#I'm gonna ask to be able to fill in shifts whenever someone needs it too just so i have more money

[spursthatjinglejanglejingle]

Okay submitted my application i should've quit my job before i did that but I'll tell my boss I'm quitting today

[avatar-anna]

Workday Blues

2024 Masterlist

i wrote this weeks ago after a co-worker had me seeing red lol

"I just don't get it, H," you sighed, leaning back against the leather seat of your car as you waited for the light to change. Your voice felt strained, and you knew you sounded whiny, but you couldn't help it. After a long shift at work, you told yourself you reserved the right to complain. "Why can't people just, I don't know, do the job they showed up to do and get paid for?"

"I'm sorry, bub," Harry said, his voice tinny as it filled up your car. "Did you talk to your manager?"

You scoffed. "There's no point, but I swear I wanted to tell them I didn't want to work that shift anymore. I'm just so sick of—of—doing more than what's required of me and not being compensated for it."

Harry remained quiet over the phone. At this point in your relationship, he knew when you wanted his advice and when you just needed to vent about your job. The latter happened more and more as of late. Sometimes you felt bad for being so negative, but after nine hours of being overly positive as a restaurant server, you didn't have much positivity left in you.

"Need me to leave you a review again?" Harry finally asked.

Despite your exhaustion, you smiled. "What's that, now? The third one this month?"

"Fourth. Three and a half. I had Mitch leave one after the, what did you call it, 'influencer incident?'" he asked, referring to an afternoon where someone tried to pay for their meal by posting a video online.

"Hm. I'll have to bring him a slice of pie the next time I visit the studio."

"Hey, what about me? Where's my pie?"

Grin widening a bit, you said, "I'll give you something better."

"And...how far from home are you now?"

"Pulling in right now. I'll see you inside."

You pulled into the home you shared with Harry, resting your forehead against the steering wheel once the car was in park. Your feet hurt, you smelled like the food your restaurant served, and you desperately needed to take your makeup off. Sometimes you wondered why you were still putting yourself through all of this, and Harry definitely did too. For years now, Harry promised to take care of you, to take care of your student debt so you could focus on your career and not be so tired and unhappy. He didn't say it often because it typically led to an argument about independence and needing to be able to take care of yourself, but you knew how he felt, and after days like today, the idea of letting someone else take care of you financially seemed more appealing than it normally did.

Sighing, you slid out of the car, gathering your lunch bag and purse before shuffling into the house on slippered feet. "H?" you called, eyes lighting up when you heard the sound of nails scraping against wood floors. A shadow of jet black fur whipped around the corner and bounded toward the entrance hall to you, tongue out and tail wagging.

"Hi, pookie! How's my sweet boy?" you cooed. Hades nudged your leg with his nose, and you bent down to run your hands over his soft puppy fur until he eventually fell onto his back in need of belly rubs.

"You talking to me?" Harry's voice sounded like it came from the kitchen, which you followed once you straightened up and your dog was finished licking your face.

"You're gonna eat your words when you get your cute butt over here."

"I live with two boys, and only one of them greets me excitedly without fail. You do the math," you joked.

You smiled and shook your head at the comment. Harry knew your feelings about your "unflattering" work uniform, so he often went out of his way to compliment you whenever you were in it.

When you finally made it to where Harry was standing at the kitchen counter, tears nearly welled up in the corners of your eyes. "Is that—"

"Wild Cherry Pepsi," he said, his grin wide and knowing as he read your expression. "With pebbled ice. And dinner, but I know you care more about the drink with that sugar addiction of yours."

"You know me so well," you said, your voice rising in pitch as your head bowed.

"Aw, come here, bub." You shuffled over the last few steps to Harry, folding right into his welcoming embrace.

His body was firm and comforting against yours, his t-shirt soft beneath your cheek. Breathing in deep, you wrapped your arms around Harry's torso, letting every frustration you felt at work fall away as he held you.

"Thank you," you mumbled, tilting your head up after a minute or two had passed.

Harry smoothed his hand over your hair and down your back, pulling at the hair tie that held your braid in place all day. "For what?"

You shrugged, eyes closed as he began to pull the strands of your braid apart. "I don't know. For being you, for not suggesting I should quit when I know you want to."

"Another time," Harry promised. Pulling out a chair at the kitchen table, he gestured for you to sit down. You practically fell into the chair, feeling like you could finally relax as you took the plastic to-go cup into your hands and took a sip. Your eyes closed, feeling as though you could fall asleep right then even though you knew you should probably eat. As if he could tell you were on the brink of sleeping, Harry asked, "Do you want to keep talking about work or are you ready to forget?"

Harry wasn't being rude, nor was he belittling your frustration. You'd done this song and dance a time or two, but some days required you to vent more than others.

Around the straw, you said, "Can I?"

He sat beside you, taking Hades in his lap, who was happy to be held even though he was getting way too big for it. Usually, you chided Harry for holding Hades like that, but you were too tired, and honestly, it was kind of cute.

You talked while you ate, and Harry listened, letting you get everything you needed off your chest. He was quiet but attentive, apologizing for things out of his control and cursing your co-workers when you did. None of it would really improve the situation at work, but you always appreciated Harry's willingness to listen when you needed him to, and share in your anger and frustration when necessary.

Standing from the table, you took your plate and put everything in the dishwasher. Grabbing your plastic cup in one hand and Harry's hand in the other, you said, "I think I'm all done."

Harry kissed your temple before pulling you up the stairs toward your bedroom. Hades snaked between you and him to run ahead, waiting on the landing impatiently. "Good, because the Real Housewives of Salt Lake City won't wait for just anyone."

"Not a reading night, huh?" you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. Harry looked down and raised his brows in an expression that expressed he was not, in fact, going to be cracking open his book tonight. Kissing his cheek, you said, "Go ahead and start the next episode, baby. I'm gonna hop in the shower and wash my day off."

Harry, who'd been on his way to do just that, paused and frowned. "Well now I want to watch something else."

Grinning, you held out your hand while you continued to sip your drink. "Come on."

Hades, who had already claimed his spot at the edge of your bed, tilted his head to one side, clearly confused as to why his parents were walking away instead of joining him. "We'll be quick," you promised, even though you knew your dog didn't understand. But the message was for Harry too.

When you were finally in bed, watching Harry's show through eyes that were struggling to stay open, you looked up from where you resting against his shoulder. Harry's glasses were perched on his nose, his eyes focused on the television in front of him as he ran his hand idly over Hades' fur, who had conveniently found his way onto your lap once you settled into bed for the night.

"If you insist," Harry said on an exhale, turning the shower on and setting it to a temperature he knew you both liked.

"Be honest," you said suddenly. "I'd be happier if I quit, right?"

Harry was quiet, but you knew he'd heard you. He was just weighing his words. "Is another job lined up in this alternate universe?" he finally asked.

"I don't know, maybe. They argue quite a bit, though. Don't think you want to be part of all that drama," he replied, taking the remote and pausing his show. He looked down at you, eyes soft but perhaps a little concerned. You'd never considered his offer of letting him provide for you this seriously before. "Honestly? I think you'd get bored, bub."

You shrugged. "I don't know. You've said you'd always take care of me. What if I just...let you? I could be one of them," you mused, nodding your head at the women on your TV.

A nod and a noncommittal hum was your only response for a few seconds until you'd gathered your thoughts. "I'm just so...tired. I'm tired of everything I do not being appreciated. I'm tired of not being supported. I love my regulars and I like most of my co-workers, and part of me feels a sense of loyalty to this place despite, well, everything."

"We'll do some job hunting tomorrow," Harry said. "I'll help you update your resume, you'll send some feelers out, and we'll go from there. How does that sound?"

"I could get a remote job," you mused. "I'd get to be home more. I could travel more with you."

Harry kissed the top of your head. "As much as I would love that, I think your strengths lie in the connections you make with people. You certainly charmed the pants off me."

"Literally or metaphorically?"

"Both."

You grinned, cheeks reddening as you recalled the night you first met Harry.

*.*

"Holy shit you're Harry Styles."

Your hand immediately clapped over your mouth, as if physically covering it would keep you from embarrassing yourself further. In your defense, it was the first time a celebrity sat in your section at work, and no one had thought to warn you. And Harry Styles, no less. The man in front of you was probably still immortalized on your childhood bedroom wall, and now you'd all but outed yourself as a fan when he'd no doubt wanted some privacy.

"I'm so sorry, I—" How were you supposed to recover from this? Harry stared at you with a small smile, a pitying one, no doubt. God, you had one opportunity to act cool in front of a celebrity and you blew it in less than ten seconds. "I'm sorry, let me start over. Hi, I'm Y/n, and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just a water please," Harry replied, his voice soft as his smile widened, which made you think that perhaps he thought you making an absolute fool out of yourself was at the very least amusing.

Once you made it back to the service station to retrieve his water glass, you gave yourself exactly one minute to collect yourself. "He's just another customer. An extremely attractive customer," you murmured, grabbing a pitcher of water from the fridge. "You can do this, Y/n. Pull yourself together."

From there, things went smoothly. You acted like you hadn't freaked out when you initially greeted Harry's table, and Harry was thankfully on board with that plan. He was polite, wasn't fussed when a dish he wanted couldn't be made vegetarian, and was surprisingly interested in making conversation with you anytime you were at his table.

"How long have you worked here?"

"Too long," you joked. "Sometimes I feel like there's a bit of Stockholm Syndrome with this place, but the tips are good."

Your eyes widened a bit when you realized he might think you were making a joke about one of his songs—which you absolutely weren't trying to do—but you didn't comment on it, and thankfully neither did he. You talked a little bit more about the career you did want to get into, and casually asked what brought him to the restaurant you worked at. It wasn't one celebrities tended to frequent, but perhaps that was its charm to Harry.

"Had a day to myself, just thought I'd do some exploring," he explained before you left him to enjoy his meal.

You'd gotten a couple more tables since then and couldn't go over and talk to Harry like you wanted, but perhaps that was for the best. You flitted around the restaurant floor like you always did, charming customers and taking complaints in stride with a smile. Tips were key, and snarky comments or not being accommodating would get you nowhere with certain customers, even if it did kill you inside just a little bit to see an insufferable person get their way.

You didn't realize it at the time, but according to Harry, he watched you—not in a creepy way, per his recollection of your first meeting. He watched you chat with regulars and help your co-workers place orders and carefully placate disgruntled customers. And all the while, you still managed to stop by his table, smiling and topping off the coffee he ordered after he ate, which, according to him he'd done just so he could keep talking to you.

Apparently, he'd been working up the courage to flirt with you when you finally set the check down on the table. "No rush," you said with a smile before heading to another table, a party of ten that you accidentally huffed to him was supposed to be a party of five.

Harry paid, then smiled when his bill and credit card came back to him. Sorry for acting like an idiot earlier. It was nice meeting you! you'd written on the receipt, adorning it with a smiley face. You watched as Harry smiled as he read your note from Expo before one of the line cooks shouted at you to run the food that was up.

