#i’m going to be warm on the train especially if its crowded but whatever.

[mysteriousbeetle]

i only had five minutes to go home and i spent it all looking for my special bag which i didn’t find and now my room is extra messy because i messed it up to look for the bag and i forgot to change my jacket to the less warm jacket so now i’m too warm and i’m going to be too warm for a while. at least i caught the bus i needed to catch.

[meowzfordayz]

as if

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~600

CW: alcohol

Emergency Request Fulfilled: This year, especially this summer has been really rough and the past few days, it's kind of caught up and I've been feeling very down  and lost kind of neglected. I was wondering if you could write a drabble or something for demon slayer with a reader that has been feeling that way and with some agnst and comfort with Giyuu, Sanemi or Tengen and (if you write for him, idr if you do 😅) Ubuyashiki. Preferably romantic but platonic is fine too.

“Feeling low?”

His voice catches you off guard; an almost lyrical inflection coated by familiar gruffness, the cold bite of winter numbing his intended concern to a flat tone.

“Yeah,” you mutter, refusing to meet his lilac stare, “Something like that.”

He strides closer, bodily presence impossible to ignore. You’re certain if you glanced up that his shirt would be undone — despite the chill in the sparsely crowded tavern.

“Y’know, it isn’t healthy to mull over death alone.”

“So how do you spend your time in between missions, Shinazugawa-san?” you retort softly, waving an uninterested hand in his direction, “By all means, enlighten me.”

Laughing coolly, Sanemi drags out the chair beside you, sitting lazy and spread in its wooden seat, hazy threads of burnt jasmine and damp earth wafting toward you.

“I train. I bathe. I check in on my fellow slayers.”

Snorting lightly, you finally fix a dithering expression on his earnest gaze, nearly swallowing your quip at the faint glow in his eyes, “Ah, well, good to know you care about your personal hygiene.”

Blinking slowly, his brow furrows, arms crossing over the bareness of his chest, “You believe me?”

“Believe what?” you scoff amusedly, “I’ve never known you to justify yourself to anyone.”

Scowling, his arms cross tighter, skin aching with fatigue, “Your approval doesn’t matter to me.”

You shrug, “Okay.”

You return to your tokkuri, sake still warm as you pour yourself another cup, its sharp scent stinging your nose when you take a slow, pointed sip.

Thud.

A matching cup slams ungracefully onto the counter, taunting air thickening around you as you glare at the scarred fingers beckoning slyly. With a long exhale, you fill his cup.

“Just making small talk,” he murmurs, saccharine and smug, “I appreciate your generosity.”

“You’re terrible,” you huff, hastily downing another cup, noting the abrupt loss of weight in the tokkuri with dismay, “Shinazugawa-san, I didn’t think you drank.”

Cup pinched between his thumb and index fingertips, Sanemi sniffs carefully, face scrunching at the clean tang of fermentation. He sets the cup aside, humming in agreement.

You snap, mouth twisting frustrated and impatient, voice hushed and scathing, “Why harass me into sharing with you if you’re not even going to try it?”

“Someone died,” he replies blandly, cup lifted and tilted, alcohol gone in a single, smooth movement, “On my watch.”

Unimpressed, you resist the urge to kick the leg of his chair, knowing he’d likely block and consequently injure you instead, “So you sought out the nearest slayer to console yourself?”

“I’m not the consoling type.”

And then he touches your wrist.

It’s a fleeting, mindless gesture, and yet it extends on for forever, overflowing with consideration and contemplation, never thoughtless because it’s him. It’s Shinazugawa-san—unapproachable, distant, angry—Shinazugawa Sanemi. He doesn’t acknowledge his proximity, bumping demandingly against the back of your hand, this time reaching for the tokkuri.

“Distract?” you squeak, overly conscious of how clear your quickening pulse must sound.

“Mhm,” he nods, hoping you’re fixated enough on your own nerves to miss how delicately his are fraying too.

“You can be pretty cruel,” you sniff, dizzying chewiness in your head making it harder and harder to forget the calloused graze of his clammy heat, “Buy me a drink?”

“Whatever.”

He laughs—an abrupt, staccato laugh—nonchalantly ordering another round of your sake, all too aware of the tenderness melting the stiffness from your attention. Of the discomforting pressure in his sternum when you grin triumphantly. As if I didn’t let you win.

As if you could ever lose.

[xblackreader]

a mother's love: okoye's version

1.2k+ words | attoye | warnings: none, just cute

attuma x okoye fluff - ft. tadeas, xyanza, nobomi, yolotli, and kuhle...

“The joy of motherhood comes in moments. There will be hard times and frustrating times. But amid the challenges, there are shining moments of joy and satisfaction.” - Okoye

As children, our first experiences of love and comfort often come from the embrace of our mothers.

She was warm and safe. Her embrace was like a soft cloud that cushioned me from any worries or fears. Even as a teenager, when the challenges of life grew more complex and demanding, there were still moments when I sought solace in my mother's embrace.

Tadeas slinks onto his parent's room, all over six feet and almost two hundred pounds of him. “Umama…” he laments, uncharacteristically. He’s sixteen years old and he’s tired from training; he wants his mother. And as he slides his feet over the hardwood floor and groans, his mother kisses her teeth and shakes her head.

Okoye pulls her glasses down her nose and looks up from her book. “Yes? Are you okay?” Her son doesn’t respond just comes to stand over her as she looks him up and down. He stands there, simply watching her for a moment with half-lidded eyes and a frown. “Tad-“

WHOMPH! Suddenly her massive son flopped on top of her and envelops his mother in a full-body bear hug. “Ah! No! You’re too big for this! Too old to sit on my lap! Tadeas! Stop- ATTUMA!”

Her book and her last read pages are lost in the scuffle.

Minutes later…

Tadeas leaned into his mother's touch, feeling the warmth and love radiating from her as she pressed gentle kisses onto his cheeks and forehead. Her hands, calloused from years of battle, now softened as they caressed his face, offering comfort and solace. 

Okoye rubs her hands over his face, pressing kisses into his cheeks and forehead while her youngest daughters all crowd to ask about her day. They came to her aid since her husband was not home. But they couldn’t move their brother. “You need your sister to retwist your hair.” 

Her son huffed and pushed one of his younger sisters off the bed when she slapped him with her tiny hand. “Xyanza is mad at me.” Okoye kissed her teeth. “You are always upsetting her. Xyanza!” 

After a groan and a few moments, her oldest daughter, Xyanza, appears snickering at her brother’s antics. “I can’t move him. Sorry, mama.” 

“That’s not what I need, will you please retwist his hair?”

 “No.”

A mother’s look. “Pardon me?”

 Xyanza pouts and tries again. “He was rude to me today. I don’t want to.”

Okoye smacks her son's back and he groans again. “Were you rude to my daughter?” 

“Uh…”

Earlier…

Sitting at the family table, Tadeas sighed and leaned back against the kitchen chair, feeling a mix of frustration and vulnerability. Being a sixteen-year-old boy was no easy task on its own, but especially when you were the son of the Warrior Okoye of the Border Tribe and the General of Talokan Attuma. 

Tadeas had always felt the weight of his mixed heritage and the expectations that came with his ancestors, struggling to find his place in both worlds. As the son of two generals in-

“Big freaking deal…” His twin sister scoffed, reading his diary over his shoulder. “Need I remind you, I am also their child?... and you make it more complicated than it needs to be.” She playfully stuck her tongue out at her brother when he glared at her.

“It’s different. I am the oldest ,” He snarked.

“By like, fourteen minutes.”

“Meaning I’m fourteen minutes smarter than you.” He snarled at his sister, turning back to his journal. “Besides I’m the one child they have that matters. I have more responsibility, dipshit.”

Xyanza put her hands on her hips and started to cut up a piece of fruit for her to eat a snack. “Whatever. Can you go be stinky somewhere else?”

“You don't own this kitchen. And I was here first, so you can leave especially since you smell like shit.”

“I smell good! You look homeless!”

He doesn’t answer so she pinches his cheek until her triplets begin to giggle and pinch him as well. He groans and flings the little triplets away from him. They complain about how fat he is until he smacks at them to go away and leave him with his mother.

“She was being stupid.” “See, Mommy?!”

Another slap is administered to his back and he tightens his arms around his mother’s waist, ignoring her entirely.

“Apologize to your sister at once. It’s ridiculous I must tell you this at sixteen years old!”

“She’s always rude to me.” Okoye kisses her teeth. 

“Not my baby girl. Apologize for being rude to her.” She runs her hands through his locs, even when they’re demons she can’t help but adore everything they do. They are fruits of her labor, how could she not love them?

“...Sorry, Xyanza.”

Okoye cooed when he hid his face in her stomach and tried to rest again. It reminded her of when he was a baby…

“Please do his hair, my lovely girl. He has a training seminar coming up that he has to lead.” She licks a thumb and straightens his eyebrows. He makes a face just like his father. “He won’t embarrass me looking like a lost tribe rapper.”

“His apology was pathetic! He didn’t even mean it.”

Okoye bit back a sigh. With five stubborn children in her home that’s all she could do. That’s what she gets for picking a stubborn man.

Or maybe this was retribution for how Okoye treated her mother as a teenager…

“How do you know he didn’t mean it?” “I didn’t.” “Tadeas!” She hisses at him, but there’s only so much to be done about his smart mouth.

Xyanza glares toward him, then walks out of the room grumbling under her breath.

The front door opens and then the cloth moves as they hear metal hit the ground with heavy footsteps.

“Daddy!” One of the triplets, Nobomi, cries. Yolotli follows suit and the three girls begin to chant and file out of the room.

As Attuma steps through the threshold of his home and sheds his armor at the entrance, he is immediately greeted by the sight of his three daughters running to embrace him with open arms. Okoye hears him grunt a few times as they undoubtedly have jumped into his arms and made him carry them. 

“Your father will come and free me,” Okoye whispers to her son, tickling his neck as he grunts annoyed. She giggles then watches the entrance of the room.

Attuma walks into their bedroom moments later with three daughters hanging off his shoulders. Tired but smiling and Okoye smiles back.

He looks down at his son who is holding his wife hostage.

“Get off my woman.” 

“...No.”

Okoye laughs at them both and smacks Attuma’s hand away when he reaches to push Tadeas off. “He’s tired…”

Attuma smirked, laughing at his son grunting in displeasure from being pushed. “I am more tired than he is. And he has his own bed.”

Tadeas’ shirt is gripped in the back and he’s suddenly lifted. The girls hanging off Attuma like Barnacles ooh and ahh. 

He’s wrenched from his mother's embrace despite his scrambling to stay in place and flopped onto the foot of the bed. Grumbling about his father being unfair, he stands slowly and stretches his arms up.

They all watch with unimpressed faces as he lets out a loud yell that scared his sisters and then walks out of the room.

Okoye snorts and then sighs, picking her book back up. “Thank you, Attu-“

WHOMPH! And her even bigger husband takes his son's place on top of her. He falls asleep immediately and there’s nothing she can do.

“You massive IDIOT!”

“There’s no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one. In my darkest moments, I clung to my mother.”

Her oldest triplet, Yolotli rested her ear on Mama’s stomach while the other children sank around her, stealing their mother's warmth while their father prepared them dinner.

“Mama?” She whispered.

Okoye carded her hands through her oldest daughter's hair and scratched at her only son's back, they both faded to sleep quickly in their mother's arms. They all kept her so warm, inside and out.

“Do I have to be pregnant too?”

Okoye snorted and shook her head, “You do not, my love.” Xyanza laughed from her place at her mother’s feet as well.

“How do I avoid it? It seems to always happen to you…” Tadeas wheezes in laughter then.

“Because Baba has no sense or restraint- OW!” He is pinched on his ear and his mother purses her lips. “Who taught you to be so disrespectful?” “You!”

Okoye kisses her teeth and shakes her head and her giggling children. She turned back to her daughter and rolled her eyes toward her son. Yolotli nods, though she doesn't understand why they are doing this; she just does what Mama says.

The mother of five, but soon be of six, felt the offspring in her womb kick at this conversation, a strong and powerful kick that reminded her of whom she was married to…

“Stay away from men. Especially the tall handsome ones with a sweet tongue.”

“They made you pregnant?”

“No!” Attuma huffs from the other room, deciding to intervene since her mother was giggling. “You will not even think of that for fifty years!”

Okoye rolls her eyes. “What about when they get partners?” She yelled back at him.

“No boyfriends or girlfriends. No dating until marriage.”

“You’re ridiculous! My children, you may date when we approve of the person and deem it appropriate.”

Their daughter pouted, settling in the empty space glued to her mother’s side. “Yuum will never approve… that’s why Xyanza is still single…” Xyanza whips her head around to stare incredulously at her sister. “Oh, it’s like that? Yu’um scares off all the men!”

“That’s right!”

“Attuma, be quiet!”

…

This is them :3 and heres where you can learn more about ���em

And here’s where you can read my lil domestic fic with the attoye fam

[vivisandg]

“Oh, sorry!”

I had this idea at four in the morning, and it’s 4:15…so, yk how it goes. I’m thinking this could be a series.

Summary: you quite literally run into an infamous Weasley while on the train to Hogwarts.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader

Requested: no

Warnings: prob some cringe worthy moments and fluff, Im also American so Ill rephrase stuff, but otherwise, no.

    Excited, nervous, anxious, happy...all words for what I was feeling about this school year. On my eleventh birthday I was sent an owl, no joke. An owl flew up to my kitchen window with an envelope in its mouth while Mom and I were making cookies. The envelope happened to be a letter from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school of magic. Mom and I were shocked, so we followed the letter’s directions and the next thing I knew this guy named Rubeus Hagrid was leading Mom and I to a place called Diagon Alley. There were so many magical shops including Ollivander’s which held my very own wand that I will have for the rest of my life. 14 inches of beautiful, silvery-white, aspen wood with a unicorn hair for a core. It’s already my closest friend aside from the white Eurasian Eagle owl I bought from the Magical Menagerie. I named him Pogonip, or Pogo for short.  After I got everything, Mom and I went home to get ready for King's Cross the next day.

I start walking to platform 9 with Mom and see a ginger lady sending off her kids by telling them to run through the wall between 9 and 10. I don't know what to think so I say one final goodbye to my mother and off I run through the wall. I appear in a crowded area where kids are getting on a train called the Hogwarts Express. This is it, I think, I'm going to Hogwarts. 

I board the train with Pogo and find a compartment to sit in. I decide to go to the bathroom once the train's pulled out and on my way back I run into a blur of red hair. "Oh, sorry!" a voice says to me, the weight had actually knocked my light ass onto the ground. "Are you alright?" the voice asks me. I respond with a muttered “yes” as the surprisingly strong arms help me up to my feet. When I regain my vision completely I see a very handsome boy about my age, by the looks of it, scanning my face for bruises or whatever might appear on my complexion. “I’m Fred,” says the freckled ginger, “Y/N,” I respond.

Fred offers to walk me to his compartment where I am greeted with another ginger that is obviously his identical twin. Which one was older or more sane, I couldn’t tell…yet. “Y/N met George, George, Y/N,” Fred says as he opens the sliding glass door for me. I meet George’s gaze and realize that George has stony, cold, blueish-grey eyes, while Fred has warm, chocolate-brown ones. I learned quickly not to let his eyes deceive me; George seemed more devious and silly than Fred which was saying a lot. Fred appeared almost shy next the younger twin. “So, Y/N,” George begins, “did the letter come as a shock to you?” Fred elbows George lightly, but hard enough to make George let out a slight grunt. I didn’t know of this was supposed to be rude or anything, so I took the safest route possible and answered with a “yes”.

*later at Hogwarts for the sorting. We’ll make Y/N a Gryffindor just fro the sake of the story line…and in case I make this a series😏. She’s gotten to know the twins very well by this point*

I walk with the twins and all the other first years to Gryffindor common room. My new home, I think to myself. My new family for the next seven years, actually scratch that, my new family forever.  The thought gives me this feeling that I can’t figure out the name of. It’s not a bad feeling, though, so I don’t worry about it too much. After the three hour train ride, I’e gotten to know the Weasley twins quite well…especially Fred. Have I started to grow feelings for him? Maybe, do I know yet? Im pretty sure I do. Will I let that get in the way of our new-found friendship? Absolutely not, it might just be a crush. I guess I’ll wait and find out.

“So, how you doing Midget?” I already know it’s Fred, he developed that name in the first 20 minutes we met. It’s been almost a week since that wonderful, anxious, nerve-wracking day that I would pay anything to go through again. “I’m alright, Ginger,” I didn’t make that name up until now, I just wanted something to retaliate with. “Ginger? Since when was that my name?” He asks. “Since now,” I say. He smirks at this, I think he thinks it’s some sort of game I’ve managed to make up in my abnormally large brain; I’m currently excelling at everything, including Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts which my professors were not expecting. “Alright,” he says, lightly slugging me in the shoulder. If he thinks it’s a game, then let the games begin…

Part 2?

[amjustagirl]

Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)

feat. Kuroo Tetsuro

As requested by @forgetou (hope you love it bb!)

Previously: Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. Kita Shinsuke

Masterlist link here

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

A/N: Any other characters you’d like to see? Send me an ask! 

(happy to do any characters other than Kenma / Hinata / Tendo - I don’t trust myself to do them justice!)

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

‘So I hear you’re going to fill in for Hinata next match?’ 

Your head whips around. A growl builds up in your throat. 

You’d recognise that sleaze ball voice anywhere - Kuroo Tetsuro, Slytherin prefect, top student in potions and more importantly, the scumbag keeper that formulated a strategy (alongside Oikawa, that brat - but that’s besides the point) to completely break down the Gryffindor chaser trio of Hinata, Lev and Yamamoto when Iwaizumi was out for an injury the last Quidditch match. 

If you weren’t playing against them, you’d admit that the Slytherin strategy was perfect. Suna and Daishou caged Hinata in with non-stop bludger head shots, and the Miya twins flew literal circles around Lev - still a beginner, so you’ll cut him some slack, so much that the two idiots collided when Kuroo feinted forward and they thought they finally had a chance to score. 

So now you have to step into Hinata’s position for the match next weekend.

You like Quidditch well enough, but you don’t have an overwhelming passion for it the way Hinata or Oikawa or Atsumu or heck, even Yaku does - monsters, the lot of them. You play it for fun, you enjoy being a reserve member, and you’d never expected that you’d have to play in an actual match with Iwaizumi, Lev, Hinata and Yamamoto all playing chaser already. 

You’re scared - and you hate feeling this way, especially a Gryffindor like you, so you snarl and hiss and kick your feet when Yaku drags you away from Kuroo, the demon keeper scolding you not to ‘cause a scene in the Great Hall - seriously, what are you five?’, though Lev and Yamamoto cheers you on. 

‘Come on, let’s make a bet on our match next weekend’, Kuroo calls after you, and you flail hard in Yaku’s arms enough that Yaku loses not just his balance, but his grip on you. 

‘Sure’, you shout defiantly, not caring that the pair of you have attracted an audience. You can see the entire Slytherin team five steps away, matching Cheshire grins on all of their faces. Your blood boils and you’re ready to accept the terms of whatever stupid bet this rooster head proposes. 

Kuroo’s grin widens. ‘I bet you can’t even get five goals past me.’ 

‘I bet you I can’, you retort, even as your heart sinks. Kuroo isn’t quite as good as Yaku, but he’s devious and brilliant at feints and you’re not even a starter on the Gryffindor team. But you’ve dug yourself into a hole, and you’re determined to commit to your position, damnit, so you keep your voice steady as you ask for his terms. 

‘If I win, you’ll have to go on a date with me the next weekend’. He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, eyes crinkling at its corners in amusement as you mouth an outraged ‘what the hell?’ and Yaku starts shouting bloody murder himself. 

You gather yourself and resist Yaku’s attempts at pulling you away. ‘And if I win, what do I get?’ 

Kuroo laughs airily. ‘I highly doubt that, but name your price, sweetheart’. 

You think of the most embarrassing thing you could possibly inflict on this smug bastard, your eyes landing on the ridiculous mop of hair on his head and it’s your turn to grin, sharp and full of edges. 

‘Fine. If I win, you’ll shave your head’. 

‘Deal.’ 

Kuroo sticks his hand out to you and you take it. You feel like you’ve just made a deal with the devil himself. 

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

Iwaizumi nags you to bits when Yaku tells him of the entire debacle, the Gryffindor keeper throwing himself dramatically across the locker room bench, complaining that he’s done being a damn babysitter to this lot of idiots without any sense of self preservation. 

‘You’re gonna need a whole lot of training in that case’, Iwaizumi tells you grimly, and you sigh, because you know it’s not going to do any good. 

And you’re right, because even though you’ve spent the entire week training and running drills in snow and sleet and rain, it’s not enough. You barely get three goals against Kuroo in the match, let alone five - and to be fair, one of them was when you literally threw Lev against him when the referee wasn’t looking, so you resign yourself to his mocking looks when the whistle blows, marking the end of the match where Oikawa outsmarts Kageyama to grab the snitch out of the air first. You feel a kinship with the captured snitch, the pathetic fluttering of its wings so much like your futile attempts to win the damn bet. 

Kuroo smirks at you knowingly when you refuse to take his hand at the end of the game. ‘I guess I’ll be seeing you next weekend?’ he asks, eyes glinting as you huff and fold your arms across your chest. 

‘Fine, I guess’, you answer with a distinct lack of grace. You don’t notice when his smirk turns into a genuine smile. 

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

The Gryffindor boys crowd around you, groaning in disappointment when you tell them no they’re not allowed to follow you around Hogsmeade, even if you’re on a date with Kuroo Tetsuro - and no, Lev, a disguise is not going to work, your height and ridiculous hair makes you far too conspicuous for that! 

‘I’ll beat him up if he does anything’, Iwaizumi threatens, and you roll your eyes at his overprotective streak. 

‘I’ll be fine’, you reply, shrugging off Yaku’s attempts at giving you ridiculous magic artifacts intended to ward off wandering hands. Kuroo Tetsuro may be insufferable and smug and a general pain in the butt, but he’s not an absolute piece of shit - plus, you’re handy with your wands in duels so you’re certain you can handle anything he throws at you. 

You don’t even bother putting on a lick of makeup when you prepare to meet him. He magicks an enchanted paper plane to land on your desk during potions to tell you that he’ll pick you up from Gryffindor tower at three o’clock sharp, and he’s leaning against the pillar with feline grace as you tumble out of the portrait hole, your teammates shooting him deadly glares as he sweeps you off with his palm warm against the small of your back. 

‘Want to grab a drink first?’ he asks, with a surprising amount of concern when your nose turns pink in the cold. 

You nod hesitantly, expecting him to drag you into the pink and white monstrosity that is Madam Puddifoots to complete your humiliation, but he doesn’t - holding the door open to the Three Broomsticks, ushering you into the corner booth, ordering a pint of butterbeer for you. 

‘My team’s not here, don’t worry’, he says, laughing when you glance around the pub, eyes narrowed for any signs of that odious Oikawa or the bothersome Miya twins - or worse, snarky Suna and devious Daishou, but Kuroo isn’t lying, none of them are around to witness the indignity of your date with one Kuroo Tetsuro. 

‘Do you drag unwilling girls into pubs often?’ you snark, tapping your fingers on the table irritably. 

‘Nah, only you’, he answers easily, smirk widening with mirth when you wrinkle your nose at him. ‘Come on, lighten up a bit - we might as well get to know each other since we’re going to be spending the whole afternoon together.’

‘Fine’, you say sourly, brightening only when the bartender brings your drinks. ‘Why don’t you tell me about yourself’. 

 And so even though you’ve been classmates with Kuroo for years, you learn for the first time that he’s not intending to be a professional Quidditch player when he graduates next year, even though you admit he’s a talented keeper in his own right. 

‘Really? You’re giving up Quidditch?’

‘Yeah - I have it all thought out I’m going to study potions further and figure out how to revolutionise the potions industry - d’you know the muggles have a pharmaceuticals industry that’s like our potions industry, only hugely profitable?’ 

It’s so typical of a Slytherin that you can’t help but snort. 

But then he disarms you with funny stories of himself growing up. You learn that his parents separated when he was only five, and as a result, he stayed mostly with his grandparents growing up. You learn that he was lonely and shy and awkward - really? you? you choke on your butterbeer incredulously  - at least until he moved next door to Kenma from Ravenclaw. 

‘I introduced him to Quidditch, and he’s a natural at coming up with strategies’, he says proudly, proceeding to chatter fondly of quiet, unsociable Kenma, who you can tell is his little brother in all but name and blood.

You tell him about growing up with three older brothers - all Gryffindors, just like you. He listens to your stories about breaking your arm when you stole your eldest brother’s broom, chuckles at your recounting of the pranks you pull on your teammates to remind them that you may be a girl, but you can take of yourself just fine - because Iwaizumi and Yaku tend to take their protective side a tad too far sometimes.  

It’s so pleasant that you forget that your date is the result of a bet, and you don’t even think twice about raising a napkin to gently wipe the froth from butterbeer off the corner of Kuroo’s mouth - it comes with the territory of being teammates with messy eaters like Hinata and Kageyama - until he freezes in shock. 

‘I’m sorry!’ you blurt out, mortified. But instead of teasing you for your forwardness, Kuroo turns bright red and gapes at you. He must think you’re an idiot. ‘Um - d’you want to check out Honeydukes before they close?’ you ask, in a desperate attempt to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation.

That jolts Kuroo out of his daze. Thankfully, any awkwardness vanishes when he slides out of his seat to steal the bill from you. You complain because he refuses point blank to split the bill with you, and he even playfully keeps his hands above his head to avoid your attempts at pressing coins into his hands until you reach the candy store. 

You watch in amusement as he loads his basket with chocolates and sweets for his team. He gets dark chocolate for Miya Osamu, and white chocolate for his twin Atsumu - at this point, I’m convinced they’re just determined to like the opposite of what the other prefers just to be contrary, he laughingly tells you. He gets creamy nougats for Oikawa - I should stop by the bread store to get him mlik bread, but his fangirls spoil him enough so I shan’t, he says. Ice mice for Suna to prank the twins with, tooth flossing stringmints for Daishou - he needs to clean his fangs, he jokes, and a whole bunch of chocolate frogs to be used as bribes for Kenma to go to bed on time. 

It’s lovely and warm in the store. You have a good time tossing fizzing frisbees behind the storekeeper’s back at Kuroo, dodging as he tries to drop jellybeans down your shirt. At the checkout counter, you protest again when he slyly tells the cashier that he’ll pay for your purchases on top of his, and he doesn’t even let you carry your own chocolates as you’re walking back to the castle. 

‘I’m perfectly capable of carrying a bag of chocolates by myself’, you huff, annoyed that yet another boy is treating you as though you’re made of glass. 

