#he is projecting even more by knocking someone’s teeth in rather than telling you that he cares for you

[lorelune]

someone makes a joke about kaiser potentially cheating on you and he nearly kills them btw

[heliads]

Someone's Brother, Someone's Sister

Based on this request: "y/n’s motivation for joining the dregs is that she has a sister with a work contract with pekka rollins. she wants to break into pekkas office and destroy her sisters contract. when kaz finds out he talks about his brother and y/n gets the impression he’s projecting his relationship into theirs and she resents that?"

masterlist

It is surprisingly easy to enter the home of the Dregs. The building affectionately referred to as the Slat looms on the horizon; oil lamps shine in its crooked windows like gap teeth, and the stones and brick of the exterior are unwashed and dark with soot. All who pass by it do so with great unease, tugging coat lapels over mouths lest the devil get in on a stray word that wasn’t a prayer for salvation. 

You would think it would be some kind of impenetrable fortress, but you walk right in. There are guards loitering by the door, relaxed in the knowledge that someone who wanted to be here would have tried to kill them already, and any intruder who wasn’t trying to start a fight would lose their money if not their life when they tried to leave again. People don’t just bother the Dregs. You beat them or you die trying. There is no peaceful coexistence.

The wooden boards creak under your feet, but no one casts you longer than a fleeting glance before moving on to better, brighter things. It would be a stupid idea to come here unless you were invited. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for you to navigate up to the top floor, taking the staircase level by level until the stitch in your side tells you that you’ve reached the summit.

Kaz Brekker is not expecting you. Not officially, anyway. Still, for someone who supposedly has no idea you’re coming, he looks rather unsurprised when you enter his office after knocking once on his door. You think you see a flash of black at his window, but when you double take, it’s gone. Kaz does not acknowledge the shadow’s absence any more than he points out your presence.

Instead, he tilts his head back, knocking a wave of raven-black hair from his cold gaze. “Can I help you?”

It’s a pleasant thing to say. Were it not for the fact that he’s eyeing you like you’re a lamb before the slaughter, you’d almost believe that he genuinely does want to help you. However, this is, of course, the Barrel, and no one would go out on a limb for anyone unless they had an idea of a pound of flesh they could extract for themselves.

“I have a younger sister,” you begin.

Kaz cuts you off irritably before you can progress much further than that. He waves a gloved hand, annoyed already, which isn’t a good sign. “Everybody does. Do you know how many people beg me for jobs every day? There are scores of brothers with mouths to feed in this city. If I wanted to help someone’s sick mother or dying cousin, I would run a hospital, not a gang. Get a better excuse or get out.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “Fine. I know someone working in Pekka Rollins’ office. Is that better?”

Kaz lifts one shoulder. “I have spies already.”

“Not this one,” you tell him. “My sister works in Pekka’s buildings every day. Cleaning, polishing, that sort of thing. Who knows the kinds of papers she might see? Or the people feeding him information? No one suspects the help.”

“I don’t need you to tell me the importance of spies in the shadows,” Kaz scoffs, but he’s less dismissive than before. Good. You need this to work, even if it’s a sob story he’s both heard and told time and time again.

“Is that why you sent some of your men to follow my sister and I?” You ask slowly.

Dirtyhands doesn’t smile. Kaz might, though. When the corners of his lips twitch upwards, you’re not sure if it’s a declaration of his good humor or just an indication of a wolf ready to feast on blood and gore, but either way, it’s better than the barren stare.

“Why would I send my own Dregs after a maid and her sister?” He questions you.

You meet his gaze coolly. “Because you were already looking at us as a potential source of information. I’m here to accept your job.”

“I haven’t made an offer,” Kaz points out.

You shrug. “Don’t, then. There are plenty of other gangs in the Barrel. I just need a way to get my sister out of Pekka’s grasp before it’s too late. If you won’t help, I’ll find someone else who will.”

Kaz leans forward slightly. “It isn’t the best idea to flaunt your disloyalty. If you’re just as willing to go to other gangs, why should I trust you in mine?”

“I’m as loyal as I need to be once I’m hired. Once that happens, you won’t have a reason to doubt either of us. That I can promise.” 

He cocks his head at you, considering this. “Making your sister into an informant could kill both of you. One misplaced sense of familial duty isn’t worth the agony Pekka Rollins could cause you if you fail.”

“It would be worse not to try,” you assert. “I owe her that much.”

Something passes over Kaz’s face, a shadow of something he won’t say aloud. For someone who’s heard this story before, he seems affected by it regardless. Perhaps that’s why he’s so cold and calculating outright; if his candidates are scared off by him, they won’t trouble him with their siblings and parents and relatives any longer.

At last, Kaz places his hands carefully on the desk. “I have entertained the possibility of your sister feeding me information before,” he admits, “I consider it for every new hire of his. You were already a possibility before you even knew I existed.”

He proves this statement by pulling a piece of paper out of his desk. You scan it quickly, realizing it’s a contract with a blank at the bottom for you to sign. “And what, me showing up sealed the deal?”

He nods indifferently. “It proved you were willing to face the risk of this job. I don’t want my spies to be cowards.”

“Trust me, you’ll find that both of us are brave enough,” you tell him, and sign the contract with a flourish. 

Kaz takes the paper back, eyeing you appraisingly. “I suppose we’ll find that out soon enough.”

He’s as good as his word. Not two days have gone by before you’re given a set of instructions. Your sister must find a select document in Pekka’s office while she’s cleaning and report back a series of names to you, who will in turn feed the information to Kaz. Your sister already informed you that she would be more than fine with taking this sort of risk if it would get her out, but you can’t help a knot of guilt from twisting around your stomach when you think of the disastrous consequences should she get caught in the act.

She isn’t caught, though, and soon enough you’re hurrying back to the Slat. Kaz looks microscopically more welcoming on your second visit, but this quickly shuts down when, instead of telling him your sister’s information, you start out instead by telling him that you want your sister out of Pekka’s grasp in a month or less.

“That’s absurd,” Kaz says flatly. “Why would I terminate such a useful asset?”

“Because I want her safe, and even if you won’t have her, you’ll still have me as a member of the Dregs, and I’ll be more familiar with Pekka than most of your other employees,” you argue. “Besides, you had me sign a contract, not my sister. She has no responsibility to you.”

He arches a brow. “And how exactly would you go about removing Pekka’s influence from your sister? He’s not the kind of man who gives up easily, that I can assure you.”

“It won’t be that difficult,” you assure him, “my sister’s a maid, not one of his higher level employees. I just need to get in his office so I can destroy the contract she signed with him. After that, he’ll have no reason to keep her around, and he’ll still be under the impression that she knows nothing, so she’ll just slip out from his fingertips.”

“Of course,” Kaz muses sarcastically, “it shouldn’t be any trouble at all to get into Pekka Rollins’ office. It’s not as if that office has been the object of my attention for quite some time.”

“So we’ll make a heist out of it. Fine. Send other guys with me, we can take money or documents or whatever while I tear up the contract. One month, though, and she’s out.”

Kaz is silent for some time. “You really think you can protect your sister from Pekka Rollins? No one can. No brother is strong enough to protect their family from him.”

“I have no brothers to protect me,” you whisper, “just me. If I lose my sister, I have no one.”

“You are not the only one,” he says slowly, “with no one. You would not be the first one to underestimate what you’re getting yourself into. This sort of thing can drown you.”

He shivers when he says drown, a whole body spasm. You’re not sure that he’s aware of it. You’re not even sure that he is aware of you anymore. Wherever Kaz is, it’s not here, not anymore. He is in the thrall of some memory you could not dream of understanding.

“You can’t keep anyone safe from Pekka,” Kaz mutters. “You can’t. He couldn’t. J–”

He cuts himself off abruptly, knuckles curled into such tight fists that you almost expect the gloves to tear. Instead, he speaks up again, voice hoarse but controlled. “You may try. The information. Now.”

You tell him what your sister learned, afraid to hold back anything. When you leave the room, Kaz looks unsettled again, eyes wide and haunted. There is something he knows about Pekka Rollins that he will not tell you, something he’s reminded of whenever you speak of your sister.

You see this shadow of his again and again in the coming weeks. Sometimes it lingers for longer. Other times he blinks it away in a flash and he’s back again like nothing ever happened. When one month passes and your deadline comes to save your sister, he actually agrees with a plan to break into Pekka’s office. You weren’t entirely expecting him to accept such terms, but you think there is something compelling him to do this more than mere greed.

Then again, maybe greed is all. When the announcement is delivered to a select group of Dregs that you’ll be breaking into Pekka’s office, Kaz gives no mention of your sister nor her contract. In fact, when you bring it up to him, he just waves his hand and listlessly says that you can do what you please in there so long as you don’t ruin the mission.

At the beginning, maybe this casual dismissal would have stung, but you’ve grown accustomed to Kaz’s varying tempers by now, so you nod and take your leave. He’s standing by his window when your group leaves. You can see his silhouette when you look back, and although he’s too far away for you to see much other than a black shadow against the gold of lantern-light, you can sense the deep furrow of his brow as if he were right there before you.

Kaz is not your concern now, though, the heist is far more important. Still, you can’t help but turn to Inej Ghafa, who was appointed to lead this little expedition, and ask her why Kaz isn’t coming with you. It’s a foray into the stronghold of his enemy, why wouldn’t he be there?

Inej has always been kind to you, and the soft downturn of her frown when she speaks to you emanates calm sympathy. “He doesn’t want to mess with your task,” she says simply, “Not what the rest of us are doing, but how you’re freeing your sister. He says he doesn’t fare well with family disputes, not when Pekka’s around.”

You shake your head. “That makes no sense. Kaz isn’t superstitious. He doesn’t believe in luck, bad or otherwise.”

Inej lifts a shoulder, the movement a ripple of shadow against shadow in the dark of night. “I know. It’s all he’d tell me, though.”

You can feel her eyes on you even after the conversation ends, even after you walk away. So Kaz is afraid to mess with this, then. If you dared to put a finger on it, you think it might– well, it might even have to deal with Jordie.

You’re not entirely sure that Kaz is aware he has spoken the boy’s name aloud. It took him a long time, many long nights and early mornings. He has taken to musing and mumbling when you’re there. On one of those times, you heard a name. Jordie. Between that and his unnatural fixation on your relationship with your sister, you’ve been able to guess at a story. You may not be aware of any other Brekkers in the city, but that does not mean there were never any before you joined the gang.

The air inside Pekka’s headquarters is fraught with peril. Still, your sister’s information is good, and you’re able to find your way to the man’s office without too much trouble. There’s a filing cabinet in the back, full of contracts, and you quickly leaf through them to find your sister’s. You burn it with the very candle on Pekka’s desk, and after thoroughly checking to make sure there are no duplicates, you rejoin the rest of the gang without another word.

Kaz is waiting for you when you come back. The rest of you stole other important documents from Pekka’s office, just as you proposed when you first mentioned your need to liberate your sister, but Kaz quickly shoos everyone out of his office but you.

He sits there, stiff as a corpse, and stares at you. “Did it work?” He asks hollowly, “Did you save her?”

You nod. “The contract was destroyed. She’s safe.”

“The contract may be gone, but there’s no telling of her safety,” Kaz muses, half to himself, “No one is safe, not really. You think you’re alright and then he disappears, and then it’s over.”

You close your eyes for a moment of strength, but when you force them open again, Kaz still has the same weary expression on your face. It’s starting to rub you the wrong way, if it hasn’t since the first day. “My sister is fine, Kaz. I’ll find her work somewhere else. We’ll both be okay.”

Kaz’s eyes flash to you. “How can you promise her safety? You can’t do anything to save her. Not here.”

“I just did,” you argue, “I destroyed the contract. I did it. Pekka’s hold on her is over.”

“And what about the rest of us?” Kaz questions. “Can you find the rest of our contracts, too? Can you act like a Saint and save all of us?”

His tone is bitter, mocking. It cuts you to the bone. “I’m not your Jordie, Kaz. I can’t fix you.”

“I know,” he says, the words gut-wrenching, “I know.”

You stand abruptly. He does nothing to stop you. “I’m still honoring my contract,” you tell him, “I’ll carry on as a Dreg unless you kick me out. But don’t you ever even think about putting my sister in harm’s way. Her days as a spy are over.”

Your rooms seem even smaller than usual that evening, despite the fact that your sister is overjoyed at the thought that her life won’t be at risk anymore. In every one of her smiles, though, you hear Kaz’s warnings rattling in your ears. You can’t protect her. None of us can. Who are you to think otherwise?

You still show up at the Slat. You’re given jobs from down the ladder of command, never from Kaz himself. You haven’t haunted the top floor office in days, then weeks. It is fine, sort of, except for the fact that you do not want it to be just fine, you want– you want him, and that’s not what you expected at all.

A month goes by with no word from him, and then one night you’re out strolling by the harbor, looking over at the relentless surge of the tides, and he materializes from the gloom to stand there beside you.

He doesn’t look at you at first, just stares out at the water. “Your sister is alright.” Not a question, just a statement. You wouldn’t be surprised if he has taken it upon himself to find out that information already.

“Yes,” you answer.

He tilts his head up to stare at the empty sky. “This city has a way of wrecking us. You have enough bad turns and you think they’ll never end. You don’t trust it when someone has something good. I have been waiting for your rescue attempt to be ruined. It hasn’t.”

You nod. “Not all good things are a trap, Kaz.”

“I know,” he says, “I know. I’m sorry.”

You glance over at him in surprise. Dirtyhands doesn’t apologize. Kaz might, though.

Kaz meets your gaze for a second longer, then starts to walk away. “My door is open,” he tells you over his shoulder, then disappears back into the gloom of night once more.

You watch him until he’s long gone, then turn back to the water once more. The Barrel is not a good place to cultivate your dreams. More often than not, you’ll end up drinking poison instead of wine. Tonight, though– tonight, you think it might not be so bad after all.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Narcissist (alpha!readerxOmega!Bakugo soulmate au)

An: this is heavily inspired by the song narcissist by younger hunger definitely recommend listening to it!

An: BIG TY TO MY BETA FOR EDITING THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER OF A FIC WE STAN!

Word count: 3.2k (ur welcome)

Summary: Bakugo being a little shit basically- Mina and Denki r sick of him- reader runs out of scent blockers-

Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, Bakugo being a dick, reader just thinks he’s hot, gets a bit spicy but nothing graphic, non traditional dynamics (subby alphas) drug use (weed)

You were in a familiar room, one you’d come to love since you’d started dreaming of it, and you sat on the bed and waited… any moment now.

“Oi, are you here, shithead?” The voice of your omega was dreamier than it was in real life; his harsh words unable to punctuate the tranquility of your dream.

“I always am, Katsuki!” You chirped, grinning as he slowly faded into existence. The black tank top and jeans he wears make him look far too good, and your brain short-circuited for a few seconds.

“I told you not to fucking call me that!” He growled, but you only laughed. Reaching out to grab his hands before he could stop you, you pull him down so you could kiss him. Any anger he had quickly melted away, and Katsuki had pulled one hand away to rest on your shoulder and pushed back. You got the point, you pulled away for air and leaned back on your elbows as you did. Katsuki followed and straddled you without a moment of hesitation. His mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a hum. With one hand gravitating to tangle in his hair, he gave you another push that had you lying flat on your back.

“Hey-”

“Shut the fuck up, don’t ruin this.” Katsuki bit down on your throat and you squeaked, although he licked over the mark seconds later to soothe it, and only pulled away to kiss you when you tried to talk again. You melted, let your hands wander down to his thighs, and had your thumbs rubbing absent-minded circles. Then, Katsuki was unbuttoning the shirt you had on, hands quickly trailing lower to-

“Y/N! Did you hear what Mr. Aizawa said?” Mina’s voice brought you back from the dream you had the night before, and you blinked at her as you blanked.

“No way I'm working with their dumbass!” Katsuki snarled as Kiri forced him into a seat at your table, and you turned your head to Sero with a questioning look. He usually knew what was going on in class.

“We have a group project for a presentation, Mr. Aizawa picked the groups-”

“Oh hell yeah, all my best bro’s working together? Sounds like fun to me!” Denki leaned over to hug you and Mina, and the pieces started to click together. You were working on an art project, with your mate, who hate-

“How could anything be fun with Y/n around, they fucking ruin everything.” Katsuki grumbled to himself, refusing to meet your eyes despite sitting opposite you. Kiri mouthed an apology to you from his seat next to Katsuki. Honestly, you had no idea why he’d decided to act like… such a brat really, but it was just an act, however annoying it was. The two of you were soulmates, he’d come around, eventually.

“Oh hush, Bakugo, Y/n’s a riot and we all know it! You’re the one who goes to sleep at like, 8pm” Denki came to your aid. The electric blonde then pressed a kiss to your cheek that had Katsuki gritting his teeth.

“So, what's the project, guys?” You flipped through your book to a fresh page, resting your chin on your hand as you waited for the others to speak.

“We have to show the versatility of styles and composition under a singular theme!” Kiri was the one that answered you, and the group immediately started throwing around ideas.

“I think we could do horror, a lot of horror artists have different composition styles and still manage to convey the-”

“Tch, that’s the best you could come up with? I’m not surprised, an alpha as shitty as you can’t be capable of any decent ideas.” Katsuki sneered, but you only smiled at him as the group agreed with your idea. Your omega merely grumbled and hunched over in his seat as the group discussed the different artists you could use as examples.

You’d stayed late to double-check something with a professor, and you were still flipping through your notebook as you walked through the unusually empty halls. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and before you knew it you ran into someone, the same someone who shoved you against a wall seconds later, but your fear subsided when you realised it was just Katsuki.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, dipshit.” Katsuki wasn’t even sure why he’d pushed you up against the wall, but being this close to you, touching you… it was..nice…

“Tch, god your scent is so weak, you smell like a fucking beta, how’d I get stuck with such a runt, huh? Some sick kind of joke.” Katsuki’s tone didn't match what he was saying. The way he leaned forward to rub his cheek over your scent gland definitely said otherwise, but you stayed quiet, he always found some excuse to scent you, but he’d usually get embarrassed and storm off if you dared to say anything.

“You’re pathetic, you know? Being this submissive for an omega, are you sure you’re not a beta? It’d make more sense.” You bit your lip when Bakugo pressed a kiss to your neck, only hesitating a moment before he started sucking a mark onto your skin. His words bounced right off of you because all you could focus on was how hot he was and how he’d subconsciously put his thigh between your legs and thank fuck you were on scent blockers, or you’d never hear the end of it.

“Really, you aren’t even going to try and defend yourself? You’re even weaker than I thought.” A growl next to your ear made you shiver, and Katsuki pushed away with a snarl when he was satisfied. He cursed at you again and warned you ‘not to tell anyone or he’d kick your ass’ (he wouldn’t) before he walked away, leaving you to walk home with your head completely in the clouds.

“What took you so fucking long, huh idiot?” Katsuki was on you the second you appeared in the dream, pulling you down into a rather ferocious kiss before you could say anything. He bit your lip when you didn’t open your mouth fast enough, swallowing any protests you would have made, and continued to kiss you until you were dizzy. “I’ve been waiting two hours…” He pulled away to kiss under your jaw, and if you didn’t know him so well you’d miss the insecure tone in his voice.

“Sorry, Midoriya wanted-” You stopped when Katsuki growled, biting down so hard you were surprised he didn't draw blood.

“Why the fuck are you saying his name here, huh? Are you tryna piss me off?” He pulled away to sneer at you. You opened your mouth to explain, but the words died in your throat when he unzipped your hoodie, and any coherent thought you had went out the window when he started to kiss your neck.

Everything was ready. The lounge room was set up, complete with snacks, drinks, and stationery for you and your friends to work on the project. They were meant to be here any second, and you couldn’t help but hover near the door to your apartment. You weren’t used to having people over and it still put you on edge having others in your space. But that thought left your head when a knock sounded on your door. You quickly opened it and were almost knocked over by Denki and Mina engulfing you in a hug.

“Thanks so much for hosting bro!”

“Awww you laid out all these snacks and stuff too! An omega’s gonna be really lucky to have you one day Y/n!” They pushed inside. Denki closed the door as Mina oohed and aahed over the setup, their praise had a slight blush rising to your face as you sheepishly rubbed your neck. Sero was next, quickly hugging you before he joined Denki and Mina, then Katsuki and Kirishima last. The blonde pushed past you without saying hello, but Kiri pulled you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe for a second, and was complimenting the setup as you took a seat. You tried to sit next to Mina, but Denki let out a whine and the pair was pulling you down between them before you had time to protest. Denki immediately leaned on you once you were settled. Katsuki couldn’t focus on the project, how could he, when his two dipshit friends were all over his mate. And you weren’t even doing anything to stop them! In fact, you were leaning into their hugs and giggling at every stupid joke they made! It had Katsuki fuming. Kirishima was the only one close enough to smell the angry shift in his scent, and he glanced between his friend and you, slowly putting the pieces together. You really had no idea what was happening, but Denki’s head was on your shoulder, and Mina’s arm around your waist as she asked questions about the project, giggling and pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever you got confused, which happened more than you’d like to admit. The blonde gritted his teeth when Mina’s hand went to your thigh, you were his! Nobody else should ever be touching you like that! You should know better! So when you excused yourself to grab something from your room, of course he made up some excuse about needing the bathroom so he could follow you.

The door to your room closed with a click, and you quickly spun around, expecting to see Mina or Denki, anyone except Katsuki to be honest.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was seeing red at this point. He cornered you and made you stumble back until your waist hit your desk.

“Uh- getting more pens-?” You held out the pack of pens with a confused look on your face that only made Katsuki angrier. How were you so stupid? And so fucking cute when you were- he cut off that thought, he needed to focus on yelling at you. Not the way your brows furrowed and how you nervously bite your lip as you waited for him to say something. Wait- were you blushing? Fuck, maybe he should-

“Katsuki? Are you oka-“

“Shut the fuck up, dipshit.” He snarled. Then, catching you both off guard, he leaned forward and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately. He’d only kissed you in your dreams, which was nothing compared to this, and you hesitantly placed your hands on his waist. His hands went to your hair to pull you closer, tugging it until you got the message and parted your lips for him. Katsuki let out a hum of approval as he deepened the kiss, why hadn’t he done this sooner? You couldn’t focus on anything other than how much Katsuki tasted like caramel, he didn’t taste like caramel in the dreams. You couldn’t help but whine when he pulled back. Another insistent tug on your hair had you tilting your head back, and Katsuki didn’t waste any time kissing over your neck. You were so lost in the feeling you almost missed the words he growled against your skin.

“You should know better, you’re mine. Other people shouldn’t be fucking touching you like that.”

“Do you think they’re like…. Finally-” Mina made a hand gesture that had Denki cackling, even Kiri cracked a smile.

“I hope so, it’s getting hard to watch all the back and forth.” Sero sighed, dropped his pen, and stretched.

“Yeah, have you seen how mad Bakubro gets though? It’s pretty fun to push his buttons like this!” Denki grinned as he leaned his head on Mina’s shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“I don’t know… Bakugo’s uh… stubborn, to put it nicely.”

“Your scent is weird… are you wearing a different perfume?” Mina leaned her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as you glanced at Katsuki. After whatever the fuck had happened in your room, he’d gone back to acting like he hated you, so, you’d kept letting Denki and Mina do whatever they wanted. He had his eyes fixated on the work, and you turned back to Mina with a smile.

“Oh, sorry about that! I forgot to refill my scent blockers and my doctor’s not available until next week.”

“Don’t be sorry, bro! It’s nice, like really, really nice!” Denki came up behind you, throwing a quick glance at Katsuki before he leaned forward, crooning and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland, Mina doing the same a moment later. The pen Katsuki was holding snapped, his angry scent pumping out in waves as he glared daggers into the book in front of him, all too aware of you laughing.

You were hyper-aware of how strong your scent was, this was the longest you’d gone without scent blockers since you’d presented, and you’d lit a scented candle to try and cover it up. It hadn’t really worked, maybe you should light some incense-

“Y/n! Sorry we’re early!” Mina’s hand on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before you smiled. Denki cut you off before you could apologize about your scent.

“Damn Y/n! It smells like you baked cookies- oh my god did you bake-”

“Don’t be stupid, babe, it’s just their scent.” Mina shoved him inside, shaking her head as she followed and closed the door behind her.

“Oh! Of course!” Denki nodded, and he and Mina linked arms with you. They walked you over to the couch and sat you all down with grins on their faces.

“Uh… guys-?” You didn’t trust that look, it never leads to anything good.

“Well, since the project is like, 99.5% done-” Mina started, hand coming up to play with your hair.

“We thought we deserved a reward!” Denki interrupted, reaching into his bag and producing a blunt. You felt your own grin forming.

“Oh my god- is that from-”

“Shinso! You know he sells the best stuff on campus, I decided to splurge for my bros!” Denki looked incredibly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but tackle the blonde in a hug.

“Oh my god Denki, you’re the best!”

The three of you were blazed by the time the others got there. Sero happily bounced over to share the blunt, while Katsuki and Kiri just sighed and sat down with you. Katsuki’s eyes instantly zoned in on where you were lying on Mina and Denki on the couch. He was oddly silent as he tried to keep his cool, the nagging thoughts that had always been there slowly got stronger. He’d always had to be strong, people perceived him as weak just because of his dynamic, so he’d rejected the thought of being with an alpha, hoping for a beta or omega. Or you. You never made a big deal out of your dynamic, and always treated him as an equal. Then the dreams started. He loved you, he really did! But his whole reputation would go down the drain if he was claimed by an alpha, especially one with such a weak scent and mild presence. So…. he pretended to hate you in public because the two of you had your dreams, where nobody could judge him! Even if they did pale in comparison to real life. But lately… he couldn’t stop wondering… were you getting tired of waiting? With the way you were acting… the thought made his stomach turn and his canines come out. Especially since you had run out of blockers. Your scent getting stronger and stronger as the days went by. You were his alpha! You shouldn’t be scenting other people! Especially omegas! And you certainly shouldn’t be laying on them while you were ignoring him! You hadn’t even said hello to him! You were too busy getting high with those assholes like you didn't belong to him! You were his, it wasn’t fair!

Mina was the last out of the apartment. She kissed your cheek and winked at you as the door closed. The exhaustion set in as you leaned against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Katsuki growled and made you startled when you saw him by the table. You only shrugged as you went to pack up the stuff on the couch.

“Denki got us some weed because the project was done-”

“Not that, dickhead! They were all over you!” He marched over to you, trying to ignore how good you smelled up close.

“And? We’re not-” You responded, and Katsuki was shoving you before he realized, ignoring the way you yelped as you fell on the couch. You sprawled on your back and glaring up at him.

