#I don’t know what happens in offices. what do I look like. I don’t think he does either really. he just likes the aesthetic
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oooo if you’re interested would love to see your take: reader is Azriel’s mate, nobody knows. The inner circle keeps trying to set him up with females (including Elaine & Gwyn). They like reader but don’t view her as an option for being his partner. Lots of angst, she’s hurting, she overhears them saying she’s not an option for him. Up to you what happens for her and Azriel. Loved your last story, and that you wanted more angst ideas!! And if this isn’t what you’re looking for, all good!
Between Us Alone
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel’s mate overhears a conversation that shakes her confidence in their hidden bond, but he reminds her that love, even in shadows, is unbreakable.
Wc: 1.2k
A/N: Annndddd welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This time I come with the gift of some fluff (with angst ofc bcs duh—who do y’all think I am?) Enjoy the happy endings while they last…..evil laugh
——
The corridors of the House of Wind were quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation that drifted from Rhysand’s office. You’d gone looking for Azriel, hoping he might steal away from his “boys’ night” early and join you at your shared apartment.
A secret, the two of you. Hidden in plain sight. Quite fitting for Rhysand’s spymasters.
It was exhilarating at first—the quiet smiles across rooms, the fleeting brushes of hands, and the stolen glances when no one else was looking. But there were cracks now, small fissures of insecurity that made you wonder if keeping the bond private had been the right choice.
Your footsteps slowed as you neared Rhys’s office, voices clear now, though you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were about to knock when you caught the sound of Cassian’s boisterous laughter.
“Oh, come on, Az,” Cassian said, his tone teasing. “You’ve been spending all that time with Gwyn. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“Gwyn’s sweet,” Rhysand added. “And she clearly enjoys your company. You’d make a good pair.”
Your heart clenched painfully, the words hitting you like a physical blow.
Azriel’s reply was quieter, almost unreadable. “Gwyn is a friend. I’m not looking for… that.”
Cassian scoffed. “You say that now, but it’s been centuries, Az. When was the last time you even tried to let someone in? Gwyn’s perfect for you—kind, strong, clever. She gets you.”
“She’s not the only option,” Rhys said smoothly. “There are others. Nesta’s mentioned a few priestesses who would be good matches.”
Cassian nodded in agreement. “There’s also Y/N.”
You pressed your hand to the doorframe, your breaths shallow as you heard Cassian say your name.
“No, I don’t see them together. They rarely speak to each other outside of missions and a few shared words at dinners.” Rhysand says with a shake of his head as if the thought of you and Azriel together was the most unlikely thing he could think of.
You shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They didn’t mean to hurt you—you knew that. You’d always been on the periphery of their circle, a friend but never a true equal in their eyes. Azriel’s shadows had been your sanctuary, his quiet love a solace you cherished.
But to hear them speak so casually, as if you weren’t even a possibility…
Azriel’s voice cut through, firm and unyielding. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker. I can handle my own life.”
“You’re avoiding the question,” Cassian said, clearly amused.
“Drop it,” Azriel snapped, his tone brooking no argument.
The room fell silent after that, but the damage was done. You turned and fled, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step.
—
The space you shared with Azriel was small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Velaris where no one thought to look. It was your haven, the only place you could truly be yourselves without prying eyes or whispered questions.
But tonight, it felt suffocating.
You sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as the doubts clawed at your mind.
This charade was necessary. You both knew that. If they ever found out you and Azriel had been together for months—years, now—it would complicate everything. Not just for him, but for you.
As Azriel’s partner, you worked in the shadows as he did, your work as vital and delicate as his own. Secrecy was second nature to you both, and you’d agreed early on that revealing your bond—to anyone—was too risky.
You’d thought you could handle it. But moments like this, when they talked about Azriel’s love life like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t his, made you question how much more you could endure.
You told yourself it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. He hadn’t encouraged them. He’d even told them to stop. But the weight of their words lingered, stirring fears you’d tried so hard to bury.
What if they were right? What if Azriel deserved someone like Gwyn, someone who could stand beside him without the need for secrecy?
You didn’t hear the front door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the familiar sound of Azriel’s footsteps until he was standing in front of you.
“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately, his hazel eyes scanning your face. His shadows swirled around him, restless and sharp. “What happened?”
You shook your head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”
His brow furrowed, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Don’t lie to me.”
The sincerity in his voice nearly broke you. You looked away, your throat tightening as you tried to hold back tears.
“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”
You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But you couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“I went to Rhys’s office,” you admitted quietly. “I was going to find you, but… I heard you all talking.”
Azriel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “What did you hear?” He already knew. There was only one part of the conversation that could’ve had you so distraught.
You swallowed hard. “They… they were trying to set you up with someone. Gwyn, mostly. Rhys mentioned others.” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “They said I wasn’t even an option.”
Azriel’s eyes darkened, his shadows curling tighter around him.
“They didn’t mean it to hurt me, I know that” you added quickly, seeing how Azriel was ready to go back and pummel his brothers. “They don’t know about us. But… it still hurt.”
He exhaled sharply, standing and pacing the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “They had no right—”
“They care about you,” you interrupted. “They want you to be happy. And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone like Gwyn. Someone who—”
“Stop.”
The word was a command, sharp and unyielding. Azriel crossed the room in an instant, kneeling before you again. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle.
“Don’t you dare doubt this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare doubt us.”
Tears spilled over, and he reached up to brush them away, his touch achingly tender.
“You are my mate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You. Not Gwyn, not anyone else. You are the only one I want, the only one I will ever want.”
“But they—”
“They’re idiots,” he said flatly. “I’ll deal with them. But don’t let their ignorance make you doubt what we have.”
You searched his face, finding only unwavering certainty in his eyes.
“I love you,” he said, his voice softening. “More than I thought I was capable of. And I don’t care if they don’t see it. I see it. I feel it.”
A broken laugh escaped you, relief washing over you like a tide. “I love you too.”
He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the world.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought keeping the bond private would protect us, but if it’s hurting you—”
“It’s not,” you said quickly. “Not really. I just… I needed to hear this. To hear you.”
He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours. “You’ll never have to doubt me again.”
——
Aren’t they just so sweet *sigh*. Thank you for reading <3
Requests are still open ;)
#oneshots#scenarios#acotar#azriel shadowsinger#a court of thorns and roses#azriel angst#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#azriel spymaster#azriel x reader#rhysand#cassian#azriel fic#azriel imagine#acomaf#a court of silver flames#a court of frost and starlight#a court of wings and ruin#a court of mist and fury
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Suddenly obsessed with this idea, wow.
The vision flashing before my eyes is that when they do the setup for his tv wife spraining her ankle on the way home from the football game (?) (is that what happened? it’s been like 20 years since I watched this movie) he helps her but he only has eyes for the running back. At first the execs don’t clue in, they just think he’s not that interested in the girl they set him up with, but soon it becomes clear he’s harboring a serious crush. They tell the running back to go with it, but the actor who plays him is straight and kind of weirded out by the whole thing, so every interaction is stiff and awkward. Under the radar, an actual gay actor they hired to play a local loner has a few moments of gay solidarity with Truman via the Shared Look of Gay Understanding™️. The show editors finally realize something is up when they come across a very fleeting attempt by Truman at a kiss (guess who wasn’t gonna waste time pining after Mr. Running Back forever) that Local Loner kindly but firmly brushes aside. Unfortunately for him, he gets promoted to series regular after this and is instructed to return Truman’s affections. He becomes the fake TV boyfriend, and his obvious discomfort in the role gives the story arc a flavor of “see how miserable gay people are?” Eventually he gives his notice, and gets written off the show going off to take care of his ailing mother in a different state. We never hear from him again. Truman is sad and lonely. He’s sort of half-closeted, where his friends and family kind of know and kind of don’t — he never felt secure enough in that relationship to talk about it much. That’s when the network hits him with the Slutty Hunk, a borderline sleazy muscle bound gentleman who works at a construction site near Truman’s office and wolf whistles at him every morning. Truman does not care for this. Truman decides to take a vow of celibacy. The network puts a series of hot men (& women) in his vicinity but nothing seems to take. They’re all too thirsty. Truman craves connection.
Meanwhile, the actor that played Local Loner has joined a small group of political activists protesting the show, and the fact that he had such a big role in Truman’s life at one point is brought up again and again — sometimes to call him a hypocrite, sometimes to point out how deep his motivations are. The media loves drama. He always insists that it was wrong for the network to put him in that situation, and it was wrong for him to go along with it for so long. Conservative pundits take this and run with it, spinning it into a homophobic lecture about the shamelessness of the liberal media. Local Loner has to set them straight — in his first official coming out, at a time when most gay actors dodged the question at best, he takes a stand and says, No, I’m gay, and there’s nothing wrong with that — but lying to a man about his whole entire life and filming him for the entertainment of the masses, putting him in fake relationships and breaking his heart just for ratings — THAT’S wrong.
I don’t know where I’m going with this anymore but that’s what came to me lol
What if the Truman show did a queerbait arc
#the truman show#being gay on tv in the 90s#there’s gotta be more sociopolitical narrative in here but I just keep thinking about poor lonely gay Truman#& how poorly 90s tv execs would handle that
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Have A Baby By Me
MDNI! You are in charge of ya own experience.
Warnings: Smutty smut. Breeding kink. Marriage?
A/N: As one of my good sis's has said to me breeding kink. But breeding kink on Aaron. I had to.
The sun broke in their bedroom. Cleo was still knocked out from their night. When she awoke he was nowhere to be found in the upstairs of their shared home. So she showered and got dressed. Something simple. Well simple enough for a woman who’s man kept her in skin tight dresses and Christian Louboutins. When she got down on their main floor she noticed his office door was open.
He has scripts strewn all over the place. She smiled at the look of him. Aaron looks up and smiles. “Good morning my love.” he says. Cleo smiles at the sound of his voice. The accent is thick. “Good morning.” Cleo responds. Cleo takes a seat in front of him. “We need to revisit the baby conversation.” she says softly to him.
“Love. We talked about this. I want the legacy.” he starts. “And I want your last name!” she fires back.
Cleo rose gracefully from her seat, the soft click of her Louboutins on the floor drawing Aaron’’s attention as she rounded the desk. Without a word, she placed her hands gently on his shoulders, her delicate fingers tracing slow, soothing circles against the fabric of his shirt.
Aaron leaned back slightly in his chair, tilting his head to look up at her, his expression one of both curiosity and admiration. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.
Cleo bent down slightly, her lips brushing close to his ear as she whispered, “I want to be married to you before I bring a child into this world, Araron.”
His smile widened, a deep chuckle escaping his lips. “We can make that happen Cleo. Anything you want I can do.” he said, his hands instinctively reaching up to rest on her hips.
“Good,” she murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his temple. “Because I wasn’t planning on you resisting.”
Aaron turned his chair slightly to face her, his eyes locking onto hers. “You’re a dangerous distraction, Ms.Morgan,” he teased, his voice filled with warmth. “But I’m not complaining.”
Cleo tilted her head, her cloudy grey eyes shimmering with mischief. “I wouldn’t be doing my job as your wife if I didn’t keep you on your toes,” she replied, her hands moving down to straighten the collar of his shirt.
Araron tightened his grip on her waist, his expression softening. “And you do it so effortlessly,” he said, pulling her a little closer. “But you might have to take responsibility for all the work I’m not getting done right now.”
Cleo smiled, leaning down to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. “Consider it my way of reminding you who your real boss is,” she said with a wink.
Aaron laughed, shaking his head. “Point taken, love. Point taken.”
She sighs. “I hate this is being a strain. Since you haven’t touched me in a week.” she says pouting.
Aaron’s eyebrows shot up, and a sly grin spread across his face as Cleo’s words hung in the air. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing playfully as he looked up at her.
“Oh?” he said, his voice low and full of intrigue. “Is that right?”
Cleo trailed her fingers along the edge of his jaw, her touch featherlight. “Mm-hmm,” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips were just barely brushing his ear. “I think it’s about time we fixed that, don’t you?”
Aaron let out a soft chuckle, his hands sliding up to rest on her hips. “You’re full of dangerous ideas today, Cleo,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and desire.
“Dangerous?” Cleo tilted her head, feigning innocence. “I’d call it overdue.”
Aaron stood, his imposing frame towering over her as he gently spun her around, pressing her back against his desk. “Overdue, huh?” he said, his tone challenging. His fingers traced the hem of her dress, his eyes never leaving hers. “You know what happens when you tease me like this, don’t you?”
Cleo smirked, unbothered by the shift in power. “I was hoping you’d show me, Mr. Pierre.”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned down, his lips grazing hers. “Lock the door, mi amor,” he whispered against her mouth.
Without breaking eye contact, Cleo reached behind him, her hand finding the lock on the door with practiced ease. The satisfying click was all the encouragement Aaron needed to keep the staff from wondering in.
“You’ve been asking for this,” he said, his voice low and commanding, as his hands slid around her waist.
“And I’m not sorry,” she shot back, pulling him closer.
Whatever meetings were on Aarons schedule that day would have to wait.
Aaron’s hands moved with deliberate care as he lifted Cleo onto the polished surface of his desk. The cold wood met the warmth of her skin, and she gasped softly at the sensation.
He stepped between her knees, his hands spreading them slightly as he leaned forward, his lips grazing her jawline. “You’ve got no idea how hard it is to focus when you show up looking like this,” he murmured, his voice a low growl.
Cleo tilted her head back, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his tie, pulling him closer. “Oh, I know,” she teased, her smirk laced with mischief. “That’s why I came.”
Aaron chuckled, his hands sliding up her thighs, fingers tracing lazy circles. “You’re trouble, Mrs. Pierre,” he whispered against her skin. She heard it come off his lips so easily.
“And you love it,” she breathed, her nails lightly scraping down his shoulders.
His lips found hers, the kiss deep and possessive, filled with the unspoken tension they both carried. As the world outside his office faded away, Aaaron pulled back just enough to look into her eyes.
“This is going to be a long lunch break,” he said, his tone laced with promise.
Cleo grinned, her hands tugging him closer. “Then you better make it worth it, Mr. Pierre.”
With that, Aaron leaned down, reclaiming her lips as the scripts scattered across the desk became the least important thing in the room.
She moved her hands to unzip his pants. Cleo automatically could see the hard on that is being concealed by his briefs. Impatient, overcoming him he guided her hands to take them off. In typical fashion it springs out from the confinement. He pushes her dress up so that it's scrunched on her stomach.
She whispers in his ear. “I’m ovulating.” That’s all he needed to hear. Two simple words.
“Fuck!” he grumbles as he enters her. This time it felt different. Her hands secure on his shoulders. “Do you trust me love?” he asks. His voice low and lust ridden. “Yes Daddy.” Cleo says ready for him to do something.
He began to thrust. “A…..” her voice wobbly as soon as she felt him start to zone out. Each thrust became more intentional. When his pace started to really pick up “Aaron….” her words slurring as she felt her orgasm coming. “Just a little bit longer love.” his voice slurring. Her nails dug into his back. Not the first time and damn sure won’t be the last time.
She felt her orgasm come crashing down hard. Aaron came soon after but he kept going. He has always been the type to cum and keeping fucking. Thank you to all those natural shit he takes. He rests his forehead against hers. “We better be expecting.” he says. “We better be married before the child gets her Mr. Pierre.” she quips back.
Cleo slid off the desk, her legs slightly wobbly as she straightened her skirt and smoothed her blouse. She glanced at the desk, quickly gathering the scattered papers and setting them back in a neat pile.
Aaron leaned against the desk, arms crossed, watching her with a satisfied smirk. “You’re going to be thinking about this all day,” he teased, his voice a low rumble.
Cleo shot him a look as she adjusted her hair in the reflection of his office window. “You mean you’re going to be thinking about it all day,” she countered, her lips curving into a smirk of her own.
He stepped behind her, his hands resting lightly on her hips as he whispered in her ear, “I already am.”
She let out a soft laugh, spinning to face him, her fingers straightening the knot of his tie. “You better focus on that meeting you’ve got in ten minutes,” she said, arching a brow.
Aaron chuckled, catching her wrist and pressing a lingering kiss to her palm. “Only if you promise to let me pick you up for dinner tonight.”
“Deal,” Cleo replied with a wink before slipping out of his office, her heels clicking confidently against the floor as she disappeared down the hall.
Aaron watched her leave, shaking his head with a grin. He returned to his chair, his thoughts still lingering on the fiery woman who had just walked out, and the lingering scent of her perfume in the air. Before she could fully get out of his office, he called after her. “When did you stop wearing panties?” he asks with a smirk.
Cleo paused mid-step, turning back to face him with an amused smile playing on her lips. "Hmm," she mused, tapping her chin as if in deep thought. "Probably around the time I realized it drove you insane."
Aaron leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as his smirk grew wider. "Insane doesn't even begin to cover it," he said, his voice low and laced with hunger.
She stepped closer, resting her hands on the edge of his desk, leaning in just enough to meet his gaze. "Well," she teased, her tone light but suggestive, "if it's such a problem, I could start wearing them again."
His hand shot out, gently circling her wrist. "Don’t you dare," he growled, pulling her closer until she was perched on the edge of the desk once again.
Cleo laughed softly, brushing a hand over his chest. "I figured you'd say that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes dancing with mischief.
He pulled her in for a quick kiss, his grip firm but tender. "You're impossible," he muttered against her lips.
"And yet, you love me," she quipped, pulling back just enough to shoot him a sly grin before turning on her heel and sauntering toward the door once more.
"More than you'll ever know," Aaron called after her, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation as he watched her leave. “And next time leave my favorite pair next time. The purple lace.” he says with a smirk.
Cleo stopped in her tracks, turning her head just enough to glance back at him, her eyebrow arched in playful curiosity. "The purple lace, huh?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement.
Aaron leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, the smirk on his face growing wider. "You know the ones," he said, his tone slow and deliberate, "the ones that barely leave anything to the imagination. My absolute favorite."
Cleo chuckled softly, stepping back toward him with measured grace, her heels clicking against the floor. She stopped just in front of him, leaning down slightly to meet his gaze. "Too bad I haven't worn those in a while," she teased, tilting her head.
"Shame," he replied, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Guess I'll just have to buy you another set."
She laughed, brushing her fingers under his chin. "Maybe I’ll surprise you," she said, straightening up. "But you’ll have to wait and see."
He grabbed her hand before she could fully pull away, tugging her just close enough to whisper, "You know patience isn’t my strong suit, love."
Cleo smiled, shaking her head as she gently freed her hand. "Well, you'll just have to practice," she said, turning back toward the door with a deliberate sway in her hips.
Araron watched her leave, his smirk unwavering. "Purple lace," he muttered to himself, already plotting. "Noted."
When she got to her car, she was fearful for the night. She knows that they will have to talk about two things. Baby Pierre that probably just was conceived and marriage.
Tags:
@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn
@writingsbytee @violetmuses @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar
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i would absolutely adore it if you wrote something with yan!silco punishing his darling and soothing them after !!
teehee i had too much fun with this…sadistic silco for the win >:) tysm for requesting ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Yandere!Silco x Reader
tw: physical abuse, manipulative behaviour, kidnapping, mentions of throwing up
“Oh, Y/N. What happened to all our great progress, hm?”
Silco circles you like a hawk, cedar-spiced cigar held loosely in one hand, the plume smoke overwhelming his office. You feel dizzy, nauseous, petrified - yet all you want to do is collapse into his wiry arms and ask, no beg, for his forgiveness.
It had been what, two hours? Two gruelling hours since Silco had forced you to kneel in a bed of rice grains as punishment for trying to escape him.
The sensation of freedom when you managed to briefly pry yourself from his iron grip electrified your soul. You wandered the lanes for two hours, cautious definitely but teeming with newfound enthusiasm; the sounds of the city were louder, colours more vibrant and the rain seemed to wash away the pain you learned to carry along with you everywhere.
But here you are, trapped with Silco once more, kneeling in rice that cuts up your knees into something bloody and raw. Any longer and you’re afraid you might throw up on his expensive rug which wouldn’t end well for you.
