#he’s just sour because he couldn’t think of his own costume for this year

[hitwiththetmnt]

This post for reference

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: eren x reader

♡   —   tags/warnings: mentions of cheating and alcohol. side aruani and yumihisu. honestly just a feel-good fic, with humour and fluff <3

♡   —   a/n:  honestly, this is the most “romantic comedy” fic i’ve ever written and i love it <3 shout out to @ofoceansandtombstones​ that beta read this one mwah thank u

♡   —   masterlist

There was an ill taste in your mouth that wouldn’t go away, no matter how many drinks you had. And you already had more than a few. From your spot on the table, you could see your friends dancing and having the time of their lives. You really wished you could join them. Nevertheless, you had wasted all your energy forcing a smile and clapping along during the ceremony. Once you had arrived at the hotel reception with the rest of the guests, you had slid a bill to a kind waitress and told her to keep the drinks coming. 

Ymir and Historia were dancing in front of you. Stoic, sour-faced Ymir couldn’t help but smile as her sweet girlfriend twirled and giggled, her cheeks red and eyes just the tiniest bit unfocused. Next to them, Sasha, Jean and Connie were owning the dance floor, moving in sync to the happy music. A grin formed on your face as you saw Connie lifting Sasha up and her almost falling to the floor. Jean was holding his stomach as he laughed loudly.

On a nearby table, Mikasa looked over at them, a small smile on his lips. She was sitting next to her girlfriend, who was holding her hand as they watched their friends dance. You saw her girlfriend leaning over to her and whispering something in her ear, to which she chuckled. It was so strange -and so beautiful- to see Mikasa laugh that it took you aback. And apparently, also the girl she was with, because her lips slightly parted as she watched her in awe.

“How’s the party animal doing?”

You looked up and saw Eren staring down at you with a funny expression. He was wearing black dress pants and a white shirt. The first two buttons were undone, and he was carrying his suit jacket over his shoulder and a beer on his other hand.

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye out for everyone,” you replied with a shrug. Eren scoffed and took the seat next to you on the empty table, leaving his jacket on the nearest chair.

“I mean, I know attending your ex’s wedding isn’t bound to be a good time, but you’d think you would try to put on a happy face.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, at least I’m here.”

“After Mikasa tried her best to convince you during a whole week,” he said. You turned your head to Eren, eyes wide open. “What? Of course she told me.”

“That little… That’s it, I’m going to tell her girlfriend about that one time Mikasa got drunk with us,” you muttered angrily, standing up. Eren was quicker and pulled you back to your seat.

“You and Armin broke up a year ago. Why are you so upset he’s moving on?”

Before you could answer, the music stopped and the dance floor erupted in applause. Eren and you watched as Armin and Annie walked in between their guests, greeting everyone as they made their way to the bride and groom table, covered with a pearl cloth and decorated with the finest flowers. Every detail screamed elegance and you knew Armin had been the one to decide most of it. It had his taste written in every napkin and strategically placed flower.

Armin’s smile was almost too big for his face and if you had to guess, those small red marks on the external corner of his eyes meant he had been crying just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes. So sentimental. On the other hand, Annie’s smile was far less noticeable, but for someone who always repressed her public displays of emotions as much, that little smile must have felt heavenly to her new husband.

Husband. You took a big gulp of your drink.

“I’m telling you this because I care for you,” Eren said, redirecting your attention to him. “You’re looking like a petty ex.”

“Rather be petty than a cheater,” you shrugged, finishing your drink. You gestured to the waitress and she immediately walked to you, handing you a full glass. Thanking her, you wasted no time in taking a sip.

Eren’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Armin never told you why we broke up, right?”

Eren scooted his chair closer to you and you bit back a laugh.

“He said you just weren’t good together,” he said, trying to remember his friend’s words. “And you said something similar when I asked you back then. Where does this ‘cheating’ thing come from?”

You let out a long sigh. “Maybe it wasn’t cheating. Not by definition, at least. But when your boyfriend starts dating someone else a week after you broke up a two-year-long relationship and he gets engaged four months later… you draw your own conclusions,” you explained, taking another sip of your drink and making a grimace. “Fuck, this one’s strong.”

After not getting a response from Eren for a long moment, you finally turned to look for his emerald eyes. You could almost see the numbers flying around his mind, trying to make sense of everything you had just told him. It was endearing.

“Wait, no-- wait,” Eren gestured at you with his hand. He stopped himself again and took a sip of his beer. “The first time Armin told me about Annie was in February. I remember it clearly. We were shopping for Mikasa’s birthday gift and then he went to pick something for Annie. And you guys broke up around Halloween, that’s the time I found you crying-- in Jean's backyard during our costume party.”

“We had a big fight at that party. We hadn’t broken up,” you clarified with a smirk. “He broke up with me after Mikasa’s birthday party. The same party he convinced me not to attend.”

Eren’s face dropped once all the pieces clicked together. He turned his body to look at the bride and groom table, where Armin and Annie were taking a sip of their champagne glasses and talking to each other enthusiastically, while the rest of their guests kept dancing.

“That son of a bitch,” he breathed out. You burst out laughing at his reaction. “No, I mean it! I really thought you had broken up during that Halloween party! You didn’t upload any more photos together, I don’t even remember even seeing you together--”

“I told you, we were fighting and… not in the mood for photos or public dates. Most of those months were spent at his apartment, fighting over really, really stupid things or just not texting each other for days,” you explained. “Honestly, when he broke up with me he made the decision I was too afraid to take. He was right, we weren’t good for each other anymore. But... fuck,” you chuckled icily. “I wish he would have broken up with me before getting with Annie.”

Eren listened in silence, his eyes still on his friend. You gave him time as you kept drinking, your gaze drifting to your friends again. You really wished you could have the energy to join them and forget Armin and Annie. It was true you didn’t love him anymore, yet seeing them together only made you remember how you had been fooled by someone you thought loved you the most.

You had had many dates ever since, but no one ever stuck. It was fun, getting someone’s attention for a couple of weeks, but then you couldn’t help but ghost them, putting up shitty excuses like wanting to focus on yourself and not having enough time to spare with them. You had lost so many amazing opportunities with both boys and girls that a couple of months ago you had decided to stop dating at all. It was lonely for sure, but at least you didn’t find yourself feeling guilty for not being able to open yourself up emotionally for someone else.

“Want to get back at him?”

You turned to Eren so fast you almost hurt your neck.

“What?”

“I have an idea. Just play along,” he explained, standing up.

“Eren, hey, what are you--”

“Everybody! If you could give me a minute please!”

You watched horrified as your friends started turning to you and Eren, confused at the commotion. Eren kept waving his hand, gathering more and more people’s attention, Armin and Annie included. He even gestured to the DJ to lower the music and she complied. In a few seconds, all the guests of the party were looking at you, who was still sitting down with a confused expression, a drink in your hand. Once he deemed enough people were looking at him, you saw him fumbling with his hands nervously.

“Eren,” you called for him again in a whisper, but all he did was take the drink you had in your hands and put it on the table.

“Sorry for interrupting, I know a lot of you were having a lot of fun dancing. But all I’m asking is one minute of your time. I hope that’s okay with you guys,” he grinned back to the bride and groom table, where they were as confused as all the guests around. “I have something really important to say.”

“Eren, no, you can’t tell them about--”

“No, no, give me a moment,” he hushed you again. The DJ walked to both of you and handed an inalambric microphone to Eren.

You didn’t like how devilish his smile turned.

“Great, thanks, this is much better,” he told the DJ, who just kindly smiled at him. “Anyway, I don’t want to take much of the bride and groom’s time, so I’ll try to be concise. The thing is…” he said, turning to face you. “I love you.”

Your mouth flew open as you heard multiple gasps coming from the guests. Yet, you couldn’t bother with looking anywhere but Eren’s eyes. What was he doing? Since when did he have feelings for you? If he wanted to say something, he could have easily said something a few minutes ago, when--

Just play along.

Oh.

Your questioning glare turned into a big smile and you noticed Eren softly nodding at you.

“You already know how much I love you. Honestly, I never get tired of telling you so. And hiding our love from our friends has probably been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Sorry about that, Mikasa,” he said, gesturing to the woman.

You could imagine your friend’s dumbfounded face, but you knew better than to turn and check for yourself. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold in your laughter.

“So I’m here in front of all our friends and some other guests I don’t know to ask a simple question.”

In a swift movement, Eren got down on one knee. Your hand flew to cover your mouth, trying your best to hide any trace of laughing on your face. The flash of the cameras startled you for a moment, but that only meant Eren’s plan was working. The excited murmurs and squeals only fueled Eren, as he pulled up a ring and showed it to you. You immediately recognized it as one of the rings he had been wearing a few moments ago. 

“Would you marry me?”

A huge, honest grin made its way to your face and you nodded quickly. You grabbed the microphone Eren was holding and spoke right into it.

“Yes, I’ll marry you!”

You hadn’t listened to a crowd erupting in applause and cheers as loud as the guests at Armin’s wedding when Eren slid his ring on your finger. Once again, the flash of the cameras were right into the both of you as you leaped into his arms. He stood up while holding your body close to him, even giving you a small spin and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

When he finally put you down, the music resumed and all your friends began running to the both of you.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you whispered to Eren, holding his face between your hands. He laughed.

“Kinda ruined the reception, huh?”

“When the fuck did this happen?” Jean inquired as soon as he reached you.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us?” Sasha whined, with a small pout. “But congratulations!” she quickly followed, hugging you tightly. As you hugged her back, you felt someone taking the hand that was now wearing Eren’s ring.

“This is one of your rings,” she noted, shooting Eren a dirty glance. He lifted his hands in surrender.

“Hey, I didn’t plan this! But I will get her a prettier one soon,” he said, winking at you. You laughed and shook your head.

“Nah, I like this one,” you replied. You shared a knowing grin and soon it was Connie’s turn to hug you.

While you were hugging your friend back, you saw in the corner of your eye Armin getting up from the table and starting to walk to both of you. Your smile immediately vanished from your face and once Eren caught it and followed your eye trail, he understood the reason why. You heard him mutter a curse before he pulled you from Connie’s embrace.

“Well, we’d love to stay, but my fiancée and I want some time alone.”

“C’mon, you haven’t told us yet how you got together!” Sasha complained.

“Next time, we promise,” you hurriedly assured her.

Eren picked his suit jacket from the table and before Armin could reach your group, you quickly walked away, exiting the hotel. Eren whistled to a taxi and you jumped inside, telling the man behind the wheel to drive. Loud laughter filled the vehicle as soon as it began moving.

“How-- how did you even have this idea?” you asked him, holding your stomach as you laughed. “Dude, Armin looked so upset, we totally stole his thunder.”

“That was the plan,” Eren shrugged, a winning smirk on his lips. “Knowing the gang, everybody’s going to be talking about us and the engagement for the rest of the party.”

“Remind me to never have you as an enemy,” you chuckled, leaning back on the car seat. Letting out a long sigh, you took off Eren’s ring and handed it to him.

He shook his head. “Nah, keep it. As a souvenir of today,” he winked.

“Thank you,” you smiled. You put the ring on your thumb this time, since it was too big for your ring finger anyway. “You didn’t have to do this at all, and yet--”

“It’s okay,” he assured you.

“No, really. It’s just-- I’ve been having a tough time since the breakup,” you admitted. “To have you doing this for me means a lot. Makes me feel someone really cares for me. I never said anything to anyone back then because Annie is also a part of the group and I thought…”

Eren leaned his head towards you.

“You thought…?”

“I thought you would pick her too. It’s stupid, I know,” you shrugged, turning your head to Eren. “But Armin had just broken up with me and a week later he was already in public with Annie. Back then, I thought everyone knew we had just broken up and if no one had said anything was because they didn’t care. So I just… stopped hanging out with all of you as much as I did before.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” he muttered.

“You did?”

Eren nodded. “That’s why I asked Mikasa to pressure you into coming to the wedding. I hadn’t seen you in a while.”

“You could have just asked me to hang out, you know,” you teased him. Eren chuckled, pushing some of his loose hairs behind his ear.

“I think we know by now I don’t take the conventional route.”

“Yeah, all of the guests know that too,” you quipped, making both of you laugh.

This time, when the laughter came to an end, you realized how close your faces were. Your noses were almost brushing as you both were lying your heads on the back of the car seat. You looked into Eren’s emerald eyes and noticed he wasn’t looking away from yours either. Was it the alcohol that made his cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink? If it was, then you could say the warmth crawling up your face was its fault too. It had to be the alcohol, or else, you would have to also ponder about the reason your heart was beating out of your chest at having your friend so close to you. He was handsome, he had always been and you knew this. But why were you losing all your composure just now?

A brief look at Eren's lips gave your thoughts away and, in less than two seconds, he was pressing his lips against yours.

For a spur-of-the-moment kiss, as you thought this one was, it was rather soft. Eren kissed you as if he thought you were the most expensive and fragile thing he had ever seen. But of course, this was just a product of the adrenaline and the fact that -as far as you knew- he hadn’t been dating anyone as well, right?

Your small theory crashed and burnt when you felt his hand softly cradling the side of your face. No. This wasn’t an adrenaline kiss, neither one that you gave without a thought. Maybe it had been unprompted and maybe you hadn’t seen it coming, but it sure as hell seemed he did. Eren’s lips gilded against your with ease, revealing a soft tenderness you didn’t know he possessed. You kissed him back, matching his rhythm as you softly pressed your hand against his chest.

Eren pulled away from you softly, and if his longing eyes were any indicator, a bit reluctantly.

“Hi,” he breathed out, making you grin widely.

“Hi,” you replied. You gently caressed his cheek with the knuckles of the hand that was previously resting on his chest. Eren took it and kissed your palm, making your heart flutter.

“Sorry to interrupt kids, but where are we heading?”

The voice of the taxi driver startled you, making you pull away from Eren. He chuckled at your reaction and then looked back at the man.

“Take us to that pizza place near the central park. Gotta have a celebratory dinner with my fiancée,” he said cheekily, taking your hand into his. You squeezed his hand back, his ring digging a little on your skin.

“So young and engaged already? Congrats!” the driver said, turning left and heading towards the direction Eren had given him.

“Thank you!” you smiled brightly at Eren while he took your joint hands to his mouth and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

A part of you knew you weren’t taking that ring off anytime soon.

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring deep in the soul (a katsuki bakugo/reader fic)

Summary: Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. He'd worked hard to achieve his position, his fame. And now it was all going down the damn drain, along with his hearing.

~*~*

Bakugo is suffering from hearing loss as a side effect of his quirk, and he struggles with how to face this new challenge. Enter Reader with a healing quirk.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood & violence. 

A/N: No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.” 

Ao3 Link: Here 

*****A/N Part 2: This post has now been updated to include the links to Ch 2

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here 

Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. Actually, he’d argue he was tied for first place with the current Symbol of Peace, Shitty Deku. Their victory statistics were basically the fucking same, the only difference was the freckled idiot was made of smiles and sunshine and stupid fucking sugar or something. The whole world ate out of his scarred, fucked up hand, and Darling Deku ate up all the media’s attention in return. 

In contrast, Bakugo wasn’t a “people person,” as Deku loved to put it, but… he also wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old brat who got muzzled on live national television. Pro Hero Dynamight was known for his crass, blunt language, his vicious streak of justice when it came to villains, but people also looked up to him. Extras cheered for him in the streets as he exploded past mid-battle. Children ran up to him on patrol and asked him to sign their books, their photos, their Dynamight merch. On one memorable occasion, that he may or may not have saved on his computer, a national news channel ran a live clip from a disaster site, a villain attack turned rescue mission after a building collapsed. The soundbite was only thirty seconds, a close up of a pale, dusty woman with a shallow cut on her brow. The splash of crimson and her bloodshot blue eyes were the only spots of color on her, everything else washed out in white plaster and cement dust, tear tracks carving grooves down her cheeks. 

But the smile on her face could have lit up goddamn Tokyo. 

“Dynamight saved us,” the woman had said to the news reporter, her voice full of awe and tears. “I-I got stuck under some debris, but I heard the moment Dynamight arrived, and I just knew we were safe. The battle was over a minute later, and then he just… pulled me out of the wreckage. He pulled us all out. He’s… the greatest hero I’ve ever seen.” 

That was a nice stroke to his ego. And the dazed woman had been right. He had pulled everyone out of that building, and not a single person died that day, which only confirmed what he already knew: 

Katsuki Bakugo was the best of the best. Deku might have been the better show pony, but Dynamight was an undefeated hero, fierce, fearless, ferocious. 

Except right now… he was fucking scared out of his mind. 

This couldn’t be happening. 

“What?” he snarled at the extra in the white coat standing before him. 

The man flinched and visibly recoiled, shuffling back a step and partially ducking behind his tablet device. When he spoke again, he’d raised his voice an entire fucking octave. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” the doctor stammered, but then he seemed to regain his composure and lowered his voice a little. “I… I wish I had better news for you, Dynamight, but…” 

He trailed off and swallowed, the jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the thin skin of his throat. 

“But what?” Bakugo spat, something like magma roiling in his veins, pops of heat crackling against his palms like splatters of hot oil from a stove. 

“B-But this… can’t come as a complete shock to you,” the doctor said as he glanced back at his tablet. “Other physicians before myself must have warned you of the risks.” 

The risks. Bakugo bared his teeth in a silent snarl. What did this fucking extra, with his soft hands and softer body, know about risks? The heat in his palms grew until he could see their red-hot glow out of the corner of his eye. 

“Well, who and how much do I gotta pay to fix it?” Bakugo demanded as he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“That depends,” the doctor hedged and adjusted the square black glasses perched on his stupid face. “There are a variety of aid types—” 

“I don’t want fuckin’ support gear or aids,” Bakugo sneered. “I want mine fixed.” 

Now, the doctor’s face grew pitying. “I’m afraid that’s just not possible, given a number of factors, most importantly your current occupation.” 

“My current occupation?” the hero seethed, teeth bared again like a wounded dog, a cornered wolf, snapping at the world. “Are you fucking KIDDING—” 

A hint of fear sparked in the doctor’s eyes, but he suddenly raised a hand, palm out in the universal symbol for stop. “Dynamight, sir, I know this is distressing, but there are other sick patients in these walls, so please refrain from using your quirk.” 

“I’m not usin’ shit,” Bakugo snapped, but then the doctor’s eyes flicked downward, and Bakugo followed them to his hands, wreathed in sparks and flares of flames, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

The breath stuttered in Bakugo’s lungs. 

He hadn’t even felt himself call upon his quirk. 

Even worse… he hadn’t heard it when he did. 

He dropped his hands quickly, shoving them back in his pockets. Bile rose in his throat, but he washed it down with blood as he bit through his tongue. 

“There has to be… something,” he gritted out, curling his hands into fists in their confines. “A healer—” 

“Healers are rarer than you think,” the doctor sighed and shook his head. “And what’s more, they’re usually specific and limited. Their abilities are tied to blood types or restricted to relatives or even limbs. One nurse here can only heal femur bones.” 

“Bullshit they’re rare, I’ve met at least two goddamn healers just this month,” Bakugo spat. “These paramedics—” 

“And how strong where they?” the doctor cut him off again, raising an eyebrow. “You said paramedics, so I’m going to assume their talents mostly lie in the superficial and basic: triage, stopping the bleeding, knitting skin back together, etc.” 

“What’s your fucking point?” He was this close to punching the asshole right in the glasses. 

“My point is the inner workings of your ear are much more delicate than a broken rib or lacerated arm,” the doctor said in a really condescending tone that Bakugo did not appreciate. “But let’s say you do find a healer specific enough and skilled enough to restore the hearing you have already lost without damaging anything else in the process. What then? I don’t imagine Japan’s Number Two Hero retiring less than ten years after his debut and hanging up his quirk.” 

Bakugo scowled, heart kick-starting in his chest, his gut tying itself in a knot. 

No. No, that wasn’t possible. Katsuki Bakugo was a hero, the best of the best. It was all he’d ever wanted, and he would be damned if it was taken from him. 

The doctor must have seen as much on the blond’s face because he sighed and adjusted his glasses again. “Exactly. Which means you’re just going to keep destroying your ears again and again, and even if say Recovery Girl was still alive, the repetitive healing sessions would destroy your own body’s healing factor, and after a while, you would still lose you’re hearing.” 

“Tch.” Bakugo looked away and gritted his teeth so hard they ached. 

The doctor sighed. “You’re already at moderate hearing loss, Dynamight, so while we do still have some options, they are limited. Honestly… I’m surprised you didn’t come in sooner.” 

He should have. He fucking should have. He’d been noticing little things for years, but he just brushed it off, yelled at Deku to speak the fuck up and stop mumbling, told himself his phone must be a piece of shit and that’s why he didn’t hear a call or message. The low persistent ringing he’d been experiencing since UA was harder to write off, but after a while, it was also easier to ignore. 

Then, on his last mission, Bakugo was shoving some weak ass villain at a couple of cops. The battle had lasted less than five minutes, and he was still itching for a fight, his quirk burning just beneath the surface of his skin, like embers waiting to explode back into flame. In the next moment, a hand had suddenly clamped down on his shoulder from behind, and he’d reacted out of reflex, flipping his attacker over his shoulder and nearly blasting them in the gut for good measure. 

“Whoa! Fuck, dude, it’s me!” Kirishima had yelped, his skin rippling and hardening in an instant. Wide, red eyes gaped up at him, and Japan’s Number Three Hero even looked a little worried. “Didn’t you hear me? I called your name like five times.” 

Bakugo had dropped Red Riot like he was on fire. No. No, Dynamight hadn’t heard his patrol partner. In fact, all he could hear in the moment was the muted wailing of sirens, the low murmur of shouting extras, and the blood roaring in his head. 

Now, two days later he was standing in front of a doctor who was telling him there was nothing more they could do. 

But that was fucking unacceptable. He couldn’t lose his hearing. What kind of shitty hero would he be if he couldn’t hear where the villains were in battle or where stupid extras in need of saving were in rescue situations? 

He wouldn’t be a hero at all, just a fucking liability. 

Bakugo tried to imagine having to retire, to hang up his hero costume, to leave Shitty Hair in charge of their joint agency. What would he do? He’d wanted, and planned, to be a hero since he was five years old. He had no other skills, not really. It wasn’t like he could work a damn desk job. Well, UA might throw him a bone, offer him a pity faculty position. 

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. 

“What… are my options?” he asked haltingly as he snapped his eyes up and locked gazes with the doctor. “You said I still had some.” 

The man in the white coat blinked in surprise, but then he straightened up and tapped at his tablet. “Currently, you have a few options, but you’d receive the best outcome if we did them all together. First, we can get you fitted for some hearing aids for you to wear while you are off duty. They would significantly increase your hearing capacity in your normal day-to-day life.” 

Bakugo felt his face pull into a scowl. “Off duty? I need them while I’m on duty!” 

“If you wear them while using your quirk, you’ll ruin the rest of your hearing in one blow,” the doctor said with a straight face. “Hearing aids amplify sounds. Amplifying your explosions is the last thing we want.” 

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do then?” the hero snapped, heat flaring through his body with a supernova. 

“Since I assume you’re going to continue your hero work, I would recommend contacting a support gear company.” The doctor made a note on his tablet. “We’ll email you the contact information for several companies the hospital has connections with, and once you chose one, we can send them your file. There are numerous noise-cancelling devices out there, but given your situation, you will probably need to collaborate with them for something custom. The goal is to having something to protect your ears-- a helmet, headphones, anything really—while you are using your quirk. Between such a device and the hearing aids, I hope we can preserve what’s left of your hearing and maybe give you a little bit back. But I will warn you… you’re hearing will never be as it was. You should know that now.” 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

The words cycloned through Bakugo’s head, round and round and round, destroying every other thought in their path. He felt detached from himself, the doctor’s voice fizzling out into a muffled drone. His vision seemed to narrow and darken, like he was viewing the world at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. One minute, he was standing there in that examine room, and then he blinked and was on the street, people rushing past him like a river unbothered by the boulder in its current. 

He glanced down at his hand, at the paperwork for his follow up appointment and his fitting for the hearing aids. Heat squirmed under his skin, in his veins, like something living, something that wanted to get out. 

Bakugo bared his teeth, crumpled the paper in his fist, and let the heat rush through his body, down through his arm, and into his hand. He didn’t hear the crackle, but he saw the flares of light, trapped between his palm and the paperwork like fireflies. 

Then he opened his hand, and he watched the wind catch the ash and carry if off down the street, out of sight. 

He needed a fucking drink. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Several hours later, Bakugo stumbled out of his usual dive bar, the taste of whisky still burning a hole through the back of his throat. The night was colder than he anticipated, colder than it should be for the beginning of autumn, and he grumbled and cursed as he hunched against the wind. He squinted at his phone, debating on whether to call a car, but in the end it was too much trouble. He was less than a half an hour’s walk from his apartment, and it was late, so he wouldn’t have to worry about extras coming up to him for photos or goddamn autographs. 

Besides, the whisky hadn’t helped to quench the heat writhing through his veins, in fact the alcohol only made it worse. Bakugo felt restless, all pins and needles and ants, so maybe the brisk walk would burn off some of that energy. 

Decided, Bakugo turned in the direction of home and began the long, stumbling journey through the midnight streets. 

Time passed as sluggishly as his feet, which he made sure to stare down at so he didn’t trip over them. Like he anticipated, he passed no one on the sidewalks, and few cars rumbled past him. It wasn’t surprising, this neighborhood was mostly shops that closed by sundown and a few residences. The dive bar he’d left was a holdover from past decades when this side of town was rougher, but Bakugo suspected the old man who owned the joint would live on for at least another decade, if only to spite the development companies that kept trying to buy him out. The ornery bastard was half the reason Bakugo loved that bar, the other half being their decent whisky and usually empty stools. 

“Shit,” he mumbled as he suddenly slipped, tittering on the edge of the curb. 

He shook his head and managed to regain his balance, but when he took another step, he wobbled again. 

“Come on, you drunk idiot,” he hissed at himself as he stumbled once more. 

Except… he’d been standing still that time. 

“Hah?” Bakugo squinted down at his feet. 

The pebbles around his shoes rattled and jumped. He didn’t think he was that drunk, but he slapped his cheek with a bit of heat to his palm. The snap of warmth and pain woke him up a little, but when he glanced back down at the ground, everything was still moving. 

“What the fu—” 

Then the road undulated under his feet like a living thing, and the shockwave hit him a moment later. 

Bakugo barked a curse as he was bucked several feet into the air, twin explosions blooming from his palms so he could right himself and land on his feet. He snapped his head up as he skidded to a stop, and the breath stilled in his lungs. 

Up ahead, a man stood in the middle of the intersection, staring down the road to Bakugo’s left. Black rubble and goo floated around him like asteroids trapped in a planet’s orbit, and even from a distance, Bakugo could see the crazed smile on the man’s pale, black-streaked face. 

A moment later, several heroes lunged out from around the corner and barreled straight for the villain, only to be blasted backwards as the villain flung out his hands and commanded the black debris and goo to slam into the idiots. 

The villain threw back his head and seemed to laugh maniacally. Bakugo couldn’t hear it, but that didn’t matter. Lava was starting to boil in his veins, burning off the last of the whisky, and Dynamight felt an equally crazed smile stretch across his mouth. 

This idiot had chosen the wrong road to fuck up tonight. 

Heat condensed in his palms like collapsing stars, and then he was exploding forward, the taste of ozone and nitroglycerin on his tongue. 

Within moments, Bakugo was able to determine the villain’s quirk revolved around asphalt. The bastard was able to pull large chunks of it out of the road and then liquify parts of them until they were scalding and sticky. 

The other heroes—whoever they were, Bakugo didn’t even care to check—struggled to evade the villain’s attacks, but evasion wasn’t Dynamight’s style. He came at the bastard head on, exploding every rock and tar puddle in his way. 

Of course, asphalt was flammable, so flames were flaring up all around the street now, but Bakugo wasn’t stupid enough to get burned. If the other heroes were, that was on them. 

Dynamight was here to get the job done. 

“Come here, ya sonvabitch,” Bakugo snarled as he blasted apart a chunk of asphalt aimed for his head. 

The villain shrieked out something high-pitched that Bakugo didn’t catch, and then the fucker was swinging out his arm, a blob of black tar following the arc. 

Bakugo let out a controlled burst toward his feet and backflipped through the air, crunching down on the roof of a parked car. He could see some of the other heroes waving at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the wailing of the car alarm below him. 

The villain’s sneer was a white slash on his black, goo-streaked face, and Bakugo bared his teeth back in an expression halfway between a feral grin and a beast’s snarl. He could feel the heat crackling along his palms as he contemplated his next move, but then the villain shouted something, and all the asphalt floating in the air rocketed back towards him like the fucker was a magnet. 

