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no-droids · 3 years

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Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!

A/N: Hey yall!!! So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read! School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕

Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!! As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!

Day 5–11:13am:

You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot. Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider. You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns. The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.

Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime. Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip. You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago. On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes. Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.

It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.

“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it. “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it. Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy. Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you. Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.

“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth. “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”

Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours. “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids. “They start at eight.”

The fireworks, you almost forgot. You know what? Today is a good day. You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one. The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back. Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.

Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates. The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago. The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask. Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes. It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by. Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony. Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color. Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.

Extravagant, magnificent are both words. Floral is another.

It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city. As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming. The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete. You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you. Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers. Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops. Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them. You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.

About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch. There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself. Good intentions, terrible idea. Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours. It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at. Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.

Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language. Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different. It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy. Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it. Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on. There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.

At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin. You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.

A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession. First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always. Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs. Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions. The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…

Through it all, you think of Din. No matter the faces, the sights you see. There’s someone juggling. There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts. There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed. Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din. Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you. You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year. You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go. For you, he’d go.

Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second. Why… Why was that scene so vivid? So wistful? You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din. But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation. Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him. Why? You want to travel the galaxy, right? You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?

For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.

More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over. You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.

“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress. So many fucking people here, you know her pain. “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”

She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.

“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you. “Before anyone knows they’re missing. Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while? You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”

Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task. Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be. Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days. The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.

“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees. It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem. “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”

You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word. You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.

Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you. The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet. The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.

“How did you find us so fast?” One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.

“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn. Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off. All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult. “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”

“Are you gonna rat us out?” The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.

“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away. “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”

You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.

The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second. Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective. Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—

He’s here… isn’t he?

Only, there’s nothing. Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will. You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.

It’s so… unexpected, this feeling. It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter. You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens. Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not. Playing with you from so far away.

This… this is a taunt.

The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary. Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was. This is scarily sophisticated. Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you. You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid. You know him with your eyes closed. You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace. Not because you can see it, not really, not directly. But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.

“You okay, Nerida?”

The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you. The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.

“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room. He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least. But you’re not stupid, you know what this means. You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way. He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down. You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.

“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools. “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left. Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows. You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering. Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.

Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place. When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily. A purple fruit. She must’ve saved it for you.

Maker, fuck yes. It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors. As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards. It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him. You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.

Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it? It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float. It’s just a thing. Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives. Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles. You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time. You don’t know what else you’d call it. Love is the only word. To love, to know. To hold in the heart.

Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group. You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.

“Where is everyone going?” You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem. It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together. They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately. Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next. A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.

“The eastern part of the city!” Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings. “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”

“Is…” You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn. Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway. “Is it part of an ocean?”

Naydee shakes her head. “A really big lake!”

Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it. You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view. And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.

Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage. You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze. So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you. Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes. They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown. You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.

And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on. All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out. They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything. You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city. It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time. You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.

And that’s when you see him.

But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen. You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for. Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away… This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes. If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.

You have a decision to make, very quickly. Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear. Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time. Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.

You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping. Baby. He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion. You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to. You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.

Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly. What do you do, what do you do?

No matter what, you know it’s over. Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result. What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you? The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.

Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear. When you do see me… try to outrun.

You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.

Unless…

Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor. You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right. This maybe has a… two percent chance of working? Maybe? Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have? Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.

You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead. He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing. Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left. Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—

A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.

Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear. Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.

You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.

“Miss Nerida?” A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him. Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.

Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner. They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units. Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you. Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.

Just a few more hours, kid. A few more hours.

Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.

“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking. Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong. “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”

They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you. You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it. She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.

“What did you do?” He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice. He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed? The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.

You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory. It worked. It worked. You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip. Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.

“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze. “Don’t get caught.”

There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds. “You look beautiful.”

You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you. The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

He had you. You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere. In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you. Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.

But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you. They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following. It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.

He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour. It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.

Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes. There was… a moment. Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet—

No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be. It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.

But he can’t get rid of it. Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered. The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear. It was silvery, he’s almost certain. Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.

Color. Everywhere. Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it. Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream. The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.

That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would. You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.

You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now. You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud. You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though. Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be. Fully, without worry or fear.

Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—

It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen. So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it. You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.

As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response. There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.

Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.

Din.

You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above. You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself. “Do you always see in black and white?”

It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does. “Only when I’m tracking someone.”

The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you. You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is. He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?” You ask after a moment. This whole time, everything has been grey for him?

“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all. “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”

For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying. Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly. He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him. “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”

He takes a second, before clarifying for you. “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”

So that was the ultimatum. He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again. Does he not understand? Does he not know what you know? Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him. It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest. And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive. Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t. Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.

“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky. It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point. “You’d find me without the helmet. And I’d find you.”

