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delusionalwh6re · 9 months ago

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࿐࿔ ⋆ ｡˚ a helping hand

࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ aged up!neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

summary: it’s late at night and you’re struggling. not only can you not fall asleep but there’s a sudden ache in your core. now what type of mate would neteyam be if he didn’t help you?

warnings: 🔞NEASSTYY smut, masterbation, fingering, missionary, riding, doggystyle, p in v, squirting, can’t spell mother without mo’at, neteyam being jumpscared but then turn into a freak, reader has no shame, & dirty talk

authore note: i had a daydream abt this and needed it come to life 😫 (unlike neteyam) & yall if i make a taglist would anyone wanna be apart of it LMAO 🧍🏽‍♀️hope this makes up for my mini absence on not posting 😇

bye this took forever.. guys pls don’t be shy, i loveeee any type of feedback 🥲

You let out a long sigh in exhaustion as you dropped the second batch of medicine you just made. You couldn’t understand what was going on with you. This was happening all day today, constant screw ups and honestly you were over it.

Inhaling a deep breath in attempt to calm yourself, you started cleaning up the herbs. As you were cleaning up, you failed to notice the presence of your tsahík making you slightly startled.

“What is this?” Mo’at gestured to the mess on the floor. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and you squeaked out a little “Hi”

She sighed and walked over to your kneeling position. You pursed your lips feeling disappointed in yourself. “My child” Mo’at grabbed you from out of your thoughts “You need to relax”

Your tensed shoulders slowly started easing at her words. “I apologize” you muttered respectfully. “It is alright dear, now tell me what is bothering you” she walked in front of you putting her hands out for you to grab. With her words of encouragement, you picked yourself off of the ground. Avoiding her cold harden gaze you felt your emotions rushing back to you.

While looking around the healing tent your eyes accidentally landed on hers. Her eyes piercing directly into yours commanding an answer.

“I feel like a failure” you finally admitted. “What makes you feel that way?” she questioned motioning you to sit on the mat beside her.

“Many women in the past have succeeded beyond my level. Why am I so far behind? I should be able to do this, how can i ever be tsahík if I can’t complete a simple task such as making medicine?” you huffed in frustration after your rant. Mo’at gave you an understanding look before taking her hands in yours “Child, it takes time” she started “but I don’t have much time! Neteyam is granted to be olo’eyktan soon and-” you stated before it was her turn to cut you off.

“What does Neteyam becoming olo’eyktan soon have to do with any of this?” she squinted her eyes at you. “He is my mate” you shrugged. “Exactly , he is your mate, not your conjoined twin!” she exclaimed causing you to let out a breathy chuckle.

“The two of you are completely different people. His learning pace is different than yours and that is okay. Neteyam has been training since he was in the womb, he’s meant for this” your eyes landed on hers as you digested what she was saying. “You on the other hand, have not. You didn’t expect to mate with my grandson but I am glad that you did” she looked you up and down with a sigh of relief.

“Why you say it like that?” you laughed at her sudden look of disapproval. She looked at you with a straight face “I was afraid our village would’ve come to doom had Neteyam picked any of those thirsty women, I don’t know how their mothers do it” she spoke with an eye roll at the memory of many annoying girls trying to get neteyam to court them.

‘What a time’ you thought. Before you and neteyam had become mates, when the two of you were just friends. Time had really gone fast.

Mo’at noticed your dazed out expression knowing you were thinking about your progressive relationship with her grandson. She smiled seeing a bit of herself in you when she had her own mate. She used to be in this exact situation which is why she was able to relate to you.

Snatching you out of your thoughts once again she spoke up breaking the newfound comfortable silence “I used to be in your exact position” your attention went back on her with hopeful eyes “For real? but you’re the best tsahik we’ve ever had” you rambled “I know” she smiled in pride causing you to giggle.

“My point is, practice makes perfect. That is a term i have learned from the sky people here and it is one of the only things they said that are true. You will not get it the first tries, but don’t give up and keep going. Success will come your way, my child” she nodded her head at you in approval

You nodded your head back and felt a sudden rush of confidence run through you. If Mo’at who was honestly one of the strongest people you knew was able to run this clan, so could you.

“You give me hope Ma’ Tsahík” you smiled at her gently squeezing her hands “Oh please, we discussed this, you can call me grandmother” you placed your arms around her for a well needed hug. She tensed before relaxing as she hugged you back with genuine love.

“Besides, I have hopes that there will soon be little ones calling me great grandmother” she pulled away with a smirk and hope glistening in her eyes. A blush crept onto your cheek before laughing at what she was implying “You’re funny”

She began walking you towards the makeshift door to exit out of the healing tent as you discussed your plans for tomorrow. Your ikran landing on a nearby cliff after sensing your presence. Before you were able to fully leave Mo’at reminded you of something “Don’t forget the war party returns tonight, I will not be present but will you able to make sure everyone is in one piece?”

Your eyes widened in realization, Neteyam was returning in a few hours. He had went on a one week hunting trip and you had been missing him like crazy. How could you forget? You figured spending time with Mo’at and being occupied your mind had let that slip.

“Fuck” you mumbled. “Yes! I can do that don’t worry! I’ll see you tomorrow grandmother. Take some rest you deserve it” you yelled out as you sprinted towards your ikran to go home.

You had spent all day at the healing tent that you had no time to prepare for Neteyam’s return. Even though he told you multiple times that as long as you were there he is more than satisfied and he just needed to be wrapped around you.

However, you were still insistent on setting atleast something up for him, what kind of wife would you be? Neteyam was the best husband any one could ever asked for. Always putting you and others above himself, making several sacrifices and just being overall selfless. So you had no problem with being a little housewife.

Once your ikran had landed at the home that Neteyam literally built for your future family. You felt your body getting excited at his soon to come arrival, you had missed your man dearly and you knew once you were in his arms all your problems will disappear.

“My love? I’m home” Neteyam called out as he walked through the door. Immediately frowning once he didn’t see you, however he did notice several candles lit up so he knew you were home.

Walking towards the candles he also noticed a platter of his favorite foods. A smile emerged on his face he bent down to sit as he waited for you since he was sure you would reveal yourself any second. His guess was correct as you slowly appeared in the makeshift door way of your home in a newly made outfit “Welcome home handsome”

Neteyam’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice and your scent. Turning around to finally have a look as his eyes widened. Your azure skin was complimented by green and blue jewels. Your loincloth and top were scattered with them, along with small purple crystals dangling from the pieces. Your cleavage was on display just for him but also not enough in order to tease him. You took your braids out so your hair had the most perfect waves which was a style you knew Neteyam adored.

The forest inspired outfit you had done left him completely star struck. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, and you were all for him. He was so in awe of you he didn’t even notice you were now sat next to him until you said something.

“Handsome you alright? Welcome home” you placed a hand on his cheek before placing a gentle but loving kiss on his lips. He decided to make a move by tilting his head to deepen the kiss, slickly sliding his tongue once you let out a small gasp into his mouth. You giggled into the kiss at his antics causing him to giggle with you before he playfully bit your lip with a smirk.

The two of you leaned away to finally look into the other’s eyes. His eyes were full with so much love you swore they would’ve burst. “Hi beautiful” he rubbed your cheek softly. You nuzzled your face into his hand with a contented sigh finally feeling at peace.

Your gaze met his as a sigh left his mouth. “What is it?” you lifted your head. He stared at you not saying anything. You started becoming nervous under his gaze and debated whether this was too much or not. You were about to speak up about his behavior until he beat you to it.

“You’re just so” he paused to take another moment to admire you “so so beautiful” his voice lowered as his eyes trailed downwards. A heat started to spread across your cheeks as you smiled at him.

For he rest of the night the two of you caught up on everything. He explained how he made several successful kills during the hunt leading to you giving him kisses in reward as you praised him. On the other hand, you came clean to him about how your tsahík training was actually going. He could tell you were very stressed out, encouraging you to take your time and not worry because he will be by your side every step of the way.

Your mind was racing with thoughts as Neteyam peacefully slept on your chest. The two of you cuddled up on your shared bed. After talking for a few hours, time caught up to Neteyam and his tiredness consumed him. You were very understanding and insisted on him getting some rest, even including yourself by laying with him.

But as time went on you couldn’t help but think about the time he was gone. How many nights you were forced to fall asleep without a release. As you debated with yourself on what to do, your mind eventually came to a conclusion. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you gently pushed Neteyam of you, still beside him so he wouldn’t wake up, while slowly trailing your hand down your loincloth.

You were so close. The pit of your stomach tightening more and more with each flick to your clit. It was like you were running to the finish line in slow motion, yet almost there. In just a couple of seconds that knot would finally snapped and you would be stress free. Which is what you desperately needed.

So caught up in your own bliss you didn’t realize the movement from beside you, right when your core was at its peak your fingers stopped at what you heard, losing your hard worked orgasm.

“What are you doing?” Neteyam asked in a quiet voice staring at the side of your face. Your heart physically stopped and dropped for a second. Eywa please say this was just a dream, but no, this was actually a nightmare.

You heard shuffling next to you and finally got the courage to look over at him only to be met with a blank stare “Go ‘head, continue” he licked his lips looking you up and down

You shook your head as frustrated tears filled your eyes. He chuckled before looking down in disbelief “Nah, you wanted to touch yourself right? So finish before I do it for you”

At his words you swore your orgasm would’ve just shot right out of you despite no physical contact, his words just had that affect on you. You bit your lip in anticipation as you pulled your hand away from your pussy and spread your legs further

“Please” you whimpered looking up at him desperately. “Please what baby?” his head tilted as he caressed your cheek lovingly. “Touch me” you whispered dragging his other hand down to your now dripping cunt. He snarled before cupping your pussy while slightly grinding his palm against your throbbing clit.

“Oh I’m gonna do more than touch you, just wait” he smiled before leaning over to kiss a trail across your stomach. Your breath hitched, you were in for it now. “Neteyam” you whined as his lips got more aggressive on your skin. “A week without my attention and you just don’t know how to act, huh?” he shook his head. Your breath got caught in your throat “That’s not true” your voice was barely a whisper.

“It’s not? Over here touchin’ yourself while i’m sleeping right there. You wanted to get caught, didn’t you yawne?” he hovered over you

“Maybe” you bit your lip seductively as the excitement of all of this grew inside of you

He dragged a finger along your slit, gathering up some already built up slick. “All you gotta do is think ‘bout me huh?” he asked looking up at you. “And look at you” you replied cheeky with a lopsided grin. Deciding to be bold, you grabbed onto his hand to press it against your soaked pussy.

“This is what you do to me Neteyam” you moved his hand up and down slowly as wet sounds started filling up the room. He growled as he inhaled your scent “dirty girl”

You laughed breathless as your previous orgasm slowly approached you again. Neteyam, being an expert in your body language already knew this as he continued to watch you, allowing you to use him for pleasure. It’s what you been doing while he was away anyways.

He licked his lips before trailing kisses all over your body. Starting from your cheek, to your neck, then your chest and as he moved downwards his kisses became more aggressive on your stomach. Each time a kiss ended a ‘pop’ would be heard.

You gasped when his slender finger suddenly slipped in, a smirk on his face. He curled his finger at the perfect angle, hitting that squishy spot inside of you that he knew always drove you crazy.

“Oh! I’m so close” you whimpered within seconds. Neteyam helping you reach your peak with ease. “Go ‘head, let it out” he sloppily kissed your clit. At the much needed contact your orgasm flowed right through you. Your mouth opened as a silent scream left you.

“Yeah, yeah make that pussy squirt for me” he spoke lowly rubbing your puffy clit at a fast pace to work you through your orgasm. “Teyam” you whined trying to close your thighs around his hand.

“Unt unt, no, we’re not done” he sat up looking down at you. Your eyes widened as you watched his hands move towards his loincloth to untie it. You inhaled a deep breath at the sight of his cock now in your view. He loosened his loincloth completely as it was now pooled at the bottom of thighs, removing it entirely and throwing it across the room.

“You’ve been so, so greedy. Tell me, do you want it slow or for me to fuck you like I’ve been dying to do?” his voice came out raspy as he placed lighthearted kisses against your neck.

Your body stiffened, your words getting stuck in your throat as you didn’t know what to say. “I-I- just need you Teyam. So bad” you whined.

“How bad baby?” his eyes met yours as he stroked his cock directly in front of your warm sex. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, a wet sound could be heard from the amount of pre cum gathered on his tip. You were so incredibly turned on by him, your body proving that as your cunt clenched around nothing.

“So bad, I want-need you to destroy me.” you ran your hands across his chest. “Fuck me until i have nothing left to give, stuff me to the brim, I want it all, I can take it. I’ll be your good girl, I promise” and if he wasn’t already turned on by just the pure sight of you the words that left your mouth was enough for him to slide his dick inside of you.

The both of you let out long moans at the familiar feeling. Having to be away from each other for a long period of time was hard, but now you guys were together, intertwined.

“Fuuuckk” he moaned looking down at the source of pleasure. You whined and brought your legs to wrap around his waist, bringing him closer to place kisses all over his face.

“I’m all yours, all yours” you whispered in his ear before kissing it gently

“Yeah? You’re all mine? Say that shit again”

“I’m all yours neteyam” a whine leaving your mouth as he grinded on top of you creating the perfect amount of friction

He purred quietly at your words, nuzzling the side of his face into yours and bringing you into a much needed kiss. Causing you to mumble against his lips “I love you”

“I love you more” he placed his hands onto your hips. “You gonna let me fuck you? You’re gonna be good and take it right? he sat up to look down at you.

You pushed your hips up, hoping to answer his question. Circling your hips to feel some friction as he bottomed out inside of you, smirking at him.

Finally feeling satisfied with your response, he started to move. “Shit” he groaned as he felt your sticky walls contract around him. He smirked at your not so slick antics before starting to thrust inside of you. Your whines started to fill up the room along with quiet slapping noises. “Oh Neteyam!” you moaned out scratching his back.

“I been waiting to fuck you for so long baby, I’m right here” he growled in your ear, placing one of his hands on your hips to steady his harsh thrusts.

You started letting out soft moans feeling him go deeper and deeper, your juices making it easier for him to hit spots inside of you only he could reach.

You screamed as his hands made its way behind your thighs to hold them up in the air. Taking this as a sign, your hands replaced his as you now held onto the back of your thighs. “Good girl” he mumbled drilling his dick inside of you

“Mhm, dick- so, so good, yes!” you babbled out complete nonsense but he knew what you were trying to say. “This dick is just soooo good, huh?” he chuckled teasingly

His pace was becoming almost painful but in the most pleasurable way possible as he continued fucking you relentlessly. Pushing your thighs all the up so they were pressed firmly against your chest. Completely folding you just the way he wanted, not having any mercy on you or your poor cunt.

The most obscene sounds consuming the room, all that could be heard is skin slapping, your fucked out screams and his grunts.

“Ugh, don’t stop! Right there, Oh right there!” you whimpered as he jackhammered your pussy

“I’m not gonna stop my love, this pussy is way too good” he mumbled rolling his hips into you as his thrusts became sloppy. You felt your stomach tightening and your cunt clenching rapidly as a signal you were close.

“You’re gonna make me cum” you moaned as you held onto him for dear life. he reached down to be face to face with you before whispering in your ear “Then cum my love”

At his words you completely let go with a scream as you threw your head back. Your orgasm leaked out of you making your privates even wetter. You weren’t embarrassed per say, but every time this happens you kind of shy away from it. Neteyam on the other hand never did and he found it so attractive, he was the only one who got you like this.

“We made a mess baby” he smirked before looking down between your bodies. ”I know” your cheeks heated up and you looked up away from him. “Nah, don’t be shy now” he laughed at you before leaning up to pull out of you, he assumed you were tired and wanted to call it quits, but oh your man just had no idea how badly you really needed him.

Within a couple of seconds, he was laid out on his back with you hovering over him. Your plump lips slightly swollen from the amount of kisses and moaning, the tits that he loved so much on a perfect eye level so he could trail his tongue around your sensitive nipples, your slim waist that he loved so much, fuck. you were truly a goddess on display.

“You’re so sexy” you moaned biting your lip as you rubbed your sensitive clit on his abs making them tense. Not that he was completely on soft anyways, but now he was rock hard again.

“Don’t play with me babe, if you wanna do something then do it” he smirked at you before he placed his bottom lip between his teeth. You smiled at him with pure adoration before reaching behind you to grab his wet cock to line it up with your drenched hole.

Sinking down onto him with a contented sigh, the familiar feeling of his dick filling you up once again. Light moans from you and Neteyam filling up the hut. A hum from Neteyam catching your attention, his head firm against the pillow as his mouth slowly formed in an ‘O’ shape.

You felt your insides tingling knowing you were the reason because of that, bringing him pleasure. Catching him out of a trance you rolled your pelvis against his, his tip kissing your g spot perfectly.

“Baby” he whispered lowly as his eyes were hooded as he looked at you. “Yes?” You smiled bringing a hand to his neck up to his cheek. “C’mon” he impatiently moved your hips back and forth signaling what he wanted

With a proud smirk on your face, you made sure your knees were placed firmly beside his hips while perching yourself on your tippy toes for balance. “Ready?” you adjusted to his size

“Always” he cockily bit his lip and closed his eyes as he began to relax while you fucked him. Gathering up the confidence, you pushed your hips up until his throbbing tip was the only thing inside of you before slamming back down.

A loud moan left the both of you. You looked at Neteyam through your lashes; his eyes slightly rolling to the back of his head, he was enjoying this. Repeating the same action, each time a perfect stroke against your g spot causing you to cry out and drip. After gaining some rhythm with your hips, you were riding him like there was no tomorrow.

“Hmm, oh my gosh” you moaned loudly throwing your head back as you slammed down onto him harder, the pleasure consuming all parts of your body and you didn’t want it to stop. “So fucking- ugh” he was cut off when you started to circle your hips.

You leaned forward placing your hands beside his head as you placed your mouth by his ear. He smiled up at you before putting a hand on your lower back. Deciding to be bold, you moved your hips in a specific motion which led to his eyes widening in realization.

“Told you I’m all yours baby” you whined in his ear as you continued spelling his name with your hips

He placed a hard spank on your ass, a chuckle leaving his lips “Damn right you are, no one is ever fucking you the way I do right?”

