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#i have a ways to go with ambient lighting but better late than never right
anystalker707 · 9 months
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"Show me how to kiss?"
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Two imagines one in which you ask Sanji to show you what it is like to kiss and another one in which he's the one to ask. Tags: Gentleman Sanji !! / Also babygirl Sanji, ofc / Very sweet, y'kno / Sanji can't help himself / You can't either, but it's nice seeing him caving in / Very romantic Check out (Roronoa Zoro's version)
MASTERLIST
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If you’re the one to ask him...
          All of that kind of got you frustrated. Robin had recommended you a book, a book that was too immersive for its own good. Since living as a pirate took most of your time, you’d never really thought about it until you started reading that; the book stuck in your mind a little too long, hence it wasn’t difficult hearing the others once in a while telling you to come back to earth.
It was difficult not thinking about the book the entire time. The way the couple kissed... What did it feel like? Having the lips of someone you like pressed against yours, their tongue running against your lip...
“I told you to pull the halyard, (y/n)! Are you listening?” Nami’s voice cut through your thoughts. Fuck, you spaced out again.
“Sorry, Nami-san!” You shout in return, finally doing as said. Damn it. That book really caught you, leaving you wondering whether you liked the story itself or if all those descriptions just caught your attention. A sigh escaped your lips as you finished pulling the sail and, along with Nami and Zoro, you finished preparing the ship for the night.
With dinner already being served, it didn’t take long until everyone was going back to their quarters—or just falling asleep wherever, in Luffy’s case. All the lights were off, only with a dim beam coming from the window on the door of the galley. Today’s night watch was Sanji’s. You sort of had been waiting for that.
Sanji had always been there for you, really—aside from all the flirting, he did take his time to check up on you and hang out, sometimes inviting you to help him finish decorating whatever dessert he was preparing for the crew just so you two could talk. It was something else, so you couldn’t really help looking at Sanji with a different tone after you started reading that damn book Robin recommended to you. His lips seemed extra attractive as he talked to you yesterday when you made him company while he prepared lunch, shaping nicely around every word he spoke. Sometimes you asked him to repeat himself; he probably thought you were dumb, damn.
Only the soft sound of the waves filled the ambient aside from the occasional creaking of wood under your feet as you started heading upstairs to reach the galley. You stood there for a long moment before you finally knocked on the door, sighing, and walked in.
“Sanji?” You closed the door behind yourself; Sanji was by the sink and looked back at you over his shoulder with a smile.
“(Y/n)-chan! What brings you here?” He grinned. “It’s already late, y’know? Why haven’t you gone to sleep already? Such a pretty warrior like you needs a good night of sleep, my dear.” And even if he just had his back to you at the moment, you could still picture how he would’ve winked otherwise. Why did Sanji have to be so charming? He kinda reminded you of the guy in the book you were reading, all romantic, with those kisses... But better, of course.
Okay, whatever, that’s not the point.
You clear your throat, shaking your head as you lean forward with your forearms on the cold surface of the counter. “Right. I want a favor.”
“A favor?” Sanji turned off the sink and turned to you, wiping his hands dry on his apron. He had no blazer or tie this time, with the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Your eyes quickly met his again and you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Something simple, but... Like, you can refuse it.”
Sanji furrowed his eyebrows. “Right, but what’s it?”
Fuck. That was going to be harder than you thought. Your eyes averted away. “Yeah. You’re, like, the only person I trust and also the one who’s probably the best for this,” you mumbled, but immediately paused again—rambling wasn’t a good idea—, “like... Could you show me how to kiss? As I said, it’s fine if you don’t accept it, but it would be really nice if you—”
“...You’ve never kissed anyone before?” Sanji blinked a couple of times.
“Don’t tease me, Sanji,” you sighed, standing up properly and scratching the back of your neck. “I never really had the time, never really thought about it, y’know, but...”
“No, no,” Sanji sighed as he stepped closer. “That’s not what I mean, darling. The thing is, are you sure you’re going to give your first kiss to me? It’s something special, after all. You must think really well about it.”
Why did Sanji have to complicate things? It felt like you’d just explode at some point because of the whole tension, even more with how he acted. You just wanted to vanish or something, pretend that never happened.
“Sanji... You’re, like, special enough.” You shrugged, but then the way he started to blush made you rethink your words. Could that just get worse? “Ah, c’mon, I just...”
“Right, right.” Sanji quickly nodded—maybe he knew what you thought, since he was good at reading you and catching onto clues in general. “I’m honestly honored. You’re very sweet, my dear. I’m going to make it simple, okay?” He grinned wide as he usually did and walked around the counter to come closer, standing right in front of you after you turned around, leaning back against the counter and holding onto the edges.
You nodded, your eyes catching onto every little movement, from the way he adjusted his clothes out of instinct to the way there was a nervous trembling tugging onto the corner of his lips.
Sanji’s tongue poked out, running between his lips as he leaned in, a hand gripping onto the edge counter by each of your sides. His breath fanned over your face, and the smell of his cologne with a hint of tobacco filled your lungs. “Just try to go along with what I do, okay?” He whispered, waiting for you to nod before he finally closed the distance between you two.
Sanji’s lips pressed to yours softly, warm and gentle, as if he was afraid to do something wrong. His mouth broke the contact only for a second as, instead of having your bottom lip between his, he had your upper lip now; you tried to follow his gentle motions, your lips clumsily moving against his. Sanji still remained calm, keeping the same slow pace of the kiss until you could finally kiss back properly.
It was a hard task, actually. How could you keep yourself calm while you finally kissed someone? And, hold on, it wasn’t anyone. It was Sanji.
“Good?” Sanji whispered, his eyes looking into yours so intently you could feel your heart beating more while your face felt so hot; still, you nodded. He smiled in response. “Can I do it again, my dear?”
How were you even supposed to handle that? “Yes, yes,” you whispered, maybe a little more excited than you intended, but it didn’t matter.
Sanji soon pressed his lips against yours again, and things were smoother this time. The kiss felt different, even if it all was essentially the same thing as before. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your fingers tightening a little around the marble as you tried to focus more on how his lips felt against yours; from the way your lips slid together to how his breath fanned against the space between your upper lip and your nose— And oh, also how his mustache would tickle whenever it grazed your skin, the same way it would tickle when his goatee brushed your chin. It was fucking better than anything you could ever have imagined. Better than what the books could have described.
You sighed softly, about to move your hand to his shoulder when Sanji pulled away a little, but he quickly kissed you again, making you gasp when his tongue ran against your bottom lip. It made a shiver run down your spine, having something stirring in your chest as your lips parted slightly.
The kiss finally broke, and your lips still felt tingly even so. You caught your breath, blinking before you finally looked at Sanji, your heart still beating fast and face still warm.
“Sanji—”
“Was that good, my dear?” There was something different in his voice.
“Of course.” Admitting it out loud made you want to disappear again.
Sanji smiled, exhaling in relief. “That’s great.”
“What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows; your hand met Sanji’s so easily, just with a light shift as you just wanted to adjust your hand against the counter. You keep it there, though, on top of his.
Sanji’s eyes averted away, a sigh escaping his lips. “It was wrong of me.”
“...Hm?”
“Wrong to enjoy it while I was just doing you a favor. I’m so sorry, my dear,” he whispered.
“What do you mean?” You glanced away. “I... Sanji, that was so... Like, you made my heart skip beats, that...”
A red tone took over Sanji’s cheeks and his eyes widened before he looked at you. “Really?”
You nodded, chuckling. “Really.”
“Would you mind if I did it again?” He grinned again, wagging his eyebrows a little.
Your eyes averted away and you tried to bite back a smile. “...Of course not.”
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
If he asks you...
          Sanji didn’t fucking know what he was going to do. The crew had been staying on an island for a while, partying away and relaxing after they saved yet other people from someone who threatened their peace. Unexpectedly, it earned him a date with one of the girls in the city that he met in a local bar through his characteristic flirting. So far so good, right? Actually, no. That was the first person who actually got that far with him, so he didn’t even know how to kiss—the only experience he had was pecking lips with whoever he got closer with, never actually kissing.
Maybe someone would help him with it? Because Sanji sure as hell didn’t want to lose that opportunity. It really was the first time he had gotten that far. He could ask Nami, right? Only if he was ready to hear her teasing at him the whole time and still dare ask him an immeasurable amount of berries for the ‘favor’. Robin would be nice, but it still wasn’t a great choice—she would be a tease in her own, harsh way, and Sanji didn’t want to lose the bit of respect he had with her. The men—out of question. No.
Then... There was you.
It didn’t seem like you would refuse his request, and Sanji was—almost—sure you knew how to kiss. Not to mention that you had such pretty lips that he couldn’t help imagining how they would feel against his and— Okay, that’s not the focus. He just had to get ready for a date, that, shamefully, wasn’t with you.
Sanji stood there in the kitchen, polishing glasses as he observed you finish eating breakfast while the rest of the crew already started to leave the galley; Zoro had chased Usopp and Luffy out of the kitchen most of the others was already off to their duties, only leaving you talking with Robin about a book she had in hand. Robin would lift her book or open at specific pages to show you something while you sipped on your juice until she eventually stood up with a sigh and left, waving at you.
Now was his chance.
“(Y/n)-swan...” Sanji’s voice cut through the galley in its mellow tone, almost as if it were a plea already, making you raise an eyebrow at him from your place at the table. “I may need your help with something, my dear.” He was thankful he was behind the counter so you wouldn’t have a full look on how weak you made you.
“What’s it?” You sipped on your juice as you looked at him. It was normal seeing Sanji blushing and fawning over people, but it wasn’t exactly your case; he used to be shy around you, though not really as squirmy as he was at the moment.
Sanji took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt of easing the fluster. “You know how to kiss, right?” He remembered you would talk with some people whenever the crew would party on islands, which was enough to make him jealous and worsen his nervousness in a way his flirting just stopped working with everyone else. Until now, it seemed.
You furrowed your eyebrows. Why was that even important? “...Yeah, I do.” The way Sanji looked at you made you rethink the events of the last week to check if you’d done anything wrong. Had you? Maybe last night when you—
“I...” Sanji sighed. “Can you come here?”
With a quick look around—was it a prank?—, you downed your juice before standing up. “What’s it?” You stood across from him, on the other side of the counter, resting your forearms over the cold marble.
Sanji took a deep breath. “I would like you to show me how to kiss.”
You blinked. Show him how to kiss. Him being Sanji. Sanji and you with your lips pressed to each other. Kissing. “What?”
“I got a date, but I... I don’t know how to kiss. I would only trust such a sweet person like you with teaching me how to do such an important thing, you know? I really hope you can help me....” His rant faded away into the back of your mind as you could feel your cheeks start to heat up while you digested everything that he said.
A string of curses escaped your lips as you let your head hang, staring at the marble in an attempt to ground yourself to reality. Like, Sanji was cute, of course, with that characteristic grace that laced his movements whenever he cooked and the cute way he smiled at you while saying something reassuring. Still, he never really paid attention to you like he did to the others, but he was there asking you such a favor. It was just a simple favor. Nothing more. Nothing deeper. Nonetheless, the fact he had a date still made your heart sink a little.
You exhaled slowly, nodding as you brought your head up again. Sanji was still speaking. That stupid fuck.
“Sanji,” you cut him off, watching him gulp, his cheeks red. “I can help you. Chill. I’ll help you.” You cleaned your throat because. After all, it was just a little favor, right? Right?
Sanji looked at you with wide eyes, incredulous that you’d actually accepted. He was very convinced that you’d accept it, of course, but not really. Like, maybe you would, but also— Okay, okay, focus. Sanji took a deep breath again and nodded, pressing his lips together. He quickly put the glass and the cloth away. What if he took too long and you changed your mind? He couldn’t risk that.
With quick steps, Sanji walked around the counter and stood in front of you. “Right... What do I need to...?” Despite how serious he tried to seem, he still held onto his apron tightly and his cheeks had that red tone while he looked at you.
It made your heart flutter a little, even if that wouldn’t matter a lot to him. Breathe deeply, (y/n), don’t make it a big deal.
“Relax, okay?” You cut off your own thoughts, cupping Sanji’s face gently. He bit on his lip, and the general way he acted almost made your heart ache. “No, don’t bite your lip.” You chuckled, running your thumb across his cheek in an attempt to help him calm down, but the way he reacted, damn... “Okay, better. Can I?”
Sanji blinked and quickly nodded. “Yes.”
Spending a little while longer looking at Sanji was a strong temptation, but it wasn’t like you were kissing a partner or something like that; there was no need to admire him and take in each detail of how pretty he was before you kissed him. You swallowed dryly and nodded, closing the distance between the two of you. Sanji gasped once your lips met, but you still held the kiss for a little before pulling away, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Is there something wrong?”
Sanji blinked a couple of times. “I—I was a little out of it. Can you do it again?”
Out of it? Or maybe he disliked it? You slowly nodded and kissed Sanji again and, this time, he tried to kiss back, though it was a little messy since he tried to rush things—you pulled away with a chuckle.
“Easy! You need to follow the pace or at least slowly establish one. Also, don’t try to use tongue out of sudden— No, you didn’t do that, but that’s just a tip.” You explained, furrowing your eyebrows a little at how his face fell a little. “Just simple kisses, okay? I kiss your upper lip while you kiss my bottom one and vice versa. No rushing.”
Sanji’s gaze averted away and he sighed, pressing his lips together, but he still nodded. This time, there was no warning before you pressed your lips to his, and he seemed to hold onto what you said, moving his lips—or at least trying to—in the same rhythm as yours, which was quite slow. His lips were warm and smooth against yours, and there was the sweet taste of whatever fruit he had eaten for breakfast earlier along with tobacco, of course. It wasn’t the best mix ever, but there was something about it that had you needing more.
You pulled away, your breath picking up a little; Sanji’s breath fanned over your face, also somewhat uneven. “Was that okay?”
“...Yeah,” he whispered.
“I will try something else,” you added. Why were you still so close while talking like that? Why were you still cupping his face? “Try to copy.”
All Sanji did was to nod this time, already closing his eyes.
It was a little better this time, smoother, since Sanji already started to get used to it, but he still faltered when your tongue slid against his bottom lip. Sanji gasped softly but accepted it, letting you trace his lip with your tongue until you went back to kissing him like before. His hands suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing them a little with the firm grip he used while trying to run his tongue against your lip as naturally as you had done to him.
If you had opened your eyes, you would see Sanji furrowing his eyebrows gently, focused as he tried his best. He wondered if you could hear how loud his heart was beating because, fuck, that was finally happening. He was finally kissing you.
Sanji’s breath was shaky when the kiss ended again and he could feel his heart fluttering with how your thumb ran across his cheek gently before your hand dropped to cup the side of his neck. His eyes met yours and he gulped.
“Ag—”
“Want one more thing?” You suggested and he couldn’t help but nod, biting his lip, and he was the one to lean in this time.
Something was different about this one kiss, and Sanji couldn’t really find out what it was—he just hummed softly, trying to follow your pace and letting your tongue run against your lip until you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth. Fuck, his brain just went blank when your tongue pressed against his, gliding against it and deepening the kiss. He was still trying to process it when you pulled away, hence he couldn’t even take in whatever you said, just able to mumble “again.”
Who were you to deny the request? Your free hand rested on Sanji’s waist and his hands adjusted their grip around your shoulders as your lips met once more. More confidence laced Sanji’s actions this moment, his tongue running against your lip as he kissed you, but you couldn’t help yourself, just pulling him a little closer and nibbling gently on his bottom lip, enough to snatch a quiet sound from him.
Both of you breathed a little heavier, holding onto each other even after the kiss was over.
“Y’know?” Sanji said, making you hum in response. “I don’t think I want to go out with that girl anymore...”
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
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thus-spoke-lo · 2 years
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Just for the Summer || Aoi Todo x reader || NSFW [minors DNI] --- Summary: Written for @aasouthteranoswife’s Summer Fling collab. When you propose a summer fling with Todo, you entrust him not to get attached. But who's heart will be broken when the summer ends? CW: light angst/romance, fingering, vaginal sex, AFAB reader AO3 Link Word Count: 2.8k --- “So Aoi, I was thinking. What if we, like… I dunno… hooked up over the summer?”
You were as surprised at the words that plummeted from your mouth as Todo was. Perhaps it was the soju that had been freely flowing at dinner tonight, or perhaps it was spending yet another post-mission dinner listening to Todo wax poetic about his darling Takada-chan and wishing you had someone who would talk about you the way he talked about her every waking moment, or perhaps it was the general prospect of facing another summer alone, when all you wanted was someone to bring you home and fuck you senseless in the languid heat of your apartment, then take you out for a late-night snack and a walk around the city. Whatever it was that had possessed you during a brief lull in conversation, it was too late to take it back, and the question hung shamelessly in the air above the table.
Todo closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, crossing his massive arms as he seemed to carefully weigh his options. You waited for what seemed like at least a decade to pass before he set his wide hands down on the table and leaned forward, his eyes focused on you with a level of intensity that was vaguely unnerving, and asked slowly, “So… only for the summer?”
“Well, yeah,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip, as you pondered how strict you intended the proposition to be. “I mean I didn’t exactly think this through but it seemed like maybe it could be fun—you now, just a little summer fling and then we go back to being friends like always. I mean, we like each other enough.” You swirled your straw in what was left of your drink. “Wait, we do, right?”
“Are you trying to ask me if I think you’re attractive?” he laughed.
You felt your face growing hot, unsure if it was because of the alcohol or the question. “Well, yeah, I guess so.”
“Of course I do!” He reached across the table and gripped your hand. “I would be honored to be your summer fling, angel.”
“Angel?” You yanked your hand away in mock disgust. “Okay, okay, now I feel like you’re just making fun of this, just forget it.”
“No, no, of course not! I think it sounds like it could be a good time for us both. But what if we want to keep going after summer?” he asked, a wide grin spreading across his face. “What if you just fall so in love with me that you have to keep me for yourself?”
You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Well, I suppose if that somehow happens, then I’ll just have to tear myself away from you and break both our hearts, won’t I?”
“Oh come on now, you act so hard, as though you would never fall for me. I bet you could.” He nodded forcefully. “In fact, I think you might.”
 “You’re the one who should be careful, Aoi. I think I can keep my feelings separate just fine,” you smiled.
“Don’t you worry,” he laughed, “I can guard my heart better than you think.”
Your little corner of the ramen bar felt eerily silent, the ambient synth music playing over the loudspeakers fading away outside the bubble that seemed to surround your table. You fiddled with the paper remains of a straw wrapper. “So now what?”
“Hm.” He reached across the table and stroked your forearm, his wide fingers dancing over your skin until goosebumps started to form. “Well, maybe we should get out of here and get started?”
“Perhaps we should.” You felt a fire start to burn inside you, and you quickly reached for your wallet to pay the tab.
--
It’s just for the summer, you ran through your mind once or twice as he slid a hand down your shorts while you lazed on the couch, the TV blaring something you’d both watched a dozen times already.
“Aoi, stop,” you whined in mock protest, as you started to squirm under his touch, “I’m watching this.”
He ignored your objections as he kissed and bit along your jaw, down your neck, tongue dragging along your skin, until you shuddered and moaned. The rough pad of his thumb made circles on your aching clit, his thick fingers pushed aside your slick pussy lips and plunged into your cunt. It didn’t take much for you to be on your back, shorts and panties tossed to the side so you had space to let your legs splay open, as you begged for him to fuck you, but he just smiled and shook his head as he slowed down his pace, dragging his fingers in and out of you at a torturous speed, grinning like a man possessed as he watched you writhe and squirm under him.
You realized there’d be no point in protesting and no possibility of you stringing together a string of coherent words anyway, as you succumbed to the ache deep in your core; your head lolled back and eyes fluttered shut as you felt yourself clamp down around his fingers over and over again, pulling him in deeper with every spasm. You opened your eyes again, the living room a smeared mess of color as you blinked to clear your vision, and you looked up to see Todo watching you so intently, even adoringly, as he smiled and asked if it was good for you, cooing about how pretty you look when you’re cumming around his fingers.
You sat up and threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck to hide your sheepish grin, and thanked him, like you always did. You could practically feel him melting as you praised him, told him how good his fingers felt, how you couldn’t wait to have his tongue on you or his cock inside you next. It didn’t take too many more of your sweet words before you were bent over the couch and he was buried deep in your folds, coaxing more orgasms and more praise out of you.
As usual, you never did get to finish that show you were watching, though by the end of the night, you couldn’t even remember what it was about.
--
It was hard to keep in mind that this wasn’t meant to last—that you were clear that it was just for the summer, that you would keep your feelings neatly boxed away—when you wandered out of your bedroom, your legs thick columns of jelly, still aching and sore from every orgasm that he pulled out of you late into the night, to find Todo standing in your kitchen, naked except for a jokey “Kiss the Cook” apron you had forgotten was tucked away in a junk drawer. When he heard you padding down the hall, he quickly stood up to greet you, holding a carton of eggs in one hand and a bottle of hot sauce in the other. “You’re just in time, lovely!” he exclaimed. “I was about to make eggs, just the way you like them. The rice is done, just keeping it warm.” He walked over a planted a kiss on your forehead. “Everything should be ready soon, you just sit down, I’ll serve you as soon as it’s done. I know I wore you out last night, so I thought I should get you fed first thing!”
You nodded sleepily and sat down at your small dining table, one leg tucked under you, as you absentmindedly played with a fork, lazily spinning it between your fingers. You watched Todo buzz around in your small kitchen; he moved nimbly in the small space for someone of his immense size, making egg cookery seem almost elegant, as he hummed some upbeat tune you’d never heard and you made a mental note to ask about it later.
Had you ever told him how you liked your eggs? It was possible you had told him directly, but knowing Todo as you’d grown to over the last couple of months, it was more likely that you had mentioned it fleetingly in some conversation that had nothing to do with anything, and he had tucked it away in his steel-trap mind, keeping it safe and sound until the day when he would have the chance to make breakfast for you.
He was just like that, you had realized after spending this much time with him, more than you ever had on missions or late-night drinks—he just remembered things about you, like when he’d stand at the coffee shop counter with you and proudly rattle off your order that he’d memorized after just one time hearing it, and then wrap his arms around you while you waited for your beverage, resting his chin on the top of your head, swaying back and forth and dancing with you to the standard-issue café music playing softly over crackled speakers.
You wondered how many more things he remembered about you, and what he would choose to forget when it was all over.
--
It’s just for the summer, you reminded yourself as you rode him in the heat of the afternoon, the air in your bedroom thick with sweat and lust and humidity, his fingers sinking into your hips so deep you knew there’d be bruises in the morning. “Let me help,” he panted as you slowed down, your thighs searing from fucking yourself on his thick cock for what felt like ages, your pussy walls quaking from overstimulation. He held you in place as he lifted his hips off the mattress, thrusting up into you, disappearing into your slick folds as he eagerly aimed to wring another orgasm out of you.
“I—I can’t,” you stuttered, trying to scrape together the words to say your body was spent, that you wished you could keep going forever, letting him keep his pulsing cock buried inside you for as long as he wanted, but you simply couldn’t take anymore. You leaned forward and laid your head on his chest while he continued to drive himself into you, as you whispered, “Aoi, my legs.”
“Say no more, my angel, I’ve got you,” he cooed into your ear, as he lifted you off him and laid you on your back in a rapid motion.
“You know I love to see you under me like this,” he grinned as he placed a pillow under your head and gently stroked your cheek. His large body engulfed you, one massive arm on either side of you, while you wrapped your aching legs around his waist and pulled him into you, his cock sliding back into with ease. He never minded trapping you under him like prey, keeping you caged under his wide frame, while he slowly dragged himself in and out of you, your walls gripping him with every stroke.
“F-fuck, that’s it,” you cried as he hit that perfect spot, the one that made your legs quake and your heart feel like it was going to drum right out of your chest. You clenched around him as your orgasm came on suddenly and urgently, and it wasn’t long before his hips began to shudder and he moaned, long and loud, into your shoulder.
He kissed you—sweetly, adoringly—and smiled tenderly at you before moving to lay down beside you. You rolled over onto your side to slot in next to him, his arm already raised to accommodate you, just as it was every time. You ran your fingers over his chest, making repeating patterns on his skin, while he sighed and closed his eyes.
The sun was descending in the evening sky, and the room was filled with a golden light, shadows dancing over the bed. You hadn’t even thought about getting up to leave yet, and you found yourself missing him already.
--
It’s just for the summer.
The words you’d said to Todo so many weeks ago echoed in your mind as you laid curled in on yourself in his bed, covers thrown off you, your knees drawn up towards your chest, your eyes fixed on the blank wall in front of you. You knew it was the right thing to do—you’d known each other so long, worked together so often, there was no way this could be more than a fling, right? It only made sense that you’d see each other as a means to an end, a way to keep your minds and bodies occupied and stave off the loneliness that seemed to be inherent in your line of work.
“Mm, you alright angel?” you heard from behind you, Todo’s voice thick with sleep.
Angel.
From that very first night when you had tipsily proposed your summertime liaison, you were his sweet, lovely angel—it was sometimes “darling” or “baby” or “sweetheart,” but nearly always “angel,” a name you would have never accepted from anyone else, but when it dripped from his lips, it tasted like honey. The way he said it, it was as though it had been waiting to spill out of him, held tightly in his mouth like a secret, just waiting for the right moment. It was hard to feel like an angel when you knew the time would come when you’d have to cut him off and walk away. You sank further into your own thoughts as you answered, “I’m okay, I didn’t mean to wake you. My mind just doesn’t want to quiet down.”