Your body starts to waver and his mismatched eyes narrow in displeasure. He crouches down on his haunches next to where you threaten to topple over and takes a slow drag of his cigar, exhaling in your face and pressing the lit end onto your shoulder. You hiss sharply. You can hear fucking sizzling as the smell of burnt flesh mixes with his heedy smoke and you can’t stop yourself as you dry-heave from the overstimulation.
Salty tears run down your face, further adding to the mess of snot and saliva covering your face. You look up at the tall man, wondering how he can just watch as you suffer and not feel a thing. You want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him - pull him out of whatever insane mindset he’s in that makes him think any of this is remotely normal.
Instead, you watch as Silco flicks open his pocket watch and lazily checks the time before sighing and pocketing it again. He whips out his handkerchief and roughly wipes at the mess on your face as if you’re a nuisance.
He stands back up to his full height and drags you up from where you’re kneeling to carry you to the couch, knowing you’re too weak to stand on your own. You hope and pray that he might leave to let you reflect on your actions but he stays put right next to you on the seat. Your stomach drops.
You tremble under his watchful gaze, his cold eye disturbing you. He turns his sight to your shaky legs and it’s almost as if his entire body deflates at the sight of you looking so pitiful and worn down.
His hands travel down your thighs and stop at your kneecaps where his eyes are trained. His fingers slowly inch towards the inflammed flesh and strokes ever so gently but even his light touch makes you wince and groan in agony at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine.
“I-I’m sorry, Silco! I’ll never hurt you like this again I swear! Please don’t!” You whimper pathetically, eyes downcast as you form a makeshift shield, wrapping your arms around your torso to protect yourself from his temper.
“Oh, sweet Y/N,” he murmurs, nose buried in your hair as he raises a hand to pet the back of your head, cradling you right at the junction where your head and neck meets, “I simply demonstrated the consequences of your stupid actions, if you didn’t step out of line then I wouldn’t have been forced to teach you better, you understand?” His molasses voice flusters you despite the taunting vitriol that lurks behind his words.
You nod shakily, throwing your arms around his neck and sob into his chest as he rocks you back and forth. He hums to you with masterfully faked sympathy, you’re both aware it is, but all you care to do in this fragile moment is chase his comforting body.
“There, there. You did so well for me, I trust you learnt your lesson?”
You stay quiet, sniffling and gripping onto the lapels of his maroon suit jacket for as long as hello allow it.
Eventually, Silco lays you back down among the pillows and flashes you a warm smile that isn’t appropriate considering the circumstances. He then ducks his head down to your legs and, before you can understand what he plans to do, his chapped lips are kissing at your bloody knees, tongue darting out to press little kitten licks at the grazes he made.
He goes on like this for what seems like an eternity, just lapping up your wounds in stilted silence until he’s satisfied they’re clean. He goes to rummage through his drawers and comes back with a roll of bandages he carefully wraps around both knees. Even though he’s just put them on, dark red stains are already seeping through the white cotton, a bleak reminder to never disobey Silco like this again because in the end, he will always win.
“Would you like me to kiss it better?” His husky voice calls out to you but you already know this isn’t the kind of question you have the luxury of answering truthfully, so you choose to give him the answer he wants.
“Yes please, Silco.”
You feel his lips smile against your skin when he ducks back down to kiss your tender knees.
#request#arcane fanfic#arcane#yandere silco x reader#yandere silco#toxic silco#toxic silco x reader#silco x reader#arcane silco#silco#yandere#yandere x reader
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⇢ word count: 6.9k ⇢ genre: fluff, established relationship, secret relationship, office workers!jisung & reader, holiday themed, a bit of a crackfic (everyone in this is slightly unhinged and you should NOT act like them in your actual workplace PLEASE), appearances from absolute nuisances nohyuck (mainly hyuck being a nuisance and jeno being a desk candy bowl thief) and chill boss johnny (he’s actually the only normal one around this office fr), part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: lots of discussions of sex/sleeping together (nohyuck have an absolutely unhinged plot to have reader hook up w jisung w/o realizing that they’re already dating, shenanigans ensue) ⇢ extra info: this was originally going to be part of want from me, but i felt like i was losing the plot a bit, so i tweaked some stuff and made it its own fic instead this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: ok i may be stretching the concept of a ‘cheesy hallmark movie’ in this one, but there’s a holiday party. sue me. ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon
“You need to fuck Jisung.” Donghyuck sat on your desk the following Monday, nearly knocking your cup of pens over.
“What happened to hello? How are you?”
“I get why you didn’t want to tell anybody when I was interviewing,” Jisung sighed as you adjusted his tie for him. “But don’t you think everyone’s formed their own opinions about me by now?”
“You told me Mr. Kang called you Joosung yesterday,” you pointed out. “We agreed after your three-month evaluation, remember?”
“That’s next month!”
“Two weeks. December tenth, to be exact, will be three months since you started.”
“I know, I know.” He pulled you closer by your hips, burying his face in your neck. “Thank you.”
You rested one hand on the nape of his neck, the other stroking his hair. “I hate it too. I was in the bathroom yesterday and overheard a couple of the women from budgeting talking about you. Apparently one of them wants to ask you to the holiday party.”
He lifted his head up, squinting with confusion. “Wait, was it Song Minji from budgeting?”
“Yes…”
“Yesterday she asked me if I was going, I said yes, then she asked if I had a date, and I said no, and she said she didn’t either. Then she just stared at me. It was really awkward, so I told her I had to get back to my spreadsheets and walked away.”
You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as your boyfriend continued looking down at you with absolutely endearing confusion. Patting his cheek, you informed him gently, “She was waiting for you to ask her to the party, baby.”
“Well, even if I knew that, I wouldn’t have,” he huffed.
“I know, Sungie,” you kissed his cheek. “I know.”
“Good.”
You glanced at the time on your bedside clock, tapping his arm indicatively. “We’ve got to go.”
“Y/N, someone from bookkeeping will be over to pick these receipts up today,” Mr. Suh, your boss, informed you, setting a large banker box down on the ledge behind your computer monitor.
You nodded. “You sure you don’t want me to just take them over there now?”
Bookkeeping was on the same floor as your team, just on the opposite side of the large office building.
“No, I’ve got six more boxes in my office. They should be coming with a dolly. I’ve got a lunch meeting, then I’m on-site at a build. Can you make sure they get them all?”
“Of course. See you tomorrow, then.”
“Thank you. See you tomorrow.” He smiled and reached into your candy bowl, securing a chocolate for himself before heading off towards the elevator.
As you continued working up your reports, another figure approached your desk.
“Hi.” Jisung smiled down at you from over the banker box.
“And what is a bookkeeping gremlin doing over here?” You teased, having already spotted the bright orange dolly next to him. “They let you guys out of your cages?”
“Just me, because I’m on a mission.” He did a little mock salute, making you giggle. He then looked between the dolly and the box. “But I don’t really think this was necessary…”
“There’s six more boxes in Mr. Suh’s office,” you informed him happily, pointing to your boss’ door.
“Oh.”
Two of your team members, Donghyuck and Jeno, congregated around your desk then as well, Jeno zeroing in on your candy bowl as always, and Donghyuck snooping at what you were doing on your screen.
“Boring!” Hyuck declared, hitting CTRL + S on your keyboard to save it for you before exiting out of the program. “Lunchtime!”
“Hey, I was working on that, you know,” you protested, keeping up your usual banter with your work friend.
“Now you’re not,” he shrugged.
“Actually, you were chatting with…” Jeno trailed off, looking at Jisung expectantly.
“Jisung,” your boyfriend filled in.
“—You were chatting with Jisung when we got here,” Jeno finished, popping another chocolate in his mouth and tucking it in his cheek to talk around it. “So you weren’t really working.”
“She was telling me where the other boxes of receipts were,” Jisung explained quickly, gesturing to the dolly. “I’m supposed to pick them up. I’m from bookkeeping.”
Hyuck scanned him from head to toe. “You’re new, right?”
He nodded.
“Come to lunch with us.”
“No, Hyuck,” you snorted, cutting up your food as your coworker attempted to show you a picture of another one of his friends over lunch. “The last asshole you set me up with stood me up, remember?”
“I told you, Jaemin got a stomach bug!” Hyuck insisted. “And that was like, over a year ago!”
You looked at him pointedly. “And he could text you but not me? Think about it.”
“Okay, so he was a flake, but Mark is like, a really good guy!” He elbowed your other coworker next to him. “Jeno, back me up!”
Jeno shrugged. “Eh, he seems like the kind of guy to call you ‘bro’ in bed.”
“Not the kind of back-up I meant!”
“Am I wrong?”
“Why are you thinking about what Mark would call you in bed, Jeno?” You snickered.
He stuck his tongue out at you, and you mimicked him.
Hyuck pushed on in his seemingly never-ending pursuit to set you up with his also never-ending pool of single friends. “Ignore him, Y/N. Will you at least consider? For me? Your bestest friend?”
“I never see you outside of work functions,” you pointed out.
“Please? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?”
“Whatever. Send me his CV,” you said noncommittally, taking a bite of your food.
“On it!”
“Wait, he’s applying for a job?” Jisung finally spoke from his seat beside you, his confusion apparent.
“No, that’s just what they call whatever information Hyuck sends her about the guys he tries to set her up with,” Jeno explained for him. “It ends up being pretty much the same stuff that’s on a résumé, though.”
Hyuck then focused in on a new target. “Jisung, what about you?”
He froze. “What?”
“Are you single?”
“Uhm—”
“Lie if you have to,” you advised. “Once he smells blood, you’re done for.”
“I’m not a shark!” Hyuck took great offense to this comparison. “I’m-I’m like Cupid!”
You let out a derisive laugh at that, stabbing your fork into your food and lifting your next bite to your mouth.
“I’ve got a girlfriend,” Jisung answered hurriedly.
Hyuck narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “So you’re bringing her to the Christmas party.”
“I-I don’t know, we uhm—we just started seeing each other.”
“You’ll bring her to the next monthly mixer, then?”
“I’m pretty sure this is workplace harassment,” you stepped in on Jisung’s behalf, giving Hyuck a disapproving look. “We had a seminar, remember?”
“You’re not curious?”
“No, I don’t care to see you bother poor Jisung for the rest of our fleeting lunch break.”
“Fine, I won’t disturb Y/N’s precious lunch break,” he gave in melodramatically. “But I want to hear about her when we get back to the office, Jisung.”
When you and Jisung got home that evening, you waited until the two of you had gotten out of your work clothes to address the pout on his lips that had been present ever since lunch.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting at your dining table with him.
He started unpacking the to-go food. “Why did you tell Donghyuck to send you that guy’s info?”
“To get him to shut up about it. He would’ve done that for our whole lunch break, Sungie.” You shook your head, watching as he avoided your eyes. “Are you jealous? It’s not like I’m actually going to do anything with it.”
“I know, but I still don’t like that he’s sending you dating résumés, and it’s apparently been a regular thing?”
“Okay, I know we made it sound like it happens all the time,” you agreed. “This is like the third time, including the guy who stood me up last year. When you and I started dating, I told Hyuck not to bother anymore. But then he heard that I wasn’t bringing a date to the holiday party, and he started his little matchmaking thing again. That’s why I never told you, because there never was anything to tell.”
“I’m sorry if it sounded like I was accusing you of something, baby,” Jisung murmured, reaching for your hand over the table.
“Do you want me to block him or something?”
He sighed. “No, of course not.”
“Damn it, I was hoping you’d say yes. I’ve been looking for an excuse for years.”
He finally chuckled at that, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“Here.” You brought out your phone and stood behind him, maneuvering your arms around his shoulders so he could see your screen as you opened your texts with Hyuck and started deleting the most recent ones debriefing you on his newest eligible bachelor for you.
“Wait a second.” Jisung stopped you before you could delete all the pictures that Hyuck had sent.
“What?”
To your surprise, your boyfriend actually opened one of the pictures of the guy.
“Jeno was right,” he snorted, closing out of the picture.
“Wh—Oh,” you started laughing. “Yeah, absolutely.”
You finished deleting everything about the guy, then shut your phone off. “All gone. Can’t even remember his name.”
Jisung pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thanks, baby.”
“And I’ll tell Hyuck no more in the future. Sound good?”
“No, maybe it’s for the best. I don’t think you need to be subjected to the interrogation I went through today.” He leaned his head against yours affectionately.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I trust you.”
“Aw, thank you, Sungie.” You kissed his hair then hugged him properly. “I knew that. It was cute to see you get jealous, though.”
“You need to fuck Jisung.” Donghyuck sat on your desk the following Monday, nearly knocking your cup of pens over.
“What happened to hello? How are you?” You blinked up at him incredulously, rescuing your writing utensils and pushing them to a far corner.
“No time, we need to save our new favorite little bookkeeping gremlin.” He quickly saved your project and closed the window on your computer.
“And you think having sex with me is the cure for cancer or something?” You snorted. “They really wasted their money on your slot in that workplace harassment seminar.”
“No, look, he’s in an awful, awful situationship. I know he said she’s his girlfriend at lunch the other day, but he doesn’t have any pictures of her, he didn’t want to show me her social media. He said she probably wouldn’t be able to come to the mixer because of her ‘work schedule’—” Hyuck used finger quotes around the words ‘work schedule’ “—but the way he said, it sounded like he was just preemptively making excuses because he knew she would turn him down. I asked him about their first date, and you want to know his answer?”
“What?” You asked dryly.
“That they don’t really do ‘that stuff!’” More air quotes.
“Okay?”
“Then I asked what stuff they do do, and he turned bright red!”
“So he’s lying about having a girlfriend to get you off his back.”
“Mm, she sounded pretty real.”
“Okay, maybe he’s twisting the truth and he’s got a fuckbuddy and he still doesn’t want you playing matchmaker,” you suggested another alternative. “Either way, you should leave him alone.”
“No, look, I’ve got this all figured out. He needs to be reminded that there’s women other than this girl—”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “How do you have a rotating roster of men to throw at me, but somehow the only woman that comes to mind for your braindead plan is the one in your immediate line of sight? This is confirming my suspicions that you get no bitches, Lee Donghyuck. Have you talked to a single woman other than me and your mother?”
“Listen, it has to be you so nobody catches feelings!”
“So you’re saying I’m unlovable?”
His eyes widened comically as he went to backpedal. “No, of course not! I meant—Jeno, back me up!”
Jeno, who had been silently leaning against the ledge behind your computer monitor this whole time, happily snacking on the red and green Hershey’s kisses in your candy bowl, slowly finished off the one in his mouth before speaking. “Here’s the thing—”
“You condone this?” You scoffed.
He shrugged. “It’s like, his second-worst idea. Marginally better than setting you up with Na Jaemin.”
“Why do I bother asking for your back-up?” Hyuck muttered.
“But he doesn’t think you’re unlovable. He just knows that you’re a professional, and Jisung is still a newbie and works in a different department. So obviously, there’s like no risk of catching feelings if you guys do… Because work, you know?”
You sat back in your chair, glancing between the two of them dubiously. “Do you two think these are normal things to say to people? At work? To your coworker?”
They looked at each other with wide, horrified eyes, beginning to stutter apologetically.
“I’m in,” you declared abruptly, watching their jaws drop. You then focused your next sentence at Hyuck specifically. “If you’ll stop trying to set me up.”
“Done,” he agreed immediately.
Jisung had excitedly told you about the results of his three-month evaluation to you over dinner that evening, and as you two cleaned up after, you relayed your conversation with your coworkers to him.
“I finally got Hyuck to stop setting me up. Permanently,” you announced in a sing-songy voice, drying the last dish Jisung had just handed you before putting it up in the cabinet.
“Really? Did you find out he killed someone or something?” He asked, shaking the water off his hands over the sink before grabbing the towel hanging in front of it to start drying his hands.
“Nope, he just asked me to do something.”
“Oh, and who do you have to kill?”
“Nobody.” You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind him. “You see, he’s very concerned that this ‘girlfriend’ of yours doesn’t like you as much as you like her.”
“I know we’re literally coworkers, but he needs to get a job,” Jisung retorted.
“Why did you say we didn’t go dates when he asked about our first date?”
“I was afraid you might’ve mentioned it before and I didn’t want him to connect the dots if I told the same story.”
“You couldn’t come up with a fake first date? Carnival? Arcade? Dinner?”
“I was panicking!”
“Anyway, he thinks you’re in a toxic situationship, and that the only solution is for me to sleep with you.”
“Wait what?!” His muscles flexed and contracted under your hands with his words, and he seemed almost oblivious as you continued roaming them over his front.
“Because we would never catch feelings for each other, obviously,” you informed him with mocking seriousness, making him scoff.
“I assume you told him to fuck off and stop setting you up anyway?”
“Nope.”
“Huh?”
You finally put a hand under his shirt to touch his bare skin, and he shivered and jerked away instinctively.
“Ah! Cold hands, baby,” he whined, but made no further moves to get away.
“Then let me warm them up, Sungie,” you giggled, pressing your fingers more intentionally against his skin. “Anyway, why would I pass up the perfect opportunity to fuck with Hyuck and fuck my hot boyfriend at the same time?”
“I don’t think I like how similar that phrasing was.”
“Sungie,” you dragged out the last vowel pleadingly.
“So you’ve got a scheme?” He asked knowingly.
“A fun one,” you promised, kissing his neck. “In multiple senses of the word. But it means everyone finding out we’re together a few days later than we planned. Is that okay?”
He let out a deep sigh. “Alright. What’s first?”
“I’ve got to hold up my end of the deal, of course.”
Donghyuck and Jeno were quick to swarm you first thing in the morning. They at least brought you a coffee this time. There was no work up on your computer yet for Hyuck to close out of, so he just made himself at home on top of your papers that were on your desk instead.
“Okay, we need to brainstorm,” Hyuck got right to business as Jeno dug into your candy bowl. Well, not the business you were actually sitting inside of, but his plot. “The holiday party is on Friday. I’m thinking if you start being a little flirty leading up to it, like casual, you know, not too much, that should warm him up.”
“The more planning you put into this, the creepier it gets,” you informed him, taking a sip of your coffee.
The elevator dinged then, and Jisung stepped off, eyes focused on his feet as he hurried off towards the break room. The elevator opened towards your side of the floor, while bookkeeping was on the other side, and the breakroom, storage closet, and copy room were situated at the midpoints on the floor.
“Jisung’s late?” Jeno commented, bewildered. “Didn’t he say he always gets here ten minutes early to make his coffee before everyone else?”
Hyuck looked at this as well, eyes narrowing. He turned back to you and Jeno. “Did you guys see that big hickey on his neck? Now he’s running late and wearing the same tie as yesterday? This is why we need to help him. Anyway—”
You shifted in your seat then, readjusting your blazer so that it ‘accidentally’ pulled your blouse just enough to show off a love bite situated on your collarbone.
Hyuck actually froze in place, staring at you as he short-circuited. Jeno gave you a quiet, short round of applause.
“Damn, you work fast,” he commented.
You looked down at where Hyuck was staring, as if belatedly realizing your mistake, moving your neckline back up to cover it again.
“You really…” Donghyuck trailed off, blinking rapidly as he began rebooting.
You shrugged. “Didn’t want to announce it like we were in a locker room.”
“He’s walking over here,” Jeno coughed under his breath.
And sure enough, Jisung approached your desk. He looked uncertainly at Donghyuck sitting next to you, and ended up standing by Jeno behind the ledge, finally looking you in the eye.
“H-Hi, Y/N,” he stuttered nervously.
“Morning, Jisung,” you greeted him brightly. “Kiss?”
“Huh?!” He squeaked.
“Hershey kiss?” You pointed to the bowl that Jeno was grabbing another candy from. “They’re caramel filled.”
“O-Oh. Sure, thanks.” He took a green one. “S-See you later.”
“Bye.”
With that, Jisung skittered away, back off towards bookkeeping. Hyuck and Jeno both turned to you with wide eyes.
“I’ve made a grave miscalculation,” Hyuck whispered.
“That boy is pussy whipped,” Jeno whistled lowly.