“Katsuki! What the fuck!” Katsuki didn’t reply, eyes traveling over your vulnerable form. Flush rose to his face as he realized how provocative the position was, causing warmth to pool in his tummy. If kissing was so much better in reality, what would it be like to be inside you? Feel you clench around him and pull his hair when he hit your sweet spot? Would your thighs shake the same in real life when he just kept going? The omega didn’t even realize his scent had changed, he just licked his lips and stared at you with hooded eyes, fuck he wanted-

“Are you okay? You zoned out.” Fuck, when had you gotten up? You were so close now, your scent overwhelming. He never wanted you to go on blockers again.

“Fuck, Katsuki! Katsuki! Are you in heat?” It finally dawned on you. Katsuki’s scent had taken on a sweeter tone it didn’t usually have, and with the way he kept zoning out, it was obvious. Plus thoughts of him on top of you that wouldn’t leave your brain alone. Your question snapped him out of his daze, and the omega snarled at you, stepping back and stumbling when a jolt of pain went through him.

“Fuck off, like you could trigger-” His voice cut off as another wave of pain went through him, causing you to reached out to steady him without thinking. The omega was going to let out a growl but it quickly changed to a whine as it escaped his mouth. You pulled your hand back like it had burned, although your mate’s temperature was so high it wasn’t out of the question. You took two steps back and froze when a feral snarl ripped through the room, dark red eyes pinning you in your place.

“He-hey Katsuki…” Your voice stopped his growling, and it took every ounce of self-control you had to stay coherent as he advanced, your rut already trying to cloud your judgment. Your eyes darted around the room, maybe you could make it to the bathroom? Then Katsuki could ride out his heat and you could talk about it? yeah. Katsuki was only a foot away from you now, the grin he had on was somehow more unsettling than the snarl, and you shook your head to get some of your resolve back. Okay, three, two, one-

You made it maybe ten centimeters before Katuski caught you, and pushed you back down on the couch. He wasted no time sitting on your lap and tilting your face up to look into his eyes.

“You’re not getting away from me, Alpha. I know you want this. I should have done this months ago.” Sincerity shone through your omega’s lidded eyes, and you felt your small shred of resolve shrink away even more. Your hands flew to his chest to push him away.

“Ka-Katsuki it’s just- just your heat, you don’t mean-“

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, alpha.” Katsuki was back to growling at you. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinned them down, and used his knees to keep them in place. He went back to cupping your face, red eyes boring into yours as he thought of what to say and a growl leaving him whenever you dared to look away. You were so, so obnoxiously pretty, it made it even harder to focus. Katsuki kept getting distracted by little details, like how your eyes shone and you kept biting your lip.

“You’re so fuckin stupid, ya know that? Of course, I fuckin want you, you’re my alpha- I don’t… I don’t care what other people think anymore, I just want you.” Katsuki’s tone was softer than you expected, and you could only gape at him as a blush quickly rose to your face. You knew he didn’t hate you, but hearing him say that lifted a weight off your shoulders you’d been carrying for who knows how long. The moment passed, all the softness went away as Katsuki leaned down to kiss you, and this time you kissed him back without any reservations.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Words, Words, Words

Prompt: Hey, prompt idea! I would love some roman angst where after POF he stops talking and the other assume that he's mad at them when in reality he is unable to speak. As a selective mute myself, I would love to read a fic like this! - anon

it's been a while since I've posted fresh Roman angst and WOW did this jump out at me and go hey do you wanna project really really hard onto a character? 

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Roman is nonverbal for a lot of this story and some of the things he does when he’s upset by that are self-destructive, nothing explicit

Pairings: the found family kick aint stopping

Word Count: 4128

He didn’t do it on purpose. He swears, he—he didn’t do it on purpose.

  He just couldn’t talk.

It—it hurt, of…of course, it hurt to—to see the fallout of his bad decision explode with such…disastrous consequences. It hurt to see Patton so upset and confused because everyone was expecting him to have answers that he didn’t and—and Roman will take the blame for that, that’s his fault. And it hurt to see Logan so upset even when he was just there in his lowdowns and he—he didn’t have to be so cruel to Logan, that’s his fault too. And it—

  …it hurt to see that he really is just as awful as Remus, even if J—

  No. It doesn’t matter.

  Roman messed up. Really, really bad. And he’ll take the blame for that, he will, he—he knows he hasn’t been the best at accepting the blame in the past, but…he’ll take this one.

  But he didn’t do this on purpose.

  Roman doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s Creativity, or whether he’s the Ego, or what, but sometimes he just…can’t speak. Sometimes his words machine will just…stop working and he won’t be able to speak. He can normally still write or text, and he can understand when others talk, he just can’t say anything.

  The others don’t know, at least he’s never told them. He doesn’t want to be a bother—or have them start to make fun of him when he can’t defend himself—so he normally makes his writing days the ones where he can’t speak out loud. It’s a good way to make sure no one’s worried about why he’s shut up in his room all day or why he’s not speaking much at dinner. Plus, what kind of a prince would he be if he couldn’t talk?

  Don’t worry, he knows he’s not a prince.

  But the others like Prince Roman. Or rather, they like the narrative function that Prince Roman fulfills. So he does his best to make sure they…get that.

  But he didn’t mean for it to happen, not like this.

  He…he knows he messed up after the wedding. He sunk out and made it to his room and fell to his knees, hurt from everything and then some. The bruises hadn’t shown through his costume or gotten too far down his sleeves, but he—he still felt them. He tried to get up and make it to the shower to just wash off the day—the week—the month but getting his arms up to peel away the costume left him panting and he just wanted to curl up and sleep until everything stopped hurting.

  He managed to get himself into the shower and felt his tongue become lead in his mouth.

  He cleared his throat to try and make a noise but all that escaped was a soft rush of air.

  It…hurt.

  It wasn’t gone by morning. Most of the time he can sleep it off or—or if he just gives it some time he’ll—he’ll be fine but it wasn’t gone. His tongue lay there, useless, and he couldn’t say a word.

  That was okay, though, he could—he could make this a writing day. He wouldn’t dare touch anything he wanted to make for Thomas, his hands would shake too much and he—he doesn’t know what Thomas wants anymore so he wouldn’t get it right even if he could try.

  No, no, he could…he could write things for him today.

  Not as a reward for his atrocious behavior, not anything that would be read by anyone else or be useful in any way, but just to…to get some of the worst bits of him out so he wasn’t absolutely abominable when the others wanted him again. Yes, today he could…write.

  ‘Writing,’ what an interesting word for being willing to sit and bleed for others to see.

  Roman’s words don’t so much as pour out of him as much as he sets his fingers on his keys and then can’t control his typing. He just—it hurt and he knows that no one else would want to hear about his hurt so he pours them out into the blank spaces in the white page and tries to imagine that maybe, maybe, someone would read them and see how badly it hurt and pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay.

  If maybe, if he wrote a story good enough, if he made it hurt enough, someone would care.

  He sits there and pours into the blank document until it’s panting and weary from the torrent of words, until his hands ache and the tips of his fingers are worn warm and raw from the click-click-click of the keys. Until the hurt he feels gathers up into a small, dark well just under his tongue, right in the bottom of his jaw, itching and screaming to get out. It leaks out down his arms, making the inside of his wrists tingle as he types.

  No one will read this, no one will see it. These words won’t see the light of day anytime soon.

  And Roman’s tongue is still made of lead.

  He takes his words and lets them tumble clumsily out of his hands, trying in vain to scoop them up and shove them out of his mouth instead but his tongue won’t cooperate. He knows he can’t talk, that he can’t force it, that trying to make it happen will only lead to more pain.

  But he wants to try.

  When his words aren’t back by the next day, he swallows what’s left of his pride, which isn’t much, and goes out to face the others.

  He finds Patton first. Patton doesn’t acknowledge him, so he sits politely down on the couch with a notebook and waits, trying to see if his words will come out through the pen instead of his tongue. But Patton doesn’t talk to him unless he’s asking if Roman wants a drink and well, Roman doesn’t—doesn’t need words for that.

  Patton looks so disappointed in him.

  He wants to try. He wants to open his mouth and tell Patton he’s sorry. Sorry for everything. He wants to. He wants to.

  He opens his mouth and his tongue deflates, useless, just enough for him to sigh and hunch his shoulders in defeat.

  He doesn’t want to disappoint Patton, he wasn’t trying to disappoint Patton, he wants to apologize and be better, but he can’t.

  Perhaps that is the true disappointment.

  Logan is next to appear because Logan is Logan and Roman loves him and Logan always gets his cup of coffee in the morning before breakfast. He walks down the stairs and also does not look at Roman which is fine because that is what Roman deserves but he wants to try.

  He opens his mouth to call out to Logan or Patton but his tongue is so heavy and he can’t. He can’t speak. He should be able to speak, he should be able to say something to Logan, he should be able to tell him how sorry he is but he can’t and he’s useless.

  His pen stands frozen on the notebook pages, leaving a big, dark, useless well of ink.

  Logan sits down on the couch with a book and his coffee. He doesn’t look up at Roman. Roman stares at him, pleading, hoping that Logan will look up and meet his gaze, and maybe, just maybe, he can see how sorry Roman is and it will—something will be better.

  “Don’t stare at me, Roman, it’s rude.”

  Roman’s cheeks burn as he looks away. Logan didn’t move his eyes from the book once.

  He picks up the pen and watches it drip onto the page. The pages are wet, now, so much so that when he tries to pull them apart they stick together, the lines threatening to tear as he tries to separate them.

  He leaves them be.

  The next few hours are spent in a loop of trying to open his mouth to say something and only a soft rush of air escaping. He tries to hold it behind his hand and say please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so awful, I’ll be better, I promise, but the words won’t come. His tongue is taunting him, he decides, by pressing insistently up against the back of his teeth until he has to open his mouth only for it to refuse to produce words.

  He wants Logan to explain to him that talking works for him too. That the vocal chords and the muscles of the throat moving together build up pressure behind the larynx, which then chops up the stream of air to produce a steady oscillation for a sustained sound. He wants Logan to say it in that voice of his that makes it so everything makes sense so of course, Roman, you can speak, it’s okay. Everything is okay.

  But Logan would never say that, not to Roman, because Roman’s words aren’t worth Logan’s time.

  When Virgil comes downstairs, he tries. He really tries. He opens his mouth and everything and takes a deep breath and—

  Virgil marches straight over to Logan and sits down, his head on Logan’s shoulder and the two of them could not be paying any less attention to Roman.

  The wind gets knocked out of him. His mouth falters closed. He tries to open it away but his jaws are stiff and gummy, his teeth aching in his mouth as he tries to just talk. He just wants to say something, he just wants to apologize, he just waits to be sorry and have them all know he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but they won’t know because he doesn’t have words.

  The words he wants to say are queuing up at the back of his throat, weighing his mouth down and he wants to say them, but he—he—he can’t. He wants to tell Virgil that he’s sorry he’s been the worst friend ever, that he’s sorry he’s so awful to their famILY, that he’ll go away and leave them all alone if that’s what they want but he can’t say a damn word of it out loud and he’s going to cry.

  But he can’t because crying isn’t words and the only thing the others want from him is words.

  If Virgil notices him trying, which he probably doesn’t, he’s kind enough not to say anything.

  Roman is terrified when Remus comes.

  Because Remus is loud and loves nothing more than to make Roman’s life harder. If Remus knew he was nonverbal right now, his best bet would be to leave as quickly as possible because he—

  Wait, no.

  If Roman wanted it to be best for him, he would leave as fast as possible. But Roman doesn’t know anything anymore so he doesn’t move.

  Remus, as it turns out, doesn’t care about Roman—which, why would he?—and instead flops proudly onto the floor and begins to talk animatedly with Logan about something.

  Roman wants to say sorry. Sorry that he’s never done anything right when it comes to Remus, sorry that he thinks being compared to him is the worst thing possible, sorry that he’s Roman and Remus is stuck with him.

  But his tongue is lifeless.

  So he is quiet, flipping aimlessly through his notebook, looking for something to give his words back.

  Was he selfish yesterday? Did he use all of them up on something no one would ever see? No, no, that’s not how it works, he just—he knows he should be able to talk, maybe if he just waits a little longer, his words will come back.

  But then Janus appears.

  And Roman needs to be able to talk now.

  Because he needs to tell Janus that he’s sorry. That he messed everything up and he’s awful and he knows it and he’s so, so, so sorry. And he needs to know that it isn’t a lie, that Roman is genuinely sorry and he just needs to speak, if he could just open his mouth and say something and say that he’s sorry and—and—

  Janus stops and looks right at him.

  Roman’s breath catches in his throat.

  Janus’s eyes narrow.

  Please, please, I’m sorry, let me say I’m sorry, I can’t speak, I want to speak, let me speak—

  Janus’s face cools into stone and he deliberately turns away.

  Roman wants to scream.

  He scrambles away from the living room and his hands fly to his hair, squeezing, pulling, trying to rip the sound from his throat because it won’t come otherwise. Trying to reach deep inside and find something, some word, some sound, some thing just to make it so he can talk, say he’s sorry, say anything.

  The computer screen blinks mockingly at him. Come on, it taunts, where was this agony when you were pouring your words out onto me yesterday? Why do you ache so badly now when you know you can’t do anything about it? Is it worth it?

  Nothing will ever be worth this. To have them there, right in front of him, and not be able to tell them how sorry he is.

  A silent scream is the best he can do.

  It doesn’t stop. His tongue doesn’t flicker back to life. Even after two days, three days, four, he still can’t manage to speak. He can’t manage to open his mouth and make a single word come out. He tries. He sits down in front of the computer and glares at the screen, forcing his mouth to make the shapes and forcing his vocal chords to make the sounds.

  He never gets further than a single word.

  He rushes, slurs, cheats in any way he can, and doesn’t even manage to get to the end of a sentence.

  He’s panting, in tears, trying, trying, trying so hard to say something, anything, because if he can say one thing, he can say more, and if he can say more, he can tell them how sorry he is.

  Roman would gladly give up all the words he doesn’t have to be able to say ‘sorry’ again.

  (Logan, downstairs, glances up from his book.

  Virgil is sprawled next to him on the couch, his head resting against Logan’s thigh. Patton is sitting on the other end, Virgil’s legs in his lap as he talks to Janus. Janus sits in the chair, his own book forgotten on his lap. Well, almost forgotten as he tugs it out of Remus’s grasp as he makes…something on the floor.

  “It’s been quiet recently,” he remarks to himself, “almost…peaceful.”

  Virgil shifts. “Yeah, I know. I kinda like it.”

  “So do I.” He glances down and, after a moment of hesitation, slides his hand into Virgil’s hair. “Is this alright?”

  “Yeah, L, that’s fine.”

  “Aww, you two are cute.” Patton grins at them. “It’s been nice lately, hasn’t it?”

  “Mm.” Janus tugs the book out of Remus’s reach again. “Remus, I certainly understand what you want with my book.”

  “Art, Janny.”

  Janus rolls his eyes fondly but his gaze softens as he takes in the room. It has been quiet. A good kind of quiet.

  He doesn’t know it didn’t happen on purpose.

  That Roman isn’t being quiet on purpose.

  He didn’t do it on purpose.

  Because when has anything Roman’s done on purpose been right?)

——————————————

Thomas sighs, his hands on his hips, as Patton and Logan begin to bicker for the third time in the past ten minutes. Across from him, Virgil is fidgeting uncomfortably as his gaze flicks back and forth between Janus and Thomas.

  “Guys, are you really not going to do anything about this?”

  “Oh, yes, because that’s how we solve every problem, just make me deal with it.”

  “Okay, first of all, I said you guys meaning you and Thomas, second—“

  “Oh, here we go, another lecture, oh goodie.”

  “That is not what I’m doing—“

  And now Virgil and Janus are fighting too. Thomas resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Barely. Just barely. He shakes his head. The Sides aren’t normally this hard to manage, typically it’s just a matter of everyone actually understanding what’s going on and then one of them will propose a solution and they’ll all wrangle it around from angle to angle until he finally gets a workable one.

  Not this time.

  He’s not sure why nothing’s working, but everything that’s been proposed just sounds like another problem, not a solution. Why coming up with ideas is so hard today, he doesn’t—

  Wait.

  Has…has Roman said anything today?

  Thomas glances at Roman. Roman stands where he always does, watching the others with a strangely blank look on his face. Thomas frowns. Roman…Roman doesn’t look great. He looks paler than usual, his face is a little poofy.

  “Roman?”

  Roman looks at him, his brow quirked.

  “Do you…have any ideas?”

  Roman’s face falls and he swallows. Thomas’s frown deepens when Roman shakes his head sadly.

  “Hey, wait,” Virgil says, turning to face him, “Thomas is right. You haven’t said anything all meeting.”

  “You have been remarkably quiet. Especially for you.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “Have you not come up with a single idea?”

  “Okay, guys, wait—“ Thomas tries.

  “No wonder we aren’t making any progress,” Virgil cries, throwing up his hands, “it’s because the guy whose job it is to come up with ideas isn’t doing anything!”

  “That…would explain it.”

  “Come on, kiddo,” Patton says, looking at Roman, “you must have something.”

  Roman just shakes his head again.

  “Of course he doesn’t want to share it with us,” Virgil growls, “he’s probably waiting for us to figure it out for him because he’s still mad.”

  Patton sighs, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. Even Thomas wants to flush from the disappointment in his voice. “I understand being mad at us, kiddo—I’m not happy about it, but I understand it—but taking it out on Thomas? That’s really selfish of you.”

  Roman flinches, his hand going to his chest. Janus rolls his eyes.

  “Oh, Roman doesn’t know what that word means, remember? He’s all about selflessness, not selfishness, no, not a single selfish bone in his body, Roman.”

  Virgil snorts.

  “I am also disappointed,” Logan sighs, “but not surprised. But seriously, Roman, I think this temper tantrum of yours has gone on long enough.”

  “Watch out, he’s gonna say it’s not a temper tantrum.”

  Is…is this how they are to Roman all the time? Thomas stares at the other Sides in confusion. Has he just never noticed how mean they are to each other before? Or is this…new? He looks back at Roman and opens his mouth to say something when he notices Roman’s hand is still on his chest.

  And…moving.

  His thumb is tucked against the top of his fist and Thomas watches as it circles once, twice, and stops. Once, twice, and stops.

  “Roman,” he says softly, cutting through the growing voices of the others, “Roman, why are you sorry?”

  “What?”

  “Thomas, what’re you—“

  “That—this—“ Thomas makes the sign himself—“that’s the ASL for ‘sorry.’ Remember?”

  Logan looks back at Roman who does it again. “So it is. But—Roman, why are you communicating using ASL, which none of us are fluent in? Most of us aren’t fluent in, my apologies, Janus—“ Janus waves him off— “why not just say that you’re sorry?”

  “Roman,” Thomas asks, still quiet, “can you speak?”

  They all watch in silence as Roman slowly shakes his head.

  “What do you mean you can’t speak?”

  “Probably just that, Virgil.” Logan adjusts his glasses.

  Thomas spares him a glance before refocusing on Roman. “Are you okay, buddy?”

  Roman looks at the ground. Virgil watches him for a moment before leaning to Logan.

  “I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no.’”

  “How long has this been happening?”

  “Yes or no questions, guys,” Thomas reminds, “and…not too many.”

  “Right.” Logan takes a breath and when he speaks again, Thomas furrows his brow at how much softer Logan sounds. “Roman, has this been happening since the beginning of the meeting?”

  Roman nods.

  “Has it been happening for longer?”

  Another nod.

  “How long,” Virgil asks warily, only for Logan to hiss ‘yes or no’ in his ear, “right, um…has it been happening for longer than a day?”

  Roman nods, studiously avoiding eye contact. Janus bites back a curse.

  “Roman, have you not been able to speak since the wedding?”

  When Roman nods again, Thomas has to bite back a curse of his own. Virgil doesn’t.

  “Fuck, Princey, why didn’t you tell one of us?”

  “With what words,” Janus spits, “and who’s to say we would’ve believed him?”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs, reaching for him, “I’m so sorry.”

  At this, Roman shakes his head furiously.

  “Hey, hey, easy, Princey, it’s okay, what was that for?”

  “He seemed to really dislike the idea of Patton apologizing…”

  “What were you apologizing for, Roman,” Thomas asks instead, “before we—before?”

  Roman nods.

  “Yeah, bud, you were apologizing, do you remember what for?”

  A nod.

  “He’s saying ‘yes,’” Virgil murmurs.

  “Yeah, we got that.”

  “No, I mean—“ Virgil sighs— “you asked him what he was apologizing for and he’s saying ‘yes.’ That means anything you could ask him if he’s apologizing for, he’d say yes.”

  “So…” Logan looks back and forth between them. “He’s apologizing for…everything?”

  “Yeah.”

  And Roman nods.

“Oh, sweetie,” Janus says softly and whoa, that’s…unexpected, “you don’t need to do that.”

  Roman’s mouth hardens stubbornly as if to say yes I do.

  “You can’t be blamed for not being able to speak, Roman,” Logan says gently, “it’s not your fault.”

  “Kiddo,” Patton calls when Roman still looks unsure, “are you mad at us?”

  Roman’s head snaps up and he shakes his head frantically. Patton holds out his arms to soothe him.

  “And we’re not mad at you, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Let’s call it here,” Thomas says, giving Roman a nod, “we can figure this out later.”

  “What do you need, Roman,” Virgil asks, “how can we help?”

  “That’s…definitely not a yes or no question.”

  Thomas frowns. Then he reaches out a hand.

  “Hey!” Remus pops up, manic grin and all. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”

  “I do not think bacon shakes, Remus.”

  “Sir Francis Bacon?”

  “What?”

  “You two gotta stop watching Phineas and Ferb,” Virgil mutters.

  Remus just grins and turns, freezing when he sees Roman. Thomas blinks and Remus’s entire demeanor changes.

  “Ro-Bro? Roro, you okay?”

  Roman looks up at him. Remus lays a hand on his shoulder.

  “You nonverbal?”

  Roman nods. Remus wraps his arms around Roman’s waist.

  “I’m taking this,” he announces, “bye!”

  Thomas chuckles as Remus sinks out, Roman in tow, even as Patton and Virgil rush after them going ‘let us help!’ Logan just rolls his eyes fondly and follows them. Thomas catches hold of Janus’s cloak before he can leave too.

  “Are you guys always like that to Roman?”

  Janus gives him a strange look. “You mean are you always like that to Roman?”

  “What?”

  “We’re you, Thomas,” Janus says bluntly, “we’re the physical manifestation of what goes on in your head. Or have you forgotten that your main way of problem-solving is to summon metaphysical color-coded versions of yourself and talk to them?”

  “Your point?”

  “The way we act is how you see us. We behave how our respective parts of you behave.” Janus gives him a look. “If you think we’re being mean to Roman, what does that say about how you feel about your Ego or your Creativity?”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

  “Take better care of yourself,” Janus says, softer now, “and it might surprise you.”

  “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “I think,” Janus says, looking far too smug as he pulls away, “you mean that you can’t help yourself.”

  Thomas scoffs as Janus disappears but after a few seconds, his words start to make sense. He turns to grab his laptop and opens it, finding a blank document and watching the cursor blink.

  The others might not be able to listen to Roman, but he always can.

  “Alright,” he mutters to himself, “let’s see what Roman’s got to say.”

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[ptergwen]

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

-

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i��ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

[clairecrive]

Hello beautiful person! Do you take requests which ask you to write a second chapter for your writings? If you do, may I ask a second chapter for "Rare"? And if you don't could you please let me know so I can be careful for another time when I ask a request?

I hope this is not something that disturbes or irritates you. I love your writing, it is beautiful and sometimes I read your pieces over and over again. 😁

Thanks for blessing us with your writing. Have a nice day.💕

A/n: First of all anon, thank you so very much for your sweet words! They mean the world to me <3 Also, your request could never irritate me! I love them and I love the fact that you consider me half a decent writer enough to send me your thoughts <3 I'm sorry it took me so long to get around this but I hope you like this and are still around to read it x

I've decided to pair it with a request for juicy time with Eddie. there's no actual smut but it's suggestive let's say.

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff,

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @for-bebbanburg, @crazyclownchick ( fill in this form to be added to my taglist)

Part 1

TOM HARDY MASTERLIST

You weren't exactly new to heartbreak. You had been a teenager after all but your experience with adult relationships had not been that good either.

You knew that you'd be over Eddie even if it may take you some time. It's true that you had only been dating for a few months but you had really grown attached to him. It was one of the things you hated about yourself: the way you got attached way too soon, way too much.

Especially, in this case, seeing as Eddie hadn't been 100% in it in the beginning you had hoped that the more time you'd spend together, he'd see that you weren't so bad and that he'd grow to care for you. At least a little bit.

Turns out you were wrong.

As much as you hated being wrong, the thing that hurt you the most was that despite your best efforts, Eddie still didn't think you were enough for him. And how could you be when the benchmark was perfect Anne?

You stood no chance. You had been a fool for even trying. And now you were experiencing the burn for your foolishness.

This had happened often enough that you had developed a routine for dealing with heartbreak:

1) crying your heart out and indulging your sadness with whatever helped (mostly comfort food and Friends)

2) enough with indulging, it was time to pick yourself up. No more overeating although you still allowed yourself to cry if you felt like it

3) "I don't need him anyway" phase where you'd make a mental list of how your life was before and after whoever you had broken up with to remind you that they weren't as important as you made them out to be

4)"put yourself out there again" phase where you started going out again with the intention of meeting new people or simply having a good time.

As of this time, you were in phase 3. You noticed that there were some of Eddie's things littering around your apartment. So, you picked up a box and collected them with the intention of returning them to him, effectively closing this chapter. As you did, you made that aforementioned list. This time, with the added reason for your break up, it was a bit easier to remind you why breaking up had been the right decision.

When your hands closed on your favourite hoodie of his though, you couldn't help the pang in your heart as a flood of memories hit you.

You and Eddie doing a Friends marathon every Friday night.

Eddie giving this hoodie when you were sick because he knew how much you liked it.

Eddie taking the hoodie off for a whole other reason almost ripping it...

No.

Shaking your head, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Enough of that. It was over.

It was only a week later that you finally got the time to come around Eddie's apartment. Sure, you could have called him, he could have come himself to pick them up or you could have dropped them at his job but that would have required you to call him. And recalling how that went last time you tried to reach him you decided you'd spare yourself the humiliation of him not ghosting you again.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and knocked on his door.

"Y/n." You were met with a dishevelled Eddie.

He looked like shit but what's new with him. He also looked very surprised to see you at his door and you also couldn't blame it for that. You would have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.

"Hi, Eddie," you hated your treacherous voice that wobbled when you spoke. Clearing your voice, you tried again.

"Sorry to come here unannounced. I've found some of your stuff in my apartment and I thought you'd like to have them back." You explained as you handed him the box, his eyes taking it in for the first time.