“C’mere then, lemme chase those bad thoughts away.”
“Aoi, it’s okay, I—“
“No. I said c’mere.” He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you in with startling ease; you stiffened, tried to pull away, but it was no use with his thick arm wrapped firmly around you like steel cables, his face nestled in your hair, feeling his warm breath tickling the back of your neck.  He laid the blanket back over you, the fabric resting lightly against your skin. “Sleep well, angel, I’ll be right here with you,” he said groggily. “Don’t you worry.”
You laid in silence, letting yourself sink into him, placing your hand on his, as he pressed himself against you and you felt the rise and fall of his chest on your back, taking in the sensation of his warm skin cooled by the window fan. It’s just for the summer, you repeated, a hot, angry tear rolling down your cheek and onto the pillow as you felt an ache deep inside you that you couldn’t ignore.
Fuck. I think I could love him, you thought, I think I really could.
All those nights drinking beer and eating ramen after missions, listening to him blather on and on about Takada-chan’s talent and beauty—it wasn’t that you wished someone would talk about you the same way, it was that you wished Todo would talk about you in that same way. You knew now that he would, and he did—you’d come over at some ungodly hour in the middle of the night to “watch a movie” together, your hair a mess, dressed in sweats and whatever shirt was semi-clean, your skin glistening with sweat from your walk over to his apartment. As soon as he energetically swung open his front door, he’d pull you into his arms and nuzzle your neck and kiss every square inch of your face, telling you how good you looked, how lovely you smelled, asking you with only the utmost sincerity how it was that you could be dressed so casually and yet look so stunning. You melted for it every single time, feeling his hot breath against your damp skin, his touch urgent and hungry, like he had been missing you for a thousand years or more, even though it had been only half a day since you’d last seen each other.
But you told him and yourself over and over and over again, like some sort of grim mantra, that it was only a fling, one that was only meant to last as long as the heat of summer, and it would end when the breezes turned cool and the trees started to lose their green and prepared to turn vivid hues of crimson and orange. As the leaves began to wither and die, so would your love affair, and you would return to your positions as coworkers and occasional friends, return to watching each other’s backs during working hours and talking about the latest episode of a shared favorite show over soju and beer afterwards. It was, perhaps, why you let yourself lean into his overbearing affection, why you came running like a lovesick teenager every time he texted asking if you wanted to come over, why you’d lure him to your apartment with the promise of a home cooked dinner followed by worshipping his muscled body for as long as he desired—you wanted so badly to drink all of it in, to leave yourself intoxicated with his affection as the lengthy and languid days of summer faded away behind you.
You wondered to yourself how you were going to bring yourself to break his heart one of these days, but mostly wondered how you’d bring yourself to break your own.
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glittersploots · 3 years
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lighting practice w the loml
screenshot redraw from andromeda six!
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mintmatcha · 3 years
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ukai keishin - grumpy
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amy!!!! ty so much for the request- i really admire your writing and i hope you like this!!!]
Summary: just a snapshot of your relationship with keishin
Contains: NFSW, 18+, no reader pronouns, reader has a vagina, new relationship/established relationship, soft smut, slight mention of relationship issues.
ukai x reader
word count: 4k
cross posted: ao3
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The woody vine digs into the pad of your thumb as you pluck another pepper. The repetition has dug a noticeable indentation into the skin, one that makes you wince every time you harvest a vegetable. In the low light of pre-dawn, sun still tucked behind the mountains, you can't see the bruising on your fingers, but you can feel how it pulses. Popping the digit into your mouth, the warmth of your tongue is automatically soothing, so much so that you can ignore the soft taste of soil on your skin.
“I told you to bring gloves.” Keishin chides, barely looking up at you. He’s squatted a couple feet away, elbows resting on his thighs as he works. The rubber boots, with his oversized overalls crammed into the top, squeak every time he shifts. Pick, squeak, pick, squeak. You open your mouth to tease him, but the way his eyes meet yours, steeled and firm, tell you he’s not in the mood. Cinching his teeth around the worn leather, he pulls his hand from the glove and leaves it dangling from his mouth, lips curled to avoid touching the dust directly. Even in his goofy attire, there’s something about his focus- the downward cast of his eyes, the hint of his canine over the leather, the steadiness of his hands- that makes your heart flutter. Wordlessly, he takes the glove out of his mouth and tosses it your way. You catch it with a fumble.
“Are you sure?” you ask as you pull it on. The tips of the glove gap above your fingertips, bending outward as you clench your fist.  “What about you?”
He shrugs and returns to work. Even in the darkness you can see his scowl. “I guess I’m not as delicate as you.”
You didn’t blame him. He doesn’t mean to be this… grumpy. This was the worst time of year for Keishin; harvest season overlapped with volleyball preliminaries. The late nights he had been pulling with the team after work on top of these early mornings at his family’s farm had to be draining. It was no wonder that date nights had become nearly nonexistent. It didn’t help that your work schedule often led to you working on the weekends, meaning that between the two of you there were no free days. Sleepovers are far and few between; both of you still live at home and, despite the fact you are both well into your twenties, your parents weren’t too keen on your sleeping next to someone while unwed. No free days, no free nights.
Again, you didn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he was trying to avoid you, three jobs was a lot for anyone. It was hard to ignore your concern for his well-being, but he was always quick to dismiss your worries. ‘I’m an adult.’ he always insisted. ‘I can balance myself.’ 
Was it selfish to miss him? Was it selfish to wish there was an extra hour in his day for you? 
“You didn’t have to come.” Ukai says, matter-of-fact. “You should be sleeping right now.” 
“I want to be here.” you insist. It’s almost a lie. Do you really want to be here, squatting in the dirt, picking vegetables at 5:30am? Of course not, but you wanted to be here for him. With him. 
The metal thermos at your feet wobbles as you adjust, the deep squat you’ve been sitting in starting to ache deep in your thighs. Dropping forward onto your knees, the gravel of the path digging into your kneecaps, you wrap your hands around the metal, pressing it against your chest to feel the ambient warmth. The blonde doesn’t turn from his work, but he does tilt his head towards you, a small sign of his attention.
“You gonna hold it or drink it?’ 
You huff before taking a delicate sip, trying to avoid burning your lips. “I’m savoring it, ‘Shin.”
“ ‘Savoring it.’ ” he repeats. The grit of sleep still clings to his voice. He sounds weathered, tired. “Are you gonna let me ‘savor’ some of that?”
“Maybe.” you take another sip before placing the cup back down, this time closer to him, a silent invitation. It’s like trying to feed a stray cat, luring him in with the promise of something tasty. “If you’re good.”
A long moment passes and he doesn’t move, he just studies you. There may have been a flicker of a smile, a hint of a good mood hiding underneath the surface, but it's gone before you can process it.
“You know.” he says, “I don’t know how you do it.” he continues working with bare hands and, even without protection, he works so much faster than you. You can tell he’s been doing this for years; every twist of his wrist seems practiced. It’s something you try and emulate each time you’re here with him, but it only slows you down more. 
“Do what?”
Keishin finally stops. He chews his cheek for a moment, eyes flickering across your features. He opens his mouth, then shuts it with a sigh as he weakly gestures to the thermos at your feet. “The coffee. How do you make the coffee?”
You can’t help but sigh as you fall back onto your seat. You cross your legs as you grab the thermos, taking a deep pull. Again, you savor it with a hum and Keishin snorts at your antics. He picks from the row of plants once more before standing. Hands on the back of his pelvis, he stretches slowly, popping his back with the same care an old man would. It reminds you of his grandfather, but you keep that remark to yourself. 
“ ‘Shin, you make yourself coffee every day- probably the same way I do.” you say as he plops himself next to you. The cup is already waiting for him when he reaches for it.
“But yours is always better.” he doesn’t say it with the sweetness of a compliment- he says it like a fact. It shouldn’t make you smile this wide, but it does. He blows over the lid of the mug, watching the steam twist into the air for a moment before taking a drink. It was your coffee, but  you had made it for him- just a splash of cream, a crazy amount of sugar: just the way he likes it.  The crinkle at the corner of his eye as drinks tells you that he notices. 
“Are you savoring it?” you ask. He just closes his eyes and sighs.
"I guess I am."
Even without looking, his pinky finds yours, looping together gently. It's the gloveless hand, finding yours. Bare skin against bare skin, warmth against warm. Your body prickles with warmth as he squeezes; something about him pulling you closer, even if it’s just a finger’s width closer, makes your heart jump.  It’s funny how the smallest gesture makes you melt. Keishin didn’t always have a lot to give you; your relationship was a collection of these small moments together, settled between his jobs and yours, but it was enough. 
Every moment together is restorative.
“Cinnamon.” you press a kiss into his shoulder as you snag your cup back. He peeks at you through one open eye,  “I put cinnamon in the coffee.”
Keishin leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder. He nuzzles into your sleeve, drawing in a deep breath, before pulling away to sit up straight again. Reaching back into the row of plants before you, he plucks one carefully before dropping it into the bucket. “Nah, that’s not it.”
You blink. “Uh, yeah. It is.”
“Nah. It’s because it’s made with love.” he smirks.
You pretend to think for a moment. "Actually, I didn't make this cup with love- so you're wrong."
He rolls his head back to watch you. "Oh yeah?"
"I made it with hate." 
"Really." he tilts his body, chest pressed against your shoulder.
"You didn’t taste my loathing?" you tease.
The tip of his nose grazes your ear, nudging you softly. His breath warms the side of your face, lips just a moment from your skin. He’s patient, waiting for you to come to him. You try and resist for just a moment, but he nudges you with a huff. 
You can’t help but crumble.
 There’s a hint of a chuckle as you finally turn to meet his lips. The kiss is off center, connecting at the corner of your mouth. You try to pull back to correct it when a leathered hand grips on to your jaw and he holds your face steady, squishing your lips with sheer force. Ukai doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping your lower lip before dipping into your mouth. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon, sweet and bitter. With every movement, he savors you, pulling you deeper and deeper until the both of you are twisted into each other's embrace. 
When he pulls away, it’s too soon. It’s not until he’s panting against you that you realize your own lungs are burning for air, almost as if your hunger for him had outweighed your need to breathe.
He hums thoughtfully. “I dunno, tastes like love to me.”
You roll your eyes, trying to bite back your smirk as you lean in for another kiss. “God, you’re the worst, Shin.”
This time, he doesn’t connect. Instead, he pulls away, mouth downturned once again as he stares back into the sea of green. It’s an unfocused stare, focused more on his thoughts than his surroundings. 
“Yeah, I kinda am, aren’t I?”
“Hey, what-” you struggle with what to say. “Don’t be like that.”
“I mean, it’s true.” he shrugs. “This is our first date in, what? 3 weeks? And we’re working on my fucking grandpa’s-”
Your elbow cracks against the soft of his ribs, a bit harder than necessary. He wheezes slightly as you knock the air out of him. “Negativity be gone.”
He whines a bit too dramatically. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with you? Did you learn that from Sugawara? I’m never letting you watch a game ever again.”
It’s hard to hold back your smirk. “I mean- it worked! I’m not going to let you ruin the moment with your nega-!”
“Shut up for a second!” he says and this time he’s the one throwing an elbow. “I’m trying to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend!”
“You shut up!” you mirror him, but he’s ready this time. His response is quick, catching your arms against his. You two continue, poking back and forth roughly, laughter bubbling up. “You don’t need to apologize for being busy!”
“Well, I’m going to.” he grabs the edge of your shirt, leaning into you once again. “Come here and accept it.”
The gravel shifts under your feet as you scramble to stand, pulling out of his grasp. He watches you in confusion as you back away, but his look quickly transforms into something playfully predatory. The shift is wordless, but both of you understand the game that’s about to unfold. 
“Come. Here.”
“No way.”
You turn on your heel and run. Keishin’s quick, grunting with effort as he throws himself forward. The sound of his shoes, squeaking against the rock, is faster than you anticipate and you have to force your legs to pump quicker. The  cool morning air burns your throat as you barrel down the row, the dew covered leaves brushing against your arms and leaving wet stripes. Something about the simple act of moving dissolves all your tension, all your worries. 
You turn your head to check in on your pursuer. Keishin is behind you, running with just as much force as you, but he’s grinning ear to ear with breathless laugh. It’s not his usual mischievous grin, but a soft one. A relaxed one. His baseball cap is halfway off of his head, caught by the wind, but he doesn’t reach to save it. He’s too busy reaching for you.
Everything is quiet except the two of you, laughing breathlessly as you chase each other like children. The sun has just started to crest the mountains, illuminating the sky with a blur of pastels. The pink of the sky reflects in his hair, catching in the glint of his eye as his gaze meets yours, and something in your brain tells you that you’ll remember this exact moment for the rest of your life.  You want the moment to freeze, to stay  in this childish bliss forever-
-but, of course, it doesn’t.
The rubber toe of Keishin’s boot catches a rock, sending him tumbling forward into a slow fall. He stumbles, catching himself for a moment before falling onto his knees, then his face. With a wince, he rolls on to his back, arms and legs spread eagle in defeat. Oversized pants, chunky boots, a stupid baseball cap: he looked more like an exhausted toddler than an adult. You slow to a jog, trying to pretend his fall wasn’t absolutely hilarious, but your stomach is clenching with the repressed laughter. Backtracking, you join his crumbled form.
“You okay?” you’re panting much harder than you should be. God,  shouldn’t the smoker be less athletic? 
“No, I think I’m really hurt.” 
“Where? Your knees?” you drop to your knees immediately and reach for him, taking his hands in yours. The palm of his non gloved hand is scraped, but there’s no sign of blood. 
“My ego.” he groans, “I think I bruised it.”
You  let out something that isn’t quite a sigh or a groan. “You jerk.” you lean down and place a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over where it crinkles when he smiles. “You had me worried for a second.”
He cranes forward to press his lips against yours, but only going as far as to brush his lips against yours. Every movement of your lips is a ghost against his, each breath more present than the feeling of skin. Each kiss is just a tease, barely a taste, and it makes you feel hungry. His hand circles your waist before drawing a line up your spine and your hunger deepens, burning deep into your core.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.” he says against your skin, hand guiding you closer to him. You lay down next to him, resting your head on his bicep. It should feel silly, to be laying in the dirt, in the middle of the field, but there’s something so natural about being with him that makes you forget about your surroundings. There’s something natural and unadulterated about being quiet with each other.
“It won’t be like this forever, I promise.” he’s the first to break the silence. “One day, we’ll see each other every day. Just- be patient with me.”
You kiss his shoulder. “You’re worth the wait.” you place another one a few inches upwards. “I miss you, but you’ll always be worth the wait.”
Ukai rolls, throwing a knee over your hips to loom over you. His bangs tickle your forehead as he kisses you. It’s short. “I miss you.”
He places another peck on your lips. “Every day.”
Another kiss catches you off guard. “Every night.” 
Another one. This one is long enough for you to kiss back. “Constantly. I miss you constantly.”
You hook a leg over his ass, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons holding his overalls up. “Prove it.”
He hesitates. Tilting his head up, he holds his breath as he scans the row, searching for any signs of movement in the distance. Until now, you had forgotten that other people even exist. The air is still, only the distant sound of crows cutting through the silence. His muscles relax against you after a moment, gaze returning to study your features. 
“I missed you.” he leans in and breathes into the shell of your ear before sinking his canines into the lobe. The sharpness sends you keening in surprise, pressing yourself farther into him. He takes the opportunity to tuck his arm under the arch of your back, using the angle to hold your hips against his, his forming bulge pressed right against your core. Your hands are still twiddling with the clasp on his overalls, your proximity to him making the simple task much harder than it should be. Every one of his movements is pulling you into him, like he can’t get you close enough to be satisfied. He sucks on the soft on your neck finishing the hickey off with a bite.
“Why’d you wear these stupid, ugly pants?” you huff as you finally free a button. Ukai breaks away from your neck to laugh before tracing his tongue across the bruise. The warmth surprises you and you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. 
“Fuck off.” his free hand easily unclinches your pants before shoving them down. The denim digs into the plush of your thighs as he struggles to place himself between your legs. The ground is cold and coarse against your bare skin, but you can’t focus on anything other than the heat of his breath trailing down your neck.
“Fuck- I missed you.” he repeats as you finally unclasp his overalls and slide them down. They hang off his hips, just low enough for his erection to hang over the fabric, his dooling cockhead resting against your stomach. Firmly, he taps his cock against you with a soft thwack, watching the translucent strings of precum connecting you stretch and break. It dribbles on the hem of your shirt and you want to admonish him for it, but when your eyes meet, his blown out pupils take your words away. The way he watches you, eyes hazed over with lust, is borderline feral. All you can do is kick down a pant leg, freeing your leg and allowing it to fall farther open for him.
Keishin slides further down you, greedily dragging the spongy head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. Each pass across your clit makes you twitch, thighs squeezing around his hips.  With a wolfish grin, he splits your cunt with his free hand and whistles at the sight. 
“I missed this pretty little pussy.” he pressed forward unceremoniously and the head of his cock squeezes into you with a pop. The stretch aches, but something deeper in you is burning for more. “Fuck, look how wet you are… “
He’s quick to bottom out, slamming his hips into yours as if he can’t hold back any longer. His eyes are struggling to stay open as he rolls his hips against you faster, struggling to continue watching your poor pussy struggle to take him. The weeks without him have left you desperate, hips uncontrollably bucking against his. The rhythm is off, your bodies struggling to keep up with each other and just ending up slamming against each other unevenly. It’s wild,  it leaves you breathless but your approaching high is so painfully close, neither of you can slow down to gather yourselves.
“You’re so good, fuck, so tight…” his head lolls forward, eyes fluttering closed, “You… so good… so hot… fuck, I missed you.”
Your hands wander up the front of his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. “Ple-ase, Keishin.” you beg, too breathless to say anything else. The sound of your voice makes him crumple over with a whine, fingers digging painfully hard into the fat of your hips as he struggles to pull you impossibly close. His cock twitches, spilling pulse after pulse of hot cum deep inside you. 
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” he murmurs, hips dragging out of you slowly. The movement makes you feel sloppy, the mixture of his cum and yours spilling down the crack of your ass. The sheer lewdness of it makes your core clench with desire, but the fading heat in your core makes you feel borderline nauseous. 
As you begin to untangle yourself, trying to hide your disappointment, he pulls you back in.
“Don’t.” he whispers into your chest. “I’m not- I’m not done with you.”
Ukai’s headband has slipped backwards, barely hanging on to the back of his head. The mess of blonde, half of it plastered to his forehead, tickles your cheek as he kisses your cheek. The edge of desperation is gone, replaced with something gentler, as he rolls back into you. Every bit of friction has been replaced with the slick, warmness of his cum. 
“I wanna wake up next to you every day.” Something about cumming has made him sappy. His hand dips low to circle your clit, tracing those practiced patterns you love so much. This time, instead of a fast, dangerous rise, the heat inside you pours slowly, like magma flowing through your core. 
“I’m going to buy you a big ol’ house.” he mumbles into your chest, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “And a pretty little ring. And -oh fuck you feel so good-  and, and you’re never gonna miss me again.” 
God, the term making love is corny, so impossibly cringey, but as he whispers those promises into your skin, you understand it. It’s more about the need to feel closer, the need to hold and be held. It’s three weeks of emotions that neither of you can vocalize.
Fuck, you feel so full. Physically, emotionally. Every caress is tender, delicate and appreciative. Your thumbs trace over his crow’s feet and for the umpteeth time this morning, you savor the moment. 
“I wanna be with you forever.”
Everything feels in focus- the friction of his jeans against your knees, the fabric clinging to your stomach, prickled with sweat, the ministrations of your lover’s lips against your skin as he whispers sweet nothings into you- but everything fades as you cum. Your orgasm hits slowly; you don’t even know you’re there until your legs are kicking out uncontrollably. Fingers tangled in the cotton of his shirt, you keen one last time. In the blur, you’re faintly aware of him joining you, his words dissolving into whines.
It takes a heartbeat for everything to still again. Keishin tilts his head up, studying you for a moment before speaking. 
“���M so tired.” he essentially collapses on you, knocking the air out of your lungs. The lay he goes immediately slack in your arms would have been cute if whte weight of his body wasn’t pressing our bare skin into the gravel under you.  “I’m gonna nap.”
After quickly ruffling his hair, you press him up, gentling encouraging him to get off. “Come on, sleepyhead, your grandpa’s gonna start looking for us if we’re gone for too long.”
Keishin grimaces, propping himself up onto his elbows as he withdraws from you. The air against the mess on your thighs makes you shiver. “Please don’t mention the old man while I’m still inside you.”
He falls back into his heels and leaves you laying there. Before adjusting himself, he takes your bare leg by the ankle and tries to slip your pant leg back on. The hem gets caught on your heel and he fumbles.
“I can dress myself, Shin, you don’t have to.” you sigh, even as you adjust to make it easier. Denim sticks to your wet skin and he continues to work, completely ignoring your protest. As you lift your hips, letting him slide it past your waist. “Did you mean it?” 
He hums a question, buttoning your pants.
“You really wanna spend the rest of your days with me?”
Ukai looks up at you. “Well. Yeah, of course.” he smiles, “Who else is gonna put cinnamon in my coffee?”
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bubblegumbeech · 3 years
Text
Homemade
Day 2 Dannymay: Home
Clockwork made cookies, they were a special blend he’d invented through countless trial and error to get just right. For a ghost, they'd have enough concentrated ectoplasm to provide energy and enough positive emotion to make them enjoyable, and for a human child, he focused on getting the right flavors and physical ingredients to make them actually edible.
 He set the plate down in front of Danny. The young half-ghost had been working really hard at his homework lately and Clockwork wanted to do something small to reward him for it.
 “Are- did you make cookies?” Danny asked, looking up at him in confusion.
 Clockwork smiled and gently ruffled his hair. “Will you tell me how they taste?”
 Most ghosts lost the ability to taste early on, along with their sense of smell. Clockwork never had either though, only had glimpses into different futures with different recipes and Danny’s own reactions to them.
 “Please tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve made cookies…” Danny made a face, uncertain.
 Clockwork rolled his eyes and grabbed the plate again, “you don’t have to eat them-“
 “I’ll eat them!” Danny grabbed the plate from Clockwork’s hands, a splash of green decorating his cheeks and forming a stark contrast against his starlit freckles.
 Braced as if for impact, Danny quickly shoved one of the still warm cookies into his mouth and began to chew. Slowly his features softened into enjoyment and Clockwork got to watch as he grabbed another and then another until the entire plate was clean.
 He was glowing slightly, the oven-baked ectoplasm doing wonders for his energy levels. Existing so long on ambient ectoplasm alone wouldn’t have been nearly enough for a young ghost like Danny, so it was nice to see him properly fed for once.
 “Clockwork, these are amazing! How did you make them?” Danny asked, his eyes shining slightly.
 “That’s a secret,” Clockwork lied. He didn’t want to admit it took him over a thousand tries to actually make something edible to a human pallet, and he had enough of a mysterious air about him that he’d get away with it.
 Danny didn’t seem to mind though, he just grabbed the plate and flew over to the kitchen so he could wash it. “Okay, what do I have to bribe you with to get those again?”
 Clockwork’s core hummed in satisfaction, it was almost a primal instinct to care for one’s child and it was always nice to be appreciated. “Finished homework would be a nice start.”
 Danny scoffed, a small smile on his face. “I think you need to lower your standards. I mean, I’m passing history now right?” The single dish was cleaned, dried, and put away in less than a moment.
 “Thank you Daniel,” Clockwork said. Danny didn’t get nearly enough appreciation from those around him, it never hurt to give him a little when he could.
 A light green blush built on Danny’s cheeks and he looked away in an attempt to hide his reaction. “Yeah well, you make cookies like that again and I’ll clean your whole clock tower.”
 Clockwork smirked, lifting an eyebrow. “The infinite spirals of my clock tower and the unending trails of time that exist ever moving inside of it would certainly appreciate a touch up.”
 Danny balked, “uh… maybe I can do a room at a time?”
 “You don’t have to clean anything for cookies Daniel. I’d rather you eat than not.”
 Relieved, Danny rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “Thanks Clockwork.” He sighed and dropped his hand, looking over at the window to the realms outside. “Ugh, I don’t wanna go to school tomorrow.”
 There wasn’t much to say, so Clockwork didn’t. He didn’t particularly care about Danny’s academics or whether or not he succeeded in school, but he knew intimately how much it mattered to Danny. It was tied to his two obsessions after all.
   He had to go to school so he could both make his family happy and be there to protect the other students, he had to succeed if he ever wanted to fulfill his dreams of working at NASA, the human space program. At the thought of absolute failure he would stress, shut down, and grow apart from those close to him. It would put strain on his obsessions and could lead to internal core damage. It was better for now, that Clockwork simply gave him time and the chance to try and keep up.
 “You’re always welcome to visit if you need more time,” he offered.
 “I know. I’ve uh, still got homework to finish…”
 “By all means.” Clockwork followed Danny out of the kitchen and watched as he sat back down to finish his homework, content with the healthy glow the cookies gave Danny.
 He turned back to his own work and watched for anything that didn’t fit or was causing trouble, but his mind was on the next recipe he wanted to try.
       The next recipe ended up being a casserole.
 Cliche to be sure, but decidedly more filling and sufficient than just a plate of cookies, and this time when Clockwork set it down in front of his young ward he was met with more enthusiasm than suspicion. Despite the bright pink color and the more… mobile parts of the dish. It was difficult to make something that met all the necessary requirements to properly nourish a halfa      and     have it look appealing so Clockwork had hardly tried.