‘I believe you’ Kuroo replies emphatically, pressing his hand to his chest with  dramatic flair. ‘But I’m also a kind and considerate soul, because someone forgot to bring her gloves, and I’m going to need to save your hands if you actually want a shot at trying to get more goals past me next time’. 

You scowl. ‘Fine’, but you relent grudgingly. You didn’t even know he noticed that your hands are numb and cold. You’ve just never enjoyed the cold, and to make matters worse, it’s snowing. A chilly wind picks up, and you sneeze thrice in quick succession. 

‘Can’t wait to get back indoors, or can’t wait for the date to be over?’, he comments as you pick up your pace, trudging through the cold wet snow. You open your mouth to retort, but your jaw drops when he tugs you to a stop, tucking his cloak securely over your shoulders. His body heat and the faint scent of cinnamon and butterbeer still lingers in the fabric and you can’t help but wrap his cloak tighter around yourself.  

‘There’, he says, satisfied. ‘Better?’  

You nod, not trusting yourself to respond. 

He walks you all the way back to Gryffindor tower and when you try to return his cloak, to your surprise, he refuses to take it back. 

‘Keep it for our next date’, he tells you cheekily, laughing when your eyes widen and you choke on your breath. 

‘I don’t recall hearing you ask for a second date’, you reply archly when your body finally stops its attempts at expelling your lungs from your chest. 

‘Well, I am now’, he replies. 

You look at him. Though the smirk he wears on his lips is unwavering, you can see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. And though you’d never think you’d ever say it, but the afternoon was a pleasure, and Kuroo was a lovely date. 

You - you like him, this adorable dork of a boy who’s both charming and confident yet awkward and uncertain at the same time. He’s caring and funny and ambitious and there are so many facets of him that you’ve only discovered today - and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re curious enough to want to delve deeper into the enigma that is one Kuroo Tetsuro. 

‘Fine’, you mumble, the tips of your ears turning pink. This time it’s definitely not from the cold. 

‘Yeah?’ he asks, quietly, uncertainly. 

‘Yeah’, you reply softly, casting your gaze down to the floor, suddenly shy. You don’t notice him take a step forward, startling as he gently tilts your chin up to face him. Your first instinct is to snap at him for coming so close, but he’s too quick for you to even react, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead, tenderly tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. 

‘Next week then’, he says, with a wide smile before sweeping off, leaving you standing in the middle of the corridor, mouth open in shock. 

The portrait door swings open. 

‘WHY ARE YOU IN GREEN AND SILVER?!’ 

‘HOLY SHIT, WAIT A MINUTE IS THAT KUROO’S CLOAK?’ 

‘Did he curse you? DO WE NEED TO DEFEND YOUR HONOUR?’ 

You bury your burning face in your hands. Your teammates are not going to take this well. 

[bastillia]

Loyalties Lie

AO3 Mirror

Summary: You're a bartender in a Lothal cantina, living a quiet life in the Outer Rim after the fall of the Empire. You can't help but wonder what more might be out there for you. One dangerous guest in particular keeps catching your eye. Unfortunately, you've also caught his.

Rating: E

Words: 6.1k

Warnings: possibly mild dubcon, threats with a weapon, rough sex, verbal degradation, mentions of alcohol, cumplay, Boba Fett has a 24oz monster can dick and he knows how to use it.

A/N: Remember when I said I had a Boba Fett WIP laying around like, months ago? Well guess who showed up in Mando S2 with a sexy dad bod and the fattest dick in the galaxy to overhaul my dreams and make them a reality. Fuck me. Yes this is the first thing I’ve written in months hi I’m still here. No I don’t know how many chapters this will be. I live in hell. Welcome. Thank you to @kylorengarbagedump​ for graciously beta reading and listening to me literally scream about this man all the time. Love y’all so much PLEASE ENJOY.

**

It’s the kind of night that hums. 

Like a moonlit Lothal prairie, quiet and alive somewhere beyond the outskirts of town. Except that in here, the crickets swoop past your bar to buy shots, and the stars fall steadily to become the lovely tink of credits in your tip jar. The twin moons are shifting hues of neon light, and time seems to stroll by, like it has nowhere better to be.

Tonight has been steady. 

It’s not busy enough tonight to challenge you, but not slow enough to let you rest. Your guard is up, as it always is when you’re behind the bar. But your hold on it can afford to be loose. 

Tonight has been…

Boring. 

No brawls, no assassinations, not even a drunken paw fumbling across the bar towards your tits, attached to some overly rowdy patron who you then get to watch with quiet glee as they’re dragged out by the ears. No, in fact, it’s hard to remember the last time something remotely interesting happened around here. So much for the Outer Rim’s rugged reputation. You hate to say you miss the Empire’s occupation from time to time. But at least it brought nightly intrigue.

Tonight, your guests are especially calm and happy, lulled by liquor and the easy flow of conversation, murmurs blending like a stream through the grassland. And you suppose you shouldn’t complain. You’ve more than earned your keep for the night, and then some. Best of all, your boss has no reason to be breathing down your neck. 

In fact, he’s happy, too, you note when the Lasat’s bellowing business-laugh resounds overtop a few flutes of spotchka, glowing inside a booth across the room. You pass a cloth around the rim of a clean glass, feeling a tickle of interest as to who he might be schmoozing this time. When you glance up, you can just make out a pair of well-dressed Rodians seated across from him through the leisure-thick air of the cantina, nudging each other and laughing at whatever witty, schmoozy thing he just said. 

A soft snort puffs through your nose. At least Dakk is a predictable man, if nothing else. Must be rich folk, probably well connected. Good. You’ll get no help tonight, but at least he will be occupied for a while.

In fact...

Flicking a quick glance around the room, you take your chance and shrug your outer tunic off your shoulders, quickly smoothing down your much more revealing undershirt until it clings to the shape of you. You know Dakk hates when you do this, always goes on about keeping the place “classy.” But he’s not looking, and if it puts a few extra credits in your jar by the end of the night, it’s worth it. Anyway, you’re in a good mood tonight. Bored nonetheless, and the combination always forges a mischievous kind of boldness in you; a tiny spark that glows just bright enough to cast the idea of consequence in shadow.

You scan the bar for an empty drink, a flirtatious urge rolling off of your freshly bared skin and filling your ribs with air. It’s not long before you hone on your target-- an unsuspecting guest sitting alone, head turned away. Probably eavesdropping. A smirk curves your lips and you sidle over, plink a glass down between you, leaning your elbows on the bartop. 

“Something else for you, sugar?”

His head whips around with a guilty swiftness, but you just offer an easy smile, shifting your weight through your hips to coax his eyes down your body. It works like a charm.

“I, uh...“ The young Mirialan stammers directly at your tits. “Yeah, c-can I, ah…” 

As you wait out his struggle, an idea sparks in your freshly emboldened mind. Maker’s sake, might as well help the poor thing out. 

“Got a ruge liqueur in stock, last shipment off Alderaan. Rare these days.” Your lashes flutter, tongue just barely playing your along your lower lip as if teasing some unspoken promise. “I just couldn’t help but notice, you seem like a person of exceptional taste.”

The words are warm summer air on your tongue, practiced and enticing. You can see them go to the kid’s head like spice smoke, his cheeks immediately flushing deep emerald beneath diamond-shaped tattoos. 

“Y-yeah?” He straightens, runs a hand through his hair, grinning sheepishly. “I mean...yeah! I, uh, I am. That s-sounds great, yeah. Um. Please.”

You smile. Too easy. 

Now, it’s not technically a lie. You do have the ruge in stock, it’s just that--well, it’s definitely nothing this kid can afford. But you’d bet a week’s worth of tips that you can slip him a cheap offworld varietal instead. Charge him triple its price, pocket the excess. Poor thing wouldn’t know the real stuff if it bit him.

You swell with the thought. That amount might even let you buy something nice for yourself for once. It might be a little slimy, but... fuck it. Kid seems well off enough. Decently nice clothes, cologne, that misplaced air of belonging that comes with sheltered entitlement. Surely he won’t miss a few extra credits. Anyway, you deserve this, right?

Moving to speak again, you prepare to lay the flirting on thick, really sell the gambit. But before you get the chance, a loud bang snaps your attention upward just in time to see the cantina door slam open. 

You straighten where you stand, irritation and curiosity pricking your ears in equal measure. But then a slight hush cuts the ease of your buzzing meadow, and your chest squeezes with it.

Boba Fett.

The hunter takes up almost the whole doorway, a broad tower of matte green beskar catching the soft neons of the cantina. The distinctly cold gaze of the Mandalorian helmet scans the room, stirring murmurs and averting eyes until it comes to rest, finally, upon you.

It feels like two cold weights set down on your shoulders, being the focus of that stare. 

Even as the energy picks back up around you, as conversations cautiously resume, it’s like you’re trapped in it, breathless under its weight and unable to look away. You vaguely register the Mirialan turn back to your tits and ask them something about when your shift ends. But you’re still transfixed, watching the armored man take a few deliberate steps towards the bar and straddle a stool, the visor trained like a crosshair upon you as his forearms settle on the bartop.

You’ve seen him here before. Heard his name whispered in weighted ripples ever since news spread through the Outer Rim that Bib Fortuna was dead. Since then, he’s come through maybe once every few dozen cycles, each time with a couple new chips in the paint of his armor. He comes here on business--or at least you assume that’s what it must be, since he always meets someone, speaks in hushed tones enshrouded by the dim corner booth in the back. He’ll toss a few credits on the bar when he leaves, but has never uttered a word to you, never ordered a drink.

Never even glanced your way, for all you know. Until right now. 

You swallow. Fucking hell, if there’s anything you’re used to, it’s being looked at. So why is this gaze kicking your pulse up into the base of your throat, making you feel exposed? A prickle of heat is already settling in your cheeks.

And then the visor cocks, and just barely tilts down the length of your figure. 

A tight breath snaps into your lungs, and your eyes dart to the bartop, across the room, back to the Mirialan still babbling dumbly at you, your face now hot. Kriff, what is wrong with you? Since when are you outright flustered by some stranger copping an eyeful? You try to breathe, ignoring how the hairs stand on your neck.

But you can still feel his attention like the heat of a sun warming your bare shoulder, and it makes something start to coil in your belly and glow there.

“I’ll have that ruge right up, sweetheart.” 

You’re pretty sure you interrupt the kid, but he doesn’t seem to mind, just calls out a stammered thank-you as you pivot away towards your new guest, your heart kicking against your sternum. Your feet almost feel weighted to the floor, and by the time you reach him, your pulse has an edge like a blade. 

“Something I can interest you in?” 

There’s a breathlessness to the warm air of your voice now, and you pray to the Maker that it doesn’t betray you. You lean against the bar, hoping that the solidity of the wood will somehow teach your nerves to follow its example. It doesn’t. 

He seems to study you for a moment, motionless. And then his shoulders shift, his elbows widen, and he leans in towards you.

“Information.” His voice is low and direct, barely above a graveled whisper, the single accent-laden word dragging through your belly and sparking like metal on stone.

Fuck.

Of course he’s after the one thing you’re not willing to sell.

Your heart stalls while your mind starts to race, eyes searching the dark visor. Of course you’d be a fool to deny him, and he knows it. That’s why he’s asking you. Why would you risk rousing a scene in your own bar, especially when the night is so mercifully calm? Easier to give him what he wants. Tap into your collection of liquor-loosened secrets, and knowledge of the local crowd.

The thing is, you’ve built a good rapport for your discretion. You think. Not to mention the number of cutting warnings Dakk has laid on you about the consequences for selling secrets in his bar. Is it really worth risking? Fett intimidates you, no doubt. But he’s also banking on the assumption that you won’t make this difficult for him. He has to be. And now unease and excitement are starting to play a game of catch between your ribs with that tiny, dangerous spark of boldness.

“Fresh out.” Your fingers drum the wood beneath them, trying to ground your reflexes through the rush of adrenaline that accompanies your words. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you stare into the blackness of the visor as you let the tiniest, playful smirk flit over your face.  “Perhaps something to drink?”

Slowly, achingly slowly, Boba Fett settles back on the bar stool. Unease lances you, splintering with the immediate question of whether you just made the right choice. You don’t want to think about how many he’d manage to kill before you could even blink, if he decided to do something extreme. His hand starts to shift back along his thigh, drawing a path towards the blaster at his hip. You swallow, panic pricking your neck.

Just as your muscles are primed to dive behind the bar, convinced you’re going to have to evade his quickdraw, his palm just takes a lazy rest on the hilt. The helmet levels, and then leans slowly to the side. 

“No.” 

Dizzied, you blink. It’s impossible to know what he’s thinking through that helmet, and he’s offered you all of two words. But was that… amusement, you heard? No. Anger? Fuck, now you’re really imagining things.

Still a little breathless, you straighten, sensing that you’re dismissed. The thought of flirting with a killer was a much-needed rush, but you need to take his indifference as a mercy after that little stunt and get on with your job while he’s giving you the chance. What little you apparently have left of a survival instinct is at least telling you that much.

You shrug. 

“Suit yourself.”

It feels dangerous to take your eyes off of him. But you force yourself to do so anyways, turning your back on the hunter and making your way to the dim doorway at the end of the bar, his attention still heating your spine. 

It’s a fucking relief to slip through the door to the storage room, ease the door shut behind you, and for the first time in what feels like moons, you let a long breath fill your lungs. The familiar scent of dust and wine-aged wood floods you, and something like disappointment tugs at your heart.

Maybe that stupid, adventure-craving side of your imagination took things too far, fueled by your boredom and the prospect of something exciting finally happening. You suppose you projected that naive hope onto Boba Fett, if nothing else just because he’s the first person to come through here in a long time that actually intrigues you. That confounds your prized, finely-calibrated radar for reading people without having to speak a word to them.

Fuck, he really wouldn’t give you much more than a word, would he? Guess he’s determined to keep scrambling your sensors. It shouldn’t deject you as much as it does. But...  come on, the least the son of a mudscuffer could do is flirt back if he was gonna fucking undress you with his eyes like that. 

Or maybe that was just your imagination, too. 

You sigh, scanning a shelf on the back wall for a ruge that will make a convincing enough dupe. A synthetic varietal, perhaps. No--too cheap. You’ve got something from a Naboo vineyard in here somewhere. Anyways, whatever, since when are you desperate for any man’s attention?

No, okay, it’s... you know that isn’t what this is really about. 

It would just be nice to feel important, is all. Like the secrets you’ve gathered might be worth something. Could someday give you a place in something bigger. Or at least like anything about you might be worth more than equivalent to a shot of shitty spotchka. 

Forget it. As if that will ever happen.

Your finger absently traces the dusty label of a bottle, and then a soft clink of metal behind you freezes your blood. 

You whip around to meet a wall of beskar, inches from your face.

You start to scream, but the sound catches in your throat when a big hand seizes you by the back of the neck and wrenches you around, bending you at the hips and slamming you chest-down against the stale wood of a storage crate. Cold metal presses your thighs and your heart smacks your ribs, your body completely trapped under Boba Fett’s mass in one motion. 

“I said I need information, little one, and you’re going to give it to me.” His voice scrapes over your body, sliding through the dim room like the shadow from a candle flame. You quail beneath him, brain racing with shock.

“I d-don’t—ugh!” The weight of his forearm comes down between your shoulder blades, pressing breathy little grunts from your lungs as you squirm. “I don’t sell out my customers.”

You freeze when the distinct click of a blaster registers right at your temple. 

“Never said I was buying.”

Panic zips down your spine, your chest heaving against the wooden crate as heat slams your core. Somewhere, your rational brain is scrambling to parse the threat, but something about the sheer filth and danger of it is setting your whole body on fire, making far more primal nerves come alive. Trying to shake the feeling, you squirm.

“At lea--ngh, least nothing’s changed there.”

Fucking hell, what are you doing? Besides sassing the known murderer with a blaster currently trained at your head, alone in a dark room. Yet somehow that very fact is making arousal bloom so wicked and fast that you can already start to feel your cunt throb against the fabric of his pants. 

“Willing to die to protect a few spineless slime crawlers who don’t even know your name?” Boba rocks his weight against you, powerful and lazy in the way he simply leans into his hips, grinds them up hard against your ass to keep you flattened over the edge of the crate. “Boss man lines his pockets while his good little pet works for scraps.” Air feels more scarce to your lungs by the second. “Interesting, how your loyalties lie.”

Indignance flares up your spine.

“I w-ouldn’t expect you to understand.” You try to put venom in the words, but it’s difficult between your breathlessness and the sheer eroticism of this position you’re in. “Small price to pay, f-for a good life.”

Through your annoyance, you can’t help feeling a twinge of enjoyment at his solidity, at how you can just discern the outline of him through his pants. An excited thrum of your pulse snaps to your core like a fuse.

Above you, Boba Fett chuckles.

“Is that what he gives you?” There’s a mockery to his tone that heats your blood, and you start to squirm in defiance before remembering the blaster at your temple. Fett simply crushes you harder, drawing your attention back to his crotch. “Seems to me like you’re the mouse in his attic.”

“I suppose you’re better than him? Than any of them?” you immediately bite, not wanting to acknowledge the truth behind his words. Instead, you grab that spark of bravery and crank the voltage until it drowns your doubt, throwing your caution to the stars faster than punching an airlock in hyperspace. “Do you even know m-my name, Mando?” A tiny giggle ripples your chest. “I know yours.”

“Might be the last one you know,” Boba growls, but you’re becoming fixated on his cock now, the way you could swear that it’s growing more distinct by the second.

Fear and pleasure wrack your brain, the combination intensifying so deliciously with the pressure of his groin against your ass that you can hardly think straight any more. In a moment of sick indulgence, you arch your back and shift just slightly, wanting to feel that pressure against something now pulsing and sensitive. 

The grip on your neck locks tight, and your breath stops. 

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, princess.” 

He kicks your legs apart and crushes his hardening bulge against your pussy. And, fuck, you moan. You don’t even mean to, but the thrill of helplessness has you so mindlessly turned on that you can’t stop the noise from squeezing out of your throat.

“Filthy little thing you are.” 

There’s a shift in his tone now. The vice hold disappears from your nape just before your pants are wrenched unceremoniously over your ass and down to mid thigh. You gasp at the feeling of air brushing your bare lips. He takes a moment, and you think he must be looking at you. Heat blossoms from your face all the way down to your chest, and then he’s against you again, a palm coming down between your shoulders as coarse fabric presses flush with your cunt. 

You can really feel the outline of his cock now, hard enough to rival his armor but warm and thick against you, and you whimper. It’s only a click that snaps your awareness back to the weapon pointed at your head. 

“Let’s try this again, little mouse.” Boba’s voice comes lower and airier through the vocoder now in a way that blazes right through you. “You give me what I want, and perhaps you’ll inspire my generosity.”

In emphasis of his intent, he rocks his erection against the cleft of your pussy. Your eyes snap wide, an almost painful stab of arousal making you immediately whine louder than you intend to. “Fuck--oh, please!”

“Careful.” His hand slides up your neck, angling your face so that he can see it twist in shame and pleasure. “Wouldn’t want anyone finding you like this.”

Your cheeks blaze. Shallow breaths stutter in your lungs as his thumb tugs the pillow of your lower lip. And then he releases you, his hand moving back somewhere you can’t sense. The pressure against your ass shifts for a moment, just before the wide, hot shaft of his bare cock caresses your cunt.

“Last night there was a man here, Mon Cala, middle aged.” Your body is on fire as he speaks, the skin to skin contact dousing your brain in blind want. You grit your teeth, screw your eyes shut, trying hard to focus on what he’s saying while your pussy twinges around nothing. “He talked to the owner here, then he met with someone. Tell me who.”

A reluctant whimper leaves your lips, and the noise might just be one of the most pathetic you’ve ever made as your tongue still stubbornly refuses to slip. But Fett’s words ring again through your head with a resentful pang: the mouse in his attic. Is that what you’ll die as?

At your temple, the blaster’s safety disengages.

“Fuck! Okay, okay.” Your breath comes heavily, brain uncertain and lust-addled, fumbling for the details. “He um. Met a--mmh, a woman, I d-didn’t catch her name. Please--” Your voice trails off in a soft whine, your hips shifting back, trying to find the means to swallow his cock where it teases your tender core, entice him with the diversion now that you’ve given him a crumb.

“You must be dumber than I took you for, sweetling.” His hips retreat slightly, evading you. The sheer display of restraint is infuriating, electrifying. It shallows your breath with need. He stills again, a rough, gloved hand running firmly up your spine, pushing your shirt up to bare more of your skin to his view. “Tell me the rest.”

Your teeth set with a final, feeble whine of hesitation. More instinct than anything. But then a cold ring of metal presses your temple, and fresh fear unbinds your tongue in a deluge.

“S-she had, ah--civilian clothes, but, um… an Imperial s-standard issue blaster.” Your eyes screw in concentration, details flickering like a glitchy holocom through your brain. “I heard them talk about, uh. A shipment. For… Fuck, uh. Th-three cycles from now.”

Boba hums, a sound that makes your eyes roll back as you feel yourself nearly dripping against him, your slick coating his cock where it just barely parts you.

“Smart girl.” His hand drags indulgently down your back, coming to rest on your hip and squeezing. “Where’s the shipment going, princess?”

Torture. This is some kind of galactic war crime, you’re sure of it. Pleasure surges from your teased cunt and his grip on your flesh, and his voice is almost soothing now, coaxing you further towards complacency. It’s all too much. Your head rests against the crate, defeat washing in a gentle tide over you. 

“Going... to Hosnian Prime.”

A soft, satisfied puff of noise comes from the modulator. The barrel retreats from your temple. 

“Now, there’s a good girl.”

Warmth crashes through your lower belly, a strange and exhilarating sensation that suddenly makes you want to... purr? No one has ever spoken to you like this, and it’s tickling a part of your brain that feels far, far too good. But then his cock glides thick and heavy along your folds, obliterating your thoughts, and all you can think about is having that inside of you. 

“Fuck,” you whine as he slowly aligns himself, teasing up and down the drenched, tender flesh of your pussy. He takes his time, massaging the blunt head over your clit and sending little shocks through your muscles, making you shiver and clench. “Please, please…” 

“Tame little creature when you want to be,” he grits, pressing against your entrance with an exhaled groan. “Keep being good for me.” 

Slowly, he starts to push. And, oh, fuck.

You’re not ready. 

You’re wetter and needier than you’ve ever been in your life, and you’re still not fucking ready to take a cock like this one when it crushes in and stretches you, setting an ache through your hips that tells you whatever happens, you’re bound to feel him for days. 

A cry sticks in your throat and you will yourself to breathe, to relax as he sinks in further, forcing your walls to flutter and part around him. It truly feels like being broken open, and your fingers have to dig into the wood beneath you when he pulls out an inch and then pushes again, sinking deeper this time as a choked noise pulls through the vocoder.

By the time he finally bottoms out, you swear you can feel him shifting your guts. Every muscle in your pelvis is straining to take him, the intensity mind-numbing already. You’re nearly choking on your own attempts to breathe while he pauses, sheathed like this for a few moments, seeming to concentrate on his own breathing at the same time. 

And then his voice comes again, a growl, pitched even lower and more ferocious than before through a clutched breath. 

“Fuck, you’re a tight little thing.” 

Stars.

This is different.

It’s so hard to think, you’ve never felt more full, but something in the back of your mind is unfurling, turning hot and primal with a roiling kind of need that burgeons and begs at the feeling of his cock rooted so fucking deep inside of you. You’ve had sex before, sure, but this…

You’re about to get fucked. 

“Please…” you mewl. Desperation pierces you when you feel his fingers flex strong and firm around your hip in response. You turn your head, trying to glimpse him--only to realize that the blaster is still right next to your face, its angle nonchalant, close enough to brush your lips. 

Your mind is so drenched in lust, the first urge that strikes you is to stick out your tongue and wet the metal, its sharp alloy piercing your senses and making your pussy seize with the shudder of danger.

In your periphery, you see the visor snap to attention, like he wasn’t fully looking at you before, lost in his own pleasure. But now he is. And he gives the weapon an experimental twist, allowing for your lips to wrap, delicate and wet, just around the tip of the barrel.

“Fearless little mouse.” There’s something dark and charged in his voice. “You look good like that.”

A slight wiggle to open your jaw, and the blaster shoves past your lips, resting thick and cold on your tongue, lighting your spine with a new thrill. Your voice swells on a muffled moan around it, such a soft and lovely sound to accompany a thing that’s orchestrated countless deaths. 

“There we are. Nice and quiet now.” 

Finally, finally, he starts to thrust, slow and measured, forcing your body to yield around the width of him. Something burns hot in your belly with each steady stroke, wiping your brain of everything but his presence.

The rough material of a glove smothers one of your asscheeks, grips and pulls at the pillowy flesh, spreading you open as his thrusts take up a steady, powerful rhythm. Boba Fett lets out a long groan, and you can only imagine the view he has right now. It sears you alive, the knowledge that he likes looking at you like this, pitching and whimpering with his rhythm, the sight of your pussy stretched, helpless around his cock and your mouth wetting his blaster. 

Your spit slicks the barrel more with every thrust, and you can feel the mechanics shifting dangerously between your lips. But his trigger finger is steadier than death, and his control gives you the nerve to let your tongue lick out along the barrel, bathe in the electric wash of fear that sets all of your nerves into overdrive.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he snarls as his pace starts to kick up wilder. 

Intense pleasure cracks through you now, visceral in a way you’ve never felt, and it’s all you can do to keep relatively quiet. The barrel on your tongue is a sharp enough reminder, yet it fuels your arousal to burn hotter and wetter all the same. The more you concentrate on the powerful bliss coiling in your core and rippling outwards, the more you can feel yourself starting to tighten around him, your body yearning vaguely towards a release it can’t seem to center on.

You hear him groan as you squeeze him, his grip on your flesh flexing and shifting. A few more strong thrusts, and then his cock pulls all the way out of you with a woeful pang, the blaster vacating your mouth in the same motion to leave you empty, dizzied and clenching. But before you can unscramble your brain, the blaster slots back into its holster and he’s moving you. With an effortless kind of control, he flips you over, shifting you until the solid wood of the crate supports your ass.

He hikes both of your legs onto one shoulder and in one swift, easy motion, whisks your pants over your shoes and off of your ankles, tossing them carelessly into the darkness of the room before hooking your legs around his armored waist.

“Going to watch you cum, princess. Nice and pretty.”

Your mouth opens on a gasp at his words, and a gloved thumb immediately presses your tongue, the taste of leather and plasma residue grounding your senses enough to register that he’s lining his cock back up at the heat of your entrance. You whine around his thick digit, and he growls somewhere low in his chest as he pushes the thick head back in, this new angle making you see stars all over again. 

He doesn’t bother letting you adjust this time, just uses your wetness to his advantage to start railing through your tightness, burning and stretching you as that warm swell starts to crest again. It’s such a deep, full feeling, spreading a delicious ache from the spot where he hits you deep in your tummy. 

