#easie. but the hard part is that if the resident is in the room u have t be paying a lot of attention to making sure they arent getting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

st-kitten · 5 months

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707 pt.3

← previous chapter christmas special

A/N: um... i've got two small special effects for this part, sooooo see if u can use them at the right moment :")

WARNINGS: trauma, implied death by accident, a good cry honestly, violence (intended IM A GIRLS GIRL BUT SOME THINGS ARE OKA-), that shlong, sloppenheimer (kidding: oral sex, both receiving), age gap (newsflash 😒) (reader is obv 20+ and toji is idk 38?)

"can we call y/n? for cake?" asked megumi.

"i'm not sure she wants to see anybody today, kid," replied a distressed toji

"but it's my birthday..."

toji couldn't resist megumi's puppy eyes. but he figured that if there was anyone you'd listen to, it would be him. it was worth a try.

both of them stepped out of their apartment, hearing music coming from your apartment. toji felt his breath returning to his lungs. music meant you were okay. or at least alive. your singing got clearer as the two of them stood outside your door. he tried knocking but it was left unanswered. toji wondered whether it was just a recording playing, so he pressed his ear on the door. no, that's definitely her. open the fucking door, y/n!

all toji had as a sign that you were inside were was you were singing.

[mention: easy on me, by adele, again for the lyrics ft.]

"i know there is hope in these waters..." is she crying?

"but I can't bring myself to swim, when i am drowning in this silence..." your voice croaked in the end. she's definitely crying. what the fuck did i do...

toji looked around the lobby. seeing it empty, he grabbed your doorknob and pressed hard on it, tearing it apart, breaking it. he gave it to megumi. he barged inside your barely lit, dark living room, only to find you sitting on the floor, head against the sofa, looking at the ceiling. broken glasses and torn papers surrounded you as you sang at the top of your lungs, voice overcome with some kind of pain that toji couldn't understand, but just feel.

"you can't deny how hard I've tried i changed who I was to put you both first but now I give up..."

"i was still a child..."

"so go eas-" hearing the door blast open, you stopped, whipping your head in its direction.

you were about to bark at toji when you saw the look on his face. fear... then you saw megumi, holding your doorknob, standing behind his father.

toji saw your grief-stricken face. the haunting melody of whatever heart-wrenching song you were singing still echoed in his ears, reaching out from the walls like a desperate cry for help. your disheveled hair clung to your face, a stark contrast to the carefree spirit that used to reside next door.

"w-what are you d-"

"what happened?"

toji treaded carefully around the broken glass, telling megumi to wait where he stood. he knelt down beside you, pushing away the small shards.

you sat there, too horrified to say anything. why is he here? a small shaky breath left your mouth, the rest bubbling up like lava, ready to erupt.

"i don't know what i did baby, but i'm sorr-" toji's apology went unheard as tears streamed down your face and a cry tore through the air like a wounded animal's howl. it was guttural, unrestrained, and laced with a pain so visceral that toji felt it in his bones. the sound wasn't pretty; it was raw and unfiltered, like the ugly side of life laid bare for anyone in earshot.

without a second thought, toji enveloped you in a tight embrace, pulling your trembling shoulders into him. he sat on the floor next to you, one leg folded down and the other tucked to his chest. he felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine as you sobbed into him.

"it's okay..." was all he could say. even he knew that it wasn't about fixing everything; it was about being there in whatever storm was raining down on you. he looked at megumi, unsure about how his son would take seeing you break down. the child stood a silent witness to all of it, his eyes glistening slightly.

"why is it okay?" you muttered. "for parents to be your first bullies..."

"what... stopped them," you sniffled, "from just listening to me?"

toji held onto every word that came out of your mouth. a part of him was relieved that this wasn't about him.

"i didn't want a fucking cake... i didn't want a cake, i just wanted them..." your breath hitched.

"you spend half of your life raising a child in the cruelest way... your last words to each other end up being an argument and... your last words to me were nothing..."

toji felt a knot in his stomach. he watched megumi leave and go back to their apartment. he was torn between his kid, disturbed on the eve of his birthday and the woman he was cradling, on her birthday...

as the echoes of your cry faded, they left behind a heavy, oppressive silence. only your shaky breath could be heard. he sat beside you, his eyes searching for the right words as you wiped away the tears that had traced down your cheeks.

"birthdays are supposed to be happy, ya know..." he whispered to you, as gently as he could. as if the wrong words would shatter you.

"they're also supposed to be spent with family apparently..." you said, gritting your teeth. toji didn't know what to say... he wanted so desperately to talk to her. but how do you even say something at a time like that?

megumi's small steps echoed in your living room. both of you looked at him. you felt like bawling your eyes out and toji simply smiled at his son.

megumi carried a small plate with a loaf of bread sitting atop, two tiny candles buried in it, their flames flickering in the dark room. he stood in front of you, holding out the plate to you with his tiny hands.

you held the plate, placing your hands on his. you glanced at the clock, which was seconds away from midnight. you blew one candle, covering the other with your palm. and when the clock struck 12, megumi blew the other candle out.

"happy birthday, gumi," you put the plate down and hugged him. he wrapped his tiny hands around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "happy birthday, y/n," he said softly.

hours passed by as you talked to toji about your unforeseen disappearance. megumi had fallen asleep in your lap and you stroked his head. you told him about your 13th birthday, your parents death in a car crash... you left some things off the conversation. oh, how toji felt each word you said. he knew how ruthless families could be. his own was never kind to him. he told you about his scar in return, and how he felt insecure about it.

"it's kinda hot, if you ask me." seemed like you were back to being your normal self.

toji smirked. "i know. you wouldn't stop kissing it last night."

you smacked his chest with the back of your hand. but it brought you two to that conversation. toji wanted it off his chest.

"i like ya."

you looked at him, taking a shallow breath.

"not just 'cause we made out yesterday. i'm the worst person to talk about feelings and shit to, but... i got 'em. for you." toji was done with it. he didn't want to stretch it any further. not after the day you'd had.

you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off, "sit with it for a while. ya don't need to answer me right now."

toji picked megumi up from your lap, carrying him in his arms. he pressed a soft, patient kiss to your lips. "belated happy birthday," he said against your lips, got up and left, leaving a large hole in your door.

[ambient song y/n might vibe to: jeene mein aaye maza, by ankur tiwari]

you wandered aimlessly in the convenience store, picking up things and putting them back where they didn't belong. you circled the whole store thrice until the cashier asked you if something was wrong. paying for cheap beer and rice crackers you didn't even want, you left the store.

you walked home in the evening, head in the clouds. (a cloud shaped like toji)

he liked you. his words hammered in your mind like construction workers at the crack of dawn. girls usually felt giddy after hearing a boy confess to them. the fuck were you feeling? and why was it some kind of diarrhoea? you mind went back to how you'd kissed and how good it felt. there was no doubt that you found him attractive. you liked spending time with him. but did you like him? what even would you do if you did? date him? be his girlfriend? mother to his child? how did one go about dating an older man? if anything, he'd end up with another child.

you walked by a park, watching children playing (mostly falling), building sandcastles in the pit (and falling on them), running around chasing nothing (and falling), scurrying into their parents' arms (guess what).

did you want to be that to megumi? because being with toji meant being with megumi and being responsible for him.

you sat down on the pavement, sipping on beer that tasted like toothpaste, pondering over what kind of life you'd build for yourself. you were not interested in hook up culture. committed relationships were made to sound like life imprisonment sentences. the titles didn't apply to you and especially him. what would being with toji even look like? once your little quinn project comes to an end, what then? would he grab the cash and bolt? would he stay? would he stay anyway?

the more you sat and thought about it, the more things blurred. you thought it best not to overthink it. he did tell you to not rush an answer. but you were not the most patient of all people. the one thing you disliked was how things get awkward every time someone confesses their feelings out of the blue and the other has to be the dealbreaker.

you decided to do the rest of the thinking at home. the city was twinkling with christmas lights and decorations. it was always a wonderful sight to see. it made you want to travel to a quaint countryside only to realise your long lost love for the holiday season and family values as you broke into song about reuniting with your childh-yes, that hallmark movie.

when you entered through the gate to your building, you spotted megumi near the postboxes. a very uncomfortable megumi... in the arms of a woman you'd never seen. she looked rich. fur coat, pradas, sunglasses that covered her whole face like a covid shield. megumi so didn't want to be held like that. your gaze fell on toji, who... drumroll... had the exact same expression as his kid. as you walked in that direction you could hear the conversation.

"he likes me, don't you think?" PLEASE that's what rich people sound like?

"just put him down," toji sighed.

"no, i'm gonna steal him!!!" she giggled, shoving her face into megumi. he flinched and pushed himself away from her.

"aww, he's so playful... toji, why don't you invite me over for a drink?"

megumi wiggled like a worm in her arms, trying to escape her grip. he twisted like a pretzel until she had to put him down. but she held onto his hand tightly. that didn't go unnoticed by toji who was growing angrier every passing minute.

"come on... it'll be fun," she sneered.

"i gotta look after my kid." that was all he said.

"i'm sure he won't mind... right meggy? you'll let daddy and i play for a while, right?" megumi tried to pry her hands off, but she tugged at him harshly.

suddenly, all the diarrhoea made sense. the blur cleared. your eyes narrowed as you observed the audacious scene unfolding before you. something in your head snapped and you took purposeful steps towards her, and offensive gaze locked, devoid of any remorse.

swatting her hand off of megumi's, you put the kid behind you protectively. in a millisecond, your hand swung with conscious thought, as you smashed the beer bottle on her head. the glass shattered on her scalp, cutting through the background noise like a warning shot.

"not. your. kid."

caught between shock and appreciation for your sudden defence, toji covered his curled mouth with his palm. he looked at megumi, who stood behind you, holding the ends of your jacket. the kid looked back at his father, smirking mischievously. toji turned his cackling laughter into an asthmatic cough.

the woman couldn't take a hint even when it hit her in the skull.

"who do you think you are?"

"how dare you hit me? do you know who i am?"

"i'm talking to you!!! hello!!!??"

you let her run her mouth. you weren't interested in what she had to say. you looked down at megumi. you could see the faint red strip that circled his wrist. you knew how manipulative it was to use toji's kid as a means to get to him. you already befell his threat. but you understood it all of a sudden.

the honest urge to protect your kid.

the woman eventually stomped and left, mouthing cuss words at passersby.

"so... care to explain what that was?" asked toji, folding his hands, looking at you with fascination.

"my answer," you said with a smile as you held megumi's little hand, rubbing the back of it with your thumb.

toji smirked proudly.

"what happened here?" asked the building watchman, who heard about the act of violence from others who witnessed it.

"nothing interesting,"

"they're saying you harassed a woman," he was quick to throw an accusing glance at toji.

"nonsense! just some personal drama," you interrupted. "that's the father, this is his son."

"and that's the unholy spirit..." toji mumbled to the guard, earning a death glare from you.

the three of you walked towards the elevator. you handed megumi the rice crackers you bought and he wasted no time in digging in. toji put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer as he whispered in your ear, "what does a fella like me have to do to see you smash another bottle again?"

"flirt with another woman and i'll gladly smash one on your head."

toji's deep chuckle vibrated in your ear.

megumi dragged you inside their house to show you his new sketches. he'd really outdone himself. he'd also made his father hang all the small drawings on the christmas tree they had in their living room. toji was glad that he'd found something to occupy himself with. not that he didn't want to spend time with the kid, but seeing him not get overly attached to a single parent relieved the giant weight on his shoulders.

"mmm! gumi, i have a gift for you."

megumi trotted to you like a puppy, eyes twinkling like stars.

"you're gonna spoil him."

"correct."

you gave him a cd. "i wrote you a song." megumi clutched the cd like a prized trophy. he opened the case and showed his father the cd. you'd chased down your producer's sales guy to put one of megumi's sketches as the cd cover.

"when did you even have time to do this?"

"last night. and today morning."

"you didn't sleep?"

you looked away from him, perfectly expecting a fatherly scolding. instead, toji just chortled. he left megumi to listen to your song on a loop as the two of you went to your apartment. (sorry megs, but this is a toji x y/n)

you closed the door, swearing that the hole where your doorknob used to be was getting bigger by each minute. not a moment later, toji had his arms wrapped around you, his mouth on yours. you dropped the grocery bags on the floor and threw your hands around his neck. bumping into nearly every piece of furniture along the way, you sauntered into your room, lips glued to each other. he kissed you like it was the last thing he could do in the world and you kissed him like it was the first thing you wanted to do before anything else.

"mmm... hold on," toji pulled away momentarily and said, "promise me one thing."

"what?"

"you don't disappear when shit hits the fan. you come talk to me."

you felt guilt churn inside you, recalling how you'd left toji and megumi to wonder what 'they' had done wrong to make you go distant.

you nodded. "i promise."

toji held you in his arms for a while, taking a look at your face. he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you winced.

"ow! careful, i just got my ear pierced."

toji raised his eyebrows. he pushed your hair aside and saw a helix piercing, the edge of your ear pink and slightly swollen.

"that looks like it hurt."

"oh, it did."

"then why'd ya get it?"

"i always get piercings on my birthday."

"why?" toji honestly didn't understand this form of self-harm.

"what can i say, buddy, i love getting stabbed..." you said plainly, backing away and took your shoes off.

toji snorted a laugh at your comment. "masochist."

"aww, big man uses big words now..." you said, keeping your shoes under your bed. toji simply slapped your ass.

"sadist."

"by the way, i added some background noises to our recording. it sounds so good!"

"oh? let's hear it then," said toji, sitting down on your bed. he was glad to see you be your usual confident self. last night had him tensed with worry. even though he wasn't the source of your pain, he couldn't imagine how lonely you must've felt spending your birthday crying as life wickedly toasted to your parent's death, scarring the one day you were supposed to own with pride.

you made him listen to some excerpts, but ended up talking over them anyway, excitedly telling him how smartly you had edited some things. he just watched you with a small smile. whenever you turned to face him, his eyes fell on your piercing. he counted how many you had. nine. marking nine years of an anniversary nobody would want to remember like this. four piercings on each ear and one in your nose. did you really need the pain to validate your broken heart? did it make you feel like you deserved it?

he dismissed those thoughts from his head. it was your decision. and you bore it like an ornament, and not a scar. plus, he now that he fully took your face in, he couldn't deny hot incredibly hot those piercings looked on you. the thought of you sitting through that and showing off your piercings made his stomach flip. seriously, how much more hot could you get?

as if to answer his question, your recording played in his ear, some scene at a party with your characters failing to keep their hands to themselves. his voice blended with yours like the perfect duet. the way you spoke, changing your tone, pitch, hell, even your little laugh to suit your character made him feral. he wanted to hear you more. but not for some recording. he wanted to hear you for himself.

the moment the recording ended, toji pounced on you, grabbing your neck, careful not to hurt your ear as he kissed you roughly. you gasped, but melted on the spot. you liked where this was going anyway. toji moved his lips along yours, nibbling at you mouth. he let you catch a breath, before shoving his tongue inside, only for it to hitch again.

he pushed you into your bed, immediately hovering over you. he let his hands run up and down your legs. you hummed under his touch. he felt you shuffle underneath. he pulled away for a moment to watch you sneak your phone out of the pocket, finger pressed on a red dot.

"you wanna give your fans a show, baby?" he murmured.

"nuh uh, this is for me," you panted.

toji smirked. "gotta make this good then..." he peppered kiss on your neck, sucking on your skin. he could smell that god awful coconut perfume. to ease the weight his humongous body dumped on you, he shoved his knee between your legs, hoisting himself over you properly. you practically moaned in his mouth at the feeling of his knee rubbing against you. you had no idea what to do with your hands, so you just let them stay on your stomach lifelessly.

toji broke the kiss once more, chuckling at the whine that escaped from your mouth.

"so needy..." he growled, taking his shirt off with one hand. your jaw hung open as you took him in. the way he towered you even when sitting on his knees made him seem almost... monstrous.

toji only it thought it fair to get rid of your clothes too. he held your waist and pulled you to him, hoisting you on his lap. he took your jacket off, throwing it on the floor.

"be careful with the shirt. it's vivienne westwood."

"strip then."

slowly, taking the sweet time of your life, you pulled the shirt off, turning it right side up and neatly folded it, placing it at the far end of your bed.

"you done, sweetie?" he cooed in your ear.

"done."

"lovely. put your hands to use." he had you folded under him, back on the bed, kisses getting rougher, wetter, messier. you clawed at his shoulder, back, neck, chest, every part of him that you could touch. he licked a particular spot just under your ear that made you mewl in pleasure. like a vampire, toji bit your neck, causing you to moan softly.

his free hand unclasped your bra and tossed it away.

"would it kill you to not throw my clothes here and there?"

"thought you liked it violent, baby..." he murmured in your ear, biting a hickey on your neck. he kept switching between kissing your lips and sucking at your neck while he played with your tits, squeezing them, pinching them, kneading them like dough. he was right. they did fit in his hands perfectly. he latched his mouth onto one, making you squirm under him.

toji was absorbing your body. he felt bold; bold to take what he wanted from you. well, what he wanted was you. your body, your hips, your mouth, all of it. he wanted to show you just how desirable you were to him.

the hand that roamed your waist slowly trailed down your cargo pants. you didn't even realise when he took them off, but it was good anyway. less is more.

at an agonisingly slow pace, the tips of his fingers teased you over your panties. toji took a look at you, covered in his marks, lips pink and swollen.

he chuckled, "just how many of these stupid panties do you have?"

"I FUCKING KNEW IT. PANTY THIEF!" you smacked his abs.

"they're mine now," toji murmured as back away, spreading your legs apart with his hands, grabbing at your thighs. he kissed your inner thigh languorously making his way down to your wet cunt. he took your panties off, once more putting them back in his pockets. he dipped two of is fingers inside slowly, as if he was learning about your body. he watched your every reaction, every quiver, every hitched breath as he took his time and prepped you for himself. he curled his fingers at an optimal spot and like a cat on heat, you mewled and your legs shut tight around his hand.

"uh uh uh, i need these legs wide open, darling." he knew how much you liked it when he said that. when you didn't spread them, he smacked a hard slap on your hip, causing you to gasp and giggle as you did as directed.

"don't be a brat."

"or what?"

toji didn't retort. instead, he dove straight into your cunt, painting your insides with long strokes with his tongue. he paired it with his forefinger running up and down, inside and out, pushing against your clit. hearing you whimper and pant just made him want to tease you. recording all those dirty audios with you had him gain a mind in the game. like an illusionist, his hands disappeared and he pulled away, making you pine for him.

"toji fushiguro, i will smash a bottle on your head if you ever take your mouth off me like that again..." god, you sounded so sexy.

"ya know... it makes my dick hard when you talk to me like that."

you crunched forward and grabbed his hair, pulling him back to your pussy. toji chuckled, resuming eating you out like a man starved for days.

"oh i bet it does," you said breathlessly, throwing a few more slurred taunts his way. toji extended his free hand and shoved two of his fingers in your mouth.

"put that mouth to use, brat." he groaned in pleasure feeling your tongue swirl around his fingers, sucking them, gently biting them whenever he lapped at your cunt the right away. even with his fingers stuffed in your mouth, he could hear your muffled moans loudly. he sped his pace, slipping his fingers in and out of you, lapping at your core. he felt you clench and he took it as an open invitation to increase the pressure. you let out a long, stretched moan as you gushed all over his chin.

"is this what you ladies call girl dinner?" toji took his fingers out of you, licking them and tasting you, smacking his lips.

you laughed, throwing your head back.

"ugh, shut up."

"make me," you commented, practically waltzing into the man's next plan for you. toji's hand wrapped around your throat as he pulled you up as if you weight nothing. he got off the bed, standing in front of you as you were on all fours.

"gladly," toji slid his pants and boxers down, freeing his hard-as-a-rock girth.

"this isn't fair, toji," you cried at the size of it.

"i know, baby..." he gripped your chin with his fingers, nearly crushing your jaw. you looked up at him and seeing you on your knees for him lit a fire within him.

playfully you licked his wet lip like a kitten...

"cute. but that's not gonna cut it, sweetheart."

"i'll have you know i won the popsicle eating contest in my college..."

toji chuckled, holding his cock out to your face and smacked it against your lips. "gonna keep me waitin'?"

you took his head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, letting the tip run between the faint slit. you bobbed your head a few times, adjusting to his length and width. you'd be grateful to have a jaw left by the time you've sucked him dry. you took his length in your, stroking what you couldn't. you felt his cock twitch and pulsate in your mouth.

"god, you're doing so well..." toji reached forward, accidentally thrusting more of his dick in your mouth, making you whimper. he picked up your phone, which had been recording every lewd sound you made and he held it by his hip. "you sound so... fucking perfect, baby... gagging over my dick like that."

he pushed your hair aside, gripping it tightly as he pushed your head further in, moaning at how good it felt to have you take damn nearly all of him.

"fuck... shit.... s' good" toji let a buffet of grunts and moans spill out of his mouth. first, because he you took him that well, and second because he wanted you to get off to his voice, just like he did to yours. he began thrusting into your mouth faster, feeling his release creeping its way up. had he known how easy it was for him to come just by getting a quick blowjob, he'd have put more work into the foreplay. but fuck, he loved every damn moment of it. how your mouth was wet and warm, how your pointed tongue knew just where to lick, how your cheeks hollowed to pull him in.

"keep going, baby... i'm almost there," he panted, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back, hips moving at a brutal pace. his mind went to you eating a popsicle for some reason and he laughed, paving the way for a guttural moan that rumbled through his mouth as he came into your mouth. you closed your eyes, letting the uncomfortable feeling pass away as you managed to swallow the barrel full of cum he just shot into your mouth.

toji pulled out, feeling euphoric. he was completely obsessed with you. he wanted to take your right there. he wanted to be inside you. fuck, he wanted to see how loud you could get for him.

a knock on your main door and a small voice calling out to toji snapped you back to your senses.

"what a cockblock," toji sighed.

you threw a pillow at him. "that's your adorable birthday boy you're talking about!"

toji changed back into his clothes, refusing to give you your panties back, earning another pillow to his face. he looked at you to make sure you still didn't have second thoughts about him. but there you were, effortlessly moving around the room, picking up the pieces of clothing he'd tossed here and there. he loved how much fun you had doing all these things with him. it made the experience twice as much worth it.

you changed into your pyjamas and led toji out of your bedroom.

"does it say 'juicy' on your ass?" he said, reading the glittery text on your pants.

"ya bet it does," you smacked your own ass, proud of your sense of fashion, no matter how ridiculous it was.

"gonna fuck that ass someday."

"fix my door first." you peeked through the hole in your door, looking at the top of megumi's hair.

you opened the door to see megumi standing in his pyjamas, holding his demon dog, yawning.

"awww, sorry for keeping your dad for so long."

megumi yawned again, nodding.

"she sang a song for me too, you know..." said toji, picking up his sleepy kid, giving you a wink. you kicked his ass, making him stagger out of your house.

"good night."

"good night..." you smiled at the two.

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊

TAGLIST: @kaininety2 @ruixrei @chicken-fifi @mrsfush1guro @szillx @queendessi24 @sillysillygoofygoose @shadowmoonlight0604

#forgive me father for i have sinned #toji fushiguro #dad toji #toji #fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x y/n #megumi #juicy pants

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chosos-mascara · 2 years

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｡˚۰˚☽ K I N K T O B E R D A Y 13 ☽˚۰˚｡

I Hate You - Sanemi Sinazugawa

cw: hate sex, degradation, use of names (slut), mentions of impregnation at the end, creampie

Sanemi and yourself hate each other - but find yourselves in an interesting predicament.

minors+ageless dni. prompt from @sanemisfav - thank you!!

2k words

masterlist

When your crow had flown to you speaking of your next mission, your heart sank. Partnered with the wind pillar, Sanemi Sinazugawa, on a quest to locate, and terminate, a group of demons residing in a village. The reasoning behind the pair of you being summoned, opposed to one hashira, had been the presence of a suspected lower moon or two. Many innocent lives had already been taken so you'd have to act fast, and have to work as a team.

The concept would be easy with any other hashira. Most, if not all, had respected you - you'd of course reciprocated this. Unfortunately, Sanemi had to be one of the only demon slayers you'd genuinely despised. Self centered, and self serving. You hadn't known Sanemi to give a fuck about anyone other than himself - even his own brother had hated him.

Meeting at the scene, the pair of you had located the main sources of the demon's scents, defeating them within a mere few hours. Despite your efforts, there had been a remaining demon you'd yet to find; what was assumed to be lower moon four. She was bound to come out again, but as the sun rose, you'd realised you'd have to remain within the location to defeat her. Sanemi had suggested an inn residing at the edge of the town, near to woodland. You couldn't decline; after a few tiring brawls, maybe rest would be beneficial. Neither of you had feared your upcoming opponent, but rest couldn't hurt, right?

The size of the inn had been the first thing you'd noticed as it reached your plane of view, towering at four or five stories high, a paved pathway winding to screen doors. The forest beside it had looked scenic, and would be a beautiful element if not for the thought of all the bodies you'd found there along the way. The trees had been the perfect canvas to shade the sun, and to breed demons.

When the receptionist had informed you of only one bedroom available, you'd rolled your eyes, heavily sighing in annoyance. "You're sure, there isn't even a chair to sleep on?" You'd questioned, desperation and a little exhaustion getting the better of you. Sharing a room with Sanemi wouldn't be ideal, but acceptable, sharing a bed with Sanemi was a whole other feat. It was hard to fight off the images of him touching you in your sleep, most likely assuming you'd been attracted to him - everyone else appeared to be. His fingers trailing over your body, annoying voice in your ear -

"Y/n." Sanemi spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder. You'd innately jolted at the touch, as if he'd been diseased - though, it was possible he was in your mind. Some form of hysteria, or maybe just a sociopath. "Quit it, this is pathetic." His voice was low enough for only you to hear, lips dangerously close to your ear as he'd put you in your place, hand squeezing over the shoulder he'd been gripping before moving to then back to the flustered receptionist. Sanemi had been a little more respectful than you had, and for that you'd felt deep embarrassment. Thankfully though, the mission would end soon, the pair of you able to part ways.

Reaching the bedroom, Sanemi placed the key within the lock, twisting it and walking in. Your chest tightened more as you took in your surroundings; wooden floor, beige walls, artworks dotted around, and a double bed in the center of the room. Not wanting to make another scene, you swallowed your words, accepting this was actually happening.

"I need to wash." You'd glumly stated, grabbing one of the towels that had been neatly folded and placed on the end of the bed, disappearing to clean yourself up.

Each of you had managed to avoid each other for the next hour you'd spent preparing to sleep, but once it had come to residing under the covers, you'd unfortunately had to endure Sanemi's presence once more. "Can't you just sleep on the floor?" You'd asked, half joking. You crossed your arms over one another, closing your eyes, but the awkward silence that had fell over the room only moments ago was interrupted by the wind pillars loud sigh. "God, y/n! You're such a fucking child!" He'd exclaimed, eyes boring into the side of your head as anger fueled him. "How the fuck are you a hashira, you're so pathetic." Sanemi placed a hand to his forehead, pressing down as if to release the mental pressure he'd had building up.

"I don't trust you." You'd replied, tracing over the ceiling with your eyes as you'd calmly explained your thoughts. "You're probably going to molest me in my sleep." Letting out a sigh once more, Sanemi had been just about done with the conversation. "Trust me, bitch. I don't want to touch your sorry ass." He retorted, head hitting the pillow as he shifted around. Being shoulder to shoulder with him had made you want to scream.