You let out a moan once his hips roughly thrusted towards yours, him meeting your thrust more than half way. “Answer me” he demanded forcing your hips up and down. “N-no!” your voice shook as your guts got played in

“Neteyaaam” you moaned as your legs were starting to give out from his harsh thrusts. “Gonna cum, hm?” he trialed his thick tongue around your perky nipples, a bolt of electricity running through you due to the amount of pleasure.

“Yes! Yes please let me cum” you begged placing your hands on his shoulders. “I was never gonna deny you release baby” he laughed at your vulnerable state, clearly amused at how much you really needed him to fuck some brain cells back into you.

“Mhm, turn around” he moaned giving your ass a hard smack before gripping it gently. You gave him a smirk before placing your hands on his chest for balance while getting off of him. Turning around, making sure to give him a perfect view, your round ass on display just for him along with your slick pussy lips. He moaned at the sight before placing another firm slap on the flesh.

You giggled while sliding back on his thick cock that was desperately waiting for your dripping cunt “My ass is gonna fall off with how much you smack it”

“I don’t give a fuck, it’s mine right?” he smiled behind your back while gripping the flesh tightly with both hands. “Obsessed” you mumbled before leaning forward to place your hands on his knees for balance as you began going crazy on top of him.

“Yeah put it on me, juuuuusst like that” he moaned watching your ass ripple against his pelvis. “Oh! Mhm, I- FUCK!” you screamed using all your force to slam down onto him. Your eyes crossing as his warm sack met your clit.

“Damn mama” Neteyam looked in awe as strings of your juices started to create lines all over your privates; moans getting louder as the both of you approached your peaks.

“I’m gonna fucking cum” your voice getting higher after each word from every thrust into your core. “S-Same time baby” he stuttered holding onto your hips as the knot in his stomach finally unraveled.

His seed flowing through you was enough to trigger your own orgasm as you let go on top of him. Your guys’ cum now mixed together pooled all over each other’s thighs.

Your breathing slowly became steady as your legs staggered while trying to get off of him. “Let me help you” a raspy voice was heard behind you. However, it wasn’t long until you were set up face down ass up.

“You’re actually trying to kill me” you muttered turning your head to look back at Neteyam. “Kill the cat” he winked at you while playing with your swaying tail.

You bit back a smile before pushing your ass back onto him; making sure to hold eye contact with him the whole time. An obvious smirk on your lips as you teased him.

You were caught off guard by a stinging pain on your right cheek. “You know what-” you started before being caught off by a harsh thrust into your cunt.

Neteyam set a merciless rhythm from the beginning. He was determined to have you worn out by the end of this round, wanting you to sleep real good in his arms tonight which is right where you belonged.

“NETEYAM!” you screamed plunging your face into the sheets as you gripped onto them tightly causing your knuckles to turn white. “I really wish you could see this baby” he groaned watching himself go in and out

“Oh great mother! Yes!” you moaned as he impaled you from behind; another orgasm quickly approaching unsurprisingly. “Yeah? You wanna see this too right?” he gripped your hips

“Mhm, baby please” you didn’t know what you were saying please for but both of you had an idea that you just didn’t want him to stop. He laughed “Maybe next time I should just take one of those cameras then, could just make our own movie, so every time I’m away you’ll have something. Keep you in check of exactly who this pussy belongs to”

You moaned loudly at his words and clenched around him tightly as you came on him for the third time tonight. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking ‘bout!” he bit his bottom lip; tugging on your hair to lift you up.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his pace increased. With every firm thrust he sent you he smashed against your sweet spot that had you trembling “I-I caaan’t”

“You can take it though right? Wanna be big and bad every other time” he mumbled under his breath now rolling his hips into you; his pace changing to slow but deeper

“Too big” you whispered as your thighs shook. He bit his lips admiring your form before planting kisses all over your back “I want you to think of everything I just did to you the next time you touch yourself, you hear me?”

You nodded your head letting out a soft moan “Babeee, I can’t stop cumming, feel so full, feels so fucking good”

He soothed your cries with a gentle rub on your ass to calm you “I got you, just let it out, you been good like you promised”

“I love you, Neteyam! I love you soo much” you sobbed as he picked up his pace again in attempt to make both of you guys cum. His dick bullying its way all throughout your stomach, hitting all of the right places.

“I love you sooo much more, beautiful. Cum all over this dick, you deserve it” he spoke softly tightening his grip on your hair.

You came with a cry of his name, your jaw dropping as pleasure washed over you for the fifth time in a row. Your body slowly giving up on you, but a smile was plastered on your face as you got what you’ve desperately been wanting.

“Shiiit” he whimpered as your juices ran down your body getting his cock wetter than before; the position you were in not helping at all as he looked down before suddenly busting his load inside of you.

You hummed in satisfaction as you rolled your hips back towards his still ones, letting the moment die down peacefully. As exhaustion washed over the both of you, it was time to cuddle up. Neteyam got up to go across the room to clean you up with gentleness and care. You even cleaned him up aswell leading to you guys being extra lovey dovey with one another.

The two of you were inseparable. Now finally settled in your shared home, in bed, peacefully. Your queues now connected together as you guys let your minds speak to each other, letting the other know how much they were loved.

In the end it was all worth it…

#neteyam #avatar the way of water #avatar #atwow #avatar smut #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #atwow fanfiction #neteyamsmut #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #i need him #dick me down #this took forever to make #neteyam avatar

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felinecyan · 10 months ago

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Reality of Realizations

[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.

WC: 3559

Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto

This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺️🫶

『••✎••』

In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.

Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.

For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.

And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.

When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.

As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.

You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.

Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:

An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.

But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.

And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.

You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.

That guilt settled in.

He was a horrible person.

He had to make up for it.

And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.

The question was, how?

He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?

How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?

He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.

Surely, it would help.

After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.

Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.

He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.

Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.

He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.

Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.

He wanted to be your friend.

He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.

You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.

Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.

But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.

Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.

Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.

He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.

Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.

"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."

But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.

"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"

You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.

"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.

"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."

Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?

The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.

Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.

So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?

He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.

But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.

He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.

And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.

His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.

His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.

His mind continued to wander.

Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.

None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.

His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.

Birds.

Why does that remind him of something?

What do birds have to do with a gift?

He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.

And then, a memory flashed.

It was a rainy day, and you were late.

You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.

You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.

Luckily, it wasn't too far away.

Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.

And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.

You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.

When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.

You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.

A hairclip, to be specific.

You lost a hairclip.

It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.

He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.

You really cared.

You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.

And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.

If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.

Until now.

In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.

He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.

It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.

He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?

Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.

It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.

He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.

The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.

And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.

Oh, right, the apology.

He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.

But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?

Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.

He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.

Okay, how would he start?

Hi? No, that was too casual.

Hello? No, it's not formal enough.

Greetings?

No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.

He needed something more genuine, more real.

Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.

He cleared his throat again.

"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.

He started over.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."

This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.

"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."

He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.

"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."

Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.

He sighed.

Hopefully.

The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.

But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.

Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.

The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.

This is it, he thought—all or nothing.

He took a deep breath.

Here goes.

"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.

You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.

Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.

"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"

The question made him snap back into reality.

He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.

You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.

"What's this?"

"It's a gift."

Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.

"For... me?"

Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!

He shook his head.

"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."

You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?

You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.

"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."

Silence.

He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.

"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.

So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.

"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."

When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.

And that smile. Oh, that smile.

He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.

"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.

You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.

"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."

Wait, was that a yes?

Was that a yes?!

Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.

"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."

You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.

"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."

You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.

"I can… um, help you with that if you want."

The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.

It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.

It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.

"You look nice," he told you.

"Thank you."

There was a pause.

"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."

The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.

"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."

Mission make up with you: success.

The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.

Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.

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writeriguess · 1 month ago

Note

hey darling! could I please request a katsuki bakugou x yn (dating) whereby they got into a heated argument post fight (against a rather dangerous villain) in which yn took a shot that was evidently meant for kats, so he’s reprimanding yn on how careless they are (as he struggle to properly express himself), thus, yn just accepts his scoldings and mean words and became distant w him. of course, he feels guilty after some time and tries to talk to yn, but it’s not going in his favour whatsoever (a cliff hanger type of ending please, thank you!)

Fears

The air was thick with the lingering scent of smoke and gunpowder, the aftermath of the battle still fresh in the ruined streets. Katsuki Bakugou’s hands were clenched into tight fists, his jaw locked so hard it could snap. The streetlights flickered dimly, casting long shadows over the debris, the only sounds being distant sirens and his own ragged breathing.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" His voice was raw, hoarse from shouting commands during the fight—but this was different. This was anger laced with something else, something heavier. "You just fucking jumped in front of me! Do you have a goddamn death wish?"

You stood there, the pain from your injury dull compared to the sting of his words. The wound on your side throbbed, the makeshift bandage already darkening with blood. But what hurt more was the way he was looking at you—furious, livid, like you had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

“I—”

“No! Shut up! You think you’re a hero for pulling that shit?” His crimson eyes were ablaze, but they were also shaking, betraying the fear he refused to voice. "You don't get to be so fucking reckless! What if—what if you had died, huh? Did you think about that?" His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he masked it with a scowl, stepping closer, towering over you as his hands trembled at his sides.

You swallowed hard. "I just... I couldn't let you get hurt, Katsuki. I—"

"That's not your fucking job!" He raked a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "You’re supposed to have my back, not throw yourself in front of me like some dumbass martyr! You think that makes you strong? It makes you fucking stupid!"

You bit your lip, absorbing the weight of his words. He didn’t mean it—at least, not the way it sounded. You knew that. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, barely audible over the distant sirens.

Bakugou stilled. His breath was ragged, his hands still trembling at his sides. He wanted to say more, but the words refused to come. He wanted to tell you that the thought of losing you had made his blood run cold, that seeing you bleeding out on the ground had sent a fear through him that he didn’t know how to handle. He wanted to admit, in some messed-up way, that he had never been more terrified in his life.

But all he did was scoff. "Whatever. Just... don't fucking do it again."

You nodded once, silent. And then you turned away.

Over the next few days, something changed. You still showed up to missions, still trained, still shared space with him—but you weren’t really there. You didn’t joke around like before, didn’t meet his eyes, didn’t linger near him like you used to. You spoke when necessary, but your words were short, distant.

And he fucking hated it.

At first, he convinced himself it was fine. That you just needed space. That you’d snap out of it soon enough.

But days passed, and nothing changed. And the guilt settled in, suffocating. It ate away at him during training, during missions, during sleepless nights where he found himself replaying that moment over and over. The way you had looked at him. The way your voice had sounded so... small.

One evening, he finally cornered you outside the agency, frustration boiling over. "Oi," he called, but you barely glanced at him before continuing down the steps. His eye twitched. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

You halted but didn’t turn around. "What do you want, Bakugou?"

The way you said his name—so formal, so devoid of warmth—sent a sharp pang through his chest. "What the fuck is your problem?" he snapped. "You've been acting weird all week."

You exhaled slowly, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. "I got your message loud and clear, alright? You don’t have to yell at me again."

His brows furrowed. "What message—"

"That I'm a reckless dumbass who needs to stay out of your way."

Bakugou's mouth opened, but no words came out. Because that wasn’t what he meant. That wasn’t what he wanted you to take from it at all.

You finally turned to look at him then, and something in your eyes—something unreadable, distant—made his stomach drop. There was no anger, no fire, no fight left in you. Just a quiet kind of acceptance. And it fucking scared him more than any battle ever could.

Before he could get a grip on what to say, you turned and started walking away again.

And for the first time in a long time, Katsuki Bakugou didn’t know how to fix what he had broken.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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astralis-is-typing · 3 months ago

Text

Better with you beside me

⚝fic type: slice of life

⚝genre/contains: seungmin x gn!reader, college!au, fluff, comfort, established relationship, domestic af lol

⚝word count: 1.9k

⚝inspo: "Only" by LeeHi, and a prompt from this post by @novelbear

“Can we get stop by the café on our way back?” You groaned, sneakers dragging across the white tiles of the packed stationery store. Your boyfriend leaned closer, trying to catch your words over the din. You tilted your face towards him, repeating your words closer to his ear.

“There’s food back at your dorm,” Seungmin replied matter-of-factly, tutting at your forgetfulness and playfully flicking your forehead. “We made sandwiches before we left, remember?”

“That’s a whole train ride away,” you sighed dramatically, throwing your head back and rubbing your grumbling stomach for good measure.

“Okay, okay,” Seungmin conceded with faux exasperation, but the amused glint in his eyes was a dead giveaway. “We’ll grab brownies or something once we’re out of here.” He took your hand in his and gave a gentle tug, urging you through the aisle at a faster pace. A toppling stack of binder files narrowly missed his head, but he dodged out of the way just in time. “For now, can we get a move on?”

You grumbled a noncommittal reply, interlocking your cold fingers with his warm ones as you quickly sidestepped the sea of orange and purple files now scattered across the floor. Seungmin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and unfurled the battered shopping list that held your list of supplies. Almost every item jotted down in fading blue ink had been crossed off; it was a testament to the errand nearly complete.

You gripped the handles of the heavy plastic shopping basket tighter, the heap of notebooks, pens, and other supplies making your arm ache in protest as you weaved through the throng of bodies. Like everyone else in here, you’d waited till the very last minute to get everything you needed before the semester started next week.

“A coffee would do me wonders,” you murmured, eyes wearily scanning the packed checkout lines.

“I think everyone in here could say the same,” Seungmin chuckled, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he took in your worn-out state.

The store was packed with baggy-eyed college students, who no doubt had spent these final days before the start of the semester catching up on work they should’ve completed over the winter break.

The two of you finally made it to the front of the long queue, Seungmin swatting your hand away as you tried giving your card to the cashier. She smiled softly as your boyfriend insisted on paying on your behalf.

“You forget that you’re also a broke college student,” you say, glaring at Seungmin as he thanked the cashier with a small smile and ushered you out of the store.

“Semi-broke,” he quipped, cooing at the expression on your face and poking your side. “You forget that ‘After School Club’ actually makes bank. Felix and Jeongin would’ve bailed out a long time ago if it didn’t.”

“Still,” you sighed, glare evaporating at the mention of Seungmin’s hilarious podcast. “I’d saved up for this stuff, you didn’t have to pay for me.”

The banter between the two of you carried on, bumping into each other every so often as you walked on. Making good use of Seungmin’s distraction, you managed to steer him all the way into your favourite café. Knowing him though, you suspected he could tell where you were leading him and simply let you have your way.

“Just one cappuccino,” you negotiated, left foot inching towards the café’s entrance. Seungmin noticed this and chuckled fondly, nudging it back into position with his own foot.

“You’re really something else.” He sighed, but made no move to argue.

“Is that a yes?” You asked in glee, the weight of your purchases forgotten as you happily swung your shopping bag at your side.

“No coffee though— you know what it does to you,” Seungmin said, shaking his head at your antics. “Get a hot cocoa or some tea. Same for me. You go ahead, I forgot I need to get something.”

“Okay, deal!” Smug from your supposed victory, you didn’t notice the way Seungmin’s lips quirked upwards as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek and walked into the café with a slight spring in your step.

—

It didn’t take long for you to find a cozy little corner to people watch after you placed your to-go order. The familiar scent of freshly baked pastries was a comforting contrast to the disorienting array of perfumes and colognes that bombarded your senses in the stationery store. You took a deep breath, sinking into the plush chair and allowing yourself to momentarily zone out. Contentment came easily these days; simply taking in the low music playing through the café’s speakers or the mellow chatter of groups sitting around tables in twos and threes did you a world of good. To simply exist for a few moments, not particularly focusing on anything.

Seungmin came back just after the waiter at the counter had called out your order. You rested your arms on the counter and watched him walk in as the waitress double-checked your receipt. His dark brown bangs fell slightly over his eyes, and he absentmindedly feathered them back into place as he casually strolled over to you at the counter.

“Ready to head back?” He asked, adjusting the tote bag on his shoulder.

“All set!” you confirmed with a nod, hands each balancing your shopping bag and your order.

“We’re not going to get very far like this,” Seungmin teased with a laugh, taking the small box of brownies from you and plopping it into his tote bag before relieving you of your loaded shopping bag.

“Aren’t you the man?” you teased back. Seungmin pulled a silly face at you in response, and you nearly dropped the two cups of hot cocoa you were holding from laughing.

—

“We’re literally four hundred meters from the train station,” Seungmin huffed incredulous. He bit back a laugh at how you were hunched over, empty cups in hand.

Shaking his head, Seungmin took the cups from you and tossed them into a nearby recycle bin before returning to simply stand by your side, arms crossed as he waited for you to recover.

The two of you must’ve been quite the sight— you, bent forward and groaning dramatically, while Seungmin stood stoically beside you, his expression deadpan.

“Piggyback ride,” you demanded, straightening back up with an exaggerated sigh.

“You’ve got to be insane!” Seungmin exclaimed. “The train station is right there.”

“No more,” you protested, shaking your head. “You said that ten minutes ago. Now, piggyback ride!” You clapped your hands once, stepping behind your wide-eyed boyfriend and patting his broad shoulders. “My feet are killing me,” you whined.

“Lazy,” Seungmin quipped, before sighing in defeat and letting you jump onto his back like a human backpack.

Grinning brightly at your small triumph, you ruffled his hair in thanks as your aching feet left the ground. Kim Seungmin was a tough man to beat, definitely seeing right through your exaggerated exhaustion. But he let you win anyway. Just because it was you.

—

The train rattled on, and you periodically turned to the window, letting the fading warmth of the sunset kiss your face one last time. Outside, the scenery blurred past in streaks of colour and light as you and Seungmin sat side by side, playing tic-tac-toe on a forgotten scrap of paper you had found on your seat. After yet another draw, Seungmin gave up, stuffing his pen into the front pocket of his jeans.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed, playfully reprimanding you. “You use the same infuriating tactics every single time.”

“Hey! It’s the only way to play the game,” you argued in your defense, laughing at his despair.

“You always try trap me by placing your ‘X’ at the same corner!”

“What do you want me to do? Start at the middle?” Your face twisted in mock horror. Such a rookie mistake was far beneath your prowess.

Seungmin tutted at you, giving up before the argument could even begin. “You’re so stubborn,” he grumbled— then immediately blamed himself for it, claiming you’d picked up the trait from hanging out with him. With a sigh, he leaned in, wiggling his fingers in front of your eyes as if he wanted to poke them.

You barely reacted, of course.