You didn't think you'd ever see Harry again, a universal truth, some might've called it. But for some reason, the notion disappointed you, and not because you didn't get a picture with your teenage crush. It felt bigger than that somehow, which was altogether crazy considering you'd only just met him.

So imagine your surprise when you saw him again two days later. "He was supposed to be in my section, but he insisted on yours. Don't fuck it up," one of your more vile co-workers told you, clearly jealous. And as you saw him, his head bent over the menu and his knee bouncing beneath the booth, your heart leaped in your chest in a way that made you both nervous and excited.

"You forgot something," he said as he closed out his check for the second time that week. Time had passed in a blur, despite it slowing down every time you went over to talk to him, which was to say a lot. It wasn't as busy as the day he first came in, leaving you no choice but to check on him more than you normally would.

"Did I?" you asked, looking down at the bill with furrowed brows.

"Last time I was here, I mean," Harry corrected.

Last time, you thought. All Harry had gotten was a salad and a coffee, but the tip he left was well over half of what your other tables had left that day combined. But you rang everything in correctly. Perhaps he was expecting a discount for his celebrity status? He didn't seem like the type, but that was the only conclusion you were able to draw.

"The note you left," he continued, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He sat up straighter, giving you a better view of the Keith Harring shirt he wore. "It didn't have your number on it, so I've had to come back the last two days so I could ask you for it. Only now I know you don't work on Mondays."

Shock ran through your entire body, to the point where you couldn't even speak. Harry, Harry Styles, mind you, wanted your number. Badly enough that he'd come back to an average Mom-and-Pop restaurant to get it.

"No, I—I don't," was all you could manage as your entire face heated up.

"I hope I'm not sounding like a creep right now," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I realize now I may have participated in some light stalking."

"You're not," you blurted, trying to remember how to speak. You felt like you'd somehow entered an alternate dimension. "Here, hold on."

You pulled your order pad from your back pocket and scribbled your number down, willing your hands to stop shaking. Ripping it off the stack, you handed it to Harry, who took it from you graciously.

"Can I call you later?" he asked, standing up from the booth. You had to back up a couple steps to give him room, and you were now aware of just how tall he was as you craned your neck to look at him.

"Please," you blurted, cursing yourself for sounding so eager. Harry didn't seem to mind, though, smiling as he slipped his phone and wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. "I—I mean, sure. I'm off at eight tonight."

"I'll be counting down the minutes," he said before cursing under his breath. "Shit. I sounded like a stalker again, didn't I?"

A laugh bubbled out of you, making Harry's shoulders relax. "I'll allow it. Just this once."

Harry laughed too, then winked, and you were honestly so proud of yourself for not swooning in front of him. "I guess I'll be talking to you later then, Y/n."

*.*

"You made me so nervous," you said as you recalled the memory of how you'd embarrassed yourself in front of Harry the first time you met.

"I know," he said, laughing when you smacked his arm. "It was cute, though! And you also made me plenty nervous, to be fair."

"That is true," you sighed, grinning a little as you turned your face into his arm. "One of us stalked the other, and it certainly wasn't me."

"Sure, but one of us has posters of the other plastered all over their childhood bedroom."

Scoffing, you sat up and scooted away from him, making Hades bark in protest. "It's one poster. And you weren't even my favorite. Zayn was."

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

"I will."

Sighing, you settled deeper against him, as much as you could considering the puppy still in your lap. "Sometimes I think I keep the job because that's where we met."

"It's okay to let it go. We'll have the memory," Harry promised, his hand meeting yours as he began to scratch Hades' fur. "We'll figure it out. I promise."

Nodding, you reached for the remote and pressed play on the show, content to leave the conversation there. If Harry promised to help you figure it out, then you believed him.

[wornoutmouse]

@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

 If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff. 

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?" 

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing. 

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

 The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging. 

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat. 

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went  "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that.  Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way." 

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room. 

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening. 

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge. 

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l  rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants. 

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.” 

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch. 

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!" 

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot,  "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways. 

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good.  The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes.  Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard.  "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that." 

He bowed his head and rested on your back,  kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass  before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed. 

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out. 

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read. 

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow 

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part 7•

Metal crashed against metal as you yanked wildly at the handcuff around your wrist until you felt warm blood running down your ice-cold hand.

Silently sobbing you sank back on the bed. The sudden lack of noise made the dark room even scarier.

How have you ended here? What happened and why the hell can't you remember?!

These thoughts got stuck in your head, drove a rollercoaster, and made you feel sick.

Helpless you tried to remember what had happened, tried to puzzle everything together but the last thing you remember was going to bed alone in your flat.

Alone.

The word echoed in your head.

Something in the back of your mind told you that this wasn't right.

There was this feeling, this feeling of being watched. You had it right before you fell asleep.

Suddenly you remember that something was being pressed on your face. You couldn't breathe anymore and smelled something sweet. Panicking you had woken up and saw someone standing next to your bed. He was pressing you down and covered your mouth and nose with a piece of cloth.

It was Jonathan.

You screamed inside your head, wanted to punch yourself for your stupidity of trusting a man you barely knew instead of trusting Sherlock.

Your eyes darted to your left as a door was opened with a loud squeaking sound and bright blue light fell into the room.

A man was standing in the frame and threw a large shadow on the ground.

"Finally awake?", a deep voice asked with a sarcastic undertone and his heavy steps resounded through the room as he walked towards you.

"Oh, it was so easy to twist you around my little finger", he hummed as he tugged on his black curls, pulling down the wig from his head and revealing short blonde hair.

He chuckled as he saw the scared look on your face.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not gonna harm you.", Jonathan pulled a phone out of his pockets and stood there for a while, typing something, before he sat beside you on the bed and turned the camera on, holding the phone away so that you both were visible on the screen.

"As long as Sherlock does what I want."

"Let's play a game, Sherlock.", the man in the video said and grinned evilly.

Watson heard this sentence for at least the 20th time in a row now since Sherlock kept restarting the video which he received 10 minutes ago on his phone.

"Watching it over and over again won't get (y/n) back here.", Mycroft said, trying to bring his little brother back to his senses but Sherlock completely ignored him, restarting the video again.

Annoyed Watson stood up from his chair and snatched the phone out of Sherlock's hand: "That's enough now."

"I should've stayed with her.", Sherlock mumbled under his breath and ran his hands over his face, his black shirt stretched over his back and arms as every muscle in his body tensioned.

Suddenly he stood up and threw his hands in the air: "For god's sake I should've stayed with her!"

"It's not your fault.", Watson tried to calm him down, shook from his unusual behavior.

"Don't fool yourself, Watson, of course, it is! That lunatic is just kidnapping her because of me."

On Sherlock's phone popped up a message from an unknown number and Watson gave it back to Sherlock. He swiftly opened it, just to nearly drop it as he saw the content of the message.

It was a picture of you sitting on the bed, a blanket half over your shoulders and your right hand was laid over the left. It was dark but Sherlock still noticed the handcuffs and the bloody strains underneath them on your skin. Your hair was parted to both sides of your face and you had a smile on your face. A forced smile, your lips were curled up but your eyes showed fear.

The phone rang loudly and Watson jumped.

Sherlock answered the call with a cold expression.

"Such a pretty girl, don't you think?", the man on the other side chuckled darkly.

Sherlock's hand tightened around his cellphone: "Don't you dare to touch her.", his voice had a deadly sound and even Watson needed to gulp since he never heard him talk like this.

"Oh, I won't, what are you thinking of me? But you should hurry.", the man made a dramatic pause. "It's getting really cold in here."

He chuckled again before he hung up.

Slowly Sherlock lowered his hand with the phone and stared blankly out of the window.

Watson didn't dare to speak and waited for Sherlock to tell him what was up, but he stayed silent and the only noise was the beeping of the disconnected phone call.

Without a word, Sherlock turned around, threw his coat over and rushed with fast and heavy steps past Microft and Watson and down the stairs. Watson followed him to the street and just about made it into the cab in which Sherlock had hopped in.

"Where are we going?", Watson asked as the car started driving.

"The national gallery."

Your shaking ice-cold fingers were wrapped around each other, your knees were tugged under your chin and your arms were pressed at your body to keep the warmth inside.

Your teeth silently chattering was the only sound in the room, beside the rattles of your handcuffs around the bed frame sometimes when you shifted your weight.

Jonathan had left you alone hours ago, he said that he needed to prepare something for Sherlock and you were scared of what he had planned, scared of what he might do to him.

His evil laugh still echoed in your head and made you shiver more than the cold air around you.

"If you're ever scared, my love, then count to three and think of me, count to ten and think of a friend, count to a hundred and your fear will be tamed"

You remembered your mum saying this to you whenever you were scared after what had happened to you as a child. After you lost your voice.

Warm tears rolled over your cheeks as you counted to three and thought of her smile and laugh, her warm embrace and her soft voice.

More and more tears rolled down your cheeks and you began sobbing as you thought about Sherlock.

1

Thought about him taking care of you on the day you had burned your hand in the café.

2

Thought about this proud smile he had on his face when you kept the keys for the register.

3

You remembered the day when he got you out of the hospital to eat some chips together.

4

And then took a ride with you on the London Eye. You knew that he had watched you and had a smile on his face as he saw you being so amazed by the night view.

5

You thought about the days you had tried to ignore and allure him since he wouldn't talk to you about the case and ended up being followed by a slightly sad and jealous Sherlock. Now you were sure that he hadn't understood his own feelings at this time and probably was really confused why you made him feel like this.

You chuckled slightly. When you would get out of here alive you would try to seduce him even more, you loved the look on his face when he was too confused about his own feelings.

6

The picture of you sitting on Sherlock's lap, both of you sleeping, popped up in your mind.

This was the moment you got aware of that you really loved him. You never felt so safe and like home before, then in his arms.

The thought of this brought a warm feeling back and you noticed that you had stopped sobbing and shivering.

7

You remembered him entering the café after not having seen or heard from him for over three months and that smile that crawled on his face as he saw you.

8

He had pulled you in this tight hug instead of saying hello and made your heart melt.

9

A loud bang ripped you out of your thoughts and brought you back to the dark and cold reality.

You held your breath and listened to if there were any other noises but everything remained silent.

Just as you gave up on listening a bright light suddenly flooded the room and you had to cover your eyes, pressing your face into the stinky mattress.

Blinking you tried to get used to the lack of darkness and it took you some seconds to see the big tv on the opposite wall.

It showed Sherlock and Watson who just came running into a big white room with paintings on the walls and you immediately noticed that it was a room from the national gallery.

"Will you tell me now why we needed to go here?", Watson asked out of breath as he watched Sherlock examining every painting in the big room.

"The picture.", Sherlock just answered and walked into the next room. "He made her look like the Mona Lisa and where do we usually find paintings?"

"The national gallery", Watson sighted.

Suddenly Sherlock's phone rang and he hesitated for a second to pick up.