Rolling around, turning once more, attempting to become comfortable. There was no way you'd be able to sleep with the male you'd despised so deeply taking up half of the bed you'd been laying in. You'd lost track of the amount of sighs you'd let out, it was more like you'd been breathless at this point. Your mind wondered, expecting ways in which Sanemi could piss you off more - perhaps he'd begin to snore? Or, roll onto you in his sleep?

Tossing again, you were on your side, facing away from the white haired male. The bed moved under you, however this hadn't been due to your own desperate rotations - this had been from Sanemi.

Your skin crawled as you'd felt him move his body to press against you, arm wrapping over you. Attempting to wiggle out of his grip turned futile; he'd overpowered you in terms of strength. "If you move again, I will hurt you." Sanemi stated, voice low. "Sanemi - let me go!" A scream escaped your lips through attempts at releasing yourself, but your fighting had come to a halt when you'd felt something against you - was he hard?

"What the fuck-" You were cut off as Sanemi's arm moved upward, hand cupping over your mouth. "What were you expecting, rubbing your ass all over my dick like that?"

His demeanor had changed. Instead of the usual bitterness he'd shot at you, his voice was gruff, laced with lust. Your eyes widened as you'd laid helplessly on your side, unable to free yourself against him. "Just go to sleep, y/n." His whisper sounded tired, but you couldn't help thinking about the fact he'd been so bricked up against your ass. The both of you had known that the erection would subside after a short while - it was only friction that had caused it. It hadn't been you, simply the human response to any sort of intimacy.

You couldn't help the fact your body had responded to him, too. Pussy clenching, mind clouded with desire, the sound of his rough voice as he'd resisted your flails.

It was that inate desire that caused you to push your ass back, rolling your hips to grind over him. It had been a quick movement, taking him by surprise, a moan leaving his lips as you'd come into contact with him once more. Heat radiated through your face as you'd processed the groan he'd produced, a fluttering feeling coursing through your chest and encouraging you to do it again. He'd had his composure back this time, so you'd lost the satisfaction of his indecency.

It had been a little disappointing after such a sound had graced your ears. The man you'd hated, coming undone for you? Something that had never occurred to you previously now filled every ounce of your mind, as if a drug. "So, you're a slut as well as an annoying bitch?" Sanemi responded to your movements by relocating his hand to trail over your body, lingering over your crotch before cupping your pussy gently, only a pair of shorts covering your dignity. As Sanemi squeezed you, a breathy moan escaped your lips.

You were turned to lay flat on your back, shorts being thrown to the side and legs spread wide. You'd gasped at the sudden movements, fighting to close your legs, but his hands kept you open. One of his hands moved from gripping the fat on your leg to spread your folds instead, index finger caressing over your clit. You hummed, hips bucking upward to feel more of he touch.

"You're already wet for me, huh?" He laughed, eyes roaming you. "Thought you hated me, angel?" His words left his mouth slowly, in a teasing tone, to match what his fingers had been doing. You closed your eyes, attempting to picture another man's digits as they slipped into you. As much as you'd tried to think of Tengen, or Tomioka, your mind had just come back to Sanemi. None of them had made your heart race like he had, they couldn't compare to thrill of letting someone you'd despised touch you.

Sanemi dipped a finger into you, then two, slickly pushing in and out of you, using his thumb to continue adding pressure to your clit. Your eyes rolled backward, mouth opening to let out a series of incoherent words. It was clear he'd held a decent amount of experience within him; knowing exactly where to move his fingers, bringing you almost instantaneously close to your high. "You're already close?" Sanemi chuckled, curling his fingers. "The man you fucking hate, making you cum on his fingers..." He trailed off, eyes roaming you. "Just one hand too - you're pathetic." Somehow, his words had pushed you over the edge, coaxing the orgasm from you with each pump of his fingers. You'd turned into a mess of moans for him, arousal coating his hand.

Once your climax fizzled out, Sanemi pulled his fingers from your pussy, placing them over your mouth and forcing them in. You looked up at him through your daze, confusion written over glossy eyes. Your body twitched, ragged breath tickling his skin as your mouth closed around his fingers, licking your own fluids from his coarse digits.

"I made you cum, so loud too." Sanemi's smirk remained painted across his cheeks. Through half lidded eyes, you admired the scars he'd gained over the years; never being close enough to notice before.

You weren't able to look for long before his cock was lined up to your pussy, pushing in without warning. You couldn't help but arch your back as you felt him fill you out, sliding to bottom out at your cervix. There hadn't been a chance to see his size, but you'd presumed it had been large in order to stretch you out like he had been.

Sanemi picked up a pace, roughly fucking you, hips slamming into the thighs you'd attempted to wrap around his waist. It was hard for you to keep up with the rhythm he was going, completely abusing your cunt with each aggressive thrust. "I fucking hate you." He breathed, leaning forward to look you in the eye. You could barely keep yours open, though.

"I h-hate you t-too." You mumbled, barely able to form a sentence in the first place. He simply laughed bitterly in response. "I don't think you do, slut. Look at how well you're taking my cock." He was becoming breathless too, and when you'd tightened your walls around him, he'd groaned. Unable to watch him through your blurred vision, you wondered if he was getting close - you weren't sure how much longer you could take this.

"Fuck," He inhaled, eyes rolling back. "I'm gonna get you fucking pregnant," Sanemi's hand grabbed your chin, holding your face in place to look at him. "I'm gonna make you carry my fucking kids." You felt your pussy twitch, moaning. His words rung in your ears, yourself unsure as to why his words had added to the arousal coursing through you.

"Gun' fill you with my cum," His thrusts were sloppier now. "I fucking hate you, g-god."

Sanemi groaned, hips rolling into you as his dick twitched, coming undone and shooting his load into your aching cunt. Pulling away, he left you in a mess on the bed. You caught your breath as Sanemi wiped his dick on the towel you'd used earlier, throwing it to you once done to clean yourself up.

#sanemi x y/n #sanemi x reader #anime smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #smut #kinktober

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wafflesandkruge · 6 months

Text

the steep and thorny way to heaven (zoyalina)

Then she caught sight of someone across the room. Time seemed to freeze for one, perfect second and Alina’s vision tunneled. Zoya Nazyalensky was dressed in a shimmering white dress, her head tilted back in laughter as she lounged on a couch with her legs thrown over Nikolai’s lap. A crown of flowers rested on the dark waves of her hair. The flashing lights caught the glitter dusted on her cheekbones and bare shoulders until she seemed to glow. Alina’s fingers twitched as she imagined the way she’d paint Zoya. Phthalo blue for her eyes. Ivory black for her hair. Caput mortuum for her painted lips. She was a siren song in the dark, a perfect rock for Alina to dash her ship against. Or, a dark academia zoyalina au.

ao3

a/n: happy halloweekend! here's some dark academia zoyalina. if you've been wondering where i am, ya girl has two shiny new degrees and a job. i still write, but mostly just what @generalstarkov tells me to. CHECK OUT HER EDIT FOR THIS FIC HERE OR ELSE also, double release for lrpd for christmas if anyone's still waiting for that 🤞🏼

from what i can scrape together from my (beautifully hand scribbled) notes: alina and mal are new transfers to Morozova University after a scandal the previous year leads to the expansion of the scholarship program for underprivileged students to distract from it. zoya is also a scholarship recipient, though she normally hides it. the school's residence halls are all named after saints, and zoya, alina, genya, and tamar are all suitemates at Magda.

Heavy bass shook the floor in time with Alina’s splitting headache as her gaze slipped over lines of Keats. It was Halloween, and like any self-respecting elite university, that meant a party that would leave half the student body hungover for a week. Alina understood that part, she just didn’t get why the party had to be right under her. She had been planning on catching up while her suitemates were out and the place was finally quiet, but the universe seemed determined to make her fail her midterms. She flipped the page with more force than necessary and reached for the mug of coffee on her desk. It was empty. Damn.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed. Alina sighed and tossed her book onto the bed. Mal had been trying to convince her to go to the party for weeks and honestly, she was surprised he still hadn’t given up. She thumbed open the device.

Malt Shake: stop being a nerd

Malt Shake: u can study tmrw

Malt Shake: david’s here too u can stand awkwardly in the corner together

Alina snorted. A real selling point. Mal’s typing bubble appeared again.

Malt Shake: don’t take what ana kuya said too personally

As usual, he’d hit the nail on the head. Alina scowled as she switched her phone off. That was easy for Mal to say when everything was almost effortless for him. She had to work twice as hard just to keep up. Any less than that, and she could kiss her scholarship goodbye. She didn’t have a trust fund or family business to fall back on like most of the student body. All she had was herself and her wits. And Mal, when he wasn’t busy flirting with the entire student body of the university. Maybe his plan was to marry rich.

But still...she snuck a look at the clock mounted on the wall. It was nearing midnight, and she’d done nothing but catch up to her English readings all day. Maybe Mal was right. A little fun wouldn’t hurt.

A few moments later, she was creeping down the staircase that led to the common room on the ground floor. The music was deafening now, and mixed with the chatter and shouts of dozens of merrymakers, it was almost too much. Only the thought of the pleasant buzz of a drink kept her going as she pushed her way past a pair of zombies making out on the landing. The smell of cheap beer and sweat hung like a cloud over the crowded floor, the lights dimmed just enough that Alina had to squint to make out faces.

As if sensing her stare, Zoya turned her head and their eyes met. A smile curled on her lips, just a touch too sharp to be kind. Alina’s heart skipped a beat. Without looking away, Zoya leaned closer to Nikolai and whispered something into his ear, causing both of them to laugh. The tips of Alina’s ears burned. Even all the way by the staircase, she knew they were talking about her.

“Alina!” Alina tore her gaze away from the picture-perfect couple and the spell was broken. Whatever invisible force had been present released its hold and the clamor of the party came back in full force. She blinked and tried to find the source of the voice.

“Hey.” An arm wrapped around her shoulders as Mal materialized from the throng of moving bodies. He was dressed as a pirate with a low cut shirt that revealed much of his muscular chest and leather pants. A roguish grin completed the ensemble. Alina raised an eyebrow. Maybe he really was trying to marry rich.

“No costume?” Mal asked as began guiding her through the crowd. They parted for him like he was Moses. Alina looked down at her comfy sweater and jeans.

“Overworked scholarship student?” she suggested.

Mal chuckled. Alina snuck another look at her friend. A faint flush was visible on his cheeks, a sure sign he’d already had a few drinks.

“Give me a second,” Mal said as he deposited her by the drinks table in the kitchen. He disappeared into the common room again, and Alina retreated to a spot against the wall and tried not to think about how sticky the floor was. A few students milled around, pouring themselves drinks and chatting. Here, the music was muffled and she could finally hear herself think again.

Mal came back a moment later with a bear-ear headband which he slipped into her hair. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. “There. Clench your fist? Alina the aardvark.”

Alina rolled her eyes. “Not your best work, Malyen.”

“Forgive me, I’m drunk.” He poured some of what Alina recognized to be expensive gin into a plastic cup and pushed it into her hands. “For you, milady.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Alina took a sip and made a face. “Is it just me, or does it taste worse the more expensive it is?”

“You can’t taste the notes of privilege and old money?” Mal teased as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders again. Alina let herself be dragged into the thick of the party. It had been this way since they were children—Mal was the one who made friends easily, Mal was the one who got invited to parties, Mal was the one who was loved by everyone. Alina was just his constant shadow. And she was fine with that. Happy, even.

But as they approached the cluster of couches where Zoya and Nikolai were still sitting, Alina wished she could have just an ounce of Mal’s charisma. Maybe then her suitemate wouldn’t treat her like she was unworthy of the air she breathed. She downed the rest of her drink in three big gulps for some liquid courage.

Mal pulled her down on a couch beside him, his arm lingering around her shoulder even as he started chatting animatedly to David seated on his other side. The chemistry major looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, but Genya had probably personally invited him to the party she’d planned. Alina had never seen him say no to Genya for anything. Then again, not many people said no to Genya.

“Alina! We weren’t expecting you!” Genya exclaimed as she wandered over from a group of Elizaveta girls she’d been talking to. Alina mustered up a smile as the redhead slipped into the seat beside her. The wings of Genya’s fairy costume were digging into her arms, but she found herself not minding too much. Genya was by far the most tolerable of her suitemates.

“Best to keep your expectations of her low,” Zoya interjected, her tone bored. Their suitemate had moved closer to them and now only a few precious feet separated them, a distance that could have easily been bridged by a thrown drink. Alina contemplated it as she turned to Genya.

“How many drinks does it take for her to be pleasant?”

Genya gave a rueful smile. “More than we have on hand, I’m afraid. I’m glad you’re here, though! I was beginning to consider getting Tamar to haul a keg up to our suite so you could have some fun too…”

Alina nodded periodically to let Genya know she was listening, but let her eyes wander. Zoya had already lost interest in the two of them and had drifted back towards Nikolai. His hand was on her knee and her chin was on his shoulder as the two of them talked quietly. They really were a well balanced couple, Alina realized with a sharp pang in her chest. A study in contrasts. Two oppositely charged particles that couldn’t help but stick together.

“...Alina. Earth to Alina!” Genya snapped her fingers impatiently. Alina shook herself out of her thoughts and flashed her friend an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. You were saying?”

“I was saying, if Tamar and Nadia are—”

“Nikolai!” a booming voice interrupted. Dimitri, one of Nikolai’s rowing teammates approached. He wore nothing but a large white sheet twisted around his body in a sloppy toga. His gait was unsteady, a stupider than usual grin spread across his face. Alina shrunk back, wishing she could blend into the couch like a chameleon.

“Connors,” Nikolai greeted, though his smile looked forced. “What’s up?”

“Got something I need to ask you. Away from your little gold digger girlfriend, if you don’t mind.”

A silence fell across their group. Alina’s eyes darted towards her right. Nikolai’s smile had frozen across his face, but Zoya’s eyes were furious. She stood slowly, her heels almost putting her at Dimitri’s eye level. Alina was reminded of a snake coiling itself to strike. A sick feeling sprouted in Alina’s stomach like she was watching an impending car crash but she couldn’t look away.

“What did you say about me?” Zoya asked, her tone cold.

Dimitri laughed loudly, completely oblivious to Zoya’s anger. “It’s a joke, Nazyalensky. Come on, it’s funny.”

“You wouldn’t know funny if it bit you in the ass,” Zoya spat. “Then again, if you throw around some more of daddy’s money–”

Dimitri’s face darkened with rage, but Zoya continued, a familiar sneer curling her lips.

“–I’m sure everyone will find you hilarious.”

The music fell away and all Alina could see was Zoya’s cruel and beautiful face inches away from Dimitri’s, then he was raising his arm and Alina was surging out of her seat, Mal right behind her—

“That’s enough,” Nikolai said quietly, somehow already between the two of them, one hand around Zoya’s waist, the other holding Dimitri’s arm. “You’re drunk, Dimitri.”

There was a clarity to Dimitri’s eyes that suggested that wasn’t the entire truth. But still, he laughed, slapping Nikolai on the shoulder. “I’m wasted, bro. I’m gonna head back.”

As soon as Dimitri lumbered off, hopefully back to his dorm like he’d said, Zoya whirled on Nikolai.

“What the fuck was that?” she demanded.

It was obviously meant to be a private conversation. Alina fidgeted awkwardly, still half out of her seat. She was just glad the standoff had ended somewhat peacefully, though from the way Nikolai and Zoya were whisper-arguing, maybe the peace wouldn’t last long. Beside her, Mal settled back onto the couch, a breath leaving his lips as he began muttering about what an asshole Dimitri was.

“Leave it-”

“Don’t tell me-”

“Zo, please-”

“Just leave me alone,” Zoya hissed as she shoved his arm off of her and stormed off. Alina watched her crown of flowers disappear into the crowd, then turned back to Nikolai. He looked…disappointed. But not sad, and definitely not devastated that his girlfriend has just left him. How on earth could anyone be so casual about Zoya Nazyalensky?

Before she could think it through, Alina took off after Zoya.

---

“Ophelia.”

Zoya looked up sharply. Her eyes were rimmed in red, her makeup smudged. Her features were still drawn tightly in anger and Alina had to resist the urge to take a step back. Zoya was always beautiful, but now, she was devastating, a mosaic of broken glass and jagged edges that could cut just as much as it could mesmerize.

“What?”

“Ophelia. That’s your costume, right?” Alina took a step into the room, then froze expecting some kind of land mine to go off. Zoya’s room was off-limits. Zoya was off-limits. But the other girl only nodded slightly and took another swig from the bottle she was holding. Alina took that as an invitation to move further inside. Like its occupant, the room was meticulously put together. There wasn’t much in terms of personal effects, but everything else was neatly arranged in its place as if Zoya were expecting an inspection at any minute. Alina moved an open textbook from the bed and sat gingerly on the edge. Zoya was only an arms length away now, the unattainable brought close.

“I recognized it as soon as I saw you. I did a report on it before. The Heyser painting, that is.” Alina knew she was rambling at this point, but it was the only way she knew how to fill the yawning void between them. “Did you know—”

“There’s rue for you, and here’s some for me; we may call it herb of grace o’ Sundays,” Zoya recited with a sharp laugh. She lifted the bottle in a mock toast. “Here’s to an hour of rue.”

Alina was silent as she watched Zoya drink from the bottle again. She still didn’t know why she had decided to come in—did she think she could comfort Zoya? Zoya who seemed determined to ignore her existence when she wasn’t actively trying to get her to leave the school?

Zoya coughed, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nikolai doesn’t get it, you know. That’s why he tried to stop me.”

Alina understood. More than anything, she understood. She folded her hands in her lap and nodded. Zoya took that as a sign to go on.

“He can afford to laugh off comments about himself, the rumors, no matter how bad. Because he has his money behind him. His family name. He’ll survive just about anything they can say about him. But me?” Zoya laughed again. “If I don’t respond, I’ll be a target. If I don’t respond, that makes what they say about me okay when it’s anything but.

“I fought tooth and nail to get here. I’m not going to let that bastard get away with saying stupid shit like that. And if Nikolai isn’t with me, then he’s part of the problem.”

Alina nodded slowly, the weight of Zoya’s words sinking in. “For all they make this place out to be, it’s full of idiots,” she said. “My first week here, one of my professors stopped class to ask me where I’m from because he said I ‘had an accent.’”

Zoya snorted. “You’re from Sacramento. You don’t have an accent.”

“That’s what I told him,” Alina said with a shrug. “He wouldn’t believe me.”

Zoya groaned and fell back against her pillows. “What an asshat.”

“Yeah.”

Zoya was silent, and for a moment, Alina thought she’d fallen asleep. Then she sprang up again, her blue eyes intense. And way too close. Alina’s eyes flicked down towards her lips. She wondered how it would feel to touch them, to lose herself in the feeling.

Bad Alina, she chastised herself. No drinking for you ever again.

“Girls like us....” Zoya began. She frowned and evidently decided to start over. “Girls like us have to stick together.”

Alina’s throat went dry. Zoya’s unfairly perfect face was still too close to hers, her breath ghosting across her lips. Her mind went blank.

“Uhh…” she very eloquently supplied. Zoya didn’t seem to mind though, not as she blinked and narrowed her eyes as if seeing Alina for the very first time. She placed a freezing palm against Alina’s cheek. Alina thought she was going to die.

“You’re kind of pretty this close,” Zoya muttered. “Did you know that?”

“Thanks?” Alina squeaked. What else was she supposed to say when she was pretty sure this had to be an alternate universe where her craziest fantasies came true? Her eyes flicked downwards again, and Zoya didn’t miss it this time. Her lips curled into a smirk.

“My eyes are up here, Starkov.”

“Are they—mmgh.” Alina was cut off as Zoya finally bridged those last few inches between them and crashed their lips together. Her lips were as soft as Alina had imagined, and slightly sticky from the last stubborn traces of lipstick. Her hand curled around the back of Zoya’s neck to pull her closer. Her other hand was braced on the bed as Zoya pressed against her.

Jesus christ, she was kissing Zoya Nazyalensky. And part of her never wanted to stop.

Zoya kissed like someone greedy for more. Alina barely had time to breathe, to think, as Zoya leaned in and deepened the kiss. She tasted like bitter vodka and citrus, but Alina didn’t mind as she opened her mouth and breathed her in. Her skin was fire under Alina’s fingers and she was burning, burning, all the oxygen in the room gone. Zoya’s hand slipped under her sweater.

And all too soon, Alina was cold again, blinking hazily as Zoya sprang back, a look of panic in her eyes.

“Sorry.” Alina had never heard Zoya apologize before. Zoya refused to meet her eyes. “You should go.”

I’m dying, Alina thought as she stumbled out of Zoya’s room without another word. That’s the only explanation. I’m dying and this is my brain hallucinating to bring me comfort in my last moments.

She fell face-down onto her bed and willed herself to never wake up again.

#visit the ao3 link and read the notes if you want more details from this au #tgt #sab #writing #zoya #alina #zoyalina #nikolai #mal #my writing #the grisha trilogy #shadow and bone

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sapphire-weapon · 1 year

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This is more of a rant than anything. The part where Leon wakes up after getting his plagas zapped and he asks Ashley if she did it herself, I feel as though that will be minimized because they are going to show Ada helping her. I like Ada, but I also liked that it implied that Ashley could handle the reigns on her own to some degree. We already know that Ada destroyed the tower in chapter 1, since she has the rocket launcher at the end, and from Separate Ways (which we're eventually going to get again) Ada's never too far from Leon cause she needs him for her own thing. I liked Ashley's growth and I hope I'm wrong to some extent, cause that would mean that she lied to him even if Ada asked and I can't handle that 😭! Ok. This terrible and all over the place rant is over.

if this happens then it means that RE4make changes it so that she doesn't lose the fight to saddler, and i don't know how they're gonna do that because saddler still has to string her up at the docks.

i mean i GUESS there's ways to do that?? but like. i doubt it. the only thing between luis's lab and finding ada strung up are two small rooms with novistadors in them. there's not enough time for ada to help ashley help leon and then disappear again and then get caught and then lose and then get strung up, unless saddler literally suckerpunches her on her way out, which would suck and be stupid.

also i kind of find it hard to believe that ada would walk into luis's lab and then not take anything on her way out.

like. i hear you. it's fucking bananas that the game wants us to believe that 120lb ashley lifted 250+lbs of muscle plus probably another 100lbs of tac gear up onto that chair by herself, so it stands to reason that someone must have helped her, but it's also resident fucking evil LMAO it's just as likely the explanation is "bruhhh adrenaline is whack, u hear about that shit where moms lift up cars to save their babies and shit? it's like that"

but like if it does become a thing, i don't have a problem with ashley keeping the secret from leon, personally -- and i think that's because i'm not picturing it happening the same way you might be. considering ashley's breathless, excited "yeah. yeah, i did this" reaction, chances are her encounter with ada was extremely positive. instead of ada just walking in and making it easy and then turning around and going "don't tell him i did this" it might be something more like... it's an almost comical situation of ashley and ada trying to lift leon's heavy ass, where it's VERY VERY VERY CLEAR that there's absolutely no way ada would've been able to do it without ashley, either. and then at the end of it ada's just winded and exhausted like like "... go ahead and take all the credit. i'd really rather not have him holding this over my head. you know how he is." and it's like. a nice bonding moment between ladies.

but. you know. until proven otherwise, my personal headcanon is that the merchant was the one who helped ashley. he fuckin walks in on his way to his final location and sees leon passed out on the floor all plaga-ified and is just like "well. that's sure not going to be good for business." and it definitely throws out his back but he just keeps on truckin.

#i want to believe that ashley and ada become friends at some point #and it just makes leon's life completely fucking miserable #COULD YOU IMAGINE THE POWER THOSE TWO WOULD HAVE OVER HIM IF THEY WORKED TOGETHER #HOLY SHIT #SOMEONE WRITE THIS FIC #leon's actually so fucking lucky that chris wound up hating ada #because imagine if he got in on this too #that would be like #the trifecta of leon torture #and claire's just cackling in the background like it's the best day of her life (because it is)

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aidanchaser · 10 months

Text

Boulangérella: A Miraculous Fairy Tale AU - Chapter 9

Table of Contents Read on Ao3 Prologue

beta’d by @7wizardsshallanswerthecall, @mothmanhamlet, @ccboomer and @aubsenroute

The palace doors were as tall as three men, laid with gold and glass that glittered in the lights that illuminated the city in the evening. Should the need arise, they could be barred from the inside with three large iron beams so heavy that it took four men to heft one. Right now, they were unbarred, and the princes stood just beyond them, waiting on the castle steps.

King Gabriel stood in the center, and Duchess Amelie stood on Félix’s left. Nathalie Sancouer stood one step below, posture as perfect as the guards who stood on either side of the doors and along the stairway.

As the white carriage with red dragons painted onto either side approached, drawn by four dark horses, King Gabriel cleared his throat.

Adrien, though he did not know if his father was even looking at him, straightened his spine in response as surely as if it had been a verbal command.

The carriage came to a stop and a footman in dark robes patterned with swirling clouds hurried to open the door for Empress Tomoe Tsurugi.

She was not a tall woman, but that was easy to forget. She carried her head high and though she had a cane, she did not lean on it. Her robes were white, a stark contrast to her servants’, and a red serpentine dragon, like those on the carriage, curled around the hem and climbed up her shoulders. Its jaws opened along her waist in a vicious snarl.

Behind her came her daughter who stood with a posture as stiff as Adrien’s. Princess Kagami Tsurugi, too, wore white, like her mother, but instead of a dragon, brilliant red flowers with long, thin black leaves bloomed in the fabric.

As she and her mother approached the palace, Princess Kagami touched her mother’s elbow gently, just before they reached the steps. Empress Tomoe stopped and, in unison, she and her daughter bowed.

“We thank you, King Gabriel, for your hospitality,” Empress Tomoe said.

King Gabriel bowed in return, a sign of respect Adrien could not ever remember his father bestowing.

“It is an honor to have the Empress of the Bright Islands of the East in residence in our humble city. Please, allow me to escort you.” King Gabriel stepped down to Tomoe and took her arm.

Adrien watched in surprise as his father led the woman inside. He had never seen his father behave so personably before. He was careful to keep his expression neutral as they passed him, but he could not help but glance down at his father’s hand on the Empress’ arm and notice that King Gabriel was no longer wearing his wedding band.

A dozen thoughts crashed through Adrien’s head, the loudest among them his memory of his aunt saying over dinner, “If you want an alliance with the Tsurugis so badly, marry the princess yourself. Or her mother—she’s widowed, too, isn’t she?”

Adrien might have stood on the palace steps for hours more, turning over the single moment of his father’s politeness and the glaring lack of a wedding band if an insistent cough at his elbow had not startled him back into the moment.

He realized that Princess Kagami was standing beside him, and he wondered how long she had been waiting. It was probably far longer than it ought to have been, if Félix’s quizzical stare was anything to judge by.

“Princess,” he said, and, with the distant idea that his words and his body belonged to someone else entirely, he held out his hand to her. “Allow me.”

She said nothing, but she took his hand and allowed him to lead her inside.

It was hard to say what thoughts, exactly, consumed Adrien as he led the princess to the rooms in the east wing of the castle that she and her mother would be staying in while they were here. Perhaps because the logical conclusion of King Gabriel’s unusual deference combined with the lack of a wedding band was too absurd for Adrien to even consider so he simply considered nothing at all.

For Kagami’s part, she was unused to making conversation in the best of circumstances. This made for a perfectly silent walk up the staircase and to the adjoined rooms that had been prepared for Kagami and her mother. She knew she ought to say something—she was here to try to convince Adrien to choose her as his bride, after all—but she did not know where to begin. Kagami had learned and mastered many things in her education as a princess, from flower arranging to the art of war, but she had never quite mastered conversation.