Your brows draw together, your whines pitching higher as you search the visor. It’s a wordless plea, your vision swallowed by the power of him fucking you deep, your body now screaming to cum but needing something you can’t quite pinpoint.

The hunter’s thumb slips out of your mouth, his hand forging an eager path down your body. He palms your tit over your shirt, before grabbing the low collar and yanking it down, baring your nipples to his view one after the other. His whole hand spans your torso as he hooks the lower hem with his thumb, bunching the material until both your belly and tits are bare, your shirt like a handle at your diaphragm that he uses to pound you even harder, watching your body jolt, overpowered by his thrusts.

Airy little wails brush through your lips, the pleasure all too intense and not enough at the same time. You can’t take it anymore, you need something on your clit, and your fingers twitch to seek out that precious target. But he’s already moving, his hips slowing to a lazier pace while his free hand finds some destination at his belt, and what he produces freezes you in your tracks.

“Steady now,” he breathes as he slips a long blade out of his belt and spins it by the hilt, his fingers almost too quick, too tactful for such a brute. 

Instinctual panic grips you at the sight of the weapon, making your legs try to close. But he’s pushed too deep in you, his frame has you pinned open, and there’s nothing you can do against the sheer breadth of his body. Powerless, you simply whimper.

“Wh… what are y--”

“Hush, princess.” 

A flick of his thumb and the vibroblade springs to life, its hum filling the quiet air. He starts to bring the blunt hilt of it down where your body yields to his. Alarm pierces you one final time, but then he touches the pommel, just barely, against the tender swell of your clit.

You want to fucking scream. As if in anticipation of this, he claps his hand over your mouth just in time for you to bite down on his glove while your eyes roll back in a powerful wave of ecstasy. The vibrations surge through the sensitive nerves, lighting your whole body up in a way you’ve never felt before. It’s pure bliss, and then a low, long growl slips through the helmet’s modulator at the feeling of your walls pulsing tight, strangling his cock. 

His thrusts deepen again, powerful and steady, stroking some devastating spot deep inside you. Your muffled wails get lost in the breath-dampened fabric of his glove while the intense pleasure crests from your clit, higher, higher, lasering in on that intangible cusp and barreling you straight towards it.

You suspend at the peak, all senses failing, and then your orgasm takes you in a riptide, surging through your nerves like liquid fire. The magnitude of it rends you, stronger than you’ve ever felt, dragging you under and forcing you to ride it out while it just pulls and pulls. By the time you regain your sight you’re shaking, waves of bliss still pulsing and crashing through your body in time to the strong rhythm of his hips, the glowing epicenter that unwavering vibration at your clit. 

Sobs wrack your chest, pour out high and lose themselves somewhere in the meat of his hand, and you think you try to catch a few breaths, but you can’t even come down. Boba’s voice cuts through the rush in your ears.

“Good. Good girl.” 

He holds the buzzing hilt of the blade impossibly steady against your clit and that glow is still so bright, twitching, starting to spill through your nerves again and holy shit you think you just might--

“Again.”

Your second orgasm shreds you like a plasma cannon.

You’re blind, numb to everything but the intense pleasure, nerves now as raw and sharp as the edge of the blade itself. His hand is tight over your face and you feel your cunt convulsing and gushing around his cock, slick cum spilling to wet your asscheeks, and it must be your own because his pace hasn’t let up. 

A clatter resounds on the edge of your consciousness and when your eyes come into focus, Boba’s hand is locking into your waist, the blade discarded somewhere in the room. His hips piston hard with a few vulgar slaps of flesh, the head of his cock crushing against your deepest parts before he wrenches out of you and spills over your bare stomach with a strangled roar, gripping himself at the base and thrusting against you as warm, thick ropes paint your skin.

His release is long. Grunts distort into rough static through the vocoder as he rides out the last pulses, until finally he braces himself on the crate beside your head, hunched over you like a beast, his chest plate rolling with heavy breaths. You can only blink at him through hazed, damp eyes, your body feeling weak and utterly fucked dumb. The hand over your mouth slowly unlocks its grip, dragging downwards and leaving you to take shallow gulps of air while he gives your tit a deliberate squeeze. 

And then he drags himself off of you, straightening with an almost-concealed groan as he adjusts himself and leaves you to blink at the dark ceiling, still letting oxygen find your brain. 

When you shakily manage to sit up, you just glimpse him slipping the discarded vibroblade back into his belt and turning towards the door. Even through your dizziness, you scoff. Figures. Bastard is just going to fuck your brains out and then leave you like this.

“You know,” you sigh, watching him and lazily trailing your fingers in a circle on your tummy, enjoying the lingering buzz of your skin and gathering a bit of his spend where it coats you, still warm. “I’d say that tip-off was at least worth a handful of credits in my jar on your way out.”

He turns and looks at you then, the helmet cocking in consideration for a moment. As soon as his attention is on you, your fingers move from his mess on your belly to your mouth, where you slowly suckle him off of your fingers, never once taking your eyes off the visor, a tiny ripple of playfulness wiggling your shoulders and curling your lips.

His shoulders square to you, and that hunter’s stance still makes your chest seize, sends a pulse to your exhausted pussy.

Metal clinks softly as he walks towards you, stepping between your knees until you’re forced to drop your hand from your mouth and look up at him, heart fluttering again. He brushes the knuckle of his forefinger under your chin.

“Fresh out.”

His back turns as you stare, speechless. And then the door swings on its hinges, and Boba Fett is gone.

[studiobeebo]

~♡ Winter Warmth ♡~

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 2.1K

Genre: warm and soft like mash potato. 

A/N: has this trope of sharing winter clothes been done a million times? yes. will that stop me? no.

as per usual, reblogs are the best way to get my works around since tags tend to be unreliable so they’re greatly appreciated! enjoy!

“You didn’t bring a scarf. Or a hat. Or anything.”

Your current ‘mission’ partner’s characteristically irritated tone broke you out of your current daze as you shifted your eyes towards him as the two of you walked side by side, close enough that it was clear the two of you were at least friends, but not so close that things were...weird.

“Oh, no..” You hummed, a puff of steam escaping with your words and just as soon evaporating into the cold winter air. “To be honest I didn’t think it would be this cold. Oh- but it’s not that bad, no worries.”

He looked at you for a second before shrugging and facing forward once again, the previous silence between the two of you settling back in as your eyes drifted back to your right where rows and rows of shop windows twinkled with Christmas lights and other inviting decorations. 

See, the so called ‘mission’ the two of you had been sent on wasn’t really a mission at all, it was more like an errand to satisfy everyone back at school’s ‘urgent’ need for a variety of coffees, hot chocolate’s, and tea lattes, which didn’t sound like much, however your oh so gracious sensei insisted you go to this very specific cafe that was about a half an hour walk away instead of the one that was barely a ten minute walk away. Fushiguro seemed particularly annoyed with that, but then again, when wasn’t he annoyed by one thing or another.

The only thing was that you assumed he was bothered because Gojō had made yet another needlessly difficult request of him, however while he was annoyed with Gojō , that wasn’t exactly the reason why. The reason he was particularly peeved was because his teacher said the two of you just haaad to go together. “It’s safer that way.” , he said “Treat it like a mission!”, he said.

Bullshit. 

Gojō was testing him on something even he didn’t want to think about, let alone admit to. Fushiguro told him one thing, ONE THING about you, just an off handed comment on how much you had improved using your cursed technique in such a short amount of time, and that’s all it took for Gojō to give him that fucking look. At least, Fushiguro thought it was only one thing, but the more Gojō started making little comments about the two of them, about how he thinks they’d be sooo cute together, he realized that maybe he had been unconsciously talking about you more than he thought. That was true too, but he wasn’t one for much talk and the little that he did say wasn’t enough to tip Gojō or anyone else off about his apparent interest in you. As it turns out, the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’ is true, and that’s especially so for someone as observant as Gojō is.

He saw all the little things that most people probably didn’t have a second thought about, but he had known Megumi for a long time now so to him, his actions were clear as day. The little touches on your shoulder to gently move you out of the way, the way he would tend to gravitate towards you whenever all of you first years were on missions together, how distracted he’d be if you had a bit of a hard time fighting off a curse. Gojō could go on and on about the tiny ways Megumi treated you better, with more care, than anyone else, but he chose not to pester him too aggressively. He knew if he did that, Megumi would shut him down just as aggressively and dig deeper into the denial about his feelings for you. So instead, Gojō pushed him in little ways, like teaming you two together for training practices and in this case, sending you out together to get drinks.

Megumi knew that of course, that Gojō was messing with him, but man was it hard to say no when your face lit up and you exclaimed that you could actually go for a hot chocolate. So now here you were, walking side by side in silence that was currently doing nothing but make him overthink. Should he say something? Would that be weird? Or were you off put by the fact that he wasn’t saying anything? All the while he had that usual grumpy look on his face that was really just one of concentration, but you didn’t take it to heart regardless. You had known him long enough now to know that even when he did look upset, he kind of just had a resting grumpy face and it didn’t necessarily mean anything. Still, you would admit that you were feeling a bit awkward.

You liked Fushiguro, maybe a tad bit more than what you admitted to your other friends, but while the two of you were friendly and worked just fine together, you had never really spent time alone with one another outside of school, and as you walked through the slightly crowded sidewalks you realized you didn’t really know how he felt about you. Sure you were associates and classmates, but did he see you in that way? Did he only tolerate you? Or maybe he was just indifferent, not thinking of you as much more or much less than someone he worked along side. Even though you didn’t have any answers to said questions, you couldn’t say you were nervous to be out with him. In fact it was kind of nice, even if you weren’t talking much, and you were okay with settling and just internally gushing about it to yourself. So you kept to yourself with a slight smile on your face, stopping for a second here or there when something in one of the shop windows caught your eye or to press your cold hands to your mouth and blow warm air onto them.

You had said you were fine, but the temperature seemed to keep dropping, and when you felt a small damp prickle of iciness on your nose you realized why. That one snowflake slowly turned to many as snow began to fall steadily from the sky, catching on your hair and jacket but melting as soon as it came in contact with your cheeks. 

“Pfft, no wonder it’s gotten so cold. I seriously thought we weren’t going to get any snow until later on in the season, right?” You asked, turning to him with a laugh as you rubbed your arms as if that would do much to help through your coat. 

“Guess not.”, he said with another shrug. “Doesn’t look like it’ll stick though, we should be fine.”

He peered out of the corner of his eye at you, watching as you shoved your hands into your pockets and gave him a nod before looking up as you walked to watch the snow fall in a childlike awe. Something ticked in him, another one of those little irritating itches that he would get whenever you would do something like that. Something so simple, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. That, and the irrational part of him that was currently screaming at him to do something stupid, an internal voice that was getting louder and louder with every fall of a snowflake and shiver of your shoulders until finally he just had to give in.

He let out an annoyed huff, not at you but at the fact that he felt so stupid and absurdly flustered as he unwrapped his scarf and took his gloves off, temporarily shoving them into one pocket as he stopped to lean over and wrap his scarf snuggly around your neck instead. You jumped a little in surprise as you tore your eyes from the sky and gave him a quizzical look, but before you could say anything a pair of gloves that were a little too big for you were shoved into your hands as well. 

“Oh, thank you but I’m really-“

“It’s fine.” He cut you off, but not in a mean way. You noticed the hint of pink on his cheeks, but surely that was due to the cold, right? He sighed again in an attempt to make himself feel a little less tense as he continued on in a more relaxed tone. “Seriously, I was getting too warm anyways.”

Now you really couldn’t help but smile as you gave him a small nod before slipping on both gloves. They were too big just like you thought, but warm, and the fuzziness bristling in your stomach seemed to help warm you up as well. You absent mindedly tugged his scarf a little closer around you as the the two of you began to walk again, and your own cheeks began to heat up a bit as you inhaled his scent. Though you couldn’t really pinpoint what it was, it was like a little not-so-gentle reminder that he really did just give you his scarf and gloves to wear. You tried not to let it get to you, he was just being nice and he said he was too warm anyways, but you still had to bite your inner cheek to keep yourself from smiling too wildly and risk him thinking you’re a total creep. 

“Thanks Megumi, I appreciate it.” 

Oh god no.

He thought he had steeled himself but that caused him to stop in his tracks, only for a moment or two, before his body went into self preservation mode and moved on its own, but the way his heart skipped a beat in response to something as dumb as you calling him by his first name for the first time was everything but calm and collected. Still, as much as he tried to keep even an ounce of what he was really feeling from showing on his features, it only took that little halt in his step for you to realize what you just said.

“Oh, shit- I’m sorry. That’s probably kind of weird for me to call you.”

“It’s fine.” He repeated the same words he had said only a few minutes ago, only this time he didn’t sound nearly as confident. Whatever was going on in his chest was not, in fact, fine, but what was he supposed to say? ‘You treating me like I’m a close friend seriously fucks with my doubts of having a thing for you’? For heaven’s sake he could take out a literal murderous demon in the blink of an eye but god forbid he try to keep his normally cool composure in front of who he now had to admit was his crush.

“If it really isn’t fine you don’t have to act like it is.” You laughed out awkwardly, still having trouble trying to read his features. 

He hated seeing that bit of doubt and worry in your eyes, enough so that he shoved what he was feeling down even if it was just long enough for him to give some reassurance that you referring to him so casually was actually more than just ‘fine’.

“I’m not ‘acting’. If it really bothered me I would say something about it. Trust me, I’ve gotten good at telling people off...” He grumbled, his mood slightly souring at the mere thought of what Gojō would do if he could see him now, with color tinting his cheeks and his brain scrambling for the right words to say which, judging by the short laugh you gave that was simply music to his ears, he had successfully done.

“True, true. Guess I’ll just have to stay on your good side then, yeah? Dunno if I could take it if you were actually mad at me.”

He scoffed and muttered in response as he trudged ahead of you.

“As if you would ever be on my bad side…”

“Hm?”

“I said ‘can we hurry up before it gets worse outside’. If we take much longer Gojō is going to start blowing up my phone.” 

You laughed and then smiled in a way that you could only imagine looked incredibly goofy as you stared at his back while he continued walking ahead of you, maybe just a tiny bit giddy that he was ok with you being a little more personal and less formal with him. Surely that meant the two of you were friends, right? Or maybe he could think of you as something more some day…

“Are you coming with?”

“Yeah, yeah!” You exclaimed, shaking your head and leaving those thoughts for another time in order to allow yourself to enjoy this moment as it was, warmed in the face of the winter chill by a cozy set of winter clothes and a fuzzy feeling in your heart.

[crispyjenkins]

fic with ahsoka as Obi-Wans Padawan? Maybe some angsty jangobi? (Used to be together but broke up and now they pine from afar™️)

(i’m devastated that i don’t get to write ahsoka much, especially as obi’s padawan, so that an anon would come into my inbox.... and request jangobi on top of it..... seriously, though, thank you! can’t say i wasn’t inspired by @autumnchild22’s Kenobi Tano AU, but this doesn’t share almost anything with their take of events (ノ*´◡`) i’m flattered y’all thought i could do something of theirs justice lmao

i have written entirely too much backstory for this one, i think my brainstorming ended up longer than the actual fic so like. rip. 

support artists and writers by reblogging, message me for more info if this confuses you!)

  It surprises everyone except Obi-Wan that not only does Jango join the clones on the front lines, but he does so as the ARC troopers’ medic. That the son of the Mand’alor murdered by the Jedi would allow his kid to be apprenticed by a lifetime Council member is already hard enough for the galaxy at large to swallow; believing that the man who had at once been the most feared bounty hunter in the Outer Rim wouldn’t even ask for a command position? Impossible.

  Obi-Wan knows better. Just as Obi-Wan had picked up Soresu because he could not protect his master on Naboo, Jango had learned to put people back together because he could not save his buir on Korda 6. 

  Besides, Obi-Wan thinks Mace is a wonderful match for little Boba, even though he’s joining the Jedi older than even Anakin had been. Knowing Mace was among the Jedi to liberate the spice freighter Jango had been sold to, and that he had continued to check in on Jango for years after he got his armor back, Obi-Wan actually finds it rather silly that others on the Council had thought Jango would trust Boba to anyone else. 

  Which does leave Obi-Wan in quite the predicament, when less than a year after Anakin's knighting, Mace sends him a new padawan in the middle of a campaign. 

  Ahsoka smiles with all canines, and calls Anakin Skyguy, and has to be tricked into wearing more armor because, according to Cody, she is "not to take the General's lack of self-preservation as the status quo, nor as the basis for field safety." Which, rude, Obi-Wan wears plenty of armor when the situation calls for it; he simply doesn't find many situations where plasteel has kept his men or the Jedi from dying horribly.

  Letting Ahsoka gallivant around a battlefield in a tube-top without even a cloak, however, is out of the question, and Obi-Wan thinks Waxer does a brilliant job in sizing down the armor to fit their collective padawan over the next few months. Force, had Anakin really been younger than she when he first started taking him on missions?

  "Master?"

  Obi-Wan blinks, and smiles down at Ahsoka standing next to him, his apprentice looking quite dashing in the orange paint of the 212th. "Sorry, my dear, what were you saying?"

  She shrugs, eyeing him suspiciously. "'Was just asking if we would be working with the ARC troopers on Kiros; Captain Fordo said he would show me how to use a blaster rifle next time they were on the Negotiator."

  The Kaminoans intended for a few ARC troopers to be sent with each battalion, but it had quickly become clear that Jango had not trained them that way. Instead, he had raised and created a strike team so efficient, it would have been a waste to separate them; Obi-Wan knows Jango had hand-picked them from cadets, had searched for a spark in them that the Kaminoans hadn't already snuffed out completely. Jango had been like that once, too.

  "I would be surprised if we didn't," Obi-Wan decides on, turning back to observe the 212th loading into the Negotiator, and he would be, because the ARCs are often deployed with Obi-Wan’s men, have been since the Battle of Kamino. "But I have not heard anything from Master Shaak Ti, nor Captain Fordo as of yet."

  Ahsoka scrunches up her face into a pout, an amusing show of her age that she usually does not allow. "We'll probably get halfway through the mission and they'll just show up."

  Obi-Wan chuckles. “Hm, yes, probably,” he agrees, starting to make his way down to the hangar to join his men with Ahsoka trotting along behind, “but perhaps I can convince Captain Fordo not to surprise us too badly this time.”

-

  When the ARC troopers finally storm the Kadavo Processing Facility with Anakin and the Jedi on their heels, the warden Agruss is already dead.

  The sudden swell of Jedi presence is nearly blinding after a month of helplessness, but Obi-Wan can't tap out, not yet. Rex, satisfied and vindictive and relieved, sways dangerously and automatically reaches out to Obi-Wan to steady himself. 

  That Rex trusts him enough to not even think about rank before asking for help warms Obi-Wan in ways he doesn't yet have the words for — he wraps Rex's arm around his shoulders and takes half his weight happily.

  "Thank you," Obi-Wan finds himself murmuring as he helps Rex towards the doors, and only smiles at the captain's bemused expression. 

  "Whatever for, General?" he asks, even as he looks back over their shoulders across the room, to Agruss impaled to his chair with the electrostaff still sparking. Then he returns Obi-Wan’s smile, shaking his head. "That's not very Jedi-like of you, sir."

  "I'm afraid I haven't felt much a Jedi since Kiros, my dear." Which is perhaps too honest to allow himself before he's had a proper meal and a full night's rest, but if there is anyone who will understand, it is the man that lived it with him. "We could wait up here for Anakin to find us, but it will likely be a while before they can spare him to start looking; do you think you can keep your feet long enough for us to reach the ground floor?"

  Rex snorts and gives a vague wave of his free hand towards the elevators. "Well, I'm certainly not going to wait up here like some damsel, sir, and General Skywalker would kill me if I let you wander around on your own."

  "Well!" Obi-Wan laughs, for the first time in weeks, and hitches Rex up to get a better grip on his waist. "In that case, we really should not keep him waiting."

  They somehow time it perfectly for what the 187th and the 501st to have just finished rounding up the slavers in the courtyard when he and Rex hobble out of a side door of the warden's tower. Lieutenant Law oversees the Togrutas' move to Mace’s flagship Solace, and Obi-Wan easily picks him and Boba out from the crowd, standing at the base of the loading ramp and speaking with the Kiros colony's governor. Anakin is nowhere to be seen, but Obi-Wan doesn't get the chance to keep looking before Kix spots them from his place by the medical frigate; a shout passes over the nearby clones like a wave, until Kix and an ARC trooper break away to (gently) manhandle both him and Rex to the frigate. 

  The 187th's medic, Oro, is already on board seeing to the Togrutas too injured to wait for triage on the Solace, snapping a distracted salute that Obi-Wan quickly waves off as he helps heft Rex onto a hoverbed. He fully intends to duck back out and check in with Mace, though things seem well in hand without him, but the ARC with Kix takes off his helmet and glares, until Obi-Wan meekly shuffles to the next hoverbed over.

  He could never refuse Jango, after all. 

  "You repainted your armor," he says conversationally, as Jango pulls a scanner from the bandoleer around his chest and has Obi-Wan roll up his right sleeve. 

  "'Lost the last set to a sarlacc before our deployment to Kiros," Jango snorts, Concord Dawn accent stronger than any of his clones. "Though it looks like your mission had its fair share of excitement." Running the scanner over the electrical burns on Obi-Wan’s arm, Jango raises an eyebrow at the dried blood on the shoulder of his tunics; Obi-Wan honestly doesn't remember if it's his or not.

  And he can only smile at Jango, because even with a decade and a war between them, the corner of Jango's mouth still twitches when he's stressed. "Well, it certainly wasn't boring, my dear," Obi-Wan says, opening the neck of his tunic enough for Jango to stick him with a hypospray that hopefully won't make him too high. "And I can't say I'm looking forward to what is surely going to be a long dip in the bacta tank."

  He gets a laugh for that, and can't think of the last time they had done more than make eye contact from opposite sides of a ship. Perhaps it had been Kamino, when Taun We had first sent for the Jedi to meet the army created for them. 

  Obi-Wan had rather thought Jango dead until then, when he had disappeared from the galaxy abruptly as if he had never lived in it at all. For a time, Obi-Wan believed he had just gotten cold feet, that finally meeting Anakin made it all a little too personal too quickly, but then even Mace could not get a hold of him and no one had seen a Mandalorian bounty hunter in months.

  Their... conversation, Jango's stilted explanations of his absence and of how little he actually knew about the purpose for the clones he helped create, left far too much unsaid, but then Obi-Wan had been sent to Geonosis and, well. It's been nearly two years now, and Obi-Wan isn't sure if he's even seen Jango without his helmet since then. 

  His eyes flick over Obi-Wan’s face, the left side of his lips twitching as if knowing exactly what Obi-Wan is thinking — and he might not put it past him. 

  "Where are Anakin and Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan hears himself ask, when the silence grows heavy with those unsaid words. And he really would like to check in with his padawan, he can't imagine her last month has been a picnic either.

  Jango sticks him with another stim before answering, "Mace sent Skywalker to make sure no slave is missed, and no slaver isn't arrested. As for your new foundling..." That little smile comes back, as Jango nods out the back of the frigate to where someone is cutting a line through the clones guarding their new prisoners. 

  "Oh dear," Obi-Wan mumbles, barely having time to brace himself before Ahsoka is launching herself at him, and all he can think is how relieved he is to see her out of her slave disguise. Jango steps cleanly out of the way to let Ahsoka smother herself in Obi-Wan’s chest, though it doesn’t stop him from starting to prep bacta patches to tide him over until they can get to the Negotiator’s medbay.

  “Hello, little one,” Obi-Wan murmurs, carefully loosening the tight net of his shields for the first time since Zygerria and letting Ahsoka’s presence flood his mind. 

  “It’s good to see you, Master ‘Nobi,” she says into his tunics, and her voice does not waver at all.

  He manages a chuckle, though it does not hold nearly as well as Ahsoka’s, as he feels himself finally relax. Anakin, of course, senses the both of them immediately and prods at their minds, but neither Obi-Wan nor his padawan acknowledge him. “I take it the Queen is dead?”

  Ahsoka sighs and pulls back enough to nod. “Count Dooku was there, Skyguy barely got us all out.”

  “That was a week ago,” Jango adds, not looking up from the datapad he’s logging Obi-Wan’s injuries into. “Even with the Queen giving us the location of the Processing Facility, we had to wait for the 187th to catch up.”

  Running his palm from the top of her head down her hind lek, Ahsoka melts back against him with a Togruta churr he rarely has the pleasure of hearing from her. “Hm, and I imagine Boba was thrilled to work with the ARC troopers.”

  Jango snorts, because they both know Boba is thirteen and his rebellious stage where he wants nothing to do with his father for fear of losing his independence. “Originally, the 104th was the closest battalion, but were held up in their own campaign. ‘Honestly didn’t think we could keep Skywalker from rushing in anyways.”

  And Obi-Wan has to wince at that, because no matter what he does, he can’t seem to find a way to teach Anakin about attachment in words he understands; truthfully, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have had him knighted until he had at least attempted to master that part of his mind, but, well, the War had different opinions.

  “I’m actually just surprised he didn’t try to fight Dooku,” Ahsoka admits, finally releasing Obi-Wan only to hop up on the hoverbed next to him. Jango immediately pulls Obi-Wan’s bare arm back to himself to start slapping the bacta patches over the worst of his burns. “Master Windu had a talk with him, though, I think it was good for him.”

  “I’d like to see that!” Jango barks, only half sarcastically: he knows better than most, the sorts of things Mace Windu can talk someone out of, and if it worked for one ex-slave, why shouldn’t it work on another?

  Ah, perhaps that shared history should not have slipped Obi-Wan’s mind, not here with thousands of freed slaves needing aid for injuries Jango is intimately familiar with.

  “And are you alright?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it, as Jango is cutting his sleeve further back. His brow ticks back up, clearly bewildered by what Obi-Wan could be referring to, but it’s Ahsoka that leans around Obi-Wan to sniff triumphantly up at Jango.

  “I told you he still likes you,” she says, and Jango’s hand freezes on Obi-Wan’s wrist.

  Obi-Wan sighs. “Ahsoka.”

  But instead of denying that he might have actually had such a conversation with Obi-Wan’s padawan, Jango coughs on a laugh. “So you did, edee. To be fair, I did not think that was the issue.”

  Ahsoka rolls her eyes, leaning back into Obi-Wan’s side as he automatically raises his arm to accommodate her. “He thinks he lost his chance, Master ‘Nobi,” she tells him. “Even Cody thinks he’s full of banthashit.”

  Where Obi-Wan feels a little shell-shocked by the turn in conversation, Jango simply keeps that tiny smile — even if it looks bittersweet and self-deprecating now. “Your foundling has spent the last week talking me in circles about this, I almost think she’s as stubborn as you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” Obi-Wan returns, sarcasm an automatic, subconscious response. 

  “I wouldn’t need to talk you in circles if you two just talked to each other.”