"Oh," he paused as he considered your words. Was that disappointment in his voice? "Thank you, y/n. You shouldn't have." He smiled weakly as he took the box from you, your fingers touching briefly.

"It's not a problem, Eddie. I was just passing by anyway." You and Eddie actually lived far from each other. The truth is that there was no reason for you to be in this part of town if it wasn't for him. Eddie knew that but he was kind enough not to point that out.

He just nodded, accepting your words as he held the box close to his chest.

You awkwardly stared at each other for a while, you didn't know what to say but neither of you wanted to end this exchange quite yet. When you felt that you had been standing like a fool in front of your ex's door, you went to leave but Eddie beat you to it.

"So how have you been?" Your first reaction was to scoff at this attempt of small talk. Neither of you was very good at it. And truthfully, it was rich coming from someone who had not made any effort to keep in contact with you even before your breakup.

The scroll of your shoulders was the only answer Eddie got. You weren't in the mood to pretend nor did you want him to know how you were still suffering for him.

"I should ask that to you." You reverted the question to him. He really didn't look well.

"yeah, it's been a rough couple of weeks," he confessed scratching the back of his head.

"That, I don't find it hard to believe," you hummed as your eyes took him in, really took him in since you knocked at his door. You could also see behind him that his apartment was a mess.

"Yeah, don't have to worry about me though. I'm fine."

"Of course." You nodded at his dismissal, remembering harshly the situation you were in."Well, I'm going to go now. Take care." Cold but still polite you turn around, ready to put this -Eddie and this exchange- behind you.

"Y/n, wait!" he called when you were about to climb down the staircase. "Do you want to have a drink or something?" Stay for a while? he meant but didn't dare to say.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Eddie." You called over your shoulder, hand still on the railing.

"Please, I owe you an explanation." You didn't know if it was the desperate note in his voice or the fact that he really looked like shit but you turned around almost convinced.

"Don't you think it's too late for that, Eddie?"

"Maybe it won't change anything between us but you deserve to know." You knew Eddie and you knew how much he cared about transparency and honesty. This may not mean that you were going to get back together but he was right, you deserved an explanation.

"Okay," you agreed as you walked back and then into his apartment. Eddie closed the door behind him and set the box he was still holding down behind the coat hanger.

The sneak peek you had before was definitely right: Eddie's apartment was even messier than usual.

"Why does it look like a tornado hit your home?" You couldnìt help but point out. You knew Eddie wasn't that bothered by tidiness but this too much even by his standards.

"That would be my fault," a new voice answered you.

At first, you didn't register the difference in tone or accent even though you should have had because Eddieìs voice wasnìt that low or raspy. But then a black tendril entered your vision field catching your attention making you turning your head to better inspect it.

What.the.fuck??

"Eddie?" You asked perplexed, eyes fixed on this thing? even if you were addressing Eddie.

"Y/n meet Venom, Venom meet y/n." He gestured awkwardly with his hands.

"It's so nice to meet you, Eddie's always thinking about you, you know? It's a bit annoying." this time the voice didn't come from a tendril but a face. A fucking alien face with long sharp teeth and wide white eyes.

His words went straight over your head. How the fuck was this true? What were you even seeing? Did this thing come from Eddie's body??

"Fuck, I know I'm heartbroken but now I'm even seeing things?"

"Y/n," Eddie tried to get your attention. You thought you had only thought that but apparently, you had spoken the words. "You're not seeing things, this is part of the explanation I owe you."

"I think it's better if you sit," he said motioning to his couch when you did nothing but stare at Venom. Prompting by Eddie though, you sat down and listened as he spoke.

He told you everything. About Carton Drake about his project with aliens, about Venom and their rather troubled relationship. He even explained how Anne had got involved and how she and Danny had helped him.

It was definitely a lot to take in. But somehow, the thought that he could be lying to you never crossed your mind. The proof was right in front of you, wasn't it? Venom, as he had introduced himself, stood next to Eddie while he spoke. It had never spoken again and you were inwardly thankful for that. That he was giving you space to digest all of this.

"Why didn't you tell me when you came around that day, Eddie?" You asked once you thought you had wrapped your head around it.

"I didn't want you to drag you into this mess," he said with a shrug, head cast down he didn't meet your eyes.

You didn't know how you felt about all of this yet but you nodded anyway. Well, there was nothing you could do anymore, could you? He had already taken care of everything on his own and it wasn't like you had any right to worry about him anymore.

"Thank you for explaining, Eddie. I appreciate your honesty." Did this change anything for you?

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough of if Anne meant more to me than you did. That's not true but I didn't know how to tell you that without telling you what was happening." He nervously fiddled with his fingers without meeting your eyes.

You could see his point now that you knew what happened. Still, it hurt you that he decided to just keep you out of it without a word. He could have at least told you that something was going on, that he didn't or couldn't tell you anything - not right now. You would have understood and given him space. Did he really act like this to keep you safe or was it a way to dismiss you?

"I don't know if this changes things, Eddie. You still turned up to her when a major life-threatening event happened. I think this tells me everything that I need to know." You point out after a while, eyes fixed on the end of your shoes.

"She has been involved from the moment we broke up, Y/n. Hell, this was the reason we broke up in the first place." Eddie's head snapped up at your words. He looked surprised at your words like he couldn't believe that you thought Anne's involvement had been something he had actively sought out.

"That may as well be true, Eddie but still, you didn't tell me even after everything settled down. If I hadn't come around to give you your stuff I still would be none the wiser."

"I was afraid, y/n. How could I come back to you after how much I had hurt you? 'Sorry if I went m.i.a. for a while, I was infected with a parasite who knows permanently with me?' Come on, y/n, I wouldn't take me back either." Now upset, Eddie started to gesticulate frantically to prove his point. His eyes flickered between yours, he leaned toward you, his hands a touch away from yours as if he wanted to touch you but was preventing himself from doing so.

"I'm not saying I would have believed you straight away but still- aliens are way better than self-loathing you know?" You scoff at him- why was he so upset? He wasn't the one who had been beating himself up since that fight for being a worthless piece of shit, was he?

"I know I've never done a good job at showing you but I do care about you. Deeply." Almost as if he couldn't bear to not be touching you any longer, Eddie now reached for your hands. His hold on them tightening as he spoke the words.

You looked at him for a moment. Aside from that fight, your relationship with him had been good. The start wasn't promising, seeing as he was still taken by Anne but Eddie had treated you good. He was attentive and caring in his own way. Looking back to it now, you realized that the period where you started feeling him pulling back from you was the time when this whole alien thing had started.

But now you had settled this, right? So, could this mean...

"If I give you one more chance to show you," you spoke tentatively, enthralled by the twinkle in his eyes, "do you promise me to be fully transparent with me this time around?"

"What? Why would you do that?" He looked shocked but his eyes were hopeful.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it, Eddie?" You challenged him, arching an eyebrow.

"Like hell I am." He scoffed, a smile on his lips. "Nono, of course I do. I swear, y/n. You'll never feel like you don't matter to me again."

"Good." You gave him a small smile at the gobsmacked expression on his face. Oh, Eddie...

He does nothing but stares at you for a while. Like he hadn't seen you in a while and now that you were in front of him, he wanted to commit to his memory every little detail of your face.

"So," you said after a while, "do you plan to stare at me or would you like to get a head start on your promise?" you provoke him with a suggestive tone.

Eddie's mouth fell a little at that, Venom said something to him but you didn't understand him. Shaking his head, Eddie smirks at you.

"I would like nothing more." And with that, Eddie's lips are on yours making up for the lost time.

[kayr0ss]

Hands that Remember [AO3 Link]

[Horizon Zero Dawn, Elisabet Sobeck Lives, Found Family, Mother-Daughter Feelings, GAIA is recovering, Ereloy]

Summary: Aloy saw the recordings, felt their grief over the death of their culture - the loss of their identity. Ted Faro had blown away the light meant to guide humanity through darkness - but she was willing to risk it all to take it back. To bring APOLLO back.  It wasn't the first time that the world asked her for a miracle, but it bargained with a miracle of its own: This time - she didn't have to do it alone.

[Wherein Elisabet Sobeck returns, GAIA is recovering, Erend is done waiting around, and Aloy discovers a family she's never had before to help lift the weight of the world off her shoulders.]

---

Chapter 1: Resurfacing

It was endless.

The dust and sand reminded him of the canyons north of Meridian—but it seemed harsher.  Endless, expansive. Flat. He’d lost sight of All-Mother Mountain days ago and soon even the icy northern peaks of the Cut had fallen behind the horizon. All that was around him were rocks and packed earth.

Clouds of dust rose from under his footsteps, caught in a wind swooping over from further west. He wondered if they would reach the end of the world before the end of this desert. Did it just… stop? Was there an edge where everything ceased to be, a void down below ready to consume anything unfortunate enough to travel just a bit too far?

He grunted at his thoughts. Way too poetic. Been hanging around too many Carja these days—and not enough ale to drown out all the needless chatter.

What was Aloy doing out here anyway?

Still, he pressed on with gritted teeth, pulling up the fabric of his scarf above his nose. There was shelter up ahead. The faint purple glow he was following led him straight down its path: a ruin of the Old Ones full of rusting metal and crumbling rock. There were a few trees in the vicinity, tall and shooting straight up from the ground as though they were arrows.

“Must’ve taken shelter here,” he grumbled to himself.

It was a short trek to reach the threshold of the ruins. There was an archway holding a dilapidated sign, looking as if a strong kick to the base would be enough to knock it over. For a minute he entertained the thought, but what for?

A pile of metal junk lies near the perimeter of the building—one of those rectangular containers, similar to those dumped by the Old Ones in the scrapyard near Free Heap. The building itself was covered in vines and… flowers? That’s when he noticed the grass by his feet. It was lush and green, much like in the Embrace, and where plant life thrives it means—

“Water.”

He picked up his pace, falling into a jog. The journey had taken a toll on him. He was glad to have kept some empty water skins on hand—a fresh refill and his store of dried meats would be more than enough to last him the walk back. It was a small comfort against the mounting restlessness that clawed at the back of his mind, the feeling that he was never going to catch up with her at the rate he was going. He wondered if he’d tracked Aloy down this far west only to have her meet him on the road—already on the way back.

At least he hoped she was. Coming back, that is. He shook his head. Not the best time to think about that.

Further inspection revealed no machines in sight. Odd. Did Aloy clear the way already? Or was there something else, something that kept them away? The thought was unnerving, but he kept his hammer stowed away at his back. Couldn’t pick up any threats, anyway. No mines either, he nodded to himself. Stalkers could be ruled out.

He looked up towards the building. It was worn down, only the haunting twisted metal of its skeleton left standing, rubble littered at the base. “Probably fed a whole thunderjaw into a forge to build this one.” He chortled. “Great. Now I’m talking to myself. Right. Water.”

He followed the way to a patch where the growth was thicker. “Huh.” He paused, frowning. There were purple flowers arranged in a triangle too perfect to be natural. Some sort of stone seating structure was in the center and—

“Fire and spit!” he sputtered out, war-hammer pulled at the ready while he awkwardly regained his footing after nearly tripping. For some reason, even in the heat of battle he decided he didn’t want to step on the violet blooms that seemed so dainty and beautiful.

Was that… a person?

His frown deepened, brows knitting together as he looked over some sort of machine suit. It reminded him of the material Aloy had crafted over standard Nora leathers. He gently prodded at the suit with the end of his hammer’s grip. No movement. The overgrowth consuming it was an indication that it’d been sitting there for, well, a while.

He stepped in a little closer, laying a hand along the suit’s shoulder to dust it away. Cold. He recoiled.

Cold as death.

For a second or two he considered scavenging the strange machine-suit for parts, but quickly dismissed the thought when he realized there might be someone… inside. He stepped back, putting down his hammer. Oseram were delvers, not grave robbers.

I should probably go. He rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling intrusive and out of place, but one last look over the suit made him shake his head. Was this their home? He tried to imagine what the ruins might have looked before. Like Meridian, perhaps?

The person looked peaceful. Content. But it looked like a lonely way to go.

“You, uh…” he set a heavy gloved hand on the suit’s shoulder. “Have a good rest.”

The stillness didn’t last for very long. As he lifted his hand a cloud of cold, frigid gas began to leak from the small slits along the suit’s shoulders and joints.

The focus Aloy gifted him began to buzz, in sync with the deep onset of frantic panic at the pit of his stomach. By the forge did he break something? He stumbled backwards, hand coming up to tap his focus. Purple lights sprung to life—a spattering of odd blinking symbols and words that were enough to disorient him. Circles of light hovered highlighted portions of the suit, bringing up numbers and flashing words—counting down with urgency.

[WARNING:  Ultraweave Terrestrial Suit Atmospheric Seal Compromised]

"Seal?" What was that supposed to mean? He frowned. Too sober for this.

A disembodied voice buzzed into his ear—eerie and inhuman, like how the Shadow Carja’s god HADES sounded, except not quite as threatening. A woman’s voice.

[Ultraweave Terrestrial Suit Oxygen Supply—Depleted. Ultraweave Terrestrial Suit Potable Liquid Tank—Depleted]

There was a chilling pause.

[External Personnel Detected. Assessment: User of FAS Standard-Issue FOCUS Unit Number ZERO-ONE-ONE-THREE - Assistance Required. Please attend to personnel within UTS Unit Zero-Alpha-Psi.]

“What am I—?!” He looked around in a panic, feeling out of his element. Was it talking to him? This was the sort of thing Aloy was good at! “What am I supposed to do?!”

[Please attend to personnel within UTS Unit Zero-Alpha-Psi.]

“You already said that.” He grumbled back, frustrated. Does that mean this thing—this…Old One—was still alive? Upon closer inspection he could see it: frost crawling out of the vents. Cold. Still as cold as death.

He couldn’t believe it. Frozen in time.

[Stand-by for assisted reanimation.]

He reached out towards the blinking lights across the rectangular badge on the suit’s odd chest plate. It responded to his touch with purple lights blinking into living words floating across his fingertips. He gasped.

He recognized that name.

[Disengaging Cryostasis Protocol. Stand-by for assisted reanimation. Projection: ninety-three minutes to thermal homeostasis.]

--

“Captain, what happened?”

Voices. Too far away. Or were they nearby? Damn. She couldn’t tell. Couldn’t even open her eyes. It was cold. So fucking cold—colder than Nevada had any right to be.

“Get blankets! Anything! Beladga, got any shirts you can spare?”

Why was everyone in a panic? Had she fallen asleep in the control center? Huh. She didn’t recall Travis sounding nearly as gruff as that.

Travis? The others—

She… she had a job to do. A mission. What was it? Everything felt distant—disconnected. She vaguely realized she that she was shivering but why? She tried to call out but realized that she was physically unable to speak, her throat feeling dry as sandpaper. Coughing erratically, she noticed that she was partially intubated with a sort of breathing apparatus.

[Seventeen minutes to thermal homeostasis. Please prepare for disengagement of auxiliary respirator.]

An automated voice was buzzing into her ear through her focus. She could feel her senses turning, along with the slight mobility of her limbs. It seems she was being carried—or rather, being laid down onto something soft. There were footsteps. Movements. The voices were hushed, secretive and confused. There was a soft yellow light through the ambiguous blur of color that swam around her vision.

[Auxiliary respirator disengaging.]

The machinery abruptly detached the mask from her nose and mouth. The sudden brightness made her recoil, her face feeling exposed. She fell into a fit of violent coughing—as if she had forgotten how to breathe. It was painful. God, it fucking sucked.

“Take it easy now,” said the voice from earlier. It was a man. He—He was speaking with her through his own voice. How is that possible? No one could survive out here without a suit. The atmosphere was too—

A sudden wave of nausea overcame her.

Memories of her last excursion came flooding back: the bunker door failing to seal. Her last transmission to the Alphas. Project Zero Dawn. GAIA—the Swarm!

Coming home.

Dying.

I’m supposed to be dead.

“I—” she rasped out, voice hoarse and jagged. Panicked.

“Whoa there,” there was a steady hand on her shoulder, helping her turn to her side. She felt something press against her mouth almost forcefully. “Drink this.”

“We got to get her out of that suit, captain.” There was another voice, female this time.

“I think—” the captain, she assumed, replied “—I think we need to wait a few more minutes. The device is telling me that—”

Everything was fading into black again.

--

“—else to go follow her trail, or just hope she comes back. She has to… she needsto see this. I just… Oh. She’s awake, I think.”

There was some shuffling. Once again, she was offered water. It was sweet this time. Did they mix in sugar? She tried to ask but she was so, so tired and…

--

Sobeck Journal, 1-27-66

I wasn’t going to see any of it anyway.

Best I can do is hope, I guess. The landscape is barren now – I’m kind of glad the other Alphas don’t have to see it this close up. Stings. I’m half-expecting to hear Patrick patch me in via holo, asking why I haven’t dragged my feet to the conference hall for the scheduled status briefing. He’ll take good care of the younger kids, him and Charles both. ZD and the Swarm seem so small and faraway now that I’m walking away from it all. Quite literally. Hauled my ass all the way to Nevada.

Glad mom isn’t around to see the ranch like this. When I close my eyes I can almost imagine it: the tall pine trees, the grass. Maybe I’ll get to see things the way they were before on the other side… wherever that might be.

I’m tired.

Time to rest.

--

She woke up with a jolt.

“Hey.

He was still there, sitting on the ground across from her and looking just as confused as she was. Her vision was clearer now—and every detail she managed to catalogue drove a spike of panic and confusion deeper into the hollow of her chest. They were in a leather tent lit by a small gasoline lamp in the corner. They seemed to be in the outskirts of an encampment, faraway enough to not be disturbed.

“I’m guessing this is freaking you out a little.” He scratched at the back of his head, unable to meet her eyes. He pointed to a waterskin laid down beside her bedroll. “Maybe get some more water in before you speak? I’ve got some dried meats too. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten in… a while.”

On the matter of guesses, she had a vague idea what might be going on. It was equal parts terrifying and exciting and a hundred percent something she did notask for.

She had an unfortunately stellar track record for hypothesizing, though. Chances of her guess being wrong were dreadfully slim. The cold. The scenery. Even the clinical tone and instructions of her Ultraweave Suit’s reanimation module—a system she helped develop herself, back when the prospect of sleeping through the disaster was considered an option.

It wasn’t. Not consistent enough to use en masse—not enough foresight to secure species continuity.

She took a drink of water, willing to steel her nerves before panic caught up with her executive faculties. She needed to orient herself with wherever it was she woke up in. Hell, forget where, the real question is—

“When… is it?”

He blinked. “Uh, today?”

“What year is it?”

The man’s expression softened—a look that didn’t quite fit with the rest of his character. He was big. Towering—even while seated on the floor—with broad shoulders and a figure strong enough to walk around with enough steel to build a car door, apparently. “You sound so much like her.”

“I don’t follow.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming along. She needed to eat.

“Sorry I—” he scratched at his beard. “It’s the reign of the 14th Sun-King, Avad the Liberator.”

Kings? Again?

“I’m Erend, captain of the King’s vanguard.”

He paused.

“You’re Aloy’s mother, aren’t you?”

-

fin

-

A/N: I'd like to acknowledge Tototops for doing an amazing job beta-reading this! It's always a pleasure, and my writing is always pushed to grow better with every suggestion and correction you help me with. x) And to my friends Sleepy, @theguardiandragon1, @saltypyrotato, @tanuki-pyon and Fridge for listening to my HZD manic fever ramblings and helping me make sense of the plot I had in mind.

Just finished the game about two weeks ago and read a bunch of fanfic. I consumed Writerly's Second Dawn (which is absolutely amazing!!!!), which is my foremost inspiration for even attempting to write fanfic of this wonderful franchise. I base a lot of my characterizations and format of story telling in this fic from their work, and hope to do so in a way which is still true to the unique plot I've set for it. I am very excited to be trying something new and to learn and get better along the way. Hope you all enjoy. :)

[btsmutimagines]

Our Future

Look, I suck at titles, y’all and I’m a day late ffs but happy birthday Kookie 

Arranged Marriage AU

Word Count: 7.5K (I really need to stop)

Grey skies arched above you as you walked home, kicking a small pebble along with you until it got caught between a crack in the sidewalk.

You audibly sigh, enjoying yourself as you kicked it further and further each time. It was almost like you were that pebble, your life seeming to be pushed by something until it stops.

You were stuck, just like your little pebble.

You finally reached your house, unlocking the front door and noticing the familiar shoes. They were shined up and as uninvited as usual but their owner paid no mind to what you thought, clearly.

The back of your father’s head greeted you as you stepped into the living room and he put down the newspaper he was reading.

You brace yourself, knowing he came to talk to you about something. He never really looked for a conversation, just a breathing punching bag.

“Hello, father.”

“I expected you to be home sooner.”

“I hadn’t expected any guests.”

“Maybe if you answered my phone calls once in a while.”

“You don’t pick up when I call back.”

“I’ve been busy, Y/N.” When are you not? You silently retorted in your mind.

“What did you need to say, father?”

“I’d like you to come to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“I rather not.”

“Tell me why? Is there something unpleasant about a father and daughter enjoying a nice dinner together?”

“When have we ever done anything ‘nice’, father?” He cocked an eyebrow, he knew damn well that your relationship was far from any loving familial ties.

If you had it your way, he won’t ever know where to find you.

“The Blanche, seven o’clock. I’ll have Hyunjin pick you up.” He adjusted his tie, standing up to walk away and you clenched your fists.

You wanted to yell, at least tell him off for coming over uninvited to force you into some weird dinner. But you merely stood as he brushed past you, you standing in your spot until you heard your front door shut.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ─── 

This morning, you found a box with a card attached in front of your door.

You could tell from the intricate design on the card, it was from your father. Inside was a gorgeous red dress, the off-shoulder design along with the leg slit satisfying your tastes.

You held up the dress, looking in the full-length mirror and imagining yourself in it.

“As if he would know what I liked.” You scoffed to yourself, pulling the dress back on your bed. He probably just sent off one of his servants to find something for you.

Even so, what would be so important that he would send you something to wear? You were his well-kept secret, him wanting you to keep yourself hidden from his life for appearances.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted, he said. In exchange for you disappearing from his life, he sends a weekly allowance that you’ve been saving in a separate account.

Maybe one day when you’re finished, you can pack up your things and truly disappear. Nothing was tying you down to this city anyways.

Bzzt.

You heard your phone vibrate, a text notification appearing on the screen.

Incoming in 5, 4, 3, 2…

“One!” You heard your friend, Yeseul entering your apartment and you put to the dress back into its box hastily.

“Where are you?”

“Bedroom.” She wandered in, quickly embracing you in a hug and you stood still. You’ve been friends since freshman year, Yeseul being the only one who put up with you.

You didn’t mind hanging out with her but you didn’t put your eggs into her basket yet.

Memories of your ‘friends’ asking you to hang out, racking up a huge bill and then making excuses to leave you to pay each time. Your dad even got on your case, interrogating why you spent so much each week. He cut you off, only giving you enough for lunch and your so-called friends were suddenly too busy for you.

How naïve.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“Zoning out, burning imaginary holes into the last thing you looked at. You know, the usual.”

“I was just thinking, Seul.”

“Well stop that, we got other things to do.”

“We? What are you roping me into now?”

“Why do you say that like I only get you into trouble?”

“Because you do.” You deadpanned, you haven’t forgotten the time she thought it was a good idea to stay for after-hours when there’s a curfew in place. You had to dip into the savings to pay off the ticket you got.

“It’s harmless fun, Y/N.”

“That citation definitely harmed my savings.” You muttered.

“Anyways, listen. You and me, dancing and drinking at Hoseok’s party tonight. Sounds like a dream, right?”

“A nightmare, actually.”

“Come on, Hoseok was gracious enough to invite me with a plus one, meaning you.”

“I have to pass.”

“Why?”

“I have plans. Dinner plans, actually.”

“Who’s the mystery man? He must be worth your time since you’re passing up an offer from me.” She knows damn well you would pass up any party with or without plans.

“That’s not important. I just don’t think I can miss this dinner. Sorry.”

“So secretive. I expect no less though.”

“I’ll tell you about it later.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I’ll take enough shots for both of us.”

“Remember to drink water in between and eat something too.”

“Okay.” She pursed her lips, leaving your apartment right after and you sat on your bed. You shook off the tension, checking the time and preparing yourself for this dinner.

Whatever it’s about, you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it.

You were adjusting your necklace when you hear a knock at your door. Opening the door revealed Hyunjin, one of your father’s drivers. He was newer than the others but devoted to your father like the others.

“Miss Y/N?”

“Y/N is fine. Take me to where I need to go, please.”

“As you wish, Y/N.” You took his arm, locking your door behind you and followed him to the car. The unease settled in when he started driving, part of you that you just went to that party with Yeseul.

Maybe she wouldn’t make that pointed comment and you would send your father a message.

Alas, here you are, walking into the Blanche like the little good girl he expected you to be. Wearing the dress he picked for you, even putting in the useless effort of making yourself presentable to only be met with him scowling at his phone.

“Hello to you too.”

“Ah, so you did come. Glad to see you have the decency to clean yourself up.”

“I rather you tell me why am I here instead of having this conversation with you.”

“First, sit.”

“I don’t plan on staying.”

“Then, change your plan. I have very important people that you have to meet arriving soon and it would be rude to stand there as you are.” You grit your teeth, sitting across from your father and crossing your arms.

A waiter braved his way to your table, filling up your water glass while you shot daggers at your father. Bastard didn’t even have the decency to even hint at who these ‘very important people’ are and why it should somehow matter to you?

You thought the deal was you wouldn’t even say your father’s name in passing and he could live his life freely. No burden of you.

“Ah, Younghee.” Your father got up, making you turn your head to look at a woman who was walking towards your table.

God, was he going to tell you that he was marrying this woman? Why would you even care if he gets remarried?

“I’m terribly late again, aren’t I?”

“Hardly. Is he here as well?” He? Was there a man accompanying her? Her son?

“Of course, he’s an important part of this conversation.”

“That is right. Oh, I almost forgot, this is Y/N, Younghee.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“How polite. Ah, you’re more beautiful than I thought.”

“Thank you very much.” Currently wishing the ground would swallow you whole, right about now. At least before this other guest shows up.

“Oh, Jungkook, darling, over here.” She waved someone over you, this time you stared forward. You froze as this man took a seat next to you. Fuck, you should have ditched when you still had the chance.

“Pardon my mother and I’s tardiness, sir.”