As King Gabriel showed Empress Tomoe the attached office where she might have the privacy to manage international affairs during her stay, Kagami had a brief moment alone with Prince Adrien in the receiving room. Knowing that her mother expected her to draw Adrien into a marriage, she started with the most intimate question she could think of.

“Do you prefer to be addressed by your whole title?” she asked.

Adrien, whose entire focus had been on the door that had just closed behind his father and the empress, jumped. He reluctantly turned to Kagami and stared as if he were just seeing her for the first time. “I’m sorry?”

“Should I call you Crown Prince Adrien Agreste of the City of Lights or do you have a different title that you prefer?”

“Just Adrien is fine. Maybe Prince Adrien if my father’s nearby.”

His smile was bewildered, but at least it was a smile. Kagami counted it as a private victory.

“You may call me Kagami. Though in the company of my mother, ‘Princess’ will do.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

There was another long pause of silence between them. Adrien searched for something to say, but his attention kept wandering back to that closed office door and his father’s wedding band-less hand.

“Princess—er, Kagami, is your mother…” but he wasn’t sure how to phrase the question on his mind in a polite way. Instead he managed, “We probably shouldn’t be alone without a chaperone.”

Princess Kagami glanced over his shoulder to the doorway, where Félix stood, half-caught in the orange light of the setting sun that cast a golden glow over the plush red carpets of the guest quarters.

“Is your cousin insufficient?”

Félix shrugged one shoulder. “I could be persuaded to give you two some privacy.”

“A handmaiden or lady-in-waiting would be more appropriate,” Adrien said quickly, and wondered if his father and the Empress needed a chaperone. Wasn’t it just as inappropriate for two widowed adults to be cloistered alone as it was for two young royals who had the question of betrothal between them?

“I’m afraid my handmaiden took ill on the long journey,” Kagami said.

“Adrien would be happy to help you settle in,” Félix offered, much to Adrien’s chagrin.

Adrien wasn’t sure what decorum dictated here. Did he apologize for his cousin’s forwardness? But surely he couldn’t leave the princess unaided.

“I’d be happy to send for a servant to assist you,” he offered, and hoped it was the appropriate middle ground.

Princess Kagami dipped her head in a slight bow. “That would be appreciated, Your Highness.”

“Then we’ll leave you to recover from your long journey,” Adrien said, “and see you tomorrow evening.”

“Unless you’re in want of company tonight,” Félix said, which made Adrien’s face so hot, he was certain it must be as red as a cherry.

He hurriedly cleared his throat and turned to face his cousin, so the princess would not see his embarrassment. “I think tomorrow will be a long day for all of us, and perhaps it is best that we retire.”

Félix, for his part, was unfazed and simply shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Whatever you think is best.”

“That seems wise,” Princess Kagami said. “I will see you both tomorrow evening.”

As Adrien and Félix wished Kagami good night, Adrien’s eyes drifted once more to the closed office door. It was probably just politics, he told himself. They were probably just discussing taxes or trade routes. Maybe they were comparing budgets. It was probably nothing.

But why wasn’t his father wearing his wedding ring?

“You look absolutely vacant,” Félix said, once they were well away from the Tsurugi’s rooms.

“Sorry. My mind’s just elsewhere tonight.”

“Out with it, then,” Félix said. “Is it about the princess?”

“What? No, I…” Adrien shook his head. “Why were you so rude, anyway?”

“I wasn’t rude.”

“You were rude.”

Félix shrugged. “I was forward. You never say what you’re actually thinking. I thought I would do you a favor and give you a bit of an advantage. She was clearly trying to woo you.”

“Kagami wasn’t wooing me.”

“She said more words to you tonight than she ever did at the state dinner when we were children. She’s doing her best. Anyway, she seems nice.”

“She’s polite, at least. Something you certainly weren’t with her.”

“I don’t see why you aren’t more interested in her. She’s the best offer you’ve received.”

Adrien didn’t mean to sound offended, but he couldn’t help the indignation that crept into his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Chloé’s… well, Chloé. I know you think of her as a friend, but she’s really only interested in power and status. And Lila… can you really trust someone like her? But Princess Tsurugi is a good choice not just for the kingdom, but for you. She’s polite, well-mannered, and you two could go on in silence for the next twenty years and probably be quite fine with it. I can’t think of any reason you’d say no.”

“Isn’t love a good reason to say no?”

Félix raised an eyebrow, and though he kept his eyes on Adrien’s, he was well aware of the plain silver band on Adrien’s finger. “Are you in love?”

Adrien did not care for how pointed the question was. He folded his hands behind his back and fidgeted with his ring. “Who else would I even know well enough to be in love with them?”

Félix considered asking Adrien outright about the ring. Was it possible that Adrien knew anything about how Amelie’s band had ended up with Gabriel? He didn’t see how, exactly, and he was afraid to ask, afraid to tip his own hand, even to Adrien. Adrien had claimed the ring on his hand belonged to his mother, but it was too plain to be the matching band to the ring tucked in Félix’s pocket. Was it some trinket from a lover?

“Adrien, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help you.” Though Félix was aware of the hypocrisy in his own words, it did not move him to be honest. He had one pathway out of this palace, and he was not going to let affection for his cousin deter him from it.

Adrien shook his head. “There’s nothing I can tell you.”

“Why are you lying? I thought we told each other everything.”

“You’re saying you’ve never kept a secret from me?”

“Never.”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped and he turned his gaze to the floor. “Fine. Yes, I have someone else in mind.”

“Who is she?”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Adrien, you can tell me anything.”

“It doesn’t matter. Father would never approve.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because he wants me to marry someone like Kagami or Chloé. Someone with influence.”

“Is she a commoner?”

“She—I don’t know.”

Félix wasn’t sure if he ought to be frustrated by Adrien’s uncharacteristic reticence or amused by the fact that Adrien could have an interest in someone yet have no idea what her social standing was.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know who she is,” Félix offered.

Adrien bit down on his lip. It was one thing to tell Ladybug that he loved her. It was another thing to confess to his cousin that he was in love with a hero that, as far as Félix knew, he had never actually met outside of that brief moment a month ago when she had saved them from an eternity encased in golden statues.

And, all of that aside, he had just, for better or worse, ended the secret friendship that he did have with Ladybug a few weeks ago.

“It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want me.”

“Adrien—”

“Sorry, Félix, but I’m not feeling well. Have a good night.”

Adrien hurried to his own rooms and it took all his self-restraint not to slam the door behind him. It was not anger that urged him on, but a chaotic drive that he usually attributed to Plagg. He was both exhausted and trapped; it built up a frenzy in his chest.

If this was to be Adrien’s last night of freedom before three nights of dancing and a set of lifetime vows, he was going to make sure he spent it the way he wanted to.

“Plagg—claws out.”

Chat Noir slipped out of the window and scurried across the palace rooftops, over the wall, and out into the city beyond. He had no goal, no plan. He simply wanted out.

He scampered across the rooftops of the city, breathing in the crisp night air. The cold burned his lungs, but the magic in his clothes kept him warm against the wintery night. His heart raced as he moved, alive with power. It was hard not to howl with excitement. He had missed this so much.

He used his staff to launch himself clear across the river and tumbled onto a rooftop on the other side before springing back into a run without slowing at all. The weeks of exhaustion that had built up in his chest seemed to loosen with every breath. He did not stop until he had reached the edge of the city and he had to make a choice: turn back around or head into the Forest of Fay.

He hesitated, scanning the dark trees. It was hard to make out much of anything in the pitch black of the moonless night. Even his cat-like eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness after his run through the notoriously well-lit city.

If he did give Plagg up after his twenty-first birthday, if he fully committed to wife and kingdom and abandoned his night time escapades, would Plagg return to the forest? Or would Plagg find someone else to help him face Hawk Moth? How easy would it be for Plagg to replace Adrien?

He twisted the ring; its normally dull surface now glistened like starlight. The emeralds in the shape of a cat’s paw glowed brightly with the same magic that illuminated the rubies pierced through Ladybug’s ears.

Not for the first time, he wondered who she was behind her mask. When her earrings went dark and her mask vanished, what sort of a life did she return to? Was she a commoner? Did she have enough to eat? Did she have people who loved her? Did she have someone that she loved…

He unclipped his staff from his belt and glanced down at the flashing green paw in its center. He was afraid to listen to what she had to say, afraid to hear her scold him for what had happened with Lila, or worse, tell him about a new partner she had found.

But he missed her voice.

Against his better judgment, he pressed his thumb against the flashing paw.

There were several messages, none with any of the scolding he had expected, but it was the last message that nearly broke him.

“I’m worried about you.”

Why did it have to hurt so much to know that she did care, that she did love him, just not in the way that he needed?

He considered sending her a message in reply, but there was nothing more for him to say. All the levity that had billowed him in his sprint across the rooftops had dissipated and his heart ached once more. He leapt back into the city, trying to shake the gloom that had settled over him. Despite the protective warmth of his magical glamour, he felt heavy and cold.

Though the streets were still lit, most of the windows of the city had darkened as the citizens had headed to bed, ready to rest before the beginning of a three-day festival. Chat Noir tried to think of things that he could steal, perhaps something he had always wanted to snatch but had never quite followed through on, or something that had always seemed too risky. If there was ever a night to get caught, it was tonight.

But far from the palace, high up in an attic, there was still one light burning. Its glow caught Chat Noir’s attention, and he leapt from balcony to chimney to rooftop to get a better look.

It would not be the worst thing in the world for his final crime to be a delicious pastry from the city’s best bakery. It might even be worth his time to pre-taste some of the desserts for the ball.

He double-checked that all of the boulangerie and patisserie’s windows were dark except for the attic. As long as he was quiet—and he excelled at quiet—he shouldn’t disturb whoever was still awake on the top floor.

The front door was locked, as he expected it would be. Even if he picked it, there was likely to be a bell on the inside of the shop door. He slipped around to the alley and found a window one floor up that did not look locked. It was an easy enough climb with the magical claws that decorated his hands and feet. He slid a metal-tipped finger into the catch, hefted the window, and tumbled inside.

Someone was snoring loudly. Chat Noir could make out two lumps buried under heavy covers, one significantly larger than the other. A woman’s voice murmured something about the cold and shifted under the blankets. He hastily closed the window and slipped across the room to the door, then down the stairs.

He moved slowly, ears intent on the bedroom, listening for any signs that the bakery owners might be on their way downstairs suddenly. He was so focused on sounds coming from upstairs that he did not hear the footsteps below until a tray crashed to the floor.

Chat Noir pressed himself flat against the wall and stayed perfectly still as a man’s sleepy voice called from upstairs, “Who’s that?”

“Sorry, Papa!” a girl’s voice called back. “Just a midnight snack.”

“Mind the meringues,” a woman said sleepily.

“Yes, Maman!”

Before Chat Noir could decide on the safest exit strategy, the girl was already on the stairs, a plate of biscuits and cookies in hand. He stayed frozen, wondering if the shadows were enough to hide him. She had her head down. Maybe he wasn’t entirely ruined.

Marinette’s eyes were focused entirely on her feet; she was very intent on not tripping and waking her parents again, but something green and glowing caught her eye. She glanced to her left and, yes, that was Chat Noir’s ring. There was no mistaking it. She looked up to his face and yes, that was Chat Noir. But why was he here, in her—

Before she could quite finish her thought, her foot caught on the edge of the stair and she plummeted backwards.

Chat Noir caught her with one hand and with his other, snatched her plate before it could clatter against the stairs.

“Please don’t scream,” he whispered.

“Why would I…” and it occurred to her that Chat Noir did not know her, not the way that she knew him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I… was hungry.”

Marinette, simply pleased to know that he was all right and unable to tell him why that knowledge was so precious to her, said, “Wait right there.”

Chat Noir half-expected the girl to go for her parents, but she went back downstairs to the pantry. He waited obediently, still holding her plate of pastries, until she came back with a tray piled high with food, pressed it into his other hand, then put a finger to her lips and motioned for him to follow her upstairs.

So he followed, unsure why she was feeding the notorious thief who had broken into her family’s shop, but grateful for it all the same.

When they reached the light of the attic, Chat Noir could see that the girl was dusted in flour from her tumble that had woken her parents. He wondered how this shy, stuttering girl could be so calm in the face of one of the most wanted criminals in the city. Not that Chat Noir had nor wanted a dangerous reputation, but he thought folks ought to have some fear of him showing up at a place of business in the dead of night.

She motioned for him to follow her through the attic and out onto the rooftop balcony. Though Chat Noir had never been in the attic, it felt familiar. The sketches pinned to the wall and the scraps of fabric littering the floor reminded him of the seamstress’s work room.

“Do you have a sister?” he asked.

She turned back with a raised eyebrow, pressed a finger to her lips, and shook her head.

So the flour-coated bakery girl and the scatter-brained seamstress were the same person after all.

When they finally reached the roof and Marinette closed the trapdoor behind her, she let out a breath of relief.

“Sorry,” she said, “but I think my parents would pack me up and send me to a convent if they knew I was feeding the most wanted thief in the city.”

Chat Noir could not help but grin at her. “Why are you feeding the most wanted thief in the city?”

“You said you were hungry, and I don’t know what else you would have come in here to steal.”

Chat Noir leaned against the railing of her balcony, if only for the reminder that he could still leave if he really wanted to. “That looked like some pretty expensive fabric back there.” But he regretted it as soon as he saw the panic that filled her bright blue eyes.

“Oh, please don’t—”

“Sorry, I’m teasing, honest. It looked irreplaceable, and I don’t really go for that.”

Marinette relaxed. Maybe someone else might not have believed Chat Noir, but she knew him better than anyone, and she had never known him to lie.

“That’s what the midnight snack was for,” she said. “I’m going to be up all night finishing the princes’ outfits for tomorrow.”

His metal-tipped fingers clinked softly against the balcony railing, twitching with anticipation and anxiety. Curiosity was hard to ignore, and harder still when Plagg’s chaotic brand of magic coursed through his veins.

Though he was as afraid to know, he asked, “Can I see?”

Marinette pursed her lips doubtfully. “Maybe. First, eat. Then tell me why no one’s seen you in weeks.”

“I’m a thief. No one seeing me is part of the job.”

“You haven’t stolen anything.”

“How do you know? Are you checking up on me?”

“I’m a big fan of crime statistics,” she said with a smile, and Chat Noir could not help but laugh.

He sat down beside her and gratefully pulled open a biscuit. It was not warm, like it must have been this morning, but it was still airy and even its faint aroma left his mouth watering.

“One of Hawk Moth’s curses was unleashed last week,” she said, and Chat Noir did not like how heavy her voice sounded. “Lord Roth got in trouble for taking bets on who the princes were going to marry and King Gabriel fined him a lot of money. Hawk Moth turned him into a giant, golden safe. Ladybug took care of him alone, but I bet she could have used your help.”

Chat Noir fidgeted with the ring on his finger. “Ladybug needs to find a new partner.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got other things to do. Are you interested in the position?” He held his hand out to her and wiggled his ring. The emeralds cast an unnatural green glow across her cheeks. “Go on, take it. See what sort of a deal my fay might make with you. Though I should warn you, he’s a bit of a brat.”

Marinette stared at Chat Noir, unsure what to make of him. She was not afraid of him, never had been, but tonight, something about him felt dangerous.

She self-consciously pulled her pigtails loose and refastened them. “Sorry, but I’ve got enough on my plate as it is between helping my parents and finishing my apprenticeship.”

“Speaking of,” Chat Noir gestured to the trapdoor beneath her feet, “care to show me your work?”

“I don’t think so, chaton.” She shook her head. “You’ve only eaten half of a biscuit and haven’t answered my question at all. Where have you been?”

The nickname stung only a little. The way she said it was so casual and sweet that it felt more like an offer of safety than a reminder of what he was giving up. It still served as both.

“I’ve been busy,” he shrugged. “Everyone has, right?”

“Are you saying you have a day job?”

“Of a sort.”

“Then why are you a thief?”

Chat Noir stuffed the end of the biscuit into his mouth and leaned back on his hands. He had a dozen answers, some more true than others. Some Ladybug knew, some she didn’t.

“For fun,” he finally said, which was perhaps the most honest answer he could give to a strange girl who had fed him purely because she was kind.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “You risk your life—your freedom—for a bit of fun?”

Chat Noir reached for a cookie to stall while he searched for an appropriate joke. It seemed like too much to tell her that this was his only chance at freedom, that without this, he did not have much of a life at all.

“Well, I’ve never been caught before,” he said around the cookie, “so I don’t see what the risk is, really.”

“I caught you.”

He laughed. “You tripped and fell on the stairs and I could have bolted out the front door if I wanted.”

“But you didn’t. Instead you caught me.”

He shrugged and got to his feet. “Thank you for the pastries, Mademoiselle…”

“Dupain-Cheng,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, but I believe I am keeping you from your work. So unless you want to show me…”

She sighed and stood. “I suppose you’ve earned it. Come on, chaton.”

It stung a little less the second time.

Chat Noir followed her into the attic bedroom and took it in properly. It was far smaller than the grand bedrooms he was used to. There was a desk covered in sketches and fabric, a rather small bed, and a single mirror. She had a mannequin in the center of her room, dressed in a fine, silvery jerkin that glistened like moonlight. The doublet beneath it was solid black, but across the chest glittered a chain of gems, their colors brilliant in the glow of lamplight.

Chat Noir gave a low whistle. “I promise not to steal from you, tailor’s apprentice, but I might have to sneak into the ball and lift those gems off of one of the princes. Which one did you say this is for?”

“I didn’t, and I won’t if you’re going to behave like that.”

Chat Noir sighed and collapsed into the chair at her desk. “I’ll be good if you insist. It looks finished to me.”

Marinette pulled a stool out from beneath her bed and sat down beside the mannequin. She reached across to her desk and fumbled through a drawer for a needle. “I have a few more gemstones to sew in since the jeweler only finished the order this morning, and this hem isn’t quite done. I’ll probably have to adjust it once it’s on Prince Félix anyway, but I don’t want to show up tomorrow with it looking unfinished. And there’s the overcoat that still needs its lining.” She pointed to the fur and satin draped over her mirror.

“So this one’s for Prince Félix, then?”

Marinette frowned, but said nothing. She pulled the end of the thread between her lips and concentrated on threading her needle.

“Bit somber for a party. The gems are a nice touch, though.”

Marinette had to devote most of her focus to her stitches. It was just loose tacking before she did the final touches tomorrow morning, but it did mean that she ended up with several pins in her mouth.

“Printh Féthix thaid it wath what he wanted,” she said, keeping her teeth tight on the pins as she spoke. “The Dutheth thaid it wath fine.”

Chat Noir picked up a spool and wound the loose end of red thread around his finger. “So can I see what you did for Prince Adrien?”

“I finithed it yetherday.” She gestured to a bundle of paper lying on her desk. “You can look, but be careful.”

Hesitantly, Chat Noir pulled back the heavy brown paper. He recognized the color right away. It was almost identical to the pale green Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng had shown him in her original sketches. So she had gone with the green and the lilies after all.

He folded the paper back up, uncertain that he was ready to see it in full. At least he knew what he had to face tomorrow. But that was tomorrow. Tonight, he did not have to be Prince Adrien.

“I am rather fond of green,” he said, and flashed his ring at her. “Master thief that I am, do you think I could lift this outfit from Prince Adrien while he’s wearing it?”

“I’d love to thee you try,” she laughed.

Her laughter, like the unexpected nickname, both stung and comforted him.

He stood and looked around her room, still fidgeting with the thread in his hands. It had gotten so tangled in his fingers that he was not sure how to undo it, and he was afraid to mention it and risk upsetting a girl who had been so kind to him.

Her room was, like any dedicated designer, filled with sketches and notes. Some he recognized from what she had shown to Prince Adrien at her workshop, but most were for gowns and accessories and they did not have client names attached to them.

“Do you design your own clothes often?”

She hummed noncommittally. “Juth for fun.”

“So which of these are you wearing to the ball?” He gestured to a cluster of gown designs pinned up near her window. His favorite was one done in a style similar to Ladybug’s, where the skirts were short enough to show off the model’s legs. It was the sort of thing that might make his father faint, but Chat Noir enjoyed it.

Marinette pulled the pins out of her mouth and looked up. “Oh, goodness, I have far too much to do to design and make my own dress for the ball. I’ve still got details to finish on the princes’ outfits for the second and third nights of the ball.”

“But you are going?” It was hard to keep the hope out of his voice.

“On the last night, once all the work is done.”

“I’ll save you a dance.”

“You’re really going?” she laughed again, and this time her laughter hurt more.

“Should I not?”

“You’re the most wanted thief in the city. King Gabriel will have your head.”

“He won’t know it’s me.” Chat Noir felt a bit reckless as he turned to face her, but reckless was part of a thief’s job description. He took her hand, ignoring the needle pinched between her fingers and kissed the back of it. “Find me, and I’ll be able to thank you for the food tonight.”

Marinette blinked up at him, surprised by this sudden show of affection. She was used to buffeting his advances as Ladybug, but she was not used to this Chat Noir who seemed so much more fragile than the young man who had been her partner for the last year.

“How will I know it’s you?”

“I’ll be wearing my ring.”

“Lots of people will be wearing rings.”

“I’ll make sure that you know.”

“O-oh.”

“Good night, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng. And good luck with the work.”

And then Chat Noir climbed up onto the roof. Marinette scrambled to her feet and ran after him, but he was gone, as quickly as he had left Ladybug weeks ago. All that was left in his wake was a spool of red thread.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fic #ml fairy tale au #fairy tale au #marichat

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wherethehellismysupersuit · 2 years

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EP - 12 review

Let me just say that at this point, 25 21 is just a series of memes of baek yijin looking shocked with his hand on his mouth lmaoo-

Am i late? i can’t tell. i was just impressed at heedo’s fluent french, just like yijin.

So. I may or may not have been guilty of the same reaction through this entire episode.

Where do i even begin? The argument between heedo and her mum was realistic and hilarious af. one moment u guys are happily holding hands, the next u are bickering. it stayed true to their characters without being overly sappy.

Ji Seungwan is a freakin’ queen. I have never admired nor crushed on someone so hard before.( i lied. I’m crushing hard on all the characters in this series) I’m glad this ep gives her the spotlight she rightfully deserves.

Corporal punishment, although banned, still continues to prevail in a lot of countries. Idk about the western ones, but i can safely vouch for the asian ones. My blood was boiling the entire time i saw the teacher. The harsh reality is, not everyone is like Seungwan. Some people who are toppers, usually use their status as a way to get away with literally anything, all because of a set of numbers on their paper. That’s fucked up. The entire system of judging someone by numbers is fucked up imo, although we have no other choice.

Although i did feel like the scene between her and her mother was slightly unrealistic; cause if i did something like that my mom would’ve screamed at me, locked herself in a room, thought about it, grudgingly agreed, and then comfort me. i liked the fact that the mum didn’t just agree and tell her that her decision was brave like a game npc. Unfortunately, the real world is harsh, and you’re not always able to uphold your beliefs. Partly that’s why i admire seungwan- because i know i would’ve bent unlike her, who broke. her mom reading the teachers at Taeyang High to filth had me whooping at my screen. Like mother, like daughter.

The fencer Yeji struggling also got to me. The feeling when something u used to love, is now something you’ve grown tired of, is heartbreaking. imo, the coach was giving her an out; a chance to reevaluate her determination. Maybe i’m biased, cause i love coach yang.

yurim and heedo were peak besties. we love to see it.

yijin and heedo doing coupley things like making excuses to walk under an umbrella had me squealing and dying of cuteness. oh, if i knew what was yet to come.

Jiwoong and Seungwan have the most natural friendship i’ve seen in kdrama history. that easiness of confession, and the comfort in hanging out makes me wistful, ngl. Also, we get the male crying? and the female comforting? and it’s purely platonic? we love it. (although i would not be opposed to a friends since diapers -to- lovers trope if u know what i mean ;] )

And now the most important part. excuse my aggressiveness.

THE FUCKING KISS? IN A DIMLY LIT ROOM, SOFT TV BLARING IN THE BACKGROUND, THE ANTICIPATION IN HEEDO’S FACE AS SHE COUNTS DOWN THE SECONDS, YIJIN’S SUDDEN AWARENESS OF THE CLOSE PROXIMITY OH MY GOD I’M ACTUALLY DEAD-

And there’s that. I must say that the next preview makes me anxious. as it always does. and i have to wait a week for it. boo.

also, if i don’t post on the next weekends, please feel free to assume that my family has called the exorcist on the account of thinking that i am possessed due to the amount of unholy noises i make when watching this drama. i’m truly sad to think that this will soon end and then what am i supposed to do with my life?

stan seungwan’s perm.

signed, your resident psychoanalyser.

#twenty five twenty one #baek yi jin #na hee do #ko yu rim #ji seung wan #moon ji woong #i call myself 'psychoanalyser' but really i'm just an analyser who's a lil bit psycho #also if u wanna scream with me on this show #comment! let's talk :)#weekend ramblings

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jincherie · 4 years

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sunshine riptide | ot7

— COMMISSION —

⊙ — pairing: ot7 x reader ⊙ — genre: hybrid au, fluff, comfort, found family, ac inspired ⊙ — wc: 13.8k+ ⊙ — warnings: oc has an almost/light anxiety attack towards the end. there is no explicitly mentioned trigger and it isn’t dwelled on for long, but better to let u guys know! ⊙ — notes: here it is! it’s soft, and warm, and I hope that it can be something to cheer up a little bit those who aren’t having such a good day. i love u all, and I hope you like this piece :) to the commissioner, thank you for allowing me to write this and I truly hope it helps you feel even just a little bit better! <3

Moving to this island whose inhabitants are mostly hybrids was a bit of an impulse decision, something you did with empty pockets barely a cent to your name. Thanks to the kindness of the island’s ‘mayor’ you have a place to stay, the last spare room in a sharehouse with seven hybrids, and for three months he will pay your rent in exchange for you to work in his shop until you are back on your feet. It’s a sweet deal, but when you begin to get along better than expected with your housemates and the deadline for your departure looms ever closer, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to make yourself leave when the time comes.

— posted; 06.09.2020 | masterlist

“So in exchange for three months paid stay on the island while you get back on your feet, you will work part-time at the Rabbits Den three days a week, and man the desk in the Resident Services Building on Sundays. Is that okay to you?”

You nod eagerly, the ordeal seeming too good to be true and something you’re afraid will be retracted if you don’t act with haste. Mr Bang returns your motion with a little less fervour, the same kind look never leaving his face.

“Perfect, it’s settled then! We’re glad to have you with us, y/n.”

Something lifts from your chest in that moment, as though you’d been walking beneath the cover of a lead blanket and it has finally slipped from your shoulders. You feel a little breathless, and you know the grin that slips onto your face is stupidly wide. Embarrassingly, you feel salty pricks at the corner of your eyes.

“Thank you so much,” you say, and you mean it. It hadn’t exactly been a well thought out plan, moving here with nothing to your name but your most basic possessions, but you’d just needed to escape and start anew and this… this had been the first opportunity you’d seen. The best opportunity you’d seen. “Really, thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, young lady.” Mr Bang’s expression grows even softer, if possible. “This is a place people come to find refuge, and happiness. You’re welcome here.”

You clear your throat, turning your head to the side and pretending that you need to cough so he doesn’t see the tear that slips out. You have a feeling he knows, though, as you turn back and find him smiling at you, floppy rabbit ears framing his round face. He reaches out, patting you on the shoulder.

