#i brought a lamp over to take this picture so you could appreciate that the jacket is pinstripes

[publicdomainbooksdevotee]

Guess who finished knitting the tie and has a cosplay now.

Tie texture closeup:

I used TruBoo (a #3 weight bamboo rayon yarn) in lilac, following this pattern, at least in that I started at 14 stitches and decreased down to 10 the way it said. Size 3 US needles (3.25 mm). Scrap fabric stitched to the back of the neck bit to prevent stretching.

It's immensely floppy, which is very appropriate for this particular costume and probably for nothing else. It does not hold a tie dimple.

[hswriting]

The Moment I Knew - Part 2

[Image Alt ID: a four picture collage with a light brown background. The top left picture is a cup of coffee and a muffin in a brown takeout box. The top right picture is a couch with blankets on it in front of a fireplace. Around the fireplace is decorated with candles and a lamp. The bottom left picture is of Harry Styles in a headband with a green microphone. This picture shows his arm tattoos. The bottom right picture is of a leather bound notebook with a brown ribbon. On the cover of the book is a butterfly. End Alt ID]

- - -

Masterlist Series Part 1 Part 3

- - -

3.4k words

- - -

Millie is going over to Harry’s house to burn her ex’s stuff he left behind.

I went to bed feeling drained last night, and while I’m still upset, I feel a bit better knowing I have Harry in my corner.

We never talked much before but we aren’t strangers. I would stay at Kellen’s a lot before, but it had since fizzled down to only once a week or so. When Kellen would have friends over at his place, Harry was always one of the first ones to arrive. He always brought food or a gift. He isn’t one of the loud, rambunctious ones of the group. He would sometimes even come to hang out with Kellen alone, but wasn’t feeling up to games or anything too high energy. I remember him being upset one time and Kellen was comforting him. Harry said he didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t feel like doing anything. So he came over to hang out and write in his leather bound journal while Kellen and him talked. I didn’t listen in after that. I figured it was private. I went to his bedroom and played on his computer.

He definitely isn’t a stranger but I wish I knew more about him since he wants to help me through this. He said he’s been through this hurt before. Someone has taken his heart and shattered it like glass. Someone has betrayed him in the worst way. If he felt anything like I do, he has felt worthless and defeated. Not ever knowing how he will recover from it. Hopeless. And for that I am so sorry.

This is the worst kind of hurt.

I pull into the driveway of the address Harry sent me and the house is huge. It’s a beautiful two story, white brick house.

I grab the gift bag I brought him, as well as the duffle of Kellen’s stuff and the bag of snacks.

I ring the doorbell and hear footsteps. The door unlocks and opens to see Harry in some black sweat pants and a football T-shirt. His hair is not neatly done like normal, but is instead a mess of curls lying on his head.

“Millie, come in, it’s freezing out there.” He said stepping aside. I walk in and take off my heavy coat to reveal my comfort clothes. I didn’t have the energy to actually get dressed today. Just grey leggings and a plain black crop top.

“I’m sorry I look like a bum. I wasn’t really feeling it today.”

“You don’t look like a bum. You look good Millie.” He says, looking at my clothes. I remove my boots and set everything down in the living room where he has a movie on the tv and a small gift on the table.

“I brought you something too.” I tell him and hand him the bag. We unpack everything before we unwrap our small housewarming gifts. He pours out the wine I brought as I unwrap the small box on the table. It’s a small bottle of pink perfume. I spritz it and it smells wonderful. “Thank you Harry. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I like getting my friends gifts. And besides, you brought me one too.”

“It’s nothing. You’re helping through a really hard time. You deserve it.” I say as he unwraps his. He pulls out a new leather journal with a small H stamped on it, and a package of nice ink pens.

“I love this Millie. You have no idea.”

“I remember you used to come over and journal and write while talking to Kellen. I figured you could use a new one, if the other one is getting full. I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s wonderful Millie. I really appreciate it.” He says with a smile painted across his face. He can’t stop running his hands over the cover. He eventually does put it down to take a sip of the wine. He sits down and looks at the pile of pictures and clothes by the fireplace. I take a long sip of wine. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks. I nod.

“He betrayed me in the worst way. I hate him for it. Let it burn.” I say, raising my glass.

“Let it burn.” He says. I slowly pad over and pick up our first picture together. With a single tear running down my face, I toss it in the flames. It crackles and pops before dissolving to ash.

“Do you want to do one?” I ask him. He shakes his head.

“This is for you.” He says. I finish off my glass of wine and throw another picture in. Another tear rolls.

Over the next few minutes, the pictures are burned. Harry does help me cut up the clothes so they burn easier. I cry a lot, but Harry doesn’t mention it. I sit in front of the fire and watch it burn.

“What about that?” Harry says pointing. I look down at my locket and place my hand around it. “Did you want to keep it?” I open it in my hand and see our pictures. “You don’t have to throw it in if you don’t want to. I just remember the night before he gave it to you. I remember how much he said you would like it.”

“It is my favorite thing. Well, was.” I say. “But he was too. So fuck him.” I say snapping the chain off. I threw it in the fire with my eyes closed. I sit there hugging my knees. I don’t know how long I’m there but I hear Harry sit down beside me. He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t speak for a minute, but it’s nice to know he’s there.

“I had to burn my favorite journal. My ex, she hated that I had a journal that I didn’t want anyone to read. Not even her. She made me either read it or stick it in the fire. But it was so deeply personal. It had a lot of stuff in there. That’s my therapy. But I burned it. Not because it was even about her, but because I was going to share those things when I was ready. I wasn’t going to be forced. Turns out she was paranoid that I was writing about her cheating. She thought that’s what it was. Some sort of evidence collection.” He said sorrowfully.

“I’m really sorry. That’s so awful and mean. I couldn’t imagine.” I tell him.

“It’s okay. I know what was in there. I’m working on writing it out again, while still journaling about other things.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“I know. I’m not making excuses for her. But I really appreciate the journal you got me. It’s really good quality and has lots of pages. It was such an amazing and thoughtful gift. I didn’t even know you remembered me coming over.”

“I don’t know what you guys talked about. I tried to give you privacy by playing games in another room.” I tell him and he gives me a small smile.

“It was a really hard time of my life, and I’m glad I had Kellen to lean on. It sucks losing your best friend, but I’ll be okay. It’s not worth being friends with someone who thinks that’s okay.”

“You really didn’t have to do that for me Harry.”

“I know, but it was such a shitty thing to do. Having been in your position before I knew you probably needed someone after what feels like your whole world falling apart. I know you have Jason’s girlfriend Rachel, but we both know how she is. No offense.”

“None taken. She is great. She can be hard to talk to about stuff like this though. You should have seen us at prom. My girlfriend dumped me the night before and I was such a mess. Rachel was worried about how I was making her look instead of my feelings. She only cares at some surface level. Never deeply.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Didn’t we go to the same school?”

“She wasn’t out yet, and I was only out as bi to Rachel. We were going to come out by dancing together at prom. But she called me the night before and said she had to break it off with me. Her parents found out. She had to take care of that, and I understand. She had a shitty home life. It is what it is. 18 seems so distant to me now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. She’s happy now. We ran into each other at the store the other day. She’s married to a really wonderful woman. Her parents finally came around.”

“Well, that’s good. Not everyone has that kind of luck.” He says. He takes a look at his watch. I see it’s close to 9.

“I’m sorry if I’ve stayed over too long. It’s just nice to have a friend.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have to work until late tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. He nods.

“It’s no problem. But you have had a couple of glasses of wine. I know you’re not drunk, but I don’t know how safe you feel to drive.”

“It’s probably best that I don’t. I can walk back. I don’t live super far.

“Millie you’ll freeze to death out there. Let me take you. I’ve only had one glass. I can pick you up tomorrow to come and get your car before I go to work.” He says and I take a minute to think. I nod my head. I put my things in my purse and tell Harry he can keep the wine. I have more at home. I put my coat and boots back on. He walks me to the car and opens my door for me. “Do you have anything specific you want to listen to?”

“Whatever you want to listen to is okay with me.” I say and he types something in his phone.

“This band is my favorite of all time.”

“Good to know.” I tell him with a small smile and he gives me a chuckle in return. It’s a short ride, but he opens my door for me again and helps me to the door. “I really appreciate what you’ve done for me Harry. You’re a good friend. I hope we can hang out again.”

“Me too. Thank you again for the journal Millie.”

“It’s no problem. Text me when you make it back home?”

“Of course. Have a good night.” He says. He waits for me to get inside and shut the door and then gets back in his car. He drives away. I take off my coat and boots and climb straight into bed. I put on a movie and get comfortable. I see Harry text me while choosing a movie that he made it home. And with that, I fall asleep.

- - -

I wake up to a knock on my door. I get up out of bed and quickly try to make my hair look decent. I’m still in the same clothes as yesterday. I run to the door and open it to see Harry in a big, black, winter coat. He is holding two coffees in his hand. I invite him in.

“I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so I guessed on the sugar and cream. You’ll have to let me know how I did.” He said. “Also, good morning.”

“Good morning.” I say, still rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“So tired.” I tell him before I take a sip of the coffee. “Also, this is perfect.” I compliment.

“Good. I didn’t know if you were awake yet so I can come back if you want to get your car after you eat or what you want to do.”

“Have you eaten? I don’t really feel like cooking but we could go somewhere if you want?” I suggest.

“Sounds good to me.” He says. I go back to my room to get dressed, taking the precious coffee with me.

When I come out in just some jeans and a sweater I see Harry look me up and down.

“Doesn’t look okay? I just threw it together.”

“You look good Millie.” He says.

“Are you sure? This is an old sweater.”

“I’m sure.” He says with a smile. I tie my hair up with a scrunchie and put on my ear muffs and coat. Harry opens the door and helps me outside. He makes sure I don’t slip on the ice as we make our way to his car. He opens the door again for me. He climbs in and we are off.

“What time do you have to be at work?” I ask him.

“Noon.”

“Where do you work again?”

“I work for the animal shelter in town, but on weekends when I’m off work I’m do shows at some of the local bars and stuff.”

“Shows?”

“I write music.” He says.

“That’s so cool! I didn’t know you did that.”

“I wish I could do that full time but the money isn’t there.”

“Maybe one day it will be though.” I tell him.

“Yeah. I hope. I love writing music and getting to perform. I have a YouTube channel too. Just trying to get myself out there.”

“You got plans to travel around the world one day with your music?”

“That would be the dream.” He says as we pull into the breakfast place he chose. I beat him to opening my door and we laugh. He grabs our table for us and the waitress brings some menus. He orders some banana pancakes and I get strawberry cream filled crepes.

“Got a bit of a sweet tooth?” He asks with a smile.

“Maybe.” I joke with him.

“Now that you’re more awake, how are you?”

“I’m doing okay. I still am hurting about it, but I’m okay considering.”

“Has he tried to message you at all?”

“I blocked him that night. So I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh. Good. Probably for the best.”

“Has he been bothering you and the rest of the group?” I ask and he hesitates. “What?”

“He called me after I got home from dropping you off last night.” He finally says.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted me to get ahold of you. He wants to talk to you. Apologize. Try and fix things. He said he wasn’t the nicest person on the phone with you.” He told me and the ache in my chest that has shrunk a bit has grown back and is even bigger now.

“Yeah. He called me crazy. He blamed me for everything. I’m sorry he called you.”

“I’m sorry he said those things to you. I told him that if you wanted to speak to him to hear him out, you would, but it isn’t my job to force you to talk to him.”

“I don’t want him to apologize because even if he does, there is no fixing what he’s done. He made me feel horrible. I still feel horrible in that way. Like I wasn’t good enough for him, so I’m probably not good enough for anyone. I did my best and it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.” I told Harry and he looked sad. “I’m sorry if I’m ruining your morning.”

“You could never ruin my morning. And he’s a dick for making you feel that way.” He says as he rests his hand on my hand in the table. “You are enough. You are good enough. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Thanks Harry.” I tell him. I glance over to our hands touching in the table. He takes it away when he notices me looking.

“I’m sorry if that was weird. I didn’t mean it to come off like that. I’m not that kind of person who-“

“It’s okay. I didn’t think it was weird. You’re just being supportive.” I tell him. It was a surprise, but it wasn’t weird. It’s was actually kind of nice. After feeling like crap the past few days any kind of touch is nice. A hug would be even better. A hug so tight that it would push the broken pieces of me back into place.

“Still, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of your situation.”

“I didn’t think that. It was actually really nice.” I tell him and he doesn’t say anything in return. He just looks at me. He reaches down into his bag and pulls out another gift. “Harry.”

“I’m not trying to spoil you.” He says. “I like to give gifts. But I know it can make some people uncomfortable. If it does please tell me, but I thought you could use one of these too.” He says. He passes me a box. I open it to find a journal with my name printed on the front. I open it up and see a note inside.

Millie,

I hope you are able to confide in this book the deepest parts of yourself that you can’t tell anyone else. Everyone deserves that outlet. But most of all I hope that when you spill those deepest parts of yourself, you have someone, someday that you can trust enough to tell, and they love you anyways.

From H.

I feel myself tear up at the sweet words on the page. It reminds me that this hurt is temporary. I will be loved again. I will love again. This one little note helps the ache that I’ve carried for days lighten so much, that’s it’s hardly even noticeable in this moment.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. Thank you Harry. But we are gonna have to slow down on the gifts. My wallet can’t keep up.”

“I don’t expect anything in return.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Okay. I’ll slow down, but do you like the journal?”

“I love it.” I tell him.

“Do you want to stay here and write? Or are you ready to go get your car and go home?”

“I think I’ll get my car. I really do appreciate this Harry.”

“It’s no problem.” He says. He pays the bill and I tell him that wasn’t necessary. He says it’s fine and walks me back to the car. He makes sure to beat me to my door so he can open it.

We take our time to get back to his house, just listening to music on the way there and talking about little things. Little details that help us know each other better. He doesn’t like mustard or skateboarding. He wants to get more tattoos. Music is his whole life.

I feel a bit sad when we do arrive at my car and I have to go, but he says we can hangout whenever, just to text and see when he’s free. I climb in my car and drive away, looking for music to play.

I find his YouTube channel and start listening to his songs. So deeply personal and so heartfelt. I can tell he puts his soul into his music. I find myself sitting in my car even when I’ve arrived back home. I do eventually have to get out because it’s freezing outside. But he has such a beautiful voice. He sounds like a professional. I can’t seem to turn his music off.

When I get settled inside, music still playing, I sit down at my dining room table and open the journal. I find a pen and go to the second page.

I’ve never been one to write. But Harry is right. There are some things so deep and personal that you can’t tell anyone else. Not until you know it’s safe. Harry has been in my life a little over a year now, but we haven’t really talked until this week. Not only is he the only person I really can talk to, he is the safest person I’ve ever met. I don’t have to fake anything. He is so honest. And his music speaks to my heart in a language I’ve never heard before but I understand. And it’s heartbreak. I’ve been hurt before, but not in the way Kellen has hurt me. Bur thought it all, I know I’ll be okay.

I continue to write when I get a notification on my phone.

New music from Harry Styles: Always Been You Somehow

I click on it and a video starts to play. It must have been recorded a few days ago, because his outfit is different.

- - -

Masterlist Series Part 1 Part 3

[inventors-fair]

As Seen on TV: Cross Over, Design Through Runners Up

~

Our runners up this week are @brookeuwo, @misterstingyjack, and @xenobladexfan!

@brookeuwo — Gavilar Kholin, A Biography from The Stormlight Archives

Read Deeper is immediately a fantastic addition to the mechanics of Sagas, so I want to zero in on it for a second. The main benefit of Sagas is the largely automatic nature of their effects. You pay the cost once and—short of any additional chapter-specific costs like The Hunstman's Redemption—it does its thing for no additional investment. Asking for mana midways through opens a lot of doors, not least because the predictable nature of Sagas means that it's very easy to plan around in advance. It's a bit of a commitment, though, and investing in the Read Deeper cost and finding that you don't have enough mana left for your other plays, or vice versa, is pretty heartbreaking. It's the good kind, though. Also, if my understanding of what's being suggested by the formatting is correct, the Read Ahead can be placed on any of the chapters in a design. Perhaps even multiple? I like it. Admittedly I'm not entirely sure how well it represents the property of origin, but this is a well-made enough card that I'm fully willing to trust you know what you're doing.

@misterstingyjack — Jinx, Chaotic Instigator from League of Legends

Lamp oil! Rope! Bombs! Er...well, we've really only got that last one, but we've got a lot of them. Bomb counters are extremely interesting to me for one big reason: the word "tapped." Because they obviously change how you interact with the game (namely what exactly you're aiming your removal at), but putting the impetus on the opponent as well does a lot towards making the mechanic feel impactful for both sides. I also appreciate the built-in rip cord of a single detonation defusing everything else unless you hit them with a board wipe. Jinx herself is very strong, although the mandatory random discard is definitely enough to give you pause for thought. That said, I do worry that she's capable of piling the explosives a bit too high, too fast. Shoving all the bombs on one hapless permanent is essentially a Pacifism, and even though your opponent can simply leave it off to the side, a single well-placed removal spell is suddenly capable of shaving off huge chunks of their life. A "do this only once each turn" could go a long way.

@xenobladexfan — Trove Discovery from Xenoblade Chronicles X

Just getting the formatting gripes out of the way immediately: I'm going to assume that Segment Recon isn't intended to be an ability word given the precedent of Cases, so it's fine being unitalicized and you could probably also have recon be lowercase. That said, you should be using an em dash here, as colons are largely reserved for denoting costs. Okay, with that out of the way: this is really cool! I brought them up briefly, but this does really feel to me like a divergent take on Cases, trading an easier condition for the need to fulfill it turn after turn. I liked Cases, so naturally I'm going to like this too. I do think this is a bit on the unexciting side as a first foot forward for the mechanic, although a green common that cares about Treasures does actually say a lot about the environment of the set it's in. Still, there's more than enough here to imagine others of its kind. Although—with the usual disclaimer that I don't know enough about the source to be fully confident saying this—"Segment" feels like a bit of an awkward name for the card type. "Recon" is right on the money, but...I dunno, I'm struggling to picture what exactly the thing being depicted on the card is "segment" of. Perhaps something more like "node" to play them up as geographical features? Still, strong start.

~

And that's a wrap! Universes Beyond contests are always simultaneously the most fun and the most exhausting to run, but I've got a bit more left in me. If you're looking for commentary on your entry, swing by our discord for the rest of the day and I'll be happy to give my two cents. —@spooky-bard

[apollafire]

Chapter One

Summary; Dr. Kate Harrison has her first day as a member of staff at Columbia. The work place she was provided with is less than stellar but the neighbors aren't so bad.

Warnings; swearing, Dean Yeager's an asshole but not present, Venkman being Venkman

Final Word Count; 1071

Columbia University 1980

“My baby sister, a doctor! And a professor! Ugh I can’t believe it.” The click of a camera shutter went off several more times, “Hold still for God sakes, I have to get one for Aunt Rose.” 

“First of all, I’m not a professor. Yet.” Kate Harrison sighed deeply, “I’m a glorified lab assistant, and I will be until Dr. McNulty either finally decides to retire or ends up dying. Damn tenure.” She muttered looking down at her shoes, “Look, Irene, I really do appreciate the ride but if I knew you had planned on taking enough pictures to fill up a magazine I wouldn’t have accepted.”

“Oh so you could’ve sat on the subway with no one to talk to and get your fancy white coat all dirty? Not on my watch.” A few more camera clicks.

“Irene, you’re going to make me late. I have to finish setting up my office.” The woman turned away to start heading towards the front door of the building.

“Okay, okay. Just remember, dinner this Saturday at mine and John’s. I know you have nothing going on so you better be there.”

“No promises.”

The basement. Dean Yeager stuck her in the basement after promising her office would be right next door to Dr. McNulty for convenience for herself and students alike. There weren’t even any damn windows and grow lamps for her plants definitely were not provided like agreed upon at the end of last semester.

“That motherfucker.” She muttered as she pushed the door open and took in her new domain, at least all her boxes seemingly made it down here unscathed. After procuring a blank sheet of notebook paper and a black marker, she wrote DR. KATHERINE HARRISON - BIOCHEMISTRY & BOTANY in big capital letters. She taped that paper to the door and shut it behind her as she got to work unpacking, figuring it was highly unlikely she was to ever actually get her name permanently painted on the frosted glass. After getting her music to a level she liked and could block out the world for a while, she got started with the desk and the metal shelves behind it. 

Unbeknownst to her, the sudden burst of music from the formerly empty room interrupted some “very important work” in the Paranormal Studies laboratory next door with which she shared a wall.

“The damn janitor must’ve brought a radio down for his smoke break.” Peter Venkman grumbled from under a magazine as he laid across an old beaten down couch, “Ray go kick him out again, will ya? I’m missing out on prime sleep time over here.” 

Ray looked up from the book he was reading with a furrowed brow, looking from where Peter lazed over to Egon to see if he could force him to go do it this time. But the man was so deep into whatever mold sample he was looking at through the microscope that it would be a while before he came up for air. He sighed deeply and rolled his chair back a few feet before getting up and making his way out to the hallway. The less muffled sound of Ozzy Osbourne’s Mr. Crowley met his ears as he walked to the next door over, raising his fist to knock loudly. He stopped as he read the paper on the door that was not there when him and the guys got in that morning. Tilting his head in slight confusion, he reached out and gently just pushed the door open slowly. 

“You know, Aleister Crowley was actually a very interesting man.” He called out after a moment of observation, seemingly startling the woman as she caught a book that had begun to fall from her hands.

“I do know, actually.” Kate spoke after regaining her composure, gesturing to the shelf that now housed all three volumes of the Collected Works of Aleister Crowley as she reached to the radio to turn it off, “I’m not a fan, but my grandparents may have been Thelemians back in the day. Real hush hush about it though.” She walked over to the stranger standing in the doorway, “I’m Kate Harrison. Sorry for the noise, I didn’t realize anyone else was banished to the basement.”

“Really? Oh wow that’s fascinating. I’m Dr. Ray Stantz.” They shared a friendly handshake and continued to speak, “My colleagues and I work next door in the Paranormal Studies lab. We thought you were Paul the janitor, he’s usually in here on his smoke breaks.”

“That explains the ash and butts everywhere, for a janitor he doesn’t really clean up after himself.” She looked down at the floor and kicked a few of the said cigarette butts aside, “Paranormal Studies you say? Sounds like a secret almost.” 

“Nope, we are fully funded by the board.” Ray put his hands on his hips proudly, “You should come by and check it out! Maybe I can convince the guys to come and help you unpack so you’re stuck in here all day.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Lead the way Dr. Stantz.” She said with a smile before following the man down the hallway.

“Hey guys!” Ray grinned as he opened the door and stepped back into the lab, letting Kate come in behind him, “We have a new neighbor.” No movement or acknowledgement from either man made the woman look at Ray skeptically.