"Where's (y/n)?", he asked straight out.

"Oh Sherlock, I'm not gonna make it so easy for you. Don't you remember that I wanted to play a game?", the voice on the other side said with amusement.

Sherlock tried hard to keep a straight face: "I already solved your little puzzle to get here and I don't want to keep on playing."

A loud laugh suddenly echoed out of the speakers from every corner of the room and Watson whirled around.

"If you don't want to play the game then you won't be able to safe (y/n). Aren't you having fun? I thought you liked puzzles, Sherlock."

The voice filled the room with a dangerous atmosphere.

Sherlock remained silent, grinding his teeth.

"I see, good choice.", the voice chuckled. "You know, I'll give you something to think about: she's here, somewhere, and I already told you where."

Sherlock narrowed his eyebrows, he couldn't think of anything right now, the feeling of fear for you had crawled into him and wouldn't let go anymore.

He took a deep breath and placed his hands in a praying position to his lips.

His eyes darted fast over the paintings on the wall to find anything that would show him where you were captured.

But he couldn't find anything.

"There got to be something!", Sherlock muttered and ruffled his hand through his hair in frustration.

A chuckle echoed out of the speakers again: "Oh Sherlock, don't make it so hard for yourself. I said that I already told you where she is."

Sherlock stopped in his actions and his eyes widened.

"Stupid!", he suddenly scoffed. "My god, Watson, why didn't we notice that earlier?"

"What? What didn't we notice earlier? Sherlock!"; Watson shouted after Sherlock who already ran down the hall.

A swear escaped Watson as he chased after Sherlock's flapping coat...

Next chapter will be up next weekend!

Thank you all so much for reading and your nice comments 🥺 ❤

Tag list ❤

@misselsbells06 @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @a-paper-cut @viviace

[hitoshiikigai]

Foreign Feelings

anon request: Hiya there Sen!! I love your blog and i would love to read more of your writings. Can i request an imagine for being like a first year european shy student and becoming Nekoma’s manager, she slowly develops a crush for kenma but doesn’t know how to express her feelings because of language and because she thinks kenma won’t return her feelings

‪(o_ _)ﾉ彡☆ a/n 「i made it gender neutral, i hope that's ok and if it's not, i can change it to your liking! also, this is my first romance fic in my whole life, i hope it's satisfactory(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ i feel like i just forgot the slowly part-」

‪pronouns used: they/them

‪word count: 2.8k

You continuously repeat your introduction in your head as you wait for your turn. It's ok, you can do this, you've learnt this in basic Japanese lessons, it's just a few lines. Nothing too complicated!

The voice of the person behind you breaks the chant in your mind, "I'm Haiba Lev and..." Your thoughts block out the rest of his introduction. Is he a foreigner too? That name definitely does not sound Japanese but you note of his perfect pronunciation- a screech of a chair moving startles you and you're suddenly aware of the eyes of your new classmates staring right at you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you stand up, doing a bow, the Japanese words tumbling clumsily out of your mouth, "I'm (Y/N) (L/N)- no wait- (L/N) (Y/N), please just call me (y/n). Nice to meet all of you." You keep your eyes on your desk as you bow once again before sitting back down. You pretend not to notice the murmurs and sounds of interest about the two foreign students in their class, busying yourself by preparing your things for the lesson.

Mechanical pencil on the right. Pencil case right above your notebook. The ruler-

"Psst... Hey, you're not from Japan, right?" You turn around to meet glowing green eyes that somehow made you feel like you were looking into a cat's eyes instead. You nod and he grins in what you could guess as excitement. However, before he could say any more, he was cut off by the teacher signalling the start of class.

Maybe he's a potential friend?

After a few lessons of trying to keep up with the lessons taught in Japanese, your brain's finally granted with a break from trying to translate and you can't help the sigh that escapes you as you rest your cheek on your table, closing your eyes.

"Hey Y/N! Wanna have lunch with me?" You open your eyes to see your tall classmate looming over you- right, his name's Lev. Or should you call him Haiba?

You quickly weigh the pros and cons of eating with him. He seems like a nice person to be friends with and having a non-Japanese friend in this less-than-familiar country could definitely do you some good, maybe your Japanese can improve faster as well. But... you were planning to just find some nice quiet spot to listen to music in hopes of preventing the growing headache, a result of an overwhelming first day.

Well, there's no harm, you suppose... "Sure, I don't mind," you agree and you search for your wallet in your bag as Lev waits patiently.

Once he sees you're ready, he smiles widely and starts walking to the cafeteria most likely and you follow him, having to walk slightly faster to keep up.

"Where are you from? I'm half-Russian but I can't speak Russian. Oh! I know a few people here already! I visited the school before the school year started and made friends with people from the volleyball team. I'm actually gonna join the team once they start taking in applicants and-" Lev rambles on and you could only hum or nod, insert a few words of your own when he asks a question until you reach the cafeteria.

"Lev! Here! You're late!" You see a student with black messy hair that spikes up everywhere except for the fringe that covers his right eyes waving his arm. Lev bounds up to the table with you in tow and you can already see a few curious eyes examining you. Your gaze sweeps across the table, an uninterested guy playing with a switch catching your eyes a tiny fraction longer than the others before you look down at the floor, shuffling just a bit behind Lev, your current shield.

"This is Y/N, my new friend! They're not from Japan and I thought I could show them around," Lev claps his hands on your shoulders and moves you forward, putting you right in the spotlight.

Oh no. Ok, deep breaths. A simple introduction, no big deal. It's definitely a smaller group, better than a whole class.

"H-hi..." You clear your throat, cursing yourself mentally for the stutter, and repeat yourself with what you hope was a stronger voice. There's a chorus of greetings and before you even realise, you find yourself squished between Lev and a friendly-looking guy with a buzzcut, who you soon come to know as Kai, after a round of introductions.

How did you end up here? In a gym full of flying balls that could accidentally hit your face anytime? With your arms full of water bottles that you just filled up? You definitely did not sign up for this... Ok, well technically you did, you just didn't know what was in store. Try being a manager just for one practice, they said. Somehow, it feels like you were tricked somewhere along the line.

You hand the water bottles to the boys, jolting slightly when your hand unintentionally brushes against Kenma's. He thanks you quietly and you only nod in acknowledgment, avoiding any form of eye-contact with him and quickly moving on to hand the rest of the water bottles out before going back to the sidelines to watch.

It's really amazing watching them play. Everyone seems so coordinated with each other and the teamwork is seamless. Despite that, there are a few individuals that pique your interest: Yaku who seems to be able to teleport anywhere in the court, Lev with his tall and powerful stature, and more importantly, Kenma with his smart plays. It's like he calls the game, dictating where and how the ball goes and it's a whole experience observing him. Of course, the other members are amazing in their own ways, watching the team play is like watching a well-oiled machine working.

"How are you, Y/N?" Kai asks from beside you, wiping his sweat and giving you a warm smile.

You peel your eyes away from the quiet setter to answer Kai, and also to make sure you aren't caught staring at the certain player, "It's..." You try to find the correct words in your brain as Kai waits patiently for your answer. "It's nice... to watch. Everyone's good." You blush in embarrassment at the simple words you used, not having the full vocabulary to communicate what you really want to say. Kai, being the angel he is, makes a noise of approval and gives another warm smile which at least make you relax.

"If you need help with anything, you can ask any of us," he tells you before going back to the courts. You bow to him which he only waves off, laughing amiably.

After attending a few more practice sessions and having lunch with the team almost every break, you've grown a bit more comfortable with them, especially with Kai and Yaku, along with Lev. The team always tried their best to use simpler words whenever they spoke to you and you're definitely grateful for their efforts. However, there's just one person you've barely interacted with:

Kozume Kenma.

The third years obviously noticed the lack of interaction, especially Kuroo and he made it his own personal mision to try to get the two of you to talk to each other more, albeit with many difficulties.

"Come on, Kenma. You don't think I don't notice you paying attention anytime Y/N talks? You're not exactly very slick, you always pause your games just for Y/N," Kuroo nudges Kenmas side with his elbow which Kenma slaps away in irritation.

"Shut up Kuroo."

Kuroo leans in closer to Kenma, "You can't tell me you don't notice Y/N staring at you during practice? Blushing whenever you're 5 metres away from each other? Or when-"

"Kuroo, please just shut up," Kenma groans and glares at his switch, clicking away at the buttons and suppressing the urge to scream in anger as the words 'GAME OVER' flash on the screen. Instead, he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply before letting out a long sigh.

Kuroo smiles knowingly before his eyes shift over to something behind Kenma.

"Kuroo-senpai? Kenma-senpai? Has Kai-san arrived yet? I need to ask him something..." Kenma stiffens as your soft voice reaches his ears. He bristles at the 'senpai' title attached to his name, wanting you to just rid of the honorific altogether. He was supposed to tell you, in fact, he had been wanting to tell you to just refer to him casually just like everyone does but he never got the chance. How could he when your conversations only last 30 seconds long each time?

Jump. Jump. Duck. Ju- GAME OVER.

He pressed down his buttons more aggressively, a frown slowly forming on his face. Why couldn't he be more talkative? Why is talking so hard? Why is talking to YOU so hard? Lev does it so easily, Kai too, and Yaku and... and just everyone in the team but him.

You stare in concern as you watch Kenma play angrily with his game and you look to Kuroo for answers only to be met with a shrug.

"Yaku will be running late, some class meeting or something," Kuroo stands up and stretches, walking out of the gym, "Meanwhile, I'll go get my things."

The sounds from Kenma's game filled up the awkward silence and you take a moment to steel yourself, walking towards Kenma. "A-are you okay, Kenma-senpai? You look... angry?" At your question, Kenma's fingers still and the sounds suddenly stopped.

Kenma looks up at you and places his switch on his lap before looking away. "I'm okay... I'm not angry." He mumbles and you smile in relief at his words. "Do you want to play?" He suddenly offers his switch to you and you blink in shock, never really having known or seen him to ever share his switch with someone, simply rejecting anyone- save for that tangerine boy from another school- who tried to even get their hands on his beloved switch.

Noticing your hesitance, he places the gadget on the bench, between the two of you, letting you take your time. You look back to search for anything that will clue you in if he doesn’t actually want to do this, but finding none, you gingerly take it, careful not to drop it or at least try to not leave any embarrassingly sweaty fingerprints. You feel Kenma shifting closer to you to get a closer look at the screen and you don’t know if you feel lightheaded from him being the closest he has ever been that you can actually feel body heat radiating from him or from forgetting to breathe. Trying to focus on the little digital character instead and your fingers clumsily hitting the buttons, a contrast to the way his nimble fingers moved with muscle memory.

And if you felt butterflies in your stomach as he occasionally positioned your fingers on the correct button, the butterflies immediately flew away the moment Lev walks in the gym and you were left with just tingling fingers.