 Danny dug in.
 “This is the most amazing casserole I’ve ever had in my life and that includes any and all ecto-contaminated food I’ve ever snuck out of the fridge without my parents noticing how did you do that?” Danny asked, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.
 Clockwork purred at the praise, and was glad to see Danny’s glow get even brighter. It was so pale before, barely even there in a way it never should have been with Danny’s obsession and power. “I suppose the difference would be that I was doing it intentionally.”
 Danny nodded. “Makes sense.” He took a moment to pause from devouring his food to look up over at Clockwork sitting across the table from him. “Are you going to eat anything?”
 How thoughtful. He should have probably prepared for that but, well. “I’m afraid trying to eat something with that much physical matter from the human world would go poorly for me. If you’re uncomfortable I can make some tea?”
 “Oh,” Danny looked at his half finished meal, realizing something and unable to react properly to it. “Yeah, tea sounds nice, can I have some too?”
 “Of course,” Clockwork agreed easily. He would be using a delicate mixture of herbs and spices from different parts of the infinite realms that Sojourn liked to gift him whenever he bothered to visit. None of them should have any adverse effects on the boy, and if he chose the right mixture, it might actually help him to calm down slightly.
 By the time the tea was finished and cooled enough to drink, Danny had finished his meal and cleaned up so that the two could sit and enjoy their tea together.
 Danny spent a moment too long staring into his cup, the swirling neon blue of the forgoent leaves—a small blue plant native to some of the darker forest realms, similar to the mortal realm’s forget-me-nots. Clockwork didn’t know what he was thinking, couldn’t see a timeline where he actually spoke his thoughts out loud. He sighed and took a drink of his own cup, the tea’s soothing blend serving to take off the slight edge of his anxiety. It was difficult caring for a child, even with his power.
 “Thanks for the tea Clockwork,” Danny said, “and uh, the casserole too.”
 His voice was quiet, but sincere and Clockwork accepted his thanks with a small nod of his head. The rest of the evening went on like that, mostly silent but not unpleasant in each other's company. When Danny left to go back to the mortal realm he paused at the clock tower’s door and quickly turned back to Clockwork, pulling him into a quick, tight hug that had him almost freezing time instinctually before Danny pulled away and quickly flew off.
 Clockwork stayed there, floating in the entryway to his lair and felt his core practically screaming at him in delight.
 He needed a way to distract himself, maybe he could start working on another recipe?
     Pie was unnecessarily difficult, Clockwork decided, despite its place as the most popular fairy-tale dish ever mentioned. He’d made no less than three thousand six hundred and four different variations of the damned recipe and not a single one had even stayed together, much less been even remotely edible.
 He sighed. At this rate, even freezing time wouldn’t help him accomplish this before Danny arrived. He was admittedly impatient for an immortal entity with all of time under his control, and he wanted to actually be able to spend time with his ward rather than an eternity trying, and failing, to bake something.
 Which is exactly how Danny had caught him taking a failed experiment out of the oven, having arrived while Clockwork was distracted.
 “Is that a pie?” he asked, excitedly reaching for it.
 Clockwork quickly held it out of the young halfa’s reach, unwilling to allow him near his utter failure.
 Danny blinked, his face drooping into an exaggerated pout, “I can’t have some?” Clockwork felt his core ache a little. Maybe he should have stopped time until he got it right?
 “It’s not fit for consumption at the moment,” he said, carefully floating it out of reach and towards the end of the counter. He didn’t have anything resembling a human trash can, it was uncomfortable to keep waste in one’s lair afterall, so he’d have to leave it on the counter for now. He could dispose of it properly later, maybe as fertilizer for his garden.
 “Oh don’t be like that,” Danny said, floating around Clockwork and completely ignoring his very valid warning. “I’m sure it’s fine, everything else you’ve made has been delicious.”
 Well yes, everything else he’d made had been very much intended to be delicious. This one was a failure. However, Clockwork wasn’t going to admit to the amount of effort that had gone into each and every piece of food he’d made for his young ward. It would be uncomfortable at best for Danny and horridly embarrassing for Clockwork.
 “I’ll make another one for next time, please-” Clockwork didn’t even finish his sentence before Danny was grabbing a piece of the crust and shoving it into his mouth. “Daniel!”
 Danny smiled. “Yeah okay not your best work, but it’s edible for sure.” He grabbed another piece and ate that as well and Clockwork didn’t really know what to do. On one hand, he was right: it was certainly edible, there would be no adverse effects caused by Danny eating the food, and it would be just as nourishing as the other meals Clockwork provided. But on the other hand, it could not have tasted pleasant. All of the futures where he tried serving this to Danny as normal were met with disappointment at best.
 So why was he content to eat it like this?
 “I knew you couldn’t be perfect,” Danny snickered. He grabbed a fork and a plate from their places in the kitchen and then floated over to the table, pie-adjacent pastry in hand. “Are you gonna make tea again?”
 “Yes,” Clockwork answered, glaring at the pie. The horrid pie that Danny was eating because not every single meal needed to be perfect and Clockwork, as always, had been over-complicating everything.
 The atmosphere at the table was soft and comfortable. It was certainly something Clockwork was unused to, enjoying company for company’s sake. And to think they wouldn’t be here as they were, had Clockwork succeeded fully with his task. It brings up a question, actually thousands of different, related, questions, about failure and success and the weight of either.
 Danny smiled at him from over the half eaten pie. Clockwork smiled back.
 An alarm went off and Danny shoved one last bite into his mouth before flying off towards the main room of the clocktower. “Shoot, I forgot I promised Jazz to let her help with my english homework.”
 There was a flurry of papers while Danny tried to gather all of his things. Pencils shoved precariously into his bag and folders of half finished homework assignments quickly followed. The half finished pie on the kitchen table was completely ignored, as it should have been to start with.
 “You seem to be in a rush,” Clockwork said, watching amusedly. Either Danny had forgotten Clockwork’s particular powerset in his haste, or he hadn’t thought to ask for a medallion. Either way Clockwork found it too amusing to offer his aide unless Danny thought to ask.
 “Yeah, yeah,” Danny tried to say over the strap of the backpack he held in his mouth in lieu of his busy hands. “I’ll be back home s-”
 Danny blushed and stuttered out something awkward and intended to drag attention away from the slip of his tongue. But Clockwork just smiled, watching the boy finally gather his things and quickly make his exit promising to come back tomorrow for dinner.
 Wasn’t there a human saying about home and food?
307 notes · View notes
salemorbit · 3 years
Text
By Suprise
[MHA x genderneutral!Reader]
Headcanons for Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki
~~~~~~~
first kissesssssss how they would do it bc i'm soft like that hehehe
~~~~~~~
❄️Todoroki 🔥
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whoooooo boy this man
when i say This Man
Yes, he's mostly emotionally oblivious but alas...
You had had a crush on Todoroki since the first day of class 1-A
When you walked in and chose your seat, everything was going smoothly
Until He Walked In
And Oh My God
You could've sworn it raised ten degrees in the classroom and it wasn't just todoroki's quirk as you felt your face heat up at the sight of the pretty boy
And then he sat next to you and your entire world froze
From then on, you were always so nervous around Todoroki and flustered whenever he would ask you a question about an assignment or if he could borrow a pencil
You greatly admired his quirk and his control over either side of his body, jealous of the fact that he had such an amazing quirk that caught the eye of tons of hero agencies
Little did you know, Todoroki also had feelings for you as well *eyebrow wiggle*
He thought your personality was amazing, and your skills in battle were astounding when both improvisational and strategic
Poor guy totally fell for you in a matter of days
It wasn't until near your graduation from UA that Todoroki grew a pair and decided to shoot his shot before your hero agency whisked you away from him for good
With proper support from Midoriya and Bakugou Todoroki invited you to a celebratory dinner for your graduation and planned to seal the deal then
Todoroki nervously fiddled with his hands under the table, staring down the candle in the middle of it intensely. It was two minutes until your scheduled meeting time, but Todoroki had arrived ten minutes early to get over his nerves.
A minute later, you walked in with all smiles, and your eyes twinkling under the ambient light, and your hair done exactly the way he liked it, and--
He wasn't over his nerves.
Todoroki awkwardly stood up as you came toward him, returning your smile gently.
"Hey, Shotou!" You said, sitting down across from him. "Long time, no see," you joked. Todoroki smiled at your lax nature and sat down again, gripping his napkin tightly.
"You look wonderful, [Y/N]," he commented, trying not to let the nerves shine through. You felt yourself blush at the compliment, waving it away bashfully.
"Oh, stop that," you grinned. "You look dashing as always, Sho."
Todoroki's cheeks flared as the waiter came over to take your orders. Miraculously, Todoroki didn't stutter or make a fool out of himself the whole night. The two of you just chatted about the upcoming graduation plans and futures with your respective hero agencies. His heart raced at the fear of possibly backing out of his plan last minute, but Todoroki scolded himself for his anxiety. He was going to do this, whether his legs were shaking or not.
At the end of the dinner, Todoroki walked you back to your third-year dorms. Your conversation never slacked, flowing normally between you two with the foundation of your friendship for the last three years.
You walked close to Todoroki, hand brushing against his every now and again, and you would be lying if you said it wasn't on purpose. As you arrived in front of your dorm door, you both fell quiet. It was the first time in the night that it was awkward, neither of you willing to look the other in the face. You cleared your throat and glanced up at Todoroki, noticing his red-tipped ears. A smile flitted across your face.
"Thank you for tonight," you said, rocking back and forth on your feet. "It was really fun! We should do it again sometime, you know, to catch up with our hero agencies and all."
"Yes, that would be nice," Todoroki nodded stiffly. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as silence blossomed between you again.
"Well, good night," you said, turning to unlock your door. Right as you opened it to step inside, Todoroki stopped you.
"Wait," he said, quickly grabbing your wrist with one hand and tugging on it. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around with his pull.
And suddenly you were right in front of him, looking into his bi-colored eyes that were mere inches from your own. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized the proximity, one of your hands instinctively going to his shoulder to steady yourself while his own hand held your wrist gently.
"I-" You started out, but Todoroki nervously interrupted you.
"If you're uncomfortable-" He rushed out, but you shook your head, smiling slightly.
"No, this is good."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," you breathed out, swallowing thickly. There were a few seconds of quiet before Todoroki's eyes flicked down to your mouth then back to your eyes.
Then his lips were on yours, soft and hesitant, giving you the option to pull away if you'd like. Luckily for Todoroki, you returned the favor, deepening the caresses and moving to interlace your fingers with his.
The moment was tender and vulnerable, spilling out three years worth of pining and stolen glances when the other wasn't looking. You smiled into the kiss, pulling away to catch a breath.
Todoroki looked flushed, an excited gleam in his eyes that bore into yours. You knew how he felt without him having to utter a word, and vice versa.
Stepping backward toward your door, you smiled more fully at him, apparently not able to wipe the look off your face. Todoroki had a dazed look in his eyes as you leaned against the doorway.
"Good night, Sho," you said, squeezing his hand before letting go. He nodded, a stupid grin on his beautiful face.
"Good night, [Y/N]."
••••
💥Bakugou💥
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If you think you're making the first move with Bakugou, you are sorely mistaken
With his incredibly spicy attitude, it was no mystery why you would always get so frustrated with Bakugou so quickly
This is kind of like an enemies to lovers situation, ya dig?
Walking into UA, you had known Bakugou sparingly throughout elementary and middle school
There were a few words exchanged here and there, but nothing lengthy until you found out you would be in the same hero course with him at UA
During the first year, you got to know him a little better
You got to see how he fought, how he learned, how he pissed you off
And he also got to see all those same qualities from you :)
But underneath all of that surface level rage and red-haze lay thick layers of admiration and romantic feelings you both had toward each other
tho you totally wouldn't outright admit it
It wasn't until halfway through your second year at UA that things really started to heat up between the two of you (no pun intended)
It all started with a group assignment that paired you with Tsuyu, Kaminari, and Bakugou
Let's just say...things escalated pretty quickly
"You're an absolute ass, and you know it, Bakugou!" Your voice rang through the common area, despite it being relatively late in the evening and most of your classmates were in their rooms relaxing.
Or at least trying to relax, but becoming unsuccessful when your and Bakugou's voices reached decibels such as these. Even Jirou couldn't stand the noise.
"Maybe if you listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't have to recalculate all of your stupid equations!" Bakugou snarled back, throwing his papers onto a table. They spread out and fluttered to the floor, creating another mess you would have to clean up later.
Poor Tsuyu and Kaminari watched the back and forth for several minutes, not daring to intervene between your quarrel. With Bakugou's explosions dotting the air around his clenched fists and your quirk making your aura radiate intense energy? No, thanks.
"That's rich, coming from you," you scoffed, crossing your arms. Bakugou huffed and took a threatening step closer to you.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" His voice got dangerously low, but you were determined not to let your facade crumble. You lifted your chin higher indignantly.
"Uh, guys?" Kaminari gulped. "Maybe we should take a break-"
"Piss off, Sparky!" You and Bakugou yelled at the same time. Kaminari withered in his seat, exchanging a worried look with Tsuyu. The frog-girl just shrugged, trying to finish her own work in the meantime.
"You're so unbelievably dense, Bakugou," you let your head fall into your hands. The fiery blond grit his teeth and clenched his fists.
"Says you."
"You know what? I've had enough of your insults-"
"You've had enough of my insults? Eat shit and die."
"Take your own advice!" You yelled, throwing the last of your papers at Bakugou and finally storming out of the room. Bakugou let out a frustrated roar and fell back into his seat, shoving his hands into his pockets.
For the first time that evening, the common room was quiet. Bakugou was silently seething in his seat, not touching any of the papers that flew to the floor. It went like this for about five minutes until Tsuyu spoke up.
"Bakugou," she cleared her throat, "maybe you should go apologize to [Y/N]. What you said was kind of uncalled for."
"Yeah," Kaminari hesitantly agreed, testing the waters. "You were kinda rough with them."
"Well, maybe if they weren't so stupid then I wouldn't have had to say shit like that," Bakugou grumbled. He was quiet for a moment before he sighed, getting up.
"I don't need you extras sopping all over me," he grunted, walking out the door. "I'll go find them."
The sun was setting as you sat on the bench outside the dorms, trying your best not to cry. Tears welled up at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You couldn't let Bakugou get to you like that. He didn't deserve to get to you like that.
You sniffed and looked down at your hands, feeling a pang in your chest. Did he really think you were that stupid? Did he really want you out of his way? You dryly laughed to yourself, wiping at your eyes. Of course he wouldn't want you, you thought. He was dead set on his future and you were just an obstacle he needed to step over. You meant less to him than you wanted to.
"Hey."
Your head snapped up to see Bakugou standing a few feet away from you, hands in his pockets and eyes trained on you. You frowned, purposefully looking away from him.
"I said, 'hey.' What, did you go mute all of a sudden?" Bakugou scowled at you when you didn't turn to look at him. He sighed deeply before looking out at the sunset himself.
"I'm sorry."
Your breath caught in your throat at the words. Did Bakugou, the Bakugou Katsuki, really just apologize? And to you of all people? You turned a surpised gaze to his standing figure, eyes on his profile. His scowl was softened as he looked at the sun, golden light washing over his features.
In that moment, he was beautiful. And your face heated up at the realization, butterflies swarming your stomach. Flustered, you shifted in your seat, attempting to compose yourself.
"You feel sick or something?" You teased.
"A guy can't apologize without it being weird?" Bakugou shot back, eyebrows furrowed, annoyed.
"It's a little out of character for you specifically," you tilted your head to look at him.
"Yeah? Well, it's 'a little out of character' to just walk away from a fight," he mocked you. You shook your head, standing up to face him.
"Do you ever stop?"
"Do you ever shut up?"
"What's your issue, Bakugou?"
"Maybe you're my issue!"
"What does that even mean?" You spread your arms exasperatedly. Bakugou took two steps toward you.
"It means what I want it to mean," he growled.
"Care to share?"
"Shut up!"
"Make me!"
Bakugou grabbed your waist and pulled you close, forcefully joining his lips with yours. Your hands found their way onto the sides of his head as he gripped one hand on your torso and the other in your hair. The kiss was furious, passionate, and longing all rolled into one.
It eventually slowed down as soon as it started, your previously knitted brows relaxing as you two found a rhythm in the madness. He smelled of singed wood and something sweet underneath. Exactly what you expected.
Breaking away with a gasp, you let your hands slide down his neck and rest on his shoulders. You searched his eyes for anything negative: regret, disgust, anger. Instead, you found a firm softness looking back into your own.
"Hey," you whispered, unable to raise your voice any louder. He smirked at your speechlessness.
"Hey," he replied smoothly, wrapping both arms around your waist. You smiled, playing with the locks of hair at the back of his neck.
"I'd like more where that came from," you quirked an eyebrow at him playfully. Bakugou just rolled his eyes and took your hand from his neck begrudgingly, pulling you toward the dorm entrance.
"Get your calculations right, and maybe we can negotiate."
••••
Midoriya
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soft boy soft boy soft boy soft boy
We all know that if Midoriya finds someone he likes, this boy PINES
Pines like a mfing evergreen forest man
Anyway, you and Midoriya had always known each other in middle school and now in UA
You both ended up in the hero course, but you transferred in after the first year because of some quirk development
Midoriya with his own developing quirk felt sympathy for you trying to keep control over something so new for you
He naturally gravitated toward you, kind of self-appointing himself as your mentor as you went through the different changes and trained with your new abilities
He grew to really like your humor and openness to the situation and how your spirit never died even when you were struggling
And you admired his willingness to help you! He was so kind and you'd never really had anyone be nice to you with no ulterior motives before
It wasn't long, or surprising, when you two started to develop feelings for each other
One day while you were training your quirk, Midoriya thought he'd stop by to spar and test your skills
One thing led to another and....well....
You dodged Midoriya's leg with expertise and landed squarely on the ground. Jetting off to the left, you aimed for a side sneak attack to catch him off-guard. You activated your quirk for a boost, one of the new developed abilities, and swept his legs from under him in a flash. Midorya was sent to the matted ground with an oof, landing on his back. You stood over him proudly, holding out a hand for him to take.
"That's a new one," Midoriya commented, hoisting himself up. "What do you call it?"
"I don't have a name for it yet," you rubbed the back of your neck as he walked to his bag on the bench. "Probably just...sneak attack kick? I dunno, it's not much of a sneak attack if you see it in broad daylight."
Midoriya laughed at that and lifted a notebook from his bag, clicking a pen and writing in it messily. You stretched your arm over your head and attempted to peek around his shoulder to see what he was writing.
"Whatcha doin'?" You asked curiously. Midoriya quickly closed the notebook and turned around, an embarrassed look on his face.
"N-nothing!" He said. You grinned evilly and put your hands on your hips. Midoriya gulped.
"You got a super secret notebook for super secret thoughts?" You joked, pointing a finger in his chest. He nervously shook his head quickly, tightening his hold on the notebook.
"No way! I was just- uh, just making a note, that's all!" He tried to cover up, but you could see through his facade. Shaking your head, you gave him a pitying look.
"After I just showed you how quick I can be, you really think you can keep your little notebook a secret?" You held the notebook up in your hand, causing Midoriya to do a double-take. He lifted his hands from behind his back to see that you put one of your own empty notebooks in his hands, fooling him into not noticing your switch. You wiggled the notebook cheekily.
"Give that back!" He squeaked out, reaching for the book. You held it up and away from his reach just barely, pushing him away with one of your hands.
"If you want the notebook, you're gonna have to catch me!" You laughed, sprinting off to the other side of the room. Midoriya chased you, using his quirk to make his reflexes faster. Fortunately for you, you knew his tricks. Anything he thought of to try to get the book back, you already figured he would do.
"[Y/N], don't make me ask again," Midoriya reasoned, holding up his hands. You shook your head again, grinning.
"I don't think you even asked a first time!"
"[Y/N], please."
"Why don't I just take a little look-see here..."
"No!"
Midoriya launched at you, but you twisted your body at the last moment to catch him with your legs. He fell to the ground with you pinning him and sitting on top, still holding the notebook. He was dazed from the landing as you began to flip through the pages tauntingly.
"Let's see..." You began, not noticing the terrified look on Midoriya's face. "Stat records, costume ideas...Ah! Hero notes!"
"[Y/N]-" Midoriya groaned but you hushed him.
"You've taken notes on almost all the heroes you've encountered. Impressive!" You nodded. Midoriya covered his reddening face with his hands, admitting defeat. You remained perched above him, straddling his torso.
"I'll pay you fifteen dollars to let this whole thing go," Midoriya reasoned. You just ignored him, scanning through the entries until you found one on yourself.
"Wow, my first fan!" You laughed, looking over the page. "Such detailed notes, too. You've got my special attacks, my defense moves, my favorite color-"
That made you stop. You instantly shut up, staring at the entries that Midoriya had made on you. Looking over the list, and it was long, you saw that his notes stretched far past just what made you a hero.
He had noted your favorite color, what you liked to eat, your favorite animal. He had your likes and dislikes neatly scrawled on the pages, front and back filled with different tidbits about yourself that he had picked up. You looked past the notebook and down at the embarrassed boy.
"I don't know if I find this flattering or creepy," you admitted. Midoriya quickly removed his hands from his face urgently.
"It-it's not like that, I swear!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "I'm not weird, I promise. I just...thought you were noteworthy, that's all."
You felt something blossom in your chest as your own cheeks went red. Clearing your throat, you glanced back at the notes he had taken on you, no doubt things you had told him or ranted about in the past. He really thought you were noteworthy?
Further down the list were things that were less surface-level and more of his own opinions: your personality, the sound of your laugh, how your eyes looked when you were excited. You couldn't help but smile at the effort.
"I'm sorry if it's weird, I just-"
"I think it's really sweet," you interrupted him, laying the notebook on the ground. His chest warmed at the sight of your sincere smile, you looking down at him like that.
"Y-You do?"
"Yeah! No one's ever really paid that much notice to me," you admitted sheepishly. Midoriya's eyes softened at your comment.
"I don't see why they wouldn't," he said impulsively. "You're amazing. I couldn't help but notice you."
You smiled stupidly down at the boy who had shown you so much kindness these past few months. He had shown that he cared about you in so many ways, all of them small and unique to who he was. You felt so incredibly lucky to have found someone like him.
"I know we just sparred," Midoriya blurted out, "and I know we're kinda sweaty, but you look really cute right now, and I don't really have much else to hide so I guess it couldn't hurt to maybe just-"
"Yes, you can kiss me," you finished for him. Midoriya sucked in a breath, smiling thankfully, before pulling you down to meet him halfway.
Your hands rested on the mat on either side of his head as he pulled you down by your shirt, gently moving his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and sweet, just like the way he treated you daily. You couldn't help but smile into it, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment that you'd dreamed of for weeks.
Breaking apart, neither of you had much to say as your faces were both incredibly red and Midoriya could barely process how his dreams had come true just like that. You leaned down to give him one last parting kiss before attempting to get up from the floor.
"I didn't say I was done," he muttered, pulling you down again and smiling before going in for another kiss.
~~~~~~
AHDKFISHWNEKDDJ these all ruined me completely goodbye i am deceased from the adorableness
requests are welcome! :)
277 notes · View notes
iridescentxstars · 3 years
Text
The Little Things
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➳ published: 29.08.21 ➳ ambiguous!au || genre: fluff || rated: t ➳ pairing: optional bias x reader ➳ summary: things have been rough lately and your boyfriend finds time out of his busy day to make sure you have a special night ➳ word count: <1k ➳ author's note: happy birthday to my beautiful sister @imnameimss, this is actually a request from someone special. We hope you like it. The playlist to go with it
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Everything is perfect, that’s something he couldn’t always say but right here, right now, everything is as perfect as life could ever get. The epitome of his life. This is one of those moments that he would repeat every time, every decision that he made to lead him to be right here, oh, he would do it all over again.
No matter what.
He looks at his watch, foot tapping on the ground nervously as he watches the second hand move but it feels like it’s mocking him, testing his impatience as he pulls his phone out to unlock, texting the group chat and trying to make sure that everything is in place. He needs this to be perfect, not that much could go wrong really but it doesn’t stop the way his heart is beating, racing, against his chest. It’s showtime. A message comes through and he jumps into action, turning on the fairy lights that he had set up around the blanket on the ground and lit a few candles before hearing the crunching of tyres on the gravel driveway.
As you exit the car, eyeing the driver suspiciously, you walk up the lit path. Little lamps light the way, directing you towards where you are meant to be heading. A song plays, soft, ambient, fitting for such a night; you recognise it as a song you listened to one too many times, sung in the shower for over a week and the sweetest smile spreads across your lips as you see him standing there in the dimly lit backyard.
“What is this?” You laugh softly as you walk towards him, taking all of him in while he looks at you with adoring eyes and the happiest smile adorning his features. His hair is styled in the way you love the most, bare-faced but he never looked more handsome, he always dressed fashionable but tonight you think he looks like he walked out of a k-drama, and here you were…
“You look beautiful.” He says, holding out his hand for you to take, leading you to the blanket on the ground. The night is warm, perfect, as the moon is shining and the stars dance above you. His heart somersaults in his chest when you smile at him, God, he loves you more than he could ever express.