The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick. You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course. That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred. Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight. This is a celebration of life and family. Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching. A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.

“Think so?” He asks softly. He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant. You’re able to hear it in his words. You don’t know why, though. Doesn’t he believe you? Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way. Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all. Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love. This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that? How would the Mandalorians reconcile that? You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face. It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.

“I know so.” For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does. Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you. “Will you look at the sky?”

“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t. Not the way you want him to. And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you? The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest. You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them. All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time. You want him to know the significance of that.

“With color?” You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.

“I…” Din wants to argue, or at least say it again. He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off. It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.

“How do I fix it then?” You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold. How do you fix this problem? How do you convince him to look with you? You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left. “Do you want me to come look for you? It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away. Look at the sky.”

It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay. You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response. You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you. He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.

But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again. This must be the end, they saved the best for last. Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.

“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you. Maker, it is, isn’t it? Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying. Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.

It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways. It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.

Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.

“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on. “Come and find me.”

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you. Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.

Stars, that’s a lot of children. They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.

“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her. “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up. At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you. Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day. You’re going to have to say goodbye now.

“What happened to your family?” She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention. “Have you been in touch with them? If not, I’m sure you can come back with us. It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”

You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.

But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?

There’s more people here. More danger, but better places to hide. It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense. But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women. He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.

It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule. Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses? Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time? No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.

“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that. Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end. Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond. Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical. Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it. You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.

“I…” Quick, come up with something. You clear your throat. “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them. I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”

Naydee smiles and nods. “Sounds perfect.”

Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t. You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is. You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them. But with Din, you don’t have any walls. They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since. It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.

Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is. Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back. The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out. You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.

You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is. You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time. He could be anywhere now. Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view. One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so. Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.

The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach. Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy. If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it. These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous. Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.

It doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong. This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so. It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier. Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet. Why? Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right. What’s he waiting for? You can’t have won. It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.

“Sorry!” Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face. “Didn’t mean to scare you! I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there. “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”

You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus. She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din. Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you. You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far. Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards. You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls. What is he doing?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it. “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently. The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.

Fuck, you just need to breathe. As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax. You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance. Breathe. Focus. There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.

Can you eat? You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy. You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now. The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard. It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there. The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there. Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator. Five minutes. You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you. Can you feel him? Is he closing in?

You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath. Focus on that feeling from earlier. The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards. Can you feel him?

Something catches your eye.

Or no… it doesn’t, does it? Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss. The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual. Nothing else.

But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall. It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat. He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?

Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back. You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—

—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.

Run. Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t. Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass. He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can. The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away. Where’s the kid? How did he get those robes? Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?

Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.

You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them. It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward. Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster. Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.

As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you. Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.

Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you. Walk right by… Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing. He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place. The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight. Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away. The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster. It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.

You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet. Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door. Where is he? There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them? Wasn’t he right behind you?

Behind you.

There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react. Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.

Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast. The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him. With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw. When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.

But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you. Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone. You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—

Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force. He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.

Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared. The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.

But then, your downfall. Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it. He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.

Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.

The whole thing is like coming home. You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is. Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you. Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else. His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it. It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough. The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way. His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet. You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck. You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.

“Where’s the baby?” You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.

“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling. Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now. It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps. “You lost, I caught you in time.”

“Did you?” You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you. Suddenly—

—Bong—

Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells…

…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.

There’s a moment. Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring. It’s not going to.

One o’clock.

You think he puts it together. The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago. The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic. Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together. He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work. Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.

But then Din moves so suddenly. You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side. You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.

Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl. The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber. He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that. Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside. You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up. It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.

Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise. Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.

But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that? First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you. It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.

You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.

“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you. Fuck, what is happening, what is happening? It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in. You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.

Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is. You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand. And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does. He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.

Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again. Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead. He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source. He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow? You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—

Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.” Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip. His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.

“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore. What does he want to see? You losing your mind again? Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?

Fucking… apparently. It’s what happens, after all. You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too. He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied. This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat. You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.

“I missed you, sweet girl. Did you miss me?” It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements. You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.

Did you just cum? You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now. The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak. If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak? You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.

When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.

“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out. He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him. It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder. He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—

Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation. It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it? That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally. Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder. That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.

This feels different from before, though. It’s deep, purposefully so. His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can. You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp. His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all. You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.

You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier. Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you. There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.

You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.

Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place. You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still. He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm. They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.

“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth. “Shh, tell me—”

“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”

“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”

“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”

You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds. Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough. You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

He kisses you to stop himself. But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that. Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light. It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever. He loves you. He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would. You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did. You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that. Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes. He loves you. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.

When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.

Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t. He loves you. You’re looking into his eyes right now. You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you. He loves you. Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—

The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.

You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat. Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—

Maker. You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before. You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face. A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you. You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.

Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again. Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight. Completely lovestruck.

How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him? You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see. His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees. It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.

Stars. He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met. Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you. Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away. For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.

Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.

“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips. “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”

You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second. He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw. Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own. “Some guy was wearing it.”

It takes you a second.

“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat. It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed. “What did you do to him? Where is he?”

He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long. He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence. He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.

“Ma—”

“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.

You don’t know which word to emphasize. A fucking closet? They’re? Plural? Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him. “They're in a closet.”

“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him. His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead. Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.” He kisses your neck so gently. “It was an accident.”

You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is. You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before. “Did they put up a fight?”

“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more. “You did.” Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again. “Did so good. Fought hard, outsmarted me. Pretty fucking girl.”

And then your eyes pop open as you feel it. His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it. He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?

“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful. Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it. Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second. You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but… “Mando, we can’t—”

His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper. Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time. It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.

“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips. “Not smart. Bad idea to fuck again.”

Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder. His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.

“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person. “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”

Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants. Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.

“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment. He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.

***

Commotion.

After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery. Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting. Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.

Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore. Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way. No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.

When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown. Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about. A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.

Hm. Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children. A mystery that may never be solved.

It makes you take a second. The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit. Of course. Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene. In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.

“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”

The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in. Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you. Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are? You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.

“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it. It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine. “It’s just…” Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond. “My… kid.”

Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit. “That is your child?”

You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you. All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return. What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.

“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms. “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip. “You making friends?”

He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging. He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet. No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?

“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes. “He’s… uh. Not great at sharing. We’ll work on it.”

Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing. Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.

Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side. They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond. Fuck, he’s a presence. An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse. Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone. Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.

You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything. Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.

Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded. And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning. He loves you, too. How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not. You love each other. You’re family.

So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.

“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him. “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”

It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you. Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears. Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye. You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.

Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh. A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh. Where the fuck did he go so quick? You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue. He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.

You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them. The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.

***

About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over. You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.

“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side. You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways. “I gave them the night off.��

“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.

“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any. “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”

Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought. “Wait. What do you mean you gave the robe back?”

He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet. “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”

If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement. You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.

“You fucked me wearing it, though.” Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.

“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator. Did he not even consider this?

“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him. You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him. “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then. You gave it. Back.”

Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time. You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact. You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.

Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.

You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle. Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.

The crib—he forgot the crib—

“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board. Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice. He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky. It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look. He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing. It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.

You raise your voice. “Din?!”

“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.

“What about the crib?” You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.

“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily. Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them. You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.

Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.

Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you. His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.

What’s he doing? He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.

Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.

“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”

Okay, well. You could just about fucking cry.

“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him. He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day. “It ain’t fresh. Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”

The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy. He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him. He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well. Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.

You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.

“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him. It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush. Big man, makes me happy. Strong man, loves me, knows me. Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.

Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm. You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you. When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.

“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.

“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once. “It has to cool down.”

He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him. Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave. He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.

So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits. Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it. For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be. You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.

“Well, do you wanna just…” You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors. “Shop around for a bit?”

“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic. Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.

“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction. Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore. “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”

From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner. Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights. It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense. Muted, softer, more romantic.

“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything. You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here. “That stale caf was the last of it.”

Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.

“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his. “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”

So that’s what you do. Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him. At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too. There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.

You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner. The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his. You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky. He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less. You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.

You think he might shower? You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest. It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.

Home.

***

@followwhereshegoes Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #smut #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

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daenqyu · 3 years

Text

— they accidentally confess to their crush

includes: shinsou, bakugou, midoriya, todoroki and hawks

warnings: swearing

a/n: thank you for requesting <3 i love this idea! it’s so cute🥺 also, hawks’ may be a little longer than the others because it’s my first time writing for him and i got a bit excited👉🏼👈🏼

ps: i don’t mind writing for hawks if it’s a headcannon and/or texts! so feel free to request him :D and yes, this is a repoost because the algorithm hates me.

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @tetsuruo )

shinsou hitoshi:

it would happen so randomly and out of the blue

as i said before, i think shinsou is a really reserved and quiet type of guy

but that seems to vanish whenever he’s around you

he’s more talkative and constantly goes out with you so you guys can have some quality time together

you also make him really nervous

he’s pretty chill with everyone and seems to not give a fuck about most things

but with you?

that’s a whole different story

whenever you keep your gaze stuck on him when he’s talking and his eyes meet yours, his heart never fails to do backflips because fuck you’re so cute

(oh to have shinsou think i’m cute D:)

ok back to the actual hc,,,

you two were hanging out in your room, listening to music and just talking

even tho your best friends, shinsou never really tells you much about his personal life

of course you know the basics like his hobbies and all his favorite things

but he never talks to you about...crushes or anything

and you don’t like that because :( friends are supposed to tell each other this stuff, right?

it’s fun and makes the bond even stronger

so you decide to ask him because why not?