As Bakugo watched, the debris and goo coalesced into a singular shape, liquifying and hardening in turns until a giant black arm the size of a semi was hovering over the road. The fingers wiggled in a jaunty little wave as the villain shouted something again that was lost to the car’s still wailing alarm, and then the giant hand curled into a fist and dropped down on Bakugo like the hammer of some god. 

He exploded out of the way and up into the air right before the fist smashed into the car he’d been standing on, and the siren cut out with a muffled crunch. 

Bakugo had barely landed before the arm was shooting out again, but this time it wasn’t aimed for him. 

A stupid fucking extra had stumbled out of one of the buildings and stood gaping like a goddamn moron on the sidewalk. Several of the on-scene heroes rushed forward, but the hand swatted them aside like annoying flies. The idiot civilian was still just standing there, though, and Bakugo found himself airborne before he could even process the thought. 

“Run!” he roared as he reached the extra and shoved him out of the way, but an instant later, he felt stony fingers wrap around his torso and squeeze. 

Bakugo wheezed out a curse as the giant hand lifted him into the sky, the pressure around his ribs increasing with every second. The asphalt was hot in some places, too, scalding the skin of his left arm where it was pinned against his hip. He wrenched his right arm around and tried to aim at the wrist of the asphalt appendage, but the angle was off, and the few chunks he was able to blast were quickly replaced by more rubble and boiling tar. 

“Fuck!” Bakugo screamed as the fist clenched down around him. His ribs strained, his lungs unable to expand, pain licking at him like the flames flickering in his peripherals. 

Distantly, he heard the villain’s laughter below him, and as the arm swayed to the side, Bakugo realized he was right above the bastard. His vision swam, his ribs screaming, his arm burning, but Bakugo gritted his teeth as he aimed his right palm down. He concentrated every ounce of his quirk into his hand until it glowed white-hot, and the asphalt around him began to liquefy again. 

The villain’s eyes widened as he realized what the hero was doing, and the fucker wildly swung out his arm in a last-ditch effort. The giant asphalt limb responded in kind, but Bakugo unleashed his quirk right before the arm flung him through the air. 

A massive explosion rocked the street an instant later, and the subsequent shockwave slammed into his back and propelled him through a window. 

He felt the impact and pain as he struck the glass, and then… 

Nothing. 

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

“Ouch, fuck!” you cursed as your pricked yourself for the millionth time. 

A red drop of blood beaded up on the pad of your index finger, and you scowled before you sucked the smarting appendage into your mouth. It was more of a reflex than anything, since by the time you pulled your finger out, the pinprick of a wound was already healed. Healing such a small injury would usually barely even register to you, but the clock above your desk was inching closer and closer to midnight, and you’d been up since 6am. You also skipped dinner so you could finish altering the dress you were currently working on, which didn’t help your energy levels, but you were just a few stitches away from completing your task, so you hunched back over and powered through the next five minutes. 

When you were finally done, you sat back in your chair with a sigh and threw down your needle and thread. The sewing table before you swam and doubled as your vision struggled to focus on something, and you rubbed at your tired, burning eyes. You always tried to work reasonable hours, have a healthy work-life balance, but somehow you always found yourself slaving away into the dark hours of the night. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your fault. You’d lived here less than a year, so you didn’t know many people beyond your few neighbors and the old ladies who frequented your alterations shop. 

You were also trying very hard to keep your grandparents’ business afloat. 

Your grandfather had been a tailor, your grandmother a seamstress. They’d opened a shop together over fifty years ago, and if your parents hadn’t moved to America before you were born, you were sure you father would have taken over the family business. In the end, though, after your grandparents passed, you were the one to take up the needle and pull up your roots. You’d always loved making your own clothes, and you’d always felt… disconnected in America. Nothing had ever felt… right, no matter how many jobs you hopped around to. The US had been the only home you’d ever known, but when you and your parents spoke Japanese together, it had made something ache deep in the center of you, something you couldn’t name or place. 

So, when your father said he was taking a trip to the homeland to sell his parents’ shop, you’d gone with him and somehow convinced him to sign everything over to you. Which was more than just a little insane. Your prior work history had been in food service and clothing retail, and your degree was in linguistics for fuck’s sake. You had no idea how to run a business, let alone in another country. Thankfully, you spoke Japanese fluently, so that had been one less hurtle to overcome, but everything else had been a dramatic learning curve. Getting to know the new city, figuring out the currency, hell even navigating the vastly different social norms of Japanese culture was daunting, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have numerous fumbles along the way. 

It, everything, had definitely taken some getting used to. 

Now, a year later, things were just starting to really look up. You had used most of the money your grandparents left you to renovate the shop, get new equipment, and fix the upstairs apartment you lived in. About two dozen loyal customers helped to pay your bills and keep you afloat, and one-to-two new customers walked into your shop each month just on word of mouth. You weren’t rich by any means, but you weren’t struggling like you did in America. You felt… happy here, if a little tired. Fulfilled. 

That might also have had something to do with your little… side business. 

You bit your lip as your eyes shot to your window guiltily, like someone was watching you. You weren’t doing anything wrong—right now, anyways—but for the last six months, it’s been hard to shake off your paranoia. 

And your guilt. Which was ridiculous. You weren’t hurting anyone. In fact, you were doing the exact opposite. 

But it was still against the law. Here in Japan, at least. 

That was another thing that took some getting used to. The Japanese government had strict laws on quirk usage, unlike in America where everything was about individualistic rights. In Japan, only heroes were given almost free reign, but even they had some restrictions on when and how they could use their powers. 

For the rest of the Japanese populace, using quirks in day-to-day life, without official permission, was frowned upon at best and illegal at worst. 

Because of your specific quirk, you leaned more toward the illegal side of things. 

Healing quirks were rare. That’s what you’d been told all your life. Your mother’s quirk was the ability to lower fevers by somehow using her own body to regulate the temperature. Nothing super special or powerful, but she’d gone on to become a pediatric nurse, so she had used her quirk to its fullest and made a long, happy career for herself. 

When you were young and your quirk manifested, you thought you would follow in your mother’s footsteps. 

But as a teenager, you’d come to some hard realizations about yourself. 

One, you weren’t strong enough to be a hero. You’d tried to get into a hero course in the States, several in fact. One course rejected you solely on your application, and then you failed two entrance exams. It had been a devastating blow to your youthful dreams and self-esteem, but your mother encouraged you, said being a hero wasn’t the only way to use your quirk for good. 

So, you turned your focus to medicine… and quickly discovered that wasn’t right for you, either. Your mother hated when you said this but… you just weren’t smart enough. You had tried, really did, but everything was such a struggle, like Sisyphus slogging uphill through the mud. It just didn’t click for you like it did for your mom. You also hated to admit it, but you were a little squeamish. You were fine with small stuff, cuts and bruises, broken fingers, but once you had to dissect a large pig in an anatomy class, and the smell and weight of the pig’s slippery organs in your hands made your lunch rise up into the back of your throat. You somehow managed to make it through the class, but directly after you ran to the bathroom and emptied your own guts into the toilet. 

With your dreams of being a hero and doctor dashed, you’d been a little aimless in college, taking random courses to fill your time and see if anything spoke to you. Then, during an 8am linguistics lecture you signed up for on a whim, something ignited inside you. Languages spoke to you like science and medicine never did. So, you’d changed your major to linguistics, minored in Japanese to feel closer to your parents, and took ever other language credit you could get your hands on. In between classes, you’d taken up sewing again while you listened to your audio assignments. It was just something to keep your hands busy at first, a skill your father taught you as a child until you abandoned it, but then your roommates complimented your work and started asking you to hem their jeans or take in their skirts. They offered to pay you, but you always declined, saying it was no trouble, you liked the work, and you liked being able to help. 

At some point, you realized that was all you had ever wanted to do. Help people. And if you couldn’t save them as a hero, you would find some other way to make yourself useful. 

So, you studied languages in the hopes of being able to help others communicate. You altered your friends’ clothes and made them small things like a monogrammed scarf or mittens. And, occasionally, you healed your roommates’ hangovers or food poisoning, stopped the bleeding when they cut their fingers making dinner, pushing through their pain to make them whole again. It wasn’t a lot, nothing really, but it was something, and it made you feel purposeful. 

When you moved to Japan, you mourned the loss of being able to use your quirk on others, but you shoved the thought aside and focused on your work and the shop and figuring out how to settle down in your first home on your own. 

Then, six months after you took over the shop, Mrs. Kojima, a little old lady in her seventies, had brought in her grandchildren’s uniforms to be patched and altered. She’d known your grandparents for many years, so she was always kind and had a story to share with you about your father in his youth or the gorgeous dresses your grandmother used to make. You always looked forward to Mrs. Kojima’s visits, and she always had a way of making you feel younger than you were, but not in a bad way. She just made you feel… nostalgic and safe, like you were listening to your late grandma talk over the phone. 

This was probably why, when Mrs. Kojima slipped and fell in front of your counter, you reacted without thinking. The old lady barely had time to hit the floor and cry out before you were hovering over her, a green aura illuminating your hands. Her pain hit you a moment later, like a heated slap to the face, a bone-deep ache in your leg, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through the discomfort. Then you moved your fingers over to the hip Mrs. Kojima was clutching, and a moment later you felt the drain as your energy siphoned into the elderly woman’s body. Thankfully, it had only been a fracture, not a full break, so you barely even felt the difference in your strength, but as Mrs. Kojima gaped up at you, realization struck you like a freight train. 

You had used your quirk, without a license, without permission, hell without the consent of Mrs. Kojima. Healing quirks were illegal for a reason, so many things could go wrong, and you weren’t properly trained. Your breathing hitched as panic seized your heart, squeezing like a vise, and your entire world had just begun to crash down around your ears when Mrs. Kojima sat up and threw her arms around you. 

“Thank you,” she’d sniffled into your hair in Japanese. “Thank you so much.” 

After the initial shock wore off, you had helped Mrs. Kojima into a chair, and she’d continued to thank you over and over again, saying how money was tight and she would have hated to be a burden to her children with hospital bills and a long recovery. She talked about how a lot of her elderly friends were in similar positions, dealing with perpetual aches and pains but having no way to pay for treatment or seek relief. 

The sadness in her face had twisted something in your chest, an ache you were all too familiar with. It was the one you felt after you failed the hero course entrance exams. The ache you felt when you realized you could never be a doctor. The ache of being helpless in the face of suffering. 

Your mouth had opened without your permission, and you told Mrs. Kojima that you would help her, and her friends, whenever they needed it. The elderly Japanese woman tried to wave you off, saying she didn’t want to get you in any trouble, but you had just smiled and said, “I’m fine with making a little good trouble.” 

You didn’t know where your courage had come from, but you let it carry you past your fears and doubts. 

So, for the last six months, Mrs. Kojima had brought all of her friends, and sometimes their children and grandchildren, to you when they were in need of healing. They always brought dresses or pants or blouses for you to fix as a cover, and you did do alterations work for them, but you also eased flaring arthritis, cataracts, fevers, and scrapped knees in the backroom. You refused to take payment for these secret services, it just felt wrong, but the little old ladies somehow always snuck large “tips” into your register when you weren’t looking. 

Mrs. Kojima and every one of her friends and family members swore to their ancestors to keep your secret, and you trusted them, but you still couldn’t help proverbially looking over your shoulder, holding your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the police to barge in and take you away. 

It hadn’t happened yet, but the worry of it kept you up most nights, which was maybe another reason why you threw yourself into your work until you were so tired you just passed out. 

You sighed again as you stretched and felt your back pop, releasing some of the tension in your spine. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just past midnight, and you winced. You had to be up at five tomorrow—today, now—because Mr. Akane wanted to come in early before you opened the shop. His bad knee was giving him trouble again, an old injury he’d obtained as a boy. You were unable to fully reconstruct the joint—that took more strength and stamina than you currently possessed—but you were able to soothe his pain for weeks at a time, which he was immensely grateful for. He always brought you fresh fish when he came by, “gifts” he’d emphasized when you reminded him you didn’t take payment, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture. You weren’t exactly hurting for money, but you also didn’t normally splurge on fish caught just that morning, and you told yourself you deserved the small treat. Besides, the protein helped boost your energy and stamina levels, which meant you could heal more people, so really Mr. Akane was merely investing in his future treatments. 

Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and you dragged yourself out of your chair before picking your way across your messy apartment to the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t very large, one large space for kitchen, dining, and living room, with one small bedroom and one bathroom down a hallway to the right when you walked in the front door. But it had been your grandparent’s home for many years before they bought a larger house after having your father, and it sat right above the shop, so you never had to worry about running late for work.

Bolts of fabric, some client pieces, and a few of your own personal sewing projects were strewn over every available surface of the main room, but you had the cleared path through the chaos memorized, so you were tossing leftovers in the microwave barely thirty seconds later. The warmed-up curry and rice—another “gift” from Mrs. Kojima—tasted as good as it had the last several days, and you hummed as the spiced meat slid down your throat and settled in your belly. After the first bite, your hunger seemed to hit you in full force, and you scarfed down every last bite in a matter of minutes. When you were done, the minor headache that had been pulsing behind your eyes abated, and you yawned as you rinsed off the dishes. 

You set the damp plate on the edge of the counter as you reached for a towel, but then a sudden tremor, followed by a loud boom, seemed to shake the building, and the plate tittered on the counter’s edge for a moment before it crashed to the floor. 

“Fuck!” you gasped as you jumped back and away from the ceramic shards, but another tremor-boom combo had you stumbling, and you scrambled to grab the back of the couch so you didn’t fall on your ass. 

Your wide eyes took in the broken plate scattered at your feet before they jumped to the window on the opposite side of the room. The night sky was dark beyond, cut only by the dim street light just beyond the window’s view. You held your breath as your heart hammered in your ears, the hair on the back of your neck prickling, sweat slicking your palms. 

What the fuck was that? Your first thought was earthquake—you hadn’t experienced one yet, but you knew they were common in Japan—but then you remembered the booms. 

Maybe… maybe an electrical box blew? But no, the lights were still working. A car crash? 

Then another boom vibrated you down to your very bones, and you fell to one knee as the breath hitched in your lungs. 

That sounded… closer. 

With your heart in your throat, you half scrambled, half crawled the last few feet to your window, and you peeked your head over the sill just as a flash off white-hot light lit up the night sky. 

“Shit!” You squinted your eyes against the glare as you leaned back from the window, but then you saw a shadow streak through the air before it crashed into a car just at the edge of your peripherals. 

You had the distant thought that Mr. Takeyoshi’s vehicle was very obviously totaled before you realized the thing that had crashed into the car was a person. 

Your jaw gaped open as a hero pulled himself from the wreckage and shook his head groggily. The shadows—only broken by more flares of light as more explosions and fire seemed to erupt along the street—made it difficult to tell how injured the hero was. You didn’t recognize their yellow and teal costume, but you saw patches of blood along the hero’s bulky frame, and bile burned at the back of your teeth. 

Holy shit. This wasn’t an accident. It was a villain attack. 

Just as you had the thought, another explosion rattled your windows, making your ears ring, and you snapped your head to the side to see a man standing in the middle of the road about half a block down. 

The man—villain, you realized quickly—swung his arms around like a conductor of an orchestra, but his instruments seemed to be the black rocks and liquid swirling around him. The debris glistened like an oil slick in the light of the flames, and as you watched, the villain shouted something and slashed his arm through the air. 

Then a figure suddenly exploded onto the scene, lunging out from the shadows in a flare of white-hot light. It moved too fast for you to track, but the villain swung his arm again, and rocks and viscous black goo shot toward the figure still in mid-air. 

A futile scream of warning caught in your throat, but then the figure seemed to explode and backflip through the air, landing on his feet but crushing the roof of a car beneath his boots. The wailing of the car’s alarm split the air, and you clenched your teeth until they ached. 

The flames illuminated this new man’s face, a snarl of white teeth against the flames and smoke, but only the barest hint of recognition flared through you before everything exploded into chaos again. Another shout from the villain had all the rocks and black slime streaking back towards him, and you watched in horror as a stony black arm fifty feet long formed above the ruined street. 

You knew you should be running, trying to find cover, calling the police, but you were glued there, on your knees before the window, you fingers digging grooves into the sill. 

The next fifteen seconds seemed to simultaneously happen in slow motion and at hyper speed. 

The giant rocky hand wiggled its fingers before it curled into a fist and slammed down on the wailing car and the man atop it. 

The man—hero, you distantly thought, although your chaotic thoughts still couldn’t place him—launched up into the air with another explosion that rattled your windows, the car alarm cutting off as the vehicle was crushed an instant later. 

The blond skidded into a landing half a dozen yards away, but then you suddenly saw Mr. Takeyoshi standing on the street, a ghostly apparition framed by smoke and flames. 

You blinked, and the giant hand shot toward Mr. Takeyoshi, batting away several more heroes who tried to intervene. 

Then the explosive hero was just there, pushing Mr. Takeyoshi out of the way, right before the hand wrapped around him. 

You could hear the hero’s anguished scream through your window as he was crushed in the fist’s grip, and the sound hit you right in the solar plexus, knocking the breath out of you, bruising your insides, the pain settling into the familiar ache of being helpless in the face of suffering. 

You watched uselessly as the hero was lifted up into the sky, struggling, setting off explosions left and right. Then the massive arm seemed to pause in the middle of the road, right above the villain, and your eyes locked onto the hero, his pale hair and skin stark against the black, rocky hand that held him trapped. 

In the next instant, a white light, like a star going supernova, bloomed to life around the hero, illuminating the white slash of his snarling teeth before it became too bright for you to take. You slammed your eyes shut against the burning light, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, like the moment before lightning struck, as you dropped to the floor below your window. 

Then the world exploded, the building shaking to its foundations, right before the window burst into a million shards of glass.

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 12 - Muse

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Fluff, Rough Sex (Light but Consensual), Light Degradation, Role-play (Reader In French Maid Outfit), Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Making Out With Gojo, NSFW, Unprotected Sex

Summary: You keep your promise to Gojo and the two of you enjoy a little bit of roleplaying.

A/N: I know it's been a while since I posted last. Here is the updated chapter (she is kind of long) and it's basically 5% plot where everything else is smut. I have been reading this same thing for over a week and spent most of today editing, so I hope it's fine! Please keep in mind again that I do not have a beta, and will highly miss a lot of things or even misspell them. I hope you enjoy the chapter!  Requests are still open! I currently write for Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna and Choso. Please make sure I can see your age on your profile, otherwise you will be ignored (minors dni) 

- - - 

(Three Years Ago)

“Looks like someone is being spoiled…”

You glanced around your apartment that has been completely decorated in flowers. You started grinning like an idiot thinking of Haru’s promise to give you a garden before replying, “ it’s a long story... ”

“ Soo , things worked out after the failed anniversary dinner?” Gojo questioned, noticing the way you shyly bit your bottom lip as you returned your attention back onto the T.V. screen.

“ Yes, they did …” you answered casually, still holding that pretty smile on your lips. You were clicking the button on the remote as you switched between movies to pick one to watch for the evening. “I don’t think I gave you the full update…”

Gojo took a sip of his melon soda, before leaning back comfortably against your couch. “No you did not. Last time we spoke you told me you were going away for the weekend. So tell me, how did prince charming work his way back into your good graces?”

Hakone , the weekend getaway; memories of you and Haru’s trip flooded back to your mind. The onsen experience, strolling through nature by day, visiting art galleries and losing sleep at night just to make love…

“It was… perfect.” you whispered breathlessly, your heart skipping a beat after you gave Gojo the brief explanation.

“ How romantic… ” the sorcerer replied, doing little to hide the hint of sarcasm in his tone.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, nudging your elbow playfully into his stomach. “Don’t be such a killjoy…”

From behind his dark frames, Gojo was reading your body language when you spoke. He pressed his lips together, not wanting to take away the happiness you were basking in and burying the thought that lingered his mind.

“You really love him, don’t you?” he asked again, his eyes glued onto you as he patiently waited for your reply.

Your cheeks went warm and your reaction was to adorably bury your face into the palm of your hands, desperately trying to fight off the butterflies swarming in your stomach. You leaned back on the couch next to your friend, dropping your hands down by your sides as you tilted your neck to face him.

“ Hopelessly so… ”

Gojo swallowed hard, a sinking sensation pummeled through his gut upon hearing your words. Your eyes flickered when you noticed how his expression hardened but he quickly switched to a big grin.

“As long as you’re happy … ” he reassured, giving you a thumbs up.

“I am, very much so …”

“ Good!” Gojo replied, but the word tasted sour in his mouth and he quickly changed the subject. “Now let’s get back to picking our movie…”

What the hell am I supposed to do now? he thought to himself, the disappointment weighing heavy on his heart.

I can’t tell her yet…

I’ll just have to wait...

(Present)

Gojo was exhausted. His day was tiresome and everything seemed to be getting on his last nerves. His morning started off on a bad note thanks to the higher ups. Itadori Yuji swallowing one of Sukuna’s fingers was not what he expected but now he had a problem on his hands involving the life of another teenager.

A talented kid at that, Itadori definitely had potential...

Gojo was good at hiding his frustrations from his students, and even from some of his peers. However, the minute he stepped into the lobby of his apartment building, the weight of his day came crashing down on his shoulders. He exited the elevator, slowly making his way over towards his apartment door but paused for a second before entering inside the safe haven of his home.

He immediately sensed your presence.

You called him earlier when he was at the school, asking if you could stop by his place to pick up something that you had forgotten.

“Just ask the security to let you in, I’ll give them a heads up and inform them... ” Gojo distractedly replied before ending the call.

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly to himself, thinking that maybe you decided to stick around and hang out at his place.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked, as he stepped through the threshold of his front door. “Did you really miss me that mu-uhhhhhh…”

Gojo dropped his keycard on the floor, his mouth agape as he took in the sight of you standing before him. His heart literally stopped beating for a whole second and the sorcerer found himself frozen in the entrance of his living room.

“ Gojo-san,” you purred, turning your heel from the large glass window you were wiping and smiling as you faced him directly. “ You’re home...”

Catching the great Gojo Satoru by surprise was something rare but you managed to do it with ease because he always had his guard down around you.

Gojo admired the outfit you were wearing. Your black dress was short, very short, with the bodice buttoned all the way up to your neck and little puffy sleeves covering your shoulders. The white apron you were wearing over it was trimmed with little frills, matching the detailing along the collar. His mouth went dry when he reached your legs covered in a pair of stockings but he noticed the single garter wrapped around your thigh adorned with a tiny bow. You were wearing black pointed high heels to match the ensemble, adding a decent amount of inches to your height. The cherry on top was the white silky headband that was pulling back your beautiful hair.

Gojo had given up on your promise weeks ago, thinking there was no possible way you might actually follow through with his idea.

Yet, here you were , dressed up in a french maid outfit.

You placed the cloth in your hand in the basket on your floor. Your heels clicking against the wooden surface and echoing around his quiet penthouse apartment as you approached him, holding your head high as you confidently nestled into the role you were playing.

You gripped his attention, but couldn’t see how shocked he was from behind his dark sunglasses. As you stood in front of him you bent down to pick up the key card before elegantly standing upright and holding it up to his face.

“You dropped this,” you stated quite matter of factly, batting your lashes at him innocently.

The man had been rendered speechless.

You raised your brow as the seconds passed, waiting for Gojo to say... something.

He could sense your heart beat increase, as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other and you nervously glanced away from his direction. You dropped the act for a minute as you placed your hands around your waist to look down at the outfit you were wearing.

“ Uhm … did I do this wrong ? This is the only outfit I could find online that was even close to the idea you had and it took weeks to actually get here. I can...I can try to find another dress if this isn’t what you li-”

Gojo cupped your face in his hands, interrupting your comment and tilting your head up so you were looking at him as he snapped himself out of the trance you seemed to have put him under.

“No! No, no no …you look… fuck… you just caught me by surprise…” he replied, a wave of excitement rushing through him as he stumbled over his words. He proceeded to lower his sunglasses so you were met with azure eyes, softening his gaze as a cheeky grin spread across his gorgeous face. “You look ...perfect…”

He stretched out that last word, ensuring to savour every part of you. Your face grew warm but you couldn’t help but smirk with approval that all your hard efforts into this costume worked their magic on your friend.

“Really?” you questioned in a hopeful tone, reaching for his wrist and giving him a squeeze. “I’m glad! You worried me for a second…”

Gojo leaned forward to kiss you, the heavy weight he bore when he stepped into his home dissipating as he tasted you on his tongue. Once he had his fill of you, he broke away from the kiss before casually walking backwards and instructing, “don’t mind me, I’m just going to step out for a second so we can properly start this over…”

You giggled before turning around and making your way back to your position next to his window. Gojo noticed your white slip peak from under your skirt, and he gently bit down on his knuckle unable to contain his own anticipation.

This is going to be fun, he thought.

When he stepped back inside his apartment it was with a totally different demeanor. He cleared his throat as he made his way over, noticing your face playfully light up before repeating your initial greeting:

“ Gojo-san, you’re home... ”

***

One hour.

You had the man stirring for an entire hour.

Gojo didn’t think you would take this as seriously as you did but you were putting on a performance for him.

At first he sat in the living room, watching you mindlessly wipe his spotless windows and bending over ever so slightly for him to peep under your skirt. He impatiently tapped his finger against his thigh, knowing full well that he was not allowed to touch you unless you touched him first .

That was the rule you both agreed on.

When Gojo realised that you weren’t planning on giving in so easily, he used the moment as an opportunity to change out of his uniform but that didn’t stop you from being a tease.

While he was in his room, he switched to a pair of comfortable sweatpants and just as he was about to slip on his hoodie, you barged into his bedroom.

“ I’m sorry to intrude…” you announced innocently, sauntering your way over with your eyes lingering on his abdominal muscles and lifting up his half-filled laundry basket. “ I just needed to wash these…”

Gojo pressed his tongue to his cheek, shaking his head at you as he moved to his drawer to replace his shades with his blindfold, knowing full well you were going to draw this out for as long as you can.

Maybe this is payback…

Gojo returned to the living room, his eyes fixated on the television screen as a way to distract himself from you.

After you did a few meaningless chores, you picked up the feather duster from your equipment basket and directed yourself into his line of sight. You began to “ dust ” off his shelves, swaying your hips deliberately from side to side as you walked in front of him.

“ I hope you don’t mind me in your way, Gojo-san …” you said serenely, flicking the duster over the random items on his shelf.

“Not at all…” the sorcerer replied, his voice smooth as silk when he spoke. “But you should know you missed a spot…”

You raised your brow as you glanced over your shoulder to meet his stare.

“ Oh ?”

Gojo spread his legs further apart, resting his long arm on the back of the sofa before bringing his other hand forward to point high on his shelf.

“Right there,” he indicated.

You hummed to yourself, knowing full well that Gojo wanted to see more of what you were hiding underneath your outfit. As you stood on your tiptoes, you deliberately arched your back to stick out your rear in his direction.

Gojo trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, humming in approval and deciding in that moment just how he plans on eventually fucking you in this cute outfit of yours.

“A little higher…” he commanded, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes as you “cleaned” his top shelf, and he felt himself harden against his pants when the fabric of your dress just barely covered your ass.

The minutes passed, dragging slowly until the sorcerer found himself growing impatient. The longer you were making him wait, the more cruel he was planning on delivering his own punishment in return.

“May I get you some water, Gojo-san?” you asked him, snapping him out of his own thoughts as you made your way over to the kitchen. “You look a little thirsty…”

Oh yes, he definitely wasn’t going to hold himself back…

“ Please…” he said through gritted teeth.

You made your way over to the kitchen, pulling out one of the random trays he had and placing a glass right in the middle. You fill it up with ice before pouring in the water, then lifting up the tray and making your way over to him.

“ Here you go…” you offered, but instead of picking up the glass with your fingers, you deliberately knocked it over, allowing the cool liquid to pour all over Gojo’s lap.

The man hissed, surprised that you caught him off guard yet again with your tactic. The water pooled between his thighs, making his muscles tense up even more.

You captured your bottom lip between your teeth, the goosebumps running up and down your arms when you noticed the outline of his dick against his sweatpants.

Staring at him with your knowing, apologetic eyes, you proceeded to say, “I’m so sorry, let me get something to help you dry up…”

When you returned, you found your place down on your knees in front of him. You pressed the dry towel against his inner thigh, earning a grunt in response because your touch was close to his growing erection.

Your other hand glided up his calf, sending your message across as Gojo’s eyes widened when that same hand replaced the towel.

Fucking finally, he thought, no longer frustrated by his own desire or the fact that he was now soaking wet.

“I can dry these with the rest of the clothes…” you explained, lifting yourself upright on your knees. “I’m going to have to take these off..”

You hooked your hands around the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down his lean legs and removing them.

“What about these?” Gojo asked, tilting his head towards his tented boxers. “I’m soaked all the way through…”

“ Uhm… of course!” you chirped, as you removed the second article of clothing. “I’ll get these dry for you right away…”

As you tried to stand up, Gojo reached for your forearms and dragged you back down on the rug.

“What about this?” he asked, directing your attention towards the length of his swollen cock.