You cradle the box of apple pie you bought in a rush from the bakery, trying to tidy up the ribbon you tied around it to make it more presentable. You had asked Kai about what Kenma liked because you knew there was no way you could write or even say anything close to romantic in Japanese, so you figured out you could give him little gifts, you know, actions soeak louder than words, that kinda thing? As you think of the many ways you could say something wrong by declaring your feelings to him in a foreign tongue like unknowingly saying something ridiculous, or stupid, or even worse, something dirty! Lev’s incessant teasing and mock-kissing noises only stopped when you reached the gym.

“Oh? Y/N-chan, who’s that apple pie for, I wonder,”Kuroo gives you a knowing look and blatantly stares at Kenma, who just seems unbothered. You try to reason yourself that he was only concentrating on his game. Ignoring Kuroo, you take a tentative step towards Kenma, making sure you’re in his line of sight before thrusting the box to him, “For you Kenma… Uh, enjoy it!” You blurted out before brisk walking to the equipment room to take refuge, not even waiting for his reaction.

You hear the muffled shouts of the boys and you can imagine them crowding Kenma. You wince in sympathy.

During the whole practice, you had to deflect the many looks and questions the boys gave you. Thankfully, Kai managed to stop them before it got too much. A godsend. Before any of them could corner you after practice, you zoomed past the gym doors the moment you were done with your manager duties, forgetting that you had barely paid any attention to Kenma the whole time.

“Lev, do you know who’s this from?” You ask Lev, holding up the canned drink that was left on your table.

“Oh, that’s from Kenma. He came here earlier to place it there. He honestly could’ve just asked me to pass it to you but he said I would lose it or something. How mean,” Lev huffs but you can only focus on the fact that Kenma went through efforts to make sure you received it.

“Thank you for the apple pie yesterday. It was really nice,” Kenma took a seat beside you, on the same bench you first played his switch together.

“T-thank you for the drink! It’s my favourite,” you smile shyly. The corner of his lips curl up, just ever so slightly, which you think was the trick of the light.

Kenma gives his switch to you, now a weekly routine for the both of you on days he finishes class earlier. The distance between you and him grew smaller and smaller until your elbows brush against his at any slight movement.

This is it. This is the moment. You made a mental deal with yourself a week ago. If you win this level today, the one where you always lose, you’ll confess to him and if you don’t, you’ll simply leave your feelings hidden and buried deep in the safe in your heart.

Your eyebrows furrow in concentration, refusing any help from Kenma (Kenma just ignored the tiny sting in his heart when you did).

In the meantime, Kenma takes the chance to watch you, sharp, feline eyes studying your features. The stray baby hairs peeking out after a long school day, the slight sheen on your skin from the hot and humid gym, the determination in your eyes. Determination? To beat the level? He restrains himself from chuckling at your cuteness. This felt very different when he watches Shouyo play his video games. Kenma just really feels different any time he’s around you.

You abruptly stand up and cheer, “I did it! Kenma, look!” You show him the screen with the words ‘MISSION COMPLETE’ flashing repeatedly on the screen. You grinned widely at him and he smiles back in fondness.

Suddenly, you go all quiet, which concerned Kenma. “I have something to tell you.” At that, he tilts his head, urging for you to go on.

“I… IlikeyouKenma!” Your words end up being stringed together but from the widening of his eyes, he mostly likely understood.

“You do?”

You nod with pink dusting your cheeks, your fingers fiddling with the ends of your blouse. You’re prepared to get rejected, maybe even move back to Europe and never show your face to him again. And if not, at least you could quit the manager position to avoid any future confrontations with him.

“I like you too, Y/N,” he replies softly, but it was definitely audible in the quiet gym.

And if all else fails- wait what? This time, it’s your turn to look at him wide-eyed, processing what he just said.

“Y/N! Did you leave me for your boyfriend?!” The doors burst open with Lev boisterously shouting, Yaku walking calmly behind him with a twitching eyebrow.

You backpedal away from Kenma, dropping the switch in surprise and you scramble to pick it up, saying a stream of apologies to him, wiping away the dust and checking for any cracks.

Yaku, being more aware of the mood, kicks the back of Lev’s knees, adding a smack to the back of the head for good measure, hissing, “Shut up, you idiot!”

You make eye contact with Kenma before bursting into giggles, him just letting out a snort. You’re just glad you managed to confess before Lev could confess for you.

[1 New Message]

Kenma: wanna beat the next level after practice? you can come over to my house for dinner

You: yes! i’d love to!

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Late Nights, Early Mornings.

Summary: Long distant relationships are difficult, made worse when it's between two men in different colleges. But Freed and Laxus will make it worse, and if secret phone calls late in the night are what's needed then that's what they'll do.

Notes: This was day three for my admissions to Fraxus Week. It's hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus, who you should check out for more Fraxus content.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Four Ways to See the Dawn

Year: 1982

Location: Washington DC, USA

"Hey."

"Hey."

Laxus murmured the word, quietly fiddling with the cord to the phone as he glanced at the sleeping man in the other bed. The stranger seemed to be sleeping soundly, snoring without a care in the world, and so Laxus felt pretty confident that he had privacy. So long as he didn't make too much noise, he could speak without being overheard.

Good, this was going to work.

It wasn't ideal. It was nearing two AM, and Laxus had found himself fighting sleep as he'd waited for his roommate to pass out. The guy was apparently something of a party animal, and he was fully taking advantage of the many frat parties, drinking nights and mixers that filled the first weeks of college. Laxus had avoided them all – they were all too loud and rowdy for him – but he understood the appeal. He couldn't be angry that the man was so unpredictable; Bickslow would hardly know that he was stopping Laxus from his phone call with Freed, after all.

Freed didn't have the same problem. His college, which was half way across the country, didn't have roommates to worry about. He'd promised that he'd be waiting by the phone for him whenever he was ready to call, and he'd answered the moment Laxus had rung.

"You sound tired," Laxus teased. "Didn't wake ya, did I?"

"No, but it was close," Freed chuckled, and the sound was incredible. "I missed hearing your voice."

"Me too."

They'd promised themselves that, for the first two weeks, they wouldn't talk. College was a big thing, and they couldn't fuck it up, so decided they need to fully submerge themselves in college culture instead of becoming shut-ins who only spoke to one another. It was the right thing to do, they both knew it, but Laxus had been missing Freed's presence every day, and no amount of taster classes, tours around campus, and bottles of tequila would remove that.

Freed had always been there. They'd grown up on the same street, played on the same sports teams, and attended the same house parties. Jokes had been made that they were attached at the hip, and that they might as well be inseparable with how much time they spent together.

Laxus had to smirk at those jokes. If only they knew.

It had happened quite randomly, really. Laxus had broken his leg in the last year of high school, and he'd had to sit out on the final game in their baseball tournament. Freed had ended up hitting the home run that won their team the game, and had been rightly commended. Laxus had stumbled into the locker room on his crutches when everyone was left so he could congratulate the man in private. Freed had clearly noticed that Laxus was more melancholy that joyful, and forced Laxus to admit it felt shitty to miss the final game of his high-school career, even if they did win.

Freed had waited for a moment, thinking of what to say. Then, with his thigh resting against Laxus' non-broken leg, he quietly whispered 'I won it for you, you know. Not for the team.' The words were packed with years' worth of friendship and passion, and they were forever imprinted on Laxus' mind.

He'd kissed the man without thinking. Freed had kissed him back.

What followed was a summer of making out, going to the romantic spots around Magnolia under the pretence they were still just friends, and, on the last night before they left for college, they'd slept together for the first time. It had all been incredible.

But the summer had to end, and they could hardly keep going as they had. Magnolia was small, and their friendship was known well enough there for nobody to question how much time they were spending together. Now they lived in different states, a long and expensive train ride away from each other. The making out and the dates and the sex would have to stop, because it didn't make senses for it to continue. All they had left was quiet phone calls late at night where nobody could overhear them talking.

It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for now.

"You, erm, you done many classes yet?" Laxus asked, cringing at the awful question.

"No, they start on Monday," Freed answered, and shifted slightly. Laxus idly wondered if he were in his bed or not. Freed looked good in bed, curled up in a dressing gown with a book. If Laxus was there, he'd content himself by running his hand through his hair. "You?"

"A few taster things, just tryin' to find out what I wanna major in, y'know," Laxus all but scuffed his feet. He hadn't expected this to be this awkward. "Guess you don't have that problem."

"No," Freed agreed. He was training to by a surgeon, Laxus was at college mainly because he didn't know what else to do with his life. "How's your roommate?"

"He's good. A little weird but seems harmless," Laxus glanced at the sleeping man, who was stretched over his bed and drooling. "Seems to be out at parties most nights, so maybe I'll be able to call ya earlier in the night. Not force ya to stay up so late."

"It's worth it," Freed said without missing a beat. "I've missed you, Laxus."

"I missed you too," Laxus whispered.

Neither man spoke for a moment, and Laxus wished he knew what to say. He wished he had a ridiculous story of his fun, interesting college life that he could use to break that layer of awkwardness and entertain Freed with. But he'd done nothing; college was much less interesting than he had been led to believe. He couldn't think of a thing to say, and the electric humming of the phone was getting on his nerves.

Freed must have felt the same way, as Laxus could hear him fidgeting across the phone. Laxus wished he could just pull the man into his arms, as he often had in their quiet nights alone over the summer. But he couldn't. For months, he couldn't.

"It's gonna get easier, ain't it?" Laxus asked. "Doin' this?"

"It will," Freed said, and he sounded sure. "It'll take some time, but it will."

"Fuckin' better," Laxus mumbled more to himself than to Freed.

"It will," Freed repeated. "And thanksgiving is only a few months away, and we'll be able to see each other then."

"Guess so," Laxus nodded, trying to feel encouraged. "You still doing thanksgiving with me and Gramps?"

"If he'll still have me."

"He will," Laxus replied immediately, and then forced a smile onto his face. "And I promise it'll be more successful than last year."

"More successful? Is that possible?" Freed asked sarcastically, and Laxus chuckled.

"You saying that me and Gramps getting into a screaming match, the turkey ending up in the cat's litter tray, the two of us getting covered in cranberry sauce, and the neighbours making a noise complaint wasn't successful?" Laxus scoffed, smiling as he remembered the night the previous year.

He also remembered how, just before Freed drove back to his own home, he'd confessed that it was one of the most enjoyable thanksgiving's he'd had.

"You seem to not realise that, with long hair, pureed cranberries really have a lot of space to hide in," Freed chuckled. "A problem you don't seem to face."

"I'll aim for your face this year then," Laxus grinned.

"That's all I ask," Freed was grinning too, Laxus could hear it in his voice.

The situation wasn't immediately remedied, but they found themselves talking about the ridiculous shared moments they'd endured in Magnolia, and Laxus felt the awkwardness seeping away minute by minute. It was nowhere near as good as driving to the mountains, lying on his car's roof with Freed curled against him, but damn if it wasn't the best couple of hours he'd spent since arriving in Washington.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he did remember waking up sometime later in the morning. The phone was clutched against his chest, the line dead, and the sunlight was fluttering under the curtains. He smiled privately, and closed his eyes, phone in hand.