It was one of his many odd habits, something you’d grown accustomed to long ago. You still remembered his first ever visit to your dorm, when he’d attacked your plushies, pressing his fingertips into their button eyes and laughing maniacally as if it were the funniest activity known to man.

So, it didn’t come as a surprise now when, instead of flinching, you instinctively shut your eyes and let the soft pads of his fingertips rest gently against your eyelids. You had long since stopped caring how this unorthodox display of affection might look to passersby.

It was moments like these when you felt most at peace.

The stillness of his quiet steady love made time stop for just a second. And that was enough to restore structure to your chaos.

Seungmin was your small but certain happiness, the subtleties of his love a constant reassurance that carried you through the longest of days.

“By the way, I got you something,” he said quietly. A rare, shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he fretted with your coat, reaching beneath the collar to tug out the bunched-up hood of your zip-up hoodie. You hadn’t even noticed that small discomfort, but he had.

Briefly acknowledging his help with a smile, you tilted you head, intrigued.

Seungmin reached into the depths of his tote bag beside him and turned back to you with red ears. “Here.” He held out a box to you. “I... got you headphones. So you can, you know, zone out in peace.”

Your breath caught.

There was silence for a beat, then another, and in this void you began to notice every other sound around you— the rhythmic click-clack of the wheels on the tracks, the soft hum of the engine beneath your seats. The rustle of a newspaper as someone nearby turned a page, the snippets of distant conversations that had previously blended into white noise.

You tried to sync your breathing with the train’s rhythm, grounding yourself as you processed what Seungmin had just said.

How well he knew you.

Seungmin, ever perceptive, understood your quiet. “I noticed how you get overwhelmed after… interacting so much,” he admitted, almost sheepishly. “So, here’s a way to slow down. I hope…”

Tears welled in your eyes as you took in his words. “It’s perfect.”

Beyond that, words failed you. All you could manage was pull him into a hug.

Seungmin welcomed it with a small chuckle, the sound muffled as his cheek was squished against the fabric of your coat. Your scent was familiar, an unspoken invitation that eased the last of his lingering anxieties about whether you’d like his gift.

He looked up at you from this angle, admiring the gentle curve of your smile. “I hope they make your semester easier,” he murmured earnestly. Then, adding with a mischievous grin. “And you needed to let those ancient earphones go.”

You rolled your eyes, classic Seungmin. You swatted his hair lightly as you released him from your hold. “But you already do.” Your voice softened. “Make my days easier, I mean.”

Seungmin smirked at that. “Don’t you ever worry,” he said. “You’re stuck with me for the long run. We’ll be alright.”

⚝A/N: So excited to be back to writing fanfics! Last time I posted on here was like, August of 2023. I've grown a lot since then haha, both as a writer and as a person (I hope). Thank you for reading <3 I hope this story finds someone who's as obsessed with "Only" as I am lol.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin imagines #seungmin scenarios #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #skz soft thoughts #skz soft hours

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thedemoninme141 · 20 days ago

Text

The Maiden Of Death Part 5

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 10.5K-ish

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3- Part 4--Part 5

Summary: Enid's plan gets Wednesday a bit close to you, and she found out, who you were, on the night of Raven.

A/n: Sorry for taking so long with this, really was so busy with life and all. It's kinda hard to maintain time for me these days. But I am trying my best :(

Warnings: Down bad Wednesday? A small reveal at the end? Rom-com turns into horror?

“I will now present to you—” Enid spun dramatically, “—the Six-Part Dating Strategy!”

Wednesday stared blankly. “I will burn this room down.”

Enid ignored her.

PLAN ONE: “Subtle compliments!” Enid clasped her hands together. “You know, like, ‘Oh wow, Y/N, your hair looks really nice today even with all that blood.’ or ‘Wow, Y/N, I love the way you almost murdered me during fencing'."

Wednesday’s face remained impassive. “I do not compliment people.”

And yet, here she was, standing across from you in the fencing hall, rapier in hand, watching as you sidestepped her latest attack with infuriating ease.

Your movements were a spectacle—fluid, efficient, entirely unreadable. But this time, you barely engaged in offense, your sword more of a guide than a weapon, your real focus resting on evasion. You moved as though the air itself bent to accommodate your existence, as though gravity had little hold on you.

And it irritated her.

No. That wasn’t quite right.

It fascinated her.

Wednesday gritted her teeth and struck again, but you were already gone before the tip of her blade could meet your shoulder, ducking at the last possible second, gliding just out of reach.

Why?

Why weren’t you hitting her?

Even when she had given you an opening, moments where any experienced fencer would have capitalized on a misstep, and yet you never took them.

Not out of pity. No, you weren’t the type.

It was deliberate.

Intentional.

You were training your reflexes, perfecting your dodging. Using her.

Wednesday felt an unexpected warmth creep into her chest at the thought, a strange mix of irritation and satisfaction. That you deemed her skilled enough to be a challenge for your evasive techniques, that you were using her in your own training, was something she couldn’t quite bring herself to dislike.

But it also meant she had yet to truly test your limits.

Her grip tightened.

She lunged.

You let her get close this time—dangerously close—but at the last moment, you twisted your body, turning just enough for her blade to skim past your side, and in one fluid motion, your rapier met hers with a decisive clash, knocking her weapon off course.

Her balance wavered.

Your hand met her shoulder.

The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back, the cold flooring of the fencing hall beneath her as your sword hovered just inches from her throat.

Damn it.

Wednesday sat up, watching as you turned away, as you always did after your fights, moving to the benches to remove your gloves. It was an unspoken routine now—you never lingered, never exchanged words. You were a ghost even in the moments of your victories.

She just… didn’t understand it.

Her fingers curled against the floor as she inhaled sharply.

Compliments.

Wednesday nearly grimaced.

This was going to be simple. A compliment was nothing more than an observation, a statement of truth. She was always honest—this was no different.

Her lips parted.

“…Your—”

You glanced at her, barely acknowledging her presence.

Wednesday inhaled.

Just say it.

“…Your, uh…” she hesitated, feeling an immediate and unfamiliar heat crawl up her spine, like her body was physically rejecting the act. She forced herself forward, jaw tight. “Your reflexes are… adequate.”

A long silence followed.

You blinked.

It was the most she had ever seen you react to anything.

You just stood there, half in the middle of removing your glove, staring at her with an expression that very clearly read: What the hell is wrong with you?

Wednesday wanted to die.

Or at the very least, vanish into a void where she could pretend that hadn’t just left her mouth.

Your head tilted slightly, as if trying to decipher her.

Wednesday felt something in her stomach twist violently, but she held her ground, keeping her expression unreadable.

Finally, you gave her a slow, almost lazy nod. And without a word, you finished pulling off your gloves and walked out of the fencing hall.

Wednesday remained rooted in place.

A sharp exhale escaped her.

That was…

She didn’t even know what that was.

"PLAN TWO: “Mysterious gifts!” Enid beamed. “Leave little trinkets! Like, oh! A fancy dagger or—wait, you’d probably leave something super creepy, wouldn’t you?”

Wednesday considered it. “Bianca's severed hand might be an appropriate token.”

“Wednesday, NO.”

She had the perfect item in mind.

Wednesday watched from the corner of the hallway, watching from a safe distance as you stepped out of your room.

There it was. The small, unassuming black box, sitting neatly at your door.

You stopped.

Wednesday observed the way your gaze narrowed, suspicion flashing across your features. You stared at it for a moment too long, as if assessing whether it was some kind of elaborate trap. Your hesitance was telling. Her lips curled slightly. You were always prepared for the worst. She liked that about you.

Had no one ever left you a gift before?

The thought made something unpleasant stir in Wednesday’s chest.

Wednesday noted the way your shoulders tensed, the way your gaze flickered over the hallway, sharp and calculating. As if you were analyzing every possible threat before approaching the box with the same caution one might have when dealing with an explosive device.

At least you weren’t foolish.

You knelt down, carefully lifting the box, turning it over in your hands as if weighing its contents. Then, finally, you opened it.

Wednesday’s breath slowed.

Your eyes widened. Just barely.

Wednesday had seen you fight, had seen you maneuver through attacks with unnerving ease, had seen you reduce your enemies to mere obstacles in your path. But this—this fleeting moment of surprise—was something else entirely.

Something rare. Something fascinating.

Your fingers brushed over the smooth surface of the skull before you lifted it from the box, holding it in your hand... as if caressing it.

Wednesday felt something unfamiliar stir in her chest.

Satisfaction.

She had done this. She had caused this reaction in you.

But then without hesitation, you turned your head—directly toward where she stood.

Wednesday pressed herself further into the alcove, heart rate steady. You hadn’t seen her. That much she was certain of.

When she risked another glance—

You were gone. Your door remained open.

“What is this for?”

Wednesday stiffened.

Slowly, she turned her head.

You stood beside her.

Wednesday ignored the way her pulse had jumped at the sudden proximity.

Her mind scrambled for an answer. This was supposed to be a mysterious gift.

She had not anticipated you catching her in the act.

It was supposed to leave you wondering.

Not questioning her.

Words, normally so precise, felt fleeting in her mind. She had not prepared for an interrogation.

“…It is a talisman,” she finally stated, voice level despite the odd twisting sensation in her chest. “A symbol of fortune.”

You regarded her, eyes narrowing slightly.

Wednesday refused to squirm beneath your scrutiny.

After a pause, you asked, “Why didn’t you just give it to me directly?”

Wednesday faltered. She never faltered.

Her mind worked frantically, scrambling for something that made sense.

“…It is a tradition,” she finally settled on, forcing her tone into something impassive. “A gift left to be discovered rather than handed over. It is more effective when received unexpectedly.”

Your eyes held hers for a long moment, dark and unreadable, before you hummed, almost as if you were amused.

Wednesday’s fingers twitched slightly against her palm.

"Goodnight," she said, abruptly turning on her heel.

No, she was not fleeing! She just had no further reason to linger.

And yet, long after she had returned to her room, long after she had laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, she could not erase the sight of your expression from her mind—

The way you had looked at her.

Like she was something worth understanding.

"PLAN THREE: Small gestures." Enid practically vibrated with excitement, clasping her hands together like she was reciting a sacred text.

"Subtle things that let her know you care. Like offering her her favorite dessert, or pushing her out of the way of a moving car!"

Wednesday hummed. "I'd rather push her into the way of a moving car."

Enid gasped in horror.

"Wednesday! That would hurt the car!"

You sat with your usual unreadable expression, quietly sipping a black coffee, right beside Enid, right in front of Wednesday...

A strategic choice on Enid’s part.

One that Wednesday refused to acknowledge as useful.

"I still think we should have a dedicated gaming club," Ajax was saying. "Like, come on, we have fencing, but we can’t have video games? Kinda unfair, if you ask me."

Bianca scoffed. "What, so you can lose to me in two different kinds of competitions?"

"Okay, first of all, ouch. Second, I’d totally win."

"In your dreams, Medusa Boy."

"Oh by the way, you should definitely join a club Y/n. " Enid asked you.

Wednesday noticed the way your fingers barely twitched, how your gaze flickered toward Enid before settling back onto your untouched food.

"Maybe hummers?" Enid suggested and Wednesday knew it was because she was there.

At that, Eugene nearly choked.

You said nothing.

Enid waited for a moment, then let out an awkward chuckle, glancing at Wednesday for help.

Wednesday didn’t bother offering any. Your mood was unreadable, but there was something… restrained in the way you sat, something distant.

If Enid noticed, she didn’t mention it.

But Bianca did.

"Let me guess," Bianca drawled, her voice laced with a thin layer of amusement. "No clubs. No interests. No social life. Just endless brooding in some dark corner."

Wednesday turned her gaze toward you, waiting for a reaction.

But you gave her nothing.

You didn’t look at Bianca. Didn’t acknowledge her presence. Didn’t breathe in her direction.

"You know, I’ve seen this before," Bianca said, voice laced with faux amusement. "The whole dark and brooding thing? It gets old fast. You might want to work on having an actual personality before people lose interest."

You didn’t even flinch.

You simply continued sipping your coffee, as if Bianca were no more than the air around you.

Wednesday wasn’t sure if it was self-restraint or if you truly didn’t care, but it was making Bianca’s irritation worse.

"Silent treatment, huh? Not surprising. I guess when you don’t have much to offer in a conversation, silence is your best bet."

Wednesday placed her fork down with a deliberate slowness.

"It’s amusing," she said, her voice cutting cleanly through the air, halting whatever Bianca had been about to say next. "How the most bitter individuals are always the first to reach for weak insults. As if degrading others somehow makes up for their own lack of control."

The table quieted.

Bianca’s eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter?" Wednesday’s gaze was unwavering. "You're attempting to provoke her because she refuses to acknowledge you. It’s a rather sad display of wounded pride."

A flicker of something passed over Bianca’s expression—frustration, maybe. Annoyance. "That’s not—"

"You lost," Wednesday continued, her voice remaining void of emotion. "Accept it and move on, like any self-respecting individual would. Or are you so insecure that you need validation from the one person who doesn’t even care enough to respond?"

The table went silent.

Bianca’s expression hardened. "Careful, Addams."

Wednesday tilted her head. "Or what? You’ll resort to more pathetic attempts at insults? I expected better."

"Wednesday," Enid hissed under her breath, clearly panicked.

Bianca looked like she was ready to kill her.

But Wednesday did not care.

She had watched Bianca push, had watched her try to tear into you, to get a reaction.

And Wednesday had not liked it.

She was not entirely sure why.

She only knew that she had acted.

But what truly caught her attention—what made her pause for a fraction of a second—was you.

You, who had remained still and silent throughout the entire ordeal.

Now, you finally looked at her.

Your eyes met hers, gaze unreadable, something flickering within them as you regarded her for a long, quiet moment.

A question that was never asked.

"What was that for?"

Wednesday had no answer.

"PLAN FOUR: Talk to her more! You need to talk to her more. Casual things. Nothing about death or destruction!" Enid announced, her hands gesturing wildly as if she were unveiling some grand strategy.

Wednesday gave her a flat look. "Both things that relate to her?"

Enid opened her mouth, then shut it again, blinking. "…Good point."

Wednesday had no trouble talking—when it mattered. When words were necessary, sharp, and deliberate. But the idea of casual conversation felt foreign, unnatural, something trivial and unnecessary. Words should serve a purpose, not be thrown into the void for the sake of social norms.

And that was how Wednesday found herself in botany class, standing beside you, a pair once again. It wasn’t surprising, everyone was too afraid to be partnered with Wednesday or You.

Oleander, a beautiful thing. Deceptive. Deadly. Wednesday could admire that. She could focus on that.

But instead, her mind was on another similar kind of poison. You.

She found her gaze drawn to you in spite of herself, taking in every precise movement, every quiet breath. There was something hypnotic about the way you worked, the way your fingers grazed the edge of a leaf without hesitation, the way you handled the plant as if it posed no threat to you at all. You were utterly unbothered, your focus entirely on the task, unaware—or perhaps unconcerned—with the way Wednesday was watching you.

Talk to her more!

Wednesday exhaled. This was ridiculous. But, if she was going to do this, she would do it on her terms. She picked up her shears, trimming a precise section of the oleander before finally speaking. “You work efficiently,” she observed.

You didn’t look up. “I prefer to get things done.”

It was a neutral response. Not unkind, not welcoming, but not dismissive either. An opening.

She debated her next words carefully. A compliment? An observation?

The silence stretched, and before she could overthink it further, she stated, “I assume your efficiency extends to more than just plants.”

This time, you did look up, your gaze meeting hers with mild curiosity. “It’s necessary.”

Wednesday tilted her head slightly. “For what?”

You hesitated. For a moment, she thought you wouldn’t answer. But then, you returned your attention to the oleander, carefully plucking away an unnecessary stem. “For surviving.”

Wednesday considered that answer. It was true, but also deliberately vague. You always did that—spoke just enough to satisfy a question, but never enough to be understood. It was a habit Wednesday recognized in herself, and that realization was... unsettling.

“Efficiency is a virtue,” she said finally, falling back into her work. “But perfection can be a limitation.”

You glanced at her, “What do you mean?”

Wednesday hummed, trimming a leaf between her fingers. “Perfection leaves no room for unpredictability. And predictability is fatal.”

You studied her for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It was simply an acknowledgment, a consideration of her words as something worthy of remembering. Wednesday found herself gripping her shears just a little tighter.

For the remainder of class, the conversation continued in fragmented moments—small remarks, simple exchanges. And though the air between you never lost its tension, it was less suffocating than before. You still spoke little, but so did she. In some twisted way, it felt like a mutual understanding.

When the bell rang, Wednesday watched as you collected your materials without a word and slung your bag over your shoulder and headed for the door, and before she even realized it, she was following.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, not consciously. But her feet moved before her mind could catch up, and soon enough, she had fallen into step beside you.

“You were avoiding striking me during our last match.”

You didn’t stop walking. You didn’t even flinch. But there was a flicker of something in your eyes when you looked at her, the kind of emotion that was impossible to decipher unless one knew where to look.

“Was I?”

“Yes,” Wednesday said, unwavering. “You had openings. You didn’t take them.”

For a moment, she thought you might deny it outright. But instead, you merely hummed in acknowledgment.

“You notice everything, don’t you?”

It wasn’t said with annoyance, nor admiration. Just another observation.

Wednesday tilted her head slightly. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Do you always follow people after class?”

Wednesday tensed. She should have anticipated that. But rather than offering an excuse, she merely met your gaze, unwavering. “No.”

You nodded once. “Alright.”

It was a deflection. But Wednesday let it slide, because this was the longest conversation she had ever had with you, and despite herself, she didn’t want it to end.

She realized, with no small amount of frustration, that Enid had been right. Small gestures, small conversations—they made a difference.

Wednesday did not remember deciding to walk here.

She had left her dorm long before the first light of dawn, her body moving with its usual rigid purpose, but for once, she had no clear objective. At least, not one she could immediately justify.

She had simply walked, following an unspoken direction until her feet slowed, her gaze lifting to find you seated beneath the same tree she found you last time.

You hadn’t noticed her—or at least, you didn’t acknowledge her. Your back rested against the rough bark, legs stretched out, one knee bent.

Your breathing was steady, deep, eyes closed as if even the end of the world couldn't disturb you.

It was a familiar kind of quiet, yet somehow one that unsettled her.

The early morning air stirred strands of your hair with each passing breeze gently. You looked… calm. Too calm.

Wednesday hated how long she stood there, watching you.