“I-I don’t know if I can help you with that,” you teased, averting your gaze as you feigned shyness.

“I pay you to use your hands, don’t I?” Gojo questioned.

“ Yes, Gojo-san …”

“Then you should do whatever it takes.”

Gojo could have sworn he saw you smirk but you were swift to hide your reaction. You brought your hand to his length as you began to stroke upward, circling your thumb around his swollen tip. Your other hand teasingly traced a vein up and down his shaft, and Gojo exhaled as his body relaxed against his plush sofa.

You squeezed his cock, feeling the width of his hard member as you continued teasing his head. You spread the pre-cum all over the tip, before bringing your lips down and replacing your thumb with your tongue as you swirled around the head before finally sealing your mouth over him.

You gently suck, your cheeks hollowing but you remain focused on just his head. The hand that isn’t holding his shaft moved to his thigh, where you gave him an eager squeeze as you tasted him in your mouth.

Meanwhile, Gojo leaned his head back against the sofa, closing his eyes as he hummed with relief. The low rumble of his voice spread down his abdomen, and your ears perked upon hearing his satisfied reaction.

You released him with a pop, before adjusting your position so your forearms were now resting over his thighs.

Gojo was average in thickness but his length definitely made up for it and you wanted to get comfortable before taking him all the way in.

You guided him into your mouth, easing him down inch by inch as you bobbed over his impressive length. Your hands pressed into his thighs, a small whimper escaping you as your teeth grazed lightly over his cock while you expertly worked him.

“You keep doing this and I might consider increasing your pay…” Gojo murmured, half-drunk with arousal as he began losing himself to you.

You quickened your pace, ignoring the discomfort in your jaw as you let him fuck your mouth. Gojo reached his hand to the back of your neck, gently stroking you with his slender fingers as encouragement. His chest began to rise and fall as his breathing grew heavier.

“ Keep going …” he coaxed, his voice shaking and growing tender. He rolled his hips in rhythm to your movement while your hands began massaging his legs and working their way high up to his pelvis.

His fingers curled around your hair, your throat burning but you kept going not wanting to disappoint your esteemed employer.

“ Mmm , F-fuck… ” he whined, his words sweet in your ears as he reached his peak.

Gojo’s hips bucked into you and he held you in place, releasing thick ropes of cum in the back of your throat as he moaned.

His grip was tight around your head and you tried not to gag as you swallowed everything he gave you. You slowly retracted him out of your mouth, desperately catching your breath in between small coughs as you settled yourself.

“Such a beautiful mess…” Gojo complimented as he looked down at you from where he was sitting.

Your chin was covered with  your saliva, your perfectly styled hair unraveling from his grip and your smokey eye makeup smudged. Gojo flicked his fingers in his direction, ordering you to get on his lap.

Your knees hurt when you stand up, the cheap fabric of your stockings already wearing from the friction against the rug. You spread your legs as you straddled him, lifting the hem of your dress up as you adjusted your position.

“ Well, well…what have we here… ” he cooed when you flashed him. “Hold your dress up for me…”

Your face grew hot but you obediently obliged as you bunched up the dress to your waist, giving Gojo a full view of your stockings that covered your bare pussy.

Gojo dragged his index finger along your slit, your arousal stringing on the tip of his finger as he pulled away from you.

You were completely soaked through.

“ Do you always show up to work without any underwear on?” he teased, bringing his finger back between your legs  and pushing the material of your stockings between your lips.

“Only when I know I am seeing you…” you replied seductively.

“Is that so?” Gojo mused, biting his bottom lip as he focused on his finger circling your folds. “How professional…”

“Actually I'm very unprofessional. I have something to confess, Gojo-san …” you whispered, dropping your dress as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his ear before stating, “…I touch myself whenever you’re not home .”

Gojo froze his movements. You were doing everything he described when talking about this particular fantasy: the hot maid that he comes home to who teases him into fucking her.

Oh, and you were playing the role beautifully.  

“Did you do that today?” The man questioned, directing it towards you and not the character you were pretending to be.

You giggled in his ear, “ twice .”

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, his free hand that wasn’t between your legs reached for his blindfold. He lifted the fabric, where a pretty blue iris was staring at you with sheer adoration.

“ Oh, angel, you continue to surprise me…”

“None of that, yet…” you announced, covering his eye as you pulled his wrist away. “ We’re still playing, Gojo-san.”

On that reply, Gojo reached for the band of your stockings. He ripped the flimsy fabric with his strong hands, tearing it straight down the middle before picking you up and laying your back against the arm rest.

“I’m going to have to start putting security cameras around the place,” he added, getting back into the role as he slipped off his hoodie. “But I think I would prefer seeing you with my own eyes…”

He instantly noticed the way you checked him out, your gaze hungry for his body. He lifted up your dress, bunching it up at the waist to reveal your torn undergarment. Your sweet pussy was glistening with your arousal and Gojo licked his lips with anticipation. He raised one of your legs over the sofa, leaving the other  to dangle off the side and exposing you completely to him.

“ Touch yourself.”

You brought your fingers to your fold, working your throbbing clit as you closed your eyes. Your body was electric, riled up to the point where you were already so sensitive as you rubbed yourself. Soft whimpers left your lips and Gojo held your knees apart as he watched you masturbate.

“Are you always this quiet?” He teased, “A dirty slut like you begging to be fucked…I’m sure you get louder than that…”

If you weren’t so heated by everything that was going on, you would have been caught off guard by what he was saying but instead you moaned at his derogatory words.

The character you were playing began blending in his mind with your own person, his dear friend, and the thought of you eagerly pleasing him made the blood rush between his legs, his arousal making him harden again.

“You hear that?” Gojo continued, knowing full well how much you enjoy his dirty talk and pointing out the way your pussy squelched as your fingers drove themselves inside you. “You’re so fucking wet and I hardly even touched you. Are you that needy already? Are you that desperate for someone to fuck this pussy of yours?”

“Y-yes…”

“Do you call out my name when you make yourself come? Do you beg for it?”

“ Mmmm, yes, Gojo-san…want you so bad …”

“If you want me to fuck you, you little slut , you’re going to have to tell me how much you want it…”

You gasped, your free hand reaching to massage your breast over your uniform as you finally opened your hazy eyes to meet Gojo’s. Your heart was racing, your body gyrating against his sofa as you slipped your fingers between your folds.

“ Mmahh, Gojo-san, I want you to fuck me on this couch. I want to feel you inside me. P-please, I need you inside me…so fucking bad…I can’t…I ca-” you voice pitched as you increased the speed of your movements, rolling your hips in circles and your dropped your head back against the arm rest.

You came all over your fingers, your orgasm hitting you hard, as you sang your noises of pleasure. You were trembling against the chair, panting heavily as you pulled your fingers from between your legs.

Gojo flipped you on your stomach, unable to hold himself back any longer. Your hands were on the arm rest, your knees pressed into the plush cushion as you spread yourself as wide as you could for him. Usually, Gojo would enjoy taking this time to lick your sweet cunt clean but he was barely holding on himself after what he witnessed.

The tip of his cock teased your lips, before he slipped himself inside you with ease, coating his entire length with your arousal. Your eyes widened as you looked at him over your shoulder with slight panic.

“Satoru, you’re not wearing a…”

“I’ll pull out…” he replied, holding your hips up before snapping roughly into you.

You were dizzy, completely functioning on your urges without giving logic any thought. If it was anyone else, you would have stopped but Gojo wasn’t just anybody and the man had quite the control over his own body.

You cried out feeling your walls clench around him. He was moving hard and fast, fucking you roughly on his sofa, with every push harder than the last and leaving your legs trembling as you tried your best to hold yourself in place for him.

He drags his length out of you, ensuring that you felt every inch before wildly plunging back inside. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs against your stockings, your nails digging into the sofa as you whimpered.

Your drenched cunt made it so much easier for Gojo to fuck you but his slightly sadistic mind was forcing you to feel it more.

Your toes curled inside your pointed heels, your back arching as speckles of black clouded your vision. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your hips jerked when your orgasm compounded into you, making you drop down to your forearms as you were unable to counter your explosive release.

Gojo was covered in your juices and with a few sloppy thrusts he finally pulled himself out before finishing himself off by pumping spurts of cum all over your back, decorating your outfit with his release.

The man didn’t stop there. Instead, he flipped you onto your back bringing his hands to the buttons of the top half of your dress and ripping it apart.

Your chest was bare, covered in a bra that he tugged down until it was resting underneath your breasts. He brought his insatiable lips to your mound, rolling your pointed nipple between his thumb and index finger before closing his mouth over the other nub.

You were shaking underneath him, unable to handle any more stimulation as he pinched one nipple and peppered the other with kitten licks.

Gojo did it until he was hard again, leaving marks all over your breasts as he pushed himself inside you. He held your legs apart but you barely had anymore energy to keep up with him. Instead you kept him motivated with your pleasured mewls, praising him for all his glory.

“ Harder, please…harder….”

Gojo stopped, holding himself inside you and feeling you pulsate against him. He ensured to drag the seconds out making you whimper with impatience as you were desperate to have him continue.

“ Gojo-saaan…” you pleaded, tears pricking  your eyes as you wailed for mercy. “Don’t stop fucking-ahhhhhhh …”

You couldn’t even finish until he was thrusting inside you again. Fucking you to the heavens and back with the same intensity he did earlier. When he pulled out of you as he climaxed, he finished himself off all over your cunt, marking you with his essence.

***

Steam covered the glass door surrounding you, the warmth engulfing your body as you and Gojo stood in the hot shower together. Your body was sore but in the most pleasant way possible and you allowed the water droplets to massage your skin, closing your eyes as you exhaled and enjoying the amazing pressure from Gojo’s  shower.

You only opened your eyes when you felt Gojo’s large palm on your stomach, bringing you into his torso as he leaned down and kissed your ear.

“Did you have fun?”

The knot in the pit of your stomach twisted, sending shivers down your back from his question. He treated you with so much kindness after you both slept together. He sang you praises, telling you over and over how good you were to him as he took his time to clean you up, not allowing you to even lift a single finger while he used the time to focus on taking care of you instead.

You turned around to face him, your eyes gazing up at that unjustifiably handsome face that was uncovered because he had his hair slicked back.

“Surprisingly, I did…” you teased with a smile, placing your hands on him, as you delicately traced your fingers up and down his forearms.

His height was overbearing now that you didn’t have your heels on, and the sorcerer found himself tilting down just to look at you. His fingers pressed into your lower back as the silence filled the space between you both. Gojo used it as an opportunity to bring his lips down to meet yours, indulging himself with a kiss. He picked you up in his strong arms, before holding you against the grey tile of his bathroom wall. You moaned into his mouth, playing with his tongue as your hands reached for his neck.

“So, tell me, angel… ” he whispered into your mouth in between a kiss. “What kind of fantasies do you have?”

“Uhm, I don’t really have any fantasies…”

You felt his fingers underneath your chin, tilting your head back so you were looking him in the eye.

“You know, if you tell me , I can return the favor…” he stated, flashing his pearly whites as he gave you an easy grin.

“You’ll think it’s stupid…”

“Try me.”

You rested your head against the tile, playing with the back of Gojo’s hair as you cleared your throat.

“Uhm, so , back in college there was this professor that I had. He was extremely good looking, I think everybody in our class had a crush on him. I realised I did too because everytime I would try speaking with him, I always jumbled up my words or said the wrong thing. It was super awkward…I mean, he wasn’t awkward but I definitely was…”  

A small laugh escaped you but Gojo was still listening attentively.

“Anyway, I never told anyone. I was with Haru and always felt like I was being a terrible girlfriend because I was just so attracted to my professor. He was also the sweetest guy, was married and had three kids…” you sighed as Gojo grazed his hand across your thigh, blushing before admitting, “…but I used to think about him taking me on his desk all the time. Like, it got to the point where I had to drop his class because he was too much of a distraction…”

Gojo chuckled, “oh, you dirty slu-OW!”

You tugged at his earlobe, pouting to stop yourself from laughing at his snide comment.

“That’s what you get,” you replied, before loosening your grip and dropping your hand to his pecs.

“Relax, it takes a slut to know one. There is no need to get offended!” he teased, shifting the joke onto himself and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, so you’ve got a little thing for a teacher/student scenario?”

“Just a little…”

Gojo brought his lips to your neck, planting small kisses upwards until he murmured against your ear.

“As a teacher myself, it will be my utmost pleasure to be your sensei for an evening,”

“You don’t have to…”

“You're not forcing me, angel. I want to,” Gojo insisted, his lips now hovering above yours. “Besides, I’m your friend, right ? We take care of each other, that’s what friends do.”

You nodded in agreement, your eyes dropping down to his lips as you patiently waited to taste him on your tongue.

“Since you did a stellar job with me tonight, let me do the same for you… ” he whispered, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and nipping at it gently.

You squeezed your legs tighter around his torso as you held him close, feeling faint when Gojo kissed you again like he was pulling the oxygen straight out of your lungs.

And yet, you had no desire to let him go.

***

CHAPTER 13: SPINNING

[mega-bastard]

Bitch in Heat Stuck Under Debris Gets WRECKED

a miki mouse whorehouse collab, the m.list you can find here 

cw: sexual harrassment, abo themes, dubcon kinda

as the poor quality picture can’t really show you, I got stuckage and I chose Bakugo with the finishing touch of making it ABO <3 It’s also two days late but shhhhh we don’t talk about it uwu also 2.7 words of pain enjoy 

katsuki bakugou is becoming a thorn in your side.

you’ve both been metaphorically and somewhat literally glued to each others sides since highschool. it’s not necessarily a bad thing, to be quite frank katsuki is something of a deterrent in a world of second genders and pheromones— something you capitalized on in high school.

being an omega hero isn’t something entirely world shattering, but it’s a position that comes with lots of stereotypes— stereotypes you fought tooth and nail to fight against in your younger years. being one of four omegas in your class was...irritating, to say the least. lots of preconceived notions that you needed to be helped with trivial things, and while your classmates intentions came from a good place it was maddening. save for katsuki, back when he had no restraint with his anger and aggression, he didn’t coddle you like your classmates did. Labeled a brute for his actions towards his omega classmates in trivial interaction or sparring, you thrived on the normality— katsuki was an ass to everyone. Your omega was placated, finally encountering an alpha who wasn’t belittling her with preconceived daintiness.

it was easy to hang near katsuki, ignoring the atrocity that was his vocabulary. eventually like the rest of the peanut gallery that was the bakusquad, you just existed alongside katsuki— which meant that you grew on him. katsuki swears up and down that you’re all a nuisance but you’ve seen him go up to bat for all you at some point, you knew you’d all made some sort of ragtag pack with one another. this was rather amazing to you at the time, not to sell yourself short but you’d never really imagined belonging to a close knit group of friends— especially realizing that they understood when it was appropriate to step in for you. katsuki in particular had a knack for being at the right place at the right time.

During your second year you fumbled.

interning with miruko had its perks, a top 5 hero with raw strength, cunning, and the drive to just keep going— and an omega. landing and internship with her had been a dream, even more-so when you learned she’d been watching you since your first year because of the festival. bright eyed and eager, nothing could have dampened your spirits— neither katsuki and his usual moody behavior or the standoffish alpha from shiketsu. yes, you all had landed an internship with miruko and part of you was...worried? katsuki had never looked down on heroes based on their second genders but you couldn’t speak for the shiketsu alpha, both alphas interning under an established omega hero put your inner omega on edge— you didn’t quite know why though. but you chose to squash the feeling and enjoy your internship with who was essentially your idol and continue on.

then you started getting sexually harassed.

his name was omori kisai and he was the worst. hailing from shiketsu, known for their dignified schooling, he was far from it. salacious comments dropped when no one was listening, less that appropriate touching when passing by and just general ick that had your skin crawling and omega snarling. it was easy to brush it off as banter the first time, section off the awkward contact as an accident. The second time you made it clear the comments were not liked and the touches far from appropriate, after the third time you’d snap an insult or have to hold a trembling fish from making contact. but it was coming to a head and your suppressors could only do so much to hide your souring scent. looking back you should have said something, but your pride had told you that it was a necessary step to overcome and push through— that he wouldn’t be the last. it weighed you down, day by day, a heavy cloud that wouldn’t let up. one particular bad timed comment brought tears to eyes and shame to your entire being.

thankfully, as time would come to show, katsuki tended to nose into your dilemmas.

the day prior to the abrupt end of your harassment  you’d been tripped up by a villian and had fallen a sizeable distance into a pitiful excuse of pond. of course, omori had taken this as an open invitation to mock you and then offer you his shitty hero costume cloak— not without hinting at you returning the favor ‘somehow’. yeah right. you had stomped off, unaware of katsuki’s presence nearby. come next day, omori avoided you like the plague and katsuki not so subtly stuck to your side like an unwilling chowchow— all growly and temperamental. but his constant presence rubbed his scent off on you. despite his less than chummy attitude, you weren’t mad; katsuki smelled like cinnamon spice and whiskey with hints of burnt caramel— absolutely overpowering yet decadent all the same.

you tried not to think about just how much you enjoyed his smell. your omega was purring about it.

the omori incident was the beginning of katsuki’s subtle hovering. though you pried the truth of his involvement in omori leaving you alone after offhandedly bringing it up to mina and jirou one day, katsuki helped you out of situations as invasively as possible time and time again. by the end of third year it was no secret to you of your classmates teasing of your relationship with katsuki; an amiable and prideful omega and the irritable powerhouse of an alpha. you brushed it off because...well you didn’t know why, but katsuki’s seeming indifference to the teasing had you quelling every jittery happiness your inner omega expressed at the thought of katsuki being your alpha.

now, three years out of highschool and beginning to climb the ranks, katsuki was becoming testy— and for the life of you the reason couldn’t be more opaque.  you both work at the same agency, and due to the nature of your quirks you spend all your time together due to their compatibility. compatibility was a bitter word for you, katsuki and yours supposed compatibility had been talked about for some time now but the sobering reality is that perhaps you two were simply good friends— and now sharing your omegas endearment for the explosive alpha had reared its ugly head.

your heat was a week away and already you felt the familiar fatigue begin to lap at you alongside general moodiness. all that coupled with the annoying need to be around katsuki was maddening and sprinkling his own extra grouchy attitude on top and you were ready to snap. in hindsight, that should have been your cue to take an extra week off— instead you chose to once again to champion pride instead of your intellect.

you could have stayed home this morning, you should have.

patrol had been slow, not particularly unusual but favored nonetheless. face raised to the slowly dipping sun you couldn’t help but sigh, the warmth of the late afternoon sun was heaven sent-- you could sleep standing up with much issue. it remided you katsuki, strangely enough though most things did recently.

the sound of screaming and rushing feet shook you from your drowsy stupor. Set on alert, you spied the source of the sudden discordance and found several villains causing a commotion. quickly calling for backup for you before finding yourself facing a hulking mass of green charging you head on. tranquility gone, it was time to fight.

the ache in your body could not be more apparent but your humiliation ran more rampant in your system than any ache or pain could, your fatigue more than present as your body hummed with warmth. leave it to you to get stuck face down and ass up amongst the trashed ruins of what was an office building, weighed down between a broken desk and a collapsed bookshelf. the villain you had engaged with, some self-named idiot calling himself cruel croc, packed a punch and your bruised body and rendered office floor were a testament to that. of course, you’d done quite the bit of damage to him yourself before the entire floor collapsed underneath you both— rendering the meathead unconscious under a rather hefty pile of concrete and debris whereas you were pinned and to utterly weak to do much.

the thrum of your heat was beginning its path of vengeance through your body, feeling too pliant to get yourself out of what was otherwise easy to fix problem. you were feeling it, bad. the heat of your clothed cunt was beginning to become too apparent, unconsciously squeezing your thighs to provide relief to no avail. no, this could not be happening right now of all times. but as much as your inner monologue fought to try and will away your heat, the warmth was becoming too much and sudden breeze of wind had you trembling and whining. the feel of slick beginning to wet your hero costumes spandex set your hazing thoughts into sudden panic, if cruel croc woke up or if another villain came across you would they be above...the thought alone could’ve made you puke. flashbacks to second year had you bucking wildly for freedom, you wouldn’t let anyone have the opportunity for—

“ OI! Shitty ‘mega were are you? Are you—“

you stilled, biting hard to keep your mouth shut. your omega was whimpering, desperate for the alpha, HER alpha to relieve her from her heat. on a normal day she could melt into his scent, but right now? she could drown in it and die happy. with his scent getting stronger the closer katsuki clambered toward you, the more the head haze grew-- the slicker your thighs became. the whimper you let loose was pitiful, the need for some sort of stimulation to your cunt becoming near painful the longer you remained so close yet so far from katsuki. the pathetic little “alpha” you whined as you heard him quickly approach from behind would’ve been utterly embarrassing to you in any other situation.

but if you could have turned to see katsuki, you would’ve been met with the look of an unmistakably feral alpha-- pupils dilated to hell, fingernails blackened, and canines elongated and sharpened. but what you lacked in sight, you could hear and smell.

katsuki was the definition of an alpha as is, but the way he was pushing his scent out was like a big red sign that screamed ‘DANGER’. To you, it had you feeling utterly submissive-- if you weren’t already face down and ass up you certainly would’ve moved into position.  practically salivating at the thought of what katsuki could do--

the heated palm on the globe of your ass is thought pausing, the sudden heated touch coaxing a sugary sweet moan from deep in your throat-- the small touch quickly turning to rough palming at your moaning. tt feels so good, but you want more. need more. 

“Please, need more Alpha” it's breathy and whiny, something you're far from day to day but it feels too natural escaping you. mewling at the ghost of a touch over your clothed cunt, your blubbering when it presses harder-- escalating you to tears of frustration when it ceases. practically feeling katsuki’s harsh breathing near your cunt you begin to wiggle and wail with all manner of unrestrained vigor; chanting alpha and katsuki like a prayer and begging for relief like a sinner for forgiveness. it’s working, you know it is, if katsuki’s breathing is anything to go by but he refuses any further touching. you want katsuki everyday, but right now you need him. 

“Only want you Katsuki, please it’s only been you,” you hiccup your words through a shrill plea, but the tearing of your soaked spandex sends an excited chill down your spine. your legs tremble with excitement when katsuki grips the tops of your thighs and spreads them-- revealing your drooling cunt. it’s both too much and not enough all at once and you wiggle once more, yelping from a smack to your left ass cheek. it’s not particularly painful, not even as katsuki rubs over it right after the hit, but it quells your wiggling nonetheless. you open your mouth to urge him on but he beats you to it.

“No one else, you got that ‘mega? No one gets to see you like this, no gets to touch you like this-- your mine,” he punctuates his declaration with two of his deliciously thick fingers in your cunt and you squeal, “ you got that? I’m your alpha, always have been always will be.” nodding despite yourself, you struggle for words with his fingers pumping in and out alongside the ghost of pressure on your clit “Yes! Yes, I’m yours Katsuki!” you babble your words already teetering on the precipice of your first orgasm. it takes a pickup in pace and a rough rub along your clit and your wailing, slick streaming down your thighs as your first orgasm crashes into you.

despite the pleasant haze in your head, you faintly hear zippers being undone and the shuffling of clothes. licking your lips, you perk your ass up as much as the heavy bookcase allows, purring in excitement like a spoiled cat. The rough grab of your hips leaves you gasping, feeling the length of katsukis dick along your thigh-- long and heavy. you're salivating as he lines himself up with your weeping cunt, ramming his entire length in you with little regard. stars shoot across your vision and your ears deafen, crying out at being so full. it feels wonderful being stuffed this full and you babble it to katsuki. if you could see him, you would see just how prideful and smug he looked-- only he can take care of you like this, none of the other shitty alphas can take care of you this well.

katsuki sets a rough pace, drawing himself out slowly like he’s aiming for you to feel every vein of his dick before slamming back into you. your poor cunt clenches sporadically, drawing groans and growls from your alpha and all you can do is choke on broken moans because the way he feels churning your insides is downright sinful. you felt a band begin to tighten in your belly, your broken moans evolving into babbling-- how good katsuki was making you feel and how he was the only one who made you feel this good. it spurred him onward, fucking into you with more vigor alongside groans of your names and his own praise for you. “Good fuckin ‘mega”, “Takin’ me so well”, and “My perfect little mate” were some of the praise you could catch and had you preening. All of it combined you felt the band tighten and you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing out. feeling the base of Katsuki’s length begin to swell, you could only salivate at the thought of being knotted.

“Want your knot Katsuki! Alpha I need it”

 at your blubbering demand, katsuki faltered in pace for only a moment before a deep mix of a groan and growl ripped from his throat. grabbing and bending your leg upwards he fucked deeper and faster into your battered cunt, the new angle sending you hurtling into your orgasm. eyes rolled back and tongue, you felt utterly boneless-- momentarily brain dead before screaming out at Katsuki knotting you, his own groan of pleasure mixing with yours as he filled you impossibly full with his seed. 

 trembling underneath him, you were only a fraction aware of movement above you before the weight of the bookcase vanished from you. weakly you glance back up at your alpha. your surprised to see just how feral he looks, no doubt you’ve pushed him into his rut. whimpering as he moves down upon you, he nibbles and kisses along your jaw and neck before biting down on you scent gland. a flash a white hot pain curtailed by just as intense pleasure wracks your wrecked body but the dopy look of happiness pulls a low purr from katsuki.

you wanna say something, anything, but your too exhausted and as katsuki knot subsides you let another weak whimper as he removes himself-- feeling his seed spill from your battered cunt. he pulls a quiet moan from you as he gathers some of it a pushes back in-- and a glance at his smug face lets you know that he’s decidedly not done with you yet.

[a-simple-imagine]

Run Away With Me

Synopsis: Every moment shared with Charlie Weasley is an adventure all it’s own. How you wish to spend every moment together and all it takes is to run away. 

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 6.3k+

A/N - Every year I post a story on my birthday and today’s the day I turn a year older. Usually these stories are pretty sad but this year I wrote something a little softer so here is my birthday present for you guys, I hope you enjoy it. 

1. A Stolen Kiss

A bright-eyed and clueless young student, excited to be attending a school of magic. Nobody else in your family had magic so it was a big surprise when you received a letter alongside a weird lady who looked like she just stepped out of the early 1920s. Sat between your parents, the older woman explained the entire situation much to your excitement and your parents' confusion.

 Diagon alley had been your first experience of all things magical; it had been like stepping into another world instead of just any old street in London. There were book shops lined with all kinds of books, some were bigger than your head while others were tiny. A shop that sold weird and kinda gross jars full of who knows what. There was a place that only sold brooms but according to the list you had read like a hundred times, first years weren't allowed their own brooms. You spent what felt like a lifetime at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions getting fitted for robes. Your parents were utterly fascinated by all the different styles and kept asking questions that made the experience so much longer than it really needed to be. You'd never had a pet before, but after a lot of begging they let you pick out a cat; he was a small Persian cat. Not quite a kitten but not quite fully grown. Checking off each item as you went along, you were exhausted by the end of it. There was even enough time for a trip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where you had enjoyed a cone of strawberries and cream with sprinkles on top. All that was left on your list was a wand. Peeling gold letters rested over the door of a shop that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Stepping inside it was a tiny little store with no costumers. Thousands of narrow boxes lined the walls all the way up to the ceiling. It didn't take long for the weird old man to give you a wand that felt warm in your hand. Unlike the other disasters that came at the result of you waving various wands, a stream of red and gold sparks shoot out the end of this one like a mini firework. The wand chooses the wizard whatever the hell that meant. All ready and packed for Hogwarts, you were really giddy to go. Your mother cried as she waved you off to boarding school but you couldn't sit still. The train ride took hours and it was a little lonely considering you didn't know anyone but as soon as you entered the castle you knew it was exactly where you were meant to be. The building was massive and practically oozed magic and mystery through each brick. The pictures, much to your surprise, were moving on their own. Hogwarts had four houses and each student had to sit on a tall stool, put on a funny talking hat which would decide ultimately where they belong.

The very first friend you made was Nymphadora Tonks but only because she was in all of your classes and by some twist of fate you always ended up seated together. She was a sweet girl with pink hair and a talent for mischief. There was never a dull moment with you two. Then there was Charlie Weasley. Ever since that brisk day in October when he had ridden in clumsily on his white horse to save the day, the two of you had been the best of friends. You were still getting used to all your different classes. Potions class, however, was proving the most difficult. Too many ingredients and types to get used to. Not to mention Snape was just... mean. The task had been to prepare a simple Wiggenweld Potion; a powerful healing potion that can be used to heal injuries, or reverse the effects of a Sleeping Draught. The book was open on the desk as you carefully followed the instructions until.... poof. All the confidence you'd gained since arriving disappeared as Snape scolded you in front of everyone for messing up. Charlie had swooped in to take the blame landing himself in late-night detention. On the other hand, you got to leave with your tail between your legs and a few house points shaved off the total. And yet even his small act of kindness wasn't enough to capture your affection at least not at first. For the little version of yourself was infatuated with another Weasley. An older Weasley.