“Now, lets find you a room for the night. I’ll send word to the house I have in mind and make sure they have it nice and tidy before your arrival tomorrow. Sound good?”

It hits you only now how tired you are, more emotionally exhausted than anything, and nod while allowing him to lead you down the hall. That does sound good, actually. That sounds amazing.

O – O – O

You’d arrived on this island in the early hours of the morning yesterday, the late-night ferry the only one that runs to this island on the outskirts of the archipelago. It’s likely due to the fact that the captain is a nocturnal hybrid, and hence prefers to run his business under the cover of night. You hadn’t been able to sleep on the trip over, so when Mr Bang had shown you to the room he was happy to lend you for the night, despite it being barely ten o’clock in the morning you’d passed out the second your head hit the pillow. It was more of a nap than anything, but you suspect that the events of the past few months all caught up to you at once because you woke only for dinner and then fell asleep once more. Mr Bang offered no judgement, and simply left a note instructing you where the bathroom is and where you could find towels so that you could freshen up once you awoke. He also left you a coffee bun in a container, since you’d missed the afternoon tea he held the day before.

You hadn’t even been on this island a day and already the kindness of one of the residents was almost bringing you to tears.

Due to the fact that you’d slept far too early, you end up waking up at an ungodly hour the next day, the day you are meant to be moving in to the sharehouse that Mr Bang told you about. Laying in the bed, nestled in the warmth of the covers and watching as the suns rays slowly begin to stain the ceiling and the curtains in rich marigold, you do your best to get yourself together. You can breathe easy now, any anxiety you’d felt previous now nothing more than an echo in your chest. You feel refreshed, and not just from the ridiculous amount of sleep you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours. There are of course some nerves pertaining to meeting your new housemates, but it’s manageable. You have faith that everything will turn out well. It’s a good feeling.

Mr Bang is kind enough to offer you breakfast, and likely would have pushed you to stay for lunch had you not shown up down the stairs with your baggage already in tow. So begrudgingly, he allows you to head on your way, informing you that your new housemates knew of your arrival and had endeavoured to tidy up as much as possible. You thought it was a little funny he was telling you that—just how messy is the house usually?—but he simply shook his head with a smile that told you the answer would come soon enough.

The island isn’t big, but it most definitely isn’t small. The sun is warm and the air cool with a tinge of salt and sea trailing along the breeze, and the path you walk along that skirts the beach is peppered with sand and the odd shell. It makes you happier than anticipated, because just being out here makes you feel so free. Mr Bang told you that the house where you will be staying is on the other side of the island, past the little cluster of shops and small businesses and perched at the edge of the sand, backing onto a river that flows into the ocean and skirted on one side by a small cliff.

“It’s their own little alcove,” Mr Bang had snorted, a mixture of fondness and amusement evident on his features. “They get up to more trouble than I can keep track of over there, but they’re good boys.”

Ah, that’s right. You’d almost forgotten; your new housemates are a bunch of boys. You hope that Mr Bang is right about their character and you won’t be living in discomfort for the next three months.

The path wound and curved a bit, following the edge of the island, and before long you were walking through a section of light forestry. You suspected the house would be on the other side, and were in the midst of thinking just what it would look like when a small squeak! catches your attention and you halt, almost dropping your bag.

It’s silent, save for the way the breeze caresses the leaves around you. You peer around, eyes unable to spot anything in the foliage. Did you imagine it? It’s a little early in your stay to be going crazy. Hesitantly, you adjust your grip on your bag and resume your trek.

Squeak! S-squeeeak!

No, you definitely heard that. You freeze, having gotten a better sense of where the sound is coming from now and turning towards a large tree smothered in vines of varying thickness and clinginess. For a moment, you don’t see anything, eyes squinting hard—it’s like one of those I spy books you used to rave about as a kid— and just when you think you might be looking in the wrong place, you catch movement.

There, in a cluster of the vines dangling from one of the tree’s thicker limbs, is a tiny creature, all tangled up and squeaking in distress.

“Oh my goodness,” you drop your bag, immediately moving closer. “Poor thing—hold on just a second, bub. I’ll get you out. Promise not to bite me?”

The creature offers a squeak and logically you know it isn’t answering your request, but you pretend it is anyway. Carefully stepping over plants and twigs, thanking past you for wearing more practical boots, you reach where the creature is stuck, dangling just below eye level.

The vines it has managed to get all tangled up in aren’t particularly thick, but there are a lot of them, and it has managed to get a few of its limbs stuck in place. Carefully, you snap a few of the more central ones and ease the tiny thing out, getting a better view of it the more you pull from its body. It’s squeaking all the while, though with much less distress and more of an energy that simply feels chatty. It makes you smile.

“There you go,” you murmur, cradling the tiny baby in your palms and cooing, trying to calm the heartbeat and hurried breaths you can feel racing against your skin. You stroke along its back as lightly as you can manage. “Oh, you’re a little sugar glider! You’re so pretty, such a cutie. Look at your markings, wow… so pretty.”

Almost as though it can understand your praise and is basking in it, it flicks its bushy tail and rolls in your palm, like a cat rubbing against something with its cheek except this little glider is doing it with its whole body. It’s awfully friendly, you note. Perhaps much of the wildlife here is more peacefully accustomed to human and hybrid activity.

“Okay, you’re free now. I’ll stop ogling at you and let you go,” you say, holding your hands up to a part of the tree that isn’t covered in vines lest there be a repeat of the earlier situation. The sugar glider merely blinks, eyes still on you, and doesn’t move. Brows drawn in confusion, you move your hands closer to the tree, “Well, aren’t you going to—oh!”

Faster than you can react, the little thing darts from your hands, leaping to your bicep and scurrying up with tiny claws in your shirt to your shoulder. Once at its apparent destination, it rushes to the crook of your neck and makes itself at home, nestling against you and securing itself with its tail partway around the back of your neck and its little paws clutching your shirt edge. You giggle, still in shock and trying not to jostle it off as you fight the ticklish sensation.

“Okay. I guess you can come with me. I’m not sure if you can stay the whole while, but I’m sure it will be okay while I walk.”

So off you go, bending and retrieving your bag carefully so you don’t dislodge your tiny new companion. You’ve seen a bit of sugar gliders, but the way this one is acting is quite peculiar. If it sticks around until you arrive at the house, you’d love to snap a quick picture because it really is so pretty, so cute.

The trip is faster than anticipated, now there is something else to occupy your thoughts. Before you know it you’re out of the forestry and approaching a large, modern three storey building that is probably just a few yards short of a mansion, nestled between the ocean, the river, and a short cliff-face just barely higher than the roof. This is the place for sure.

The little glider seems to perk up, the closer you get, something that surprises you since it was so quiet you thought it was asleep. With a soft noise, it grabs onto your hair with tiny paws and scurries to the top of your head, likely making a mess of it in the process but it’s so cute you can’t bring yourself to mind. At least it will be an interesting first impression.

As you approach the front door, you think you see movement in one of the windows on the ground floor. You almost dismiss it as you reach the eve, until you catch the hurried patter of feet against hardwood from beyond the door.

You barely manage to blink before the door is flying open, a man with raven curls and two fluffy russet ears peeking between the locks presenting you with the biggest grin you have ever seen on anyone’s face. It’s boyish and cute, a direct contrast to the mature, sculpted features of his face.

“Hello!” he says, and you catch sight of a long, fluffy russet tail whipping behind him and betraying his excitement—not that he was doing much to hide it. “You must be the new roomie! It’s nice to meet you! We’ve been waiting all morning, and one of us actually went to pick you up but… I’m not sure where he is.”

You’re a little overwhelmed but easily recover when he simply keeps looking at you so happily, returning the man’s bright smile. There’s rustling in your hair at the back of your head but you ignore it, adjusting your grasp on your bag. “Ah, thank you. I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

The man pulls back, a sheepish look on his face that accompanies a light flush in his cheeks. “Oh, right. I’m Taehyung. Sorry. My hyungs tell me I tend to get a bit ahead of myself sometimes.”

You keep the smile on your face. “That’s okay, we got there in the end. It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

Taehyung brightens, tail curling happily behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted from a voice to the side.

“Are you going to make our poor new housemate wait outside all day, Tae?”

The light blush colouring Taehyung’s cheeks deepens, a sheepish laugh escaping. “No. I was just about to invite her in!”

He steps back and reveals the person behind him who had spoken, a tall man with dimples and silvery hair that did little to conceal the large, rounded grey ears atop his head. He seems a little awkward in his stance, like he has more body than he knows what to do with, but still extends an arm in greeting with a kind smile. “y/n, is it? Welcome, please come in. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here with us, however brief. We’re happy to have you.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry! If you cry now you can never show your face here again. You clear your throat, returning his smile as you step inside and out of the sun, the difference in temperature against your skin immediate. “Thank you, I really appreciate your generosity in letting me stay here.”

“Nonsense,” Taehyung snorts, “Namjoon-hyung has been saying for months we should find someone to fill the spare room, and now you show up on our doorstep! It’s perfect.”

The taller, who Taehyung had referenced as Namjoon, seems a little bashful, his cheeks heating. Does everyone in this house blush so easily? You hope it’s not contagious.

There is movement in your hair again, the glider apparently needing to breathe, and you have your mouth open ready to explain when Namjoon beats you to it.

“Oh, I see you’ve met Jimin already!”

What?

The glider leaps from your head and onto Taehyung’s outstretched arm, climbing to his head before leaping from that too and gliding through the air, all the way around the corner. There is a small clutter, the sound of a light swearword entering the air, and then the ever-familiar patter of feet against hardwood. Another boy rounds the corner, ashy-blond hair tousled and parted by two small grey ears, bushy tail curling behind him.

He skids to a stop in front of you, dipping in a brief bow before rising and shooting you a bright smile. “Hello! Thank you for helping me! I’m Jimin, welcome home!”

It takes all of your willpower to keep the happy tears at bay as you tilt your head back and laugh, already feeling lighter than you ever remember feeling before.

O – O – O

Your next introductions to the hybrids you will be sharing your home with for the next three months go much smoother and without as many surprises as the last ones. Jimin, who seems to have warmed up to you quickly, was more than happy to take you on a tour of the house and to go through introductions while he was at it. He happily told you who was what hybrid as well, without you asking. You figured that he realised your underperforming human nose wouldn’t be able to tell, so he took the initiative and you’re thankful for it, because you were curious.

The oldest resident of the house is Seokjin, a red-panda hybrid who goes on a spree of stress-baking every time exam season rolls around. Most of the hybrids study online, as you learnt from Jimin’s excited chattering. The second you met Jin, as he preferred to be called, you were stunned at how handsome he was. Of course, any awe that rooted you to the spot quickly dissipated as he said a joke so painfully funny it left you with whiplash between the urge to roll your eyes and guffaw. You like him, though. He’s nice.

You quickly discover that all the inhabitants of this house are, though. Yoongi is the second oldest and a squirrel glider hybrid—something Jimin said he found funny since he was closest to Jimin, a sugar glider, and Hoseok, the third oldest and a sunny squirrel hybrid. He giggled as he told you, and you couldn’t hide your own smile even as Yoongi’s ear had flicked and he’d shot the two of you a suspicious look. The little fun fact Jimin had told you about Yoongi had taken you by surprise; he remotely operates the island’s radio, many of the tunes ones he has created himself. Often, if there is a festival, he will volunteer his time to work the music jobs there, too. Apparently Namjoon also pitches in, and Hoseok when he has free time outside of the classes he teaches on the other side of the island.

Hoseok is a dancer, Jimin had gushed, and while he teaches at the school part time, he also volunteers time outside of that to hold dance classes for the kids. Jimin told you that he joins occasionally, but less often lately since his workload for university has increased. He did tell you, though, that the youngest of the house had all but taken his place, his youthful heart at home mucking around with kids and helping them learn.

Jungkook is his name, and Jimin informed you with a very fond and very amused look that he is rather shy, so you might not see him for a few days. Apparently it had been uttered just loud enough for the hybrid in question to catch it though, because there was a tumbling sound from the floor above and a series of stomping footsteps. A head of long, wavy inky hair had popped over the railing, grey ears pinned back as a baby-faced boy delivered a glare to the blonde to your side.

“Hyung! That’s not true! I’m not too shy to even introduce myself!” he had defended himself avidly, red-faced and huffy. When his eyes turned to you, mouth open to follow through on his words, he abruptly shrank and all that escaped was a squeak. It took him a moment to conjure speech once more, and this time he was noticeably less bold. “I’m—I’m Jungkook! It’s nice to meet you! I have to go now! Goodbye!”

And then he was gone, and so concluded your final introduction to the residents you had yet to meet. You thought you had a good feeling when you first arrived, but now that you’ve met everyone and everything feels that bit more real, you find yourself thinking…

It’s a really good feeling.

O – O – O

“It’s not what it looks like!”

You raise a brow, book in hand as you stand at the edge of the sand bank where green bleeds into gold. Against your heels is cool grass, and your toes are dipped in the gentle warmth of the sand. Namjoon sits in front of you, beneath a tree protruding from the dune, with a bundle of leaves in his hand and a guilty look in his face.

“Isn’t eucalyptus toxic to humans and hybrids?”

“I’m not eating it!” Namjoon waves his hands in a frantic bid to assure you, eyes wide, and almost drops the leaves in question. His large, grey ears flick in his distress. “I was just… I know I can’t eat it but it smells so good… I was just sniffing it. It calms me.”

You let out a light laugh, walking closer and plopping down on the sand beside him, beneath the generous shade the tree offers. The sea breeze is kind and cools your skin where it smarts from the sun, tickling your neck and manipulating your hair into a tumbleweed. Namjoon snorts, helping you get it back in order.

“No judgement,” you say, crossing your legs and placing your book in your lap for the meantime. “Just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to take you to a hospital, because I do not know where to find one on this island.”

Namjoon grins, rosy cheeks complimenting his skin the way it glows gold in the sun’s glare. “You’d drag little ol’ me all the way to the hospital if you knew where it was?”

“Well, yeah,” you laugh, sifting sand through your fingers as you relish the sound of waves crashing barely a yard away. It’s so peaceful, you feel so at peace. “Since none of you seem to know what a car is.”

“We had a car,” Namjoon admits, face flushing violently as he averts his gaze, turning his head. “There was just, um, an unfortunate incident… that may have involved a tree, or two…”

You decide not to probe further, lest your current good impression of Namjoon come under threat. A beat of silence passes, before Namjoon shuffles, placing the bundle of leaves back on the grass. He angles his body a little more towards you, sniffing subtly.

“So… how is your stay so far? Is everything going okay?”

You can’t hide the expression of surprise that makes its way to your face as you turn to him, blinking. You don’t know what you were expecting, but for some reason it hadn’t been that. It’s awfully nice of him.

You’ve been on the island almost a week now. The interactions you’ve had with your housemates so far, though not too bountiful, have all been pleasant, and you genuinely have nothing to complain about. You haven’t seen much of Jungkook, Hoseok, or Yoongi—but that mostly comes down to incompatible work hours and commitments. Mr Bang’s nephews run the Rabbit’s Den, the local convenience store that occasionally hosts a few exotic goods, and they have been nothing short of helpful, polite, and friendly while you worked there. You have worked a single shift at the Resident Services Building too, and it was pretty chill. A few residents came in, happily introduced themselves to you, and then you helped them with whatever had warranted their visit. All in all, your stay has been amazing so far.

“It’s been good,” you say, and it feels so nice to have the words escaping your mouth be true to the warmth in your chest. “Everyone here is super nice. It does feel a bit odd though, sometimes I feel like I’m the only human here.”

“Oh, yeah. You are,” Namjoon huffs an amused laugh. “You’re the first human Mr Bang has allowed on this island.”

Your surprise is evident, and it makes him smile when he turns his head to give you a sly look. “He must have had a good feeling about you. Rabbit hybrids tend to rely a lot on their gut feelings and intuition.”

“Oh,” you say, cheeks warming. Well, you’re glad he had decided to let you in. You say as much to Namjoon, and he smiles brightly at you.

“We’re glad he decided to let you in, too.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, a little embarrassed from the unexpectedness of it—was he really telling the truth? You’d hardly spent any time with some of your other housemates…

A calm silence begins to settle between you, and you take the time to open your book and resume where you left off. You get so carried away reading that when you finally look up some time later, the sight to your side almost makes you gasp.

Namjoon had, at some point, fallen asleep in a little patch of sunlight that manage to pierce through the foliage—in the place of the large, long-limbed man you had been talking to is now a considerably smaller fluffy koala, sitting upright and snoozing lightly. You suspect this isn’t the most ideal position for him to be sleeping in, though, because every few moments he will sway on the spot, almost tipping but not quite going far enough to have an abrupt meeting with the sand.

You coo, unable to help it, but the sound quickly grows alarmed when he leans too far—before you can think your arms shoot out to hold him up, but it seems there is something true to what is said about koalas being clingy because the second he feels something touch him, koala Namjoon clings.

You squeak, a fully-grown koala now wrapped around your forearm. Slowly, you bring it closer to you (feeling your bicep burn all the while because damn is he heavier than he looks!), planning to use your other hand to ease him off, but it seems that the second you’re close enough he can sense your warmth and he wants in. You sit, exasperated and amused, with a koala now latched to your midriff, arm forgotten. Both your hands are now free, but at what cost?

You figure that he’ll probably let go when he wakes up, or he might fall back into the sand in his sleep, but until then you resign yourself to unexpected but definitely not unwelcome koala cuddles. You just hope he won’t be too embarrassed when he wakes up; you can already see him stuttering and going red in your mind’s eye. It brings a chuckle to your lips, and with a smile on your face you return to your book once more, a little more content than before.

O – O – O

It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with the dreams.

Usually, once they start you can wake yourself up, or you can manage to turn them around if they’re one you’ve had before. But some nights, when the dreams come, you’re helpless but to see them play out. Sometimes they’re not that bad, but even the milder ones leave you with a nauseous ball of anxiety beneath your lungs and a feeling of discomfort that digs claws deep in your bones.

About three weeks into your stay, you wake up after one such dream, a cursory glance to your phone and the painful glare of its screen revealing it to be the early hours of the morning. For a moment you simply lay, blinking, with your gaze rooted on the ceiling. You had strung up some fairy lights around your dresser, and on the plaster above you the soft colourful rainbow of their hue meshes and blends with the cool pools of moonlight slipping through your curtains.

Absently, and with a sense of resignation that you feel in your bones, you strip the cover back and climb out of bed, deciding you may as well grab some water since you’re likely not going to be able to fall asleep very easily anytime soon.

As you make your way through the levels to the ground floor where the kitchen resides, you’re careful to be as quiet as possible—you’re not sure how successful your effort is but you do know that quite a few of your housemates have been inundated with coursework lately and you don’t want to disturb any of the valuable rest they need so badly. Jimin had looked so wiped out yesterday that you’d literally had to pull him away from the dishes and send him to bed. He complained on the way, but as soon as his head hit his pillow he was out, leaving you in a mixture of awe and concern. He explained as soon as he woke the next morning that he had been up all night completing an assignment, and it made you realise just how exhausted a lot of your roommates seem lately. You hope this period passes soon for them; you may not have been here long but you have grown to care for them and you don’t like seeing them so unwell.

You’re just pondering this when you reach the ground floor and venture into the kitchen, thoughts and feet coming to an abrupt stop as you take in the sight that greets you there.

Seokjin is standing by the bench, hands moving slowly as he puts something together just out of your view. A quick survey of the rest of the countertop tells you that he’s making lunches, and while ordinarily this would touch your heart (as it does every time you see how each of the hybrids in this house cares for each other), this time you’re overcome with a strong wave of concern.

Delicately put, Seokjin looks dead on his feet.

Every few moments his head bobs down, chin almost hitting his chest before he jerks awake just long enough to lift his head, before the cycle repeats once more. He looks so exhausted you’re impressed he managed to make as many lunches as he did. Though, from the looks of it he’s only about halfway through.

“Hey, Seokjin… are you okay?”

The hybrid jumps, the startle you gave him probably rendering him more awake than he has been in a few hours.

“Wh—what are you doing awake?” he sputters, having to lean against the bench so that he doesn’t fall over. “It’s almost midnight!”

You can’t help the look you give him, a mixture between amusement and concern. “Um… it’s a little past midnight actually… probably closer to two… are you alright?”

Seokjin blinks at you for a second while your words sink in, before he sags with a light groan, bringing a hand up to scrub at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleepiness. His bushy, striped tail sways behind him before curling around his thigh. “I’m just… kind of wiped out. I was up finishing a part of a really big assessment piece and it took longer than I thought… I was going to go to bed but then I remembered that I hadn’t prepared the boys’ lunches, and I always do that, so I came down here and…”

He makes a great, sweeping gesture over the mess on the bench, a result of his patchy attention. A huff of laughter escapes him. “Yeah.”

“I’m glad you finished your piece, but… do you really have to make their lunches? I think you should probably get some sleep…”

You were a little worried he might take your words the wrong way, but you can tell from the serene expression on his face that he doesn’t. “I always do it. If I don’t, then they might worry about me, and I don’t want them to worry about me when they should spend that energy worrying about themselves. Plus, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep if I knew they weren’t done.”

You return his amused smile, taking a step closer and willing yourself to speak the idea that had come to mind.

“Well, considering I found you almost sleeping on the spot when I came down, I think you should probably call it a night and get some rest. I’d be happy to finish up and make sure the lunches are done, if you’d like?”

You can see the resistance immediately, the tall man opening his mouth to refuse—but he halts, and for a moment slips into his own thoughts. Sensing that he just needs a little push, you continue, “If you tell me what you usually make, I should be able to finish the rest of them without too much trouble.”

He blinks, and in that moment you see the rest of his exhaustion flood to the surface. He sniffles, unable to fight the yawn that rises. “… Okay. If that’s really alright with you…?”

You laugh, reaching to bump Seokjin’s side. “Of course it is. I don’t mind at all, especially if it means you’ll go to sleep in your bed and not on the kitchen floor. Now, what do you normally make…?”

Letting out a soft laugh, Seokjin does his best to stay awake long enough to instruct you on what he makes and how he makes it for the remaining members of the household. You can’t help but notice throughout his explanation that he doesn’t seem to make lunch for himself despite making it for everyone else, and as he finally plods off to bed and passes out, you make the decision that you’re going to make some lunch for him too. It takes you a brief google search on the diet of red pandas and their hybrid counterparts, as well and recalling what you know of Seokjin’s taste in food, but it doesn’t take you too long to decide on what to make. You work through the lunches one by one, grateful for the distraction, and complete the task fully when Seokjin’s sits primly next to the rest. You pile them all into the fridge, washing your hands again before grabbing the water you originally came down for, and then you’re making the trip back upstairs to your own bed, a soft smile on your face and a warm satisfaction curling around your lungs. You fall asleep easier than expected for a night where you had one of those dreams, but there most definitely aren’t any complaints to be found as you drift off with a faint smile on your lips.

The next day, it’s only a little before midday when Seokjin finally rises from his slumber and makes his way downstairs. Blearily, he reaches the kitchen and heads straight to the fridge, attempting to think through his sleep-addled brain what he should make for lunch. Those thoughts are interrupted as he catches sight of a box he hasn’t seen outside of the little tupperware cupboard by the stove in ages sitting on the middle shelf, a little paper tag with ‘for Seokjin’ scribbled onto it perched on top.

He pulls it out and places it on the bench, staring in confusion. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to kick his limbs into gear and open it, but from that point on the realisation comes quickly with the memory of last night.

You’d gone and made lunch for him, too. And from the looks of it, you’d paid great attention to what to include.

His stomach rumbles violently as he takes in the sight of berries and the bamboo shoots he usually stores in the fridge that you must have taken the time to boil and season. There is a sandwich in there as well but he doesn’t need to check whether he will like it because he can already smell the salmon.

He doesn’t know what to think, or really what to say. He knows he’s just lucky you’ve already gone to work at the Rabbit’s Den because otherwise you would probably be here and risk seeing his eyes tear up a little.

A side effect from being sleepy and stressed is the dramatics, he knows, but still… he can’t help but notice the warm feeling that lingers in his stomach when he thinks of how nice you are to do such a thing.

O—O—O

“You’re gonna love it when we get there, y/n! It’s so pretty, and there’s so much fruit… I’m going to feast.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, thoroughly enjoying the company of your two housemates and the combination of cool breeze and warm sunlight the air offers as they kiss your skin. It’s earlier in the morning than you tend to wake up, but you’ve been invited out on an exclusive adventure and you aren’t in any position to say no. For the past few weeks you’ve noticed that on a Saturday and Sunday morning, Taehyung tends to disappear. You don’t know where, and each time you saw him again you forgot to ask, but finally the opportunity had arisen for you to sate your curiosity. Happily, the lemur hybrid had informed you that there is a small section of the island towards the north that is absolutely packed with trees, bushes and otherwise, all peppered with ripe fruit. Some days he goes to tend to them, but on the weekends he confessed to you that he normally goes to harvest the literal fruits of his labour.

“Just don’t eat all of the tamarind again, Jiminie, or I will have to kill you myself.”

Jimin lets out a loud laugh, stumbling in his gait for a moment from the force of it. “Yessir! Understood, sir!”

Taehyung’s lips quirk into a smile, and he returns his gaze to the front to continue marching ahead and leading the two of you to his secret spot. You adjust your hold on the woven bag over your shoulder, brushing away some of the more unruly strands of hair that have made their way across your face by riding on the breeze.

“Thanks again for inviting me, Tae,” you say, unable to hide the skip in your step as you plod along after them, smiling brightly. “I’ve been wanting to explore more—it feels wrong that I’ve been here for a month and barely seen everything there is to see.”

Taehyung spins to flash you a beaming grin over his shoulder, ears flicking and tail curling happily. “Of course, it’s no problem! I did wonder if you’d like to come some time, so I’m glad you mentioned it the other day.”

Jimin gasps, the sound somewhere between playful and affronted. “You asked her yourself to come?! I had to beg for weeks! Weeks!”

“I told you, the fruit weren’t done when you first asked!” Taehyung whines, reaching back and pausing in his steps just long enough to whack Jimin on the shoulder. “You just didn’t listen!”

“I’m baby,” Jimin says, whether in affirmation or explanation you’re not sure. It manages to tear a laugh from Taehyung either way, and you’re no different.

You’re not left stewing in anticipation for long; before you know it you’re broaching the place that Taehyung and Jimin speak so highly of. Rounding a corner, you come across a large grove that ends beyond what your eyes can see—some trees curl and wind, others stand straight and proud with their roots covered modestly with smaller shrubbery. Vines cling and string around some trunks, but the one thing all of the flora in front of you has in common is that they’re all ripe with fruit, ready to be picked.

“Oh wow,” you remark, barely aware you’ve even said anything. A deep laugh sounds from beside you and you turn to see Taehyung grinning brightly, tail curling happily behind him and his little ears flicking with glee.

“Pretty, right? Some of these were already growing here when I found it, like the apples, but the rest of it I planted over time. I’m proud of how it’s turned out.”

“You should be!” you exclaim, pointing to the fruit displayed in the very image of temptation before you all. “Dude, they look delicious.”

“They are!” Jimin chimes in, flitting past you and snagging his finger in your sleeve as he goes to drag you along. “Come on, there’s a mulberry tree up the back and it has the juiciest berries. We have to pick them now before all the birds and fruit bats get them.”