---

"Freed, you okay? It's four in the mornin'?

"Hey. You're awake. Hi."

Laxus forced his eyes open, groggy and sleep deprived. He blinked a few times, sitting up. The ringing of the phone he'd just answered seemed to still be blaring in his mind, and the overly loud, inelegant words that his boyfriend had just near yelled into his ears made Laxus wince. It was nearly four thirty in the morning. Why the hell was Freed awake?

"Course I'm awake, phone's fucking loud," He complained, sitting up and leaning against the wall. "Why're you awake?"

"Ever and Mirajane," Freed said, as if that answered anything. Laxus waited a moment before he realised that was all Freed felt he needed to say.

"What about them?"

"I told them that it was my birthday tomorrow – or, well, it's today now, isn't it. But it was tomorrow when I told them. Well, technically it was yesterday when I told them, but in the context of me telling them about my birthday, my birthday was tomorrow, which is now today," Freed spewed the mess of words out, and Laxus could hear him frowning. "They said I needed to go out drinking. They wanted to take me out for my first legal drink."

"Yer turning nineteen, not twenty-one," Laxus deadpanned, though smirked.

"Oh yes, so I am," Freed was frowning. "I broke the law many times tonight then."

"Sounds like it," Laxus chuckled. "You only just gettin' in? It's pretty late. Or early, I guess."

"No, we left the club at about one. We've been in the dorms for a few hours, Cana knows someone who can get us beer cheap, so we kept going. Someone made me brownies, but I wasn't allowed to eat them because apparently they had pot in them, so Mirajane slapped the guy and said she'd report him to campus security because we only found out when Jet and Droy started talking about the walls having a face," Freed laughed heartily, and Laxus smiled, imagining the man's expression as he did so. "Why do people always put weed into brownies? It's so overdone. Why do you never hear of a pot carrot cake or banana loaf?"

"Brownies are easy to make, I guess," Laxus grinned.

This was uncharted territory for Laxus. Freed wasn't exactly a total rule follower, but his parents were strict and so alcohol was something he'd never risked. Laxus had always wondered what a drunk Freed would be like. Apparently, he rambled and was happy. It was a nice side of him to hear.

"You think brownies are harder than a banana cake? You know nothing about baking," Freed laughed at him, and Laxus smirked. "Do I have time to bake a pot filled gateau, do you think? It might make mother's book club interesting at last."

"Don't spike your ma with drugs Freed," Laxus instructed, and Freed laughed.

"Yes, it sounds bad put like that," Freed agreed. He was quiet for a moment, and Laxus heard the sound of something hitting the floor. Perhaps one of his boots, given the clunk. Laxus had become something of an expert at figuring out what Freed was doing by the sounds he made. "It'd serve them right. Rather see you than them."

"Come on Freed," Laxus sighed. "They're your parents, they wanna see you."

"Well they didn't on parents' weekend, or at thanksgiving, so why now?" Freed huffed, fabric shifting now. He was probably getting into bed. "They're taking me to dinner, and I saw the place. It's got five stars, Laxus. That means it'll be stifled and pretentious. They won't know what to say to me, so we'll just eat in silence and we'll all want it to end because we know we don't have anything in common and they're only coming because it'll look bad if they don't," Laxus wished he could deny the claim, but he knew Freed's parents and that was probably true. "Would've rather gotten the train to Washington so I could see you."

"Shouldn't I be coming to yours?" Laxus asked, trying to change the subject to something less maudlin. "It's your birthday."

"You saw my campus when you drove us home," Freed dismissed, and Laxus supposed he had. They'd driven back to Magnolia together for some time alone, as Laxus passed Freed's college on the drive back. "It's my turn to see your place. Your classrooms, your student lounge," He paused, and was clearly smirking when he spoke again. "Your bed."

"My bed, huh?" Laxus smirked. "What were you gonna-"

Laxus would have continued, but an airborne pillow slammed into his face. It took his sleep-lagged brain a moment to understand what had happened, and he slowly looked towards his glaring, very much awake roommate. He probably should have realised that the phone would have woken them both up, not just Laxus.

They looked at each other for a moment, Bickslow unblinking. Laxus wanted to speak, but no words came, and Bickslow was the one to fill the silence.

"Look, you know I'm cool with you two being together. Probably been to more of the marches than either of you two, so be as gay as you wanna be," Bickslow's voice was croaky and hoarse. "But don't phone fuck when I'm in the room. It's just bad manners."

"We weren't gonna-" Laxus cut himself off. He couldn't be sure of his words, so instead he said a guilty, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Bickslow shrugged. "Just give me my pillow back and we'll call it even."

Laxus did as he was told, and Bickslow took it, hooked it around his head so it covered his ears, and turned to lie facing the wall. It was as close to privacy they could get in the small room without either of them leaving, and Laxus appreciated the action. When he spoke again, his voice was more of a gentle whisper.

"You should probably get to sleep," He instructed, and grinned when he heard a yawn overpowering his words. "Make sure you drink water before you crash, okay? And don't bother with yer classes, you'll either still be drunk or too hungover to take anything in."

"Yes, I suppose I will be," Freed agreed. "I'll call you once my parents leave."

"Okay," Laxus nodded. "Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you," Freed said softly. "Goodnight. Love you."

"Love you too."

Laxus hung up the phone, curled himself back under his covers and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to sleep, he heard the grinning words of his roommate as he said, 'you two are so damn cute.' Laxus' retort of 'fuck you' was only slightly less threatening because of the smile he couldn't shake, and the yawn he couldn't hold back.

---

"Don't talk, I need to say something."

"Laxus? What's wrong?"

Laxus was jittery. He'd been jittery all day. He'd had nervous energy throughout the night, and it kept waking him up and he did whatever he could to get to sleep but nothing had worked, and he'd found himself stressed, awake and jittery. He couldn't stop moving. Couldn't stop bouncing his leg or taping his fingers or flexing his arms because he needed to do something with this energy, but he didn't know what.

At six AM, after a night of awful, interrupted sleep, he'd decided enough was enough. He'd changed into running gear, pulled out his Walkman and stormed from his dorm room. He'd ran for however long, and yet the jitteriness didn't go. If anything, it made things worse.

Calling Freed had been a last resort.

He hadn't returned to campus yet, instead finding a phone booth to climb into. It had started to rain as he'd run, and he was dripping wet as he rang Freed's number. The cold and the wet were the last things on his mind. He just needed to get on the call with Freed, just needed to hear that thing's would be okay and that he was making a big deal out of nothing. Freed was a smart guy, and he wouldn't bullshit Laxus about important things. No; Freed would make things okay.

"Dad's court case was moved forward," Laxus spluttered before he could stop himself.

It was supposed to be in the autumn. It was supposed to be months away. That would give Laxus time to prepare himself, to know what he was going to say. To get out of his own head so that he could focus on taking the bastard to jail. It was not supposed to be next damn week!

Laxus was a character witness. In the trial itself, he wasn't all that important, but he knew that the media would love to know what he thought about his father. Ivan was a well-known businessman, and his scandal had been national news. He'd made many enemies over his years working, and people were relishing in his downfall. Everyone wanted to hear how not only was Ivan a bad businessman, but a bad father too. Laxus wasn't ready for the attention, he wasn't ready for anything.

Freed took a moment to think before he replied.

"Where are you?" He asked. "Are you in your dorm? I can hear the rain."

"Erm, no," Laxus shook his head, looking around. "I'm near a park. Not sure where."

"Right," Freed murmured. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need," Laxus faltered.

He needed to be told that everything was okay. That the court case would just be a single day in his life, and he could get past it and move on. He needed to hear Freed saying that he would get past this, and that his life would return to normal. He needed to see Freed's warm smile, the one he seemed to show only to Laxus. He needed…

"It's nothing. Sorry if I woke you."

"Go back to your dorm, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What?"

"The trains start running early. I can probably be at yours by ten," Freed mused aloud. "I want you to go back and try to sleep. You mentioned that Bickslow has hypnosis tapes he uses to sleep, borrow one."

"Freed, you don't need to come here," Laxus tried to argue, though he didn't want to. "You don't have the money."

"I'll find it," Freed dismissed. "The next train leaves at seven, I believe. I'll be on it."

"Freed."

"Laxus."

Anyone who thought that Laxus was the more stubborn one out of the two of them clearly didn't know Freed.

"You really don't need to come," Laxus whispered, the rain pounding on the small box he sheltered in. "I'll be fine."

"You deserve to be better than fine, Laxus," Freed whispered back.

Silence hung on the line, and at that moment Laxus' world only persisted of the small phonebooth, the rain clattering down on it, and the man on the other end of the phone. He closed his eyes, clenched them shut, and tried to focus on the soft sound of Freed's breathing. Freed was coming. He was coming to make things better. As much as Laxus wanted to protest more, because Freed couldn't afford it and he was going to miss his classes, he just wanted his boyfriend in his arms. He just wanted him there.

"Are you sure?" He asked in a shaking sob.

"Of course," Freed assured him. "Go back to your room and sleep, I'll be there soon."

Laxus did indeed return to his room. He showered off the rainwater, ignored Bickslow's questions as to what happened, and curled up into bed. The white noise tape that Bickslow gave him cleared his mind, and as he assured himself that the clump of blanket he was clinging to would soon be replaced with Freed, he felt everything become just a little more manageable.

---

Sun hit Laxus' face, a gentle warmth that woke him up. He smiled as it happened.

A roadside motel was hardly the most comfortable place to wake up, but Laxus couldn't think of anywhere better to be at that time. No amount of bitter coffee, cramped showers, awful breakfasts, and itchy sheets would stop that. Not when he was waking up with Freed in his arms.

It was Freed's graduation day, the final nail in the coffin of their shared college experiences. Once today had finished, there would be no more dorm rooms, no more phone calls, no more long distance. They just needed to get through the ceremony, and they would be free to spend as much time as they wanted together, without the looming dread of being split apart by the oncoming semester that had previously seemed ever present.

It was over. They were done with college and free to love each other fully and wholly.

They'd found an apartment they could afford. They'd gotten an odd look when their realter had seen two men wanting to live in a cramped, one bedroom apartment, but they didn't care. Three years split apart was over, and they felt they deserved their own place no matter what other people thought about it. They'd more than paid their dues in being apart; they were owed time, and a home, together.

It worked out well. Freed's career meant he needed to continue studying, and he'd found placement in a hospital on a partial scholarship in New York. Laxus, over his time in college, had decided sports journalism was where his passion lay, and he'd been shortlisted for multiple internships in the city. It was all perfect.

Speaking of perfect, Freed made a small mewling sound as he woke.

"Mornin'," Laxus smiled.

"Morning," Freed croaked. He leant up and pressed his lips against Laxus', resting against his body. "You're awake early."