You rolled your eyes at them. “Or maybe you guys were looking at the two of us with flashing ‘I KNOW YOU HAD SEX’ signs over your heads.”
“Oh, did I forget to leave that at home again?” Hyuck replied snidely, mockingly swatting just above his head. He then leaned in to whisper-yell at you, “Do you actually have the cure for cancer in there because what the hell was that?!”
“Good morning, Mr. Suh!” You chirped at your boss as he walked by.
Hyuck sat up straight, saluting to your boss. “Good morning, Mr. Suh!”
“Mornin’, Mr. Suh,” Jeno said through a mouthful of candy.
“Morning, morning, morning,” Mr. Suh greeted each of you in turn, then yawned. “Ugh, is it Friday yet?”
“Not quite, unfortunately,” you chuckled.
At home that night, you were keeled over with laughter on your couch, clutching your stomach as you and Jisung recalled the looks on your coworkers’ faces this morning.
“Who knew you were such a good actor, Sungie?” You choked out through laughter, wiping at your tears.
“I just had to act like I was madly in love with you, that wasn’t acting, baby,” he smiled fondly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. “I’ve had to act every day at work except today.”
“So smooth, Park Jisung,” you giggled, kissing him.
“It’s the truth.”
“I know. You’ve never been smooth, just honest. And I love that about you.”
“Ouch, and also thanks?”
You snickered and kissed his pout. “Ready for tomorrow?”
Stepping off the elevator in the morning, you didn’t spare another glance to Jisung, who had ridden up with you. Typically, you would take separate elevators, one of you waiting for the next one, but today, you broke that rule. You dropped off your purse at your desk before going to the break room and making your usual cup of coffee.
Jeno and Donghyuck were already waiting for you at your desk. You rolled your eyes at them. “You two have your own desks, you know?”
“You and Jisung got here at the same time,” Jeno stated.
“Is there a question in there?” You raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of your coffee.
“Did you get a new shampoo?” Donghyuck asked, leaning forward to sniff the air around your head.
You swatted at him. “Personal space?”
“That doesn’t smell like a woman’s shampoo…” He went back in for another sniff.
“Quit it, freak!” You rolled away from him.
“What’s happening?” A third voice had joined you all, right on time. Jisung was at your desk, cup of coffee in hand.
“Nothing, Jisung.” You threw on a bright smile, scooting back up to your desk. “What can I do for you?”
“I-I just uhm, I wanted to say good morning. And I brought you some coffee.” He offered the cup out to you.
“Aw, thanks,” you said sincerely, then looked down at your own cup on your desk regretfully. “But I already got some.”
His face fell. “O-Oh. I guess I’ll—”
“Hold on, Jisung!” Donghyuck stopped him from leaving, hopping off your desk. Jisung froze in place as your coworker grabbed his arm. First, he took the coffee from his hand and set it on the ledge behind your monitor, then he grabbed your boyfriend’s collar and yanked him down to take a deep whiff of his hair. Jisung yelped at the rough treatment, arms flailing until Hyuck let him go, giving him a loud slap on the shoulder. “That’s all. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Lunch later?” Jeno offered to him. “All four of us.”
“S-Sure,” he looked at you and blushed before hurrying away.
You crossed your arms as you glared at Hyuck. “You literally just assaulted him.”
“And you—” He pointed at you dramatically, “—slept with him again. That’s his shampoo that I was smelling on you.”
“I think my extracurriculars are none of your business.”
“Mm, Jisung’s more of a co-curricular, don’t you think?”
Jeno snickered.
“I think it’s still none of your business.”
“This wasn’t the plan, Y/N.”
“I did your stupid plan, Hyuck. Why are you so obsessed with Jisung’s sex life? Is it because you’re not getting any?” You taunted.
“Nice attempt to deflect, but the plan was to get him to stop being strung along by that other girl. Not for you to start stringing him along.”
“You make me sound like an evil witch.”
“So you’re serious about Jisung then?” Hyuck gasped mockingly. “Adorable. Gonna be each other’s date to the holiday party? When are you meeting the parents? Have you picked a ring yet?”
You bit down on your lip and looked at your lap to avoid laughing, which he thankfully seemed to interpret as guilt on your part.
“Exactly as I thought,” he said smugly.
“The puppy love thing is cute now, but it’s probably best for working together in the long run to just let him down easy sooner,” Jeno gave some surprisingly wise advice through a half-eaten Hershey’s kiss.
Having composed yourself, you finally let out a contemplative, resigned sigh. “Yeah, you guys are probably right.”
“Always are,” Hyuck tsked.
Lunch was honestly kind of fun—It felt like being a kid with a crush again, sneaking glances at Jisung, trying not to be too obvious about your flirting, and playing innocent when your coworkers would shoot you pointed looks every time Jisung did something totally head-over-heels for you.
Mid-afternoon, and Jisung was back at your desk. He had a few papers in his hand, some flimsy excuse of questions about the receipts he’d picked up last week, but really, you two were just talking. Discussing what to make for dinner, additions to the grocery list, what you were working on, little things.
The sound of a door opening caught your attention, and you looked over to see Mr. Suh coming out of his office. He’d just been on a phone conference, and had his empty coffee mug in his hand.
“Hi, Mr. Suh.” You sat up a little straighter. “Afternoon decaf?”
“Yep.” He lifted the mug in greeting as he walked by, heading for the breakroom.
“I’m going back to my cage with the other bookkeeping gremlins,” Jisung murmured. “Don’t want him to catch me still here when he gets back.”
“Laser beams aren’t going to come out of his eyes and incinerate you on the spot if he does, you know,” you giggled.
“How do you know?” He tapped your desk rhythmically, then mouthed, ‘See you later.’
You mouthed it back, contentedly watching him walk away. You were back to working on your reports when Mr. Suh returned from the break room. He drifted over to your desk, however, standing against the ledge conspiratorially.
“Was that the new kid in bookkeeping?” He asked lightly, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, Park Jisung,” you informed him. At your boss’ inquisitive lean forward, you gave a little more context, “He picked up those receipts last week and Hyuck ended up inviting him out for lunch with us.”
“He seems to be over here quite a bit recently.”
“We chitchat sometimes.” You paused, then widened your eyes. “Is that a problem? Nothing’s been late or anything, has it?”
He gave you his usual easy-going smile. “It’s fine, Y/N. Your work has been great as usual.”
“Okay, good.”
“Hi, baby,” Jisung greeted you brightly that evening from your usual meet-up place after work. If neither of you had to stay late, or had an errand to run after work, you would meet up outside a cornerstore a couple blocks away from the office.
“Hi, co-curricular,” you beamed back, leaning into the kiss he was pressing to your cheek.
He pulled away with an adorably confused pout on his face. You laughed, taking his arm in yours as you started down the sidewalks together, relaying your conversation with Hyuck and Jeno this morning.
“I don’t know what’s funnier, the idea of me genuinely ‘stringing you along’ or your new nickname,” you giggled, squeezing his arm.
“You already changed my phone contact, didn’t you?”
“I put a heart next to it!”
“The rumor has spread to bookkeeping, by the way.”
You blinked at him in mock surprise. “You guys have office gossip over there?”
“Yeah, we finally invented the wheel and have time to gossip now,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “Huang Renjun told me he heard Song Minji and Park Chaeyeon talking about it in the copy room.”
“That’s how it breached containment,” you tutted. Chaeyeon was from your department, but you knew she and Minji were office friends. She must have overheard it from your area—Hyuck wasn’t exactly the quietest man you knew, and there was no way your other coworkers hadn’t noticed Jisung’s frequent trips to your desk if Mr. Suh had.
“Uh-huh.”
“What exactly were they saying? Did Renjun tell you?”
“Some stuff he didn’t want to repeat about you—” He cleared his throat. “But mostly, he wanted to ask me what, if anything was true. I felt bad lying, I like Renjun.”
“Yeah, he was my favorite bookkeeping gremlin before you started.”
Jisung elbowed you, obviously offended. “I still did bookkeeping before I worked here! I just did it somewhere else!”
“He was my favorite at this company before you started. Better?”
“Much.” He smiled as you leaned in to kiss his nose. “I told him the rumors weren’t true.”
“That wasn’t a lie!” You reminded him emphatically. “We’re not just coworkers with benefits, or co-curriculars, or recently started secretly dating, or whatever!”
“I’m just glad we only have two more days of this.” He laced his fingers with yours. “I want to be able to have a picture of us on my desk, and talk about you to everyone, and show up and leave together.”
“Me too,” you agreed, fond smile on your lips as you approached your front door. “It’s been fun, but the best part will be when everyone knows you’re mine. For real.”
This was weird. You had been at work for thirty minutes and hadn’t seen nor heard Hyuck or Jeno. Maybe today would be normal for once. As soon as that idea had crossed your mind, they came beelining for your desk, and you knew that would be impossible.
“Good—” You couldn’t even get a friendly greeting out of your mouth, Donghyuck fully sitting on top of your keyboard, entering a bunch of random characters into the email you had been writing. “Uhm, you know, that email to Mr. Suh wasn’t important, actually…”
Yanking your keyboard out from under Hyuck, you deleted the gibberish and saved the draft email before setting it aside to deal with whatever was going on. You looked at your coworkers expectantly.
“Y/N…” Jeno surprisingly took the lead. “How did you go about letting Jisung down easy?”
You blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? I just told him we should keep it professional and not see each other anymore…? And that was it.”
“And how did he take it?”
“Fine?” You glanced between their extremely serious demeanors with increasing worry. “Why? What’s going on?”
“We just had to comfort a crying Jisung in the men’s room for the past thirty minutes, that’s what’s going on!” Hyuck finally hissed. “I don’t think your easy is very easy!”
You leaned away from him in utter shock. That was definitely not part of the plan today, and now you were genuinely worried about why your boyfriend was apparently crying in the men’s room—he definitely wasn’t a good enough actor to do that on the spot.
“Woah, I didn’t—”
“Well, you did.”
“You don’t get to pin all the blame on me here,” you shot back immediately. “Whose stupid fucking plan was it for me to sleep with him in the first place anyway? If I recall, you never found him crying in the bathroom with his last girl that you were so concerned over.”
“You diverted from the plan and he got attached!”
“Okay, it’s everyone’s fault!” Jeno cut in decisively.
“What’s everyone’s fault?” Mr. Suh stopped by your desk, briefcase in hand as he had just gotten into the office. “There’s been an awful lot of whispering going on over here. Something I should know about?”
“No, Mr. Suh!” Hyuck chirped brightly. “Lunch plans fell through, we’re just rescheduling.”
Your boss looked at you skeptically, waiting for confirmation. You nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, lunch plans.”
“Alright.” He shrugged. “There’s a good sandwich place a block over. If you’re looking for recommendations.”
And with that, he went into his office.
Turning back to Hyuck and Jeno, you whispered, “I swear to God, I wasn’t expecting him to be crying. Okay?”
“We’re being a little harsh on you,” Jeno admitted quietly. “We should all just leave Jisung alone, I think.”
He took a candy out of your bowl and departed your desk without another word. Hyuck followed, still shaking his head. You quickly brought your phone out, immediately texting Jisung.
[you: BABY SOS]
He texted back immediately
[co-curricular 🩷: IM HERE]
[co-curricular 🩷: WHAT’S WRONG????]
[you: im fine but are YOU okay?!]
[you: jeno and hyuck told me they found you crying in the bathroom]
[co-curricular 🩷: oh nonono im okay baby i promise]
[co-curricular 🩷: im in the copy room, can you come so i can explain?]
[you: omw]
You hurried from your desk to the copy room, relieved to find it devoid of any coworkers except Jisung, who was attending to a copy machine, placing documents on the glass, closing the lid, and copying them in a steady rhythm.
“Sungie,” you breathed out in relief, darting over to him, needing to see his face for yourself.
“Hey, baby, hey,” he said soothingly, letting you wrap an arm around his waist and lean into him affectionately. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You stepped back, cognizant of the fact that any of your coworkers could enter at any moment. “So what were Hyuck and Jeno talking about then?”
“When we got in this morning, the temperature change from the cold air outside to the heat inside the building was making my eyes water and my nose run,” he explained, gesturing to his face. “I went to take care of it in the bathroom. Donghyuck and Jeno ran into me while I was cleaning myself up and assumed I had been crying. Nothing I said could convince them otherwise, and they of course also assumed it was connected to their advice to you to let me down easy. So I played along. I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but I couldn’t get them to let it go.”
“I was almost feeling bad about lying to them, but they do this to themselves.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall next to his copy machine. Your tone softened as you added, “I’m really happy you’re okay, Sungie.”
“I’m happy you checked on me so quick, baby.” He smiled, taking a step closer to peck your forehead. He lowered his voice to say, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you murmured, looking up at him, fighting the urge to just grab his suit jacket and kiss him. “Lunch later?”
His nose wrinkled with distaste. “Are Hyuck and Jeno coming too?”
“Just us? At home?”
“Oh?”
“I miss you.”
He nodded. “I miss you too.”
It was finally Friday, finally the day of the office holiday party. You just had to survive work and lay the last couple breadcrumbs, then it would all be over tonight.
You were making your morning cup of coffee in the breakroom with Hyuck and Jeno, and went to engage them in conversation. “Are you guys bringing anyone to the party tonight?”
“Nah.” Hyuck poured his own cup.
“You’re not beating the ‘no bitches’ allegations.” You clicked your tongue.
“I think it’s a bit weird to bring someone you’re not like… properly dating to a work event and introduce them to your coworkers,” Jeno answered, rooting through the employee fridge.
“So that’s a no?”
“Correct,” he mimicked your taunting tone of voice.
Jisung, who had been quietly measuring out sugar into his own cup of coffee at a far counter, apart from your conversation physically but definitely within earshot, inserted himself then, “I’m bringing a date.”
Jeno hit his head on a shelf in the fridge. “Shit—! Huh?”
“You are?!” Hyuck blinked at him, utterly shocked.
You slowly turned around to face Jisung, cocking your head. “Oh, me too.”
“Since when?!” Hyuck snorted.
“Just because I didn’t tell you about it doesn’t mean I haven’t had one,” you hissed.
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Jisung nodded, and you saw the corner of his lips twitch, ever-so-slightly, too small for anybody who didn’t know him as well as you to catch. “Guess I’ll see you and your date tonight, then.”
“Same. You, as well.” You nodded curtly, watching him pivot on his heel and stride out of the breakroom.
“You don’t have a fucking date,” Hyuck stated dryly as soon as he was no longer in eyesight.
“That was hard to watch,” Jeno said, opening a Tupperware of food that definitely had somebody else’s name on it.
“And neither does he,” Hyuck continued, pointing to the doorway that Jisung had disappeared through. “No way he’s found somebody in a day. Unless…” He looked at Jeno with alarm. “Oh no. You don’t think…?”
Jeno squinted. “What?”
“What if he brings his toxic situationship to get back at Y/N?” Hyuck gasped. He then turned to you, “Look, I guess I can see if Mark’s free tonight—”
“No,” you cut him off firmly. “I’ve already got someone in mind.”
“So beautiful, baby,” Jisung murmured, taking one of your hands and kissing your knuckles.
“Hey, I’m trying to fix your tie clip,” you laughed, pulling your hand back from him to continue adjusting his tie clip that had gone askew thanks to his seatbelt.
The two of you were standing outside the venue of the office holiday party. You were fashionably late, as part of the plan. You had to make sure Hyuck and Jeno were already there, so they could see you arrive together, wearing your coordinated outfits. Jisung’s tie was of course a complimentary shade of the color of your dress—not too matchy-matchy like kids at a grade school formal, but clearly together, not accidental.
“There.” You smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket, smiling up at him. “So handsome.”
He kissed your cheek. “Thank you.”
“Are you ready?”
“More than.” He grinned, lacing his fingers with yours.
Walking in, instrumental Christmas music was playing over the speakers and a steady hum of conversation filled the room. There were a few familiar faces near the front, but nobody you were overly friendly with. You grabbed Jisung’s shoulder for support as you went to talk to him over the din of the crowd. He hunched over slightly to listen to you better, holding you steady with a hand on your hip.
“Want to get a drink first?” You suggested.
“Sure,” he agreed, keeping his hand on your lower back as you moved through the sea of people.
There was a special cocktail for the night, ‘Mistletoe While You Work,’ which you ordered out of curiosity. Once it was in your hand, you took a sip, and you were pleasantly surprised. Not too sweet, and you couldn’t taste the liquor at all.
“Hey, baby,” you smirked, holding your glass up between yours and Jisung’s faces. “Uh-oh, we’re under mistletoe… kinda.”
Jisung laughed, and you put the glass down to watch his face crinkle up and his nose scrunch in all its adorable glory. “Mm, hard to argue with that.”
You were still smiling as you pressed your lips to his in a short but sweet kiss. He kept you close when you broke apart, an arm still wound around your waist.
“Uhm, Merry fucking Christmas to you guys, too,” Hyuck announced himself, standing off to the side, his own drink in hand and Jeno of course with him.
“Oh, hey guys,” you greeted them nonchalantly. “Merry Christmas.”
“What happened to your dates?” Jeno cut right to the chase.
You and Jisung pointed to each other, making nearly identical faces as if you were oblivious to why Jeno and Hyuck were confused.
Hyuck started buffering as he tried to process the situation. “What…?”
“We’ve been together this whole time,” you finally put them out of their misery, watching as their jaws dropped simultaneously.
“Since before I interviewed, actually,” your boyfriend added.
“Over a year, to be exact.”
“You guys are sick in the head,” Hyuck jabbed an accusatory finger at you both.
“Who was making a whole convoluted plan for me to sleep with one of our coworkers that you barely knew?” You immediately fired back. “You’re lucky we did this instead of reporting you to HR.”
Jeno quickly threw on a wide smile, clapping Jisung on the shoulder. “You fit in great here, Jisung.”
“Glad to have you on the team.” Hyuck went to hug Jisung, making him stiffen up at the unexpected affection. Your coworker then gestured to both of you, putting a hand over his chest. “You two are so adorable together. What a great couple. I’ve said that from the beginning, right, Jeno?”
“You thought they would’ve had awful chemistry.”
“Would it kill you to back me up for once?” Hyuck turned his ire on your other coworker.
Mr. Suh walked up to the bar then, putting his order in with the bartender before greeting you all. “Ah, hello, everyone. Merry Christmas.”
A chorus of hellos and Merry Christmases rang out in response.
“Was Mr. Suh in on it?” Jeno asked you.
“Whatever ‘it’ was, no, but now I wish I was,” Mr. Suh answered, clearly intrigued by this conversation.
“Y/N and Jisung are dating!” Hyuck immediately tattled, and you rolled your eyes at his childish tone.
“There’s nothing against the rules,” your boss said calmly. Then, he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Especially if the relationship predates one of you working here.”
You and Jisung exchanged a surprised look, making Mr. Suh laugh.
“Okay, I had a hunch, but that was the confirmation I needed,” he chuckled. “When I’d see Jisung at Y/N’s desk alone, I don’t know—you two seemed way more comfortable around each other than two people who had only talked for the first time a week ago. No matter how much you liked each other.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hyuck gawped.
“It didn’t seem like any of my business.”
⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon
TAGLIST
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#park jisung x reader#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#bjnet#park jisung imagine#nct dream imagine#nct imagine#nct fluff#jisung x reader#park jisung fluff#jisung fluff#jisung imagine#nct dream fluff#i: jisung#writing#text#mine#f: mistletoe while you work#2024hmm#sungie#bias tag
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if all else fails, i was myself
bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k
info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic
katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.
he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.
it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).
things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—
“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.
he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.
"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."
he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”
“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”
kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.
when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.
because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.
the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.
(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)
no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.
but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.
with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.
he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”
there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”
it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.
he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.
and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.
fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.
he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.
it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.
and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.
he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."
and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.
you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.
but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.
he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.
sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.
sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.
sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—
it was too much.
so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.
hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.
if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!
he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.
and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.
he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.
it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.
and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."
you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.
"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"
"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."
the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"
his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."
your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"
"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."