She had made progress, hadn’t she? You tolerated her presence, which was more than could be said for the majority of those who attempted to get close to you. Others received a wall of cold indifference, but Wednesday…

You spoke to her the most.

You weren’t warm, nor particularly friendly, but she never expected you to be. That wasn’t the goal. And yet, the knowledge that you were equally as tolerant of Enid gnawed at her. But that was different. Enid was persistent, impossible to push away. Wednesday had earned her place.

Hadn’t she?

She noticed the way your gloves—were worn from use. You had been working last night.

Hunting.

And now, she needed to confirm it. She needed to watch you. Study you. She needed to know. She already has seen you enough in action and yet she needed to confirm it with her own eyes. Your precision, your efficiency—the real you.

“Have you done staring?”

Her breath caught—just for a fraction of a second.

You still hadn’t opened your eyes. You hadn’t moved. But you had noticed her, as if you could sense her presence without ever needing to look.

Wednesday’s jaw tensed, irritation flaring at herself more than you. She had not intended to be caught so easily. “You would be none the wiser if you had simply remained silent.”

“I was hoping you’d go away,” you murmured. “Clearly, that was a mistake.”

Wednesday ignored the dry remark, stepping forward and lowering herself to sit beside you under the shade of the tree. She kept a careful distance—not enough to invade your space, but just close enough to make it clear she had no intention of leaving.

Your head tilted slightly in her direction, your eyes still closed. “I didn’t say you could join me.”

“I don’t remember asking your permission.”

There was a pause. Then, a slow exhale—not quite a sigh, but something close to it. You didn’t tell her to leave.

A small victory.

She forced her thoughts into order. Conversation. Small talk. That was the goal.

Wednesday glanced at you, considering her options. “Are you always this early?”

“I can ask you the same question.” you countered.

She had walked into that one. Annoying.

But then, after a pause, you added, “I don’t sleep much.”

Wednesday turned her head slightly toward you, watching the way your fingers curled against your knee, absentminded but controlled.

“Why?”

You exhaled slowly, tilting your head back against the tree trunk. “A habit.”

Vague. Unhelpful. But she didn’t press, not yet. Instead, she shifted tactics.

“You usually use techniques that aren’t standard in fencing. Some of your movements resemble kenjutsu, but they’ve been altered for a different style of combat.”

“You’ve been analyzing me.”

It wasn’t a question.

Wednesday didn’t bother denying it. “I analyze everyone.”

“Hm.”

She waited for you to shut down the topic, to divert the conversation elsewhere, but instead, you merely tilted your head toward her, finally cracking open your eyes. The sun had begun its slow ascent, catching against your irises in a way that made something shift uneasily in Wednesday’s stomach.

She ignored it.

“What about you?” you asked, voice low, almost absent. “Where did you learn?”

Wednesday blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift of focus. She had prepared for resistance, not reciprocation.

"Fencing is an important part of Addams family tradition. My Uncle Fester trained me before I ever set foot in a tournament. My father also contributed, but his focus was on dueling rather than form.”

You nodded slightly, as if that answer made sense to you. “Explains the way you fight.”

Wednesday hesitated, the conversation unfolding easier than she had anticipated. For once, it didn’t feel like pulling teeth.

“You must have learned a lot in H/n.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake.

Your expression didn’t shift but Wednesday felt the subtle shift in the air, like the sharp, invisible drop in temperature before a storm. Your gaze hardened, the once passive calm in your posture turning rigid.

“I never told you where I was from.”

There was no accusation in your voice, no outward hostility, but that made it worse. It wasn’t anger—it was scrutiny. You were assessing her, picking apart the misstep with a practiced, surgical precision.

Wednesday’s mind raced through possible responses, damage control, ways to steer the conversation away from the pit she had just dug herself into. But nothing would be enough. Lying was pointless, you would see through it instantly. But the truth was just as damning.

Finally, you leaned back against the tree again, expression unreadable. “So, you do your research.”

Wednesday clenched her jaw, frustration curling deep in her chest—at herself, at the situation, at the way your voice held no visible anger, just quiet, measured understanding.

“I do,” she admitted. Lying would be pointless.

You exhaled slowly, gaze turning back to the sky. “I figured as much.”

Wednesday watched you, unsure of what came next. You didn’t seem upset, but you weren’t brushing it aside either. You were merely… thinking.

Not forgiveness. Not acceptance.

Just… choosing to let it be.

Wednesday wasn’t sure which was worse.

PLAN FIVE: Ask her to the Raven!

Not this again.

She was certain she had made herself clear—she had no interest in this year’s Raven. No interest in its frivolous spectacle, the music, the pointless dress. It had been a waste of time last year, and it would be no different now.

“You are fabricating this to make me attend the Raven.”

Without hesitation, Enid shot back, “YES!”

Perhaps she can use this now. “I had to conduct research before asking you something.”

You remained still, watching her.

“And yet,” Wednesday continued, watching you carefully, “I found nothing.”

Even now, you gave nothing away. Your face remained unreadable, your posture relaxed in a way that was entirely too controlled. As if you had expected this, as if you had prepared for it.

Wednesday’s mind turned, examining every angle, every possibility.

“No history. No records before Nevermore.” She tilted her head, voice measured. “It’s as if you did not exist.”

“What did you want to ask me?”

A simple question. A direct invitation. And yet, Wednesday felt her mind stall for the first time in… longer than she cared to admit. She folded her hands in her lap, composing herself. “The Raven is approaching.”

You gave no reaction.

She tried again. “Nevermore’s annual formal gathering—”

“I know what the Raven is,” you interrupted, voice as impassive as ever. “Get to the point.”

Wednesday’s fingers curled slightly against the fabric of her skirt. “Enid is attempting to coerce me into attending.”

“Sounds like Enid. So what about it?”

She had rehearsed this. Thought through every possible phrasing, every logical approach. But as she sat here, faced with the actual moment, the words tangled themselves in knots before they could leave her tongue.

“I—” She stopped. Tensed. Then began again, voice flat. “It is a proposition of—” No. That sounded transactional.

A breath. A pause. A recalibration.

Why was this difficult? It was a simple inquiry. A proposition dictated by logic. She was merely extending an invitation. Nothing more.

She straightened her posture, collecting herself.

“I was considering—” No. Wrong. Start over.

Your silence was unbearable.

She exhaled sharply, jaw tightening.

“I am asking if you would go to the Raven with me.”

You did not react at first. Not visibly. You merely blinked once, slowly, before tilting your head, considering her in the way one might examine a riddle with an answer just out of reach.

Then, finally, your voice, calm and even. “I know you aren’t the socially gathering type. And neither am I. So why do you want to go there with me?”

Her first instinct was to craft a logical excuse. Something about observation. Something about data collection. But as she opened her mouth, the words felt thin, transparent, unworthy of the truth that pressed heavy against her ribs.

She exhaled quietly, accepting the inevitability of what came next.

“I want to know you.”

Your gaze flickered. Just barely.

“Know me?”

“…Know you.”

It felt like vulnerability.

Wednesday did not like the feeling of exposing herself like this. She was not used to it. But she could not bring herself to regret saying it.

You considered her words for a long moment.

Then, finally, you spoke. “Curiosity kills the cat, Wednesday.”

She felt it again. The way her name sounded from your lips. Not the way others said it—casual, indifferent, obligatory. No, there was weight to it. Something deliberate. And it affected her more than she cared to admit.

But she refused to let you see that.

"I am not afraid," Wednesday stated. "Are you?"

This time, you did smirk. Slight, but undeniable.

Then, her dark gaze locked onto yours, sharp and searching. "Are you?"

Wednesday felt a sharp, bracing satisfaction curl inside her, something darkly electric. You rarely gave people anything. But she had pulled it from you.

Again.

“I am not wearing any sparkling dress,” you said.

“I do not expect you to,” Wednesday responded immediately.

Your expression remained neutral, but something behind your gaze gleamed with consideration. It was impossible to tell what you were thinking.

Wednesday was patient. Mostly.

“So?” she asked, “What is your answer?”

You considered her, then exhaled slowly. “I'll go.”

She had won.

The Raven had already begun, the rest of the school had already begun making their way inside, laughter and muffled music spilling from the doors yet she remained where she was, waiting.

Waiting for you.

You had told her you would meet her right outside. You had given her your word. And yet, here she was—alone.

She wasn’t worried, of course. That would be absurd. But her fingers twitched at her sides, betraying the lingering frustration creeping in. It wasn’t like she had been standing here long. If anything, she had arrived early. Perhaps too early. But the idea of making you wait for her had been unacceptable.

And so, she had come before the arranged time, preparing herself for whatever was to come.

Her fingers twitched against the fabric of her dress. A new dress. Something Enid had forced her into acquiring, insisting that her usual attire was “criminally outdated” and that “if you’re going to court someone, you need to at least look like you put in effort.” Wednesday had wanted to strangle her.

Courtship. The mere thought of the word made her want to scoff. It was absurd. Yet, here she was, standing outside a school dance, waiting for someone. Waiting for you.

She had spent the week preparing—not that she needed to. She had already analyzed every potential outcome, calculated every possible scenario in which she might extract more information from you. She had thought about your answers, your reactions, your frustratingly unreadable expressions. And, though she hated to admit it, she had found herself wondering… how you would look tonight.

And now, as if summoned by the mere thought, she felt something.

Not the usual sense of awareness, not the subtle shift in the air or the telltale footsteps that always gave people away. No, this was… nothing.

Like an absence of presence.

A void in reality itself.

A shiver ran down her spine, and for the first time in a long time, she hesitated before turning.

You were standing there. Right behind her.

Her senses were honed, trained to detect the faintest disturbance in the air, the softest shift in movement. No one could sneak up on her. It was impossible. She hadn’t felt a thing.

She turned fully to face you, her breath steady, though her mind was not.

You were dressed in black.

A suit.

Not a dress. Not the standard gown the other girls had conformed to. A full, tailored suit—black from the crisp collar down to the polished shoes. The fit was precise, sharp lines and dark fabric making you look like you had stepped out of a world untouched by color. It suited you in a way that felt inevitable—as if anything else would have been unnatural.

Wednesday stared.

You looked—

No. She would not finish that thought.

Wednesday inhaled carefully, composing herself.

"You’re late," she said.

You merely blinked. "You’re early."

Wednesday scowled slightly. She should have expected that response. "I was beginning to wonder if you had changed your mind."

"I always keep my word."

With a quick inhale, she tilted her chin slightly, sharpening her gaze. “You do realize there was a dress code.”

You blinked at her, unbothered. “And?”

Wednesday had to fight the inexplicable urge to smirk.

“Most people would have at least tried to blend in.”

"Most people aren’t me."

That was an understatement.

Wednesday’s eyes flickered over you again, and for a moment, she swore she felt her own pulse betray her.

No.

She would not entertain these thoughts.

You exhaled softly, pulling her out of her reverie. “Are we going in, or do you just plan to keep staring at me?”

Wednesday’s spine stiffened instantly. “I wasn’t—”

You arched a brow, waiting.

She exhaled sharply. “Let’s go.”

You nodded, falling into step beside her as she moved toward the entrance.

Eyes.

It was just like last year. The moment she had entered, the weight of a hundred stares had settled onto her like a cloak. She had never cared about the scrutiny before—let them look, let them judge, let them fear. It had never mattered.

But tonight, something was different.

Tonight, the eyes weren’t only on her.

They were on you too.

The entire room seemed to shift the moment you stepped inside, as if the very presence of you disrupted the delicate balance of the event. Students who had been chatting freely just moments ago fell silent, their laughter fading into hushed whispers.

Some turned their heads quickly, pretending not to look, but their shoulders remained tense, their postures rigid. Others weren’t as subtle, their eyes wide, cautious, as if being caught staring too long might summon something unspeakable. And as if one accidental touch with you might be enough to disintegrate them.

No one had ever looked at her like that. People feared Wednesday for what she might do. But with you… Wednesday was sure they themselves didn't even know why they feared you.

Cowards.

She wondered if you noticed. If you cared.

Glancing to her side, she found you as unreadable as ever. Walking beside her with the same detached, effortless indifference, as if the entire world could set itself on fire and you wouldn’t so much as blink.

Had she ever touched you?

Not once.

Not while fencing, not during your so-called “training sessions” after sunfall. Even in proximity, you had always been… distant. And now, standing beside you, Wednesday found her gaze flickering downward—toward your hands.

You were wearing gloves. Dark, sleek, as always.

A part of her wondered if it was intentional. A precaution. A shield.

She had sometimes seen you without them, but not too much.

A fact that normally wouldn’t have mattered, but now settled in her mind like an itch she couldn’t quite reach.

She wondered what that might do. Would she see something? Feel something? Would it be cold? Warm? Would it give her a vision?

Would you let her?

"OH. MY. GOSH! There you are! Finally!”

Wednesday barely had time to react before she was ambushed by an overly pink werewolf.

Enid beamed up at her, practically vibrating where she stood. “You actually came! And—” She turned sharply, eyes locking onto you like a predator spotting new prey. “You actually came!”

You stared at her blankly. “Was I not supposed to?”

“No, no, you were, I just—wow.” Enid took a step back, arms crossing as she gave you an exaggerated once-over. “Okay, seriously? You really committed to the whole ‘color is evil’ thing, huh?"

You blinked at her, expression unchanging. “It’s a funeral theme.”

Enid hesitated, confused. “Wait, whose funeral?”

You tilted your head slightly. “Possibly yours if you keep talking.”

If Wednesday had ever doubted that someone could be even more socially intolerable than herself, you had long since proved her wrong.

Enid, being Enid, merely huffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Ha, ha, very funny. You and Wednesday are totally made for each other.”

Wednesday felt something at that but promptly crushed it into nonexistence.

“Seriously, though, you guys look cool tho. It’s like… Dark Princess and Mysterious Assassin Chic.”

You raised a brow. “That sounds ridiculous.”

Enid shrugged. “Yeah, well, I was gonna say ‘Goth Girlfriend and her Shadow’ but I figured Wednesday might actually kill me for that one.”

Wednesday’s glare was instantaneous. “Keep talking, and I just might.”

“Oh, hush.” Enid grinned. Then, in a move as seamless as if it were a natural part of the conversation, she threw in, “At least it’s better than last year, when you came with Tyler.”

Wednesday stiffened, but it was your voice that broke through first.

“Tyler?”

It was the first time you had asked anything about her past. Your tone remained the same—flat, impassive—but Wednesday noticed. The way your eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The way you processed the name, as if filing it away for later analysis.

“Oh, right,” Enid chirped. “I forgot, you weren’t here back then.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Tyler Galpin. The Hyde who was responsible for all the murders and Crackstone last year.”

You were silent for a moment, then, “Interesting choice.”

Flat. Emotionless. But Wednesday could feel the weight behind the words, the quiet judgment hidden beneath the surface.

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know he was the Hyde back then.”

Enid grinned. “Yeah, yeah. To be fair, it was a shocker. But I beat him, you know!” She puffed out her chest, absolutely radiating self-satisfaction. “Wolfed out for the first time and tore that guy apart!”

You tilted your head. “Really? You? With what? All your sunshine and rainbows?”

Enid gasped. “HEY.”

Wednesday almost—almost—smirked.

“No,” Enid huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “I beat him with friendship and LOVE!”

Wednesday caught it. Something flickering behind your eyes. It was gone in an instant, but she saw it. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t obvious. But Wednesday noticed.

She always noticed.

You repeated Enid’s words, but softer, almost… distant. “Friendship and love?”

“Duh!” Enid beamed. “What else are we supposed to fight for?”

Your reaction was brief—so brief that Enid didn’t even register it—but Wednesday did. The smallest flicker of something worn, something almost bitter.

And then, just like that, it was gone.

Your mask slipped perfectly back into place, and you gave a simple nod, offering nothing else.

But Wednesday had seen it. And wondered, what exactly had you lost?

Wednesday barely had a moment to register the scene before Enid latched onto her wrist and yanked her away from your side.

"Alright, spill it!" Enid practically vibrated with excitement as she dragged Wednesday toward a less-crowded corner of the room. "What’s the plan?"

"There is no plan," Wednesday deadpanned, prying her wrist free from the werewolf’s overly enthusiastic grip.

Enid gave her a knowing look. "But Plan Six is about—"

"I don’t care," Wednesday interrupted, voice sharp as a blade.

Enid narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “So you’re just gonna—what? Wing it?” She looked genuinely disturbed by the thought. “That’s so not like you, Wens.”

Wednesday’s patience was running thin. “I fail to see why my actions, or lack thereof, are of any concern to you.”

“Because you’re you, and she’s her, and you two are just—” Enid waved her hands wildly, as if trying to pluck the correct words out of thin air. “You know! And I know you’re, like, emotionally stunted or whatever, but don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it!”

Wednesday arched a brow. “Thought about what exactly?”

Enid let out a strangled noise, clearly resisting the urge to shake her. “You like her, Wednesday! And no, I don’t mean in your usual ‘I tolerate their existence more than most’ way. I mean actually like her.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. "Don’t be absurd."

Enid’s grin only widened. "Oh, please. You so do. And if you don’t do something about it soon, someone else will—"

"Let them try," Wednesday said flatly.

“Oh my god. You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” Enid clutched her chest dramatically.

Wednesday didn't answer.

"Wait, you really don't!" Enid gasped again and before she could revel in her discovery any further, the unmistakable sound of upbeat music shifting into something slower caught her attention, and she immediately perked up. “Ooh! This is my song! Okay, okay, I’ll leave you to your brooding or whatever, but just think about what I said, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and practically skipped off into the crowd, leaving Wednesday standing there, irritation simmering beneath her skin.

With a sigh, she turned back toward where she had last seen you, only for her gaze to freeze.

Bianca.

Interesting.

The siren stood before you, her arms crossed, her expression neutral yet unreadable. The two of you weren’t bickering.

Bianca had never liked you. That much had been clear from the very beginning.

And yet, here she was, standing in front of you, speaking in low tones that Wednesday couldn’t quite make out from this distance.

She had always assumed the hostility was mutual, a silent agreement between two people who simply had no desire to tolerate each other’s existence.

So why now?

Why this?

She had spent enough time around Bianca to recognize her mannerisms—the way she spoke when she was attempting diplomacy, the way she shifted when she was preparing to manipulate a situation.

This wasn’t that.

And she didn’t like it.

She was still debating whether she should intervene when an annoyingly familiar voice cut through her thoughts.