Laughing, you allow the sugar glider hybrid to lead you into the grove of greenery, the man ducking and weaving around branches with ease as his feet follow a path well-worn into the dirt and grass. The splotches of sunlight that filter through the foliage are pleasant where they warm your skin, breeze ensuring you don’t get too hot beneath the kiss of a star. In the shadows of the trees, it is actually much cooler than you expected, but you can’t help but feel that the temperature, the air, the sights—everything feels perfect.

The mulberry tree, fondly called Ol’ Bessy as Jimin had eagerly informed you, is a large, looming monster of a tree with a plethora of winding trunks and subordinate thin branches that dangle and sway in the breeze in the image of a weeping willow. When you comment on the sheer size of it, Taehyung simply shrugs and tells you with a smile that it’s been here a long time, before anyone was on the island.

The three of you don't have much desire to waste any more time standing and dawdling, and so you begin your activity for the day, woven bags and baskets prepared and at the ready. You inspect the mulberries that are hanging lowest, spying the occasional green one but becoming easily appeased when you find bunches of ripe ones, plump and fit to burst as they weigh the thinner branches down.

Gathering them is harder than anticipated, because you hadn't accounted for the fact they they're, well, berries. It takes a few attempts and more than a few instances of stained hands before you figure out the best way to pluck them from the tree without bursting them. Taehyung saw the first one you popped and the way it went all up your arm, and hasn't stopped laughing since.

The three of you bounce between fruits and trees, filling your containers with whichever you prefer. After a while though you all seem to have the same idea to congregate at the mulberry tree. Admittedly, you hadn't been able to stop yourself from munching on some of the fruits as you picked them, but as you look at them and see berry stains around their mouths and apple leaves in their hair, you feel a little less guilty about it. Taehyung places his basket down, leaning it securely against the base of the tree trunk, before dusting his hands with a sharp clap and then resting them on his hips.

"Right," he says, eyes alight. "There's just one more tree to visit. I think you're gonna love it."

You tilt your head, wondering just what other kind of fruit he has up his sleeve when already you've picked so many. Surely he's constrained even a little bit by the climate? Or does he have magically green thumbs? Jimin giggles at your confused expression.

"How good are you at climbing trees?"

The question gives you pause. "Uh... decent? I suppose?"

"Great!" Taehyung exclaims, picking his basket back up and closing the lid to help secure it on his back. "Let's go!"

Once more you're lead in between and through the trees and shrubs, following the gleeful lemur hybrid and his grinning companion back to the middle of the grove. Before long you're stumbling to a halt, having reached the location and wondering how on earth you managed to miss this tree before.

It's bigger than Ol' Bessy by a decent margin, but confusion filters through you when you can't seem to spot any fruit hanging from its branches. You turn to Taehyung, about to question him, but he simply grins and darts over to the massive trunk (really, you don't think two of you could hug it from either side and have your fingers touch, it's so big). It's only after he begins scaling it with alarming ease that you take note of the grooves and footholds curled into the trunk, making it a naturally perfect tree for climbing. Jimin darts up after his friend, apparently also well-versed in the art of climbing this tree, and breaks you from your awed reverie with a shout over his shoulder.

"Come on, y/n! Or Tae is gonna take the good spot!"

Unsure what he means and unsure if you're willing to find out via Taehyung following through on that, you scramble to follow after them and do your best to climb.

It's easier than anticipated, actually, and dare you say it... relaxing. Though you're going higher and higher with each branch you clear, and see less of the ground and more of the canopy with each step, you can't say you're all that scared, or worried. If anything, it's as though a moment of peace has been captured in a bubble, and now settles like cool mist on a spring morning at the bottom of your chest.

In sharp contrast to the cool breeze that brushes your face as you emerge from the thickest part of the foliage, the sun is quick to kiss warmth back into your cheeks. For a moment, you have to pause in your climb, because the view around you is simply so beautiful you're at an absolute loss for words.

From here, the highest point in the grove, you can see a vast majority of the island, a sweeping panorama of lush greens and soft sands that blend into the crystalline waters of the ocean, sunlight turning the surface to a sea of diamonds. Along the stretch of beach, in the distance, you can just barely glimpse the sharehouse, and on the other side of the island the little market square where all the stores and restaurants are appears as smudges and blobs of dark colours.

"It's so beautiful, right?"

You're so immersed in your observation that for a second you almost don't even register that someone is talking to you. Mouth open in awe, you simply turn your expression to Taehyung; the lemur laughs, almost tumbling back from the force of it, and you're shocked back into the moment with worry until you see what stopped him from falling.

Here, at the very top of the tallest tree in Taehyung's secret grove, he has built a small little fixture, a deck with enough space for four people to squeeze onto it at most. It hugs the trunk of the tree and is braced on the few thick branches that split from the tree beneath it. A lot of it is untouched, natural wood, but the bottom is made of processed planks and some of the short balcony ledge has been painted with acrylics, little scenes spanning the length of the strips. You didn't know Taehyung painted, but figure you'll bring it up at another time when you aren't precariously clinging to the top of a massive tree.

Taking the hand that both men offer you, you haul yourself carefully up and onto the deck, marvelling as you get an even clearer view of the island from your new position.

"It really is," you answer him, somewhat belatedly. When the two of them settle down, tree swaying much like you imagine a ship would on the vast expanse of the ocean, you follow suit, with your back pressed securely to the trunk.

Jimin is already flinging open his container, smacking it onto the wood in front of him, and Taehyung laughs once more, the sound so freeing and light that it makes that little bubble of peace in your abdomen expand ever so slightly.

"And now, we feast!" The lemur says, eagerly opening his own basket and setting it in front of him, besides Jimin's. They're both set to overflow from the amount of fresh, ripe fruit piled in.

They shamelessly and unabashedly dig in, eliciting a laugh from you as you move your own bag before you to do the same. It's nice, the perfect lunch in more ways than one; the small amount of foliage above you offers just enough shade that you want for nothing more in the moment besides maybe a pillow or two, everything else accounted for in excess.

You're not sure how long you spend there, but you do know that the sun has made a decent amount of headway in its journey across the sky by the time the three of you are done stuffing your stomachs full, laying across the deck and squinting until the clouds swimming leisurely across the sky begin to resemble something you can put a name to. It's fun, and light, and for what is alarmingly far from the first time, you find yourself so thankful for the choices you made and the path that led you here, to be staying on this beautiful island with these lovely boys.

By time you finish and the three of you are heading back, you’ve eaten through half of the fruit and the boys are so full and sleepy from the big day that they’ve shifted into their animal forms and are now clinging to you, Taehyung with his long limbs around your neck and Jimin with his tiny paws clinging to the hair at the top of your head. You suspect he’s made himself another little nest up there, but can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him for it especially when the soft sounds and chitters he makes to communicate with Taehyung are so damn cute.

The trip back is shorter than you recall, and before you know it you’re approaching the sharehouse once more, it’s looming sides graced with the warm gleam of afternoon sun. Jimin and Taehyung are asleep as you reach the front door, and you’re saved from having to move all the bags and baskets in your hold to open the door when it opens for you. Hoseok is standing there, a startled look gracing his features that quickly blends into one of fondness as he sees his friends, something that makes your cheeks warm ever so slightly.

“Good day?” he asks, stepping back to let you in. You nod, unable to help the wide grin touching your lips.

“Yeah, it was.”

O – O – O

‘…They should be setting up a tower soon, so hopefully it won’t be long before I can call you again. But until then, I look forward to every letter you send, bubbles.

Write back soon! I miss you.

Love, Dad’

You sniffle, trying not to let out the tears that are so close to slipping from your eyes. You’re not all that upset, you love receiving letters from your father, but it’s just… a little bittersweet. You’d moved here to escape your family, following a certain incident that you’re not keen to revisit, and your father had always been and will always be supportive of you— but it’s hard, when he’s halfway across the globe on one expedition or another.

It was only in the past ten years that your father managed to snag the job of his dreams and follow the passion he’s harboured since he was a child, graduating from his career as an accountant through attention garnered from numerous big research papers to become a well-respected biologist. From the second he accepted the offer, he’d started down a path that led him spending a majority of his life outside of the home and always on the move, hopping from one destination to another.

Whenever he could, he’d take you with him, but he wasn’t always able to. This expedition, which has landed him in the Antarctic, is an example of that. While he can’t be with you physically, he writes often and calls every chance he gets—and though it saddens you sometimes when it highlights the dismal state of the rest of your family, more than anything you’re happy for him and overjoyed that after years of slaving in an office, he finally gets to do what he wants.

You inhale, closing your eyes and trying to let the breath escape in a long, level manner. It’s night, not when you normally go about reading letters from your father but this letter had come late and you’d almost completely forgotten on your way to bed. Taking the opportunity to get some fresh air, you’d taken the letter and made yourself comfortable on the balcony, using the ample moonlight as a makeshift reading lamp.

Placing the letter carefully on the table, mindful not to place it in anything dirty or unsavoury, you settle back in your chair and tilt your gaze to the skies, allowing your eyes to become unfocused and simply stare. It's a pretty sight, as you expected-- the stars are much more outgoing here, with no haze or pollution masking their display like in the city on the mainland.

You let out a breath, but even to your ears it sounds more like a sigh. You miss your dad, and you know he misses you too but despite the fact you know it's selfish of you, you kind of wish he had been here with you when you made the decision to move. Of course, you've told him all about it, and he's supported you wholly in every choice you've made, but it's not the same. You don't blame him, and you love him dearly, but still... you're allowed to be sad, just a little. Just for tonight.

Well, that had been your plan-- apparently the universe has other ideas that don't include sulking in the moonlight on your balcony. A scuffling sound disturbs your reverie from the side of your balcony, and you look over in time to see a decent blob of shadow scaling up the side of the balcony next to yours and flinging onto the railing. Once there, it halts, and your eyes adjust just in time to meet those of the creature-- the raccoon, you realise quickly. It tilts its head up, sniffling the air once, before pinning you with an unreadable look. For a moment the two of you sit in silence, locked in place by the other's gaze, before the raccoon lets out a soft noise and then it's little claws are clacking against the hollow metal railing, and it disappears beyond the wall.

Whose room is that... Jungkook's? You muse to yourself for a moment before you remember what kind of hybrid Jungkook is, and in the next second there is the sound of a door sliding shut and Jungkook's bright-eyed face pops around the side of the wall.

"Uh... are you okay?"

You blink, brain taking a moment to catch up and then decipher how he could have possibly known you were even a little bit upset. You recall suddenly that animals can pick up cues, like chemoreceptors, and tilt your head at him with a small smile.

"Yeah... no... I'm alright." You angle yourself more towards him in your chair, cheering internally when you see him stop hiding behind the wall and come to lean against the railing. "Was that you? Where were you off to, this time of night?"

Jungkook looks like he wishes to address the first thing you said, but your follow-up has thrown him a bit for a loop. You can't be sure your eyes aren't deceiving you, but you could almost swear he's blushing.

"Oh, yeah... sorry." He reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck, hair mussed and eyes averted. "I know my animal form isn't that nice... sorry if you thought it was gross."

"What?!"

At the sheer suddenness and volume of your almost-shriek, Jungkook jumps about a foot in the air. His wide eyes swing back to you, chest heaving as he rests his hand in the centre of it. You clear your throat, shrinking a bit in embarrassment.

"Sorry," you wince, before going to elaborate on your earlier squawk. "But please don't ever apologise for something like that! I don't know who told you that your animal form is gross, but they can't be all that bright... it was cute."

He looks more like a deer in headlights than the animal he's spliced with right now, eyes wide and staring right at you. You can't help but laugh and tease him, just a little. "Cutest raccoon I ever did see, anyway."

He suddenly comes back to earth, slamming his face into his hands and letting out a long groan. It's from embarrassment, you can tell from the flashes of reddened skin that peek through his fingers. You don't say anything for a moment, letting him return to the conversation on his own terms. Jungkook might be one of the housemates you've interacted with least, but you've heard plenty from the rest of the hybrids in the house.

More often than not, it's about how shy he is and how cute it is when he gets embarrassed. You'd simply nodded and laughed at the time, but now you realise there truly is merit to everything they said.

It takes a few moments of Jungkook muttering into his hands before he pulls his face away, averting his eyes and mumbling softly, "... Thanks. That's really nice of you to say."

"You're welcome," you shrug, smiling when he risks a glance your way to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing nothing that will make him turn tail and flee back into the safety of his room, he eases up, returning his body to it's previous angle towards you.

"So... why were you upset?"

Surprisingly, his question doesn't bother you as you thought it might. You hum, watching as his gaze follows yours to the table, where the letter and the envelope it came in, addressed to you, lay discarded.

"Letter from my dad," you offer in explanation, watching his eyes light in realisation. "Nothing bad, I just miss him so it's... bittersweet."

Jungkook hums, nodding and resting his chin in his hand as he leans forward. "I understand. It's like that with my parents. I know they love me, and I love them, but they're pretty far away and I just... miss them. They're always working."

You're a little surprised that he can relate, although you suppose you really shouldn't be. You don't know very much about Jungkook at all, so it's not fair of you to assume anything about him, even in relation to your own experiences.

"Yeah," you sigh, looking to the sky for a moment as you try and organise your thoughts. "I'm happy he is where he is, doing what he's doing, but I think it's okay to be sad, just for tonight."

Jungkook hums, but doesn't say anything further. It surprises you when he speaks next, the two of you having fallen into a lull.

"Well, you could keep being sad for the night if you want, or... would you maybe wanna see the film I've been working on?"

Your head whips to face him faster than the speed of light, startling him into another jump on the spot.

"Really?" you ask, hurried as though the offer will be rescinded at any moment. "You mean it? I can see it?"

"Yes...?" Jungkook answers, somewhat bewildered. You launch from your chair immediately, rubbing your hands together-- you've heard really good things from the others about his talents in photography and editing, so you've been trying to figure out a way to slip it into conversation for weeks. You've wanted to see them for yourself so badly.

"I'm coming over," you announce, gathering the letter and envelope and already beginning to move towards your room. "I hope your room is clean, Jungkook, or else I'm gonna tease you!"

You'd just meant it as a joke, but the scrambling and hurried footsteps you hear after you say it make you think he took you seriously.

Well, you dad would probably want you to spend the night happy, anyway. You can save being sad for another night.

O -- O -- O

Your time at the house has gone by much faster than you anticipated, and while initially you'd thought that you wouldn't be able to wait to get out, now you find yourself feeling quite the opposite.

You kind of don't want to leave.

At this point, about two months into your stay, you've settled into such a comfortable, stable routine that you struggle to imagine going through the motions in any other way. Often after your early shifts you'll return to the house and catch someone lounging in the sun, and you will no doubt be roped into a short, sweet afternoon nap. On the weekends is group breakfast, and you make sure that you go to bed as early as possible the nights before so that you don't miss it. Taehyung drags you with him of a weekend to fetch fruit and Jimin drags you around the town in general. Some evenings, you find yourself accompanying Namjoon on a walk along the beach, both of you feeling more at peace than ever before when you're standing with feet buried in the sand, watching dusk bleed into twilight and the colours around you stain violet and periwrinkle in the absence of the sun's kiss.

Jungkook knocks on your door at late hours, grinning and eagerly summoning you to his room to watch his latest creation. Seokjin no longer resists your help every other night to make lunches, and has started including you in the schedule as well.

Yoongi and Hoseok are among the busier residents of the house, but you've still spent bits of time with each of them, probably moreso with Hoseok. It's not that you avoid Yoongi or anything like that, it's just that he happens to be the most busy and more often than not is holed up in his room. You don't always see him throughout the week, but he always attends house breakfast on weekends and you're thankful that you get to see him then.

Today, you're spending a little more time with Hoseok. Your shift ended early and you couldn't have thanked your lucky stars any harder, because today the squirrel hybrid had invited you to his dance class. Usually Jungkook or Jimin went with him, both of them enjoying dance as much as their older housemate, but they had both been unavailable today. You'd seen the way Hoseok's face had fallen when they'd told him, and had immediately asked about the class-- you didn't even talk for more than a few minutes before Hoseok was happily inviting you to attend.

It made you a little more pleased than you're going to admit.

You're on your way there now, actually, a skip in your step and a swing in your gait. You've got the tote bag you hold your work things in, and you can hear the rustling of the nuts you'd shoved in there last minute earlier in the day. You'd noticed that Hoseok had forgotten them, so you'd grabbed them to give to him when you saw him. Hopefully he hasn't stuffed himself too full of other foods in the meantime, though from what you've heard apparently he's such a workaholic that he probably hasn't even had lunch yet despite the fact it's currently three in the afternoon.

A majority of Hoseok's classes take place at the school where he teaches, in a room at the end of the drama block that often doubles as a dance classroom when the school gets the funding for it. When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar and upbeat pop is leaking through the gap, Hoseok's sunny voice piercing through the music like a pendulum.

"--and one, two, three, one, two, three-- that's it! That's fantastic! Really good job, guys!"

A smile is already on your face as you push the door open enough to let yourself in, gaze immediately falling upon a group of grinning children that are looking up at Hoseok like they're a tiny field of sunflowers facing their namesake. Hoseok stands before them in a borderline comical pose that only primary school teachers can really pull off, hands on his hips and a proud, beaming smile on his face. You can’t help but blink because for a moment it really was as blinding as looking directly at the sun. He spots you before you can recover fully, and greets you with a wave.

“Ah, perfect! Everyone, this is Miss y/n! She’s going to be sitting in today—I told her how good you all were and she couldn’t wait to see for herself. Let’s all say hello!”

A chorus of greetings is immediately thrown at you, the attention of the little sunflowers now completely on you. Some gasp and run over, grinning brightly at the novelty of a new character, and others watch from afar but seem pleased nonetheless by your presence and alleged eagerness to see them perform.

Before they can launch into conversation with you like you can so clearly see they want to, the ears of some kids ramrod straight and alert and others’ tails flicking in excitement, Hoseok calls them back to where he stands and to your surprise they obey immediately.

“Alright, let’s let Miss y/n get settled down and we can show her what we’ve been practicing, hm? Sound good?”

There is a chorus of ‘yes!’ that pulls a laugh from you as you make your way to the side of the room with the best view and plop down, cross-legged. Eagerly and very self-consciously, now that they have an audience, the small army of children runs to take their place in the formation, and Hoseok pulls his phone from his pocket to pause the song currently playing and pull up the one that matches their routine.

The opening notes filter into the air and Hoseok nods, foot tapping to the beat, before he counts them in and off they go.

Put simply, you’re so incredibly impressed. These kids can dance! You don’t have a doubt that they can dance better than you, not that you ever claimed to have much talent in that department. By the time they finish running through their little routine, you’re clapping and cheering loudly, relishing in the laughter that you’re exaggerated reaction elicits. Hoseok, too, is smiling as he sees how you interact with his students, wandering over after he takes them through it a few more times before giving them a small break.

"So, what do you think?" he asks as he approaches your side of the room, slightly out of breath from doing the routine with them the last few times. "They're so good, aren't they? They've only been working on this for a few weeks and already they have it almost perfectly down-pat. I'm so proud of them."

He slides down the wall next to you, reaching for the bag he'd dropped there presumably before class began; across the room all the students are reaching into their class backpacks for their afternoon snack, and it seems Hoseok has the same idea. You don't even remember the nuts in your bag until he rifles through his for a few minutes, brows furrowed when he comes up empty. His bushy tail flicks dejectedly, ears twitching back on his head, and he pouts.

"Damn, I think I forgot my lunch this morning," he says, and it's enough to jog your memory. You jump in place from the startle of it.

"Oh, I saw that! Here," you quickly reach into your own bag and pull out the nuts and dried fruits, passing it over to him. "I brought it for you, since I figured you'd probably want it at some point."

The way Hoseok's eyes light up when they see the little plastic bag in your hand is almost enough to make you laugh and/or coo out loud. By the skin of your teeth you barely manage to hold that reaction back, but you do smile as he cheers with a short, happy scream and eagerly takes it from your grip.

"My nuts!" Hoseok wastes no time ripping the bag open and grabbing a handful, setting about munching immediately. "You have saved my life today, Miss y/n. I was soooo hungry."

"Didn't get lunch?" you guess, already knowing the answer and having it confirmed when Hoseok nods, completely unfazed by the fact he'd skipped a meal or two.

"I was helping one of the students," he explains, munching happily. His bushy tails curls in content behind him, a sight that makes something happy and warm settle in your chest. "I don't mind missing lunch if it means they get the help they need. I do feel it afterwards, though. Sometimes when I get home I feel so hungry I could eat the whole cupboard out."

A laugh tears from you at his words, the image even funnier because he didn't specify whether he would be doing it in his human form or his animal form. The image of a squirrel wreaking havoc in the house pantry is funnier than you care to admit, but Hoseok just seems happy to have elicited a laugh no matter the magnitude.

It's just a small thing, spending the afternoon with Hoseok and his students, but you find afterwards that it was almost... healing. On the way home, walking besides Hoseok and discussing which dried fruit were the superior dried fruit (he's wrong, and you'll take that opinion with you to the grave), you can't help but feel so light and happy. Like everything is in place, in motion and flowing smoothly. A river without debris and jagged rocks; life right now feels like that moment in nature when water runs over smooth pebbles in a creek, tumbling and pouring but doing so without chaos, and without mess or fallout. Just one continuous, fluid motion.

It feels nice.

You don't even realise until you're laying in bed that night that for a while now, that's how you've been referring to this place.

As home.

O -- O -- O

Aside from the occasional uncomfortable dream, these past few months have been remarkably incident-free, where it concerns the unfortunate topic of your extended family. You'd changed a lot of things when you'd made the decision to move to this island; your phone number, your email addresses and all your passwords, your social media... all of it had been combed through and either switched out or slimmed down. This place is an escape, a place of refuge for you, and that's how you want it to stay.

Unfortunately, the universe isn't always on your side.

It's a rainy afternoon when you receive the call, and you're so fixated on watching the way the rain falls in thin sheets over the ocean that at first from the first floor patio, that you miss it. They don't call again, but a message sets your phone off a minute or so later, and that catches your attention.

Of course, the second you read it and see who it's from, it does more than just catch your attention.

You're not someone prone to many episodes, and you've become adept at self-soothing. But as your eyes begin to stare unfocused at the message and you feel your chest constrict, diaphragm pushing against your lungs, you realise distantly that this is more than you just being momentarily overwhelmed.

You get a bit lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of light-headedness that suddenly washes over you, so much so that when a voice sounds distantly, muffled as though you're listening to someone speak to you from the depths of a pool, you barely even register it at first.

"Hey, y/n, have you seen--"

Still, your eyes are stuck on the message; you don't even notice the way your fingers had begun to tremble while holding the phone until a hand brushes your arm, a figure in front of you blocking the light from beyond the porch.

"y/n, hey, are you.... look at me. y/n, look at me."

Oh, that's a voice, and you do as it says without even a single thought flitting through your head. Looking up, you're barely even as surprised as you should be to see Yoongi standing there, a look of concern spread across his features, brows drawn together as he regards you. You feel a warm touch against your hand, phone tugged from your grip to be replaced with his own. Both your hands are now in his hold and he uses it to ground you, even if just for a moment.

"Can you do me a favour?" Yoongi says, and his voice is so soft and soothing that you find yourself listening as attentively as you can right now. "I need you to breathe with me. I'm gonna count ten breaths, okay? Let's do the first one-- in..."

He inhales deeply, his whole chest moving from the magnitude of it, and you feel as though you're floating in your own head in the moment as you follow suit. Slowly, patiently, he takes you through each breath one at a time, making sure you inhale as big as he does and exhale as long as he does. By the time you reach ten, the light-headed feeling has faded and the constriction in your chest has eased, ever so slightly. As soon as you finish your tenth breath you sag slightly, letting out a gush of air.

"Sorry," you say, slipping one of your hands from his grip to cover your face. "Sorry, I just--"

To your complete and utter surprise, Yoongi's hand lets your other one go and in the next moment you feel arms slipping around your shoulders, bringing you close to his chest and letting your face rest on his shoulder. You see his fluffy tail from where your face is squished, catching glimpses over his shoulder of the way it curls calmly.

Once the moment of shock passes, you're unable to help yourself but to return the embrace, surprised by how much you needed this without even knowing so.

"It's okay, don't apologise," Yoongi says, voice still soft and calm. You sag against him, and your eyes burn not from the message that triggered your almost anxiety-attack, but from the sheer kindness you feel emanating from this man. "Happens to the best of us. Are you feeling a little better?"

You nod, because oddly enough you are, and he slowly releases his hold on you, easing back with an assessing look. Another apology rests on the tip of your tongue but you bite it back, knowing he would refuse it if it ever entered the air.

“I am. Thanks,” you say, eyes looking for your phone as you realise suddenly that it is no longer in your hand where you’d left it. Yoongi holds it up, handing it back easily; his gaze passes over the screen as he does so, and the look he gives you is one of empathy and knowing.

“Shitty family?” he inquires, and you nod, choosing not to look at your phone and to slip it straight into your pocket instead. You go to sit against the wall, facing the edge of the patio, and he joins you.

“I get it,” he says, lifting a hand to fluff up his grey-tinted hair before shifting his gaze out to the rain and its reunion with the ocean. “’Part from my parents, the rest of my… relatives… they’re, uh… they’re not so nice. Didn’t treat me all that well, or even my parents for that matter. So… I get it. You don’t have to elaborate if you don’t wanna, but I get it.”

You don’t really know what to say to that; not that you’re speechless, per se, but moreso that there is simply so much going through your head at once that you can’t seem to settle on anything to voice.

“Thank you,” you say again, sniffling as subtly as you can as you focus on evening your breaths and calming your heart. You feel something on your hand and look over to see Yoongi has placed his palm over your own, his face soft and comforting.

“It’s no problem.”

A different kind of ache, the sort that is tinged around the edges with bittersweet warmth, begins to make itself known amongst the turmoil in your abdomen, and in this moment you can’t quite decipher whether it’s a good feeling or a bad one. What you do know, though, is that you’ve never been more thankful to have had the fortune of meeting these boys and having them make room in their hearts for you, even just a little, than you are right now.

O – O – O

You can’t believe that all the time you’ve spent here has gone so fast, and that currently there is no more than a week before your three month deadline is up and your contracted stay at this house is to come to an end.

If you’re being honest with yourself… you don’t want to go.

When you’d first come to this house, you’d expected that you would have a nice time, but also that you would be eager to move out by the end of the three month period. You had no way of knowing how well you’d fall into routine here, how attached you would become not only to the residents but to the home, the place and the feeling it offers and the way it allows you to feel happier than you have in years.

You know that you have to leave, they’d only agreed to house you for the three months after all, and you also know that they seem to have realised your time here is coming to an end as well. You’ve caught them talking amongst themselves a few times, not quite whispering but definitely conversing about something that halts as soon as they catch wind of you anywhere nearby. You get the sense that they’re unsure how to approach the topic, and you understand since it’s a bit tough for you yourself. You decide to bite the bullet and do it for them, though.

You ask them to meet you in the living area, a week before you leave, to talk. You wanted to just… officially thank them, you suppose. They’ve done a lot for you, in the time you’ve been here, whether they realise it or not. They’ve helped you settle, they’ve shown you that there really is more to life outside the misery your relatives tended to create, and they’ve ensured every second you’ve been with them that you have felt welcomed, and included.

Truthfully, it means more to you than you know how to put into words.

Which is why it’s especially difficult for you to accept that you have to leave.

The expressions on their faces as they gather are a mixture between curious and somewhat apprehensive, with Namjoon, Jungkook and Hoseok bordering on nervous. You wonder why before realising they might not know why you called them here.