"kissing?"
somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.
"at all?"
he nods.
"just—like touching, and stuff?"
it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."
"oh."
you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.
"so you don't go on dates, or anything."
"haven't tried."
"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.
"doesn't make sense to."
"that's not what i asked."
it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.
considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.
he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"
you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."
"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."
"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.
he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"
you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."
this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."
"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.
"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."
your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"
"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."
you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.
here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—
he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.
but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.
that's it. you make him feel wanted.
the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.
he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.
so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.
but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.
you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.
he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?
"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.
he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.
your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"
"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is something he fails to do.
"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."
"i'm not."
"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"
"you're not."
"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."
it's okay, you know. "i don't know."
"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."
katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"
you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"
"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"
just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.
you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.
your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.
you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.
his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.
you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"
he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.
kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.
so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.
put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.
he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.
"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.
you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."
"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."
"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."
and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.
the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.
#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bkg#fics#heehee idk even.... what this is. back on my angst bullshit. but it was fun to write!!!!#would love to be on here more often and write more little things like this would love if life wasn't like incredibly busy all the time
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You Go To See A Christmas Carol Part II
Not even in the theatre yet and things are already going wrong among the brothers and a joke by MC quickly and legally escalates.
You watched Lucifer drag Mammon to the parking lot across the street and knew you’d been right that Mammon had messed something up. Someone else was watching this happen from the balcony and decided to assist.
MC: “Barbatos? Why aren’t you with Diavolo?”
Barbatos: “I spotted a certain troublemaker and thought I’d help.”
MC: “Mammon?”
Barbatos: “You are most correct.”
Leviathan: “Wait, don’t leave me, I’m getting this on video!”
MC: “Levi you should probably stay here…”
Leviathan: “This is gonna get so many views on DevilTube. Lol.”
Lucifer: “What were you thinking you idiot?”
Mammon: “I forgot!”
Lucifer: “You forgot about thirteen different weapons?”
Mammon: “No! I forgot about seventeen!”
Lucifer: “Where the hell are the other four!?”
Barbatos: “Shall I help you look for them?”
Lucifer: “Good, Barbatos, you’re here. Please extend my apologies to Lord Diavolo.”
Barbatos: “That won’t be necessary he’s been watching from the balcony, I haven’t seen him so entertained in a long time.”
Mammon: “What the hell?!”
Barbatos: “Silence. Why don’t we find those four other weapons you mentioned?”
Mammon: “I was wrong, it was definitely thirteen!”
Lucifer: “Is that what the metal scanners and pat down will say?”
Mammon: “…”
Barbatos: “You thought it wise to lie to us?”
Mammon: “Someone save me!”
You looked up from your phone after hearing a bit of noise when you remembered that Mammon getting beaten up by Lucifer was not a common practice in the Human world.
MC: “Well…shit.”
Leviathan: “Looks like a crowd is forming.”
MC: “Yep, this is gonna escalate fast…”
Asmodeus: “I got the popcorn— AHHHH!”
Asmodeus: “Beelzebub you gave me a heart attack!”
Beelzebub: “Mmmmm.”
Belphegor: “Is that what human world cop cars look like?”
MC: “Yep. Wow. Three of them.”
Leviathan: “Huh? They just walked away!?”
Asmodeus: “Well that’s boring.”
Diavolo: “Of course they did.”
MC: “Dia!”
Diavolo: “MC! I’m so glad you could make it!”
Belphegor: “So…do the cops just not care?”
MC: “That’s definitely how it’s gonna get reported after seeing that.”
Diavolo: “Barbatos just used a bit of hypnosis that’s all. Oh, MC, I think someone is looking for you?”
You looked to see the officer you’d joked with earlier coming up to you, looking sincerely concerned, and you realized you may have made a mistake.
Security Officer: “Excuse me, I’d like you to have this.”
MC: “Oh, why thank you, Sir…”
Asmodeus: “What? What did he give you, his number?”
MC: “Some sort of phone number.”
Leviathan: “The fights over now so I’ll just look it up.”
Leviathan: “Uh…it’s the helpline for victims of….traffic accidents?”
MC: “Huh? No way it says that.”
MC: “………..I think I messed up…”
Belphegor: “Are you okay MC?”
MC: “No. I was making a joke, just telling him how I met you and I think maybe he thought I was serious…”
Diavolo: “How we met? You mean summoning you?”
MC: “Summoning…kidnapping…same thing.”
Diavolo: “Ahahahaha!”
Leviathan: “Are you sure you should be laughing…”
Beelzebub: “I’m out of popcorn.”
Asmodeus: “Ugh already! That was so expensive.”
Leviathan: “Satan, you came back. What are you drinking?”
Satan: “Some kind of tonic?”
Diavolo: “Hide it, quickly!”
Satan: “Hm? What?”
Diavolo: “I’d rather Lucifer not know there are bars here, especially given how things are going already.”
MC: “That sounds like a fun time, at least he’ll be smiling.”
Diavolo: “I don’t like his scary smile.”
MC: “I think it’s hilarious.”
Asmodeus: “Only cause you’ve never had to deal with the aftermath of one of those!”
MC: “He tried to murder me like three times.”
Leviathan: “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”
Satan: “To be fair he wasn’t smiling.”
Asmodeus: “See!”
MC: “I’m going to sit down somewhere, tell me if anything catches fire.”
Satan: “Why would it?”
MC: “At this point why not?”
Mammon was back in line dragged past a crowd of worried and angry people and set right in front of the guard who was very anxious to have these people back in his normally calm line.
Mammon: “…”
Guard: “N-name…”
Mammon: “Mam— OW! Matthew…fucking ugly ass stupid bastard name…”
Guard: “…”
Guard: “You may proceed…”
Lucifer: “I apologize for my brother’s antics. Here’s a tip for your troubles.”
Guard: “R-right…”
Lucifer: “I’ll leave a good word with your managers. I never did get your name?”
Guard: “My name is…Matthew.”
Lucifer: “…”
Mammon: “…Shit, my bad man…”
Lucifer: “Stop talking.”
Mammon: “Fine.”
Guard: “…have a good show.”
Everyone was finally together outside the main entrance.
Diavolo: “Lucifer, so glad you could join us.”
Lucifer: “I apologize for our late arrival.”
Diavolo: “No need to apologize, I’m just glad we’re all here before the show begins.”
Lucifer: “I need a drink.”
Satan: “There’s plenty of Demonus waiting at home. This is a proper theatre, alcohol isn’t allowed.”
Lucifer: “I’m aware.”
Diavolo: *winks at Satan*
Satan: *nodding*
Barbatos: “Young Master why don’t we go find our seats.”
Diavolo: “Yes, let’s. We’ll have a chance to sit and talk before the show that way.”
Lucifer: “Right. Come along, everyone. Where’s Beelzebub…”
MC: “Popcorn machine.”
Lucifer: *sigh* “MC please keep an eye on him.”
MC: “That’s the plan. Diavolo save me a seat.”
Diavolo: “Next to me?”
MC: “Please.”
Diavolo: “Haha! Certainly.”
Leviathan: “Stupid normies…”
MC: “What was that?”
Leviathan: “Nothing!”
Belphegor: “I’ll stay with MC.”
Satan: “Okay. Levi lets go. There are pretzels upstairs.”
Leviathan: “I’m not a kid!”
Satan: “Fine. I rescind my offer.”
Leviathan: “Wait, I didn’t mean that!”
You sighed and leaned into Belphegor as you stood there watching Asmodeus talk his way into more bags of popcorn than he was paying for as Beelzebub wolfed them down just as quickly, scaring some children in line.
Luke: “MC!”
Belphegor: “Huh?”
Luke: “It is you! I knew it!”
MC: “Luke!? What are you doing here?”
Solomon: “We heard Diavolo invited you and the brothers to a human world play so I thought we’d come along.”
MC: “You invited yourselves?”
Solomon: “Sort of?”
Simeon: “We wanted it to be a surprise. Solomon got the same box too.”
Belphegor: “As long as Luke doesn’t kick the back of my seat it’s fine.”
Luke: “Keep talking like that and I might. Hmph!”
Simeon: “Now, now Luke. Oh my…that’s a lot of police officers did something happen?”
MC: “Oh dear…Belphie go get Asmo and Beel, we’re going upstairs now.”
Solomon: “Did something happen?”
MC: “Sort of. You should probably not be seen with us right now, why don’t you go surprise the others upstairs.”
Simeon: “…Right…that seems most advisable.”
Solomon: “Let us know if you need anything.”
MC: “Bail money possibly.”
Solomon: “Haha! You’re so funny MC.”
MC: “I wasn’t joking.”
Beelzebub: “I want more—“
Asmodeus: “No time for that hon, let’s get to the elevator.”
Belphegor: “Why are the lights flashing?”
MC: “It means the play is starting soon. We have to hurry. Just don’t run we’ll be more suspicious that way.”
Asmodeus: “Well, none of us beat Mammon up so we should be fine?”
Beelzebub: “It’s the guard…he looks kinda upset?”
MC: “Pardon?”
Guard: “That’s them.”
Cop A: “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
MC: *whispering* “This is America you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”
Asmodeus: “Okie dokie.”
MC: *sigh*
Cop A: “This guard here tells me you know who we’re looking for?”
MC: *panicking* “What guard?”
Cop A: “…”
Cop B: “…”
Asmodeus: “…”
Beelzebub: “…”
Belphegor: “Good one, MC.”
Guard: “Those four were with the others. I don’t know where the green one came from.”
Beelzebub: “The green one?”
Asmodeus: “He means Barbatos.”
Cop B: “So you do know him?”
Asmodeus: “Oopsie.”
Belphegor: “Don’t “Oopsie” me. Stop talking.”
Asmodeus: “But my voice is so pretty that’d be a crime.”
Beelzebub: “I’m getting more popcorn.”
Cop A: “Please stay here, sir.”
Beelzebub: “But I want popcorn.”
MC: “Officer I’ll answer all your questions, that man is…uh…special…he really just wants popcorn. He’s harmless.”
Belphegor: “Did you just airquote special?”
MC: “Please stop talking Belphie.”
Asmodeus: “Ooh, Lucifer’s calling me, I should take this!”
Cop B: “Lucifer?”
Guard: “That’s what they were callin’ the black-haired one who was beating the other Matthew.”
MC: “Other Matthew?”
Guard: “My name is Matthew.”
MC: “…Did my friend say anything—“
Guard: “Yes.”
MC: “I am so sorry, Matthew is a lovely name.”
Cop A: “I’m going to need to ask you all a few questions. First of all, do you know where the victim is?”
MC: “…no.”
Cop B: “Are you sure about that?”
Security Officer: “Mam, I have something to report as well.”
Cop A: “Right, is it related to the case?”
Security Officer: “To the person there yes.”
MC: “To me?”
Belphegor: “We kidnapped you remember.”
MC: “No that was Diavolo.”
Cop A: “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt but do you have the piece of paper this man gave you?”
MC: “Oh uh…no, actually, Levi took it.”
Cop B: “And Levi is?”
MC: “The purple-haired man…”
Guard: “The convent one?”
Belphegor: “Levi’s gonna love to know that’s how he’s being remembered.”
MC: “Yes, but—“
Cop A: “Why don’t we talk somewhere a bit more private, Officer McGuire can talk with your associates.”
MC: “Oh I’m fine, really.”
Cop A: “Are you being held against your will in any way?”
MC: “Aren’t we all?”
Belphegor: “That’s the wrong answer MC.”
Cop B: “That’s enough out of you.”
Belphegor: “I’m not the one that kidnapped them that was the rich guy upstairs.”
Cop B: “Are you admitting to knowing about human trafficking ploy?”
Belphegor: “Umm.”
MC: “Wait, it’s fine—“
Cop A: “Honey, I’ve met a lot of victims of abduction, you may feel that way now but I assure you it’s not okay what was done to you.”
MC: “I wasn’t kidnapped I was summoned.”
Cop A: “Excuse me? Like in court?”
MC: “Okay this has gone too far… Asmo. Remember how I said not to charm people…”
Asmodeus: “Ooh! Can I!”
MC: “Make this go away please.”
Asmodeus: “My pleasure! Hey Mr Cop, Misses Cop! Let’s go have some fun somewhere! This case isn’t that big a deal, got it!? Also, this is totally unrelated to any traffic accidents just a bit of an exchange program thing, k?”
Cop A: “Sounds good to me.”
Cop B: “Right it’s not that big a deal.”
Guard: “What are you two talking about? What just happened.”
Security Officer: “I don’t understand…”
MC: “Yeah…I don’t know how to erase memories so I’m sorry you’re both stuck with all this but if it’s any consolation I can tell you the truth.”
Guard: “Yes! What is happening here?”
MC: “My name is MC and I am the master of the seven rulers of the underworld, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting each of the seven deadly sins. Have a good evening.”
With that, you entered the elevator and Beelzebub quickly hit the close door button as the two men looked at each other bewildered.
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#obey me shall we date#funny obey me#obey me skit#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me Beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me luke#25 days of obey me christmas#obey me 25 days of christmas
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Advent calendar: Day 20. Misfortunes and Sexullus Phallicus
A/N: This one is about Miss Santa, and let’s say she’s a holiday witch, to make it easier. Also this is very ridiculous and I love it, if it makes you cringe… I’m sorry (but not really). Enjoy! And happy Christmas Eve to those who celebrate!
Miss Santa x fem!reader || magic, sex pollen, dub-con, pegging, sex toys, dirty talk (kinda)
When you started dating Miss Santa, you weren’t expecting to be as many problems as there were. You expected it to be hard, because not everyday you started dating a magical being that could teleport and conjure shit out of thin air, but dang if it wasn’t even worse than you expected.
First week dating, you accidentally activated a magic spell that made all elves lose the holiday spirit for a whole day. Which didn’t seem too bad, but then you had to watch how mad they were when they had to work extra hard to recover that lost day of work. You apologized so many times the word lost its meaning.
When you were dating for a bit over a month, you accidentally sent the big dude (aka Klaus himself) a picture of you wearing only a red hat and two pom-poms… (Yeah, strategically placed.) You had to apologize to him, too, much to his amusement and your girlfriend’s dismay.
But the misfortunes didn’t end there.
You were visiting her in the office, looking around as she finished the paperwork for the day, when you saw a weird looking plant. “What kind of plant is this?” You asked, leaning in and inhaling deeply.
She looked up instantly. “Don’t smell tha-” She warned, but it was too late. “You smelled it.” She sighed, face palming as she stared at you. “What am I going to do with you?” She asked rhetorically.
“What?” You looked at her, confused and blinking slowly. Your brain felt a bit fuzzy. “What did I do now?”
“You inhaled the pollen of the Sexullus Phallicus,” she said as if that explained everything. You looked at her puzzled, expecting more information. “Sex pollen, my love, you inhaled sex pollen,” she said, sighing again and looking completely done with you. But the tiny smile at the corner of her lips reassured you a little.
“What’s going to happen to me now?” You asked, a bit confused, but most of all, a bit scared.
“You are going to get incredibly horny, and you’d be insatiable for a few days.” That didn’t sound too bad. Don’t look at me like that. It is bad. You are going to be needing to be filled constantly.” You smirked, liking the sound of that. “Sometimes I don’t know why I put up with you,” she added, all dramatic.
“Because you love me,” you sing-song-ed at her, smiling big. She tried to hide a mirroring smile, but she failed.
“We are in so much trouble,” she lamented a second later, picking up all the papers she was working on and stacking them in a neat pile. “We need to prepare, we need to move. We might not have enough time to get home…” She was panicking.
“Relaaaax, I’m all fine,” you told her, your hands fanning your suddenly too hot face. And then the pain started. “FUCK.”
She looked up instantly, staring at you and teleporting to your side in less than a blink. “What? What happened?”
“It hurts. It hurts,” you repeated over and over, falling to the ground and adopting a fetal position.
She looked anxious, her face turning a light shade of green. “What hurts, my love? Tell me so I can help.” She kept fussing over you, her hands hovering over your body because she wasn’t sure where to touch you.
“My pussy. I need you to touch my pussy,” you said between pants, your thighs rubbing together but providing no relief at all.
She choked on a breath, and you caught her almost laughing, but the frown on her beautiful face never left. “I gotcha, I gotcha… Don’t worry my love, we’ll get thru this. I’ll fuck you until you are so drained you can’t even blink without thinking about my cock.” Her words made you whimper. You want that. You want her cock.
“Please, Santa, please… I need your cock,” you begged, squirming on the floor, reaching for her and pulling her head down until you could kiss her lips softly.
The moment she snapped her fingers, she was naked and had a harness appeared around her narrow hips. Your heart was beating a thousand miles per minute. “Now, now… Who has been a naughty girl this year?” She asked, teasingly. You almost wanted to laugh at the silly pun, but your pussy was so wet and your clit so needy, that you could only whimper. “Sorry, sorry, my love. You know I joke when I’m nervous,” she apologized. “Are you ready?” She questioned either way, always worried about you.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chanted. She snapped her fingers again and your clothes disappeared. You sighed in relief as she moved over you and positioned her purple dick over your clenching pussy. “Please, Santaaa…” You begged again.
“Whatever you desire, my love,” she whispered. She leaned down to kiss you deeply as her hips thrust forward until she was buried as deep as possible.
“Is not enough, not enough, not enough…” You shook your head from side to side, your body tensing under hers.
“Shit, okay. Okay.” She snapped her fingers again, and you felt your pussy filled to the brim, making you scream her name as you tried to wriggle your hips to get it deeper. “This size better?” You nodded vehemently, grabbing her by the hair and pulling strongly until she whined and started to fuck you with intent.
“More, more, more… Santa, more!” You kept telling her, as she puffed and huffed as she tried to go as deep and fast as possible. She was thrusting so hard your body was moving across the floor of her office, your hands scratching her back until you smelled blood.
It was glorious.
Your first orgasm was earth shattering, and you screamed her name so loud you were sure the big man heard you all across the north pole. But you didn’t care. All the world could be listening and you’d be chanting your love and adoration for her cock for them to hear.
But she didn’t stop. And you didn’t ask her to. You needed more. You needed all. So she kept pounding into you until you came, and came, and came again.
Her strength was starting to flatter after your fifth orgasm, but you still hadn’t had enough. So you flipped her over and started riding her with desperation. She was flushed and sweaty, her hair stuck to her face and her eyes glassy after such an effort. She’d never looked so hot.
At some point, she teleported you to your house, her dick never leaving your hungry pussy. It lasted three days, and she had to make you eat and drink as she kept you full of cock, using special enchanted dildos that kept fucking you even when she left for the bathroom.
By the time it ended, you’d never felt so well fucked in your life. She would never know that you did it on purpose, and you were the one who sent the plant to her…
A/N: Thank y’all for joining me for this Advent Calendar, it’s been so fun to write: I explored some kinks, wrote weird monsters, and overall I think it was a very fun experience, let me know what y’all thought.
#Miss Santa#Santa x reader#Santa x human#Santa x you#monster girl#monster girlfriend#monster advent calendar#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster x reader#terato#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster love#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft
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OUR PATHS | 18. i think i just blacked out (wc: 1k)
YOU tried to pass by jaemin’s desk quickly, hoping to avoid talking to him as you made your way into the office. but before you could slip past, he lightly caught you by the arm, stopping you in your tracks.
“y/n,” he said softly, his tone unusually serious, “can we talk?”
you weren’t sure why you felt the urge to run away again, knowing deep down that this conversation was inevitable. his recent behavior had made that much clear. hesitant, you nodded, reluctantly giving in. “sure.”
the tension between you was palpable, though likely invisible to anyone else. jaemin led you to a quieter corner of the office, away from prying eyes and curious ears.
he took a deep breath, leaning slightly against the wall. his usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced with something raw and vulnerable. “did i… do something wrong?”
you blinked, caught off guard. “what? no. why would you think that?”
he gave you a look—one filled with hesitation and a hint of fear. “because the past few days felt good. really good. like we were finally making progress. and now…” he paused, running a hand through his hair. “now it feels like you’re pulling away again. you ignored me all day yesterday. did i misread things? did i make you uncomfortable?”
you shook your head quickly, guilt settling heavily in your chest. “no, jaemin, it’s not that. i agree… it was great. you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“then what is it?” he asked, his voice softer but no less determined. “it feels like something’s changed, and i don’t want to keep guessing. if something’s bothering you, just tell me. please.”