“hey shinsou?”

he’s sitting down next to you on your bed, your legs draped over his

which makes him feel all warm inside

it’s stupid and definitely not a big deal,

but it’s little things like this that make him fall more and more for you

“yes?”

“do you have a crush?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him in a teasing way, although he’s not even looking your way

a part of you is nervous to hear his response

because unbeknownst to shinsou, you reallyyy like him

and have been crushing on him for quite some time now, but since you’re so sure the feelings are one sided, you don’t tell him

he’s too invested on the game he’s playing on your switch, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he concentrates

so he almost misses your question

and when he does answer, he’s not even paying attention to the words that leave his mouth

“apart from you? no”

it takes him a good minute to process what he said

meanwhile you’re sitting there like :o

you certainly weren’t expecting THAT

like it’s a good thing!!!! but you’re kinda flustered

especially when shinsou finally looks up at you, eyes widened in surprise at his own bluntness as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not knowing what to say now

“wait! i didn’t mean it like that!”

“you didn’t?”

he notices the slight pain in your voice and the way you move away from him slowly and he’s quick to apologize

“shit, okay...yes i like you but i didn’t say anything because i don’t want to make things weird between us or ruin what we have right now”

he’s looking everywhere but you

because he doesn’t exactly want to face you when you reject him

but you don’t ???

instead you giggle and before he can ask you what’s so funny, you climb on his lap to hug him, causing him to blush furiously

“i like you too, toshi”

the nickname makes him hug you even tighter while he hides his face on your neck

it was such a cute confession and even when you two start going out, you never stop bringing it up

which makes shinsou extremely embarrassed

“hey remember when you confessed and-”

“y/n, we’ve talked about this”

“oh come on! you were so adorable”

he pouts at you

“were?”

people think he looks so scary but he’s actually a whole ass baby

you roll your eyes before leaning down to give him a sweet kiss,

“you’re such a baby”

“hm, your baby”

“oh my god you did not”

yeah no, he’s in love with you👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @bakugousmyboy )

bakugou katsuki:

i feel like it would be pretty difficult to have bakugou accidentally confess directly to you

he knows how to control himself and his emotions so i doubt he’d actually ever do something like this

however,

he’s not that good at hiding his crush on you and mostly everyone on class 1A knows the boy is an absolute sucker for you

except you because apparently you think he’s just being nice

and everyone else is like wtf????

like he’s ALWAYS screaming at everyone

but when it’s you he doesn’t

in fact, sometimes he even lowers his voice so it won’t bother you

so that behavior is the one that caused him to be stuck in the situation he is right now

he sat in the common room with kirishima and kaminari, trying to eat his food in peace but the two idiots, as he likes to call them, wouldn’t shut up

he had completely blocked out both of their voices, focusing on finishing his meal and getting the hell away from them

until he heard your name being mentioned

“dude when are you gonna ask y/n out? everyone knows how much you like her so might as well you know,” kirishima bumps his shoulder against the blonde, only to receive a glare. “get some action”

“yeah bakubro, she’s super cute too” kaminari buts in and bakugou is about to punch them both in the face

“shut the fuck up. i don’t like her” bakugou scoffs

“but you’re such a softie for her”

“huh?! i treat her the same as i treat all of you extras!” oh but he knows he’s lying, you can’t even compare to any of your annoying classmates

kirishima smirks, “i’m pretty sure you’ve never once, raised your voice at her”

“so? that doesn’t mean shit”

kaminari looks at kirishima and the redhead nods at him, giving him the green light

“well since you don’t like her, you wouldn’t mind if i ask her out? because i’ve been wanting to-” kaminari can’t even finish his sentence before bakugou grabs him by the collar of his shirt

kaminari yelps, looking over at his other friend for help but he moves his head quickly, knowing better than to get involved

“you try and make a move on her and i swear to God i’ll blast you all the way across japan, dunce face”

bakugou’s voice is threatening and low, and kaminari knows he means every word so he quickly raises his arms in defeat and nods his head

“okay, okay! i swear i won’t”

little do they know that you’ve been standing behind them for a while now

you’re happy to know your feelings are reciprocated

but of course you want to tease bakugou about it

“hm did my ears deceive me or does boom boom boy have a crush on me?”

kirishima and kaminari take that as their cue to run away to their rooms, leaving you two alone

“tch, how long have you been standing there?” even as he glares you down, he can’t hide the blush on his cheeks

he didn’t want you to find out this way

or at all tbh

you walk over to him, a wide smile on your lips

“long enough”

afterwards you ask him if he wants to go watch a movie with you the next day and he’s lowkey mad because he wanted to ask you on a date first, but he doesn’t say no

you end up having way more fun than expected and you actually confirmed that bakugou was a softie for you