The nerves of a handful of students could be felt by anyone sat in the great hall for breakfast. Tonks is sat beside you running butter over a piece of toast. Stifling a yawn, Charlie takes a seat across from the two of you sporting a jumper of Gryffindor red and gold.

"Good morning," You flash your cheeriest, half-asleep smile bringing your spoon of Cheeri Owls to your lips. "Nervous?"

"A little," He was looking especially pale today suggesting he was more than just a little.

"You should be," Tonks perks up. "It's only the last game of the season and all hope rides on the seeker,"

"No pressure then," Charlie huffs out a dull laugh. The boy excelled in his position as the Gryffindor seeker but there was no way to determine how he'd play today when he was carrying the hopes and dreams of his teammates and entire house.

"You should eat something," You suggest, pushing a bowl of assorted fruit forward. There was little you could to make him feel better except take his spot but that wasn't allowed. You also probably wouldn't be that good. "Might make you feel better?"

"I'm too nervous to eat," He insisted but he still took an apple; rolling the red fruit between his palms.

"Win or lose you're still number one in our heart, right Tonks?" Elbowing her gently, you shovel another spoonful of 'O' shapes into your mouth.

"Sure," she shrugs. "If you want we can jinx the other team's seeker? I've been practising."

"Or... how much time do we have? I can get one of the older students to brew some Felix Felicis." You play along. "Nothing like a little liquid luck to win a game."

"You both know that's not allowed," Charlie took a large bite of his apple.

"When has Tonks ever cared about rules," Sometimes you wish she did care, you probably wouldn't have ended up in detention so many times alongside her.

"Thanks but no," he took another bite. "We have to win fair and square."

The conversation drifted from nerves to lost spells and planned practical jokes. Charlie seemed to relax a little the more he spoke. Maybe all he needed was a distraction to cheer him up.

"We need to take a trip to Hogsmeade" Tonk announces. "I'm out of dungbombs."

"Urgh- you and that silly joke shop." You can't help but roll your eyes but it was all good-natured. Despite hardly ever buying anything yourself, you spent an awful lot of time at Zonko's infamous little joke shop. "I could do with a trip outside the castle though. You should come too Charlie and maybe... you could ask Bill if he wants to come?"

"You're still gushing over Bill," Now it was Tonks turn to elbow you playfully, her lips curling up into a tantalising smirk.

"I do not gush over him," you state firmly, brows knitting together in a frown. You didn't appreciate being made fun. Bill was older, wiser and always made time to show you kindness. He made your little heart flutter whenever you saw him and Tonks took every opportunity to tease you about it. "I just thought It'd be nice is all. Wouldn't you agree, Charlie?"

"If you want him to come, ask him yourself." He responds, taking a large gulp of his juice.

"She won't because she has a crush."

"I don't have a crush Nymphadora- stop it," It was infinitely more embarrassing talking about this with Charlie sat at the table. "Don't ask him then, I don't care."

"Yes you do," Placing her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you into her side. "Because you're in love-"

"I am not!" You snap, pushing out of her grip.

"I'll see you guys later." The two of you share a look as Charlie disappears without another word. It was probably just pregame nerves.

"You know what? I think I'll get some frogspawn soap too and put it in the prefects' bathroom." Typical Tonks.

You'd come to learn through your time at Hogwarts that Quidditch was the most popular sport among wizards. And each house had their own team who compete for a trophy and bragging rights. Today was the final game thankfully. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Apparently, it came down to these two a lot. As the Gryffindor team filter out of the changing rooms, you slip inside to find Charlie sitting on a little bench.

"Guess who?" You sing-song, slapping your hands over his eyes but only briefly. He turns to look at you with an almost sour expression.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to support you," you reply soft, offering a smile he couldn't even see as he turned away.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Had you done something to upset him? Surely not. This was the first time you were seeing him since breakfast so there hadn't been a moment for you to mess things up and yet, his voice held an icy chill.

"Guess Tonks is rubbing off on me?" You jest, looking around the room. It was empty apart from you two. Bags and clothes scattered across benches or half shoved into lockers. A chalkboard stood in the corner with drawings you couldn't understand. "I just wanted to see how you were doing before the big game, is all. We were worried about you."

"You were worried about me," He repeats slowly, looking up at you. "I thought you hated quidditch."

"I still do," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "It's silly. Doesn't matter how hard the team works or how many goals it's pretty much all decided by how good the seeker is so why even have goals?"

"Score enough goals before the snitch is caught and anyone could win," He perks up. "You just don't understand how good and exciting it is."

Your lips curl up in appreciation for Charlie Weasley and his love for quidditch. It didn't possess the sparkle that came along when he talks about dragons but it was still nice to see him liven up. "Then go out there and show me how exciting it is,"

You stand under the spotlight of his gaze as he seemingly takes in your choice of attire; wearing the Gryffindor colours with pride to show your support. You even let Tonks paint your face after she promised not to draw genitalia. "Do you really think we're gonna win? What if I mess up and everyone hates me?"

"Then you mess up and everyone hates you," You shrug a little. "But that's not gonna happen and you know why?" His head shakes slowly. "It's because you're the best seeker at this school Charles Weasley." You place your hands on either side of his shoulders. "And I believe in you."

"How does that help me?" With your index finger under his chin, you force him to meet your eyes.

"Because I'm never wrong."

"That doesn't sound right." He tries to look away but you stop him.

"But it is," You offer a reassuring smile; one full of determination. "You've got this Charlie. So come on before you miss the game entirely."

The cheers outside were seemingly growing louder by the second. With a deep breath, Charlie stands up, grabbing his broom. "You're staying to watch, right?"

"Of course. Tonks is up in the stands too." Taking his hand, you lead the way out of the tent. "Consider us your good luck charms." Charlie brings the both of you to an abrupt stop before you even reach the opening of the tent, pulling you back to him. "What's up?"

The peppering of freckles that covered Charlie's face was even more vibrant against the rose pink blush. You squeeze his hand a little hoping it makes him feel better. And then it happens. The crowd grows silent in your ear but only for a moment as Charlie's surprisingly soft lips crash clumsily against yours. "For good luck," his whispers; his hand slipping from yours as he leaves you dumbfounded.

"He okay?" Tonks asks as you return from your trip.

"Yeah... still nervous," You reply, sitting down beside her. "It's his first big game after all."

"Are you okay?" The crowd erupts into cheers as the Gryffindor team flys in first. You're almost too embarrassed to look for Charlie; worried about what you might find so you keep your head down. "You look like you've just seen a troll or something?"

"Mhmm," you hum, forcing yourself to watch the Slytherin team as they enter. Why had Charlie kissed you? Did it mean he liked you or was he just messing around? Your head swirled with possibilities.

"You want a sweet?" Your friend offers as the game finally starts. It takes you a second to register but you smile, reaching into the little bag she was holding only to come to a stop.

"They're not gonna burn my tongue off or something are they?"

"No," Her chuckle sounded a little too innocent but you trust her for some reason. Taking a piece of confectionery out of the paper bag.

"Charlie... kissed me." You announce, throwing the sweet into you mouth; face scrunching up when they turn out to be sour. Ten points to Slytherin as they take the lead.

"He what?"

"He... kissed me."

2. Together

Who was Bill Weasley but a distant playground crush after that day. And your time of classrooms and magic lessons came swiftly to an end; how bittersweet it felt to leave a place you loved dearly. A once naive little girl stepping into the unknown now called the Wizarding World Home. Now you would go on to be a healer which was simply a magical doctor although your parents strongly disagreed with the comparison. However proud they were of you there would always be some part of them that wished you had chosen to become a lawyer or 'real' doctor.

Bathed in the warm embrace of the setting sun, you ponder the tranquility in a bed of green grass. The youngest Weasley lay beside you, struggling to keep still as often children do. She was similar to her brother in that way who now paced back and forth a mere few steps away. The invitation had been for dinner but you arrived a little early. The burrow was always such a welcoming place like stepping into a home you used to live in many moons ago; it was cosy and warm and there was no doubt that many lived there. You found your house to be almost the opposite, it always looked like nobody lived there. Immaculate. Polished. Cold.

"Will you stop pacing, you're making me nervous." You call out to your boyfriend, opening your eyes only to squint at the bright light. "What's wrong with you?"

Charlie comes to a stop as you sit up; Ginny mimics you in sitting up but the boy's eyes stay on you. The longer he stared, the more the pit in your stomach grew; what exactly hid behind his blank expression. He normally possessed such a playful warmth but it seemed to have vanished as of late. Plucking a stray purple flower, you enclose it in the palm of your hands. "You know I love dragons right?"

"Of course," Since meeting him, he had probably managed to slip dragons into every conversation you had ever had. It was at a point where you knew far more about dragons than you ever really cared to know. Many found his obsession annoying because that's what he so obviously was, obsessed but you found it enticing. Charming, even. Opening up your hand, a small butterfly with deep plum-purple wings flutters into the air and onto a giggly Ginny's nose. The innocent glee of a child; how those days were gone for you. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Promise you won't be mad?" It would be foolish to make such a promise when there was no way to guarantee your reaction. Whatever it was must be bad, if he was this worried. Your shoulders rise a little then fall.

"I make no such promises- just tell me."

Charlie took a breath that travelled on the wind to your ears before he blurted out.  "I'm moving to Romania."

"Okay," Is your first reaction while your brain tries to make sense of something it didn't want to hear. "Wait- what?"

"Charlie is moving away to work with big scary dragons," Ginny announces playfully, baring her little hands like claws.

The once small pit grew into a mighty black hole of uncertainty and sadness that threatened to swallow you whole. There had been conversations shared between friends of Charlie wanting to move away to a foreign land, just to finally see a dragon but you had never taken it at face value. Always so convinced it was but a dream rather like those of when you were little and you wished to be a vampire. Technically back then you didn't know they actually existed but still, even now it was never going to come true. Eyes cast upon the second eldest Weasley, he kicks up the grass with his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "It's the nearest Dragon reserve."

That was something you already knew but it didn't make the decision, at least in your eyes, any less confusing. Instead, it prompted water to well up in your eyes for this was something that affected not only him and his family but your life too. "I... I don't know what to say,"

"Hey Ginny, can you go check if dinner's ready yet?"

"No- why can't you do it?" The bark behind her words was very in character for the fiesty young Weasley. Blinking away the tears, you plaster on the best smile you can muster.

"If you go check on dinner I promise we can play a game later, okay? Exploding snap maybe?"

"Really?" She eyes you suspicious probably because it was a promise you had broken before. Not always for the right reasons but this time it was genuine. Charlie clearly wanted this to be a private conversation or perhaps he was just saving you for the inevitable moment where she asks why you're crying. Ginny scrambles to feet when you nod and skips off towards the gravity-defying house. It still amazed you that the building hadn't fallen yet. Rising to your feet you brush yourself off.

"You know I want nothing more than to work with Dragons and this is the only way I can do that," There was no mistaking the serious tone that came along with his words. It didn't matter what you said there was no changing his mind but you wouldn't do that anyway. It seemed cruel to even try to get him to give up on something so precious and you would never want to do that to him. "I have an opportunity to do something I love and I won't waste it to get some boring job at the ministry."

"I don't expect you too..." You wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay; beg him even. You were fighting against the selfish little devil that was stabbing you in the heart. It was a dull, deep pain in your chest. You wanted Charlie to follow his dreams, you just never expected them to not include you. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I know," The red-headed boy walks ever so slowly over to you, taking both hands in his. His hands had always felt a little rough ever since Hogwarts. You used to complain back then and insist he needed to moisturise but over time you had grown fond of the familiarity. How you wished this tender moment could last forever because it very well might be your last. You're caught off guard when he yanks you forward. You stumble into his chest where he wraps his arms around you like the big teddy bear he was. You breathe in every inch of him like it was the last time. The intoxicating aroma of an early walk in the woods; that fresh earthy smell that really makes you appreciate where you are. You could almost picture the pine trees.

"I feel like I'm losing you," Your words but a whisper, lost on the breeze.

"You're not," His grip around you tightens and suddenly your in the air, spinning around. "You could never get rid of me that easily.

"Charlie," You fight back a smile as you return to the ground; burying your face in the nook of his neck. "What's gonna happen to us?"

"About that-"

"Because I don't know if I can do the whole long-distance thing? So do we break up?" The tears threaten to fall once again as you pull back to get a good look at him. You never wanted to forget the emerald of his eyes or each and every freckle that called his body home. The unusual scare that adorned his eyebrow that was always amusing to look at. If that was his true purpose to break up with you then there would be no stopping the tears when they finally burst through the damn.

"No, I-"

"Because that's a little mean Charlie, you could have at least waited until after dinner. Should have done it first actua-"

You words become mumbled by the palm of his hand which he's placed over your mouth like a seal of protection. "Shush for a minute."

It's hard to resist so you simply don't; sticking your tongue you deliberately lick the palm of his hand but it seems to not phase him whatsoever.

"I'm not breaking up with you, silly," You meet his gaze. "I was kind of thinking you could come with me?"

Reaching up, you yank his hand away. "To Romania?  You've got to be joking."

"Why not?"

Did you even know how to answer that? There were so many reasons why one should not just up and leave to go live in a completely different country with the boy they dated through high school. "I can't just up and leave my family- my mum will be devastated."

"I'll talk to her about it," Charlie hums softly, placing a delicate kiss upon your forehead. "Your mum loves me and she wants you to be happy."

"Dinner's Ready," For such a small girl, Ginny had one big mouth. There was no mistaking her call. However, this whole situation now felt a little... off. Could you even sit through dinner without it all becoming weird?

"We're coming," Charlie yells back; offering up his hand which you reluctantly take and he leads the way back to the house. "You want to be a healer right? You could do that in Romania."

"I guess," You weren't exactly worried about not finding a job.

"You don't have to decide right now," He tells you before you have a chance to speak up again. "Just think about it. I mean the invitation is there and for what it's worth, I'd really like you to come."  

3. Creeping doubts

It took a lot of convincing but despite everything you decided to follow Charlie into the Unknown. Your parents weren't thrilled with the decision but they respected it; they were just worried about what would happen if something went wrong. And as their only child, they would obviously miss you. A lot of time was spent at the burrow that summer before moving to Romania; you were beginning to feel like an honorary Weasley only with the experience of having been a muggle for the first eleven years of your life. It was but a three-hour flight to Romania and your mother had sobbed at the airport. It made you think back to your first time stepping onto the Hogwarts express, leaving your parents behind to go to a magical boarding school in Scotland. It was a peculiar thought but a nice one. One you wished to cherish. Now in a foreign land with no support system behind you other than a boy you had been dating for years, you were ready for a new adventure. And there was officially no doubt in your mind that you would do just about anything for Charlie Weasley.

"It's not much," Charlie sets his suitcase down on the table. "Best I could do, for now, I'm afraid."

"It's fine," It was an old apartment in a building full of what you assumed were muggles. There was a small living room area with an ugly pea-coloured couch nestled against one wall. Beside it was a small coffee table and on the other side of the room was a TV, you weren't convinced actually worked. Then there was the kitchen which was attached to the living room. It had a fridge, a cooker and some cupboards. The only other room was a bedroom that literally only housed a bed in at the moment, then there was a door that leads on to the bathroom. It definitely wasn't much but a crappy apartment was just part of the experience, right? At least that's what you were telling yourself. "it'll feel like home soon enough," You had everything you needed to make this place feel like home right in your suitcase; oh the joys of magic. Patting yourself down, you search for the key to easy unpacking. "Uh... have you seen my wand?"

His head shakes and wears an amused grin. "You remembered to bring it right?"

"Yes," you huff. "I was gonna unpack," Falling back against the wall, you slide down onto the floor which you imagine hasn't been cleaned in a while considering the dust. "It's gonna take so long without my wand- which may actually be in the suitcase now that I think about it."

"Did you forget I'm a wizard too?"

"You do it then," You drop your head back against the wall. "I'm starving."

"actually have you seen my wand?"

You giggle to yourself "You're an idiot,"

"Hey- you lost your wand too." His shadow lingers over you as he comes to join you against the wall. Taking up a seat beside you, your head falls to rest against his shoulder.  

"Can we get pizza? I saw some of those leaflets when we came in so we could order some?"

"Whatever you want, my love."

As time ticks on the pizza box is left discarded in the kitchen as the two of you retire for the night. Who knew not actually unpacking but simply thinking about it while eating pizza on the dirty ground could be so much work. You struggle to hold back a yawn as you snuggle up to him trying to absorb as much of his body heat as you can. All that lay across the two of you were a blanket and this building was next exactly the warmest. "Do you think we'll be okay? "You ponder aloud; it was a question that had been on your mind since agreeing to follow him to Romania. For not many people stay together with their high school loves. What if things fall apart now that you're in the 'real' world? What if this was all just a huge mistake?

"What do you mean?" Always such a simple boy; you wonder how he deals with his anxieties. Did he actually not know what you meant or was he merely putting on a brave face? A once proud Gryffindor suggested that he always looked to be brave above anything else.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" You repeat as if that somehow answers his question but it must have done something because even in the darkness you can just tell he's smiling.

"You worry way too much." Charlie laughs.

"You don't worry enough,"

He lays a kiss upon the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your arm. "It used to be the other way around."

"I was young and reckless back then. "How you missed the days where you ran around the halls of Hogwarts with reckless abandon. Well, not entirely reckless that was more Tonks but things had definitely felt simpler back then.

"You're still young and reckless now, I just have to hear you stress about it afterwards." Charlie taunts, pinching your arm. You recoil at the sharp pain.

"Shush."

"Being in Romania doesn't change anything," He expresses; his voice sounding louder in the quiet darkness. "I loved you back home and I still love you now. I'm really glad you decided to come with me."

Hoping to distract yourself from every worrying thought that clouded your brain you decide it's time to change the subject. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Getting to work with Dragons all day every day? that's like dream come true."

"A dangerous one," Dragons were perhaps the most vicious creatures around other than humans. As captivating as they were and as much as charlie adored them, you couldn't help but worry about his safety. It seemed no matter the topic this evening you'd find a way to stress yourself out.

"I'll be fine, I'll have you there to patch me up," That he will for you had taken on the role as a healer willing to help out with all the injuries that inevitably come from dealing with dragons. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't quite convinced you were up to the task; you had never actually dealt with dragon-related injuries so this was like diving headfirst into the ocean when you only just learned how to swim in a training pool. "and if not- well, we had a good run."

"Don't joke about that," Nuzzling against his chest, you finally let your eyes close. Today was the start of forever with the one and only Charles Weasley and here he was joking about his ultimate demise.

4. The perfect day

It's peculiar how life can just fall into place. Your odd little world of dragons and leaky apartment buildings just became the norm. You had come to love your work at the reserve, Dragons were actually incredibly cool up close. Not to mention getting to see Charlie work with them after years of never shutting up about them was truly a sight to behold. Every day, it was like taking an excited little boy to his first day of school. His eyes simply lit up whenever he was at work although it was hard explaining his injuries to the neighbours when they were being nosey. You also had to be careful when using magic since you were basically living with muggles and it would be a headache if they ever found out.

With your site blocked by a thin piece of fabric, Charlie guides you carefully forward with his hands skillfully placed upon your arms to steer. This was the first day off the two of you have shared in a long time. Little information was given about your destination other than it being a surprise. With Charlie that could mean just about anything which wasn't always a good thing but you trusted him enough to believe he wasn't leading you into a dragon's den or something. A gentle breeze nipped at the skin of your neck and the ground felt soft under your feet. The gentle singing of a symphony of birds filled the air and the sun beamed down with remarkable easy. All this suggested you were somewhere withdrawn in nature. Charlie had always been one for the great outdoors. There were countless times you had found him sneaking in or out of the forbidden forest back at school.

"Am I going to like this surprise?" You inquire; your anxiety building with each step. You would much prefer to simply know what was going on rather than experience some dramatic reveal especially today of all days. Every year the boy seems to forget that he agreed not to make a big deal.

"I sure hope so," You practically slam into him as she comes to an unexpected standstill. "Because I don't think I can return it."

"Return what? Oh god- can I take my blindfold off?"

As the flimsy fabric skims the length of your face to settle loosely around your neck, your eyes take a minute to adapt. You don't know quite what you were expecting but this was not it. Before you stands a small cottage surrounded by nothing but a wide-open field full of a rainbow of wildflowers. It was a beautiful little house with as much charm and beauty you'd expect from a place out in what seems like the middle of nowhere. It could be described as the perfect place to settle down.

"Surprise!" He was redder than a cherry tomato when he stepped into view. Both arms in the air as a sign of celebration but you were just rather... confused? Whose house was this and why had he brought you all the way out here?

"I don't get it?"

"We've been here for a while now so I thought we should get our own place or like, a better place. One where we don't have to worry about anyone else." His confidence appeared to develop with each word but his face was still powdered in a deep shade of pink. S this was your house? He'd decided to up and move without even consulting you? "So I got us a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. It kinda reminds me of the burrow only, y'know, smaller."

"It's ours?" His excitement is clear on his face and he quickly takes your hand. Pulling you along with him. "And that's not all."

"There's more?" Surely a whole house was enough. You were quite proud of Charlie for picking such a beautiful little place. Come summertime, you could already see yourself sitting among the flowers painting little pictures. You also wouldn't have to worry about muggles. Coming up on the front door, your boyfriend delivers you a little golden key. And with just a tiny degree of fear about what could be on the other side you unlock it. Much to your astonishment and disappointment, nothing is behind the door except the hallway leading inside. Charlie enters first and even as you follow, you half expect someone to jump out.

"I know I agreed not to make a big deal but how could I not?" He opens a door at the end of the hallway that leads to the kitchen. It's not a massive space but it's assuredly not small either, the whole place was already furnished but you recognise the surprise was truly what sat on the table. It was a two-tier cake covered in blue frosting including the words Happy Birthday scrawled across the top followed by your name.

"You... baked?"

"Mum sent it actually," Charlie chortled lightly as he wanders up behind you. Tossing a package of red with multicoloured polka-dots onto the table. "Sent this along too. Reckon it's a jumper or something."

"That was nice of her," You weren't sure of how to react to it all. Birthdays had never really been your thing but you appreciated that Mrs. Weasley had gone out of her way to make you something special.

"And from me..." He trails off and the sound of tiny tracks echo off the walls attended by an adorable yelp. Up to your feet slides an ash grey puppy who was more legs than anything else. It had bright blue eyes and floppy ears.

"You got me a dog?"

"I got us a dog- thought we needed a pet around here. I debated getting a crup but that'd be a disaster if your parents ever decide to visit." Crups were notorious for their dislike of muggles. You never understood why but he was right in his decision. The gesture was sweet but rather odd all things considered but still you smile. It was hard to be mad at something so cute and you weren't just talking about the dog. The puppy sits at your feet, wagging its little tail a mile a minute. There was no denying how adorable it was and at least it wasn't a dragon. Or a murtlap for that matter, those things were ugly. "You don't seem happy... do you not like him? I can take him back?" Kneeling, your hand drifts over the soft fur of the puppy's head. In response, the dog jumps up in an attempt to lick at your face. Your smile grows as you try to get away. "I think he likes you."

"What's his name?"

"Whatever you want? He's a Great Dane by the way." The puppy had calmed down a little and you stare as you ponder the perfect name for an ash grey Great Dane. "How about... Arlo?"

"Arlo?"

"Mhmm," You hum standing up straight. "And I'm plenty happy if not a little overwhelmed. You know how I feel when it comes to my birthday."

"I do," He nods casually. His palms snake around your waist drawing you flush against him "But I never want you to forget that someone cares about you- that I care about you so bloody much."

"I know you do," You give him a quick peck on the lips. "And I'm thankful for that and for all of this."

"Arlo is the perfect name, Happy Birthday" Your lips connect in a beautifully slow embrace that fills your body with warmth and as he pulls away, his forehead comes to rest against yours.  The dog barking as it explores the kitchen. "I'm just so grateful that you decided to run away with me."

[asian-hero]

[Im]perfectly You

A/N: Got an idea while watching something completely unrelated to bnha, so that was fun (I’m also sorry if this turns out to be absolute garbage)

I also like to imagine that this is the same Shouto and (Y/N) from “The Words I Desperately Want To Say,” so do with that what you will

Summary: While to the general public, Pro Hero Shouto was a symbol of otherworldly beauty and perfection, the man himself found it hard to understand how anyone could think he was attractive, let alone perfect. So, when doubts start to form in his head, it’s a good thing his partner is there to remind him of all the wonderful things about him

Words: 3,580

Todoroki Shouto, while a fairly smart man, could admit that he had his moments where he was rather dense. If you were to ask him what’s the best plan of action when working a rescue mission, he’d be the absolute best man to ask, as he’d have a level head, and would know every single point of entry where a Pro could go in and rescue the civilians in danger. If you asked him to help you out with some financing issues, while at first he may be a bit confused, he’ll eventually get it and help you plan for ten years into the future.

However, if you asked him why the reporter was asking him about his skin care routine, or how he looks so “effortlessly handsome” while working, he would simply shrug his shoulders and state that they do that for every other person they interview.

Perhaps one of the most shocking traits of Shouto’s is the fact that he doesn’t see himself the way the general public sees him. While most people view him as one of the most attractive heroes, he can’t even stand to look at his reflection for more than a minute, otherwise he’ll find things to criticize, things that make him feel ugly. He’s come to the conclusion, after years of testing, that it’s best for him to simply turn around and face something else if there’s a mirror or any reflective surface around, just so that he doesn’t have to see himself.

Of course, he doesn’t tell anyone about these issues. He hasn’t told his family, his friends, and he certainly won’t tell you. Not because he doesn’t trust any of them, but because he doesn’t want to be a burden to those around him, he doesn’t want his issues to be a source of sorrow, and he certainly doesn’t want pity. So, he simply keeps these bitter, harmful thoughts to himself, not letting anyone in on what’s going on in the back of his mind.

Somehow, though, you manage to break through his facade, the one that he carefully constructed to keep everyone else out, and he’s not sure of how to feel about that.

The first time that Shouto feels a pang in his chest is when the two of you are relaxing on the couch, on a rare day off from your hectic lives. His whole body covers yours, his arms wrapped around your torso while his face is buried in your chest, a small sigh of content escaping his lips. You’re watching some random food documentary the two of you decided to put on, completely entranced by the sights and sounds you’re seeing come to life on the screen. For a while, the two of you sit in complete silence, neither of you wanting to break the peaceful air around you. 

With your eyes still glued to the screen, one of your hands seems to move on its own, tangling itself in Shouto’s red and white locks. As your hand begins to brush back the strands away from his face, your fingers soothingly scratching at his scalp, Shouto tenses under your touch. He feels his breath start to catch as he feels your fingers move through his hair, almost as if you were inspecting it. Due to just how much he uses his quirk, his hair ends up feeling coarse and dry, with a few singed parts in the front. Though he tries to remedy that with the many types of shampoos and conditioners the world has to offer, he just can’t prevent the damage his quirk has done. 

After the feeling of your hand becomes too much for him, he lifts his head up from your chest, almost too quickly to not be suspicious. When his eyes meet your own confused ones, he doesn’t answer you with words, instead opting to wrap his arm around your waist, lifting you up a bit while he shifted his body to be behind yours, effectively keeping your hands off of his hair.

For a second, you’re oddly still, and it makes Shouto anxious. However, after a few seconds had passed, you let out a small giggle, relaxing your body into his, patting his thigh lightly. “If you wanted to be the big spoon all you had to do was ask,”

Luckily for him, you didn’t question his behavior. Though, for the rest of the night, Shouto couldn’t stop the feeling of anxiety from coursing through his veins. While he eventually found his breath, and he was no longer shaking, he still couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread for the rest of the night. 

He hated that he felt this way, for something seemingly so stupid.

The next time that he finds himself moving away from your touch is when the two of you are out shopping for groceries. Since it was after your patrol, you didn’t bother to change out of your hero costume, choosing to throw over your white button up shirt and blue jeans over your suit, figuring that it was good enough. You didn’t even bother buttoning up the shirt, and it took all of Shouto’s self control to not make fun of your outfit, though, he supposed that he couldn’t judge you, as he only threw over his overcoat on top of his own suit. 

As the two of you perused through the aisles, buying way too much food for the two of you, you found yourselves in a comfortable conversation. You talked about how patrolling with Yaoyorozu  went, and he told you about how Bakugou invited himself to his and Midoriya’s patrol. As the two of you continued to walk, with him holding the basket and you walking beside him, he felt your hand slowly snake its way to his, intertwining your fingers together. 

For a while, Shouto didn’t mind the way that your hand fit in his. In fact, he quite enjoyed the way his hand seemed to fold over yours, how small yours felt in his own. However, as soon as you started brushing your thumb over the back of his hand, he could feel just how different your hands were from his. While yours were soft and smooth, his were rough and dry, as if they hadn’t been taken care of. Where as yours didn’t have any bumps or bruises, his had callouses and tiny cuts from the extreme temperatures he held. The way that you stroke his hand soon turned from a soothing action to something that filled Shouto with vile thoughts. In all of his negative thoughts about himself, he never thought that his hands would be the issue. 