“Wow Ray, didn’t realize your colleagues were just mannequins that you positioned around the room.” She said playfully. Boom, that got their attention. The man on the couch shot up with such a speed he almost fell to the floor as he made his way over, hand outstretched and what he probably thought was an award winning smile stretched across his face.

“Pete Venkman, pleasure to meet you.” He said, shaking her hand, “Egon, get over here, Ray actually brought home a woman to meet us for once.”

“You lay it on pretty thick, don’tcha Dr. Venkman.” She responded with a small laugh. Her gaze fell to the man standing up from looking into a microscope, watching him pick up a pair of glasses and slip them on before turning in her direction.

“I’m Dr. Egon Spengler.” Just with that sentence, Kate could listen to him talk all day, “It’s a pleasure, like Venkman said.”

“Dr. Kate Harrison, and the pleasure’s all mine.” She smiled brightly.

[babygirldabi]

Runaway Part 4

y’all I wrote like twenty one pages of this today, so CW: probably haven’t edited as well as i would’ve liked to, MDNI, smut, 18+ themes, semi-public sex, creampie, lots of cussing, some slapping and shoving, drinking, mentions of abuse, derogatory terms used towards women,  Dabi is an asshole, like a huge one, but he makes up for it, I think that’s it. DEFINITELY doing a Part 5 and maybe even a part 6 because I have so many thoughts. 

Likes and reblogs always appreciated <3

Tags: @prettylittlebunnys, @kierewrites

It’s been a full week. 

Since Shigaraki informed you that you were in, things have been drastically different. For one, you have your own room now. Twice and Compress spent a day clearing out the spare room previously used for storage, and Toga disappeared for hours, mysteriously showing up at the end of the day, arms loaded with new clothes. When you’d asked how you could repay her, she’d just winked. “No need, I didn’t pay for these in the first place,” she’d giggled. 

 Your room is on the first floor, across from the bar and Dabi’s room. You and Toga had spent your first full evening in your new room, talking and decorating the sparse space with a few items Toga had brought from her own room. A lamp, a small bedside table, a couple posters, a long, thin mirror, a handful of glow in the dark stars from a set that she’d stolen a while back. Spinner showed up with an old, but comfortable enough, bed frame and mattress. It’s a single, and creaky, but it’s your own, and you’re very grateful. 

For the first time since high school, you have your own space. No angry husband, no roommates, just yourself. Despite moving into a space full of Villains, you are sleeping better than you have in years. 

 During the day, you assist with whatever is needed. You’ve not been on another mission since, but Toga explains that’s mainly due to the League having a period of minor inactivity, waiting to hear from the Doctor on what comes next. Toga has brought you to the grocery store with her a few times, explaining that she is the one the League has appointed to ordinary tasks, presumably because she looks the most “normal” compared to everyone else in the League. Either way, each time you go, both of you wear inconspicuous clothing, hats hanging low over your eyes, face masks stretched over the lower half of your faces. And each time, Dabi trails behind you for extra security,  saying nothing, a protective shadow. 

Meals are mainly eaten together in the main room; the League sprawled out across the bar, the couch, in a couple of beaten chairs. It’s never anything fancy; ramen, rice, some bread, but you’re fed and content. Spending time with the League, getting to know everyone on a more connected level, seeing personalities come out more, is much more fulfilling than a strained five star meal with your ex husband at a fancy restaurant, with paparazzi taking your pictures through the windows. 

Everything is easier now. Everything is simpler. You decide that, had you known about the League prior to this, in depth, you would’ve run away from the Hero life years ago. 

 In the week that has passed, Dabi has mostly left you alone. After your second hookup, he has gone back to treating you as the new hire, albeit a little kinder. He insists on shadowing you and Toga on grocery store runs, checks to make sure you’ve eaten dinner before he goes to bed, occasionally invites you to have a drink with the others and himself at the bar, but he keeps his hands to himself. He’s not entirely comfortable with how much he’s been thinking about you, how often he feels the need to check in on you. This is starting to feel like more than just fucking the new hire and something akin to having feelings, which is fucking goddamn awful. He’s not that guy. He can’t be that guy. 

 One night recently, stepping out of his room to have a drink at the bar, the sound of your laughter stopped him in his tracks. It was you and Toga, in your room with the door cracked, doing God knows what- probably Toga showing you some stupid tiktok video- but you were both laughing hysterically. Once again, the sound of your laughter made him feel so light he was disgusted with himself. He’d quickly downed two glasses of whiskey before retiring to his room for the night, getting right into bed so he wouldn’t feel tempted to check in, see what was so funny that you laughed like that. 

 This isn’t like him. He doesn’t like it. 

The week has been a wonderful epiphany for you.

 It has been an internal struggle for him. 

On your eighth day of being part of the League, Dabi knocks on your door, jerking you awake. You groan and resist, pulling your pillow over your head, even as the door swings open. 

“Good mornin’,” Dabi drawls, smirking as you peek out from the pillow to glare at him. 

“Is it?” You grumble, giving up now that it’s evident that he won’t leave. You pull the pillow off your face and force yourself to sit up, swiping your hair out of your eyes. “What time is it?” 

 “Eleven thirty.”

“Shut up, it is not.” You scramble out of bed and brush past him to check the clock hanging over the bar. Sure enough, it’s nearly noon. You turn back to him in amazement. “I’ve never slept in this late.”

“Maybe if you weren’t up all night having girl time with Toga,” Dabi smirks, strolling across the room to you, hands in pockets. “I just thought that maybe you’d be interested in hearing what our next mission is.”

You perk up immediately, plopping down on the couch. “Tell me.”

Dabi explains the plan- the Doctor needs the League to go to an underground Villain club, in search of a particular Villain. 

 “His common name is Thanatos. His real name is-”

“-Buki Shino,” you interrupt, nodding as you think back. “I know that name. I think he was high on the watch list. We never spotted him, though…Sorry,” you add quickly, noticing that Dabi looks perturbed at your interruption. “Why do we need him?”

Dabi glowers at you resentfully. “I was getting to that.”

You make a great show of shutting your mouth and looking at him expectantly. He hides a smile and continues. 

“Thanatos has access to weapons-and followers with Quirks-that we can’t even begin to fathom.  He’s been on our watch list, too. If we can get him to work with the League, we’d be practically untouchable to the Hero Commission.” His eyes gleam at the prospect. “We could completely destroy it.”

“Well,” you say dryly, “as someone that the Hero Commission has recently chewed up, digested, and shit out, I can’t say I’m opposed.” Dabi snickers.

“So, we’re heading to the club tonight.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” you question, heart skipping a beat at the prospect of just you and Dabi on a mission together.

“You, me, Toga, and Compress. Toga will be there in case she has an opportunity to get any blood for new disguises, and Compress will be there in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

You swallow hard. “Why would we need to make a quick getaway? These are other Villains, right, so-”

“One thing you need to remember, Rookie,” Dabi interrupts. “Not all Villains are like us. We have purpose. We have a mission. Not all Villains are going to take you in, hire you, feed you, decorate you bedroom with glow in the dark stars-”

“You leave my stars alone,” you snap, and Dabi chuckles, glancing down at his hands before looking back up at you, his face turning serious. 

“I mean it, Rook. You stick close to me. Only talk to who you have to. Understood?”

“Okay.” You nod, swallowing hard, and glance at the clock again. “When are we leaving?”

“The club doesn’t open until at least 9 pm. So, probably about 10 or so.”

“Okay.” You stand, trying to look casual, as though your heart isn’t beating like it’s about to come through your chest. “I’m gonna go get dressed, and…maybe I’ll make some lunch. Are you hungry?”

Dabi’s eyes give you the up and down as you stretch. “Starving,” he replies, his tone dark. 

Your eyes shoot back to him before you turn on your heel and head for your room, choosing to ignore the implication. “Alright, just let me get dressed, and I’ll-”

You’re halfway across the room when you realize Dabi is hot on your heels. You turn, confused, and find yourself face-to-face with his chest. Looking up, his face is close to yours. 

“Everyone’s out right now,” he breathes. 

You know what this means, know what he wants, and it’s not like you don’t want it too- It’s been all you can think about for the past week, but you’ve rehearsed what you decided to say in your head at least fifty times. 

“Dabi, I don’t think we should-”

He’s backed you into the wall just outside your room, hands ghosting over your hips. 

“Why not?” He murmurs, ducking his head to graze his lips over your bare shoulder. 

“Well, I-I’m part of the League now, and-” you sigh as his lips move up to your neck, feeling the brush of his tongue against your pulse point. “If-if we’re going to keep things professional-”

He chuckles against your throat. “Who said I'm professional?” he asks, but pulls away anyway, much to your relief. 

It takes you a minute to stand up straight, pushing away from the wall, ignoring your trembling legs and the wetness that has pooled between them. Dabi doesn’t miss this, and smirks. 

“I get it,” he says. 

You peer up at him, unsure if he’s angry or not. “You do?”

“Yeah. Close quarters, that kinda thing.” Dabi shrugs and returns to the couch, sprawling out over it. “Just thought it might make the day more interesting.”

“Interesting?” You sputter. Dabi’s eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah?”

You’re infuriated. Interesting. Like you’re a way to pass the time. Like you’re a placeholder before the mission. 

That sucks.

He’s still watching you, confused, as you silently stew, still standing against the wall. You lift your head to glare at him. 

“I’m not just something to pass the time, Dabi.” With that, you spin and march to your room, slamming the door behind you. 

Dabi stares at your door, bemused, then scowls and stands, heading for his own room. “Never said you were,” he mutters, not nearly loud enough for you to hear. 

In your room, you yank on a pair of skinny jeans, a black tank top, and a hoodie, still angry. Stuffing your feet into your shoes, you stroll out of the room to the kitchen, fully expecting Dabi to still be on the couch and admittedly relieved when you see that he’s not. You busy yourself with pots and pans, cracking eggs and stirring ramen into boiling water. You make a batch of ramen big enough to feed the League when they get back from wherever the hell they are, taking your own bowl back to your room to eat alone. 

In his room, Dabi listens to the distant slamming and clanging from the kitchen, smoking cigarette after cigarette on his bed. Christ. He doesn’t know how to do this. He’d proposed a hookup casually to prevent you from seeing how badly he wanted it. Maybe he did want you to think that you’re just something to pass the time. You’re not, though. He can’t stop thinking about it, about you, naked, underneath him. Clearly, he fucked this one up. And not only had you said no, but now you were pissed. He doesn’t get women. He doesn’t get himself- why he’s so obsessed with you. Maybe another hookup, with someone else, will shake him of whatever this is. This fucking craving. Maybe he just needs a distraction. 

The day passes slowly- the two of you stay isolated in your own rooms until nightfall, when the rest of the League returns to headquarters. Slowly but surely, the main room fills as members trickle in, turn on the tv, warm up dinner. You join the rest just before Dabi does and make it a point not to even glance in his direction for the next couple of hours. Dabi stays at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey and sulking while trying to look like he isn’t sulking. Finally, at quarter of nine, he finishes his drink, stands up, and turns to you. 

“You need to go and get dressed,” he says briskly. “We need to be leaving soon.” 

You nod and head to your room, a shiver of excitement running down your spine. You’re still angry at Dabi for earlier, but it’s quickly being replaced by your anticipation. You have picked out several potential outfits this afternoon, spreading them across your bed, figuring you would ask Toga her opinion before you left. But Toga is up in her own room getting dressed, and Compress won’t have any interest in what you wear. You sigh, considering the outfits, all dark, jeans, tshirts, hoodies, before you hear Dabi behind you. 

“You can put those away. We already chose an outfit for you.” 

You whirl around, surprised, as Dabi steps into your room, closing the door behind him, and holds out a handful of very skimpy-looking clothes. 

“What? Who?” Bewildered, you accept the proffered outfit and look it over, piece by piece. 

“Shig, Toga and I.” The outfit is made up of a black tank top, so thin it could be tissue paper, a short, pleated skirt, thigh highs, and black Docs. You turn to gape at him. 

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

Dabi doesn’t smile. “I’m not. Put it on.” 

You glance at the door, waiting for him to leave, but Dabi doesn’t budge. He stands there, face impassive, as though he’s challenging you. 

Jesus.So this is angry Dabi.

You sigh and throw him an annoyed look, but begin to undress, as he leans back against your closed door and lights a cigarette. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it already. All the same, you dress quickly, annoyed and not wanting to give him a good long glance at anything. 

The tank top feels like silk-you don’t know if this is another Toga piece of clothing or something Dabi has gone out and actually gotten for you, but it’s soft and sheer and shows much more than you’re used to showing. The pleated skirt is purple and black. The thigh highs are long and warm and black- you like these a lot, probably the only part of the outfit that feels comfortable. You shimmy into it all, glancing in the mirror, and your jaw drops. 

“Dabi, this literally shows my ass. I can’t-”

“You can and you will,” he cuts you off. “We don’t want anyone to recognize you. You can’t look like some typical ex-hero. You need to look like you belong on the streets.”

You give him a doubtful look. “This is a disguise?”

“You’ll wear a mask too, like last time.” Dabi takes a drag of his cigarette as his eyes rake up and down your figure. “Toga will help you with makeup. I don’t know nothing about that shit.”  

“I’ll go find her.” First, you sit down on the bed, slipping into the Docs and lacing them tightly. When you stand, you are at least a couple inches taller, which makes you feel a little more powerful as you approach Dabi. 

“I’m gonna need you to move out of the way of the door if you want me to find Toga,” you say sweetly, and he smirks briefly, reluctantly, before his eyes flash away and back to yours. Suddenly, he looks nervous. 

“Look- about this afternoon-” He starts, his voice low, eyes darting back and forth between you and the floor. 

You hold your hand up to stop him. “If it’s all the same, I don’t want to talk about it right now. Can we just forget it?”

Dabi looks frustrated, considering this, before he tries again. “I don’t want you to think that-”

“Look. Dabi.” You take a step back and cross your arms. “I accept that what happened with us was a temporary thing. I understand. That being said, I don’t take sex so lightly. I was in a bad place, and you were a huge comfort to me (his eyes flash to yours in surprise), but I get that it wasn’t like that for you. It meant different things to each of us, and that’s okay. I’m happy that you brought me here. I’m happy to be here. We don’t have to over analyze it. Okay?” 

I don’t want it to be over is on the tip of Dabi’s tongue when there’s a knock on the door. You both jump at the sudden noise. 

“It’s me!” Toga trills, sounding lovely and excited. “Can I come in? I have makeup!”

“Of course,” you call back, as Dabi shuffles away from the door, slipping wordlessly out of it before Toga steps in. 

“Sit, sit, sit!” Toga chirps, guiding you over to the bed and throwing a bag down. “I’ve got work to do!”

Twenty minutes later, Toga’s work is done. You glance in the mirror and can’t help but stare at the girl looking back at you. You don’t recognize her. The ex didn’t allow you to wear much makeup. He said it was whoreish, unnecessary, so you’d never really learned how to apply any of it. But Toga has done a brilliant job; your eyes are smoky and dark, lined with kohl and seem at least two sizes bigger than before. Your skin looks immaculate and smooth, matched with a black-lipsticked smile. You stare for a few more seconds before turning to Toga, wide-eyed. 

“You’re gonna have to teach me how to do this, sometime.”

Toga laughs. “I’d love to! But we gotta go, or we’re gonna be late. C’mon!” she seizes your hand, half dragging you out to the main room, where the others are waiting. 

Compress glances up before standing and heading for the door. “Lovely as always, ladies,” he says warmly. Dabi turns towards you and freezes, sapphire eyes wide. 

“What do you think, Dabs?” Toga chirps, plopping down on the couch to pull her own shoes on. “Doesn’t y/n look great?”

Dabi looks away quickly, turning to put his coat on. All he says is, “I dunno why you put lipstick on her, Toga. She’s gonna have a mask anyway.”

“It’s for the aesthetic,” Toga huffs, then gets up and flounces towards the door. “You never appreciate my work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dabi mutters, then turns back to you. “Here.” He offers you a black face mask, which you take. 

“Thanks,” you say simply, offering him a small smile before putting the mask on and tucking the bands between your ears. He nods, then leads you out the door. 

“Everyone stay close,” he orders, sounding more like himself. “On the streets, at the club. If shit goes down, I need to know where you are.”

The club isn’t far, so your small group walks there. Several blocks up, Dabi leads you all into an alleyway and down a short flight of stairs, knocking on an ordinary-looking door. You’re surprised to see a speakeasy-style grate slide open, revealing a pair of suspicious eyes. 

“Name and business.”

“League of Villains.” Dabi flashes an easy smile. “Just here to blow off some steam, man.” 

The eyes narrow, the speakeasy grate slides shut, and then the door swings open, ushering you into chaos. 

You immediately flinch from the pounding of the speakers blasting some sort of shitty techno music. Following Dabi inside, you can’t see shit. The inside of the club is all dark and flashing colorful lights. As your eyes adjust, you look around the room. There’s a long bar, tended by what looks like a walking shark, but you realize it’s just a Villain who must have some shark-like quirk. Either way, he’s terrifying. Maybe he was hired for that purpose alone. The room is lined with booths, and a small, lit-up dancefloor stands to the side, packed with dancers. Toga whoops, barely audible over the pumping bass, and makes a beeline for it. Compress groans and follows quickly behind. 

So much for staying together. 

Meekly, you follow Dabi to the bar, trying very hard to look casual. He leans across the bar and speaks to the shark, who nods, pours two whiskeys, and hands them to Dabi, who throws a twenty down on the bar before turning to you and handing you a glass. He leans down to speak in your ear so he doesn’t have to shout. 

“I wasn’t really expecting Toga and Compress to stick around. Drink and stay close to me, okay?” 

His breath against your ear makes you shiver, something Dabi notices. He smirks, pulls back, and takes a sip of his whiskey, his eyes glowing. Annoyed that he caught it, you scowl and down the drink in one gulp. Dabi doesn’t hesitate to take your glass and order you another before leading you to a booth. Instead of sitting across from you, he slides into the seat next to you, cozying up. Leaning down, he speaks in your ear again. 

“We’ll find him. For right now, just act like anyone else here, try to have a good time, okay?” 

“Okay.” The first glass of whiskey has settled in, and you feel slightly more relaxed than before. You allow Dabi to settle a casual arm around you as you nurse your second drink, searching the dance floor for Toga. You find her being twirled around by Compress, and have to smile. You turn to tell Dabi, but find him scanning the room himself, eyes alight. Looking for Thanatos, you figure, and let him do his thing. Twenty minutes passes in a heartbeat, before Dabi collects your empty glass with his, murmurs a “stay here” to you, and gets up without waiting for a response. You watch in slight panic as he abandons you to go back to the bar. 

It’s fine. I’ll just sit here and talk to no one. You turn back to face the dance floor, searching for Toga again, but she is lost in the sea of dancers. You’re looking so hard, you don’t notice when someone slides into the booth beside you, until they speak in your ear, startling you.

“And just who are you?” The smooth, familiar voice causes you to jump and whirl in your seat, finding yourself staring into golden eyes with familiar markings. 

Oh, my God.

“Hawks?” You blurt, before you can stop yourself. 

The winged Hero has come over to flirt, and has no fucking idea who you are. You watch as his golden eyes flash in surprise, and then narrow suspiciously. “Really, who are you?” He demands. 

“Hawks, it’s me.” You pull down your mask to reveal your face, and Hawks’ face whitens as he takes you in. 

“Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here? Everyone’s been looking for you!”

“What the fuck are YOU doing here?” You demand back, partially out of shock and partially to avoid the question. “This is a Villain Club.”

“I’m aware- are you aware?”

“Of course I’m aware! Hawks-” The thought suddenly overtakes you. “Are you working with the Villains or are you here undercover?” The realization that you could be exposed causes your stomach to drop sickeningly, your hands shaking.

Hawks grabs them. “No- No. I’m…ah, fuck it. Y/n, I’ve been working with the League.”

You stare into his anxious eyes for a long second, and the burst out laughing. Hawks stares at you in shock as you laugh hysterically for at least a full minute. 

“Do you wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” He finally exclaims.

“Hawks- Keigo. I’m part of the League now- I’m trusting you with this,” you say sharply, finally somber. “Nobody knows.”

“Y/n, the last I heard of you, you’d beaten on your ex and then disappeared. The Commission reported you were fired, and the news outlets have been searching for you since. What the actual fuck happened between now and then?” 

 Fuck it, you’ve got time. You lean into Hawk’s ear and give him a brief summary of the last couple weeks of your life. When you’ve finished, his eyes are intense, his mouth flattened into a thin line. You pull back and wait. 

“Fucking Christ, y/n,” he finally says, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes as he takes this all in. “Fucking Christ.”

“Yeah. I know.”

He opens his eyes to gaze at you again. “Are you sure this is what you want? You’re gonna spend your whole life on the run.”

“I don’t think it’s any worse then leading a double life.” You look at him pointedly, and he has the humility to look ashamed. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing with the League? Because nobody’s even mentioned you to me.”

It’s Hawks’ turn to lean into your ear and explain himself. By the time he’s done, you’re nodding. 

“Yeah, the Commission’s corrupt. I’m glad to see that somebody else sees it, and not just me.”

“There’s actually a lot of us who feel that way,” Hawks says excitedly, “and we’re getting somewhere. I’d love to tell you more about it sometime, I’m actually due to see Dabi later this week- maybe you can come with him?”

“I can ask. Actually-” you turn to scan the room, frowning. Dabi isn’t near the bar. It’s been at least fifteen minutes. “Maybe I should go find him. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I’ll be around a little, tonight. If I don’t see you, I’ll bring you up with Dabi later this week.” He flashes you a sincere smile. It’s really fucking good to see you, y/n. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re on our side.” You give him a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon, okay? And Keigo, please- keep this between us.”

He lifts one hand and crosses it over his chest. “On my life,” he vows, then squeezes your hand, offers you one last smile, and is gone.

You turn to scan the room again, in search of Dabi. Where the fuck is he? 

You don’t know what happened. 

You don’t realize that, fifteen minutes ago when Dabi went to the bar, he turned to check the dance floor, located Toga and Compress, ordered your drinks, and then glanced back to check on you- 

And saw you flirting shamelessly with fucking Hawks. 

It actually made his heart drop in his chest to see how closely you were leaning into each other, the way you were speaking into his ear. He stood, frozen, until he saw Hawks grab your hands, and then forced himself to turn away, slamming the empty glasses down into the bar and heading into the crowd. 

You have no idea what Dabi saw, and what he believes happened. He doesn’t give you any time to explain. 

You get up and move cautiously through the club, in search of him. Passing the dance floor up close, you easily spot Toga and Compress, give them a quick wave, then continue your circling, searching for him. 

You reach the back of the club, spot his head in the crowd, and freeze when you take in the whole scene. 

Dabi, leaning against the wall. 

Dabi, towering above some long-haired woman. 

Dabi, whispering in her ear. 

You can’t tell much about the woman except that she is small and thin, with long blonde hair. She looks like she’s about to take him somewhere and crawl on top of him. Her tiny hands dance along his chest, tracing his collarbone as they speak together quietly, not breaking eye contact. Dabi gives her a long, slow, heated grin, the one he usually reserves for you, and that’s about when you absolutely lose your fucking mind. 