“It’s quite alright, Jungkook. All that matters is that we are all here now. Before we start, we should actually order something. Breadsticks will not get me through the night, I’m afraid.” This fucker is just going to keep dancing around the real topic for as long as he can-

“Um, I’m Jungkook. Y/N, I presume.” You looked at the man, quietly taken aback by how attractive he was. His hair was slightly parted, each hair perfectly in place. His shaped jaw highlighted his face, his pink lips were a perfect hue and he was just… perfect. But he was going to be your stepbrother, right? You shouldn’t even look at him in any other way.

“You would be right, Jungkook.”

“See, they’re already getting along.” You wanted to roll your eyes, all you did was introduce yourselves.

The waiter took your order, you quietly tapping your foot while your father acted jovial with his two guests. You only answered when addressed, quiet otherwise and hoping your food would arrive soon.

“So, Jungkook, your mother says you’re a game developer.”

“Yes, sir. Currently developing a sequel to one of my first projects.”

“My Jungkookie’s project has sold almost one billion copies globally. I’m lucky to have such a successful son.”

“Mother.”

“That’s impressive, right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, sure.” You were more interested in swirling the rich wine that sat in the glass you held in your right hand than whatever this conversation was about.

“Y/N’s in university, right? I’ve heard from your father that you have multiple companies scouting you.”

“That’s really cool.”

“Yup.” You said, taking a large swig and placing your glass on the table.

“Alright, enough of the small talk. Why are we really here?”

“Forgive her, Younghee, I’m afraid alcohol tends to loosen her lips. But I don’t mind cutting the chase.”

“It’s quite alright, I’m sure she wants to relax. After all, to be married so young in this day and age is a rarity.”

Married?

“Wait, excuse me. Who’s getting married?”

“You and Jungkook are getting married. Engaged for now.”

“Are you joking? This is a joke, right?”

“Had you not tell her? This is a lot to load on the child.”

“She could have seen it coming.”

“You’re too mean.” You got up, walking away from the table as you glared at your father. Of course, he would pull some shit like this with you now and then he has to remind you that he was in control.

“Y/N!” You didn’t look back, not caring about who was following you.

“Y/N, please.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“I can’t. Not when you’re like this.” You stopped, turning around to face Jungkook. He loosened his tie, his coat over his shoulder as he caught his breath.

“You know you walk fast in heels.”

“Why did you follow me anyways? Did your mom send you?”

“I came on my own. Your dad made some excuse about you being drinker than he thought, and my mom just accepted it. I figured it was more than that.”

“Even if it was, it’s none of your business.”

“Hard to say when we’re engaged now, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to get married to you, Jungkook.” He looked down, running his hand through his hair.

“Are you really okay with this, having everything in your life dictated by someone else? Don’t you want to know what it’s like to choose?”

“All I ask is that you give me a chance.”

“Jungkook.” How strong is his mother’s hold on him?

“I know that this is probably the worst thing that could happen to you, being forced to be stuck with someone like me but I want to show you who I am. Show you that I’m someone that you can fall in love with. If we don’t work, I’ll break the engagement myself.” You looked at him, his hand clasped together as he pleaded with you.

He looked so sincere, something in his eyes made you feel like he meant it.

“I’m holding you to that.” You replied, looking away from him and he pulled you into a sudden huh. Your body stiffened, not expecting the sudden skinship. He felt warm, the scent of his cologne making it hard to think of a better adjective.

“Thank you.”

“You’d be welcome if you let me go.” You blurted, not wanting to linger around him any longer.

“Sorry. Got a little too excited.” He cleared his throat, you avoid his eyes while you fiddled with your dress.

“Can I take you home?”

“If you’re okay with a few blocks.”

“Why not call a taxi?”

“Easier to walk.” You asserted, beginning to walk in the direction of your apartment and Jungkook could only follow you.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

 You made it home, Jungkook awkwardly bidding you goodbye while you muttered a good night before slipping inside. Thankfully, you had classes to distract you but all you could think about how your dad decided to basically sell you off for his best interests. Someone like Jungkook probably had a monopoly on the gaming industry and your father wanted to venture into technology.

Regardless of how good looking he was, how successful he is, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was mainly your father’s and his mother’s influence that is driving him. How long can he put up this earnest act?

Give me a chance.

“Ugh.” You groaned, his words repeating in your head and you felt someone poking at your head.

“Quit it.”

“It’s only Monday.”

“That’s part of the problem, Seul.” You looked up to see her sitting next to you, she didn’t seem upset anymore.

“Then what is it? Mystery date was a dud?”

“Something like that.” More like mystery fiancé.

“What happened?” You came up with a lie, telling her that your father arranged your marriage overnight would result in questions you didn’t want to answer.

“I agreed to a second date and I’m not sure if I’m still up for it since we didn’t start on the right foot.”

“What do you like about him?”

“He’s loyal to a fault, he puts in the effort, ambitious…”

“Sounds like things you put on a resume.”

“It wasn’t the best first date.”

“But you said yes to a second one.”

“But he said some sweet things when he did. It sounded like something out of a drama.”

“Aw, he melted your heart a bit, didn’t he?”

“Shut up.” You snapped, embarrassed that you admitted that part of what he said actually affected you.

“I think you should give it a shot since you saw something in him. Plus, you could always dump him if he’s not what he seems.”

“I guess, you’re right this time.”

“What do you mean ‘this time’? Aren’t I always right?”

“You wish.” She nudged you, you were laughing in response.

After your talk with Yeseul, you felt better about the bombshell. But you figured you would have some time before you would see Jungkook. Not him standing outside of your apartment building with his hands in his pockets.

He looked formal, wearing a waistcoat with a dress shirt. You could see gloves covering his hands and you cursed yourself for immediately thinking of how hot he looked.

“Y/N.”

“At my pace, my ass.” You muttered as you tried to pretend that you couldn’t know him, but he started to jog towards you. The two of you ran in the opposite direction of your apartment until he caught you, your back pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Caught you. Part of me is starting to think you like the chase.”

“I like space, which you’re invading.”

“Right, no hugs. But can we talk face to face?” He let go and you obliged to his request, currently giving him a hard stare.

“I really came because I don’t have your number, can’t give our relationship an honest try without each other’s number.” You gulped, even the word ‘relationship’ made you feel weird. He was right, you thought to yourself, you had to give this an honest try, so you could properly reject him and break it cleanly.

After all, how could you fall for someone like him?

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“Having daydreams about me?”

“Ha, you wish, Jeon.” You started to walk back in the direction of your house, not wanting to stay out for long.

“Not even my first name, I thought we were closer than that.”

“You have to work for it.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” How do you say things like that so casually, ugh? You pulled out your phone, handing it over to him to enter his number before he turned it over.

“Kookie?”

“It’s cuter hearing you actually saying it out loud.”

“I’m literally never saying that again.”

“Aw, come on Y/N, I can make up a cute nickname for you too.”

“Please don’t.”

“You seem like a sugar plum.”

“What kind of nickname is that? Sugarplum? I don’t even know what that is.”

“Have you never tried them?”

“I think your terrible nickname counts as a deterrent.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to be compared to a candy?”

“It’s not exactly something I want to hear, to be honest.”

“I promise to come up with something better.”

“A promise I wish you can’t keep.”

“I’m not giving up.”

“This is a weird hill you want to die on but by all means, go ahead.”

“At least it’s earned me a smile today.”

“You talk like the main lead in a romance drama. Just awfully cheesy.”

“I hope you’re not lactose intolerant.”

“Seriously, stop it.” You reach your apartment, the two of you talking while walking up flights of stairs until you were at your door.

“Time flies, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

“I wish it would stop, kind of liked talking to you.”

“Mhm.”

“Ouch, you didn’t feel the same. I thought we had a good chat.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Can’t play all my cards, can I?” You unlocked your door, letting yourself in but leaving it open enough that you could still see him.

“If this is a game, hope you don’t mind losing. I play to win, Y/N.”

“We’ll see about that. Good night.”

“Night, Y/N.” You shut your door, walking into your bedroom and plopping on the bed.

I play to win, Y/N. Not on my watch, Jungkook.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

“If you stare at your phone that hard, you might actually shoot laser beams at it.”

It’s been two weeks since you and Jungkook had met, the man semi occupied your thoughts. He kept his distance, probably leaving the ball in your court in terms of whether you wanted to talk to him or not.

And you hate to admit it but you did want to talk to him at least.

“Har har.”

“Is Mystery Date on your mind again? Did you have your second date?”

“I guess you could say so, it went so much smoother like I could say anything, he would know what to say back. It was nice.” God, you sounded like a high schooler in their first relationship. And you can’t even see you and Jungkook beyond acquaintances.

“So, he wasn’t a waste of time but what’s wrong now?”

“I don’t know what to text him.”

“Wait, you weren’t already texting?”

“I met him off Tinder and he wanted to delete the app so we exchanged numbers.” You lied coolly, Yeseul humming in response.

“What are you hoping this message sends to him? Not literal, like do you want him to be more enticed by you or like you’re playing a hot and cold thing with him.”

“Just that I’m open to texting.”

“Oh. You’re not ready for sexting anyways.”

“What?”

“Just send him a simple ‘hey’.”

“Isn’t that too simple?”

“But you’re just opening a conversation, you don’t need much.”

“Are you sure?”

“Y/N, do it before I do it myself.”

“Okay, okay.” You murmured, typing it out and hitting send. He must have seen it, the familiar three dots appearing on your screen before his message came.

I didn’t think you would actually text me, I was preparing to camp out your apartment door.

I would totally call apartment security if you did.

So mean, honey bun.

Honeybun? I think you should retire from this nickname thing, it was funny the first time and now it’s just sad.

No good, huh? I have gotten plenty more to try out.

I swear I’m going to block you if you do.

Fine, I won’t try them out here. But believe me when I say that I’m going to have the perfect nickname for you and you’re going to love me for it

Sure, Jeon.

You do realize my name is actually Jeon Jungkook, not Jeon?

I am aware

Man, you play hard to get on the hardest mode, but I’m not giving up. I’m going to capture your heart.

“Oh my gosh, he’s going to ‘capture your heart’. He found your weakness, sappy lines.”

“They are not my weakness.”

“Please, all I have to say is ‘Don’t let go-”

“It’s too soon, Yeseul. Okay, too soon.”

“Are you sniffling?”

“Shut it.”

Great, you got my friend in on your corny lines

Aw, you talked about me to your friends? Can’t keep us a secret, babe? ;)

I rather keep it a secret but I need advice.

Advice?

Yeah, how to deal with such a shameless man.

Hey, I have some shame. It take a lot of confidence to talk to a girl like you, I feel like you can see through me

So, you know to not waste my time.

Time with me is always worth it, trust me.

Mhm

Somehow that hurt more than when you do that in person.

Hey, Y/N, I’m really happy you texted me but I gotta go? Talk to me later or something.

Don’t play too hard

That’s literally my job, Y/N but seriously bye J

“He sounds cute.”

“He’s something else, really.”

“I know you like to keep people at an arm's length but it really looks like he wants to be centimetres apart if you catch my drift.”

“We’ve been out twice, I’m not going to sleep with him.”

“Is he hot?”

“Objectively.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“I’m going to tell you to bag him.”

“You’re nuts.”

“No, it’s been two weeks since you met, he seems pretty decent and he’s objectively hot, whatever that means.”

“I still need to get to know him.”

“Just take him for a test drive.“

“Yeseul!”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You were scrolling through your twitter feed, reading some thread exposing another influencer when you heard a knock on your door.

“Coming.” You said, walking over and opening it to Jungkook.

He lost the business attire, wearing a simple black shirt and jeans. Fine, so it wasn’t the suits that made him look so hot.

“Wow.”

“Is there a reason you showed up on this fine Saturday?”

“Because I want to take you out. Plus I got to see you in shorts.”

“My eyes are up here, Jeon.”

“Wait, let me admire them a bit longer.” You were about to swing the door shut when he stopped the door.

“I was just joking, Y/N. But would you like to go out with me?”

“You don’t mean like a date, do you?”

“Whatever you want it to be.”

“Then we can hang out, Jungkook.”

“You said my name.”

“Did I? Must have been a slip of the tongue, Jeon.”

“Shoot, I should have enjoyed it while it lasted.”

“You can wait in the living room. Touch anything and I’ll have your head.”

“You’re joking, right?” You smiled in response.

“Oh.”

“So where are we going?”

“Somewhere fun, casual.”

“How descriptive.”

“It’s no fun if I tell you everything. You’ll know when we get there.”

“Of course I would because we would already be there.”

“Just get changed, Y/N.”

“Bossy.” You teased, going into your bedroom to change.

Should I dress up for him? But the most we are is friends and since when did friends have to impress each other? Gosh, why are you even thinking about this? Just toss something together!

You put on a crop top and some shorts, joining Jungkook in the living room after brushing your hair.

“Let’s go.” You clapped your hands together, getting Jungkook’s attention and walking towards the front door.

You thought you heard Jungkook mutter under his breath, making you quietly smirk before turning to look at him.

“Is something the matter?”

“Of course not. After you.” The two of you opted for the elevator, you listening to Jungkook hum melodically. He led you to his car, opening the door for you and you sat with a quiet ‘thank you’.

“Are you really not going to tell me?”

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s a building in this city.”

“I see you can be mean too.”

“Taste of your own medicine. A bit bitter, isn’t it?”

“You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

“A bit.”

“Hmph.”

“Sounds more cute than angry.”

“You’re a strange man.”

“Only to you, Y/N. Mother says I’m the most perfect person in the world, you’re a close second though.” You rolled your eyes, you’re surprised he went so long without mentioning his mother and chose now to bring her up.

“Of course she does. You’re her baby boy.”

“Oh shit, forgot about your father.”

“Let’s keep him forgotten.”

“Alright.”

“I’m surprised you know how to drive.”

“What a weird comment. Why wouldn’t I know?”

“You seemed like the type to have drivers, mommy won’t want her baby to get into an accident.”

“I’m not that much of a momma’s boy. I have a motorcycle license, I’ll have you know.”

“You? On a motorcycle?”

“I was 18 and feeling rebellious. It explains the earrings too.”

“They suit you actually.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, I have to see you on a bike.”

“Depends, will you take a ride with me?”

“You just want an excuse to get me to hug you, don’t you?”

“Damn, nothing gets past you. But I miss the night rides and it’s nicer with company.”

“I might take you up on that.”

“I guess I better dust off the old bike, then.”

“It’s not a date, remember that.”

“I know, I know.” He pulled into a parking lot, smoothly reversing into a spot before the two of you getting out.

“This way.” You followed him, the sign a dead giveaway and you smiled.

“I could have guessed that you would pick an arcade.”

“It’s fun and casual.”

“Hey, Ms. Han.”

“Oh, Jungkook honey, you came! Who is this lovely woman? Your girlfriend?”

“No, she’s just a friend, Ms. Han.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You bowed to her and she waved her hands.

“No need to be so formal, a friend of Jungkookie is a friend of mine. This rascal has been coming to this arcade for years, even skipping classes to beat the high scores on most of these machines.”

“Is that so? What a bad boy.”

“Hey, don’t gang up on me. I still did well, didn’t I, Ms. Han?”

“With the skin of your teeth. You’re lucky you were a talented kid, now a big name game developer.”

“I’m still the same Jungkook.”

“You are the reason I still have banana milk in my fridge.”

“My favourite. Thank you, Ms. Han.”

“Ah, you.” Jungkook cheekily smiles before laughing, soon enough the three of you were. You took a seat at a machine, Jungkook sitting next to you and playing.

“Wanna make a bet?”

“Depends, what do I win?”

“Your most embarrassing baby photo.”

“Blackmail material, huh? Won’t put it past you.”

“Humour me with what you think you’ll win.”

“You let me take you out on a real date.”

“Aiming high, aren’t you?”

“Of course, the greater the risk, the greater the reward. You in?”

“Better be ready to hand that picture over tomorrow.”

“Don’t count on it, babe.” There’s the damned nickname, hearing it in person has the same effect as it does typed out. You didn’t let it seem obvious, focusing on the machine and the two of you playing a single round.

“I win. I can’t wait to get my hands on the sweet blackmail material.”

“Sure, after our date.”

“That isn’t part of the deal.”

“Check the scores again, Y/N.” You looked at the two screens, Jungkook putting his arm around your shoulder with a smile on his face.

10660 to 1066…5. He beat you by 5 points.

“How.”

“I’ve been playing since high school, I think I’m losing my touch. I have the high score on this game, I think.”

“I want a rematch.”

“If that’s what you want.” You tried different combos, putting all your focus on your character and finishing with a better score than the first time.

“Beat you by 10, this time.”

“Are you cheating?”

“I think it’s a classic case of sore loseritis.”

“I am not a sore loser, just can’t wrap my head around you beating me.”

“Well, I am a game developer. If I were horrible at games, that would be ironic.”

“This isn’t fair.”

“Wait here, I’ll get you some banana milk.” You frowned at him, watching him go into the back and Ms. Han hit you with a rag.

“He looks really happy with you.”

“I think he just likes winning games.”

“This is a different kind of happy, the smile on his face looks different than when he sees me coming into the arcade with a carton of banana milk or hearing about how the neighbourhood kids talked about his game.”

“It’s like he’s in love. Just like that girl he used to talk about in high school.”

“Jungkook had a crush?”

“But he has you now. Keep your eye on him for me, will you Y/N?”

“I-”

“Ms. Han, you’re running low on banana milk.”

“Ya, you punk, you should supply your own.”

“I promise I’ll buy some next time. Y/N, here.” He handed you a bottle, the straw already inserted and you took a sip. It was really sweet, you never thought he would like something like this.

“Can we book a karaoke room?”

“For how long?”

“An hour.”

“Jungkook.”

“I want to hang out with you a bit longer.” That innocent comment led to the two of you singing the opening to Naruto three times and you two belting Unravel on the top of your lungs.

You took a seat, tired and Jungkook sang on his own. He had such a pretty voice, each note sounding perfect in your ears. Is there anything he can’t do?

“One more song?”

“You’re totally going to lose your voice.”

“I’m dedicating this song to you, Y/N.”

“Oh my god.” You covered your face, laughing as he dramatically pointed at you and he entered the code.

The gentle piano played through the speakers and he kept his eyes on the screen as he sang. It was a simple love ballad, it felt like he was truly saying these words to you.

“Are you crying?”

“Shut up, that was beautiful you ass.”

“I’m not sure whether to be offended or flattered.”

“It’s a compliment, you jerk.”

“Okay… let’s take you home.”

You followed him out to his car, going back to your apartment.

“Are we really going on a date?”

“Why? Can’t wait?”

“I rather not.”

“But we had so much fun today.”

“But it wasn’t a date.”

“I know. But it was a test run for our real date.”

“You planned this out, didn’t you?”

“No comment.”

“I can admire the sneakiness.”

“I planned the whole thing, except for the little chat between you and Ms. Han.”

“Did you eavesdrop?”

“No, I thought she would say something embarrassing that I rather not relive.”

“Really, not even the girl you had a crush on?”

“She didn’t tell you her name, did she?”

“No, but now I’m curious. A girl that got your attention, wonder what she was like? Could she be the reason you got all rebellious?”

“Hey, save these questions for our date.”

“You’re serious about that?”

“Of course. Let me walk you up.” He locked his doors behind the two of you, taking you up to your floor while talking with you more.

“Just what I wanted to see.” You looked at your father standing out of your apartment, Jungkook stopping behind you. He smirked at the two of you, your blood boiling as he adjusted his cuff links.

“Why are you here?”

“Is there something unusual about a father caring about his only daughter?”

“You? Care about me? When did that start? When I became an asset to you to use?”

“Watch your words, girl. Do you realize who you’re speaking to?”

“A deadbeat father who chose money over me.”

“You-” You shut your eyes, knowing what should come next but it didn’t. Opening your eyes, you saw Jungkook holding your father’s arm and he let go.

“Remember this, Y/N, your life was never yours. Never.” He spat, walking off and Jungkook turned to you.

“He’s done that before, hasn’t he?”

“I push his buttons a lot, don’t I?”

“You don’t have to tell me but I won’t let him get away with it anymore. Okay?” You let him hug this time, holding onto a piece of his shirt for a moment. He didn’t make you say it, thankfully but he knew what your father truly was at least.  

His hand patted your hair, the soft gesture melting your heart a bit. Your mother used to do the same thing when you were scared at night before you’d fall asleep she would say these words:

“I’ll protect you.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

 Yeseul came over, tossing dresses in your direction and currently spazzing while you dodged.

“Oh my god, how come you have like nothing to wear?”

“We’re standing in like a hill of my clothes right now.”

“And yet you still have nothing to wear.”

“Maybe I should get a raincheck.”

“Oh hell no, I can finally meet this mystery man tonight and you can’t take that away from me.”

“Yeseul, calm down.”

“I am calm.” So not calm. You sighed, just fishing through the clothes that Yeseul chucked and finding a simple little black dress.

“That is it. Simple, chic and elegant. My tossing abilities have never failed me.” You rolled your eyes, knowing better than to argue with Yeseul about her not noticing it when she initially tossed it at you but there was no point being a dead horse.

After putting on the dress and Yeseul becoming an impromptu hair and makeup artist, you waited for Jungkook.

You heard him knock and Yeseul sprinted to the door before you could make three steps.

“Oh my god, he’s hotter than I imagined.”

“You must be Yeseul.”

“So you have talked about me.”

“Yeah, just the usual, you being annoying and slightly overbearing. Everyday things.”

“Sometimes I wonder how Jungkook managed to get through 2 months of you without even thinking he needs a break.”

“I think about it every day, try me.”

“Oh yeah, you can start right now.”

“Oh no, missy, and pass up on this date when you’ve dressed up so beautifully? I’d would have to be locked up in an asylum.”

“I told you you looked hot.” Yeseul boasted.

“Hush.”

“Now, I’m stealing Y/N for the night. Not sure if I’ll get her back by morning.”

“By all means, take her.”

“Gee, Yeseul, some friend you are.”

“Have fun, lovebirds.”  She rushed you both out, giving you a thumbs up and wink. You cocked an eyebrow, Jungkook leading you away and you were met with a midnight blue motorcycle.

“You weren’t joking.”

“I’d never joke about my Harley. Come on.” You took the helmet from him, placing it on your head and sitting behind him.

“Trust me and hold on.” You listen to the bike roaring to life before purring as he began to ride. He weaved through traffic carefully, probably because of you and parked at a restaurant.

“Can I..um…hold your hand?”

“Yeah.” You breathed, Jungkook quietly lacing his fingers between yours and leading you into the restaurant.

“Reservation for Mr. Jeon.”

“Right this way, sir.” The host led you to your table, an intimate booth with virtually no one in sight.

“A waiter will be with your shortly to take your orders.” He said, walking away and leaving you with Jungkook.

“Are you nervous?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to look this beautiful, it’s kind of distracting.”

“Should I be offended or flattered?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re pretty handsome, I guess.”

“Compliments with you are like pulling teeth.”

“At least you know how much I mean it when I say one due to their rarity.”

“Point taken. But I’m going to keep telling you how beautiful you are until it sticks.”

“You might give me a big head.”

“Even so, you would be beautiful.”

“Charmer.”

“I aim to please, babe. Since you like it when I call you that.”

“When did I-”

“Didn’t think I would notice how you gulp anytime I said it and you look to your left?”

“Okay, that’s weird for you to notice.”

“It’s because I’m always looking at you. It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.”

“Sap.”

“But you drink it up like syrup.”

“Doesn’t make it any less sappy.”

“Fair enough.” The waiter came by, the two of you placing your orders and once again were left to each other.

“What was your childhood like?”

“Always with the hard questions, Y/N. Dad was busy expanding his empire and legacy, Mom took care of me and my older brother. My older brother started working for our dad, spending more time with the company then getting married and putting any other free time into his wife.”

“It was me and mom for a while, but my dad would come back to remind me that I was his son and he’s the one calling the shots.”

“I remember the day I ran off after turning 18, spending countless nights mindlessly riding through cities, spending nights in bars and crashing at random people’s houses to get by. My mother came for me with two men to drag me back home, my father was gone. Fucked off to god knows where.”

“Mom was lonely and so was I, so we lived together. I put my time into game development, being one of the lucky ones to hit big with my first project and here am I.”

“I guess a power-hungry father is a trope we share.”

“You’re right.”

“But you’re conveniently forgetting this mystery crush from high school.”

“She was so carefree, always doing what she wanted but never in the way of others. Like a bird. She flew away, out of my life for years.”

“Do you know what happened to her?”

“I.. don’t, could only guess she’s happy now.”

“I’m surprised your crush wasn’t a video game character.”

“Lara Croft is still my number one.”

“I see, that’s why you like shorts so much.”

“It was an awakening.” You tittered, he’s such a goofball.

“Your turn.”

“It was just me, my father and mom. My mom died in my first year of middle school, dad starts nosediving into work and I had to raise myself. Dad came home one day and told me that we shouldn’t be associated with each other anymore. Sent me away after high school and occasionally pops in to make me feel like I’m nothing without him.”

“You’re more than what he could ever be. He’s just a grumpy piece of shit.”

“It’s nice to hear someone else finally say it.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He reached for your hand, his thumb stroking the back of your palm.

“Yeah.” He caught your eyes, the two of you having a quiet conversation through eye contact. You didn’t know what to say next until Jungkook started to wiggle his eyebrows at you.

“God.” You started to laugh, breaking eye contact.

“I win.”

“When was this a competition?”

“Since I said it was.”

“Is everything a game to you?”

“Not when it comes to like… serious stuff.”

“How profound, Jungkook.”

“I should be a philosopher.” You shook your head, him chuckling to himself. The waiter came around with your food, appreciating the arrangement before taking a bite.

It was silent yet comfortable. The quite clatter for utensils against dishes left you to think about this moment in time.

You would have never thought that you would be able to sit across Jungkook, being about to joke around with each other and just feel happy in each other’s company.

Didn’t think that you’d find yourself talking every day, hanging out whenever you were free, sometimes even missing him- Wait, when did things become so different?

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s just you got a little something on your cheek.” You took a napkin, gently wiping his cheek before he could. He watched you, those brown eyes drinking the sight of you and you felt like you were drowning.

His hand came to cover yourself when you were about to pull away. Your face grew hot, his large hand clasped over yours against his cheek while he gazed into your eyes. You were slowly becoming his leading lady and you hadn’t even realized it until now.

“I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you, Y/N. Not because of our parents, but because I got to see parts of you that I didn’t know existed. You’re witty, competitive, smart, beautiful, everything I could ever want and need.”

“Jungkook.”

“Tell me I’m not crazy for feeling like this, that I’m not the only one.”

“You’re not crazy.”

“But how do you feel about me?”

“Promise me you won’t grow a big head.”

“I won’t grow a big head all of a sudden.”

“I think you’re different from who I thought you were.”

“Good different?”

“Good different. Maybe more than that.”

“I’ll take it.”

 ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

 You took off your helmet, fixing your hair and Jungkook getting off after shutting his bike off.

“You totally rode slower this time.”

“It’s the only time you’ll hold me.”

“That’s because…you’re the affectionate one.”

“And I’ve been deprived, you know.”

“You have my permission now.” He took a step closer to you, his hand gently smoothing over a strand of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. His hand swiftly moved to hold your cheek before he looked into your eyes.

“I want to kiss you so badly.”

“Please do.” You breathed mindlessly before he leaned in.

He was gentle, your kiss barely touching before you pulled on his tie to reel him closer. Your mind was racing faster than your heart, the softness of his lips blocking out any other thought beside Jungkook.

He tasted like the champagne you two shared, the sweet taste more intoxicating than the actual alcohol. You melted, him wrapping an arm around your waist and temporarily breaking your kiss.

You dived back in, not wanting to let go the feeling his lips gave you. It hadn’t occurred to you that you were waiting for this for so long, holding back for what?

You pulled away, needing to breath and he held you close. His heart was pounding as hard as you was while you quietly listened against his chest.

“Give me your hand.”

“Now, close your eyes.”

“You’re getting bossy, you know.”

“Sometimes I like to wear pants, you know.”

“Don’t get used to it. I like control.”

“Then I’m all yours. Open them.” You looked your hand, seeing a ring on your ring finger.

It was a silver band with red heart crystals embedded around it.

“It’s just a promise ring. A promise that I’ll be by your side… as your boyfriend.”

“Jungkook.”

“Will you be my girl?”

“Of course, I will, Kookie.”

[127-mile]

Bots and books.

Pairing: Artificial intelligence Ten x female reader.

Genre: AI, bookstore | Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Ten thinks robots are superior to humans.

Plot: When your boss asked you to train the new employee, you didn’t think you would end up with a robot freshly out of the factory.

Word count: +5.3k.

A/N: This is part of the AI project #14320 collab hosted by @pastelsicheng​​​.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

When you hear Taeil's voice behind you, you drop the book you were holding, and when it crashes on your foot, you pursed your lips so as not to be vulgar when so many customers are in the store. "Oh boy, I'm sorry, I should have warned you that I was here." Taeil whispers, and when you look over your shoulder, you notice that he doesn't look embarrassed by the situation, or ashamed, on the contrary, he looks amused.

"I feel like you are trying to hurt me, am I wrong?" you ask, squinting, and he shrugs. At least he bends down to pick up the book and put it where it was supposed to go. "Maybe I'm just trying to get you to go home because you're spending too much time here, maybe I didn't do it on purpose, who knows." If he wasn't your boss, you would have insulted him, but you care about your job, and you like being able to pay your rent every month without having to ask your parents for help.

“I don't spend too much time here, I even think that I don't spend enough time here. But getting back to what caused you to come bother me, yes we can talk. What do you want?" you turn completely towards him, and you tilt your head to the side. "We're going to have a new employee tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could take care of him, show him how the bookstore works, show him how to use the cash register, you know, everything that I taught you when I hired you."

"Aren't you supposed to take care of it, as the boss?" you ask, and he takes his hands out of the pockets of his pants when a client approaches, he smiles at her, and when she disappears, he regains his slumped position. "Are you listening when I'm talking to you?" you know it's a rhetorical question and yet you shake your head, you're not going to lie, you tend to stop listening when he talks for too long. Can he blame you? He has a soft voice that lulls you to sleep.

"I vividly remember telling you last week that I had to go away for a few days. I have an appointment in another city for my next book." oh yes, you remember hearing him mention a new book, an appointment with his publisher, and other people who might help him, but you don't remember hearing him mention the date, or how long he would be gone. "Am I going to have to spend weeks putting books away with your head on the cover? I better get a raise for that!"

"Why would you get a raise, you should be happy to see my face on books!" you could tell him that yes, it's an honor to work with a famous writer, but you don't want to give him that pleasure. "So if I have to take care of the new employee, does that mean that I will also be the boss until you come back from your vacation?"

"It's not a vacation," he mumbles, and you smirk, it's so easy to annoy Taeil, and that's why you like him so much. "but yes, you will be in charge of the store until I return. So are you okay with that?" you know you don't have a choice, that you are the only person working here that he trusts enough to entrust his shop, his baby. "Of course I agree! I won't miss an opportunity to turn a new employee against you."

"Maybe I'll take this opportunity away from the store to find a new employee, to replace you. I've had enough of you!" you're very happy that customers are around, otherwise he certainly would have shouted to sound more dramatic. "You can't fire me, because I'll ruin your business, and you love me way too much, you'll be bored without me. Do I also need to remind you that you wouldn't have a manuscript for your editor to read if I hadn't been there to force you to write?"

Rather than respond, Taeil walks away muttering something between clenched teeth, and if a client wasn't calling for your help to find a book, you most likely would have laughed at his behavior.

Night has fallen for an hour or so when you finally lock the bookstore door behind you, and when the cold wind caresses your cheeks, you sigh deeply. You like this place, it's a bit of a second home for you, but good god, you want to be at home, even if you have to deal with your roommates' antics until you fall asleep.

"Excuse me?"

Your blood freeze in your body, you should have checked that no one was around the store when you went out, because Taeil is already gone, and he won't be there to help you if a drunken idiot, or a little too pushy keeps you from coming home. You take a deep breath, but it hitches in your throat when you turn on your heels. "Can I help you?" you ask in a voice that you hope is not too shaky.

The young man stays silent for a while, and you frown when he tilts his head a little too slowly not to look like a killer straight out of the horror movies you love so much. You clear your throat, and he seems to take notice of the question put to him, so he nods, extending a hand to you. "You dropped that." in his hand, you see the notebook that you always keep in your bag, bag that you have thrown over your shoulder without even taking the time to close it.

The lump that had formed in your throat is disappearing as quickly as it came, and you refrain from sighing in relief. "Oh, thank you very much!" you take the notebook that you put in your bag before closing the zip. "Thank you?" the young man answers, but before you can open your mouth he walks away from the shop.

You happen to meet strange people, but this is the first time you've met someone like him, someone who seems surprised to have been thanked for something as mundane as returning a notebook. Taeil would say that this is a person's first life on earth. Him and his writer mind.

Even though the stranger didn't look dangerous, you make sure he got far enough away to walk in the direction of the stairs leading to the underground metro. If you're not a fan of this place, you like being there at this late hour, because it's not so crowded, and it's easy for you to find a seat in the metro. You push your headphones into your ears, and you look up at the screen near the sliding door.

You roll your eyes when you see the ads for LSM going on. If you were to earn $10 every time you saw it on TV, or heard it on the radio, you would have enough to pay your rent for at least six months without needing to work. This really isn't an exaggeration, the company really wants everyone to know about what they are offering, new updates on their bots, and how excited they are to have sent the most of their new robots in the world for work, for study, or for entertainment.

You have nothing against robots, you just think it's a shame to take jobs from people who genuinely need to work, but apparently: "robots aren't here to replace you, they're here to make it easier for you. Do not be scared, technology is good, we need it." You're not sure if you're okay with that, and you'll let it know when the robots take over the world.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost forget to get up to get out of the metro, these damn robots will end up making you miss your stop. Yes, sometimes it's much easier to blame the robots than it is to accept your responsibilities.

"Johnny, if you don't get out of the bathroom in a minute, I swear to god I'll make you swallow your camera!"

you growl, and you open your eyes. Why do you always have to wake up regretting all the decisions that brought you here, living with two roommates who are ready to tear their heads off at the first opportunity offered to them. "And I'll make you eat your books back if you do that!" you hear Johnny respond, and you wonder why the neighbors haven't filed a noise complaint yet. You would have done it since day one.

"Doyoung, you don't work Saturdays, why are you already up?" you ask in a voice loud enough to be heard, and what you didn't want to happen happens. The door opens, and your gaze meets Doyoung's, he has furrowed brows and dark circles, since when has he not slept? "For your information, young lady, I would be sleeping if Johnny hadn't knocked on my door at six in the morning to ask me for the time!"

"Not that I want to stand up for him, but you looked for it by setting his alarm clock to go off at five the other day." you answer, and he rolls his eyes as he walks into your room to drop into the bed, and you groan when his back blocks your legs. "Doyoung, I have to go to work, so if you could move that would be very nice." he doesn't move, and you wiggle your legs until you can free one. "As soon as I convince Taeil to give me a raise, I'll find myself another apartment and I won't have to deal with you anymore." you mumble, and Doyoung chuckles.

"Even if he agreed to give you a raise, which he won't do until he has published two more books, you won't leave. You don't like silence, and you will miss us too much after the first day." he's not wrong, but you could always find a new roommate. "It's okay, I'll find someone else. Someone who doesn't make me want to throw myself out the window every morning."

"If you need help finding a new roommate, ask us, we'll be happy to help." you sigh when you hear Johnny, and when you turn your head, you roll your eyes. Johnny is in the doorframe, a towel hanging low around his hips, and drops of water falling from his hair. "We'll find you someone good. Or someone worse than us, Doyoung and I will have to talk about it before we decide."

Before Doyoung can react, you free your second leg, grab your clothes for the day, and head to the bathroom, not without pushing Johnny out of the way. "Y/n, I'll make you eat your fucking books!" Doyoung growls as he straightens up, and you laugh. You know he can do it, but before that, he'll take the time to find the worst book in your book shelves to do it, so you'll have plenty of time to run away, change your identity and be forgotten.

You need less time than Johnny to shower, and to be ready to go. When you come out of the bathroom, you notice that the two boys are still in your room, and they are chatting as if they hadn't threatened each other less than twenty minutes ago. "Are you going to stay in my bed? Don't you have bedrooms, or a couch where you can talk?" Doyoung looks up, and he smirks. "Your bed is much more comfortable. We're talking about what to do with this room when you're gone." little shit.

"Well, since I'm apparently the only one working here, I'm going to go. See you tonight, or never." you get your bag that you throw on your shoulder and you stick your tongue out at Johnny who waves to you without moving from your bed, the sheets are going to be damp because of him, and you want to hit him for that, but that might make you late for work.

You leave the apartment, and like the day before, you quickly find the stairs leading to the underground metro, and unlike yesterday, it's more difficult to find your way through the students, workers and partygoers who have just returned from a party the night before. You concentrate on your breathing to avoid letting yourself be overwhelmed by the different smells of perfume, sweat, and alcohol.

When the doors slide open, you quickly get out of the train, and you find the outside. You never thought you would miss the clean air as much as since you started taking the subway to work. Since Taeil is away, the shop is still closed, and it takes you at least five minutes to find the keys in your bag, and for a second, you wonder if you haven't left them at home, but you sigh with relief when your fingers come in contact with the cold surface of a key.

You unlock the door, and walk into the store smiling at the familiar scent of old books piling up in part of the store. When you started working here, you asked Taeil what the old books were for, that they would never be sold, but now you see the charm of the old book with the damaged binding, the sound of the pages, and you wouldn't do without them. You put your bag on the counter, and you turn on the lights.

Taeil must have gone to the store before leaving, because you can find the boxes already behind the counter. You could have taken care of the delivery, but Taeil likes to check that everything is there, even if he might be late for an appointment that could really change his writing life, even if in your opinion, he is already quite popular and doesn't need more help.

You sit up when you hear the door open, and you open your mouth. "We're not open yet, sorry." you say, and if you expected the door to close, it stays open, and when you look at the person, your eyes open wide. This is the man who gave you your notebook back last night, and once again, he tilts his head far too slowly not to be awkward to watch.

“I'm LC27296,” he begins, but he shakes his head with a certain vigor that you would never have at this time of the morning. "I'm Ten, I'm going to work here." your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. For a minute, you forgot that you were supposed to take care of the new employee. "Taeil told me to come before the opening to make it easier." oh he did that?

"Before I introduce myself, I have a question for you. What were you doing here last night?" you ask and he suddenly seems nervous. "I- I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to make sure of how long it would take me to get here, so that I wouldn't be late for my first day." you hum, not sure you believe it, but it's not like you can accuse him of something without having any proof whatsoever. "Alright. I'm Y/n, I'll take care of teaching you how the store works until Taeil comes back in a few days. You can shut the door."

Ten does, and he approaches the counter, he doesn't seem in his element, but if Taeil hired him it's because he saw something in him. "Why did you give me numbers when I asked you for your name?" you suddenly ask, curious.

"Oh! It's my serial number, but I was told I had to introduce myself with my name, it makes it easier to fit in." a serial number, what the hell? You frown as you take your phone from the pocket of your jacket, and you open up the conversation with Taeil.

To Taeil: A serial number, what's wrong with the guy you hired?

Taeil must still be in the car, or on the train, since the answer is not long in coming. You shouldn't ignore Ten, but you need an answer before you decide whether you want to be locked up with a stranger all day, or not.

From Taeil: Ten is a robot. LSM sent me a letter a few weeks ago asking if I wanted to take any of them, and I said yes.

To Taeil: And you didn't find it useful to tell me that I was going to have to train a robot? And besides, aren't they already programmed to know how to do everything, why should I waste my time training him? Is this your way of telling me that I'm fired and that you will only hire bots from now on?

You don't get a response, which shouldn't surprise you, so you put your phone on the counter, and you meet Ten's gaze, who hasn't moved an inch. Did he himself on pause while you were busy? "So you are a robot?" you ask in a small voice, and he nods. "Yeah, you didn't know?" honestly no, even though LSM has some amazing quality robots you would expect to see them with bolts and metal.

"It's my first day away from the factory, and I'm very happy to be here!" he adds, and you roll your eyes, if he's happy that's the main thing, but you're not sure you are. "You can think of me as a human being like any other, no need to make a difference because I am superior to you." you gasp at him, but  you can't help but smile, stunned. "Just because you're made of metal doesn't mean you're superior to us. I'm sure if I throw water at you you'll rust and stop working, so in a way, I'm superior."

"You can try, but it won't work! That would be stupid to think we fear water, or fire, or anything for that matter, right?" oh, it might get hectic if he continues. "How about I show you how the store works? Because if we talk any longer, I might look for other ways to turn you off, and you wouldn't want that to happen, would you?" he shakes his head, a worried look on his face. Perfect.

You're going to have a serious conversation with Taeil, you think, showing him where the books go, how the cash register works, and where the storeroom is, storeroom that is also used as a rest room.

"For starters, you're going to go to the storeroom, and you're going to sort all the books alphabetically while sorting them by genre, can you do that, oh you superior robot?" you ask, tilting your head, and he shrugs his shoulders. "Of course I can do it!" Taeil never asked that the books in the storeroom to be sorted, since most are unsold books that will be donated to associations or the city library, but you don't want to have him in your legs when the first customers arrive.

You take your phone, and you send one last message to Taeil before turning on the light in the storefront indicating that the store is open.

To Taeil: This robot is an idiot, and if he pisses me off too much, I'm going to fire him whether you like it or not.

To make sure you don't receive an answer, you turn off your phone before throwing it in your bag before starting to put away the new books. And surprisingly, the morning goes off without a hitch. Ten comes out once or twice to ask you for advice on an unfamiliar book, the few customers who come in don't need your help, so that's nice.

When the time comes to close the shop for the next two hours, you enter the storeroom. Ten is sitting on the ground, and he's surrounded by books that should have been put away for a long time now, but the robot seems way too deep in reading to do the job you asked him to do. You frown. "Do you know that reading is not part of your contract?"

Ten doesn't react, he just turns the page and laughs at something he just read. "Taeil buys LSM magazines, I'll go check if I can't find an article on how to deactivate a robot if it becomes threatening." you say, and immediately Ten lifts his head to look at you. "But I'm not threatening!" he exclaims, like a petulant child would.

He may be a robot, but he has typically human reactions, which is strange in itself. At least for you. "They won't have to know when I throw your body in front of the factory you came from." you answer in a slow voice, and Ten finds himself on his feet, not without slipping a bookmark in his book so as not to lose his progress. "Sorry, I found this book, and it's so interesting I couldn't help myself."

You look at the title, and you smirk. You hide in the storeroom when you don't feel like coming home, and it's one of the books you've read. "If you don't want me to tell you who the killer is, you're going to finish putting those books away, and then I'll give you time to read until the store closes tonight, do we have a deal?"

He mumbles something between his teeth, but ends up nodding. You walk away from the room before remembering that you had a question for him, so you go back. "Do robots eat?" you wouldn't want to deprive him of his lunch break and end up with some sort of robots protection squad on your back for mistreatment. "Yes, we eat. I told you, we are like you."

"It's break time so you'll finish tidying up later." Ten passes over a pyramid of books, and he leaves the room, not without taking his book with him. "So, what are we going to eat?" he suddenly asks, and you want to take his book and hit yourself with it. "What do you mean, we?"

"Taeil told me you would take me out to eat with you so I wouldn't be alone in the store." Taeil should remember to tell you when he decides something, because you can't continue to be surprised every time he opens his mouth. "Did he say that?" a nod. "Great. I'm going home to eat, so I think you're going to meet the two most annoying people on this planet after you."

He squeals with delight and you roll your eyes as you pick up your bag. You exit the store by locking the door behind Ten, and you head for the subway train. "I love meeting new humans, you are all so fascinating!" you wonder what can be fascinating about humans, but for a robot, everything has to be. "What fascinates you so much about us?" you ask going down the stairs, being careful that Ten keeps following you, you don't feel like looking for a lost robot in the streets.

"We can feel emotions, but they're programmed for us, so it's not as real as when you feel them." human emotions are difficult to understand, humans are confusing. "I think it's pretty nice to be programmed to feel certain things, it's probably easier, less confusing."

"You're wrong," Ten starts to say, following you in the subway, he sits next to you not without looking at a little dog with stars in his eyes, as if he had never seen a dog in real life, so much so that you wonder if there are robot dogs, you'll have to ask him one of these days. "We're forced to feel the emotions, so we don't understand them. Being programmed doesn't mean we understand what's going on."

It's pretty sad, you think.

"Do you have a program that allows you to kill us if we becomes threatening for you?" you ask in a low voice so as not to attract the attention of the students around you. Ten's eyes widen and he chuckles. "No, we can't do that. We're not here to hurt you, just to help you." it's a shame, you would have needed it with Johnny and Doyoung.

"This is where we come down." Ten follows you to the door of your apartment. You can smell Doyoung's food already. He might be annoying, but when he's not working he always makes a snack for you for when you come home from work during the break, and that's very nice. "I live with two people, Johnny and Doyoung, they can be weird, and they might ask you tons of questions, so be prepared."

When you put your hand on the doorknob, Ten puts his hand on your wrist to stop you. "Wait, wait. Are they going to hurt me? Some humans can be mean when in the company of a robot." oh, he didn't sound so nervous earlier, but in a way you can understand that. "They're not mean, and they're quite fascinated by LSM's robots, so you have nothing to worry about, they won't do anything to you."

You open the door when he seems to be relaxing, and you sigh when you hear the loud voices that most likely come from the kitchen. "Johnny, how many times have I told you not to set foot in my kitchen? You're a walking hazard, you'll manage to set some water on fire if you wanted to! Get out!"

"Guys, I'm here. And I'm not alone, so if you could behave like normal people that would be really nice." you say and immediately Johnny's head pops out of the kitchen door jamb and you roll your eyes. "Oh hello mister stranger, who are you, are you our beloved Y/n's secret boyfriend?"

"I-" Ten seems unable to speak, and Johnny throws his head back when he notices the blush on Ten's cheeks as he lowers his head. "Oh, he's blushing! Adorable! He's in love but he hasn't had the courage to tell her yet. Doyoung, come see!" you should have known that they were going to mess with him. You should have warned them before you got home, threatened them, or promised to pay for the next pizza night.

"Shut up, big idiot! He's the new bookstore employee, we met this morning." you respond by swinging your bag in a corner of the apartment after removing your shoes. Ten does the same, and he follows you into the living room. You're pointing your index finger at the boys. "Johnny, Doyoung, this is Ten. He works with me."

"Oh, I didn't know Taeil was okay with hiring bots." Doyoung says, stunned. "How do you know it's a robot?" were you the only one who didn't have a clue? The only one that can't tell the difference between a robot and a human?

"It shows! And he's got LSM's name tattooed behind his ear." You'll have to go see the ophthalmologist to get glasses, because you didn't notice the black ink behind his ear. "Taeil didn't really hire me, it's just a contract for a couple of months to see how quickly I adapt to a new environment. Next time I'll be in a new place." oh, that's a detail you didn't know either, you thought Ten was here for good, at least until you got fired, or left.

"And can't you ask to stay at the bookstore for good?" you ask, sitting down in a chair, and Ten shrugs. "Why, have you already become attached to me? You refuse to see me go?" you could get up and hit him, but you don't want to break your fist if he is made of metal inside. "I said that because I wouldn't say no to less hours of work, dont think I appreciate you."

"She never introduced anyone to us, even casual employees, so you must be special." Johnny says winking at Ten, and you refrain from leaning over the table to hit him. "Taeil asked me to take care of him, what was I supposed to do, lock him in the storeroom with a piece of bread and a glass of water?"

"That's what you would have done with us, so yeah." he's not wrong, that's what you would have done if you had had Johnny and/or Doyoung as a colleague. "Anyway, we don't have all day, so if you could just leave Ten alone so we can eat." you mumble, but Ten shakes his head, apparently he doesn't mind being the center of attention. At least he knows that emotion, and he understands it, that's a good thing.

When it's time to go back to work, you almost have to pull Ten out of the apartment. "But why? I was having fun with your roommates!" of course he was having fun. "You can come back and see them if you want." you answer by going down the stairs. You have a little over thirty minutes left before you have to open the store, so rather than locking yourself in a subway train, you decide to walk.

"Really, you would let me come back?" you shrug your shoulders. "Why wouldn't I want to?" Ten plays with the hem of his hoodie, and you frown, he doesn't look like the type to be surprised or even slightly nervous over something as futil. "Because I wasn't very nice to you when I arrived this morning. But like I told you, some humans don't want us to fit in and want to harm us, and I heard so many stories that I defended myself if you ever decided to be like them."

"I don't understand robots, I don't understand LSM's motivation, but that doesn't mean I would hurt any of you. You should have waited, and you would have known it."

"I'm sorry Y/n, and I promise I'll do my job well until the end of my contract!" he exclaims, his smile back on his face. His beautiful face, moreover, you did not miss this detail. "I hope so, otherwise I won't give you time to read before closing." he gasps, but he laughs, and you have no choice but to laugh with him.

[the-lady-writes-what]

26. Mirio Togata

          Theme: Incubus

          Kinks: Wet dreams, somnophilia, non-con, rough sex, breeding

Yeah. I don’t know how male orgasms work, so this will probably be inaccurate. I’m not that big into actually having sex and I’m not in a comfortable level with my male friends how orgasms feel for them. I don’t know what else to tell you.

Very OC Mirio. And you know what else? He’s canonically 18.

Masterlist

Spread your legs for me.

This was a dream and a damned good one at that. Laying on top of you was a young man, ripped like a Greek god. He ordered you around with a honeyed voice. It worked like magic. You opened your legs and allowed him to slip between them. His large, protruding member grazed against your slit before parting your wet folds as powerful-looking hands stood on either side of your head. You stared up from your pillow and into the ocean-blue eyes leering at your body. He snagged your lower lip between his teeth and sucked. 

Your eyes snapped back to the blue ones staring at you. You licked your lips. Your mouth was parched; you couldn't speak. 

You dared to look down at the body shifting between your legs. You gaped at the small bulge in your lower belly, where the cock was fully seated inside of you. Hips snapped into you, making you arch your back of your mattress.

You feel good, don't you, sunshine?

Don't you worry. Let me take care of everything.

Your legs trembled the next morning. It was worse between your legs, and the muscles of your inner thighs ached with every step. Your lower back screamed at you. When you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you hardly recognized your own reflection. You were pale with dark circles under your eyes. You struggled to remember what time you went to bed. Your mind was running on two brain cells as you tried to work out what happened the night before. You remembered going to bed, but after that, you couldn't remember anything at all. Dreams weren't supposed to be remembered, yet it felt like you had one. In the back of your mind, you saw a man, a handsome man, sharing your bed. He was…inside you. His cock was pounding your insides like nothing else mattered to him except make you come hard. But you couldn't remember if he succeeded. 

You scrubbed yourself clean in the shower and ventured back to your bed. Carefully, you peeled back the covers. Sure enough, there was a wet stain. You quickly tore the sheets off your mattress and dumped them in the hamper. No one was going to see, but you felt better with a clean set. 

At work, people were already noticing the difference. 

"Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" Momo asked. 

"Hm?" Was all that you could manage. 

"You look like you pulled an all-nighter. Late-night project?" 

You shook your head. "No, just had a bizarre dream."

You flitted away before Momo could see the faint blush coming over your cheeks. You fueled yourself with coffee all day in an attempt to stay awake. A knock at your office had you snapping upright in your chair and spinning around to face the door. Mr. Toshinori stood in your doorway.

"L/N, do you have a second?"

You tried not to rub sleep from your eyes. 

"Sure, what do you need?"

"I'd like to introduce a new colleague to you. He just transferred from a different branch, so I'm showing him around. Togata, this is L/N-san."

You couldn't tell if blood drained from your face or sped towards your face. The other man in your office doorway looked uncomfortably familiar. He was broad as he was tall with a mop of blonde hair. His ocean-blue eyes beamed when he saw you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, L/N," said Togata. "I'm Mirio. Mirio Togata."

You slowly rose from your chair. You wondered if your skirt was long enough to hide your knocking knees. You reached out to shake his hand and instantly regret that decision. His palm was warm—no, hot. It was hot to the touch, and it took everything you had not to wrench your hand away. Mirio's fingers were giant compared to yours. He gripped your hand almost possessively, but with Mr. Toshinori in the same room, that much Mirio could do. The moment your hands touched, a shiver ran up your spine. You lurched forward and almost fell into Mirio's arms. You clamped your hand over your mouth to prevent your new co-worker and boss from hearing you moan. 

"L/N, what's wrong? You look sick," said Mr. Toshinori. 

"I think…I think I should go home. I'm not feeling so hot." You managed to stammer out. 

"By all means, L/N. If you're not feeling well, you should get some rest. I'll fill out the paperwork, and you can sign it off when you get back."

"Thank you, sir," you mumbled. 

Mr. Toshinori and Mirio left the room. You gathered up your stuff, signed out of your computer, and headed out. As you rounded the corner, you felt someone follow behind you. You turned to see Mirio a few steps at your back. 

"If you don't mind, I'd like to help you to your car. Mr. Toshinori was kind of enough to let me help you since you don't look so good," said Mirio.

"T-Thanks." 