“it’s not you, i promise,” you muttered, your voice almost too quiet for him to hear. you hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “i guess… i’m just scared.”
jaemin’s expression softened into a slight frown. “scared of what?”
before you could respond, his phone buzzed loudly. he glanced at the screen, his expression torn. “i’m sorry, i have to take this,” he said reluctantly, his gaze lingering on you. “but we’re not done talking about this, okay?”
you nodded, though disappointment flickered in your chest. as he walked away, you took the opportunity to gather your thoughts.
you clutched the strap of your bag nervously as you waited for jaemin to unlock his door. when the door finally swung open, a wave of nostalgia hit you—it was eerie being in his apartment again after all this time. the familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, grounding you even as your mind raced.
from the hallway, luna padded out, her soft meow breaking the silence. she rubbed her head affectionately against your leg, still recognizing you.
“i think she missed you,” jaemin said softly, his quiet laugh easing some of the tension in your chest.
your thoughts were all over the place, unsure whether the night would end in resolution or further heartbreak. the two of you settled on opposite ends of the couch, the space between you feeling both vast and intimate. jaemin sat patiently, giving you the time to speak first.
“i’m sorry,” you began, your voice trembling. “for leaving you on read. for pulling away. i didn’t mean to—”
“it’s okay,” he interrupted gently, his gaze steady. “i just want to know why.”
you hesitated, searching for the courage to finally be honest. “i’m scared,” you admitted, your voice quiet and shaky. “i’ve been waiting for something to go wrong. waiting to wake up and realize this is too good to be true, that any round two of us would just be… a mistake.”
jaemin’s brows furrowed, his expression pained. “why would you think that?”
“because it happened before,” you said, your voice breaking. “you left before. and i know you’ve changed. i want to believe it. i think i already do. but it’s hard, jaemin. it’s hard not to wonder if it could happen again.”
jaemin shifted closer, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. “y/n,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it, “i know i hurt you. and i’ll regret that for the rest of my life. but i’m not going anywhere this time. i’m here, and i’m not just saying that. i’m showing you, every day, that i’m here to stay.”
your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him, his sincerity breaking down the walls you’d built so carefully. “what if i’m not enough for you?” you whispered. “or what if i’m too much?”
“you’re more than enough,” he replied without hesitation. “i’m the one who wasn’t ready back then. but it was never about you or how much i love you. i was still healing from my past, confused… and i hurt you because of it. that’s on me. but i’ve spent every day since realizing what i lost. and i’ll spend every day now proving that i won’t make the same mistake again.”
the room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over you. slowly, he reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek. “i don’t want to rush you, y/n. we can take this as slow as you need. but i need you to be honest with me. that’s all i ask. i don’t care how long it takes—i’ll wait. but i can’t keep chasing you if you won’t let me in.”
you nodded, a shaky smile breaking through your tears. “okay,” you said softly.
“okay,” he echoed, his own smile gentle and full of hope.
the distance between you shrank as jaemin rubbed gentle patterns on your hands.
“but… what if i don’t want you to wait anymore?”
jaemin froze at your words, trying to figure you out. you took a shaky breath before leaning closer, closing the gap between you. tilting your face up, you kissed him—a soft, lingering kiss that felt like both an apology and a promise.
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NOTES | early merry christmas HEHEH. this is my gift to you all. TAGLIST (open!) | @polarisjisung @tommina @luvv4bby @222low @luluvhs @spideykeyring @dudekiss3r @sunghoonsgfreal @jeonghansshitester @injunnie-lemon @eternallyhyucks @njmluvr @n0hyuck @junviadinho @hyunnies-world @hahaechans @p4tyaraujo @baeseungcheolie @untilthesunrises @lotties-readings @mango-bear @angelicaleex @jungaji @luvvhaechan @lionzyon @y4wnjunz @luvandletter @applejaem @pikibell @keeryverse @botchedbrat @mystverse @t-102 @skzfairies @andyprkmyluv @gomdoleemyson @slayhaechan @channnaa @lovekm @sungsgirl @yewshi @hyuksworld @nanawrlds @blondiedae @cottonjaems @dearlyminhyung @kukkurookkoo @awktwurtle @cigsaftersuh @sehunniepot
#jaemin x reader#jaemin texts#jaemin fluff#jaemin imagines#jaemin smau#jaemin angst#na jaemin x reader#jaemin imagine#jaemin scenarios#na jaemin#jaemin#nct dream#nct dream scenarios#nct dream texts#nct dream x reader#nct dream smau#isa writes ✍️#loml <3#fic: our paths 🐇
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Merry Kissmas, Day 23
Merlin has never been so miserable. After what happened over the weekend while Christmas shopping and all the things they said to one another, Arthur pulls a two-point lead. And kisses him like that . Merlin is so confused now. He must have misunderstood everything from the past three days, because he was starting to believe it was possible this was more than a game, but now everything is upside-down again and Merlin is left hanging.
When Arthur texts him, his heart leaps into his throat.
“What is it?” asks Gwen, who has been wonderfully supportive and perceptive throughout this whole ordeal.
“It’s Arthur. He wants me to come to his office.”
“Oh. That’s not necessarily bad, remember what happened last time.”
“Yeah, but would he do that twice? I don’t think so.”
“He probably just wants some privacy.”
“Oh shut up , Gwen.”
She smiles that sweet smile of hers. “Do let me know what happens.”
The blinds covering the glass wall of Arthur’s office are drawn when Merlin arrives. Was Gwen right about the privacy thing? Strange.
“For what purpose have you summoned me to your chambers, my lord?” Merlin asks with a sarcastic bow as he enters and sees Arthur at his desk. The light in the office is dim with the blinds closed and Merlin is certain he’s never seen Arthur’s office like this.
Arthur grimaces. “Don’t call me that.” He stands and circles to the front of the desk and Merlin’s spine stiffens, weirdly terrified that Arthur will kiss him. He should have left the door open for a quick escape. But Arthur just leans on his desk like he did last time. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Why?” Merlin can’t shake his suspicious feeling.
“I’m sorry about what I did yesterday.”
“What?” Of all the things, this is not what Merlin expected.
“I shouldn’t have done that after we basically agreed to keep it at a tie until Christmas Eve.”
“ What ?”
“It’s very near the end. I got a bit carried away. I know I upset you. I’m sorry.”
“That’s—” Merlin bites back his response, not wanting to admit the real reason he needed Arthur off of him at that moment. “Really?”
“Yes. To make it up to you, I want you to kiss me.”
I want you to kiss me . Why would he phrase it like that? This man is insane , Merlin decides. “Hm... I don’t know if I want to,” he hedges.
Arthur looks shocked. “If you don’t, I’ll be forced to kiss you and that will be it. It will be over.”
“Maybe it’s for the best.”
Now he looks hurt. “You don’t mean that.”
Merlin’s chest tightens and he steps closer, but not too close. “Arthur. I don’t want to do this if you don’t.”
“I do. I want you to kiss me.”
Those words again, combined with Arthur’s face, let Merlin believe that he really means it, that the game doesn’t matter anymore, that it’s no longer about points or winning or any of that bullshit and that Arthur really does just want Merlin to kiss him.
Merlin rushes forward into Arthur’s arms, only just making sure Arthur doesn’t kiss him first, and connects his lips to Arthur’s, surprised to find him so receptive, then his mouth opens and Merlin lets himself sink into the kiss, already so familiar and inviting, his hands tangling into Arthur’s hair and jacket, and he allows himself this moment for as long as he can before the thought that this is only a game comes creeping back in and he pulls away, but Arthur looks so invested that he goes back in for another, a short, indulgent kiss that immediately fills him with shame.
“I’m sorry,” Merlin says, stepping back from a surprised Arthur. “I know that doesn’t count.” He puts a hand over his mouth as the realization that he’s basically just told Arthur that this is more than just a game for him washes over him. “I’m sorry.” He turns and flees.
“Merlin—” Arthur calls, but Merlin is already gone.
Gwen notices something is wrong as soon as Merlin gets back to his desk.
“What happened?” she asks.
Merlin shakes his head. “I can’t talk about it right now.”
“After work? I’ll walk with you?”
Merlin turns his downcast eyes up to her with a sad smile. “Thank you.” Arthur may be his best friend, but Gwen is also his best friend. And less emotionally constipated.
Merlin manages to avoid Arthur out of embarrassment for the rest of the day, then slips out with Gwen as quickly as possible. It’s cold and dark out and they hold their coats close against the wind, but the lights of Christmas in the city illuminate their path.
“So what happened?” Gwen asks again.
“I don’t know how to explain it, really. It—it was like... his exact words were, ‘I want you to kiss me.’”
She looks dumbfounded. “That sounds like a good thing.”
“But—it’s just about the game.”
“Oh, Merlin.”
Merlin glances at her. She looks sympathetic, but still a bit exasperated at his idiocy. “There’s more. I kissed him. Twice. It doesn’t count after the first time. There was no reason to do it a second time. He knows. He knows how I feel. There’s no way he doesn’t anymore.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen says again, still patient, just less so. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding him?”
“I know. It’s stupid. But I don’t want him to tell me he doesn’t feel the same way. That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m a coward.”
“That’s perfectly natural, Merlin. This can either go very well or very poorly for you at this point, but I’m sure it will go well. I know he feels the same way about you.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“Merlin, you don’t get it because you’re in there,” she gestures at his face, “but the rest of us are out here, and it’s pretty obvious from where we stand.”
“What do you mean ‘we?’”
“The rest of us in the office. You’ve been kissing each other in front of us for almost a month now. It’s kind of a lot.”
“You’ve been talking about it with them.”
“I don’t need to. I can see it for myself. You two love each other.”
He stares at Gwen in apprehensive amazement, then turns his eyes skyward in agony. “I sure hope so.”
#oh merlin we’re really in it now#merlin#merthur#bbc merlin#arthur pendragon#merlin fanfic#merlin emrys#my fanfic#merry kissmas
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(not so) secret santa | jww
(where you think you're surprising your office crush and he's the one that surprises you)
pairing: wonwoo x reader genre: office!au/coworkers | straight fluff rating: e is for everyone (but this blog is still 18+) word count: ~1.8k warnings: mentions of eating/drinking? and an office holiday gift exchange, that's it
note: merry christmas @highvern! i just thought that you deserved a little treat since you worked so hard on the secret santa collab for @camandemstudios 💕 special thank you to @ugh-yoongi for the office crush concept and the recipe idea. also thank you to @gyuswhore for some brainstorming. i tried to keep to the collab guidelines but it's fine because it's not technically part of it. love you cam!
“Hao I need your help,” you say quietly to your work bestie.
Despite the hush of your voice, it seems to carry more than it should. Or maybe that’s just your nerves over what you’re about to ask. Minghao turns away from what he’s working on and raises one of his perfectly manicured eyebrows at you. He’s really got that down and you hate him a little for it.
“What could you possibly need now?” he asks with a sigh.
“It’s about the office gift swap,” you say, quieter still this time.
“Need a little pointer? Maybe some fashion advice?” he asks sympathetically and you swat at him. That makes him crack a smile where nothing else has.
“No, I need to trade,” you say.
This happens every year in the office. The picks are random and nobody is supposed to know. But, inevitably, several people end up swapping for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they’re looking for a specific person. Sometimes they have a present in mind and their current person won’t like it. It could be anything. This year, you’re the one that’s looking to swap and you’re kind of hoping your bestie won’t ask you exactly why.
“Who do you have?” he asks, which is a little surprising that he’s not asking who you want.
“Mina,” you say immediately. He might be a complete pain in the ass, but you know that you can trust him. Nobody knows more about what’s going on in the office than him and nobody keeps their mouth shut tighter.
Without another word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper that you recognize as the slips for the gift swap. One hand holds the paper out to you while the other opens for you to deposit your own paper in it. You’re just confused looking at him because you haven’t said anything other than who you have.
“I don’t think you get it, I want…” you start and he cuts you out.
“Just take the paper and then see if you still need to say anything to me,” he says.
It’s unusual, even for him, yet you do as he says. You deposit the slip with Mina’s name on it into his hand and take his piece of paper. When you open it, somehow everything makes more sense. Kind of, at least. It’s the person you were actually hoping to get.
“How did you…” you ask, trailing off at the end.
“You’re not that subtle,” he says with his own version of an affectionate smile.
“Thanks, Hao. I owe you!” you say in a low voice.
“I’ll add it to your tab,” he says and turns back to his work.
The best part about the gift swap at your work is that it’s up to each person how they handle giving their gift. There’s no big party where everyone has to swap in front of everyone else. It’s a little non-traditional, but also helpful for people that are a little more introverted. Some people expressed it being easier to just leave the person’s gift at their desk instead of going through some whole big thing.
That suits you just fine. It gives you the opportunity to plan something a little more personal to exchange your gift. Which is how you end up at lunch on a day off with one of your coworkers and feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. You try to tell yourself that you’re confident and he is just a man. But, you also have the fattest crush on him and it makes you a little stupid. (A lot stupid, actually, but that’s your own business.)
Wonwoo comes walking in looking the coziest you’ve ever seen him. It makes you very glad that you got to the restaurant first because this is worth it. The smile on his face when he notices you is soft and it makes your heart skip a beat. He pushes up his glasses and shakes some snowflakes out of his hair. By the time he’s at the table, he’s removing his jacket to reveal a soft sweater. You take a minute to remind yourself that he’s just a man before putting the smile on your face. What’s even better, you don’t say anything stupid.
He lets you make it through ordering before he brings up the obvious. “I’m happy you asked me to lunch, but I was a bit surprised.”
You try to play it off and shrug a bit. “We haven’t gone out to lunch in a while like this and sometimes it feels like we have to rush during work. I just figured…”
“Why not ask me out to lunch to give me my Secret Santa gift?” he asks knowingly. You, being the coolest person in the world, choke on the sip of your drink that you take.
“What?”
“I was sure that Minghao had me because he was asking questions about gaming stuff and then Mina told me about the beautiful scarf that he got her.”
“And that means you think that I have you?” You’re not really sure you follow his logic even if he is right.
Wonwoo only shrugs. “He’s your best friend. I thought he was asking for you. Or maybe he had me and trade.”
“He did have you, but I wanted to switch,” you admit for some reason completely unknown to you.
“You did?” This seems to catch him off guard considering he seems two steps ahead.
Since he wants to bring it up now, you figure that you might as well give him his present. You pull the box out of your bag and hand it over to him. He eyes it for a second before reaching out to take it. His face looks adorably perplexed when he lifts it.
“This doesn’t feel like something gaming related,” he says finally.
You huff out with an eye roll. “Why don’t you just open it?”
He looks amused at your tone and goes to work at opening the paper. He takes a very different approach to you and unwraps it gently instead of pulling it all off. But then, his eyes go a little wide at the gift. It’s hard to read, at least for a moment. Does he like it? Did you do too much? Are you being too obvious?
“How did you…?” His eyes are filled with affection. Like nobody has ever given him something like this and it catches you off guard.
“Do you like it?” you ask, a little unsure. Mostly just to fill the space.
“I love it. How did you find it?” he asks.
“I love fragrances and there are a few small shops that I go to. It’s kind of a hassle because you have to search through the shops, but that’s fun for me. I overheard you telling Hao that you couldn’t find this one anywhere,” you say like it’s nothing.
“And then you traded to get me just to give it to me?” he asks.
“I just thought…” you start and he shakes his head. “Actually, hang on a second. I have to run out to my car and I’ll be right back,” he says.
Wonwoo is up from the table before you can even react to what he’s saying. Even though you know this is just how his brain works, it takes a second for your heart to catch up with that knowledge. It still feels weird to be sitting there by yourself when the server comes back with food, though. When he turns back up, his cheeks are a little rosy from the trip outside and you can’t miss that he’s holding a larger box.
“I’m sorry to run out. I just didn’t want to bring this in if it was really just a lunch,” he says and that doesn’t really explain anything.
“Did you get me in for the gift exchange too?” you ask, confused.
For the first time, he looks a little shy. He looks down for a second like he’s preparing himself. “No, I just really wanted to get you a present. Open it, please.”
You’re skeptical because it’s kind of big and clunky. And, on top of that, you’re confused about why he felt like he should get you a present when you’re not really that close. Or not as close as you’d like to be. When you tear off the wrapping paper, your first reaction is to laugh. There’s a cute little popcorn maker with a container of kernels along with it. But what really catches your eye is the seemingly homemade mustard to go along with it. It probably looks like the weirdest gift to anyone else. To you, though, it’s perfect.
“How on Earth did you come up with this?” you ask through a laugh.
“You hate it,” he says looking a little dejected.
“No, no, no,” you assure him and calm back down. “No, it’s perfect. But, I’ve had people give me such a hard time about popcorn dipped in mustard so I can’t imagine you just thought of it.”
“I actually talked to Minghao about what you might like,” he says sheepishly and your eyes go wide.
Leave it to your traitorous bestie to know that your crush had something like this planned and not even tell you. Of course he’s just sitting there like a little matchmaker. “That little shit. When did you ask him?”
“Before we picked people for the gift swap. I didn’t even think of trying to switch for you,” he says. “It seemed like a good way to say that I kind of like you, especially since you traded to get me.”
There’s something so matter-of-fact about the way he says it. Like it’s just another thing to say. The weather has been really cold. The food is amazing. Work is a pain. Oh, and by the way, I like you. Wait a minute. Your brain finally catches up to what Wonwoo said. It must be clear on your face, too, because he looks amused.
“Did you say you kind of like me?” you ask and that actually makes him laugh.
“Why else would I get a recipe for homemade mustard from Minghao just to surprise you for Christmas?” he asks like that should all be obvious.
“You made it yourself?”
“I had a little bit of help from my roommate because he’s much better in the kitchen, but it’s still homemade,” he says.
“I cannot believe Hao set this all up. You’re over here planning a whole ass present for me and Minghao is letting me stress over whether or not you’re going to like the present I got. And making fun of me for having a crush while you’re over here making me mustard from scratch.”
“Is that really how you’re going to tell me that you like me too?” he asks, impossibly amused by your grumbling.
“Can we have a do over?” you ask and he smiles at you.
“As many as you want.”
i hope you like it and that you're surprised!
#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#svt x reader#svt x you#wonwoo scenarios#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios#thediamondlifenetwork#svthub#kvanity#wonwoo fanfic#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic
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The Baby Project Chapter 7
Summary: All because your back was turned. tw: angst, lost kid, brief assault, panic, idk what else
Yona leads you back to her office after your cry fest. You don’t dare look anyone in the eye. It’s embarrassing enough that Sakura saw you freak out and to face these random people who saw you cry in the foyer would be too much right now. Inside, you inform her of what’s going on.
“We figured it was because of his past.”
You shake your head no. “Not just that. It was everything. I broke the scholarship’s rules.”
“And they brought up Kenji.”
“Kaibara brought that up. How does he even know that?” Yona stretches and rubs her ear. “The brat gave Noa to him. That is the only time they interacted.”
You shake your head. “No, no. He dug deep into Ken and used it against me. Kaibara would’ve had to at least know his name. I never talked about you guys!” Did you? It was months ago and so much has happened in that short time frame.
Yona sucks on her teeth. “Do you think he may have been watching? I don’t know what he looks like. He could’ve come in and heard Ken’s name in passing. He’s a hero,” She sighs and sits on the corner of her desk. “They’re smart. It wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.”
You are silent and take that possibility in. It’s strange and frightening to think he had been watching you all because of twenty bucks. Yona clears her throat. “Pretty, we understand what happened and welcome you back to work but I think you should talk to Ken.”
“Is he mad?”
“Not at you. I think you might be mad at him.”