“So… you and Y/N, huh?”

Wednesday didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. Instead, she merely narrowed her eyes and leveled Xavier with a glare. "Leave."

Xavier, of course, completely ignored her warning.

"You know, I should’ve seen this coming," he mused, arms crossed, eyes flicking toward where you stood. "But, what can I say? It’s my bad for always falling for the odd, dark, unattainable ones."

Wednesday’s fingers twitched toward the knife strapped beneath her dress.

Xavier, either suicidal or just entirely too used to her homicidal tendencies, only smirked. "I guess she’s all yours then."

Wednesday had already reached for the knife when Xavier bolted.

Coward.

Her irritation barely had time to settle before her attention was drawn back to you—back to Bianca, who was still standing in front of you, speaking in low tones.

Wednesday moved closer.

“—guess we got off on the wrong foot," Bianca was saying. "Are we good now?”

You held her gaze for a moment before nodding.

"Since when did you two become acquaintances."

The words left her mouth before she could stop them, sharp and cutting as a blade, her presence slicing into whatever conversation had been occurring.

Both you and Bianca turned toward her at the same time.

There was no flicker of surprise in your expression as if you sensed her coming.

"We haven't."

She wasn’t sure which part of this conversation annoyed her the most—the fact that you had been standing here with Bianca in the first place, the fact that she had no idea what you had been talking about, or the fact that you seemed entirely unmoved by the situation while she, for some godforsaken reason, was very much not.

Bianca sighed, shifting her weight as she glanced between the two of you. “It’s nothing dramatic, Addams. We were just discussing how we don’t need to be at each other’s throats all the time. It's not like we are best friends now.”

"A riveting discussion, I’m sure," Wednesday said flatly.

Bianca rolled her eyes. "Relax, Addams. I’m not trying to steal your girlfriend."

There was a beat of silence.

Wednesday felt her jaw clench.

You merely blinked. "I didn’t know I was something to steal." Wait why didn't you deny the.. "girlfriend" part?

Bianca smirked. "Exactly my point."

Wednesday’s grip tightened at her sides. "If you’re done wasting both our time, I suggest you leave before I decide I’m in the mood for violence."

"Fine. I’ll let you two get back to your whatever this is." She sent you one last glance. "Just don’t make me regret this, Y/N."

"I probably would." you said flatly.

Bianca groaned before finally turning and walking off, disappearing into the crowd.

Wednesday exhaled slowly, turning to you fully now. You were watching her, gaze steady, unreadable as always.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, a new song started playing.

And still, you stood there, watching her.

And Wednesday too found herself uncertain of what to say.

You weren’t supposed to dance.

Yet there you were, standing alone in the eye of the storm, unmoving at first—unblinking, your gaze tethered to hers

You say you're not afraid to die. But take off the armor 'round your chest What's left inside?

It starts slow. A shift of your shoulders, the roll of your neck. Controlled. Calculated. The crowd doesn’t notice at first. But Wednesday does. The way your foot drags against the floor, deliberate, the way your spine curves—not yielding, but commanding.

Li-li-lion licking your blade Do you really bleed if it washes away?

The music grows teeth. The beat snaps, and you move with it.

Your arm jerks upward, before your body twists. Not fluid, not elegant

Take a ride, rough as you can Tell you a secret, right as your dogs are closing in

You were doing it to be visceral.

I like it when the bite marks cut through the skin

Your chest rises and falls with the rhythm, your fingers twitching, slicing through empty space. The lyrics carve into the air, and you let them shape you.

I like it when the bite marks cut through the skin.

Your head jerks to the side in sync with the words, as if something unseen has struck you. Then, a collapse—your body folds inward, a marionette with cut strings, only to snap back upright in the next breath.

A shadow unbroken.

Tell me the walls are closing in Into the fire and born again

Wednesday’s pulse hammered against her skull. She had never been one for frivolity, for mindless displays of social pleasantries. And yet, Her legs moved before she could rationalize it.

She stepped into the eye of the storm.

Taste the pain and drink it in I like it when the bite marks cut through the skin

The first onlookers take notice. A few heads turn. Murmurs.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the world condensed to the space between the two of you. You tilted your head, watching her approach, your lips barely parting as if in amusement.

A challenge.

Lou-louder the bark and the bigger the blade One seat on a throne, one foot in the grave

Wednesday’s body responded before her mind did. Her movements were sharp, calculated. The macabre fluidity of her limbs fell into step with yours, a duet that somehow, made perfect sense.

Lou-louder the moth then the bigger the flame Do you really bleed if it washes away?

Wednesday is struck with something she does not understand. You lifted your arms, crossing them over your chest in a sharp X before suddenly letting yourself drop.

For a second, Wednesday expected you to hit the ground.

But you were gone, as if the ground itself had opened to devour you.

Her breath hitched. She hadn’t seen where you had gone. It wasn’t possible.

Wednesday turned slowly, and there you were.

Wednesday felt something strange claw at her ribcage. It was not fear, nor disgust—she knew those feelings well. This was something else. Something far more dangerous.

Intrigue.

Fascination.

Desire.

You turned again, your body rolling, shifting—your hands dragging down your face as if peeling away a mask. Then you tilted your head, eyes locking onto hers once more.

I like it when the bite marks cut through the skin.

Your bodies circled, inches apart but never touching, two predators weaving between the spaces left by the other. When your head snapped to the side, Wednesday followed suit. When you twisted, she mirrored, but it was not mimicry. It was a battle. A silent war waged between motion and breath, between two creatures who did not yield.

Tell me the walls are closing in Into the fire and born again

Wednesday is struck with something she does not understand.

She knows of death. She has danced with it since childhood. But this? This is something else. This is not a dance. This is a ritual. A possession. And she is the one ensnared.

Taste the pain and drink it in.

She stepped forward.

You stepped back.

No—she would not allow it.

PLAN SIX: KISS!

Wednesday lunged, a sudden, sharp movement that brought her directly in front of you. For a moment, the two of you were impossibly close, the air thick with something electric, something raw.

She could feel your breathing, you could feel hers.

I like it when the bite marks

Your lips were too close... almost... almost brushing...

I like it when the bite marks cut through the skin.

You were gone.

Vanished into the crowd.

Wednesday stood in the wreckage of what remained. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Her fingers twitched at her sides. Wednesday remained standing in the same spot long after the music had faded, her breath just slightly uneven, her pulse just slightly too fast.

She despised you. She wanted more.

No word, no parting glance. Just—gone.

She should not care.

But her feet were already moving.

She scanned the crowd. The sharpness in her stare sent some students skittering out of the way, but she ignored them. Her focus was singular. Methodical. If you were going to disappear on her, then she would simply find you herself.

The first stop was Enid because Enid had an unfortunate tendency to be in everyone’s business. If anyone had seen where you had gone, it would be her.

The werewolf was perched by the refreshment table, downing an energy drink with alarming speed.

Wednesday wasted no time.

“Where is she?” she demanded.

Enid choked mid-sip, coughing as she wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” Wednesday snapped. “Where is Y/N?”

“I don’t know, she kinda just vanished? I was watching the whole time, and it was like one second she was there and then poof! Super ninja mode activated. It was actually kinda scary.”

Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Well,” Enid continued, her grin shifting into something more knowing, “you could always ask around. But considering how you two were dancing, I’m pretty sure she’s off somewhere sharpening a knife and brooding about you.”

Wednesday did not dignify that with a response.

The next stop was Eugene. She found him near the entrance, “Eugene.”

He flinched. “Oh, uh, hey Wednesday.”

“Where did Y/n go?”

Eugene looked at her like she had just asked him to walk into a hornet’s nest. “Uh… do I have to answer?”

Wednesday’s gaze sharpened.

“I-I mean, I don’t know! I saw her leave after the dance but—uh—I didn’t follow! She’s… kind of terrifying?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not in a bad way! I mean, okay, kind of in a bad way. But not, like, the murder-y bad way. Well, maybe the murder-y bad way. Are you sure you even want to find her?”

“Yes.”

Eugene swallowed.

Bianca was next, and Wednesday already anticipated the headache that would come with it. She found her near the courtyard, casually leaning against a stone pillar, talking to Xavier.

"Shit, you have that face on. The ‘I’m about to interrogate someone’ face. Am I gonna get arrested again? ” Xavier said as soon as he saw Wednesday.

"Where did Y/N go?" Wednesday asked completely ignoring Xavier.

Bianca arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Wow. No hello? No please?"

Wednesday's patience, thin at the best of times, was rapidly eroding. "I do not have time for pleasantries."

Bianca smirked. "Shocker."

Wednesday simply stared, unblinking.

With a dramatic sigh, Bianca relented. "Last I saw, she was heading outside. Maybe she needed air. Not that I blame her—this place reeks of teenage desperation."

It was the most useful information she'd received yet. Without another word, Wednesday turned.

"You're welcome," Bianca called after her.

She ignored it.

She had followed Bianca’s lead, stepping outside the hall without fully understanding why she was still searching for you.

Why was she looking for you?

The question clawed at her, demanding an answer she wasn’t prepared to give. Normally, when she pried into someone’s secrets, it was with the cold precision of a scalpel, detached, methodical, unyielding. People were puzzles to be solved, mysteries to be unraveled, nothing more. She had never once cared about their comfort, their feelings, or whether she had the right to pry. The idea of restraint was laughable.

But there was something different about this.

About you.

And then there was that moment—that nearly catastrophic, almost unforgivable moment—where the space between you had shrunk to nothing. Where she had nearly—

Her fingers twitched at her sides. She would not dwell on that.

Her gaze swept over the landscape, the silver-blue light of the moon illuminating every detail, but what caught her attention was the lack of light, a void, a shadow.

It slipped just at the edges of her vision, moving toward the forest. Almost imperceptible, but Wednesday had been watching.

You.

She recognized the way you moved—too fluid, too controlled, like a predator that knew exactly when to make itself known and when to disappear. Even now, you were almost gone. If she had blinked, she would have missed it.

Wednesday inhaled sharply and moved.

Her instincts screamed at her to be careful. She had seen firsthand what happened when someone tried to sneak up on you. Xavier almost learned it the hard way.

You were fast, impossibly so, and lethal when you needed to be.

Which meant that Wednesday had to be better.

She moved with practiced precision, keeping her distance.

Your black attire blended effortlessly into the darkness. More than once, she had to pause, reassess, find you again among the trees.

And Wednesday?

She was following a monster into the abyss. The thought should have unsettled her.

It didn’t. It never did.

Instead, her chest tightened with something else. Something she refused to name.

She moved faster.

Deeper into the forest.

Then—

You stopped.

Wednesday halted instantly, slipping behind the cover of a wide oak, sharp eyes watching as you stepped into a clearing.

At the center of it lay something wrong. Some sort of summoning circle. Its symbols twisted into unnatural shapes, burned into the ground with something that shimmered like embers.

You stood at the center, utterly unbothered.

For the first time since she had met you, Wednesday felt something close to unease.

The glow of the circle intensified, the embers shifting, moving, as if alive. It painted you in crimson light, casting harsh shadows over your face, making you look like something out of a nightmare. Or perhaps, something meant to hunt nightmares.

She had known that you were dangerous. That you were more than just another student at Nevermore. That you were something other.

But this?

This was confirmation.

This was proof.

Wednesday’s heartbeat remained steady.

She should have left.

She should have walked away, returned to the safety of the school, and let you do whatever it was you did when you vanished into the night.

But she didn’t.

Because she couldn’t.

She had spent so much of her life uncovering the grotesque, the horrifying, the things that lurked in the dark. And yet, for the first time, she found herself hesitating, not out of fear, not out of uncertainty, but because something else was clawing at the edges of her mind.

A hesitation she did not understand.

The circle ignited.

A rift tore through reality itself, opening into something that should not exist, a swirling abyss of pure darkness, something alive and moving, something that watched.

And you—

You were swallowed by it.

Wednesday’s breath hitched, but her body moved before her mind could catch up.

She leapt.

Into the dark.

The ground was cold beneath her.

Damp earth pressed against her palms, the scent of moss and decay thick in the air. Wednesday inhaled slowly, her lungs adjusting to the weight of it.

Her eyes opened to absolute darkness.

For a moment, she remained still, allowing her senses to recalibrate, to process. She was lying on her side, her body stiff from the impact of the fall—if it had even been a fall. Had she fallen? Or had she simply ceased to exist for a moment before reappearing here?

She had woken in a jungle. It felt different...

The thought sent irritation curling through her chest. She had never liked being disoriented. Uncertainty was an unfamiliar, unwelcome sensation. She pushed herself up, wincing as her limbs protested, but forced herself steady. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of unfamiliar flora curling at the edges of her senses.

This wasn’t Nevermore.

This wasn’t anywhere near Nevermore.

Where are you?

Wednesday stood, brushing the dirt from her skirt. The realization settled in her chest like a slow-moving storm—she had no idea where she was.

She turned, eyes scanning the darkness, but it was too deep, too complete. The moon was absent here. No soft glow to guide her, no stars above, she couldn't even see your footsteps.

She couldn’t even be sure how long she had been unconscious.

That should have unsettled her. It didn’t. It never did. Panic was for the weak.

She would find you. She moved carefully, her fingers brushing against the rough bark of trees as she navigated blindly. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Time felt different here. Stretched, distorted.

And then—

A glimmer.

Faint. Just at the edges of the horizon, cutting through the trees.

Light.

Wednesday’s pace quickened, her steps deliberate but silent as she pushed through the thick foliage. The jungle began to thin, the oppressive darkness easing as she approached a clearing.

And there it was.

A house.

Not a decrepit ruin, not some abandoned structure swallowed by time, but a home.

Warm light spilled from the windows, illuminating a well-kept courtyard. The architecture was sturdy, lived-in, its exterior worn with time but undeniably occupied. The furniture on the porch, the faint glow of a lantern swaying in the breeze—it all spoke of something human.

And then—

You.

Standing just outside the house.

Wednesday froze, pressing herself against the nearest tree, her breath slowing.

What was this place?

What were you doing here?

Before she could begin to piece it together, the door creaked open.

A man stepped out.

Tall, bearded, his eyes sharp as they settled on you. Behind him, a woman lingered in the doorway, a small girl at her side.

A family.

Wednesday’s breath slowed, her fingers curling against the bark of the tree she had hidden behind.

She watched.

She waited.

And she listened.

"You are her, aren’t you?"

The man’s voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—a weight, an understanding. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t anger. It was acceptance. Like a man who had spent years looking over his shoulder, only to finally turn around and see the shadow looming over him.

You did not answer.

He sighed, exhaling as if he had already made peace with what was to come. "I thought you would be older…"

The moment the words left his lips, Wednesday watched as you lifted your hand, your katana materialized in your grip. Wednesday felt her breath still in her chest.

It was happening again. That pull. That same, dark magnetism that had drawn her to you in the first place, something deeper than fascination—a warning.

"Tell your daughter to go inside," you said, your voice calm, cutting, spoken with the certainty of someone who had already seen the end of this story. "You don’t want her to see this, Kalzorran."

The man flinched. Visibly. As if the name itself had sharp edges, slicing through the years he had tried to bury it beneath.

"I left that name," he muttered, his jaw tightening. "That life. Long ago."

"Yet, you live free of consequences."

"There is no life free of consequences from him!" Kalzorran snapped, his voice suddenly raw, desperate, heavy with something dangerously close to fear. "I escaped. I earned it. We all did."

"You have lived free enough," you said. "Lived good enough. But it's time you returned to him. Keep your part of the deal."

Wednesday observed everything—the shift in his stance, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands hovered near his sides like a man prepared to either fight or plead.

“Papa?”

The girl.

Wednesday saw something shift in his face.

"Get her inside, Laura," he ordered, his voice firm but not unkind.

His wife hesitated, sadness pulling at her features. She understood. She knew what was about to happen.

But she obeyed.

Kalzorran exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face before letting out a bitter chuckle.

"You," he muttered. "You are his greatest hunter, aren’t you? Death's very emissary."

Wednesday felt her heart slow. She saw the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides, the way his throat bobbed as if he was trying to swallow something heavy.

"You alone, all by yourself… hunted so many of us," Kalzorran continued, his voice quieter now. "Killed our greatest defenders. No other hunter has done that. Ever." He let out another hollow laugh, shaking his head. "You made us all go back into hiding, living like animals again."

You said nothing.

You only stood there, katana in hand, the blade reflecting the dim light.

Kalzorran’s voice turned sharper. "So you have potential. More than any of us. More than me. And you sold your soul for it, just like we did." His gaze locked onto you, something desperate, something searching flickering behind his eyes. "For what? Power? Wealth?"

"Revenge." Your answer was immediate.

Wednesday felt her breath catch.

The word landed with the weight of a tombstone.

Kalzorran’s lips parted slightly, his expression unreadable. He let out a slow, exhausted exhale before shaking his head.

"And was it worth it?" he asked. His voice was softer now, almost... mournful. "Tell me, oh great huntress... how much of his soul, his torment did he give you for yours? Maybe a handful from his billions?"

There was no hesitation.

"Half."

Kalzorran went completely still.

For a moment, there was no sound but the distant hum of the jungle, the whisper of leaves rustling in the wind.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"...What?"

"Half." You repeated.

Wednesday watched as the color drained from the man’s face. His bravado wavered, his stance stiffened—not in preparation for a fight, but in something closer to dread.

Kalzorran staggered a step back, his breath coming out uneven. "That's not possible…" He swallowed, his expression flickering between disbelief and something far worse—recognition.

"No…" He shook his head. "No, that would mean… you…" His eyes widened. His lips parted, struggling to shape the words he didn’t want to say.

"The prophecy…" he whispered. "You… you are…"

His eyes widened and Wednesday saw fear. Not the fear of death. Not the fear of you. But the fear of what you were.

"Lucifer's chosen one…"

She only stared. It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t make sense. The pieces didn’t fit—except they did.

The shadows. The power. The way you moved, the way you hunted, the way people feared you in ways they couldn’t explain.

Lucifer.

The Devil.

You were—

"I am the Maiden of Death."