He lays down, looking up at you while you turn your face to the sky, leaning back on your palms and just watches you. The way your smile is content, at ease, despite everything that has happened lately, your smile is still so full of life and such a purity that could never be replicated. No matter how many people tried, they could never be you.
His sunflower.
You feel his eyes on you and you chuckle softly, “you’re staring.”
“I’m admiring.”
You look down at him, playfully rolling your eyes. “Babe, you admire art, the colour that the sunrise paints the morning sky, the rain on the windowpane-”
“And the smile of the woman I love.” He simply says. “To me, you are more than any piece of art I could find in this world, not just in the way your smile makes your eyes sparkle or how your nose scrunches cutely when you sneeze but because you are strong, resilient, and the better half of me. You are my reason. Every day that I wake up, you are my reason for pushing through. My angel, my strength, my muse. Without you-”
You blush, playfully slapping him, breaking the moment and you both laugh. He infuriates you, makes you cry and there have been times you’ve thought about slamming the door in his face for sure; but in comparison to the times that he’s made you laugh, calmed you down after a rough day at work and made you feel more at home in his arms than the roof over you – it is always worth it in the end.
He’s worth it all. You are worth it.
Love is funny like that, isn’t it? The way that no matter what comes your way, no matter the obstacle, that one person can make it all worth fighting for.
“Are you proposing?” You laugh, the sound turning slightly nervous as he doesn’t join in, just smiling and watching you.
“No,” the corner of his lips lift as his gaze grows more intense, “but if I was, what would you say?”
You blush deeper and stutter a little, he loves those little reactions, the ones only he can pull from you. “I-It doesn’t matter.” You lay down next to him and he props himself up on an elbow, looking at you as you hide your face from him. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me flustered.”
He chuckles, “no, you don’t.” Pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, he lays back down beside you and looks up at you. You lay there together for a quiet moment, the only sound is the playlist that he’s playing as your fingers play with each other, slowly morphing into your hands finally meeting, palms pressed against each other with intertwined fingers. The beeping of his watch breaks the ambience and with that he turns to look at you, waiting for you to meet his gaze.
“Happy birthday, angel.”
68 notes · View notes
egg2k16 · 3 years
Note
“Please don’t make me say it again.” Geraskier? 🥺
From this prompt list! Anything for u, darling 💛
~°☆°~
They’re huddled under the wooden roof of a shack that a woman is selling hot bread under. The rain is pouring hard against it. They see how the rain turns the road into a muddy ruin. The water splashes around, plants bend at their weight.
Jaskier points to a squirrel that’s sitting underneath a particularly large leaf, protecting it from the rain, and in doing so, accidentally flings his bread out into the rain. The three of them watch it fall into a particularly muddy patch. The rain quickly makes it soggy, and it starts to disintegrate underneath its weight.
“Oh,” Jaskier says, “My bread.”
Geralt sees the woman sigh, and chuckles to himself. He taps Jaskier’s arm, and hands him his own bread. Jaskier lights up at that, and keeps smiling as he takes a bite, moaning happily at the warm taste.
I love you, Geralt thinks.
He pays for both of their breads when the rain finally stops.
They’re in a clearing in the woods. It’s late at night, and the fire has started to die down. It’s not the steady fire it had been, but still alive.
Geralt had planned on staying awake, keeping guard. But his eyelids are so heavy now, his head keeps listing and jolting him back into wakefulness. He looks over at Jaskier across the fire, and he doesn’t seem to be faring any better.
Their eyes meet, and the fire crackles on.
Jaskier gets up, blearily reaches for his bag, and pulls his blanket out.
“‘M getting to bed now, Ger,” he announces, voice thick with sleepiness. Geralt nods.
“I’ll keep watch,” he says, and sees Jaskier weakly smile. Jaskier grabs his bag, and walks over to Geralt’s side. He squats by Geralt’s bag, and pulls out his blanket, which he gently throws over to him.
“Roach can keep guard, that lady never sleeps,” Jaskier says. He sits down next to Geralt, and pulls his bag to use as a makeshift pillow. Geralt watches as he makes himself comfortable, pulling the blanket up under his chin. He cracks his eyes open to look up at him, and pats the patch of dirt next to him.
Geralt makes his own makeshift pillow and lies down. He only pulls his blanket up to his midchest, but he feels Jaskier reach over to pull it up so that it also reaches his chin. Jaskier props himself up a bit to properly tuck the blanket around Geralt, and smiles at him when he finishes before plopping back down on the ground.
I love you, Geralt thinks before swiftly drifting off to sleep.
They’re at a half-rate inn, eating half-rate food, with a half-rate band playing up at the front. Geralt’s barely picked at his beans, because these beans aren’t good. Their texture...he’s eaten this type of bean before, but today, his body isn’t having any of it. The rice is fine, but a bit too wet for his tastes, and the meat is much too chewy.
Jaskier comes back with their beers, and starts off with, “Can you believe the talent they have playing? Talent,” he scoffs, shaking his head. When he sits down, he finally notices how disgusted Geralt is, and furrows his brow.
“Everything alright?”
“No.”
“For?”
“The food. I don’t like it.”
“I’ve seen you eat raw carcasses before.”
Geralt’s frown deepens. “Well today isn’t a day for that, then.”
Jaskier hums, purses his lips. He looks around the room, taps his hands against the table. He seems to find whatever he was looking for, and gets up to get it. Geralt watches as he weaves his way between the tables to finally stop at one. Jaskier seems to be talking to the couple sitting there, and they exchange a few words before Jaskier seems to be thanking them. He walks back to Geralt, newly acquired things in tow.
When he comes back, he sets a torn loaf of bread, few apples, and jerky on the table before them, along with an assortment of nuts. He snags a glass of water off the tray of a passing waiter, and waves him off as he sets it down on the table.
Geralt stares at him, trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. Jaskier merely grins at him, and flourishes his hand over the foodstuffs.
“Eat!” he says.
Geralt blinks, and looks back down to the food. It’s all...neutral. It’s basic food. No odd textures or tastes or anything. This is the driest assortment that’s available in the inn.
He looks back up at Jaskier, who has taken the plate with Geralt’s previous food, and placed it on his side. He picks at it with his fork, bringing the mushy beans and rice to his mouth. He takes a bite, and squinches his face at the taste.
“This really is bad,” he announces. Geralt snaps out of his reverie, and takes a jerky, biting into it and relishing its saltiness.
“Why are you eating it, then?” Geralt asks.
Jaskier shrugs, then winks at him, a smile lighting up his face despite the clearly foul food still in his mouth.
I love you, Geralt thinks. He takes another bite, and knows that he’ll eventually share his small horde with Jaskier.
They’re in a swamp, with water up to their waists, and contending with an otyugh that has risen from its slumber. Geralt had warned Jaskier to not listen to the voice from deep in the woods, but that lovestruck fool had gone anyhow. Now they're in the territory of this creature, its two tentacles swiping through the air, sensory stalk quivering about, and Jaskier all but three feet away from it.
Jaskier looks like he’s struggling against its call, and when he opens his eyes to look at Geralt, he’s terrified. He’s clutching tightly to his lute, making a few of its strings twing. The otyugh stalks closer at its sound.
Geralt holds his sword steady before him, and quietly rounds the creature, doing his best not to disturb the water. He nods to Jaskier to get to the other side as he gets closer. Jaskier hurriedly nods, and wades away, but a high-rising mangrove root smacks against his lute. The strings sing loudly and markedly. The otyugh snarls, and starts to charge towards Jaskier. Jaskier yelps and tries to quiet his lute, but to no avail: he keeps making noise, and the otyugh gets closer and closer. Geralt groans, and tries to make noise on his side of the swamp to attract it, but Jaskier suddenly starts strumming his lute, and Geralt wants to kill him, how can he not understand–?
Jaskier changes the tune from a fast-paced one to a softer one, and the otyugh...stops in its tracks? When Geralt cranes his neck to see, Jaskier’s face is pale white, his grip on his lute strong. His strumming hand trembles, and he opens his mouth to sing. His voice cracks on the first syllable, which disturbs the creature, but he somehow gets his nerves under control and softens his voice. The otyugh seems entranced, its tentacles swaying gently above its head.
Geralt waves at Jaskier to start wading away, and he nods, carefully making his way back to the edge. Jaskier doesn’t stop performing, though, his music bouncing oddly off the branches and roots in the swamp. Geralt swims towards the otyugh, and plunges his sword right through its body just as Jaskier’s song ends. Its squeal fills the swamp now, a sharp noise against the low backdrop of the ambient noises.
Later that evening, Geralt hands Jaskier a hot cup of tea. He’s wrapped up in their blankets, and had wet clothes switched out for dry ones. It’s less flashy than his usual wardrobe, but Geralt doesn’t think he cares about that now.
As Geralt takes a seat next to him on the dry ground, Jaskier takes a hesitant sip of his tea. He weakly smiles, and looks at Geralt.
“I don’t think I’ll play again, for a little while,” he says.
Geralt nods, and places a hand on his shoulder, squeezes it. “That’s alright,” he promises.
Jaskier gives him another small smile before getting back to his tea.
I love you, Geralt thinks, and thinks about buying a new studded jacket for Jaskier in whatever new town they come across. That might cheer him up.
They accidentally stumbled upon a town’s festival, and Jaskier looked at Geralt with big wide eyes, holding onto his sleeve intently.
Geralt sighs. “Fine,” he grumbles, and Jaskier happily pulls him into the festivities. They stop at various shops, looking at the collections and sundries. Jaskier buys a few gemstone necklaces, bracelets, pamphlets, snacks. Geralt lets himself get hauled around, lets Jaskier put flower crowns on his head, eats anything that Jaskier shoves into his hands.
Towards the late noon, Geralt finds Jaskier leaning against a stand. Geralt comes to stand next to him, and follows his gaze. He grins to himself. Jaskier is looking longingly at a quartet that’s been playing music for the entirety of the festival. Geralt had noticed that they kept switching out players as the day went on, and thinks that Jaskier had been waiting for a turn.
“Why don’t you go over?” Geralt suggests. Jaskier looks up at him, and shakes his head.
“Oh, no, no, that’s not, I’m, I wasn’t thinking about the band, I was just,” Jaskier says, trailing off. He looks off to the people still milling about, sharing food, dancing in the square.
“What is it?”
“I’m...embarrassed to say!” Jaskier says, looking back at Geralt. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but he’s trying so hard to keep a nonchalant air.
Geralt furrows his brow. What the hell? “What?”
Jaskier’s cheeks turn pink, and Geralt’s heart beats quicker. What could possibly be eating him up inside?
“Would you mind...if we danced?” Jaskier asks.
Oh.
“Oh,” Geralt says.
“See, it’s dumb, don’t worry, you’ve put up with me and the festival all day, I don’t want to push you into anything that you don’t want to do–” Jaskier says, rambling on. Geralt watches him get more obfuscated, and then reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping his verbal volley. Jaskier looks from his hand to his face.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
Jaskier beams at that. He grabs the hand on his shoulder, and pulls them onto the courtyard, where they join the other dancers. Geralt isn’t used to this, but does his best to follow the others. Jaskier seems a natural, weaving between the other dancers as they move to the beat of the music.
The dance makes them switch partners every eight bars, and it takes a good while until Geralt and Jaskier face each other again. Geralt takes Jaskier’s hands in his, and interlaces their fingers as they move up, an arm over the head, their hands sliding down to their shoulders, whence they twirl in place.
Jaskier laughs, giddy with happiness, and Geralt’s entire body feels aglow.
I love you, he thinks, as he crosses arms with Jaskier again, spinning them around their own center point.
They’re next to a lake, sun high in the sky. Geralt is fishing, while Jaskier has decided to attend to Roach. Geralt smiles to himself as he hears Jaskier coo at her, and chuckles at his babytalk. He swings his line out again.
“We’re gonna get your coat nice and shiny again,” Jaskier promises. Geralt can hear the slosh of the soapy water as Jaskier wets his rag again. Geralt’s line moves in the water.
Roach whinnies. Geralt turns his head to see Jaskier brushing the excess water out of her coat with a thickly bristled brush. He then bends to the bucket to wet it, and grabs some of her mane, presses it against his hand as he brushes her hair with it.
“You’re so pretty,” Jaskier tells her, with a wide smile on his face. “I bet all the other horses think you are, too. You must be the envy of every town we visit, seeing as how you’re such a rugged warrior.”
Roach’s tail flicks out happily, and she snorts, dipping her head as if in affirmative. Jaskier chuckles at her, and presses a kiss to her neck.
“Do the other mares get jealous when they see you? Or what about stallions, is that attractive, for them?” Jaskier wonders, twirling the brush in his hand. “Oh! What if it’s the mares that find it attractive? Do you have a lot of girlfriends, Roachy lady?”
Roach walks away a bit, flicking Jaskier with her tail as she does a slow spin. Jaskier just laughs at her, swatting her hind with the brush.
Geralt shakes his head, and gets back to fishing.
A few hours later, Geralt finally comes back to camp with a few fish on his hooks. He skins them, cooks them well, and serves them each a plate. Jaskier eats his filet with much relish, and when he finishes, he gets up to feed Roach. He pulls out a few apples from his bag, and smiles as Roach bites them out of his hand. He nuzzles her muzzle as she chews.
Geralt watches them a bit as he cleans their plates, dumping any leftover into the fire. He feels so content and satisfied in this moment.
“I love you,” he says, getting up from the fire to put away the plates and forks. He looks up at Jaskier when he feels his gaze on his back. “What?”
“What did you say?” Jaskier asks, hand still on Roach’s snout.
Geralt furrows his brow. He didn’t say anything, did he?
Roach flicks her gaze to him and snorts. He. No. Did?
Oh.
Oh no.
He did.
Geralt gets up quickly from where he was squatting. “Uh,” he says eloquently.
Jaskier’s eyes are wide, and he takes a tentative step to Geralt. Geralt’s surprised he didn’t take a step back himself.
“Geralt,” Jaskier begins, “Did you just say that you love me?”
“No,” Geralt says. “Yes,” he amends. He feels his face on fire, and fuck, what’s he supposed to do with his hands now?
“Really?” Jaskier asks, and hell, when did he get so close? Geralt looks into his bright blue eyes, full of happiness, and feels his heart tighten at the sight.
“Please don’t make me say it again,” Geralt asks. His heart’s beating much too fast right now, and he’s nearly feeling faint.
“Aww,” Jaskier coos, and shyly reaches for him. Seeing that Geralt hasn’t reacted in either way, he slowly wraps his arms around his torso, carefully laying his head against Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt’s hands jump up to wrap around him as well, holding him tightly. He can feel Jaskier’s smile against his shirt.
“I love you too,” he says, and Geralt melts.
“I love you,” Geralt says.
Roach whinnies as if in chime, and they both chuckle into their embrace.
364 notes · View notes
kuroopaisen · 3 years
Text
10:31 pm || miya osamu
➵ osamu won’t stop making his damn onigiri. 
wc: 1400
warnings: gn!reader, the slightest bit suggestive  
a/n: @starrysamu i’ll be honest, it’s a while since i’ve written something and been happy with it. but i wanted to give you something on your birthday to say thank you for being so lovely to me :( (i know i’m technically late but shhh...) you’ve been so kind to me, and i can’t thank you enough for all the light you’ve brought into my life (both intentionally and inadvertently). and i know i’m not the only one -- you’ve brought life and laughter to so many people’s lives, and i just want you to know how loved and appreciated you are. this was originally planned as a fluffvember piece dedicated to you but Stuff Happened and it never got written and try as i might, this was the most i could drag together in celebration for remy day. i’m so sorry i couldn’t do more, but regardless i hope you had the best day possible :( i adore you
“Osamu,” you huff, butting his arm with your head.
He ignores you.
“Osamu,” you whine, a little louder this time.
He continues to ignore you, moulding a rice ball with both hands.
You duck down and pop back up between his arms.
Osamu bites back a smile this time, but once again – he ignores you.
You know he’s doing it on purpose. He’s not like his brother; he doesn’t get so lost in what he’s doing that he completely loses track of his surroundings. No, he’s doing this to wind you up. Because you’ve made it too obvious that you want his attention.
Although, you don’t usually have to fight for it.
He’s not the kind of guy to spend a lot of his free time ‘doing’ things. Time at home is time to relax. If he wants to play around with recipes, then he’ll just stay an extra hour at work. If he needs to work off some steam, he’ll go to the gym. Time at home is time to relax – or, more aptly put, time to annoy you.
But sometimes, Osamu’ll be consumed by a relentless urge to create. All he wants to do is make new combinations of ingredients, stuffing his onigiri full of stuff that you wouldn’t possibly think would go together. But Osamu seems to have a sixth sense for this sort of thing; even the strangest sounding combinations end up being surprisingly satisfying.
You’re not about to complain about this quirk of his. You’re his trusty taste-tester, the lab rat for all his new creations. That’s quite the honour – one of the benefits of being part of Osamu’s life. The whole ‘having a professional chef prepare you dinner every night’ is also pretty good.
(You joked, once, that the only reason you kept him around was because he was just so damn good at cooking.
He’d been so genuinely pouty about it that for a moment it felt like you were talking to his brother).
But tonight, that stroke of creativity had hit at nine in the evening. And honestly, you can only eat so much rice.
He’s been at it for the past hour or so, throwing together this and that while a gentle Spotify playlist provides ambient noise. It’s the sort of music you’d listen to in an attempt to wind down – something that’s certainly not doing much for your fatigue.
“I’m tired,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. He’s warm, like he always is. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to sleep as soundly as you do with him next to you. He’s too much of a fixture in your life now. Too much of a comfort.
Osamu chuckles, his thumbs smoothing languid circles over your waist. “It’s only ten at night.”
“I know,” you whine, lifting your head up to look at him.
Frankly, he should be glad you’re tired this early. Kita’s always chided you for your erratic sleep schedule, and Osamu’s been given a talk or two about how he should be looking after you better.
“Osamu,” you huff, pouring all your menace into that one word.
It’s not very effective.
“Hm?” He sounds amused more than anything.
“Please come to bed.”
A familiar grin crosses his face. “Want me that bad, huh?”
You butt his chest with enough force to knock him backwards. “Shut up.”
He’s not wrong, but it’s certainly not what’s on your mind right now. And he knows that.
“Ah, so you’re not denying it,” he grins. Stupid relentless Osamu.
You punch him in the stomach with what might just be the world’s weakest fist.
“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Osamu chuckles, shaking his head.
You pout up at him, doing your best to look as pitiful as possible.
“You can’t fool me,” he grins.
It’s true. Osamu knows you well; some would say too well. But that’s what you get, being romantically involved for so long. And while he may know you well enough to save himself the burden of feeling guilty in the face of your faux misery, you also have a carefully catalogued library of every lame and embarrassing thing he’s ever said.
It’s a fair enough trade.
One song ends and another begins.
It’s similar in style to the one before – a soft tune, an indistinct voice crooning over the music, a soothing yet bittersweet tone underlying the tune.
Osamu stills, a strange tenderness melting over his face. He slips one arm around your waist, making sure that his hand stays away from your shirt. It’s still covered in the gelatinous residue of the rice.
“Didn’t this play at your sister’s wedding?” He asks softly.
You nod. He remembers that? Hell, it’d taken you a moment to rifle through your (admittedly hazy) memories of that event to try and recall if this song had even been on the playlist.
Osamu reaches for one of your hands, lacing his sticky fingers with yours. You open your mouth to protest, but before you can his other hand slips round to hold your waist.
“But my shirt,” you whine, well-aware that you’re going to have to change it before going to bed. Unless you wanted gritty bits of dried rice to work its way onto your sheets, of course.
“Just borrow one of mine,” Osamu mumbles, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.
Your lips are free, but it feels like he’s sealed them shut.
Osamu isn’t a man of many words. But he is a man of gentle touches, quiet moments, little affections you might miss if you’re not watching closely enough.
He pulls you towards him, taking a step away from the kitchen countertop. You almost stumble as you let him lead you in the sway of the music. He’s a bit off beat, but he’s never been very good at keeping to one. You remember having to learn ballroom dancing in P.E.; for all his innate talent at volleyball, Osamu has none for dancing.
If he cares about that, he makes no indication. He just holds you close to him, fingers digging into your waist gently as he moves. You lean into him, resting your cheek against his chest.
The song ambles on, an offbeat soundtrack to this tiny tenderness.
You pull your head back and look up to him.
He’s smiling.
It’s not his usual smile, that lazy, sardonic half-smirk. It’s gentle, fond, loving. It’s a smile you don’t get to see often – and one you certainly don’t get to see in public. But it’s another tiny sign that he loves you; a sign that he trusts you with all his vulnerability, even if he can’t put it into words.
He leans in and you wonder if he’s going to kiss you.
“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear.
“What about the mess?” You ask, turning to look at the kitchen as if he hadn’t just made your heart race.
There’s rice everywhere, wrapped in seaweed and in bowls and in flecks all over the counter. You’re sure you’ve never seen this much rice before in your whole entire life – and you’ve cooked for Osamu’s high school volleyball team before.
“I’ll deal with it in the morning,” Osamu says, totally unbothered.
“But ants,” you pout, eyes anxiously scanning the wide variety of perishables strewn over the kitchen. Something’s going to go off by the morning. And that isn’t even accounting for the hoard of uneaten onigiri stacked up in a Tupperware container.
“It’ll be fine,” Osamu shrugs, tugging you out of the kitchen.
“No, it won’t!”
“We haven’t had ants yet.”
“You still shouldn’t leave food out overnight—”
Osamu chuckles, sealing your lips with a kiss. It’s not just any kiss, either; he kisses you exactly how you like to be kissed, in the way that always makes you tick. Unfortunately, it’s an effective way of shutting you up.
Stupid Osamu and his underhanded tricks. He knows just what makes you tick, just how to get under your skin.
But being known is a part of being loved. It means having every little thing about you tucked neatly in someone else’s memory, regardless of if you want it to be or not. Words barely matter. In most cases, they don’t.
It’s a fact you just have to come to terms with.
Osamu already has.
304 notes · View notes
sehoenghwa · 3 years
Text
cake [c.s] [final part]
concept: Choi San x gender neutral reader (ft. Park Seonghwa) warnings ⚠: smut, angst, choking, shitty behaviour
[Part 1]
A/N: aaaa it’s finally done!! I really like the endinggg I hope you enjoy part 2!! I’m sorry if I ever mention a gender on the reader, sometimes I get distracted but please let me know!! All criticism is appreciated :D
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 You thanked all of the gods in existance for the fact that the academic year would be over in a couple of days. You decided that missing them wouldn't be of much importance, since you couldn't bear the embsfassment. You didn't want to face San, and you weren't sure you could face anyone at all. You felt like everyone knew about what had happened, and like everyone was silently judging you for falling right onto his trap. You needed time away from everyone in that place, as everyone reminded you of him.
  You spent days crying onto your pillow, because the unbearable heartbreak and weird sense of betrayal you couldn't help but to feel.
   It had been about two weeks into summer vacation when you decided to pick yourself up from bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror: bloated face, massive eye bags, hair severely overgrown and your body looked unhealthy. Your heart broke at the sight, and you cursed yourself for getting to this point because of a man.
   You decided that, from that point on, you'd get better. You'd treat yourself, and become someone new. But it's easier said than done of course... You sort of did that. At least you were happier...
    When you finally emerged from the comfort of your bed you fixed yourself the best you could and made way towards the nearest non-suspicious looking bar. It was a nice medium-sized bar, that looked like it was straight from a gossip girl set. It was only 5pm, but as soon as you closed the door behind you, it felt like it was 1am. The music wasn't loud nor quiet, the decoration wasn't exaggerated, and the purple and pink neon lights lit up the bar nicely.
  Despite not having any windows, the smell of smoke wasn't unbearable like most bars, it was almost as if it was just setting the ambient.
   You sat at the bar and order a 'whatever you recommend here'. You actually had about 4 of those. You felt surprisingly well, that is, until you stood up to go to the bathroom. Your legs were wobbly and suddenly the room was spinning. Somehow you made it to the bathroom and came back, to find that your seat was taken. Yes, there were about 5 other seats, but slightly drunk you had decided that that was your seat. How dare guy-who-looked-handsome-from-the-back tke it from you?
   You tapped his shoulder, a little too harshly but you couldn't control it really. The male turned around and you gasped loudly. He raised an eyebrow at your extreme reaction, but again, your emotions, actions and reactions were highly enhanced with the help of alcohol.
   You recognized those deep dark eyes and eye-catching lips anywhere.
    Seonghwa. He was one of San's 'og' friends. You saw him in San's ig pictures from years ago, and you'd never seen one without the other walking around the halls.
    'Y/N?'
    You could feel your face get hotter, out of anger. You turned around and wobbled towards the door, but Seonghwa was faster. He grabbed your wrist.
    'Y/N, are you drunk? It's 7pm what are you doing here?'
    You turned to face him and placed your index finger on his chest, pushing him back.
    'None of your business. Don't talk to me.'
   Seonghwa was smart, it didn't take him long to understand your behaviour. His grip on your wrist was steady and he didn't let you go.
    'You know I'm not him, right? I didn't do it, and I would never do something like that.' He told you.
   Tears immediately brimmed in your eyes and your furrowed your eyebrows angrily.
    'So you know about it.'
    Seonghwa sighed and nodded.
    'He tells me about every single one...'
    You fought his grip and ran outside, the best you could. Seonghwa followed you, not wanting to leave you alone, drunk and wobbling in the streets that had already gotten dark.
     'Y/N please, I'm sorry he did that to you. I had no idea.' He tried to excuse himself.