(turns out you were the last one to find out because literally everyone else knew)

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

midoriya izuku:

OKAY HE’D BE THE MOST FLUSTERED OUT OF ALL OF THEM

he can barely function around girls in general so like, what does that tell you?

he likes you so much but he’s so scared

but he’s also so sweet to you even before you start dating oml

midoriya is a sweetheart, we all know this

and he pays so much attention to you

like if you are the mall one day and you see something you really like but can’t buy it for whatever reason well…

a few days later he gets it for you

he would say something along the lines of, “you seemed to really like it so i got it for you”

“you didn’t have to, izuku!”

“but i wanted to”

you’ll try to pay him back in some sort of way but he absolutely refuses

he loves pampering you

yet whenever you try to do the same he doesn’t let you and it’s: ✨annoying✨

anyways,

you were supposed to go to the movies

but midoriya had forgotten he had some homework to do, which was due the next day

“i’m so sorry y/n! i completely forgot, but i promise i’ll finish quickly” he tried to reassure you and you chuckle at the boy, so cute

“it’s okay, izuku. i don’t mind waiting”

you lay down on his bed, trying your best to keep your eyes open

but as much as you tried, you eventually fell asleep against the soft sheets, your best friend’s bed being just too comfortable

midoriya sat on his desk chair, writing down the answers as fast as he could so you guys could go watch the movie you were so excited about

he let out a sigh of relief when he finished, before taking his phone out to check the time

6:37PM, the movie starts at 7PM so we still have time

he stood up to tell you he had finished, but was met with your sleeping figure

your eyes were closed and soft snores left your slightly parted lips, hands gripping his sheets to your chest

the curly haired boy almost combusted at the sight

you looked so peaceful, so pretty

a smile grazed his lips as he made his way over to the bed

he sat down beside you, quietly admiring your features

feeling the mattress dip thanks to his weight, you began to wake up, but quickly shut your eyes when you noticed midoriya was looking at you

truth be told, you just wanted to scare him by suddenly jumping

but his next words made your breath hitch

one of his hands moved up to your face, resting it gently against your cheek as his thumb massaged the skin

your heartbeat was out of control and you forced yourself to calm your breathing so he wouldn’t notice you were awake

his touch was so gentle and sweet, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away

“i wish i could tell you how beautiful you are” he whispered and if you hadn’t been so close to him, you probably wouldn’t have heard him

after hearing him say that you couldn’t stay still

you opened your eyes, a smile quickly spreading across your features as you turned around to face the green haired boy

midoriya almost had a heart attack when you moved, hoping you hadn’t heard him

but based on the mischievous grin you wore, he knew you had

“well you just did”

“y-you were awake?!”

“yup, i’m glad i was tho”

hE’S INTERNALLY SCREAMING

your gaze is flirtatious and you’re still grinning and he’s just >_<

“now let’s go or we’ll be late!”

midoriya can only nod before following you outside

once you’re on your way to the movie theater, you notice midoriya fidgeting with his fingers, his eyes glued to his shoes

you smile as you suddenly take his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers together

midoriya looks at you with a nervous expression, what is she doing?

“you know, you’re beautiful too”

you were looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes and he felt so embarrassed yet excited at the same time

because holy fuck you just called him beautiful AND held his hand???

he thinks it can’t get any better than this

and then it does when you kiss him a few weeks later😳🤚🏼

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @ambershaydeoffical )

todoroki shouto:

like bakugou, i don’t really think he’d be clumsy enough to accidentally confess

however, he does like to speak his mind and isn’t afraid to do so

he’s just really honest and blunt

way too honest

which gets him in trouble sometimes but oh well, that’s just the way he is and everyone is pretty used to his personality by now

though, after figuring out he liked you as more than a friend, he started to think more before talking

sometimes you liked to get his opinion on your outfits and/or hairstyles

so you’d drag him to you room and force him to be honest and tell you which one he liked most

it doesn’t matter what you wear, you always look beautiful

he wants to say that, but instead he goes:

“they all look good, i think the purple shirt really fits you tho”

“i was thinking the same thing!”

he doesn’t want to scare you off or make things weird

so he forces himself to hold back on his bluntness

at least when he’s with you

but one day he just can’t help himself

you were on your way back to the dorms after a tiring day at school

todoroki walked next to you, eyes glancing over to you from time to time so you knew he was listening\

you were currently rambling about how shitty your love life was

claiming that there must be something wrong with you since no one seemed to pay attention to you- at least romantically

“i mean seriously, am i doing something wrong or is everyone i’ve met just not for me??”

