of the most significant events of your life was, quite literally, a blur. It only occurred to you that your earlier pass to the eighteen yard box of Yokohama stadium was successful after a horde of bodies swarmed your space, cheering and yelling words that could just barely be heard over the sound of screaming stadium fans.

The U.S. National Soccer team managed to take the lead against Canada, as one of the team’s star forwards volleyed a crossed ball into the back corner of the net. What more, it happened with just three minutes left into the game. And it was your cross that helped clinch the opportunity.

You had unceremoniously tripped over your own two feet after sending the ball sailing parallel to the end line, hence the initial uncertainty as to the outcome. But as ecstatic faces that glimmered with sweat commended you in a dog pile, you had soon come to your senses, ones screaming that winning the Olympic finals was at last in your team’s clutches.

For those last six minutes of the match (three more excruciating minutes added in extra time), your mind and body had buzzed with excited adrenaline that was eventually expended, until that final whistle blew loud in your ears and a gold medal fell proudly around your neck. It was a blur of cheering, crying, and a hell of a lot of random singing on the way back to the Village - overall a crazy exciting way to spend your first Olympic Games.

Yet, it felt as if nothing in that series of events compared to the nerves that sparked throughout your body at the thought of getting to see a familiar face soon thereafter.

Shoyo Hinata hadn’t called or texted you a single time after acquiring that gold medal, one that now sat contentedly on the nightstand of your room. It had been over 20 hours since you’d collapsed into the comfortable embrace of your temporary bed, simply exhausted from the previous day’s events and the celebrations that ensued.

It had been much, much longer since you’d seen the man in question in person. Nearly coming up on two and a half years at this point, if your incessant counting proved correct.

Scarce visits to Brazil and Japan, paired with an insurmountable number of phone calls, facetimes, and texts, had been the only threads connecting yourself and Shoyo for some time. While you were both set on maintaining each others’ company in any way possible, sustaining a relationship had not been the easiest considering your vastly different environments. After your adoring boyfriend of two years left for Rio, you were soon thereafter offered the ability to study and train in the U.S., where your birth country provided a route to join their Olympic soccer team.

In many ways, the opportunity was simultaneously the greatest blessing and a looming obligation. Japan was your home after all, and Shoyo was due to return there in time. But the promising volleyball athlete knew you’d been yearning for an opportunity as big as the international stage (similar to his own dreams), and he quickly assured that he could wait for you as long as needed.

And now, after years of training and being away from the other half of your heart, you’d finally made it back home with all your aspirations secured. Home, in both the literal and figurative sense, was within your reach.

Yet the tangerine-haired dummy that earned the latter definition of the word had yet to contact you, even after that spectacular win you’d been working towards for the last few years apart. Knowing him, he’d probably gotten too hyper for his own game in the following days and the thought slipped his mind, but you still couldn’t help the childish pout that settled on your features.

“You dork,” came your lighthearted sigh, checking your phone for any last minute notifications as the hotel elevator opened to the first floor. Tucking away the device after finding nothing new, you waved to a few teammates in the Village lounge as they chatted with other athletes - many of whom offered friendly nods of greeting as you walked by.

A number of your building’s residents sat spread around the large space of the bottom floor, splayed on couch cushions and sitting on stools as they waited for the evening shuttles - just world-class athletes wanting to get their hands on dinner as quickly as possible, with yourself among them. It should have been laughable with how casual it all was.

The situation would have spurred a lighthearted chuckle from your throat if you weren’t so caught up in your daydreams, ones that were soon to come true within the next day.

You shook your head with a smile as you opened the front doors, letting the calming breeze of Tokyo’s air wash over you. A small handful of fellow athletes had the same appreciation for the beautiful night, it seemed, as they leaned against the building’s walls in wait for the shuttles’ arrival. You took up a spacious spot against one of the large windows and crouched down on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath of atmosphere in a lame attempt to settle your nervous excitement.

‘You’re so enamored that Christine Sinclair could start a conversation with you and you’d not even bat an eye,’ one of your teammates had claimed the previous night, watching with amused eyes as you’d intently scanned your message notifications on the ride back to the Village. You had blushed profusely and nestled your face against your hands in a flustered response. ‘Is it really that noticeable?’

It was most definitely that noticeable — a fact that you came to terms with after mentally determining how many minutes longer it’d be before you could see Hinata in person again. His next volleyball game of the Olympic tournament was set for Ariake Arena at 2:00 pm the next afternoon, and it was there that you’d finally be reunited.

Was it a little cheesy that you’d been planning out the moment as if it were a blockbuster romance movie scene? Maybe, but you couldn’t help yourself.