It finally became too much when you squeezed his hand and he could feel his callouses digging into the palm of your skin. Detangling his hand away from yours, he pointed towards the produce section, doing his best to keep a straight face.

“Look, they have a sale,”

At first, he was sure that you were going to call him out for his actions, as you wore your confusion and slight hurt on your face. However, that was quickly replaced with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes and an excited “let’s go!”

For the rest of the day, you didn’t try to hold his hand again, and Shouto wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

As the months went on, Shouto had wrongly assumed that his self-esteem issues would sort themselves out, that he’d be back to some semblance of normality. However, they only seemed to get worse, to the point where he couldn’t deal with your eyes being on him for more than a few minutes, otherwise he’d get anxious of what you were thinking. Of course, he still hadn’t told you what was bothering him, not because he was afraid of what you’d think, but for the fact that he knew you’d be upset for him, and he didn’t want to put that on your shoulders. 

Sometimes, he wasn’t as bothered by the voices of self-doubt in his head. On those days he’d gladly let you hold his hand, let you shower him in love. Other times, the voices would be too loud, so much so that he would revert back to how he acted before he met everyone from U.A., cold and standoffish, not that he meant to. Whenever those voices got to him, he wouldn’t even let you look at him for too long, instead politely telling you to stop staring. Whether it be that you were close enough to see the dry skin patches on his face, or the fact that you could see just how badly he was scarred, he didn’t want you to look. 

Eventually, all of the doubts in his mind started to make cracks in his facade, and soon enough he felt himself breaking down.

Right in front of you.

It was a rare chance that Shouto would get home before you did. Unfortunately for you, you were saddled with a mountain of paperwork that needed to be done quickly, so you told him that you’d be late, and that he shouldn’t wait up for you. So, as Shouto stepped into your shared home, he did what he normally did once he got home: make dinner, eat, take a shower, change into more comfortable clothes, and then head to bed.

Everything was going well at first. He cooked dinner by himself, making sure to make enough for you to eat when you got home. Once he’d finished eating and putting your plate in the fridge, he moved to the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the closet and switching on the fan as he started the shower. Usually, he wouldn’t look in the mirror once he’d undressed, instead opting to  look at the wall as he moved to the shower. However, for some reason, on this day, Shouto decided to take a quick glance at the mirror before he headed into the shower.

Truly a big mistake on his part.

As his eyes landed on his reflection, the first thing he noticed were the scars on his skin. Running his hand over the ones on his arms, he cringed at the feeling of the slightly raised skin. As he continued to observe his body, he only felt his mood grow sour, picking on every single flaw that he could see. Running his hands through his coarse hair, he continued to stare at the large scar covering most of the left side of his face. He took in the deep reddish tone that it had, how the skin had puckered and left him with a rough, unpleasant texture. Looking straight into his own eyes, he looked at the two different colors with discontent, wishing that there were a solid color instead of being split. Eyes drifting further down, he looked at the other scars that littered his body, looked at how there wasn’t an inch of unblemished skin. He looked as the colors ranged from an iridescent pinkish color to more angrier reddish tones, ones that could never quite heal, and would always leave him with these ugly marks.

Continuing to analyze every single flaw on him, Shouto didn’t hear the front door open, nor did he hear you call out, announcing your presence. Footsteps drawing closer, he didn’t notice that you were there until he could hear the doorknob click, the door swinging open.

“Sorry for barging in honey, but I’ve been holding my pee in all night so I—“ Eyes stopping on him, you gave him a small smile, “Hey handsome,”

Head whipping over to look at you, his eyes widened ever so slightly. It was normal for either of you to come into the bathroom while the other was using it. The two of you grew comfortable enough to not bother to lock the door since there was only one bathroom. However, Shouto wished that he’d locked the door tonight, as he was fairly certain that he looked like a mess.

While he continued to stare at you with worry, you frowned. Pointing towards the door, you spoke, “I can wait until you’re finished? I don’t have to go that badly,”

At the sound of your voice, he frantically shook his head, moving away from the mirror and into the shower. “No, go on ahead, I was just getting in,”

Before you could say anything Shouto shut himself in the shower. Deciding to not push the subject with a full bladder, you quickly went about your business, washed your hands and promptly left, moving to sit on the bed to wait for your boyfriend.

It took about eight minutes for the shower to turn off, and another five for him to finally exit the bathroom, slowly walking himself into your shared bedroom. Once he caught sight of you sitting on the edge of the bed, not having changed out of your work clothes, he felt his heart rate spike. Cautiously, he moved to sit by you, a small smile resting on his face, though you could tell it was forced. Reaching for his hand, you found yourself hesitating slightly before deciding to put your hand beside his, close enough that your pinkies were touching. Tilting your head, you tried to get a better look at the man.

“Are you alright?”

He blinked, trying to contain his every thought from spilling out at that moment. Nodding, he spoke up, “Of course I am, why—“

“Please don’t lie to me,” You spoke softly, a frown finding its way onto your face, “I’ve known you since high school, don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying.”

At first, your words were met with complete silence, with Shouto’s eyes trained on your hand. After a few more minutes of silence, just as you were about to give up your little interrogation for the night to go and take a shower, he broke the silence.

“I don’t get it,”

Eyebrows furrowing together, you leaned in closer to the man, as if the elimination of space would help you solve what was going on in his brain. “Don’t get what?”

He bit his lip, clearly going over the pros and cons of telling you what he’s been thinking for most of his life. Finally, he sighed, figuring that it was better to just rip off the bandaid rather than pretending that nothing was wrong.

“You called me handsome earlier,” He started, and when your face only grew more confused he continued, “The media likes to say that too. So why can’t I see myself that way too?”

He mumbled out the last part, as if he didn’t want you to hear it. At first, you stayed silent, unsure of what to say, or how to comfort the man in front of you. However, once you noticed his hands start to fidget, and his knees started to bounce, you moved so that he could see your face, a kind smile resting on your lips.

“Can I touch you?” You asked, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

When he nodded his head slightly, you gently grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the headboard of the bed before plopping yourself right into his lap. When he looked at you with a blank expression, you smiled sadly, cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“There, that’s better,” You started, gently brushing your thumbs across his face, “Now, let me into that gorgeous head of yours?” 

“Why do you call me that?” There was no venom behind his tone, just a confused boy who seemed hurt.

“Because it’s true,” You stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

When he still didn’t react positively, you retracted your hands from his face, opting to wrap them around his torso loosely. “Okay then, how about you list the things you don’t like about yourself, and I’ll tell you about the things that I love about you,”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Though he still indulged you regardless, even if bringing up all of his flaws worried him to an extreme amount.

“Fine, I hate my hair,” He started, his hands roughly pushing his bangs back, “I hate the way it looks and how it feels,”

“Well, I love your hair,” You countered, your own hands moving to gently pry his away from the red and white locks you love so much, “It reminds me of strawberries and milk, and it smells like it too,”

“It smells like charred hair,”

“So what? Sometimes my hair smells like gunpowder because of Katsuki, does that bother you?” When he shook his head, you smiled, patting his cheek lightly, “Exactly. What’s next?”

His grip on your waist seemed to grow tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded. “I don’t like my eyes. Sometimes I wish they were a single color,”

“It makes you rather unique, don’t you think?” You asked.

“It makes me feel like a freak,”

You hummed, a low sound in your throat as you caressed his cheek, your thumb gently soothing the area under his eye. “Well, for what it counts, I love your eyes. It’s probably the first thing that drew me in,”

He stared at you for a few more seconds, trying to see if there were any signs of falsehood in them. When he came up with nothing, he continued to list his reasons:

“I don’t like my hands,” He stated, looking at yours, “They’re too rough and dry,”

Frowning, you reached to grab one of his hands with your own, bringing it up to your lips to press a sweet kiss to the back of his hand. “That just means you work hard, there’s nothing to be ashamed of there,”

He snorted, though you could tell there was no humor behind it, “It can’t feel nice to hold,”

“I like them,” You announced, interlocking your fingers together, “It shows how much dedication you have when it comes to your work, and holding your hand is one of my favorite activities to do,”

You could tell that your words were getting to him, as his eyes started to glisten, unshed tears beginning to come forward. Pulling his hand away from yours, he turned his head to the side, not wanting to look at you as he continued to speak, “I don’t like my scars,”

Thinking back to what had just occurred in the bathroom, you felt your heart break just a bit. Squeezing him just a bit tighter, you did your best to keep your voice steady.

“Your scars show that you’ve saved lives,” You said, your hands brushing against the raised skin on his arms, “You love to help others, even if it comes at the sake of your own safety,”

“Well what about this one?” He asked, point to the one covering his left eye, “Not all scars show that I’ve saved lives, (Y/N). They’re not something that’s amazing or beautiful, there’s blemishes that I wish I could get rid of,”

Grabbing his hand with both of yours, you moved to press a feather light kiss to the bottom of his scar, feeling how he trembled beneath you. Moving back, you could feel tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

“No, you’re right. Not every scar tells a heroic story. Sometimes they’re reminders of horrible memories that we’d like to forget,” Squeezing his hand, you continued, “Your scars don’t define who you are though, Shouto. Sure, they tell the stories of your life, the struggles that you’ve been through, and the heroic deeds that you’ve done, but that doesn’t mean that it’s the only thing that defines you. I know that it’s hard to believe me now, and I hope in the future you’ll be able to feel the same way I do, but I love every single inch of you. I don’t care if your hair is silky or coarse, or if your hands are rough or not. All I care about is being with you, and all of those things that you hate, that’s what makes you so special to me. 

I’m not going to say that I can take away all of the pain you’ve been feeling, because honestly, I can’t. What I can promise you though is that I’ll still be with you no matter what, even on the days where you feel terrible and just want to hide away.”

By the end of your little speech, Shouto had dropped his head onto your shoulder, and you could feel his body begin to shake, and tears soak into your shoulder. 

For a while, the two of you said nothing, and the only sounds in the room were his light sniffles and your quiet humming. After what had to been half an hour, Shouto finally moved his head from your shoulder, his eyes having taken on a pink tint. When you felt him reach for your waist, you gladly let yourself be pulled into his chest, with your back pushed against his front. 

With a soft kiss to the top of your head, you heard him whisper out a quiet “thank you.” Smiling, you patted his hands, silently telling him that you were there.

“Don’t worry about it,” You spoke, feeling his breath begin to even out.

“Until you learn to love yourself, I’ll love you enough for the both of us,”

[backtobackbakubabe]

I am the Alpha Now Part 11

Bakugo X Reader 

Words: 3143

Masterlist

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically.

*****************************************************************************************************

Today you wore the short skirt. You knew it would rile up Bakugo and now that you could feel his emotions... well let’s just say this was going to be a fun day. It was the last day of actual class before final examinations started next week. You were going to drive him crazy.

There was a knock at your door, and you could tell it was Bakugo. You skipped over and threw the door open but before you could even say anything Mercy barreled past you almost knocking you over in his pursuit for his new friend!

“HEY! Can we go for a run tonight! Y/n says she has to study!”

Bakugo scratched Mercy’s head. “If she’s cool with it, I don’t mind. Just be ready because I’m going to beat you this time.”

He was really starting to get the hang of the telepathic communication. At first it was cute, but now that they could talk to each other without you... well it kinda sucked sometimes. You hadn't realized how much you cherished your unique bond with Mercy until that bond was shared with someone else.

You cleared your throat. Bakugo reached out and took your hand all the while continuing his banter with Mercy. He hadn’t even looked at you. He did give your hand a squeeze when he could feel your mood souring. But even then, his attention was fully on Mercy.

You pulled on his arm, “Hey babe look at what-”

Bakugo turned and gave your forehead a kiss, “Hold on pup Mercy and I are practicing the sharing senses thing. Can you imagine me going from not being able to hear to hearing everything!” He let go of your hand as you trailed a little behind, third wheeling your own pack. This is bullshit. You’re supposed to be in charge here. You reached out and tugged on his backpack, causing him to almost trip.

“Seriously what is up your ass this morning pup? If you can’t be patient, then I just might have spank some sense into you...”

The thought of him bending you over his knee had you equally excited and pissed. On one hand you loved it when he took control, but on the other hand you weren't in the mood to take orders.

You could see Todoroki walking ahead of you with his headphones on. While reaching for something in his backpack, one of his notebooks slipped out. Poor guy was probably just trying to get to class unbothered but now you were about to drag him into your pity party. You let go of Bakugo’s hand and ran ahead to help Todoroki pick his stuff up. You leaned over and you could feel Bakugo’s emotions spike as he realized what you were wearing.

“How kind of you y/n, thank you.” Todorki looked over your shoulder to a fuming Bakugo. “I would ask if you wanted to walk to class with me... but it seems your boyfriend is on the verge of explosion.” He took a few steps in the direction of the main campus when he called over his shoulder, “I don’t think that skirt is dress code by the way... but I think you already knew that.”

“Pup... what the fuck are you wearing?” Bakugo was behind you now, taking off his jacket and attempting to tie it around your waist. His arms snaked around your hips, his mouth close to your ear.

You grabbed his arms and hugged him closer to you. “What do you mean? I’m wearing my uniform.” He started to growl as you swayed your hips just slightly, “Oh no, no, no. You don't get to be angry. I think it’s time you remember that you aren’t in charge here.”

“Are... you trying to make me angry? I don’t think you want to play this game. I always win.” His voice sounded even sexier through the bond. A chill went down your spine at his words. You almost wanted to behave for him... almost.

You scoffed as you pulled yourself away from him, “And what game is that Bakugo? Because from where I’m standing, I’m just trying to get to class like a good student. Finals are next week after all.”

Bakugo gripped the jacket he had tied around your waist and pulled it off. “I guess we should start studying then.” He started shouting random questions at you in Japanese through the bond. He was talking so fast you had absolutely no idea what he said. His hand came up and slapped your ass. “Every time I ask you a question, you must answer, in perfect Japanese. If you get it wrong you get a punishment, if you get it right, a reward.

You turned to face him and narrowed your eyes. The alpha in you refused to back down to a challenge and he knew that. Your eyes flashed blue briefly and his mirrored. “Okay I’ll play. But when I win... you better be ready to pay up.”

He gave you a smirk before kissing the tip of your nose. “I think today just got a lot more interesting.”

You could feel his excitement, his competitive nature coming out full force. There was no doubt in your mind he would do everything he could to trick you. You suddenly wished you had taken school more seriously. But there was no time to worry about that now, you had to be ready.

You took your seat once you got to class. The anticipation had you buzzing. He could ask you a question at any moment. Bakugo took his seat behind you and started talking to Kiri. He’s never one to be social? Is he trying to trick you into letting down your guard?

Class started and your fidgeted with your pencil, nearly snapping it in half with anxiety. You’re were trying to pay attention, you really were, but you couldn’t let him catch you slipping. Finally, when your nerved finally started to calm down he asked his first question. “What year did we see the first quirks start to develop?”

Shit… You didn’t know.

You reached for you backpack to grab your notebook. You knew you could find the answer there. Just as you were unzipping it his food stretched out and kicked it away from you. “No cheating… you won’t have your notes on a final…” Your fists clenched in anger, but you quickly reminded yourself you were in a classroom and needed to keep your composure. “Final answer in 3….2….1…. aw look at that times up.”

Your palms began to sweat. What would your punishment be? He wouldn’t go too far right? I mean he’s your boyfriend after all, and very protective at that. He wouldn’t make you do something too embarrassing…. Right? Shit this is Bakugo you’re talking about of course he would.

“For your first punishment. I want you to moan. Just loud enough for Kiri and Icy Hot to hear. I want them to know what they’re missing.”

Your eyes bulged. Seriously? You can’t say you didn’t expect this to take a sexual turn at some point… but so soon? Damn he’s not playing around today.

You turned around to look at his devilish red eyes. The amount of mischievous satisfaction you could see there almost made you laugh. He was having fun.

You looked to your right to see Kiri pretending to pay attention, while he actually doodled costume ideas. And then right in front of you was Todoroki actually paying attention and taking perfect notes. Bakugo said to moan… he never said you couldn’t be sneaky about it. You stretched your arms out, and yawned but at the very last second moaned.

Kirishima’s pencil snapped and his eyes looked back and forth between you and your dumbass boyfriend. You could feel Bakugo’s glee through the bond. He was enjoying this. “What the fuck are you looking at shitty hair?”

Kiri blushed bright red before just shaking his head and returning to his doodles with a now broken pencil.

You were impressed that Todoroki hadn’t reacted but then you noticed the ice that was now thawing from his desk. Part of you was almost proud that could provoke such a response. You could feel the lust coming from Bakugo and it honestly had your mind going numb. “Hey stop that!”

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything…?”

You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, “Yes you are you horn dog? It’s literally the only thing I can feel coming off from you and it’s starting to overwhelm me a little bit.”

“Oh….”

You turned to see his cheeks pink and him biting his lip in an attempt to keep himself from laughing. “OH? What do you mean oh?”

He started nudging your foot with his, “I mean… I’m pretty sure that’s coming from you? Don’t get me wrong. Listening to you moan is hot. I could listen to it all day… but you’re the one sending all the fuck me vibes right now.”

“Oh shut up. There’s no way that’s me!”

He just chuckled, “Whatever you say pup.”

You went through the rest of class without incident. Mercy asked to leave because the two of you were making him nauseous. You had no idea where he went but you could feel that he hadn’t gone too far. Bakugo asked you a few questions periodically, but he took it easy on you and didn’t really ask anything too hard, so you got them all right. You were on your way to lunch when he grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. “I fucking hate that skirt…”

You leaned into him, “I know.”

He shook his head as he led you to a table. He walked off to get your lunch as per usual, leaving you with a very confused Kiri sitting across from you. “Sometimes I think I know you guys, but then other days it’s like you’re from a different planet. What was that in class today? I know that wasn’t an accident y/n. No one freaking yawns like that. And Bakugo was wearing a shit eating grin the entire time.”

You just shrugged, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Kiri. If I made you uncomfortable though I apologize.”

Bakugo placed your tray of food in front of you and dropped a plastic bag filled with double chocolate cookies next to you. “Your reward pup. One cookie for every question. I kept track.” He kissed the top of your head and then took his seat next to you.

Kiri looked between the two of you and shook his head, “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. I give up.”

You were stuffing your face with another cookie on the way to training when Bakugo pulled you to the side and asked another question, “Who was the first notable villain of Japan?”

Shit, shit, shit, you knew this! You went over this in class last week… “3…2…1…. Times up pup.”

“WAIT! No fair my mouth was full!”

He licked his lips, “Oh it’s about to be…” He pulled you into a nearby supply closet and locked the door. He took a seat on a step ladder and patted his knee. “Alright you know the drill. Three spanks”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Pissed off to have gotten another question wrong. “This is bullshit. I was eating something…”

You bent over his knee and pulled your skirt up. His hand came down with a hard slap, “You still could have answered through the bond. You have no excuse.” Another slap. “Shit y/n. Seriously? You’re flooding me with lust right now. I can’t even focus.” One last slap, and it had you moaning for real this time. His hand clamped down over you mouth. “Okay seriously. What is going on with you?”

Your mind was getting fuzzy and you could feel yourself getting lost in your own emotions. “Shit.” You pushed yourself off of Bakugo and pulled out your phone to pull out the calendar. No, no, no. Not now!

Bakugo could feel you panicking and was immediately behind you rubbing your back. He looked over your shoulder at the calendar app and froze. “Hey are you okay? You’re not like… late or anything right?”

You sighed, “No, no, nothing like that. It’s just a wolf thing. It’s stupid. I’ll explain it to you later. Right now we need to get to the gym before we get in trouble. We’re probably already late as it is.”

Based on the look he was giving you, he clearly didn’t believe you. But he nodded his head anyways and helped you up. Giving your forehead a quick kiss, “We can end the game here if it’s too much for you?” His look of concern had your heart fluttering.

“Nope, I said I was going to win, and I meant it. Now let’s go slow poke!”

Sparring with Bakugo had been torturous. You still were struggling to keep your emotions in check and it didn’t help having his sweaty body so close to you trying to pin you down. Your thoughts were inappropriate to say the least. Then he just had to start yelling questions at you through the bond. It was like he was trying to make you crack. You managed to get every single one right though. Which meant big rewards coming your way.

You were the last one in the locker room. Taking your time in the cold shower, trying to clear your head. You were about to start your heat. It was something you’ve had to deal with since you hit puberty. You don’t have periods like most girls. Nope. You went through heat like a dog once a year. You knew it was coming but for some reason you hadn’t thought to mention it to your clueless boyfriend. You usually keep it a secret from other people. It’s so embarrassing. It made you feel like a freak. You had learned how to deal with it when you were younger but for some reason it seemed so much more intense this year.

You were pulling your skirt back on when you heard a familiar voice clear his throat. “What’s going on with you today?”

You turned to see Bakugo leaning against a set of lockers. “I told you. I’m fine. It’s stupid…”

He stalked closer to you, “Wrong answer pup…And for your punishment…” His hands gripped the end of your skirt. “I think I’m just going to take this…” He ripped the skirt up the middle until it fell off your body. He threw the tattered remains in his backpack and handed you a pair of sweatpants.”

“Wh-what was that?” Your eyes were welling with frustrated tears. He was so close to you. You could smell him. You wanted him, you needed him and he’s just going to tease you like that? You were starting to spiral. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you were being ridiculous. That he didn’t know. That this was your traitorous hormones taking over.

Your legs began to shake and just as you fell, he caught you. “Ok seriously what the hell. You’re really starting to scare me. What’s going on?”

You clenched the front of his shirt, “I’m sorry! It’s just… It’s dumb… but uhm…” Your face began to turn a deep shade of red.

He tilted your head up to look you in the eyes, “Hey whatever it is just say it. Were bonded now y/n. I don’t know about you, but that feels kind of like a forever thing. So just let me help you with… whatever this is. It’s obviously bothering you.”

You took a deep breath, “I’m in heat.” All you got was a blank stare, so you cleared your throat and tried again, “Once a year I go into heat, which is basically my bodies way of saying it’s time to mate. And I have absolutely no control over it. I’ve learned of ways to help manage it but for some reason this year its’ so intense. My emotions are everywhere and magnified by ten. I can’t even tell what’s real anymore. I just need… I don’t know”

He scooped you up into his lap. “No tell me, what do you need?”

“YOU!”

You had never given Bakugo Alpha voice before. And you definitely didn’t mean to now. Your wolf instincts were taking over.  It definitely didn’t have the same effect on him that it did on Mercy. But you could still feel the chills it gave him.

Before you knew it he was pulling down his zipper and setting you up in a position with you straddling him. “At your own pace pup. Whatever you need okay? If this is what you need to feel better then let’s do it.”

You looked him in the eyes, “Are you sure? I mean once I start it could take days before I’m done…”

He cupped your cheek and scoffed, “Y/n… you realize that sounds like an absolute fucking dream to me, right? Having sex with my amazing, beautiful, fucking bad ass girlfriend… FOR DAYS. Hell yeah! We have all weekend.

You felt another wave of lust start to wreak havoc on your body. You could tell Bakugo felt it too and it was then that you understood. “It’s the bond. I’ve only ever handled it on my own before. Now every time my emotions spike, you feel it too. It’s like it magnifies it and makes it so much stronger.

Bakugo was hard beneath you now as he called out to Mercy, “Hey man I don’t know where you are, but if you get a chance come guard the girl’s locker room door please.”

Mercy was quick to reply, “You guys are disgusting… I’m on my way.”

You made quick work riding yourself of your underwear as you sank down on top of him. Your eyes flashed bright and total and complete bliss took over you. Every cell in your body was singing. This was where you belonged. You were a puzzle that had missing pieces until this very second.

You looked up to see a single tear falling down Bakugo’s cheek, “It’s so beautiful. The way you feel… it’s like you’re completely in sync with me. It’s amazing.”

What had started as a desperate and lustful action was slowly turning into something more… passionate. You leaned in and pressed your forehead to his as you started to grind yourself into him. His hands found your hips and together you found a rhythm that was so good you finally knew why people called it making love. This was love, this was art, this was your forever. This time next week you’ll be graduated, and you know there’s no way you’re going back home without him.

**************************************************************

TAGS: @tspice283 , @realityisoftendisapointing , @imbi-101 , @thoughtfulpandazine2 , @hotarumorikawa , @huh-iwasntpayingattention , @starfishlovingbnha , @weebnumber3622 , @mixedfeeelings , @munchmunch01 , @inumorph @xxoperatexx 

[bigskydreaming]

Okay haha I lied, whoops I do that. THIS is the last one. Again from various parts of ‘Kings of the Sky’ but since I was talking so much about Dick’s grandfather, why not some snippets of him from this series too. (For this AU I imagined what if Dick’s paternal grandparents lived into their eighties, like do we KNOW they couldn’t have? Hmm? Don’t answer that if we do, shh, let me have this. Anyway, so here Dick’s grandmother died when he was two and his grandfather when he was five.)

Dick is retelling this story about him and his grandfather to Jason and Cass.

************

“But there is no King of the Sky, Dickie,” he’d said to me then with a wink. “That’s the joke, you see? No one can claim the sky as theirs, no one can own it. Send your armies to seize it in your name and all you’d see is legions of empty-handed fools all grasping at air! There’s no way to draw your borders, no foundation on which you could build any walls. And where would you even put your throne?”

“He’d laughed then, mischievous and wheezing, as he recalled all the courts the circus had entertained back in its glory days, when Europe’s nobility would always each host some circus or troupe or performers at various festivals. All the kings and queens for whom he’d performed his signature feats, who’d show him off to their most important guests afterwards. The ones who had been invited specifically so they’d see that this court held only the grandest of celebrations, that they and their guests were entertained by only the very best of the best.”

“Oh, but they were always so eager to introduce me by title,” he’d said, rheumy eyes still somehow keeping their sparkle. “There they were, kings and crown princes, pushing me forward and telling their guests to come greet me, this commoner they were all too glad to proclaim royalty no different to them. After all, any king can present his guests with an entertaining spectacle, but how much grander is the king who hosts the spectacle of being entertained by another king? Ah, but they were always more than happy to elevate me if but for the night…in doing so, they elevated themselves as well. Up we all went, all without feet ever leaving the floor!”

“Names can be such a funny thing, don’t you think?” He’d sighed and sort of mused then, stroking his chin like he was pondering some great mystery. “Meaning nothing and everything all at the same time. That’s a powerful trick. Useful too, if you can master it.”

I know I started giggling then, just because as far back as I can remember, names were always kind of a…almost a passion of his, I guess you could say. It was just this thing he did, it was like he could never just let a name be. There was always some trick to a name, he’d insist. You just had to find it. Its why our family colors were red, yellow and green, as a matter of fact. All in only the brightest hues of each, combining to make us the complete opposite of the Gray in our name.

"The crowd comes in to see the acrobat named Grayson,” my grandfather would say, “and what do they expect from just the name? Drab, unremarkable, likely to be lost in the shadows, from just the sound of him. But then he dives off the platform in a burst of colors impossible to miss and the crowd gasps, expectations shattered in an instant….and from there, they think, what more surprises might possibly await? And already you have them at the edge of their seat, eyes caught by the colors of a costume its impossible to lose sight of. You command their attention, you’re unencumbered by their assumptions, and they’re yours from that moment on. And all of that from just a pop of color, a warning that you are not what they thought….and a name. A Flying Grayson, up above as expected, yet unexpectedly the brightest thing in the sky. An inherent contradiction. An impossible sight you can’t help but to see.”

“Anyway, so there I was,” Dick said, straightening up and shaking his head with a slightly rueful smile, as if to physically pull himself out of the undertow of memories tugging him further away from where he’d begun. “Already giggling just from his little chin-stroking act as he started talking about names, because I knew he was bound to say something silly next, just from that. And he’d jumped a little, and turned in his chair to face me directly and with his full focus, because Grandpa thrived off of an engaged audience like nothing else.”

“Yes, a powerful thing, a name,” he’d continued after a moment that was either a dramatic pause or me thinking anything longer than ten seconds might as well be the same as an hour, at that age. “But a tricky business, naming things, as you first have to know what a thing is, before you attempt to claim it by naming it what it is not. Because being named can just as easily be a powerful trap, of course. If a man doesn’t know himself well enough to know he is not what a name claims, he can wind up stuck in a cage that’s not sized to fit him. Simply because he doesn’t know he has more than enough room to slip free of it if he tried.”

“Then he leaned down close enough to me to whisper, and looked around as if checking we were alone before dropping into a raspy whisper like we were conspiring. “But a man who knows what he wants and knows what he’s capable of, and can put the right name to both….that’s where the real magic is. Do you know what kind of power your name has?”