“HEY. What the hell?” You shout, striding over to them, ducking underneath Dabi’s arm long enough to shove his chest. He’s unaffected, but steps back a couple feet, eyes glowing in a way you don’t recognize. 

“What’s your issue?” The woman hisses, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you around. You jerk back. 

“Keep your fucking hands off me. I don’t owe you an explanation,” you spit, righteous indignation and two glasses of whiskey spurring you on. “Keep your fucking hands off him, too.” 

“It’s a free country,” the woman snarks back, glancing above your head to Dabi, who is watching this little scene go down, a satisfied little smirk hovering at the corners of his mouth. 

You snap your fingers an inch from her nose, so that the woman’s eyes shoot back to you. In your Docs, you tower over her, so backing her into the wall and getting a couple inches from her face isn’t a problem. For a second, she actually looks scared.

“Keep your skanky hands off of him,” you say slowly, enunciating each word clearly as though she’s an idiot, which she probably is. 

“What did you just call me?” The woman shrieks, looking like she’s ready to claw your eyes out. You open your mouth to respond when Dabi finally puts an end to it all. 

“Okay, stop. Come here,” he orders, gripping your wrist and wrenching you away. You point threateningly at the woman with your free hand as he drags you, until you stumble and are forced to turn and follow him. 

“Let go of me!” You hiss at him, struggling to free your hand in an all-out tantrum. You are furious and drunk. Dabi pulls you into the nearest bathroom, a small, empty, single stall room. He slams the door shut and locks it behind him before he turns on you. You’re already ripping your face mask off, shoving it into your pocket, ready to start yelling. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“What the fuck was THAT?” You yell back. “You went to go get us a drink and I find you in a fucking makeout corner with some little blonde slut-”

“I went to go get us drinks before I saw you flirting with fucking Hawks,” Dabi counters you, eyes sparking dangerously. “Fucking HAWKS.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you fucking- Dabi, Keigo and I grew up together. He came over because he didn’t recognize me, and when he did-”

“When he did, he was all whispering in your ear and holding your fucking hands,” Dabi snarls.

“HE WAS GLAD TO SEE ME. HE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT HAP- you know what, I don’t need to fucking explain myself to you,” you seethe, turning to wrench the door open. “You have fun with your fucking little whores-”

Dabi’s arm shoots over your shoulder, slamming the bathroom door again so that you can’t leave. He keeps it there as you glare at the door, refusing to look at him, and speaks low in your ear. 

“I was only talking to her because I thought you were talking to him.”

“Then FUCKING ASK ME, Dabi, Jesus!” You yell back, spinning to glower up at him. 

He steps closer to you, his hand coming down to cup your cheek, dragging his thumb across your lips. “So you’re not into Hawks?”

“No, I’m not fucking into Hawks,” you snap, still furious, despite how good his warm hand feels on your skin. “He’s an old friend. That’s it.”

His eyes trace your lips before flashing up to look at you. “So why are you so mad about the Villain-chaser?”

You open your mouth to respond, and find that you don’t have an answer. 

“We- we’re on a mission,” you hiss, trying to muster your indignant righteousness back to where it was before. “You abandoned me-” 

“I didn’t abandon you. I was across the room.” 

“In a Villain Club that I’ve never been to-”

“Toga and Compress “abandoned” you too, and you’re not mad at them.” Dabi’s eyes are glowing triumphantly. “What else ya got?”

You feel yourself start to blush. “I-” He doesn’t let you finish. 

“Admit it. You were jealous.”

That pisses you off. 

“I wasn’t jealous,” you hiss at him, shoving against him. “We have a job to do, and you were off trying to get laid-”

Dabi isn’t having it. He knows he’s won. 

“Jesus, doll,” he drawls, tracing one long finger against your lips. “If you wanted to fuck me again, all you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck you,” you bite out, and he smiles, widely, before seizing you by the throat and shoving you against the wall. You gasp as he leans down and digs his teeth into your collarbone. 

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do, baby.”

And then he is smothering you, kissing a blazing path up your neck, one hand holding your waist flush against him and one tangled in your hair. You should be mad, should be furious, but you’re kissing him back as though you are drowning and he is oxygen. His lips are at your ear.  

“So good girl gets jealous, huh? Want me all to yourself?” 

You smug, arrogant asshole. 

Something animalistic takes over and you shove against his chest hard enough to make him step back again. You reach up before he can react and slap him across the face. He lets go of your throat and stares at you in surprised delight. “Do it again,” he challenges huskily. 

So you do. This time your hand makes contact with the staples against his cheek, hitting him hard enough to turn his head. When he looks back at you, his smile is dangerous, but he makes no move as you step closer except to gaze at you with lust blown eyes, pupils dilating. 

 When you reach out to clip him again, he seizes your wrist and pulls it to your side, holding you in a straitjacket position and swiveling you so that you’re bent against the wall. You make a sound of distress, but can’t help panting as he hikes up your skirt and pulls your panties down to your ankles. 

 “I didn’t know you liked it so rough, good girl,” he breathes in your ear, and then releases your arms and allows you to brace yourself better against the wall. 

“I’m not always good,” you mutter back breathlessly. His belt clinks as he undoes it. Almost painfully slowly, he lines himself up with your entrance, hissing over how wet you are already. 

“You are for me,” he breathes, and then pushes inside you in one fluid motion. You groan at the fullness, trying desperately to keep your back arched for him, as he begins to fuck you at a steady pace. His hands burn at your hips as he pounds away at you, bullying your cunt. Gasps and soft moans from both of you fill the tiny space. 

 Somewhere along the way, your hands go numb. Dabi sees them slipping from the wall and seizes your arms, long enough to pull you against his chest before wrapping his own arms around you to pull your tank top down and fondle your breasts. You moan, your head falling back against his shoulder. His pants and muttered curses sound even better so close to your ear, and all too soon you feel the familiar tightening in your belly. 

 “Not yet,” you whimper, because this feels so good you want it to last hours. 

 “Gotta be quick, baby,” Dabi half-whispers, half-moans in your ear. “We’re on a mission, remember?” 

Oh, yeah. That. 

Dabi knows exactly what will finish you the quickest. Reaching down, his deft fingers part you, finding your clit as he pushes sloppily into your cunt. 

“Oh, fuck-“ the tightening increases and you feel your body tensing up, preparing for the onslaught. 

 “You’re doing such a good job for me, baby. You feel so good,” Dabi whispers, his own breath ragged. “I want you to cum on daddy’s cock, please? For me? Come on baby, I know you can.” He listens as your panting increases rapidly, hiding a smile into the crook of your neck before biting down gently. “Cum for daddy, good girl.” 

 You let go, crying out, vaguely aware that his hand snakes over your mouth to muffle you as you shake uncontrollably against him. 

 “So fucking good,” Dabi moans, his hips stuttering against you as he finds his own end, trembling and panting into your shoulder as he gushes inside you. You both take a minute, leaning against each other, panting as you come down to earth. 

Eventually the moment ends, and you find yourself pushing off from Dabi’s chest, pulling up your panties, fixing your top, and straightening your skirt. You stride to the mirror to smooth your hair. Behind you, Dabi catches your eye in the mirror and smirks as he secures his belt. 

“Guess I should make you jealous more often.”

“Shut up,” you snap, but you can’t help grinning as you smooth your hair back into place. 

He chuckles. 

“Better get this done with. Shig is gonna think we ran away or somethin’.”

You turn towards the stall to clean up, already feeling the warm trickle of cum leaking from your cunt and running down your thigh. “I have to-”

Dabi seizes your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Confused, you look up at him. “Leave it,” he breathes, pupils dilating again as he gazes down on you. “Please.”

He looks so pathetic and needy at this request that you can’t say no. You just can’t. You lean down, straightening your thigh highs, then nod towards the door. “Let’s go, then.”

Dabi gives you another triumphant grin, swooping down to kiss you gently. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, kissing you once more. He waits for you to pull your mask out of your pocket and slip it back on before he turns, and leads you out the door. 

Back in the chaos of the club, Dabi slips his hand into yours to guide you as he scans the room. His head turns sharply, focusing on a far corner, then nods. “We need to go get Toga and Compress. He’s here,” he says into your ear, then leads you to the dance floor. You follow dutifully, feeling like a puppy. 

At the edge of the floor, Dabi quickly locates Toga and Compress, dancing blissfully in the center of the crowd, and waves them over. They hurry over to join you, sweating profusely, out of breath, but beaming. 

“Having fun?” Dabi asks dryly.

“So much!!!” Toga and Compress chorus gleefully, high-fiving.

“Well, tighten it up. He’s here.” 

Both of them quickly sober, eyes lighting up as they follow Dabi’s nod to the corner. You’re too short to see above the crowd, so you can’t see where they’re looking, but you hold on tight to Dabi’s hand and wait patiently for the next move. 

“Let’s go,” Dabi says, loudly enough that everyone hears him, and leads the way to the opposite side of the club. On the way there, you pass the Villain-chaser from before. Dabi doesn’t even look at her and keeps your hand in his as he leads the way. You can’t help but throw her a smug smile behind your mask as she stares at the two of you in wide-eyed disbelief. As the cherry on top, you flash her the middle finger before turning back to trail after your tall, raven-haired guide. 

He doesn’t miss this. Glowing blue eyes shine down on you in approval just as you reach the back corner of the club. This is clearly a VIP section, the booths fancier, more spacious, cleaner. 

You know which one is Thanatos instantly, just by the way everyone is fawning around him. He’s a big man, at least seven feet tall, with long dark hair that trails down to his muscular arms and chest. He looks like a Greek god, a warrior. Surrounding him are smaller, lesser Villains, many women, and an entire security team. Dabi waits patiently, letting go of your hand and nudging you gently behind his back so that you’re practically hidden. Toga and Compress sandwich you into Dabi’s back, flanking your small group with brisk professionalism. 

It only takes a couple minutes for Thanatos to notice Dabi standing patiently in front of him. “Ah, I know that face anywhere,” he booms, his voice clear and deep even over the music of the club. “You’re the one they call Dabi, aren’t you? With the League of Villains.”

“That’s correct. I’m here to request a discussion between you and the leader of the League, Shigaraki, at your earliest convenience.” Dabi speaks clearly, graciously. “He sent us here to seek you out.” 

“And who do you have with you?” Thanatos inquires, lifting his eyes to the space just behind Dabi. “I want to know who Shigaraki has sent.”

Dabi steps aside, and in one fluid motion, Toga and Compress step forward, once again obscuring you from view. 

“This is Toga and Compress,” Dabi introduces them quickly. “Two of our strongest members.”

“I see them,” Thanatos booms, “But I’m wondering who the little one is, hiding behind you.”

You feel Dabi stiffen, briefly, before reaching his hand back to you, to guide you to his side. You are shaking a little; this is a Villain the Commission has long been searching for, one that you’ve never actually managed to see in person. His list of crimes is longer than your list of saves as a Hero. To the Hero Commission, he was like a myth, terrifying, strong, and largely nonexistent. He’s never been caught. He’s never even been sighted in public. 

This is kind of a big deal.

“This is our newest recruit….” Dabi pauses, and panic sweeps over you as you realize you haven’t created a Villain name for yourself yet. Dabi covers that smoothly. “It’s her first week. We brought her along as part of her training.” You give a stiff and hurried bow of respect as Thanatos regards you briefly before turning back to Dabi. “And where is your great leader, the one who wants to speak with me, but has yet to face me?” He rumbles, causing his lackeys in the background to chortle. 

Dabi’s chin jerks up a fraction of an inch. “In the League, we run the errands and send the messages. Shigaraki only comes after we’ve secured an appointment.”

Thanatos considers this, nodding. “Not a bad way of doing things,” he agrees, then sighs deeply, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

“I will meet with Shigaraki. One of my cohorts will give you contact information-” he turns to nod his head at a lackey, who scrambles over with a pen and a small piece of paper, scribbling down some information. Dabi takes it with a nod, places it carefully in his pocket. 

“Tell your Shigaraki I look forward to speaking with him,” Thanatos says, clearly a dismissal. Dabi nods. 

“We’ll be in touch.” Dabi turns and steps away, you, Compress and Toga quickly following suit. 

 Dabi leads the rest of you out of the club and into the night air. The minute the door swings shut behind you, you take off your mask and take a deep breath, letting the chill fill your lungs. You turn to beam triumphantly at Dabi, who returns your smile as Toga does a victory dance and Compress gives a silly little bow. 

“Well done, team,” Compress sounds like he’s beaming behind his mask. 

“Let’s get home.” Dabi takes your hand again (a gesture not missed by Toga and Compress, who elbow each other but mercifully stay silent), and leads you down the sidewalk. 

Back at headquarters, Dabi immediately goes upstairs to report to Shigaraki and give him the contact information that Thanatos’ lackey gave him earlier. You sink down on the couch with Toga as Compress bids you both goodnight and also disappears up the stairs. 

Toga yawns, slumping against your shoulder. “God, what a night. My feet hurt from dancing,” she says dreamily, and you make a mental note to ask Dabi if you can go back to the club again every once in a while. 

“You did a good job tonight,” Toga adds, sitting up to smile at you. “You’re really one of us now, huh?”

Warmth floods you as you beam back at her. “Yeah, I guess I am,” you say quietly, and Toga pecks a quick kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sleepy. Goodnight!” She bounces up the stairs. Moments later, you hear her door click shut. 

 You sit on the couch for a while, reflecting on the mission, and listen to the low murmur of Dabi’s and Shig’s voices upstairs. You think back to Hawks, possibly the greatest shock of the evening. Keigo was a childhood friend, a confidant, and you’re beyond thrilled to be able to see him and speak with him again. Crazy, what he’s doing with the League, but then- so are you. You’ll have to ask Dabi if you can come with him when he goes to see Hawks the next time…

Your thoughts are interrupted by Dabi’s heavy footfall on the stairs. He descends quickly, head down, taking a drag of his cigarette, and begins to cross the room to your door, not even noticing you on the couch. 

“Going somewhere?” You smirk, and he jumps, noticing you.

“Jesus. Yeah, I was coming to…check in,” he says vaguely. 

Your smile widens. “About what?” You ask, feigning innocence. 

He takes another drag, blowing it out slowly as he eyes you, one hand stuffed in his pocket. 

“Can we go to your room?” He asks, gesturing towards your door. 

“Sure.” You stand and lead the way, turning on the lights as you do. Dabi shuts the door behind him and leans against it, his same move from earlier. You sit on the bed, cross your legs, and wait. 

He’s staring at the floor, trying to find words. He doesn’t know how to do this. He mutters something, something you don’t quite catch.

“What?” You find yourself leaning forward, straining to hear.

Dabi huffs a sigh and then looks up, locking eyes with you. “You’re not just something to pass time on. That’s not how I see you.”

 You’re thrilled, but still hesitant. “But earlier-”

“I said that so you wouldn’t know how bad I- how much I…I was trying to be casual. But I think I should tell you, this isn’t…casual…to me. Not anymore.”

Cerulean eyes meet hazel eyes from across the room as you both weigh the meaning of the words. He doesn’t say anything. He’s waiting for you. 

Instead of formulating a response, seeking out the perfect words- you’re far too tired for that- you stand, cross the room, and press your lips to Dabi’s. He responds instantly, his hands twisting in your hair, deepening the kiss without hesitation. When you finally pull away, his eyes are half open, his breathing ragged as he waits for whatever comes next.

You take his hand leading him away from your door. “Let’s just go to bed.”

To be continued 

[spookyserenades]

hi hi!!🤗

how are you doing? 💖

1st i wanted to tnx u 4 replying to my ask(previous one)!!😁💜

it made me squeal & kick my feet in the air sm i almost fell from my chair 😅

i'm super glad that despite the messy delivery, my love 4 your writing & story could reach u regardless! ^^

i read ch 7 this morning & OMG!!

thank you thank you so so much 4 both writing it & tagging me too!! i really appreciate both!🥰🥰🥰

i don't even know where to begin w/, there were so many twists & new developments & new things packed in this ch! it wasn't a simple treat, it was a whole course meal!😂

i also got my believes abt your writing reconfirmed! you truly are a master of the craft: your meticulous care 4 details,your capacity in extending the story in a long-slow-burn type of development but making always feels like it's going smoothly,w/out a halt in the plot nor a dull moment, your outstanding skill in making the story feel so realistic & immersive even in the smallest of things as you describing the glass-stained lamp in the mc's room & bringing it up enough times that it starts being a familiar element that i associate w/ mc,w/ their room & can now envision every time an event is taking place in that room.

i also i'm head over heels over how u slowly built a sense of growing familiarity between the mc & the hybrids, by giving them peculiar characteristics,quirks or habits that we saw the mc pick on throughout the whole story & that she thinks abt & is growing accostumed to/notices. also some reoccuring jokes(mc being a lightweight 4 example) or dynamics too.

the way your writing brings each character(side characters included ofc,i love them sm!!) to life will never cease to amaze me!! it makes getting invested in your story so easy,so inevitable!😣💜💜💜

you left ch 6 on an absolute cliffhanger & that same energy & trepidation followed also in the beggining of ch 7, so smoothly & naturally!!👏👏👏👏

------------ (details abt ch 7 below,just in case i don't wanna ruin the surprise in case anybody still haven't read it yet)-------------------

Right after witnessing her mother have a vision & getting warned abt it, the mc also has a confrontational moment w/ her mother that made me stop & reflect a bit abt her reaction: my 1st impression was that she just kinda wanted to not adress it nor aknowledge it out of anxiety,fear & also sense of guilt toward picturing tae like that, like she needed to try to convince herself that it couldn't be true & kinda just take it out on her mom(a tiny bit) bc of the shock & to push away the possibilities. at 1st i simply thought that she was just & rightfully freaking out, but then it stuck w/ me how she brought up in frustration how she stopped card reading & spiritual practice,esp things surrounding knowing the future bc it drove her friends away & almost broke important bonds in her life. i'm no expert when it comes to paganism & its various practices but i'm not avert to learning abt or simply seeing it portrayed as well(rapresentation matters afterall^^) & although i'm not pagan myself,i hope i am respectful when i say i can relate to mc anyway in her relationship w/ it. in my opinion(as a non-pagan,so i hope i'm not being insensitive😅) using practices like card reading or rituals to have glimpses of the future/visions & such are harmless if u only practice them to have the occasional guidance &/or reassurance in your life, but the moment they become smth too reoccuring,smth u depend to much on & you base your every move on,it can turn harmful, it can make u unable to make decisions in your life,turn u paranoid & suspiscious of ppl & you no longer have the reins of the course of your life(not saying this is the current situation ofc,i was just wondering if this is smth that mc experienced when younger,thus why they are more wary now). in the story, multiple times her mother or mc herself bring up the fact that once you tapped into this wrld,u cannot get back & her mother mentioned how mc naturaly has a peculiar capacity & a penchant(?) 4 it. i understand the concept of "once u start,u can't go back" & her mother has never pressured her,rather always tried to give her a positive nudge,an encouraging push to get back into it more but i do feel like there's also some pressure, like it's inevitable & mc will have to get back into practicing(which i feel could be described as being a little cornered but only bc mc had a negative experience in the past that made her take some distance from practicing, not bc the practice or beliefs themselves are neg ofc,i don't need to know paganism well in order to respect it anyway!) so i'm super excited to see how mc's relationship w/ paganism will change & take shape in the future: if she'll further distance herself or if she'll find smth that gets her closer & if it will happen only out of necessity or if she'll find a way of integrating it again in her life by her own terms & level of comfortability bc of her indipendent choice to do so. i'm also curious to know more abt both namjoon & jk's own relationship w/ paganism,faith & their personal believes.

if i may draw a parallelism, mc's situation seems a bit similar to ( not exactly & in a more light way) religious trauma. now,i'm aware that's not a very fitting term since paganism wrks differently & idk if trauma is the right term 4 how she still is impacted by the experience(both past & present) w/ the malevolent entity. it's a bit complicated to explain(i suck w/ wrds srry😭) but by religious trauma i don't mean it in the traditional sense that we apply to abrahamic religions 4 example in which the trauma is created by the abuse & twist of religion to use it as a tool of power/justification 4 bigotry against the individual or the harm prepetruated by the other belivers themselves against the individual, in the case of paganism & this situation i mean it in the sense that the relationship mc has w/ paganism & practicing in of itself changed, specifically due to a negative experience, that still influences the way she interacts w/ the beliefs,customs & practices. bc of that, i'm very intrigued by what u gonna gives us in the future & how she's gonna heal (or not) her relationship w/ it. i dunno if i expressed myself well enough & if i said smth offensive or made a comparison that is disrespctful i apologise, u don't have to but it's more than welcome 4 u to point out so i can both learn & take responsability!😊

now talking abt the main course of this meal,tae's revelation!

i had my mind set on his confessing that it was bc of self-defense ofc & not premeditated either but oh boyyy if u had me faltering & growing anxious & unsure w/ all the amazing & beautifully written build up,the rollercoaster of emotion & tae's sudden changes in mood & pauses while spilling the full truth! the sigh i let out when reading mc's reaction, understanding & reassurance given to poor tae, i probably sounded like a leaf blower XD

i thought that would be the only main drama of the chapter so i felt more relaxed now just to get hit straight in the face w/ the namjoon' bomb?!!!

NAMJOON?!!!!!!!😳😳😳😳💀💀💀💀

i never saw it coming,i never expected such a reaction nor that it would come from him, i never could have predicted such a turn of events, it felt like a slap,like a bucket of ice. literally stopped reading to climb down the ladder & pace around the room in shock o-o

we def know that he runs hot 'n cold, has his moments & he never was fond of tae,to say.

but he always struck me as somebody pretty level headed, quite in control of his actions to the point of being calculative sometimes & who's used to keep his blood cold even in hot situations. i felt like a clown🤡

4 awhile his reaction made absolute 0 sense to me,no matter how hard i squeezed my peanut sized brain i couldn't find smth that would justify or push him to react like that,to that extent & say those exact wrds. but all bc a) i was seeing it from my pov & b) i assumed i already knew the character well enough to be able to see patterns in his behaviour/way of thinking which is not true cause we know barely 3 things abt his past tbh(my bad honestly😭)

1- i thought that he reacted this intensely bc of fear of tae & protectiveness over mc & her wellbeing(him already not liking the bear hybrid but now actually hating him bc he perceived him as a threat or possible danger to mc & the others) but that flew right out the window the moment he started talking shit abt mc directly to her face(not proud of it, but 4 some time i really wanted to slap him a couple times😅). esp when he said that she was a spoiled rich grl that basically always acted out on nothing but her naivety & whims. that felt like he said it w/ his full chest & meant it😳, like he had been feeling that way abt her 4 awhile but never voiced it out untill now🤔. which threw me back to the time when after the vinyl store etc & after eating icecream at the fountain, his mood soured & he started giving the cold shoulder to mc & i wondered if smth crossed his mind in that moment that reminded him abt smth in his past or a bitter thought abt mc?