you had your cheeks puffed out, a pout on your lips as you kicked the small rocks on the floor

todoroki smiled softly at your complaints, thinking irony could be quite funny sometimes

until you spoke up again,

“maybe i’m just too ugly or boring, that’d make more sense”

todoroki almost stops dead in his tracks to see if you have a fever

how could you say that????

you’re so gorgeous to todoroki, and interesting

you’re probably the first girl he’s ever liked this much in his life

and you have the audacity to doubt your worth just because other people can’t seem to appreciate you??

uh uh, he’s not having it

and so, the words come out before he can even register them properly

“if you were as ugly as you say are then, i don’t think i’d like you as much as i do”

your eyes widened and you stopped walking, wondering if you had heard him right

todoroki stops walking too, and once he realizes what happened, he’s looking away, trying to come up with a valid excuse as to why he said that

you, however, can’t stop staring at him

finding the way he glares at the ground adorable

a sense of happiness takes over your whole body when he doesn’t say anything to deny his sudden confession

because he cannot lie to you

you walk towards todoroki until you’re standing right in front of him and before he can even question what you’re doing, you plant a sweet kiss against his cheek

“good thing the feeling is mutual”

your words make him smile and he looks so happy

probably the happiest he’s ever been

and you feel proud of being the one responsible for that pretty smile of his

neither of you really rush into making things official

but the way todoroki lets you cuddle on his left side whenever you’re cold or how he waits for you every morning so you can walk together to class makes it more than clear that he really likes you

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

takami keigo (hawks)

he’d be the type to not give a fuck about it

like he already confessed so what can he do?

nothing. exactly

he’s so cocky and flirty the whole time oml

he’d be shocked for a few seconds, but after seeing you were way more flustered than him, he’d just start teasing you

in a loving way of course

he’s also surprised you hadn’t noticed earlier on, considered how much he flirts with you, but then again, that’s part of his personality so

kinda makes sense you didn’t suspect anything

but he’s so cute and soft for you 🥺

okok so it happened the same day you got your results for your midterms

(you’re a college student here lol)

you had studied your ass off for this tests

staying up until 4AM and having to ditch your friends when they invited you to go out

so you were really positive

you squealed when your teacher hands you back the papers and you see the grade on the right corner

you felt happy to know that all your hard work wasn't in vain

the nerves you had been feeling since the day you took the midterms quickly vanished and were replaced with the feeling of pride

as you walked out of the building, you dialed the person who you wanted to share the news most with

he picked up after the second ring

“what’s up?” his voice was raspy and you ignored the butterflies that appeared in your stomach at the sound

“hey, i have great news!”

“care to elaborate?”

“you’ll find out when i get to your house”

“oh? and who said you could come over?” his tone is teasing and you can practically hear the smirk on his face, which makes you roll your eyes

“i did, now bye. i’ll be there in five minutes and order some pizza to celebrate” you don’t even get hear his complaints because you’ve already hung up

anyone who saw the way you two acted with each other would automatically think you guys were a couple

you were rather affectionate with each other; occasionally holding hands while you walked down the streets and even calling each other by your first names

that was just the bond you two had, and you loved it

he brought you so much comfort

it was almost ridiculous the way he was able to make you smile by simply calling or texting you

you had grown quite attached to the number 2 hero, but you constantly told yourself you needed to snap out of it

because you were friends

nothing more and nothing less

oh but how you wished there was more to your relationship than just that

you shook your head, as if that could help you get rid of the thoughts

true to your word, you soon found yourself outside of keigo’s house

the college you went to wasn’t that far away from there so

you pushed the doorbell and waited around two minutes before a sleepy looking keigo opened the door

his hair was messy and the way he rubbed his eyes and kept yawning let you know he probably had been taking a nap

you scoff, “were you sleeping?” you ask him as you walk into his home, smiling at the familiar scent

he chuckles from behind you, following you into his living room, “maybe, but you woke me up”

“can’t believe your lazy ass earned the number two spot”

“what can i say? it’s a talent,” he shrugs before sitting down next to you on the couch, resting his face on his hand. “so, what’s the good news?”