"Excited to see you get yer degree," Laxus shrugged.

"Excited to see me leaving the dorms, more like," Freed chuckled, resting his head against Laxus' chest.

"Can you blame me?" Laxus asked as he ran a hand down Freed's side and kissed his crown.

"Not at all," Freed hummed, contentedly.

Laxus hummed, watching as the new morning sun filled the room. Flashes of a future where this would be his every morning, where Freed would always fall asleep in his arms and wake up beside him. Freed would be his, and he would be Freed's, as they were always supposed to be.

Their love story was quiet, made up of fleeting moments and late-night phone calls. Not the stuff of fairy tales, but, for them, perfect.

[limenysnocket]

Blurred Stars and Even Blurrier Nights

Taika Waititi x Reader

Summary: After a late night out, Taika and (Y/N) wake up next to each other the next morning, in their undergarments. Despite being close friends, this predicament leads to an untimely confession.

Request: ////

Warnings: possible smut, a bit of a praise kink, usage of alcohol, soft sex and language.

Word count: 3,076

Author's note: This is going to be extremely fluffy too, unlike my last one. But, please forgive me if this turns out awful, like what usually happens.

I also take requests, so please, give them. Hand them over.

Also, this is only section 1 of the story. I'm thinking about making a part two, if this all goes well.

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Section 1: The Morning Of

You took a deep breath, the heady scent of familiar cologne filling your nose and the soft heat of the morning sun filled your body with warmth, along with the sheets, and surprisingly, another warm body.

'Great,' you thought to yourself, 'One more one night stand to add to the list.'

You felt them shift against your back, their somewhat hairy chest sending tingles rippling down your skin like a stone tossed in a pond. You needed to see them. If they felt mature enough, then maybe they would be mature enough to not complain when they findd you gone when they wake up. You kept your hopes high as you attempted to turn around in their arms without waking them. When you had completely shifted again, onto your other side, you had to bite back a gasp of shock and there was mental restraints strapping you down from shooting away from the bed.

Wonder why the cologne on the pillow smelled so familiar? Now you know why. It was Taika's, one of your closest friends and long time crushes. You were in Taika's room, in Taika's bed, in Taika's arms.

His mustache was ruffled, hair disheveled and there were remnants of the dark bags beneath his eyes. It was very much apparent to you that he was wearing nothing but his boxers which you were very curious to find out the color of.

You couldn't leave his arms, 'less you wanted to wake him, which you kinda did. Your stomach growled, and you were only in your undergarments as well. It was a nice set, and you notice it hadn't been torn, but no matter how nice you looked in a set of underwear, this was serious!

It seemed obvious that nothing happened between you and Taika the night before, but the lipstick stains on his neck only made things seep in even deeper within your stomach. God, the night before. The two of you and possibly Jemaine went out together and all of you got shitfaced until your hangovers kicked in in the middle of all the muddled, drunken mess. It was even a headache to think about what happened. How you ended up here, you didn't want to know right now.

"God fucking damn it..." you whisper to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut too quickly to notice the slight twitch of Taika's mustache and that twitch flew to his lips. His face was slowly starting up and the last thing to power up was his beautiful, deep brown eyes. "Good morning to you too, gorgeous."

Your eyes flew open. He was grinning as wide as the Cheshire cat and his eyes seemed to scan the shock on your face. "Wild night last night, huh?" He poked fun, pulling his arm back slightly so his hand could rest on your naked side. "You were unhinged last night, baby."

Your cheeks flushed brightly and you smacked his chest, "Taika, you know we never did anything like that last night!" You folded your arms across your chest and you scooted away from him while slapping the hand off your waist. You flipped back over onto your other side and tried to avoid talking to him, but he was persistent.

"I beg to differ," He laughed, wrapping both of his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck. This set your entire body ablaze but the heat mainly scrambled between your legs. "You were all over me last night, (Y/N). It was flattering," he laughed again, now brushing his lips against the back of your neck, "and during the time you were grinding that cute bum of yours on my crotch, you kind of told me something." Your eyes widened. Oh God, he remembered that? It was a mistake for you to remember it, and it was an even bigger one for him to remember it too! Your confession.

"You told me that you just so happened to love me, and that you wanted me in your pants," he snickered. "Of course, you might remember us getting back here to my home, sucking faces and tearing our clothes off as we went-- your shirt is on the ceiling fan downstairs by the way-- but, I just couldn't do you. Not yet. I wanted our first time to be sober, so you could feel everything and remember what it felt like instead of just dealing with sore hips in the morning without knowing how they got like that." So he wanted this? He planned this, the need to get you under him?

His nose went back up into your hair and you felt him inhale deeply, "And I want to feel myself inside you and memorize that feeling without it all being fuzzy." He chuckled softly, gently pressing his lips against the back of your head.

You drew in a deep, shaky breath. Just the sound of his rumbly voice had you weak at the knees and the heat between your legs was more intense than ever. "I'm gonna go find my clothes," you made up the excuse and pushed away from him before his hands could crawl any more seductively over your body. He let out an exasperated sigh, more of a groan really, as you got up and started searching for your clothes. He propped himself on his elbows while you searched around the room, letting his eyes shamelessly roll over your body.

Not wanting to deal with the tension any more, you quickly hid yourself in one of his many white shirts and started downstairs. Your pants were along the railing of the stairs, softly drifting every once in awhile like a flag in the wind. Of course, he was right whenever he had said that your shirt was on the ceiling fan. You had to stand on his expensive coffee table to get it, getting up on your tippy toes too where you were juuuust able to reach.

You didn't have the mind to even put your clothes on as you went. You wanted to find them all first, even if you knew in the back of your brain, Taika was going to start following you around eventually. There was a deep feeling in your heart that wanted him to follow you.

Eventually, all your late night clubbing clothes were gathered up in one pile and you slowly peeled Taika's white shirt from your body, not knowing or noticing the soft steps on the stairs. They stopped about halfway, yet you still didn't notice. He was watching you with a longing look, lip between his teeth and his eyes going wherever they pleased. He waited until you were finished dressing before he moved like he didn't just stand in the same spot for the past few minutes to watch all of your beautiful skin get covered up by clothing.

"Want me to make you breakfast?" He broke the silence and startled your wits out of you. Oh, how easy would it have been to just say that you could pick up something from a nearby coffee shop on your way back home, but your stomach growled, and who knew how fast a cab was going to get there at this time in the morning. So you nodded begrudgingly. His boxers were navy blue, by the way. You tried not to make it obvious that you were staring, but you managed to catch too many glimpses of them between his fluffy, white robe.

Taika grinned widely as he went to the kitchen, knowing that you were following closely behind him.

You sat down at island and tapped your fingers against the counter. You were nervous. Were you supposed to act this awkward? I mean, you had never done something so promiscuous with Taika before, not even close... Well, maybe a few times there had been close calls as to you two getting a bit touchy, or whispering dirty things into each other's ear on set whenever someone has a line that's particularly lewd. It happened multiple times on Hunt for the Wilderpeople. Strangely enough, he would do it more than you, and he had a habit of keeping you close to his side the same time.

Had he always felt this way about you? Had there always been this desire to get you beneath him or kiss you like he did last night? You told him that you loved him, that you had felt that way... You don't remember if he said I love you back.

Before you know it, the clink of a plate hitting the surface before you and the aroma of amazing food wafted upwards into your face. "Bacon will be ready in a few moments. I made a bunch and I didn't know how many pieces you want, so I'll let you grab all that you need," he winked. It made you blush a little, you're embarrassed to admit.

What he had given you looked like a little droplet of heaven before you. Fired eggs and French toast. You know they are pretty easy to make, but God damn, did it smell amazing. You took your knife and fork and cut up your food into pieces, like a civilized being. You weren't in the mood to embarrass yourself in front of Taika possibly more than twice within the matter of just 24 hours. Eventually the sizzle of the grill had stopped and Taika was pushing dishes into the sink for a brief washing much later. He set himself up across from you, leaning over the counter slightly while he set down the massive plate full of bacon between the two of you.

He picked up a piece of bacon and started munching like nothing was wrong, like this was a normal day of him being half naked in front of you for the first time since you accidentally walked in on his audition many years ago for the New Zealand show called "The Strip". That was always a pleasant memory, even though he hated it every time you brought it up.

The more the silence grew between you, the more awkward you felt and the more you wanted to say something.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him, and you have loved him ever since you met him in an odd job both of you shared along the outskirts of Wellington, but most of all, you wanted to ask him if he loved you back. You wanted to know if you really are wasting your time chasing a man who can't be obtained.

It was eating you up, the silence. Oh, fuck it.

"You know, I meant what I said last night," you said, letting your fork drop and hit the plate with a loud simmering crack. He didn't move from his position, his jaw was still shifting up and down as he chewed on his food. He was thinking about what he wanted to say. You saw his chest puff up a little and the Adam's apple on his throat bobbed when he swallowed.

"(Y/N)," he said in his low drawl. He seemed vulnerable now, the powerful presence that he usually had just disappeared from his soul. He set down his fork and placed his hands on the table, standing a little straighter now. He looked up at you, his eyes just so visible through the forest of silky, silver curls on his head. You almost wanted to hate him for each time he looked at you like that. It made your heart throb in the most aching way and your nails sunk into your palms.

"I love you too..."

Those words hit you like a semi-truck and you didn't realize it until your lips crashed against his that you had risen out of your seat and leaned as far as you could over the island. He kissed you back after a few moments of shock, and raised his right hand to gently push it into your hair.

You felt the familiar feeling of his mustache along your upper lip, and heard the scraping of plates on the counter. He had moved all of your plates away then gently latched his hands onto your waist. He tugged you into the island and you got the hint, briefly parting from his lips and hopping onto the counter. He did the same, doing his best to avoid the hanging light that dangled dangerously close to both of your heads. He laid you down on your back, placed himself between your legs, and leaned down to kiss you again, this time with more want and passion. He was gentle with you and it felt incredibly sweet.

Taika took things slow, gently pushing his hand up your shirt to rest his hand on your stomach and he rubbed soft circles. You shuddered beneath his touch, but, at the same time, melted for him. Once he felt like his intentions with you were shown enough, he slid your entire shirt off of your body to expose one half of the lovely undergarment set you had worn. With that gone, he dropped his robe and carelessly tossed it on the floor. You both stayed like this, making out and slowly shedding you of your clothes. It was beautiful, amazing and passionate.

Taika parted with your lips to catch a breath, once you were completely undressed, left how you were when you woke up this morning. "You're sure you want to do this?" He whispered deeply in your ear. You let out a gentle moan, "Please."

He swallowed thickly, then nodded. He curled a finger around the hem of your underwear, gently gliding it down your thighs, then your ankles and tossed it onto the ground. He went for your bra and your back arched so he could have better access to the clip on the back. Once he knew how to do it, after feeling around it for a bit, he got it off and just stared for a long while. A smirk crept up on his lips after a few breathless moments. One of his hands placed itself on your chest, just beneath your throat, then it started sliding down to where it was beneath both of your breasts. He rubbed that space with tender passion and watched your face contort with need. He leaned down again so his hot breath beat against your ear, "How long have you been wanting this?"