You straighten up. You didn’t reflect on what you felt towards Ken individually. You knew you would miss him and Yona terribly, but not if you were mad at Kenji. Now that you think about it, only one answer comes to mind. “I’m not mad at Ken.”
Her eyes soften and her ladybug wings settle against her back. “Then go tell him that. He’s been walking around here like a kicked dog.” -
“Ken?” He turns his head a little to see you. Never have you been afraid of Ken. You didn’t judge him for his past since it’s none of your business. Besides, he doesn’t do it anymore. So, why bother him about it? Despite what Kaibara and U.A. say, you don’t let that darkness that festered inside him stop you from loving him. Especially since he hasn’t done it since he paid his dues. To you, he's Ken.
He looks the same since last you saw him. His hair is still in need of a haircut. You run into his arms and squeeze him tight.
“How’ve you been, bub?” As you squeeze him, his back cracks. Ken groans and answers, “I’ve been better, sugar.”
You have so much to catch up on with him and Yona, the customers, the latest gossip on the streets. You want to brag about your grades and Noa, about Izuku even though he’s in the dog house. First, you need to reassure the cook so he doesn’t poison you.
You separate from him and look down. Even though you didn’t have anything to do with U.A.’s decision, you can’t help but feel guilty and complicit. “Ken, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
You suck on your lips and put your hands behind your back. “I didn’t fight hard enough for you. I should’ve defended you more and at least called after I quit.”
He rubs your head. “No apologies needed, kid. It’s not your fault, it’s theirs.”
His pardon puts a big smile on your face. You bounce up and down. “I’m working here again!”
Ken raises his brow. “Yeah? What’d you do, blow up the school and make them cave?”
“No! As long as I’m listed as a volunteer, I’m good.”
“Guess we’ll just have to make people tip.” He swats a towel on your head. “Now shut up and get over here. Cut the onions, I hate doing it.”
-----------
Now that the stress of your finances has been slightly lightened, there is another problem that needs attention. It’s hard to ignore that Noa is starting to have a hitting problem. Recently, he smacked Hana across the face with his toy truck resulting in a scar. You couldn’t apologize enough for it. Ema got over it and understood because Hana's going through the same thing. Kirishima, on the other hand, is still pretty pissed. Since he is Ema’s problem, you’ll leave that to her even though their relationship is still on the rocks.
You don’t really know what to do other than scold Noa for it and put him in time out which isn’t really working. Yona’s advice to have him channel it into something productive is a fine suggestion, but what? He colors already and plays with everyone he comes in contact with, what else? You already make crafts with him, read, and even have him study with you. Noa is two years old. All of this stuff should be gaining his attention.
You write this in your report. The thick pamphlet that is soon to be filled out seems to have more negatives than positives. You sigh and look at his little shelf of books. Lately, all the kids’ books you have aren’t working. He seems more partial to the things you’re reading than anything. Especially The Great Love Story. Although it is a good read, it’s getting tiring. Is it possible that the daring fight with the dragon is affecting him?
Noa pops up from the bed and walks over to you. “Hey, mini man. Did I wake you?” He nods and has a deep frown. You pick him up and place his head on your shoulder, slightly rocking back and forth. “What do I do with you? What should we do to make you stop hitting and getting into stuff? C’mon, what do you like?”
His eyes light up and says with a groggy voice, “Food.”
“Like the cake for Papa?” It still stings mentioning him but he is Noa’s dad and is a part of his life.
Noa nods enthusiastically. Now that you have a spark of relief and happiness, you list foods that the two of you can cook. You take out a notebook and put on the lists he agrees with. Right now, money is a little tight, so you’ll just have to hold him over with smaller and cheaper recipes until you can work your way up with your new chef.
It's strange. You hug Noa with genuine happiness when you see how excited he is.
----------------
Ema rubs her eyes when you enter the classroom with Noa who is wearing his Deku hoodie. He was adamant about matching his Papa. With his hand in yours, you gain the attention of others. “What?”
“He’s tall!” Riko puts her hands on her hips. “I saw you last night and he wasn’t this tall.”
You shrug your shoulders. “He grew?”
The door opens behind you. Snipe looks down at Noa. “I heard you from the outside. I have to say, I think you’re right.” He squats and asks, “Can I see your tummy?” Noa shakes your hand and points. You hum and lift his hoodie. On it is a new number.
“Three years old!” You exclaim. It isn’t that you didn’t notice his growth or care. It’s just news because how in the hell were you able to pull that off? It can’t be something as small as cooking.
“Congratulations to (Y/n) and Noa. The first to reach three years old.” Snipe claps and laughs. You beat Ema of all people? She’s like the golden standard of this project. How in the hell did you beat her?
Noa cheers his own name, making you roll your eyes. This kid has yet to call you mom.
Snipe walks to the podium. The class is silent and waits for him to start the session. Everyone has their kids today and most of them are well behaved. Snipe rubs his face under his mask. “Now, about the caregiver situation-”
“What about-” You start to say. Snipe smacks the podium lightly. “(Y/n)! Enough.”
You raise your hand. He sighs and calls your name. “The caregiver? And-”
“One question at a time for you. The caregiver is one of the students in the support course who,” He looks around and sees all of the kids’ faces. “Um, help Mei Hatsume with the assignment. She’ll take care of them during class.”
You raise your hand again. Snipe groans. “Anyone besides her?”
“The gall…” You mutter. Riko looks at you and then raises her hand. “Now that general studies are starting to be taken seriously, does the class get the same benefits they do?”
Attagirl.
Snipe puts his hand on his hips and stares at you. “I didn’t say it!”
“No, but you put her up to it. Riko, the differences in the curriculum between you and the third year hero course are drastic. So what is allowed with them is strictly because of that. Nothing else.”
How in the hell did he come to the conclusion that you made her do it? You can't control her mind. You may tell people what to do but you don't control them.
You raise your hand again. He glances at you and simply says, “No. Now let’s start class.”
He did nothing but create excuses for them. Of course, he did.
-
Right as you are writing down important notes, in the corner of your eye, you see Noa raise his hand. This should've been expected since he is creating this habit. Alas, you and everyone else didn't realize how far it would go until Noa screams and hits everything. You try to calm him down with things he normally likes. Drawing, his ‘homework’, books and toys, all of it. You grab his offending arm before it swings again, “Listen, boy, you’re young so you don't have survival instincts yet,” He blows a raspberry in your face then stops as quick as he started. “Trust, I will tear your ass up in the middle of this class.”
Snipe begins to scold you. “Hush!” You point to Snipe then turn back to Noa who’s pouting. “Noa, this behavior is over, ‘kay? We’re not doing this. My sous chef can't act like a fool. I will not have a fool for a cook. Act right, wait, and color Mommy a pretty picture so I can put it on the wall over there.”
Snipe puts his hand on his hip. “You cannot pin something on the wall-” Snipe begins to growl at your disregard.
“Bet. Noa, you will behave. If you want to sit on my lap and help, that’s fine. If you want to dance and mind your business, go ahead since it won't hurt anyone.”
He looks like he understands for a second until he looks up defiantly and throws what he believes is a trump card. “I’ll tell Papa-”
“And I will beat his ass too. Papa is victim number one. With a switch and everything because I don’t give a damn. You are going to say sorry, and you will behave."
Everyone remains silent as he apologizes to Akane, his victim. Akane coos over how polite he is and how clear he speaks. Kobeni calls Noa’s name and he wanders to the back of the class to play. Snipe points to you and says, “That is what you don’t do. Threatening is not allowed.”
“Neither is abandoning kids to villains yet here we are.”
“Child-”
“Man.”
Noa bounces up and down, excited that he's running around. Snipe points to the door. “Hallway.”
The hero's foolery must stop.
You get Noa and head to the hallway. “This wouldn’t happen if we had a caregiver.”
In the hallway, Noa tries to do a cartwheel and lands on his face. You suck in your lips so you don’t cackle. Even though you don’t mind what he’s doing right now, you still have to talk to him.
“Noa, I’m going to need you to calm down when we’re in class.”
“Your class!” He makes a point. “I’m bored!”
It’s understandable. You even struggle with it. Unfortunately, it’s something you have to sit through. As a three year old, it must be harder. “I understand Noa, believe me, I do. But baby,” You sit down. “When we’re in class, I need you to be as calm as you can.”
“I’m trying.” He nuzzles in your hand that is gently cupping his chubby cheek.
You give him a kiss. “I know, baby. I also know that you won’t hit anymore, so thank you for that.”
“Trying!” He groans and stomps his foot. You rub his arms and sigh. You know he is. And you also know that the hitting is over. It will be nearly impossible to get him to calm down, though. And everyone else’s kids are active in class, just not as disruptive as he is. It's gotten worse over time.
“I was like you, too. So, I get it! I’m trying as well.” You kiss his forehead. “How about we try together, partner? I’ll bring more of your things and ask to be moved to the back, eh?”
“You’re out here again?” You jump when a voice interrupts you and Noa’s moment. It’s him. Shouto Todoroki walks into the hallway. His dual colored eyes observe both you and Noa. Around the start of this, you felt an intense anger towards him and his whole family. Since then, it’s calmed down due to you being busy with life. Now that he’s in front of you, that anger starts to spark like little embers on wood.
Through gritted teeth, you ask, “What’re you doing here?”
Seriously, how the hell does he know you come out here a lot?
“Looking for my partner.” Then, you notice the infant in his arms. He isn’t wearing his hero costume or gym clothes. He isn’t disheveled or bothered at all. “Why?”
“To give her the baby.” Noa hops over to him. “Lemme see!” He stands on his tippy toes and sees the baby that looks like that one girl. You don’t really know her other than her reaction at the Sports Festival. The only thing that baby has of him is the eye color and pink hair.
“Why?”
“That’s personal.”
“So are us being out here yet you believe you should point it out. Now why are you passing on your responsibility again?”
His face remains the same. Indifferent and a little awkward. “Couldn’t the same be said for you with Midoriya?”
Bitch.
“What’d you mean?” You take steps to him. He shrugs. “You make him the father when Noa has one right next to you. How can you judge me when you pass Noa to someone who isn’t even doing the project?”
“Izuku wants to. I'm not making him!” You hang onto that since he is helping. To others, it must look like you've pushed Noa onto him if they weren't paying attention. It’s embarrassing because you’re aware of how it looks.
“He pities you-” The raise of your hand was quick and harsh. The slap made him gasp and your hand tingly. “I may be a lot of things, but a pitiful creature I am not. It’s you and your family's fault that we’re suffering 24/7. If you would disappear and stop reminding everyone of your father and fine ass brother, I wouldn’t be in this mess!”
His baby sucks on their thumb, totally oblivious. The rage, the hatred, you’ve felt towards him during these last few months come up to the surface. You can’t find it in you to feel bad about slapping him or for anything else. You don’t have sympathy for him. What you care about is you and yours. He and his family, fuck them. Why should you and anyone else feel bad for them? Does anyone doing the project have the energy to?
Fuck the Todorokis. Dabi was fine as hell but his looks can’t save him.
“So, why don’t you just drop out and off the face of the earth?” His face drops. The sick satisfaction of his pain makes you smile from joy.
"Oooh! You smack! I'm telling Papa, ooohh!" Noa points at you accusingly with a smug look on his face.
--------
The plan for a caregiver is brilliant. Everyone in class takes a turn watching the children. Today, it’s Riko’s turn. Tomorrow will be Sakura’s. This plan won’t work during school hours which sucks but hopefully, everyone can come up with something.
Akane shifts her weight on her feet. “You sure you’re okay?”
Riko rolls her eyes. “Yes. Now go study! The kids and I will turn on a show and paint something. Trust me, this isn’t my first time babysitting.”
Another idea pops in your head. “What if during school hours, the caregiver works in the back and we’ll take notes for them? Maybe we’ll do each other’s homework?”
Riko shrugs. “Nah. That won’t work during tests and shit,” She waves her hands around. “We won’t think of that right now. Now is the time to practice so you can kick butt.” You smile at her, grateful that she’s enthusiastic about it and understanding. Lately, U.A. is working on Mineta’s investigation. No one knew that it was a thing until Riko was approached by Mic. Apparently, the questions were checking to see her status. She had told you that they hinted, or implied, that depending on how she is, he may come back. She isn’t sure and hasn’t told you what the questions were exactly. You want to respect her privacy and not jeopardize anything.
“Let us know if you need us,” She nods and sighs. You point at Noa. “Boy, you’ll come up missing if you act up, capisce?”
“Capisce!” He gives you a thumbs up. You wave him goodbye so he can hang out with his friends and Auntie Riko.
In the commons next to the kitchen, you lick your lips and try not to laugh at Hansuke's Hawks’s impersonation. You clear your throat. “Mr. Hawks-”
“Yes?”
You loudly cackle and squat. Hansuke's impression of Hawks is exaggerated. “Why’re you laughing chickadee? Hurry up so I can go get some chicken with Endeavor.”
“Ugh!”
Tears slide down your temples as you laugh on your back. Today, you’re practicing going in front of Hawks with the notes you made. Undeniably, there’s still a lot to do and study for but practice makes perfect as long as Hansuke stops making you laugh.
“That’s another thing we have to work on: your emotions. You tend to get very hot-headed when challenged, (Y/n).” Benio takes a drink in an attempt to collect himself.
“Whew, okay, okay.” You get up and smack your cheeks. “Okay, let’s go.”
Hansuke bounces up and down a little. “So, (Y/n), you say U.A. wrongfully put the baby project onto your course as a way to duck-”
“Ha!” You snort. Hansuke has one hand on his mouth and the other on his hip. His body is shaking from him trying to keep in his laughter. He wears red construction paper taped to his back like wings. On his face are glasses that resemble Hawks’s old costume along with a puffer jacket. He looks ridiculous and his suggestion of putting on Hawks’s eyebrows is too much.
“(Y/n)!” You turn to look at Riko who has her hands on her hips. You perk up. “Is Noa okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine. I’m talking about you! You need to take this seriously.” Before you can retort, she claps her hands. “Chop, chop! Get to work!”
You stick your tongue out at her. In the distance is a creak. You frown and crane your neck to look behind Riko. “Mm, probably nothing.”
“What’d you mean?” She cocks her head to the left. You point behind her. “I thought I heard something. Eh, it’s nothing.”
Riko decides to watch the class study and scold you when you laugh at the bootleg Hawks. Minus the way he’s acting and looking, you’re actually pretty good. There are still some valid arguments he makes but you are getting better. Way farther than when you started.
“I’m gonna go check the kids.” Riko walks off to the corner.
Suddenly, as you are laughing and chewing on your chips, Riko calls out Noa’s and Kobeni’s names. You frown and yell, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah! Those two are probably hiding!” You can hear her footsteps walking around. You lick the red seasoning off your fingers and clap your hands. “Okay, there’s a possibility that Hawks decides that our wellbeing is expendable since there is no for sure evidence of anything physically wrong,” Jule scoffs at your statement. Out of everyone, Jule has gone through physical ailments the most. Kaminari is completely pathetic.
“What I mean is, anytime we have the slightest thing wrong, we need to go to Recovery Girl. When she asks why or how be honest. Tell her what’s going on and that afterward, you want a copy of her report. If she says no, tell her it is your right.”
Benio scratches his head. “Is that written somewhere?” You nod and point to Akane’s text. “Right here.”
You hear Riko scream. Everyone pops up and runs to her. Each parent goes to their child first, except you and Benio. Neither Kobeni nor Noa is in sight.
“What’s going on?”
“I can’t find them! The door-the door is open!” It’s as if time stopped. Your heart doesn’t even beat because it feels like it is filled with lead. “Is…is he upstairs?”
“No, no I looked everywhere. The door, the fucking door is open!” The lead in your heart sinks to your feet. Your instincts tell you to run outside and look for him but you are cemented to the carpet. Your eyes are wide and your face is as frozen as your body. Nothing is registering other than his disappearance. Still, you cannot move.
Benio’s the first to run outside. Sakura is on the phone calling someone. Mira holds onto her leg and looks around. It’s chaotic. Everyone is scaring her. Yet, you still can’t move.
Run outside! Call for him! Call Deku! If anyone can find Noa, it’s his dad. Your feet can’t move, though. Your legs have the heaviest weights in the world on them.
With a quiet voice, you ask, “Did you check everything? My room?”
“The doors automatically lock! Your door is shut.” She apologizes repeatedly. Her eyes are misty. Your voice remains a whisper. “The crawlspace?”
“What crawlspace?” Bit by bit your heart starts to lighten. Riko must not have paid attention to the random chair by that window. That’s where the crawlspace is. You run up the stairs.
“Noa! Noa! Kobeni?! Babies please, please answer Mommy!” You scream as you check every corner. “Do you want to talk to Papa?” Deku’s supposed to come over today anyway. Whenever he doesn’t do his internship or work study, whatever the hell it is, he’s with you and Noa. There’s no doubt in the world that Noa doesn’t know his Papa will be home tonight. Maybe he wants to talk to him right now? Sometimes Noa wants that. Even though you haven’t forgiven Papa, you are still very civil in front of Noa. Izuku is also ‘disappointed’ in you, as well.
For Noa, you’ll cave. Your pride and feelings mean nothing. Your cry goes unanswered. There is only a lonely echo desperately searching for an ear that matches his Papa’s.
You look beside the window with a stray chair next to it. In the small crawl space, there is nothing but a cobweb. You take off to your room to find the door shut and locked. The key fumbles in your hand.
“Noa? Kobeni!” You swing the door open and find no one in the open space. There isn’t anyone in here, you can tell, but your desperation searches anyway. Involuntarily, your body starts to shake. Tucked in your back pocket is your phone. Trembling fingers dial the one person who can find him.
“(Y/n)!” His voice sounds light, surprised, delighted, that you called. “Deku…”
Even though you can’t see him physically, you can tell his smile dropped. “Noa’s missing.”
----------
“Where’s the last time you saw them?” Embarrassingly enough, Sakura called Kacchan who is searching outside the gates. Along with him came the rest of the class. Izuku sticks close to you without a word since he was on the phone. “I’m going to go look. Stay here.”
"I have to go!" Your class is spread around looking for them. You feel safer with him; more secure that he's with you in this. There's no way you can't search with him.
"Shouldn't I be looking for him, too?"
Izuku whips his head to stare into your eyes. They don't look normal. Where there is light, it is becoming tainted with a darkness that makes you tense.
"You were supposed to be looking after him in the first place. Stay here." You press yourself against the wall, wanting to shrink from his gaze. "Stay here, (Y/n)." His nose is flared, and steam is practically coming out of his ears. He runs out of the dorm's commons to go on a mad hunt.
-
You quickly call the restaurant. At the same time, Snipe is yelling at you in the same room fucking Deku left you in with some of your classmates.
“Yona, Noa and Kobeni are missing. Can you look out for him? He knows his way there so he could be headed to you.”
“Of course, baby. What are he and Kobeni wearing?” Your heart is pounding in your ears so loud you can barely understand her. “Um, he’s wearing a red shirt with khaki pants. I didn’t choose that, I swear and Kobeni is wearing a blue sweatsuit, I think.”
“Why is Noa dressed like Jake from State Farm?”
“I don’t know, Yona. He chose it! He took his Deku hoodie off, so he now looks like that.”
Right next to you is Snipe, whose hands are clenched in tight fists. “How can you be so irresponsible?!” Snipe’s mask is off so he can yell at you. Your legs are shaking from the images of Noa in various states. You go to move past him.
“Yona, I need you guys to help me, please! I turned around for two seconds, I swear-”
“I’ve given you a lot of leniencies. Way too much so it seems. This situation and your utter disregard for authority and correction have gone too far. You were irresponsible! Take responsibility now!” He snatches the phone from you and hangs up.
Before you can retort, he continues to growl. “What were you even doing?” Akane tenses up. Her sparkly lips open to answer but you subtly lift your hand to stop her. If Snipe found out what was going on, everything would be for nothing. It hurts that you’re getting the sole blame for it, though.
“You’re judging me? You? Someone who lost an entire teenager?” Snipe growls. “Docked. I’m putting Noa back to two years old.”