2-it's more of a theory: maybe he has a hard time seeing the genuine love & care behind mc's choice in adopting them all bc he thinks all there's behind her actions is her "naivety, saviour complex & habit of just getting whatever she wants bc of growing up rich & spoiled" bc that's the only type of ppl he saw around him(when it wasn't straight up abusive ppl)?

3- his worry abt tae putting them all in danger w/ the law could be quite reasonable but i think is way inflated in his head. mama raised no snitch & i don't think there is any reason to suspect that any of the other hybrids or mc herself would rat tae out. plus tae himself said that if it ever comes to it,he would never confess that the others knew abt him. plus the poor teddy bear hybrid is already shouldering the guilt from 1(cough well deserved chough) kill & is already living in worry of facing legal truoble bc of it so if namjoon thinks tae would do it again w/ any of them when there's no reason nor need to beside the fact that tae would never as well, just confirmed to me that all the accusations,assumptions & concerns that pushed namjoon to react that intensely & against tae were based on fear mostly. i mean,it makes sense to experience a bit of fear given the situation ofc, but unlike mc's & the others initial doubt & fear, his seems diff, like there's smth personal behind it...which bring me to my last point!

4- namjoon already has his fair share of negative experiences w/ the law bc he faked his documents to join the club etc & he got found out. but we never got to know how he got found out, if somebody ratted him out or smth else. so it makes sense that he would be more wary & tense than others knowing that the law could be involved again & also knowing that he would have to be in a position where he has to trust others to not sing like a bird. but still, he seemed very nervous & paranoid even... is he hiding smth like tae did? we still don't know what kind of ppl were in his life b4(beside mc's mother) or how exactly he came to know abt the "supernatural" & such. also b4 ending captured & at gerry's he mentioned that he lived as a wolf in national parks to jimin but didn't go into details. maybe he's trying to fly off the radar bc otherwise he risks smth legally & tae's situation put him on edge? idk,i'm speculating,rambling,being delirious at this point??😭😂 i'm trying to find smth in his reaction that may make it more understandable & feel less as just him being straight up an asshole & i'm kinda boiling my brain & feeling quite stupid w/ the things i came up w/😅

talking abt the actual fight instead, i really love your choice in making jk the one that descalated the situation & kinda acted as a mediator/sedative authority. unusual but suprisingly it fits him & the story very well! plus it also shifted his position in the house & dynamic,w/ mc mostly, but also w/ the bear & the wolf hybrids. god bless him 4 handling it so well & preventing the worst! xd

all the hybrids(minus poor hoseok but understandable😓💚) played a role into taking off some of the responsability & weight on mc abt having to do damage control & managing the situation. it really felt like it's no longer a relationship where she's primarily the one that takes care of them & navigates all the relationships & duties & things to do to keep things running in the house, but they all try to do their part & some of her part too if it gets too much,like this time. they are not just basking in the comfort & love, they are enjoying it ofc but they are also serious abt returning it & resolving conflicts etc inside the house also to take care of her as well. 4 now it's out of gratitude & also liking & caring abt mc & it's going so well w/ the slow burn!!!

quick note- you wrote abt jin having ptsd/anxiety/phobias & w/ that obviously come also triggers & i noticed how in the scene by the fire while making s'mores he seemed fidgety & uncomfortable w/ getting close to the fire so hoseok was roasting them 4 him. & knowing he was a "performer" in circuses b4, i wonder if they used fire or heat to punish him? or if smth happened to him that has to do w/ fire. u don't have to tell me if you don't want to ofc!^^ it's just me noticing this lil thing & being too curious xd

...uhm

i think i wrote enough(too much even) & should just stop by now😅 thank you 4 everything, 4 sharing your breathtaking writing, for giving me time out of your day when u reply & also 4 giving me space 4 my rambling even tho i feel i may have taken advantage of it a bit by now😓🙏

i hope this ask doesn't feel overwhelming & i hope you'r doing ok & are happy & healthy!!🤗🥰💜💜💜

Hi hi hi lovebug! I'm doing well lately, how have you been? I'm so happy you've dropped by to chat again! 🥰

Thank you so much for continuing to support Trouvaille and send me such wonderful feedback! I feel incredibly lucky and grateful to receive your love and all of your thoughts on the story 🥺💘

So again AHHH thank you so so much for your sweet compliments about my writing, my heart is gonna explode seriously 😭 (you know how to make a girl blush!!) I'm really pleased that you are feeling immersed into the story, especially in the jam-packed, plot heavy update in Chapter Seven! So cool that you can envision the home and the settings too, I was hoping that I was describing the surroundings well enough that readers could see it in their minds!

One of the most exciting things about writing an OT7 fic is planning out all the little quirks and traits each of the boys will have, on top of the MC and side characters, as well. Since about a week has passed since MC adopted the hybrids by Chapter Seven, she's become accustomed to some of the most obvious quirks some of them have (Hoseok's three note whistle tone, Jimin's cowboy manners addressing her as "Miss Y/N", etc.) so over time as she gets to know them more intimately, other unique traits will reveal themselves! I love a good few reoccurring jokes as well, I'm happy that you've picked up the lightweight one LMAO... eeeee but I'm so glad that their quirks are making them seem more realistic, thank you!! 💜💜

fdjkasfh I wanna apologize for leaving the previous chapter on a cliffhanger, I tend to do that a lot... I'm a sucker for shock value 💀

So MC and her mother! Their relationship tends to ebb and flow, due to the fact that their personalities are quite different. MC tends to be a bit more grounded in reality, conscious of responsibility, and perhaps a bit overly concerned with the opinions of others, at times. Meanwhile, her mother is loud and proud, free spirited, and almost childlike in nature. In a way, MC might feel as though she often had to act as the adult growing up, while her mother may have felt MC was a bit too rigid. Besides that, the spirituality that MC and her mother share also plays a big part in their relationship and dynamic. MC's big issue with her mother is the perceived nosiness that comes with card reading for others, particularly behind their backs. It is mentioned I believe in Chapter Three that MC's mother would often do Tarot readings for MC and then report back to her on the results, which in turn irked MC while she had taken a break from her spiritual practice. MC may have had instances in her childhood where having an eccentric pagan mother discouraged others from wanting to get closer to MC and her family. When her mother had the vision about Taehyung, I think MC's main concern was Tae overhearing the interaction, and either getting spooked or his feelings hurt in consequence. Truly, MC thought the vision to be so absurd at first, that she wrote it off almost immediately.

Paganism is an interesting sort of religion to practice, as there are many paths under the umbrella term of paganism one can take. One pagan that does card readings might not do herbal magic, another might not use Tarot or oracle at all and focus their energies on candle magic. Really, it is up to the practitioner how they practice, what they believe, and what works best for them. MC and her mother are a good example of this. Her mother tends to lean on Tarot and psychic ability, while MC (who is just now getting back into her practice) tends to be comfortable with spell crafting-- we'll dive more into her practice in the future! Also, no worries- you aren't being insensitive whatsoever (in fact, you're very respectful), I love answering questions on paganism and The Craft! I hope I can be a friendly person for anyone to come to and ask questions like these, it's fun to discuss with others! ✨💖

I like that you pointed out MC's mother being one to "nudge" her back into her practice, that IS absolutely what she is doing. A big theme here, as well, is the idea of "you see them, they see you" when it comes to working with spirits or any kind of magic. That's why it was important for me to stress the urgency MC had with performing some protective magic after the altercation with that entity; protection is key for a pagan/witch. We'll see in future updates how she hones her craft and makes it her own (on her own terms!) As well as how Namjoon, Jeongguk, and perhaps the others (!) beliefs and practices take form and change over time.

I really like the parallel you drew to the concept of religious trauma. MC primarily pulled away from her practice in attempt to get that nasty entity she accidentally summoned as a teen off her back, and sort of moved on like nothing ever happened. I think that the religious trauma parallel is a good comparison to what happened to her, but rather it being caused by an institution itself (for example, The Church), it was caused by her own lack of knowledge/research on the spell she was casting. I think she's on the right track to begin healing from her mistake, and now she knows to research before casting unfamiliar spells, and stay on top of protective magic!

NOW FOR TAE'S REVELATION! AHHH I'm so excited that I could keep you on your toes throughout the scene where he recounts what he had done! That scene was particularly tricky for me to write, and I revised it many times, so I'm glad that it had the sort of dizzying and uncertain pace that I was hoping for. Tae needed a big hug after that, and I'm glad MC gave it to him!

ANNND Namjoon too! I guess my love of shock value manifested itself into a fight scene, and making Namjoon into the instigator... You're right; he's always been suspicious of Tae, and definitely runs hot and cold. And on the other hand, "calculative" is one of the best ways I could describe wolf hybrid Joon. I think that he while he was flying off the handle in rage during the fight, he was still rather cold and cutting with his words, as if he hadn't considered the effect they'd have. I think because he is overly calculative, he can sometimes read a little too far into situations and get into his head, thus creating volatile or explosive emotions he cannot ultimately control.

So another reader had a similar theory that Namjoon reacted in this way because he was jealous or perhaps feeling the intense or instinctual need to protect MC from Taehyung. Though, when he turned his attention to MC and began taking it out on her, that shit was uncalled for. MC was already feeling a little insecure about her lack of knowledge when it comes to hybrids, so Namjoon inadvertently triggering that insecurity by calling her "stupid" cut her deep. She too, in the moment, believed that Namjoon truly felt that way about her, hence her breakdown. I like the connection you made to the outing with the hybrids when he suddenly grew distant and somewhat mean; perhaps this circles back to the jealousy he might feel (MC was surrounded by Yoongi, Tae, and 2Seok all paying her particular attention).

I also like your theory that Namjoon might have a hard time accepting that MC simply wants to give all of the hybrids, himself included, the opportunity to live safe, happy lives. I think the whole "spoiled rich girl" comment was something that just came to him, considering the significant sum she had handed over to adopt them all, the large house she lives in, etc. I think he said the first insulting thing he could think of in his blind rage-- but it is and interesting theory that he may be jaded towards those he perceives to be rich and spoiled, especially because we don't know too much about his past.

Because Namjoon's past is still a mystery, I love that you've come up with so many theories to fill in the gaps! The idea that he could be nervous about Taehyung being a fugitive because he himself is is an interesting theory! 🤔 It would certainly make sense for him to explosively react over the news of Taehyung perhaps attracting law enforcement to the house and in consequence, Namjoon himself... but for now, we simply don't know!

Jeongguk being the one to break up the fight was another twist to Chapter Seven. I'm sure not only MC, but readers as well were surprised to see bristly, avoidant Jeongguk get in the middle of those two, but I think he might have been the only one to do it successfully. Teaming up with Yoongi (who calmed MC down and then escorted Tae from the room), Jimin making her tea, and Seokjin staying with her while she fell asleep-- they all managed to put aside some of their smaller spats with each other in order to restore order in the home. I think at the end of the day, all of the hybrids are seeking a peaceful, happy environment to live in, so breaking up the fight was a priority to the others in the home. In future updates, we'll see how dynamics change and flourish between the housemates as time wears on and new situations crop up! 🤭

Final little note, for Seokjin-- he was indeed a performer for a circus, so the possibility of an accident involving fire happening to him is extremely likely! We still don't know how he was injured prior to his adoption, when MC picked him up from the shelter. Fire could definitely be included in his list of phobias that we know of (so far, we know that crowds are a phobia, for sure!)

THANK YOU thank you thank you for sending me another lovely message filled with your wonderful thoughts and theories, I truly enjoyed taking the time to read through them and reply as thoroughly as I could. I also thank you for reading and supporting Trouvaille and remembering so many little details tucked away in all of the chapters, it really made me so happy to discuss the story with you!! I hope you have a lovely week, are eating well, and staying healthy!! 🩷💓💗💘💖

[thecheckeredchaser]

A Summer Job

Ch 9

(Chapter 10 of 11)

A Most Luscious Rose

Rose plopped down on the bed with a plate of four slices of pizza, setting a bottle of soda on the table. Jason eyed her hungrily. He almost wished he had room to eat the pizza himself, which the thought crossing his mind only cemented how much of a pig he was to himself. Rita told him to start the recording, since they were going to edit the shit out of it. He thought she would be more choosy about how she was shown on camera. His molars were grinding together in anticipation. Maybe he was nervous too. He wasn’t piggybacking. It was his turn to be bad cop. He lifted a slice, and despite being too eager, he gently put the slice to her lips. He felt the electricity when her gorgeous teeth tore the pizza into her mouth and her lips closed it all in, aside from a small glob of sauce, that her tongue went back for. He felt the blood rush out of his face and to his groin. He blinked dazed. He wondered if she was purposefully being so dramatic, but didn’t want to accuse her based on her features alone. It made him think of Jessica Rabbit. Rita was just drawn…so fucking hot. But when he looked up at her, she had a satisfied sneaky look, that made him sure she was messing with him. Paired with her hand deep on his thigh, he was certain that he was still playing good cop, even with the roles reversed.

“Chub, you are already so excited. What’s all that about?” she said, accepting another big bite. He wanted to respond in a cool way for the video, but stammered, as he was really struggling with his building attraction.

“I uh, you’re just very beautiful Rose,” he said. Lame. Too honest. He looked at her and she didn’t seem as disappointed. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, just being himself. “And as always your lips are my kryptonite.” He kissed her for a moment and then brought the slice back to her. “Clean it up,” he said, wanting to be more demanding than offering, but coming off soft again. Rita complied, taking three systematic bites to the crust’s edge. “Good girl,” he heard himself say. His eyes went wider than the big screen. They met Rita’s and she suddenly looked horny and eager to do what he said. “I hope you enjoyed your dinner. You could have gone harder. Maybe you were being shy,” he strung the lines together as they came into his mind.

“I enjoyed it just fine. I had a little more self control in front of others.” She didn’t have to say ‘than you’, because she gave a firm tap on his belly. The sound of which was clearly that of a stuffed belly and his grunt further exemplified that. “I was worried there wouldn’t be enough for a pig like you.” He was shocked at how easily she could just tease him. She hardly thought about it.

“Well I appreciate your sacrifice. Hope this makes up for it. How are you feeling?” he said, passing her the crust. “Besides over the moon for stuffed crust,” he said, noticing the glimmer in her eye. She giggled.

“I feel nice. My stomach does feel a little full. But I can finish this little snack easily.” He reached out and felt her belly through her shorts. He wanted to undo them, but having been there, he knew sometimes you had to ease into it. He made an audible “Oh” as he felt her up, beginning to worry that he might get too excited, if he lingered too much. He went to pull his hand away, feeling the forbidden lamp’s flame burn too bright, but she put it back.

“That feels nice,” she moaned, maybe for effect or show, but maybe she was genuine. Jason readjusted his seated position but managed to continue. He brought her another slice and she started chomping at it faster, making little sounds.

“I bet it does. Your belly is so gorgeous, especially when you fill it up. I can’t wait to see it a little bigger.” he placed his hands on the sides of her and attempted to picture it as Rita had to him.

“Just a little,” she baited. His face blazed.

“I don’t want to ask for too much,” he said, proud of the quip.

“You sure about that,” she said, with a wink, making him think of the events next door. She was just better at this than him. What would she do if she was bested?

“Here drink this,” he said, handing her the two liter bottle. “You are doing more talking than eating.”

“No cup?” she said coyly.

“That’s still talking. Just be a good girl and listen,” he said a little sharper. Rita’s eyes lowered and she complied. “That’s better,” he said cocky. She seemed to chug it in an effort to show her own power in the moment. He put his hands to her belly and felt it expand, as well as himself. She finally lowered the bottle and gasped for breath. She swallowed hard and Jason wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew if he chugged that much he’d be burping like a gaseous pig. She put her fist to her mouth for a moment, but no sound came out.

“More,” she said firmly, but after seeing Jason’s face as he struggled for the steering wheel, she corrected, “please Chub.”

“You will certainly grow that tiny belly of yours if you keep this up. Also just hanging around a fat pig like me, it’s bound to rub off.” He slapped his own gut and watched her get weak. “You almost look like you are scared to get so big yourself. Yet you look so fascinated. Probably because you know I’m just starting.” A moan escaped her lips. Check, he thought.

“You want this crust,” she offered him, sounding less demanding. Jason looked at her and could see she wanted him to pretty badly.

"I can tell you're dying for me to say yes. But you ask, even though you know I'm packed full. You're very bad Rose," he said, disciplinary.

"Just a little stuffed crust," she pleaded, "Nothing for a hog like you," she said with scandalous eyes at him. Jason groaned, and started munching on the crust after handing her the next slice, one remaining on the pan. He had told himself he was too full to eat another bite, but the 4 needed for the crust seemed inconsequential when he saw how hot it made Rita. The pressure in his cock was far more encouraging than the discouraging stress on his stomach. Jason reached out and squeezed her belly, as she finished the slice she had been tearing to shreds. He shouldn’t have been surprised when a burp grogged out of her mouth, a delicate hand shielding her mouth. He was momentarily speechless. Despite all the attention that was given to Jason surrounding his burping, he had never heard Rita do it. She was a prime example for poise and ladylikeness in that regard, if one ignored how irreverent she could be with words. She looked a bit surprised herself, and a little bashful.

“I see the appeal I guess,” he said, growling in his words a little. He reached at his crotch, attempting to smother the fire burning, but his contact only made it worse.

“I’m not sure about finishing it,” she admitted, looking a little pained.

“It was a little snack seconds ago, Rose.” She whimpered.

“I talk a big game sometimes.” She watched his hands as they circled her belly. The satisfied moans layered under the uncomfortable winces. Jason wanted to tell her they could stop there, it was the nice guy thing to do. But he looked down and was pressing the final slice to her lips, and despite how full she was feeling, her lips parted again.

“I know you can do it. Think about how much more delicious this will look on your belly.” She squirmed and Jason observed how her shorts button was pulling tight across her middle. He couldn’t resist it now. “These shorts have to be killing you.” He popped the button out the hole, with a single push of his thumb, and had to fist fight his arousal at her gasp of relief.

“Fuck those were tight, Chub,” she exclaimed, thankful. With her belly exposed through her opened shorts, he couldn't stop himself from feeling her soft and tender skin.

“You have such a gorgeous body.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her to even see her finish the slice to the crust. He only peeled his eyes away when she burped again after some heavy breaths, her whine that followed, reeling him in. “You sound like me,” he said, hotly.

“I can’t do anymore. Seriously,” she said, sounding as she said. He wanted to believe her, but knew all too well there was a margin between where the brain thought the body had enough, and he was tempted to flirt with it.

“How about just one more bite,” he encouraged, looking right into her slightly scared eyes. He put a comforting hand on the top of her little bloated belly. “You want it. I can tell.” She slowly nodded and took the crust from him. He desperately watched her take a large bite, closing her eyes as she chewed. He saw that instant of pleasure when she saw she could do what she said she couldn’t. He was absolutely hypnotized by her. He hadn’t even been fully functioning when she forced the rest of the crust into his own mouth. He chewed with stuffed cheeks, looking at her both highly aroused and surprised.

“You win the blue ribbon,” she said, cheekily. She got up, a bit strained, and turned the camera off. Jason fought to get his shorts unbuttoned, absolutely yearning for Rita. “I couldn’t eat anything else,” she stated, “Well, besides maybe one thing.” She got on her knees, letting her belly take the space between his legs. Her elbows propped her shoulders up, pressing into the sides of his belly both uncomfortably and tantalizingly.

None of that mattered when her lips made their way to the base and beyond. “Fucking hell,” he uttered, exasperated. He had been throbbing for the past half hour, so he was more than happy to count the feeding session as concrete foreplay. Despite being so full, she hungrily slurped all over him, driving him to the edge. He squirmed under her in anticipation. She pulled off momentarily, panting. He watched her chest heave over him and yanked at her tank top. “Someone’s a super greedy pig, huh? Wants to finish with these big tits in his face.” He could only helplessly nod. Rita stripped in seconds and lowered herself onto him, placing his hands on her chest. He eagerly pinched and pulled at her nipples. His stomach was too bloated to bend up to suck them like he wanted to, but she seemed satisfied, crying out each time he pulled and released it to jiggle against her body. Jason wanted a better look at her wetness on his rock hard cock. He propped himself on his elbows, craning his neck a little to see over his gut. His belly pushed more firmly into where their bodies met in his lap. Rita, reached for her lips and spread them open gasping as his belly was now rubbing and jiggling on her clitoris. She picked up her pace as she rode him, and when he heard her shrieks, he felt himself let go of his desire to last.

They lay a crumpled and satisfied pile in the bed. “Should have recorded that,” Jason said smuttily. Rita nudged him but laughed. They fell asleep cradling the other’s belly lovingly. All things considered, it was a very good date.

Ch 11

[tinymoonrider]

Closed

Summary: A baker of a neighborhood bakery suffers an accident and starts to feel uneasy wherever they go. Is it just paranoia and fear that's warping their brain into thinking there's something scary lurking around? Or is something very sinister waiting for them just around the corner?

Warnings: Violence, gas lighting, fear, paranoia, obsession, depression, lots of creepy elements, yandere themes, blood, no one believes the main character :(

The main character is gender neutral. :)

As soon as I arrived at my bakery, I started to prep for the morning rush that would soon ensue. I washed and cut all of the fruits I had brought with me for lemonades and smoothies, started on the dough for the breads, cookies, and pastries. The radio softly played some relaxing music as I danced around the kitchen in the back. Swaying my hips and lip singing along to the lyrics, I started to shape the dough into fun shapes and popping them into the oven. Next I had started on the cremes, meringues, and custards. Grabbing a couple of lemons, I started to prep the lemonade as I waited for the pastries. As the music started to pick up I started to get bolder with my moves, swaying from side to side and shaking my shoulders. I pass by the entrance towards the front where the cash register is to see a somewhat sweaty man watching me smiling. I feel heat rise to my face upon making eye contact with him. I offer a small awkward wave, rushing to close the radio and towards the front where the man was.

"Hi, sorry about that... Got a little lost in the music..." I giggle, hoping to ease the tension a little bit. He smiles and nods.

"Don't worry about it, I do the same thing a lot... It was cute." I take his order and start working on it, still feeling a bit embarrassed from before. As I wait for his coffee to brew, I quickly fry and glaze a doughnut for him. Even though he never asked for it, I still think he'd really appreciate it. Packaging his order up, I quickly handed it to him and thanked him for stopping by. He flashes a soft smile and sneaks a peak into the brown bag I handed to him.

"Thanks!" He slips a piece of paper through the slot in the locked tip box and winks at me, "I'll come back tomorrow if you're open." He continues on with his day and so do I.

--

I flip the sign closed and start cleaning up for the day. I try to rush myself, excited to see what he had written for me. I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it. Starting in the kitchen, and slowly moving my way to the dining area, I bus tables and clean the floors. On the only clean looking table in the whole dining area, a Polaroid picture of the bakery sits.