“Hey, thanks for gathering,” you say, attempting to keep it light and ensure the smile stays on your face. Of course, they all return is as they take seats across the room, some on the couch and others on the coffee table or the floor. Taehyung’s head tilts, tail curling lightly behind him.

“Um, I just wanted to say something to you—to all of you, while I could. I didn’t think I’d be able to catch everyone in the one room any time but on the weekend,” you muse, smile widening at the round of light laughter your joke elicits. You shift, taking a breath and grounding yourself through the motion of meeting their gazes, one by one.

“I wanted to say thank you,” you begin, voice softer than intended but not so soft that you’re worried their senses won’t pick it up. “Because when I moved here it was to get away, and start anew, and you guys… really gave me that. You’ve made these three months the best and happiest months I’ve had in a long time. I’m so thankful that you let me in, and welcomed me into your home and even into your lives. I don’t think I can word this the way I want to but… really. Thank you, so much. I know I have to leave in a week, but—”

“Oh!”

You halt mid-spiel, wide eyes moving to Taehyung as he suddenly sits up, holding his hands out. “So that’s what you wanted to talk to us about—we actually wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

Freezing, you simply blink, mind coming up blank as to what they could possibly want to talk to you about. Namjoon clears his throat when no one else follows up after Taehyung, averting his eyes before he gathers himself and meeting your confused look. “Well, you probably noticed we’ve been talking amongst ourselves a lot lately—I mean, I know you’ve noticed because you’ve walked in on us a few times, and we’re not very good at being subtle, but—”

“We want to know if you’d like to stay here—permanently.” Taehyung cuts his friend off before he can finish, apparently no longer able to hold the question at bay. There is an expression of pure, unguarded sincerity on his face, excitement lighting in his eyes. “We all talked it out and found that we want you to stay—all of us.”

“You fit,” Yoongi says suddenly, voice still soft but loud enough for you to catch easily. He offers you a gentle smile when you look his way. “We know that if you left, the house wouldn’t be the same after… it would be missing something. You haven’t been here long, but you’re kind of already part of our family so… please don’t go, if you don’t want to.”

Some of the others are pinning Yoongi with a surprised look that you suspect is not directed at what he said, but rather the fact that he said it. You’re too busy biting your lip and trying not to cry like a baby to notice all that much.

“Is that really okay?” you ask, déjà vu washing over you as you think to yourself that again, this sounds too good to be true. “Do you guys really want me to stay?”

Immediately, there is a mixture of nods and loud ‘Yes!’s and ‘Of course!’. You really can’t hold it back, you find, because the sudden flood of warmth and affection washing over your insides is more than you know how to handle. You sniff, unable to reach the tears fast enough to prevent their fall down your face.

“Will you stay?” Yoongi asks, head tilted. Regrettably, his tenderness makes more tears fall.

“Yeah,” you manage, wiping your face furiously, “Yeah, I will. Thank you.”

And that’s all the confirmation you need before your new family is tackling you one by one, replacing your sobs with laughter and making sure you know that from now on, you don’t have to cry alone, you don’t have to be sad alone. They’re here for you.

And it feels so, so nice.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! please let me know what you think and how it made u feel, and let me know u enjoyed it by liking and reblogging! feel free to even just send me an ask screaming! thank u! i love u !

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asterroidd · 3 years

Text

sho the todorki

↬ pairing: shouto todoroki x reader

↬ synopsis: you like him, he likes you. the problem? sho's in the friend zone and so it's up to mina, the resident match maker, and company to give you guys a lil push.

alternatively: sho being a dork, hence the title

↬ warning/s: profanity lol, a lot of second hand embarrassment, two insufferable idiots, idk if this is too ooc of shouto but just take this dorky version of him

↬ note: a fic dedicated to @puredivinity that serves as a welcome gift for joining the sho simp club. luv u mara despite all the cursed images i send

Class 3-A has four unspoken rules:

Number one: never play music out loud beyond 8 pm (tried and tested by Denki himself, got blown up by Bakugo)

Number two: don't leave your room at 2 am or a certain grape pervert would harass you

Number three: refrain from mentioning crocs to Kirishima. Just don’t.

And number four: never tell you or Shouto that both of you like each other (just for the sake of entertainment)

It had become customary to not break these four rules or those who dare break it is rumored to have a thousand year duration of bad luck to be passed down generation after generation.

That said, Mina was fed up with the mutual pining you and Shouto clearly exhibit. For two years she watched both of you shy and fluster with one another. His face beet red while you a fumbling mess. Truly a sight to behold. It was like watching a romance movie in real time, but without the stupid opening track.

At first she thought it was cute, it all started one morning during her first year in U.A. You forgot your jacket that day after waking up late and thus have to rush to get on time. Aizawa would have your head if you weren't there in homeroom. So in your idiocy and frantic state, you forgot most of the essential stuff and that includes, of course, a warm jacket.

Mina watched as Shouto stared at you from across the room. With tense shoulders as his gaze constantly drift from your form to his jacket. Her mouth curled upwards, interested with the current situation. It was not every day one could see the infamous Todoroki Shouto so nervous.

She eagerly kept her attention on him, watching as Shouto got up from his seat and slowly made his way to you with shaky legs. Shouto, barely uttering a word, shoved his jacket to you and rushed back to his seat. At that moment, Mina already knew something was blossoming between you and him.

And so it basically became her life mission to make sure you and Shouto end up with one another. She made the promise two years ago, and yet here you both were, two dorks that has a crush on each other but couldn't confess even if the world ends that very moment.

Was it difficult to watch? Yes.

It took all of Mina's entire being to not push his head into yours. She knows the consequences if one breaks the fourth rule. Two years had already pass and graduation is around the corner, she refuses to accept that both of you aren't a couple. As Class 3-A's resident cupid and match maker, she is more than determined to make sure you and him both end up together. Mina would not be inherently breaking rule number four, just gonna give you guys a lil' push with the help of a friend. And that friend is one that possesses an electrification quirk.

"Okay, what do we tell (____) tomorrow?" Denki asked.

Shouto looked over his written notes one last time before nodding and giving his answer, "I'll ask them if they want to have coffee."

"Good! Make sure to?"

"I'll make sure to keep eye contact and. . ." he halted, going over his notes once more. "And make sure that I'm smiling."

Denki flashed him a grin. Clasping a hand around his shoulder and lightly patting it afterwards. "Now, don't forget the lesson I've taught you today. It is important that your date goes smoothly with (____)."

Shouto eagerly nodded, stars dancing in his eyes. His heart clamored inside his chest, beating in a quick tempo comparable to that of allegro. Sweat accumulated on his palm, in which Shouto then hastily wiped it on his shirt. Despite nervousness bubbling inside his stomach, Shouto admits that he is excited to ask you out. "Do you really think (____) and I would be a great couple?"

"Of course, dude! Right, Mina?" Denki turned to his friend. She gave him two thumbs-up, giving fuel to Shouto's confidence for tomorrow's event.

Now that Denki is done giving him an hour-long lesson about asking you out and things to do in a date, Mina was sure everything would go smooth as butter. Like, what could go wrong? Despite Shouto being a dork and foreign to the concept of love, he still has that natural charm that had some swooning for him.

Though, she spoke all too soon.

Mina facepalmed, dragging her palm across her face as Shouto stood frozen before you. She and Denki should've seen this coming.

"(____)," he started, his voice cracking at the end. Suddenly the discoloration and grime in between the cracks of the wall looks interesting. He kept looking everywhere but you.

You tilted your head to the side, "What's up, Sho?"

Heavens above, Shouto loves that nickname.

The male fiddles with the ends of his shirt, his tongue twisting and throat closing which makes it hard to speak. After class had ended, Shouto came up to you asking if he could talk to you somewhere private. He led you to the area behind the gym where no students are on sight. Well, that is except for Mina and Denki who closely followed behind to make sure Shouto wouldn't mess up his chance. The two stayed low, making sure they are well hidden behind the bush nearby.

This was now the moment; the perfect chance for Shouto to ask you out after practicing his lines over and over again. It was a simple question: ‘Do you want to have coffee with me this weekend if you are free?”

Should be easy enough right?

"I- well- uhh. . ." he scratched the area behind his ear. "D-do you maybe want to free?"

Shouto paled, he'd done messed up.

"Wait that's wrong—" he took a deep breath. "Are you coffee this weekend?"

Really? Really Shouto?

"Shit— wait! Coffee this free??"

Can someone take this lost child away?

Denki bit his inner cheek, hands tugging his hair from second hand embarrassment. He had fate on him; had fate that Shouto had rehearsed enough the night before in asking you out. Guess he was wrong.

"What do you mean by that?" you voiced out. You were beyond puzzled, unsure what to make of the situation. First he asks to speak with you in private, now he's a stuttering mess. Could it be that he's confessing? Asking you out?

Your heart quickened at the thought. You were ready to say 'yes'.

"What I mean is uhh. . ." Shouto wished he has his written notes. "Are you weekend for this coffee?"

"YES!!" you shout without thinking.

Wait, what? Hold up.

"Aight, I'm forcing these two to kiss each other." Mina announced. That’s it. She lost hope for the both of you. You and Shouto need professional help. She adjusted her position, ready to get up and intervene. That is until Denki lay a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Wait," he motioned his head to you. Mina huffed, sitting down once more.

"Sho. . ." you start, a soft smile on your face.

"Y-yes?" damn, Shouto is such a stuttering mess.

"Do you want to grab a coffee this weekend? I mean, if you are free?"

He blinked, your words slowly being registered in his brain. There was a buffer, like an old computer processing 10 kilobyte worth of data. His brain was stuck on 78% in the progress bar. Then, it dawned on him; the cogs and gears turning. It took a full minute for Shouto to understand. "I-. . .I’d love to!" he managed to stutter out.

Welp, at least that did the job. Denki and Mina released a sigh of relief. High-fiving each other despite the obvious fact that Shouto failed his task.

But hey, beggars can't be choosers. All's well, ends well.

You can't believe it.

You have a date with Shouto. THE Todoroki Shouto. The guy you've had a crush on since your first year in UA. The one that swept you right off your feet the moment you laid your eyes on him. The friend that always had your back. With him struggling to ask you earlier, could it mean that he likes you more than a friend?

You let out a squeal, pressing the pillow flush against your chest. In total, you've replayed the scene from memory for over fifty times already. You couldn't even concentrate in doing your homework. So you thought instead of doing your responsibilities, you opted to celebrate by screaming and running around your room in glee.

It wasn't everyday you'd get a douse of serotonin.

You’ve waited for this day since forever. Day dreaming about Shouto being your significant other; holding hands with him, wrapping your arms around his torso, and kissing his lips.

The thought brought forth another pterodactyl squeal from you.

Oh gods, what would you wear? Should it be casual? Semi-formal? Formal?

A wedding dress??

No one told you a date was this stressful. You groaned, prying opening your wardrobe cabinet to quickly plan out an outfit. You can’t afford to look stupid and, dare you say, cheap when you’re on a date with the most sought after male in UA.

Meanwhile, Shouto is also panicking.

“Look man, you messed up once but that’s okay!” Denki cheered him up. “Experience is the best teacher.”

“I know but. . .” Shouto took one deep breath, burying his face in his hands. “I-. . .I just froze up the moment I was in front of them.”

“And that’s normal!”

The moment you and Shouto parted ways, the male immediately went to Denki for some follow up consultation. Sure, he can fight villains face-to-face without batting an eye. Could freeze half of his enemies without a drop of sweat. Unleash an inferno of fire to defeat his oponent. Tolerate a bunch of fans shoving cameras up his face to get a close-up picture.

But Todoroki Shouto, for the love of god, couldn’t ask you out without freezing in place and become a stuttering mess.

“Lighten up man!” Denki nudged his shoulder. “Unleash the tiger inside you.”

“But I don’t have a tiger inside me. That would be anatomically incorrect.”

“Look—that’s not the—. . .what I mean is—uhh. . .nevermind. . .” the blond struggled with his words. He had to be careful with what advice he throw at Shouto. That man takes things way too literately. “What I mean is, toughen up. Have confidence on yourself. You’ll have (____) falling for you before you knew it.”

Which will be easy since (____) is a simp for him, Denki thought.

Shouto raised his fist then clenched it, determination washing over him. He gave one brief nod to his mentor (that is the personification of Pikachu).

He can do it. Todoroki Shouto could do it.

He’d go over his lines a thousand times before the date. He’d make sure he is 110% prepared before the weekend. Denki had made a dent in his schedule just to tutor him how to make you fall in love with him. Shouto wouldn’t let this go to waste.

Yes, this man is prepared and is on a mission he couldn't possibly fail.

Scratch that, Shouto’s a mess.

He pulled the end of his sleeves, his legs bouncing up and down. The male bit the inside of his cheeks, was the weather hot or was it just his insides burning up. Shouto couldn’t sleep the night before, his mind kept him up. It was like 17 browser tabs are open, with three of them frozen, and he doesn’t know where the music is coming from.

Due to the jitters getting the best of him, Shouto arrived at the agreed destination. . .two hours earlier than what was expected.

Which wasn’t a problem anyway, since you did the same.

You huffed, doubling over and placing your hands on your knees. You had ran from your house all the way to the cafe just to make sure you weren't late this time. In attempts to catch your breath, you’ve failed to notice your date standing just a few feet away from you. The minute Shouto laid his eyes on you, fire sparked deep within his heart. Someone pinch him and tell this wasn’t a dream.

“(____),” he walked close to which startled you.

“Sho! You-. . . you’re early!”

“So are you. . .”

Then silence fell between both of you. Talk about awkward. Who’s idea was it to get these two idiots in a date? If anything, both of you should’ve just left it on mutual pining and save it as a story for the grandchildren.

Shouto cleared his throat, hands scratching the back of his neck. “Well, since we’re both early. Why won’t we enter the café?”

You nodded, your voice box failing you. Inwardly, you were screaming your heart out. The embarrassment was just too much for you to handle. You doubt that Shouto would want a second date at this point.

And so you lagged behind him, keeping a feet distance away from the male. You have a hard time looking at him without making a mess for yourself. Blood rushing your cheeks, it was hard to ignore the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.

The café was quite small. A handful of potted plants hung outside, the store’s name written in calligraphy, and a few customers visible from the window. The establishment was newly built, Ochako introduced it to you about a week ago. The cheesecake they sell is to die for—it was definitely worth the hefty price.

A small chime went off as Shouto opened the door. Then it hit you; the strong smell of coffee. You were not a big fan of the beverage, but you’ve got to admit that the scent was pleasant. Without prior warning, Shouto lightly held your hand in his. His thumb gliding over the back of your hand a few times. You took in a sharp inhale, eyes widening at his gesture.

This is what they do in dates right? Shouto recalled his notes.

So this is like a DATE date?? Not a friendly date? Somebody pinch me right now, you thought.

“We should find a table,” he spoke, eyes refusing to make contact with yours. You’ve managed to stutter out an agreement, too occupied with the feeling of his hands. It was so warm—just the way you imagined it throughout the years.

You could finally die now in peace. Goodbye cruel world.

Soon enough, you and he are situated on a table near the window. Neither of you dare start a conversation, because god forbid another awkward interaction. Years worth of watching romance series could have never prepared you for such an instance. You wished you should’ve consulted some of your classmates—especially those who have experience in the topic of dating—before coming here yourself. You could try and message them, but you wondered if it would be rude to pull out your phone and ignore Shouto. No, you wouldn’t take the chance.

“Uh- So how are you, (____)?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, uhhh—. . .” how does one even speak again? “I’m doing well, I guess. . .?”

That was lame, (____). Lame.

“How about you?”

Shouto was silent, you figured he didn’t hear you so you repeated yourself once again. All the while not looking at his direction. It would be better if you don’t see his face or you’ll turn into a puddle of mess.

But seconds seem to drag to minutes, and that got you concerned.

“Sho—“ you cut yourself short, realizing that he was staring at you with a lovestruck expression. He looks at you rather softly, like how one would look at a small pet one happens to cross by while walking. The way Shouto kept his gaze at you made you insecure. Was there something on your face? Hair? Shirt? Oh gods, did you smell?

You wished that, right then and there, the earth would swallow you whole.

“Sorry I was just. . .” he faltered in his sentence, gulping down his saliva. Shouto then turned his head to the side, a blush ever so present on his cheeks as well as the tips of his ears.

"Sorry, you're just—just so cute in that outfit that I can’t help but stare."

His voice was quiet, barely a whisper but you heard it, ironically, loud and clear. Your hand found its way on your mouth, blood rushing to your cheeks as a result of his compliment.

“Tha-thank you. . .” you’ve managed to croak out, looking down and fiddling with your nails.

Just. WOW. You can’t believe it. Never once did Shouto commented on your appearance throughout the duration of your friendship with him. What he did was just. . .just so unexpected from him. You find it hard to believe yourself.

All these years, you’ve hidden your feelings for him. Trapped it inside a chest and swallowed the key yourself. Him falling for you is comparable to that of pigs flying; it was impossible to happen. Yet both of you sat there, like two dorks, a blushing mess while refusing to make eye contact with one another. For once, maybe this time, you could tell him how you feel.

“I like you. . .” you voiced out your thoughts. It took you a minute to realize what you've done. You let out a small gasp and directed your attention to Shouto. He was also looking at you, baffled. He went silent, his jaw went slack, and eyes wide open, trying to find the words to reply.

Oh boi, did you made a mistake?

“(__—“

“BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FRIEND!” Your jaw tightened, declaring it all too loudly just in case he rejects you. “I like you because you’ve been a good friend to me.”

You hope you were doing this right.

Unbeknownst to you, Shouto felt his heart break into two after hearing your added comment. His shoulders slumped down, sadness clouded his features.

“I. . .I see. . .” he muttered. “I like you too,” he said after a pregnant pause.

Your whole face lit up. Now it was your turn to look at him with a baffled expression. There was a twinkle in your eye, is this it? The moment of your life?

“Because you’re my precious friend.” Shouto plastered a smile on his face.

Oh. Welp, Mina and Denki tried.

RIP to both of you, forever pushing the other in the friend zone.

ya’ll want a bakugo version of this? (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ✧

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha #bnha #my hero academy #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mutual pining #reader insert

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forcefully-awoken · 3 years

Text

This was a request you can find here. It was meant to be a shorter 1k drabble but it ran away from me since i liked the idea so much.

Rating: E

Hizashi x F! Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings for: audio exhibitionism, dubcon, slight regular exhibitionism, piercings galore, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), as always if I missed something please let me know!

Hizashi always had such a way with words.

Ever since you’d met him way back in high school- he was so smooth talking, so very confident in himself and what he was saying that it was almost too easy to find yourself wrapped up in whatever he was saying. It’s how you now found yourself naked on the small couch that resides in the recording studio inside his home. He’s got three long fingers inside of you already, assuring you that you’ll need to be this prepared to take his cock.

He strips himself once he’s wrung two orgasms out of you already, and once you get an eyeful of how long his cock is, in all it’s pierced glory, you think two might still not be enough. He sits down on the couch, letting you straddle him with shaky legs. One of his hands holds you steady on your waist, the other lines himself up with your weeping slit. You can feel the head of him rub through your juices, nudge at your clit, causing you to jump. He rubs himself around it once, until you finally break and beg for him.

“‘Zashi, please, fuck me,” Your words trail off into a whine as he suddenly thrusts himself up into you. Your legs give out, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He uses the wiry muscles he keeps hidden in his hero outfit to manhandle you the way he wants. He bounces you up and down and you can feel the once cold mental of his piercing stimulating you. His noises are minimum, save for a couple of soft moans. You, on the other hand, can’t seem to shut up- haven’t been able to all night, not with the way Hizashi has been pleasuring you.

“Oh god, oh god, please, right there,” You babble, hands gripping onto his shoulders tightly. “You feel so good, Hizashi!”

“Call me by my hero name, baby,” He says. It throws you for a loop for a brief moment but you continue on anyways. Some heroes like that, you figure, though you’re not quite sure why.

“Present Mic!” His hero name leaves your mouth in nearly a scream, and you can see the smile on his face now. He grinds himself up into you, feeling larger than life in so many ways. You think the tip of his cock might brush your cervix, but his long, nimble fingers find your clit before you can spare too many thoughts. He rubs a circle around it one, two, three times, and then it’s all over for you. You’re cumming around him, pussy squeezing him so tightly it’s almost painful for the both of you. You keep moaning out his hero name though, just as he requested.

His fingers stop moving around your clit, though they don’t leave it yet. He waits for a moment, still buried inside of you, for you to stop trembling in his arms. Once you seem well enough to continue you he does just that, moving you down underneath him and continuing to fuck you until you’re squirting around him. Only then does he finally, finally pull out and cum himself, all over you.

Through it all you never notice the red light on the recording station.

Truth be told, you hadn’t really thought you’d hear from Hizashi again.

It’s not as if he was the type to hit it and quit it, as some might say, but you had barely spoken to him in high school. You had only occasionally spoken after it. You figured the night you spent together was just him trying to get some sort of itch out of his system, perhaps a small crush he wanted to explore but didn’t really have the time for.

It’s why his text message to you is so shocking. He’s having a party, he tells you, to celebrate the release of his new song (you hadn’t realized he had put one out recently). Not only are you invited, no he wants you to be the guest of honor! You’re not the type to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not when it comes to an infamous Present Mic party. You dutifully clear your schedule for the next day at work even, having heard enough stories to make you realize you might need to sleep it off.

The night rolls around, and you go all out when you doll yourself up for it. A nice, skin tight dress in your favorite color, heels to match. You take extra care with your makeup, though you know the lights will be too dim to truly appreciate it. Hizashi is even so nice to send a car for you, something that makes you feel truly like a celebrity. You get there with ease, grabbing a drink from the bar as soon as you arrive for some liquid courage. You don’t know a lot of the people there- or, well, anybody besides Hizashi, you realize as you look around the packed venue.

There’s posters all around with the single’s cover art. Just a woman’s lips, painted red and open in the most obscene way, with Present Mic written in cursive script on the tongue. Not your usual sort of thing, but apparently it’s Hizashi’s. You awkwardly down your first drink and are halfway through the second when he finally finds you.

“Sorry to keep you waiting little listener!” His arms wrap around you easily, like you two were the closest of friends. He pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your cheek, which you can feel heat up. “Come on, I wanted to give you a private listen first!” Something about it nagged in the back of your mind but you allowed yourself to be drug away, to the back of the venue. There’s a small private room there, what you thought at first glance might be a security booth. There was one glass wall, darkened so you couldn’t see into the room but you could easily see out.

It was almost too lush in the room for you. Despite it being in the back of what was essentially a club, it looked like it was made for sin. There was an overly large couch pushed to the back, all dark red velvet and big enough for multiple people to lay down on. The room was barely lit, and there was a stripper pole on a raised platform in the middle of it. You shot a questioning glance back to Hizashi but he just ushered you in and closed the door behind him, locking it when your back was turned.

“This is certainly fancier than the last room you had me in,” You blame the alcohol you’ve consumed for the poor phrasing of it all but if Hizashi notices anything weird he doesn’t mention it. He sits next to you on the couch, so close your bodies are pressed together- thigh to thigh, arm to arm. You can feel yourself heat up in other places when you feel his skin on yours. He’s pulling his phone out though, along with tugging a pair of little earbuds out. He offers them both to you, and without question you place them both into your ears. They block out the world immediately, until you can only hear your own breathing.

Slowly the music starts to trickle in through them, first the low rumble of the bass before a voice breaks through it. It was a female voice, distorted but still recognizable to you. The woman was screaming Present Mic over and over, and there was just enough of noise in the background to let the listener know exactly why she was screaming it.

It was your voice.

Despite the embarrassment that slammed into you like a truck, you could feel yourself growing wet between your thighs. This was apparently what Hizashi had wanted from you- to hear you in your most intimate moments so he could use it for his music. Part of you felt violated, he hadn’t even asked if you would be okay with this! You yanked one ear bud out, hearing the music out of it still. Before you could open your mouth to argue his mouth was on yours, his hands pressing you back against the couch.

Your hands come up to curl around his shoulders, trying hard to push him off of you, but his arms hold you close to him. His mouth leaves yours to kiss and suck down your neck. You can’t seem to twist away from him, not at this angle. He’s pressed you back all the way now, laying you down flat.

“Stop, Hizashi!” Your words lack bite when he sucks a hickey onto your collarbone, drawing a moan out of you as well. “This is serious! You should have asked me!” Your words seem to have no effect on him, and how could they? Your body is reacting against you, writhing underneath him, legs spreading as much as they can to accommodate him. Your hands are pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.

“Let me make it up to you, then,” He mumbles against your skin, and moves so quickly you miss what he does. He’s down between your legs in a flash, hiking your skirt up and yanking your underwear down. Your eyes dart nervously over to the glass wall but nobody seems to be looking at you. You bite your lip, lost in thought as Hizashi stares up at you. He waits, though you watch his tongue flash out to lick his lips. You push aside any of your doubts, knowing you can bring them up later. One deep inhale and you spread your legs for him.

It’s all the consent he needs, diving into your cunt like a man starved. He used his fingers to spread you open for him, pressing his lips to your clit, his tongue rolling the sensitive nub around, letting you feel the piercing as you had before. Your legs kick out in pleasure, as it runs through you like a lightning bolt. It was hard to be mad at him when he was able to draw you to orgasm so quickly. The knot that you felt forming in your stomach was already beginning to fray.

And, once he slid his tongue into you, pressing u p with that little metal ball right over your sweet spot, you’re gone. Your back arches, hands scrambling for purchase on the couch, in his hair, in your own, wherever you can grip. Distantly, you can still hear the one earbud still playing the music, but it’s unintelligible to you now. Your own moans are increasing in volume, as Hizashi doesn’t stop moving his tongue inside of you. Your hand finds its way to cover your mouth, trying to hold it all in but Hizashi doesn’t let you.

“Take your hand away from your mouth, now,” It’s a demand, and the coldest you’ve ever heard his voice. It’s intense, and sends a shiver down your spine. You hesitate to obey him, eyes flicking over again to the people just outside the room but he doesn’t back down, “Let me hear your noises. They’ll think it’s the song.” Once both your hands are tangled into his hair he returns to what he was doing, letting you grind down on his face. You feel his mouth move back up your clit, pulling it between his lips again and then there’s… a sensation of vibration. You feel the small piercing pressed up against you but it seems to be shaking, and all rational thought flees your head as it does. You can feel this orgasm rush out of you, juices covering his face, your thighs, the couch beneath you. He keeps it up until you beg for him to stop.

He barely gives you a breather, pulling his cock out before crawling over you. He grabs the back of your knees, pushing your legs forward until they meet your chest. He’s able to slide into you with no resistance, your tight heat sucking him in as he does. He grunts when he bottoms out, holding himself there for a moment before pulling back out to slam into you. He keeps this pace up for longer than you thought, pulling out so just the tip is in before splitting you open once more. You think someone might try to find him, but nobody comes looking. He continues like this, ruining you for any other man like it’s just a casual night out for him.

His fingers find your clit, his pace never faltering. As he rubs your clit you tighten impossibly more around him, finding your last orgasm of the night. He pushes himself all the way into you, feeling the way your walls squeeze and contract around him, milking his cock for everything. You cum with a screaming, hearing already how hoarse your voice has become. He moans loudly, filling you with cum. Both of you are panting by the end of it, your legs shaking in his arms.

Hizashi groans when he pulls out of you, setting your legs down gently on the couch. He goes so far as to help you into your underwear again, like that will stop the cum leaking out of you. You know you’re going to have to find some way to leave the party now, unsteady legs be damned. You push yourself up into a seated position, finally meeting his eyes to speak.