  Shaking his head in bemusement, Obi-Wan gently fixes Ahsoka’s slika beads to lay properly around her montrals. “I’m afraid there’s quite a lot of history there, little one; most of which I’m sure Jango did not actually share with you.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “No, he refuses to tell me anything except that you met on a mission. And that he saved your ass from Jabba the Hutt.”

  Obi-Wan snaps his eyes to Jango, who looks absolutely anywhere but at him. “Is that how you remember it going, my dear?”

  “Could we do this later?”

  “Because if I recall correctly, and I do, this is not the first time you’ve lost your armor to a sarlacc.”

  Jango looks to the ceiling for patience. 

-

Mando'a: buir — “parent”, gender neutral  Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. edee — “teeth”, “jaws”, used here as an affectionate name for Ahsoka. because she teeth.

[leejungchans]

— reunited.

🆕 ask juliet anything!! | juliet’s masterlist

word count: 1.3k

warning(s): none!!

note: words in bold are spoken in english!!

set in early 2017

summary: in which juliet bumps into someone very, very familiar and dear to her heart.

Juliet nods her head along to the music playing from her earphones as she peruses the snack aisle in the supermarket. Her classes ended a bit earlier today, giving her more time before she has to be at the company for training. What better way to spend that time than getting snacks to share with the others during their breaks?

Definitely chocolate, she thinks as she grabs a bar from one of the shelves, pausing for a few seconds before grabbing two more. Who am I kidding? We’ll inhale it within thirty seconds if I get just one. What if I also got chips? Or is that too much if we’re going to get tteokbokki after training?

Sighing, Juliet looks wistfully at the assortment of snacks before lowering her head and speed-walking through the aisle. If I can’t see it, I won’t be tempted.

Stopping by the dairy section, she reaches for a bottle of banana milk after much deliberation between it and the strawberry milk. This specific brand of flavoured milk was the first thing she had after landing in South Korea, and since then she’d always try to have either before practice or evaluations as a good luck charm whenever possible.

Juliet is about to head to the cashier when she spies a boy around her age standing only a few feet away from her looking at the selection of bottled tea. Her heart skips a beat when she catches the side profile of the boy. It can’t be him... can it? But he looks so awfully similar to...

Before she can be sure, the boy makes his choice and disappears behind the aisle she was just in. Juliet finds herself following after him. She wanted—no, needed—to confirm she hadn’t been seeing things, that he is indeed who she thinks he is. It’s been so long since she’s seen him, she can’t just leave without being sure.

Doing her best to act natural, she walks back to the snack aisle and grabs a bag of spicy chips, pretending to read the label when she’s really trying to get a better look at the boy out of the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, the boy isn’t near enough for her to be sure, and before Juliet can inch closer to him, he leaves the aisle.

Damn it, I knew I should’ve put on my glasses.

Hastily shoving the bag of chips back into its original place, Juliet hurries to catch up with him, carefully peeking behind the shelves to see which section he went into.

Wait... do I look suspicious right now? What if someone’s watching me through the CCTV and thinks I’m trying to steal something? The thought causes her to shudder, hoping she’ll get her answer as quickly as possible so she won’t have to act like this anymore.

Passing through the aisles, Juliet finally finds the boy looking at the instant ramen before casually slipping in and grabbing a random one from the shelf, once again watching him using her peripheral vision. Is this weird? This is so weird. Man, if he’s not who I think he is, I would’ve done all this for nothing... Fuck! He’s looking this way! Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him... 1790mg of Sodium... interesting... what riveting information...

So deep in thought, Juliet doesn’t realises that he’s approaching her until she feels him trying to squeeze past her in the narrow corridor in an effort to leave. Jumping in surprise from the sudden contact, the bowl of ramen slips from Juliet’s hold and falls to the ground with a clatter.

“Sorry!” they both squeak in unison, the boy crouching down to pick up the ramen before she can do so herself. When he looks up to hand it back to her, they freeze upon getting a good look at the other’s face, eyes widening with realisation.

“Felix?”

“Juliet?”

Huge smiles slowly spread across their faces after getting over the initial shock before they pull each other in a hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” Juliet squeals. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here now!” Felix explains once they separate, laughing when her eyes widen comically at his revelation.

“Shut the front door. Really?”

“Yeah! I auditioned for JYP a while ago and got accepted, and they told me to move here immediately. I wanted to contact you, but I think you changed your phone number...”

“Oh, I did,” Juliet says sheepishly. “But I’m glad we ran into each other here! Well, not really ran into... I was kinda following you around the store like a creep because I was trying to make sure if you were really... you.”

Felix giggles. “Were you? I didn’t notice. I just thought you were another student trying to buy snacks after school.”

“I mean... that part’s true,” Juliet says with a grin as they walk back to the cashier to pay. “But anyways, it’s so great that you’re with JYP now! Are you doing okay with settling in and stuff?”

He nods slowly. “I think so, I’m still adjusting to the culture shock and practising my Korean, but the boys there are helping me a lot! One of them is also from Sydney, can you believe it?”

“You’ll have to introduce us sometime then,” she says as she hands the cashier some money while he scans her items. “Plus, you found me now! So if you need anything or just someone to talk to, you can reach me! You have a Korean number now, right?”

He nods again, rummaging for his wallet and phone in his bag before handing the latter to Juliet so she can enter her number in while he pays. The two leave the supermarket with a quick “thank you!” to the cashier as she returns his phone.

“‘Aussie sister’?” Felix laughs, reading the contact name she saved for herself.

“Yeah! You can change it if you want, or if you already met another Aussie sister at JYP,” she pouts. “In that case, I can be ‘Aussie sister #2’ or ‘Julie’ or whatever.”

“Nah, I don’t know any other Aussies here other than you and the boy I mentioned earlier. His name’s Chan, by the way! Where are you going now? To SM?”

Juliet smiles melancholically. “I’m not with SM anymore, Lix,” she says softly, watching his eyebrows crease with worry. “I’m with another company now called KQ. It’s much smaller compared to SM, but I’m happy there and they treat me well, so don’t worry.”

“Well, if you’re happy, then it’s all that matters!” Felix says brightly. “I have to go back to JYP too, but we’ll meet up more now that I’m here, right?” he adds the last part hopefully.

“Definitely! When we have time, I’ll take you to all my favourite food places in this area,” Juliet promises.

Felix beams. “I can’t wait! Take care, okay? And good luck with training.”

“You too. Again, it’s really, really nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise... so, this is goodbye?” he asks when they come to a intersection, being able to tell that Juliet has to go the other route from the direction her feet are pointing at.

“Yeah... but only for now! Remember to text me later so I’ll have your number!”

Felix nods. “I will. I’ll see you around?”

“You bet. I still have so much to tell you,” Juliet tells him before they hesitantly go their separate ways, knowing they both have to be at their companies soon but still wanting to catch up more.

It doesn’t take long for her to turn around to watch Felix’s retreating figure, though she immediately bursts into laughter when he does the same, and the two friends give each other one last exaggerated wave before disappearing into the crowds of people.

Despite the freezing temperature, Juliet feels warm and fuzzy on the inside, overjoyed from seeing her childhood friend for the first time in years while also knowing that there will be more to come now that Felix also lives in Seoul.

Things really are starting to look up.

She walks into KQ’s building with a spring in her step, arms clutching her banana milk and chocolate securely when her phone chimes from a notification. Clumsily fumbling with her uniform skirt’s pocket, Juliet fishes out her phone, instantly grinning at the message that pops up on the lockscreen.

[Unknown Number] [16:03] your aussie bro right here!!! 🐨 fighting today!!!!!!

— bonus!!

juliet following felix around the supermarket trying not to look sus like:

a/n: i can’t believe it took me this long to write a scenario with felix but here it is 🥺🥺 bc they were both in a hurry, they didn’t exactly have time for an emotional reunion but rest assured they were very, very happy to see each other :3 especially for juliet, she was still adjusting to everything and everyone at kq, so when felix came into her life again it made her so happy 🥺💕

[writingsfromhome]

Winner’s Choice

A/N: I only have series-type ideas in mind, so I’m trying to write out short one-shot type fics instead just to pump the breaks a little. Any ideas are welcome but here’s my go at this: you lost a drinking contest to Harry and winner decides a tattoo for the loser...

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

"3...2...1...GO!"

I lift the mug to my face and down the beer, ignoring how it splashes over the new top I had worn today. I should've know going out with Harry & Co meant I was getting messy.

Just a second apart, I slam my mug down.

"That was Harry!" The crowd shouts. "Harry's won!"

"It was tied!" I try to shout, ignoring Harry's smug face as his ego rises with the crowd's voice.

"I say rematch!" I shout.

"Don't be a sore loser, love!" Harry shouts at me. I stick my tongue out and hold my empty mug up, declaring louder I wanted a rematch. My swimming head tries to reason with me that it may not be a good idea but I needed to redeem myself.

Harry and I were good friends, I worked as an actor in the industry he dabbled in. And when he laughed at a stupid joke I made one day a few years ago, I'd latched onto him and we'd just become part of each other's lives since.

I moved across the pond from my childhood town in Maine when I turned 21 for an acting job, and have stayed since flitting from role to role. I missed my family and friends but moving here was also the best thing I did for myself. It did get lonely...which was why meeting Harry was also one of the best things to happen to me. Over the first year of knowing him, his friends became my friends and vice versa. I called them all Harry& Co. especially when I was drunk, all their faces blurred into each other and there were too many of them. Except for Harry. His face always stood out from a crowd. Being around him usually cured the ache I had for home.

"If I go again, you've got to put something on the table." Harry finally agrees. The crowd shouts out inappropriate things I could put down and I flip them off. I catch my friend's eye and she gives me a cautious look but I shake my head. I was having fun tonight.

"Loser gets a tattoo of the winner's choice. Tonight." Harry announces and the group goes crazier. My own mouth drops. I had to win this, knowing Harry he would do something ridiculous like his face on my ass. And this was the first time I lost to Harry, I could do this.

"Deal," I shake on it.

"Wait!" My friend tries to reason with us but we pull our mugs supplied by the crowd, closer to us.

"3...2...1...Go!"

I black out downing it but somehow, Harry's mug clashes down millisecond before mine does. A silence descends the room before Harry laughs. And suddenly everyone is shouting, cheering, throwing out tattoo ideas, and one voice is just shouting long live Harry over and over.

"I...." my mouth doesn't close on it's own, I lost. I rarely lost a drinking contest. But...Harry had me beat.

"Fair and square," Harry maneuvers around the table to sit beside me.

"I lost." I say, dumbstruck.

"It happens to the best of us, eventually." Harry kisses my cheek before jumping up and taking my hand. "Celebration dance."

I let him drag me to the dancefloor, trying to bring my mind back to reality. I was going to get a tattoo. My first. "Harry-Harry!" I try to get his attention. "Nothing ridiculous?"

"No promises," he winks. The alcohol sloshes in my brain as he pulls me into him and moves from side to side.

"Harry!" I shout out.

"You'll see," he grins, enjoying my torture way too much. "Just dance now."

His voice in my ear tickles, and I feel fluttery, far away. Some part of me knows that sober me was going to be pissed at drunk me.

I dance with Harry, following his lead, eventually drifting off to my friends, some strangers, and back to him.

"Should we get that tattoo now?" Harry says in my ear then.

"Maybe..." I try to put on my best convincing voice on. "We should wait for tomorrow."

"Nope!" Harry shouts gleefully. "Let's go now!"

"Nothing's open!" I shout but I was lying and he doesn't believe me for a second. I sigh, and find my friends to say goodbye. They try to tell me I didn't have to follow through but I know Harry would get this done one way or another. I may as well get it done while I was drunk and blame it on that.

The cold outside reminds me I left my coat inside, and when I come back out Harry's jumping up and down to keep warm. It makes me laugh but he quickly tugs on my arm. We run to stay warm towards wherever he decided this was going to happen.

It's a few blocks away, a sterile looking place with crazy colours on the walls that I realise are tattoo designs. The warmth inside the studio makes me shiver and Harry wraps his arm around me as we walk through.

"Harry nothing unprofessional please? I don't want to get fired from a job I don't even have." The cold air had sobered me up a bit and I was starting to regret this even more.

"Don't you trust me?" He asks with a glint to his eye that I didn't trust. "Wait here."

I sit down while he goes to talk to the artist, showing her his phone, pointing to various parts of his body.

"Y/N! Come on!"

I drag my feet over and glare at him as I settle in.

"You'll have to take your shirt off," Harry lets me know.

"You're picking where I get it too?" I ask.

"That's part of the deal!"

"I should've read the fine print," I grumble. Harry shows the artist the side of my rib cage-my shirt was still on but his finger traces a small curve up and down where he wants to place it. It sends butterflies to my stomach.

"Okay," I grab his hand so he could stop doing that. It wasn't helping my nerves. "Let's get this over with. But you can't stay."

"Yes I can," Harry insists. "I make up the rules."

"If I have to take my shirt off, he goes." I look at the girl giving me my tattoo and she shrugs, looking over at Harry. He sighs but agrees.

I take my shirt off and have to hike my bra strap higher, ready to settle into the torture.

"Please tell me it's nothing crude? His face included? Or a stupid message like Y/N hearts Harry?"

The artist laughs, "I'm not allowed to tell you anything apparently but from one girlfriend with a crazy boyfriend to another. It's not. Don't worry, just relax."

I try to tell her Harry wasn't my boyfriend but she turns away and I decide it wasn't worth it. I'd explained that a million times to my own mom who always asked if we'd gotten together yet. It was embarassing, my family back home was convinced we were having a secret affair. I stopped wasting my breath nowadays.

"So, do you get this kind of request often?" I try to make small talk.

"More than you think," the cold of whatever she spreads on my skin makes me shiver. I sort of wish Harry was here, to keep me distracted. I pull my phone out and text him.

"I'm back," his head pops in a few minutes later. The tattoo artist looks to me to make sure I was okay.

"Just talk your usual shit so I don't have to think about what I agreed to," I call out. He sits beside me but he falls silent. When I lift my head to look at him, he's staring at me. "Hey!"

"Sorry, I was thinking about the other tattoos I'm going to beat you into getting."

I roll my eyes, but my skin warms under his gaze. "I'm never agreeing to something like this ever again. You got me while I was weak."

"I'll convince you to get another tattoo again," Harry rolls closer to me. He rests his arms on my leg and leans his head on it.

"My leg's going to fall asleep," I warn him.

"Then we'll put another tattoo there," he smiles.

And back and forth we go, he keeps me distracted, and for the most part, the tattoo process is okay. I'm barely listening as she begins to tell me about its aftercare, she'd already said she would give me a pamphlet and Harry had plenty experience, I could ask him.

"Do you want to see it before I wrap it up?" She asks me. From what I felt, it was at least a few inches long and a bigger tattoo was too scary for me to think about.

"I need something to drink before I look at it," I say. "But I know if I don't like it it's his fault not yours."

"You'll love it," Harry pulls me to him and presses a wet kiss to my cheek. I push him away aggressively and agree to be bandaged. I tell Harry he owed me a few beers before I looked at it and he agrees. He purchases some on our way back to my place along with some food. The train ride home is mostly filled with him gloating but I suffer through it, imaging the worst case scenarios.

Back at my place, I stand in front of the full length mirror in my room, deathly afraid. I had waited nervously, threw back a couple of beers and shoved excessive pizza in my mouth. Harry seems more excited than me for the reveal and finally he joins me upstairs.

"So?" He asks, eyes on me in the mirror.

"Fine." I decide. I peel my shirt off slowly and Harry helps, I try to ignore the way my knees turn into jello at the sight of him doing that. "Fine."

My bra is crooked and I act as casual as possible that Harry is still standing behind me. I slowly peel the bandaging off, Harry comes around to help. I close my eyes as he finishes and count to three in my head. When I see it, my heart stops.

"Do you like it?" Harry asks like a kid on Christmas morning. He's buzzing with nervous excitement but all I can do is stare at the simple tattoo as my heart swells.

A few inches big, covering the side of my ribcage, is a twig of wild blueberries: a symbol of home.

"How did you..." I'm at a loss for words. My first tattoo. I just got my first tattoo, and it was...perfect.

"Well, you're always taking about how you miss home. And you rarely get to go back because of your schedule. And I looked up the official things for Maine, didn't think you wanted a moose so I-"

I shut him up by kissing him; that was the only possible response to this. He'd tricked me into getting the most perfect tattoo and if I was ever unsure before I was sure now that I loved Harry Styles. He knew me. His choice of tattoo made that clear. And I loved him.

"Woah," Harry steadies my shoulders when we part.

"It's perfect," I say, feeling tears well up in my eyes. "I don't know what else to say."

"I should've got you a tattoo a long time ago," he says before kissing me again. I could do this forever, I think, as I bury my hands in his hair.

His hand brushes the open tattoo and I flinch. It didn't hurt, but it was slightly sore.

"Sorry," he apologises against my lips. "We should probably take care of that."

"Ugh, wait." I kiss him one last time. "Where's that info sheet-"

"It's okay, c'mon." He leads me into the bathroom and sits me down on the countertop. I watch as he carefully washes his hands and washes the area. He knows where everything is. His face is scrunched in concetration as he washes and dries it. I marvel at how the evening started with his chaotic public personality to this gentle version here.

"This is gonna be cold," he warns before applying jelly over the whole thing. "Don't sleep on this side."

"I won't. I don't really plan on sleeping at all," I grab his shirt and pull him back up to me. I feel him smile as I kiss him, and he pushes me as far back as I can go before I hit the mirror behind me. I can tell he wanted this as bad as I did, and if it weren't for the tattoo we would be a roughened jumble on my bed right now.

"Bad night for a tattoo," he rests his forehead on mine.

"A tattoo can't stop me," I say. "Let's go." I lead him back to my bed and unclasp my bra. "I probably shouldn't be wearing this anyway."

"Fuck," Harry's mouth hangs open but before I can grow self conscious, he strides over and crashes into me. He doesn't bother with holding back, although he avoids my right side. But it doesn't even matter as I simultaneously forget every sense I have and feel every single nerve in my body at the same time as he takes me to bed.

After, when we lay facing each other on the bed, Harry uses his finger to trace my face. When he reaches my mouth, I kiss his finger. "Thanks. Tonight was...great."

"If you think tonight was great, wait until your tattoo heals." He swipes down my nose.

"I was only talking about the tattoo," I tease. "The rest of the night was...okay."

"Okay?" He immediately perches up.

"Yeah. Like...a 6 out of 10?"

He turns on his back and laughs, "You're in so much trouble. You better watch what you say next!"

"I'm not afraid of you--you had your chance with the tattoo and you chose something lovely."

He turns back to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. "You have to trust me."

"I do...usually." I smile. Harry rests his hand on my hip and zones out, his mind elsewhere. The silence stretched out and I can't help but ask.

"So...tonight isn't like, a one time thing right?" I was going to wait to ask but my nerves needed to be soothed. I also didn't want things between Harry and I to be in a gray area. He meant too much to me.

"No, unless...you want it to be?"

"No!" I nearly shout. "Only the tattoo part. Everything else, I'd like again."

"Okay, good." He slides closer to me under the duvet. "Because I wouldn't mind putting a label on this and-"

"Done." I say, not caring how eager I sounded because the grin that splits his face shows the same eagerness.

I mentally apologise to all the people I scolded who asked when Harry and I would get together. As I nuzzle my head into his chest, and he drapes his arm around me, I just think about how right it feels and why I didn't do it sooner. Tonight was a crazy night of bad decisions but every single outcome was perfect.

"I love you Y/N," Harry says after a while, I thought he'd already fallen asleep. I peek out from my position and his eyes are closed. I wait a moment but they remain closed.

I snuggle back in and suppress the urge to squeal. This night felt too good to be real, like I would wake up tomorrow morning and realise it was all a drunk-hallucination. And on the off chance that might be true, I wrap myself tighter against him and whisper the words back, hoping that he was awake enough to hear them.

When his arms tighten around me, I fall asleep happy, knowing he knows too. Maybe tomorrow morning, I would say it again.

[blacknight1230]

The Past Catches Up With You

OUAT Peter Pan Imagine

Prompt: “I know what I have to do. But going back means I’ll have to face my past. I’ve been running from it for so long” & “Once you’re grown up, you can never come back.” 

The sound if arrows flying through the air then hitting their target and the clashing of swords filled the area. “Nice one, Devin. Now try letting go of the arrow when you breath out,” you instructed one of the Lost Boys. Devin wordlessly nodded and did what you told him, his arrow hitting the target dummy straight in the head. “Excellent work. Rufio, don’t do such fancy moves. It’s about hitting the target in the weak points, not showing off,” you commanded. “Whatever you say, mom,” Rufio sassed, ignoring your helpful tips. You narrowed your eyes at him and strode up to him, quickly knocking him off his feet with a few well placed punches and kicks. “And this is why Pan ordered me to train you boys. You guys are good fighters, but he wants the best, so you either listen to what I say or you’ll end up worse than this,” you scolded the dazed teen. You walked away, towards Pan’s second-in-command, and one of your best friends, Felix. 

“Nice way to show them who’s boss, (y/n),” Felix complemented as he sharpened his sword. “Thanks, Felix. These boys have sure have authority problems when it comes to someone other than Pan giving them orders,” you said, sitting next to Felix on a log. “They listen to me, though,” Felix pointed out. “True. I have theory that they don’t respect me as much cause I’m the only girl here. And I happen to be one of Pan’s most trustworthy,” you told the scar-faced teen. “It’s possible. The boys aren’t too keen on newcomers. You being a girl doesn’t make matters better.” You rolled your eyes; you’ve been here for a couple of years, but time on Neverland was different than everywhere else. “I’ve earned this position despite being a girl. They should know that Pan doesn’t just trust me without a proper reason,” you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Speak of the devil,” Felix said, motioning his head towards a figure appearing from the green foliage. 

Peter Pan stood to the side of the training ground, eyes intensely watching the boys as they practiced archery, swording fighting, and sparring. Authority and dark magical power radiated from his figure, his green eyes glowing as they seemingly stared into the very existence of his Lost Boys. He was expressionless as he mentally noted what the boys were doing wrong and right. The sight before you made you feel warm, but you tried not to show how the piper affected you. Said boy locked eyes with you, a smirk breaking out onto his lips as he strode over to you. “Tired, love. Are the boys too much for you to handle?” he teased, raising one magnificently sculpted eyebrow. “More like they can’t handle me. Rufio over there is still bandaging his hurt pride when I knocked him to the ground for back talking,” you chuckled, eyeing said boy. He was grumpily pouting on a wooden log across from where you were. Peter found this rather amusing, a sly smirk on his face. “His loss, love. Come, I think the boys had enough training for today,” he said, getting up from the log. He whistled loudly, getting all the, boys attention and told them, “Alright, boys training’s over! Get back to camp if you want your fill of dinner before its gone!” 

A stampede of hungry, teenage boys rushed towards the main camp, dirt and dust flying as they did so. You camly got up and followed the horde of Lost Boys, used to their frenzied antics. Peter walked alongside you, as you took your time walking the path back to the main camp. “I’m still surprised you can put up with our rowdiness. Being a princess and all, I’d expect you complain endlessly about how ‘wild’ we are,” Peter said as you traveled through the jungle of Neverland. “Hey, I was a rebel princess. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t even be here,” you defended yourself, punching the King of Neverland playfully, but hard, in the arm. Pan allowed you to hit him, as you knew he could easily stop you, and playfully cried out in pain. 

Before you were the first Lost Girl on Neverland, you were a princess, although not first in line to inherit your kingdom. Unlike the other inhabitants of Neverland, you were not from the Enchanted Forest or the Land Without Magic. You were a princess from another dimension, and you hated your royal roots. You hated the stuffy dresses, the countless rules, the strict and stone faced members of the royal house ... hell, you couldn’t even talk to or hang out with anyone that wasn’t humanoid or a royal non-humanoid from an allied kingdom. Like the monsters that were repressed by your people. It was suffocating and you didn’t conform to your families strict ideals. 

As such, your family finally had enough of your “rebelliousness” and decided to send you off to an institution know for “correcting” wayward princesses. You, in turn, had enough of royalty and fled your home without a word, seeking out the freedom you dearly longed for. Eventually, you found your way to Neverland, encountering Pan and his Lost Boys, who met your arrival with them encircling you with weapons drawn, aimed to kill. The only reason you were still alive today was that you were able to hear Pan’s flute, meaning you were lost, and therefore part of the Lost Boys. It took awhile for everyone to trust you, especially Pan, but it happened and you were never felt more like you were home. 

Back to the present, you and Peter finally reached the main camp, a raging bonfire going on in the middle of the layout of tents and huts. The boys were either chowing down or were dancing to the beat of the drums. Peter left you to go include himself in the boys merry making as you grabbed a bite to eat. Grabbing a slice of meat from the day’s hunt, you silently greeted a few of the boys with a raise of your cup. The younger boys dragged you to sit with them, happily chatting away as they told you about their day. 

Soon you were done with your meal and the music called to you. Like you were under a spell, you jumped into the frey of wildly dancing bodies, letting the music guide your movements. You danced freely with your fellow lost brothers, your mind focusing on the sound of the pan flute and the drums. As you danced around the fire, you saw Peter staring intensely at you with his green eyes, the light of the bonfire casting shadows across his face, intensifying the strikingness of his attractive features. You couldn’t help but keep his gaze as you danced, enjoying the way he was looking at you with such intensity, an undistinguishable emotion flowing in his eyes. 

Unfortunately, the party was interrupted by a loud sound and a bright light. Everyone stopped in the middle of what they were doing, staring at a hole ripped into the fabric of space and time right near the center of the campgrounds. The portal seemed to shine brighter as two figures appeared from the other side of it. As they stepped through, the portal closed behind them, allowing you to see their features now that the unnatural brightness was gone. One of the figures was a teenage boy, characterized with tan skin, dark brown hair, and a mole on his right cheek. He was wearing red hoodie over a light grey shirt, dark grey skinny jeans, and olive/white sneakers on his slender build. His brown eyes eyed the Lost Boys nervously, his hand twitching over the hilt of the sword in his sheath. The other figure was a teenage girl with long blonde hair, light blue eyes, and fair skin. On her head, she wore a magenta headband with devil horns, paired with a green and mint collared short sleeved dress, pink and purple striped leggings, white boots with pink tips and a star on each heel, along with a black spider necklace. But the most astonishing part about the girl was the pink heart shaped marks she had on her cheeks. 

Peter and the Lost Boys immediately surrounded the two newcomers, weapons pointed at them. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my island?” Peter growled. The boy immediately pulled out his sword and took a defensive stance. The girl on the other hand, raised her hands up and yelled, “Stop! We’re not here to hurt anyone! We’re just looking for someone!” Peter dismissed her claim, saying, “Whoever you are looking for is not here! Now leave before my boys and I make you wish you never stepped foot here!” The boy raised their weapons, slowly drawing closer to the new girl and boy. The girl now raised her up hands up and took a defensive stance, her hands glowing purple with magic. 