Confused, I took the Polaroid from the table. I examined the picture closer, noticing more and more as I kept looking it over. Someone had taken a picture of the bakery earlier this morning. You can just barely make out my figure inside from the window. The yellow orange light reflected in the clear windows. Red ink scribbles out the figure of the runner from earlier, who is standing at the counter while I'm taking his order. In the picture, in the white area it's labeled with today's date and presumably the time the picture was taken in thin black ink. Next to it, is the pound symbol with the number nine next to it in thicker red ink.

A feeling of unease crawls up my spine. It's then that I feel like someone is watching me with such intensity. I look around, and peer outside the large glass windows into the dark. In the distance, across the street, near the empty parking lot, I could make out a figure lurking just under a dim street lamp light. The figure walks forward to try and get a better look at me, but it soon backs away into the void. They were watching me this whole time. Waiting for the right time to strike.

"...They're gone..." I rush over to the phone behind the counter and call the police. The officer who responded almost sounds like they just woke up. A deep, gravely voice grunts on the other end. A bothered voice snaps at me to get on with. After explaining my situation, without hard evidence they informed me in a very robotic and scripted response that, "they unfortunately can't do much about it". The officer tells me to go home and to get some rest. Informing me that if anything suspicious were to happen, I would need to call again and they'd send someone over.

"M'am, you're most-likely just hallucinating. Why don't you go home, get some rest and see how you feel tomorrow morning.-"

"I swear I saw someone. You have to believe me..." My head snaps towards the window, I scan the parking lot searching for the figure in the dim light. The only thing there that I could see, was my car. I parked it under the dim yellow light at the end of the lot. Although the light barely provided any safety from what lurked just beyond, it made me feel better.

"M'am," the officer took a deep breath, "I'm going to need you to do as I say and not give me attitude. I'm just trying to help you with what you think you saw." On the other end, I can hear the rough scratching of the pen against paper, "Now please get off the damn line. A real emergency might be trying to call in and I can't help them if you're still hoggin' up the line." The officer hangs up on me before I can argue.

Getting to my car was a difficult task. The lot was across the street and my car was at the edge of the lot where the light was brightest. Just between the lot and the shop was the main road that connected all of the other shops and stores in the plaza. Taking a deep breath I quickly wrapped everything up in the shop. Grabbing the leftover goods from my display case, I packed them up and made sure to grab the tips from the tip jar. Tucking the note into my jacket pocket, I made sure the lock was secure as I had left my store. Looking both ways, I started the journey towards my car.

Pulling out my phone, I got ready for the emergency call option and started sped up. Glancing behind me, I see the same figure from before carefully dodging the light. They pulled their baseball cap down to cover their eyes and face as they continued trailing behind me, picking up his pace as well. I started jogging towards my car, the distance never felt so wide, my heart threatening to tear through my chest. As the footsteps behind me get faster, I start to get more frantic. I search for the keys in my bag, sprinting at this point, I unlock the car and bee-line for the drivers seat.

Just as I'm about to open the door, the figure slams me against the car door. Twisting my arm, my phone falls out of my hand. The figure brings the barrel of a gun to my head, the cool metal bringing shivers to my skin. The figure behind me grunts and checks my pockets for money. His hands frantically search my pockets, a deep growl emits from it. Instead of searching my bag like I thought he would after coming up empty handed, he instead rips the note from my pocket, the keys from my hands and throws me against the pavement. My head violently connects with the ground, I feel disoriented, my vision blurring. The only thing that registers is the sound of my car pulling away from its spot and speeding off into the night.

I'm left on the floor, bleeding and crying.

Where did I go wrong?

--

The next few months were calm but difficult. I needed to get stitches after that night. I had to close the bakery for the following couple of days too. When I did finally reopen, I closed early, refusing to close during the late night hours, when the risk of less people and less light providing me safety from people like them. Fortunately, from that day I was attacked, I hadn't found any other pictures around the store.

Unfortunately, the feeling of being watched didn't leave me. It would hang heavily in the morning when I'd be alone and when I would decide to close. And although I didn't find any pictures, I did find notes. The notes were tame at first. Complementing the food, drinks, or service in the bakery. Then it started getting a little flirty. Complementing how I looked and different parts about me that I never even liked about myself. Soon they got darker. It would go into great detail of the different things they wanted to do to me. How they wanted to do it and where. Some even went into detail of how they thought I'd react. How I'd sound and look while they did it. When I started ignoring the notes I was getting, they found ways to get me to acknowledge the notes. Clothing that was definitely used and was definitely put into the laundry, would appear in the bakery and sometimes on my car. Things I remember going missing. I assumed they were eaten by the washing machine like my socks. What was weirder, they were inside the store that I had remembered locking up. I'd usually find them behind the counter or sometimes on the floor of the kitchen. Something, which resembled the consistency of glue, would stain my shirt and underwear.

I called the police many times. Many, many, many, many, many times. I even went down to the station once with the notes and dirty articles of clothing. They couldn't find any fingerprints other than my own. The dirty articles of clothing were dry, the white substance drying and soaking into the fabric. They told me they couldn't properly make out the DNA from it. They weren't even sure that the substance that each article of clothing was doused in, contained DNA. It was a waste of time for them. Eventually they stopped listening to me, sometimes going as far as kicking me out and driving me back home. Each and every time they'd kick me out, forcing the notes and clothes into my hands, I'd leave the station in tears. I wondered what I could do to prove the case I was bringing in.

Soon I went to see a therapist. I needed advice for what was going on and what I could do. I asked them for advice on what I should do and how I should keep myself safe. After talking to them, I realized that, if anything, they were worse than the police. He told me that I was just paranoid and obsessed with trying to find the person who attacked me. That it wasn't my fault and that I should just let it go and move on with my life. They suggested, after I had insisted that the notes were coming from someone trying to harm me, that the notes were probably written by someone trying to play a prank on me. That I should just keep them somewhere safe and ignore it for now. As for the clothes, the PTSD of being attacked that night caused me to start sleep walking, despite having no history of such a problem, that I was just doing some sort of "unconscious self sabotage". I stopped seeing him after that first visit.

I was tired and just wanted everything to stop. The feeling of being watched started to feel, almost normal. Walking around the bakery, trying to mind my own business, I could feel the pair of eyes following my every movement. I should really invest in some blinds...

Jake, the runner I had met the morning I was attacked, had become a regular at the shop. I enjoyed his presence as he'd stick around until someone else would walk in. Every now and then he'd even help out around the back. Despite never telling him, it seemed as though he knew just how stressed I was. How paranoid I had felt when I was alone. It seemed like he wanted to help me but just didn't really know how. I wanted to tell him everything, maybe he could help. But maybe he'll just think you're crazy too. He won't help you. He'll think you're just a burden.

Just before I was about to lock the door for that day, Jake decided to drop by a second time that day, a grin on his face as he walked in. This time around, he was dressed more formally, in a blue undershirt and black tie with matching pants instead of his usual running gear. He mentioned he had gotten off work from somewhere. My mind was too busy with other thoughts to really pay attention to what he was talking about. Little sounds around the store and especially in the back put me on edge. My eyes flicker around the room, the noises getting louder and louder ringing in my ears. I catch the pair of eyes staring at me through the window. The featureless face pressed against the glass, hot puffs of air fog up the window... I wanted to scream.

"So what do you think?" My head snaps at him, eyes wide and heavy. They feel like acid was just poured into the sockets.

"What...?" His eye brows furrowed.

"It-" He lets out a sigh, "It's alright..." He takes a rag out of my hand and starts cleaning the tables, "Let me help you close. You seem like you need some rest..." I nodded and started cleaning as well. By the time we were both done, my knees buckled under my own weight. Exhaustion ate away at my mind and chest. My eyelids felt heavy, I felt like I was going to black out. Jake ran over to my side, picking me up off the floor, he placed me onto a table and held me up by the shoulders. "Hey, hey, Sweets, you alright?" He leaned forward to get a better look at my face. His warm breath fanned against my lips.

He checked over me and placed his hand on my forehead. He sighed and lifted my head up so I would be facing him, my eyes wouldn't focus.

"Sweets, how about I drive you home today? I don't think you should be driving in this condition..." He rummaged through my pockets in search of my keys. After grabbing them he places a quick kiss on my forehead and goes outside to pull the car around.

--

A couple of weeks later.

I walk into my apartment, flipping on the lights, I throw my stuff down onto the couch. I dropped my keys somewhere next to me and I headed towards my kitchen for a drink. Standing on my tip-toes, I reach for a wine glass on the top shelf in a cupboard. Carefully slipping it off the shelf I catch it between my hands only to see a piece of paper glide down to the floor in front of me. The paper looks like it was torn out of a notebook. The paper seems like it was stained in blood. A dark red stain causes the corner of the page to stiffen and curl in on itself. Thick red ink scrawls something illegible on the paper. Top to bottom it's covered in letters. I hesitate to pick it up, my heart rate sky-rocketing. My breaths increase. My grip tightens against the neck of the glass as I bend down to pick up the paper. It looks exactly like all of the other notes I've been getting. Only they've never shown up in my apartment. My hands are unsteady as I look over the paper. The ink is thick and blotted onto the page. My name was written all over the paper. Over and over and over and over again. It was like someone tried to write as neatly as they possibly could with shaky hands.

On the back of the page, in black ink, a giant heart circled my initials and the initials of a "JH". I silently dropped the paper in the trash. The therapist was probably right... Desperate to not entertain the idea, I continued on with my original objective.

Maybe they were right. It was all in my head. The notes were written by me. Days of interrupted sleep and insomnia paired with paranoia are all getting to me. I've been gas lighting myself into believing someone would be willing to go through all of this trouble just to freak me out.

I dropped the wine glass in my hand, my brain not registering it shattering against the tiled floor. I went further into my kitchen, swiping a wine bottle from the pantry and ripping out the cork stopper, I threw my head back, taking a couple of swigs. The bitter warmth slides down my throat and spreads across my chest. The burning swigs turn into a pleasurable numbing sensation that soon turns into a buzzing one. After I completely empty the bottle, I head over to my room. Thanks to the wine, I didn't notice the glass getting lodged into my feet as I made my way to my room. I stopped caring. I stopped worrying. It was easier this way. No one would believe me anyway. No one cares.

Without turning on the lights, I plop onto the bed face first, drifting off to sleep. If only I turned on the lights that night. Maybe then I would've at least seen him, standing there, watching as I drifted off. Waiting for the right moment to take me away. Forever. Still soaked in Jake's blood, hands caressing my cheek, the blood smearing against my face. A warm sensation that I believed to just be a product of the wine.

Not that it mattered anymore. No one believes me anyway. No one will care. At least this way, I'll stop bothering people... Stop being a waste of time.

This way... It doesn't matter.

[thelightlyusedlibrary]

My take on the prompt below the cut. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated as I've recently started writing again after a long break and I'm rusty!

My footsteps echoed off the tile as I walked down the brightly lit hallway. The wing I had been directed to was sparsely decorated and seemed to consist solely of offices and classrooms. Passing the line of closed doors I began to rethink accepting Mr. Jones’ offer. 

Sure he was promising enough money to pay off my debts but was the risk really worth it? I still didn’t know where he wanted me to go or what I was supposed to do. Before I could change my mind and leave I made it to Jones’ office. Taking a deep breath and shaking off my nerves, I knocked on the door.

“Just a moment,” there was shuffling and a small thud before Jones appeared, “Ah, Mr. Williams, please come in.” He stepped back, pulling the door open as he went. 

His office was a stark contrast to the hall outside. There were floor to ceiling shelves along the wall across from the door and picture frames lined the others. Near the back wall stood a sturdy looking desk surrounded by plants and filing cabinets. On top of one of them was a film projector pointed straight ahead at the only blank wall. 

“Please take a seat,” Mr. Jones said gesturing to the comfortable looking chairs in front of his desk. I sat down and let out a gasp when the chair turned under me.

“Ah,”Jones laughed under his breath, “pardon me. I forgot to warn you the chairs swivel. I do hope you can forgive my thoughtlessness.” There was a glint in his eye as he spoke as if he found the whole thing to be hilarious.

“Uh, yeah , sure,” I said. Jones chuckled to himself as he sat behind the desk and pulled out a folder.

“Anyway, I asked you here today because I’ve been told you have access to a Jump Watch.” He arched his brow and I tried my best to keep my reaction natural.

“As I told you over the phone, I have all the tools I need to do the job at hand.” I paused for a moment, “ That is if you would tell me what the job was.”

He starred me down for a moment before standing and crossing the room the the panel of switches by the door. He flipped one and a white screen came down, covering the blank wall, before he flipped the other leaving the room in the dim light of the lamp on the desk. Returning to his seat, he opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a reel of film. I watched as he put the film into the projector and set it in motion. 

Turning to the screen I watched as footage that shouldn’t exist began to play. A team of people carving a massive block of stone while an unfinished pyramid stood behind them. There was a click and the scene changed to a Roman sporting event. Another click brought the chaos of the French Revolution. Click after click historical events played out in front of me. Finally the picture faded out and I was left staring at the flickering light as the projector still spun. 

How did he find people willing to get this footage for him and what happened to the guy that did it before me? A million other question swirled through my mind as I tried to wrap my head around what I’d just seen. Jones busied himself putting the film away, letting me have time to process. The sounds of shuffling died out and a small chuckle shattered the fragile silence we had fallen into.

“I have to say your reaction is quite a first for me, Mr. Williams,” he said as I pulled myself out of my thoughts, “Normally, the Jumpers that make it to an in person interview are excited for an easy job.” He was amused. This man had who knows how much footage of events before the invention of the modern camera, on film reels hidden in his desk, and he was amused. 

“How many people have you had actually make a jump?” I asked trying not to let my voice waver.

Jones sat back in his chair and folded his hands on his stomach, “Well at first it was my research partner. We were young and didn’t fully understand the dangers of time travel so he did it himself. We were doing quite well for ourselves until the day he came back from a Jump to the Paleolithic Period injured.” He paused, a far off look in his eye, then laughed under his breath, “I remember him telling me that he thought it wasn’t too bad but when he jumped back it felt like someone had taken a hot knife to his wound. We rushed to the hospital of course but they were able to treat him in time and he died of blood loss on the operating table.” 

Jones was silent for a while and I watched as his relaxed posture stiffened. 

“I didn’t attempt another entry in the project for a good five years before I found the job board I found you through,” he gestured to me,” The man I hired worked with me for a few months before he quite calming it was too taxing on his mind. After him, I found someone who I would consider a friend. She worked with me up until six months ago when she too died to an injury sustained on a jump.” He sighed and leaned forward onto his desk, “I’ve been interviewing potential Jumpers since then but no one seems to want the job after meeting with me.”

That sent a chill down my spine. Where could he be asking people to go that would make them turn down the amount of money he was offering?

“So what would this job entail?”

Jones shifted the folder in front of him to my side of the desk and nodded his head, “Everything I would need you to do is in that folder but I’ll walk through it with you.”

Slowly I slide it to me and flipped the cove open. Inside was a stack of documents much larger than I was expecting. Leafing through them I could make out dates and places on each one. Each jump was numbered, reaching far into the 50s and I was starting to wonder how long Jones expected me to work for him before I received the full payment. Pushing those thoughts aside, I turned back to the first page and gave it a once over.

The date was the 30th of May, 1431, the execution of Joan of Arc. I looked up at Jones and weighed my options. On one hand I could work for him and jump through time filming events and potentially get myself killed or traumatized but I’d have enough money to finally turn my life around. On the other I could say no, walk out of here, and completely forget about Mr. Jones and his project. Sure I’d be going back to a life of debt and just barely scraping by but at least I’d be unscathed. Jones seemed to deflate as I thought through my options but I had made my choice.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat, “what footage do you want me to get?”

Time travel exists, but is dangerous and unreliable. Museums turn to people like you, black market “jumpers” willing to risk it all.

[shattersstar]

bound

pairing: vampire x reader

summary: He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired. It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

warning: horror-ish elements, blood mention., religious undertones (aka general vampire themes/concepts)

a/n: i have so much to say about this lil piece of writing omg okay, i wrote this back in May i believe around the time i was reading we have always lived in the castle and it Shows. its lowkey fantasy which is not like anything i write but the horror-ish vibes r pretty consistent with my original stuff. it is heavily inspired by a lot of the vampire media ive consumed too though even if its not based on one particular character. i have been thinking about it since i wrote it and while im a bit ehhh about posting something original i quite literally have nothing else to share and as i said before y’all keeping i’d still eat the fruit in my notifs is so :)))) so this is a thank you to y’all and a Step back into writing for me hopefully. ramble aside enjoy ! feedback and comments r always appreciated

—

It had rained, no—poured, stormed, hailed, cried, screamed. It had swept in during the day, white noise to him as he slept, while it greeted you during breakfast. The clouds wept over the lands in what felt like divine punishment. It was as if nature or something higher than that was against him, accosting or trying to stop him. As he stood at the edge of the great forest, rain pelting the top of his head he assumed there was nothing greater than nature. Not even him. There was nothing higher nor more humbling. God could spite someone, but nature enacted it. It flooded your sleepy town and even sleepier forest and he was on the other side. Confined to his home until the storm cleared and the sun rose.

He would not be graced with your presence yet again and he tried to ignore the call to change you, to have his fangs pierce your skin and his blood run across your tongue. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself of the hurt it brought and he would never cause that for his love. His dearest who lived on the other side of the forest he was unable to cross. His icy glare moved along the border, not even noticing the rain drenching his billowing black cloak anymore. Somewhere in the forest a branch snapped and animals chattered.

He would live for eternity, he could wait for you. It was his resolution before heading back to his home in the woods and trying not to be angry, to let fury run through his long dead veins and restart his stilled heart. If anything—anyone—could, he knew it was you.

He followed the path compacted over the years of those travelling to stare at his home, humans daring each other to go near it, but never following through when the windows shuddered and a figure moved past one of them like a ghost. Times had changed, but people were as superstitious as ever. They saw his decayed and rotted home and prescribed evil to it. It was overrun with vines, leaves would not grow on them. Even in spring. They stayed black, and gnarled, tightening their hold in his house each season. Thorns protruding from some of the thicker vines, protecting him it seemed. You had noted that, staring at his wondrous home with bright eyes.

It was in a clearing in the forest, grey stone withered away and swallowed by nature. It still stood strong, the outside a grotesque picture that did not reflect the inside. Oil lamps and lighting fixtures alike lit the space from the inside out. It warmed the walls, revealing the deep brown wood panelling that made up the older parts of the house. The stairs were still the original wood, a grand staircase that greeted no one, but him and you these days.

Many of the rooms upstairs had been closed off, sheets gently placed over the old furniture and doors closed forever. He had no need for such space, other vampires stopped visiting when hunters started lingering in your town. You had told him of your many encounters, most were smart enough to stay out the forest, but they still killed many of his kind. Finding them in their carriages amongst the cars rolling down the freshly paved roads. Horses killed along with whoever dwelled inside. They saw themselves as vigilantes, but you had told him most of your town considered them a nuisance. Urban men thinking they can save the more rural lands that bordered their great cities. Cities that forgot the magic that once thrived in places like the forest.

“Their thinking of building a highway through it, connecting us to other towns or one of the bigger cities.” You had explained one day, sitting in his lap and letting him hold you. He hummed, long fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. You placed your warm hand over his and leaned further into his chest. He asked you to let him hold you and you had obliged like always.

He kept those memories in mind, the soft questions he would extend your way and how you listened so dutifully. May I hold you? Will you lay with me? Come walk through the cellar? Can I drink your—

His fist slammed against his dinning room table, nearly snapping it in two as a crack ran jagged through the centre of the chestnut coloured wood. His fangs were out, nails morphed into claws dug into his skin and blood dripped into the crack. He stared at it, muscles in his face twitching as he waited for it to end. Waited for the creature in him to return to laying dormant and his own clear, sound mind to return. Though he supposed it was never very clear or sound anymore, not when you had burrowed inside of him and promised to never leave. And as if his thoughts beckoned you themselves, the old telephone in his study rang. It’s shrill scream echoed through the quiet house, though the ring was discordant, snapping in two halfway through its loop and screeching a pitch higher. The noise made his pointed ears twitch and with a swoop of his cloak he was in his study. He answered it on the normal ring, cutting it off right before it went off tone.

He held the phone to his ear, but waited to speak. “Hello?” You asked, your voice soft and worried. You’d never called him before—truthfully he had no idea this phone even worked.

“Hello my love.” He returned, and you breathed out a happy sigh.

“Oh my god, hi! I found this number in some old directory—phone book thing,” You explained with an airy giddiness that he wished to share, “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but…” You trailed off and he was smiling fondly into the receiver.

“I have missed you.”

“I miss you too, I hate this weather I can never get through the forest when its so rainy.”

“I know.”

“Maybe they should build a highway through it, I could hitchhike my way to see you.” You laughed, but he turned somber. Industrialization finally touching the sacred land of the forest didn’t sit right within him. It may be the great divider that kept him away from you, but it was his home. A highway felt like you were asking to be swept away, to a new town or bigger city that he could not adventure too. He could ask you to stay—he knew you’d oblige—but it was not his place to keep you here. “Is your phone one of those spin, dial ones?” You asked suddenly, breaking through the tension he hadn’t meant to create.

“A rotary phone?” He corrected with a ghost of a grin, “Yes it is.”

“I want to see it when I come over again.”

“And so you will.” It was quiet again and he hadn’t noticed the tears running down his face. He didn’t know he was able to cry anymore.

“I love you.” You whispered, holding your cellphone close, likely curled up in bed and staring out your window at the rain and the forest beyond it.

“I love you dearest.” His voice did not betray the sadness building in him. “Sleep beloved, I will see you soon.”

“Yes, I’m gonna come see you and your rotary phone.” You laughed, forced and watery.

“Soon.”

“Soon.” You repeated, and hung up. He kept the black phone, laced with intricate gold details, to his ear for a moment longer. He had heard your voice at least and could sleep. He moved through his home, snuffing out candles and flicking off switches before finding the one room without windows. A coffin laid on the floor, dark brown and glistening with the finish that had been applied centuries ago.

He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired.

It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

Though it was hard to think of such evil things when looking at your face, he had taken the photo while you were on the roof. Wind had wiped your clothes into a frenzy and you laughed as the night sky twinkled behind you. He had taken it and was surprised when you’d given it to him only a few days later. He had kept up with modern technology as well as he could, but there was always something so magical about photographs to him. He collected hundreds over his life time, faces he knew and others he didn’t. Organized neatly into a collection of books, which he’d let you look through on occasion. He showed you photos from the many lives he’s lived, something about them bringing warmth rushing to your face.

He was always so devastatingly beautiful, regal and hypnotic across all eras. Yet, he couldn’t focus on the kind words that bubbled from your lips as the rushing of the blood under your skin nearly shattered something inside of him. His fangs threatened to meet your skin, but with calculated focus he reigned in his hunger. It was hard at first—you were the only human he had been around in decades—but he did it for love.

Everything he did was for love, it was his reason for existence it seemed. You had other reasons for your claim to life, but to him? You were all he had, the only reason to not let the sun engulf him or let a hunter kill him. He could not break your heart until you broke his. He let that thought dwell in his mind as sleep overtook him just as the sun rose and the rain ended. Its incessant pitter patter had ceased and he somehow dreamt of you standing golden in the forest and beckoning him closer.