“so you know i took my midterms last friday, right?” keigo nods. “well, i got my results today” he raises his eyebrows in surprise and waits as you look for the papers inside your bag

once you get them out, you place them in front of your face so he can see for himself

keigo smiles proudly and it only widens when you look up at him expectantly, biting your lower lip

“holy fuck, that’s amazing! you did so good dove”

the nickname makes you weak on the knees but you’re quick to brush it off

you should be used to it, since keigo has been calling you that for quite some time now, yet it never fails to make your heart beat insanely fast

you nod excitedly and put the papers down before you start talking about your experience

keigo can’t help but admire you

you look so happy and cute

it makes him want to kiss you

he wants to shut you up by kissing you, and it sound mean and disrespectful but you just look so gorgeous 😡

and instead of randomly kissing you, he blurts out a confession

“math was probably the hardest but i managed to pass it too, surprisingly, so i-”

he doesn’t even know what you’re talking about anymore, too focused on your smile

“God i like you so much”

you shut up instantly

did you hear that right?

or was your mind playing tricks on you?

keigo looks away momentarily, before locking eyes with you and tilting his head to the side, waiting for a reaction

which he gets soon after because you can’t handle the way he’s looking at you

you look away, hiding your face the best you can

“w-what did you say?”

he smirks after hearing the stutter in your voice

he gets closer to you, until he’s right in front of your face, before saying:

“i like you, y/n”

you don’t know what to say

what are you even supposed to do???

keigo just confessed

your best friend and crush just confessed to you

that’s not something that happens everyday

“i um, like you too” you don’t look at him and he almost chuckles at your shy expression, but decides not to embarrass you any further

“happy to hear that”

he doesn’t say anything for a while and you wonder what the hell is going through his head right

he’s probably just messing with me. oh my God he probably is and i just said i liked him too so what-

your train of thought is cut off when you feel the blonde ruffle your hair while looking at you lovingly

you slowly look up to him

“i’m proud of you, dove”

fuck

“t-thanks”

“now, i think this is something worth celebrating and i’m not talking about pizza. so let me take you out”

“it’s fine, keigo. you don’t need to-”

“can’t hear you, give me about fifteen minutes and then we’ll get going”

you try to tell him no, that it’s fine and you can just eat pizza but he ignores you and still takes you out to eat

i’ll say it again: he’s so sweet :(((

he pays for the food and gives you his jacket when you get cold

he even treats you to some dessert !!

he also kisses you good night when he drops you off at your house <3

7K notes · View notes

seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Inescapable

Part 2 of Always - another soulmate au with extra angst!

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Miya Atsumu x female reader

TW toxic relationships, implied abuse, blind reader

“Stay here,” he murmurs, soft lips brushing briefly against your cheek before you feel his warmth retreat.

It’s an effort to quell the fleeting panic that rises in his absence. Japan is your home – was your home – but Tokyo… You’re not supposed to be in the village. Only the athletes, trainers and the support crew for the national team were supposed to stay there. It kept out distractions, made it easier for security, gave the athletes the space to focus on what they’re there for; to compete. To win.

You don’t know how he did it, what strings he had to pull, but somehow he’d managed.

A room for the two of you. Just the two of you.

“You’re staying with me,” he’d told you when you’d brought up the possibility of going home to Miyagi to visit your family, or even spend a few days with Makki and Mattsun. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

The words had been whispered, a soft, teasing purr as lips curled into a smirk at your neck, but you know what he’s like when he’s competing. The focus and obsession he’ll throw himself into.

Especially when you both know who he’ll be competing against.

Nevertheless, you’re here. Alone now, standing in a sea of strangers talking too loud in a cacophony of foreign tongues while Tooru left to go find his team–

Strong, familiar arms encircle your waist, a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

– but only for a moment.

“C’mon, cutie. Let’s get going – Coach gave us twenty before he wants us at the gym.”

—

You know one or two of the players on the national team from San Juan. They’re friendly enough, and they’ll stop and chat with you on the odd nights you venture out into the cafeterias dotted around the village for dinner. But for the most part they’re focused on other things and Tooru–

Tooru’s possessive enough of your attention at the best of times.

Which means that you’re either with him, tucked carefully under his arm as he guides you around the village, or you’re stuck in the room, bored out of your mind waiting for him to come home to you. And for lack of anything better to do, you have the games playing on the TV.

Just for the sound of your mother tongue filling the room around you. Just so you won’t be alone with your thoughts for too long.

It’s different, back home in San Juan. But you understand it – why he brought you.

“Where I go, you go, always.”

“Always.”

And the loneliness is worth it, you think, when he sinks down into the mattress beside you after a long day’s training and pulls you close, nuzzling into your side. This is better than being left behind. You’re here to support the man you love. Your soulmate, the name on your arm be damned.

His good luck charm, he hums, kissing you in the early hours of the morning before slipping away.

But even you can’t just sit around the apartment all day long. It’s good to stretch your legs, even when you’re in strange, unfamiliar territory. You tell yourself that what Tooru doesn’t know won’t hurt him, forgetting just for one blissful moment that your soulmate and his team are not the only ones who might catch you wandering.

Of course, that realisation doesn’t sink in until broad shoulders suddenly barrel past you, knocking you off your feet. And you would have fallen, awkwardly probably, had a pair of strong, lean arms not caught at your waist, steadying you.