“What?!” You can hear Akane gasp. Your face feels warm from all of the negative feelings you feel. From hurt to embarrassment, fear, and anger. All of these are whirling in your body at once like a twister.
“You want him younger? I can do that! We’ll put him back as a newborn so you can start fresh.”
Your shoulders slump. Noa’s come so far and to have that ripped away is cruel. Almost like an artist finally putting the finishing touches on their painting just to have someone come and splatter on it. “Don’t do that…”
“Maybe just scrap Noa altogether?”
“Snipe, stop.” Noa’s former body, the lifeless doll, is something you dread to see again. You should be jumping for joy and relief, but you can’t. He leans into your space. “Two years old and detention.”
“My volunteering-” You can’t afford to lose the income again. He’s turned three and is growing like a weed. You don’t want to be a burden or have Izuku think of him that way. Lord forbid if Kaibara helps with anything.
“Indefinite. Maybe now you’ll get the fucking hint, (Y/n). However long that takes.” His yellow eyes don’t look right. The pupils are dilated too much and the glare is too hard.
You flinch. He has never cussed at you even though you’ve been a mess at times. The remainder of your classmates watch Snipe lose his cool. The heat from your body is too hot. He’s staring at you. Everyone is staring at you. You step back and turn away in shame, hurrying to leave him and this hallway. You enter the dorm’s yard, relishing the fresh air that was taken from you. You’re going all around and immediately stop.
Kaibara stomps towards you. “How could you?!”
You can’t deal with him or Snipe right now. They need to get out of your face and preferably die. Why is he angry? He's never cared about Noa. You run past him until you are grabbed by your arm. “Get off-”
“You had one job. One fucking job and that was to watch him!” He’s squeezing too tight. He, Izuku, and Snipe all have the same eyes. Noa is out there somewhere, and they are busy judging you, hating you. Noa is adventurous. He always walks around, and you always catch him until now. You turned away and are dealing with this. “I-I couldn’t-”
Kaibara shakes you by your arm. “You were supposed to do it!” The sun casts a shadow on him that is all too fitting for his true colors. “Why can’t you do something right? God, I should go to the heroes and ask for a better mother.”
Mother.
You are a bad mom. You’re an awful person, mother, daughter, and student. Noa doesn’t even call you ‘mom’ and now you know why. This look on Kaibara’s face is the same one Izuku and Snipe have. They’re all making this face and saying the same thing. Even Shouto drew to the same conclusion.
You should be a good mother and stop this crusade against heroes. How long will you hold this anger, this pain, that resulted into a fight for a grudge? Kaibara’s angry eyes disappear from your sight. It’s replaced with the vision of Noa’s back facing you and his little feet carrying him away into a fog. As the fog lifts, at your feet is a lifeless Noa with Kobeni’s hand in his. All around are the bodies of the kids you watch grow up.
If it weren’t for you, Benio and the kids wouldn’t be hurt and missing. Your anger and hate have led to Benio’s sorrow and Riko’s guilt. If you weren’t occupied, they all wouldn’t have had to witness your humiliation. They wouldn’t have had to look at you! All because you are a bad mom, Noa and Kobeni are gone.
You whimper as the thoughts run rampant. You close your eyes. The sound of a forceful hit opens your eyes. Kaibara is on the ground with a bloody nose. Above him is Shouto Todoroki who has flared nostrils and a killer glare that isn’t directed toward you.
“I-I need to find him.” You don’t look into his eyes from shame. This whole time you’ve preached about their irresponsibility, and you have fallen into the same trap of stupidity. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll find him.” His hand touches your face. “I’m gonna take you to Recovery Girl, now.”
He wraps his arm around your shoulders. Even though you fall into him, you hate his touch.
"I want to find him, Shouto. I can't leave." He shakes his head no. "You're shaking. I'm not taking any chances."
At least no one is looking at you.
---------
You wait on Recovery Girl’s bed with Shouto. He doesn’t need to stand here with you. “You don’t have to be here.”
“I know.” He answers. Recovery Girl comes up and pats your knee. “Here’s water and a snack.”
What is water and a snack going to do? How’s that going to find Noa?
As if she read your mind, she says in a bedside manner fit for a doctor, “It’s not going to help your predicament with Noa but it will help you. There’s no reason to worry yourself sick. If there is one thing I learned, is that this generation of heroes won't quit.”
There is a reason to worry. Noa is out there in God knows what shape. Worst of all, you are losing touch with reality. Noa's not real, he's fixable. There is a feeling that has eclipsed your anger. Your sense of self is dwindling the more you are affected by this whole thing. Being attached to a doll, letting these people get the best of you, is wearing you down. You aren't this shrinking person. You aren't one to doubt your cause and here you are trying to push it away. The baby project feels like Shigaraki's touch, from the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you decay.
-
“How many times has this happened?”
You say nothing. Recovery Girl sighs. “I knew this project was a bad idea.”
Riko comes in with her hand rubbing her arm. She isn’t looking at you. Hesitantly, she asks, “Are you okay?”
The old hero answers for you. “She’s fine, physically. But I do suggest she rests for the rest of the day. Okay?” The old woman turns to you. “Noa will be fine. There are fully equipped people on the case.”
Recovery Girl pets your head soothingly. Her wrinkled lips move subtly. “This project has gone too far…”
“(Y/n),” Riko’s voice shakes. Right before she can continue, Snipe comes into the room. You sit up and wipe your face. Shouto hasn’t left your side the whole time.
“We have some things we need to talk about now.” Snipe points his finger at you. “First off, what the hell were you doing to let him wander off like that?” He’s already yelled at you. What else does he want?
Riko speaks up, “Snipe-” You wave your fingers. She immediately shuts up. Snipe looks between you two. “What, Riko? What were you about to say?”
She stares into your eyes. If you let her run her mouth, it will reflect negatively on her. With this investigation or whatever on Mineta, what happened will most likely be used against her. What if they let him back in? What if they don’t take anyone else seriously because she isn’t perfect? The heroes already have an opinion of you. They drew to the conclusion that you were at fault before anything was even looked into.
You can’t let the truth be known. If they knew what you were doing during that time, it’d all be for nothing. You could always bring your grade up somehow and protect yourself from failure. But is your grade and vengeance worth what Benio, Kobeni and Noa are going through? If Riko is found out, what would happen to her and the class? To Noa? Even though what they are saying is hurting, you'll keep your mouth shut for your friends and your son.
Aizawa and Nezu come in after Snipe. Riko stands against the wall. Her left eye lets a single tear flow as you are berated for something you didn’t do. The sin you committed was leaving him in Riko’s care. Nineteen children were under her watch. You should’ve known better and not have her watch him. As Nezu scolds you for your actions, you can’t help but harbor resentment towards her and Noa. It's awful, you are an awful person for passing the blame.
Mei comes in with Noa on her hip. Noa smiles wide and waves at everyone. Mei sets him down when he wiggles towards you. She walks quickly to Nezu and hands him a remote. She says nothing to you, nor does she acknowledge you. Something says that it isn’t from disappointment or anger, but dread.
Noa excitedly begins to tell you about his day. “Mm! Kobeni-” He still won’t say ‘mom’. From the corner of your eye, you spot Snipe crossing his arms. You flinch at first. Noa, already three years old and aware of his surroundings, stops mid step.
Nezu gestures. “Now is the time to explain what’s wrong.” They want you to scold him right now. He may not even know what he did wrong. In class, he knows he’s supposed to be calm. However, you never discouraged him from hanging out with his friends. To him, if you punish him, it may shock him immensely. You don't know what to do.
Noa’s slowly coming toward you, very aware of your expression. With a gentle and loving voice, you ask, “Noa, why did you run away? You weren’t supposed to go so far-”
“They are not allowed to leave unsupervised, (L/n).” Nezu is firm with his tone. Your lip wobbles when you look back at Noa, who is looking nervous. “Baby boy, next time you want to walk around, make sure I’m with you. Leaving like that could’ve gotten you hurt.”
He stomps his feet in protest. Eyes study the scene in front of them. Their judgment leaves an unwanted chill along your body that tenses from it. To your dismay, Noa notices. He stops his pouting, confused on why you are acting unusual.
“It’ll be okay, little love. But please, don’t do that again.” You rub his arms.
“Mmm! It’s fun!” You understand. It’s hard for a toddler to sit still. His intentions were good, no doubt. There's a difference with his behavior in this situation than in class. He doesn't know what he's done exactly. He hasn't been taught this yet.
“(L/n),” Snipe calls in a low voice. “Tell Noa to stand still.” Nezu holds the remote with Mei’s chibi face on it. He’s doing it.
“Is this really necessary?” Shouto places his hand on yours. You begin to shake. “Stop, please.” You whisper. Noa has his hands out. “Don’t cry!”
Nezu presses the button on the left. “Please, wait! Please!"
It’s too late. He who was once the tallest has lost inches of his height. His clothes are baggier too. Izuku just got him those Ingenium sneakers and now he’s flooding them.
Recovery Girl shakes her head. Her cold hands press on your body. Your gaze is set on Noa. She scolds the heroes. “You people really are cruel.”
They say nothing. Instead, they just look at you. You can feel them study you. Shouto hasn't used his quirk, yet you are somehow frozen stiff.
Izuku comes in. His eyes find you first then Noa. “What?”
“Papa!” His voice is different, too. It sounds like how it was before. Izuku clearly notices. You can't bear to look him.
Nezu straightens up and separates his eyes from you. “Midoriya, we were just in the middle of talking with (L/n). If you want to talk to her, you must wait.”
His eyes dart around. He spies Shouto, his dear friend next to the bed with his arm around you. The vibrant greens then go to Riko who is plastered against the wall. Her state is worse than yours, maybe. The teachers speak in things you’re not understanding right now.
“Is she in trouble?” He asks quietly. Nezu sighs but will not address you. He has lost his harsh tone. His small arms are behind his back. “This can’t be ignored. Her irresponsibility can’t go on.”
“No. If you are going to yell at her, you have to do it to me, too.”
“You weren’t there, Midoriya. I commend you for your initiative to find Noa and Kobeni today, but (L/n)’s responsible for her own actions. You can’t keep taking the blame for her.”
Ah. So he did get in trouble when Noa peed on Eraserhead.
“I’m his dad. I’m just as responsible as she is.” He stands in front of you. “Midoriya, with all due respect, you aren’t his father.”
Snipes adds something stupid, “Which brings me to the other problem. Why is he answering to Noa Midoriya?”
Finally, you mutter with a voice that became raspy from your scream. “Because that’s his name.”
Aizawa cuts in. “No, he’s Kaibara’s son, (Y/n). I know what happened between you is upsetting, but that is his son. I completely understand distancing yourself from him. But the least you can do is include him in the report. The other mistake is putting Noa onto Midoriya.” His voice has lost its aggression. His head is lowered when he addresses you.
Izuku clenches his fists. “How much sense does that make? And she hasn’t kept Kaibara from him. He stays away.” Izuku interrupts them. “And I am Noa’s dad. That’s why he called me Papa. If Kaibara is upset about it, tell him to come to me and not run behind you.”
“Midoriya!” Eraserhead scolds. It doesn’t stop the god child. “My name may not be on the paper but that is my kid. I’m the one who raises him with (Y/n). Not Kaibara. If she’s in trouble, extend that to me. Us being treated the same is only fair."
“Her length of detention is indefinite. That’d get in the way of your work study.” Nezu points out. Izuku scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Look at Noa.” Reluctantly they look at the toddler. “What more can you do to her? What the hell is detention compared to that?”
With a gesture in your direction, he asks the nurse, “Is she alright?” Recovery Girl straightens up. Clearly, she’s not used to his authoritative voice. “Yes, she’s fine. I am suggesting she rests. And you,” She pokes you. “Tomorrow, I want you back here so I can check on you. If this isn’t the first time this has happened, I need to report it.”
Your eyes are still focused on nothing but the distance. "All of us. Check all of us."
“What do you mean?” Snipe uncrosses his arms and takes a step forward. His mask is on and not a hint of his face is shown. You feel warm as everyone's eyes are on you. Last month you felt like your world was crumbling and today is the same. When this project started, you thought you’d be able to separate yourself enough to not get affected like this. Alas, it was a fool’s dream.
You get off the bed with Noa. Riko still stands there against the wall. Her eyes are glossy as she watches. She sucks in her lips then tries to confess. She’s losing it. She opens her mouth. “Wait, it was-”
With the simplest wave by your leg to stop her. Izuku’s eyes go from the movement next to your thigh to Riko’s expression. You walk out with Noa on your hip. He goes on about his day with Kobeni. Apparently, he was trying to find and introduce Yona and Ken but found an actual ladybug that looked like Yona and got distracted. You figured his intentions were pure.
In your room, you set Noa down. Your eyes have remained lowered, and you are silent. Izuku comes into the room after you and encourages Noa to play.
“(Y/n).” You hum. “What really happened?” He questions. You shake your head and shrug. “I messed up. You heard everyone.”
It hurts. What they say about you feels like hundreds of cuts. Seeing Noa regress in his age tore your heart.
“(Y/n), please.” You ignore him and sit down on your desk chair. Noa’s back is facing you, he’s completely oblivious to his parents and the year he lost. Deku stands in front of you and runs his hand through his green curls. Izuku gets on his knees. He slides you over to him and wraps his arms around your midsection. His face is against your stomach. “I’m sorry.”
You say nothing. He talks instead. “I blamed you and wrongly took my anger out on you. I’m so sorry, my dear.” Again, you don’t even give a whisper. He presses kisses on your stomach and works his way up. His hand cups your face to his wet cheek. “Forgive me. I’m so, so, sorry. It’ll never happen again.”
Sweet words from someone who doesn’t know the meaning. His other hand goes to your other cheek to pull you to his lips. Your eyes get big for a second until his lips are gently on your forehead. The pressure behind your eyes is appearing once again. “I’m a villain and a bad mom.”
His tears match yours. “Never. You are amazing. He would have never made it this far if it wasn’t for you. Do you understand? They are wrong. I was wrong.”
“He ran away, Izuku. He could’ve gotten hurt.” Your voice wobbles. He kisses your chin. “It was an accident. One that you didn’t do.”
Your breath hitches. “No, no, it was me.”
“Honey, I’m not blind. I saw you and Riko.” He rubs circles on your waist. You make contact with his eyes again. “Please, don’t say anything. If anyone asks, it was me.”
“Why?”
“There were some questions about Mineta or something. I don't know much about it.” You grab his arm. “She isn’t a perfect victim. What if they don’t take it seriously and let him back in? This could hurt her.”
Before he says anything, you interrupt him. “It was an accident. We came up with a system for a caregiver. One of us would watch the tots while the others study. We’d rotate the job and help each other with school! She came into the room and Noa and Kobeni snuck out. Izuku, please don’t tell. It was an innocent mistake. Noa’s learned to open doors, she didn’t expect it.”
He kisses your cheek. Since he started, he's been peppering kisses on you and avoiding your lips. Given the situation, you're grateful.
“You are the kindest person I’ve ever met.” He sighs. “This is not happening again, understand?” Izuku wipes away the dampness on your face with his thumbs. He’s gotten very bold with you. Despite your usual snark towards him and the world, you can’t find it in you to push him away. Instead, you nestle into his comfort after this long day. Hopefully, this pain will subside, and you’ll never see those eyes again. You hope that rather than remembering what happened with Noa, you'll remember how you didn't kiss him then dream of what could've been.
“You okay?” Noa comes from behind Izuku. Immediately, you straighten up and put a smile on your face for Noa. He frowns and raises his eyebrow. “You know what we should do?” Izuku leans into Noa’s ear. You don’t know what he’s said, but he pulls you down to the ground.
“What-oh no.” Him and Noa poke and tickle you. You laugh from the sensation but not from joy. At least Noa’s smiling and not scared anymore.
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You lay down next to Noa who has reverted back to sleeping with you rather than his little bed. It’s terrible because of the lack of space in both the bed and the room. At least he’s still potty trained and isn’t having an accident in the bed.
The only light in the room is from Noa’s nightlight. The hero symbols that display on the ceiling from it disgust you. Most of these heroes you've never met and God willing, you never will. Izuku lays in bed with you with Noa in between you. “I’m so sorry.”
He's already said that. He presses, “Tell me what to do. Anything to make it better.” He caresses your face. Really, he didn't do something out of the ordinary for a parent. What's wrong is that he didn't question your guilt and didn't give you a chance to explain until afterwards. What's wrong was the way he looked at you. Because of that, there is something in your mind. He complimented you, yes, but you want his honesty.
You ask him, “Am I a bad person?”
Are you wrong for your cause? What has been broken in you is turning into anger again. Are you wrong for your feelings? What happened today affected you and others. Was your longing for justice worth it if the results are shards? Your pride shouts for you to stand and start swinging but your mind keeps repeating everyone’s words like a song on a broken record. They all can kiss your ass, but Noa's smaller frame steals your scream. All of this, does it make you a bad person? Not just a mom, student, daughter and worker, but a human being?
“No. You aren’t bad. No matter what you try to show me, you could never be wrong. Except for with some of your homework.”
You smile a little. “I barely know you.” Yet there is something that says you do. Izuku's forehead touches yours. "I don't think it matters with us." He's gotten so bold, and you don't mind. His reassurance of his care is helping put what is broken back together, slowly.
Your eyelids are growing heavy, and the pillow has gotten softer. Right before your light is out for the night, you hear in the distance, “As long as it’s you, do whatever you want.”
If these pieces you are mending together result into the same wrath as before, Izuku, would you still say that? Would your friendship stay?
@xoxoangellll @js-favnanadoongi @imas1mpp @candiiee @moodyhuesworld @dinorawrss @luvrluvrr @bigchungusdrinksspritecranberry @d4n1elll4
if i didn't get you, let me know!
#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#mha#izuku midoriya#midoriya izuku#izuku midoriya x reader#midoriya izuku x reader#deku#deku x reader#bnha deku#mha deku#bnha fanfic#boku no hero academia fanfic#mha fanfic#my hero academia fanfic#izuku x reader#midoriya x reader#q
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spilled coffee
sevika x reader angst
summary: sevika struggles once silco dies and doesn’t quite really understand how hard it was for him to turn over his daughter for what he’d been fighting for. until she had to pick between you and her nation.
warnings: none in the chapter
notes: this is going to only be three chapters ! And I already have the all written so it’s going to take everything in me not to post them all at once
The sound of frantic knocking woke you up. It was sharp and desperate, reverberating through the quiet. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you stumbled toward the door. The hour didn’t matter; something about that knock made your chest tighten.
When you opened the door, Ran was standing there, their face pale, breaths coming in short gasps like they’d sprinted the entire way.
“What happened?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep. “It’s Silco,” they said, their voice shaking. “He’s dead. And Sevika… Sevika locked herself in his office.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What?” Ran nodded grimly, glancing behind them as though expecting the shadows to swallow them whole. “She hasn’t come out since. I think she might—” They hesitated, swallowing hard.
You didn’t need convincing. Grabbing your coat, you followed Ran into the cold, damp streets of Zaun. As you ran, their voice cut through the silence. “Some of the others… They think Jinx might’ve done it.”
You stumbled for half a step, your heart lurching. “Jinx?”
Ran nodded, their expression tight. “She’s gone. No one’s seen her.”
Your mind reeled. Silco loved Jinx like a daughter. She was the center of his world—the reason for so many of his choices, good and bad. What could possibly drive her to kill him?
“She’s always been unstable,” Ran said. “But to do this? To him?”
You shook your head, your thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. Whatever had happened, you knew it wasn’t going to make sense—not tonight, and maybe not ever.
When you reached Silco’s office, you heard muffled noises through the thick door. You knocked, but Sevika’s voice cut through immediately.
“Go away!”
“It’s me,” you called.
There was a pause, and then the door unlocked. Sevika stood there, her shoulders slumped, her face hollow. She looked… broken.
Without a word, she collapsed into your arms. You held her tightly, shutting the door behind you with your foot. Guiding her to the worn leather sofa, you sat down, pulling her close as she leaned against you, her breaths ragged but steady.
After a long moment, she finally whispered, “He’s really gone.”