He woke up to your face—maybe it wasn’t a dream—as you crouched next to his coffin. Maybe he had finally died and you were welcoming him to where God decided to send him. If you were there it couldn’t be hell. Could it be?

“My love—“ Your hand pressed to his chest, keeping him still. “It’s still daytime, sleep okay?” You whispered, hand moving to his jaw and cradling his face in your palm for a moment. “I’ll be back in a sec okay, I just need to change.” He nodded against you, kissing your hand before you let him reside in darkness. He had caught a glimpse of your pants caked in mud and could smell the blood from your skinned palms. Despite the slick terrain it seemed you ventured through the forest to see him. It made his chest shudder and for a moment he thought you had actually restarted his heart.

It was only a few minutes later when you were carefully opening his coffin again, now dawning a loose fitting silk shirt that made his red eyes alight with something wild. You had cleaned your scrapes and mud off your skin, smelling faintly of rain water and the lavender soap you gifted him. You stepped over him, nestling against his side and letting him enclose the two of you. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your head rested on his chest, knuckles grazing over your hair while you stretched an arm across his torso. Your legs intertwined with his long ones and you let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, and while you likely couldn’t see as thing, he could see you perfectly. You shook your head no against his chest, yawning into the fabric of his shirt.

“I just wanted to see you.” You murmured, chin resting in his chest as you made hit best attempt at eye contact in the blackness. “I saw the dining room table, are you okay?” You asked, somehow staring through him in the darkness. He offered his hand instead of finding the words in his throat, slowly unravelling his fist to reveal a mark free palm. He wasn’t sure you understand what he meant or if your eyes adjusted enough yet, until you carefully closed it once again, kissing his knuckles and placed your hand over his. You both were silent for a moment, until you looked up at him again and breathed, “You’re all I want.”

“And you’re all I have.” He held you closer, watching a grin pull at the corner of your lips. He was sure it was that devotion, obsession even, with you that would bring about his downfall. Centuries old and all powerful, but reduced to nothing without you. His strength and knowledge meant nothing if he didn’t have you to share it with.

And you could not stand your stagnant life in a town full of people who wished his kind dead. You chose a trek through the forest during the twilight hours of the morning to see him, bringing him soft kisses and silk under his hands as you let your mouth meet his. You kissed him with all the exhaustion and lethargy wrapped up in the two of you, molasses slow kisses that were just as sweet. It was how you fell asleep, lips to his neck and head tucked under his chin before your warm breathed puffed across his pale skin. He fell asleep not long after, engulfing you in his embrace, his cloak draping over your frame as he decided home was where you asked him to be.

[strobinbaby]

SLEEPLESS

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: mature content ahead! [ phone sex; dirty talk; masturbation; pet names: sweetheart, baby; ] minors dni!!

summary: eddie has a wet dream, which makes him hard and he calls for a help to release the tension

a/n: eddie’s pov!! enjoy! 

latest work / masterlist

any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated!

I woke up from a dream, a nasty fucking dream, about her riding my cock as we sat sprawled on the sofa. My notebook with an unfinished song sat next to me, I might have fallen asleep while figuring out the future lyrics to the next single for our shitty band. The curtains hung closed, but the room bathed in a dim light from a bedside lamp.

Rubbing my eyes I glanced at the watch, it said 11 pm. My cock was aching and I desperately needed a release. I was hoping with everything I had she wasn’t asleep. Grasping my stationary phone, I rolled the numbers, coiling the wire around my finger in anticipation, listening to the dial tone. 

“Hello?” her sweet murmur enveloped me through the phone call. I wanted nothing, but to bury myself into her and inhale her and touch and fuck her until she forgot her damn name.

“Hello sweetheart,” I rasped, feeling the stir in my cock as the reminders of her boobs bouncing in front of my face as she lifted her up and down repeatedly flooded my mind, “Are you alone?”

“I—,” she hesitated, “I am, but my sister is in the next room. What’s wrong?”

“I need you to help me to take care of, uh—“

“Damn you, Eddie.”

“Come on, baby,” my voice was still scratchy from my sleep and I made it lower beckoning her to indulge, “Touch yourself.” Her breaths turned uneven, I could hear her sigh, shifting on her bed. I thought of her taking her panties off with a wet little stain right in the middle of it.

“I’m so wet, Eddie—“ her strangled moan let me know that her hand darted between her legs.

I grunted softly, holding the handset in my palm, my other hand slipped inside my boxers stroking my flushed cock, trying to release the tension.

“Fuck, I wish you were here, straddling my lap,” I hissed, pressing the head of my cock, closing my eyes, focusing my attention on her breathy whimpers, “I wanna feel you rubbing your hot little pussy against me.” 

She slipped two fingers inside her soaking cunt, fucking herself in a slow steady pace. I let myself picture it in my mind, my cock jerked and I bit back a groan.

“You were in my dream,” I breathed out, squeezing my balls, clutching the handset in between my ear and my shoulder, dragging my underwear to my ankles, kicking it off, “Naked, riding me, hot and needy.”

“Mmm,” she whimpered, probably arching her hips to meet the movement of her hand, “Tell me more.”

“My hands gripped you hips, holding you tight against me, while I kissed your chest licking your nipples and sucking them in, until you turned into a crying mess.”

The air got too thick with desire, a phone call turned into a porn talk, but I couldn’t resist it, couldn’t resist her. It was her who showed up in my sleep after all.

“Eddie,” she moaned and I grunted, seizing my cock harder, stroking it faster, “Fuck, I want to see you jerking off so bad,” she whimpered and I gritted my jaws to prevent from moaning, delirious, feeling her tongue swirling over the head of my cock, lapping up the trickle that oozed from the tip.

“Just close your eyes, think of me laying next to you, watching your little fingers slip in and out of that tight little cunt of yours, while I fist my cock, kneading your boobs and listening to you moaning my name.”

She took a sharp inhale after I blurted this out, that what she did when she clenched up. She was close to coming.

“I want to hear you fucking yourself, baby.”

She brought her phone lower, so I could hear the squelching sound of her pussy as she thrusted her fingers, frantically flicking her clit with her thumb. She worked her hand faster, curling her toes against the sheets. Fuck, my cock throbbed, I was getting fucking drunk on her, my fingers grazed my balls and I let  out a low groan, the faint sound of her calling my name made me realise she was talking to me.

“I’m going to come,” she sobbed, aroused, flicking her clit relentlessly, “More, I need more.”

“I wish I could taste you right now, lick up all the mess you’re making, I wish those were my fingers you’re soaking right now, while you’re begging me to keep going and never stop.”

She gasped and cried, easing her knees together, riding her orgasm, “Oh, fuck Eddie.”

Her moaning my name triggered my own release, my cock jerked and I stilled, gritting my jaws and scrunching my nose at the sensation, while she still panted in my ear. My fist sloppily moved around the base and I felt cum rushing out to my stomach, “Jesus Christ.”

I let go, groaning loud this time, the sounds we made invaded my room and my damn mind.

“I love listening to you coming,” she admitted and I grinned to myself, giving my cock a few final strokes, closing my eyes and thinking of her, on her bed, just like this, naked, sweaty and slumberous.

“Are you gonna be here tomorrow? I could fuck you all day, then all night. Even when you milk me dry I could use my fingers on you. Your vibrator is still in my drawer, you know?”

She laughed lazily, “Okay, now will you let me sleep?”

“Not without a bedtime story.”

“You’ve gotten more than enough,” she patted back a yawn, “ Think of me by your side, goodnight, call you tomorrow.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

[scarletttries]

“Consider Me Your Sexy Alarm Clock” – Adrian Chase Smut

Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Warning: I’m putting a warning label on this one! This sexually explicit story features consensual sex in which the participants have agreed to being part of sexual acts while they are asleep. Everything here is pre-agreed, pre-established and consensual within a relationship, but if that is not appropriate for you to read then please take care of yourself and skip this one 😊

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: This quick story is not a request, it’s very much a self-indulgent piece of writing inspired by the amazing Adrian Chase NSFW Alphabet written by @nephilim-tears, who put Adrian’s kink as somnophilia, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are😊

“Consider Me Your Sexy Alarm Clock”

As Adrian trudged up the stairs to your shared apartment, he kept his steps deliberate and above all quiet. Coming home late from patrol used to bother him, having to return to a dark, empty place where he didn't really feel at home, but now he felt the joy of having you to come home to, appreciating how warm he felt knowing his bed wouldn't be empty when he crawled into it. He fit his key into the lock carefully, turning it slowly to keep any noise to a minimum, not wanting to risk waking you, knowing you would have settled down for the night by now. He shed his body armour slowly and carefully in your living room until he was down to his boxers, finally creeping down the corridor to your bedroom. And there you were, just as he pictured, lying on your back in one of his oversized t shirts, thin blanket covering your middle, a lamp left on low like you always did when you went to bed before he got home. He stood over the bed, trying to keep his breathing measured as he let his gaze run over you, an absolute sight to behold.

Your legs were slightly spread as you slept, and Adrian could just see the edge of your panties where you had kicked the blanket off on one side. He could feel himself hardening in his boxers at the feeling of watching you sleep, unaware of his leering gaze upon you. His manhood ached as listened to your soft breaths, watching your chest rise and fall under his stolen shirt. He knelt silently at the end of the bed, desperate instincts taking control as he leaned forward, gently pushing the blanket up your other leg, leaving your underwear completely exposed to him.

He paused for a minute making sure he hadn't woken you, and then as gently as he could, he trailed one fingertip over your cloth-covered clit. He gauged your reaction to his touch, watching your body tense and then relax, your legs unconsciously shifting apart to let him in. He smiled at your movement, running his finger gently over your sensitive bud again and again, watching the change in your breath, the movement of your chest at his touch. He played with you softly, feeling his own excitement building, desperately trying to stop his hips bucking against the bed in fear that it would wake you before he had brought you closer to the peak of your pleasure. Adrian had to stifle a moan as he saw a wet patch spreading across your panties, your own excitement building at his touch, while still asleep. He gently lifted his finger away to push your underwear to the side, handling you with the careful precision he usually saved for deadly weapons. Again, waiting a beat to make sure he hadn't stirred you, he slowly slid one finger between your folds, feeling like he might cum in his pants as you let out a soft gasp in your sleep. You were already so wet for him, it made it so hard to resist plunging straight into you, but he knew it was worth all his self-restraint to have this power over your building bliss. He drew his finger in and out of you painfully slowly, milking soft noises and whimpers from your resting lips, feeling like he could do this for hours and never get tired of it. He carefully removed his finger for a moment to ease your underwear down your legs until he could see all of your entrance in its glistening glory. He pushed one finger back inside again, keeping his gentle pace as he adjusted himself between your legs, taking a deep breath before slowing bringing his wet tongue to your clit. Still asleep you gently moaned out,

"Adrian," even in your dreams he was the only man that could make you feel like this. He took a moment to compose himself, desperate to bring you right to the edge of your orgasm before you woke, and returned to softly running his tongue over your clit in circles, while one finger softly slipped between your folds repeatedly. He kept up that steady, gentle rhythm, feeling your legs begin to shake around his cheeks, your needy gasps getting more and more frequent.

You woke up to the feeling of one soft lick between your legs that set off the orgasm that had been building gradually inside you for longer than you could know. You felt like the pleasure vibrated through you as looked down to see Adrian staring hungrily as your entrance, head buried between your legs. You panted heavily at the sudden sensation, overwhelmed and overstimulated by even his gentle touches. You moaned out his name with enough ecstasy that Adrian knew he‘d finally roused you from your slumber, lifting his head without stopping the blissful feeling of his finger moving slowly inside of you.

"Good morning sleeping beauty. You are so fucking sexy when you're asleep, I could tell you missed me." He groaned darkly, watching intently as your body writhed in pleasure under his touch. You could only smile and moan at the way he played with you, desperately wanting to feel more of him. You spread your legs and planted your feet on the mattress, mind completely hazy from this incredible wake up call, and breathed out absentmindedly,

"Fuck Adrian."

"Since you asked so nicely." He replied, stripping off his boxers, sticky with his own excitement. He was between your legs in an instant, pulling your bent legs into his chest to leave your entrance open wide for him. He pushed into you slowly, feeling you stretch around his hard girth, a deep groan ripping through his chest at the feeling of how wet he had made you,

"Fuck you feel so good, so wet for me. I don't know how I'm ever supposed to sleep again." He growled, feeling your walls tightly wrapping around him, still so sensitive from his long, slow, teasing touches. Your body squirmed from the overwhelming sensation, but Adrian's firm grip on your legs kept you pressed tight to him as he started to thrust into you roughly. Your hands fisted at the sheets around you, unable to reach to the dominating man between your legs as he fucked you hard, heavy pounding motions from his hips bringing you right to the edge with him again. Your moans sang higher and higher as worked into you mercilessly, the strain of having to hold back for so long now bursting through in his movements. He stared down at you, whimpering his name, eyes barely focused from being stirred from your sleep, desperately clutching the sheets; you were a brand new level of sexy, one that Adrian was bound to try and repeat again soon. He was thinking about all the late-night patrols he was about to feel a lot more excited for, knowing he could come home and get you dripping in your underwear and sighing his name before you even woke up. He felt you tighten around his as another wave of bliss washed over you, your hips shifting to feel him deeper inside you as you came. His pace faltered, rhythm stumbling at the feel of you coming undone at his touch again, and he collapsed forwards, lips crashing onto yours as he spilled his warmth inside of you, bucking his hips to push his seed deep inside of you. The soft feel of his lips against yours so intensely sweet as he smiled into the kiss, in no rush to move from his place above you. You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed,

"I'm glad you're home safe sweetheart."

"Me too gorgeous, and you're sure that was okay? I know we talked about it before, but... " He trailed off, hiding his enthusiasm for fear of coming across creepy.

"That was amazing Adrian, I loved it and I love you." You pushed your hips to meet his as you spoke, wanting to make your sincerity very clear. You felt amazing waking up to so much sensation, and you knew it was something Adrian was so nervous to suggest, so you didn't want to leave him doubting your enthusiasm.

"Really?" He replied excited, eyes shining brightly as he beamed at your reaction, thrilled with the possibility of touching you like that again.

"Of course. You are the sexiest possible thing to wake up to Adrian. Way better than just dreaming about you." You flirted back, pulling his head down to lock lips again, running your fingertips down his exposed, flushed chest, sending a shiver down his spine. He groaned, before flipping you onto his chest, pulling you close to him again,

"In that case, consider me your sexy alarm clock." He grinned, already growing hard between your legs again.

[beautiful-and-terrible]

little things

Rating: Gen

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, SoftBoi!Rodrick, Insecure!Reader

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Warnings: Body Image, Eating Disorders / Body Dysmorphia, Insecurity 

A/N: this is. SO shmoopy and cheesy lmaoooo but this was an anon request and i live to please :) enjoy!

---

You dragged yourself through your front door, kicking off your shoes in the foyer. The house was dark - your parents were probably asleep already.

You had just spent the day with Rodrick at Six Flags, and you were exhausted from spending all day in the hot sun, running around with your boyfriend like children. You smiled to yourself thinking about the events of the day, the thrill of the rollercoasters you went on.

You clutched the teddy bear Rodrick had won you close to your chest as you slowly ascended the stairs, trying not to make too much noise.

You entered your room and tenderly placed the bear on the bed, giving it a little kiss on the head as you did so before starting your night routine. Change into pajamas, brush teeth, wash face. As you were putting on your final face cream, your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. You knew who it was from the specific rhythm of the vibration - two short bursts, like a heartbeat.

Rodrick had sent pictures of you two from today - a lot of selfies, but also a couple of far away shots that Rodrick had harassed people into taking for you. People rarely were able to say no to Rodrick once he had gotten an idea into his head - even if that idea was wrapping himself around a street lamp like a stripper for a good picture.

You finally, blissfully laid down in bed, letting out a giant groan as you cracked your back. You browsed the photos, feeling your heart-rate pick up as you gazed at Rodrick in the pictures. He looked so cute today - he had been wearing cut off black jeans, black high-top vans, and a loose button down Hawaiian shirt, half-way unbuttoned to show off his tanned chest and the multiple layers of silver necklaces he was wearing. His nails were painted black, but his eyes were free of makeup, simply accented by his naturally long eye-lashes and the smile-lines around his eyes.

After admiring Rodrick, you turned your gaze to yourself in the pictures. You felt your heart sink into your stomach. When you had left the house this morning, you had felt pretty confident in your outfit - just ripped jean shorts and a crop-top with converse. But as you looked closer, you couldn’t stop thinking about how unsatisfied you felt with the way you looked in the pictures.

As you continued to scroll through, the more faults you found in your appearance. Your thighs being squeezed by your shorts, which didn’t feel too tight but apparently were not as flattering as you thought. In one picture, you were sitting down on a bench, your legs over Rodrick’s lap, but you couldn’t stop staring at the roll of your stomach that came over the waistband of your shorts. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you stubbornly refused to cry. You spent a long time trying to feel confident in yourself - you weren’t going to let that hard work be ruined by a few unflattering photos.

However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way your body looked in those pictures. You got up to stand in front of your full length mirror, looking at the reflection critically. You were craning your neck to look at your butt when you heard a soft tap-tap-tap at the window. You jumped about 2 feet in the air before you realized it was just Rodrick, grinning from outside the window and placing a wet kiss on the glass, making you laugh. He made a grossed-out expression when he realized the glass was not as clean as he thought it was, wiping his tongue on the back of his hand.

“I swear to God, you’re like a toddler. Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to lick random surfaces?” you asked as you opened the window to let him in. He folded himself gracefully through the window, all long limbs and messy hair. You felt both comforted and electrified in his presence.

“Since when have I ever listened to any authority figure?” Rodrick asked, grinning wolfishly and leaning down to kiss you softly, juxtaposing his rebellious tone. For someone with such a seemingly hard exterior, Rodrick was always very gentle and sweet with you. It was one of the things you loved most about him - he seemed to hate everyone but you. It made you feel special and appreciated. 

As he pulled back from the kiss, he frowned, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are red,” he said, making a pouty face. You shrugged, turning away and shaking your head.

“No, just allergies probably.”

Rodrick scoffed, “Sure, allergies. You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You refused to look at him, instead going to your record player and flipping through the vinyls you had stacked in a black milk-crate. “I’m not a bad liar,” you said half-heartedly, not really able to come up with any other excuse.

“You totally are, you avoided eye contact and everything. Seriously, what's wrong? Do you not like the bear?” Rodrick asked. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, his chest pressed against your back, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. You felt yourself smile despite your bad mood.

“No, I love the bear. I named him Sasha Bear-on Cohen. Get it?” you said, turning your head to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Ahh, a-very nice,” Rodrick replied in his best Borat impression. You giggled. He gave you a squeeze, hands warm on your waist, but the sensation made you self-conscious about your body again, and you wiggled away. You couldn’t understand how Rodrick could bear to touch you. You had no idea why he was attracted to you in the first place. It made tears spring to your eyes again, and you sniffled.

“Y/n”, Rodrick said softly, looking genuinely concerned. “I know you. You don’t get sad for no reason - unless you’re on your period, or you start thinking too much about the Mars Curiosity Rover.”

You sighed, but you knew he had a point. It took you a minute to get your thoughts into words before you spoke.

“I just... I know its silly. But those pictures - you look like a Hot Topic wet dream and I look... I don’t know. I just don’t like the way I look. And most of the time I don’t let it bother me - at least, I try - but I hate having my picture taken because whenever I see them, all I can see is the things I hate about myself. So. Yeah.”

You feel the tears making steady rivers down your cheeks, and your voice shakes as you speak. Rodrick listens attentively, sitting on the foot of your bed. He pats the space next to him, and you sit down. His hand rests on your leg - not constraining you or placating you with a hug, just letting you know he’s there.

“Y/n, I don’t know how to tell you this without sounding like a giant cheese-ball, but... holy fuck. You are so beautiful. I - every time I look at you all I can think is goddamn, I can’t believe she’s into a loser like me. And don’t argue, it’s just a fact,” he says quickly as you try to defend him from his own self-deprecation. 

“I’m not good with words... I’m more of a man of action, y’know?” he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You smack him on the arm, but his silly expression still makes you smile.

“But, I can still tell you - and don’t repeat this to anyone ever because I’ll never live it down - you give me butterflies. Every time. No matter if you’re in pajamas or a ballgown. You make me feel like a stack of pancakes with warm butter and syrup,” he pauses as you laugh, his warm brown eyes gazing into yours. “Just... I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point. You make my bones feel funny. That’s how beautiful you are.”

Rodrick finally wraps his arms around you. You let yourself be folded into the embrace, feeling content and more than a little overwhelmed by his confession.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unable to find any other words at the moment. You want to say all of that back to him, ten-fold. You want to tell him he makes you feel like flashing concert lights and Fourth of July fireworks. But your mouth can’t make the words, so you just wrap your arms around him tighter.

“Do you want me to spend the night?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple. You simply nod, already moving up the bed and pulling back the covers as Rodrick goes to turn out the lights.

In the dark of the room, only illuminated by the street-lamp outside your house, Rodrick looks very alien - all long lines and lean angles. It makes your heart-rate kick up again, and you feel a blush form on your cheeks. It’s not as though this is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed, or even been intimate, but this feels... different. 

Rodrick tucks himself in next to you on your bed - it’s a queen size, so it fits both of you well enough that you could sleep together not touching if you wanted to. But Rodrick is a big cuddler at heart, even if he would deny it to his grave. He wraps his arms around your waist as you lay your head on his chest, already being lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

You feel like it’s important to tell him before you both lose the tenderness of the moment, so you finally open your mouth to speak.

“I’m so lucky. I know you think you’re... a loser, or whatever but, Rodrick. You aren’t. You are so beyond cool, and brave, and courageous. Thinking about you makes my head spin. And whenever I see you... I’m home.” You trail off, feeling awkward, but Rodrick simply tightens his arms around you, stroking your back with his fingers.

“If I knew we were getting this sentimental I wouldn’t have brought lube... and maybe a few tissues,” he snickers, and you pinch his nipple, causing him to squeal.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch,” he teases back, and you sigh softly, feeling your body and mind relax. You had almost completely forgotten about the pictures - and at this point, you didn’t really care. The pictures didn’t speak. The only voice telling you that you weren’t beautiful was the one inside your head, and it could definitely be a bitch sometimes.

You could’ve imagined it, but as your brain was finally shutting down, you could’ve sworn you heard Rodrick start to sing, “you are my sunshine... my only sunshine...”

“you make me happy... when skies are gray...”

“you’ll never know, dear, how much i love you...”

“please don’t take my sunshine away...”