[End note: Yeah, things are gonna get real from here lol. Enid wasn't kidding when she said "She’s not just like Wednesday. She’s way scarier" Comment who would win a fight Her Heartbeat's Y/n or Tmod's Y/n 😂 pookie y/n vs spooky y/n.]

taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @kingofthings2 @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax @ognenniyvolk @mally-ka @protozoario @machyishere @freakshow2501 @101rizzlrr @casbrawel @jinxslapdog @just-zy @gray-cheese @hellenheaven @cheerlanader @pikachooo3 @jennaswifey @thyhooligans @caffeine-pup @gayerthanmylittleponys @sabrinasgirlfren @neoeleoo @deflatedducky

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rieamena · 3 months ago

Text

two plus two equals six

nerd!takuma ino & popular-ish!fem!reader

contains... both of you being absolute losers and incredibly embarrassing. that's about it.

word count: 9.4k (its been a while since i've written something this long...)

riea's comments: it's been a terrible couple of days but this idea really stayed in my head and i really had to act on it. idk if its one of my best works but i still like it! i will prove my spot as the mayor of takuma city!!!

technically, you weren't supposed to bother him. something about threatening a restraining order but a threat is really just empty words, amiright?

"hey…," you called out towards the man just two feet in front of you, as a result of you sneakily sliding into the seat across from him at the cafe table he sat at. your lips hung on that final syllable, really stretching out that "eyyy". "you're in my gen chem right?" the harmonic clink of your bangles rang through the space you occupied as you focused on making your voice sound as sweet and sultry as possible

the man in question, y'know, the ones your friends call p.f.b.b.. the p.f.b.b. thing was all credits to you of course. every time you talked about that day's writing or chemistry lecture, he was always mentioned as just that: pretty face black beanie, even though "pretty face black beanie" never looked your way once. it was several continuous moments of pure delusion, your pure delusion

p.f.b.b. glanced up at you and gave a small head nod before turning back to his laptop. it had a clear case with a bunch of stickers from bands you didn't recognize amongst other things you assumed he liked. "of course you are! the chemistry between us is just so genuine maybe its cause you're such a gentleman!"

a giggle escaped you as you continued talking. "see what i did there? the gen from genuine and the gen from gentleman both correspond to the gen from gen chem. which i know means general by the way, i'm not—"

"are you okay?"

p.f.b.b.'s eyes were now trained on your form, looking with an expression you couldn't discern as anything but pure concern. but of course, for you, that meant something completely different. under his gaze, you felt your cheeks heat up and you began to fidget. "p.f.b.b., stop looking at me like that! you're making me shy…"

it was silent for a few seconds before he spoke. "why do you keep calling me that?"

"i'm sorry?" you tilted your head a bit

"this is maybe the third or fourth time you've called me p.f.b.b.," he takes a sip from his coffee cup before continuing to type away on his laptop

i've spoken to you before??? is what you thought

and its also what you said.

"well yes," he started, gaze never leaving the blue light of his device, "like that time i answered professor's question and you said 'wow p.f.b.b. you're so smart!'. or that other time when i picked up your pencil case for you as i was leaving the lecture hall. or when—"

"okay i get it! i seriously don't remember that happening at all though… maybe i should start taking memory pills…" you muttered

"i know you're popular and stuff but we're in university now. the bullying thing is outdated and super uncool."

you had to take a couple of moments to fully grasp what he was saying. he thought you were bullying him. he thought you were a bully. and worst of all, he thought you were uncool. your body shivered at that thought and a pit formed in your stomach

"wait—!" you exclaimed, even though he wasn't going anywhere, "first off, i'm not bullying you! the p.f.b.b. thing is an inside joke—"

"am i in on the joke?"

you froze in place. he got you there. "well no—"

"exactly. move to the second thing please." he bluntly stated as he took another swig of coffee

"okay um, i'm not uncool! i'm actually really cool. and i wouldn't consider myself to be popular either!" you scrambled to find your words and for each syllable that you said, you felt that pit in your stomach growing bigger

"everyone in the school knows you. you're popular." he said as he reached into his messenger bag, pulling out glasses and putting them on

you usually would be entranced, but you had way bigger fish to fry. "i—i can't be popular! what if someone asks me for the best date spots, or amazing places to eat, or secret secluded areas for a bit of privacy!? i'm not from here! i wouldn't know! and—and then i'll look like a failure! i'll look like a loser! p.f.b.b. i can't!—wait."

it was only when you stopped talking that he looked up from his laptop, "what…?"

you'd never noticed it before but his voice was really nice, almost to the point where even you would shut up just to hear him talk about any topic that came to his mind

"are you from here?"

"uh, yeah? i was born and raised in this area. why?" p.f.b.b raised his eyebrow at your sudden question to which you sighed in response. "oh nothing…," you cupped your hands on your jaw and looked out a nearby window. "i just wish a local, y'know, someone who's lived here all their life and was born and raised here, knows all the ins and outs of the city…, yeah just wish someone like that would show me around. i'm still new here…"

"well, i hope you find that person."

your eyes snapped open to see him all packed up, headphones on, and that suspiciously never-ending coffee cup in hand. "bye for now."

sitting in shock was all you could do. and sit you did. a calm five or so minutes had passed before you noticed something shiny in your peripheral. a card, but not just any card, a pokémon card, but not just any pokémon card, an ultra rare pokémon card at the back of a phone, but not just any phone, p.f.b.b.'s phone

you struck gold. pretty face black beanie will certainly be looking for this soon enough, and then you'll be there to swoop in and save the day. and it'll go something like this…

"ugh, where is that thing!" p.f.b.b. mutters frustratingly

"what thing?" you say sweetly, batting your eyelashes

"my phone. i must've misplaced it."

"oh perhaps…" you walk over to where he's standing, his phone in hand, "is this your phone?" you look up at him cutely

"yes! this is my phone! you found it! how can i ever repay you?"

"oh… you don't have to. i was just looking out for you…"

"i know! let's get married!"

"well if you insist…"

"of course! i love you!"

cue flowers and glitter and sparkles

you giggled from how creative and vivid the scene was but unfortunately that sound broke you from your delusion and brought you right back to the real world

"i have p.f.b.b.'s phone." you said flatly, opening the door to your shared apartment. shouts of "what?!" and "huh??!" filled the space as you set down your things and laid on the couch. your best friends quickly flooded the living room, throwing questions at you

"ladies, ladies, please. one at a time."

nobara hit your thigh, "stop acting so high and mighty! how did you get his phone?"

mimiko massaged the area as she listened to you, "so long story short, we were talking at a cafe and then he left but forgot his phone so i just picked it up!"

"so… you stole his phone." nanako stated

"no. he left it and i picked it up."

"wait— don't you know his schedule?" nobara mentioned, resting her head on the plush couch, "shouldn't you have been able to give it back to him?"

"well no… i'm not a stalker! i just have general knowledge of when and where his classes will be during the week."

"so why didn't you give it back to him, instead of stealing it?" mimiko teased, now kneading at your calves

"not you too, mimi!" you whined, "like i said, i didn't steal his phone! he left it on the cafe table and i picked it up!"

their voices mixed together to try and get the same two words through that thick skull of yours

"that's theft!"

the arguing of you and your roommates concerning your concerning ethics filled your ears, preventing you from hearing anything else. especially that banging on the front door

nanako shushed you all, bringing her voice to a barely audible whisper, "do you guys… hear that?"

thump. thump. thump.

"its probably one of your packages," nobara mentioned, earning an enlightened nod, "you seriously have a shopping addiction."

the shopaholic stood up and walked over to the door, still whispering, "you're one to talk!" you, nobara, and mimiko watched on as nanako's hand slipped over the door handle and turned it open. you swore that the door wasn't even open for a full five seconds before it was slammed shut. "it's a man."

the four of you exchanged confused looks. "yeah… maybe it's the delivery man…? check for a package," you said reassuringly. the door opens and it closes. nanako's voice right after. "no package."

"well… uh… what does he look like? maybe he's returning something one of us misplaced?" mimiko stammered, feeling the tension in the air rise at the unexpected stranger. the door opens again and it closes again. "brown hair. brown eyes. he's kinda emo looking…"

"spencer's emo or hot topic emo?"

"spencer's."

"wait!" you realized, practically falling over yourself as you ran to the door and pulled it open, "its–!"

"uh, hi..." you said, voice suddenly small compared to your usual playful demeanor. he was standing right outside your apartment door, looking more tired than annoyed, though the crease in his brow said he was definitely annoyed

"hey," he replied, with little emotion. his eyes briefly flicked to your roommates huddled behind you, who had all gone suspiciously silent. "you have my phone."

you unfortunately understood his intentions of finding where you live. it wasn't to ask you on a date, or to take you up on that offer you made earlier, it was to get his phone. you could've lied and said you didn't have it but…

"i do!" you held it up triumphantly like some kind of trophy, though the look on his face immediately made you regret it. "...but i swear, i wasn't trying to steal it or anything!"

his eyebrow raised slightly, and for a second, you thought he might actually laugh. instead, he sighed and reached out his hand. "can i have it back?"

"of course," you said quickly, but just as you extended it toward him, you froze. "wait! how do i know this is really your phone?"

"i'm sorry?" he blinked, looking somewhere between incredulous and exhausted. "you know it's my phone. you picked it up."

"yeah, but..." you stepped back slightly, holding it just out of reach. "what if it's not your phone, and you're just some random guy who also happens to wear a black beanie and drink coffee in moody cafes?"

your roommates groaned audibly from behind you, and you heard nobara mutter something like she's impossible under her breath

p.f.b.b., stared at you for a long moment before pinching the bridge of his nose. "okay. fine." he held out his hand again, palm up. "ask me something only i'd know if it's my phone."

you paused, scrambling for a question. "uh... what's on the back of your phone case?"

"a meowscarada pokémon card. holo, rare," he said without missing a beat. "which you clearly already saw, since you're holding it."

damn. he had you there.

"okay, okay," you relented, placing the phone in his outstretched hand. "i believe you. say no more."

he chuckled softly—barely audible, but enough to make your heart do a little somersault. "thanks. i appreciate you picking it up. i was worried i'd have to replace the card."

before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "you must really like pokémon, huh?"

"it's nostalgic," he admitted, remembering his childhood. "my brother and i used to play together when we were kids."

your lips curved into a grin. "that's cute. guess you're not as emo as you look."

his head tilted slightly at that, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "guess not. anyway..." he glanced past you at your still-curious roommates. "thanks again. i should go."

"wait!" you called after him as he started to turn. he stopped, looking at you expectantly. "how do you know where i live? do you live around here or something?"

"i… uh… live just over there," his thumb pointed behind him and you followed that direction to…

the unit right across from yours.

703.

"what?!" you gasped, "how come you never said anything? plus, i never see you in the mornings? how is this possible?!"

"one, we don't know each other well enough yet to know where the other lives," p.f.b.b. scrolled through his missed messages while he continued, "and two, i make sure to leave early and come back late every day just so i can avoid you."

grumbling, you wanted to slam the door in his face again but remembered that you had to choose peace. "that's great! i hope you're happy!" aaaand you slammed the door anyway

yet. we don't know each other well enough yet.

"oh p.f.b.b~!" nanako swooned

"oh [name]~!" nobara giggled

"insert kissing sounds and the actors are running their hands over the other's body."

"stop that!!"

music was blasting and your spirits were up. you were practically skipping to your next class. that was… until you caught sight of a familiar head of blonde behind the granite fountain

"uncle ken!" you called out, rounding the fountain's corner

"hello, [name]. what brings you here?" the well-composed man paused his previous conversation, giving his research assistant a silent apology while he focused on you

you nodded to p.f.b.b. before answering kento, "nothing much! just walking to my next class,"

"uncle…?" p.f.b.b questioned under his breath

unfortunately for him, his mentor picked up on it. "my apologies, i should introduce you two," kento turned towards the other man who seemed to regret his decision of speaking his thoughts, "ino, this is [name]. her parents and i are close so, naturally, she calls me her uncle. and—"

kento spun back to you, using his hand to motion towards "ino". you noticed a bracelet adorning his right hand. kento doesn't like wearing anything that's not a watch and it looks handmade and those colors… yellow, blue, black and brown??? how odd… "[name], this is takuma ino. he's been my research assistant for two years."

it was kind of weird to realize that p.f.b.b.'s name wasn't… well— p.f.b.b. like, he has a whole name: takuma ino. it hung on your lips and your tongue savored the taste. "hi," you spoke, giving ino a small wave. "hey," he responded, parroting your motions

"was that what you were working on at the cafe yesterday? some data stuff?"

"uh…, yeah. yeah i was."

kento silently watched this happen and even he was uncomfortable. there was a slight tension in the air. it was missable but apparent enough if you looked for it. he cleared his throat softly, bringing your attention back to him. "how are your parents?" he asked.

"they're good," you replied, smiling, though your voice carried a slight hesitation. "they always ask about you, by the way. mom wanted me to tell you that you're still her favorite."

kento allowed a rare chuckle, shaking his head. "i'm flattered, but i imagine that makes your dad roll his eyes."

"it does." you laughed

"speaking of family," you continued, "my brother is getting discharged from the military soon! and we're planning to have a little get together or something. nothing too crazy, but it'll be our first one together since he left and i know how much he loves you so…" your voice trailed off, hoping that the silence was strong enough to carry your unspoken words

"i understand. of course i'll be there."

kento smiled when he saw you beaming, on the verge of jumping up and down from happiness, and from the corner of your eye, you swear that you saw the corner of a lip curl up from that "ino"

"great—oh shoot—!" you checked the time on your phone and realized that… if you didn't go now, you'd be late. and that professor does not play. you showed up three minutes late to one of his lectures and he basically publicly humiliated you. "i gotta go but text mom and dad about it, okay uncle? bye now! bye ino!"

as you speed walked away, you felt ino's eyes lingering on you. a soft chuckle escaped your lips. takuma ino—you liked the way it sounded

the campus library was unusually quiet for a wednesday night, the usual hum of late-night chatter replaced by the occasional sound of a book being flipped or the muffled footsteps of a librarian making their rounds. you had no plans to be productive tonight; in fact, you'd come here specifically to procrastinate. or, more accurately, to bother someone

your target was easy to spot, tucked away in the far corner of the library like a hermit hiding from civilization. p.f.b.b was hunched over his notebook, one earbud in, one out, the faint sound of rock music drifting in the air around him

you made a beeline for him, sliding into the seat across the table before he could even process what was happening. "fancy seeing you here," you whispered conspiratorially, even though this was his obvious habitat

he didn't even look up, just sighed. "you're aware this is a library, right?"

"and you're aware you're in my study spot, right?" you countered, setting your bag down with an exaggerated thud

finally, his eyes flicked up to meet yours, unimpressed as always. "you… study?" before you could fight back, he continued, "anyways… pretty sure i've been coming here since the semester started, so if anything, this is my study spot."

"well that's too bad for you because i've been coming here since the first day i set foot on this campus," you shot back with a grin, leaning forward on your elbows. "but i'm willing to negotiate. how about we share?"

p.f.b.b. stared at you before shaking his head and returning to his notes. "as long as you don't talk too much."

"me? never."

silence settled between you for a few moments, a fragile truce held together by his focus and your determination not to annoy him too much. but that didn't stop you from sneaking glances at his notes

"why are you studying organic chem?" you asked after a while, squinting at the complicated diagrams on his page. "i thought we were suffering through general chem together."

"because i'm actually trying to graduate," he replied flatly

"well, me too," you said with a dramatic sigh, leaning back in your chair

he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, finally setting his pen down. "if you're not here to study, what are you here for?"

you grinned, pulling a pack of gummy bears out of your bag and sliding them across the table toward him. "to make sure you don't pass out from starvation, obviously."

he looked at the gummy bears, then at you, his expression unreadable. after a beat, he shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "you're weird, you know that?"

"compliments will get you everywhere," you said, plucking a gummy bear from the pack and popping it into your mouth

for the rest of the night, you sat across from him, not saying much but somehow managing to get under his skin with every little comment or movement. oddly enough, seeing him work made you itch to do some studying of your own. and when he finally packed up to leave, muttering something about having an early class, he didn't tell you to leave him alone or call you annoying

instead, he paused just before he walked away, turning back to you with a bemused look

"thanks for the gummy bears."

"anytime— wait! aren't we going the same way…? wait for me!" you scrambled to pack up your pencils and books, stuffing them in your bag, not realizing that p.f.b.b—i mean— ino, was kinda, sorta, maybe, if you had asked him he'd say "no", but from what i saw, he was… waiting for you…

"then move faster, idiot."

you walked through the halls, passing numerous rooms, a small skip in your step. your body froze as you recalled a certain room's number, kento's research lab. walking back to where it was and peeping through the windowed door, you saw that it was… organized chaos. papers and binders were stacked, whiteboards covered in dense equations, and the faint scent of coffee could be smelled from outside the door. looking closer, you could see someone hunched over a desk, scribbling something on a notepad. ino.

you twisted the handle of the door, opening it with a push, "tough work?"

ino looked up from his desk, blinking at you in mild surprise. his hair was slightly disheveled and rid of that beanie, and there was a smudge of something that looked suspiciously like marker on his cheek

"i'm fine," he said, though the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. "really. i've got it handled."

you raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. "you're drowning in… whatever this is. don't worry about it, i'll just provide extra assistance."

he groaned, leaning back in his chair. "seriously, you don't have to. it's not a lot of work."

the phrase held so much irony considering there were sheets upon sheets of paper, and towers of that. you guessed he realized his small lie once he glanced around the room

ino sighed but didn't argue further, instead gesturing to the mountain of work in front of him. "fine. if you're so eager to help, you can start with that pile over there."

you pulled up a chair beside him, scanning the papers and the spreadsheet open on his laptop. "okay, let's see what we're working with."

as you both settled into the task, the room grew quieter, save for the sound of typing or the rustle of papers

"you're surprisingly good at this," ino said after a while, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye

"surprisingly?"

he winced. "i didn't mean it like that. just… i didn't expect you to pick it up so quickly."

"thanks for the backhanded compliment," you said dryly, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips

he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "sorry. i meant it as a real compliment. you're making this way easier."

"you're welcome," you said, turning back to the spreadsheet. "but seriously, how have you two been doing this without losing your minds?"

"coffee," he said immediately

you snorted. "yeah, i can tell. your bloodstream is probably ninety percent caffeine at this point."

he smirked, but the teasing in his expression softened into something more genuine. "it's been… a lot. nanami keeps me grounded, though. he's really good at this kind of thing."

"yeah, he is," you said, pausing for a moment before adding, "but so are you."

ino blinked, caught off guard. "me?"