Mirio stayed a few steps behind you rather than walk right at your back. Which you were grateful if anyone asked. The personal space was needed before you passed out. That all changed when you realized that you would have to take the elevator to get to the parking garage below, which meant you had to share it with Mirio standing within arm's reach of you. 

The elevator doors closed with a solemn grumble. Your heart pounded inside your chest. You glanced at Mirio from time to time, waiting for him to make a move. Although what should you be expecting? Were you that suspicious of a man you just met just because he looked similar to the one in your wet dream? Coincidence, you thought. It was all just a coincidence. You were silly, really. A niggling doubt in the back of your mind said otherwise. Mirio didn't just look similar to the man in your dream, he was too tentative, and the way his eyes followed you around should have shot up several red flags. You ignored it in favor of acting like a sensible, rational human being. 

Mirio caught you looking at him once or twice on the way down that seemed to take a century. He merely smiled and kept his hands to himself. If he indeed was the man from your dream, then he would hesitate to put his hands all over you the moment the elevator's doors closed shut. Someone like that wouldn't give a damn about the security cameras either. His smile made you melt; you were practically a puddle when you exited the elevator. Mirio followed behind as you sprinted for your car. You bit your lip. Was this such a good idea to let a strange know what kind of car you drive and what your license plate read? No, no, that couldn't be the same kind of man Mirio was. He was too polite for that creepiness. 

You made it to your car without further incident. Your heart still raced a mile a minute. Mirio stood in the periphery of your vision, never far from your sight. He remained a respectful distance away. 

"Thank you so much for your help. I hope we get to work on future projects together," you said as you fished your car keys out of your purse.

"Let me get the door for you."

Mirio moved so quickly that you didn't have time to protest. He plucked the keys from your hand, pressed the button that would unlock the car, and opened the driver-side door for you. Puzzled, you didn't think twice about the matter. You settled your stuff in the passenger seat next to you and buckled in. You bated your eyelashes without thinking anything wrong. A little flirting never hurt right. 

"Thank you," you said. 

"Not a problem." Mirio beamed. His smile could melt icecaps.

Shutting the door, Mirio leaned through the window you don't remember rolling down. 

"I'll see you tonight." His voice was velveteen. 

Your brows furrowed at his meaning. You were a deer caught in a pair of headlights when you turned to look at him. Those same ocean-blue eyes held a darker intent than merely working with you. It was the vastness of the open sea, cold and ruthless. His eyes were a void meant to suck you in and drown you in their maddening depths. Mirio's smile dimmed to a smirk, and he walked away. You watched him from your car how he turned away, walked back to the elevator, and climb inside. Before the doors closed him in, you swore that Mirio winked at you before disappearing. 

The rest of your day was a blur. You dressed in your favorite pajamas and hoped that some food and mindless channel surfing would solve all your problems. Not only were you not getting paid, but your excuse was also rather lame. As you sat on your couch and stared into your television screen, you wondered when was the last time you got a full night of sleep. You blanked. There had to be a time when you did, but you couldn't remember. Your brain was a jumbled mess, all thanks to those cursed dreams you'd been having. You couldn't even remember the last time you had an ordinary, non-sexy dream with a stranger you hadn't met until today. 

You almost loathed it when it grew dark. Night meant bedtime, and bedtime meant dreams. The longer your brain festered on those dreams, the more you grew to dread them. You looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you brushed your teeth. You took a more extended look at the dark circles beneath your eyes and the sullenness taking over your face. Were your cheeks always that shallow? You spat, rinsed, and turned off the light. 

Mirio slipped through every wall and door to get inside your apartment. He would climb through every fence in the world just to get to you. Your scent was absolutely divine; it drove him insane with want. He licked his lips as he broke past the last barrier keeping you from him. The path to the bedroom was easy and one that he knew like the back of his hand. Mirio mapped out your entire apartment during his nightly trips. 

You paused at your bedside before peeling back the covers. Slowly, you got beneath your blankets and pulled them up to your neck. For the longest time, you lay there stiff as a board under your blanket and sheets. Your eyes darted around the room just to see if your new co-worker was lurking there. You set your phone face down on the nightstand after fifteen minutes of you lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. You flipped your bedside lamp off with a sigh.

You closed your eyes, still expecting Mirio to slink in. The room was silent. The only noise you could make out were the soft footsteps from the people in the apartment above you and the gust of wind against your windowpane. A prayer fell from your lips that whatever was coming for you in the night would leave you be.

He stood at the foot of the bed to watch you sleep. You snuggled up to your blankets like a child seeking protection. A few pieces of cloth weren't enough to protect you from him. Mirio crept a bit closer. When he was stood beside you, he peeled away the blankets and sheets. Lavender wafted up to his nose. 

"Changed your sheets after last night, eh? You humans are so peculiar about your habitats. It is a shame, though. I might have wanted you to sleep a little longer in your come. Get you used to it. Oh, well."

His hands worked the buttons of your sleep shirt, and the silken fabric fell away with no more than a gentle tug. Your long bottoms made him scowl. How dare you hide your lovely from him. That alone deserved punishment. You murmured in your sleep as Mirio tugged your pants and underwear down in one go. Tonight, he had no intention of putting you back together again. You would sleep naked after he was done with you. The only thing he wished he could do was to see your face when you woke up and found yourself naked. No matter. Good things come to those who wait. 

Mirio wasted no time dishevelling his clothes. Being a demon, he could have easily dissolved them or faded through them. He wanted this to be special and want to remember every detail. The act of stripping down made him feel a bit more compatible with you, a human. It was pretend, a show. Eventually, you would see his proper form and tremble. For now, Mirio settled for having you like this, vulnerable to his power and entirely at his mercy. 

He climbed into bed with you and reclined on his side. His tongue ran across his lips just by looking at your body. You shivered in the cold. You should have stirred and awoken to your body bare of even a sheet to protect you from his gaze. Mirio's magic made it impossible for you to open your eyes unless he desired it so. You were going to belong to him shortly enough, but why spoil it now? Mirio thought himself cruel for dragging it out like this but admitted to liking this game.

Mirio ran a finger down the column of your throat and let it trail down to your belly button and back again. He hummed with delight as he touched your smooth skin. He palmed your breast and tweaked your nipple to a stiff peak. Mirio shifted on the bed until his lips found your neck and suckled. He kissed your shoulders and licked your skin. Mirio's large hands groped your chest. 

"You fill my hands up nicely, Y/N. Your body feels like it already belongs to me," he murmured against your skin. 

Mirio placed his knee against your cunt, rubbing your clit occasionally against the hard muscle. He drew your knees upwards and settled himself firmly between your legs. Kissing your lips, his hands never left your chest. While he kissed your mouth, his hands never ceased to pinch and massage your chest. His cock grew stiff, just thinking about what it would look like sandwiched in the middle of your perfect breasts. 

"More time for that later. Let's get down to business, shall we, sunshine?" 

Mirio lined his cock against your pussy, now soppy wet from his ministrations. He smiled to himself at how easy it was to manipulate your body towards his needs. If you had been awake, he imagined that your eyes would roll into the back of your head at the stretch. His cock slipped in with only a little resistance. Your walls clenched around his intrusion before easing up. His first thrust helped him bottom out. Mirio closed his eyes at the feel of your body wet, warm, and tight for him. For him alone. 

"That's my sunshine. That's my girl. Oh, yes," Mirio grunted.

His hands bruised your hips as he dragged you up and down his cock, forced it to meet him thrust for thrust. While you slept, your walls clamped down around Mirio's cock. He snapped his hips back and forth as he felt your strength leave your body and enter him. Call it 'tit for tat.' Mirio was giving your body all the pleasure it could ever need and the seed it so desperately wanted. The only price was just a little bit of your energy. Soon, very soon, Mirio wouldn't need to take any more from you. He would be able to have you all to himself, and no force on earth could stop him. 

Mirio adored the sweet squelching sounds your pussy made as he pounded into it. You were flooding him with your juices, and you didn't even know it. He couldn't wait to see what your eyes looked like when he pleasured your consciousness. Though your mind was too far gone to realize that it wasn't merely a dream, you couldn't wake up until Mirio wanted you to. This was the way of his kind, only most were one and done. Mirio needed more and more of you to himself. He couldn't stop after one feeding. The only way for him to keep you without draining away your life was a simple spell. All he had to do was get you pregnant. 

You were close; he could feel it. Pleasured seared down his spine and threatened to burst, but he wanted to hold out a little while longer. Mirio moved faster, faster. He saw the bruises forming on your hips, the tighter he held on. He would rather crush your hips than stop when you were both so close. Your cunt squeezed around him. 

"That's it, good girl. Squeeze me. I'm going to give you everything. Better not spill a drop."

You whined in your sleep as you arched your back. Mirio watched your face as it scrunched up. In pain or ecstasy, it was hard to tell the difference. Your body convulsed around him. Your floodgates opened to him and coated Mirio's cock with your come. It was more than enough to allow Mirio to do the same. The searing tingle shot down his spine and burst like an explosion. He stopped gripping your hips to seize hold of the headboard and hold it tight. Mirio shoved his cock in as far as it would go to ensure that none of his come leaked out. He could feel himself releasing so quickly that it made his head spin. When the final drop hit, he slowly, reluctantly, pulled away from your welcoming cunt. Your insides and your inner thighs were covered in him, just the way he liked. 

Mirio dressed then looked over his shoulder at your sleeping and battered form. There were bound to be questions when you woke up, but it was a shame he couldn't see it. He satisfied himself for now by kissing your forehead and whispering, "Pleasant dreams."

[some-dr-writings]

Shuichi, Kokichi, Kaito and Kiibo’s crush tries to wake them up, but accidentally naps with them instead

Shuichi Saihara:

·       You groaned, lifting your head off the table. Looking at your phone you found it was about three thirty. You lightly pat your cheeks and face, trying to wake yourself up. You barely had enough time to finish this project as it was, you could not afford to lose a moment to sleep. You looked down to your notebook, the scribble you had scratched down giving you a throbbing headache. “Sorry Saihara. W-what did I miss?”

·       … You got no response.

·       “Saihara?” You tried rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, looking up to finding your partner was asleep on the floor beside the table.

·       You sighed, slipping out of your seat. “C’mon sleepy head.” You kneeled down beside him, placing your hand on his arm, gently rocking him. “We need to get back to work.” A gigantic yawn escaped you. You couldn’t even stay on your feet, opting to lay next to Shuichi, still rocking his shoulder.

·       …

·       … As Shuichi woke up, he was confused as to what was on his face.

·       A paper?

·       It was a note stating that if you were asleep, to please wake you up so you both could get back to work.

·       Asleep?... Work?...

·       He abruptly sat up realizing he had fallen asleep as you were working. “Y/N I’m so-… Y/N?” He looked to where you were sitting, finding you were not there. He almost panicked before his gaze landed beside himself, where you were sound asleep. He stared at you for a moment, the cogs in his mind slowly turning before a furious blush exploded on his face. It was silly, but the mere thought of sleeping beside you sent his heart racing.

·       He took a moment to compose himself before waking you up. As you couldn’t help but notice how Shuichi would occasionally blush and how in those moments he’d look in any direction away from you. Though confused, you decided to leave that be, getting the project done was more important.

    Kokichi Oma:

·       “Oma!... Hey, Oma! Where are you!?” You sighed in frustration. Were you really just forced into a game of hide and seek? “Oma! Just come out here! Please… I’m REALLY not in the mood for any of your shenanigans right now.” It was evening and the campus was giant. You just wanted to eat dinner and go to sleep, but knowing Kokichi, if you ate without him he’d ‘punish’ you for ditching eating with your lovable dictator, with a day filled with nothing but pranks. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world but eating dinner with Kokichi to avoid that wasn’t so bad. He was a good friend; albeit clingy at times.

·       You searched around for any sign, uproarious laughter, perhaps a scream or the boy’s signature troublesome Nishishis. Maybe even Kirumi or some staff at the school cleaning up some giant mess. Yet you found nothing, no matter where you looked. Every classroom, every hall, every closet, every lab, every field, you found no sign of the supreme leader anywhere.

·       Tired and hungry after having ran around for so long you leaned against a wall, sliding down against it till you were sitting. A cool breeze rolled past, catching your eye as it shifted the grass, lines of tiny bright reflections of that deep orange setting sun racing across the ground. Well… even if you would up getting endlessly pranked for skipping out on dinner, this view of the empty field was well worth it. Simply gorgeous with those rays harshly cast against the mountains, trees, and buildings off in the distance. You watched for a while, letting yourself get lost in it.

·       But then. As the wind picked up, you heard something. In looking for it, you found that unmistakable checkered infinity scarf Kokichi always insisted on wearing with his school uniform in a tree. You quickly climbed up finding Kokichi asleep amongst the branches, slightly shivering with chattering teeth, the strange sound you heard. “Hey, Oma. It’s dinn- AAH!” Somehow you were pulled onto the branches with such a strong, viper like grip the air was knocked out of you momentarily. Next thing you knew Kokichi was curled up atop you, hugging you tightly as he nuzzled into you. “Well… I guess this is my life now.”

·       …

·       With a loud yawn and a stretch, Kokichi sat up. It was rather dark out, nightfall. Perfect, he successfully avoided curfew so he could set up his prank in the gym. Though his hiding place in the tree was notably much more comfortable and soft than he had recalled. Then he suddenly realized why that was. He was very confused as to how you had gotten yourself into the position of being his pillow, but he simply shrugged his shoulders, sure you’d tell him later. Instead he laid back down, quietly snickering, giddy out of his mind.

·       He decided to stay asleep and set up that prank some other night as he snuggled into you, his smile absolutely beaming.

    Kaito Momota:

·       You loved your body. You always worked out, exercise, ate healthy, and rested well. You never found any of this to be a chore, it was always fun for you. Pushing past your limits to see if you could get any better. It was like you were always challenging yourself, always in a competition and you were determined to always come out on top, to be the best! It was for those exact reasons Kaito admired you.

·       The moment after meeting you he practically insisted you be friends and train together. As much as you liked the guy, he infuriated you to no end. HE ALWAYS SKIPPED OUT ON TRAINING! He could be so much better, but he never tried! The few times he did, he actually gave you a run for your money, but it was only on the most rare of occasions he’d put in enough effort to do so. Why was he like this you wondered. It was just so dumb. You could not see why anyone would not want to keep pushing themselves if they were that good!

·       The testing period was coming around, and you! Were! Ecstatic! You could always motivate yourself but getting the opportunity to show off how much you improved!! This was the best! And since Kaito was being tested too, you got to train with him when he was going all out and it was amazing! You’d both challenge one another helping one another push the other to keep going even when you wanted to stop and rest.

·       One night you decided to do push-ups and see who could do more. You were so focused on yourself you weren’t keeping track of how Kaito was doing. Though you did know that neither of you was going to last for too long, given you had been challenging one another like this all day so you were rather exhausted.

·       After some time you lost count, and quickly after you collapsed, unable to push up any more. Out of breath you rolled onto your back, finding Kaito was out of breath, laying against the ground. “Heh, l-lost count. How, how many you got?” “Uh… don’know.” “Rematch tomorrow?” “Yeah! And let’s get Makiroll and Shuichi to join.” “Hah, I, I think they’d just end up keeping count for us!” Kaito rolled onto his back, landing right next to you.

·       Watching the stars, you lightly chatted, feeling that sleepiness slowly but surely taking hold of our mind. You tried telling Kaito that you should hit the showers and get to bed, since staying out in the cold, covered in sweat would likely get you guys sick. But neither of you were up for moving and you’d also get so absorbed in listening to Kaito speak of his dreams and space and you’d end up forgetting all about that.

·       …

·       Kaito slowly awoke, greeted to the brilliant sight of the rising sun. For a moment he was thinking of challenging you to running some laps when he realized that he was seeing the sun rise, he was not in his dorm. He also realized he held someone in his arms. You, the very person he was just thinking about… As he thought more about it something dawned on him. He thought of you a lot, much more than others, and you always inspired him, getting him to want to seek you out and spend time with you.

·       Did he have a crush on you? He decided he’d tell you after you had woken up, after all, you needed rest for all the training you’d be doing together… and maybe as partners if you liked him too… Having a partner like you… he rather liked that thought.

    Kiibo:

·       “Kinda feels weird drinking this in the day. I usually just have this when I’m trying to get to sleep.” “I don’t believe hot milk and honey have any sleep inducing properties. How does it help?” You though for a moment, humming as you took a sip of that soothing sweet drink. “It’s calming…” You gently rocked the mug, seeing that white liquid swirl around, almost reaching the rim and spilling out. “Say, Kiibo, since you don’t need sleep, do you ever dream, like have night terrors or something?”

·       The pair of you sat in your kitchen, you huddling near the oven, a mug of hot milk and honey in hand, desperately seeking warmth since the heater in your apartment broke. You glanced to the window, seeing that gray landscape dusted with white, like dusted powdered sugar over abeleskivers.

·       “No, I don’t believe so. When I recharge, I do reexperience all my memories from last I recharged, but that’s for sorting out where those memories are to go in my memory bank.” “Hmm… So nothing new. No memories mixing and melding together. No warped past. Nothing to send you back years ago to worse times. No fears or terrors resurfacing. No…” “Y/N?” “Ah! Sorry, guess I just got lost in thought for a moment there.” You nervously chuckled, taking another sip of your drink, hoping it’d calm your nerves.

·       “A-anyway, we still up for meeting next week?” “Yes! I’m always free for our weekly hangouts.” “I know, just making sure. I don’t want to have to go through all the trouble of setting up all your recharging equipment only for you to not show up.” “I- That was only once! And that only happened because Oma found my address and thought it was a brilliant idea to lay pranks all through the house and lab!” You chuckled, seeing Kiibo so easily get flustered. “I’m only teasing. Go and recharge now, I’m sure Idabashi is missing you and want’s you back home already.” Placing the mug on the counter you went over to the corner of the room where strange, misshapen looking equipment lay, you plugging it in set a few lights to gently blink on. “I’ll be doing chores if you need me, go and rest now.” Kiibo happily obliged, quickly getting out of your way, secluding himself in the corner.

·       …

·       Suddenly his emergency system went off, forcing him to turn on, and he awoke to the sound of a scream, then heavy breathing. “Y/N!” You were on the floor. He raced to you, but you flinched away, looking absolutely horrified. “K-Ki-Ki-Kiibo? Kiibo. I-” You placed a hand over you heart, taking deep breaths, trying to slow them as to not start hyperventilating. “What happened. How are you?” He moved slowly, kneeling beside you. “I…” You looked around, seemingly confused as to where you were for a moment. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You winced patting your head, feeling a bump at the top. It was then you noticed the broken vase by the high shelf you were dusting. “Ah… so I was knocked out. Explains why it was worse than usual.” You sighed, lightly shaking. “Y/N, what’s worse than usual?” Kiibo placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to tense up for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. “… You know things weren’t so good a few years back. And… I have nightmares. Frequently. Remember how I was always napping in High School?” He nodded. “Well, my therapist and I were experimenting with medication, seeing which could repress the nightmares and get me enough sleep at night and NOT day, but… clearly it took us a while to figure it out.” You nervously laughed recalling the many times you had fallen asleep in class, or at the cafeteria, or during P.E. or when walking to class or in any number of other places, only for Kiibo to wake you. The first few times he’d reprimand you, but after getting closer you opened up about your past a little and how you were on medication because of it. “But you never told me you had night terrors.” “Well… I would have told you if it had come up, but it just never did.”

·       “Here, rest on the couch, I’ll call the hospital and clean the vase.” “Hey, I’m fine. I just need an-” “Oh no! You are going to see a doctor! That’s final! You got hit hard enough to be knocked unconscious for who knows how long! You are seeing a professional!” Knowing there was not going to be any way of convincing Kiibo otherwise you accepted your fate and waited to see if you got a concussion or not.

·       “Happy now?” “Yes! Now we know you are alright for certain.” You shivered, tugging on our scarf. You glanced up, recognizing the building you were approaching. “Sorry for my clumsiness making you late for getting home. Tell Idabashi that and he still doesn’t have to make a better heating system for the whole building.” “I’ll tell him, though I’m not sure he’ll listen. See you, Y/N.” “See you next week.” Kiibo simply watched you leave till you rounded the corner, out of sight… Strolling to the door he thought of those days in High School. You likely never told him before, not wanting him to worry or shed those days in a different light, but you told him now, so you trusted him. Back then you had slowly opened up to him, and… well… it hurt knowing you still had secrets from those times locked away, but it was completely understandable as to why. Kiibo just wished there was something he could do to help you.

·       You fell face flat on the couch, exhausted from another taxing day at work. You grumbled, hearing your phone, thinking it was your boss calling you AGAIN with the exact same information they had been nagging you about all day. You were relieved to see it was just Kiibo. “Hey, Kiibo. What’s up?” “What I mailed you, do you not notice it? It’s supposed to be as if it were your own skin.” You stripped off your stuffy suit seeing the sticker like ring that wrapped around your wrist and the square patch that you placed over your heart as instructed, the tiny lights on it in a heart shape lighting up in time with what you assumed to be your actual heart. “Yep.” “Good. Could I stay over for the night tomorrow?” “Hmm? Well… My schedule should be clear, but I thought you’d get enough of me in one day. Now you want to stay the night. You realize I’ll be asleep, so it’ll be boring, right?” “Yes! That’s the plan at least!” “… Huh?” “Thank you! I’ll see you tomorrow!” You were confused with the call being ended so abruptly. You were disappointed, not getting the chance to ask why Kiibo was using these to keep track of your vitals, but you didn’t have long to dwell on it, seeing moments later your boss was calling.

·       Thankfully the next day you were able to relax, gleefully chatting with Kiibo and exchanging brief words with Idabashi, Miu and Soda as they went about installing a new heater in your apartment before moving on to ‘improving’ the place as they saw fit effectively kicking you and Kiibo out for a few hours to wander around town. When returning you were expecting to not recognize the place, but it seemed Idabashi was actually able to restrain Miu and Soda from transforming our entire building. Idabashi was even kind enough to leave out some tea for you.

·       “Okay, can I finally ask why you’re keeping track of my vitals?” You pointed to your wrist then chest. “I’m seeing how you are normally and comparing it to when you have a nightmare. That way, I can see the signs and wake you up before you can even dream it! You still have nightmares, even if the medicine lessens the severity, I don’t want you to have them all together! So I’ll wake you up before you can have one!” “… Kiibo.” You smiled, but it wasn’t happy, Kiibo couldn’t quite tell what it was expressing. “Well I guess it couldn’t hurt to try, but won’t you get bored just waiting for me to get a nightmare?” “No need to worry! I have plenty to occupy myself with, though for this first night, and other first few if this works out and we keep doing this, I’ll solely be paying attention to you!” “Hmm… seems kinda weird, but… Sure.”

·       Kiibo sat beside you bed, lost in thought, hoping this would work. You deserved to have a restful night’s sleep. This had to work! And he was going to make it work! He never had a nightmare before, but… it sounds horrifying for one’s own mind to conger up terrifying specters of any kind, digging up the past even if it was long dead and buried, unable to escape. One top of that, in his research Kiibo had learned of sleep paralysis and the supposed ‘demon’ many spoke of seeing. He wondered if you had experienced that. He feared he’d wake you into that state, if he’d appear to you as the demon. The longer the night wore on the more Kiibo’s fears kept pilling and pilling, to the point he was questioning this plan.

·       That was till he was snapped to attention, noticing the signs of a nightmare starting. He gently rocked your shoulder, softly speaking to you. You flinched and softly gasped. “Ah… hey Kiibo.” “How are you doing?” “Uh… feeling kinda funky but… better than last I awoke in the night.” “Good. Huh, wait, why are you sitting up?” You mumbled ‘warm milk and honey’ as you shuffled out of the room. After heating the milk, you went straight back to bed. Nursing the mug, you and Kiibo chatted about nothing, mostly doing so to fill the stagnant air. Soon though, with a yawn, you placed the mug on the nightstand.

·       Your movements were slow, your hand lingering on the handle before retracting it. “Kiibo.” “Yes.” “It feels weird having you just sit around, and I’m still feeling kind of off, would you get into bed with me?” Kiibo froze, a studder escape him, completely caught off guard by the request. “YES! U-uh, well… I did some research and there are lots of health benefits of sleeping with someone you have a great attachment too, like someone you love, so, I- uh… y-yeah… if it’ll help.” His voice wavered and his entire face flushed a bright red. However, in your sleepy state you didn’t completely take in what he said, more so confused why he looked different, but he said ‘yes’ so it was fine… you thought. You scooched over and lifted up the quilt… Though it didn’t leave much room given it was a single person bed. Hesitantly Kiibo slid under the sheets, having to lightly press against you as to not fall off the bed. “A-are you comfortable?” “Uh huh.” You simply pulled the chain attached to the lamp on the head stand, shutting it off.

·       Internally Kiibo was screaming, panicking, having no idea what to make of this situation. Especially more so when you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. Did you like him back? Were you just acting like this because you were tired, or were you already asleep and didn’t even realize it? Wait he could just check, but then you’d be doing this subconsciously so then was it possibly you liked him and you didn’t even know it? Kiibo sent himself into a panic as these and other questions of similar nature raced through his mind.

·       …

·       Then he awoke. Sunlight shone through the curtains, softly illuminating the room. After a moment of his systems turning on, he realized he shut off due to overheating, likely due to you hugging him and OH FUDGE! He flipped over finding you drowsily opening your eyes. “hmm? Oh, hey Kiibo.” You yawned, sitting up and stretching. “… Don’t know how the night actually went, but I’m feeling great.” “You are!” “Yeah. Guess your plan worked. Thanks, Kiibo. Guess I can actually get sleep once a week now, so that’s good progress.” You chipperly smiled, crawling over him as to get dressed for the day. Leaving Kiibo stunned, a bright blush dusting his cheeks, a goofy smile plastered on his lips. So it worked! Or was it sleeping with him… Kiibo really needed to stop this line of thinking before he overheated again. Though if him sleeping with you helped…

·       You sat at the kitchen table, eating some breakfast as Kiibo sat beside you. “Hey, Kiibo. I’m guessing you could probably see this since you can compare it to other nights, but… well, even if I didn’t have a nightmare, it was nice to wake up and not be alone. This is a small apartment, but… it can still get creepy. Especially if you can’t move. So again, thank you.” “… Then, if I helped so much, maybe I could stay with you every night.” “If you did that, you might as well as move in.” Kiibo fell silent for a moment, thinking. “Dr. Idabashi likes you, and we have plenty of room back home. You could move in with us!” “… Wait, you’re serious?” “Yes, I’m being serious! Let’s do it!”

·       If he could help you, Kiibo would do just about anything. Though… if you were going to move in together, he should probably confess, as to not let you find out later and you possibly think he had you move in under false pretenses.

·       “Um, b-but, before you can, I have to tell you something!”