It was out of unconscious instinct that you unlocked your phone to open social media, looking for something to pass the time before the dinner shuttles arrived. A congratulatory hashtag glowed atop your trending page, and you felt a surge of pride with the knowledge that it was in commendation of your team’s gold medal win from yesterday. You took a moment to silently scroll through the numerous tweets from notable celebrities, sports channels, and other fans, all of which highlighted the dreamlike moment you’d experienced firsthand.

A familiar username caught your eye as you flicked through the hashtag, face softening as Bokuto’s most recent tweet popped up on the screen. It was a retweet of a professionally taken picture, with you surrounded by some of your teammates, all adorning face-splitting grins as golden confetti rained from the air.

“See #15?? That’s one of my best friends right there!!! Congrats on gold 🥳💛 well deserved!”

You smiled at the sweet message and liked the tweet, opting to comment an assortment of hearts and well wishes for his performance the next day in the responses. Even on Team Japan, Bokuto couldn’t help but unabashedly support your achievements whenever they arose.

“Looking at the trending page for your win?”

You nodded, still gazing down at your screen. “It’s pretty surreal to look at, but really sweet to see the messages.”

“I would hope they’re all nice messages, since you all put so much time and effort into getting that medal.”

The air was silent again for a second, the only noise being your hum of agreement and the sound of cars from the nearby road.

And then the familiarity of his voice registered, hitting you smack in the face like an avalanche.

Your head whipped to the left to find a standing figure, dressed in athletic sweats and a Team Japan windbreaker that suited him well. His hands were large and tanned, as one sat perched on his hip in a teasingly expectant manner, and tangerine-colored hair appeared mussed and fluffy in your peripheral vision like you’d always remembered. As if to top it all off, a blinding smile reflected the male’s clear amusement with the situation as you took him in with shocked eyes.

“Come here often?” he inquired, tone airy.

Shoyo opened his arms wide as you scrambled up to greet him, a surprised laugh leaving his lips when you jumped into them without hesitation. Strong, toned limbs easily wrapped around the back of your waist and held you tightly to his body, one that radiated warmth and the uncanny smell of citrus fruit when you breathed in. Despite the happiness that exploded within you at his sudden appearance, you fought an urge to start crying on the spot.

“I missed you so much, Shoyo,” you murmured against his chest, and he simply held you taught in response. “So, so much.”

“I missed you too, angel,” he replied, trailing a hand through your hair with tenderness, and the words felt so perfect in your ears.

The male gave a gorgeous smile when you moved your head back to take him in again, and his overjoyed expression practically melted your heart in an instant. Before even realizing it yourself, you’d grabbed Hinata by the jacket collar and brought his lips to yours, which your boyfriend answered with passionate enthusiasm as he cupped the side of your face. A satisfied grin painted his expression clear as day when you tried to bring him impossibly closer by the back of his neck, the athlete evidently bemused by your boldness in the moment.

God, you’d missed kissing him and his beautiful face so damn bad.

“Congratulations on getting gold, by the way,” he managed to sputter against your lips after a moment, at which your face warmed significantly.

“Thank you,” you chuckled, “and hopefully I can say the same for you pretty soon.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you cheer me on.”

“And I’m very excited to watch you in action.”

You both laughed, still holding onto one another as if the other would disappear if they let go - and slowly becoming aware that the current scene was likely being observed by other athletes as they stood outside. The latter bit of information didn’t hold much weight, though, and Hinata placed a soft kiss to your nose through his giggles like the blossoming romantic he was.

“You headed to dinner soon?” he asked, at which you nodded affirmatively.

“Come with me to eat?” came your subtle plea, yearning to spend a bit more time with him.

Hinata let out a small sigh. “I would, but we’ve got a team meeting pretty soon for tomorrow’s match. I just went out for a jog beforehand.”

A half-frown befell your expression for a split second, before it was quickly and easily dissipated by a flurry of fleeting kisses to your jawline that prompted a fit of your own giggling.

“Hey now, I’m all yours as soon as the tournament ends tomorrow evening,” Shoyo assured, and it was clear from his earnest tone that he was completely serious. “Anything you want, we’ll do.”

The thought of getting to spend a full day with him again made your mind buzz, grasp on his windbreaker’s fabric tightening in the midst of your giddy excitement. “And the next day?”

“And as many days after that, if you’d allow me to take some of your time.”

“Well if you say that, I’m going to get greedy.”

His chest reverberated with laughter, a sound you noticed to be slightly deeper than the last time you’d heard it in person. The change was subtle, but you found yourself quite fond of the fact for no real reason.