     'But you're still friends with him!' You yelled, earning a couple of looks from people passing by.
     'I can't just drop him Y/N! I've been his friend since we were kids. I hate that he does this, and I hate that I'm associated with it even more. You don't see it, but I see the dirty looks I get from every girl he fucked and trashed away because they think I'm just like him.'
   'Oh boo hoo poor you!' You mocked.
   He placed his hands on his hips and sighed.
   'Do you live nearby?' He asked.
   'Why? So you can fuck me and dump me too?' You mocked.
   'Because I'm driving you home before some idiot on the street picks you up and convinces you to fuck him.'
   You felt a little shy for assuming anything about him when he meant to do something good. You just nodded and told him your address as you walked to his car. The drive was silent, the only sound being his finger tapping on the wheel.
   Once he pulled up in your driveway, he turned off the engine and sighed.
    'Y/N I'm genuinely worried for you. I'm not San, okay? He texted me after you left his house, and told me what happened. The days after he does that we usually get some nasty comments from whoever he fucks. I looked for you, I expected to see you breaking a couple pencils imagining it was his dick or shooting him death glares, but you didn't come to class. Neither did you the next day. And it's two weeks into summer vacation and I find you, completely different, getting drunk in a bar at 5pm. I don't want you to waste one of the best years in your life because of my friend. I don't know how he gets away with that façade, I guess no one believes that he's actually kind of an ass...'
   You listened to him carefully. He sounded genuinely concerned, and you were touched by his words for a second.
   'The deed is done.' You told him, coldly.
   He sighed, a little sad at your disbelief in him.
   'Let me give you my number. Text me if it gets to your head again, please.'
   The next day, when you woke up, you felt a little embarrassed at the way you spoke to him. A couple days went by but you never texted him, your pride wouldn't let you. But you couldn't stop thinking about him. How sweet he had been to you even though he didn't know you at all. How genuine he seemed...
    Still, you didn't text him. You got in some nice clothes, fixed the hair you still hadn't bother to get an appointment for, and went to the same bar you had seen him the other day. Except at a decent hour this time.
   As soon as you walked in you spotted him. He was very hard to miss, as he always seemed to be the best mannered and best composed person in the room.
  'Drink alone often?'   He turned around, a little surprised to hear your voice again. Seonghwa smirked.
  'Didn't think I'd see you again so soon.' He told you, setting down his drink.
  You said nothing. Your ego stopped you from doing so, you'd never admit you felt bad for being so cold to him.
  There wasn't much of a conversation between the two of you, only some small talk accompanied by one too many drinks.
   You only realized how late it was when the music became louder and the dance floor started becoming full of drunk men and women. The bar around you was spinning a little, but not enough that you couldn’t grab Seonghwa’s hand and pull him to dance with you.
   ‘Who knew you could act normal for once instead of stone cold?’ 
   You slapped his chest as you drunk-danced to a random trap song. 
   ‘I’m not stone cold, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t like your dear friend.’ You explained, looking at him as if you meant an offense.
    Seonghwa rolled his eyes and pulled close so you could see well his eyes under the flashing lights. He was dead serious. 
    ‘Y/N, please stop. I’m not like him. I told this over and over, I hate what he does, so please stop comparing me to San.’ 
    You looked at him for a second, not knowing what to do, or say. Up until this point you were the harsh one, but now his calm, soft side had turned into a serious person that you had never seen before.
    As you thought about what he said, you gulped, rummaging through your brain, trying to find an adequate response. 
    ‘Then help me take him down.’
    Seonghwa tilted his head and frowned, not quite understanding what you meant.
    ‘If you hate it so much, help me do something about it. No one deserves to be treated that way and I want to make sure no other girl gets fooled by him.’ 
    The male was a little mervous about it. A frienship with San was something he had known his whole life. Hell, he had a key to San’s house, he was on a first name basis with San’s parents... The male gulped and sighed.
    He grabbed your wrist and took you outside, so you could speak properly without the banging sound of the music interrupting you.
   ‘Y/N you know I can’t do that, he’s my-’
    ‘Your friend? Is he though? Is he the person you became friends with? If a narcissistic asshole who lures in girls with a fake persona just to fuck them and trash them the second after came up to you and asked you to be ‘best friends’ would you happily take it?’ You interrupted him. 
    Seonghwa’s head was confused. It was torn between the comfort of a life-long friendship and what was morally correct. His head was trying to separate all the events, all the good memories and fun times, from the things that he didn’t like. And after a short minute, he came to a conclusion: you were right. All of the rainbows and flowers were buried in the past, all of the laughs and giggles he could remember was from little San, that went to church every Sunday and refused to kill any backyard bug because ‘bugs are friends’. Not new San. Not bubblegum-haired San that got Seonghwa in trouble over and over, not San that had Seonghwa pick him up from random girls’ houses at 2am because ‘he didn’t want to be in the same room as them after he fucked them’. Current San wasn’t Seonghwa’s friend.
   ‘Fine, I’ll help you. But how?’ He finally replied, earning a wide grin from you.
   You didn’t exactly know how tho... You only knew that you wanted- no, you needed revenge. You thought for a while, before something came to mind. 
   ‘Like this!’ 
   You grabbed Seonghwa’s face and kissed his lips, for a brief second. When you pulled away his face was red and his eyeballs looked like they were going to pop out of the socket at any second.
   ‘By kissing me!? I’m not complaining Y/N but, what?’
   ‘No dumb dumb, pretend we’re dating. It’ll make him uncomfortable. At least enough until he throws a fit and I get a confession out of him. Plus, if I’m close to his best friend it adds credibility when I say that he’s an ass, and people won’t just take me for ‘another crazy bitch who was rejected by San’.’
   Seonghwa just shrugged.
   ‘Fine by me, I don’t care.’
   After saying that, Seonghwa grabbed your waist and pulled you close, close enough so he could close the gap between your lips, just for a second longer than you had before. 
   ‘What was that for?’ You asked, a little shocked, once you two pulled away.
   ‘Would you believe my excuse if I told you it’s to make it seem more realistic and not because you look very fuckable right now?’ Whether it was the alcohol or a hidden desire speaking, he meant it.
   You just laughed him off, thinking it was a joke. Quickly you understood it wasn’t, by taking a look at the way his eyes became even darker and the way he bit his lower lip.
  You didn’t hesitate when Seonghwa gently grabbed your hair and intertwined your fingers with his, as he dragged you along to his flat.
 As soon as you stepped inside, the male shut the door and pressed you against it, taking a second to appreciate the way you looked under the dim lights. Seonghwa crashed his lips against yours and began undressing you in his living room, too needy to even let you get to his bedroom. 
   Unlike San, Seonghwa was gentle with his touch. It was a nice mix of romantic and passionate. He removed your clothes as his lips moved down your neck, leving very light bites so it wouldn’t be shamelessly marked on your neck. As soon as he got to your chest, however, you could tell the purple spots would be lasting for weeks. 
   You undressed him just as quickly as he undressed you, and it was truly mesmerizing what clothes could hide. Seonghwa’s body was just perfectly: fit, but not in excess. Broad shoulders, thick thighs and toned torso, that you kept on admiring as he picked you up and laid you on the couch slowly. 
   Seonghwa’s tip grazed over your entrance and you moaned into the kiss.
   ‘O-oh wait!’ He said, and stood up, leaving you confused as he stepped away.
   He soon came back with a little bottle of lube, causing you both to flush.
   ‘I didn’t... want it to hurt?’
   You smiled a little, and watched as the light from the moon shined and reflected on his slightly sweaty body.
    Seonghwa aligned his tip by your entrance once more, and hovered over you, allowing you to encircle his neck with your arms.
   He filled you up, slowly. You bit down on his shoulder causing him to groan. He started slow, but you could see he wanted to do more.
   ‘D-do it.’
   ‘What?’ He asked.
   ‘Don’t hold back, please.’
   Seonghwa stopped for a second and looked at you.
   ‘I don’t want to hurt you...’
   ‘You won’t.’
   The male licked his lips and kissed your temple.
   ‘Fine by me.’
   Seonghwa grabbed waist, snapping his hips rapidly against yours, causing you to grip onto the couch for dear life. He reached for your neck, encircling it with his hand in a way that you didn’t even know you liked.
   There were so many groans and moans and noises echoing around the room, and you couldn’t even hear them. You were too focused on the way he fucked you.
   ‘You like that? Like when I fuck your pretty little head dumb?’
   ‘S-shit! Yes!’
   Soon enough you came, but he kept thrusting into you. The overstimulation was painful, yet pleasurable. 
   ‘Can y-you take it babydoll?’ 
   ‘Fuck- yes! Seonghwa!’ 
   You came once more, with a yell for his name, and almost immediately he pulled out and came all over your torso. 
    He looked down at the mess he made. 
   ‘Oh... Sorry about that. You look good though.’
   You collected some of the cum on your finger, put it in your mouth, and winked at him.
   ‘Fuck... You’re golden.’
  Weeks went by and the changes were slow. You wanted it to look natural. It started with a couple of selfies the two of you posted when you met from time to time, then the dates became more frequent, and more public, and then you became his lockscreen photo. Soon enough, academic year began once more, and you agreed to walk into the building holding hands, as if you truly were in love. It shocked everybody, even San. They all had seen you two, but people just assumed that it was a summer fling, not a serious thing.
   San wouldn’t deny that it bothered him, because it did. Very much actually. It made him uncomfortable that he treated you like that, because to him you were nothing, and now you were hanging out with his best friend all the time, which meant you were hanging out with him. And you didn’t even look bothered, at all.
   The day came when you and Seonghwa first kissed in front of everybody, it was about a week into it, and that’s when San lost it. You were sitting with Seonghwa, San and a couple other guys that often hung out with them in the cafeteria. San was desperately trying not to look at the two of you. How did this even happen? Seonghwa did tell him he was seeing somebody but... You? He usually never looked at any other person he fucked again and now not only did he have to look at you, but he also had to hang out with you. 
   You were sitting so close to your ‘boyfriend’ that you were nearly on his lap. Your head was resting on his shoulder as he caressed your thigh. Seonghwa said something funny, and as both of you laughed you looked at each other. Your lips were awfully close, and as you stared into each other’s eyes you couldn’t help but share a brief, innocent kiss. A kiss that triggered San.
   ‘Okay what the fuck is going on!?’ The irritated male finally asked, through gritted teeth, while looking at the two of you. 
   ‘What do you mean?’ You asked, feigning ignorance. 
   Seonghwa squeezed your thigh, as a warning to take it easy.
   ‘You know exactly what I mean.’
   ‘No, I don’t. I met Seonghwa, we started talking, enjoying our time together and eventually... we fell for each other.’ You told him, looking at Seonghwa lovingly to sell the lie. 
   ‘Is this a part of some fucking plan to make me jealous?’
   ‘You? Why would this be about you?’ 
   ‘You know why.’ 
   ‘I really don’t.’ 
   San gripped his cutlery hard. The way you were pretending nothing had happened was pissing him off beyond belief. 
   ‘Stop pretending you don’t remember.’
   ‘Did... Something happen between the two of you? Did you date or something?’ Yeosang, who had become a little awkward by the conversation asked.
   A couple curious students that were eating in tables nearby were overeharing the conversation, and quickly stopped what they were doing to focus on the gossip.
   ‘No, we didn’t date.’ San told Yeosang. 
   ‘We didn’t, but I think I seem to remember something... Oh! Right! It was the way you pretended to be interested in me, then fucked me, and kicked me out of your house to never speak to me again.’
   Yeosang and Yunho looked at San, with disgust painted all over their faces.
   ‘Dude, you still do that!?’ Yunho asked.
   ‘He never stopped.’ 
    Everyone was shocked, as Seonghwa said that. He didn’t look up from his sad chocolate pudding. 
    ‘What the fuck Seonghwa!? Is that what you do now!? Screw my leftovers and then stab me in the back!?’ San exclaimed.
   Seonghwa slammed his fist on the table and looked up at San to meet his eyes. It was an expression that the latter had never seen on his cute, kind, puppy-like best-friend, and he wasn’t so sure he ever wanted to see it.
   ‘I’ve had enough! I’ve had fucking enough of you and your shitty behaviour, I’ve had enough of you using our friendship as an excuse to make me run around like a dog doing whatever you need, and I’m tired of getting angry looks from all the girls you fucked and then trashed away in this school. All while putting up this angel boy façade! You wanna fuck random girls and leave them on the side of the road the next day!? Get a hooker. You’re disgusting for toying with people like that. I’ve had it!’
   Murmurs and whispers could be heard in the cafeteria, after Seonghwa’s explosion. There was silence in the table, however.
   Suddenly, San’s famously adored pink hair was stained by brown goo. 
   ‘This is for screwing me and telling me to ‘skidaddle’ right after you came.’ A sobbing girl said, as she dumped another pudding on his head. ‘And this one is for running off and fucking my sister the next day.’ 
   San looked around. There was an occasional ‘you go king’ face from some pathetic little man who seemed to love his behaviour, but those ones were hidden behind the dozens angry and disgusted faces of every single peer of his.
   He panicked. A guy stood up and as he started to step towards San, the latter just ran away. He dashed out of the cafeteria to never be seen again, at least in that building.
   You turned to Seonghwa and hugged him. 
   ‘Thank you.’
   He smiled at you, as he pet your head. 
   ‘It’s alright honey, it needed to be done.’ 
   Seonghwa leaned in to kiss you, a sweet victory kiss, but you backed away.
   ‘Woah, we did it, we don’t need to fake it anymore!’ You told him with a smile. Silly him, he had forgotten!
   ‘Oh... Yes sorry, it’s the habit. Excuse me I... I need to go to the bathroom.’ 
   He stood up and walked away, and you were left to talk to his friends. But you missed the way tears pooled in his eyes. You missed the way his face grew red and the unstability in his voice. You missed the red, puffy eyes and the bruised knuckles he tried to hide once he came back from the bathroom. 
   Seonghwa cursed himself for forgetting that it was all fake.
----
   taglist: @sansbun​ @haram-monbebe​ @beefpork​ @softvelvetkisses​ @palegardenrebel​ @swimmingkpopblog​ @mirror-juliet​ @mingismoon​ @raysanshine​ @staytinyy​ 
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nose-bandaid · 3 years
Text
the moon told me so ☾~
Wonwoo x (gender neutral) Reader | soulmate AU angst | 4.5k words
synopsis: in a world where you and your soulmate share a special marking that appears on one’s body at the age of 18 or later. you were wonwoo’s, but wonwoo was no one’s, and you were the fool who didn’t say a word about it. alternatively:
you are in love with jeon wonwoo, but jeon wonwoo isn’t ready to love yet.
a/n: i uh, feel kinda shy posting this lmao but i hope you enjoy:))
sequel: the little flower on your wrist and the epilogue: kairosclerosis
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“When are you going to tell him?”
“Tell who?”
Seungkwan sighed and gave you a knowing look. “Wonwoo, who else would I be talking about?”
“I don’t have anything I need to say to him.” You muttered into the warm knitted scarf wrapped around your neck. The snow fell gently around you in large clumps — the kids on your street were sure to be delighted when they wake up to that. It wouldn’t be long before you started seeing snowmen pop up one by one, all with little carrots and hats decorating them, giving them life. However, to you, the snow only added to the weight in your heart. The peaceful, yet lonely atmosphere made you want to curl back into your bed and sleep your sadness away. And then you could hope that maybe when you woke up, all of your problems would be solved.
Yes, that sounded like a much better option, compared to standing around in the cold weather, waiting for a late taxi. But you promised him that you would show up today. As much as you didn’t want to, you weren’t one to break the promises you made. Promises were meant to be kept.
And so, you woke up at a horrid 4 am today and dressed yourself with the best outfit your sluggish mind could think of. All to make sure that you were at the airport on time, just for him.
“Y/n... this might be your last chance. I mean, this is already terribly last minute for you to do so, but we also have no idea when he’ll come back.” Seungkwan’s voice softened when he noticed your stressed demeanour.
“Listen, I know, okay? I’ll tell him today, I’ve been preparing what to say for the past week. I just... I just need to get myself together, that’s all.” The words spilled out of your mouth as you tried to get him to stop nagging.
Before you could get a response, the taxi pulled up in front of you, and you busied yourself with getting a seat in the back while Seungkwan relayed the destination to the driver. He then took a seat in the passenger’s side, leaving you alone in the back with the little present you brought with you by your side.
The whole car ride was silent, minus the soft music that played from the radio — some kind of ambient jazz that only made the atmosphere even more awkward. You fidgeted with the bracelet dangling on your wrist and looked out the window, the yellow beads clinking against each other to add some noise to the silence. The buildings passed by with a blur, and every so often you would come across a location that prompted a treasured memory in you.
The mall that you and Wonwoo would visit almost everyday during middle school. Your parents weren’t the fondest of the idea that you guys were going there so often, but you went either way. There was ice cream to be eaten, game demos to be played, outfits (that you could definitely not afford) to try on, and snacks to be bought.
The arcade that you so daringly visited when you were supposed to be in class. It was Mingyu who had suggested the idea, as a joke, but everyone started getting on board with it and soon you were roped into the adventure too. None of you guys were really the type to skip school, the thought just never visited your mind, and you had other things to worry about. On that day though, you decided to let yourself be just the slightest bit free, and with a little convincing, you got Wonwoo of all people, to come along too.
That day was a blast, the thrill of rebellion, the refreshing taste of freedom, even the stuffiness of the arcade was bearable — your uniform was far too warm for the environment. Miraculously, there was no big punishment for your absence when you returned, just a light scolding, and that simply heightened the excitement of the day. You never pulled such an act ever again, but you most definitely held that memory dear to your heart. Because on that day, Wonwoo’s smiles were almost a thousand times brighter than usual.
Your eyes flickered between the trees that trickled their way into your view, and they steadily grew in numbers to paint a forest in front of you. Though their leaves were barren and their branches were heavy with snow, all you could think of were the lush green forests that surrounded the cottage you visited almost a year ago. The one that you and your friends rented out, the one that housed some of the happiest moments in your life, the one that echoed some of the loudest laughs ever, the one that kept you warm under the cool night, as you snuggled into each other’s arms.
The one that witnessed your life fall apart.
-----
You remembered that dreary day, when Wonwoo pulled you aside from the others and into a little alcove in the forest nearby, a nervous look painted on his face. Your friend group had decided to spend the warm weekend at the cottage to celebrate Wonwoo’s birthday and new soulmate mark. They all insisted that it was tradition to host an all-out celebration for the occasion, despite the boy’s refusals. If they celebrated for the others, they had to celebrate for him as well. 
You were all about to head to the beach for a swim before barbecuing some dinner, the weather was a comfortable mix of the warm sun and the cool breeze. It should’ve been perfect.
Let’s put an emphasis on should’ve.
When you finished changing, before you could catch up to the others who were already dunking themselves into the frigid water, laughter getting lost in the vast forest, Wonwoo stopped you at the front door with a gentle grip on your arm. From the looks of it, he’d been waiting for you for a while.
“Hey y/n... could we talk for a minute?”
And that question brought you to a wooden bench in a small clearing, hidden away from the others’ sight. The sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting a delicate pattern around you. The air of uneasiness between you two was so contrasting to the mood a few moments ago, that you were immediately filled with worry. The last time you saw Wonwoo, he was laughing his head off with Mingyu and Seokmin over a stupid dad joke that someone made. Now, there was no trace of that former carefree personality.
“Wonwoo what’s up? Is something wrong?”
He bit his lip, clearly deep in thought. “You know how I’m supposed to be getting my mark tomorrow?”
You nodded. “Yeah, that’s why we all came here to celebrate right? Is it too much for you? I can tell the others to cool off on the partying, I know they can be overwhelming.”
“No it’s not that, I don’t mind it. It’s just... I’m honestly not so sure about this whole soulmate thing.” His voice was small and his shoulder tensed as he awaited your response.
“Like, you’re worried about the mark not showing up tomorrow?”
“No, I’m worried that I won’t be able to love my soulmate the way I’m supposed to.” He clarified, a bit firmer now.
Your heart stopped.
“Well,” You you pursed your lips as your mind raced to gather the best way to respond. “You could always just tell them right? That you’re not ready for a relationship, I’m sure they would understand.”
“But what if I’m never ready?” His confidence had suddenly disappeared, and you could feel that he was getting panicky, so you rested a gentle hand on his thigh to calm him down. “That feels so unfair to them. Like I’m going against fate.”
You swallowed back the emotions building up in your throat. You were hoping for the already low chance that he would be your soulmate, that maybe the stars would be in your favour and offer you an easy happy ending of some sort. After all these years together, you felt that there was almost no way that you couldn’t be paired together in some way. But now, even if you were soulmates, Wonwoo had just denied the only possibility for you to get together. Romantically, at least. Which was unfortunately, what you’ve been hoping for all this time.
“You could always just be friends right? There’s some people out there who just decide to be friends and there’s nothing wrong with that. Soulmates aren’t always about romantic love.” It was the best you could offer. You were fine with pushing back your feelings for him if it meant that he’ll be happy with his decision. The last thing you wanted to do was force your love onto him. 
“Yeah but do you really know anyone who’s done that? Y/n, everyone around us started dating their soulmate the moment they found them. They’re going to come to me with that mindset and I’m going to have to shut them down.” He paused. “The person that they’ve been searching for all their lives will be shutting them down. Don’t you think that’s harsh on my part? That I should just suck it up and get together with them?”
“Wonwoo, I can’t speak up on behalf of your soulmate,” You choked back the pitiful laugh building up in your throat. “but if they’re supposed to be the perfect match for you, I think they would try their best to understand your feelings, because you deserve to be matched with one of the kindest people in the world.”
He didn’t take his gaze off the pebbles his shoes prodded at, and you took that as a sign to continue.
“With that said, let’s just enjoy today, and all the other days to come as we wait for your soulmate. And when they come along, we’ll take things one step at a time, and work through the problem as it plays along. Worrying about it beforehand isn’t going to do you any good, don’t you agree? That’s what you told me before right?”
Wonwoo slowly nodded and slipped his hands back onto his lap. “You’re right, I’m worrying too much about something that hasn’t happened to me yet. What if I don’t even get my mark this year? I won’t be able to totally forget the problem, but I’ll try my best to put it aside for now.” He smiled softly to himself, and you patted his shoulder.
“That’s the spirit! So you wanna go back to the others and go for a swim? If you’re up to it?”
“Yeah, I think that would be nice. Thanks for listening, y/n.” He got up from the bench and offered you a hand which you gratefully took. Silence settled between you too as you made your way out of the forest and back to the beach. The others were quick to notice you and began eagerly calling for you guys to jump in. Before you gave in to their persistent requests, you paused for a moment and started talking again.
“Oh, and Wonwoo?”
He stopped a few steps ahead of you and turned around. “Yeah?” He looked much lighter than he did a few moments ago, but for some reason, your heart broke a little at his happiness.
You gave him a downcast smile, and if he sensed the dismal tone in your voice, he didn’t say anything about it. “Just know that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to love your soulmate platonically. I have a good feeling they’ll understand.”
Maybe you had gotten a bit ahead of yourself that day by assuming that you were going to be soulmates. No matter how much you felt that connection in your heart, Wonwoo himself never showed any signs of feeling it too. This whole thinking-that-he-was-your-soulmate-before-it-was-even-confirmed thing could’ve just been your mind being a mix of delusional and hopeful. But you said what you said, and it’s not like he noticed any of your hints anyways.
And it’s not like he ever will notice.
------
The next day, you woke up with a tight arm wrapped around your waist and the sun shining on your face. If it was any other day, you would’ve simply closed your eyes and fallen back asleep without caring so much about what time it was, but thankfully you had enough sense in you to remember the date.
July 17th.
Lifting your head fully off the pillow, you followed the arm hugging you to find Chan, buried underneath a soft blanket, still snoring away. Nudging him lightly, he stirred and moved his arm to rub his eyes, freeing you.
“Morning, Chan.” You poked his nose.
He let out a few incoherent mumbles before opening his eyes and looking at you. “What?”
“It’s Wonwoo’s birthday we gotta wake up and get the others.”
“Can’t we do that in a few minutes?” He whined, and tried to return to his pillow, but you were quicker, and pulled him into a sitting position.
“No we can’t, silly, we have things to do before he wakes up.” After a little bit of bickering between you two, you finally managed to convince him to get up and he left to go take a shower. You let out a quiet sigh. One down.
Turning to the couch nearby you looked at Jun who was still sleeping soundly.
11 more to go...
By the time everyone woke up and the celebration kicked off, it was already late morning and you all settled on ordering some pizza for lunch and a couple of the boys left to pick up the food (being located in a remote cottage made it a little difficult for a pizza guy to come here out of the blue). As you waited for the food, everyone went about and did their own things to kill the time, and you found Wonwoo sitting alone on the porch. Joining him, you gave him a playful punch on the shoulder and smirked.
“Hey there, birthday boy.” 
He returned the smile with little enthusiasm and you could tell a lot was on his mind.
“Everything good? You’re not worrying about your soulmate are you?” You asked.
Wonwoo averted his eyes from your gaze. “I’m just thinking about it a little bit.”
“So...” You tried your best to play it cool. “I guess what we’re all wondering is whether you’ve gotten your mark or not?” 
You could’ve just dropped the topic and not asked him, more for your own good than his, because you would surely lose it if you spent another minute thinking about your soulmate. On the other hand, it would’ve been a little selfish if you chose to completely ignore the whole getting your mark on your birthday thing, but let’s be honest — what were you going to do after seeing it? Some things are better left unknown, and yet, you asked him anyways.