·       He just hoped this would go well.

[auroracalisto]

something there—chapter one

summary: the reader is a part of a great prophecy revealed to geralt and jaskier by an unnamed witch.  the only problem?  well, see, there’s multiple.  she doesn’t believe that it’s her, and she lives in 2020.

pairing: hinted jaskier x geralt, nothing really more than that, future jaskier x reader x geralt

word count: 1.7k words

warnings: mmmmm cussing.  like i probs dropped the f-bomb five times in one sentence.  female reader.  other than that, nothing.

author’s notes: i legit got this idea while driving home after work and it took me forever to figure out what i want to do with this (at least with the first chapter).  i hope to continue this, but i’m not sure how often i’ll be able to pump out parts for this.  i am super excited for this tho.  i cannot tell you how many geralt and jaskier stories i have read....... and we are not going to discuss this here.  i hope you all enjoy!!!  also i’m trying out a different format for my posts?  summary + little snippet of story if it’s a longer one?  and then the pushed out part uh

"Aren't prophecies supposed to rhyme?"

The witch looked at Geralt with an exasperated expression, before she cleared her throat.  "The two of you," she said, looking at both the Witcher and the bard, "need to find a girl with a profound knowledge in music and storytelling. A virgin maiden from lands far, far away, with a heart big enough for two others."

Jaskier looked towards Geralt, a confused look spread across his face.  

"She will help you find what it is you're looking for," she said, pointing towards the Witcher as she spoke.  "When you wake, the two of you will be teleported to her lands.  Her heart is pure enough to help you with your journey.  Her soul as pure as the driven snow.  You will have two weeks to convince her to travel back with you, and you will be able to continue with your own travels.  Or, you will be stuck in her lands until someone from our world goes searching for the lost Witcher and his bard."

"Woah, woah, woah," Jaskier held up his hands, frowning deeply at the woman.  "Teleported?  Her world—pardon?"

The witch just smiled at him.  In just a moment's time, she disappeared from in front of the two and Jaskier and Geralt were left, stewing in the prophecy she left them with.  

[]

[Your name] woke to the soft chirping of birds coming from the outside of her window.  She slowly peeled her eyes open, groaning softly.  She had stayed up until five in the morning, once again, working on a never-ending project.  It was only ten in the morning, but she had to be awake so she could call her boss and figure out what it is that she needed to do next.  The woman slowly got out of bed and placed her feet on the bed.  However, she took one step forward and she went tumbling to the floor after tripping over someone.  

"What the—"

[Your name] quickly turned around and her eyes grew wide at the sight of a man lying in her floor.  He had quickly sat up, knocking his head against her bedside table.  With a groan, he put a hand to his forehead, looking around.  His face grew pale.  "What—"

"Who the fuck are you?" [Your name] quickly asked, scrambling to her feet.  She took a couple of steps back, her heart pounding in her chest.  

The man's eyes widened as he looked over at the woman.  She began to notice how he was dressed—it reminded her of the old historical dramas she used to watch every Sunday with her grandmother.  

"Who the fuck are you?" [Your name] repeated.  

"Jaskier..."

"Okay, Jaskier, why the fuck are you in my bedroom?"

He let out a curt laugh and he leaned himself up against her bed.  "How the hell am I supposed—" he stopped himself, hurriedly getting to his feet.  "Geralt?!"

"What?" [Your name] paled.  There was another man in her apartment?  Not to mention, her quite run down apartment?

White hair became visible in her line of vision and she quickly backed up to her wall.  "What the fuck?" she breathed out.  "Who the fuck are you?  How did you get in my house?  Where's my fucking phone?"

[Your name] quickly rushed to her bedside table, grabbing it off of the charger.  She went to dial 911, only to discover that her phone was completely shut off.  The black screen never lit up.  She looked towards the men, trembling.  

The white haired man, known as Geralt, began to frown.  "We need to talk to you."

"How the fuck did you get in my house?" Geralt frowned even more.  "A witch."

[Your name] blinked a couple of times.  "Excuse me?  Are you fucking dumb?"

Jaskier snorted under his breath as he looked over at the Witcher.  

"No.  I'm not.  We need to talk to you."

[Your name] looked back down on her phone, just to make sure it wasn't just lagging.  It was an old phone, and sometimes, it would do that.  She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes.  She had nothing anymore—no family, a crappy apartment, and an especially crappy job that she was constantly pulling all-nighters for.  [Your name]'s gaze switched from Jaskier to Geralt before she gave a small nod.  

"I... fine," [Your name] said, swallowing thickly.  "Fine.  But," she looked down at her clothes and blushed even more.  "Get out of my room.  I need to at least change my clothes—"

"—that's what you're calling that?" Jaskier smirked at her.

Her eyes widened and she nearly shoved his arm.  "Get out."

Geralt had already left, and Jaskier couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.  He left the room.  [Your name] quickly shut the door and pressed her back up against the wood.  Her heart throbbed in her ears and throughout her body.  Surely, she was just hallucinating and having a heart attack.  A stroke, maybe.  Could it have been a manic episode?  

[Your name] went over to her clothes and quickly pulled out a pair of jeans and an over sized hoodie.  She combed out her hair and ran to the bathroom to brush her teeth before she came out into the hallway.  The men weren't there.  Perhaps it truly was just a bad dream.  She frowned and walked out to her living room/dining room/kitchen—three in one.  She saw the two sitting at the table.  Jaskier had quickly pulled his hand away from Geralt's, who just pulled his hand closer to his body rather than completely pull it off the table.  [Your name] blushed and went towards her kitchen.  

"Do you... do you guys want anything?"

"Being hospitable now, are we?" Jaskier sent her a smile.  

"You're both sitting at my dining room table.  Why wouldn't I?"

Jaskier rose his eyebrow, but he didn't say anything else.  

While she made a pot of coffee, he curiously watched her while Geralt looked around her small home.  He had quite a few comments to make, but his face would never show it.  [Your name] poured herself a cup of coffee and made it just how she liked before she hesitantly came over and sat down across from the two.  She cleared her throat, her finger tips gently tapping at the warmed mug before she spoke.  

"Who are the two of you?"

"Geralt of Rivia.  This is Jaskier."

She rose an eyebrow, slightly nodding.  "My name is [Your name]."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jaskier grinned, "[Your name].

"Wish I could say the same," she meekly grinned.  "Can you please tell me how you got in my apartment?"

"Like I said," Geralt cleared his throat.  His voice was deep—part of [Your name] wanted to melt at the sound.  "A witch sent us."

[Your name] fought the urge to roll her eyes, but this did not go unnoticed by the Witcher.  He kept his eyes on her, quiet as he did so.  

"A witch sent you.  To my cheap ass apartment.  Likely story."

"He's not lying," Jaskier said.  "He's telling nothing but the truth."

"Yeah?"  This time, she did roll her eyes.  "Prove it."

"Our clothes are not enough?" Geralt asked.  "You are not from the lands we hail from.."

[Your name] looked at their clothes once more.  She had noticed Jaskier's earlier, but the more she looked, she realized how old fashioned they looked—how worn they seemed.  [Your name] crossed her arms over her chest.  She hesitantly looked towards Geralt and gave a small nod.  

"Alright.  I'm listening."

Geralt looked towards Jaskier.  Jaskier returned his gaze and he pursed his lips.  

"Are you going to tell her?"

Geralt huffed softly.  "Yes.  This witch.  We went to her for guidance.  We've been looking for a way to defeat..." he stopped for a moment, looking at Jaskier again.  "To defeat an enemy for some time.  She sent us... here, with a prophecy."

"And?"

Geralt looked at her.  

"What's the prophecy?" she asked, sipping at her mug of coffee.  The steam rose and warmed her chilled face.  Only now did she realize how cold it had gotten in her apartment.  Her heating bill must have failed again.  She cleared her throat, looking at Geralt again.  "Well?"

He frowned.  "A virgin—" Just with that, [Your name] choked on her coffee and she began to blush.  "What?"

This caused a small smirk to form on Geralt's face.  Jaskier saw this and he couldn't help from his smile forming.  

"We are to convince a virgin maiden from lands far away to come back with us to defeat our enemy." he said.  They are profound in music and storytelling."

"Definitely not me," [Your name] blushed.  I'm not profound in anything."

"Ah, so you are a virgin?" Jaskier grinned over at her.  

[Your name] just shot him a look as her blush darkened.  "What else?" she asked, looking back at Geralt.  

"They are to have a heart big enough for two others...  I am still not quite sure what that refers to.  Her heart is pure enough to help us." the Witcher spoke.  He looked towards Jaskier once more.  

Something just told [Your name] that there was something going on between the two—the looks they continued to share made her heart melt in a good way.  Every look was filled with love—one that she wasn't familiar with, but one that she would love to learn to expect from someone.

"We have two weeks to convince her to travel back with us.  Her soul is said to be as pure as the driven snow."

"Alright, alright, but," [Your name] sat her mug down, stuffing her hands in her sweatshirt pocket to keep them warm.  "What does this have to do with me and my apartment?"

"Perhaps you are the one to help us find her," Jaskier said.  

Geralt nodded.  "That is what I have come to understand."

[Your name] tilted her head back as she thought, taking in a deep breath.  "Right.  So.  Two totally hot men show up in my house and tell me I'm supposed to help them with some damned prophecy?" [Your name] looked straight at Jaskier.  "Are you sure I'm not having a stroke?"

He stared at you for a moment before he grinned.  "Hot?  Is there a reason to refer to us as hot?"

[Your name] eyes widened a bit and she shook her head.  "Just ignore that I said that.  You don't know what it means, do you?  God," she groaned softly and squeezed her eyes shut.  Clenching her jaw, she spoke one last time before grabbing her coffee mug.  "Fine.  What is it you need me to do?"

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Two

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 2.2k

After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you open your eyes to see other students begin to filter into the large auditorium. The little wooden desks that flip out from below the seats force people to squeeze past each other and give awkward sorries. Coming from calc, you thankfully don’t have to do the awkward shuffle as you came straight from a nearby building. While watching the students trickle in, you notice that many hold coffee in their hands and you suddenly are incredibly jealous… that guy from your last class wasn’t wrong in his assumption of your night owl status.

You sigh, and pull out your laptop to pull up the syllabus for the class. You were slightly nervous for this class, as it was completely out of your comfort zone. You hadn’t yet settled on a major, so you were knocking out some general classes while you were a freshman. And now, you were sitting in an Intro to Composition class to fulfill your creative work requirement. You really didn’t have experience with music in any formal sense, but you always loved to listen to music as you did basically anything. You found that music helped make the more unpleasurable bits of life more bearable. And the good bits, well, they always seem to have a good beat behind them too.

While you begin to look at some of the upcoming projects and their due dates, you feel the seat below you shift as someone occupies the seat next to you. When you glance up, you first see that since you pulled your laptop out, the lecture hall had quickly filled up. Your eyes dart over to your new seat buddy, and you can’t help but feel your eyes widen a bit. It was a boy with a slight build, but definitely a powerful aura. From your view, the sharpness of his jawline coupled with his soft looking cheeks was enough to inspire Michelangelo himself, you thought. While he was bent over slightly pulling out his desk, you shifted your eyes to look at his. He had soft eyes, and you could just barely tell he added a bit of a peach shadow and mascara to his look. Framing his face was inky black hair that was gelled to perfectly hang just to the edges of his dark brows.

Not wanting to get caught staring, you drag your eyes away from him and back to your laptop. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and willed it to recede --- you’ve had enough of embarrassing yourself today, you thought. Why oh why God, did you send freaking male models to your university, and not only that, but make them attend the same classes as you!

You quickly snap out of your thoughts as you hear a voice come from close to your right side. Eyes going from your laptop to the speaker, you realize it’s the boy next to you that spoke.

“Hey, just so you know I think your bag is caught on the chair, and looks like it’ll spill…”

His voice is more light and melodic than you anticipated from his angular features, but you don’t really fully process the thought before you realize that yes, your bag is precariously hanging from the edge of the chair between you, and it looks like your notebook and pens are about to end up scattered across the lecture hall. You gasp and grab your bag before it dumps, and lift the strap to untangle it.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, I’m sorry!” Your words rush out of your mouth as you zip the bag to prevent further disaster. How embarrassing, you groan to yourself internally.

He lets out a tinkling giggle, “No worries, happens to the best of us.” Said with a smile, he makes you feel better about the awkward situation almost immediately.

You smile back at him, “I suppose that’s true”. His grin widens a bit at your reply, and you notice his eyes squinch up to the point where they seem to disappear a bit, which you have to admit is incredibly endearing.

“My name’s Jimin!”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you!” Your smile gets larger at his introduction, it’s nice to be making a friend in a class that you already feel out of your depth in, and not to mention one that is as kind and not at all bad to look at.

“You too! So, what year are you? I’m a second year.” His smile never left his face.

“Oh, I’m only a first year actually!” You hated having to tell people you were a new student, honestly, but you kept your smile hoping he wouldn’t tease you too hard for it.

“Aw, you’re just a baby! Don’t worry, sunbae will take care of you!” His smile definitely had a cheshire quality to it now.

“Is that a promise sunbaenim?” You smirked back at him. While your words were formal, you were quick to pick up his flirty nature and turn it around on him. You saw his eyebrow lift in amusement at the subtle double entendre, and just as he was about to respond, a much louder voice cut him off from the front of the hall.

“Good morning everyone. Welcome to Intro to Composition. I am your professor, Doctor Choi. To my side here is this class’s learning assistant, Yoongi.” At this he swings his arm around to gesture to a boy giving a flat smile and nodding his head in greeting, his hands in his front pockets in a kind of forced relaxed stance.

“He is a fourth year student and is here to answer any questions you may have about the class material, as this is a rather large class.” The professor continues on, but you only give it partial attention, half because of already reading the syllabus, and half because you were getting a good look at the LA he introduced.

Yoongi was standing towards the wall of the auditorium, seemingly not wanting to be the center of attention. He wouldn’t have pulled your attention so much if it wasn’t for his gorgeous feline-like features that gave him an elegance, despite his slightly awkward demeanor. The glasses perched on his nose and the dark bangs swooped gently over his forehead gave beautiful contrast to his pale skin and pink lips. The silver hoops in his ears that reflected the overhead fluorescents gave him more of an edgy vibe, and it seemed to suit him well.

As it seems, Jimin thought so too. You turned to glance at your new friend to see him eyeing the LA you yourself was just examining. You watched him pull in one of his plush lips to pull it lightly with his top teeth. The quick action made you lift your brow in amusement. The introverted LA appeared to have a fan club in you and Jimin. After a quick glance around the room, you saw most of everyone beginning to type notes or watch your professor with way more attention than you or Jimin were giving him.

At this, you quickly refocused on the lecturer. Lord knows you need to pay attention to do well in this class with the zero experience you had with the material.

----

75 minutes later, the distinct sound of students shuffling as they put away their things and exit the room rings out. You and Jimin follow suit.

“What do you think of the first project that he introduced today? I’m a little nervous to be honest.” You look up from your bent over position to see Jimin’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as he expresses his concern.

“Yeah, me too. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with this stuff so it’ll definitely be a learning process.” Slipping into a conversation about the class was completely natural to you two. It seemed you two clicked as friends right off the bat.

“Tell me about it. I’m a freaking dance major, not a music major!” He let out a grown and tipped his head back as you both walked together out of the lecture hall.

“My advisor recommended this course to me because she said that some dance majors find it useful to learn about music construction, because it can help them be better at moving to the music. And because I tend to focus on contemporary, it makes sense. I’m just worried about not doing well in the class itself.” As he spoke, his face slipped into a cute pout.

His pout made you giggle, which you tried holding back behind your hand but he heard you before you were able to.

“What is so funny? Is my life struggle really that comedic to you hoobae?” He couldn’t hide the smile on his face, knowing how dramatic he was being. The slight giggle in his tone gave him away too.

“Of course not, I would never belittle your struggles, sunbae. You must have it so hard. Dancing requires an immense amount of brainpower, I don’t know how you are able to walk around with how big your brain is!” You widen your eyes for dramatic flair as you fight your lips from quirking up.

He stops dead in his tracts, and turns to you with his eyes nearly bulging out of his head at your sarcastic reply.

“Ya! Kids these days show no respect for their elders!” He bumps his hip into yours after catching up to you, “I’ll have you know I was class president for nine years in school! And valedictorian! And this is how I get treated!”

You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat and turn to him. “Were you really, sunbae? That’s amazing!” His easy-going attitude definitely didn’t leave you with the impression that he was that dedicated to his studies.

Now slightly sheepish, he shrugs. “Yeah, it’s true. I was a model student back then.”

Looking forward, he gives a bit of a bitter smile to himself. “You are wondering why I became a dance major, I imagine.”

Sensing the slight sensitivity to the topic, you shake your head as you answer, “Well, who am I to judge who does what major when I can’t even decide on one for myself?” You give him a shy smile.

By this point, you were both strolling down the brick path connecting the buildings of campus together, the bite of winter still remaining in the wind that blows your hair off your face on the otherwise sunny day.

He turns to look at you, with a slightly more evaluative gaze. You only hold eye contact for a second before moving your eyes forward again, trying to avoid blushing under his attention.

“You have time. Don’t force yourself into a path that others make for you.” His face was contemplative, and it seemed like he might have been speaking from personal experience.

“That’s good advice sunbae. Maybe your brain really is super big.” Your attempt to make him smile again works, and he lightly pushes your shoulder.

“Brat!” You can’t help but to let out a loud giggle, to which he lets out his own.

Seeing the street you needed to turn on for your next task of the day, you go to say goodbye to Jimin. “Well, this brat has to go buy groceries, so she’ll see you later.” You go to turn away, but before you can, he grabs your hand.

“You’re just going to leave your new friend without giving him a way to contact you? What if he has some pressing composition questions, huh? What is he to do then?” The teasing tone makes you smile.

“Well, if I remember correctly the LA you were checking out earlier is at your disposal sunbae.” He sputters for a couple seconds, pink coming to his cheeks making your smile widen, taking pleasure in catching him off guard.

“Okay, but you can’t tell me he isn’t yummy y/n!”

At this, you let out a cackle and bend over from the force of your laugh. You didn’t expect his answer, but you did have to agree with him. That LA, Yoongi his name is you think, definitely is yummy. He is gorgeous in an understated way.

After you finish laughing, you relent. “Okay, I’ll give you that. I’ll spare you the embarrassment of asking the yummy LA your dumb questions. Hand me your phone”.

He pulls his phone out of his canvas tote, holding his laptop and what looks like a textbook. You quickly type in your contact information, and hand it back to him.

“I appreciate your pity on my poor soul, y/n.”

“It’s more pity on Yoongi’s soul, actually.” You have to raise your voice as you are already walking away as you reply, your head turned over your shoulder. Your smile is met with a shake of his head and a tongue sticking out in your direction.

You laugh as you continue on towards the grocery store, happy that you were able to make such a good friend on just the first day of classes. Who knows what the rest of the semester has in store for you, if this is just day one, you think to yourself. Only time will tell.

[reki-of-the-valley]

Boy Like a Fading Dream

A part two of the uni AU? More like a "I wanted to characterize the Langa of this AU". Wrote it a couple of days ago but didn't want to back-to-back post, just give a few days for the first part to settle in.

Find it on AO3 here!

Context: For his skills on a snowboard, Langa landed himself a scholarship. But he hates it. He hates his studies. He hates the athletic training. He just wants to go back to the time when it was fun, racing his dad to the bottom of the mountain.

“Where’s dad?”

Langa lets his bag hit the ground with a thud as he kicks off his shoes. His mother is in the living room; she’s cutting carrots in front of some sitcom. She lifts her head to smile at her son as soon as he enters her line of sight.

“How was your day, baby?”

Langa sighs as he crashes next to her. He feels her watch him as he picks up a carrot from the bowl before snapping it in half between his teeth. He feels her gaze, just as heavy as his eyelids are.

“Tiring.”

It’s all he manages to say to her. It’s all he finds to say. Tiring. His days are always just tiring.

“Did you have fun at practice?”

Fun? Langa barely remembers what that feels like. Fun, it feels like a foreign word now. He knows he must have felt it in the past, the thrill of gliding down the snowy slopes, but now it’s anything but fun. Snowboarding isn’t fun anymore, especially when there’s no snow outside. Especially when he’s cooped up in a gym rather than out on the open mountains.

So was training fun? No. No, it wasn’t.

“It was fine,” he lies. He can’t tell his mother how much he hates it. He can’t tell her when it’s what’s paying for his education – an education he also hates. “The usual, you know.”

Nanako pats his arm, her smile sweet and ever so motherly. “That’s good, baby. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

Langa sucks in a breath as his mother presses a kiss to his hair. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. If only she knew how big a lie that was. He would have done anything to just quit everything right now and lay in bed for the next ten years. Everything lost its appeal. If only everything could stop just for a moment, just for a minute, just enough time for Langa to catch his breath.

“Dad’s not home yet, is he?”

Nanako shakes her head. “He’s staying late tonight. He has a project that’s due, I think, tomorrow? Something about his team not being up-to-date so he has to stay late.”

Langa sighs again as he straightens out on the couch. He grabs another carrot before getting up to fetch his bag.

“I have to go study.”

Nanako doesn’t say anything as he leaves to climb the stairs that lead to his bedroom. Langa knows she’s watching him, watching his every move, but she doesn’t say anything. Maybe she can sense his disappointment. Maybe she knows that he’s lying to her.

Langa crashes in his bed, slinging his bag at the end of his mattress where it bounced before falling among the pile of dirty clothes he’s thrown aside. His room is a mess, but he can’t bring himself to clear out his trash. He’s already in a deficit of energy when just doing his mundane daily tasks. So he crashes among his pillows and pulls out his phone.

It's automatic, the swiping left and clicking on the app. It’s become a routine, crashing in bed and opening Instagram to scroll mindlessly. Langa doesn’t actually care for what’s on his screen, he just needs something to do, something to make him forget about the emptiness that’s formed in his chest.

So he scrolls. Pictures of old friends from high school, professional pictures and reels of snowboarders, screenshots of old Tumblr posts, reels of animals being cute, Langa scrolls through them all. He scrolls, scrolls until everything on his phone becomes a big blur. He scrolls until his phone slips from his fingers, falling flat on his face.

Another sigh as he turns to his side. His phone rests against his pillow as he goes back to scrolling. Always scrolling, numbing everything he’s ever felt. Because Langa does feel. He feels a million things, but none of those feelings are good. Frustration, loneliness, exhaustion, the list can go on. He hates all his feelings, especially that hollow feeling of disappointment that has been growing over the past year or so.

A notification pulls Langa out of his mindless scrolling. He usually ignores them, swiping them away, but for some reason, this one catches his attention. For some reason, he clicks it rather than get rid of it. The flash of red catches his attention.

.MechanicStarReki. – Suggested for you

Langa squints at his screen. The name doesn’t ring a bell but the face seems familiar. Familiar, but he can’t pinpoint where exactly it is that he’s seen it. His memory of the familiar face is hazy, like that of a dream starting to fade as morning takes shape. Familiar yet so foreign.

Langa scrolls through the profile, careful to not make his presence known. Most of the captions are in Japanese and he can’t find it in himself to decipher their meaning. He knows with a little effort, and maybe a little help from a translator app or from his mother, he could read the words, but he doesn’t bother. He contents himself with the scarce English. He contents himself with the many pictures of a boy with red hair.

The last post dates back a few weeks, a set of pictures with the caption “See you for Christmas.” The pictures show the redhead hugging who Langa assumes to be his sisters. They all look too much alike for them to not be family. Langa swipes between the pictures, taking in the scene: two school-aged girls cling to the boy, identical in all ways except the color of their dresses. He’s hugging them, a wide grin stretching across his face. Langa swipes again. Another girl is shown in the picture – she must be around 15. She’s pouting, but the sun reflects against the tears that had started to form at the corner of her eyes as she hugs the boy. Her eyes are the same color as his, a deep amber color that Langa knows he’s seen somewhere. He knows he's seen the boy, but he also knows it’s impossible. He can’t have seen him, not with the location associated with the picture: Okinawa, Japan. There’s no way he’s ever seen this boy; Langa’s only been to Japan once, the summer before he started high school.

Langa moves on from the set of pictures. He scrolls down, analyzing everything that has been posted over the years. Skateboards, sketches of various types, doodles, the boy with his friends, more of his family. Langa always pauses on the pictures of him. He always squints at him as if that would help him remember where he’s seen him.

A part of Langa knows that this is obsessive behavior, that he should just let it go, but he needs to know. He needs to know where he’s seen those faded freckles against sun-kissed skin. He needs to know where he’s seen those bright amber eyes. He needs to know where he’s seen that lopsided grin. He needs to know where he’s seen this boy, this boy that feels like a fading dream.

Does he resemble an actor from one of his mother’s shows, the Japanese ones she puts on while she cooks? No, that’s not it. He’s too young to look like any of those actors. Anyway, Langa never pays attention to the actors on the screen; he only knows the story because his mother has been following the ridiculous drama for years now. So the boy doesn’t just look like someone Langa might have seen on tv.

Does he look like an athlete Langa’s watched perform time after time, desperately trying to analyze his technique in hopes of recreating whatever is being done? No, it isn’t that either. Langa never recognizes the athletes, even when they tell him they've been competing against each other for years. He remembers their boards, but never their faces. So it isn’t that.

No matter how much Langa rakes his brain, he can’t find where it is that he’s seen the grin, the bright eyes, the freckles. Maybe the boy really is a figment of his imagination, a face given to a faceless dream that comes back every so often. Maybe he’s caught a glance of someone who looks like him in the street, or maybe it’s just a mere coincidence that the boy Langa’s made up looks like him, a mixture of a bunch of features that gave someone real. Or maybe Langa is delusional from his lack of sleep.

Langa drops his phone as his door is pushed open. He knows his mother knocked, but when he gets lost in his own little world, nothing else exists. Nothing exists until his bubble bursts.

“Langa sweetheart?” Nanako is standing in the doorway. She's looking at him, a slight frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. Her usual worry is evident in her features. “Is everything alright?”

Langa shifts, pushing his legs off of his bed to sit up. He nods at his mother, his words failing him. He hates how he finds himself unable to speak.

“Are you sure?” She shifts her weight to the side. Worry. “I’ve been calling you to set the table for the past 10 minutes now.”

Langa blinks at his mother before apologizing. He hadn’t heard her, he says. He had gotten lost in his own little world. He’s sorry, he’ll be down in a minute to set the table.

“Langa.” Nanako’s voice pierces through him as he fishes his phone out from under his pillow. “Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?”