“You know, you can’t just fuck your way out of this,” Your throat is raw and scratchy as you speak, and you take a sip of your now watered down drink. The burn of the alcohol hardly helps but it makes you feel better anyways. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Didn’t want to put pressure on you,” He replies as he tucks himself away, “Wanted to hear your moans baby, alllll you.” You don’t want to admit that he has a point. Had you known he was recording you would have been quieter, more aware of how loud you were being. He takes your silence as agreement, leaning down to kiss you once more.

“How about I take you back to my place and we work on another collaboration?”

#hizashi yamada x reader #present mic smut #tw exhibitionism #hizashi yamada #hizashi yamaha smut

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reachfolk · 3 years

Note

So, about that npc ask, what's your oc's stance on serana, mikael (bard of the bannered mare), and/or frea from the skaal?

send me a skyrim npc and i’ll tell you about my dragonborn’s opinions/interactions with them (open)

wow, can u believe cozy has rambled about their own oc for too long and has to use a read more again !!

serana

tbh alexi, being a namira worshipper who is very liberal with harvesting blood and other body parts for alchemy, has no issues at all with vampires so i kinda find it hard to imagine her even bothering to join the dawnguard. but once she sees the problem getting worse and hurting innocent people (esp. in morthal), she's more likely to wanna do smthn abt it. when she gets serana out of her cage or w/e it is, she's super friendly !! like to a point where serana is overwhelmed by it at first cause she's really only ever been around.. unpleasant people. she feels almost suspicious of lexi and it's only until they get to the soul cairn and lex is still beaming with excitement at the novelty of it all that serana finally realizes "oh... she's not faking anything, she's really just like that." she kinda respects it in a way; there's something admirable in the way that alexi can be in such a solemn place and still be so full of life. her company makes the trip more tolerable.

they get a lot closer after that, because despite alexi's almost childish disposition, she was extremely mature and sympathetic when it came down to serana's personal struggle when it came to reuniting with her mother. it helps that they can kinda relate to each other RE the ungodly family issues 💀 another thing that brings them closer is the fact that alexi is super knowledgeable about a lot of the historical events that serana missed out on, and she just knows a lot about skyrim and its residents and culture, and she's always filling in serana on everything she's missed. after being away for so long, serana is super disoriented with everything, so travelling with someone as pleasant and well-educated as alexi makes things a lot less confusing.

mikael

bit complicated but at the end of the day its... mikael. when she first came into the bannered mare, she thought he was a little pushy but didn't mind him. where most people look at her forsworn armor and see a brigand or a savage, he just saw a scantily clad woman and immediately started hitting on her relentlessly. and like, alexi is no stranger to the dibellan arts (iykyk), but she's not the one night stand sort, and he's not exactly someone she'd be interested in pursuing. she's got the patience of a saint, so she never bothered to do anything about it. that is until she overheard him say something about "taming her savage heart" and "making her submit" to him. she ended up challenging him to a brawl, with the deal that if she loses, she'd have to go to dinner with him, and if he loses, he has to stop making any attempts to pursue her or even mention it. and like the thing is, alexi learned to brawl from none other than borkul the beast (it's a very long story), so she fights dirty. it was an easy match, and hulda even offered her a free room because the guests were so entertained by it. he still gets made fun of by like half the town whenever he even thinks of hitting on her again, so it never came up. she may not be super fond of him, but they'd exchange some fun banter and he's much more tolerable than he used to be.

frea

i haven't played thru the db dlc in ages so i can't say i remember everything about her, but i get the feeling that they'd have a pretty... complicated relationship. for two reasons: 1) alexi is a daedra worshipper, and while hermy isn't one of her primary deities, he's definitely on her list, ykwim? she definitely did his quest with septimus signus and has the oghma infinum in the possession of her coven. plus, i don't think the skaal are especially fond of any daedra; they just hate herma mora most, but i doubt they'd be 100% on board with lexi's religion. and 2) alexi would really sympathize with miraak, and she'd desperately want to help him rather than see him die like we see in the canon ending. even though lex realizes that what's happening with the skaal is wrong and chooses to help them, some tension grows between her and frea over those disagreements.

in spite of all of that, i do think the two would have a sort of tense friendship. they have pretty good synergy when it comes to fighting alongside each other, and alexi is a really great healer from her time studying under bothela and her coven, so she happily shares what she knows with the skaal without ever asking for them to share the details of their own closed practices to her in turn. she's a helpful person, and during her time staying with them, she definitely would do a lot to assist in whatever they may need.

#oc: alexandria silver blood #frea #skyrim #serana #tesblr #cozy writes #thanks for sending this in!! sry i rambled so much lmao but that's my brand lets be real #cozy answers

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sexy-bee-juice · 3 years

Text

“I love[d] you”

Pairing: Tsukishima x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, light mentions of smut??(i am so sorry if its bad but i’ve never written it so-), fighting [karasuno throwin hands-]

Summary: Tsukki cheats on reader, and the team finds out after you break down.

https://youtu.be/50VNCymT-Cs

heres a song to make it worse. Im sorry.

“Kei?”

“Hmm?” He said, looking up from his book.

You were both in bed, cuddling, you looking through your phone, with your boyfriend of only one year beside you. Sure, it’s only been a year, but you’ve been crushing on him since middle school. Feelings ran deep.

You smiled at him.

“I love you.” He stared at you for only a moment, then looked away blushing.

“I love you too.” Then he reached over and kissed you lightly on the forehead. “To the moon and back.”

It had been nearly four months since you had first said those words to Kei, and you were still head over heels for him.

You were the manager for the Karasuno Volleyball Club, and a third year. You were only making your way to the gym where they were practicing, skipping along, happy because the older third years were coming back to see the team.

Kageyama and Hinata were going to be ecstatic, especially Hinata. Suga, Azumane, and Sawamura were already on their way. Then your phone beeped with a message from Kei.

can’t make it to practice today, head hurts tell evryone else

You frowned. When you had left his house earlier he seemed fine... Oh well. Later you just needed to make him some of that tea you had at your house that your mother always made for you when you had a headache.

alrightyyyyy. see you after practice. i’ll tell the alums u cant make it bby! hope you feel better soon! :)

No reply. You brushed it off, as he usually did this to you. Plus his head hurt as well.

You checked the time, and jumped as you saw you were still ten minutes away from the gym, and you were supposed to be there fifteen minutes before everyone else. AHHHHHHH. Gotta rush, gotta rush, gotta rushhhhh. You thought as you ran as fast as you could to where practice was gonna be.

When you finally reached the school, you saw that Shoyo and Tobio were already there, with Shoyo bouncing around, singing whatever song he came up with, probably mere minutes before, and Tobio aggressively yelling at him, trying to pull him down.

“Hey guys! Stop that sorry Im late lets get inside and you two can start warming up before everyone else gets here oh my god I need water-” You said, out of breath and gasping, dripping in sweat.

Shoyo smiled and offered you his hand to the place where you had fallen on the ground.

“Hey! No worries y/n-Chan! I have some water for you here! Well, it was supposed to be for me, but you can have cuz I don't need it and I’m sure I can get someone else to share with me!” You smiled up gratefully at Shoyo, and took his extended hand, pulling yourself up.

An instant sense of cool relief flowed over you as you swallowed down the chilling water. God, you couldn’t have asked to be the manager for a better team.

Soon, the rest of the team began to minnow in, laughing and talking, carefree as usual, until (as expected) Shoyo nearly jumped on Tobio after giving the loudest screech ever.

“Jeez, what happened? GET OFF ME YOU RUNT! SCRUB! IDIOT! I SWEAR I’LL-” The words died in his throat as he saw who has just entered the gym.

“AH! SUGA-SAN! AZUMANE-SENPAI! CAPTAIN! NOYA-SANNNNNN! TANAKA-SENPAI!!!!” You smiled, looking back to the alums of Karasuno.

“AHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SHOYOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bellowed Noya as he jumped over to Shoyo, Tanaka at his heels.

“BROOOOOOOO WE MISSED YOU!” said Tanaka, tackling both Tobio and Shoyo in a hug, lifting them both off the floor.

“HEY GERROF!” said Tobio, muffled by his jacket.

You walked up to the older alums, smiling greetings and welcomes.

“So? How’s things with you all?” You asked.

“Ehhh, same old, same old. How you managing...as...manager-? I- wait-” stutters Azumane.

“No, no, its fine. These two still fight and bicker but they’re easy to manage nowadays.”

“oh? Jeez, y/n-Chan, you have it easy.” Said Suga. “When I was still here as a third-year, it was definitely harder to manage them, and the rest of the team...”

You smiled, happy to see them, and continued watching the four freaks reunite.

“I miss my children...” You heard Suga murmur, barely discernable from the now probably-not-human-noises the four were making. Daichi and Azumane were trying their best not to burst out laughing behind Suga, who was wistfully staring at his “children”.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Daichi-san asked you the one thing you forgot to tell them.

“So...where’s Tsukishima?” He asked, looking around as if your boyfriend were hiding. As if he would do something so childish.

“oh! Yeah, I forgot to tell you all. He said to tell you all. He said he had to skip today because his head was hurting.”

“Ah, yes. The head pain. An unfortunate enemy.” said Tanaka-san, looking up from the place he was wrestling with the team. You giggled.

“Well, when Kiyoko-senpai arrives i think i might leave for a bit to take care of Kei, then i’ll come back, just letting you guys know, so don’t-”

“SHIMIZU-SENPAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII” You heard Noya and Tanaka yell simultaneously.

“And that’s my cue-” You said swiveling to the door, and sprinting back to the Tsukishima residence.

As the door was always open for you, you didn’t even bother knocking, but entered right away. Nobody seemed to be home either.

As you silently made your way to your boyfriends room, you saw that you were pretty much already a significant part of their lives. They had pictures of you with them all, framed. Sticky notes with reminders for you on the fridge. You even had a spot at the table with them, for the nights you stayed for dinner.

Truly, this was your home.

https://youtu.be/Mhj15W23IjA [more pain, you masochist’s]

You smiled softly as you made your way to his bedroom, humming along the way, so any other sound went unnoticed by you.

As you reached his door, you smiled at the little dino sticker he had stuck there at the beginning of your relationship. It was worn, but it still stuck there, serving as a reminder.

“It’s so you don’t get lost when you need to find me in the house. It shouldn’t be hard, but knowing you, you can go out for milk then buy a swimming pool.” You smiled as he smacked it on, and he turned the knob to his door, permitting you to enter.

You turned the knob.

“Tsukki? I know I should have come earlier or something but could you help me with-”

“Idiot. Just get in here. I couldn’t care less anyways, what? Can’t solve a simple question?”

“Tsukiiiiiiii, stop being so meaaaannnn.” he smirked at you.

“Don’t call me that.” you blinked up at him.

“uhhhh...call you what?”

“Tsukki. Don’t call me that.”

“oh. um. ok then.”

“call me Kei.”

you smiled up at him, tears swimming in your eyes.

You cracked open the door.

“Y/n?” He opened the door to his room, the dinosaur sticker still on it, only a couple months old.

“Yuppers.” he tilted your face up to him with his thumb and forefinger. “I-oh.”

Then he leaned down and kissed you ever so softly on your lips, eyes fluttering shut.

“I want you to stay with me forever...” He whispered.

“I will.” He smiled.

“Then I will too”

And you opened the door, smiling to yourself due to all the memories you made in this very spot.

Then your eyes widened.

no.

NO.

NO...

It can’t be real...

Kei would never.

but he.... he did.

And he didn’t even notice you open the door, he didn’t even see you or hear the gasp you let out as you took in what you saw. He only looked up from the girl he was fucking in front of him, sweaty and panting, bites and scratches over his back and on his neck, when you slammed the door.

No tears ran down your face, like most people. You just ran back to the gym, not even really getting tired just...numb.

he promised. He promised to be yours forever.

but he must have crossed his fingers. done something stupid. because he lied. he wasn’t ever soley yours. he wasn’t, he couldn’t be.

But still. You couldn’t cry.

1) You don’t cry. You never cried.

2)You couldn’t let anyone see you weren’t ok.

Fake it ‘till you make it.

“WAIT. Y/N! WAIT, WAIT WAIT, DON’T GO!” But why would you listen?

Everything went by in a blur. you were minutes away from the gym.

Minutes away from safety.

Then you could hide behind a mask and never let anyone see.

“Oh, hey y/n-Chan! That was kinda quick.” Said Daichi. You inhaled, pushing everything away.

You giggled.

“Uh, yeah. Kei had his mom there so I left it up to her, plus he told me to get back to practice.” He smiled.

“Glad to hear he’s doing alright.” You smiled back.

“Yeah. Anyways. Anything happen while I was gone?” He shook his hed.

“Just the usual. Noya and Tanaka with the freak twins are in a two-on-two, trying to kill each other, and Suga and Asahi are kinda trying to stop the death part.”

“Ah. I see. The norm then.”

“Y/n!” You froze.

NO. nononono not now.

Why would he do this if he never really cared?

“Oh, hey look! Its Tsukishima!” Said Daichi, a smile still on his face.

But rather than running towards him, like you usually would, you ran away. Right into the gym, and...

Right into Suga’s arms.

“Hey, slow down a bit or you might be worse than Noya and knock me over!” He smiled at you. But he was just too intuitive for his own good, damn it, and his smile fell immediately.

“Is something the matter?” You composed your expression, smacking a smile back onto your face, and as you opened your mouth to say all was fine, you were cut off.

“Y/n! no no no I can explain!” You looked at Suga. Fear in your eyes. Did he figure it out? But you didn’t want to look at Kei right now. You couldn’t.

“y/n? What happened?” You looked back up at him.

“...Nothing. I’m fine.”

“No! Y/n! You don’t understand! I love you! And only you!”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

Because that’s what broke you.

And soon you had squirmed out from Suga’s grasp and fallen onto the floor, sobbing. You never cried. But if you didn’t just this once, you might have exploded.

“Y/n?! What-?”

Then suddenly the whole team was surrounding. You, some of them kneeeling down to your height.

“...y/n? W-what happened?” Asked Yamaguchi. You looked up at him, tears still streaking down your face.

“I-It was...I don’t-”

“Y/n! Y/n, please listen! Please, please, please I’m begging you!” Called Kei as he finally reached the doors to the gym, panting and gasping.

“Why would I listen to you? H-How am I supposed to believe anything you say anymore?”

At this, he reeled back, your words finally hitting him.

But before anyone moved, Daichi looked between both of you, and crouched down beside you. And so softly, he whispered:

“Did he...Please don’t tell me he did...? He cheated...?” You nodded and started to sob harder, and soon you were wrapped up in his embrace, while he petted the back of your head, whispering consoltations into your ear.

Unfortunately for Kei, the whole team heard.

“He did what to you?” Asked Noya, staring right at you, a stone cold expression on his face.

“He cheated on her.” Said Daichi, looking between you and Tsukki. “Tsukishima cheated on y/n.”

“And in the next moment, before anyone could react, Suga was standing right in front of Tsukki, glaring at him with the most terrifying expression on his face anyone has ever seen.

“You did what?”

“I- I c-cheat-” But before Tsukki could finish sentence, Suga had punched him right in the face.

“HOW COULD YOU?!?! WHY WOULD YOU EVER DO THAT TO ANYONE?!?” He screamed, tears now streaming down his face. “SHE LOVED YOU WITH ALL HER HEART AND LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER!” He pointed to you and Daichi.

“I-I didn’t m-mean to-” Stuttered Tsukki, eyes blown wide in fear, tears prickling in the corner, so close to spilling over.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER! LOOK WHAT YOU DID!” It looked like he was ready to land another punch across his face before Noya and Tanaka were there holding him back, and began to bring him back to where you were, still screaming at Tsukishima, tears likewise streaming down his face.

“Hold her.” Ordered Daichi, looking at Suga, who nodded and cradled you, still shaking.

“Hey, hey, calm down, I’m here, i’m here...”

This time Noya and Hinata were standing right in front of the boy who so towered over them.

“I don’t want you to come near her for a while. I don’t want to look at you anymore.” Said Noya, serious as ever. Tsukishima nodded.

As he looked to Hinata, he realized that tears were pricking the corners of his eyes, and he looked mad. Really mad. Then suddenly, he was on the ground, a sharp pain in his back.

Hinata had pushed him. He looked down at him, and shook his head, as if saying no.

But he didn’t say anything, and just walked away.

But, why? Why didn’t he yell? Why didn’t he scream? Why was he so... SO DAMN QUIET?!

Before Noya could do anything, as he was expected to do, Tanaka was there, herding them both away, and completely ignoring Tsukishima. Whatever they were doing, it made it worse.

Azumane couldn’t even go near Tsukishima.

Not only because he didn’t want to be near him, but because he was afraid. Not afraid of Tsukishima, no.

He was afraid because he might lose control. He might hurt him.

Then Daichi was there.

“I don’t want you to even come near her until she’s ready to talk to you. Do you understand me?” He nodded. Daichi glared at him for a minute that could have been an hour, a moment completely suspended in time.

“Then get out of here.” And Tsukishima scrabbled to his feet, not once looking away from Daichi until he was completely up on his feet. Only then did he let the tears fall.

You were gone now. And look what he did.

As he ran away from the Gym, you thought it was laughter you heard coming from Tsukishima, when really, he was sobbing.

You kept listening even as his cries echoed through the clearing, and even when they were gone.

“I loved you, Tsukishima.” You whispered.

a/n: Makin myself cry here

#tsukishima x reader #yamaguchi x reader #karasuno #karasuno x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #Kei Tsukishima #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima oneshot #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei

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rhmg-au · 4 years

Text

“’Ello- Oh-!”

As the cyborg stepped in, he was greeted by the worried stare of the doctor. He was mostly surprised to see the General being in the same room. He fully lets himself in and shuts the door.

“General sir!” Green gave a quick salute.

“Green.” Galeforce acknowledges. His voice was stern, but there was hints of concern. “Dr. V told me there was something wrong so I came here as fast as I could.”

“A-A-Ah-! I h-hope I wasn’t cutting off something i-important-!” Green apologized but then Dr. V intervened.

“Green, your stuttering is getting worse. Time is of essence. I will perform diagnostic on you so you go to other room, da?” She said, pointing at a door that leads to another part of the lab. “You wait there while I get ready, understood?”

“Y-Yes, doct-t-teerr-” Green walked off into the other room, occasionally shaking his head to brush off a jolt of pain. Once the door closed, his two “creators” were left alone.

“...Code Red Light, is it?”

Dr. V nodded and showed Galeforce the notes on her clipboard. “He’s responding negatively to certain phrases and sights, as I told before Green came in. What I worry most is the worst spike when he responded...or should I say, questioned the name....Right.”

The General clenched his fist, “He’s remembering.” He said coldly.

“That might be the case.”

“I thought you said you’ve wiped off everything within his memories. There should be no way he could remember if done so.” Galeforce seemed mad at Dr. V, but she shrugged in response.

She adjusted her glasses before she continues, “It is true that I have wiped all memories, but with this incident, we gain insight of his deeper state of memory. Deeper than the surface memories, which was more or less completely wiped off.” She flipped her notes, revealing a diagram, looking like layers. “Green, despite passing prior tests, is still in constant development and in a sense, we’ve only scratched the surface. We are here and there are possibilities of deeper layers.”

Galeforce fiddled with his goatee while Dr. V explained the schemes, “Is it not possible to delete everything in one go? To the roots?”

Dr. V shook her head, “Breaching one’s memories isn’t easy sir. All we can do now is observe, test and react one step at a time. With the current issue, what we could do is block off specific things in his memory - like a blacklist in his database.” She flipped the notes back to first page. “Which include the memories of Reginald Copperbottom and reacting to Right.”

“Will this guarantee in fewer incidents like this?”

“It should be so.” She got some work gloves on. “After I rewire these blacklist commands, we still need to put him on another test to see if he complies to these commands. That should not be problem for you, da?”

The General pulled off a smirk as he pulled out a controller, “Not at all, doctor.”

“Well then.” The doctor grabbed her clipboard once again and walked to the door leading to the other room. “We must not waste any time. If he reverts we are done for.”

A quick nod and the two entered.

(TW for restraints, a distressed Green, mind control, memory wiping and hoo boy :])

Green whistled a little tune to keep him distracted from the constant buzzing in his cybernetics as he dangled his feet over the edge of the medical bed. He pondered on what Galeforce and Dr. V was discussing on the other side, hoping whatever his issue is isn’t too serious or anything. (Besides, he might miss game night with the gang!)

His little whistling was cut off when the two entered the room. He gave them a sincere smile as a welcome.

“Hello Green, sorry to keep you waiting, boy.” Galeforce tipped his hat in apology but Green shook his head.

“No worries sir! I didn’t wait for long anyways, so alls good!” Green said cheerfully, gaining a small chuckle from Galeforce. “So...m-my issue? Should I u-uh, lay down or something-?”

Dr. V shook her head and instead points to a chair. “I will run diagnostic on system first so you sit and I will link to computer.” Green gladly followed her instructions and insisted on connecting the cables and wires himself. He had went through many of these diagnostics he had the wires practically on memory. “Good, now stay still while I check.” She said as she sat by her computers and booting them all up.

Galeforce took a seat facing Green and again was greeted with his smile, “Green my boy, I heard you went on with the scheduled training without my permission, is that true?”

Green gawked and hung his head, “Th-That is t-t-t-true, General....Sorry, I probably wouldn’t end up l-like this if I didn’t....”

“No no, what is happening is not your fault. Your systems are fairly new so there should be glitches that we missed. But not to worry, Dr. V here will fix you as good as new, okay?” A sweet reassuring smile. Galeforce then turns towards Dr. V, “Are the diagnostics up?” His hands gave out a particular signal, which the doctor nodded to.

“The primary system diagnostics are completed and there doesn’t seem to be anything out of the regular. I suggest we try a full database scanning in case problem resides there and run several tests.” Her fingers swiftly typed in commands after commands before eventually doing the database scan. A bright red was reflected from her glasses as she curled up a small smile, “There we go.”

Green tilted his head slightly before noticing the red reflection, “Oh no! Is it b-b-bad, doctor?”

“We found the culprit. Seems to be several files within you mem-...mm..optics files.” She corrected herself before any slip ups. “You said you seeing things and glitching, yes? Well, seems like there are some bad file readings in your optical codes and what nots.” Lie. Lie it off. “I can try to fix it, but I will need to run a few....gimmicks testing to make sure. Are you okay with that, Green?”

“Sure! Just like usual!”

“Good. Now....” She began typing again. She started with a good memory file to be played on Green’s visions. A memory of Charles. “Green, I want you to tell me what you see or think right now.”

Green blinked before focusing on the vision being played out, “Oh! It’s Charlie!! Yeah, this is when I beat him and the Twins in Mario Kart! Haha! Love that defeated look of his!” He blinked and the vision stopped, “Aw.”

Dr. V continues to play out several memory files to bait him, before signaling Galeforce to step in. The General nods and scoots his seat closer to Green.

“Everything good?”

“Yes sir~!” Green chirped as a memory of him cradling one of the soldier’s pet cat was being played out. “Funny fuzzy friend is on my visions now!”

And comes the trick question.

“That’s good. Anyways, I have a question for you, Right Hand Man.”

“Yes?”

Silence.

“Odd. I didn’t call your name, Green. You responded to the name Right.”

That’s when Green’s cybernetic eye starts to glitch once more....followed by a sudden distressed look on his human eye. “I-- W-Wait-- But I---” The stutters and glitches came back.

Galeforce’s assuring aura drops into a cold stare at the sight of the cyborg glitching. “Have you forgotten your own name...that you’re responding to another? The one we once told was wrong?”

“N-No sss-sir I-- That n-name sound-- ffff-amiliar-- I-”

There it is.

“Dr. V. Get to it. And while you’re at it, get rid of Copperbottom’s files as well.” Galeforce stood up from his seat and ordered.

“Wh--at-?”

“Yes sir.” She quickly entered termination codes and sent them to the two problematic memory files. The first to go was the name file as the progress window popped up. The termination was slow....and painful on Green’s behalf.

Green held his head and whimpered as the file was slowly deleted. Luckily, he did not struggle too much and before he knows it, the file was deleted off his database.

But that was not the last.

Once FILE:RIGHT.mem was deleted....it was FILE:RC.mem on the progress window. Reginald’s files.

That struck an immediate hard blow onto Green’s cybernetics as he screamed in agony, as if refusing for the files to be deleted. He struggled and tries to stand up before Galeforce grabs him and shoves him back to the seat and restraints locking him in place. The progress was painfully slow as the system seemed to be resisting the termination commands. Like a war playing out within Green’s mind. Tears flowed freely through his cheek with the overwhelming pain in his head.

“WHAT’S...W-W-W-WHAT”S HHHHAPPENINGGGGG--?!?!?” He tried to focus on Galeforce, who stood coldly in front of him. “GGGENERAL-- WH-WHAT’S HAPPENING T-TO ME--?! I-IT-- M-MY HEAD--!!”

“There is nothing to fear, Green. Relax. We are merely fixing you.”

“B-BUT--! YOU---” His cybernetic eye flashed the dreadful red for a split second, but that was enough to make Galeforce put on his death glare. “YOU CAN’T DDDDDDDDDELETE---!!!”

“He is remembering. The system is trying to fight back the commands. The deleting progress is stuck on 34%.” Dr. V reported, trying to retain her calm demeanor despite Green now showing signs of reverting to Right. “What do we do now, General?”

“What else?” He looked at the doctor dead in the eye. “Add more commands. It’s about time we rewire him into the perfect weapon.”

On command, more aggressive codes were inputted and soon the progress bar increases - much to Green’s inconvenience. His struggles became more frantic with every percentage of deletion. But as the progress bar nears completion, he weakens in his struggles.

“P-Please--!”

78%

“I d-don’t-”

85%

“N-No--”

98%

“I-” Green’s vision starts to blur out, as he could only make out the faint looks of The General and Dr. V standing in front of him.

“Hush now Green.”

98%

“This is for your and our own good.”

98%

“N...” His visions starts to glitch out.

99%

“Sweet dreams, Green.”

100%

> FILE:RIGHT.mem successfully deleted.

> FILE:RC.mem successfully deleted.

> COMMAND:Recalibrate Memory File Order

> COMMAND:Update System Commands

> COMMAND:Update Firewall

> COMMAND:Run System Diagnostic

> COMMAND:Run Full System Scan

> COMMAND:Reboot PRJ_GREEN.exe

> COMMAND:Update PROJECT GREEN Database

[ PROJECT GREEN DATABASE HAS BEEN UPDATED ]

[ Green is unavailable for asks until further notice ]

[ SIGNOUT:GALEFORCE ]

[ SIGNOUT:VINSCHPINSILSTIEN ]

#CHANGE LOG - [ 01 ]

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thedevildomdaily · 3 years

Text

Demonic Possessions Ch 9: Love Advice & Interior Design

Note: Here’s the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

I decided to make this chapter with more light banter and fun interactions and give the nephilim brothers some attention.

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW implied, light stuff this time ********************************

A couple weeks had passed. Construction on the attic was nearly complete. Lucifer and Azriel had negotiated a schedule in which the nephilim brothers would work on the attic bedroom for their sister. This helped avoid chaotic mornings, at least where the nephilim were concerned.

The overall mood of The House of Lamentation had shifted from the unease of having a new occupant amongst the Brothers and Lilly, to an odd sense of which the brothers had never experienced before. A shift in their dynamic as a family twisted due to a certain blossoming relationship.