He hesitated for a moment before rolling up the sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing. The sun was bright outside and the humidity was definitely at a high, he must’ve been absolutely melting in that outfit, but now you knew why he dressed so conservatively today. “Yeah, I did.”
He angled himself towards you and you stared at the moon crescent just below his wrist. In place of the stars usually found in the sky, small flowers were scattered here and there. It was a beautiful, yet simple design. 
Unconsciously you crossed your legs and rubbed your ankle, where the exact same design sat, hidden underneath the socks you always wore.
“That design really suits you.”
It was all you could choke out without giving anything away. No matter how hard you tried, nothing could stop the rush of emotions building up in your throat. You wanted to scream out loud, you wanted to cry out to Wonwoo, because what the hell did you do to deserve this fate? Out of all the people in the world, why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be you? You were losing it. 
And so you fled. Like the fool you were, you fled.
Giving him a gentle pat on his shoulder, you excused yourself and went straight back into the cottage and into the bedroom. You didn’t leave until Chan came in and asked if you were alright and to that, you spilled everything. You didn’t care about Wonwoo’s secret at that point, because you just needed to have someone to confide with. Someone to understand you.
Though some of the story was quite a shock to him, especially considering the fact that you’ve been keeping your soulmate mark hidden from all of them, Chan listened to you with all seriousness. In the middle of your rambling, Seungkwan also walked in to see what was taking you so long. The tears on your cheek probably weren’t the best thing for him to see, but deep down, you were happy to have another person to talk to. And as you did, he looked at you with empathetic, almost pitiful eyes.
It was terrible, but still relieving.
You promised each other to keep your secret between the three of you. The others didn’t need any extra drama in their lives, and besides, they weren’t supposed to be aware of Wonwoo’s secret until he decided to tell them himself.
You spent the rest of the vacation distancing yourself from him, and instead, you stuck by Chan and Seungkwan’s sides, and they made sure to take care of you, which was something you’ll forever be grateful for. Whenever Wonwoo made his way towards you, one of them would create some sort of distraction or pipe up a new conversation to drag you away from the man in question. Eventually, he seemed to get the message that you didn’t want to be around him and didn’t try to approach you for the rest of the time there. 
You felt bad. So bad for ignoring him. It was his birthday for God’s sake, and you — his best friend — were ignoring him on his birthday.
It wasn’t his fault. It totally wasn’t his fault for not wanting to be in a relationship. Just like how it wasn’t really your fault for falling head over heels for him. For loving the wrong person. But it happened against your will, and now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions. 
If you had said just one more word to him on that day, would things have turned out differently? Maybe you would’ve gotten together? Maybe you would’ve come to terms as just friends?
Maybe, at least, you wouldn’t have drifted.
-----
“Happy birthday y/n.”
Wonwoo slid a neatly wrapped present across the table and you ripped it open without much hesitation, too excited to see what was inside. 
It was the sweater you’ve always wanted, a soft royal purple that was decorated with constellations along the sleeves and a moon on its chest pocket. Honestly, you were interested in the sweater because it reminded you of a certain someone, and you wanted to wear it because it made you think of him. You hadn’t told him about it though, and you silently wondered how he found out.
“This doesn’t make up for anything though.” You muttered childishly and took a sip of the cool drink in front of you. You were referring to the news he dropped on you just moments before giving you the gift.
He nervously adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry. Even I’m unhappy about moving across the world, but at the same time... y/n... this is my dream.”
You sighed and put down the drink. “I know. I’m just upset that we won’t be able to see each other for who knows how long.” You paused to think for a moment. “How long are you going to be gone for anyways?”
“At least 4 years.” He said in a small voice. “4 years for school and if I can get myself a job...” He let out a sigh in defeat.
“I don’t really know how long I’ll be there for.”
“Wow.” You breathed out. “So like I’ll really have to say goodbye then, right?”
“There’s still time, it’ll take a few months for everything to be planned and settled so don’t worry. But let’s just ignore that for now,” He swatted his hand int he air as if it would get rid of the gloomy mood settling over the table. “So much for a birthday gift right? I’m sorry for bringing this up today of all days, but I thought you deserved to know.” He smiled sadly.
“It’s fine. I appreciate you telling me right away.” You fiddled with the tag of the sweater in your hands. Ah, what the heck. Ripping off the tag entirely, you slipped the sweater on top of the clothes you were currently wearing. It was comfy, albeit a little bit stuffy with all the layers you had on, but you didn’t mind. “Thank you for the sweater by the way, I really like it, how did you know?”
“I had to do a little bit of digging to find that out.” He laughed. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been really close to Chan recently so I asked him if he knew anything about what you wanted for your birthday.”
“Ah.” 
You couldn’t tell if he was hinting something about being jealous of your friendship with Chan, or if he was simply stating what he saw. You also didn’t bother to ask. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes.
After your time at the cottage, things had fallen a little awkward between you two. You didn’t ignore him outright, you still had your usual conversations from time to time, but it was clear that at one point, you fell from best friends to practically acquaintances. Which probably was the opposite of what both of you wanted. While things have slowly been getting better overtime, the awkwardness between you two was still unbearable.
“Also...” He started tentatively.
“Mhm?”
“I was wondering if you got your mark?”
Right. He still doesn’t know. No one knew really, your own mark was still a secret kept between you, Chan, and Seungkwan. And you were planning to keep it what way, especially now that you knew that Wonwoo was literally going to disappear entirely from your life sometime soon. You knew it was a bit of a stretch to assume that. With all the technology that existed in the world, obviously you’d still be able to connect, even if there was a time difference. And surely Wonwoo would visit you guys once in a while. because he wouldn’t completely forget about you... right?
As much as you hated to admit it, no matter how hard the two of you tried, you were bound to lose each other someday. The man you loved, and still love, so dearly, will ambitiously pursue his dreams on the other side of the world while you, the lover, will miss your only chance to set things right.
You were being given another opportunity to tell him about your mark. Life was being kind enough to let you make up for your mistake at the cottage. And yet, you still looked into the eyes of your soulmate, and lied through your teeth, plastering on that same polite smile you’ve used over and over again, whenever someone asked you about your mark.
“No, not yet.” 
“Oh,” His eyes darted away from yours. “I’m sorry for asking.”
“No, no, it’s alright. I guess I’m just one of those rare cases, maybe I’ll finally get it next year.” You gave him a sad smile, which really wasn’t too hard to muster.
“You’ll find your soulmate soon, y/n. Don’t worry about it.” He gave you a reassuring smile and put his hand on top of the one you had on the table.
Yeah, I won’t worry about it.
=====
The taxi jerked to a stop and you gazed into the windows of the busy airport. All kinds of people were bustling about, carrying their luggages, making frantic phone calls, corralling their kids, reuniting with loved ones. The door in front of you opened, and Seungkwan held out a hand to help you up.
“C’mon, let’s go.”
You took his hand and he gently held onto you the entire time he guided you through the winding hallways. People brushed against your shoulder but you were too focused on your racing heart to bother with an apology. When you saw Wonwoo along with a few others in the distance, your fingers nervously tightened their grip on the small gift bag in your hands.
You weren’t ready to see him yet.
There wasn’t enough time for you to create some sort of plan B, because plan A was really starting to sound stupid to you now. When Seungkwan nudged you to go say your goodbyes, you hesitantly shuffled up to him, opting to stare at his sneakers instead of his face. You felt kind of pathetic, to be honest.
“Here, this is for you.” You placed the small box into his hands and gingerly clasped it before finally letting go. He opened it and pulled out a bracelet, its intricate pattern matched the one on your wrist, except his beads were painted a deep navy blue and white. 
“A bracelet?” He questioned as he slipped it onto his wrist, the small bell attached chimed along with its movement. It fit him perfectly. “Thanks y/n, you didn’t have to.”
“How could I not give you something before you go?” You countered.
“Hey, why are you acting like I’m leaving for good or something?” He joked lightly and ruffled your hair, which was rare coming from him. Usually it was the other boys who did that to you, but it’s not like you were going to refuse it. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Well that was a blatant lie. Though neither of you knew when he would be back, it was guaranteed that he would be gone for at least a few years. And if he ended up getting a job there, you might as well kiss goodbye to any chance of seeing him until you can manage your own work life. Maybe one day, you would be able to gather enough money to pay him a visit.
“I just want to make sure you have something to remember me by.” You answered softly, still refusing to look in his eyes. “In case we don’t get to see each other again.”
In case we drift apart like we already have.
“I’ll make sure to stay in contact, I promise.”
You opened your mouth to reply as the first tear dripped onto your cheeks.
I’m your soulmate Wonwoo. Since day one, I’ve always been in love with you, so please come home soon and we can figure things out. I can wait for you.
That’s what you were supposed to say. Your mind screamed at you to say the words you so diligently rehearsed all morning, but instead you asked him in a shaky voice. “Do you think you’re going to meet your soulmate there?” 
He must’ve mistook the regret in your voice as sadness over his departure, because he didn’t question your tone.
“I just might meet them, y/n.” You hated the way he sounded hopeful saying that. And then you proceeded to hate yourself for thinking that way. 
“I really thought my soulmate would be someone here, but I guess not. The world works in funny ways.” He laughed a little, and it just added to the awkwardness between you two. 
But it’s me, I’m your soulmate Wonwoo, do you not feel it too? 
“I also still don’t know if I’m ready to do anything romantically yet.“ He added.
You simply nodded and looked straight into his eyes, vision was blurry with tears, but you still gave him the warmest smile you could possibly muster.
As of today, you’ve finally made your decision. If you were going to say goodbye to him like this, you were also going to say goodbye to the feelings you had for him. You’ll learn to move on. Like any other problem you’ve faced in life, you’ll eventually move on. And if you were going to say goodbye to him like this, you wanted to at least send him off with the best version of you.
He’d always told you he liked your smile.
“I see, well, I won’t keep you any longer and say goodbye then, Wonwoo.” You squeezed his hand firmly for the last time.
He returned the smile. “Goodbye, y/n. We’ll meet again soon.”
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keilemlucent · 4 years
Text
lavender latte: ii
(T (for now!))
hawks | takami keigo x reader
chapter 1   ||   chapter 3   ||   chapter 4
ao3
word count: ~3k
You and Hawks’s second meeting.
warnings: mutual pining, shy reader-ish, ooc hawks, the fun stuff, fluff ; ) 
|||||||||||||
You didn’t hear anything from Hawks for the next few days. 
It was a fleeting disappointment, but you took his lack of contact as truth and reality. Some big shot, pro-hero wasn’t going to waste time texting a no-name, nobody barista, no matter how mutually flirty of an interaction was shared. 
Prior to actually meeting Hawks, you had seen the tabloids that his name spilled over. Shady stories of midnight rendezvous with models and celebrities, sultry pictures of his own on magazines at grocery store checkouts were a lot of your knowledge of him. He was a very eligible and active bachelor, everyone knew it. 
You reminded yourself that you didn’t mean shit to him, and moved on.
Until about a week from your first meeting, late into the evening, your phone buzzed.
You thought it was one of the team from the teashop, asking another question about a new blend you had made. 
Your eyes widened at the text that you did see:
 [unknown number]: hey angel ;) do you work tomorrow? it’s supposed to be a cold one and i’d love to try another one of your drinks
 You stared at your phone screen for a moment, mouth going dry before typing out a reply. 
 [you]: is this hawks?
 The next reply came only seconds later.
 [unknown number]: the one and only ;))))
  He... actually texted me?
Holy shit.
Another message came in. 
 [unknown number]: don’t tell me you go handing out your number to folks at work all the time :^( you’re gonna hurt my :^((( feelings :^((((
 You deadpanned at Hawks’s texts. 
You couldn’t believe the number two, pro hero texted like a normal twenty-some year old.
It was endearing, if not at the very least comforting.
 [you]: nah, just you tailfeathers 😉
[you]: i work tomorrow morning, opening shift. 6 am. think you can handle it???
 You giggled at your own texts, unable to hold back when you saw Hawks continuing to type. You quickly typed in a contact name.
 [tailfeathers]: E
[tailfeathers]: Z
[tailfeathers]: i’ll be there bright and early ;)
 Part of you, the rational, realistic part, doubted that. Sure, Hawks had texted you, but he wouldn’t actually show, right? He was a busy, busy man. He’d probably get sidetracked.
Don’t get your hopes up. 
 You tried to remain practical.
But, you also liked pushing your luck.
 [you]: see u then!!
[you]: btw your contact name is ‘tailfeathers’ 
[you]: ;)
 [tailfeathers]: what if i told you yours is ‘barista angel’
 [you]: i’d ask if you saw my name on that conveniently small piece of paper i gave you
 [tailfeathers]: i would say yes
[tailfeathers]: but idk angel seems like a more proper title for u 
You felt your still and heat rush to your face. 
He can’t be flirting with you over text. What the FUCK.
 [tailfeathers]: only angels can make coffee as well as u 😇
 “What a bastard,” You shook your head, sighing. Part of you was glad he made it more clear your identity was tied to coffee and not affections. 
 [you]: u flatter me
 [tailfeathers]: i only speak the truth ;)
 You bit your lip as you typed out the next reply, well aware that the evening sky had darkened and you needed an adequate amount of sleep to actually make it to that morning shift. 
 [you]: i’m about to knock out so i can actually be alive for my shift, but i’ll see you tomorrow bird boy
 Hawks’s replied quickly as seemed to be a trend with him. 
 [tailfeathers]: bird boy!!!!! 
[tailfeathers]: i’m moving up in the world
[tailfeathers]: see u then angel 
 As you got ready for bed, going about your mundane routine and preparing the coming day, you had no idea that Keigo was across the city, cradling his phone to his chest with a wobbling smile on his face, a foreign sensation filling his chest. 
He was very excited to see you again, even if it took a few days to get that far.
 |||||||||||||||||||
 The next day was indeed, terribly cold. Despite bundling up in a thick, woolen coat and a knit scarf, you nearly froze on the way to work. Despite the chill, the rest of the morning crew made it in just a few minutes after you.
“I’ll be in back until there’s a rush, alright?” You called to the three openers, all silly college students from the local university. They were all sort of dense, but they were loveable.
“Okay!” One smiled as they flitted to the front counter and seating area.
The back of the teashop was a smaller commercial kitchen, all steel tables and cooking implements. Lots of tools to actually do your job. Though you were the maker of the tea blends for the shop, a lot of your work consisted of packaging and fulfilling orders as well as design work for the teashop’s online presence. Truthfully, you were more of a jack-of-all-trades type of worker, but nearly all of it confined you to the safety of the back kitchen. The lack of stimuli made it easier to work effectively, quirk activated or otherwise.
You tied your apron tight around your waist, adjusting a few of your buttons and smoothing yourself down. The back remained frigid in the mornings, and you could only be glad you were layered up for the day. You pulled out your company-issued tablet and began tapping away with the stylus as the shop prepped to open.
You were too absorbed in your work to hear the bell at the entrance, just minutes after unlocking the door. 
 Keigo? Elated. His last week of hero work had been all long hours and late nights. His wings had grown sparse with overuse, barely carrying him properly through the skies. When he saw that his office day at his agency was due to be particularly cold, he knew it was the perfect excuse to give you a visit.
You hadn’t been constantly on his mind. Rather, you perked up in his thoughts semi-reliably, but briefly a few times a day. Most affections were forgettable, he didn’t have time for anything other than whorish trysts with other heroes and those of higher society who knew how to keep their mouths (somewhat) shut. 
Part of him, the part that the Commission’s ruthless training created, hated the way how you were sticking with him.
Another part of him, the kinder, softer, very repressed one, recognized his feelings and hid them safely. Vulnerable things required heavy protection.
 When Keigo reached the teashop, early as dawn crept over the urbanscape, he pushed the door open and was greeted by the rolling smell of roasted coffee beans and black tea.
Only a few other patrons were there, eyes wide as the top ten hero gave them a trademark wave, waltzing to the counter with his signature swagger.
The workers (none of them being you) gawked at him, jaws half to the floor.
“Hawks?!” One of them exclaimed. “Oh my god, can I get an autograph?!”
 (Keigo carried a few pens on him for occasions like this.)
 The worker, a young thing with a shock of short blue hair, wrestled under the counter for a notebook. Another of the workers also attempted to wrangle a bit of receipt paper from the fussy machine, flashing him a nervous smile.
“Of course, autographs are a given,” He winked at the two of them, sauntering up to the counter. “On one condition, though. Could you tell me if (Y/N) is working?”
The morning shifts workers proceeded to gawk more. 
 You sat deep in concentration, thoroughly organizing yourself for the day with lists and plans. You were only startled from your work when one of the other baristas popped her head back, eyes wide. 
“Uh, (Y/N), I know you’re busy, but Hawks is here for you?” She stammered, saying his name incredulously and pointing a shaking finger out at the counter.
You could hear his silky laugh just beyond the precipice. 
Your mouth quirked up in surprise. 
I didn’t expect him to actually come.
It was a pleasant surprise though, one that made your heart stutter in your chest.
You put down the tablet, making your way to the front of the shop.
Hawks leaned down on the front counter, signing various papers and items that the staff and patrons of the tea shop had given him. His smooth voice echoed beautifully around the shop, mixing with the din of the soft music that provided ambient sound. 
Thoroughly absorbed in his fan interaction, you leaned against the door frame, watching him as he had yet to notice you.
(You tried to look nonchalant, but it was probably a bit of ogling.)
Hawks’s scarlet wings appeared sparse, but still twitched and fluffed every few moments. He was dressed in his hero uniform, visor pushed up into the feathery, front bits of his hair. With all of his typical regalia on, he seemed out of place in the slow din of the coffee shop. He seemed to shine so brightly, making himself a focal point without even trying. 
Without the protection of his visor, Hawks’ honeyed eyes seemed brighter, luminous from the inside out. Even from your distance, you could watch their topazine shine dance in the soft lighting. 
His gaze drifted to you and positively lit up. 
(You didn’t think that was possible.)  
Your stomach fluttered.
“Well, if it isn’t (Y/N)!” Hawks beamed you a smile that could’ve put the sun to shame. It made something deep in your chest thrum. “For a minute there, I thought you’d pulled my leg about working today.”
“Oh, never, ” You grinned, moving directly in front of him at the counter, your shocked coworkers parting for you. “I tend to work in the back if the rest of our lovely staff is present.
You gestured to your very starstruck coworkers who all gave various gawking looks before falling away, shyness obviously overtaking them. 
It wasn’t like you weren’t feeling similarly, but your nervousness was better hidden. Facades were, in fact, a trained skill in maintaining and god, if you weren’t a master.
But, Keigo had his own mastery in spotting cracks in people’s veneers. And, easily, he saw your tension and nervousness. For anyone with less trained interpersonal skills, they wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing. But to Keigo? Your anxiety was as clear as the light you added to a room. A few of his feathers twitched, picking up on the rapid beating of your heart across from him. 
“What can I get you?” You asked, speaking through any of your fears, cracking him a genuine smile.
Keigo returned it without thought, chest warming.
“Mmm... Surprise me. Something to help me get my day started.” Keigo loved the way your eyes lit up when he talked, a little bit of knowingness between the two of you sparking. 
“Same specifications as before? Hot and sweet?” You asked, already grabbing a cup, flashing him a cheeky grin. 
Hawks raised an eyebrow, batting his eyelashes at you in a way that you couldn’t not laugh. He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned over the top of it, regarding you with half-lidded eyes, “You remember my preferences? I feel honored.”
“You should,” You winked. If he was going to shamelessly flirt, you would right back. 
 Truthfully, your personal attention made Keigo swoon like a goddamn schoolgirl. He could feel sweat growing on his palms, making the leather of his gloves stick. Normally, the sensation would’ve ticked his more anxiety-ridden tendencies into overdrive, but he could hardly focus on them. He was too busy watching you flit around behind the counter.
 “So,” You began, activating your quirk and beginning your process. “Why so few feathers? Get roughed up?”
Keigo chuckled, flexing what feathers he did have left for emphasis, “Basically. I have to give them a few days to regrow. A couple nasty days in a row means a couple days recovery.”
You hummed, turning to the espresso machine. Before pouring the shot, you gave him a little smile with the cutest quirk in your lips, “I’m sure you more than deserve the rest.”
 Oh, that made his proverbial dick swell.
Someone, a very nice, stranger barista, angel, telling him he deserved something kind? And, there wasn’t an edge of dishonesty in you. If anything, there was an earnestness in your quirk-blackened eyes that made Keigo nearly scared of the amount of vulnerability you gave him so freely.
He wondered if you showed that to all of your patrons. 
(You didn’t.) 
 You turned behind the counter, quirk activated and swirling. The familiar blending of your senses made your teeth ache and head burn with the overabundance of stimuli, but you worked through it. You reached through the external sensations to manifest your idea and feeling into a conceivable reality. 
You dumped any number of syrups and shots into the cup, placing it (and a lid) on the counter in front of Hawks. Warm smells of cardamom and cinnamon tickled both of your noses as you nodded down, “Let that cool for a sec, then give it a taste. I need a comprehensive review.”
Hawks plucked off one of his gloves, taking the steaming cup in his hand, looking down at the foam. His gaze flickered around the two of you, noting that the few civilians and coworkers once surrounding him had left you two with a small bit of privacy.
“What’s the inspiration for this one?” Hawks gave you a downright sweet, knowing look.
“Take a sip and guess,” You nodded down to the cup again, idly going to wipe down the counters with a rag slung in your apron.
Hawks blew on steaming liquid, throwing back his head to take a decently sized sip. You had to tear your gaze from the bob of his throat. 
  Keep it in your pants. 
 While you were suppressing being horny for the number two hero, Keigo was suppressing being horny for a fucking beverage. 
The flavor hit his tongue and throat and danced. It was warm, like the last one, spilling hearth-like heat into his chest and extremities. But, this drink tasted literally spiced, like it had some sort of pepper in it (according to Keigo’s untrained, pitiful palette). His wings ruffled, feathers rustling and twitching with the taste of the drink. Despite the heat flooding his body, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose as waves of subtle pleasure rolled through Keigo’s body. 
He placed the cup back on the counter, staring you down with incredulity.
You, cutely cheeky as ever, just smiled and crossed your arms over your chest, “Are you a fan?”
“It’s... spicy. How. Why. Is this even coffee?” Hawks asked. Despite his questioning, he took another sip, shuddering at the comforting heat it gave him. 
“There’s coffee in it, or, espresso,” You couldn’t help feeling a bit smitten with the way Hawks looked at you. Disbelief wasn’t an expression you saw many heroes wear, especially not one with a reputation like Hawks’s. Yet, there he was, in front of you, staring at his cup like you just served him battery acid and grass. 
“If that’s the case, gimme the rundown, angel,” Hawks peeled off his other glove, setting the pair on the counter. He surprised you as he shrugged off his lined jacket, plopping down in a nearby stool.
You hadn’t ever really seen this much of Hawks, not in his hero uniform anyways. Plenty of him was available for viewing due to his various modeling ventures, but seeing him in the flesh was far better. The black shirt of his hero costume stretched over the lean, sculpted muscles of his arms. He certainly wasn’t built in the same way other top heroes were, but from what you could see (read: drool over), Hawks certainly wasn’t lacking—
“See something you like?” Hawks raised an eyebrow while taking another sip,  devilish curl to his lips.
You really wished you had the bodily control to stop the red flush that grew on your face.
“SO —!” You laughed, diverting back to the drink at hand. “The drink.”
“Wonderful deflection,” Hawks set the cup down, still smirking. “So, the drink .”
Your fingers tapped at the countertop, living your blush down with a lack of eye contact. 
  He gets stared at all the time, chill out. 
Dude probably likes it, (Y/N).
 “The drink is a dirty chai, with some editions, of course.” You jerked your head back to the wall of tea blends, the familiar ebbing away from of your embarrassment. “We have a couple of different chai blends that I make in house. Several different chai concentrates too.”
“Forgive me, but a dirty chai?” Hawks teased.
“Wow, weak jab there, Hawks, ” You rolled your eyes. Hawks just continued to beam at you, swinging his legs behind the counter. “I gave you an oatmilk,  ginger chai with three shots of espresso and a few other secret touches. I wanted to make it warm again for you.”
 Keigo paused at your admission, (not-so) secretly reveling in your poorly contained embarrassment. Perhaps it was a bit cruel, but his job did carry some wonderful perks and he’d be damned to not enjoy them. 
“It feels like a different kind of warm, compared to last time,” Keigo took another taste to confirm. The spiced liquid flooded his palette again, skin pleasantly prickling at the taste. 
 You hummed, refusing to fully make eye contact with Hawks. 
Truthfully, you spent an embarrassing amount of time since the night prior thinking about potential sensations to emulate for Hawks. You were never sure of what type of vibe he would request, but having an arsenal of ideas made you feel more prepared to impress your new clientele. 
“I made it feel like dawn,” You replied, nodding to out of the fully-windowed front of the tea shop. The district you were located in was lit up by the golds and pinks of the early morning, stretching and awakening with the new day. “I wanted it to feel like how morning sun feels on your bare skin. All like... tingly, you know? Like... seeing someone you haven't seen in a long time. ”
 Keigo immediately noticed your bashfulness after you gave your description. In the same way as last time, the vulnerability of your manifested feelings left you warm and shy for him. 
You picked at a loose string on your apron, gaze directed down and away.  With his obscured view of your face, he could see the way you softly bit your lip, eyes occasionally raking him up and down and that retreating. Keigo could feel your pounding heart and slow, deep breaths. 