You were almost to out of breath to answer him. The way he had you right now just knocked the breath out of you with one, simple glance. "A-a long time...~," you breathed out, rolling your hips up and bucking softly into the very apparent bulge in his boxers. His hand crept down between your legs and started to rub your now slick folds. "Mm, that answer isn't good enough, (Y/N)~," he growled, his hand now teasing your sensitive folds.

You moaned out his name into the air as he pinched and massaged your clit. "Tell me how long, (Y/N)," he whispered again, his teeth scraping against the lobe of your ear.

"Ever since I walked in on your audition~," you let escape from your mouth. You didn't have to describe which audition it was, because he already knew. You talked about it quite a bit, just to mess with him or compare where he was then and where he was now during drunk, emotional ramblings, usually with Jemaine around.

"Oh? Did the sight of me shirtless turn you on~?" He purred again, now dragging his boxers down his thighs while he watched you squirm beneath him. "Yes~," you responded, letting out groans of desperate need. He was smirking as he pulled away from your ear and he wrapped a finger around your chin while the other went to his length. He gently slipped into you, keeping your face aimed towards him so he could see every single scrunch of your face.

"You're so beautiful~," he purred started to slowly thrust, keeping it soft and slow. "You like this, don't you, baby~?"

All you could give to him was nods and moans in turn to his questions. He started getting faster with his motions the tighter he felt you clamp around him. His curls were sticking to his forehead and he let out soft groans and sighs, his hips rolling and the wet slaps of skin on skin sent the both of you higher than the moon. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck and he kissed at your sensitive skin, occasionally scraping his teeth against it too. "You're mine now, understand~?" He growled and panted against your skin. You nodded again, all the emotions hitting you at once. He claimed you and now you were his.

"Taika, I'm close~," you managed to moan out, your back arching upwards and your hands clawing at the counter beneath you. "Go for it, babe~. I wanna hear everything~," he purred, biting his lip. You could feel him coming closer to the end as well. He knew how to handle himself well down there, but his facial expressions said otherwise, every time he would lift up and kiss you roughly.

He dropped his hands down to your hips and held on tightly, he wanted this, he needed this and you needed this too.

"Fuck-- Taika~!!" You screamed out and bucked your hips while you came. Taika's thrusts became rough yet shallow, random ruts in attempt to gain pleasure. His nails dug into your hips and made you since softly. Their intense grip only released whenever he did. Luckily, he pulled out and poured it all onto your stomach.

He was panting heavily, his eyes squeezed shut, and his hands now softly massaging your hips, the best they could at least. Sweat dripped down his temple and your chest rose and fell immensely. He lifted himself off of you and sat up, completely forgetting about the dangling light. He remembered whenever it collided with the back of his head.

Both of you were in shock for a minute before smiles cocked up on the corners of your mouths. Taika was the first to break and let out a burst of laughter, you were hot on his heels, as if you both didn't have intimacy less than a few minutes ago.

Well... you guessed you could get used to doing something like this.

[haikyuu-philia]

helloooooo!!! :3 i'm just gonna order mah usual - one cold akaashi angst with extra fluff please???? thank you ~

Thanks for your order! Here is your scenario with an extra portion of fluff in the end. Enjoy (^o^)

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A Game of Truths | An Akaashi x Reader Scenario

Tags: Fluff; Truth or Dare at its best; Akaashi not knowing how to properly express feelings

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All of this had started as a simple study session with three of your friends. Well, you were considering one of them a little more than that and his name was Akaashi.

Nevertheless it wasn't his fault that your meeting together with him, Bokuto and your best friend had escalated into an intense round of Truth or Dare.

Sitting in a circle in the middle of your room, which you definitely hadn't tidied up to make a good impression beforehand, the bottle started spinning every now and then.

Well, it was more of a game to interrogate the other people by asking more intimate questions with every round. You weren't exactly happy about being part of it because some secrets were made to be kept a secret.

That included everything from information about your feelings for a specific friend of yours and much more.

Everytime the bottle pointed at you, you could feel your heart skipping a beat since you were quite terrified of weird questions.

Like that one time that your best friend had asked Bokuto, if he was a virgin or not. Nothing was sure or safe whenever it stopped spinning.

The only thing you could have trust in happened to be that your best friend wouldn't spill about your feelings towards Akaashi by asking something like "Who is your crush, (Y/N)?"

She had promised to never throw you under the bus this way.

"Sooooo, (Y/N), if you have one, who is your CRUSH?"

Bokuto seemed to have the desperate need of being hit by a bottle.

Was he asking that on purpose? Did he notice anything? More importantly, was Akaashi aware of anything?!

You found yourself as the center of attention when you were looking up. Even the boy who was special in your opinion had decided to turn his head into your direction.

By the time you had gotten used to his emotionless face that he presented nearly all the time. But despite answering the questions with as few words as possible, he hadn't complained about the decision to play Truth or Dare.

He seemed so calm, no matter what the question was. And a tiny part of you had wished for the bottle to point at him more often whenever it was Bokuto's or your best friend's turn to ask a question. 

On the other hand you couldn't bring yourself to ask them. The fear of hearing a different name than yours, if he got asked about his crush, was too strong.

Same for answering the open question truthfully. You thought about saying his name for a second, but the mere thought of him feeling uncomfortable because of it made you forget about this idea.

Instead you shifted your weight: "This is the moment I stop playing to get us some drinks. Maybe I will join again later."

Akaashi's glance followed your figure while you were standing up from the ground. Much to Bokuto's dismay since he hadn't gotten an answer.

His complaints only stopped after you had actually closed the door behind you after you had entered the hallway.

Sighing you decided that this had been the closest one to being exposed so far. Luckily this was your home and therefore you actually had an excuse to do something, like bringing drinks.

A few minutes later you struggled a bit with opening the door again thanks to the tray in your hands. Balancing four glasses filled with different drinks wasn't the easiest task to fulfill while you tried to use the doorknob.

Very slowly the door opened in front of you, which made you able to overhear the ongoing conversation without being noticed.

Your best friend was talking: "Why is everyone choosing Truth and not Dare? But anyway, Akaashi, how would you react, if you found out that (Y/N) has a big crush on you?"

You could hear the smirk on her face. In contrast yours reflected the horror that was going on in your mind. Why on earth was this happening?

Being completely distracted the tray in your hands lost balance and before you could do anything to correct it, the glasses made their way down to the ground.

They shattered just like the trust in your friend had some moments earlier.

The door was opened by someone else from the other side to reveal all of your three friends.

First they stared at you. Then at the mess of glass and drinks to your feet.

"Sorry for probably shocking you. I-I'm going to get things to clean this up. Don't worry about it!", you excused yourself again to retreat into the kitchen.

Leaning over the sink you just wanted all humans on earth to disappear. What had begun as an innocent study session, was about to end in a nightmare for you.

Questions circled in your head while you tried to calm down your trembling fingers. And to stop yourself from tearing up.

In this emotional mess you didn't even hear the footsteps that echoed in the hallway. So you jumped when someone started speaking.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

Akaashi was the one asking these questions. It would have let your heart skip a beat in the beginning, but now it only supported your urge to run away and never come back.

With a weird grin you looked up, trying to cover all the negative thoughts. To no avail.

Before you even spoke a word, you could tell from a look into his eyes that he had already figured you out from head to toe. He read you like an open book.

Good job, (Y/N). Maybe you should think about moving to another country with a new identity.

You showed your heads by putting them up into the air next to your head: "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'll clean it up and no one will know that it happened."

Oh, how you wished that you could say the same thing about the part of the conversation that you had accidentally eavesdropped.

"I'm glad to hear that", he said in his usual monotonous voice. "No offense, but you don't look fine."

You loved him. You really did. But this wasn't the right moment from his direct personality to ask questions like this. How were you supposed to answer them?

So you went silent.

After he didn't get an answer to his question, he stepped closed to you to make sure that you actually heard what he was saying. Little did he know that he was stepping across the border of your comfort zone.

"Are you really okay, (Y/N)? Your face is all red. Do you have a fever?"

Again you didn't find the right words to say. Screw that fluttering heart of yours.

It went silent in the kitchen and you weren't even couraged enough to look into his eyes.

But his next question made you raise your glance in confusion: "(Y/N), Truth or Dare?"

Was that Akaashi talking? Or did he change personalities with Bokuto for a second? That was so out of character and unexpected that it nearly made you chuckle.

But this determination in his look told you that he was being serious, like he always was.

"Truth", you mumbled automatically.

To get rid of the stress that became stronger and stronger inside of you, you started to fiddle with your own fingers.

"(Y/N), do you have a crush on me?"

You gulped. You widened your eyes. You wanted to die on the spot. Not to forget, that you cursed your best friend.

Well, under these circumstances it wasn't a good option to lie. This was your chance to spill about your feelings, that were already piling up in your chest.

Honestly you even thought that your physical reaction to his question had given away the truth before one word left your mouth. For once in your life you wanted to be brave.

So your heart replaced your brain in the blink of an eye: "I have. And I'm terribly afraid that this is going to ruin our friendship. But I've totally fallen for you, Akaashi Keiji."

It was his turn to stare as you had done it. For you it seemed like his mind was working, desperately trying to find a matching response.

Again you wanted to cry. Of course you hadn't expected a positive reaction to your confession. It was Akaashi you were talking about. God damn perfect Akaashi. But your heart ached anyway.

The silence was killing you. Or to explain it better the tiny spark of hope in your head that he wouldn't turn you down, which would die the moment he would start speaking.

Tears made their way to your eyes.

"Akaashi?", you said slowly to prevent your voice from cracking. "Truth or Dare?"

You gave it your best to smile while the wholesituation was actually tearing you apart.

"Truth", he answered. As calm as ever, but trying to avoid eye contact. At least you felt this way.

"What do you think about it? Me having feelings for you that are more than friendship."

A part of you was still trying to analyse how you had ended up as the protagonist of this scenario. About two hours ago you were simply studying for an upcoming test in Biology and now your near future was depending on one answer.

"Well, I'm a little overwhelmed to be honest", he began to start something what sounded like a negative respond. Your poor heart cracked instantly.

"B-Because I was planning to confess to you first and definitely not in your kitchen."

Luckily you weren't balancing another tray with glasses at the moment since you definitely would have let go of it. Speaking of broken glass, you weren't thinking about the mess in your room at all.

But Akaashi wasn't finished yet: "Once more, Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

Your voice was extremely close to escalating as it was already going up without control. Even your volume didn't listen to your commands, which caused you to nearly whisper.

For a second you and Akaashi only stared into each other's eyes. Then his lips moved.

"(Y/N), do you want me as your boyfriend?"

These were the words that made you cry. All the pressure was gone, the panic of being rejected and you felt lighter than ever.