“I don’t mind if you get a little selfish,” he offered back, and the smile that lit up your face was starting to hurt with how long it had been there. The whole scene had you feeling like a high schooler all over again.

“I’ll hold you up on that tomorrow, then.”

With one last hug of the night, one that may or may not have stolen the breath from your lungs, Shoyo mumbled a sweet declaration of ‘I love you’ into the crook of your neck that sent your face alight with heat. You returned the phrase with full sincerity, squeezing him just a bit tighter before having to let go completely.

He gave an enthusiastic wave goodbye as he turned back to the direction of his team’s resident building, which you happily reciprocated before he jogged off.

That stupidly hazy smile of yours didn’t go away for the rest of the night, and your teammates amusedly questioned what could’ve possibly happened to cause such a heightening in your mood.

*****

The outside entrance of Ariake Arena prickled with energy in the middle of the afternoon, crowds packing around the large stadium in hopes of witnessing some of volleyball’s best and brightest players. Of course, Japan was among the few who’d made it past preliminary rounds and their first few elimination matches, a “Monster Generation” of starters living up to their name in practically every aspect. Your athletic beast of a boyfriend ranking among them without a doubt.

You’d already settled into your stadium seat quite early on, placed right beside Shoyo’s similarly skilled younger sister Natsu, who’d yet to arrive due to traffic. You were excited to see her again, as a blossoming volleyball player and quite the matured girl herself. Yet in the time before her appearance, you couldn’t help but get caught up watching warmups from the stadium’s closest row of seats.

Along with the familiar reappearance of the well known Black Jackals teammates, a few other players had surprised you upon walking into the main venue. It was a sight for sore eyes to find Iwaizumi Hajime at the corner of the court as he set up; his aspirations as an athletic trainer landing himself a very fitting spot in helping Team Japan’s very own athletes. Nekoma’s formerly resilient libero, Yaku Morisuke, only added to your astonishment when you noted him warming up on the sidelines. Shoyo hadn’t mentioned every one of the team members you would have recognized, it seemed.

What really grabbed your attention, however, was none other than said player who donned a very reminiscent number ten on his jersey. Atsumu and Kageyama had been switching off setting to the hitting lineup every handful of rounds, yet it seemed like the difference in setter didn’t impact the accurate powers put behind Hinata’s attacks.

Your infatuation was only fueled by the fact that the ginger had spotted you earlier when stretching, and each time he got back in line after a successful hit, he would offer you a teasingly loving gesture in one way or another.

And damn, was he cute.

After a brief warmup prior to the main crowd’s entrance into the massive space, Hinata couldn’t help but find himself gravitating towards your seat. You stifled a laugh when he finally made his way over, water bottle in hand and only a couple meters’ distance from your place in the stands as he sported an awfully smug smile.

“How did I look out there?” he inquired. “Was it a nice view?”

Despite the flustered embarrassment that flooded through your veins with his less-than-subtle flirtations, you retorted in a similar tone. “You looked really hot to me.”

The poor guy nearly choked on his water with your words, prompting you to bark out a laugh. “W-what?”

“You seemed to be on fire, I mean,” you joked. “Definitely game ready.”

Shoyo spluttered for a moment before regaining his composure, locking eyes with you as amber irises gleamed with his usual pre-game determination once more.

“You’re a minx,” he stated, mouth quirking into a lazy smile as he leaned forward. “Still down for dinner tonight though?”

You rolled your eyes jokingly. “Of course.”

“Perfect.”

Shoyo emphatically blew a kiss in your direction, which you pretended to catch and press against your heart. “Good luck, baby!” You called out. “I love you!”

“Love you too!” he grinned, turning towards the rest of his team as they began to form a huddle. You couldn’t help but shake your head with a smile at the giddy excitement that bubbled in your chest, all because of that ginger haired, elite volleyball Olympian standing over on the other side of the court. Your Shoyo, who seemed to shine brighter than a new gold medal in your eyes.

The joyous welcome back in more ways than one was a fantastic way to kick off your return to Japan, that was for sure.

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nintendousimp · 3 years

Text

Train of Thought...

Part:1 Getting Caught

Master 👉Next

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader, Miya Atsumux Reader.

Character: Gender Neutral! or I want to everyone to feel comfortable so any pronouns welcomed for this story.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Some angst and colorful language, mentions of cheating and getting caught in the action, mentions of also thinking to forgive unfaithful partner, some grammar errors 😅 ( I need to emphasize this by saying that English is not my first language and although my English is great I still have a lot of trouble so constructive criticism is welcomed 🥰)

Word Count: 2k

Released date: January 19th 2021

I feel like I need to emphasize that all of the characters in this story are aged up! I’m not comfortable with talking about sexual topics if the characters are still in high school and are underage so,this is a timeskip!😅

Before we go any further into the story, I plan to post part 2 of this! Part 2 will take me a bit longer to post due to personal matters but it will be posted!