Before any violence could come to a head, you shouted a command out to the Lost Boys and Peter, breaking the tense air. “Everyone put your weapons down!” you shouted, voice strong and dominating. The Lost Boys, confused by the order, slightly lowered their weapons and allowed you to walk through the crowd of them to the new visitors. As you showed yourself to the newcomers, the blonde haired girl’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock. “ (Y/n)?” the girl said. “Star,” you said breathlessly, unable to bite back the smile that made its way to your face. Star’s hands stopped glowing and she tackled you ina hug, which you gladly returned. “Um, what’s going on?” the hoodie wearing boy asked, completely clueless. “Marco, this is my cousin I told you about? I’m pretty sure I told you about my favorite family member,” Star explained, looking at her friend while still holding on you. 

“Oh, isn’t this precious,” Pan sneered, interrupting the moment. “A family reunion. How wonderful that they’ve come to visit.” You decided to ignore Peter and his terrible attitude, continuing to talk to your four-years younger cousin. “How did you find me, Star? Neverland isn’t on any map and can’t be visited through ordinary means,” you asked. “I was able to use your old tiara to finding out what dimension you were in! Pretty cool right,” Star bragged a giant smile on her face. Before you could say another word, Peter got in between the two of you, creating a distance of a few feet. “Peter!” you exclaimed angrily. “What the hell?” “I don’t care that you’re her family. I want you off my island. (y/n) has already told me about the way you treated her and I don’t want someone like you here because of it,” he coldly told Star. “Hey, man, back off!” Star’s friend, Marco, yelled stepping in front of Star protectively. The Lost Boys didn’t like this, murder in their eyes as they crowded around you four, fingers itching to use their weapons. “Everyone stop! I don’t want any fighting!” you shouted, dreading for any blows coming to a head. The Lost Boys slightly calmed down, but they were still tense. 

“Peter, Star was the only one in my family that I could be myself around. I see I rubbed off on you a bit,” you said. “You guys keep talking about our family as if they were abusive, keeping you locked up and so on,” Star pointed out. “I forget you were too young to understand at the time. Grandma Etheria and the rest of the Butterfly family constantly looked down at me, finding fault in everything I did. I didn’t dress right, talk right, sit right, walk right ... and they let me know. It practically destroyed my self-esteem. And to make matter worse, Grandma Etheria decided to send me to St. Olga’s,” you explained to your younger cousin. “Oh no, not St. O’s!” Star exclaimed in horror. “Please don’t tell me they tried to turn you into a mindless ‘perfect’ princess!” As she said this, she grabbed your forearms and shook you a bit. “Calm down, Star, I didn’t go to St. O’s. I left home before I was forcibly shipped off. I had a pair of dimension scissors and used them to hop from dimension to dimension until I eventually found my way here,” you continued, smiling when you reminisced about finding Neverland, your true home. 

“I’m happy you found a place you could finally be yourself. If I wasn’t so desperate for your help, I wouldn’t even ask you this,” Star said. This worried you; what did she want you to do? Star quickly answered your question before you voiced it, saying, “I need you to come back to Mewni with me.” “What?!” you shouted, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m sorry, but I really need your help! My mom has disappeared and I can’t find her, the Butterfly castle and kingdom are destroyed by Eclipsa’s half-monster daughter and she escaped her crystal! I can’t do this on my own and everything is in disarray!” Star cried. 

All this new information shocked you, making you stand there in silence. Peter decided to step in, angrily setting in Star’s face. “You might be royalty, but I’m the king here. I say who steps foot on and leaves my island. This includes (y/n). Since she’s lost, that means she belongs here and with me. Shfe’s mine, and she’s not going anywhere off this island,” he threatened. Star stood her ground, staring into his harsh green eyes that seemed to glow with dark power. “Then you don’t know (y/n), because she hates other people making choices for her.” She turned towards you and continues, saying, “(y/n), I’m sorry for our family treating you so terribly and I understand your reason for running away. But I still care for you and so does my mother, both of us missing you terribly when you left. If you still love us as much as we love you, I beg you to help me. I need you, my mom needs you, Mewni needs you!” 

(y/n) could only stand there in silence, which Peter mistook for her not wanting to return to her home, while in reality she was pondering over her beloved cousin’s words. “Get off my island. I never want to see your faces again,” he threatened, before whistling loudly, causing the Lost Boys to snap into a a violent, wild frenzy. The area was quickly filled with the sounds of weapons clashing, cries of pain, and angry shouts as Star and Marco fought the Lost Boys. Luckily, Star and Marco were successfully able to defend themselves, despite being greatly outnumbered. Star’s voice filled the air as she shouted spells and Marco yelled as he used karate moves/defended himself with his sword. You tried yelling at both sides to stop fighting, but neither side listened to you, either not hearing you over all the noise or not caring enough to listen to you. This made you angry, so angry you used your magic to cast a powerful spell to end the violence. 

Unlike Star, you didn't need to verbally say a spell to use your magic, simply sending out a wave of bluish-white magic to emit from your magically glowing figure. As the wave of magic hit the Lost Boys, Peter, Star, and Marco, they were enveloped into a quartz of crystal, frozen in place. You sighed as you stood past the crystal prisons of your fellow Lost Boys, stopping at Peter’s crystal, staring at his evil smirk on his face and the magic accumulated in his hands. “You just couldn’t wait and let me think for a moment could you, “ you said sadly. You used your magic to reverse the spell, and on Star and Marco as well. The three teens fell to the ground, gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry, guys. This was the only way to get you to stop fighting and listen to me,” you apologized, helping Star up first. “Was that the Crystal Imprisonment Spell that Rhombulas uses? Where did you learn it?” Star asked, amazed that you could do such advanced magic. “Glossaryck used to give me private lessons. He said that I needed to learn magic, too, in case something happens. But he wasn’t specific on what that was,” (y/n) explained. “That sounds like Glossaryck.” 

You turned towards Peter as he growled, getting up from the ground and his green eyes trained on you. “You little ... How dare you use your magic on me!” he yelled, “Release the Lost Boys right now (y/n)!” “You left me no choice, Peter. You all were attacking my family and I couldn’t just stay by,” you said sternly, brows furrowed as you scolded him. “How can you defend them? They’re the main reason why you are on Neverland in the first place! Or haven’t you forgot that?” Pan seethed. “I haven’t forgotten what they did to me, Pan. But this just isn’t about my family anymore. My homeland is in danger and you’re wrong to think I’ll just sit around and watch shit hit the fan!” you yelled, turning around to walk away, thinking that was the end of it. But it wasn’t and Pan wanted to let you know it. “Oh really? Well, know this, princess, you’ll eventually be disappointed as nothing is going to change. You’ll still be the miserable, insecure, little girl you were when you came here, scrutinized by your family and your people,” Peter threatened, teeth clenched and pure hatred seeping from his pores. 

You stopped, back still facing Peter. Said boy smirked, thinking he won this argument. But what you said surprised the male, saying, without looking at him, “I know what I have to do now, Peter. I know going back means I’ll have to face my past. I’ve been running from it for so long but I have to face it sooner or later. And I choose now.” Pan stood there shocked, mouth open a bit as he contemplated your words, and watched as Marco effortlessly opened a portal to another dimension with a pair of scissors, then entered the hole in the fabric of time and space while mumbling about ‘nachos,’ whatever that was. Star on the other hand, nervously looked behind her at Peter, seemingly contemplating if taking (y/n) away from her current home was a good thing, before regretfully entering the swirling portal. 

Before the (h/c) haired girl followed the two, she turned her head to the side, looking at so called King of Neverland. “I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can, Peter, to my home, the Lost Boys, and you,” she said, so much raw emotion held in her eyes. But Peter didn’t care, only focussing on the frustration that took over his heart and mind. “I forbid you from leaving, (y/n)! When you leave this island, you’ll eventually grow up, and once you’re grown up, you can never come back!” he shouted angrily. (Y/n) physically flinched and quickly turned her head back towards the portal, trying not to show the tears in the corners of her eyes. “Goodbye, Peter. Until we meet again.” And with those words, she stepped through the portal and left Neverland, seemingly forever. 

As the portal closed behind her, (y/n)’s magic seemed to leave with her, as the crystals imprisoning the Lost Boys started to melt, freeing them from their containment. Felix was the first to get his bearings, stroding over to Peter and placing a hand on his shoulder, said King of Neverland not tearing his eyes away from the spot in which (y/n) walked into the portal. “Pan, what happened? Where’s (y/n) and the other two?” Felix asked his fearless leader, a scowl on his scarred face. “She’s gone, Felix. She left Neverland,” Peter told his second-in-command emotionlessly. 

Before the taller male could question him some more, the green-clad boy turned and walked away from the center of the campgrounds, towards his own private tent. Felix knew he was taking the Lost Girl’s departure harder than he let on. But he gave his trustful leader some space, allowing Peter to let his emotions loose in private. “(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing,” Felix said quietly to himself, before moving to help his fellow Lost Boys recover from the recent events.

~ Time Skip ~

“Again! I expect you to redo everything until you lot get this right! I have no excuse for weak, boys in my army of Lost Boys!” Peter seethed. It was several months, possibly a year, since (y/n) left Peter and Neverland. At first, Peter was angry, at (y/n) and her cousin, for leaving Neverland. Then, he was angry at himself for letting the Lost Girl leave, thinking he should have done everything he could from letting the girl leave. Eventually, Peter’s anger faded away and was replaced with a longing to see his favorite girl again. It was only until (y/n) left did Peter realize he felt something for the rebel princess, seeing her more as just another inhabitant of Neverland and a pawn in his games. And when he realized this non-platonic feelings, he regretted being so heartless to (y/n) before she left, hating himself for letting that be the last thing he ever said to the (h/c) haired girl. 

Since (y/n) left Neverland, Peter changed, unfortunately for the worse. He was harsher and more cruel towards his Lost Boys and those that had the misfortune of being his enemy. All Pan cared for now was power, stopping at nothing to increase his magical strength by achieving immortality, regardless of the lives he had to take. And that meant he was setting in motion the events that would lead to taking the heart of the Truest Believer from a young boy to remain young forever. 

Hence, the current intense training session the Lost Boys were doing, as Pan need them to be prepared for everything and anything, failure not being an option. “Who knew (y/n) leaving effect Pan this much? He’s been running us into the ground during training even since the girl left him,” Rufio mumbled to a couple of other Lost Boys. Pan heard this, and he did not like it. “What was that Rufio?” he snarled and turned towards the wise-cracking Lost Boy. Rufio’s face paled in fear as Pan strode towards him, his friends that once surrounded him nowhere to be seen, as they fled from Pan’s wrath. 

The poor Lost Boy stood quaking in his boots as the King of Neverland stood in front of him, the slightly shorter leader wrapping a hand around Rufio’s throat, crushing his windpipe and preventing any air from reaching his lungs. Rufio gasped from breath as the other Lost Boys stood there in fear induced silence, unable to do anything but watch. “You’ve been mouthing off too much for my tastes. Looks like I’m going to have to put a stop to it permanently,” Peter growled. He shoved his hand into his chest, fingers wrapping around the boys heart. “Please, no...” Rufio pleaded. 

Pan was just about to rip the boys heart out of his chest and then crush it to dust, when a loud noise and bright light shook the camp site. Everyone turned their heads to the sky, where a giant multicolored portal hung just below the treetops. Something or someone, came out of it, falling to the ground, and the portal closed violently with a loud bang. Peter and the Lost Boys were unable to do anything, as the figure got up from the ground and their features finally revealed by the light of the fire. (H/c) locks framed a (face shape) face, (e/c) eyes looking over everything as a bright smile broke out on the female’s (thin/plump) lips. 

Felix was the first to break the silence, calling out the name of the person. “(y/n)? Is that really you?” the second-in-command asked, shocked that the girl had finally returned to Neverland. “Yeah, it's me,” the former Lost Girl replied a smile on her face. Felix immediately caught the girl in a hug, picking up the (much/slightly) shorter girl in his excitement. It seemed the spell was broken, as the Lost Boys immediately started moving towards the former Lost Girl, chatter filling the silence. 

“Welcome back, (y/n),” Felix said to the girl, after he pulled away from her. “It’s great to be back,” (y/n) replied, her face so full of light and joy. Her (e/c) eyes caught Peter’s, causing the girl to stare straight into the piper’s eyes. He was stunned; here she was, the girl Peter has been obsessing over ever since she left, popping out of the blue, acting as if she never left in the first place. Their longing glaze was broken by a younger Lost Boy tugging on (y/n)’s hand, her attention turning towards the little one. “(Y/n), will you be staying here? Please don’t leave us again,” he said, his voice honey sweet and blue eyes looking at the (h/c) girl with pleading eyes. “Don’t worry, Jack,” (y/n) said, lowing herself so she could be eye level with the young boy. “I won’t be leave you.” 

She rose to her full height and announced with a loud voice, “In fact, I will never have to leave Neverland again. From this moment forward, this island will be my forever home!” The campsite erupted in cheers and howls, all the Lost Boys loudly showing their approval. “If that’s the case then, let’s celebrate! To our one and only Lost Girl!” Felix cheered. As if it wasn’t already possible, the boys got even louder, happily cheering at the chance to party. Peter could only stare on wordlessly, as (y/n) was swept away by several Lost Boys, losing his sight on the magnificent girl. 

~ Time Skip ~

The Lost Boys howled in delight as the drums were banged and the fire in the center of the campsite crackled. Peter watched from the side lines as they danced wildly. But his gaze was focused on one very special dancer. His green eyes followed (y/n), watching every move of her limbs and bend of her body as she danced without a care in the world. She was one with the music as she her body followed the rhythm of the drums. Peter’s eyes caught (y/n)’s (e/c) ones, everything around him seeming to slow down as did so. 

He immediately tore his gaze away from her, pretending to be watching Felix wrestle some unfortunate soul into the dirt ground. In the corner of his eye, he saw (y/n) stop her lively dancing and steadily make his way towards him. Peter felt his breath get caught in his chest as she came closer, but was able to calm himself down before (y/n) got close enough to notice the effect she had on him. 

“Enjoying the party?” she asked him, leaning against the bark of a tree next to him. “Of course. I enjoy seeing my boys let loose for once. The drinks help a bit, too,” he replied, gesturing towards the wooded cup in his hand. (Y/n) gazed out at rowdy group of wild teenage boys in front of her, a closed-mouth smile on her face. “I missed this. The freedom, how carefree everything is, not having any responsibilities,” she admitted. “You missed all of this? Even Rufio’s attitude?” he asked, surprised. 

(Y/n) let out a short laugh, music to Peter’s ears. “Is it so surprising I missed my home. There wasn’t a day where I didn’t long to come back here and just let loose,” (y/n) continued, (e/c) eyes glowing in the firelight as she stared out at the wild party goers. It was silent for a little bit, a hint of awkwardness in the air. “So, um, what exactly happened back on Meowy?” Peter spoke up, desperately trying to break the silence. “Mewni. And so much happened. Everything has changed. And I couldn’t be happier,” (y/n) explained, a smile on her face as she reminisced. “Tell me about it. I’ve never heard of it before.” 

“Well, I won’t go into the long and detailed history, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear about that. But I will tell you that Mewni is now unified between its people and the kingdom is in the hands of its true queen,” (y/n) explained as shortly as she could. “Well, that’s good,” Peter replies. A pregnant pause filled the air, until Peter thankfully broke it. “Is what you said before actually true?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “What?” you question, thinking you misheard him. “You said would never leave Neverland again? Was that true? Or was that just something you said that was in spur of the moment?” Peter continued. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t believe what she was true. Why would she want to stay here and be with me? he thought. Especially after how I treated her the last time I saw her. “Peter,” (y/n) said softly. “I was serious when I said that. Nothing will make me leave Neverland and you guys again.”

Peter felt his heart stop for moment, in disbelief at what she just told him. (Y/n) turned her kind gaze away from looking down at her hands folded in her lap. “Besides, it’s not like I can return home anyway,” she said softly. “Wait, what?” Peter thought he heard wrong. “It’s no big deal. You already know I never saw Mewni as my home. Neverland is my home. When the chance came for me to spend forever in my homeworld or spend forever here, I made my choice,” she explained nonchalantly. Peter could only open his mouth wide in shocked silence. He never thought she would such a thing. Give up her family and everything she known just to be with for him and the Lost Boys. It was almost insane. 

“You really did all of that? Even after what I said to you before you left?” Peter gaped. “I’m sorry ... for what I said by the way. I wasn’t thinking straight and -” “Wow, the Peter Pan apologizing. To little old me,” (y/n) teased a goofy smile on her face. “Don’t make fun of me. You know I’m don’t ever apologize ” Peter pouted. (y/n) giggled, forcing a hidden smile to make its way to Peter’s lips. “I missed you, you know. Can you believe that?” Peter admitted, trying to hide his warming cheeks. (y/n) was astonished at his confession.“You really missed me? I thought you would have forgotten about me.” “I would never. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you,” Peter continued, gently taking the girl’s hands into his. (Y/n) looked down their combined hands, cheeks red at the feeling of Peter’s warm hands. “I did, too. The thought of Neverland and you kept me going. You were my reason to keep fighting, so one day I would be able to return to you.” 

Peter gently placed his fingertips under her chin, directing her downcast eyes to look at him. “(Y/n) ...” he trailed off. He didn't know what he was going to say, his eyes flicking to her luscious soft lips. Peter couldn’t help but subconsciously darted his tongue out to wet his own, longing to meet them with hers. His hand trailed to cup her cheek, enjoying the site of her reddening skin under his rough fingertips. (Y/n)’s luminous (e/c) orbs nervously flew to look back at him, her breathing hitching in her throat. He watched her for a moment, looking for any indication that she was uncomfortable. But there was none, so Peter slowly inched closer, stopping until there was little more than an inch between them. He heart stopped as (y/n) closed the distance between them, the organ soaring at the feeling of her luscious lips on his own. Peter felt her wrap her hands around his neck loosely, his other hand moving to grip tightly to (y/n)’s hip. He could taste the Neverberries from the juice she had before, along with a specific taste he couldn’t quite identify. But he couldn't get enough it, shown by him adding more pressure into the kiss. (Y/n) reacted positively, fingers gripping onto the hairs at the base of his neck, a little mewl coming from her lips as she relaxed into his hold. Peter was just about to kick it up a notch when they were rudely interrupted. 

“Hey, lovebirds! Get a tent will ya?” Felix shouted from across the campfire, hands cupped over his mouth and announcing the scene to everyone. (Y/n) was the first to pull away, face red as the Lost Boys howling once they noticed what their leader and Lost Girl were doing. “Shut up all of you!” Peter hollered at the boys. He was just about to teach them all a lesson when he felt (y/n) lean her head onto his chest. He looked down she was hiding her face in his shirt in embarrassment, the sight causing his heart pang in pity. “Peter, let’s go somewhere else. Please,” (y/n) quietly pleaded. “Alright, dear. Let’s head back to my tent. I still want to be with my favorite Lost Girl,” he whispered in her ear, placing a kiss on her forehead. Peter wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist and gently led her away from the center of camp. The Lost Boys started cheer and make lewd comments, which Peter when stopped at the entrance of his private abode, (y/n) continuing on inside without him. “Not another word from any you, or else I’ll be locking you in the cages for a week!” he threatened, glaring at them with darkness in his eyes. The boys shut up, knowing their leader was serious as they avoided eye contact. “Felix, knock up into shape if anything happens.” The second-in-command smirked, giving Peter a quick wink. The green-clad boy ignored it, heading inside and back to the beautiful girl waiting for him. (y/n) was laying on his fur-covered bed, patiently waiting for him. Peter sighed and crawled next to her, pulling her into arms once he was comfortable. He snuggled into neck, placing soft kisses onto her exposed neck. “Stay with, darling. I want you in my arms tonight,” Peter pleaded, already feeling his eyes close in bliss. “With you. Always.” 

[beeapolitan]

A Different Rhythm

Happy holidays, @onetruethree​! I was your @mlsecretsanta​ for the year!

I’m sorry it took so long to finally finish, it ended up being a lot longer than I initially planned. But I hope you still enjoy this Marigami fic!

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Kagami felt the tense vibrations of her wooden sword slamming against marble travel down her wrists and up to her forearms. Another strike off target from the wool dummy facing her. The fourth miss in ten swings. The nagging numbness in her hands was all the proof she needed to confirm her recent observations.

It was obvious – she was off her rhythm. Not just in her swordsmanship, but in every other manner of her being. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the cause of the shift. Life had turned upside down for her in the past few months. Instead of being isolated and given a mountain of work to do, she had found out what it was like to be social for a change. Getting to fence with the famous Adrien Agreste had opened a lot of doors for her. She gained a friend, an avenue of escape from everyday life, and a collection of experiences she’d never even considered possible for herself.

And on top of all that, there was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her first real friend outside of Adrien. They hadn’t started off on a great note, but things had been steadily improving since then. She had come to consider Marinette someone very dear to her. Lately, Kagami had become fairly skilled at coming up with excuses to see her friend whenever her mother’s iron grip eased up a bit. Solitary fencing practices turned to café meetups, simple runs for food became quick shopping trips, and morning jogs often lead her past the Dupain-Cheng Bakery where she could at least catch of glimpse of Marinette, if nothing else. In her younger age, she would have been caught by her mother already, but the restrictions weren’t as tight as they once were. She clearly had a ways to go before her mother would let her off the leash completely, but there was still a clear improvement.

Despite the improvements, there were still plenty of reminders that Kagami was basically chained to her mother’s hip. The most recent of which sat on her bed just within eyeshot. A slim bright white kimono with black outlines of lilies lining the sides. It was specifically given to Kagami by her mother to be worn at a meeting with some important people. Kagami only partly listened to her mother’s instructions once she laid the kimono out for her. It was common for her to be dragged along to meetings and events with little warning or explanation beforehand. It was a bother, but a necessary one. The more she complied with that side of her mother’s requests, the easier it was to live life in her own way when she was alone.

In any other context, it would have been a beautiful piece of clothing to wear, but looking at it only reminded Kagami of how she felt lately. About how her mother toted her around like a pet instead of a daughter. If the progress she had made felt like climbing a steep staircase, the reminder of her status in the family was like those same stairs flipping around to put her back at the bottom. It was so frustrating. All this training, the studying, and for what? How much of it would it take to be seen as the person she’d become instead of the sole Tsurugi daughter?

Kagami raised her sword overhead and brought it down hard on the training dummy’s head. If she split this thing in two with raw strength, would that do the trick? Her mother had always preached strength as a part of her training. How much did she need to be free of her influence? She brought down the sword again even harder, rattling the dummy on its stand. She hit it again, her arms pushed forward by her anger. She hit again and again, her strikes growing in power yet lacking her usual accuracy as they flailed around. With a loud shout, she swung for the dummy again but missed, causing her sword to go flying out of her hands and straight into a set of ornamental blades on the wall. They rattled around for a minute before remaining in place.

Just before Kagami could breathe easy, the lower hanging blade of the two fell from its sheathe, landing right on the edge of her bed. Right where the kimono from her mother lay. If Kagami’s breath hadn’t been held, she might not have heard the sound of tearing fabric so vividly. She didn’t move from her spot after the sound finally stopped. Standing still in the middle of the room granted her a defense from the truth, albeit a weak one. In reality however, there was no escaping the fact that her burst of anger had gotten her into unbelievable trouble.

Slowly, she inched her way over to her bed to inspect the damage. When she finally got there, her eyes bulged at the sight. It was a big tear, a jagged line running diagonally across the back of the kimono. It was shaped like a crooked smile, mocking her as her blood ran cold. Kagami could practically hear her mother’s shrill yelling coming through it, holding her in place.

She couldn’t stay here. She had to move.

Kagami carefully folded the kimono and placed it inside her duffel bag after removing her fencing equipment. She slung the bag around her shoulders and bolted out of the house, the thumping of her quick footsteps down the stairs matching the sound and pace of her heartbeat. The bright midday sun hit her eyes hard once she made it out onto the busy Paris streets. It didn’t take long for her feet to propel her in a random direction.

There was nowhere in the city she knew of that could undo her mistake very easily, but leaving it be was not an option. If her mother found out about the tear, it would make their home hell on Earth for the next few days. Kagami would practically be put on lockdown, forced to study and train with no contact to the outside world. That couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it. And yet, she knew determination would only get her so far. She still needed actual help.

When it came to fashion and clothing design, the first person to come to mind was Gabriel Agreste, but she obviously couldn’t go to him. Whatever pact he shared with her mother would expose her the second she told him about her accident. No, she would have to try harder than that to find help. But where was she supposed to start? After leaving her home, she had simply been walking without a destination in mind, hoping that some luck might be thrown her way for once. That wasn’t looking all that likely, however.

Kagami finally stopped her train of thought long enough to look at where she was walking. She had autopiloted to a part of town that seemed familiar to her for some reason. That reason became strikingly apparent once the smell of baked goods drifted past her nose. Her head jerked to the left, where a large window with gold trim on the edges sat just a few feet away. She had seen those very windows plenty of times, as well as the pair of bluebell eyes fixed right on her. Behind the large glass window stood Marinette, pinches of flour dotting her face and the tan apron hanging from her neck. Marinette put on a wide smile that pushed her cheeks up and waved.

Despite having absolutely nothing to be happy about, Kagami couldn’t stop the thin smile forming on her face at the sight of the blue-eyed girl.

“Kagami, hey!” Marinette’s voice bounded with her steps out of the bakery door. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um, happened to be passing by.”

“Oh, in that case, do you want to come inside? I just finished making some sweet buns.”

Once the initial butterflies had died down, Kagami realized what she had stumbled upon. Maybe her luck had come through after all.

“Actually, Marinette…do you think you could do me a favor?”

“Hm?”

It wasn’t often Kagami was able to be in a house that wasn’t her own, especially not one that radiated so much pleasantness. Marinette’s home was the very definition of comfort, with smells of warm bread coming from the bakery below and an atmosphere that made you feel like you were being swaddled in a thick blanket. Walking into Marinette’s room in particular gave her the same feeling as being met with the midday sun coming out of her own house. It was so bright and lived in, with pictures lining the walls and odd little trinkets in every corner, the type of room you’d see in teenage movies. Kagami sat on Marinette’s bed, watching as she held the kimono aloft for inspection.

“Thank you again for this, Marinette. I’m truly in your debt.”

“It’s no problem at all, Kagami. I’m just surprised you trust me enough to help with this.”

It would have been easy for Kagami to say that Marinette was her only remaining option. That the visit was simply because she had nowhere else to go, no one left to turn to. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that her feet had led her to the bakery before any other options came to mind.

“Of course I trust you. We’re friends, are we not?”

Marinette let out a little giggle. “We sure are. Just give me a little bit and I’ll have this fixed up for you.”