"yes, you," you said, glancing at him. "you're smart, ino. you don't give yourself enough credit."

he looked at you for a moment, his usual demeanor towards you faltering. "thanks," he said softly

the moment lingered longer than either of you expected, the air between you feeling just a bit heavier

the hours passed in a steady rhythm of work and banter sprinkled in, and by the time the sun began to set, the two of you had cleared more than half of the tasks kento had left behind

"see?" you said as you leaned back in your chair. "teamwork makes the dream work."

ino laughed, shaking his head. "alright, fine. you win. maybe having you here wasn't the worst thing."

"don't get too used to it," you teased, grabbing your bag. "next time, i might just let you suffer alone."

he playfully shot you a look while stretching in his chair, "hey, how about i show you around."

"what? are—are you joking?"

he got up and packed his bag with never before seen speed, "yeah. i am."

"you—!"

"follow me."

ino led the way out of the building, his energy contagious despite the long day you both had. the evening air was cool and refreshing, the city humming quietly as the golden glow of the setting sun bathed everything in a warm light

"i know this great spot," he said with a grin as he walked slightly ahead, hands casually stuffed in his jacket pockets. "you've been here for a while, but have you actually seen the good stuff?"

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "define 'good stuff.'"

he smirked over his shoulder. "you'll see."

as you followed ino down the bustling streets, the city seemed to transform as it got darker. neon lights flickered to life, illuminating the shop windows and casting colorful reflections on the wet pavement from an earlier drizzle. the aroma of street food mingled with the faint scent of rain, creating a vivid tapestry of sights and smells

"so," you began, dodging a biker weaving through the crowd, "what's the first stop on this magical mystery tour of yours? please tell me it's food. i'm starving."

ino grinned, gesturing dramatically toward a food cart that had a line of eager customers. "you, my friend, are about to experience the best takoyaki this city has to offer."

"oh, come on," you teased, falling in step beside him. "isn't that what everyone says about their favorite food cart?"

"don't disrespect taro-san like that," ino shot back, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "this man has been perfecting his craft since before i could hold chopsticks."

moments later, you stood together, balancing plates of piping hot takoyaki drizzled with sauce and topped with dancing bonito flakes. ino took a bite, his expression almost reverent. "see? what did i tell you? food of the gods."

you took a bite, and your eyes widened. the crisp shell gave way with a soft crunch, revealing the molten, creamy filling inside. it was so warm it nearly melted on your tongue, a perfect blend of savory depth and a subtle sweetness that made your mouth water instantly. the octopus at the center was tender, just the right amount of chewy, and so fresh it almost seemed to bring a whisper of the ocean with it. the sauce on top was like a burst of fireworks—sweet and tangy, with a smoky undertone that paired flawlessly with the creamy mayo drizzled alongside it

you had to pause for a second after swallowing, just to appreciate it. the warmth lingered in your mouth, and you already knew one bite wouldn't be enough. within seconds the entire thing was gone, but you couldn't give ino the satisfaction of being right

"it was alright i guess." you shrugged, "i suppose you're not as full of it as i thought."

"right…," ino said with a suspicious grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow. "stick with me and i'll make you a connoisseur."

he didn't waste any time bringing you to the next point of interest, grabbing your hand with his and dragging you to a small, secluded alley lined with string lights and small artisan shops. it was beautiful, to say the least

"it's… quieter here."

"yeah," ino agreed, his voice softer now. "this is one of my favorite spots. it's like the city pauses for a second."

you glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes softened as he looked around. "you come here often?"

"used to, back when i needed to think. or when i was avoiding studying," he admitted with a sheepish grin

"you? avoid studying? how unlikely…" you sneakily caught a glance at your still interlocked hands, noticing a small, oddly colored, handmade bracelet around ino's wrist. but it seems you were staring at it for far too long

"oh! sorry!" he stuttered, pulling his hand from yours, and bringing it to his chest. you immediately felt the slight chill of the night but still flashed a bittersweet smile that conveyed something of a don't worry about it. out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the shops practically twinkling. getting a closer look, your wallet itched once you saw the array of jewelry and hair accessories. it was sorted by color and then by type, gold earrings on the far left and silver necklaces on the far right. but you were inexplicably drawn to one item: a hair clip with four small, white seashells on it

"that one?"

ino's voice next to you made you jump slightly. giving him a small hit on his shoulder, you followed his finger to the item you were just admiring. "yeah, that one. it's really pretty, isn't it?" ino hummed in response, surprised to see you turn away from it and walk down the alley instead

"but…, maybe i'll get it another time."

after a minute or so of window shopping the rest of the stores, ino caught up to you. "next up is the park. you can't say you've really seen the city until you've walked through it at night."

once you got closer, ino pointed at the beautifully lit area in the distance. lanterns illuminated the paths, and the sound of a bubbling fountain echoed softly. children chased each other, their laughter carrying through the crisp air, while couples strolled hand in hand. ino brought you to a bench overlooking a pond, the moonlight reflecting off its surface like a scene from a painting

"alright, i'll give it to you," you said, leaning back and stretching, stomach craving that takoyaki from earlier. "you weren't kidding. this is incredible."

"see?" ino said with a smirk, leaning back beside you. "i'm full of surprises. and speaking of that… here." ino reached into his left pocket, pulling a small item out, and pushing it into your hands

staring down at it, you realized it was the seashell hair pin you were eyeing from earlier. overrun with happiness, you flung your arms around ino, showering him in thank you's. pulling away and on the edge of bouncing in your seat, you slipped it into your hair, looking at ino for validation

"how does it look?"

oh. oh.

she's… beautiful. though, i've always known that…

thanking the cashier and gathering your bags, you made a beeline for the exit. you see, you were trying to make it home as quickly as possible because it was friday and you and your roommates always watched a specific show on friday nights. you guys ordered in and it was just amazing, until nanako said that she was craving your cooking, everyone agreed, and then you somehow lost the four way rock, paper, scissors on who goes to the store to get the ingredients. so here you were, standing under the awning of the nearby grocery store, bags in hand, watching the wall of rain as it drenched the street. the rain that wasn't in the forecast and the kind of downpour that left everyone scrambling for cover

great. just great.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a text from kento

kento: the rain was unexpected. are you alright?

you sighed and quickly typed back

you: yeah, just stuck waiting for it to stop. don't worry, i'll figure it out

after a couple minutes of you standing and contemplating your next move, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb, and the passenger window rolled down, revealing p.f.b.b.'s grin that even though you've seen about three times, you'd never get used to

"need a ride?" he called out, leaning casually over the center console

you blinked at him, caught off guard. "what are you doing here?"

"i was with nanami when he mentioned you," he said, shrugging. "said you were stranded. figured i'd play the hero."

you tried to cross your arms but the weight of the bags were kind of weighing them down, "play the hero driving kento's car? do you even have your license?"

"hey—," he explained, raising his voice just a bit, "it may be nanami's car but he said i could take it! and yes, i do have my license!"

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "alright, fine. but what about these?" you gestured to your grocery bags

"pop the trunk," he said, pressing a button on the dash. the trunk lid opened smoothly. "problem solved."

with a sigh, you stepped into the rain long enough to stow your bags before climbing into the passenger seat, shaking droplets off your jacket as you settled in. the interior was warm, the faint scent of leather and air freshener filling the space

"comfy?" he teased as you buckled up

"more than i'd be waiting in that rain," you shot back

he laughed, the sound light and easy, as he pulled back onto the road. the rain drummed steadily against the car, but inside, it was quiet, almost peaceful

"alright, then…, let's go home."

home, huh?

the blue light of your laptop pierced your eyes as you typed the final words of your assignment, and submitted it, chemistry work abandoned at the edge of your desk. as you were looking at it ashamedly, a ping came through your phone

xxx-xxx-xxxx: have you done the writing assignment yet?

you: wrong number

xxx-xxx-xxxx: no. it's p.f.b.b.

you: oh! how did you get my number?

p.f.b.b.: don't worry about that. did you do the assignment?

you: yeah i just finished. why?

p.f.b.b.: can you come over? i need some help with it. in exchange, i'll help you with your chem work that i know you didn't start

you: well since you're offering…

"do you still even like him?" nobara questioned, "before you'd be jumping up for joy."

"yeah, i do," you put your laptop and chemistry work and textbook in your tote, grabbing some snacks from the pantry too, "i'm just not as upfront about it anymore. maybe it's cause we're friends now, but i don't know!"

you slung your tote bag over your shoulder, opening the door to your apartment and saying a quick "i'll be back" to your girls. walking just across the hall and knocking on his door, you barely had time to exhale before it swung open to reveal ino in a hoodie and sweats, his hair slightly tousled like he'd just slipped off that beanie

"right on time," he said with a grin, stepping aside to let you in

"you texted me like two minutes ago—"

"make yourself at home," he interrupted, already moving to clear space for you

his apartment mirrored yours in layout but had its own chaotic charm—textbooks and notes spread across the coffee table, an empty coffee mug sitting precariously on the edge

you dropped your bag and slid onto the couch, pulling out your laptop. "let's see what you've got so far."

ino groaned, flopping down beside you with an exaggerated sigh. "barely anything. writing isn't my thing."

you rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "that's what i'm here for."

the second session, where you both stumbled through the assignment, bickering over comma placement and syntax while munching on the snacks you brought. you teased him for his messy handwriting, and he fired back with jokes about your overuse of sticky notes

the fourth session, where ino finally made good on his promise to help you with chemistry. he sat cross-legged on the floor, explaining concepts in a way that actually made sense while you leaned over his shoulder to read his notes

the sixth session, where the stress of exams had both of you yawning into your notebooks. he brewed coffee—terrible coffee—but the gesture made you smile. you fell asleep on his couch that night, waking up to a blanket draped over you

or that one time he showed up at your door, unannounced, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a thick textbook in the other for an "emergency study session,"

today was no different. you walked over to ino's apartment that he graciously started leaving unlocked around this time—just for you. walking in and greeting him briefly, you sat on his couch, your knees brushing against his as you both hovered over the same textbook as you reviewed chemical equations. the proximity made it hard to focus; you were acutely aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours every time he shifted, and you wondered if he was too

"see?" you said, pointing to a diagram. "like what does that even mean? what does this show me?"

"okay so, this shows esterification. ethanoic acid and ethanol produces ethyl ethanoate and water in the presence of an acid catalyst like sulfuric acid. the reaction begins with the acid protonation of the carbonyl oxygen of the carboxylic acid, making the carbon more electrophilic." he replied, the words falling off his tongue with ease

you glanced up at him, finding his eyes already on you. though the usual playful spark was there, his words went in one ear and out the other, and you felt embarrassed that you didn't understand a word except acid, produces, reaction, and catalyst

neither of you spoke for a long moment. the tension was palpable, the world outside his apartment fading away until it was just the two of you in this bubble of uncertainty and longing

"ino, repeat that for—" you started, but your words were cut off as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so tentative it felt like a question

your breath caught, your mind racing even as your heart leapt. what is happening right now? it was almost an immediate reaction that you kissed him back, the touch lingering just long enough to send your thoughts spiraling before you pulled away

"i—" he started, his expression a mix of surprise and hesitation. "i didn't mean to—"

you shook your head, rising from the couch as you scrambled to gather your things. "i should go."

"wait," he said, standing as if to follow, but you held up a hand to stop him

"i'll… see you later," you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you slipped out the door

the walk across the hall to your apartment felt endless, your heart pounding in your chest. once inside, you leaned against the door, your fingers brushing your lips as you replayed the moment over and over

what the fuck?

the party was in full swing, a cheerful celebration of your brother's long-awaited return. laughter and chatter filled the room, plates of food were passed around, and glasses clinked in endless toasts. you were busy setting a tray of drinks on the counter when you spotted takuma ino standing near the door, looking a little out of place but still managing to charm a small group of your family members and friends with his easygoing smile

your steps faltered, your chest tightening. he hadn't mentioned he'd be here. not that you blamed him—why would he? last night's kiss wasn't a topic either of you seemed ready to breach today. but still, the sight of him caught you completely off guard

turning on your heel, you found kento by the kitchen, nursing a glass of wine. marching up to him, you jabbed a finger in his direction

"why is he here?" you hissed, keeping your voice low

kento raised an eyebrow at you, calm as ever. "he's here because i invited him. your brother wanted to know more about my project. what better way to tell him about it than to bring my research assistant? why?"

you rubbed your temple, biting back a groan. "look, i'm not saying that he can't be here, but… you could've given me a heads-up."

kento's gaze turned suspicious, and his lips twitched into a slight frown. "why would you need a heads-up? haven't i introduced you two?"

you felt heat rising to your cheeks, the embarrassment seeping into your voice as you fumbled for an explanation. "well, yeah, formally, but he and i—we—we're—he and i—NO!"

kento stared at you, unblinking, while you buried your face in your hands, muttering curses under your breath. his frown deepened, and you could practically feel his uncle intuition kicking in

"wait," he said slowly, his tone sharpening. "what do you mean, 'he and i'?"

"nothing!" you snapped, dropping your hands, "i meant nothing. just—just forget i said anything."

kento's expression didn't waver. he studied you for a moment longer before sighing and shaking his head. "whatever you're freaking out about will pass. ino's a good guy."

"yeah, i know," you muttered under your breath, glancing back toward ino, who was now engaged in a conversation with your brother. his laugh echoed across the room, and you couldn't help the flutter of nervous energy it sent through you

as the party continued in full swing, you moved around the room, trying to keep busy—refilling snacks, grabbing empty plates, and avoiding ino's gaze whenever your paths seemed to almost cross

you weren't sure how long you could keep this up. every time his laughter reached your ears or you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, your heart seemed to skip a beat. the kiss from last night lingered in the back of your mind, a constant, unspoken weight

you had just finished setting down a fresh tray of drinks when you heard a voice behind you

"hey."

you froze, recognizing it immediately. slowly turning around, you found ino standing there, his hands holding a can of soda; they were shaking. his usual smile was softer now, almost nervous

"can we talk?" he asked, his voice low enough that no one else could hear over the party noise

your heart sank and leaped at the same time, "uh, sure. now?"

he nodded. "yeah. just for a minute. outside?"

you hesitated, glancing around the room. kento was chatting with your brother near the couch, and the rest of the guests were engrossed in their own conversations. no one would miss you for a few minutes

"okay," you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended

ino led the way to the front door, holding it open for you before stepping out into the cool night air. the silence stretched as you stood there, arms crossed against the slight chill. ino rubbed the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words

"so," he started, his tone careful, "i uh… figured it was probably a bad idea to bring this up inside. with, you know, everyone around."

you nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. "probably."

he let out a small breath, finally meeting your eyes. "about last night…"

your stomach flipped. of course, he'd bring it up. you'd been bracing for this moment all day, but now that it was here, you didn't know what to say

"look," he continued, "i don't want to make things weird between us. especially not with nanami, or your family, or—"

"it's not weird," you interrupted, surprising even yourself. "at least, it doesn't have to be."

his brows lifted slightly, a flicker of hope in his expression. "really? because i was worried i'd screwed things up."

"you didn't," you said quickly. "it's just… unexpected."

ino nodded, stepping closer. his voice softened, almost hesitant. "i don't regret it, you know. the kiss. but if you're not okay with it, i'll back off. no questions asked."

the sincerity in his tone made your chest ache. you looked up at him, taking in the way his usually confident demeanor seemed so tentative now

"i didn't say i wasn't okay with it," you murmured, barely louder than a whisper. "believe it or not, but i've been flirting with you for a while now."

ino blinked at you, his brows knitting together in confusion. "wait… what?"

you tilted your head, giving him a look that said seriously? "flirting, ino. you know, dropping hints, teasing, trying to get you to notice me?"

he stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if the realization was slowly dawning on him. "you're kidding."

you let out a soft laugh, part amused and part exasperated. "no, i'm not kidding. you're telling me you didn't pick up on any of it? not even when i started making excuses to see you more?"

ino's hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it in that familiar sheepish way. "i thought you were just being nice! like, nanami-level nice."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "nanami-level nice? ino, i bought you coffee with your weirdly specific order three times in one week. kento would never do that."

he opened his mouth, then closed it, a look of genuine shock crossing his face. "wait… that was flirting?"

"yes," you said with a small laugh. "and the time i told you your new haircut made you look good? or when i made sure there was always a snack for you at kento's? flirting, ino."

ino's jaw dropped slightly, his hands falling to his sides as he processed your words. "oh, my god. i'm the dumbest guy alive."

"well… maybe," you said, trying not to laugh at his adorably stunned expression

"i am," he insisted, his voice rising slightly in disbelief. "you've been into me this whole time, and i've been walking around like an idiot, completely missing it."

you couldn't help but laugh now, the sound easing the tension between you. "well, now you know."

he took off his beanie and ran a hand through his hair, still looking flustered but with a hint of something softer in his eyes. "yeah. now i know."

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet night stretching around you. then, almost shyly, ino glanced at you again. "so… does this mean i can kiss you again? like, now that i'm finally catching up and all."

you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. "i think that depends. are you going to keep being oblivious, or are you going to start paying attention?"

he grinned, his usual confidence flickering back. "oh, i'm paying attention now. promise."

before you could respond, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as his gaze met yours. slowly, he leaned in, his lips expecting to meet yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was certain, but… instead they met your pointer finger

"do you hear that? i think someones calling for me." you walked back into the house, leaving ino to wallow in his self-inflicted embarrassment for a while

the convenience store's fluorescent lights buzzed softly above the aisles, casting a harsh glow on shelves stocked with instant noodles, snacks, and cheap energy drinks. you and ino—or, as he let you call him in private, takuma—had wandered in after a long evening of hanging out at his apartment, the kind of night where laughter and teasing filled the silence

takuma leaned against the refrigerator door, his black beanie pushed back enough to reveal a few strands of his messy hair. he squinted at the drink selection like it held the answers to life's greatest mysteries

"you've been staring at that for a full minute," you teased, sliding up beside him. "it's not that deep. just grab the green tea like you always do."

he smirked without looking at you. "and miss out on your expert critique of my choices? never."

you reached past him to grab a bottle of sparkling water, your shoulder brushing his arm. it wasn't much, just a small touch, but it was enough to make the air between you shift. for a second, it felt like the buzzing of the fluorescent lights got louder, the hum filling the space where words should be

he cleared his throat, stepping back just slightly. "you always drink that fizzy stuff. isn't it just soda pretending to be fancy?"