Enjoy my first ever Haikyuu x Reader Fic!!!

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You’ve been working late into the night for the past few months so he must’ve thought that this would be your same routine from your previous nights. He's always been a careful person. He knows you have your location on. He always knows where you are but not just for your safety but to also bring her over.

He knows this is wrong. He loves you and knows he could've talked to you about maybe spending less time at work and maybe make a bit more time for him. Atsumu knows that your work is important and he's not gonna take advantage of you like that, especially when you come home from work tired, and with his volleyball schedule and his career you guys barely got to spend time with each other.

He wants to stop this but his need never stops. He knows what he has with her is just something done out of lust and that’s it. Atsumu only wants her around just to make his cock feel good and that’s it. He's already made it very clear he does not plan to leave you and to not get any crazy ideas.

He thought that tonight would be just like any other. He couldn’t have known that you were on your way home. He couldn’t have possibly remembered that today of all days was the release day of your book that you've put months of work into. Who knew that by mistake you left your phone at the office. All he knew at that moment was that your best friend's pussy takes him so well.

As you were driving your way home all you could think about is to hug your husband and yell to the world that you've finally finished your first written work! You felt such accomplishment that this book that you've put all your heart, sweat, and tears into was finally released! So many people believed in your dream but you felt you really couldn’t have done it without the love and support from your husband.

There have been many times where you felt like you haven't been given Atsumu much attention. You've been working long hours and at times late into the night to get this book out before the deadline you've been given. All those hours of hard work you felt paid off, now all that’s left to do is celebrate and who to celebrate better than your husband. After all, he's the inspiration behind your book.

You get out of your car making your way towards the entrance of your house. You notice a car that you've seen before but you can't remember where, so you just brush it off and make your way to the door. As you're unlocking the main entrance door, you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The house is dark and there's no one in the living area, I mean what did you expect its one in the morning. You were going about your routine trying to not wake Atsumu up when you hear some strange noises coming from your shared master.

As you're approaching the hallway that leads to your room, you've noticed the noises are starting to sound a lot more like sexual moans. Your first thought would've been that Atsumu might've fallen asleep while watching porn, and you'd believe that. But these moans sounded too real to be coming from the tv in your shared bedroom. You can see from the small gap underneath the door that the lights are still on.

You're getting ready to enter your room when you notice that the door is slightly open. If only someone were to prepare you for what you were about to see. As you enter the room you see what no woman ever wants to go through. Your husband Atsumu on top of another woman.

"I can never see myself with anyone that wasn’t my husband," you said.

Who would’ve thought that my marriage was falling apart… not me right?

Have I been so oblivious this whole time?

How long has this been going on? The question I proceeded to ask myself...

How did I not see this coming?

But now that you saw everything with your own eyes, you realized you’ve put all the pieces to a puzzle you didn’t even know you were solving.

Today was publishing day and you were gonna surprise Tsumu by coming home after the book release, you would have called but your phone may have been misplaced somewhere in your office. You didn’t have time to go back to the office, you’ve been missing Tsumu a lot. But the surprise you got when you entered your shared bedroom and watched as your husband was on top of another woman was not something you ever expected to happen.

As you stood there watching your husband fuck another woman and not just any woman but your best friend all you could think about was, Atsumu the man that promised to be with you for the rest of your life was in your bed fucking your best friend. You want to be angry, you want to run and scream at them, you want to ask why they did it. Not that any explanation would fix anything, you just couldn’t say anything. As you stood there for what felt like a lifetime. Did you lose your train of thought? Did you forget how to talk?

He finally notices that you’ve been standing there. He panics and gets off your best friend as he tries making his way towards you. All you could think to do at that moment was to just close the door and run out of the house towards your car and make your way out of there. You started driving with no destination in mind, you just wanted to be anywhere away from this bomb. As you're driving, you end up taking the route that leads you to Akaashi’s place. You get out of the car and make your way towards his door.

It’s like you came here out of instinct.

How can you not when you guys have been working on this project for the past several months. He’s a great editor and a great friend too! He appreciates your hard work! You remember when you told him that you wanted to give writing another try and had an idea for a book he immediately offered his services as an editor. He’s always offered his help to you. Even goes out of his way to help you research some titles or genres that you could find interest in writing. He’s a great guy and you’ve grown very close to him.

Now you’re at Keijis place late in the hours of the night. You decided that you couldn’t do this by yourself so you knock on his door.