[babymilkawa]

a love that rings

bakugou katsuki, todoroki shoto (for the first half)

gn!reader :)

a soulmate au heavily inspired by the webtoon/kdrama love alarm

word count; 5682

warnings: angst, fluff, like one swear word

There are many things that Todoroki can put on his list of things he appreciates. The first bullet point, no doubt, would be your name in his curved but elongated writing, followed by several skipped spaces and then a list of the names of his friends. Except it doesn’t stop there. Below your name in those skipped lines there is an indented bullet point where little moments or traits of your relationship are written down. Here are a few: 

I love it when y/n tells me why they love me

I love it when y/n brushes their lips on my scar

I love it when y/n says my name in their sleepy voice

And it could go on and on. He’s still adding more to it to this day. 

Todoroki doesn’t know if you know about this list or if you have one of your own. He likes to know that it’s there, that he can always go back to it when he needs a reminder. And it’s never failed at that. Often times, he finds himself missing you late at night and he’ll just slip the paper out, reading it under the dim glow of his lamp. It’ll bring a fond smile to his face and he’ll be able to fall asleep just like that, counting the days until he gets to see you again. 

So he’s never doubted your relationship. He’s always felt a sense of security from you that he didn’t think he could get from anyone. Aside from that, Todoroki felt like life was moving at the right direction for him. He was making progress with his quirk and he landed an internship at an agency away from his father. Todoroki was slowly letting his walls descend.

One day, the two of you joined your usual cafeteria friends for lunch. Iida and Midoriya were talking about the most recent exam and Tsuyu and Uraraka were having their own conversation. But upon sitting down next to them, you couldn’t help but notice that they were both staring intently at their phone screens, giggling and occasionally gasping. Out of curiosity, you scooted closer and asked what had caught their attention.

“Oh, y/n have you heard?” asked Uraraka. “Apparently there was this app called love alarm that used to be trending in the early 2000′s! Now it’s getting popular again, you should really check it out.”

Her attention diverted back to her phone so you decided to see what was so interesting about it instead of asking her yourself. Pulling out your phone, you decided to download the app seeing as you had nothing else to do. Next to you, Todoroki was engaged in the conversation with Iida and Midoriya, nodding along as he put your favorite items from his plate to yours.

While taking bites out of your own lunch, you created a profile for the app, picking a picture that Todoroki had recently taken of you. You were presented with a loading screen and it was just about to be completed when a ringing sound echoed the cafeteria, followed by another in the same pitch. 

A blanket fell over the voices in the cafeteria and all heads turned to where the sound came from. Towards the east wall, where all the condiments are kept, two people stood facing each other, halos surrounding their feet. 

You were still confused as to what was even happening when Uraraka gasped next to you and whispered, “They rang each other’s love alarm! They’re soulmates!!”

Upon looking closer, you saw that they were students from Class 1-B. Tetsutetsu and Kendo to be exact. The pair of soulmates were glancing at their cellphones and looking up at the other, faces beating a shade of red. Then, one of the cafeteria ladies banged their spatula on a tray and ordered everyone to go back to their own business. 

Looking away, you focused your attention back to your phone where your own profile lay with arrows pointing to an empty bubble. Connecting two and two together, you realized that this app told you who your soulmate was. A lightbulb lit in your head and you turned to your boyfriend who was just about finishing up his lunch.

“Shoto! Have you heard? This app tells you who your soulmate is! See, mine is empty right now and I think it’s because you haven’t downloaded it yet.” 

You turned your screen towards him and he looked at it intently, mouth still chewing. 

“That's..interesting,” he said. “But why do we need an app to tell us that we love each other?”

“I know but Sho, I just want to see if this app is legit. Apparently, it was a thing back then too.” 

He seemed to understand your reasoning and frankly, he was curious himself. Pulling out his phone, Todoroki downloaded the app and set up a profile. As the two of you waited for his screen to load, you overheard students from other tables talking about love alarm too. 

“My parents said that this brought them together! It must be really accurate, then.”

Upon hearing that, your face lit up. It was true that you and Todoroki didn’t need technology to know that the two of you had nothing but love for each other. You already knew that he was your soulmate and that you were his. But the idea of having something like a man-made app confirm your feelings made you feel a sense of pride. It was the fact that you and Todoroki found each other even without one. 

Your boyfriend’s screen finished loading and the two of you leaned your heads together, waiting for a picture of you to pop up in his empty bubble. A line of sparkles circled around it and there you appeared, followed by a burst of confetti on the screen. You gasped and looked at him excitedly, shaking his arm. He smiled at you and looked at your icon on his screen, pride swelling in his own chest. The picture he had chosen for his own profile was one that you took for him. It was on the same day as the picture that he took for you, and arrows linked them together. 

Grabbing your own phone, you opened the app and waited eagerly for Todoroki’s picture to show up. You couldn’t wait to hear that same ringing sound you heard earlier and to see those overlapping halos by your feet. Then everyone would see that the two of you were made for each other, not even an app could disagree. 

But after staring at it for a good minute, the smile on your face started to droop. The grey bubble on your screen remained empty, even the smile in your profile picture looked a little upset. Todoroki was looking too but he said nothing. Why wasn’t his picture showing up? Was the app just glitching? All the excitement you had felt earlier drained away. Todoroki, sensing your change in mood, took your phone and helped you restart it.

“Maybe a lot of people are using it at the moment, that’s why it’s being a little slow. I’m sure I’ll show up if you check later,” he said, throwing you a soft smile. 

You simply nodded and turned back to your forgotten lunch. Around you, the cafeteria was still alive with voices and laughter. Somewhere in the back, another pair of rings echoed around. You picked at your food, not bothering to turn around to see who it was. That could’ve been yours. You and Todoroki could’ve had your own rings and everyone would congratulate the two of you. But instead, shouts of encouragement came from the back, not directed at you. 

Everywhere you went, you could hear rings across the halls or people crowding around their screens. It only angered you even further, knowing that your own love alarm was not functioning properly. It had been a few days since the events at the cafeteria and Todoroki’s profile refused to show up on your screen. He tried his best to console you and to let you know that it was just an app. Technology had its own mistakes, too. And you were starting to believe him. Your own friends had pointed out that the terms and conditions stated that it was only proven to be right 95% of the time. So really, it didn’t mean anything if the two of you were not paired as soulmates. It didn’t mean that you loved each other any less. Todoroki suggested that you both deleted the app and you agreed. But a part of you still wanted to wait and see. If Todoroki didn’t show up, would someone else? But you quickly became disgusted with your own train of thought. How would your boyfriend feel if you were his soulmate but he wasn’t yours? He would be just as upset. And if someone else was paired with you? Right, it would break his heart. You had to delete it right away. And you were just about to when a gruff voice called out to you.

Looking up, you saw that it was Bakugou. The two of you would meet in the afternoon sometimes to train while your boyfriend was at his internship. You and Bakugou both had quirks that went well together. You had the ability to slow down time around you, with a proximity of 10 feet. It came with the cost of extreme exhaustion which is why you had to train your reflexes to react quicker, extending your time while holding out your quirk. Even a few minutes or seconds could make a difference in battle. Bakugou himself was able to react quickly to any situation thrown at him so you figured that he was the best trainer in order for you to advance with your quirk. 

Forgetting all about your task to delete love alarm, you walked with your training partner and started to warm up. 

There was a calm silence between the two of you as you both stretched and warmed up your muscles. Glancing at him, you saw that his face was molded into a stern expression and you wondered if he ever had any other emotion. Then, just as the two of you were getting ready to start, you heard a pair of rings coming from outside Heights Alliance. The sound sparked curiosity in you and you turned to your partner.

“Have you heard of this new app called love alarm? People are becoming obsessed with it.”

He shrugged, “Not interested.”

“Aw, come on. You should give it a try, see who your soulmate is.”

“Like I said, I’m not interested. Now hurry up before it gets dark.”

---

After taking a cold shower and finishing your homework, Todoroki had gotten back from his internship, just about ready to crash from how exhausted he was. Seeing your boyfriend like this made you reach over to ruffle his hair, helping him take his hero costume off. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I was going to wait for you.”

“You must be hungry then. You can go without me, I just want to shower real quick.”

“I can wait for you, Sho. It’s no big deal.”

Too tired to argue, Todoroki nodded and went to go shower. As he was in there, you helped clean up his equipment and put his sweaty clothes in the laundry. 

Somewhere in between, his phone had slipped out and you picked it up. You were going to set it aside when it lit up, presenting his wallpaper, a picture of the two of you on your most recent date. It made your heart warm and you smiled down at it. That’s right. You didn’t need some man-made program to tell you that Todoroki was right for you. You already knew it in your heart. 

But you couldn’t help but wonder if he had deleted the app like he said he would. You realized you had forgotten to do that yourself. Oops. You could do it later. Now, you unlocked his phone, only to see that it was already on the app. So he hadn’t deleted it yet. Looking at the pictures of his gentle face and your happy features, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Like it was your fault that your alarms didn’t ring. Obviously it wasn’t true but then it didn’t make any sense either. Did you just not have a soulmate? Did the universe decide to leave you alone? Each person should have their own. There was always a pair. Then, you started to doubt your feelings for Todoroki. You knew that you loved him, though. Was it just not enough? You couldn’t shake that feeling of guilt for your boyfriend. He loved you so much, enough for the app to recognize it. Maybe you just had to show it to him more. Yeah, that was it. All you had to do was openly show and tell him how much he meant to you. 

Putting his phone to the side, you patiently waited for him to come out of the shower. You decided that now was a great time to start. As soon as he comes out, you would hand him his clothes and listen to him talk about his day. That was nothing different. But you would also make sure that he himself knew you were listening. Maybe throw in a light massage to his aching muscles. And that’s just what you did when he stepped out. 

The two of you walked hand in hand to the kitchen of Heights Alliance, sticking your noses up in the air to the smell of good food. As Todoroki was talking next to you, you saw Bakugou enter the hallway and you were about to wave to him when the sound of rings bounced the narrow walls. Looking around, you noticed that there was no one around but the three of you. Heart beating in excitement, you pulled your phone out. Was it finally working? Did you finally ring Todoroki’s alarm? The other two pulled their phones out too and you turned your screen, ready to show your boyfriend his picture below yours when you saw that..he wasn’t there. But there was someone below your picture, alright. Instead, it was the last person you would ever expect. Looking down at your phone, you saw that a picture of Bakugou was connected with arrows to your own. And a series of halos surrounded your feet, linking you with him. And Todoroki was caught in the middle of it.  

---

Back in your dorm, you found yourself angry, no, fuming. What kind of sick person would-would create something like this? Todoroki could sense your ignited emotions from across the room and he quickly went over to calm your shaking fists. 

“Y/n, look it’s noth-”

“I’m sorry!” You said, looking up at him with glistening eyes. “I-I should’ve deleted it when you told me to b-but I forgot and-”

“Y/n.”

You swallowed, tears threatening to spill out. You tried to read your boyfriend’s expression but your vision blurred and oh god, why couldn���t you have just listened to him then..

“I’m not..angry, y/n. Just confused.”

You sniffed and he wiped away the teardrops leaking at the corners of your eyes. 

“I didn’t delete it, either,” he said. “I forgot too. So, it’s not your fault.”

Right. You knew that when you looked at his phone. It wasn’t snooping, the two of you trusted each other and freely looked at the other’s phones often. 

“But..” he continued. “I don’t think it would’ve done much of a difference.” 

At this, you looked up at him and he nodded. “I did some research and apparently, your alarm won’t turn off just because you deleted the app. Once you download it and set up a profile, there’s no turning back.”

Oh. Oh. So that meant that Bakugou must’ve recently downloaded it. Because when you had asked him about it, he had said he wasn’t interested. Which is why your alarms didn’t ring while you trained. It was because he didn’t even have it then. 

But then, the idea of you and your training partner made no sense either. The two of you could barely be even called friends. He would often dismiss any small talk you tried to initiate and only commented about your sparring mistakes. So what made love alarm think that the two of you were for each other?

You thought that it was supposed to bring soulmates together. But all you could feel was a whirl of emotions, anything but love and connectedness. It would bring a wedge between Todoroki and you.

“Y/n,” he said, bringing you out of your head. “I think that this app is..what people say it is. Meaning, I think it’s accurate. After all the researching I did, I didn’t read a single story or review talking about how two people who weren’t meant for each other were put together. I love you y/n..but I don’t want to be the one who holds you back from..Bakugou. If he's the one who'll really make you happy.”

Realizing what he was hinting at, you grabbed at his arms, furiously shaking your head from side to side.

“No! This-this app is bullshit! We can’t believe it! You make me happy, Sho!”

Todoroki slowly detached your gripping hands from his arms. “I just want you to be happy, y/n. And if it’s with him, then I’ll let you go.”

No, he couldn't just leave like that. You made eye contact with him and slowly took in a deep breath, letting your muscles relax.

He immediately realized what you were doing and backed away. "Don't."

But it was the only way to make him stay. By slowing time down around you, you could prevent him from leaving, from stepping out that door and turning away forever.

Todoroki, however, was quick to step out, leaving a distance of more than 10 feet between the two of you.

Heart heavy, you could feel the tears creeping back up so you let yourself exhale. It was no use.

He felt like he was doing the right thing for you, but his heart still filled with pain and regret. Todoroki left your dorm, trying to forget the warmth emanating from your hands just seconds ago.

---

In another dorm, one floor down and several doors away, Bakugou lay with his head in his hands.

Y/n? My soulmate? He didn’t know whether to feel hopeful or pity. Pity would be for the man you loved.

Bakugou had always admired your strength and determination, your beauty. And only recently did he really accept his feelings for you. He was doing a great job at hiding it, too. If the two of you were ever put in the same sentence, the topic would only be about your quirks and training. Nothing more. He made sure to avoid conversation with you, even if a part of him was dying to know your interests, anything outside of your quirk and fighting ability.

But now, this new piece of information left him confused, lost as to what to do next. And he always hated this feeling. The feeling of not being in control of yourself. It meant he was weak, vulnerable to whatever was out to get him. He had to figure out the next steps, quick.

First things first, he would delete the app. Yes, the last thing he wanted was to even hear those rings again, especially if they were coming from him. He was sure Todoroki would hate it too, his own significant other, ringing another person's alarm. Though the blonde and Todoroki never really got along, he couldn't help but feel remorseful.

Bakugou sighed out loud. If only he hadn't downloaded it. After hearing you talk about it before training, his curiosity sparked and Bakugou just wanted to know if he even stood a chance. Of course, his goals of becoming #1 couldn't even compare to his desire for you, at least that's what he told himself. He had long accepted that it was just a crush, no need to think about how he might like the idea of you being with him.

After deleting love alarm clean off his phone, Bakugou pondered about what to do next. Scanning his eyes around his dorm, he carefully thought about what could be done to erase that look of horror from your face earlier. His eyes landed on his gauntlets and he grabbed his phone again. Bakugou would text you, saying that the two of you shouldn't train anymore. Although he couldn't think of anyone better than you as his partner, he had to let it go.

The text was about to be sent when a thought occurred to him. Why was he doing this? Why was he trying to cut ties with you all of a sudden? Did he..care about your relationship with Todoroki? No, that's not it. Even if Todoroki looked so hurt at that moment, there was still something about him that pissed the blonde off. Then what was it? Did his feelings for you grow so strong that he cared about your happiness, even if it was with another man?

Annoyed, Bakugou deleted the text. He could just tell you in person later.

---

Back in your dorm, you found yourself pacing back and forth. When Todoroki left, you didn't know whether to go after him or to let him cool off. He was clearly distressed. Maybe it was just something he said in the heat of the moment, breaking up. Yeah.

Leaving your dorm, you set out to go find him. In the common room, a few of your classmates were gathered around, casually talking in their free time. Todoroki wasn't in the room and you were about to leave when you saw him enter, his bi-colored hair standing out. Your face broke into a smile and a call almost left your lips when a pair of rings broke out, shushing the people in the room. Your smile faded a little as you looked at your phone. Nothing changed, as expected. Bakugou's profile was still there but it wasn't yours that rang.

"Momo!"

You looked up. Mina's figure was hovering over the said classmate who was seated on the couch. Sure enough, a small halo surrounded her feet, followed by more increasing in size. Peering over her shoulder, you saw who her soulmate was and your heart shattered. Your breath left your lungs and your throat closed up. All you wanted was to just get out of there. You didn't even want to see where the other set of rings lay, you knew they were there.

After you left, Todoroki found himself staring at the spot where you stood. His eyes were on you when it happened. He didn't have to check to know that Momo's rings were connected to his.

Right after he left your dorm, Todoroki received a notification from love alarm.

Todoroki Shoto, a shield has been gifted to you.

A love alarm shield: your soulmate will be blocked, replacing them will be the second choice.

You can request for a spear anytime after the transaction and all effects from the shield will be erased.

Would you like to use it?

He did it for you, so you could be happy with your soulmate.

And there in the common room, on his screen, was Momo's picture.

---

The next afternoon, Bakugou walked up to you and asked if you still wanted to train together. In your eyes, he could see that you had gotten no sleep, mind still foggy from last night's events.

You answered him with a meek "yes," hoping that sparring with him would wake you up and help you recharge.

After seeing your ex-boyfriend's face on another person's phone, you decided that it was right to let him go. You understood then, how he felt. If Momo and Todoroki were really meant for each other, you couldn't get in the way. You wanted him to be happy too.

Beside you, Bakugou was silent as usual, hands stuffed in his pockets. But you knew that things were different. You were each other's soulmate but you felt like you were close to him as much as you were close to Tokoyami, whom you've never even talked to.

You just felt so lonely. Last night was the first night in months where you slept alone, without the security of Todoroki's embrace. And it didn't feel like that was going to change anytime soon. Bakugou was never one for small talk so it was a waste of time to even try to become closer to him.

The blonde himself was contemplating on whether he should strike up a conversation or not. The reason why he always closed himself off to you was because he knew that if he really opened up, you would be able to see every crack and flaw and he would be left vulnerable.

Still, Bakugou couldn't help but think of the app as some kind of calling to him. He felt like he had to give it a try at least.

Turning to you, Bakugou saw that you were patting your pockets, a slight frown creasing your forehead.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I think I forgot my phone. Sorry, I'll be right back," you said, running towards the direction you came from.

Bakugou let out a sigh. Good, I didn't even know what I was going to say.

He decided to wait at the same spot instead of continuing the path to the field. It wouldn't take you long anyways, Heights Alliance was just in his view.

And only 5 minutes passed when he saw your figure come out of the dorms, jogging to catch up with him.

Then it happened again. A burst of halos surrounded you and looking down at his own feet, Bakugou saw that it was happening to him too.

You froze in place. Dammit, now?! As if things weren't awkward enough between us.

But 5 feet across from you, Bakugou was confused. He had deleted the app, didn't he? Why was it still linking the two of you together?

Slowly, you approached him and said, "Sorry, I know that's going to be annoying. You can't really turn it off."

"What?" You can't? That made no sense.

"Yeah," you continued. "Even if you delete the app, it'll still ring. Once you create a profile, you can't turn back."

That..sucked. And why were you apologizing? Bakugou thought. None of this was your fault.

"Well I guess you're stuck with me then," you joked.

Bakugou looked at you. "You're no bother."

He looked away but still noticed the surprise on your face.

"Really? I mean, training isn't too bad with you. I think we've both improved a lot."

Right. Training. He didn't care about your quirk or how compatible it was with his. He already knew all that. He wanted to know who you were. Your favorite food, hobby, cafe. And now was the best time, he felt.

And so as you trained, Bakugou let himself open up and he welcomed your attempts of small talk, listening intently to every word you said. Conversation flowed naturally out of the two of you and you wondered why it was never like this. Bakugou was someone who was so easy to talk to, even if it didn't seem like it. He probably just took some time warming up.

Over the next hour, Bakugou was able to learn more about you as a person. He felt like he was finally meeting you for the first time. It made him wonder too, why it took him so long to let you in. And to think that all he needed was a push from some app.

A half an hour had passed and training was going well. You were both drenched with sweat but adrenaline rushed through you and you eagerly welcomed it. It was times like this that made you energized. You could forget about every worry you had and focus on the moment, on the fire coursing through your veins.

You dodged a blast directed at you and almost froze it in time when you felt a kick to the back of your knees. What? How'd he get behind me so fast? Your legs gave out underneath you but a pair of strong arms were able to catch you before you met the ground.

Looking up, you made contact with a pair of red eyes staring down at you. He was close, very close. And only now did you notice how handsome the man in front of you was. His jawline was sharp and his nose had a perfect slant. He even had a few tiny freckles that spotted his cheeks. And..a small tint of pink.

Bakugou raised you upright and you both turned away. No doubt, your own face was rising with color.

Holding out a hand, Bakugou helped you get up and you were, once again, in very close proximity with the blonde. This time, you didn't look away. Instead, both your heads leaned in close until your lips touched and it felt..right. The kiss was short and left you wanting more. Bakugou had soft lips and he was surprisingly a good kisser.

For a second there, neither of you looked away. Your hand was still in his and your chests were almost touching. Then, as if realizing what just happened, you separated quickly. Bakugou cleared his throat and decided to call it a day. You nodded, suddenly feeling tired.

It didn't take long for the two of you to crave the other's lips, however. You found yourself in front of his door, asking him to tutor you before the next test. He would then make you dinner after a rough session, even if he was tired himself.

It soon led to lunch in the cafeteria together and hanging out with his friends. One day, he officially asked you out. You agreed, of course, and just like that, the hole that a certain someone had opened inside you was completed.

---

It’s been 2 years and you’re gathered around, taking your memorable graduation pictures. Bakugou’s got an arm around you and you’re both holding a bouquet of flowers his parents gave. The sun beating above you is burning through your black cloaks, making you look forward to that cold drink, sitting patiently at your favorite cafe with beads of water dripping down its shaft.

Looking across the parking lot, you can see other families and your fellow classmates crowding together for a picture to be framed, bright faces smiling behind a glass.

Todoroki holds his diploma tight and places a hand on top of his cap, not wanting the wind to blow away his hard work, his time in U.A., his memories. And looking back at the building behind him, he could feel all of them flooding back. Some were good, some were..best not to mention.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and Todoroki pulls it out. Speak of the devil. There was a message from love alarm.

Todoroki Shoto, a spear has been gifted to you.

A love alarm spear: all effects from the shield previously gifted will be erased.

You may not request for a shield after this transaction.

Would you like to use it?

Fingers hovering over the screen, Todoroki ponders. He's in a relationship with Momo. Would using this break them apart? He had asked her out without thinking one day and they had started from there. It took time, but they worked well on the field, quirks and minds blending together.

He doesn't regret asking her out, they have their good times. But he thinks about his future and if he really sees her in them. Yes, of course she'll be there. To say the truth, Todoroki just wants nothing to do with this app anymore. It gave him a new start and he'll end it at that.

Tapping the red letters on his screen, Todoroki tucks his phone away to lean in close to his girlfriend, smiling for yet another picture.

Hand in hand, you and Bakugou head towards his car, where Congratulations! has been written across the back window with marker. Flowers and their petals litter the exterior of the car as if the two of you had just gotten married.

Placing your bouquets and diplomas safely in the backseat, he drives you away, rolling down the windows as the two of you yell out your goodbyes to your classmates, promising to meet soon.