Langa almost cracks. He almost tells her. He almost admits that he hates everything he’s doing. He almost admits that he hates going to school. He almost admits that he hates training. He almost admits that the thing he hates most is himself. Almost, but he doesn’t. He wouldn’t be able to survive the disappointed look on his mother’s face. He knows she would understand, that she’d tell him he’s allowed to quit, that she would support him no matter what, but he also knows she would be disappointed.

So he just smiles at her, that closed-mouthed smile he’s been practicing for years.

“I’m just tired.”

Nanako nods before making her way to him. She holds him tightly against herself, the warm embrace of a mother. And for a moment, Langa doesn’t hate himself.

“If you’re tired, I can bring your food up. You don’t have to eat downstairs if it’s too much.”

Langa shakes his head. Dinnertime is the only time of the day where he can spend time with his parents. Between classes and training, he’s barely ever home. It’s the only time where things feel normal, like they were back in the day when Langa was young, doing homework at the kitchen table while his mother cooked, explaining to him what he had to do. It’s the only time where he feels like they’re a family again.

“Just give me a minute and I’ll be down.”

Nanako sighs as she steps away from him, nodding. A small, tired smile pulls at the corner of her mouth as she turns back to him, halfway through the door.

“You promise you’d tell me if something was bothering you?”

Langa nods, promising, but the promise is hollow, his fingers crossed behind his back. It’s broken before even being uttered because Langa knows that he can’t make that promise. There’s just no way that he can promise such a thing. He can’t bring himself to tell anyone about how he feels. But still, he smiles and nods at his mother as she makes her way out of his room, down the stairs, back to the kitchen. He smiles until he can’t bear it anymore and crystal tears fall from his eyes, fall right onto the picture of the grinning boy in his phone, the phone he's been gripping so tightly.

[nitewrighter]

So I just read your answer to an ask about Pre-fall Genji and Mercy (The one where Genji watches Mercy fly in the practice range/Moira berates Genji while healing him or smthn) and I love it! Any chance we could get a short follow-up where Genji (eventually) tells Mercy what happened on the mission/what happened coming back from the mission?

Ah, referring back to this fic?

Well the thing about Moira is that in my fic continuity, the cover story for Moira is that Overwatch pushed her to resign after that scandal with her paper, and her involvement with Blackwatch was kept largely secret, even from Mercy, up until my pre-retribution fic. So when Moira was a problem for Genji, he couldn’t really talk about it with Mercy due to Overwatch and Blackwatch’s own fucked up compartmentalization. So after Retribution there was a bit of an elephant in the room. Also Genji’s comments during Retribution and Reyes going “The Ninja agrees with me!” are.... oof. And... whoops the “let me explain what happened/clearing the air” prompt turned into an argument.

Welp. Not all those late-night chats were easy...

----

The knock on the door of the lab caught Mercy mid-yawning stretch. It was still early in the evening at Zurich headquarters, lavender twilight light bleeding over the mountain peaks out her window. Still early enough for it to be pretty much anyone who let this work chew up as much of their personal life as hers. Ana, she thought, heading to the door, About the updated humanitarian projects in Giza, probably. Or maybe Sarioglu about the inoculations on the Siberian--

The door slid open and Genji was standing before her in a loose gray long-sleeved shirt, not his usual Blackwatch hoodie. His arms were folded against himself, his shoulders tucked slightly inwards. He stood up a little straighter as the door opened.

“Doctor Ziegler,” he said her name almost with some surprise, as if she had suddenly materialized in front of him rather than been working in the same lab they had spent countless nights chatting in before.

“...It’s been a while, Genji,” she tried to make her voice warm, but wasn’t sure what he was here for. The dust was almost beginning to settle from the Venice incident, but she had seen virtually nothing of him since that painful exchange in the rec room. The Venice incident itself was still being picked over in longer term publications, and it would definitely keep giving all the news outlets investigative journalism fodder for months to come, but Blackwatch was suspended and a significant amount of its resources had been re-allocated to other Overwatch departments for the duration of its suspension, which was enough for most news outlets to let it drift to the side in favor of more recent events.

There were a few seconds where he seemed to be gathering his thoughts before he said, “I can go if you’re busy--” He wasn’t making eye contact.

“N-no--” her fingers tensed on the doorframe, “I mean...” she moved aside slightly, “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

His eyes met hers and softened for.a few seconds before he caught himself and shuffled into the room, as if the offer might be rescinded. As he had gotten more used to his prosthetics and more settled in with Blackwatch, he had come to carry himself with what some might call grace--a grace that was heavily overshadowed and sharpened by the smoldering anger in his eyes and asymmetry of his prosthetics, but a grace that still spoke to his years of physical and mental conditioning with the Shimada clan. Now, however, his movements were smaller, clumsier even---reminding her almost of their early days of physical therapy and his flinching self-containment, the way he would shrink inside hoodies and skulk in corners.

“So... what are you up to tonight?” he asked, looking around the lab. 

“Just some correspondence,” Mercy shrugged, “There’s... been a lot.”

Piles and piles of emails from former colleagues and activists furious at the fact that I continue to associate myself with Overwatch after this scandal, she thought, And maybe I could deal with them all by releasing a personal statement, but how much of that would just come off as me trying to save face while throwing Overwatch under the bus?

“Not about Venice?” Genji stiffened a little where he stood

“Yes, about Venice,” she folded her arms, her gaze was steady and tired.

“But---that’s not fair. Nothing we did there had anything to do with you--” Genji was genuinely confused.

“Blackwatch is still Overwatch’s responsibility,” said Mercy, “And if there was evidence of weaponized biotics on site, naturally people have questions for me and, of course,” a huffing, uncomfortable chuckle escaped her, “Everything I stand for in working for Overwatch.” 

Genji’s thick eyelashes lowered over the red of his eyes in a combination of frustration and guilt. “I... meant to talk to you about that when I got back...”

Mercy’s shoulders slumped as she turned back to her chair and sat down in it.

“How long was Moira on your team?” she said quietly.

“She... joined about two months after Jack made her tender her resignation,” said Genji, “I was with Reyes the night he recruited her.” 

Mercy’s lips thinned and she wasn’t looking at him. “So... how did it work? Would she just... cartoonishly avoid being seen by hiding behind vending machines? Dipping around corners?”

“I never actually saw much of her in Zurich or Rome. Reyes usually had her working remotely at a black site. The attack on Rome forced us to bring her into Zurich for her own safety and for our response to the attack.”

“So the resignation was all just theater to put her somewhere where she would have even less oversight and accountability,” Mercy’s lips were pulling back from her teeth in frustration.

“I... don’t really know the specifics of it,” said Genji.

Mercy was silent at this, sitting with her hands in her lap. 

“Angela,” he said her name and she looked up at him, “Believe me, if it weren’t for Blackwatch’s procedures, I would have told you. There were so many times I wanted to tell you---”

So many times I wanted you to help... he thought.

“Jack knew?” Mercy said quietly.

“He knew, to an extent,” said Genji, “To be fair, even McCree and I didn’t really know what she was doing at the black site... I suppose we also didn’t want to know.”

“And everyone’s been letting her tinker with my biotics doing god-knows-what to them and then leaving that ugly smear of what was once my work at the site of an act of--of---I don’t know what to call it--Extrajudicial murder?”

“Angela...” he brought up his prosthetic hand, apparently with the intention of putting it on her shoulder, but seemed to think better of it and drew it close to himself, “If I had known Reyes’s actions would impact you like this---”

“So Reyes’s actions are only wrong because they’re negatively impacting me,” said Mercy flatly, “Not because, I don’t know, it’s utterly horrific to shoot someone in the face while in the process of making an arrest?”

Genji was taken slightly aback by her bitterness. Then again... there was a decent chance she had been dealing with whatever angry emails from people all over the world who wanted her to answer for Blackwatch’s actions for several days now. But Blackwatch did the right thing, didn’t it?

“Antonio’s weapons trafficking with Talon was probably killing far more people than that...” Genji floated the words out there, assuming they might calm her down, “If it meant stopping him--”

“’Probably?’” Mercy’s voice was incredulous. She huffed, trying to process, “That-that’s not how this works, Genji. That’s not how the law is supposed to work. You don’t kill people on ‘Probablies!’” 

“The law wouldn’t have worked with him anyway. He bragged that he had allies who would get him out within the week.” 

“That doesn’t mean you kill him!”

“I didn’t kill him, Reyes did! I just--!” Genji huffed, the sound was metallic behind his faceplate, “Look, the Shimada clan are weapons traffickers, too. I know what kind of person we were dealing with.”

“It doesn’t matter what kind of person he is, what matters is the proper procedures! If Overwatch can’t hold itself to those standards, then we can’t call ourselves peacekeepers!” 

“Reyes brought me on the team because I’m an assassin,” Genji’s voice was unsettlingly even.

“You were brought on the team because you have unique intel and skills---”

“From being raised to be an assassin,” there was a smoldering frustration in Genji now, stepping toward Mercy, “Don’t confuse what you want me to be with what I am.” 

Mercy seemed to visibly wince at this. She glared up into his red eyes, her own gray-blue eyes bloodshot from staring at her screens. “Don’t confuse who you are with what’s convenient for Reyes,” she said darkly, “If you don’t see anything wrong with what Reyes did, then Jack suspending Blackwatch was the best call he could make.”

Genji’s skin was burning with fury beneath his faceplate. “Oh and I’m just supposed to sit on my hands and watch the Shimada clan continue to kill people because Blackwatch has to be suspended for Reyes’ mistake.”

“Yes, Genji! That’s how accountability works!” Mercy was wringing her hands. 

“So you’re willing to let--You weren’t-- you have no idea what I-- You--!” Genji was stumbling over his words, his anger seemed to be mashing the ability to translate in his head down into an angry pulp of Japanese with a few english swear words peppered in. He took a sharp seething inhale. “You know what? I’m leaving.”

“Fine!” Mercy threw the word after him as he turned on his heel and stepped out the door of the lab. 

He snarled with frustration beneath his faceplate as he quickly walked down the hall. Folding his arms tight across himself as he stepped into the elevator.

She doesn’t know, she wasn’t there so she has no right to talk about it like... Genji’s organic fingers squeezed on his prosthetic arm, Like... 

He took another breath. Fine, he thought, It’s fine. I’m sick of her acting like I’m anything other than... he looked at his prosthetic hand and realized he was shaking. He closed his fingers into a fist before stepping out of the elevator, still walking, angrily and quickly through the Blackwatch offices towards his own quarters. save for the small lights lining the pathways between desks and offices, Blackwatch was virtually pitch-black.

“Trouble in paradise?” a low melodious voice sounded across the underground offices and Genji flinched to see Moira barely illuminated by the multiple screens of Reyes’s main intel computer, holding a tablet in one hand and a lowball glass of whiskey in the other. She was donning that horn-like reverse biofeed, apparently lazily scrolling through some lab work. Shouldn’t the UN have seized it with the suspension? thought Genji.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Genji said curtly before continuing to walk.

“Personally I like when she gets all sanctimonious while Overwatch is actively screwing her over,” Moira looked back down at her tablet before sipping her whiskey. Genji stopped walking. “Reminds me of those little dogs yapping on the ends of leashes, and then their owners just get tired of them and scoop them up... and there’s a life story in 10 seconds. No power to begin with and all you can do is bark and bark--”

“If you talk about Doctor Ziegler like that again, you’ll--” Genji caught himself.

“Ah. So you were haunting her door,” Moira’s eyebrows raised with some amusement.

“You don’t know,” said Genji, stiffly.

“I know you’re easy to read,” said Moira, not even looking up from her tablet, “And I know we’re all slaves to habit. So what happened?”

“Nothing I’m sharing with you,” said Genji walking forward.

“That’s fine,” Moira kept scrolling through her tablet as Genji walked past her.

She was only a few steps behind him when she spoke up again. “I understand how deeply it stings, when you realize you’re not the person someone built up in their head.”

Genji paused again, his shoulders bunching up, and he glanced back at her.

“But I’ve also always had great admiration for those who know exactly who and what they are. I like to think it’s why Blackwatch was as efficacious as it was.... despite... some personality clashes,” she gave an easy shrug.

Genji was silent for a few seconds. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m only saying that you have my sympathy for finally understanding the difference between those up there,” she nodded up to the ceiling, to the upper levels of Overwatch, “And those of us down here.” 

Something prickled in Genji then. He remembered the weight of his father’s hands on his shoulders, saying, You have to understand, this is who we are. And Genji tensed then. 

“You’re not alone, Genji, that’s all I’m saying,” said Moira, sipping her whiskey.

“Good night, Moira,” was all Genji managed to say as he walked off.

[patt-writes-stuff]

Cotton Candy

Pairing: Midoriya x female! reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: maybe some curse words?

Genre: very light angst and fluff

A/N: This took SO long. I had writers block but thankfully I’m pretty over it now! This is my first piece for the summer binge event hosted by @bnhabookclub

Summary: You may be in an amusement park but you’re far from amused. Instead, you’re just sadly eating cotton candy.

Crossed Off: Cotton Candy

Prompt: “Why did you choose me?”

Class 1-A was spending the day at a theme park near U.A. Everyone had been looking forward to this for weeks now, even Bakugou, though he would never let it show.

Everyone, but you, that is.

Under different circumstances, you'd be over the moon. A whole day of rides, friends, and games? The definition of perfect.

You had been excited for today’s outing up until this morning. Now, you were sitting in a picnic table next to some food stands, eating cotton candy, and being sad.

You tore off a piece of the cotton candy, letting the sweetness of it disintegrate in your mouth. So far, it wasn’t doing an excellent job of getting rid of the bitter taste in your mouth. With a sigh, you recalled what had soured your mood so much.

You had been getting ready for the outing, excited to spend the day with friends. Just as you were finishing up, there was a series of frantic knocks at your door. A bit startled by the sudden noise, you opened the door, curious as to who was in such a rush to see you. The group wasn't leaving for another half hour.

A very frazzled looking Uraraka greeted you upon opening the door. You let her in, ushering her to sit on your bed and waited for your best friend to speak.

After a couple of seconds, she spoke. ”I want to confess to Deku today!”

Oh.

She wanted to confess to Midoriya. The very same Midoriya you were crushing on. You could practically feel the air being knocked out of your lungs.

She took your silence as a sign to continue. ”I don’t know how to do it,” she flopped dramatically onto your bed as if to further prove her distress, ”Will you help?”

”I don't know Ochaco, ” you said, looking away from her and instead focusing on the trinkets on your desk, ”Isn't Mina better at these sorts of things?” You didn't want to help with this in the slightest bit. Sure, Ochaco was your best friend, and you'd do just about anything for her, but walking on hot coals sounded more appealing than helping your best friend and your crush get together.

”Please, ” she begged, stretching out the ’e’ sound while she gave you the best puppy eyes she could muster.

Goddammit, your people-pleasing ways would surely be the end of you.

”Fine, ” you said, letting out a sigh.

Uraraka broke into a grin, letting out a ’yay’ sound. ”Do you have any ideas?”

”The amusement park has a Tunnel of Love ride, how about that? The amusement park we're going to has one.” you proposed. If you ever were to confess to Deku, you'd probably do it somewhere like that. Not that you had ever thought of that, though.

”A Tunnel of what?” She inquired, looking at you in question.

”It's this two-person boat ride that goes through these dark passages. It's supposed to be romantic and private, I think.” you spoke as if you hadn't done any research on them.

Ochaco let out a pleased gasp. ”That’s perfect! Thank you so much, ” she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, ”You're a genius!” she exclaimed as she raced out the door, most likely to finish getting ready.

Shaking your head, you took another piece of your cotton candy. You always craved sweets whenever you were upset, and cotton candy was the first thing you could get your hands on.

It's not like you could be upset with Ochaco for asking you for help, she didn't know you also had a crush on Midoriya. You hadn't planned on keeping it a secret at first, honestly. You were going to tell her, back when you didn't know she had a crush on him. Then, at a sleepover, some of the other girls had teased Ochaco about her crush on the curly green-haired boy. They'd gushed about how perfect the two would be together. She’d been embarrassed but pleased that other people thought they were an excellent match.

You remember feeling sick that night. The more you thought of it, however, the more you could see what everyone else meant. They were always helping each other become better heroes. They just clicked.

You wanted Ochaco happy; she was your best friend. And you wanted Izuku to be happy too, even if that meant he’d be with another girl. They could be happy together.

So, you made it your mission to get over Midoriya. The task, so far, had proven to be much more complicated than you had initially expected. The problem was how incredibly sweet and attentive he was. He was always so willing to help you with homework, or training, or listen to you ramble about the stupidest of things, and he seemed so fascinated by everything you said.

He was just so perfect. His fluffy green curls had you itching to touch, to brush them off his face while he was writing on that hero notebook of his. His rambling, while admittedly a bit concerning, made you swoon. You could, and often did, get lost in his pretty emerald green eyes or counting all the freckles you could see on his face. He was just so… entrancing. You could just watch him for hours.

God, you’re horrible. Your best friend is probably going to get with this boy today, yet here you are pining over him like a lovesick fool.

”I’m a lousy excuse of a friend, aren't I?” You asked your cotton candy woefully, eating another chunk of the sweet treat.

”I think you're a great friend, ” a voice behind you declared. You jumped in surprise; you weren't expecting anyone to respond. You looked back to meet a pair of concerned green eyes. Those eyes are much too pretty to look so worried. ”Are you feeling better now?” he asked, sitting down next to you on the picnic table you were currently occupying.

”Huh?” was your ever so eloquent response. You cringed at how dumb you must sound.

His expression didn't shift from concern, however. ”You weren't feeling well earlier, remember? You said the roller coaster had made you dizzy. Are you feeling better?” He seemed to inch closer to you subconsciously.

Oh, right. You'd forgotten. You'd told your friends the last ride you'd been on had made you feel sick, and that you'd rather skip out on the next few remaining rides and find somewhere to sit. The Tunnel of Love ride was the last one of the day, according to Iida’s extremely detailed schedule, so you hoped to stay away until it was time to go back to the dorms. You loved your friend, sure, but you weren't a masochist. You knew seeing them together would be far from easy, and you hoped to keep all the negative feelings at bay until you were in the comfort of your room.

Midoriya, being the absolute sweetheart he undoubtedly is, had been quick to offer to keep you company or even to take you back to the dorms. You'd be a big liar if you said you hadn't been tempted to take him up on that offer, to postpone your inevitable heartbreak for another day, but one glance in Ochaco’s direction had been enough to shoo the idea away.

You'd forgotten what you had told everyone, honestly. You were as lousy as a friend as a liar.

”Yeah, I'm feeling much better!” you said in a cheery faux tone, throwing a reassuring smile for good measure.

He looked down at your cotton candy, a frown growing on his freckled face. God, you wanted to kiss it away. ”Why are you sad?” he asked, looking up from the cotton candy to meet your eyes. You swore you felt a jolt of electricity run down your spine when your eyes met.

”I'm not sad, ” you denied, shaking your head. You are lying through your teeth, but he didn't need to know that.

”You always eat sweets when you're sad.” he countered, obviously not buying it.

You looked at him, wide-eyed, ”How do you know that?” You wondered aloud. Darn, his observant nature. You gulped down the rest of your cotton candy, trying to get rid of the incriminating evidence, and threw the paper cone in the trash can next to the picnic table.

His face flushed, going bright r, and l he covered his face with his hands, mumbling a bunch of excuses you couldn't quite make out. Adorable.

”I’m feeling a little better now, ” you spoke softly, trying to ease his worries, feeling slightly guilty for flustering him so severely. You glanced down at your phone to check the time. It was almost time for the Tunnel of Love ride. Taking a deep breath, you said, ”Um, I think Uraraka had something to ask you. You should probably head over there now, so you don't miss the last ride.”

”She already asked me, ” he said, fidgeting with his hands a bit, looking straight ahead. ”I- uh, I said I couldn't. There's someone else I want to go on the Tunnel ride with.” he gave you a meaningful look. You ignored it, mistaking it to be simply a projection of your feelings onto him.

”Who?” you asked incredulously. If not Ochaco, then who could he possibly like enough to go on the literal Tunnel of Love? Perhaps Todoroki? He is pretty handsome; you'd admit that.

”You, ” he revealed, a newfound determination taking over his features despite his face being cherry red.

You felt like your brain was going to explode. Midoriya liked you? What? Since when? You weren't sure what to think. On the one hand, yay, on the other, what about Ochaco?

Before you could say anything, you heard a call of your name, along with Midoriya’s. The pair of you turned your heads to find Kaminari jogging up to the couple of you.

“Hey guys!” he exclaimed, full of pep, utterly oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “Iida told me to come to get you guys. We’re about to get on to the boats. We need to get going; otherwise, we’ll miss our place.”

Midoriya stood up, grabbing your hand and tugging you up. Instead of letting it go once you were out of your seat like you thought he would, he intertwined his fingers with yours and led you through the crowd of people. From the corner of your eye, you could see Kaminari's surprised expression at seeing the two of you holding hands. It only lasted a second, however, and after that, he gave Midoriya a not-at-all subtle thumbs up. It only made the poor boy blush even more. He was practically glowing. You were a bit worried. Could someone pass out due to excess blushing?

When you got to the line, most of your group was already in the ride, Ochaco included. You weren't sure whether you were glad or not. You weren't sure how to feel about anything.

Izuku, ever the gentleman, helped you onto the ’love boat.’ It was one of those canoes they have in the Venice Canal, and it was, for lack of a better word, obnoxiously pink, with glittery red hearts of different sizes all over.

The first minute or so in which the boat floated through the ride’s dark passages was spent in awkward silence.

“Why did you choose me?” you asked, breaking the silence. You turned your head over to look at Midoriya even though you couldn't quite see him in the darkness.

”What do you mean ’why’?” he asked. Though it was too dark to see his expression, you were sure; his brow was furrowed in confusion. Maybe slight worry.

”I mean, why ask me when Uraraka asked you? She's cute and positive and kind and-”

”I think you're all those things too, ” he said, effectively cutting you off.

Your eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, meaning you could make out Midoriya’s face reasonably well. And, God, were you glad you could see his expression. A stray curl or two were in his face, and you almost reached up to tuck it back into place. His eyes, only half-open, weren't quite meeting your own. Instead, they were trained between your eyes, mouth slightly agape. He was leaning towards you steadily. His lips met yours, and you closed your eyes shut. Every inch of you was tingling, and you felt like fireworks were erupting all around you.

The moment was cut short by the intrusion of sunlight. Upon realizing the ride was over, you snapped away from him, reality finally settling in.

You just kissed Midoriya. The same Midoriya, your best friend, was going to confess to today.

You were such a horrible person.

Thankfully, none of your classmates had spotted the kiss. Otherwise, all hell would have broken loose.

You stood up quickly, not quite meeting Izuku or Ohaco’s eyes. Instead, you practically jumped out of the boat, and sped walked towards the amusement park.

Midoriya tried to approach you in the train station, but you excused yourself, claiming you had to go to the bathroom. The look of hurt in his eyes was enough to make you want to cry.

When the train arrived, you once again chose the cowards way out by going into the cart that neither Ochaco nor Izuku were in. Sitting down, you key put a sigh.

You liked Izuku. And Izuku liked you. But Ochaco also liked Izuku. Only Izuku didn't like Ochaco; he wanted you.

You used the train ride to clear your head. You decided that before you talked with Midoriya, and apologized for being so flaky, you had to speak with Ochaco. No boy, no matter how amazing he is, us worth losing a lifetime of friendship.

You hoped you wouldn't have to choose, though.

Once you got out of the train, you tracked down your friend. She was talking with Tsuyu, her back facing you. Taking a deep breath, you walked over to her, tapping on her shoulder.

“Can we talk?” You asked, voice quiet, hesitant.

The two of you walked in awkward silence, not quite sure on what to say, several feet behind the rest of the class so you could talk privately. You tried your best to keep your eyes away from Midoriya’s back, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. There was an appealing aspect to everything the green-haired boy did. Even the sight of him talking normally with Iida and Todoroki drew you in. He was a flame; you were a moth.

As if he could sense your staring, he turned to look back. His eyes locked on yours, and from afar, you faintly see the steadily growing blush that adorned his face. His lips quirked up in a small smile, and he sent you an equally small, unsure wave. Cute.

Growing flustered yourself, you sent a small wave back before looking away, eyes meeting Ochaco’s. She had been watching the entire interaction, a sad sort of a smile adorning her face.

”Why didn't you tell me?” she asked. She didn't sound mad or disappointed like you had imagined she would. She just seemed confused.

Guiltily, you looked down, bruising yourself by counting the cracks on the pavement while you thought of what to say.

”I didn't want you to be upset, ” you answered.

She let out a laugh. ”Upset about what? About you having a crush on a guy I'm not dating?”

”I just- I'm so sorry-” you began to apologize profusely before being interrupted by your friend.

”You have nothing to be sorry about. You like Deku, and he likes you. Who am I to get in the way of that?” the question was meant to be rhetorical, you knew that, but you answered anyways.

”But Ochaco, you have a crush on him, ” you stated. You couldn't quite understand why she was acting so calm about this.

” It's just a silly crush, ” she said, racing you off, ”I'll get over it. Your friendship means much more than that. ”

You smiled at her. ”I think so too.”

The two of you continued talking after that, the awkwardness that was previously there dissipated. Ochaco filled you in on everything you missed while you were gone. Bakugou had gotten angry at a carnival-style target game and had blown up the target, resulting in Iida scolding him while poor Kirishima tried to keep some semblance of peace between them.

Once you arrived at U.A., you and Ochaco headed towards the dorm rooms, much like the majority of your classmates. It was late in the evening, after all. You spotted a familiar head of curly green hair. As if sensing your nervousness, Ochaco placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder before scurrying off to her dorm room, saying a quick ’Good Night Deku’ along the way.

Once the two of you were left alone, he started speaking. ”I am so sorry for kissing you! I guess I just got caught up in the moment and forgot to ask if you were okay with it. God, you probably hate me-”

”No!” you said, a bit too forcefully.

You felt like you were falling for him all over again. You had ditched him. Yet here he was, fidgeting anxiously in front of your doorway. This boy was going to kill you with that sweet nature of his.

He looked at you, a bit shocked by your reaction. You felt your face heating up. That had been sudden, hadn't it?

Clearing your throat, you spoke. ”No, ” you said, quietly this time, ”I enjoyed the kiss. A lot.”

The surprised ’Really?’ he let out made your face break into a grin. He was adorable.

”M-me too, ” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

The two of you stood there for a couple of seconds, merely admiring the presence of each other.

”I should go, ” he said softly.

Feeling particularly brave, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. He seemed to melt into the embrace, letting out a happy hum. After a few moments, he pulled away. Red-faced and smiling, he wished you good night before heading back to his dorm.

You entered your room, wasting no time in changing into your PJs and flopping on top of your bed, a massive smile on your face.

You may or may not have squealed into your pillow