There was a simplistic kind of joy in watching Marinette work on something fashion related, Kagami thought. She was used to seeing her friend tripping over herself and her words, unable to perform normally when in a crowd. Here, there weren’t any signs of that trademark clumsiness. Marinette pulled thread with one hand and measured with the other, rolling herself to different spots at her desk like an electrical impulse firing through a neuron. It was a bit mesmerizing to watch. After a few minutes of this, Marinette stopped moving and mumbled something to herself. Kagami craned her head to the side to see Marinette hunched over her desk, searching through a bunch of baskets.

“Is something the matter?”

“It’s not a big deal, I just need a bit more thread to finish out your dress. We’ll have to go to the store to get some more.”

“Oh, I see. I apologize for inconveniencing you like this.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s just a short walk into town. Come on, let’s go!”

There wasn’t any time to get another word out before Marinette grabbed Kagami by the wrist, leading her down the stairs and onto the city streets. True to Marinette’s word, they were in and out of the fabric store in no time. With that being done so fast, Marinette suggested spending a little longer having fun in the city. Kagami wasn’t sure at first. She probably shouldn’t push her luck anymore than necessary. Then again, there were still a few hours until she actually had to meet her mother at the Métro. A few hours which she could happily spend in the company of Marinette. After all, her mother had given her no instructions for how to spend her time before the event, and even if she had, she was too far away to do anything about it. Kagami accepted, her steps becoming a bit lighter beside Marinette’s as they headed deeper into the city.

The more time the two spent together, the more Kagami found herself enamored by Marinette’s presence. It was the way she rambled on about the process of making baked goods, diving into every little process with striking detail. The way her eyelashes fluttered looking at the sights in the city as if she were seeing them for the first time. The little squeak of effort she made when trying to lick a stray speck of ice cream off her face. It was all too much to handle.

The girls eventually found themselves in the park, walking down a shaded path amongst the other many Parisians enjoying the atmosphere.

“We were lucky it’s such a nice day out,” Marinette said. “I love coming to the park in this kind of weather.”

“I agree. This is exactly the kind of climate I prefer when I’m training. My mother won’t show it, but I suspect she’s a fan of days like this as well.”

“Yeah, I can’t say I see her showing any excitement over a sunny day either. Do the two of you come out here a lot?”

“Yes. So much so that it honestly feels a bit weird not having a sword in my hand right now.”

“Well if you miss it that much…” Marinette broke off from Kagami’s side and wandered into a row of trees. She crouched down and began picking through a bunch of sticks on the ground, holding each up before picking two that were a decent size. She walked back over to Kagami and offered her one of the selections.

Kagami took it and raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are we doing with these?”

“Putting that training of yours to the test.” Marinette bent her knees and spread her feet apart, pointing her stick straight out. She twirled it a bit with a cheesy grin. “En garde, Kagami!”

Kagami couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “You honestly think you can best me in fencing? That’s cute.”

“You’re cute!”

Kagami’s grip on her makeshift sword weakened. Had she heard that right?

“I–I mean, your thinking is cute! You thinking that you’ll beat me, is what I’m saying.”

Ah, that made more sense. It wasn’t the most effective trash talk she had heard, but it had gotten her fired up, so it did the job. She leapt in, slashing at Marinette with the same ferocity she’d show in a real match. There was no need to hold back, not when she knew Marinette was more capable with a weapon than she seemed. Most people might try to prioritize fun over victory in such a situation, but for Kagami, the fun would come from showing off the full extent of her skills.

This was all second nature to her. Fencing came as easily as walking in a straight line. There were steps to it, strategies to follow; everything happened for a reason, so there was no point in being unsure of herself. If there was one part of her mother’s strictness she could have faith in, it was the skill she had gained from so much practice.

She could deal with Marinette’s style of fencing easily enough. For every unorthodox thrust, she had a counter. For every hasty burst of aggression, she could dodge and parry. When it came to exchanging swords, she could manage, so the idea that the same couldn’t be said about casually hanging out was painfully annoying. After all, combat training couldn’t stop Marinette’s eyes from being so piercing. What was she supposed to do when Marinette whiffed a strike and put on a cute pout? How was she supposed to defend herself against a voice that sounded sugary sweet and always left her wanting to hear more?

Even with Adrien things hadn’t been this complicated for her. Back then, she had a clear target and knew exactly how to go about getting to it. Picturing being with him was as simple as picturing her fencing saber piercing an opponent’s shoulder. At least it had been at first. Once she actually became friends with Marinette, she had noticed her drive wavering just a bit. That was only natural wasn’t it? She knew Marinette had feelings for Adrien, it was obvious. The stuttering when she talked to him, her avoidance of eye contact, the toothy smile that usually came with a weird hand motion that barely resembled a wave; the list of evidence went on. Kagami could see it so easily because that’s what she knew a crush to be. Part of her had always wondered if being upfront and composed in similar situations made her seem less passionate by comparison. Even if it didn’t, she couldn’t dispute the fact that her behavior had put her where she was now.

The way she had been feeling the past few hours was how she wanted to feel around Adrien. That’s what she had been telling herself for months. But anything involving Marinette had a tendency to get complicated very quickly, and Kagami’s own feelings were no different. Nothing made sense when it came to the baker’s daughter. As much as she tried to ignore it at the start, she had been drawn in by Marinette’s aura. It had the same presence that her house did, an energy of pleasantness you couldn’t help but get wrapped up in. She hadn’t spoken to Marinette’s other friends very much, but from the little she had, it was obvious that same energy affected them as well. Marinette had the ability to turn on a light in others no matter who they were, a fact Kagami was becoming increasingly aware of with each passing day.

For better or worse, Marinette had fanned the fire inside her. She wasn’t sure exactly what she felt, but it was strong. Much too strong to ignore.

Kagami shook her head midbattle to regain her focus. Even with it being a small contest between friends, she wasn’t about to lose in her area of expertise. Marinette was doing well to keep up with her for the most part, but that was about to change. Kagami switched up her footing just before going for a horizontal slash, causing Marinette to jump backwards. She had good reflexes, but her lack of technical experience took away too much of that benefit. As soon as she jumped back, Kagami was already making a beeline for her landing spot. Marinette’s eyes went wide at the sudden burst of speed. She raised her stick in defense, but by that point it was already too late. Kagami thrust forward her own stick, softly jabbing Marinette’s shoulder right when her feet touched the ground. Marinette let out a yelp as she fell backwards, landing in the grass next to a row of bushes.

Kagami tossed her stick aside and rushed over to help. “Marinette, are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Marinette stood with Kagami’s help and brushed the dirt off her clothes with a chuckle. “Looks like you win.”

The girls collapsed on a bench nearby, fits of laughter poking out between frantic attempts to catch their breath. For something that started as a simple game, they looked as though they had run a marathon. If Kagami’s mother could see her now, she would no doubt give out one of her signature scolding sessions. She’d chastise her for treating combat like a game, and immediately schedule additional training days for her to boot. But her mother wasn’t there. No one would rip this feeling away from her. This feeling of chills racing down her arms that were more of a thrill than a disturbance. That pesky fire was acting up again, filling her body so much that she could feel the heat in the tips of her fingers. She placed her hands together on top of her lap to try and cool down.

It was a few minutes before the breath returned to either of them. Kagami’s ever running train of thought got brought to a halt with the sound of Marinette’s voice breaking the silence.

“So…how are you and Adrien doing?”

The question smacked her atop the head like she was a training dummy, unable to predict or defend. Even after thinking about that very subject for the past few minutes, being asked that still caught her off guard. How should she answer?

There was a time she wished Adrien would get his head on straight and focus for once. Focus on her. But that nagging mentality was slipping more every day. There was contentment in her relationship with him. A sense that she had exactly what she needed from it. They enjoyed each other’s company, they confided in one another, and there was mutual understanding that they would be there for each other if needed. It had taken a while for things to become what they were, but ultimately, she was satisfied. That same feeling was nowhere to be found with Marinette. There was only a hunger for more time, more moments like these where she felt lighter than ever. Like she wasn’t tied to her home or responsibilities anymore. Their days together always seemed to end so soon, leaving her desperate for the moon and sun to exchange places again so she could start the whole process over. But Marinette hadn’t asked about all that; she wanted to know about Adrien.

Kagami brushed her hair aside with a thumb, hiding her expression from Marinette. “He’s a good friend. I��m grateful to have him around.”

“Just a friend? Did…something happen between you guys?”

“No, we’re fine. But you may have the wrong idea of what we are to each other.”

“Oh, um, I see. That’s good. I’m happy you two are friends then.”

Kagami could have similarly asked Marinette how she and Adrien were doing. She’d like her two closest friends to also have a good friendship with one another, after all. But what would such a question open up? Would she start to gush about him? Would she have the same sort of answer about them just being friends? As much as she liked to call her feelings mixed up at the moment, she couldn’t deny that the idea of Marinette still being head over heels for Adrien made her feel like a heavy weight was being dropped on her chest.

No, she wouldn’t ask about their relationship. Good or bad, she didn’t want to face whatever answer was given to her. Staying silent was the easier option.

“Well, guess we should head back now,” Marinette said, shooting to her feet. “I’ll finish your dress and get out of your hair.”

The walk back to the bakery was a silent one with both girls drowning in the awkwardness of the previous conversation. Kagami felt the frustration bubbling up inside her like magma. She had never been one to hesitate when it came to going after what she wanted, so why was this any different? It probably had something to do why she was having trouble looking Marinette in the eyes lately. While they had been sitting on the bench, all she could do was stare straight ahead at the sights in the park. The cluster of pigeons bouncing along the ground, the repetitive flowing of water out of the central fountain, things she saw every time she came there. It was maddening knowing that those things were all she could focus on even when the sight she wanted to gaze at the most sat just inches to her left.

That was one of the parts she liked best about sitting in Marinette’s room. Watching her work from behind removed all the unease of being face to face. It was an odd feeling, having regressed from where she started to being so flustered nowadays. But that was all a part of evolution, she supposed. Just as her skill got better over years of practice, these feelings she was starting to acknowledge were blooming faster with each interaction. She figured Marinette didn’t know it, but her presence was cultivating them like a flower bed.

“Are you sure I can’t help you?” As someone who was constantly training and always in motion, Kagami hated sitting on her hands and leaving everything to her friend.

Marinette spun around in her chair with a smile on her face. “Oh, don’t even worry about it. It’s just a simple little repair, that’s all. Hopefully I can handle this for you and make up for being such a poor friend.”

Kagami stiffened at those words. Where had that come from? How could Marinette even entertain the idea that she was a bad friend?

“What would you have to make up for?”

“I guess…I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Why would you think that?”

“It just seems like all I do is mess things up for you when I’m around. I called your first match with Adrien incorrectly, I was a nuisance at the Ladybug movie premiere, and I still feel bad about how I acted on Friendship Day. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t like my company.”

“Well you’re wrong!” Kagami found herself standing and shouting, her face flushed. “I like you very much, Marinette.” Kagami realized her sudden outburst and cleared her throat, her posture shrinking a bit. “I just mean that I consider us very close. So you don’t need to have any worry.”

Marinette rubbed the back of her neck with a nervous smile. “That, um, makes me feel a lot better actually. Thank you, Kagami.”

Kagami nodded as Marinette rotated back to her desk. She quickly sat back down on the bed, grateful that Marinette’s back was turned to her. It gave her a chance to fan her face despite the fact that the burning she was feeling was definitely internal. If her legs weren’t wrapped around themselves right now, she’d have started kicking herself for blurting out her feelings like that. All that careful planning just for her to throw a fit anyway. How annoying.

“And there we go! All done now.” Marinette rolled away from her desk with the finished product in hand.

Kagami let out a thin breath of relief holding the mended kimono. She ran her thumb down the formerly torn side, the new stitching giving her the comfort she needed. It looked as good as new, and not even her mother would be able to tell the difference. She had gotten exactly what she wanted.

And yet – looking at the door out of Marinette’s room made her heart sink.

Walking out meant ending another fun day just to sit in a stuffy room with people she barely knew. She’d bow, show a smile, then move onto the next person for who knows how many hours. She hated the idea of having to make such a good impression with these strangers. For all she knew, they would forget her name and face the second the meeting ended. But her mother had demanded her attendance, so her frustrations didn’t amount to much. She simply returned the smile her friend gave her.

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Marinette.”

“Oh! Well, it was nothing, really. Anyone could’ve done it, no big deal.”

“That’s not true. You’re very skilled, you know. And I…wouldn’t have left it up to just anyone either.”

There may very well have been other ways for Kagami to save herself today, but having Marinette come to her aid was certainly a preferred turn of events. Even so, she felt a familiar worry biting at her heels just thinking of all she’d done in the past hours. It wasn’t like she regretted her choices for the day, but that didn’t stop her from fearing the repercussions of not meeting her mother’s demands. How long would it take to make up for the impromptu adventure? Was there enough time to get home and do everything she still had to do? Or would she have to go unprepared to meet her mother? No, that would be just as bad as not showing up at all. If she showed even a hint of not taking her mother’s orders seriously, she would regret it for a long while. But if she kept thinking like this, all that worry would devour her.

It was Marinette’s soft voice in her ear that snapped her out of the spiral.

“Is something the matter, Kagami?”

“I don’t have much time before mother’s meeting starts. I’m not sure I can get home and make myself presentable before I have to meet her at the Métro.”

“Oh, is that all? You’ll just have to get ready here then! I’ll even help you.”

Before Kagami could protest, Marinette was already pushing her behind the large changing screen in her room. The dynamic between them was growing more confusing by the hour. Kagami hadn’t had a friend like this before, which made gauging the exact nature of their relationship that much harder. Was this just the normal amount of kindness you showed to a friend? Or was Marinette going above and beyond specifically for her? And if she was, what was making her do that?

There was nothing really suggesting that Marinette felt all that strongly about her, especially after the talk they just had. If she thought Kagami didn’t like her, then she surely wasn’t harboring any deep feelings within, right? But there was always the possibility that she was, and Kagami just didn’t know. Kagami hated not knowing for sure.

Luckily her overthinking had let her get ready without too much conscious effort. The very idea of having to prepare herself with Marinette so close was not something she wanted to entertain. Her opinion would be the only one tonight with any real effect on her, so it was best to avoid that altogether. Kagami did her best to shoo away the tinges of red dotting her cheeks before stepping out.

Marinette’s eyes seemed brighter than before as she stood up to take in all of her friend’s new look. “Wow, Kagami, you look beautiful in that kimono.”

And just like that, the red was back in full force. A soft “thank you” was all she could get out past pinched lips.

“Oh, it looks like your makeup smudged a little. Hold still, I’ll fix it.”

Marinette reached up and cupped the sides of Kagami’s face, moving in to touch up her eyeliner. Kagami could feel the warmth of slow breaths brushing across her nose with Marinette so close. She thought that if Marinette held her any longer, she would melt under all the heat.

Then again, even if that happened, Marinette’s arms would be waiting for her. Suddenly melting didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Unfortunately for her, Marinette’s quick handiwork extended to her makeup skills, her fingernails grazing Kagami’s cheeks as she pulled away.

“Perfect! You’re all set, Kagami.”

“T–Thank you. I apologize for being such a handful.”

“Not even. You turned a slow day into a great time! I’m only sad it couldn’t last a little longer. Come on, I’ll walk you to the station.”

Kagami’s eyes were restless as she walked to the Métro, seeking out an excuse to spend more time with Marinette as if one would magically appear in front of her. She walked with her bag pulled close, desperate to feel the buzzing of a call that would tell her of canceled plans. No such luck.

Why was Paris never chaotic when she needed it to be? She didn’t necessarily want an akuma attack to happen, that was too extreme. Although getting to see Ladybug was always a treat. No, she just needed the city’s usual brand of irregularity to pop in like it always did. But today there were no random traffic jams, no city-wide celebrations to slow things down. There was nothing to stop them from walking down the station stairs and coming face to face with the metal train doors she had been dreading. The doors opened with a hiss, adding on to the already growing discomfort inside of her.

Kagami started to speak but held her tongue. Nothing she said would change things anyway. She started towards the train, but a shout from behind stopped her mid-step.

“Kagami, wait!”

There they were. The two words Kagami had been mentally begging to hear the entire way to the station. She spun around on her heels, staring right at Marinette. She held her breath unsure of what would be said next.

“Yes?”

“Um, I just wanted you to know that I had fun today. And that you shouldn’t feel bad about having to leave because I’ll be here when you get back. So, hang in there, okay? I already can’t wait to see you again!”

It wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted to hear, but anything coming from a face that beamed so brightly was enough to make her happy. At least for a little while.

“I feel the same. See you soon, Marinette.”

Kagami put a hand up as she backed onto the train. Marinette returned the gesture with the motion of an actual wave. She soon disappeared in the swarm of people rushing their way onto the train. There was nothing Kagami wanted more than to push past everyone else and latch onto her friend again, but knowing the consequences of that decision kept her motionless. The harsh truth she had been fighting against for so long swallowed her whole as the train doors closed.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t about what she wanted.

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Marinette walked home with less of a spring in her step than usual. She’d had a good day all things considered, but her feet felt a bit heavier after saying goodbye to her friend and beginning the walk back. She looked down at her purse as she felt it open from the inside, revealing Tikki, her mouth in a pout.

“Kagami didn’t look very happy when she left, did she?” Tikki asked.

Marinette sighed and lightly tapped her kwami on the head with a finger. “No, she didn’t. I hope it wasn’t because I did a bad job fixing her dress.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t it. It looked really pretty when you were done.”

“Yeah, she did. Er, it did, I mean. The dress. A–Anyway, it might have something to do about being around her mom and all those strangers.”

“Will it really be that bad for her?”

“I can’t say for sure. I know things are tense between her and her mom, but even today she seemed a little off. I hope things aren’t actually getting worse between them.” Marinette suddenly stopped in her tracks with a gasp. “Oh no, Tikki…you don’t think she could be akumatized again, do you?”

“I don’t think so. From what I heard and saw today, she didn’t seem quite that upset. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

“Still, I can’t help but worry. Even if she doesn’t lose her cool, what about her mom? If she notices my work on the dress, she could flip out on Kagami and then be the perfect target for an akuma! Oh, maybe I should transform and follow the train just in case.”

“Relax, Marinette. It sounded like Kagami and her mother are going somewhere pretty far away, so I doubt Hawkmoth would even notice their emotions all the way out there.”

“I…guess you’re right.”

Marinette let out a long breath and started walking once more. She was grateful to have someone like Tikki by her side to keep her in check. Still, her worry wouldn’t just disappear anytime soon. Hopefully the event went quickly so she could call and check on Kagami. Then she’d be able to sleep easy at least.

“You sure were in a hurry to be by Kagami’s side again,” Tikki said. “Maybe someone wants to take advantage of the fact that Ladybug doesn’t get all tongue tied around her.”

“Hey, I did just fine today as myself, didn’t I?”

Tikki giggled. “Sure, if you don’t count calling her cute to her face.”

“Oh, why did you have to remind me of that, Tikki?”

That had been the one part of the day where she felt strange around Kagami. Usually their time together resulted in bubbly, bouncy feelings that had her grinning from ear to ear. Today was no different, except for that one brief moment in the park. Stating that Kagami was cute wasn’t anything new to Marinette, but it was the reaction the comment caused that had thrown her off balance. Kagami’s normally pale face gained a stripe of red right through the middle, rising along her nose and ending on the curves of her cheeks. It hadn’t just been cute; it was adorable.

Marinette was used to verbally jumping ship on most things she said, especially when she was nervous. But today’s slip-up felt a little different. She had barely been able to clarify her comment over the sound of her heart thumping in her ears. It was the same kind of feeling she used to get when talking to Adrien.

Marinette smacked her cheeks lightly. What was happening to her? Things had gone from weird to manageable to good and now back to weird. Well, not as weird as when she and Kagami first met, but still odd enough to notice. In the past few weeks, she had focused on building a more platonic relationship with Adrien, and that was going surprisingly well. She had also tried the same strategy with Luka, which was proving to be just as effective considering his easygoing attitude towards most things. It was definitely a difficult switch to make mentally, considering how strongly she cared for them both, but something inside had made her stop short in her pursuit. That same instinct was clueless when it came to how she saw Kagami.

And on the topic of Kagami, if she wasn’t interested in Adrien anymore, what had changed? Was it the same thing that she felt changing in herself? It was beginning to feel like the more she pulled back from Adrien and Luka, the more she found herself drawn to Kagami. Not just in a way that craved quality girl time, but in a way that made the rest of the world fuzzy when they were together. She didn’t feel this way around Alya, her best friend, or even any of the other girls like Rose or Juleka or Alix or Mylène.

It was all that confusion which really begged the question; what exactly was it that she wanted?

“Marinette!”

Marinette whipped around at the sound of her name being shouted into the night. Standing under a streetlight several yards away was Kagami, wide-eyed and out of breath. Her white kimono caught the light from overhead, making it look like she was glowing.

Marinette closed Tikki back in her purse and ran over to where her friend stood. “Kagami? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at that gathering?”

“I couldn’t go.”

“What? Why not?”

Kagami hung her head low, inching towards Marinette with steps so small her feet might as well have been sliding across the pavement. “Because…I want to be here with you.”

“To be here with me? But why – ”

“I couldn’t leave because I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Marinette bit her lower lip, stopping herself from making some awkward noise in response to Kagami’s confession, but also to prove she wasn’t dreaming the scene in front of her. The words between the two of them were ones she had dreamt of hearing for a long time, but not from the person standing in front of her. She had expected these words to come gently and sweep her off her feet, but instead they threated to knock her over where she stood. Kagami wanted her. She didn’t want anyone else but her. Just the echo of the words in Marinette’s mind were enough to make her legs shake.

“Thinking of you…spending time with you…it makes me so crazy I can’t stand it!” Kagami’s fingers gripped her chest so tightly it looked like she might tear her own heart out with brute strength. “I’m tired of pushing all of that down, but…I don’t know where to go from here.”

Marinette’s hand seemed to move on its own, wrapping her fingers around Kagami’s trembling ones. The surge of warmth that followed helped prove this was real. Kagami finally looked up, meeting a gaze as watery as her own.

“Well…we can figure it out together.”

Marinette lowered Kagami’s hand and held her palm, sliding closer to touch shoulders with her. Her head didn’t feel so cluttered with Kagami beside her now. It was all starting to make sense. She almost had to stop herself from giggling just thinking about how earnestly Kagami had said all of those things to her. At the very least, she knew that she would get an earful about this from Tikki later on. But this new development was worth a little embarrassment.

“So, what are you going to tell your mom?” Marinette asked.

“Well, unfortunately there was an akuma attack just before I could leave the city,” Kagami said with a shrug. “I had no choice but to stay here where it was safe.”

“Oh, of course,” Marinette said, her hand covering her mouth dramatically. “And where would a safer place be than my family’s bakery? Staying with us was the only option really.”

The giggles came fast to both girls as they walked with linked arms down the street. There was a lot to figure out, and their joint decision tonight would surely lead to some consequences down the road, but for tonight they could forget about all that. The telltale fuzziness was coming back to Marinette with Kagami so close, blocking everything else out except for the stunning girl in front of her. Taking her in all dressed up was almost enough to knock her off her feet. Fortunately, Kagami was hanging onto her so tightly that she didn’t have to worry about that. Walking beside her now brought a very different rhythm than Marinette was used to, but it was one that she was wanted to embrace more than anything.

[volexis]

⤷ december 14 ▸ don’t leaf me hanging ft. bakugou

summary: holiday parties aren’t the best way to spend a pleasant, snowy evening, especially when you bump into your frenemy practically everywhere you go. your evening takes a turn for the worse when you’re stuck together beneath the most odious sprig of the season: mistletoe. how will you get out of this one?

warnings: slight hint of college au, some cursing, mentions of drinking, unwanted advances

wc: 1.9k

a/n: this was horrible but terribly gratifying to write at the same time,,, low key my first time writing for both bakugou and bnha and high key v nervous about posting this since its like a billion years late but i guess its a christmas present?

note: find the rest of the advent calendar here!

Idle chatter rings in your ears as you cradle a mug of now cooled hot chocolate. The room was pleasantly warm, but the onset of partygoers stifled you. Everything was swelteringly suffocating and you gave Mina a sheepish smile. “I’m gonna go refill my drink, I’ll be right back.”

“(Y/N), you haven’t even touched—”

You paid her no heed and all but bolted towards the kitchen. Immediately the atmosphere quieted, the living room’s noise dulling to an easily ignored thrum. You leaned against the marbled counter, fingers skimming the slight pores of the mineral. 

“What’re you doing here?” You heard a growl from the other side of the table, the tenacity of its timbre almost making you drop your cup. You spun to meet scarlet eyes that practically burned into you. Immediately, a scowl pulled at your lips. Of course, it was none other than the resident pain in your ass, nuisance extraordinaire: Bakugou Katsuki. 

He had it in for you the day you’d met, that much you knew. It was as if he took one look at you and dismissed you as what he generously liked to call ‘an extra’. As if he couldn’t be bothered to dignify you with his presence, let alone a conversation. Normally, you’d brush it off but something about it all irked you to no end. You made it your mission to be around him as much as possible, learn what makes him tick as well as what made him hate you so. Initially, he reacted as predicted. He practically leveled the building that first day in his booming voice and irate fury, to which you responded with nothing but a laugh. As enigmatic as he may seem, Bakugou was surprisingly predictable. 

The weeks passed by and you’d come to notice his yelling had toned down, not significant enough to be perceptible by the rest, but his words no longer held the same sharp edge as before though his aggressivity was as boisterous as ever. Soon enough you began to feel more at ease in his presence, even going as far as looking forward to the next time you’d see him at your lectures, in the halls, out at lunch. Catching yourself scanning the area for his presence every time you’d enter a room. In short, you had fallen for him. Hard.

Together you fell into a steady rhythm. He allowed you to remain in his vicinity unscathed and you didn’t have to tiptoe around his easily detonated temper. 

You quickly learned his moods were more fluctuant than you ever could’ve guessed. The days leading to the small holiday party you found yourself in were riddled with the same explosive disposition from when you’d first met. Every stinging barb and taunt wounded you a little more than you’d like to admit. And then, radio silence. You no longer studied together, he no longer met your eyes when you had made a particularly interesting comment. Back to the very beginning when he didn’t even know you existed. You didn’t know what hurt more. 

You forced yourself to take a deep breath and smooth your words into a clipped, polite speech.

“I’m in the kitchen, same as you. Do you have a problem with that?”

The blonde balked, opening his mouth to spew a retort, when Mina stumbled into the kitchen, bright smiles and full of boundless cheer. “(Y/N) since you’re in here would you mind getting me and—” 

Her words died on her lips, tripping over each other as he planted her hands on your shoulders and tugged you away from the blonde, an uneasy grin on her face. “We’ll be going now.”