“Richard means lion-hearted,” I remember reporting after some thought. And that he blew a raspberry right after that like he was the five year old of the two of us, but then, Grandpa was just like that sometimes. “Yes, yes, true enough,” he said, making a face like he’d tasted something sour, “But I don’t mean the one your father picked probably to spite me for naming him John in the first place. No matter how many times I tell him I had nothing to do with that, I lost the right to name him in a card game with your Grandmother. Although for the record, I still maintain I didn’t lose, she just cheated. But I still have no idea how she did it so I have to respect that, I suppose. But no. Not that name. The one your mother gave you.”

“And of course then I knew he meant Robin, and said so, and he asked what that meant to me. And I remember thinking long and hard about that one, because as I said, I knew even by that age what Grandpa was like on the subject of names, and so I was sure there was some kind of riddle or game in what he was asking, I just wasn’t sure where. So finally I just referred back to what my Mom always used to say, about me being born on the first day of spring, and being her little Robin. And he just nodded, and then he asked: And do you remember the first time you called yourself Robin to someone else, and why? What you said then?”

*******************

And then from the very last (intended) installment, ‘Its a Long, Long Way To Tipperary,’ again with Dick telling this to Jason and Cass and finishing a conversation started earlier in the series:

“Names have power,” Grandpa said to me, on one of the last days I remember with him before he passed away. We were sitting outside in folding chairs and watching the stars, until he got too cold and we had to go in. But while we were out there, so much of what he said…I didn’t really understand most of it at the time. Honestly, even what I thought I understood, I realized years later wasn’t really right. I could follow the words but so much of what he meant, I didn’t even begin to understand until I happened to look back to that night years later.

But for months I’d heard my parents talking when they thought I couldn’t hear. I’d seen him doubled over and coughing more and more frequently, how tightly he clutched a blanket around him when it wasn’t really all that cold. I may not have fully known what was coming but I think I knew on some level that something was coming to an end.

And I remember him talking so fast that night, words spilling out so quickly in a confusing mess like he couldn’t take the time to shape them properly and just had to get them out….I remember soaking it all in, as much as I could, knowing that it was important even if I didn’t know what it even was, or why. Like I was trying to just….absorb it, make it a part of me the way it almost felt like it was bleeding out of him. I don’t know that the thought, the image of him dying that summer, of soon being without him, I can’t say whether that actually ever occurred to me. I just know that I knew urgency, and I knew Grandpa was only urgent when it mattered, so I listened without understanding and somehow managed to store most of it away. And honestly, I don’t know that he was even trying to make sure he was understood, or even caring….so much as just trying to get it out of him, like what was most important was just that he said it and it was heard. Maybe just so he knew it wouldn’t die with him.

“But however it got there, however it was I managed to remember clearly enough, there it all was, and right when I most needed to hear what he’d said to me that night. The things nobody else could have told me because nobody else knew the secret language of names that he seemed to speak, that he’d spent his whole life learning all so that maybe he could somehow in that find his own name. Not the label he’d been left with, a description or title.....but a name, the one each child is supposed to get, something to say who they are, not merely what.”

“Names have power,” he said to me that night. “They can be magic in the right hands. A man who knows who he is knows his own name. And the things you can do with that, the doors that can be unlocked…oh, Dickie, my boy. There’s a door to anywhere if you can speak the right name when asked for a key. But its not enough to just say them and throw them around, its not the sounds, the words, its what they are. You can’t pretend to know a thing, to know yourself. You have to really, truly know. But once you know….for a boy as bright as you, there’s no end to the possibilities.”

“So here’s what you must always remember, the real trick of it all…..names have power. But the power isn’t in the name. The power is in what you put in that name. You can’t claim a name and therein take its power, you see….because you have to know first what you’re trying to take from it, what you see when you look at it. What you want it to be, want it to give to you, what you want it to make you when you say this is me and I am this. Your father named you Richard, though he calls you Dickie. You were born a Flying Grayson and thus you always will be. Your mother named you her little Robin, born on the first day of spring. And all of these can be you, because no one is just one thing. And yet none of them are you unless you claim them to be.

So if you are to be Robin, as your mother named you but is only you if you choose to say yes that is me…..before you claim it fully, before you truly make it yours, you have to look at Robin and what you want the mirror to show when you look in it and say I am Robin and this is me. You have to see Robin not as even your mother sees her Robin, but as you see your Robin.

That’s the danger and that’s the trick.

You can’t claim Robin while seeing only what someone else sees, and think that by claiming it you’ve claimed its power….instead you’ve just claimed a trap, donned a self that doesn’t suit you because it is not you, only something someone else thought could be you.

Because in claiming that, you claim everything that comes with it….and then you will never be free to be more than whatever they thought you could be. There is no power in that, no potential, no freedom…..just the limitations you’ve accepted as your own, because someone thought you limited by such things, and yet you agreed that they were right when you claimed the name….but only the name as they shaped and imagined it to be.

So who is Robin? What power do you see in that name? Don’t reach out and seize it the moment someone sets it forth in front of you, assuming that is all it can be, the highest it can ever take you. Never claim a name if you haven’t first looked at it as you first see it...and then imagined it bigger, and then imagined it deeper, and then imagined it greater...and then kept going until you can’t imagine any more. And only then will you know what that name is…..when you say this name is who I truly want to be.

Robin is a bird, yes, Robin Red-Breast, a creature of spring, of the air, of new life. You can claim that and make it yours but first…..what else could Robin be?

Can not Robin just as easily be Robin Hood or Robin Goodfellow? Couldn’t you be? And why even be just one, when you can be all three?

No man is ever just one thing, and any man who thinks that he is has more dreaming to do. 

So be Robin, in as much as you imagine Robin to be. Be the bird that flies, or the champion of the poor, or the merry trickster whom even kings fear. Or be all of them in one….there’s power enough for all of that in just that one little name….so long as you put it there first.

Its that simple, and its that tricky. There is no in between. You are whatever you claim as you - but the good and the bad, for better and for worse. The space that name holds and the walls that hold it in.

So if you remember nothing more, Dickie, Richard, Robin times three or however many more Robins you might be…..if someday you say I taught you nothing else, there’s nothing else I gave you or left for you to take with you wherever you go, hear me now, and remember this:

No matter how well you might think it suits you at first, the name you claim because it fits you as you are....will never be more than a trap.

The power in names, the true power…..only comes from claiming the name that fits the you, that you would dream yourself to be.

You can always be more than you are. And any name that tells you otherwise is not truly anything but a lie.

Many kings of the earth have laughed as they introduced your family as Kings of the Sky throughout the years. But the jest they don’t get is for all their riches, they were the ones content to claim titles and deeds that leave them trapped on the ground, confined within borders of their own makings, sealed behind walls they chose to erect between them and everything that was not theirs and thus would never be. But a King of the Sky soars above all of that, needing none of that…..because the sky has no end, and is so much vaster than any of that could ever be.

So if you would someday choose a crown, my little Prince of the Sky, never seek yours on the ground. Reach for one bigger than the ground could ever hold….only that could ever fit all that you might someday be.”

[theravennest]

Hey, I saw your post about 3 will be free and binged watched it one night! I'm confused though, did Neo, Miw, and Shin got together at the end, or were Shin and PP a thing? Is it like a poly open relationship? Also, if Shin kept working in his dad's business how is he "free"? Shin deserves better🥺 I'm so confused istg😭 help a fella over here, will you?🥺

@nerdinacoolway

It’s def up for interpretation but let’s do a bit of scene dissection, shall we?

Shin lives and works primarily in Bangkok but visits the resort. How often he visits up to the point of the epilogue, who knows? But Neo and Miw weren’t in any way shocked that he showed up nor did they react like they haven’t seen him in months, so it seems he visits enough. They only teased him about his fancy outfit (that deep, sexy V that the costume director keeps putting him in).

Shin mentions that he wants to visit more often and is there to buy a house nearby. Since there’s nothing else on the island I can fathom he’d care about, this makes me believe he’s moving closer to be near Neo and Miw. Neo then says he should stay with them since their place is his home and place to eat. Shin smiles and gives a kind of head nod like he welcomes the idea even if he doesn’t verbally decide on if he’ll take them up on the offer yet.

That’s when PP comes in. When PP flirts with Shin and insinuates he helps Shin with “personal” business too, Shin wasn’t embarrassed or shy. Instead he gave PP a small glare to censure him. Was it because Shin didn’t like that PP was flirting in general...or because he was flirting in front of Miw and Neo, Shin’s partners?

At the very least, Shin’s reaction when Miw and Neo were teasing him definitely makes me believe him when he says he’s not interested in PP at this time. If that will change in the future, again, who knows?

Then our trio moves out to the beach to reminisce about the last time they were there. Neo especially brings up when they all kissed and had sex. Miw scolds him and says that he shouldn’t be explicitly talking about that since the islanders already can’t stand them. Neo counters that it shouldn’t matter who talks about them nor does it matter who they love or how many they love. Shin agrees with Neo and Miw finally gives way. Then the three start playing in the water.

Since I don’t see why the islanders would give a damn about Neo and Miw being in a relationship given they are a man and a woman, I took this to mean the whole island knows Shin, Neo, and Miw are dating and many of them disapprove of the arrangement.

Based on these context clues, I genuinely believe that Neo, Miw, and Shin are in a relatively open poly. I don’t believe Neo and Miw would ever date anyone except each other and Shin but they are ok with Shin also dating PP if he wants. They’ve both expressed disliking putting restrictions on their relationships with Shin both before the finale and again in the epilogue.

But, hey...maybe that’s just my wishful brain wanting them to be a confirmed, stable poly-V.

Now, onto the second part of the ask: whether Shin is “free” since he’s now taken over his father’s mafia...

This is also up for interpretation but I think there are degrees and qualities of freedom that the main characters all achieve. I think all (including Ter and Mae) have fairly bittersweet endings, some more bitter while others are sweeter. Ter and Mae have the bitterest endings, for sure.

Ter finds spiritual freedom from his violent habits and life of crime by embracing Mae but he doesn’t get true freedom as he is brutally killed before he can find happiness with Mae.

Mae finds freedom from her grief and pain over Phon, finds freedom from her own self doubt about standing up for herself, and finds freedom in having the transition surgery she’s wanted for years. Despite this, she still loses Ter and is plunged into grief, rage, and vengeance all over again. The only freedom she gets after that is exacting her revenge on his killer. So...sour.

Neo is freed from the danger and fear of running from the mafia. His life of poverty and disenfranchisement is behind him and he finds the monetary, spiritual, and emotional stability with Miw and Shin that he’s craved his entire life. Regardless of Neo’s hard won bungalow freedom, tho, his brother was still murdered because of choices Neo made. He likely won’t ever fully find peace with that.

Miw’s ending was the sweetest, I think. She was able to completely face her past as someone who killed her abuser, she reconciled somewhat with her step-uncle before he died, cleared her name, came to terms with her relationship with her mother, found love with Neo and Shin, and calmed the internal storm that always urges her to screw over others and run away. Miw came out on top, for sure.

Shin’s ending is the most complex outside of Mae’s, in my opinion, maybe more so since they gave more time/importance to his journey. His freedom is found with no longer being under his father’s thumb. He is completely in control of his own destiny. That he chooses to take over his father’s mafia is not necessarily a sign that he’s not free, I think. Not only is he clearly good at what he does, since Neo implies that Shin could buy the whole island, but his new empire also grants him authority and monetary security. Plus we don’t know that he’s not working to legitimize his business and clean up his father’s dirty money so maybe he won’t be a mafia don for long.

Shin has also gained the emotional and spiritual acceptance of Neo and Miw. He struggled through the whole show in finding peace with his sexuality and with his difficult relationship with intimacy, duty, and responsibility. There is definitely a bittersweet-ness to the implication that he’s given up his dream of being an artist or at the very least has set it aside as a career goal. 

That said, Shin seems genuinely self assured and content in the epilogue. He’s making plans for his future with Neo and Miw, plus he allows himself to be openly affectionate and playful with them. All in all, not bad for him.

I think there’s definitely a way to finish 3 Will Be Free and feel that the end wasn’t what you wanted. Certainly some characters had more positive endings than others. I definitely don’t want to invalidate that takeaway for people. The impact of any artwork is deeply subjective, after all.

For me, the only character that got truly shortchanged was Mae. After all the tragedy and trauma she went through, I personally wish we’d at least seen a glimpse of her years later too, preferably happy in her life.

I was satisfied with where the principle 3 characters ended up. I think a show that had such a morally and emotionally complex journey earned an equally complicated denouement, so to speak.

I’m sorry to just dump this whole essay on your ask but once I started writing I couldn’t stop. lmao

[sunshinejihyun]

Green Apples || Kiro

Author’s note: Look, this was supposed to be a cute simple Halloween fic but it turned into something much more. I’m not even mad about it though. Um this isn’t edited so if you see any mistakes, no you didn’t.

Summary: A stolen night with a masked stranger on Halloween leads to something more when you find out who’s behind that mask.

Warnings: some drinking

Word count: 5011

Masterlist

After filming had ended for the day, Kiki and Willow had grabbed your arm and pulled you out of your office and back to your apartment, ignoring your protests. “Guys, I still have work to get done!”

“Not on Halloween you don’t! It’s the first year my kids are old enough to be on their own and I’m partying. I need you guys there as my wing-women!” Anna reached into her leather top and pulled her bosom up, smiling at herself in the mirror before fluffing her hair. She was dressed as Catwoman, the leather and latex that was sticking to every single one of her curves made her look younger than she was. If you didn’t know her, you would have guessed her to be mid 20’s, not in her 30’s. “Now hurry up girls, your costumes are on the bed.” Kiki and Willow jumped off your twin bed and assessed the costumes before starting to discuss who would look better in what. Peering over their shoulders, you snuck a peak at the costumes. “I think Willow would look best in the Wonder Woman costume,” you quipped. They both turned around to hear your explanation, eyebrows raised in question. “Kiki and I are both short. Willow’s taller and her legs would look killer in that skirt with those thigh high boots she wore to the company’s Christmas party last year, let’s be honest.”

“Oh my gosh! Boss is right, Willow. You’ve gotta wear that, it’ll look so good!” Kiki pleaded, clasping her hands together and doing her best to pout at her friend.

“Well I can’t argue with my girls, can I?” Willow asked, reaching for the costume and started stripping from her work clothes. “Oh man, guess I won’t be breathing tonight.”

“We don’t need to breathe, we just need to look hot.” Anna turned from your makeup mirror and all three of you gasped at her. The dark smokey eye and bright red lipstick made her look even more pale than normal but the shimmer she had highlighting her cheekbones made her look extraordinary, like she was an ethereal being.

“Anna, you look amazing!” You exclaimed, dropping the costume you had in your hand. “Oh my gosh, I would never be able to tell you have two kids! I won’t be surprised if you leave the party with someone tonight.”

She winked and blew a kiss at you. “That’s the plan babe! Now come on, you guys need to get dressed!”

Glancing at Kiki, you saw her eyeing the Harley Quinn costume so you grasped the green costume. “I think you’ll look really good as Harley, Kiki. Willow and Anna can help do your makeup!”

Kiki took the costume into your small bathroom and you shrugged off your clothes. “Can someone help me zip?”

“Sure babes, come here.” Anna gestured for you to make your way over to where she was perched on your makeup table. Pulling the zipper up on the costume she squealed. “Your butt looks amazing in this costume. Definitely the best choice!”

You shrugged your shoulders, smoothing down the spandex covered with leaves. “I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be!”

“I’m not really sure either, all that matters is that you look hot!” You and Anna giggled and Kiki walked back into the room, twirling around in her costume.

“Kiki, you look amazing! Come here hun, let me do your makeup!” Willow gestured her over and Kiki skipped over puckering her lips obscenely and making Willow sigh out in annoyance. “Never mind, you can do it yourself.” She teased.

Anna wordlessly started to dab a pinky-orange lipstick on your lips and you sat down, letting her get to work. “And…” Anna brushed something on your cheeks, stepped back, and grinned down at her work. “Perfect!”

Turning to look in the mirror, your jaw dropped. The makeup she had done made it so you didn’t even look like yourself. You looked sexy, like someone you’d see in a magazine, or at least on TV.

“Boss! You look amazing!”  Kiki yelled out, running over and wrapping her arms around you, careful to not smudge either of your makeup. “We all look amazing. We all better be leaving tonight with a man or woman on our arms or so help me God, I’ll give up on love forever!”

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Willow threw her hair over her shoulder. “Now ladies, are we ready to go?”

Anna handed each of you a mask that would cover your eyes, but not one of the lame plastic ones, these were each individually gorgeous, made to go with your costumes. They were lined lace, gemstones, and colors that complimented the outfits. The masks mixed with everyone's smokey eyes and bright lips really brought every costume together and brought butterflies to your stomach. Despite originally not wanting to go, you actually found yourself looking forward to a night off work with the girls.

The party was already in full swing by the time you and the girls entered the bar. The bass was vibrating the floor and purple lights were flashing in time to the beat of the music. Anna left your side almost immediately, blowing a kiss in your group's direction before setting her sights on who you can only assume was a handsome man in some scrubs and a plague doctor’s mask.

“Well, she wasted no time,” Willow observed, grabbing her beer off the bar and taking a short drink.

Kiki suddenly stopped in her tracks. “I. Love. This. Song!” Each word was enunciated  and she tugged on Willow’s arm excitedly. “Come dance with me, Boss can hold our drinks.” Kiki shoved her drink in your hand and dragged Willow away, leaving you alone near the bar, two drinks in your hand but neither of them yours.

Watching them dance from the sideline had you smiling, they were never like this at work and it was wonderful to see both of them having the time of their lives. It almost made you forget that you weren’t out there, but your attention was pulled away from them quickly when someone came and stood by you.

“So many people to kill, so little time, huh?” Your skin prickled when the voice filtered through your ears and you turned to face the man, coming face to face with him. He was so close to you that you could smell sour apple candy on his breath.

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows raised and you took a step back.

“It’s uh, it’s a line that Poison Ivy says to Batman in one of the Batman and Robin films!” The man exclaimed, reaching under his black mask to scratch an itch on his face. “I thought it’d be a good opener because I’m dressed as Batman and you’re dressed as Poison Ivy. We’re supposed to be nemeses but I don’t think I could fight someone as pretty as you.”

Despite not knowing who was speaking to you, you found your cheeks flushing and you were grateful for the lights in the bar flashing bright colors, it was easier to hide the rouge starting to form. “Sorry,” you laughed and closed the distance between you and your new acquaintance once more. “I’m not actually a fan, my friend picked out the costumes.”

“Which one? Harley Quinn or Wonder Woman?” You wished you could see more of this man’s face that was hidden under a dark mask. He was charming and his piercing eyes felt like they were reaching in your soul and spreading warmth and happiness within.

“Wow, you do pay attention. Neither, my friend dressed as Catwoman picked them out. I think her goal was to find the tightest outfits in the store, and in which case she definitely succeeded.” You took a drink of Willow’s beer, she wasn’t around and it’d probably be gross by the time she came back anyway.

“Of course I paid attention when the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen walked in.”

“That was such a line.” You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips and the guy burst out laughing.

“I know! I can’t believe you thought I was serious. I just wanted to see if you were someone who fell for cheesy lines like that!” His smile was gorgeous and the sound of his laugh stirred up butterflies in your stomach. It’s been forever since you met someone who made you feel like this. “Do you want to dance?” He held out his hand, head tilted towards the dance floor and without thinking too much, you set down the drinks you were holding and grasped his hand.

He pulled you into the middle of the crowd and spun you around before pulling you close, so close that you both were chest to chest, and started moving his hips, your usually uncoordinated body easily following in his lead. “Wow, you’ve got some moves!” The music was louder than it was by the bar and you couldn’t tell if he had actually heard you, but he had a smile settle on his lips.

After dancing to a few songs, he led you back to the bar. “I’m gonna get a water, you want anything?”

Raising your eyebrows in question, you settled on the barstool next to him. “Not drinking tonight?” He shook his head no. “Alright, one water for me too please.”

“Thanks,” the guy told the bartender when he set down the two bottles in front of the both of  you. “So,”

“I usually don’t make a habit of dancing with people I don’t even know.” You laughed, gulping down some water. “I don’t know what came over me, it’s like you’re intoxicating.”

“Believe it or not, you’re not the first to say that to me!” The guy leaned in, resting his hand on your thigh. Normally, you’d shy away from a touch like that but after being pressed up against his hard body for the past 7 songs on the dance floor, this touch seemed more innocent than before. “I’ve never connected with someone like this before.”

“Boss!” Kiki came running up, cheeks flushed and dark red lipstick smudged. “Have you heard this song? It’s Kiro! Come with me, we all have to dance!”

You glanced at your current dance partner who rolled his eyes at the mention of Kiro. “Don’t tell me you’re a Kiro fangirl? I’d have to take back what I just said to you.”

“Kiki, I think I’ll sit this one out. You’ll just have to dance even harder with Anna and Willow to make up for it, but I’m sure you can do it!” Turning back to the man who was staring at you, an intense look in his eyes, you smiled. “I personally like Kiro’s music, but I don’t go crazy about him like some people. I honestly think he deserves some privacy to just be him. Everyone expects too much of someone who’s only 22.”

“I never thought of it that way. I just know some people who go crazy for him and… it makes me uncomfortable!” The man held his hand out to you once more. “Do you wanna go outside, get some air?”

You rationally knew that it wasn’t the smartest decision to go out on your own with a man you just met, but looking at him with the charming smile he had only used on you that night, you felt your heart make the decision before your head could catch up. “Absolutely.”

This time when you grabbed his hand, he squeezed it affectionately before interlacing your fingers. Your hand was sweaty and you wanted to pull away to wipe it off but he wouldn’t let you, instead just opting to hold on tighter.

The cold October air on your cheeks soothed you and helped cool your body temperature. Without thinking, you took off your mask and patted down the sweaty area that it was resting on. Turning towards the man, you saw he had stopped in his tracks, mouth slightly open, and was staring. “You’re beautiful.��� He whispered, reaching out to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear.

Looking down at your feet, so small compared to him, you fought off a wide grin. “Yeah, sure. I’m sure I look great with makeup running down my face right now.”

“No seriously,” his hand reached under your chin to tilt your eyes to meet his. Although you hardly knew this man, you haven’t seen his full face, and you didn’t even know his name, there was something about him that made you feel so safe. Like being wrapped in a warm hug after being out in the cold for long hours. “To me, you are so beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me.” You whispered, your faces so close to one another. His blue eyes so clear in the night were searching your face, taking in the new features he hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t trust easily, but there’s something about you…” His eyes landed on your lips after glancing at them a few times before. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded and stood on your tiptoes, closing the small gap between the two of you. Despite not seeing him eat a piece of candy since you had met him earlier that night, he still tasted of green apple candy. He cupped your face so tenderly, like if he were to hold you a little too tight, you might break. He pulled back before pecking your lips once more. “Can you tell me who you are?” Your nose was still brushing his as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Promise me it won't change anything about tonight?” He took your hands and guided you to grip the fabric mask that’s been on his face since the moment he met you. “Please,”

“I promise,” his eyes were pleading and you felt yourself wanting to melt into his touch, to do nothing but reassure him that your connection was too strong now to care about who he was or what he looked like. “I can promise you that with my whole heart.” His hands, still covering your own, helped you grasp the mask, pulling it over his head. A shock of blond hair fell out of the dark fabric and when he brushed it out of his eyes, you gasped. “Kiro?”

“Shh,” his hands moved to cover your mouth but you quickly intercepted them and linked both of them with your own. Both of your masks were discarded on the cold ground, but they were forgotten. “No one can know I’m here.” “But-” you cut yourself off, stopping yourself from bombarding him with tons of questions. “I’m just-”

“Shit!” Kiro swore, ducking down to grab his mask off the ground. “That’s my agent. He will kill me if he sees me.” You saw the man Kiro was pointing at and he narrowed his eyes at the pair of you before starting to make his way over to the both of you. “I… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to go. Umm… you know how to get a hold of me, so I hope I’ll get a message from you soon, Miss Ivy.” Kiro pressed a kiss to your cheek before taking a deep breath and running off.

“Excuse me miss, who was that guy you were just with?” Kiro’s agent approached you, an apprehensive look on his face.

You panicked and said the first thing that came to your mind. “My boyfriend. Who are you?”

“Oh, sorry, I guess I got the wrong person.” His agent distractedly walked off in the other direction and you sighed, heading back inside the bar.

As you were entering, you bumped into Anna, her arms wrapped around the man with the plague doctor mask that she was eyeing earlier. Now, his mask was off and your assumption was right, he was handsome. “Oh, hey babe!” She let go of him and stumbled over to you, throwing her arms around your neck. “You’re so pretty. I’m going to go home with this nice man his name is Brandon from the bar, so if I don’t show up to work on Monday tell the police that, preferably that cute one, Gavin. It’d be nice to be rescued by him.”

You glanced towards the man who held up his hands in surrender. “She’s got my address and number, she was gonna send it to you guys, I’ll make sure she sends it on our way over to my place.”

Nodding, you patted her head gently. “You be safe okay, sweetie? I’ll see you on Monday.” She pressed a kiss to the same cheek Kiro had kissed only a few moments earlier and you felt anger bubble in your chest. Your last physical touch from him was wiped away in a quick moment by a drunk friend. Selfishly, you never wanted to wash that cheek again, to always remember the moment; but even if it wasn’t still there physically, you had all the memories you had made with him that night.

After watching for a moment that they actually got in a cab, you headed back inside to find your other two friends. You found them where you left them, on the dance floor and grinding against two masked men. They looked tired now, and you didn’t hesitate to grab their attention. “Hey, I’m tired, want to head back to my place and we can have a sleepover?”

Kiki and Willow said their goodbyes to the two men they were with and followed you outside. “Boss, we thought you left with that cute Batman!”

You bit your lip and glanced at the place on the sidewalk where no longer than 20 minutes ago you were kissing Kiro. “Yeah, but he had to go home. It was really sudden.” Feeling your eyes prick with tears, you dug your nails in your palm to distract yourself. “I didn’t even give him my name.”

“Oh hun,” Willow linked her arm through yours, closing the Uber app on her phone. The car coming to pick you up would be there any second. “I’m sure you’ll run into him again. Loveland City isn’t that big.”

Glancing wistfully in the direction that Kiro had headed after kissing your cheek, you sighed out before climbing in the back of the silver car that had pulled up in front of you. “I hope so,”

The rest of the ride back to your apartment was quiet and you and Willow had to drag a sleepy Kiki into the elevator. The rest of the building was asleep except for you guys, and as soon as you all had changed into comfy clothes, you collapsed on your small bed and fell asleep in a tangle of limbs.

Monday morning, you showed up at work, your spirits still low. Even though you had only spent a few hours with Kiro, no one had ever made you feel the way he did and you longed to feel his soft hands pushing hair out of your face once more.

“BOSS! You are NEVER going to believe who just called and asked to be on the show!” Kiki rushed into your office, eyes wide and chest heaving.

Sighing, you turned away from your computer. “Who?”

“Kiro! Or, well technically, his agent called. But Kiro wants to be on the show!” Your heartbeat sped up at the thought of Kiro walking into the filming studio and seeing you for the first time since your shared moment. “His agent said that he used to watch the show growing up and wants to show his love for it. Please Boss, we HAVE to schedule him on the show.”

“I’m sure I can change a few things around to fit him on. When is he available?” You opened your calendar and waited for Kiki to continue.

“Next week?” She sheepishly smiled. “I kinda already booked him. I’m sorry, I was just so excited!”

You rolled your eyes at Kiki and fought to keep a smile off your face. “Okay, I will figure out a plan for a show with Kiro on it. Now shoo, go do your work!”

Kiki squealed excitedly and exited your office and as soon as you were sure she was out of earshot, you let out a very similar squeal. You only needed to get through 7 days and you would see Kiro again.

The following Monday, you didn’t stop at the office before going to the filming studio, instead opting to spend some extra time on your hair and makeup. You still looked nothing like you did halloween night, but you felt a little more put together and that was important on a day with so many unknowns. How would he react when he saw you? Would he be happy, or would he play it cool and pretend like he had never met you before?

You were so caught up in your own fantasies of Kiro pulling you into his arms and kissing your senseless in front of all the cast and crew that you bumped into a solid chest, a soft ‘oof’ escaping their mouth.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You bent down to pick up your papers that scattered everywhere and the person bent down as well, helping you gather them up.

“No it was my fault, I was looking at this comic and-” he cut himself off as your eyes met his own. “Wait a second, Poison Ivy? You work for Miracle Finder?”

“Yeah um, I’m actually the owner of the company?” Despite daydreaming up millions of scenarios where you ran into Kiro again, you didn’t think you would have physically run into him.

“I had no clue. Um, how are you?” He handed you the rest of your paperwork and when his fingers grazed your own, your whole body was on fire. He had such an affect on you, one you couldn’t even begin to describe. “You never messaged me.”