"it's called having taste," you corrected, placing it in your basket

"right. taste," he said, rolling his eyes but smiling anyway

as the two of you wandered through the aisles, the quiet of the late hour settled over you, broken only by the occasional sound of a cashier scanning items. you found yourself in front of the snack section, takuma trailing behind you with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets

"you want anything?" you asked, holding up a bag of chips

"nah, i'm good," he said, but his eyes lingered on the pack of pocky in your hand

you smirked, tossing it into your basket. "liar. i'll grab it for you. consider it a thank you for giving back that hoodie you stole last week."

"i didn't steal it," he argued, though his tone was more defensive than adamant

"oh, so it just walked out of my closet on its own? how did you even get in?"

he scratched the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "mimiko let me in… and… it's comfortable."

you grinned, but decided to let it go. instead, you nudged him lightly with your elbow as you headed toward the counter. "next time, just ask. i might even let you keep it."

he followed you in silence, but when you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, you caught the faintest hint of pink on his ears

after paying for your haul, you stepped outside into the crisp night air. the streets were quiet, the kind of stillness that felt rare in the city. takuma walked beside you, the pocky in his hand already opened

"you're eating that now?" you asked, digging through the bag for that sparkling water of yours

"why not?" he said around the stick in his mouth, offering you the box

you took one, the chocolate coating melting slightly against your lips. for a moment, the two of you just walked in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier still lingering but softer now, like a thread pulling you closer without snapping

"thanks," he said suddenly, his voice quiet

"for what?" you asked, glancing at him

he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. "i don't know."

"he knew. he definitely knew," you insisted, gesturing wildly as you paced the living room

mimiko tilted her head thoughtfully. "but if he knew, why wouldn't he just say something?"

nanako smirked. "maybe he's waiting for you to say something first. or maybe he's just an idiot who can't read the room."

nobara clicked her tongue. "i mean, the guy's not exactly subtle. pretending he needs help with writing assignments? clearing his schedule to go grocery shopping with you so that you never have to carry the bags in by yourself? and don't even get me started on how he looks at you when you're not paying attention."

you threw up your hands, exasperated. "what am i supposed to do, just march up to him and demand he explain himself?"

"yes," they chorused

"ugh!" you groaned, grabbing your bag and stomping toward your room. "i don't wanna do this anymore!"

their laughter followed you down the hall, but your irritation evaporated the moment you stepped inside. on your desk, there was a letter

your name was scrawled across the front in unmistakable handwriting. your breath caught as you picked it up, hands trembling slightly as you unfolded the paper. the words inside were written with care, each line pulling at your heart:

to you, the one who's always on my mind,

i've started and restarted this letter more times than i can count, and even now, i'm not sure if i've found the right words. how do you tell someone that they've completely changed the way you see the world? that their laugh is the best sound you've ever heard, or that their smile makes even the worst days feel a little brighter?

i've never been good at this—putting my feelings into words—but for you, i'll try. because you deserve to know how incredible you are, even if i can't say it as smoothly as i'd like.

you have this way of making everything feel easier, lighter, just by being yourself. and it's not just the big things, like how you help me with work or how you always know exactly what to say when i'm frustrated. it's the little things too. like how you hum under your breath when you're focused, how you tilt your head when you're confused, how you always manage to start an argument over the stupidest of topics, how you light up when you talk about something you love. it's those little things that make me fall harder for you every day.

i don't know when it started—maybe it was the late nights we spent working together, or maybe it was how you didn't let me quit when things felt impossible. but now i don't think i want to stop. you make me want to be better, just so i can be someone worthy of being by your side. and maybe i'm not saying this the right way, but i hope you understand what i mean.

i don't know what you'll do with this letter, and maybe i'm an idiot for writing it (and asking mimiko to put it on your desk for me), but if nothing else, i just needed you to know.

yours (if you want me to be),

p.f.b.b.

your chest tightened, emotions flooding through you as you reread the letter. before you could realize it, you were across the hall, in front of takuma's door

you knocked on it and pushed it open without waiting for a response. "takuma—"

he was standing in the kitchen, and your eyes immediately caught the bouquet of your favorite flowers on the counter. the vibrant blooms were arranged with care, their familiar scent wafting through the room

takuma turned, his face a mix of surprise and panic. "oh. uh… hey."

"you're unbelievable," you said, holding up the letter, trying to fight back your smile

his ears turned red as he scratched the back of his neck. "so, you found that."

"takuma, what is this?" you gestured to the flowers and the letter, your voice a mix of exasperation and something softer

he hesitated, looking uncharacteristically shy. "i… i wanted to tell you how i feel, but every time i try, i just… i mess it up. so, i thought maybe this would be easier."

you stared at him, your heart pounding. "and the flowers?"

"i thought they'd make you smile," he said simply, stepping closer. "do they?"

you felt your lips twitch despite yourself. "they do."

his shoulders relaxed slightly, but the tension between you only seemed to grow. his voice dropped, softer now. "i meant every word in that letter. i did."

your breath hitched, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "why didn't you tell me sooner? i've been…" you trailed off, shaking your head

"been what?" he pressed, his eyes searching yours.

"waiting," you admitted. "i've been waiting for you to say something since the party. anything."

takuma stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. "i'm saying it now," he murmured. "i care about you. a lot. more than i probably should. and if i'm being honest, you terrify me a little because of how much i feel when i'm around you."

your heart twisted at his words, and before your mind could find a reason to say no, you leaned up, capturing his lips in a kiss. it was hesitant at first, soft and searching, but when his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, the world seemed to melt away

when you pulled back, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours

"i think we should date," he said, a small smile playing on his lips

you laughed softly, your nerves giving way to warmth. "i think we should too."

his grin widened, but before the moment could get too serious, he quipped, "does this mean i get to steal your clothes now?"

you smacked his arm playfully. "i'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."

"hey…, what does p.f.b.b. stand for?"

"mmm," you hummed, looking at your… boyfriend. "don't worry about it."

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livinginshambles · 2 years ago

Text

Not ridiculous at all | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.

Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)

(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!

Part two Masterlist

__________________

You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.

But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.

I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.

Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.

"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.

"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.

"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.

"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"

You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.

"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?

"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.

"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."

And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.

Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.

You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.

"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.

"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.

Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.

"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.

You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.

James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.

"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.

"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.

Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.

The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.

Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"

"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."

"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"

Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"

Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.

With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.

"I love you guys."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.

"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.

James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.

He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.

The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.

"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.

James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.

James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'

A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?

He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.

The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.

He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.

"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.

"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.

"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."

"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.

"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.

Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.

"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"

This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.

"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.

"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.

"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.

Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"

"I bloody hope so, Moony."

"But it's James."

"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."

"But it's James."

"Yep, you're right."

Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.

"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.

"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."

You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.

"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.

"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."

"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.

You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.

"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.

What now?

You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.

"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.

"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."

You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.

"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"

You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.

"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.

"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."

At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.

James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.

If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.

You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.

'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?

James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.

'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.

You looked absolutely perfect.

You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.

You were running from Filch.

'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.

Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.

You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.

You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.

You simply admired him.

The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.

Oh no.

Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?

You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.

James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.

The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.

Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.

So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.

"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.

James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.

"How about a date?"

There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.

"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.

James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.

He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.

And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.

You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"

"You", he blurted out.

You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.

"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.

There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.

"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.

"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.

James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.

"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.

"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.

"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."

'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."

You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.

With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.

Part two

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #marauders era #marauders #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter fic

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love-of-the-red-star · 8 months ago

Text

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

Chapter One: Fuck it we ball!!

(Series)

Obligatory chapter warning: Violence (there’s a gunfight), description of blood, reader being a liiiitle dubious.

Maybe you shouldn’t have wondered how the crew even knew.

You had asked in the “acktually☝️” type of way— in layman’s terms, rather awkwardly.

Who could blame you? You were stuck in space with no human interaction for god knows how long with only your fellow eldritch horror looking gods that occasionally passed by for company.

Your brain may be incredibly big and fast now, but it didn’t mean you weren’t any less awkward. (Though you’re pretty sure you speak better than most of the Aeons— however, that’s just your opinion.)

“We could feel your energy.” That’s what Himeko said. “Well— our system did.”

“Okay?” You blinked, but then went cold when you realized having your energy levels out as Himeko told you meant that you were basically walking out with your fly open.

“The influx of energy isn’t allowing us to jump.” She added, and you understood now, it was like coming across a stellaron infested planet, except it’s worse because it’s God— one of them anyways, and not just some random piece of space cancer.

“Sorry.” You blurted out, then had an idea, wondering if that one bit in the show you watched in your world would help. “Can I get out of the train and excuse me for a bit? I’ll be right back, I’ll just uhhh… suck the energy in, if you know what I mean.” You pointed to the open door, and the stop that thankfully no one is occupying.

“Go ahead.” Himeko nodded, and you made your way out.

You took a deep breath and exhaled, then looked side to side to see if anyone is going to see what you’re pretty sure is going to be an embarrassing looking spectacle. Seeing as the coast was clear, you took a deep breath again and scrunched your face in concentration, adapting a kamekameha pose like Veldora had.

You then grasped at your energy that you now saw around you and crumpled it, until it became smaller and smaller to just enough to thankfully pass like a normal Joe.

A Joe that can fight, but a normal Joe regardless.

What you did was just basically return some of the energy you’ve poured into this projection back to your main body, not exactly holding it in. You’ve managed to succeed, thankfully without having to accidentally explode a planet.

You weren’t Nanook, and you weren’t going to plan becoming a 2.0 very soon. And now that you thought about it, you’re pretty sure they hate you— but when do they not hate anything enough to not destroy it?

Brushing your thoughts away, you returned to the parlor car, and Himeko blinked in surprise. “That was quick.” She told you.

“I know.” You said. “It was surprisingly easy.”

If she had seen what the hell you just did outside, she wasn’t going to say anything about it.

(You’re pretty sure she saw that, much to you wanting to shrivel on the inside like a raisin.)

“So uhh… anything else?”

Himself shook her head, then the parlor car door closed.

It was only the start of your journey.

————————

Seeing the stars through the window of the express had been a surreal experience. It’s strange, to be inside of a room— you almost forgot how it felt like to step on the ground or not smelling the radioactive scent of space. The parlor car smelled nice, nostalgic almost.

It was funny that you only took notice of that now when you were left to your thoughts in your projected body.

“I can’t believe I’m missing the smell of air freshener of all things.” You mumbled as you watched Pompom sweep the floors of the parlor.

Welt and Himeko were talking about something behind closed doors— probably about you. Honestly you can’t fault them for that, because even though you’d like to deny it, you were in fact a big deal.

A very big deal. An elephant, an obnoxious colored elephant, in the room.

You just hoped they’d come to a conclusion to give you time just enough to prove you mean well. And you really do mean well.

In the next 168 hours (god, that was such a weird way to call an entire week), you were assigned a room of your own.

In the game, you recalled there were only four rooms, but in this one, in reality, there were more. It would make sense, you thought as you observed your own room that’s still rather barren of decoration.

You could just think of what to place into it later.

Another 168 hours go by and you’re entertained by either the little music player in the parlor, or helping Pompom. You spoke to Himeko and Welt from time to time, but it felt Ike you were a bit… out of place. Now that you thought about it you realized they were far more mature than you were, and it wouldn’t be lie either.

While it was nice to have something close to a parental figure, you knew they couldn’t entertain whatever it was that you craved. You realized you’re surprisingly a bit more childish than you thought, especially for a cosmic entity.

You were starting to feel a little antsy though, and decided you’d go back to your main body for a while to fuck around— yeah, you should do that, you thought as you nodded to yourself.

You stood from your bed and made your way out of your room to find either Himeko or Welt so you could tell them you’d be leaving for a while.

Pompom seemed to pout a little at the thought of your absence when you spoke to them about it, but their emotions were quelled when you had mentioned promising them trinkets.

You bid the three farewell, and your body eventually dissipated.

———————

“What the fork are you looking at me for, darlin’?”

Oh wow. You thought as you blinked. “Nothing, I just thought you look rather… interesting, that’s all.” You said. You meant to say handsome, but you didn’t want to be creepy to the cyborg as much as you loved him. It was a little embarrassing to admit now, considering that he was just as real as you were, that you were probably his biggest fan.

“What brings someone like you in a place like this? You don’t fudging look like you’d be into the shady business, unless…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, taking a swing of the strong smelling shot of whiskey handed over to him by the bartender.

How did you even end up here? Simple, you got bored in the parlor car.

You left the express, went to your body, chose a random planet and saw Boothill and decided to make an appearance because why not? It wasn’t exactly everyday you would get to interact with a cool cowboy (probably the coolest space cowboy), so you made the spontaneous decision to simply appear as you were in this little.. town and entered the tavern.

“I got bored.” You said, swirling the drink on your hand that would undoubtedly send you to a hospital for alcohol poisoning had you been an actual human. You took an entire gulp and made a face afterwards. Boothill laughed.

“How do you even enjoy this? It tastes like battery acid and fire.” You grimaced, but you took more sips of the drink despite your own comment. “Anyways, I was bored, and I saw this place and thought: hmmm why not? It feels weirdly liberating in a way.” You confessed.

“Not that much of a stickler for rules despite being dressed like a goody two shoes huh? That’s fudging funny.” The glass clinked, and Boothill’s attention still remained on you funnily enough.

“I’m not nice.” You frowned. “I just dress like this because it’s nice to pretend to be a pretentious bastard sometimes. Plus, it’s cute.” You bristle, and he only smiled at you.

You found that Boothill’s surprisingly way too easy to speak to.

“Sure, sure.” He waved a hand. He doesn’t believe you, and in the far corners of your mind you heard Aha’s laughter. Great, you inwardly groaned, but at least it was just Aha. Then you realized they might just fuck around with you AND have people know you’re an Aeon so they could look at you— maybe not today, but at some point in time.

You felt your lips thin at the thought.

Your attention snapped back to Boothill when you saw him glance at a few people, probably lackeys, in a way that you could describe as nasty. Then you suddenly remembered the posters outside in passing.

“Hey darlin, you might wanna hide your pretty face under the table right now. There’s about to be fork load of bullets, don’t want any one of them grazing your face.” Boothill muttered over to you. And you realizing what was happening and what he was going to do, you played along, slowly sliding under the table as he took out a gun. “‘Bout time these motherfudgers showed up.”

It didn’t take two seconds and hell broke loose.

You felt bad for the bartender.

Patrons screamed and some women ran out as you heard gunshots, and suddenly you felt the urge to poke your head out of the table to see the action. It wasn’t like you’d die if a bullet hit you, it would be embarrassing for an Aeon to die by a mere bullet.

You whistled, then gaped as you witnessed this absolute unit of a man literally moonwalk his way out of the bullets. You felt like a little kid watching an action movie, except you had front seats, and this was very much reality.

“Behind you!” You warned Boothill, and he made a show of shooting the lackey (that you now recognized was an IPC grunt) in a way that got you clapping with joy. “Beat their ass mister! Fuck ‘em up!” You cheered, and one of the grunts tried coming for you instead. You weren’t a coward though, and instead grabbed a chair and threw it as hard as you could.

You heard a grunt and a really ugly crack that you know that definitely wasn’t the wooden chair. “Eugh.” You cringed, feeling a little bad about co-signing the man’s obituary but coming for you with a weapon in hand was just natural selection waiting to happen.

Now that you were out of the bag, you grabbed another heavy chair and decided you’d give Boothill an easier time by helping. “I don’t know what’s going on, but damn I feel bad for the owner of the establishment.” You said loudly through the sound of gunshots, Boothill laughed again as another man had been shot down.

“Yap later darlin! You should worry about the side of your fudging head first!” Just as he said that, you threw the chair at one of the final three lackeys. And like the other one who you took out, this one too went out to board his one way ticket to god.

The establishment had gone completely quiet aside from your breathing and the sound of Boothill’s engine quietly whirring.

“Is it over?” You asked, hopeful.

“Yep.” The cyborg drawled.

You released a sympathetic “oof” at the state of the tavern though. “This place is a wreck.” You said flatly.

“Don’t worry too much about that, they’ll take care of it.”

“Okay….” You exhaled. “Wow.. that was.. a lot.” You eyed the bodies, frowning as you prayed your default appearance won’t end up in a wanted poster. Scratch that, it probably would.

“Didn’t know you’re darn crazy like that though.” Boothill spoke, patting off the nonexistent dust off of his pistol.

“Yeah sorry.” You muttered, then clearing your throat. “I felt bad for them but I realized they’re capitalists for a certain corporate office. They can go die in a ditch.” You shrugged, you don’t grieve this time, maybe you would at some point in the future when you’re wiser.

“Also, it wouldn’t hurt to help a friend out I think.” You said, though you’re uncertain as to how Boothill would react to such a sentence.

“Oh fudge me sideways, care to shake my hand? The name’s Boothill.” He grinned, teeth sharp like a shark’s as he held out his metal hand for you to grasp.

Oh I know very well who you are, you thought, not that he would ever know that. You grasp his hand and introduced yourself, happy that he actually likes you.

You eventually had to part ways with him for the day, having each other as contacts through the phone (Welt was kind enough to give you one of your own) so you could keep in touch.

You ended up spending the remainder of your time in that little town looking around for souvenirs to pocket just for Pompom. Now where did you get your money? It’s a little mean, but you looted them off of the IPC bodies.

It’s blood money, but it’s money regardless. And if the people who initially owned it were rich and dead? Then you don’t have to feel bad about pocketing it, you were free to do as you wanted.

Getting back to the parlor car was easy, making your presence known to the beloved little conductor who very much anticipated your presents.

“[Name], where’d you get the money to buy all this?” Welt asked as he inspected the personalized mug you gave him. (It was a neat wooden mug with his name carved on it, Himeko had one of her own too.)

You merely smiled innocently.

Welt sighed, he shouldn’t have asked.

———————-

Part I, Part II (HERE), Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII….

AAAND THATS A WRAP UP FOR THE CHAPTER FOLKS! And yes, reader is a litttle unhinged (curse being a cosmic entity, they’re a little dubious as a treat). And YES they’re a big Boothill fan (like me), like come on who doesn’t wanna hang around a cool space cowboy who has a censored vocabulary of a COD lobby?

#hsr x reader #aeons x reader #yaoshi x reader #Honkai star rail reader insert #Honkai star rail x reader #aeon reader #Himeko x reader #Welt yang x reader #Boothill x reader #reader insert #honkai star rail

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