Before a first sob could escape from your mouth, you nodded as your answer. The feelings inside of you overwhelmed you so much that you took the change to hold onto Akaashi.

Surprisingly, but not less overwhelmed, he closed his arms behind your back to pull you into the hug.

Amazing what a simple game of Truth or Dare could make possible.

-----

Posted: September 30th | Requests: Open | Match-ups: Closed

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Fractured Foundation: Scorned Soul

Ch.2 Corruption

Based on @gale-of-the-nomads Fired AU.

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Something was wrong with Adrien.

Everyone could see it. When Nino came up for their usual morning fist bump Adrien returned it mechanically. Ever-present smile replaced by what would become a permanent scowl.

Frowning, Nino dropped his fist slowly. "You alright, bro?"

Pausing for a moment Adrien walked past him, toward the school doors and answered almost indifferently. "No."

Blinking in shock, Nino hurried to catch up with him. "Wait! Dude!" Blocking his best friend's path to the stairs, Nino placed his hand on Adrien's shoulder. "What happened, bro?" Worry evident in his tone. Adrien never admitted when something was wrong.

Averting his eyes Adrien tensed at the physical contact. Grip tightening on the strap of his messenger bag. "I don't want to talk about it."

Brow furrowing as his concern grew Nino dropped his hand. "Well... Okay. But if you change your mind, you know you can tell me anything. Right, bro?"

"... Right," Adrien agreed, not looking at him. "Thanks, Nino." With that he stepped past his best friend and headed towards homeroom.

Leaving Nino more worried than before.

 ---------------------

Chloe noticed Adrien's change but didn't understand what it meant. Assuming he would get over it in a few days and everything would be back to normal. Which is what led her to "invite" him to one of the Mayor's events.

"Adri-kins!" Chloe called, placing herself in Adrien's way. "Daddy's throwing a party this weekend! You'll be there!" Chloe smiled, pleased with herself.

Annoyed at the command in her tone and Chloe taking for granted that he'd do whatever she said, his scowl deepened. Adrien stepped back as Chloe got in his face. "No, thanks."

But Sabrina was there, blocking his path. Smiling like she usually did whenever she thought Chloe's plans were particularly good. Always loyal. Always faithful.

Always with nothing to show for it!

Jaw clenching as simmering annoyance boiled into the beginnings of rage, it pooled in Adrien's chest and made it's way up his throat.

"Don't be silly!" Chloe waved her ponytail dismissively. "Of course, you have to show!"

Fists curling, Adrien dug his fingernails into his palms. Leaving new imprints next to the old. "I don't feel like being around people right now."

"But I have the perfect dress that will look great next to your latest suit! I'm going to be even more stunning with you-"

"I'M NOT AN ACCESSORY!"

The courtyard was stunned into silence. Every classmate stared, drawn by Adrien's outburst. Surprise, confusion, even a hint of fear, all of their reactions mixed in Chloe's wide eyes. Mirrored by Adrien's.

A different kind of heat burned in his chest. Shame. He'd screamed at Chloe. That wasn't... You didn't... Lowering his gaze Adrien hurried away.

Blinking, Chloe stared uncomprehending at Adrien's retreating back. Whispers already starting. She could feel them all around her as their classmates speculated on what she could have done to finally make Adrien snap. Some even expressing pride in his outburst.

Refusing to give them any satisfaction, Chloe raised her head haughtily as she left their whispers behind. Sabrina, as always, on her heels.

Marinette stared after Adrien. A sense of dread filling her at the display. She didn't understand. Adrien was kind and patient and loyal to a fault. He wouldn't do that. Not even to Chloe. But what could she do?

 ----------------------

Lila heard about the incident when she came back from doing "charity work" later that week. Naturally, she would offer some much needed emotional support! And Adrien would be ever so grateful.

Spotting Nino talking to Adrien, the latter with his back to her, Lila smirked as she approached them.

"Come on, bro. We haven't hung out in ages." Nino practically pleaded. "I'm... worried about you, man."

Adrien's icy expression melted slightly. "I know. I'm-"

"There you are!" Lila exclaimed, tone too saccharin to sell the "concerned friend" act she was going for.

Adrien stiffened at the sound of her voice.

"Hey, Lila." Nino greeted with a strained smile.

"I heard about what happened!" Lila molded her features into a look of sympathy, hands reaching for his arm. "If you need someone to talk to, Adrien, I took a psychology course at my old school and my instructor said-"

Adrien turned toward her and Lila froze, the words dying in her throat.

Disgust twisted his perfect features. Contemptuous glare expressing his hatred for Lila in no uncertain terms. Body jerking away from her repulsive hands, Adrien marched past Nino with a muttered goodbye, putting as much distance between him and the liar as he could.

Standing where he left her, Lila blinked in surprise. Nino was apologizing and making excuses for his best friend; she barely listened. Eyes narrowing at the ungrateful jerk. How dare he! She was just being considerate! After all the chances Lila had given him, this is how he repaid her!?

Refocusing on the wannabe DJ, Lila lamented how she was only trying to help. Making sure her voice was loud enough to get their passing classmates' attention. Emphasizing how Adrien obviously wasn't in his right mind. As Lila soaked up their attention she hid a satisfied smirk behind her hands. If Adrien wanted to treat her like an enemy then she'd return the favor.

Observing from across the courtyard Marinette felt agitation and unease growing in her chest.

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

Alya slid onto the bench next to Marinette with a sigh. Her energetic attitude unusually subdued. "Hey, girl," Alya greeted tiredly.

Marinette took one look at Alya and her face fell. "No luck with Nino?"

Frowning, Alya shook her head. "Says Adrien hasn't told him anything either. They've barely talked!" It frustrated her! As a reporter Alya should be able to find answers! ...As a friend she should be able to help...

But she couldn't. Alya wasn't someone who backed down easily. Yet, whenever Adrien was near she found herself avoiding the ice cold air that followed him around. A chill that seemed to grow colder each passing day.

And she wasn't the only one. The whole class could feel it. Intense pressure around Adrien that only seemed to grow. Like it was getting ready to blow. No one wanted to be around when that happened.

Marinette knew what Alya was thinking. She voiced her opinion often enough the last few weeks and Marinette's own thoughts followed the same track. It wasn't something Marinette liked dwelling on.

Still, this was Adrien. Her friend and unknowing crush, but that didn't matter right now, what mattered was helping him through whatever this was and that meant talking to him about what he needed, and Marinette was going to help at least one friend because if she didn't then-

Taking a deep breath Marinette stood up a bit too quickly. "If we can't find out what happened from Nino, then maybe we need to be more direct."

Alya frowned in worry. "You gonna ask him?" By which she meant Adrien. Adrien who Marinette had a hard time composing herself around, Adrien who held her best friend's heart in his now perpetually clenched fists, Adrien who rebuffed every attempt to get him to open up.

Marinette heard the concern and doubt in Alya's voice. "I have to try. Even if he doesn't want to talk to me, I have to try. Let him know we're worried about him. That I-" She shook her head. "That we, miss him..."

Alya smiled softly. Nodding, she stood and wrapped an arm around Marinette. "Alright then." Her best friend had that look in her eye. The one Alya knew from experience meant Marinette had made up her mind and would not be changing it.

They hoped Adrien would listen.

 -------------------

Marinette knew it was her idea but standing in front of Adrien she couldn't help but hesitate. What if she said the wrong thing? Or couldn't get the words out? Or Adrien brushed her off? Or-

"Did you need something?" Adrien shifted uncomfortably in front of Marinette, eyes downcast.

She'd called out to him and now stood blocking his path. He didn't want to be rude to her yet, lately, Adrien had been nothing but rude. Carefully cultivated patience vanishing like one of Rena Rouge's illusions.

Was everything about him fake? Did his vapid smile really hide nothing but pain and rage? Is that why his friends avoided him? Because they finally saw the real Adrien!? Hollow, boring, broken Adrien?

Such intrusive thoughts plagued Adrien constantly. Keeping him up at night, ever since- Fists clenching and frown deepening at the memory, he tried to stem his rising anger. Tried to focus on the present.

Gazing at his tense posture Marinette felt her indecision give way to her concern. "We're worried about you," she said softly.

Adrien froze, eyes widening slightly, still avoiding her gaze.

"I'm worried about you!" Marinette continued, voice trembling slightly. "You won't talk to Nino. Even Chloe avoids you. Something's wrong, everyone can see it and I..." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Adrien... What happened?"

He couldn't move, could barely breathe. Chest aching with the memory. Something was wrong? Yes. Plagg was gone and his so-called "Master" was responsible! Half his freedom taken away! Why? Because Fu didn't even give Adrien the common courtesy of a single conversation before writing him off as a lost cause!

Fists clenching tighter, his knuckles turned white as Adrien forced the words out. "... H- Have you ever had something you loved ripped away from you?"

Marinette's eyes widened at the heartbreak in his voice, shaking her head slowly. He didn't seem to notice.

"No warning, barely an explanation." Adrien tried to keep his tone level. "Someon- Something you love so much it becomes a part of you and they took him!" His voice rose. "People you trusted!" Anger rising with it. "They took him a-and you didn't even get a chance to say goodbye!" His voice broke as Adrien replayed those hated moments again and again.

"They just... They just..." He trembled, trying not to scream, his whole body burning. Adrien turned away from Marinette's pitying gaze, wrapping his arms around himself. "Please... leave me alone. I don't want to..." Lash out, hurt you, say something I'll regret. Like he'd already done to his other friends.

Confusion filled Marinette, she didn't know what to do. First Chat, now Adrien? She had to help him! Needed to help him. Despite what Adrien said she couldn't leave him. Her heart broke for him, yes, but it wasn't just that. With such powerful grief it was only a matter of when before Adrien attracted-

A black butterfly fluttered towards them.

"ADRIEN!"

His head snapped up. Eyes widening at the akuma, Adrien jerked back... Just as it anchored itself to him.

"Scorned Soul, I am Le Papillon!"

"NO!" Adrien clutched at his head shaking it desperately as if that would loosen the akuma's invasive tendrils from his mind.

"The people you trusted most have betrayed you!"

"I WON'T!" Adrien insisted falling to his knees. "I WON'T, I WON'T I WON'T!"

"They've taken something precious from you! Denied what was rightfully yours!"

Adrien tried to blot out Papillon's words, push back against the encroaching darkness at the edges of his mind. But his resolve was beginning to crumble. Weeks of holding back his rage, bottling up his hate... He was so tired... And the darkness offered sweet freedom...

"With the power I give you everyone will face your Justice! Even those who presumed to Judge you!"

Lowering his hands, Adrien stared straight ahead. Papillon's image engulfed his vision as his mental walls shattered.

"In return you will bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous!"

Adrien smiled sinisterly as he rose to his feet. "Yes, Papillon."

Darkness consumed Adrien. And Scorned Soul was born.

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AO3

Sorry, about not having a Read More, I'm on mobile.