“I wanted to, believe me.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea since we’re going to be working together. And besides, I knew I was going to see you here eventually.”

“I’m really happy to see you,” Kiro admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither,” you agreed, gesturing to an empty greenroom. Kiro went in first and you followed a few seconds later.

Kiro took your hands in his own and gazed steadily down at you, his blue eyes never wavering from your own. “I don’t have much to say, but I’ve never felt like this with anyone and I don’t even know your name. We only spent a few hours together but you made me feel more alive than performing on stage does. I want to get to know you, if you’d be willing to give me a chance.”

Reaching up to cup one of his cheeks in your hand, you stroked the soft skin and Kiro leaned into your touch. “I’d love that. I’d love to be able to see where this connection takes us. I feel like I’ve known you for years.” Kiro grinned and leaned closer to you, and you reached up and kissed him softly. “Green apple, again.”

His eyes widened and he looked panicked for a moment. “I’m sorry if you don't like it. I can start stealing sweets with a different flavor that has just been my favorite since I was a kid. I-”

You cut him off with another kiss. “No, it’s perfect. Very you.” Glancing at your watch you shooed him out of the room. “You were due in hair and makeup 5 minutes ago, but I’ll see you out while we’re filming.” Kiro went to leave but you grabbed his arm gently. “It’s MC, by the way. My name.” “MC,” he repeated it over and sent you one of the sweetest smiles you’ve seen from him yet. “Beautiful, just like you.”

Blushing, you pushed him in the hallway and waited for a few moments before checking to make sure the coast was clear and left, walking towards the filming crew. “Boss!” Kiki rushed up to you and you jumped at her voice. “Have you seen Kiro? He looks so cute today!” She paused for a second. “Come to think of it, he kinda looks like the guy you were with on Halloween. Ohmigosh! What if you kissed Kiro on Halloween, how crazy would that be?” You laughed to keep yourself from answering her. Kiki would freak out if she knew just how correct she was.

You were relieved when Willow called Kiki over to clarify a few things about shooting before it started. Kiro was already on scene, dressed in a tight black turtleneck with a red and black jacket over it. He looked good and you took that moment while he wasn’t paying attention to admire him, the way he stood so sure of himself, how his easygoing smile made everyone around him seem at ease.

Kiro caught your eye as you were looking him over and he grinned and winked at you before raising his hand in a wave. You blushed and waved back, his grin widening before turning back to the director.

“Did you find your Halloween mystery man?” Anna appeared at your elbow and you pushed your bangs back from your forehead. “I seem to remember some similarities between Kiro and that man, they look at you the same.”

“Yeah, I think I did.” You replied, not taking your eyes off the blond who was now talking to an animated Kiki. He looked a little nervous and you made your way up to them, gently squeezing Kiki’s shoulder. “Hey, I think someone in the film crew is looking for you, they need you to run an errand.”

Ignoring her protests, you turned Kiki in the other direction. “Maybe you’re the real superhero,” Kiro’s fingers brushed yours before pulling away. “Saving the superstar from crazed fangirls.”

“Nah, I’m not a superhero. Just someone who wants you all to herself.” You admitted and Kiro’s blush made your heart soar.

“Oh you do? So then, what do you say to having a little impromptu date after filming today. I have a secret base I like to go to, no one knows where it is, not even Savin.”

“I say, I’ll meet you outside afterwards.” You couldn’t keep the grin off your face and you were sure you looked ridiculous but you didn’t care. Kiro made you happy. “Filming’s gonna start any second,” you gestured to the camera crew finishing up positioning everything. “You’re gonna kill it, superstar.”

Moving to join Anna, Kiki, and Willow to watch the filming, Kiki started pestering you with questions about Kiro. “You looked so close to him that you could smell him. Boss, please please tell me what he smells like!”

Without thinking about it, you answered. “Green apples.” “Ask her what he tastes like.” Anna teased, nudging your side.

“BOSS! Did you lick Kiro?” Kiki grabbed your arm and Willow gently removed her hand from you. “Oh my god, did you bite him?”

“He’s obviously her Halloween mystery man, did you see how he looked at her?” Willow flipped her hair over her shoulder. “She kissed him.”

Flushing bright red, you lowered your voice to a whisper. “Yes, Kiro was the guy I met on Halloween, but please don’t make a big deal about it!” Kiki was speechless, her mouth was opening and closing like a fish, not sure of what to say. “And before you ask again, he also tastes like green apples.”

With that you walked off, going to sit in a greenroom to answer some emails and send Minor a list of things he needed to get done by the end of the week. Afterwards, your eyes felt heavy so you laid your head down on the couch and closed them, just for a few minutes.

You woke up to a gentle hand brushing hair from your face and whispering your name softly. “Wake up.”

Opening your eyes, you met clear sapphire ones and you immediately bolted up, heartbeat hammering in your chest. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep for so long. Did I keep you waiting?”

Kiro’s hand moved down to cup your neck, his warm hand comforting on your skin. “Filming just ended. Your friends let me know you were in here.”

Standing up and stretching, your shirt rose above your pants and you flushed as you caught Kiro eyeing the bare skin there. “I just need to check in with everyone real quick and then I’m good to go. Are you okay waiting for a few moments?”

“I’d wait for like, 9 days for you. I did it once, I can do it again.” Kiro winked at you and walked you out of the greenroom. As you checked in with the crew, everything was under control and about to be wrapped up for the day so you made your way over to your three friends.

“I’m heading out, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, heading out with Kiro!” Willow sang out his name and the other two laughed at your blush. “Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“I’m just glad that’s not Anna saying that,” you teased the older girl who snickered along with you.

Bidding your friends goodbye, you made your way to the doors, and Kiro was standing there waiting for you right where you had collided with him hours earlier. He held out his hand to you. “Ready to go?”

Glancing back once more at your friends, they gave your encouraging smiles and thumbs up and you looked at Kiro, meeting his eyes, before gripping his hand tighter than before. There was nothing you were more sure of in that moment than him. “Yeah, I am. Lead the way.”

[mhalachai]

advance snippet: Updating Wednesdays on Patreon (The Untamed)

So. Do I need to write an Untamed modern!AU with a college twist (Lan Xichen is a music professor in Canada) in which Wei Wuxian attempts to self-therapy himself by creating a graphic novel fantasy AU version of his life (aka the real story of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation) and Lan Xichen attempts to rebuild his life after a toxic relationship ended? I mean probably not but has that ever stopped me?  here’s the intro snippet we’ll see how things go.

(Title is tentatively Updating Wednesdays on Patreon because i don’t know what to call this thing)

~~

The first day of August finds Lan Xichen in a coffee shop, tinkering with the syllabus for his new music theory course, when his phone pings with a message.

> Lan Wangji: Brother.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying has asked me to inform you that he will be publishing the first collection of pages in his new graphic novel on Patreon this afternoon.

Lan Xichen smiles at Lan Wangji's tone. For all that his little brother is more verbose in electronic communication than verbal, he's always so exact.

> To Lan Wangji: Can't wait! What's it about?

The little cursor blinks for a while as Lan Wangji continues to type. Lan Xichen just hopes that his brother-in-law's creative enthusiasm isn't running up against Lan Wangji's sensibilities.

Finally, a reply appears.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying wants me to tell you that it is completely fictional.

This gives Lan Xichen pause. Why on earth would Wei Wuxian, or Lan Wangji himself for that matter, need to make that declaration?

> Lan Wangji: It is a high fantasy xianxia story.

Before Lan Xichen can ask why that is causing this odd message exchange, another notification pops up on his phone.

> Wei Wuxian: Lan Xichen! Lan Zhan types so slow! It's just a different art style I wanted to try out and it snowballed from there!

> Wei Wuxian: I know you follow me on Patreon so you're going to get the notification this afternoon so I wanted to warn you hahaha

> Wei Wuxian: All names and places are purely fictional. I don't really have a sword.

Another message arrives, with all the information Lan Xichen needs.

> Lan Wangji: This matters a great deal with Wei Ying.

Lan Xichen smiles at his brother's words. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have been together since their junior year of high school, through a great deal of personal difficulties on both sides, and are still as fiercely protective of each other as ever. He loves them both for it.

> To Lan Wangji: Thank you for the information. I'm sure it will be great.

> To Wei Wuxian: Can't wait to see it! Anything you do is always great.

No more messages arrive, so Lan Xichen goes back to considering how to change the quiz structure of his musical theory class to avoid a marking crisis with the evaluation of his ensemble class.

Finally, as Lan Wangji gathers up his papers to leave, one last message comes in on his phone.

> Lan Wangji: Thank you for your support. We all appreciate it.

Attached to the message is a photo taken of Lan Wangji's family, he and Wei Wuxian holding Lan Yuan between them. The toddler grins at the camera, his arms around Wei Wuxian's neck. Wei Wuxian's looks at the camera, dark circles under his eyes like he's working through the night again, while Lan Wangji only has eyes for his husband.

It's so wholesome and loving that a sliver of pain rakes through Lan Xichen's heart. He's happy for his brother. His brother deserves the world. Lan Wangji deserves being loved, and to love.

Not everyone gets that. Sometimes, that falls apart.

Sometimes, for some people, love is just an illusion.

Lan Xichen tucks his phone away and leaves the coffee shop.

~~

He gets home mid-afternoon, and spends a while stowing away the groceries he picked up on his walk. The neighbourhood has several Greek and Persian markets and he's able to buy most of what he needs on foot, saving the Chinese markets in Richmond for his weekly dim sum brunches with Lan Wangji's family when he can borrow the use of Lan Wangji's sensible and economical mini-van.

He doesn't drive any more, not since—

Lan Xichen stops and puts down the bag of avocados. His mind is a funny place, bringing up the oddest things at the most inconvenient of times.

He doesn't drive anymore. He doesn't need to, using the bus and the odd taxi to transport his instruments up to the university for performances. The public transit system is so much better.

Safer.

He goes back to putting away the vegetables, pulls out a cookbook (new, spine uncreased, bought for him by Lan Qiren for his birthday) and opens it at random. He's never had coconut curry salmon before, but he has all the ingredients.

Trying new things. He's supposed to be trying new things.

The recipes says it will only take half an hour to make, so he goes up to his office and turns on his computer to check his work email. The message fly fast and furious, some about the new department head, some about class enrollment, a few from students asking if they can get onto his waitlist. He replies to the most urgent, files the rest, then checks his personal email.

The notification from Wei Wuxian's Patreon is up, so Lan Xichen clicks it.

Then he sits back, frankly impressed. He's seen Wei Wuxian's comic style progress since the boy was drawing silly cartoons to entertain Lan Wangji in history class, but even he wasn't prepared for this.

The art is gorgeous. Stylized figures, intricate period costuming, rich backgrounds – it's truly a work of art.

Then he gets a better look the two characters' faces, and laughs out loud. It's Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, clear as day, with long hair and flowing robes. Wei Wuxian's even managed to capture that exasperated-yet-fond look Lan Wangji has whenever Wei Wuxian is being particularly loud.

The introduction is even better. "Join our hero Lan Wangji and dashing rogue Wei Wuxian as they battle deadly monsters and forge a path with demonic cultivation!"

Wei Wuxian hasn't even changed their names. True, he uses his mother's surname professionally, so Cangse Ying can't be easily tracked back, but still.

Lan Xichen wonders for a moment if Lan Wangji is okay with this, but then he notices that the project text is available in both English and in Chinese, with the Chinese written in Lan Wangji's style.

They worked on this together, then.

Trying not to think about why that makes his chest feel funny, Lan Xichen opens to the first page--

-- Which features a bruised and bloodied Wei Wuxian falling off a cliff while a horrified Lan Wangji screams after him.

Confused, Lan Xichen makes sure he hasn't accidentally read the last page first. No, this is the first. Still a little baffled, he clicks to the next page, sees the stylized banner that reads six years ago and relaxes. This is Wei Wuxian's style of using flashbacks to interrupt the narrative flow. Lan Xichen spent most of Lan Wangji's university years hearing his brother's despair for Wei Wuxian's artistic choices in essay form.

But enough about the past. Lan Xichen settles in to read the first chapter of the story, where Wei Wuxian and his siblings (Jiang Yanli drawn lovingly, Jiang Cheng with a bigger frown and more menacing eyebrows than Lan Xichen remembers) traveled to the Cloud Recesses (the sarcastic nickname Wei Wuxian gave to Lan Qiren's West Vancouver mansion) for cultivator lectures. Lan Xichen is there on the page, too, drawn taller and far more imposing than he is in real life.

The first encounter between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji is fantastical and improbable and, according to Lan Xichen's recollection, almost completely accurate. Wei Wuxian had mouthed off at Lan Wangji at the weekend orientation camp for their new arts high school, Lan Wangji glared the boy into submission, then later that night when Wei Wuxian tried to sneak back onto school grounds with alcohol, he and Lan Wangji had gotten into a fight. Verbal, instead of with swords, and without the supernatural murder victims, but Lan Xichen remembered everything else from Lan Wangji's indignant recitation on his return home.

He keeps reading, enjoying the art and the lyrical narration, and keeps enjoying it right up to the scene when Nie Huaisang appears on the page to offer Lan Qiren a present, Meng Yao standing right behind him.

Lan Xichen doesn't remember standing up, but here he is, two feet away from his computer, heart pounding. He hadn't—Why—

What was Meng Yao doing in a story about Wei Wuxian's high school years?

Taking a deep breath, Lan Xichen makes himself return to his desk. As far as he knew, he was the one who introduced Meng Yao to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, when the boys were in university and after he and Meng Yao started dating--

Lan Xichen can feel his heartbeat slow, as he tries to breathe. He needs to stop this foolishness over Meng Yao. They dated before living together for a while, that was all. They broke up. It happens to people all the time.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were in college for most of that time, anyway, living their lives. They barely knew Meng Yao, even if Wei Wuxian's sister married Meng Yao's half-brother. They couldn't know how badly Lan Xichen had messed up their relationship, how terrible he had been to live with. It was his fault that—

Stop.

Stop.

It's over. In the past. A story that has Meng Yao as a minor character isn't going to mess with Lan Xichen's head. He's not going to let it.

He exhales and makes himself look back at the screen.

Meng Yao only shows up a few more times. For some reason, he's the only character who isn't tagged with his own name. He's there handing over the present to Lan Qiren, standing in front of Nie Huaisang when the Wens arrive, then in two last panels in which he tells the on-screen Lan Xichen that he has to return to Nie Mingjue's side.

Lan Xichen's stomach sours. He and Nie Mingjue had been close, before Meng Yao came into Lan Xichen's life. After that, Lan Xichen hadn't had much time for anyone else. That was normal, Meng Yao always said. People in love only needed each other.

Lan Xichen picks up his phone, then puts it down. He can't ask Lan Wangji about this. It would be weird. Wei Wuxian must just be making artistic narrative choices.

The chapter ends soon after, with Wen Qing and Wen Ning welcomed grudgingly into Cloud Recesses. The next chapter is due up in two weeks, the page declares, and welcomes any comments or feedback. A few people are already posting, gushing over the art work and discussing the teaser from the opening page.

Wanting to be supportive, Lan Xichen writes a small review, complimenting the artistic style, the intricacies of the outfits, poses a query as to the different colour palettes between the first page (dark, red, menacing) and the flashback scenes in Cloud Recesses (light, airy, hopeful), then translates the comment into English and posts both versions up. If Lan Wangji is going though all the trouble of ensuring a bilingual experience, then he will too.

He should go start dinner, he really should, but some part of him is drawn back to the first panel in which Meng Yao appears. He's shorter than Lan Xichen remembers in life, the long hair and braids suiting his face.

It's been so long since Lan Xichen last saw Meng Yao. He's not sure what he's thinking. Is he wistful? Mournful? Sad?

He doesn't know. He never knows what he feels about Meng Yao, which was the problem. He's not normal about feelings. Even Lan Wangji, whose brain is a unique and complicated thing, looking for order and reason and patterns in an illogical and messy world, loves fiercely, feels passionately. Maybe he got all the love in the family, and Lan Xichen got stuck with the stunted and undergrown heart.

Stirring, he pages back to the first appearance of his on-screen twin. The Lan Xichen on the screen looks patient, kind, a smile hiding behind his eyes.

He hadn't realized this is how Wei Wuxian sees him.

He picks up his phone.

> To Wei Wuxian: What an incredible achievement! The art is amazing!

> To Wei Wuxian: Where is the story from? As it's a work of fiction and has nothing to do with your real life ;)

> Wei Wuxian: Oh hahahha the story is a collaboration of a bunch of ideas! I can't tell u more (sworn to secrecy by my collaborators) but so glad you like it!!!!!!

> To Lan Wangji: Did you do the writing? I love the dialogue.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Wuxian did most of the English. I made it better and did the translation.

> To Lan Wangji: Have you told uncle about this project?

> Lan Wangji: He prefers to speak of my composition achievements.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down and rubs his eyes. The old tension between Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji never goes away. It started in high school with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian, continued into university with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian as well as Lan Wangji's decision to attend a local university for musical studies instead of going to Julliard in Lan Xichen's footsteps, and outrage at the news that Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian to marry him before they even finished their undergraduate degrees.

The resulting years had been a long-standing cold war, with Lan Xichen trying to mediate in the middle. Even the arrival of Lan Yuan on the scene twenty months previous hadn't softened both sides into anything resembling ease.

If Lan Wangji doesn't want to tell their uncle that he and his husband are collaborating on a semi-biographical graphic novel, Lan Xichen isn't going to muddy the waters.

> To Lan Wangji: It sounds like you're enjoying the project.

> Lan Wangji: Working with Wei Ying on any project is enjoyable. I read that couples with young children should try to engage in a mutual hobby outside of parenting.

> To Lan Wangji: Very wise.

He wonders if he should ask about Meng Yao, types out a message to that effect, then deletes it.

> To Lan Wangji: I should start dinner – see you on the weekend for brunch?

>Lan Wangji: Yes.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down. The days are long in August and the sun still bright, but he's tired and he doesn't know why.

~~

anyway that’s where this whole disaster is going. new fandoms are fun. 

[lokidrabbles]

Keep On Believing (Loki x Reader)

Reader and Loki share a piece of their past with each other. A/N: I’ve had this stuck on my head for a while and I feel happy finally putting it down somewhere. Thank you all for the surge of followers and feedback on my stories! I’ve been using them to keep me focused on something enjoyable for me :) As always, Gender Neutral Reader! Warnings: None! Fluff n’ such!

In the oddest of spectacles, Loki was seated in your living room, leg crossed over the other, sorting through a pile of photos you had insisted he take a look at. For what he figured was another way for humans to bond, he begrudgingly agreed and was now flipping through a variety of Polaroids he best referred to as ‘photographic illusions.’ Within these, a peek at your childhood and youth caught his interest, curious to learn exactly where you had come from. He observed through the many photos which included birthdays, holiday dinners, vacations, beach days and many more.

With two cups of warm tea, you soon came back into the living room, plopping a seat next to him on the couch. You placed both cups on your small coffee table, leaning over to catch at what Loki was peering at. 

“Just so you know, those things in my teeth were there so they could straighten out.” You explained as he squinted at a photo of you, sometime in your elementary and braces years.

“Ah. I didn’t realize human dentures came out misaligned.” He said, flipping through a couple more.

“Only sometimes. What do you think though? Interesting to see how different I ended up looking.”

“From my introspection, I’d want to say that you were quite the attention seeking child. See, here.” He said, showing you a small photo of you with a long forgotten childhood cousin. “From the way your hand is laid on this other child’s chest, I’m suspecting you were shoving them aside to be the main subject matter.”

You snorted. “Very impressive. I was super egoistic when I was younger, but I’m glad that trait didn’t last long.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He sneered as you playfully shoved his shoulder. He continued to sort through and came upon another photo which piqued his interest.

“You mind elaborating as to why you are dressed like...a squash?”

“Pumpkin. Also because it was Halloween. I guess you can say that’s out bastardization of some Pagan traditions.”

“It doesn’t appear like you were having a good time here.” He said, pulling the photo closer to his face.

“Oh no. I hated that costume but my mother was insistent about taking a picture.”

Loki chuckled to himself. “This sour face is quite familiar however. I think you still have a tendency to pout like that when I am intentionally ignoring you.”

You furrowed your brows. “Intentionally?”

“Oops. Did I say that?”

Loki braced for another playful jab at his side once he saw that pout forming once more. You continued to ramble on about your distinct hate for this Halloween costume as Loki flipped through a couple of more brief snapshots of your childhood. This was a new experience for him, albeit a tad strange. The use of photographic illusions wasn’t present back in Asgard, and for the aesir, there really wasn’t much need to have a tangible piece of time like this. Although his memory doesn’t remember every single detail of his younger years, it was still much more vivid than any human’s, and that was impressive to say for someone who was over one thousand years old.

He couldn’t deny your eagerness with all of it however. He observed how excited you had become to share your history with him, and how each small piece of glistening paper had brought back a memory that had been long forgotten. A part of him envied your fondness of your own past, especially with anything having to do with your family. Indeed this was the most bizarre part for him. Aside from his childhood and unconditionally loving mother, things didn’t exactly pan out that well for him. Of course he still struggled with obtaining the full responsibility of his own actions, but this was a part of his history he wished to be entirely blacked out. He certainly wouldn’t show you these parts any time soon, as selfish as it was.

He focused back on your own past, looking over the young human who couldn’t have possibly fathomed the idea of building a connection with a man like him. You were cute as a child and he briefly imagined his own young self meeting you. He wondered if you both would have gotten along as well as you both did now. Maybe, in a different space and age.

“Would it be stupid of me to ask if Asgardians keep family photos as well?” You asked, poking him out of his trance.

“Only if that includes large frescoes of the royal family over heading the royal palace.” “That’s a bummer. I’ve always been curious to see little Loki.”

“Do you want to? It wouldn’t take much honestly.” He responded casually.

“Wait, what?” You asked, bewilderment in your face. “What do you mean?”

“You know I’m a sorcerer, correct? The art of casting illusions, specific ones at that, come almost second nature to me.” 

Your eyes widened at the possibility. “Are you telling me you could cast down, like a memory or something like that?”

“Err, I suppose. I can concoct something specific, but of course it wouldn’t be the exact memory.”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, inching at the edge of your seat. “I mean, if it’s cool with you?”

“You’re too excited about this.” He said, eyeing you from top to bottom. “But it will be fine. Close your eyes however, the effect will be more potent like that.”

An inescapable grin cast between your cheeks as you shut your eyes intensely. Loki stood up, tugging at your arm to rise with him, and then beginning to conjure his seidr between his fingers. The green glow rose from his palm and began to cover the entirely of your living room like a thick coat of paint. As it dripped down, your plain walls soon became marbled and golden, mimicking the royal halls back in Asgard. Loki focused on a target memory, involving one of the many times he would often study his magic in the high gardens of Asgard. He purposefully chose a moment when it was just himself, still wanting to avoid exposing you to a painful part of his past. But for now, he figured you’d be more than satisfied with a snapshot of his youth.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Your eyes popped open immediately, darting back and forth, from side to side. Your mouth fell agape at the scenery in front of you. Your living room, with all its tacky decor, was now long gone, and soon replaced with a scene out of a fairy tale. It was a large indoor garden, garnished with a myriad of flowers, hanging vines, large overlooking leaves and a large fountain smack in the middle, flowing with gentle streams of water. At a small garden bench in front of the fountain, sat a small dark haired boy, legs crossed, flipping through a large archaic book. His hair was sleeked back and he wore a dark green robe rimmed with a golden hem. His gaze fell upon his readings, and you certainly could not mistake those inhuman green eyes. 

Loki raised an eyebrow at your uncomfortable silence until he patted the top of your head. “You can breathe you know.”

“Loki, is that really you?” You responded incredulously.

“Obviously. This was a little hideout spot from Thor when he wouldn’t allow me to concentrate on my studies.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Again, it’s only from the details I’ve been able to draw back on. Knowing how my mother tended these gardens, I’m sure I am missing much more here.”

“It’s still incredible.” You said while gently forward into the illusion. “Oh, Loki. You were so adorable as a kid!”

"I’ll gladly take that compliment.” He said with a smirk. He felt satisfied with how in awe you appeared at his little scene. While it would never beat having the possibility of showing you the real Asgard, this was just as pleasing. There was still much more he wanted to share with you, the good parts. His inward self however urged him to be cautious with how much he showed you, affirming it would push you away from him one way or another. Despite it, his nature allowed him to dwell in the self-gratifying moment of having you mull over his illusion.

“What exactly are you reading?” You asked, referring to his book.

“Just deepening my understanding of conjuring objects through pocket dimensions. Stuff that would surely bore you to death.” 

“You got that right. You think that kid would have wanted to join me during Halloween?” You asked with another toothy grin.

“Only if you agreed to wear that ridiculous pumpkin outfit.”

“Then that will be a big no. Still, it’s incredible to believe this was probably hundreds of years before I was born.”

He nodded. “Did I ever imagine in a thousand years that I’d be stuck in Midgard with a foolish human? Definitely not.”

“Way to ruin the moment.”

He slowly waved his hand over the illusion, causing it to dissipate out of existence. The green glow tore holes through the enchanting scenery, burning all over until it reached the young Loki last. For a brief moment, the young Asgardian peered upwards, his eyes now instantly connected onto yours. You cheekily waved good bye to the young boy until he illusion completely came undone, and your plain living room was back in sight.

“That was amazing!” You said while clapping your hands in a keenly manner. “Can you cast anything else? Oh, what about when-”

Loki shoved a finger onto your lips, instantly shushing you. “Don’t be greedy. I’m not opted to show this just to anyone. Besides, it does tire me when I use my seidr in such a way.”

You nodded slowly and understandingly. “Ah.”

He was quick to catch your eagerness in your bright eyes soon fall over. “I’ll be sure you more at some other time. You have my word.”

You nodded rapidly this time. “Yes sir.”

He let out a deep breath, relieved at how easily you became content. “Very, well. I assuming you want to show me more of these ‘photos’.” He motioned over to the pile on your couch, taking a seat once more

“Only if you want to.” You said, joining him on the couch as well. “I didn’t realize how many I had.”

“What do you want, (Y/N)?”

“Oh! Let me just show you my cringe teenage years. I’ll give you permission to make fun of my style back then.”

“See, now those are the things I would be more than eager to take a gander at.”

You took a chunk of the pile and began to sort through various photos, determined to find something from those adolescent years. Loki wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as you began to point out a series of hair dyeing disasters. You looked ridiculous, but he continued to ground himself presently. Unbelievable, how you continued to be more than willing to share a part of your past with him (even the seemingly shameful moments). He began to process what type of scene or moment in time he’d capture in one of his illusions, making sure the next one would continue to encourage you to share yourself with him.

[shypotato-translations]

QTVW Chapter 26

Showbiz* Sexy Queen (XIII)

----

After Mei Mu Lan had finished the task at hand, it was time for the crew to start filming.

When she arrived at the set, she met Ling Yi Yao in the dressing room, whom she had not seen for a long time. Because she was in a hurry to solve Bai Jieying's matter these days, she did not have time to go back to her villa in Jiangnan Town to look for Ling Yi Yao, and when she saw her again this time, she was actually in a bit of a trance, and thinking of the demented acts she was going to do, she immediately bear-hugged her.

She said with delight,

“It's been a long time, I missed you, didn't you miss me? Ah, no wonder I always feel that something is missing these days, so it is not absorbing your breath, O, instantly feel bad ......”

Ling Yi Yao listened silently to her exaggerated expressions, yet this time, instead of just tossing her aside as she had done in the past, she allowed her to hug her and then said,

“Have you had enough hugs?”

Seeing that Mei Mu Lan was a little dazed, she took the initiative and pushed her away, saying,

“We're going to start shooting the first scene in a few minutes, so go to the dressing room now and get ready.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Mei Mu Lan looked at her back in confusion, she always felt that there was something wrong with Ling Yi Yao today, or had she been abused too much and become a M, she was not used to it when people were slightly nicer to her?!

Tremble……

She was busy shaking off this frightening thought and went to the dressing room and changed into her costume. By the time she put on a red costume and walked out, she saw that, at this moment, Ling Yi Yao had already started filming.

At this moment, she was sitting in a furnished room, sitting upright in front of a mirror, letting a lovely, round-looking maid, brush her makeup,

“That is Ling Yi Yao's hair, it's my hair, none of you should touch it.”

But her sanity stopped her and she thought to herself: It's over, demented people have become the norm, how can I be normal now?

The first shot of the first scene of the 《Love in a Fallen City》is of the Major's wife, brushing her makeup in the mirror.

At this moment, Ling Yi Yao, who has become the wife of the Major in the center, is wearing a fitted and exquisite Republican costume, the maids are helping her to pull up her hair, she is sitting motionlessly on a stool, her face is delicate and numb, her eyes are hollow, the whole person looks beautiful, but just like a delicate doll, from her, no semblance of life and vitality can be seen.