Leviathan had become more outgoing and less reluctant in participating in events. He was more welcoming of everyone hanging around his room as well and his mood was less-likely to sour thanks to Lena. His brothers were happy for him, but it was an unusual experience for them as well. It was hard to ever find the two of them apart from each other.

“Thank you for doing my nails Asmo!” Lena chimed, “Your skills are amazing!”

Asmo grinned with brimming confidence, “Of course they are Leee-na. I’m an absolute master with nail art.”

“He’s also the best hair stylist.” Lilly chimed.

Asmodeus’s room had transformed into a spa for the two female residents and himself. The human was laying on his bed with a face mask and cucumbers over her eyes as her toe nails dried. Her hair was in a towel and she was completely relaxed as she sipped on her mimosa.

The nephilim had a peel on her face as she sat in a lavish chair while the demon painted a cute black cat on her accent nail. She too had her fill of mimosas as they relaxed from a week of cramming for a chapter test in alchemy. The math involved was exhausting, but she’d probably do well enough.

“Your brother is almost as bad as my old man when it comes to studying. I’m doing my best to be civil about it, but it’s getting on my nerves…”

Asmo gave a dramatic sigh, “If you think he’s bad now, wait until midterms. It’s a boot camp nightmare.” He then exchanged looks with Lilly as she peeked at them from her cucumber. He was underselling Lucifer’s regime.

“You know….” Asmo began with a sly voice, “I’m surprised Levi isn’t in here to get his nails painted…” Lena knew he was just baiting her at the mention of his brother. He wanted to open a dialogue to gossip about their relationship.

Shrugging, “I offered an invitation but Levi’s nails are still great from the last time you painted them. He’s also really engaged in a super hard game. The last time I saw him, Beel and Belphie were watching him battle a boss. It was getting intense in there…” It was also extremely cute, she thought.

“I’m just saying, given the fact that he’s the Avatar of Envy, I figured Levi to be a little more possessive and be following you around a lot more.” his younger brother admitted.

“Not gonna lie…” Lilly added, “I kinda anticipated that myself.” The brothers were all very possessive and it was easy to picture any one of them being like that. Well, Lucifer excluded. He was too damn cocky to believe anyone would stray from him ever.

Lena thought about it for a moment, ‘Well, I took your collective advice and talked directly with him when we went on that first date. I laid it all out for him: I’m not being held down to any single relationship. And in a kinder manner, that I basically don’t want to deal with jealousy. I’ve given up on monogamy….” he chuckled for a moment, “He actually compared me to you Asmo, and then asked if I wanted to start a reverse harem...and ya know what, I kinda like that idea haha!”

The other two blinked for a moment and joined in the laughter. “Pffft, that’s definitely a Levi-type of conclusion…” Lilly chuckled. She peeled the cucumbers off and ate them as she sat up. “It looks like you guys reached an amicable agreement then?”

The nephilim looked upward, clearly thinking about it for a moment. “We have. He agreed to an open relationship and to not be overly clingy with me. It’s beneficial to the both of u-”

“BOTH!?” Asmodeus interrupted, “Please explain!!?! Has my big, nerdy brother been hiding some secret affairs over these past few centuries?!” Why would it benefit the both of them, when only one of them has even been in multiple relationships?

“Oh, it’s quite simple really,” Lena chuckled, “His 2D waifus. I won’t ever complain about them or come between him and his fandom and I can have relationships with others as well. Besides, we’re immortal beings...forever is a realistic timeframe for us...why cling to each until we both become miserable? Monogamy hasn’t ever worked for any immortals I know...what about you?” Of course she was asking Asmo as he finished her last nail.

The demon shook his head as he released her hand and got his DDD ready to take pictures of his work for the gram. “Not that I’ve ever paid attention to it, I really can’t think of anyone...even angels drift apart and take loooooong breaks.”

“Well that’s a bit depressing….” Lilly mumbled.

“Oh, Lilly dear...don’t get depressed about it. It’s the beauty of humanity. You guys are far more capable of having a one, true love...not that you have to stick to it. It’s a valid option though.” She didn’t mean to depress the human. In her very long life, Lena had been in 100+ year relationships with various long-lived beings and it never seemed to work out. She was now trying this open relationship thing so that she didn’t feel tied-down or tired. She didn’t want anyone she was with to feel that way either.

“It’s all good. I was teasing for the most part.” Lilly smiled, “There’s only so many ways a person can spice things up and keep their relationship fresh; I’m sure an immortal couple could really struggle after a few centuries. It’s that case in my favorite vampire novel series anyways…”

Asmo didn’t comment on the matter. He couldn’t relate since he was loved by all and could charm anyone he wanted. He never for a moment considered a relationship because he could never love anyone more than himself.

“So, since you’ve found a way for things to work, have you guys……?” He smirked at the nephilim.

“ASMO!” Lily shouted. He merely chuckled.

“It’s none of your business…” Lena responded.

“That would be a solid ‘No’ then.” He quibbed. Lilly exchanged a look with him and nodded.

“Y’all are both horrible! It’s hard given he’s so reclusive and nervous. But also very cute….NO! I’m not talking with you guys about this, especially you Asmo. I’m not giving you any ammo to blackmail Levi…” She paused for a moment and contemplated, “I know he’s shy. But I also….”

“Also what?” Lilly blinked.

“I don’t know how to approach him. I’ve never been with a demon. Are you guys...very different for other beings?”

“Oh, you wanna see? Hmmmm?” Asmo teased. Or was he?

“Stop it!” Lilly smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Lena. You’re gonna have to make the first moves on Levi. Good news is there won’t be much effort you’d have to put into seducing him. It’s just finding the opportune moment when you’re feeling it.”

The girls both stared at Asmodeus for a moment.

“What? Is there something on my gorgeous face?” He immediately felt his pale, rosey cheeks.

“No, you’re just being surprisingly perceptive and giving profound advice on the matter.” Lilly said, “Lena should definitely wait until she feels right before taking the move. Like you said girl, you’ve got eternity. Take your time. Levi is a great guy and I know he’d never pressure you...”

Lena smiled and looked-up while thinking about him. “Yeah, he’s great. Special. I have so much fun with him. It’s nice to have someone interested in the same nerdy stuff as I am and not being picked-on about it 24/7.” Her last relationship went down like that. “When he blushes simply by me taking his hand, or how shocked he gets when I sneak behind him and wrap my arms around his waist...oooh... He’s too cute!!!!”

The nephilim squealed and shut her eyes hard thinking about her Levi-kun and the other two just laughed at her. Her responses to his cuteness just didn’t match her aesthetic at all and they found it hilarious to watch.

"Oh.." Lilly chimed in again, "They're 'normal' I guess."

Lena and Asmo blinked at the human for a moment.

"You asked if they were, ya know, compatible. I've had the horror of accidentally entering the men's bath when we went on a trip to a demonic hotspring before...I wanted to shove hot pokers in my eyes..." Lilly cringed.

"Oh, that's right! Lilly got to see me in all of my glory...jealous?" Asmo grinned.

The trio laughed and picked on each other all afternoon.

****************************

“Okay, we need a few more pieces of paneling. I want some nice filigree border work.” Azriel said to himself out loud as he took a step back to look at the progress made on his sister’s room.

Zak stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, as he watched his brother pace across the room. “Hey bro. It’s looking good. You really outdid yourself this time.” His siblings were super artsy, creative types. He couldn’t keep up with them on that. Instead, the middle sibling put any creativity into vehicle design and engineering. “Let’s take a break and go to Hell’s Kitchen for lunch. Then when we get back, you can spot anything else we need to do….”

“You do have a point. Let’s eat and come back with a new perspective…”

**************************

The nephilim brothers went for lunch, meeting up with Beelzabub and Belphegor. The twins were in the back corner, where the owner often put them so they weren’t a distraction for the other customers.

Belphegor had his arms folded on the table, propping his head up as he watched Beel chow down on ten burgers.

“Hey guys, can we join you?” Zak asked when he approached the demons.

“Sh--rr” Beel nodded as he wadded another large bite of food. Zak could have sworn the demon’s jaw had unhinged to take such a huge bite.

Azriel took a seat next to Beel. The two of them were the same height, though Azriel was much thinner, with more of a swimmer’s body then a body-builder’s. Zak sat by a groggy Belphie. They too, were the same height but different build. Zak liked to work out when he wasn’t working on a new engine.

“You guys about to finish remodeling?” Belphie asked with a yawn at the end, “I’m curious what you’ve done to my old...space.” Was it a bedroom or a prison? He didn’t know quite how to label the attic Lucifer kept him in.

Azri gave a pleasant smile, “Yes. It’s all coming along smoothly. Lena will be thrilled with it. It’s a touch of old european with her beloved gothic asethetic. She might not like the light-colored flooring, but it makes the space look bigger…” he went off into deep thought for a moment. Then, he saw some green in the corner of his eye and smiled, “excuse me for a moment…”

“Sorry, I swear Azri has ADHD or something...don’t mind him. ‘Creative Genius’ at work 24/7” Zak chuckled and looked at the menu.

“S’okay.” Belphie nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. “Sounds like you’ve had a lot of things to do. It’s nice putting in that effort for your little sibling.”

The twins and Zaksalamel chatted and ate their lunch, nearly forgetting that the elder nephilim had even came to Hell’s Kitchen. When he finally returned, there was an empty plate left at his spot.

“You shouldn’t have ordered and left when sitting by Beel…” Belphegor responded after seeing the shocked expression on Azri’s face. “Your food didn’t stand a chance...and apparently the napkin…”

“S-sorry….” Beel scratched the back of his head.

After a moment of silence, Azriel sighed, “it’s okay. That one was definitely on me….”

Zak noticed his brother’s cheeks get a little rosy. His mind was elsewhere clearly. What was he up to. “Hey, Devildom to Azriel...where’d you disappear to?”

“Oh, forgive my rudeness..again.” He suddenly returned to the conversation. “I just happened to see someone I know and asked for their opinion about the flooring choice…”

“Mmmh-hmmm…” Zak’s eyes narrowed at his brother, knowing there was something else to it. Azriel’s voice tone was suspicious. He’d leave it alone for now.

“So, anyways, I made the right decision, and I think we will be finished with everything in 2 days.” Azri clapped his hands together, chipper with the apparent results of the consultation he’d just had. “Beel, if you’d like to make it up to me for eating my highly-anticipated lunch, could you help carry furniture upstairs? You must be very careful…Lena is going to flip out when she sees it!”

As the four of them returned to the House of Lamentation together, Beel and Belphie walked some space behind the nephilim.

“They sure seem to care a lot about their sister to spend so much time on this room. I don’t think it was that bad..” Belphegor said quietly.

‘True. But, we’d do the same thing for our sister too. And that means Lilly as well…” Beelzebub nodded.

Agreeing, Belphegor let out a small sigh. He wasn’t sure about his own opinion of Lena so far. They didn’t start off on the best of terms. No, he’d admit that he behaved like a brat that day. But he never had the opportunity to get to know her or to apologize for his overreaction. Maybe he’d help with the furniture too?

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saturnznct · 3 years

Text

attack on titan!au, mark lee x reader

word count: 3.4k words

warnings: head injury, physical fighting (for training purposes), descriptions of death, mention of knives and cult

note: will be working through this series slowly! hope u all like this xx

nct dream aot au masterlist

The first time you laid eyes on Mark Lee was in that iconic dusty courtyard. Bearing in mind he was being ripped into by Commander Shadis.

‘And what about you, Lee?’

A twelve year old Mark Lee’s eyes shone with tears of fear. He was clearly somewhat sheltered from the horrors of this world; hailing from the town of Jinae, southern Wall Maria alongside fellow cadet Marco Bott. The two of them were the image of innocence, although they barely knew each other, both round-faced and freckly.

Mark had cowered beneath Shadis’ gaze, likely having never been spoken to in such a way, especially not by his loving family. You felt drawn to him. What was he doing here?

That night he barely said much, nibbling on stale bread. You could tell he did not want to eat, but food was scarce, so he kind of had to. He listened intently to the words of Eren Yaeger who spoke about his experiences with the Colossal Titan on that infamous day two years ago.

Days faded into weeks. You passed your own balance test with flying colours, as did Mark, who’s face would become screwed up whenever his feet left the ground.

While you formed a casual alliance with Sasha, promising to go easy on each other during combat training, Mark swapped anecdotes with Marco and sharpened his wooden knife with Reiner.

One day Commander Shadis had demanded you pair up with Mikasa (likely because he was sick of you and Sasha throwing fake punches) and you were so distracted by Mark that she easily flipped you over, an ‘oof’ escaping your mouth as you hit the ground. When your back makes contact with the sand, your head snaps back, hitting the ground hard.

‘Wait, I didn’t mean that,’ Mikasa mumbles, seemingly unsure as to what to do.

Everything goes pitch black for a split second. When your eyes do open, your head is spinning, black spots dotting the sky above you like stars. You hear Commander Shadis yelling for the first-aid specialist cadets.

Admittedly in that moment you had absolutely no clue who was part of that squad. At this point in your training years, you were especially focused on yourself, working on your own skills and specialities. But when Mark Lee comes barrelling across the training yard your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

‘Are you alright?’ He asks you as soon as he kneels down beside you, ‘can you see?’

Mark sounds far more concerned and more urgent than you feel, which you find somewhat charming, but your head is still spinning.

‘Mark, remember the procedures,’ Thomas Wagner seems to be somewhat supervising him.

‘Oh, uh,’ Mark holds up three fingers and waves them around as if to confuse you a little, ‘how many fingers am I holding up?’

He’s peering over you, almost like a pet trying to get your attention. You feel your chest swell at how cute he looks.

You blink, trying to decide whether or not you should play up your injury for his attention or get up so you can continue training.

‘Three,’ you mutter, deciding that returning to combat training was worth more than gaining the sympathy of a cute boy.

Mark and Thomas exchange a look.

‘Do you think you can sit up?’ Mark asks, eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

‘I don’t know,’ you mumbled, ‘I’ll try…’

You prepare yourself to have to lift yourself off the dirty ground, but you jump about a mile in the air when he holds the back of your head in his hand, slowly supporting your head as you sat up.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N,’ Mikasa apologises quietly.

‘It’s okay,’ you croak, ‘it’s my fault.’

‘Come on Y/N, we’ll have to take you back to your dorm room to lay down,’ Thomas has a sharp tone of authority, so you don’t even try to argue.

‘Dude, she can’t even stand,’ Mark points out.

‘How about you carry her then,’ Thomas huffs, turning on his heel to deal with some other cadet’s grazed arm.

‘I-I-Is that okay?’ Mark stutters, hand still on the small of your back as he held you up.

You nod groggily, ‘it’s okay.’

And so he scoops you up in his arms, and you automatically cling onto his neck. Mark is incredibly gentle, hand under your leg splayed out as to not touch your thigh.

You’re sleepy at this point, so the walk back to your dorm house is slow.

Mark tilts you to the side to twist the doorknob, the door loudly creaking open.

‘Which bunk is yours?’

‘Right beside the window,’ you mumble, ‘bottom bunk.’

He walks you over slowly, almost as though you were a baby in his arms, before gently lowering you down into your bed.

‘Are you comfortable?’

You nod, shifting around under the duvet to try and get comfortable.

‘Good. I’ll send one of the girls in occasionally to check on you,’ he says, ‘I hope you feel better soon.’

And then he shuffles out, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible.

‘How’s your head?’

‘Huh?’

The cafeteria is relatively empty, it being late than the normal scheduled eating time. You had finished up with your cleaning duties a bit later than usual, hence why you were eating bread at nearly 10pm.

You had been interrupted by a certain Jinae resident.

‘Your head… have you been feeling better? I’ve been worried.’

‘You have?’ Your heart nearly skips a beat at the thought of him worrying about you, hoping that you’re alright, ‘I’m just fine Mark, all thanks to you.’

You don’t miss the way a pink blush creeps up his neck, and he avoids your gaze.

‘It’s what I’m trained to do,’ he brushes it off, ‘what kind of medic would I be if I couldn’t help?’

‘You’re incredibly selfless.’

‘Not really,’ Mark shrugs, ‘it’s the right thing to do.’

’Still selfless.’

He looks up at you then, trying to read your emotions.

‘I just mean that, in this world, people are selfish. People always care more about saving themselves than saving others. So you’re different, in that way.’

‘You think people care more about themselves than others?’

‘I-I saw a lot of things during the fall of Maria.. When my town was under attack, the titans had destroyed some of the houses, and there were people inside, who couldn’t get out. And they were shouting- screaming for someone to help them move the wood or the rubble but nobody listened. I told my dad to help them, obviously I couldn’t myself because I was only nine, but he didn’t. He told me that we had to leave ourselves, that we were responsible for ourselves. Now I know that those people died. They died because my father refused to help, because I was too weak. That’s most of the reason why I’m here, to help people if that were to happen again.’

‘I think your dad just cared about his family.’

‘In the refugee camps, I saw people steal food from other families, have knife fights over money and blankets. We were all in the same position, displaced and traumatised. I don’t know why people were so unwilling to help each other.’

‘Where are your family now?’ Mark asks innocently enough, but you feel your heart sink a bit.

‘My dad was sent out on the recapture mission, you know, when they tried to retake Wall Maria. He died.’

‘Oh I’m-‘ Mark looks at you with wide eyes, as if he had no idea how to react.

‘I don’t really feel any way about it,’ you admit, interrupting him, ‘he was comfortable letting those people trapped in the houses die terrified. I’m sure he had enough time to prepare himself for death before he left, and as he rode his horse out of Trost. I knew he was going to die when he said goodbye to me, and I was quite numb to it then too. My mother left me and my siblings alone in that camp and went to work in the interior to actually make money. I imagine she’s a prostitute or something. I don’t know. I don’t hear from her.’

‘Does she know you’re here?’

‘Maybe. My siblings may have told her. Anyway. Enough about me, what about you?’

‘My older brother is in the Military Police,’ Mark explains, ’the grand jewel of our family… I think my parents want me to follow in his footsteps. But I have no idea what I want to do yet.’

‘Do you think you’ll get in the top ten?’

‘Probably not. I’m not as fit or strong as Reiner, or even Annie. And I don’t have Armin’s brains or intellect. I’m kind of just in the middle.’

‘You have Eren’s will,’ you point out, ‘you care about helping people.’

‘You’re really comparing me to Eren?’ Mark chuckles.

‘I’m not saying you’re arrogant, just that you have the passion.’

‘I know. I just don’t think I have the passion for being a member of the Military Police. I don’t think they really help people as much as I want to.’

‘They’re very culty,’ you grimace, ‘so weird.’

Mark chuckles, ‘you’re not wrong. Every time I see my brother he’s walking around the interior with a huge gun, probably bullying some random kids.’

‘Do you know what regiment you want to go into?’ You ask.

‘I’m still weighing my options,’ he shrugs, ‘the Garrison always seemed like the easy route, just patrolling the streets and sitting around all day. But now they’re basically partners with the Survey Corps. If the walls get broken, they have to fight alongside each other. Either way, I’m fighting titans. It’s mainly just a decision of how often I want to.’

’Wall Rose hasn’t fallen,’ you point out, ‘it’s been nearly three years.’

‘As time goes on, it gets more likely,’ he remarks darkly, eyes fixed on the table, ‘by the sounds of it, this colossal titan seems intelligent. Who knows when it will decide to strike next. Our lecturer said that titan behaviour is incredibly unpredictable.’

‘Don’t you think we’ll be prepared enough to fight by then?’

‘It’s the Royal Government that comes up with the evacuation and fighting strategies. They care more about the preservation of the interior than those in the outer walls. They probably half-arsed the whole plan. As for our training, remember what Commander Shadis said on our first day. Most of us will just be titan feed in the end.’

‘You’re strong though, Mark,’ you state gently, as if he were sobbing and you were trying to console him.

‘You think so?’

‘I know you are. I watch you fight for future every single day.’

Mark stays silent, mulling over your words.

‘You really inspire me to try harder myself. And you’ll be an incredible soldier.’

When Mark continues to be silent, your eyes dart around the room. You catch the gaze of Sasha, who is stuffing her face with the tiny amount of leftovers.

She wiggles her eyebrows at you teasingly, before getting up and walking out of the cafeteria.

‘Nice one Y/N!’ Mark yells as you land a kick on Sasha’s shin, prompting her to fall to the floor clutching her leg.

‘Ow, Y/N!’ She shrieks, ‘I thought you said you would go easy on me!’

‘No titan will go easy on you, Braus,’ you hear Annie comment flatly.

Sasha huffs while Mark comes up behind you, gently turning you around by your elbow and giving you a high ten.

‘You’ve gotten so much better recently,’ Mark compliments, ‘I’m so proud of you!’

’Thanks Mark,’ you grin, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat by his words.

‘Yeah, nice going,’ Sasha grumbles, wiping down her now dusty thighs and shins, before turning on her heel and walking off to find Connie.

‘I still feel as though my fighting skills are a bit lacking to be honest,’ he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

‘Really? Who have you been practicing with?’

‘…Armin.’

‘Ah.’

‘Not to say that he’s weak or anything- he’s definitely not. There’s just a certain level you can get to where you just can’t improve anymore.’

No, I know what you mean,’ you try to empathise.

‘Maybe we can practice together? I-I mean, your usual partner is kind of… limping away, and I just think that you’re really great at this kind of stuff-‘

‘Mark,’ you giggle, reaching out and touching his shoulder, ‘it’s okay. We can fight. But just know, I’ll win.’

You take a few steps back as he laughs nervously. You drop your smile for a much more intimidating glare, raising your arms up.

‘Ready, Lee?’

Mark nods, awkwardly holding his own arms up to mirror your own.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds before either one of you strikes. You lunge forwards at him, swinging your right arm around his neck, to trap him in a headlock. He splutters in your ear, flailing his own limbs around in an attempt to wriggle out of your grip, but fails to do so when you throw out your leg and clip the side of his ankle with your foot, sending both of you to the ground.

He lands first, back impacting against the ground with a thud and a grunt from Mark.

You had imagined that he would let you go as he tumbled to the ground, but he doesn’t, clinging onto your arms and bringing you down with him.

A split second later, you’re also making contact with something, but not the ground. Your abdomens clash together, causing you to make an automatic ‘oof’ sound.

It takes you a while to adjust to the situation. You’re face to face, legs tangled together. There’s orange dust in Mark’s hair, sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes squinting while trying to get used to the sun, cheeks and nose red with the heat, lips-

There’s a few moments of silence, the two of you studying each others faces.

‘Ar-are you ok?’ You stammer, and for a few seconds he does not respond, still just staring at you.

‘Oh! I’ll get off,’ you shake your head, unraveling your twisted legs and clambering off of him, much to Mark’s silent disappointment.

‘Uh, you did good!’ You murmur, ‘just, um, try not to be caught off guard, next time.’

When you turn to walk away, you don’t fail to notice the way Krista and Mina are sitting on the steps of the watchtower, whispering frantically to each other.

You don’t see Mark for a few days after that. Training becomes infinitely more rigorous, since you were split into four groups and sent to different parts of the forest for field training.

You had spent several days trekking through the rain and snow with your backpack on, and afterwards spending a few days recuperating.

Mark was in a different group than you, hence why you did not see him. It feels weird that he’s not there, like there’s a part of you missing, but overall you somewhat enjoy your few days away.

It also gives you the perfect opportunity to completely forget about your weird moment during your fight, and focus on building relationships with other cadets.

‘You don’t think Marco is cute?’ Mina exclaims with wide eyes.

‘No, I mean he’s ok-‘

‘Just okay?’ Hannah Diamant replies, absolutely stunned at your indifference.

‘She only says so because she has her eyes on Lee,’ Sasha teases, sticking her tongue out when you turn to glare at her.

‘Do not!’ You argue.

‘Do too!’ Sasha is in fits of giggles, ‘and he clearly likes you too.’

‘I doubt it,’ you mumble, suddenly feeling quite embarrassed.

’Nah, he definitely likes you,’ Mina chimes in.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain blonde had been paying a bit of extra attention to your conversation.

Hence why you were here now, violently stabbing at your dinner with a fork, glaring holes into Krista Lenz’s back while she whispered to Mark Lee.

‘I thought she was going out with that Ymir girl?’ You don’t have a clue who’s speaking to you. Your brain is swimming with anger, so fuzzy you can hardly think straight.

When Krista goes to whisper in Mark’s ear again, she places a hand on his shoulder, after which you’re plotting ways in which you could cut her fingers off.

’I wouldn’t worry,’ Sasha shrugs, ‘we know, and I mean we all know he’s in love with you.’

‘Even if you’re right, which you are not, I’m not her.’

‘Don’t be so worried you idiot,’ Mina half snaps half chuckles, ‘you’re gorgeous. And a total catch, obviously. Mark Lee would be dumb to not want you.’

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.

‘What the actual fuck,’ you mutter, sitting straight up in your bottom bunk bed, coming centimetres from smacking your head.

You whip your head in the direction of the source of the noise.

And there he stands, Mark Lee, in the purple night at your window.

‘What the hell?’ You mouth.

He beckons, asking you to come outside.

You give him an incredulous look, trying to be as quiet as physically possible while getting out of bed and putting on your jacket and boots.

‘What sort of time do you call this?’ You exclaim, exasperated.

‘The best time to go to the lake.’

You can’t help but notice the smirk on his face as he turns on his heel, walking down the gravel path.

You quickly look around for possible bystanders, before following him.

His lantern lights the way as you walk down the hill in a comfortable silence, arms swinging at every bump and skip in your step.

The lake is glittering at this time of night, especially because of how high and bright the moon is in the sky.

‘I like to sit and have picnics in the moon rather than the sun. The food doesn’t melt and I don’t get sunburned.’

‘We’re having a picnic?’ You practically squeak, eyes widening to basically the same size as the moon above.

‘Well, uh, no, we are in a food shortage,’ Mark stammers, ‘but I did swipe some bread from Armin. Well I mean, he gave it to me, said he would take one for the team or whatever…’

’Thank you Mark,’ you interrupt him, grinning uncontrollably, ‘this is really sweet.’

‘But if it’s any constellation, I would’ve loved to have made you a picnic. When they take back the wall I promise I’ll make up a nice spread of food.’

‘Where’s all this come from, Mark?’ You wonder aloud.

‘I’ve just had a realisation recently,’ he admits, gulping.

‘What is it?’

‘I really like you, Y/N,’ he confesses, taking both of your hands in his and rubbing them with his thumbs, ‘and I know that you probably don’t feel the same, and that we definitely have much bigger things to focus on, but-‘

You cut him off by practically launching yourself at him, kissing him.

For a moment he is stiff as a board underneath you with his surprise, before relaxing and reciprocating your kiss.

For a while you sit there, under the watchful eye of the moon, eventually peeling away from each other when you become breathless.

‘I like you too, Mark. Being with you takes me away from this horrible reality. And I don’t know what the future will be like, but I know that I want you in it.’

‘I feel exactly the same way,’ he whispers, still holding your hands.

‘We have to pick our regiments really soon. I think that I might join the survey corps,’ you say, staring out into the lake.

‘I’ll go wherever you go,’ Mark murmurs, rubbing your cheek with his hand, which you lean into.

You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, your head resting on his shoulder, Mark occasionally turning his head to kiss your hair.

‘What made you decide to tell me this now?’ You ask.

‘Well, let’s just say I got some encouragement from Krista and Sasha.’

’I should’ve known,’ you chuckle, ‘I’ll get them back later.’

Mark laughs, perking up slightly as though he had remembered something.

‘Ready to crack open the bread, baby?’

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