“I know, my love,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know.”
Her body trembled against yours, though no tears came. “She killed him.”
You closed your eyes, a deep sigh escaping your lips. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“He didn’t even get to tell her,” Sevika said, her voice cracking. “He wasn’t going to give her to Piltover.”
You blinked, shocked. “What?”
“He became weak for her,” she said bitterly. “Just like Vander did. Just like every man who gets tangled up with kids that aren’t theirs. And now look where we are.”
“Sevika—” you started, but she cut you off.
“No,” she snapped. “Listen to me. Vander was weak. He let Piltover walk all over him, and when it came time to choose, he abandoned us. Silco was supposed to be different. He was different. But then he got soft. He let her in, and now he’s dead. And Zaun is left without a leader. Again.”
You reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
She snorted, the sound bitter and sharp. “Who else is there?”
Her words stung, but you didn’t let go. “I’m here. Always.”
Her gaze softened, just enough for you to see the exhaustion beneath the anger. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted quietly. “But someone has to.”
“And you will,” you said firmly. “But not tonight. Tonight, we grieve. Together.”
Sevika didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned back into you, her body heavy with the weight of her grief. You held her close, rocking gently as the silence swallowed the room.
For now, that was enough.
#sevika#sevika x reader#sevika angst#arcane#sevika arcane x reader#arcane x reader#lesbian#light angst#no happy ending#no happiness
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Highest Form of Empathy - Chapter 4
2k+ words
Logan x empath!reader
It's a blessing and a curse, feeling other's pain. More so when you can take it away, albeit at the expense of your own peace. One-night stands were a usual for you. That's all this was supposed to be. But, seeing someone in so much pain, you couldn't leave him like that. You just couldn't. Besides, it's not like you'd ever see him again.....
Chapter CW: Mentions of trauma and relationship issues
dunno how to make/pick headers...help, not peer edited
Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mid-January, 2006
Westchester, New York
~~
You and Rogue converse casually about the past week's events. In the time between your first and second sessions, she had grown more open to the idea of you as a confidant. It became a common occurrence that Rogue would pull you aside during your off time to ask for advice on various things: Bobby, fitting in with the others, and especially her career plans, or lack thereof. Though, she did mention a passion for linguistics at one point. You made a mental note to explore it more later.
You tried keeping a professional distance from her. But, she’s just such a sweetheart. You couldn’t find it in yourself to say no.
Now, you sit in the big green chairs in your office talking over water glasses. The day winds down to an end as you chat. It's here you learn of what happened between her escape from home and the present day. She makes an off-hand comment on what living on the road was like, and you jump on it with a "Tell me about that."
“After I left home,” she says, “I hitchhiked to a place in Canada. I used to tell people there was this one spot I wanted to visit. So, I went.” She stretches her arms out, placing her wrists on her knees. “Turns out it was the middle of nowhere.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” You flip the page of a teal notepad dedicated to Rogue. It’s a lot easier keeping track of things like family trees, key memories, and such when you sort everyone in their own books like this.
“It’s fine. I just picked it off a map I had. It wasn’t all bad, though. That’s how I met Logan.” You perk up at the mention of his name. Remy’s story from last week echoes in your memory. “He was cage fighting at the time. I stowed away in his trunk. He tried kicking me out and leaving me alone, but then he stopped and let me come with him instead. I think he’s too nice to do something like that,” she chuckles lightly to herself. “Then, the professor found us, and I ended up here.”
“And then what happened?” You scribble away at the pages, feeling how Rogue’s mood sours a bit after your question.
“There was an accident. I got hurt cause of him. Then, he got hurt, and I thought everyone hated me for it so I left. Then, Magneto found me. He wanted to use my power for some device that could speed up mutations in people. He didn’t care that it would’a killed me.”
You find yourself gritting your teeth in an attempt to hold back reactions as you listen to her story. Magneto. That was the guy’s name you couldn’t remember. The guy who’s plan would’ve killed so many people just to prove some twisted argument. Though, you couldn’t quite remember how. And, worse, he was ok with killing a fucking child for it?
“The machine turned some of my hair white,” she chuckles humorlessly. The remark catches you by surprise. Up to now you had dismissed it as some fashion choice on her part. It never occurred to you that it wasn't natural. Well, maybe it is, now.
"It suits you, though," you reassure. "I think it frames your face nicely."
“Thanks. Logan liked it, too. Made me less embarrassed.” She smiles down at her lap. “He saved me that day. Gave me his healing powers after pulling me from the machine. I don’t know if I was dead but…” She pauses, and the mood around you drops heavily. “I really owe him. He never stopped looking out for me after that. We've talked a lot about Bobby. Says I deserve better...or that he should think a little more, at least." She looks down and fidgets with her gloves
"Is that so?" Your pen pauses against the paper.
"He says that…if he loves me, he'll consider more than just how I make him feel. Says love is s’posed to be deeper than surface. That you gotta put their needs on top of yours." Her gaze falls to the side, and you can feel her guilt over the topic along with an ache in her chest. It's faint, but it's there. In truth, her relations with Bobby worried you. He's clearly a sweet guy and means well. But, he's still so young. They both are. "I don't wanna think he's not right for me. But..." She trails off.
"Rogue," you call out. "If you have resignations about the relationship, it doesn't make you a bad person. People come and go. Sometimes, you’re the person that goes, and that’s ok." You vaguely remembered your first love back in college. Rose colored glasses made your first boyfriend seem like the perfect match to you...until you made it clear your life wasn't getting put on hold for anyone. Even still, you were a wreck when you left him.
"What if I hurt him?"
"It's part of life, hon." You give her a sympathetic look. "Sometimes things just don't work out. It's rare that your first love is who you spend your whole life with."
She picks at the edges of her nails before speaking again in a low voice. “I think you’ll like him. Logan. You guys talk alike.”
That catches you off guard. Rogue clearly has a lot of admiration for the guy. The way it radiates off her reminds you much of your own love for your late father. Although, saying you two are alike? It feels like a stretch after what you heard from Remy. Yeah, you slept around a bit, especially late into university. But, you had a valid reason for it, and you most certainly never encroached on anyone’s territory. It’s hard to reconcile an attempted homewrecker to a loving father figure. But, humans had so many layers. Maybe, for all his faults, this guy has some decent parts to him, too.
A moment of silence passes before you glance back at your watch. "We're out of time, but let's pick this up next week, ok?"
She nods, her face somber.
You stand and get ready to open the door for her to exit. But, before that, you put a hand on her shoulder. "It'll work out, Rogue. It always does." That gets her to crack a smile, albeit small. You pray to yourself you can get down her habits and what could work for her soon. It sucks not being able to offer proper advice.
On the other side of the door, in a waiting chair, sits the aforementioned boyfriend.
"You doing ok?" He slings an arm around Rogue’s shoulders, and you watch as she tenses. The situation really is as complicated as it seems. But, you pray they’ll be fine.
"Yeah, I-" A loud grinding sound outside cuts Rogue off mid-sentence. She lights up like the morning sky, showing a whole new person in the process. "Logan's back!" She grabs your hand as she pulls you down the hall, screaming at you to hurry so you can “beat him to the door”. You give nods in agreement as you and Bobby attempt to keep up with her.
Once you reach the door, you watch as Rogue jumps into the arms of a big, burly man that just walked through it. A large duffle bag sits next to them on the ground. She makes sure to avoid contact with his head as she gives a tight squeeze, and your heart warms seeing her so carefree for once.
Ever the observant, you see in your sight a tall man, maybe six foot, in a brown, 70s style leather jacket with hair that...hair that resembles your mom's last cat. And, those eyes. You know those eyes. You remember those eyes. They make contact with yours, and the recognition in them tells you everything. He remembers you, too.
Shit.
Rogue pulls away, leaving Logan frozen in place, shocked face mirroring your own. She introduces him to you, the newest member of staff. You admit it’s nice to finally match a name to a face. You just wonder why it has to be his face.
"Hi." You give a greeting, mildly breathless.
He grimaces, "Hey." He lifts his hand in a pathetic attempt at a wave. There’s a faint tenseness bubbling below the surface. Is he…upset?
"About time!" Storm shouts as she comes walking down the stairs. "You're a week late, you know."
"I got lost." It's a weak defense, clearly a lie. But, Storm seems to brush it off as she reaches the ground floor only to meet eyes with you.
"Oh good! You two have met."
"Yeah," Logan says. "You could say that." He's still staring you down. God, if looks could kill…
Storm comes to stand between you. "Then, I'm sure you've noticed she's our newest babysitter."
"Hey!" You shove Storm playfully and she throws you a grin, feigning innocence. Helping with the kids you are, but “babysitter” is pushing it. The interaction helps enough to shove down your unease a bit, though.
Then, something on Logan catches her eye. "I thought you got rid of those."
You return your attention to him in time to see him tucking...something into his shirt. A defensive look dances across his face. Whatever it is looks to be hanging off a metal chain, and you raise an eyebrow, curiosity peaked.
"Logan." You hear Scott's voice at the top of the stairs. If Logan's disdain upon seeing you was obvious, it's nothing compared to what he throws at Scott.
"Scott." He clips. You glance from him to Scott, then back to him, then Scott, and back to him again.
"Oh wow." You mutter under your breath, brain connecting the dots. Now, you have to wonder what happened between them and Jean. Logan, somehow, hears your remark and shoots you a glare to which you return with an innocent smile.
"I'll...let you guys catch up. Gotta check on class plans." Storm, having no intention of wasting time escaping the awkward situation, is quick to make her exit.
Logan sizes you up, more or less, eyes never losing their edge. You cross your arms finding nothing but confusion, and a bit of hilarity, in what unfolds in front of you.
"You're late." Scott reaches the bottom of the steps and rounds the corner, catching Logan's attention, again.
You take that moment to glance over at Rogue who's giving you a look you can't quite grasp. All you can glean from her mind is amusement, but not who it's directed towards.
"Something you wanna say, hon?" You challenge her as Scott berates Logan over what he's missed the past couple weeks while Logan just stands there, completely unfazed.
Rogue just shakes her head at you, a cheeky smile gracing her lips. Clearly she’s seeing something you’re not.
"-unless you plan on running off with my bike…again." You catch the tail end of the conversation when Scott heavily emphasizes “again”, and your brows furrow. He stole the guy’s bike? What does he mean “again”?
"Well," Logan's eyes wander the mansion foyer before settling on you. "I could probably think of a few reasons to stick around." His eyes briefly flicker down your body.
Feeling rather exposed, you decide to look anywhere but his face while you fiddle with the zipper of your leather jacket. Well, that’s just great. This bullshit's why you do one-night stands. Too many complications come with people. Plus, with some people projecting emotions and thoughts more strongly than others, enough to where you don't even have to try looking, dating was something you gave up on a long time ago. Lucky for you, Logan seems to be one of those people. What you can’t figure out is why he seems so angry with you. Sure, you didn’t expect to see him again, and, yes, this is very, very awkward for you. But, is that really worth such a animosity? You didn’t do anything bad.
"Logan." You barely hear Scott's warning over the heat rushing to your ears.
"You should get moving." You lean over to whisper the warning to Rogue and Bobby.
Rogue chuckles as Bobby bids Logan goodbye and begins to pull her away. "Bye, Logan,” she says before shooting you one last smirk, leaving you baffled. You figure a power like Jean’s or Charles’s would be very helpful right about now. Although, it is funny watching as she's practically dragged down the hall. Her and Bobby laugh about something you can't quite hear.
"Bye." Logan nods to her as she leaves.
Scott clears his throat. "Like I said, Logan, this is our newest staff member. She does counselling and psych work with the kids-"
"Yeah," you interrupt. "Rogue introduced us."
"Oh!" Scott raises his eyebrows. "Alright. So, he knows he'll be training you in combat, then."
"What?" Logan clarifies. No, he most certainly did not. Clearly no one had bothered to tell him
“You’re training the new recruit. In combat.” Scott leans in, emphasizing his point. “Don’t worry, big guy. She’s experienced.” His tone is condescending as he looks towards you.
“Right,” he nods. Logan breezes past that completely to tell Scott he needs to meet with Charles later. Something about "finally found what I was looking for". But, you can tell he's not done with you yet, and neither are you for that matter. For weeks now, the mysterious stranger lived rent-free in the corners of your mind, and now he's standing right in front of you. You want to take this chance to dig a little further...and…maybe clear the air a little.
"I'll let him know." Scott nods before heading down the corridor and disappearing around the corner.
You clear your throat to get Logan's attention and give him an awkward smile. "It's good to finally meet you," you say. "Rogue told me about you." Better to deal with the awkwardness sooner than later.
"Really…"
"Well, yes. I’m the new counselor and health teacher for the school."
Logan scoffs. "You? A counselor? The whore in the bar?"
"I’m fucking sorry?”
“You just didn’t strike me as the type.” Well, isn’t this going swimmingly?
“I am more than qualified to be looking after these kids, unlike someone who spends his free time fucking strangers behind bars."
"Still a shit-talker, I see." He takes a step forward. "Should've put that mouth to better use when I had the chance."
"Get used to disappointment." You cross your arms over your chest as you hear your heart in your ears. You inhale, steadying yourself. No need to let things get out of hand. "Look. We're both working here. I don't want trouble."
He takes another step towards you. "Should've thought of that before you went and fucked with my head." You didn't notice before, but he towers over you. The rising anger makes it all the more unnerving.
"What?" You start cautiously, defenses up.
His face darkens. “What did you do to my head?"
"I don't...I don't know what you mean." Sorta. Really, you don't know what you did exactly. To you, all you did was take on his turmoil for the evening and hopefully give him a break. Everyone deserves a break sometimes. At least, you thought so.
"I came to that town," his voice lowers as he inches closer, "without a fucking clue who I was. I meet you. Now, I know everything. Why?" He’s in your face now, and it’s starting to scare you.
Your eyes widen once you put it together. "I really don't know what you're talking about. I just..." You try to form a proper thought, but the words lodge in your throat. Of all times, why now is your brain failing you?
Logan remains quiet, waiting for an answer.
You let out a breath. "Look. It’s part of my mutation," you finally say. “I can exchange my emotions for others’. I swear, that's all I did." He doesn't seem convinced. "You seemed like you needed a break. I figured I'd give you one." You take a step back, hoping to ease the tension just a little.
His brows furrow a little, trying to figure you out. Finally, he backs down. You notice the subtle desperation and guilt, now. It's buried under the anger, only obvious once it subsides. The empty look from that night returns as his gaze shifts to the floor. He backs up a little more before grabbing his duffle bag and walking away without a word.
You take a deep lung-full of air once you think he's out of ear shot. What just happened?
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A/N: NOW the fun begins. Fun for me at least ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#x men wolverine#logan#wolverine imagine#wolverine#logan x reader#the wolverine#logan wolverine#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine xmen#x men origins wolverine#james howlett#james logan howlett#wolverine fanfiction#logan xmen#logan x y/n#logan x you#logan james howlett#logan imagine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlet x reader#highest form of empathy
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i lost the post but i saw someone talking about how some of y’all act like being weird is a choice and like. YEAHHHHHHH.
that’s fine, it might be for you. but i just live like this and don’t know any other way. like yeah i’ve worked customer service, i can do innocuous small talk, but anything beyond that, i don’t understand what i’m missing. and it’s frustrating to see the tonal disconnect especially from people who are like “uwu embrace weirdness!!” where they’re like. dressing quirky and talking about bugs and listening to obscure music and eschewing small talk to ask Deep Questions on the first date and unlearning their tendency to not infodump. and generally have an idea of what Weirdness is supposed to look like. idk man some of us wake up and get out of bed and can’t figure out why the rest of their coworkers chitchat with each other but when they join the conversation it dies.
weirdness is value neutral. let’s stop trying to turn it into a badge because quite frankly, it’s not a choice for everyone. it’s fucking exhausting to never be on the same wavelength as other people and they’re going to react the way they do and label you the way they will without any conscious actions on your end. it’s difficult to talk about this without feeling like you’ll be dismissed as immature, a teenager whining “no one understands me” but the thing is. sometimes you don’t grow out of feeling alone and different, and there’s no good way to talk about it without feeling like people will think you’re just fishing for pity.
#most of it is stuff i can’t help like!!!#coworkers and i don’t share a lot of interests so i’m always like. yes i’ve heard of that show but haven’t seen it. no idk that band sorry#and they’ll like. talk shit abt other people who share my interests without realizing that i also like those things#so i just have to sit there and take it#i feel like i don’t have a lot in common with my friends even. a few shared interests but very different lives#in my experience the conscious choice has been to try to keep up with what’s popular but it’s just. not interesting to me#i got bored and forgot to finish s2 of stranger things and never picked it back up#even alt subcultures have gone kinda mainstream and i never quite slot in#let’s not even touch the gay culture ‘flags’ that are extremely online and unrelatablr#and the most frustrating thing. every time i try to talk about myself and my interests i feel people shutting down#one person i know. open mouth sighs in exasperation when i open my mouth#i don’t know why you’re making it my problem that we’re different#i know there is supposed to be a niche out there for everyone but some of that feels like#those niches are falling prey to marketability. if you’re too far out of the mainstream. too out of touch. it can’t be helped#a lot of messaging online is like. embrace weirdness but only if it’s subversive in a very specific way#too normal to hang out with self-proclaimed proud weirdos. too weird to hang out with normies#like i thought the thing was to disavow performativity. i’m sorry i don’t find the same things interesting#i don’t care about the office and you don’t care about the hundred years’ war. that’s fine. why is that seen as a personal fault of mine#i feel like some of the reaction i get might be bc it comes across as hipster shit. idk#i’m literally just oblivious and looking for any kind of indicator for social interaction#but so often it feels like the onus of finding common ground is on me. i have to listen abt things idk but no one cares what i have to say#i think what makes it more frustrating is this reaction from people who claim to not care. do their own thing#and then get annoyed when i do mine and it’s. different#instead of being like ‘fuck the mainstream! conformity is bullshit! be yourself!’ it’s like#‘fuck the mainstream because it doesn’t appeal to me personally and i’ve made my own club!’#and this is not going to come out right because i’m just at my limit and venting and don’t know how to say things the right way#so people don’t misunderstand me#i just happen to never like the Right Things and know the Right Things and act the Right Way and idk how else to say it other than#can we be more normal about weird people#idk it’s hard to talk abt this without sounding like i’m just complaining but i’m more bewildered and trying to state things as i see them
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the thing about me is that I have this need to pick up every angel on supernatural by their scruff and place them into an enclosure that will allow them to, if not heal and become better, than at least to be petty and vindictive in a way that causes less death and destruction and is just kind of annoying. which I would argue is also good for them. let angels make choices where the consequences of their actions are non-existent rather than world-ending. teaches them free will in a safe, healthy way.
#this is still about Zachariah to be clear#it’s about all of them. I’m putting them all in such nice enclosures. with so much enrichment#but mostly this is about Zachariah. just kind of want to put him in an actual office and watch him whirr away. maybe he prints things.#stands at a water cooler and makes awkward small talk.#I don’t know what happens in offices. what do I look like. I don’t think he does either really. he just likes the aesthetic#he’s constantly cosplaying and it makes all the other angels slightly uncomfortable like. Okay Zach We Get It. This Is Your Businessman OC.#Can We Please Go Back To Talking About How To Stop Castiel From Breaking Containment For The Fifth Time This Month.#(my integration of old and new angel rebellion canon is per s5 all angels have the capacity to rebel. and many do. often. and are punished#for it. and also per s8 Cas just does it the most because he is so sooo annoying <3#also maybe because a combination of factors like. Anna is his boss for a lot of that time and she goes lighter on the reprogramming because#she’s already having doubts. and then also he’s paired with Uriel always. they make each other question things. but they also work#too well together for Heaven to separate them. the cost isn’t so high (yet) just toss them in the brain cleaner after each assignment#and they’re still useful.)#sorry this was supposed to be about Zachariah.#his enclosure has fax machines in it. he likes them. you know. the same way most angels like radio towers. he *likes* them.#spn#Zachariah spn
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