You gave him what you hoped looked like a sincere smile; one that hid the painfully evident panic that shot through your limbs. You knew well enough not to provoke him nor did you have the energy to do so. 

Mina stopped pulling once you were safely outside in the hallway. Silence followed as her hands slipped from their perch on your shoulders to your own, shaking them lightly to force you to look at her.

“What was that?” The incredulity that filled her words matched her bug-eyed expression, swerving as she alternated from staring at you and the room you’d just exited. 

“Actually, I don’t know.” You were equally as shocked and stumped as the poor girl. 

“Well, in any case, I don’t think it’s worth ruining Kirishima’s party over whatever it is that’s been going on between you two lately. Just in case, it’ll be safer to avoid him for the rest of the evening, yeah?”

You nodded numbly and allowed her to take you back to the living room now outfitted with a hastily put together dance floor. Mina was right, anyhow. From just one quick look towards the rest of the room, you could tell everyone was enjoying their evening, basking in the warmth coming from the central heating as well as the close proximity. There’s no need to need to spoil the festivities with a silly quarrel you could fix any other day. However, there was one slight issue with your plan. Out of the corner of your eye, you’d catch a glimpse of spiky blonde hair. No matter where you’d go, he’d still be there, somewhere. Every move you made seemed to draw him closer. With a huff, you maneuvered around the throng of dancers to make your way back to the kitchen. There’s still a chance he’d follow you, but at least you’d be further away from the vigilant stares of the crowd. 

As you thought, Bakugou was already leaning against the marbled counter once you stepped in. 

“Mind telling me why you’re avoiding me?”

Before you could answer him, someone else stumbled into the kitchen seemingly towards you, all wobbling steps and inebriated smiles. His drink sloshed in the dented plastic cup he held onto so tightly, rivulets of it spilling down the side and splashing onto his clothes. “You’re really pretty, would you give me your number?”

You scoffed at his sudden forwardness, a scowl pulling at your lips once you had fully registered his words. “Why should I?”

The man, startled at your response, was silent for a beat. Seemingly regaining his composure, he pressed closer into you, backing you further into the counter. “Well,” he leaned towards your ear as if his next words were to be shared only with you. “If you do give me your number, maybe I can call you up and I could show you a good time. Whaddaya say, pretty thing?”

Words failed to form, tripping over each other as you stumbled away from him, away from whatever he thought he was doing. You bumped into something solid as you backtracked, turning around to see that it had been the fiery blonde himself. 

“That’s not happening, asshole, we’ll be going now.” absolute venom dripped from his words as he smiled cruelly, his lips contorting into something akin to a sneer as he takes your hand in his, tugging you away. 

Despite the constant abrasiveness in his everyday mannerisms,  you couldn’t help but marvel at the gentle manner he used to intertwine his fingers with yours. He wasn’t rough in pulling you from the kitchen, he didn’t crush your hand in his grasp or practically pull your arm out of its socket. He was almost sweet, coaxing you away from the situation. 

He only stopped once you were a safe distance away, turned in the direction you’d come from, to presumably make sure the offender hadn’t followed. You’d been too preoccupied with the softness of his touch to notice him watching the kitchen doorway and then the rest of the crowd once he noticed the other student sift in, glaring sharply every time their eyes met. Suffice to say, you were probably not going to hear from him in a long time. 

“Bakugou?” He let out a noise of acknowledgment, eyes still trained on something across the room. 

“You can let go of my hand now.” 

He blinked owlishly, looking down at your fingers as if he now just realized what he had been doing. “You never answered my question.”

“And you haven’t let go of my hand.”

His next words were drowned out by tumultuous cheers and wild shouts of the other students. They’d formed a crowd behind the two of you. Why?

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” You looked to Bakugou in confusion, who responded by pointing up to the top of the doorway to spot a small tangle of mistletoe lies poorly taped to the wood. 

Realization dawned on you and frustration ebbed into your rapidly spiraling thoughts. Of all people to be stuck under that odious herb, it just had to be the one who sent your poor heart into overdrive every time you’d catch one of the softer, more peaceful looks he’d sport around you. Part of you wanted to grab him and plant your lips on his, that part of you had longed for such an opportunity for a while now, longed for him. The other part of you was caught up in trying to process Bakugou’s radical change in behavior. From one minute to the next he had gone from his usual brutally harsh demeanor to holding your hand so tenderly as if he was scared to hurt you.

“We don’t really have to do this if you don’t want to,” You were unsure of what you wanted, what you thought of him. He said nothing as he gently placed his hands on your cheeks, drawing closer till his lips met yours. The world drowned out around you. Electricity surged through your every nerve and you shivered as you felt him nip at your bottom lip. You drown in the taste of spiced cinnamon and his tongue swiping along the roof of your mouth. It’s dizzying and you almost couldn’t believe it had happened once he pulls away. 

Once you look into his eyes you’re suddenly aware of the crowd’s roar behind you. The full weight of the past few moments settle in and you don’t know if you want to slap him or kiss him again. 

“You never answered my question, but I have been treating you like shit all week. You don’t deserve it. You really don’t,” he repeated, tapering off as he fumbled for the right words to say.

“I got scared of my feelings, of what they meant, and I pushed you away because of it.”

“That’s putting it lightly, Bakugou,” You let the ghost of a smile pull at your lips. After all, that’s probably the closest he’d get to an apology.

“Dumbass, don’t interrupt me while I’m trying to tell you that I like you—” His cheeks burned once he realized what he’d said. You mirrored his reaction, eyes widening at his words.

“You like me?” Your smile quirked into a full grin as you pulled him back towards you in another kiss. Immediately his hands shot to your waist, pressing you closer to him as you lost yourself in the way his lips melded against yours. He’s everywhere, up the curve of your spine and down your arms, kissing you with a fervent urgency you’d never known before. The feeling of melting so deliciously against him made your nerves sing. A sudden giddiness spun through you as you pulled away and mirrored Bakugou’s radiant smile. 

“Luckily, I just so happen to like you too.”

taglist: @tsumuseum @amoroushero @mrslordexplosionmurder @ssat0ris​ @osamusriceballs @seraphgabrielle​ @1642lux

strike through means I wasn’t able to tag you

additional note: event taglist is open! send an ask if you’d like to be added <3

[strawbeebo]

~♡ Winter Warmth ♡~

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 2.1K

Genre: Fluff

“You didn’t bring a scarf. Or a hat. Or anything.”

Your current ‘mission’ partner’s characteristically irritated tone broke you out of your current daze as you shifted your eyes towards him as the two of you walked side by side, close enough that it was clear the two of you were at least friends, but not so close that things were…weird.

“Oh, no..” You hummed, a puff of steam escaping with your words and just as soon evaporating into the cold winter air. “To be honest I didn’t think it would be this cold. Oh- but it’s not that bad, no worries.”

He looked at you for a second before shrugging and facing forward once again, the previous silence between the two of you settling back in as your eyes drifted back to your right where rows and rows of shop windows twinkled with Christmas lights and other inviting decorations.

See, the so called ‘mission’ the two of you had been sent on wasn’t really a mission at all, it was more like an errand to satisfy everyone back at school’s ‘urgent’ need for a variety of coffees, hot chocolate’s, and tea lattes, which didn’t sound like much, however your oh so gracious sensei insisted you go to this very specific cafe that was about a half an hour walk away instead of the one that was barely a ten minute walk away. Fushiguro seemed particularly annoyed with that, but then again, when wasn’t he annoyed by one thing or another.

The only thing was that you assumed he was bothered because Gojō had made yet another needlessly difficult request of him, however while he was annoyed with Gojō , that wasn’t exactly the reason why. The reason he was particularly peeved was because his teacher said the two of you just haaad to go together. “It’s safer that way.” , he said “Treat it like a mission!”, he said.

Bullshit.

Gojō was testing him on something even he didn’t want to think about, let alone admit to. Fushiguro told him one thing, ONE THING about you, just an off handed comment on how much you had improved using your cursed technique in such a short amount of time, and that’s all it took for Gojō to give him that fucking look. At least, Fushiguro thought it was only one thing, but the more Gojō started making little comments about the two of them, about how he thinks they’d be sooo cute together, he realized that maybe he had been unconsciously talking about you more than he thought. That was true too, but he wasn’t one for much talk and the little that he did say wasn’t enough to tip Gojō or anyone else off about his apparent interest in you. As it turns out, the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’ is true, and that’s especially so for someone as observant as Gojō is.

He saw all the little things that most people probably didn’t have a second thought about, but he had known Megumi for a long time now so to him, his actions were clear as day. The little touches on your shoulder to gently move you out of the way, the way he would tend to gravitate towards you whenever all of you first years were on missions together, how distracted he’d be if you had a bit of a hard time fighting off a curse. Gojō could go on and on about the tiny ways Megumi treated you better, with more care, than anyone else, but he chose not to pester him too aggressively. He knew if he did that, Megumi would shut him down just as aggressively and dig deeper into the denial about his feelings for you. So instead, Gojō pushed him in little ways, like teaming you two together for training practices and in this case, sending you out together to get drinks.

Megumi knew that of course, that Gojō was messing with him, but man was it hard to say no when your face lit up and you exclaimed that you could actually go for a hot chocolate. So now here you were, walking side by side in silence that was currently doing nothing but make him overthink. Should he say something? Would that be weird? Or were you off put by the fact that he wasn’t saying anything? All the while he had that usual grumpy look on his face that was really just one of concentration, but you didn’t take it to heart regardless. You had known him long enough now to know that even when he did look upset, he kind of just had a resting grumpy face and it didn’t necessarily mean anything. Still, you would admit that you were feeling a bit awkward.

You liked Fushiguro, maybe a tad bit more than what you admitted to your other friends, but while the two of you were friendly and worked just fine together, you had never really spent time alone with one another outside of school, and as you walked through the slightly crowded sidewalks you realized you didn’t really know how he felt about you. Sure you were associates and classmates, but did he see you in that way? Did he only tolerate you? Or maybe he was just indifferent, not thinking of you as much more or much less than someone he worked along side. Even though you didn’t have any answers to said questions, you couldn’t say you were nervous to be out with him. In fact it was kind of nice, even if you weren’t talking much, and you were okay with settling and just internally gushing about it to yourself. So you kept to yourself with a slight smile on your face, stopping for a second here or there when something in one of the shop windows caught your eye or to press your cold hands to your mouth and blow warm air onto them.

You had said you were fine, but the temperature seemed to keep dropping, and when you felt a small damp prickle of iciness on your nose you realized why. That one snowflake slowly turned to many as snow began to fall steadily from the sky, catching on your hair and jacket but melting as soon as it came in contact with your cheeks.

“Pfft, no wonder it’s gotten so cold. I seriously thought we weren’t going to get any snow until later on in the season, right?” You asked, turning to him with a laugh as you rubbed your arms as if that would do much to help through your coat.

“Guess not.”, he said with another shrug. “Doesn’t look like it’ll stick though, we should be fine.”

He peered out of the corner of his eye at you, watching as you shoved your hands into your pockets and gave him a nod before looking up as you walked to watch the snow fall in a childlike awe. Something ticked in him, another one of those little irritating itches that he would get whenever you would do something like that. Something so simple, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. That, and the irrational part of him that was currently screaming at him to do something stupid, an internal voice that was getting louder and louder with every fall of a snowflake and shiver of your shoulders until finally he just had to give in.

He let out an annoyed huff, not at you but at the fact that he felt so stupid and absurdly flustered as he unwrapped his scarf and took his gloves off, temporarily shoving them into one pocket as he stopped to lean over and wrap his scarf snuggly around your neck instead. You jumped a little in surprise as you tore your eyes from the sky and gave him a quizzical look, but before you could say anything a pair of gloves that were a little too big for you were shoved into your hands as well.

“Oh, thank you but I’m really-“

“It’s fine.” He cut you off, but not in a mean way. You noticed the hint of pink on his cheeks, but surely that was due to the cold, right? He sighed again in an attempt to make himself feel a little less tense as he continued on in a more relaxed tone. “Seriously, I was getting too warm anyways.”

Now you really couldn’t help but smile as you gave him a small nod before slipping on both gloves. They were too big just like you thought, but warm, and the fuzziness bristling in your stomach seemed to help warm you up as well. You absent mindedly tugged his scarf a little closer around you as the the two of you began to walk again, and your own cheeks began to heat up a bit as you inhaled his scent. Though you couldn’t really pinpoint what it was, it was like a little not-so-gentle reminder that he really did just give you his scarf and gloves to wear. You tried not to let it get to you, he was just being nice and he said he was too warm anyways, but you still had to bite your inner cheek to keep yourself from smiling too wildly and risk him thinking you’re a total creep.

“Thanks Megumi, I appreciate it.”

Oh god no.

He thought he had steeled himself but that caused him to stop in his tracks, only for a moment or two, before his body went into self preservation mode and moved on its own, but the way his heart skipped a beat in response to something as dumb as you calling him by his first name for the first time was everything but calm and collected. Still, as much as he tried to keep even an ounce of what he was really feeling from showing on his features, it only took that little halt in his step for you to realize what you just said.

“Oh, shit- I’m sorry. That’s probably kind of weird for me to call you.”

“It’s fine.” He repeated the same words he had said only a few minutes ago, only this time he didn’t sound nearly as confident. Whatever was going on in his chest was not, in fact, fine, but what was he supposed to say? ‘You treating me like I’m a close friend seriously fucks with my doubts of having a thing for you’? For heaven’s sake he could take out a literal murderous demon in the blink of an eye but god forbid he try to keep his normally cool composure in front of who he now had to admit was his crush.

“If it really isn’t fine you don’t have to act like it is.” You laughed out awkwardly, still having trouble trying to read his features.

He hated seeing that bit of doubt and worry in your eyes, enough so that he shoved what he was feeling down even if it was just long enough for him to give some reassurance that you referring to him so casually was actually more than just ‘fine’.

“I’m not ‘acting’. If it really bothered me I would say something about it. Trust me, I’ve gotten good at telling people off…” He grumbled, his mood slightly souring at the mere thought of what Gojō would do if he could see him now, with color tinting his cheeks and his brain scrambling for the right words to say which, judging by the short laugh you gave that was simply music to his ears, he had successfully done.

“True, true. Guess I’ll just have to stay on your good side then, yeah? Dunno if I could take it if you were actually mad at me.”

He scoffed and muttered in response as he trudged ahead of you.

“As if you would ever be on my bad side…”

“Hm?”

“I said ‘can we hurry up before it gets worse outside’. If we take much longer Gojō is going to start blowing up my phone.”

You laughed and then smiled in a way that you could only imagine looked incredibly goofy as you stared at his back while he continued walking ahead of you, maybe just a tiny bit giddy that he was ok with you being a little more personal and less formal with him. Surely that meant the two of you were friends, right? Or maybe he could think of you as something more some day…

“Are you coming with?”

“Yeah, yeah!” You exclaimed, shaking your head and leaving those thoughts for another time in order to allow yourself to enjoy this moment as it was, warmed in the face of the winter chill by a cozy set of winter clothes and a fuzzy feeling in your heart.

[patchofsunlight]

Stand You | Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Bakugou insists he can’t stand stupid Y/N, even while he changes his entire routine to fit her in it.

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: if this doesn’t show up on tags for the fifth time i will simply give up on it, cursing, bakugou is a lil bitch but he’s also a softie, there’s a nosebleed at one point but nothing concerning tbh, aizawa and recovery girl find young love amusing, shouto is baby

Y/N wasn’t sure of exactly when she started thinking of Bakugou Katsuki as a friend. Maybe it had been during their first year, after the first time he allowed her to join his study group alongside Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Mina; or maybe it had been a bit later, when she hugged him tight in the middle of a crowd, almost as if she could squeeze the pain being kidnapped by the League of Villains had brought him, and he let her — while All Might fought his last battle and all of Japan feared for its future, Bakugou let her hold him.

She was deeply aware of the fact he tolerated her at best, as he made that abundantly clear every chance he got. He didn’t exactly hate her presence, but she was on thin fucking ice, and, even though Y/N knew this, she still managed to somehow develop a crush on the angry ash blond, like the stupid idiot she was.

It was ridiculous, to be honest, especially considering how there was no way he would ever feel the same. She would go as far as saying he didn’t even know her name — “Stupid,” he called her (how enchanting!) —, so, yeah, there was absolutely no possibility of her feelings being reciprocated in any way, and the dumb hug they shared was nothing but a coincidence. He was a bit shaken, a bit shocked, and those few warm minutes didn’t really mean anything.

Y/N didn’t mind. She was okay being Bakugou’s friend, satisfied with study group meetings and the occasional sparring. That way, at least, she could be sort of close to him, and that was pretty much enough.

Katsuki wasn’t sure of exactly when he had stopped thinking of Y/N L/N as another stupid extra. Maybe it had been when he found himself walking a little slower while she accompanied him towards class, or maybe it had been a bit earlier, when she hugged him tight in the middle of a crowd, almost as if she could squeeze the pain being kidnapped by the League of Villains had brought him, and he let her — while All Might fought his last battle and all of Japan feared for its future, Bakugou let her hold him.

He didn’t particularly like her. She talked too much, too fast, too loud; she insisted on walking him to and from the dorms everyday; and she was weak, stupid, useless. To be completely fair, Bakugou would say he despised her.

And yet, he found himself around her way more often than necessary.

“Hey, Bakugou, wait up! Let’s walk together!”

He groaned loudly at the sound of her voice, having been hopelessly hoping she wouldn’t be able to catch up. 

“Fuck, no. Get out of my way, Stupid!”

He slowed down nonetheless, soon walking by her side. Her smile was bright and excited as she kept on blabbering about something Kirishima had done when they were paired up on training that day.

He couldn’t fucking stand her.

“— and then he threw me off the training mat so easily! Who taught him how to do that? I wanna do that!”

“I don’t give a fuck, Stupid.”

“— but I won the second time we sparred, so I guess we’re even. It was fun.”

Y/N never seemed bothered by his harsh words. In fact, she usually either ignored them altogether, unfaltering and patient, or laughed and added some opinion of her own to his rage. It was maddening — she couldn’t take a hint.

Moments like this were common, almost routine. If Bakugou didn’t know better, he would’ve thought the girl had taken quite a liking to him. It was an obvious conclusion, considering she was always around him in some way or another, trying to spark up friendly conversation and letting him know how her day went.

(It was so, so calming to have her here like this. He would never admit it, but hearing Y/N’s endless rants brought him a sense of security he had never really felt before. She talked too much, that was for sure, yet he didn’t really care. It was okay if it was her.)

He couldn’t fucking stand her.

“Come on, try again. We’ve gone through this already.”

“I can’t, Bakugou. I—I’m sorry.”

The ash blond sighed, running a hand through his hair. The bite to his tone had disappeared after a couple of hours, red gaze intensely attentive to the frustrated tears gathering in the girl’s eyes. Every other student had gone back to their dorms, and the librarian seemed very intent on shooting the duo angry looks as if to tell them to hurry up and leave already, finally allowing their long afternoon shift to end.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. Try again, you’re almost fucking there.”

Katsuki had never been good at positive reinforcement. He was better at screaming and cursing and insulting, and, yes, he had tried that with Y/N a thousand times before, but he could see how hard she was trying. He noticed how disappointed and tired she was, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be anything less than what he recognized as incredibly soft. He was glad they were the only ones in the library — he wouldn’t know how to explain himself if anyone saw him like this, watching this random girl who he refused to call a friend mess up her homework in various different ways, talking quietly to stop her from crying.

“We don’t have all fucking day, Stupid. You can do this, go on.”

Yeah, definitely not good at positive reinforcement.

“Okay,” she inhaled deeply, pencil moving slowly through the paper, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

There was a slight crease between her brows as she worked, and Bakugou felt the sudden urge to rub it away, which he rejected immediately. That was ridiculous! There was no reason for things like this to plague his mind — L/N Y/N was an idiot, and he didn’t deliberately think about her in any way, form, or universe. She wasn’t worthy of his thoughts.

“Is this it?”

His attention immediately returned to the equations and messy notes on her notebook while he looked it over, a surprised glint taking his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s basically it. It could be better, but you got it right.”

“I did?”

“You did. I told you you could do it, Stupid.”

Katsuki choked on his own air when the girl jumped towards his place on the table, hugging him tightly by the neck while spouting a great variety of thank you’s and praise, disrupting the angry librarian. Bakugou could feel his cheeks heat up under the worker’s glare, both with irritation born from their silent attitude and from the weird warmth growing in his chest at Y/N’s attention. 

It was the first time she hugged him since the kidnapping accident, and it felt different. It wasn’t a comfort hug like last time, no — it was almost like she had been so happy she couldn’t stop herself from touching him, and that thought alone was enough to send sirens flaring inside his head. Every single inch where her skin touched his seemed to tingle, a calming sensation flowing through his body.

He instantly decided he hated the feeling, pushing her off harshly but still a tad more carefully than he would’ve if it was anyone else.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, no need to freak out. Let’s just get done with this already and go back to the dorms.”

She smiled widely as she picked her things up, shoving them inside her backpack and patiently waiting for him to do the same. Strangely, the explosion boy couldn’t find it in himself to meet her eyes, avoiding the light blush he feared would coat his features when he saw her staring at him like that, with that pretty — no, not pretty, no, he didn’t think she was pretty in anyway — with that stupid smile on her face.

“I’m glad we can walk back together,” the girl declared cheerfully the moment they left the big and lonely library, strolling through the empty path side by side, the sun nowhere to be seen. “It’s late already.”

“Whatever,” he groaned back, refusing to look at her yet still maintaining a pace he was sure she could keep up with.

He couldn’t fucking stand her.

Bakugou felt hyper-aware of every movement beside him. For a few days now, his heart would pump a bit faster whenever she smiled, and his skin would crawl with what he could only describe as the craving to have her hold him again.

It made him weak, and he wouldn’t have it. Bakugou Katsuki was a lot of things, but he refused to be weak.

Specially because of someone like Stupid.

“What grade did you guys get on last week’s math test?”

They always sat next to each other during lunch. It wouldn’t be that bad if it wasn’t for how her knee touched his ever so softly, her body too close for comfort because of Kaminari’s presence on her other side, pressing onto her enthusiastically each time he spoke. Kirishima had asked her once if she wanted him to exchange places with the electric boy, but she simply laughed it off — Kaminari’s manners were endearing, in a way. For some reason, those words gave Katsuki the urge to break Kaminari’s nose.

“I got an 87,” Y/N declared, delight dripping from her words while she played with the food on her plate.

“Y/N!” Mina’s smile was so big it almost didn’t fit on her face. “That’s almost 30 marks higher than you got on our last test!”

“I know!” Bakugou scowled at her excitement before she turned her head to look at him, a sunny grin directed entirely to him, stealing all the air from his lungs. “Bakugou is an amazing tutor!”

“Damn right I am,” he managed to rasp out, clearing his throat loudly before shoving a bunch of spicy noodles in his mouth. Kirishima and Sero exchanged a look.

He would never admit it, the raw pride that consumed his chest at her happiness. He knew how hard she had worked for that test, and was glad to see it went even better than she expected. 

“Maybe now you could tutor me, Y/N,” Kaminari wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing a laugh to escape the girl’s lips while she turned away from Katsuki to stare at him.

“I would love to, but I’m pretty sure I would make your grades even worse.”

“Hey,” Bakugou barked angrily, fighting off the blush creeping up his ears, “don’t sell yourself short, Stupid. You’re not that much of a dumbass.”

A heavy silence fell down on the group, surprised stares pointed to the ash blond. He could feel his stomach twist in anger at the unwanted attention, yet something about the way her smile widened at his words caused his irritation to decrease exponentially.

“What are you idiots staring at?” he lashed out despite the calm settling inside his heart at the sight of her, rolling his eyes at the bunch of morons he called his friends.

“No, nothing,” Kaminari’s voice was high-pitched in obvious lying that brought out snickers from everyone else on the table but Bakugou himself. “Nothing.”

“It better be nothing, Dunce Face, or I’ll kill you.”

“Of course,” Kirishima bit down on his lip to contain his laughter, “don’t worry about it, Bakubro.”

The day went by slowly and way more often than not Bakugou found himself stealing glances towards where he knew Y/N’s seat was. There was a weird whispering in the back of his head, reminding him of how her arms felt around him when they hugged in the library the week before, reminding him of the warmth that invaded his skin and implanted itself in his brain, reminding him of how bright her smiles were and how nice her laughter sounded.

Oh, there was something wrong. Did she have some sort of secondary quirk guilty of making him feel like this? Never before had he ever given her much thought, even though he had to admit his mind wandered to her sometimes and he did try to somehow be nicer to her, but it wasn’t because he cared for her or anything, right? Of course not! He just thought she wouldn’t be able to take his usual self and he didn’t want to deal with her crying or whatever. It wasn’t because he cared about what she thought of him, hell no! Bakugou didn’t waste his time worrying about others, that wasn’t like him at all.

Bakugou Katsuki didn’t think about L/N Y/N, he didn’t, he wouldn’t.

The ash blond forced his gaze away from her once more, trying to make sense of what should’ve been neat notes instead of the mess of scribbles staring right back at him. He snarled to himself, immediately considering his disorganization as entirely her fault. How dare she play with him like this? How dare she think herself worthy of his time like this?

He couldn’t stand her.

And yet, less than two hours later, there he was, listening to her rant about this one movie she desperately wanted to watch while they walked beside each other after class. It would be so easy for Bakugou to pick up his pace and leave her alone, but his body refused to obey his mind’s wishes, and so he kept himself slow enough for her to stay with him.

He couldn’t fucking stand her.

His whole body was sore, barely able to move his arms after overusing his quirk all evening. Bakugou knew he shouldn’t push himself this hard, but he refused to falter, refused to stay behind and risk being weak again. He needed to get stronger, smarter, and, for better or for worse, that involved long training hours. 

The path back to the dorms was strangely lonely without a certain girl keeping him company — not that Katsuki minded, he obviously didn’t. Some loneliness was very much appreciated after the last couple of weeks, which were filled with study group sessions and stupid walks. 

He sighed heavily when the 2-A dorm finally came into his range of vision, causing his tired figure to relax. He was almost there — he would soon be able to eat something, take a nice shower, and then fall straight into bed. He would soon be able to rest, and that was the only thing in his mind.

The ash blond kicked his shoes away the moment he reached the door, tossing them aside without a second thought. 

He would’ve liked to say he bee-lined to the kitchen.

He didn’t.

“Stupid, what the fuck are you doing?”

Y/N looked up from the common room coffee table, startled by the sudden interruption. She studied him for a second before answering, “I’m just looking over some homework. Why? Did something happen?”

He grunted in distaste, unable to stop himself from sitting down next to her on the couch. Every single one of his muscles felt like it was on fire from overexertion.

“It’s fucking late. Didn’t we study yesterday? Did you even have dinner yet?”