...
Keigo was whipped and he hardly knew you. He was so fucked.
You were too fucking cute. It was fucking illegal. It had to be. 
Keigo had been with sexy. He’d been with unattainable. He’d been with women and men who looked like they were crafted by gods as tempters and devils. It was all pleasure and Keigo knew it like the back of his hand. He got hedonistic bliss when he wanted it and he did so very, very well.
What Keigo was entirely unfamiliar with was the gooey, fluttery feeling in his chest as you finally looked up at him to smile and nod to the drink, “So, what do you think?”
Keigo’s brain fizzled, rendered into goo. If he didn’t have years of interpersonal training, he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to speak with his own revelations. Luckily, he was able to laugh off his internal stickiness, taking another greedy sip.
“Absolutely flawless, wonderful craftsmanship, (Y/N),” Keigo bowed his head dramatically. 
 You giggled at Keigo’s drama, missing the way how his cheeks lit up for you. 
Hawks dug in his pocket, pulling out a huge wad of bills and started to slide it across the counter, “This is a tip. All for you.”
You stared, horrified at the amount of money Hawks passed to you like it was nothing. Without thinking, you placed your hand on top of his, stopping his motion. Both of you stiffened pleasantly at the sudden, small contact. 
“That’s too much, Hawks, no,” You shook your head, but Hawks was a stubborn, insistent bastard. 
His wings fluffed up behind him, a feather moving quickly between your hands and pushing your up and away.
“What the fuck.” You half-groaned. Hawks fully passed the money across the counter, hiding his hands and feathers in his lap with a Panish smirk stretched across his face.
“Take it, or I tattle on you, easy trade,” Hawks shrugged, leaning his elbows on the counter and drinking deeply. He pulled away from his beverage with a relaxed-looking smile as you remained fluster.
(Holy fuck, you touched Hawks’s bare hand and it was so NICE—)
You could feel the eyes of your coworkers, staring at the money like some Olympic medal. You were well-aware that there was no way Hawks was taking back his money and you knew your coworkers would be too scared to ask for a cut. 
You gulped, taking the cash and tucking it into your apron pocket.
“You don’t need to bribe me to make you nice drinks, Hawks, it’s literally my job,” You told him gently.
Hawks raised an eyebrow, shrugging, “Accept it as a little treat on the side. A gift of my appreciation.”
You couldn’t argue with that, so you relented with a smile, shaking your head. 
And the two of your dissolved into easy conversation. Hawks told you about the most recent gigs he had been a part of. A modeling contract for a new skincare company and a sponsorship with a few other local heroes for a sports beverage were the most interesting. You were sure he was just humoring you, unable to tell you the nitty-gritty details of his life. Yet, he seemed happy to speak and listen besides. He chattered away, in the way birds do, sing-song, and free-flowing. 
Hawks was hardly a bird of prey, you realized. He was much more of a cockatoo type. 
You told him more about the tea shop, about your role and job. As you explained about the basics of different types of tea, you could literally see the far off way Hawks looked at you. It wasn’t of distraction, like spacing out, no. It was a look that hadn’t been directed at you in some time. You silently and quickly studied it and came to the nerve-wracking conclusion that the cute blush on his cheeks and half-lidded eyes and relaxed shoulders was fucking captivation, borderline adoration.
For.
You.
How the fuck were you supposed to deal with that?
(Keigo wasn’t sure either.)
 Luckily, neither of you planned on doing anything to stop your mutually budding feelings.  
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Text
HASO, “Boarding Party.”
Thought this was fun to write. Hope you all enjoy this morning. 
Geaa watched Captain Kell carefully as he guided his ship through the asteroid field She didn’t really consider that it required much guiding since each of the asteroids were spaced about 100 miles apart, but their maneuvering had less to do with multiple objects and more to do with the large ball of rock and ice that he was using for cover.
Captain Kell was a surprisingly talented pilot, and was easily able to maneuver the ship around the rocky crags that made up the mile wide asteroid. He was trying to cloak their radar signature from the Omen, which he said would be constantly scanning for unknown lifeforms.
She kept her hand clasped against the back of his chair, though he mostly ignored her.
He had to time it just right.
She saw the front end of the Omen appear behind the asteroid, a massive ship glowing blue in select areas, with little pinpricks of white light filtering out of its observation decks. Captain Kell gunned the engine and slid seamlessly under the belly of the Omen, where their radar signature would be indistinguishable from the ship above.
“Engage grapple.” He ordered, and his voice was calm and firm as his men moved to do as ordered.
He moved slowly towards the lower airlock and largest docking bay. Most of their supplies would be kept there. It would be the most full and the most out of use. Hopefully no one would notice them enter.
Captain Kell tightened his grip on the controls.
“Engage hologram.”
Someone did as ordered and soon there was a hologram of their ship next to the omen.
Captain Kell watched it very closely, adjusting their ship’s location by mere inches towards the airlock. His hands moved as delicately as that of a surgeon as he attempted to maneuver them into position. One wrong move and they would be sent crashing into the omen or flying away into space only to be spotted.
Captain Kell remained steady, holding them in place.
As soon as they were close enough one of his deck officers barked the command. There was a sudden sharp thud as the exterior attachment engaged the airlock door. They wouldn’t be opening the entire airlock, but using the small exterior door that might be used for spacewalks. The attachment they had would force its way onto the deck computer and open the door into their airlock.
If they did it right the airlock alarms wouldn’t go off.
Beatrice was standing next to the officer in charge of that, and she watched them hungrily as their fingers flew across the keys of their station. She had a knife in one hand gently twirling it from side to side, though the deck officer, thankfully, ignored her as she worked.
There was a sharp hiss and a green light blinked on her console.
Attachment made sir.
Captain Kell let go of the controls with a sigh of relief, and drew to his feet. He turned and headed towards the door in a hurry and Beatrice and Geea followed after accompanying him to the docking bay where their boarding team was waiting.
Geea had insisted that the vast majority of the boarding team be her people, though Captain Kell had insisted that a few of his chosen command come as well. She could see the ones named Angelo Mace and Noble waiting for them at the head of the group.
Captain kell made a few silent hand motions before taking position at the front of the group. He pulled up his hood and drew it over his face leaving nothing but the glow of his eye and accepted a gun from one of his companions. Geea simply readied her spear while Beatrice retrieved her knives.
Beatrice loved her knives.
Captain Kell motioned two of his men forward, and they did as ordered, slowly racing through to open the airlock hatch.
There was a hiss, and then the room was  suddenly filled with fresh oxygen. She had to admit that it smelled much better than her ship, or even Captain kell’ship. They must have had some pretty nice life support set up to handle that.
Captain Kell was the first to go in, creeping in through the deck and out into the open cargo bay. When he saw no one coming he ordered the others through until they were all huddled together behind a large stack of crates. The door sealed behind them so a snot to cause any suspicion.
“We take a small team upstairs.” he said quietly, repeating his plan from before.
If they were going to do this, he wanted to do it quietly if they could, and so decided to leave most of her men down here to guard the door. The small group he took with him consisted of Angelo, Geea and Beatrice who had insisted upon coming along no matter what. He didn’t seem pleased about the idea, but he let them, and after slowly checking over their gear they headed into the hull.
Inside Geea felt her heart racing. This had been far easier than she anticipated. If pirates knew how easy it was to break onto the omen, than someone else would already have done it. Of course some of the credit had to go to captain Kell for his superior flying ability, but she bet that you could find software that could fly a ship just as good as he could, and then she wouldn’t even have to worry about it.
They moved out into the hallway, which was mostly deserted aside from the distant thrumming of the engine.
He held up a hand and tilted his head to listen. She waited for him and Beatrice to give the all clear. Humans had better hearing than Drev on average, so she was fine with letting them take the lead. She was just happy to be here finally doing the mission that she had been promised so many days ago.
Enough stalling, she wanted action.
He moved them down the hall following the schematics that had been laid out for them earlier.
He must have memorized the entire thing, because he made his way don the hall without so much as stopping to console a map. On his shoulder, the fuzzy little alien still rested keeping an eye out behind Captain kell in case something went wrong.
She had no doubt that it was watching her as well, but she had no interest in hurting the man, he was her ticket to the good life.
He stopped before a small side door and opened it quietly with a hiss. The door itself opened into a tight maintenance tunnel, which was a small fit even for the humans, but for Geea it was downright unpleasant, and she had to walk tightly hunched over as they made their way through the halls.
Their footsteps were mostly quiet, and as they walked she could hear the sounds of humans talking quietly on the other side of walls. She guessed that they were mostly sleeping quarters, or even the night shift keeping up late.
She couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but it didn’t sound like they were too alarmed.
She was sure no one had noticed them yet.
They made their way up what must have been nine or ten floors. The palace was huge, bigger than she had expected.
She heard plenty of life before the ship, but she didn’t see anyone.
Geea keyed her mic and quietly asked for a status check. To her annoyance Mace answered, but she said it was all clear in the docking bay.
So they kept going.
Geea was growing antsy spear held tight at her side as they moved through the tunnels.
Captain kell held out a hand to stop them as they came to a final door. He pressed his ear up to it and waited for a long moment before crouching and turning to look at them, “This door is going to lead us onto the administrative deck. The Admiral’s quarters are at the end of the hall and up a flight of stairs. He doesn’t usually sleep with the door locked, but if it is, I am going to have to hack it.
Geea nodded, and Beatrice snarled bright white teeth glittering in the red light from above. He reached out and the door hissed open. There was no one in the hallway, and the sound of the engine grew distant as they stepped out of the maintenance corridors. Captain Kell kept towards the front of the group walking as if he belonged there.
Acting suspicious would just arouse worries in anyone who might see them in passing.
They made it to the end of the hall without incident, and followed him up the small flight of stairs. They were so close now, either way she knew that their mission was secured. There was no way Admiral Vir was going to be able to avoid all of them. 
She clenched her spear in one hand, especially not if she had anything to say about it.
The door was so close.
The man raised a hand to stop them and quickly reached up towards one of the overhead lights. He popped the casing and then with a strategic movement of his hand cut off the power. The interior of the hall went dark and Geea had to squint in the dim light to see as he moved forward towards the door. 
Captain Kell reached up to the touch pad next to the door, and it opened with a silent hiss.
There was no change in lighting, likely why the man had disabled the light to begin with. The inside of the room was lit by nothing more than a dull neon glow and whatever ambient light filtered in through the window. She saw an assortment of strange objects inside the room placed at odd intervals, a few things hanging on the walls.
She saw a Drev ceremonial spear in one corner, and then an entire set of human sized Drev armor on a mount beside that.
She knew the Admiral was the de facto sentinel of a Drev clan, but she had always assumed the position was more ceremonial than anything. It seemed as if she was incorrect.
They snuck a little further into the room, and in her excitement Geea was able to draw forward as she approached the bed and the sleeping person that lay within.
He was curled up in a tight ball, his head resting on the pillow.
Beatrice moved forward raising her knives.
Sure Captain Kell wanted them to do this quietly, but the two of them had never really intended on following that.
Beatrice’s knife descended, and then clattered off something with a sharp ping.
She yelped quietly drawing back as, all of a sudden there was a glowing white/silver spear blocking the downstroke over her knife.
The two of them looked up just then, and as if she had materialized out of nowhere,  a Saint stood before them, her armor glowing almost white in the dark. Her blue carapace like blue lightning. She was the most beautiful creature Geea had ever seen despite her size, and she was pissed.
Beatrice drew back in shock and then went to lunge forward hoping to finish the job quickly before something worse happened. But as she did there was a sudden hiss, and a shape dropped out of nowhere, long and thin and thrashing falling from the sky and latching right onto Beatrice’s face. Beatrice flailed and fell back onto the floor her face covered by the strange alien’s open mouth as its snake-like body thrashed from side to side.
Below them, the admiral had awoken and rolled to the side over the edge of the bed and out of sight.
The Saint lunged forward speeds faster than Geea could comprehend, and it was only by luck that she was able to dodge the strike, turn and make a break for it as Beatrice lay on the floor still thrashing and clutching at the thing latched onto her face. Behind her the Saint followed, and Geea sprinted even faster hoping that her longer legs would give her the advantage.
She raced even faster, until a figure at the end of the hallway appeared.
She grew relieved as she saw Angelo waiting for her.
He could help!
But as she approached the hungry glittering in his eyes caused her to slow in doubt, and he grinned maliciously a strange looking spear in one hand.
Not wanting to discover what that was all about, she took a quick turn down the stairs and onto the next deck where she ran down the hall and into a large room.
A shadow fell across the door behind her. The saint stood in the doorway glittering like a jewel in the half darkness, her beautiful golden eyes narrowed in hate.
Geea looked up an stepped back in shock as, across the room, another figure appeared. This one glowed white and floated off the floor like some sort of ethereal spirit. It had pale white skin and black eyes and when it moved its hands words were spoken to the room, “Somebody's in trouble.” It chanted at her. She turned in one last direction, hoping beyond hope that she would be able to escape, but there in the doorway she found Captain kell standing motionless and un-harried.
The small Celzex still sat on his shoulder.
“Kell, Help me.” She hissed 
But the man simply smiled and shook his head. No one moved to stop him.
He pulled back his hood, and then slowly, very slowly he reached up to his face, hooking his fingers under the mechanical component on the right side of his face and pulled. There was a sickening sort of tearing noise and Geea tried to look away in disgust, but watched as the mechanical component pulled away from the skin, and he dropped it to the floor leading his face bare.
With his other hand he reached up to his other eye.
She pulled back in disgust as he pulled something from the surface of his Iris and held it out for her to see.
“Contact lenses, they can change your eye color pretty easily.” her mouth was open in shock, as the man reached up his other hand, to unclip the metallic gauntlet he wore and allow it to drop to the ground a well, “I had been working for months to develop the character of Captain kell. Using secret communications between the UNSC and certain GA and UNSC transport ships,  I was able to give the impression of a pirate who could infiltrate any ship, and vanish without a trace.” He dropped his jacket onto the floor, “I showed up in a few locations, sold a few things on the black market, and had a few of my underground friends spread some rumors about the new player on the field.
He crouched down and unlaced one of his boots, kickin it off so she could see the shiny blue prosthetic on which he now stood.
“From there it was easy to feed my name to the right people until they got me in contact with you.” Admiral Vir ran a hand through his hair with one hand, “Imagine my surprise when you came and hired me to do a hit on myself.” He smiled, “Ironic, no.”
Behind him the figure from the bedroom stopped behind him, pulling off the eyepatch and handing it  to the Admiral.
She could see now that there was a resemblance between the two men, though side by side it was an imperfect comparison.
Admiral Vir slipped on his eye patch, “My brother Thomas did a wonderful job at impersonating me while I was away. We have our mother’s looks.”
He stepped just a little closer and smiled a familiar and affable smile, “This feels nice. I always thought it was a little stupid bot villians in movies to monologue when they have the hero trapped, but it definitely does give one a heightened sense of superiority. The knowledge that I am smarter than you and I outmaneuvered you at your own game, and since I have all your men lock downstairs in the brig, I think I am safe enough for the moment. Anyway it was easy enough to convince you that I needed more supplies, and demand to see your employer. In that way you led me right to them.”
He held up a hand, “And I don’t mean your fake employer I mean the real one you were talking to while I watched through the door.”
He was close now, so very close. Geea knew she wasn’t going to escape, but… but mauve.
She lunged forward, her spear aimed for his throat.
But there was a sharp clash of steel on steel and she was thrown back. 
“Oh also, I have a Saint.”
The blue drev stepped in between them just then stalking forward. Geea tried to protect herself but was only barely able to keep the blows from hitting her as she desperately flailed against the attacks.
The Saint didn’t even look winded.
She was pushed backward, into the circle at the center of the room desperately throwing herself to the floor to dodge an overhand swipe.
She moved to the other side as the second swing came in.
The Saint was just playing with her now.
She lunged forward again, but to her shock the Saint caught it in her upper right hand, wrenched the spear from her grip, closing a fist and punching Geea square in the jaw. She hit the ground hard dazed. She had never seen a Drev use tactics like that before.
“Tie her up will you Sunny.”
“With pleasure.” She growled 
Just then another figure entered the room, tall with dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, “Sir.”
“Yes Simon.”
“We have the ship locked down and all the crew escorted to safety, sir.
“Godo work.”
There was a struggle in the doorway behind them, and Angelo stepped onto the deck hauling beatrice behind him. She tried kicking him and headbutting him, but he didn’t seem phased.
“Ramirez..” The admiral said nodding. He threw Beatrice to the ground and Admiral vir walked over making a face as he looked at her head.
Her entire head from temple to jaw was a massive red welt, kind of like a hickey but ten times worse.
There was a soft Screeee sound and he looked up to smile, “There you are Jeffery.”
The strange alien creature slithered across the floor and climbed up his arm, “Did you do that?” he asked pointing at Beatrice’s face”
The Snake thing-made a happy sort of noise, and he patted it’s head, “Good boy.”
Admiral Vir smiled at Geea as two massive Drev stepped in to tie her arms and legs, “Imagine, if you had just killed me the moment you had seen me this would all be over.”
Geea was so livid at this point she could hardly speak watching as she was dragged out of the door watching the Saint and the Admiral recede into the distance, catching his voice just as she was almost out of view.
“Now to deal with the real problem.”
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taeescript · 3 years
Text
VI. Script of the Angel
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𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse
𝔴/𝔠 >> 2.3k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned.
𝔞/𝔫 >> there is a lot going on tumblr these days, and a lot of things just going on in life right now. i still hope to continue to share chapters with you although they may all be a little shorter than usual now. nontheless, i hope you enjoy (: 
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Wax – a diverse class of organic compounds which are hydrophobic, malleable solids at ambient temperatures. Typically containing melting points above at 40 C, they are obtained from multiple resources such as animals or plants. Wax can also be extracted chemically in petroleum. There are many uses for wax such as the manufacture of candles, final coatings on wood products and thickening agents amongst others. One of the most popular artistic use of waxes is the creation of statues from Madame Tussauds.
“Another what?” Jimin asks when he is dragged out of the interrogation room again by Namjoon.
“Dispatch just gave me a call. They want the homicide team on site because…well, you know the reason each and every time we’re called into site,” Namjoon runs his hand through his hair. The news had come as a shock to him as well. “You’ll have to release him, Jimin.”
Jimin shakes his head. “No, Namjoon. I was in the middle of something with him.”
“Jimin, be reasonable here! There’s another murder that’s been committed while you were here questioning him. It’s quite obvious that he couldn’t have killed this person.”
“I’m so close to cracking him!” Jimin yells in frustration. “Beside, how do you know he hadn’t gone and done this before he came in?”
Namjoon has to bite back his words.
“Fuck!” Jimin kicks the door. He doesn’t care that Jungkook could hear how angry he is on the other side. There really isn’t anything to hide between the two of them anyways.
After a minute, Jimin has calmed down. “I’ll meet you on site,” he says to Namjoon.
Namjoon doesn’t leave.
“Look, I promise, alright? I’m just going to send Jungkook off properly and then I’ll drive straight to the site. Text me the address,” Jimin says.
He only has one choice so Namjoon nods and leaves.
Once Jimin is left alone in the room, he punches the air blindly.
Jungkook sits calmly inside the room. It seems that luck is on his side. Perhaps whatever this case was would have Jimin off his back. It would be a little hard to continue any of his extracurricular activities if Jimin continuously monitors all his actions.
“You’re free to go, Mr. Jeon,” Jimin opens the door and speaks without looking at Jungkook.
Jungkook raises his hand and the handcuffs that link him to the table clang as metal hits metal.
Jimin walks up to him and opens the lock. Jungkook rubs his wrists and picks up his jacket on the way out.
“I really do hope you catch the killer, Detective Park,” Jungkook gives a light pat on Jimin’s shoulder.
...
Jimin recognizes her when he brushes under the caution tape onto where the rest of his team stands in a circle. It is not so much that he recognizes her facial features, but it is the outfit she is wearing. The same black and blue leggings.
“Fuck me,” Namjoon says the instance Jimin slides up besides him, “Fucking bat shitting balls.”
Yoongi has one hand placed over his mouth and his index finger pressing against his nostrils. There is a strange smell emitting off the corpse.
“A missing body part, again?” Jimin says. He swallows the bile that threatens to rise. The forensics team does not need to tell him what part is missing this time. It is glaringly obvious to the observer.
Replacing where it usually sits on the body is the head of another species – a buck’s crown with antlers and all. The girl is still standing although it is clear that she is deceased. Her body had been manipulated such that it looked like she was mid-sprint before being shocked by her attacker. She was a live manifestation of a deer caught in headlights.
“Let’s see if we can move her; bring her back to the lab for analysis,” Namjoon barks an order at the forensics team. They nod and move towards the body. Right as they put their hands on her, a loud voice yells,
“Don’t!”
It is too late, however. The team has already lifted her an inch off the floor. At his shout, they drop her immediately and that is when she crumbles, literally, at their feet. Jimin stands as her foot rolls in front of him. He stares at the shoe and foot that has been broken off at the ankle.
“Fuck!” Namjoon exclaims in alarm, jumping back.
Taehyung stands with his arms at his side, defeated. “You shouldn’t have tried to move her,” he mutters.
Namjoon’s face conveys both astonishment and confusion as stalks away to find somebody who could clean the body parts and move them back to the lab.
Jimin carefully tiptoes around the fragments of her body and walks up to Taehyung. “What the hell just happened?” he demands.
Besides being the team’s blood spatter analyst, he was an expert on a multitude of other subjects. “You saw how her body was positioned, didn’t you? Usually, victims are sprawled on the ground because gravity pushes on them, and their muscles have collapsed. She was standing. Something is keeping her muscles rigid post mortem,” Taehyung explains.
“Kim!” someone calls amidst the rubble. The victim’s body had been broken at most of the joints and a gathered team was currently packing each section in a bag.
Both Taehyung and Jimin walk up to the jacketed individual who had called out. She is bent over what looks like the forearm. A brown, semi-clear substance is pooling around the limb.
“This started seeping out all of a sudden. It’s happening to a couple of the broken parts, although most of the liquid is contained in the bags that we have stored them in,” she tells the two of them.
Taehyung bends down to examine the liquid. He is wearing gloves and when he extracts his fingers from the surface of the substance, it is slightly sticky between his index finger and thumb. He wipes his hand on a piece of tissue before slipping that into the bag as well. “Take that and all the parts back to the lab. If you can get a vial of the liquid to analyze, that would be helpful as well,” Taehyung told the assistant. She nods.
As the scene is being cleared, Taehyung walks back to the patrol car with Jimin. “What are you thinking about?” Jimin inquires, seeing that the gears inside Taehyung’s head are turning.
“Tell me, what’s the temperature right now?” Taehyung asks.
Jimin checks his phone and reports, “20 C, but with sunshine it should feel like 24 C.”
Taehyung takes note. “Slightly above room temperature,” he mumbles.
“What was that?”
“Slightly above room temperature,” Taehyung repeats louder. He stops walking and faces Jimin. “I’ve got a theory on what that is, but I can’t be sure yet. I’m going back to the lab and once results are out, I will call you immediately.”
Jimin nods. “I wanted to take a look around the site anyways. I’ll see you back at the station.”
Taehyung waves before leaving.
By the time Jimin returns to the crime scene, the majority of broken body parts have been cleaned. There is only a lone photographer who is packing up his camera into his bag. He greets Jimin with a slight bow on his way to leave the site.
“Any witnesses?”
Namjoon returns by his side. He shakes his head, answering Jimin’s question himself. “This is not a common runner’s route. It’s a short cut from the left side of the park to the right so not a lot of pedestrians know about it.” He sees how Jimin is still standing there with an unreadable expression on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks Jimin directly.
Jimin taps the bridge of his nose. “I know that girl,” he says softly, “Not personally. But I bumped into her before. It was at the park near our station. I also saw – ” His sentence is suddenly cut off.
“Saw what?” Namjoon asks further.
Jimin cannot continue his sentence. He knows what Namjoon will say already. Besides, if he really wanted concrete evidence against Jungkook, he must absolutely make sure that Jungkook was there at the park when the running girl was there. “Saw a red bird. I think it’s called a cardinal,” Jimin lousily finishes his sentence.
Namjoon gives him a strange look. “I’ve never pegged you as a bird watcher,” he comments.
Jimin shrugs. “I’m heading back to the station. Taehyung also says he has something on the possible C.O.D.,” he reports to Namjoon.
“You’re leaving me again to handle the crowd? That happened last time with Sara Michel’s case,” he groans.
Jimin shrugs again as if to say, “Sorry, what can I do?” He gives a reassuring squeeze on Namjoon’s shoulder before leaving.
This time, he is going to find unshakable evidence.
...
“Welcome back,” you smile at him when he enters the door. You are sitting at the table, pencil and sketchpad in front of you.
Jungkook smiles ever so slightly back before bending down to untie his shoes. They needed to be placed in their usual spot; if they weren’t, he would feel the irritation spread throughout his body until he went back to fix it. It is better that everything is perfect the way it is the first time.
After he has made sure that his laces were also tucked into the shoe as was his preference, he walks over to you. He can’t help but muse at how exquisite you look whenever the afternoon’s sunshine would brush through your hair. You are like a marble stature carved by the Greeks and placed on display in the middle of a garden. He moves his eyes over you like a curator would when assessing a piece.
You have your back turned towards him and do not hear when he walks behind.