The air is nice and the wind blowing from the fully opened windows whips back your hair and kisses your face. Out on the sidewalks, people are biking around, enjoying the weather on this lovely day. It makes you smile, how content you are at the moment. You have your boyfriend next to you, a cold drink patiently waiting, and a bright future ahead of you.

Bakugou glances at you and upon seeing your smile, he spreads one himself.

There are many things that Bakugou can put on his list of things he appreciates. The first bullet point, no doubt, would be your name in his scratchy but still readable writing, followed by several skipped spaces and then a list of the names of his friends. Except it doesn’t stop there. Below your name in those skipped lines there is an indented bullet point where little moments or traits of your relationship are written down. Here are a few:

Y/n, I love them and I love that they remind me that they love me back

Y/n, I love them and I love that they support my goals

Y/n, I love them and I love that they are strong and independent

And it could go on and on. He’s still adding more to it to this day.

a/n: wow I'm like proud of this but the romance is where??

bnha masterlist

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 4: Jealousy

Draco had a jealous streak a mile wide. He always had, for as long as he could remember. His jealous streak had given him plenty of things; jealousy was an excellent motivator.

But his jealousy had never felt quite like this.

In the past, he'd been jealous of tangible things: attention, possessions, grades, etc. Lately, though, Draco had found himself becoming jealous over increasingly inexplicable things. Most (all) of those things having to do with Potter. He was jealous of the normal things, too, like people who casually touched him, or the way Weasley could make him laugh, or the attention he bestowed on Granger when she was talking about her latest campaign. In all honesty, there was nothing new about those things.

But one day, while they were in training together, Draco found himself jealous of the rain.

(More below the cut)

Jealous of the rain as he watched Potter tip his head back and spread his arms to accept it. Jealous of the way the rain was allowed to touch his skin, of the way Potter opened himself up to it and allowed himself to relax under its ministrations.

On the day they received their auror uniforms he found himself jealous of the clothes that the other man put on his body. Jealous of the way the trousers hugged his strong thighs, jealous of the way his robes stretched across his broad shoulders. Jealous of the closeness that Draco had never been afforded.

He found himself quite preoccupied one afternoon as they sat filling out paperwork, jealous of the pen that Potter kept sticking in his mouth. He was jealous of the absentminded caress of lips and tongue, of the sharp nip of his teeth.

At night he found himself jealous of not only the people whom Potter could, theoretically, be spending the night with but also of the thought of his pillows and sheets. Jealous of the way that Potter must allow himself to be completely vulnerable to them; glasses removed, face lax as he slept. Something in Draco surged with a fierce longing at imagining seeing Potter with all of his walls torn down.

He found himself jealous of the work they did. Jealous of the way it consumed Potter's attention, of the way that Potter poured everything he had, everything he was, into solving the crimes set before them.

Draco was jealous of the wind. Jealous of the way it tousled Potter's already messy hair, tugging the curls back from his face.

He'd even been jealous of Potter's own hand earlier that day. Jealous of the way Potter had folded his hands, fingers slotting between each other, as they sat across from their perpetrator. He'd ached to feel the incongruity of the tender skin between his fingers and the callouses on his fingertips and palms.

Most of all, though, Draco was jealous of the way that Potter seemed to be happy. Not because he didn't want Potter to be happy; he did want him to be happy, he deserved to be happy. But because Potter seemed to be happy without Draco and Draco wasn't sure that he would ever be happy without knowing the way that Potter tasted, knowing the way he smelled, knowing the way his muscles felt as they shifted under his palms. He didn't know if he could ever be happy without knowing what Potter looked like when his guard was down, or knowing how his voice sounded when he was completely relaxed.

"You're staring again," Weasley said, snapping Draco's attention back from where he'd been watching Potter as he fetched a round for the team of aurors who'd just wrapped up a very challenging case.

"I'm not," he protested. It was a lie and they both knew it.

Weasley narrowed his eyes at him, "You could just ask him out, you know."

"Why would I do that?"

He rolled his eyes, "So the rest of us can stop watching you pine after one another. It's distracting."

His heart clenched painfully, the way it always did when someone (usually Weasley, damn him) suggested that perhaps this wasn't as one sided as it felt like it was. Shaking his head, he replied, "He's not interested."

"How would you know?" Weasley asked. "I've been his best mate for almost our entire lives. I think I'd know better than you."

"Well, then maybe he should use a bit of the famous Gryffindor courage and ask me," he said with a haughty sniff as he took a sip of his firewhiskey.

Weasley rolled his eyes and was about to reply when Potter came over, levitating a dozen drinks in his wake.

After setting down the drinks on the table with an impressive display of control, Potter plopped down in the seat between Draco and Weasley. Draco watch jealously as Potter leaned against Weasley, pressing their shoulders together for a long moment as though he was drawing strength from the other man.

The table was loud and rowdy, nearly full of Gryffindors, and Draco wondered (not for the first time) how he'd managed to find himself almost constantly surrounded by their brash, obnoxious selves.

Potter was quiet next to him, as Draco had noticed he often was, listening to the others, laughing and sharing in their joy; quietly supporting and encouraging them to be their most authentic selves.

It always made Draco want to tell them all to shut up. To just be quiet for a minute and let Potter talk, let him be himself, because if he was being honest he wanted to know everything about Potter. He wanted to know what made him tick, what brought him joy, what made him weep, what made him laugh. He wanted to know why he chose to be an auror when he could have done anything. He wanted to know his favorite song, his favorite book, his favorite meal. He wanted to know everything.

When the desire to grasp Potter by the hand and make him tell him everything became too strong, Draco stood up (rather abruptly) and made his way out of the bar, muttering "cigarette" to the table as an excuse.

Outside, he leaned against the wall and lit up his cigarette, exhaling shakily as it caught. The warm summer breeze did him good, helped to settle his racing mind. He took a long, slow drag and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, relishing the way it burned a bit and the way his slow inhale helped him to calm further.

Fuck Potter, fuck this, he thought sullenly. This was all getting out of hand, it was too much, even for him.

"Terrible habit."

Draco's head snapped around to see Potter leaning his shoulder against the wall a few feet from Draco, watching him intently. "You should get louder shoes," Draco commented, blowing a stream of smoke from his lips, "or a bell," he added, picturing the kind you tie around a cat's neck.

Potter laughed, free and unfettered, and Draco basked in it like sunlight. "Can I join you?" Potter asked.

Draco forced himself to take another drag of his cigarette before answering, it wouldn't do to sound too eager. "I suppose," he finally said.

"Can I bum a cigarette off you?" Potter asked next.

His eyebrows rose, "You smoke?"

The other man smiled, the soft, secret one that exposed his dimples. "Occasionally. When the company is right."

Draco handed him a cigarette but he couldn't even fully appreciate the comment when the company is right because Potter leaned in close to light his off of the tip of Draco's. He hardly dared to move, he tried not to inhale deeply enough to be noticed, but he could smell the other man. He could smell his cologne; earthy and woody, he could smell Potter's shampoo; faintly like apples, and the hint of something underneath that he couldn't quite place but made his mouth water just the same.

After a moment, Potter drew back and Draco watched as he inhaled the smoke and held it in his lungs for a moment. He had so many questions, so many things he was dying to know, instead he said, "You're always quiet."

"Sorry?" Potter asked, turning his head to look at Draco as he rested his back against the wall.

"Your friends-"

"They're your friends, too," Potter interrupted.

And oh, he was trying to be kind, trying to tell Draco that they counted him as one of them, his heart fluttered uselessly. "Fine, our friends," he conceded, "They're always so loud. And you listen to them, you know everything about them. You've kept every detail stored away in that funny little brain of yours."

"I wouldn't say every detail," Potter protested before putting his cigarette between his lips once more. It shouldn't be attractive, Draco thought to himself.

"But you're always quiet," Draco pushed. "You listen to everyone, know things about everyone, but you never talk about yourself."

Potter looked away, staring up at a lamp post for a long moment. He took another drag of his cigarette and Draco thought for a moment that he wasn't going to answer. "Who really wants to listen to me?" he murmured on an exhale.

I do! Draco wanted to scream. Instead he huffed, "Everyone does."

Potter's lips tipped up in what was supposed to be an approximation of a grin but there was no joy in it, "No they don't. They'd want to listen if I wanted to tell them about a date I'd gone on, or if I had a family to talk about, or if I'd just gotten a new crup, or if I'd done something good or brave, if I'd updated my kitchen, or taken up painting." He brought his cigarette to his mouth once more and didn't look back at Draco.

Draco waited. He was good at this, good at waiting for people to talk. Silence didn't bother him. It made him a very good interrogator.

After a moment, Potter continued, "No one wants to hear about how I can't always sleep at night. No one wants to hear about the memories, and the flashbacks, and the nightmares. No one wants to listen to me talk about all of the ways that everything that happened in the war feels meaningless when we're just dealing with the same bullshit day in and day out at the ministry. No one wants to hear me talk about how when I look at Teddy all I can think about is how he looks just like Tonks and has a mischievous streak as wide as Remus'. Everyone's moved on," he said. "Everyone has gotten on with their lives and no one wants to hear about how I am just..." he trailed off searching for a word, "trapped. In my grief, in all of the ways that I failed. No one wants to know that it feels like I'll never be able to atone for all of the hurt, for all of the death and suffering-" he broke off, his voice choked, and Draco watched as a tear tracked silently down his cheek.

"I do," Draco whispered because he had to. Because Harry had been brave and vulnerable, and Draco owed him this much. "I do," he repeated.

Harry looked over at him, and his forest green eyes laid Draco bare. "Why?"

He lifted one shoulder, "because," he paused and swallowed, "because you're not alone in feeling so many of those things," he started. "Because you deserve to feel heard, to feel seen, to feel known. Because what you have to say matters."

"To who?"

And Draco recognized this question for what it was. He understood that Harry was not really asking who but why. He was asking if what he had to say mattered because he was "the Savior" or "the Chosen One" or did what he had to say matter because he was Harry, just Harry.

"To me," Draco said finally, knowing it was tipping his hand. "What you have to say matters to me. I want to know you, Potter. Harry."

Harry was quiet for a long moment, looking at Draco, searching him and Draco very much hoped he would find whatever he was looking for.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Harry said, "I want to know you, too, Draco."

Draco couldn't have stopped the grin that spread across his face if he'd tried, and he did try, so he settled for looking down at the ground to hide it.

"I like your smile," Harry said softly.

"Oh?" Draco replied.

Harry nodded, "I like a lot of things about you," he said, soft like a confession.

"I like a lot of things about you, too," Draco admitted.

"Would you maybe want to go and get some coffee?" Harry asked. "Or go somewhere quieter than here so we could talk?"

"I would like that very much," Draco replied. "There's a little muggle coffee shop a few blocks from my flat that stays open until 3:00am?" he offered.

Harry dropped the stub of his cigarette on the pavement and ground it out with his boot, "Lead the way," he said, gesturing to the sidewalk.

Draco nodded once, his stomach tumbling and bubbling like a cauldron set too hot, and he set off toward his flat.

He'd only taken a few steps when he felt Harry's fingers slide through his.

"Alright?" Harry asked softly.

Draco squeezed his fingers, "Better than," he replied, giving Harry a little smile. Grinning because he supposed, with Harry's hand in his, he had one less irrational thing to feel jealous of.

Day 3: Agility | Day 5:Possessiveness

[swiftiesimonriley]

pta and pb&j’s: first day (single dad! javier peña x f! teacher reader)

summary: single dad javi prepares his twins, Sophia and Lillie for their first day of kindergarten - finding it a little hard to let them go - meets their new teacher - who has some words of advice for him.

warnings: mentions of anxiety/javi's former job, single parenting stress and anxiety

a/n: this is the first part in my series, pta and pb&j’s! i’m so excited for this one, with the reader being a cute, young kindergarten teacher who has a huge crush on mr. peña. i’m not sure how many parts i’m going to do yet, but i know it’ll be a few. let me know if you wanna be tagged in upcoming parts, and as always reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!!🤎

"Good morning my angels, its time to wake up," Javi whispers, gently shaking the arms of his twin daughters. Their two twin beds sit parallel to one another, separated by a small bedside table with a lamp, the small light illuminating the pink room. The room sits nice and tidy, except for a few stray dolls on the floor near a bin of other toys, but Javi can’t find himself to be mad about the small pile of Barbies.

Sitting gently on the edge of one of the beds, he makes sure to not knock over any of the meticulously organized stuffed animals spread across the fluffy comforter. Looking down, Javi sees in his younger daughter, Lillie’s arms sits the small, gray stuffed bunny rabbit he gave her and her sister the day they were born, the long floppy ears peaking out and hanging over her blankets.

Looking over to the other bed, he sees Sophia, the older of the twins, has the matching white bunny in her arms as well. He lets out a chuckle at his girls - they were heavy sleepers - quite the opposite of himself.

He always thought they’d come running to his room during a storm, but they always managed to make it soundly through the night, and that it was him who could never fall back asleep. He was jealous of them in that way, most nights not being able to sleep due to the racing thoughts in his mind. It was nothing to worry about, just normal things regarding his job here back home and anxiety over other things. Javi sighs at the sight of his baby daughters, hating that he has to wake them up.

"Girls, we can't be late for your first day of kindergarten!" The former DEA agent says softly, breaking out into a smile as his girls begin to open up their eyes, letting out small yawns before jumping up to wrap their small arms around their father, pulling him into a hug.

The stuffed bunnies drop to the side as Javi picks them up in his arms, swinging them around playfully, before placing them down and bringing his fingers to one of their sides, Lillie letting out loud giggles as he tickles her.

A few seconds later Javi drops his arms from Lillie's sides and switches to Sophia, her laughs echoing across the room as Lillie tries to “stop” her dad by lightly pushing at him, her laughter joining her younger sister’s. A moment later Javi jumps up to his feet and makes quick work of making his way over to their closest, picking up the uniform tops and skirts and bringing it over to the ends of both beds. He sets aside their backpacks, which the trio had packed the night before along with their lunches, making sure to place it near the door so they don’t forget it.

Turning back to face his daughters, he kneels down so he can be at eye level with them. “While you get dressed do you wanna pick out what braids you want me to do for you both?” he asks softly, nodding to the small American Girl Doll book on Lillie’s desk that features all different styles of braids and updo’s.

Javi prided himself on working through almost every style within the purple book, practicing on the girls or on one of their dolls when they are asleep or at daycare. Many nights have been spent following youtube tutorials leading up to the first week of school - what can he say, he wants to get this right. He can proudly now say that he has mastered the art of braiding.

Lillie’s voice snaps him back to reality. “Ok dad,” she smiles, moving to grab a jacket from her dresser, “can you pretty please make us pancakes?” Sophia asks, flashing her signature “puppy dog eyes” which make her father weak every time.

At 5 years old, they already have him wrapped around their fingers. He can’t even imagine what it will be like when they get older.

"Of course I can!" Javi laughs, leaning his hand down to playfully ruffle at both of their hairs. "Anything for my princesses.”

Walking out of their room, Javi makes his way down the hallway and the stairs towards the kitchen, quickly looking at the time and making a mental note of when to leave. He doesn’t want to be known as the dad who brought his kids to school late on the first day. He’s heard that some of the moms at this school can be a little gossipy, and that’s the last thing he needs right now.

Once in the kitchen, Javi reaches up into the cabinets and grabs the dry ingredients and a bowl to start up the pancake mixture. Opening up the fridge, he grabs the wet ingredients and some strawberries to serve on the side.

But as he starts his prep work, Javi can't stop the feelings of nervousness from creeping in.

It has nothing to do with the anxiety he still has from his previous job, some nights waking up suddenly when remembering the things he saw, the things he did.

Its not that.

It’s that his baby girls are growing up right before his eyes.

Javi has been on his own with Lillie and Sophia their entire lives, their birth mother exiting the picture shortly after they were born.

Months of preparing for the twin’s arrival, painting the nursery - what color to pick? is pink to overused, what about yellow? It took nearly 4 trips to the local paint store to pick a color. Buying clothes, doing research, going to birthing classes - none of it could prepare him to do this all by himself.

He was scared to be a father, hell, being a single father seemed even scarier, but the minute he held his baby girls in his arms, Javi swore that everything felt right in the world.

The two rested easy in his arms, just hours old and it brought Javi to tears. They were just so tiny and innocent, and at first he struggled a bit - with the person he was in the past - did he deserve to have such sweet angels in his life?

But his girls have showed him that he can have a new start. That he was meant to be a father, a protector. And he was a natural.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he starts mixing the batter before pouring several drops into the pan rested on the stovetop, a faint simmering sound coming from the butter's reaction to the heat. The older man cuts up the strawberries into quarters and starts placing them into two small bowls when he hears the distinct sound of two pairs of shoes clomping down the staircase.

Quickly turning around, Javi is met by the sight of his two giggling daughters running towards him, opening his arms wide to pull them into his embrace as they finally reach them. Holding them close to his chest for a moment, he almost doesn't want to let go. He knows that his girls are growing up and that he can't do anything about it, but he can't even begin to think about them growing up and leaving him without his heart breaking.

Pulling away, he asks the girls about the hairstyles they chose while he flips the pancakes, french braids being chosen as usual. Javi uses the spatula to plate up the panckaes and makes sure both girls get their bowl of strawberries before grabbing one of the many colorful combs around the house and parting Sophie's hair for the braids.

The two girls giggle and talk about how excited they are for their first day as their dad skillfully styles their hair, making sure to use elastics that he knows won't tangle into their hair when they take the braids out.

As the girls finish up their breakfast, Javi finishes off Lillie's braids before brewing up a pot of coffee, knowing he's going to need it to get through the day. He gently directs the girls to go get their things so they can head out, reaching up into one of the cabinets to grab a travel mug.

As the girls scurry away to their room to grab their bags, Javi brings their lunches out of the fridge and takes two nearbye napkins and a pen and quickly scrawls down a little heart on each one before slidding them into each of their pink lunchboxes.

"Lets go Dad!" Sophia chuckles, leading her sister back down the stairs and over to the kicthen, reaching up to grab at the two lunchboxes, "is it time to go?"

Javi feels a smile play at his lips, "Yes honey, its time for us to go," he responds, grabbing his travel mug and walking with his girls out the front door, making sure to turn and lock it before unlocking his car and helping the girls into their carseats.

Once seated in the drivers seat, Javi looks up at his rear view mirror and sees his two baby girls smiling up at him - a sight that he never gets tired of - and pulls out of the driveway.

“Let’s go honey bunnies,” Javi says playfully, the nickname one he’s had for the twins since they were in diapers.

He gets out of his parked car and heads to the backseat, reaching in and unbuckling the girls from their car seats and helping them down to the ground, making sure to hand them their jackets, backpacks and lunchboxes before extending his hands for them to hold onto.

Feeling his daughters grip his fingers, he helps walk them across the parking lot and inside the school, stopping in the main office to sign himself in as a visitor and put on a name tag before walking down the hallway to the kindergarten wing.

The trio passes several brightly colored murals on the walls, Lillie pointing out her favorite animals on the one nearest to them as they make their way further down the hallway, coming to a stop outside of the classroom. Giving the girls’ hands a small squeeze, he tells them it’s time before opening the door.

The first thing Javi notices is how comfortable the classroom feels.

He sees a big comfortable rug in the front of the room near the whiteboard, a few of the twin’s new classmates sitting on it with some books as other kids play at their desks. The room is decorated with neutral colors and has several big cushions spread across the floor, almost like the cushions the girls have in their playroom at home.

Around the room the desks are organized in little groups, each with a label of the student’s names written in delicate cursive, a small water bottle and a snack already placed on the desk.

Javi doesn’t notice the two girls letting go of his hands and running off to find their desks, instead looking at the front of the classroom and seeing the “welcome” message written on the board, welcoming both students and parents to their first day of kindergarten. Javi feels a smile play at his lips at the “classroom mascot” at the front of the room, a small green stuffed chameleon that he would recognize anywhere, pascal, from his daughters’ favorite movie tangled.

The girls were going to love this teacher.

Just as he turns to tell the girls, he bumps into someone behind him.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking!” Javi exclaims, his eyes widening when he realizes he just knocked down the poor woman behind him. Looking down, he sees the you look up at him with a smile, which causes him to raise an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, don’t worry!” he hears you exclaim, watching as you brush the pant legs of your brown corduroy overalls off, “I work with kindergartners so i’m used to things like this.” you laugh, reaching out to take Javi’s extended hand and stand back up.

Javi feels like an idiot, he knocked over his girls’ teacher.

Once in your feet, you introduce yourself to him, your name sounding like honey coming from your lips. Feeling a small bit of butterflies in his stomach, Javi coughs nervously before introducing himself, pointing over to his girls seated over at their desks and telling you they are his babies.

“Aw they are so precious!” You smile, taking a look and seeing them talk to some of their desk mates, “I made sure to sit them together, I know how scary it can be on your first day of school, and I figured sitting them together might put them at ease,” you say softly, a smile pulling at your lips at the sight of your new students.

Javi feels a bit of weight has been taken off of his shoulders - he was worried the girls might even be in separate classrooms - something they had never had before - but he knows he’s lucky to have them stay together. He looks over at his daughters with a smile before turning back to you, the smile on your face contagious.

“Thank you,” he says appreciatively, “I was worried about them - I’m still worried i’m not going to lie,” he laughs nervously, looking down at his feet for a moment as a flush of embarrassment washes over him like a tidal wave.

You tilt your head at him and nod, “It’s normal to be nervous Mr. Peña,” you start, reaching out your hand to rest on his arm as he looks back up at you, chocolate eyes locked on yours, “this is a big step for the three of you. Getting here and dropping them off is the hardest part I promise you, your girls are in good hands.”

Javi nods along with your words, finding your tone and sentiments calming to him, the warm flush of embarrassment across his body beginning to fade away.

“I’m not one of those helicopter parents,” he laughs, “but I worry about them, it’s just me and I’m scared to be away from them.”

Javi doesn’t miss the way your face falls after his small joke, taking in the real information in his statement. You nod gently squeeze his arm before pulling your hand away. “I understand Mr. Peña, I know how hard this is for you. I promise you that i’ll take care of your girls, and if anything happens or if they miss you too much, i’ll give you a call and you can come right back.”

Javi feels like he could cry. What did he do to deserve such a nice teacher.

“Is that okay Mr. Peña?” you ask, your head tilting to the side as a few more students and parents trickle into the classroom.

“Javi, you can call me Javi,” he says, watching as your smile returns.

“Okay Javi, I look forwards to getting to know you better. I’ll see you this afternoon for pick up.” you smile, giving him a nod before walking away to welcome your new students.

Javi watches with a smile as you walk over to the tables where his girls are and bend down to introduce yourself and he hears the way you compliment their braids, to which Lillie points his way and says “daddy did these braids!” Looking up at Javi, you give him a big smile before turning back to the girls and continuing conversation with their desk mates, the butterflies in Javi’s stomach multiplying by the second.

God he was so screwed.

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