As the most popular film queen in China, Ling Yi Yao's acting skills, surely, go without saying.

She got into her stride well and performed the Major's wife beautifully, acting very well, and after her it was time to change scenes and it was time for Mei Mu Lan, as the opera singer, to take the stage.

Mei Mu Lan went to another room that was set up, then started to pick up her ink brush and trace her make-up in the mirror.

She originally had the memory of the original owner's own make-up for more than ten years, so she became very familiar with it and began to apply it to herself according to the make-up strokes of the Peking Opera.

In that moment, she thought of herself as that opera singer in the novel.

Both Mei Mu Lan and Ling Yi Yao's acting is superb and each scene is shot through with no jams at all.

So it was soon time for the second act of the day's filming, this time outdoors. The plot mentions that this is a grand birthday party, and as a warlord in the south-east, Xiao Shi Yan has three legitimate sons, the eldest, the second and the fourth, all born to his main wife.

This was a sign of respect for a lady in such a large family, and many of the ladies envied the lady of the Xiao Sheng Banquet because she was respected by her husband, who gave him three sons, and at the same time, her three sons, all of whom were competitive, had now entered the army and enjoyed high official positions.

But, in fact, in addition to his three sons, Xiao Shi Yan also had a dozen sons with seven beautiful concubines. Every year, when he returned from war, he would bring home a few beautiful concubines, which were then secretly disposed of by his main wife, if they did not look good, to maintain the balance of numbers in the house.

And the thing, to outsiders, is that this warlord's wife, with her tact and scheming, is a model for everyone.

And, this time, it was his eldest son's wife's birthday party.

The warlord Xiao Da Shao, the strongest and best looking, has inherited the trait of Xiao's father, that is, he is good at beauty and cannot walk away when he sees a beautiful woman.

Fortunately, this current lady of his was not of low status, so although he did not see eye to eye with her, the respect that should be given was still given.

So, on his wife's birthday, Young Master Xiao invited guests and opened a grand birthday party.

And it was at such a grand banquet that the Second Young Lady, one of the female leads of this story, first met one of the other female leads, the opera singer of the troupe.

For this shoot, Miss S. had the whim to replace the names of the characters in the novel with pseudonyms for the actors' names, because in the novel, there are basically only codenames like "Lady" and "Opera Singer", with the madam's name mentioned once and the opera singer's, from the beginning to the end, was never mentioned by name.

And so, Miss S, set the lady, named Ling Yao; and the opera singer, named Mei Lan.

At this birthday banquet held in the morning, Ling Yao sat beside the Eldest Young Lady and watched a woman in red on the stage, who was performing a play by Ying Ying, her singing voice was melodious, her body was dancing, her movements were inexpressibly beautiful and moving.

Ling Yao is a person who likes literature and arts, she had also heard this play, and heard it many times, but this was the first time she saw such a good singer, she couldn't help but look at it a few more times, and it was these few glances that made the First Young Lady see it, so she said,

“What is the reason why my sister is looking at this opera singer so much?”

Ling Yao and this young lady were not on good terms, and she did not know why this person was asking her such a question, but she still answered honestly,

“I've seen this play many times in Shu, but I've never seen it sung so well, it's really a rare person, sister.”

The First Young Lady smiled, a look flickered in her eyes, as if she had not expected her concern to be so, and she said again,

“This is the pillar of the Lin Lang troupe, who has just come over from the North for a few days, but her reputation is very strong, and it is said that she has had as many as five guests.”

When the other ladies heard what was said over here, their hearts had long been filled with discontent with this opera singer, whom they had actually known for a long time, as their own husbands had spent much less time resting at home these days.

They had thought that their husbands were busy with military affairs, but at one point they felt something was wrong and asked the other underlings, only to learn that they had all run off to this new opera singer's side.

The women were not angry, but their husbands were in the mood for it, so they could not persuade them directly, lest they hurt the relationship between them.

At this time, seeing that the Second Young Lady Xiao, who seldom spoke out, had spoken up, and that she had the highest origin among all the ladies, they all looked at each other for a few moments, intending to put the matter on this lady and let her take the blame.

So, these ladies changed their posture from today's idle talk and began to chatter and sing about this woman's evil deeds, their words were so unpleasantly tight that Ling Yao's brow furrowed as she listened to their words.

Seeing her like this, the young lady thought her words had worked and smiled at the maid beside her, saying,

“Go and summon the opera singer who has just stepped down.”

The tone, disdainful and malicious, was like ordering a dog around.

Ling Yao was not clear about these ladies' intentions at the moment. She had just frowned because their words were too unpleasant for her, a woman who had been educated as a traditional woman since childhood, to bear.

She watched in a daze as these ladies sang and sang, then called for the opera singer.

Ling Yao looked at the woman who had taken off her makeup, and in keeping with the posture of a woman of the family, she didn't look at her face in depth and carefully, but only stared at her body seriously, thinking that this woman had a really good figure, and that a casual stand here made the heart feel tingly.

She was dumbfounded, while the other ladies, who had intended to watch the show, were not so happy.

How come Ling Yao is still on the outside looking in when all the people are there and the audience is here?

The eldest young lady still knows a few things about this sister-in-law; to put it bluntly, she is sour and has a bad brain.

Seeing that there was no point in standing around like this, she instructed Mei Lan,

“Raise your head.”

Mei Lan's body trembled at the words, and she looked up softly, with a look of fear and dread in her eyes, and although that face was certainly attractive, with such an expression, even the greatest interest was gone.

She was about to wave her hand to signal the person to stand down when Ling Yao spoke up. The ladies' spirits were shaken and they thought: Here it comes, here it comes, the good show is about to start, so this Xiao Er Shao is not brain-damaged, but just rather slow to react now.

As soon as Ling Yao's words hit the ground, Mei Lan's body trembled and she carefully raised her head to look at her, mumbling her lips as she asked,

“Lady, you called me, what do you want.”

Seeing her tender face, Ling Yao couldn't help but ask,

“I wonder how old you are now?”

Mei Lan lowered her eyebrows and eyes and whispered,

“I am a young woman of sixteen years of age.”

Ah, sixteen years old, how young, to be so well practiced in opera at such a young age is considered talented.

With this in mind, the Lady took off the turquoise bracelet on her wrist and handed it to the maid at her side, her chin gesturing to her, and looked at Mei Lan.

Her maid had been by her side for many years and had grown up together, so naturally the relationship was not ordinary, and after all these years as master and servant, there was a certain tacit understanding.

When the maid saw this look on her face, she smiled and answered in the affirmative, walked down the steps and bestowed the jade bracelet on Mei Lan, saying with a smile on her face,

“Here, this is our lady's reward for you, take it.”

Mei Lan was puzzled, she was ready to be beaten, how could this lady not follow the usual rules, and gave her such a nice jade bracelet, it looked like it cost several thousand taels, enough to feed and drink for the rest of her life.

The other ladies, who had originally planned to watch a good show, almost fainted from anger at Ling Yao when they saw the situation.

The young lady's face stiffened as she said with a fake smile,

“What does this mean, sister?”

Ling Yao smiled gently and said,

“This opera singer is a good performer, the best I've ever seen. She is a talented girl, she is so young and has achieved so much, her future success will not be underestimated.”

The Eldest Lady: "......"

All the ladies: "......"

Mei Lan: "......"

Mei Lan stepped backwards and backed away with a mocking smile on her face, it was a scene that she had faced many times in the years since she had become famous, but this time, it came as a big surprise to her, a wicked grin on her lips.

She thought: This lady is really interesting, the wife of the second young master Xiao, the golden master who throws money around, they are similar as a couple, they are not stingy in mixing, It was so ...... irritating to watch, I wanted to take the warm expression on her face and break it to see how much more interesting it must be then.

"Cut," the director shouted, and the second act of the day was over. The crowd breathed a sigh of relief, as it was still very difficult to shoot in such a hot day, and when they saw the interval, they immediately retreated to the side, drinking water and fanning themselves.

Mei Mu Lan walked to the dressing room. Because of her friendship with Miss S, she was assigned a separate dressing room by the crew, but after considering the filming expenses, this dressing room, at the same time, was occupied by Ling Yi Yao, who is the most famous.

In a nutshell: they both share the same dressing room.

When Mei Mu Lan entered the room, Ling Yi Yao was wearing a white loincloth, tilting her head back and drinking mineral water.

Perhaps it was because of the haste with which she drank, the mellow droplets of water fell down her neck and into her clothes.

Thus, in the dressing room, in addition to a sound of drinking water, there was another sound of swallowing.

Ling Yi Yao gave Mei Mu Lan a lazy, seductive look with her eyes half-opened.

When she saw Mei Mu Lan's eyes glowing at her at this moment, she did not petrify herself as she had done before, but curled her lips into a light smile, and immediately after seeing this smile, as if she had received instructions, Mei Mu Lan pounced on her as soon as she could.

As a result, Ling Yiyao skillfully carried her in her hand and brought her down to stand by the corner.

Mei Mu Lan closed her eyes tightly, covered her chest with her hands and said,

“Come on, I knew this day would come sooner or later.”

As soon as she said that, she undid her top drawstring.

Ling Yi Yao: “……”

The pace stumbled, and it was true that she was still underestimated.

[vellikvr]

Won’t you make time to waste time (waste time with me) ? Part Two

[ Link to Part One ]

Yoongi requests a break to catch his breath. Sweat clings his skin to his clothes in an irritating way, Yoongi just wants to free himself out of it for a few minutes, maybe that would secure a stable breath for a change.

The backstage hall is where he kneels down and rests against the wall, taking long gulps of his water. He’s hot across his face, his heart is jumping out of his throat, making his chest light but tingling with nerves. He’s forgotten the lack of ambiguity his career has become.

It’s clear that Min Yoongi works night shifts at the nightclub as a popular dancer. He’s among the talk within his city. He’s an interesting topic that’s taken flight recently. Of course familiar faces would be seen after his customer status has increased in the weeks.

But why, of all people, is Hoseok still living in this city.

Yoongi licks his lips, realizing that his nerves are sending him to the bathroom. He jumps up and scurries out of the backstage into the public hallways. One turn of the hallway leads to the bathrooms.

Yoongi reaches that corner, but gets stopped by a tense figure.

Yoongi’s eyes are wide open, his breath shortens. He knows the person just by the atmosphere, except unlike usual, the person comes off distraught.

Yoongi’s eyes are wide open, his breath shortens. He knows the person just by the atmosphere, except unlike usual, the person comes off distraught.

Yoongi can’t look up at him, not here. If anywhere, it’d be away from here.

He stumbles, “sorry,” then shoves past the man. That fails when a hand latches on his wrist and pulls him. Yoongi dares to look up just once. It dawns on him that Hoseok is more concerned than disgusted.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok utters, his eyes probing at Yoongi’s stance. Yoongi can feel them like a pebble lodged under his feet.

Yoongi can’t confront him here, his soul will rot and decompose within himself if this were the way to mend ties.

Yoongi snakes his arm out of Hoseok's grasp and trudges toward the bathroom in a domineering gait, knowing that a second pair of feet are followed behind.

Seconds are all it takes for Yoongi to be shoved inside the bathroom and pushed against the wall.

Hoseok. His childhood friend of so many years. His first genuine, one-sided love, demands: “Don’t ignore me like I’m one of those men out there.”

Yoongi’s chest tightens, his heart beating faster than ever. His wrists are pinned against his sides, his whole body is shadowed by his old friend ahead. This is the worst thing to have happened.

Yoongi looks anywhere but at him.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok pleads, following the older’s eyes with desperation. “Where?”

Yoongi’s not prepared for Hoseok to raise his voice: “Where—the fuck!—have you been this past year!”

Yoongi feels a bit smaller, in a matter of seconds.

“You—you ignored all my calls!” Hoseok shouts, tightening the wrists. “You blocked me—blocked me everywhere! You have been nowhere! You haven’t been at your usual locations! I visited your parents and they don’t give a shit! I asked your friends…and they didn’t give a shit!”

Yoongi flattens his lips tightly. Yeah, he did do that.

“As your closest friend…I feel—I feel utterly offended! I feel so betrayed! I feel like I don’t even fucking know you anymore!” Hoseok keeps trying to meet the eyes of his long lost friend.

“Yoongi. You can’t just leave and expect everything to work your way! I’m so fucking pissed at you, I can’t even believe you’d do this to me…of all the people!”

Yoongi closes his eyes slowly, taking in what he deserves. It’s true, he left on no sour note, no good note, on no note at all. He just disappeared. The only people that know are his parents and a few friends, but he promised them to keep this a secret.

Now that he realizes all the actions made for the sake of keeping Hoseok out of his mess, he’s the worst friend in the world.

All because he loved him too much.

“I somehow had to find out you’ve been working at a nightclub,” Hoseok starts to release his hold of Yoongi wrists. “—dancing for these old men…”

Hoseok drops his hands low, clenching his fists tightly. “I never thought you’d relinquish your dignity for this shit.”

Yoongi owns it completely now, facing the problem that caused all of this, it’s what’s looking back at him in the mirror behind Hoseok.

“I thought I was the one you’d tell everything to. I thought I was the one that—would know things first,” Hoseok unchlenches his fist with a short exhale. “I really fucking thought that.”

Yoongi watches attentively, like he’s comprehending all that’s unfolding. He expected it to happen somehow, but this feels so early to process thoroughly. He would have rehearsed a way to communicate this at some cafe with Hoseok.

But here he is. In the bathroom of the nightclub, where he works, in a skimpy costume, confronting a friend who’s never witnessed this other side of him. He’s embarrassed. He’s unprepared, but he’s processing and contemplating on whether to speak his mind at this very moment.

“Can you at least fucking speak?” Hoseok asserts.

Yoongi contemplates. He wonders of the damage that his temptations could bring at this very moment. He’s usually reserved outside of this, in his personal life. But it’s like all of his pent up urges are clawing out of him.

“Say something, Yoongi.”

It has to be said.

Yoongi sighs, but still keeps his eyes away. “I have been…thinking about the time to meet you again…but I haven’t mustered up the courage.”

“Mustered up the courage for what.”

“To tell you that I’m gay,” Yoongi answers.

“Okay?” Hoseok takes a step back, giving Yoongi some space. “I assumed you had something similar to that.”

Yoongi nods, looking around the renovated bathroom. The mirrors are so clear, he can see the golden highlights among Hoseok’s coarse hair.

“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t have just said something.”

Yoongi bites his lip, knowing that the answer is on the tip of his tongue. There’s no way out of this one. He’s in it hard and he won’t get out unless he just goes for it.

“I know something’s on your mind when you look away from me,” Hoseok implies, leaning against the sink from the opposite wall of where Yoongi’s still feeling shackled against. He looks beautiful tonight, Yoongi hasn’t seen him so well dressed in so long.

“Please, Yoongi, you’ve changed so much, but I’ll willingly accept you as the Yoongi I've been friends with since forever. Just tell me and we can work things out.”

In Yoongi’s perephrial vision, he notices the anticipation in Hoseok eyes. It demands the truth, as if he already knows the truth.

Yoongi's bottom lip quivers in an anxious tremor. He’s unbelievably red across the face, but what’s more obvious is the loud beating inside his chest.

“Nothing has ever changed between us. I promise you. I want you back and in my life again. I'M willing to work things out with you just so we can mend things,” Hoseok says.

“I’ll make time for you, even if it’s wasting your time. In fact, I’ll waste time with you just to make things right.”

It’s a compromise. Extremely selfless, unlike Yoongi.

Yoongi’s selfish.

He’s selfish for what he wants. That has never changed. Even now. With his first love and him being alone in this bathroom.

Yoongi pushes forward, only taking seconds to build up that courage he’s been wanting since forever, and invades Hoseok’s space before connecting his lips onto Hoseok’s.

Hoseok’s hesitant, but returns only initially before pushing Yoongi away. It shocks Yoongi to feels a slight give of lips from the other. He’s blissed, a sense of shocking mutuality that sends butterflies down his stomach.

Hoseok clamps onto Yoongi’s shoulders and forces him back a slight distance. The kiss only lasts a second or two, but Yoongi is already feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

Hoseok’s eyes are blown wide, but holds Yoongi still by his shoulders. He’s panting with heightened tension. “What are you doing…”

The question comes off more of a rhetorical, so Yoongi pursues rather than answers right away.

And then the bathroom dissipates into a silence. The only sounds are from the two men building up a certain want they can’t quite figure out yet.

Noises come off like whispers. Yoongi’s right hand reaches forward. Hoseok looks down and watches the long hand glide across the expanse of collarbone then up his neck. He shudders under Yoongi’s simple touch, giving a sort of arousal inside Yoongi’s chest.

Yoongi curls along the side of his neck, watching the way a rosy blush creeps across Hoseok’s face. Hoseok’s aware of it, since he peers high up to avoid the other. Hoseok gulps, his adam’s apple prominent. Yoongi’s observant of it, because he can drown in the image of Hoseok reacting to his touch for hours.

Yoongi’s eyes risk it all to see the other’s eyes, and the other feels it since Hoseok immediately peeks back to meet them. They’re quiet, but equally daunting. Hoseok rakes down Yoongi’s outfit before looking back up. He still doesn’t express disgust or reluctance, but genuine need for something Yoongi wants to see to believe.

Yoongi leans in, inches away, before smirking, breaking the liquid silence of the room:

“Wasting time.”

…………

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 13 (Mafia AU)

Summary:  Rus fled after his argument with Blue, leaving his brother behind to try to pick up the pieces. Blue has already been forced to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea, what other deal might he have to make?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warning: Warnings for implications of prostitution.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

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Read Chapter 13 on AO3

or

Read it here!

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“Wait!” Blue cried. Too late, far too late, his little brother was already gone, stepped into one of those shortcuts of his that Blue usually appreciated, relieved that his brother could easily escape from any awful confrontations. He hadn’t used that particular skill against Blue since he’d been a frustrated child, chafing at the limits Blue put on his wandering in the Underground. He’d never needed to, until now, and Blue sank to sit again on the bathroom rug, burying his skull in his hands and struggling to breathe through the heavy, steamed air from the still running shower.

Stupid, Blue thought tiredly. Blaming Papy for his own idiocy, taking out the frustrations he didn’t dare let loose anywhere else on his undeserving little brother. Papy was so sweet and kind, still clinging to some of his naivety even in this unwelcoming Human world; how could Blue ever have expected him to handle someone like that Edge fellow? If Red made him deeply uncomfortable and fearful, then Edge was so much worse. Red at least he understood, he knew what that brother wanted of him, product and sex, in that order, and once he got it, Red would dismiss them out of hand, hopefully without leaving too many scars behind.

Edge held mysteries behind that polite demeanor of his and Blue rather wished either he was taller or Edge was a great deal shorter, because he would have liked a good look in the large skeleton’s eye lights, trying to read exactly what was hidden within them. If only he simply wanted sex from Papy, that at least would only break his brother’s heart. Blue was far more worried about the state of his soul.

And then he went and gave stabbing through it himself a good try, Blue thought glumly. The brief, bitter satisfaction of watching his words strike home was almost immediately swamped by horrified regret as his little brother’s expression crumpled, the first tears falling. Blue couldn’t know how much truth any of his accusations held, but even if they were, Papy didn’t deserve that. Not when Blue well knew how easy it was to make mistakes.

He really was just like their father, blaming others for his blunders—no.

No, it was this place. He needed to get them out of here, away from the Fells, any way that he could.

Blue dragged himself upright and to the shower, reaching inside to turn off the taps and barely wincing as steaming hot water soaked through his shirt. He felt brittle and exhausted, had since late this afternoon when the weight of cameras watching him grow golden flowers became too much to bear. An uncaring mechanical eye watching as he did the very thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t by getting involved with this sort of people. It brought back too many memories of living in the Underground and doing whatever it took to support him and his brother after their father…well…after he was gone.

He’d sworn he wouldn’t do such things again, made a promise to himself when they came to the surface and knowing he was breaking it left him nauseous, sickened by his own deceit. In the end, Blue filled most of the planting boxes in that room until it became too much, claustrophobia swarming over him, dimming his vision even as his gorge rose. He’d nearly staggered out the door and begged the guard outside to take him for some fresh air.

The Dog, Dogamy, he later learned, did so with some haste, perhaps worried that Blue was about to vomit on his very nice shoes. Instead of bringing him downstairs or to a handy window, Dogamy led him up to the rooftop and both the fresh air and the small garden was a blessing. Something to take his mind off of what he was doing in that closed off little room and when he’d finally brought Papy back upstairs with him, Blue could almost pretend this was why they were here, tending to an overgrown garden for some wealthy benefactor and soon they’d go back to their own little house and plants, back to their simpler life of flowers and hard work.

Then he’d looked up to see his brother and Edge kissing, and his meager daydream shattered.

Blue felt far too old for his years as he shuffled back out into the bedroom, stripping off his sopping shirt and tossing it into the discreet hamper next to the closet. The closet itself held plenty of clothes, far too many for what was only supposed to be a short stay here, and a brief pang of worry tightened in his chest as he wondered about their closed shop slowly losing their regular customers, his garden overgrown and going to seed without his care.

He shook it away. It didn’t matter, they’d managed before and they could do it again. Nothing mattered but keeping his brother safe.

Blue chose one of the shirts in his size at random, forced to yank it down and leaving the hanger at an awkward angle. He shrugged into it, buttoning it up as he made his way to the loveseat to sit and wait.

And wait. Hours passed and his brother did not return while the heavy weight of worry and regret nesting in Blue’s soul hatching into something closer to panic. He’d been angry and even cruel, but surely Papy wouldn’t hold a grudge for the entire night…would he? Either he was too angry or hurt to return, or he’d gotten himself into trouble and Blue couldn’t bear to wait any long to see which it was. He only hoped he wasn’t making another reckless decision based on his worries.

Opening the door revealed one of the seemingly endless supply of the Fell brothers’ Dog guards. This one had large, floppy ears and a mottled patch of white around one of their soulful brown eyes. They looked at Blue curiously as he stepped out and said, firmly, “I need to see Red.”

He didn’t know what orders they’d been given but the Dogs who wouldn’t take him look for his brother yesterday readily took him to Red, leading him down the corridor with none of their ridiculous backtracking and fuss of before. Not that it ever fooled Blue, he prided himself as being something of an expert at puzzles, but it wouldn’t do to tip his hand about that. Let the Fells think him lost in their silly little maze, they could gape in astonishment if ever he needed to make a quick escape.

The room he was led to was the same one he’d first seen here, Red’s office. Only this time, that enormous desk was covered in scattered papers and Red sitting behind it looked harried for once. His jacket was gone, tossed over the back of one of the sofas, his tie raggedly loosened, and there was a teacup at his elbow that he loudly slurped from, not the whisky glass Blue was growing accustomed to seeing in his hand, and honestly, why did these people insist on dressing up so much in their own home?

A glance back at his current guard confirmed that the Dog was wearing a fine suit of its own, honestly, everyone here dressed like they’d gotten a clearance deal on leftover costumes from the set of ‘Goodfellas’. That was one of Papy’s favorite movies, scrounged from the dump years ago and it made it to the surface with them for occasional re-watching. Perhaps that should have been a clue for Blue from there, a premonition of the sort of trouble his brother would be wont to find.

Then again, Blue was acutely aware that the clothes he was wearing weren’t his own. None of the clothing in that large closet was any he’d’ve chosen on his own, but even he could reluctantly admit they were flattering. This one was almost too cutesy for his tastes with its billowy sleeves and pale, delicate floral pattern, but he had no doubt he wore it well.

Not that it helped in the slightest. Red only barely glanced up from his paperwork, the first Blue had seen in this place aside from his own contract, reluctantly signed even as he wondered precisely what sort of devil he’d made a deal with.

“whatcha want now?” Red asked brusquely, shuffling a clumsy stack of papers to the side, “wanna whine about our deal again? gonna have to wait until morning, i got other things to handle aside from you.”

“My brother is missing,” Blue said, bluntly. That was enough to at least get Red to look at him, brow bones raised. “We argued and he…left,” Blue finished, lamely. He hardly wanted to explain to Red what they’d argued about, “and I’m worried about him, I’m sure he didn’t leave the building but—” Left unspoken was that surely Papy didn't need to leave the club to find trouble.

Red’s sharky teeth curved into a sly grin. He slouched back in his chair and it creaked ominously under his shifting weight, "lost him, already, huh. how many times you expect me to play fetch with your boy?"

"Woof!" Blue snapped, too harried to care about irritating this…this…but Red’s grin only widened, his deep crimson eye lights gleaming.

"heh, cute.” His gaze shifted to the Dog. “doggerel, g'wan and check downstairs, kid snuck down yesterday to hang out with the morning shift.” Red’s expression soured as he added, “may as well tell edge, if you shitstains haven’t gone behind my back and done it already. he’ll pitch a fit if ya don’t.”

It was on the tip of Blue’s tongue to protest telling Edge anything, but instead he only sputtered out, “Downstairs! He was down there yesterday with all those horrible people??”

A sudden coldness abruptly dropped over Red’s face like a storm cloud. “might wanna watch what ya say about our downstairs personnel. they work fuckin’ hard, don’t need the likes of you judgin’ ‘em.”

“What?” Blue said, aghast, and shook his head, “I don’t mean the ladies, they’re perfectly lovely, do you know how often I’ve delivered flowers here? I mean the patrons!” He shivered helplessly. “I don’t even like to think what that sort would do to my brother, please, you need to—”

“calm your tits, it ain’t like he snuck out on the stage to shake his ass.” But some of the cold tension in his expression eased. Red jerked his chin at the dog, who nodded and went back out. Which left the two of them alone, again, and that was not something that ever seemed to end well, in Blue’s opinion.

“this wasn’t part of our deal, ya know,” Red pointed out lazily. “already found your bro once on my dime, now we’re gettin’ greedy.” He stood and came from behind the desk, sitting instead on the leather love seat. His bulk took up more than his fair share, but then, he didn’t invite Blue to sit next to him. Rather, he spread his knees wide in silent, obscene invitation, smoothing a hand along the inner seam of his trousers with his rings glimmering against the dark material. “whatcha gonna give me for this, baby blue?”

Blue took a deep breath, calming the thin tremor that quivered through his soul. He’d known this was a possibility from the start, braced for it before he’d ever left that borrowed bedroom. He lifted his chin and said, stoutly, “Whatever it takes to keep my brother safe.”

He stepped forward boldly without another word, dropping to his knees on the plush carpet and reached up to scrabbled roughly at Red’s belt as he tried to work up a little moisture in his suddenly dry mouth before there were complaints about his sandpapery tongue. He could do this, Blue told himself, it was to help his brother, he could do this, do anything for Papy, anything at all, and he never needed to know what Blue had done, never, even as his own hypocrisy burned acrid on the back of his tongue.

But before he could even manage the shiny buckle, hands took a rough hold of his wrists, stopping him.

Startled, Blue looked up, “What--?”

Red never seemed to lose that smirk of his, but now it was more lopsided, startlingly reminiscent of Edge, and never had he and Red looked so much like brothers. “stand up, baby blue. keepin’ little bros safe is free of charge.”

“I pay my debts,” Blue said, low, even as he wondered wildly why he was arguing in favor his own defilement. Red only gave him a withering look, reaching inside his vest pocket for a fat cigar. He popped a wooden match alight with the sharpened tip of his thumb and the pungent smell of smoke filled the air.

“i don’t need to barter for sex, honey,” Red said in a cloudy exhale. “you wanna pay me back, you just make sure you stick to our deal.” He leaned in suddenly, cigar held well away in one hand as his mouth barely brushed the side of Blue’s skull in a low murmur, “when ya finally get on your knees for me, ya gonna be beggin’ me to be there.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Blue said unthinkingly. It earned him a startled laugh even as he quailed inwardly.

“oh, sweetheart, ya never let me down.” Red drew back and offered him that wider grin. “gonna try, fer sure, that’s a bone-ified promise.” He set a hand in the middle of Blue’s chest and gave him a light shove, sending him toppling on his backside as Red stood and went back to the desk. “now get out, the dogs’ll bring your bro back to ya when they find ‘im.”

Blue wobbled to his feet, already heading for the door. He hesitated there, uncertainly, he should be grateful for what he’d gotten, he should flee with all due haste and yet, he could help a soft, heartfelt, “Thank you.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, the door closing softly behind him as he fled. There wasn’t a Dog in sight, hopefully they were all searching for his brother, and Blue headed back to their room alone. He was halfway there when he realized, a niggling, absent thought in the back of his skull suddenly coming clear. The teacup he’d been drinking from; when Red leaned in, beneath the layer of cigar smoke, he’d smelled like golden flower tea. Why would he be drinking his own profits? It made no sense, or none that Blue could make of it.

That didn’t matter, not right now, he could worry at that sore spot later. For now, all he wanted was his brother back with him, as safe as circumstances allowed. He hoped fervently it wouldn’t take long.

~~*~~

tbc