“Y/N are you alright, What are you doing out so late?” He asks.

You shake your head no. How were you gonna tell Akaashi your world was falling apart. He’s your editor, he shouldn’t need to know that your husband just cheated on you with your best friend.

“Would you like to come in? We can talk about whatever is troubling you?”

He doesn’t give you a second to answer before he grabs your hand and guides you to the living room. He has you sit on his sofa while he makes you both some tea. Some time has passed since you arrived at Akaashi’s, you’re telling him everything that happened an hour prior to being there. Akaashi is tracing small circles on your back. He tells you that this wasn’t your fault and you're not one to blame here and that

“Hey Y/N?”

“Did you say something Keiji?” Y/N says looking up from his shoulder. He can tell they’ve been crying. Akaashi hated seeing them like this. These past several months, he got to know Y/N as a very kind and goal-minded person. He saw someone who only strived to make her and other’s visions come to reality. The months Akaashi spent with Y/N were by far the best few months of his life. He would never tell Y/N that.t He hates that the book is done because now they won’t get to spend as much time together as they used to.

The months he’s been with her he got to spend a lot of time getting to know her world. He observed the way she would get when she had writer’s block. The number of times he’s watched her get frustrated at how she didn’t like the ending of a chapter for the book. He saw how countless nights she felt helpless and wanted to quit. She would fall into a negative state where she convinced herself she wasn’t a good writer. He also saw the nights where she would vent to him about Atsumu becoming distant once again. NIghts where they would drown themselves with work just so they didn’t think about crying.

He saw all of that. Nights where y/n needed Atsumu. Late nights where he was fucking his wife’s best friend.

“What’s your next move?” Akaashi asked.

“I think the best thing right now is for me to go home and get an explanation”

Your expression is giving regret all over it. How were you gonna go back home and look Atsumu in the face? What more could he explain that you don’t already know? You keep going back and forth between blaming yourself more than blaming him. You want to put this in your head as if it was your fault. But you know deep down that if Atsumu really loves you like he says he does he wouldn’t have cheated. At the end of the day, he cheated on you, not the other way around.

“I think I'm gonna call Yachi and see if she’s okay with me spending a few nights at her place just until I figure out what I’m gonna do. In the meantime, I gotta get back home.”

You sigh, you're getting ready to get up when Akaashi takes a hold of your hand

“Wait Before you go, I have a suggestion for tonight if you’d like to hear”

Akaashi doesn’t want you going alone but he also feels as if he’s overstepping his boundaries. He knows this is none of his business but why does he feel like it is?

“How about we go get some of your things and you spend the night here?”

It was a nice offer from Keiji, but you already feel like a burden. He’s been so kind as to listen to you, you just don’t wanna cause him any more trouble.

“ I appreciate the offer Keiji but I don’t wanna wrap you up in my troubles.”

“ Y/N you’re no trouble, I just want you to know that you’re more than welcomed to stay here.” Akaashi knew you’d reject his invitation. He knows you’re not the type of person to rely on others' help, you’re a giver not a taker after all.

“Can you promise me if you don’t wanna be there with Atsumu you’ll call me and come here?” Akaashi the overthinker, always worrying about others.

“ I promise I’ll call you Keiji, if anything happens I promise to come back here.” The answer appeases him, he lets your hand go.

“Thank you Y/N Can I walk you out?” You nod and make your way towards the entrance door.

“Thank you for having me over at this time of night..” before you could finish your sentence, you were pulled into Akaashi’s arms.

“You don’t have to thank me Y/N, I’m glad you trust me enough to open up about what happened.”

You don’t know why but his words are making you feel safe. You trust Keiji, he’s not the type of guy to hurt anybody.

You thank Akaashi again as he walks you to your car “ Can I check on you tomorrow?”

You reply with a nod “ See you tomorrow Keiji.”

Both of you say your goodbyes. As you’re leaving Akaashi’s house, you can’t help but feel nervous about the conversation you were about to have with your husband. What was gonna happen with your marriage? Can this be forgiven? Questions that kept plaguing your head. Only one question stuck out more than the others…

Do I wanna divorce Atsumu?

Summary:

L/N F/N a young adult working on their first ever book with the help of editor and friend (Akaashi). Discovers that their husband has been cheating on them for the past few months that they’ve been working nonstop. Heartbroken y/n decides to drown herself in their work. Will they be able to Forgive their cheating husband from his infidelity or will they approach the man who fell in love with them while working on their book?

Characters belong to the Haruichi Furudate.

#haikyuu #akaashixreader #akaashi fanfiction #atsumu x reader #atsumu x female reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu fic #akaashi angst

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