“What are you drawing?”
Immediately, you stand and hold your sketchpad to your chest. It shields your work from his curious eyes.
“Something!” you blurt, your face flushing.
He cannot read why you are acting so strangely so he does what he always does around you: smile.
You clear your throat and tuck your disheveled hair behind your ear. “A package came for you. I left it in your room!” you say the tumbling words. It is your lame attempt in shifting his attention away from you to something else.
Thankfully, it works as he nods. He sends you a last playful smirk before making his way towards his makeshift bedroom. It is tiny, as you had originally used it as your storage room for your art utensils, but they had recently moved a mattress into the room for him and it helped that he did not have a lot of personal items with him anyways. The said package sits just beside the doorframe to his closed room, and he wonders again of whether or not you are scared of him. You never seemed to want to enter his room and insisted on speaking to him from outside in the hallway.
The package is not heavy and rather small in his hands. He is able to pick it up with one and balances it on his left palm as he opens the door. The blue walls welcome him into his small, personal haven. Carefully, he tiptoes his way between the old canvases and dried paint palettes. He passes by the yellow smudge on the wall and then collapses on the mattress in the back of the room. His suitcase squeaks as the wheels press against the body of the case while being wedged in the small space.
Once he is comfortably sitting cross-legged on the bed, he carefully finds a cutter and slices through the masking tape that conceals the contents of the cardboard box. The movement is as smooth and practiced as slicing through butter to him – a flick of the wrist. Once the tape no longer holds, he pries the flaps open. There is another small box tied with a red ribbon. A single white card is attached to the side. This is what he first takes out.
The envelope is embossed with a strange swirling design. He breaks the seal with another slice of the cutter, sliding out the cardstock letter. It had been written in elegant matching swirling cursive with a golden fountain pen.
“I’ve been waiting for you. Welcome to my town. A small home-warming gift.”
It has not been signed and Jungkook wonders if the writer was the one who wrote the words; each letter had been carved so delicately onto the material. He tilts his head as he thinks of who may have sent this to him. He has not told anybody that he is planning to stay in LA for the time being. He had never been one to open his circle of acquaintances and thereby it had remained small. Digging through his mind, he comes up empty-handed on any of the known possibilities.
Well, there is one person who definitely would not be the sender.
The bow becomes undone by a light tug from his fingers. It falls delicately onto his lap like a ribbon of red liquid. At that, the walls of the box fall easily to reveal its treasure, akin to the opening of an oyster.
His usual stoic expression becomes all the more frozen on his face when he sees what the gift is. Somebody has been watching him. Somebody knows about him. Somebody is out there.
For a single eyeball, pupil and iris augmented in aquamarine and azure hues, stares right back at him. The crystalline gift plucked so delicately from the girl who he had been planned as his next angel.
...
next part
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catofulthar000 · 3 years
Text
"ii requiire maiintenance."
Scully's voice is soft from the doorway, so quiet Tavros might not have even heard him approach. He hasn't been looking too hot, lately; sagging loose skin and sunken eyes, working his jaw back and forth like a grinding hinge as he feels one bony hand along the wall.
List of things you wouldn't wanna see standing over your bed at 3PM on Alternia: he looks like a daywalker at this point.
Tavros perks up immediately, pushing back from his desk and looking over him with gentle concern.
"Hey Scully, Uhh, What do you need?" He asks, biting his lip.
He'd really been trying, feeding him and cleaning him, giving him games to play or tasks to complete. Any time he wasn't out getting food or occasionally visiting with people he spent watching over or caring for Scully. He still had hope, that he would get better. He had to get better.... Right?
"Uhm.... Do you want something else to eat before bed? Or.... Are you tired?"
Scully has been following him like a shadow, quieter and quieter as the cycles went on, glued to Tavros's side whenever he wasn't working. He stands now, half-hunched over and gaunt, peeking out from under his overgrown hair and clinging to the doorframe.
(He's been having a lot of trouble getting around. Bumping into more things, having to feel along the wall as the ambient buzz of his psionics becomes less and less. Voidrot is a bitch.)
"food, ii thiink. ii'm experiienciing 2ome abdomiinal tor2iion."
He stands without hesitation, smiling soft even if he can't see it, it carry's into his tone. "Alright, Uh, I have some more of that grain and broth soup I can heat up for you. That should be pretty gentle" he humms.
He crosses over to him to take him to his computer chair, still warm from where he'd been sitting, and helping him into it. "It'll just be a minute."
He fishes a half full container of soup from his mini fridge and pops it in the microwave, grabbing a spoon and making sure it's clean.
"You went and sat with the bees earlier? They were happy to see you..." They were also worried, but so was he. They were all worried about Scully, but it'd be okay...
He takes out the container, checking it's not too hot to hold, or eat, before handing it over to him, taking his hands and guiding them around it before placing the spoon in.
"Thank-you."
Scully follows--he doesn't even swing his arms when he walks, which is ... weird, maybe--and hovers at his elbow, staring blankly off to the side rather than straight ahead. His brow knits, momentarily, but he turns his attention to the soup as soon as his hands are nestled around it.
It's ... probably hard to watch, sometimes. His hands shake so much now that most of the soup doesn't even make it out of the bowl, and what does make it to his mouth stays there for a moment with the stilted, shuddering motion of his adam's-apple (he called it his rumblesphere, weird biology) as he struggled to swallow.
Most of it goes down half-chewed. Thankfully, it's Soup™️. He can't manage more than soup these days; poor guy bit into a slice of an apple, the other day, and a crumbled chunk of one of his teeth came with it.
He manages about a half a cup, though, sagging slightly with his head resting on Tavros's shoulder for balance.
"ha2 DK contacted you?"
Tav tries a little to steady his hand without being too invasive about it, a warm, steady palm resting over his as he kneels next to his computer chair.
The soft mush of broth soaked rice doesn't need any real chewing, and Tav watches him eat quietly. He reaches up once to brush some of his hair back from his face, it's getting so long, but he doesn't seem to care to cut it, but at least he was keeping it clean for him....
He takes the container when he stops eating, setting it on the desk and putting an arm around him as he rests his head on his shoulder.
"Uhm.... Not yet.... You want to get in bed?"
"ye2 plea2e," he murmurs. He never seems to mind Tav's hands--sometimes when they're on his face he even leans into it, a twitch at a time--but this time he halts, his knees stuttering. That uncut hair hangs in his face as he slouches forward a little, with a shaking inhale.
"Tavro2,” he says, his shoulders hunching forward slightly as he tucks a hand over the seam of his own lips, "ii'm about two rumiinate."
He pauses as he's helping him up, almost anticipating it and changing direction once he confirms.
"Oop, Okay, Hold on." He mumbles, gently lifting him, (he's so light) and taking him just around the corner into the ablution block, steadying him over a basin.
"We're here." He confirms quietly, quickly pulling all his hair back and away from his face, gently rubbing his back with his other hand.
Scully is barely draped over the lip of the sink when he loses the contents of his gastric-sack. It's sparse, and it's thin, and this is probably the third or forth time there's been blood in it. His knees shake a little--Tavros's hands on him are just about the only reason he's upright, pitiful as he may be.
He nods, gasping, and feels until he finds the faucet to wash out his mouth. It's routine, now.
"2orry," he says, like he says every time.
"S'okay." He mumbles back, grabbing the glass by the basin to fill with cold water "Wanna try drinking a tiny bit before you lay down?" He asks, hand still slowly stroking his back as he stands behind him.
Mischief, the worm off the string peeks in the ablution block, sniffing Scully's ankle with a soft whine.
He nods, and when Mischief comes snuffling in, he nudges it gently with his foot in greeting. He likes Mischief a lot--more than once, Scully has been found curled up in it like a feather boa, sound asleep.
"thank-you," Scully murmurs, out of the sudden silence. His bony hand dangles around Mischief's snout, letting the baby Snuffle About with his fingers, "ii'm 2orry ii wa2n't your friiend."
The long blue beast fondly licks at his fingers with a golden tongue before pressing it's muzzle against his palm.
Tav smiles a little at the interaction before pausing when Scully appologieses.
"Oh.... Uhm.. It's okay Scully. It is not like everyone is always going to be friends with everyone...." He reasons as he stoops to gently pick Scully up, cradling him in his arms as he carrys him to the bed. "And, We are maybe kind of friends now.... Right?" He adds tentatively as Mischief follows.
He lays him down on the soft blanket he tucks him in with every night, waiting for Mischief to jump up on the bed and nestle under his head and around his neck, fluffy and warm, like an extra pillow.
Scully is silent, carefully feeling along it's muzzle, cradling it as he stares into space.
"ii treated you pretty poorly, though. you diidn't de2erve iit."
Tavros scoops him up, and he curls himself a little smaller. He's always fucking freezing now. It makes sense--he lost a lot of weight very quickly, and the heat leeches from him as easily as if he were standing outside in winter. We love a heat-sink king.
"ii don't thiink ii can be your friiend," he admits, with a whisper of something that might even be regret--just a smidgen, barely-there, "iit'2 not wiithiin my current functiional parameter2. ii would have, though."
Mischief nuzzles up, and Scully hesitates for a moment as he struggles to lift his head, so Mischief can nestle in with him. He buries his face in it's fur, and a little of the tension looses from his jaw. Better. Safe.
"Oh...... Well, That's okay.... You're still my friend, I think...." He humms as he tucks the blankets warm around him, making sure he's in a comfortable position before stepping away for a moment.
The two fluff bugs crawl over the blankets to curl up against him, and are soon joined by a pufftapod and a nugget, all gathering around to help keep him warm. Even Tink flutters down to nestle by his neck, licking his ear a couple times before settling down.
Tavros opens a shaded window to let some of the warm, morning air in, smiling as a few pairs of bees buzz into the room. "Uhm, Anyway, If you think you would have, Then that still sort of counts."
He comes back around to the other side of the bed, carefully crawling over to lay down beside him, pillow propping up his head a bit as he lowers himself face down, reaching out to let the warm weight of his arm rest over Scully.
One by one, everything Warm in the room curls up around him. Maybe they know, maybe they don't. Maybe they just know he's cold and he shouldn't be. The fluffbugs settle around his feet, the pufftapod at the small of his back. He tilts his head for Tink without thinking, a little more tension melting off of his face.
He thinks he might miss his lusus, sometimes. He doesn't know if it's a biological function or a sentimental one.
He shakily lifts one rail-thin arm from the nest of covers for the bees to alight on, eyes fluttering a little as Tavros settles in.
It may have been harder to notice before, but Scully is so ... fragile. Smaller than ever now that his skin clings to him like paper. He was 4'11 to begin with, and under Tav's arm he probably feels like a ragdoll, chilly and gangle-edged.
Scully nestles up to his arm with a sound that might have been exertion, might have been a weak little trill. The bees bumble over his wrist, between his fingers as he curls himself up small against Tav's side.
His eyes crack open, and he tilts his head suddenly, towards the blank ceiling as if staring at something.
They know something, in the way beasts do. Tavros should probably know too, but.... they're just worried. He's worried too. He shifts closer to help share his own warmth, arm curling around him to pull him in when he strains, returning a quiet trill.
They all settle in, safe and warm and still, a half a dozen beating hearts, breathing slow. Scully looking up so suddenly rouses Tavros from drifting off. His eyes flutter open as he peeks over at him, humming a curious noise, soft and sleepy.
"Hmmm.... Scully?"
"Hm?"
His head twitches towards Tavros, but his eyes stay glued to the ceiling, silent. One of his hands scritches idly atop the worm-on-string's head. He sags with exhaustion, but his eyes remain open, fixed above them even in his drowsiness.
"You okay....?" He mumbles. He can't turn his head to see what he's looking at, but he shifts his arm slightly, his hand resting over his on top of Mischief's head.
"yeah."
Scully nods against his arm, nestling a little closer. His voice rests at a murmur. Peaceful, unhurried as he dozes.
"ii wa2 ju2t watchiing the 2tar2."
Tav smiles sleepily, gently squeezing his hand as he settles back down. He assumes he means the fairylights hung around the ceiling, forgetting for the moment that he's blind.
"Hope they're pretty...." He sighs, nuzzling back into his pillow to drift off to the sound of buzzing bees and ambient city noise playing on his palmhusk.
He always liked the city noise better.
Scully curls in on himself, nuzzles against Tavros--safe, and warm, and more cared-for than he has been since before Dart disappeared--and Sleeps.
(When the cool light of the moon washes in, and the room starts the take on a little chill, and the animals start to whine, Tavros can find him. Still curled up so, so small, so cold he must have been lying there for hours, eyes still half-lidded open, staring up at the Stars.)
It's the soft, sad mooing of his lusus that wakes him first, then the slight chill that rouses him. His hand still rests over cold, stuff fingers, and he pushes himself up as he starts to realize just how cold they are.
He stares down at him, slowly tuning into the beasts' emotions, Mischief squirmed out from under him to lay on his unmoving chest, Tink nosing sadly at his ear with mournful lows. He doesn't have to check, he knows through them, but still he gently squeezes his hand, murmurs "Scully?" before his breathing starts to catch and hiccup, before tears start streaming down his cheeks.
His face scrunches up, eyes squeezing tight as he starts to cry, shaking with open sobs as he leans over him, one hand holding his tight as the other gently brushes over his hair. The falling tears burst instantly into bright red flowers with black and white centers, greenery stretching from under them to slowly weave a carpet of tiny blue flowers beneath them.
He doesn't know how long he cries, but it's long enough that by the time he opens his sore eyes, his entire room has been carpeted in flowers of grief, coating the floor and climbing up the walls, tangling through his bookcase and out the window, and encircling Scully's still body in a bower of red and blue and black and white...
He... has to get out of here. He needs to get away, from this, from anything, everything. He shakily let's go of his hand, climbing off of the bed and stumbling a little to catch himself on his desk. He can't just leave him here though, can he?
He fumbles on the surface for his palmhusk, brushing away forget me nots and pushing at the screen with leaden fingers and bleary eyes. Ringleader was Scully's other caretaker. He could take care of this, because Tavros, just
Couldn't.
A brief message, and he shoves the device into his pocket, more out of habit than anything, Before stumbling his way out of the room. He stretches his wings out in the cool moonlight and flys away from it all without a second thought.
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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years
Text
Sleepless (LoV x Reader)
Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship
Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Kurogiri, Dabi x reader
@riarora messaged me with the request: "So I was thinking platonic LOV x child reader (You can make them 18 if you're more comfortable, but I was thinking more like 14-15)The reader (I'll refer to them as she/her, but you can make it gender neutral) has really bad insomnia so every night, she would be pacing around, doing anything and everything to make sure no dark thoughts take over. Usually, none of the LOV would bat an eye, but considering the fact that she's a child, they feel sympathy, so they indirectly try to get her to fall asleep. Like, sending her on extra missions (always with protection of course) or changing her normal tea with sleeping tea, or maybe just straight up telling her to sleep."
Genre: Comfort
Word Count: 2,291
Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog
a/n: Thanks for the request sweetie!  I hope you like it~
Wrote this while listening to a Shinsou playlist on Spotify and it was pretty chill to listen to, if y’all want the link you can comment or dm me and I’ll send it.  Something different, but I like how it turned out. It's twice as long as I thought it would end up being, but I think it fits.  It's a comfort story that I hope you guys will read even if you don't normally read stuff for the villains.  I really like it, I hope you guys read it if you need some comforting.  Enjoy~
Like a lot of people, I don't have the nicest thoughts.  Most nights, I'm trying everything to block them out and find the sweet release of sleep, whether it's trying to consciously think of other things to block them out, escaping out of my sheets to pace or run in place inside this small room I was given, or getting up to get a snack.  Unsurprisingly, none of it works.  The rest of the League constantly tease me about my dark circles making me look more villainous all I do is smile, because at least it means I'm part of something now.  I would ask them to get me something to busy myself, like a sketch book or a notebook to keep me busy at night, but they aren't my parents; they have no obligation to take care of me and they've already give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.
Little by little, the perceived barrier between us broke down before I realized it.
It started when I took one of my late night trips to the kitchen only to see the light on already.  Toga's crooked but innocent smile beams up at me as she twirls a knife in her hand, leaning against the counter.  "You're up too, hmm~?  Wanna take a trip with me?"
We ended up shrugging on our jackets and masks, walking into the dark, brisk night to the nearest grocery store.  "You waited until 2 AM to get pomegranates?" I raised an eyebrow at her zipping straight to the produce section of the market.
"I didn't wanna go alone~" Toga casually responded in her singsongy voice.  "A little girl like me shouldn't be out alone at night.  Besides, late night shopping in a practically empty supermarket is the best time to go.  It's super creepy!"  She giggles, filling a plastic bag with three large fruits.
We returned to our hideout and she asked me to help her de-seed them.  I slide in next to her, taking the knife out of her hand.  Not like I had anything better to do.  What was I gonna do, sleep?  Sure, okay.
She sliced the fruits in half and held her hands over a large, empty container, using just her hands to push the seeds off the bitter white core, humming to herself.  "Are you sure there isn't a more...strategic way to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess she was making of her hands.
Toga just giggled and held my stare with her cat-like yellow eyes.  "When it gets all over your fingers, it kind of looks like blood doesn't it?" She shivered in ecstasy as she licked the scarlet juice running down her hands and the knife she cut them with.  "Mmm, so sweet."
While I continued, trying to avail to be as clean as possible, taking sips of the tea she made for us while we work.  I chanced a few tastes myself, chuckling at my own hands.  "You're right, it looks like we've commit murder."
"Right?" she chirped with the widest grin, "Isn't it fun?"
I made a better point to get more juice on my fingers before curling my fingers grossly towards her.  "I want your heart, Toga.  Give it to me!" I growled.
She giggled and held one of my wrists so she can lick some of the juice off.  "Too bad you can't have it."
After we finished gathering the seeds into the bowl, we sat on the couch, munching on them by the handful and finishing our drinks.  My eyelids kept drooping as I drank my tea.
"We should go on adventures more often," Toga purred as I near the end, taking my cup, laying me down, and covering my body with a blanket before petting my head.  Her voice singing, "Sleep well, (Y/n)" was the last thing I heard before drifting off.  It was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long while.
.
A few days later, Kurogiri stopped me from heading to bed while the rest went off.  "I heard you and Toga up late a few nights ago.  Why don't you help me clean up before going up?"
I agreed, mostly because I would be awake with my thoughts anyway.  He had me shining his glasses, climbing up a ladder to dust the top shelves of his bar, wiping down the counters, and organizing his liquor.
"Have some of this, child."  He set down a cup of tea and saucer on the counter while I was organizing his top shelf liquor, the clock flashing 1:57 AM.  "You've been a big help."
I climbed down carefully and stare down at the translucent, peach colored liquid carefully.
He noticed my cautiousness.  "How are you adjusting?"
I tilted the cup around, swishing the liquid around before holding it up to my lips.  "It's better than where I was before, thank you."
"I'm glad you're settling in and getting along with the rest."
"It's just Toga so far."  I sipped a good portion of the hot liquid, easing down my through smooth as the honey I can taste that he added.
"It'll take time for the others to warm up to you.  Shigaraki and Dabi especially don't take to strangers that easily, but they'll come around."  His cold, portal enclosed hand rested on my head.  "We're happy to take you in as our family, (Y/n)."
I smiled at his assurance of me, nodding in gratitude, but still hesitant about feeling that I fit in here.
We talked for a while more until I finished his tea and he sent me off to bed.  Though reluctant - I even offered to do more cleaning up to keep myself there - he insisted I leave.  I trudge to my room, the exhaustion in my bones and muscles more apparent than usual.  I know this old trick; even when I'm fatigued, my thoughts still keep me up.  But as I ease under the blanket and close my eyes, I feel myself pulled down into sleep without interference.  I started thinking there was something in the tea.
.
It took a while for Shigaraki to come around, as Kurogiri said.  He heard the rustling of me rolling around in bed on his way back from getting a glass of water from the kitchen.  "Hey, you still awake?"
I turned over and sat up.  "Am I bothering you?  I'm sorry-"
"You wanna come play games with me?"  It was an unexpected question.  He never talked much to me so I figured he wanted to keep his distance.
But I still agreed, ending up in his dark room where only the TV cast its artificial light over us.  He pulled up another pillow for me to sit with him, leaning back against the mattress and box-spring stack.  He resumed his game, some kind of RPG with amazing art and storytelling.  The main character had jet black hair and traveled with three other guys of varying talents and personalities.  They seemed to have a great relationship together as they trekked across their virtual world in a fancy car. (1000 brownie points if you know which game i'm referencing)
There was a hilarious part in the game where the crew rode on the backs of these fluffy, yellow birds that were the size of ostriches.  "What's the point of this part?" I asked curiously.
Shigaraki beamed at the screen, his chapped lips spreading in joy.  "It's just something you always have to do in these games."
My eyes remained glued to the screen.  Shigaraki wouldn't ask me if I wanted to play after one time, which I appreciated.  I'm not too good at playing games, I prefer watching other people play them from the sidelines.  I followed the complicated story line, impressed with how fleshed out the world is, the detail in the art, and the power system interface.  If I were better at gaming, I'd understand how amazing it would feel playing it; I was immersed in it even as a spectator.
The game got to a cave-crawling segment.  The eased up voice acting, ambient noise, and dimmed lighting made my eyes heavy.  I didn't want to fall asleep in Shigaraki's room, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I went back to mine.
"You can sleep if you want.  Get comfortable."
Though he didn't particularly use a motherly voice like Kurogiri, I understood he was trying to come off the same way.  I ended up laying on my head on my pillow, sprawling onto the floor on my stomach, the noise of the game slowly lulling me off to sleep.  In the morning, I would wake to a blanket pulled over my body.  It somehow became a weekly occurrence; we wouldn't talk to each other, but the silence was comfortable.  It was reassuring that I didn't always need that strange tea to put me to sleep.
.
Late nights with Twice are probably my favorite.  He's like a huge dad, or much older big brother.  I connected with him on a more emotional level than the rest.  If I found myself in the kitchen rummaging for snacks, he'd come up and pick out a bunch and sit us at the table with some tea.
"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes," he admitted, popping some chips in his mouth.  "I was lonely before I found these guys.  I had no one but myself, and the many versions of myself weren't the most forgiving on me either."
I stared down at my glass of warmed milk.  "So your thoughts were actually told out loud to you all the time?" I whispered softly.
"Yup."  He blinked before waving his hands in front of his face wildly.  "But that doesn't mean I had it worse than you, that's not what I'm saying at all!  Your problems are just as valid and important and-!"
"It's okay, I understand."
He offered a sympathetic lopsided smile.  "I know you've been through a lot, kid, and it probably feels like a lot and nothing at the same time.  The times when it feels like a lot will hurt, and that's okay.  You'll get through it and grow up to deal with it in your own way.  And there is a light at the end of the tunnel, believe me.  You can't see it now, but it's there.  Keep fighting through it."  He touched my hand over the glass.  "I'm here for you, we're here for you."
I felt like crying, suddenly choked up by the bitter nostalgia of missing my parents.  "You'd be a great Dad, Twice."  I tried to cover for my tears and unsteady voice by clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.
He hummed in response.  "I've always wanted a kid.  Things never ended up that way though."
I found myself finally sobbing at his misfortune piling on top of mine.  "That's really shitty actually," I choked out.
He handed me a tissue to wipe my face with.  "Let it out, kid.  Sometimes it's good to just cry it out."
And I did, until I finally sobbed myself to sleep at the table, and Twice picked up and returned me to my bed, tucking me in like the soft dad he should've been.
.
Dabi remained the hard nose one, keeping his distance and looking down on me.  Like Shigaraki, walked by my room while I was tossing around, but he stood over my bed.  "Hey.  If you don't go to sleep, I'm putting you to work."
Put me to work he did, sending me out to fetch him snacks, cards, or cigarettes.  Once, he decided to join me and we ended up on the roof of our abandoned building after coming back from the convenience store.  The stars already dusted the sky as Dabi lit the cigarettes with his blue flames just for fun, watching them disintegrate into ash in front of his eyes.  I never knew how to get him to open up, he's too gruff for me to start a conversation with him, so I stuck to being mesmerized by his flames.
"What's on your mind that you can't sleep, kid?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence and cutting off his quirk to stare me hard in the eyes.
"N-Nothing."  I hated to admit it, but I'm scared of Dabi the most.  Both him and Shigaraki can end my life in a fraction of a second, but Dabi overall has the scarier aura.  "Just...thinking."
After a few more moments of braving his stare, he looked up.  "Yeah, we all do that a lot, don't we?  Us damn human can't help but think.  It'd be nice if we can pull the cord sometimes, yeah?"
"I guess," I answered carefully.
He studied me again out of the corner of his eye before flickering back up.  "Do you ever think that's why none of us survive well alone?  We need other people to distract us all the time because then we'd get stuck in our heads, and we all know how dangerous that can be if we're stuck there for too long.  It never ends well."  He adjusts himself, placing his hands behind his head to rest his neck.  "We all got demons, kid.  It's what makes us stronger, but you gotta grow from them first.  And I guess that's what the rest of us are for, so if you need us, you know what to do."
It was with Dabi that I realized he had a point.  I'm not alone anymore and none of the others seem to think of me as a stranger or a stupid little kid they have to be responsible for.  I'm a member of this group now, I should rely on them as support, just not in the traditional way.
How I ultimately ended up here doesn't help any of the awful things I tell myself or what happened to me, but being here definitely helps, especially when I'm surrounded by people who subtly share solidarity with for now.
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