She tensed slightly at his angry questions, returning her stare towards the papers in front of them. “Yeah, but I just thought it’d be good to go over everything once more. I’ll just eat some crackers for dinner, it’s fine,” she shrugged nonchalantly, missing the way his eyebrows furrowed at her words, “where were you anyway?”

Katsuki simply rolled his eyes, arms crossed. “It’s none of your fucking business, Stupid. And you can’t have crackers for dinner, that’s not a proper meal.”

“What are you gonna do about it, Bakugou? Will you cook me dinner?” Her tone was teasing, joking, but he stood up immediately, snatching all the papers and notes from her and walking to the kitchen without a second of hesitation. “Hey, what the fuck!”

“Come with me already, you dumbass,” he snarled angrily, a tint of red covering his cheeks, “what do you want to eat?”

Her voice suddenly went soft, “Bakugou, I was kidding. You don’t need to get me dinner, I can just heat up some ramen or—”

“Shut the fuck up, Stupid. I was already going to cook dinner for myself anyway.”

He wasn’t, actually. He planned on eating leftovers from lunch, but he knew there wouldn’t be enough leftovers for both of them, and it was good to prepare some lunch for the next day, anyway. It wasn’t like he was doing it for her, of course not! It was just… Mutually beneficial. Yeah, it was mutually beneficial, not—not special treatment. He didn’t care about Stupid, he didn’t.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked nervously, face flushed from bashfulness and hands fidgety. Katsuki shook his head, ignoring the twitching pain on his forearms as he stirred the pot.

“Just sit down and wait.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N bit her lower lip with furrowed brows. “You seem tired, I don’t want you to do everything by yourself.”

An angry remark sat on the top of his tongue, but the ash blond hesitated. Well, if she helped with the simpler things this would be done faster, and he could go back to his room and rest earlier. Besides, the idea of cooking and spending time with Y/N in the kitchen caused some type of warmth to take over his chest — a warmth that wasn’t exactly insufferable.

It felt strangely soothing, hearing her hum while slicing vegetables and waiting for the noodles to cook through. It felt even more strangely soothing to sit before her on the kitchen table, staring anxiously while she took the first bite of his food. The worst, however, was the way her smile brightened up the room when she started rambling about how good it tasted and how much of a good cook he was and how he now had to cook for her more often. He disagreed loudly, the tip of his ears burning with embarrassment, saying he didn’t cook for her — he cooked for him, and she just happened to be there too. She cackled, and his heart seemed to burn.

He couldn’t fucking stand her.

Seventeen minutes. Y/N was seventeen minutes late.

Had she forgotten about it? God, she was the one who brought it up in the first place, and now she was the one making him wait. Katsuki felt incredibly stupid sitting in his dorm floor, a bunch of her favorite snacks neatly organized next to the nightstand and pillows on the ground for them to sit on. It was supposed to be a study date or whatever, even though he repeatedly refused to call it that (“it’s not a date, Stupid, it’s just one of our homework sessions like always!”). 

They had been spending a lot of time together between studying at the library, walking to the dorms, and cooking and eating dinner, and Bakugou had to admit he didn’t absolutely hate it. Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was still annoying and stupid and insufferable but—but something about her made him come back every single time, ignoring the knowing looks from his friends and the snickers from his classmates.

Despite his anger, a bit of worry started to blossom inside the boy’s chest. Stupid Y/N (and he hated how affectionate the mean nickname sounded to himself at this point) was rarely late — he had been seeing her after school hours enough to know. The girl was always on time and, when she wasn’t, she made sure to let others know why.

There was no text from her, though, and it made his fingers twitch uncomfortably with the urge to make a phone call and check if everything was alright.

Not that he cared if she was alright or not, because he didn’t. She was just—just some girl who decided to invade his life with no permission whatsoever and then stayed. He didn’t care about her.

And yet— 

“Hello?”

“IcyHot? What are you doing with Y/N’s phone? Where the fuck is she?”

Bakugou couldn’t muster any reason for why Todoroki would’ve been the one to pick up the call instead of her. They weren’t even friends! Yes, they knew each other and he was vaguely aware of the fact the two had sparring sessions every once in a while, but not enough so for Todoroki to feel comfortable using her phone or for Y/N to bail on their study date.

“Oh, Bakugou,” Shouto’s tone was as casual as always, almost as if this was a common occurrence (which it wasn’t), “hey. Y/N is with Recovery Girl right now. She got into a fight, but she is okay, just a few cuts and bruises. I was the one to stop the fight, so Aizawa asked me to wait around while she gets checked up on. Do you want me to tell her anything?”

Bakugou had been out the door when he heard the words “Recovery Girl”, speed walking to the nurse’s office while Todoroki rambled. He could feel his heart picking up its pace. Why would Y/N get into a fight? God, this wasn’t like her, and the prospect of someone purposely picking a fight with her filled him with the most raw type of anger possible.

“What the fuck did she get into a fight for?” he voiced his concerns, and he was pretty sure Todoroki just shrugged.

“These two boys were saying things about—”

“Todoroki? Who are you talking to?”

“Miss L/N, I’m still not done with you—”

Katsuki furrowed his brows at the commotion heard from the other end. He could easily recognize her voice, even though it sounded raspy and tired, but the next bit of conversation was too muffled for him to understand. The future hero could already see Recovery Girl’s office a few meters away, and it made him walk a bit faster.

“Give me the phone, Todoroki.”

“Miss L/N, you are still bleeding—”

The door opened violently. Y/N met Bakugou’s glare and felt a bad shiver go down her spine.

Shit, they were supposed to have that study date today. God, did he come all the way over there just to scold her? 

Heavy silence fell over the small group of people. Aizawa and Recovery Girl exchanged a quick look, the small lady’s arm still extended towards the girl in a failed attempt to grab her and drag her back to the hospital bed, even though she was definitely not as hurt as they made her out to be. Yes, she had a bunch of nasty bruises after throwing hands with two random guys from the year above her, and, yes, her nose hadn’t stopped bleeding yet, but she was mainly okay. Todoroki had gotten there pretty quickly and stopped her from making things worse, so she was fine.

“What the fuck did you do, Stupid?”

Yeah, he definitely went all the way there to scold her.

“Uh. Now, that’s a good question!” She consciously chose to ignore the smirk on Aizawa’s face, pulling her phone from Todoroki’s grip a bit more violently than necessary. “You see, I’m sorry for my tardiness, I know we had plans, we still can—”

“I asked you what the fuck you did, Stupid. I’m waiting for my answer.”

“Miss L/N picked a fight with two third years after hearing them talk about one of her colleagues in public. Thankfully, Mr. Todoroki intervened,” their teacher cut in, crossing his arms and staring as the girl cleaned up a stray drop of blood on her lips with the back of her hand. “She’ll be getting a written warning and will hopefully stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered, frowning when Recovery Girl started fussing over her again, sticking band-aids all over the small cuts on her face. Y/N had refused to accept Recovery Girl’s quirk treatment, aware that she was very busy and that it wasn’t necessary for the school nurse to tire herself out for just a few bruises. She was so intent on glaring at her elders that she didn’t notice the worry swimming in Bakugou’s red gaze.

“Good. Can you two get her back to the dorms?”

“Yes, I—”

“Fuck off, IcyHot, I’m taking her back by myself. Find something to freeze or whatever.”

Katsuki grabbed her by the arm, dragging her out of Recovery Girl’s office without a second’s worth of hesitation. He wouldn’t even look at her, fuming the whole way to the dorms. Still, he walked slow enough for her to not struggle to keep up.

“Are you mad?”

He snickered humorlessly, “of course I am, Stupid. How the fuck did you get yourself into this? And you fucking left me waiting, too, you idiot.”

Usually, Y/N didn’t care about his harsh words. Y/N didn’t mind his angry remarks. This time, however, she felt tired, and she had just gotten into a fight because of him, so she refused to take it. She had tried so hard to get close to him, to make him like her. The girl could feel tears gathering in her eyes from fury and sadness — how stupid was she to actually believe he would ever like her, be it as a friend or more? She should’ve known better. Dinner and studying and walking together meant nothing to him. She was just a bother, and she should’ve noticed earlier.

Y/N halted, pulling her arm away from his hand with rage and deception coating her every feature, “shut the fuck up, Bakugou. I don’t have to give you any explanations, you piece of shit. If you’re so pissed about it, why don’t you just leave me alone, huh? I’m done keeping up with your bullshit. I always try to be a good friend to you and you just keep doing this! You keep pushing me away and treating me like an idiot, and I deserve more than that!”

The explosion boy had a crease on his forehead, a cold feeling going through his body. The angry look in her eyes was something he didn’t recognize, and suddenly she felt so unreachable, so far away. He quickly decided he hated it.

Why did he hate it, though? They had nothing to do with each other. They were barely friends. Wasn’t this what he wanted? He couldn’t fucking stand her, he didn’t care about her. This was what he had wanted for months now — for her to tell him to leave, for her to not stand him too. Why did it feel so wrong, then? Why did he feel the urge to collect her in his arms like she loved to do with him? Why did he just want to hold her and tell her he was worried and that he couldn’t wait to spend more time with her, that he couldn’t wait for their stupid study date? And, yeah, it could be a date if she wanted it to. God, he’d accept any name or title she gave their meetings if only they could go on forever.

How long had this been going on? When did she make him so attached to her? Why hadn’t he noticed it before?

“Fuck you, Bakugou,” she muttered, slightly out of breath after her short outburst, face dark with frustration, “those idiots were talking about you and about how you should be a villain or whatever, and I got mad. That’s how I fucking got myself into this, because I care about you. Thanks for caring, asshole.”

The girl turned to walk away, and panic bloomed in the boy’s chest. He didn’t know why exactly, but he knew he couldn’t let her leave. He couldn’t let her leave him, couldn’t let her think he didn’t care, because he was just now seeing he did — so, so much. Of course he cared about her and all her silly manners that made their way into his heart and stayed there, on the edge of conditioning him to feel better whenever she was around. Of course he cared about her and the study dates and the sparring sessions and all the stories she loved to tell, of course he fucking did. Of course.

Katsuki was quick to grab her arm again, pulling her so close to him their chests bumped. Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Bakugou, what the fuck are you—”

“I like you. I really—I really do,” he shook his head, trying to gather his own feelings. “A lot. I was worried. I’m sorry.”

Y/N blinked.

“You were worried? About me?”

“Yes,” he scratched the back of his neck, looking away to hide his blushed cheeks, which didn’t go unnoticed by her attentive eyes. A smile played on the corners of her mouth, and Y/N let herself enjoy the rapid bumping of her heart, the flustered sight of the one boy she had fallen for. Flustered because of her. She could feel a rush of confidence building inside her chest. “I guess… I guess I care about you, too. Even if you’re absolutely insufferable,” he added clumsily, causing her smile to widen considerably, “I can’t fucking stand you, to be honest. You annoy me to no end.”

“Now do I?” she took a step closer, so close that he could feel her breath on his face and it made his head spin. “You don’t seem very annoyed to me, Bakugou.”

“Katsuki,” he corrected thoughtlessly, feeling his face warm up even more when he took notice of his own words.

“Right,” Y/N nodded, smirk on her face, “Katsuki, then.”

He opened his mouth to make a mean remark that would push her away enough to give him space to breathe, but he was suddenly interrupted by her lips on his. Before he could register it, she was gone, speed walking back to the dorms. After a few shocked seconds, he started running after her, calling her name angrily and trying to conceal the dark red on his face, neck, and ears.

“Hey, come back here, Stupid! What the fuck was that?”

Bakugou couldn’t have ignored the way his heart fluttered at the sound of her laugh even if he tried, a lazy smile taking over his lips immediately.

“I can’t stand you either, Katsuki.”

“Oh, shut up.”

[fieryhonesty]

The life of You

[AO3]

Words: 3619

You and the traveler accompanied by his floating friend were nearly close to your final destination. Passing through the entire Liyue, taking a short stop to relax a bit here and now. Enjoying the view at the marvelous land. It never stops to amaze you how beautiful the sunsets are when you can observe how the sun is disappearing behind the mountains.

Liking more Monds as it was a more free and easy going country. The green everywhere was easy on your eyes and overall didn't remind you all that stress tied to business. However you have to admit some parts of Liyue are way too pretty. Perhaps one day you could visit those pretty spots with your friends.

Having a nice walk and observing the never stop to amaze you lands. Some special kinds of flowers and herbs grow only here. Animals you can't see in the anemo Archon domain. Simply put, this is an experience one has to feel and see at least once in their life. 

You made sure not to wander too far away from the main road. Being pressed by time and distance was one thing. Being lost in the middle of somewhere was another. You sure knew your way in Liyue but mostly around habited areas. Not really have spare time to explore the land in detail.

Sometimes you had a short trip around here and there, in presence of other people. Those trips were mostly to bring you and your employees closer and take a break from all of that exhaustion. 

It's really sad how people in Liyue are different from people in Mondstadt. They are always in a rush, stressed out and business is always on their minds. However they are also willing to help with anything related to their field of expertise. 

Can't choose between this and that? Or not sure if this would be a good deal? Well you can be sure they will shower you with advices. However be aware of smooth talkers. They know a lot and know how to make one agree and probably buy more than they were willing at the start.

After all it is all just a part of the never ending flow of contracts. Tied to mora exchange and customer's satisfaction. You were sometimes thinking if Liyue being mostly yellow has something to do with currency. This color is so dominant here, everywhere. One would think leaves and grass is dying but it was healthy just like everywhere else. 

Mora is yellow, Liyue is land of contracts. Money is flowing in and out. This surely can't be coincidence, Morax must have been really smart back then.

You guys were close to Harbor's gates, a few more steps and you could see the entire city. One side enveloping it with azure blue sea, ships being docked in harbor. Supplies being carried out or in, depends on the ship's purpose and destination. Also there were smaller boats as well. Those were personal ones, more than for transport they were for amusement of their owners. 

You often heard about wedding proposals being made at those cute boats. Also there were people who used those boats for business, they transported people between north and south Liyue. It was sort of a trip one could say.

Hearing amazed 'wow' from your companions, turning to them with a smile on your lips.

"Just wait for the night. Then it gets super pretty but also really hectic. As that's the time where citizens are really free from their responsibilities and can enjoy free time." 

"Paimon can't wait to see all those stalls with delicious food!"

You chuckled at her remarks. Not needing to spend too much time with them to know the floating girl is easily manipulated when it comes to food. Just a mention of it and she is all yours. When you said about local specialities her eyes were beaming with excitement. 

By the look at Aether's expression, that was just a normal thing he got used to. As he had to get used to Paimon's big mouth. On your way here, to be more precise when you passed the middle part of Liyue. You came across some beggars. Asking for spare coins. You are still unsure about being glad for what Paimon said or not.

If it weren't for her you two might have got robbed. It turned out to be a bunch of treasure hoarders, not poor beggars barely living. When they found out both of you are carrying weapons and can channel elemental energy. They rather backed out of the trouble.

"Well then, let's head down. Shall we?" 

And so all of you slowly descended down, crossed the city's gate. Passing through streets and making sure the two are following you. Getting lost here is quite easy. 

As you arrived with one day spare, you could have just breathe out and rest for today. The rite will be held tomorrow. The question is what now? Turning to your companions.

"I'm hungry, fancy to get some food?" 

You didn't have to ask twice. Especially when it came to Paimon who was just excited flying around. Checking on stalls and observing various things. The street you were in was mostly for small merchants, selling their handmade goods. Be it art, jewelry, porcelain or those cute paperweight things. Often having sea and boats inside of them.

Moving to the next street which was purely dedicated to kid's enjoyment. Various toys shops and things which sometimes were too inviting even for yourself. You can just silently applaud those toys makers. If an adult like you has a hard time then what about the kids?

Quickly making your way to the small square which was dividing enjoyment shops from more practical ones. Such as herbalists, perfumes, food shops and also some kid's forbidden places. Starting with bars and ending with places you rather not want to think of ever entering. Otherwise you'd die in shame. 

Leading the way to your favorite shop. Knowing your friends probably won't know how to use chopsticks, it will be better to grab some finger food. Sweet dumplings, regular dumplings filled with various things, fried meat. Heck they even sell fries here which you thought it would be only in Mondstadt. 

Once you have all of your food, you have moved to a quieter place. A park with a lot of ponds, lotuses in, fish literally swimming under your feet as you were crossing via the small bridge. Sitting in the least busy place. It was just afternoon and there were already enough people to make you feel uncomfortable. Luckily you are used to crowds now.

With stuffed bellies you guys were barely able to move so you decided to sit around for a bit more. You explain them basics about the city. Like where to go if they'd need this or that. How to avoid being scammed. Liyue might be the land of contracts, one still has to negotiate about prices. People will always try to nudge prices in their profit.

"Paimon wonders. We have been around every major street and miss y/n told us about important places but..." 

She scratched her head.

"Where's your business?" Tilting her head to the side while making 'hmm' noise. Which immediately Aether joined in. 

You didn't plan to show them the building where your now middle sized company was residing in. For some reason you felt uneasy about showing your friends. You still didn't like the fact of inheriting it but at least it's in better shape than before.

As the previous owner was barely able to sign contracts and fulfill her duties. It was slowly fading, many employees had left the company. Also there was a debt written in its name. 

You didn't know why exactly you just didn't turn away and leave. It was none of your business. It was her mess. But somehow you decided to stay and help. It was awkward, especially meeting the dying woman. But you hold back your grudge and remarks. 

You knew it won't be an easy task especially after seeing what has happened in a very short period of time. First of all you needed to gain some trust from the remaining employees. To them you were nobody. Well. It wasn't far away from reality.

You were just a teenager who wanted to train and become a guardian of the city. Perhaps later on find somebody to get laid with and have a happy family. More happier than you had. But that all was taken away or so you thought.

However as the time passed you realized something. One can still be a guardian without having the title. When the debt collector came everyone was scared and shaken. There was no doubt about it might end up pretty bad for everyone present including you. But you played it smart, managing to convince the debt collector about giving you a bit more time.

It was the last chance you will get, he said before leaving. You were shaking and felt like vomiting. But at the same time proud of your smooth talk to get your through it. One thing you could thank to a certain bluenette. 

Since that day you got more trust from employees. It no longer being just the assistant who stood by you, willing to help. With a young mind and great ideas you managed to slowly but surely get the company back to functioning. Guided by your assistant who happens to have enough experience to actually lead the company. But for whatever reason she was not named as the next successor. 

You never felt any hateful feelings from her or desire to take the post from you. If anything she is keeping everything under control and is really modest. Admitting just half for her effort no matter what you said. 

It took over three years to fully recover for the company and be able to compete with others. Or at least partially. No longer being in debt and haunted by the Fatui agents. However to prove the company's worth you had to make a bigger showcase. Everyone was able to attend and observe. Enjoy the food and drinks. The event cost quite a bit but in the long run it turned out to be very worth it.

Eventually getting more offers for material, more interest from not only people from Liyue but also from Inazuma. However that didn't last long as it one day became completely locked away from the world. You really liked the direction where everything was going, nearly forgetting about your life in Mondstadt.

Warming up to people, growing fond of them. It was no surprise to see you spend time after work with some of your employees. Going to a tea house or dinner. Despite you being overly busy you still found some free time to hone your swordsmanship. You still wanted to be able to protect the weak. 

One night after a very long and tiresome week you found yourself staring at the clear night sky. You just finished one of your training. The sky was so nice, the stars being so bright. You wondered if they are looking at the sky right now. If you do see the same thing.

You were one of those people who were forced to grow up and become an adult quickly. Acting like a grown up despite being still pretty young and inexperienced. If it weren't for Mrs. Yue you'd be doomed. Also many others who often offered help. You liked those people but never admitted it aloud. 

When one day supplies didn't arrive in time, nor any message about delay. You got worried about what could have happened. The road which you chose was relatively safe and there were loaned guards for the cart. Something inside of you was telling you to take a look at it. 

Taking your trustworthy sword, leaving a message for Yue who happened not being present at that moment. So when she arrives at the office she would know. There was also stated if you don't return until noon, she will have to alert Millelith.

Just as if you knew. It didn't take long until you found a damaged cart and unconscious guards. However your people were missing, supplies being destroyed. Looking around and noticing tracks. 

The further you follow the more you know you are being lured into a trap. When you entered a place covered by an obvious illusion, you knew there's something really wrong and you just couldn't leave it be. Finding your way around, coming across cocoons. Hearing silent cries coming out of them.

Just when you tore through one of them and saw one of your employees. You realized what made those cocoons. Freeing them out. They were exhausted and pale. However fear allowed them to push forward and retreat from that place. But you did not. 

You knew the thing might attack again. Somebody else who won't be that lucky as your people. Giving them a reassuring smile, saying that you will be alright and they should have enough time to get back to cart. With some luck Millelith will be there already, taking care of them. 

Turning back and running deeper into the weird hive. Just then you realized how much naive and stupid you were. Risking your life just like this. Could it be bravery? Or just being a complete fool? Probably the latter. Your sword skills were impressive however facing the beast proved you were not strong enough. 

You could feel how your life energy was leaving your body during the encounter. You will die here. But you didn't care. You were devoted and wanted to protect. You got poisoned in the middle of the fight. As the poison was slowly spreading across your system. Fingers becoming numb.

You were half accepting the truth of never making it back. To never see any of the people who you consider close to you. To never see your employees' faces. Or never held a party to celebrate somebody's birthday. Or never be able to chase your dreams.

Just when you thought 'that's it I die here' you felt intense energy surging through your body. You could feel how it was encouraging and empowering you enough to rise up, avoid the fatal hit. It was like just all the fatigue has left your body. The poison was no longer effective. 

Swinging your sword, a wave of elemental energy being released. It cut through the beast's thick shell. It surprised you to see what happened but not letting it take over. You thought of channeling more of this weird yet powerful energy. It felt cold but at the same time warm. It might be because your body is getting confused over all of this elemental power, flowing through you.

As you rushed forward with cry, your blade met with the beast's arm. Cutting it off like it was a butter, following to its face. You cut through the entire thing, leaving a crystal like pattern behind. Was it ice? The beast has fallen with a loud and dull noise. 

Looking around, the place was covered in icy fragments. Surely the place didn't look like this before. Glancing down at your hand as you felt something appeared in it. A turquoise orb with a snowflake symbol, socketed into a silver frame with a pair of small wings on bottom at each side.

You knew what it was. Taking a hold on it and looking up. You never thought of ever receiving your own vision. Never feeling worthy to have one. Yet the cryo Archon thought otherwise. 

You did not remember how you got out of that place or what followed. Your body was exhausted and all you know is you will live to tell the tale. Whatever happened you just pushed it away, thinking it was the remaining strength you had, carrying you to safety.

Finger snapping brought you back to reality. Making you realize you had spaced out. Giving apologetic smiles to your already worried companions.

"Gosh. We thought you got possessed by something! We kept calling for you but you didn't respond!" 

Poor boy. His voice was worried and by the expression Paimon was making she was not feeling any better.

"Ah yes. I uh... Something crossed my mind, sorry about that, haha!"

Your eyes dropped down as you nervously fiddled with your fingers. They really want to see your workplace. Letting out a sigh. This had to come eventually. It's not like being ashamed or something, just feeling nervous.

"Alright then. I'll show you, with some luck we might catch up with my assistant so I could introduce you.~"

meeting with yue, talking about the stormterror, skip, rite and inspection, later the day meet traveler talking with tart and be not so nice cuz he fatui have some not really warm talk between you two, offering aether new clothes, then leaving after yue cuz you were going to tea house lol

The building was quite far away from the center. Hidden between two bigger ones, making it look smaller than it actually was. The receptionist was already gone. However people from security who were counting their last minutes for today greeted you with a bow. You motioned to them and kept walking with your friends right behind you.

"So this is the main hall where clothings get sewed together, the opposite doors are where all the fabric cutting happens. And the last door at the end of the corridor is the warehouse. We have another one on the upper floor, but that's for cleaning items only." 

Leading them around, letting them inside to check stuff from close distance. You even met somebody who was going home late, wishing them a nice evening. 

As the building seemed to be quite small from outside, there were many rooms inside. And even more things stuffed in.

"What's this room for?"

The blonde asked while he stood in front of the nameless door. Whilst you just chuckled.

"Some call it a relaxing room, others a sleepy room. It's just to assure nobody gets overly overworked. I know some people stay here until evening despite their work hours ends in mid afternoon." 

Both Aether and Paimon's lips are curling into an 'o'. Probably they did not expect to come across such a room like this. They followed you to your office. Well the office you shared with your assistant.

When you opened the door you found the lady sitting behind the table. She looked up and her eyes sparkled with joy. Getting up and coming closer to embrace you as always.

"Welcome back Lady y/n! I did not expect you to come this week!" 

You returned the embrace as it was something you always do with her. She was like a close friend to you despite the age difference between the two of you. She might have two kids around age of 10 but she is still looking so young and pretty. Also she loves to spoil you like you are one of hers.

"Mrs. Yue this is Aether and his friend Paimon I told you about during my last visit. Aether, Paimon this is Mrs. Yuefeng, my assistant and probably the main pillar of this company."

It was hilarious to observe how the two of them didn't know the greeting here. Trying to mimic what Yue did. 

"Welcome at Qingshan Clothing! You are indeed very cute as Lady y/n said, hmm maybe too much."

Your eyes glancing between her and Aether, mouth partially opened to say something. Coughing away the awkwardness. 

"Please don't mind it. Everyone's cute in her eyes. At least everyone who is younger, which is practically all of us."

"Mmmh! Indeed! You are cute kiddies. I can't believe you are the ones who saved Mondstadt from the Stormterror. You look so innocent but you know what they say. Don't judge a book by its cover."

Yue giggled at her own remark. She was always like this, it was hard to believe such a nice lady like herself can deal with rough business so flawlessly. You glanced over at the table, noticing the mountain of paperwork.

"Well it's getting late. How about you go home my friend? I told you several times not to stay overtime." 

It felt weird to actually lecture a woman who could be acting as your mother but you had no choice. She smiled at you with a tired face.

"I hate to break it to you but this is urgent and has to be done by tomorrow morning. We were stressing about finishing the order in ti-"

"And that's exactly why I order you now to pack your stuff and go home. Relax. Enjoy kiddies and your husband. I'll finish it."

You gave up on having the entire evening free but oh boy you hated people working overtime. Why people can't just chill out. Always in stress and rush.

"But Lady..." She didn't finish her sentence. Your expression was more than serious. 

"Very well. Thank you, I'll treat you tomorrow for some tea. Oh! The rite! We could go there together and after it ends we will crash at our usual spot!" 

Well not like you had something against it. You came here mainly because of the rite. Everything else was just convenient enough, happening along the way. Entrusting Aether with Paimon to Yue's care. As she could take them to an inn. Observing how they disappeared behind a corner. 'I hate this work so much... I wonder if Diluc also has to deal with stuff like this or has people for it.’

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