“Jeeze, Bokkun! Watch where yer goin’, wouldja!”

The first voice, the thick, drawling Kansai dialect isn’t familiar, but the voice that follows is impossible to misplace.

“Thought I told you two–”

It cuts off abruptly, and in some distant part of your brain you register that the stranger’s still holding you, the warmth of his hand still braced on your hip, but all you can really focus on is the owner of that second voice.

“Iwa?”

Tooru had told you he’d be here, Hinata too and Kageyama. And of course Ushijima, but you’d assumed that – at least up until they played against one another or team Japan got knocked out of the running – they’d be busy and you wouldn’t cross paths.

There’s a surprised intake of air from your left – ‘Bokkun’, you imagine – and he asks, “Wait, you know her, dude?”

And still, the warm body holding you doesn’t move an inch. Not until a familiar, irritated huff sounds, “Get your hands off her, dumbass.”

The body behind you tenses for a split second before obeying, hands ripping themselves away from you as if he’d been scalded. “Shit, sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” you murmur with what you hope is a polite smile, only half paying attention because you can hear Iwa striding towards you. In one breath, he’s knocking back your saviour and pulling you into a one armed hug.

“Shittykawa said he’d be bringing you,” he says quietly as you squeeze him back. It’s been such a long time since you’ve been face to face with him. Tooru calls him to catch up most weeks, more often than putting him on speaker so that you can say hi, but it’s not the same. “Didn’t think he meant to the actual village, though.”

You’ve missed him, you realise. Him and Makki and Mattsun, and suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, emotions welling that you can’t name. There’s so much you want to say to him, things he knows but should be said anyway, but–

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your pretty friend, Iwa?”

Your cheeks heat as the two of you part, yet it’s Iwa who answers for the both of you.

“No. You two need to get your asses moving,” he says. “Back to the gym, now. Unless you wanna stay back after everyone else finishes up to run extra drills?”

It’s a clear dismissal, and the two only pause for a heartbeat before grumbling their assent – and one sheepish apology – and heading off to continue their run.

“Let me walk you back.”

Some things never change, you suppose. “Iwa, you have an Olympic team to train,” you tell him with a wry grin. ”I’m not going to risk being accused of sabotaging the Japanese national volleyball team just because you feel the need to be gentlemanly.”

It’s clearly meant as a tease, but instead of the good-natured huff you’re expecting, he sighs. “C’mon. You almost got knocked on your ass, let me walk you back.”

It’s not a suggestion, and as he takes you by the hand and starts leading you back the way you came you’re reminded of high school - he used to do exactly same thing any timeTooru wasn’t around. There’s a slight flicker of irritation at your first breath of fresh air without Oikawa’s overprotective hovering being snatched away, but you know he means well.

He always does.

So you shove those feelings down and offer him a smile. “You know I’m stupidly proud of you, right?” you tell him. “Both of you.”

And something in Iwa relaxes and he laughs, “Yeah well I’m just glad you’re gonna be here to witness me wipe the floor with Shittykawa’s ass.”

—

It’s late, and Tooru isn’t back yet.

And it wouldn’t bother you except that lunch had been hours ago, and your stomach is starting to growl, hunger settling in.

Tooru works hard, he pushes himself and stays late when he should be home resting, you know that, but even if you did want to go and find him, pull him back so that he won’t push past his limits days out from competing, you wouldn’t have a clue where to find him – not in this sprawling maze of a complex.

What else can you do but wait, as fifteen minutes turns into half an hour, then an hour, and suddenly it’s almost nine.

He won’t be happy that you’ve left without him, but either he’ll meet you at the cafeteria, or you’ll get home before he’s back and you’ll have dinner waiting for him. At this time of the night it’s likely to be empty anyway, it’s not like you’re running off in the middle of the dinner rush.

Most of the athletes’ll be back in their rooms, you’re not gonna get knocked around in the mad scramble for food, nobody’s going to pay you any mind.

But once again, you’re proven wrong.

It’s not quite the roaring din that you’ve come to associate with the dining hall, but you can hear a few quiet conversations scattered throughout the room. At least none of them pay you any heed as you slowly wander the buffet, shyly asking one of the servers to help you pick out something for you and Tooru both.

It’s not until you move to take a seat, hoping that Tooru will get there before you have to try and cart his dinner back to the room that you hear the unmistakable scraping of a chair being dragged back beside you.

“Ya know, Iwaizumi never did end up telling us yer name,” a familiar voice states, settling down into the seat. “He did end up making me ‘n Bokuto run extra laps as punishment for knockin’ into ya, though.”

Out of habit, your fingers fiddle with the sleeve of your jacket – Tooru’s actually – warmth flooding your cheeks. He doesn’t sound pissed off by the fact, and you suppose he probably wouldn’t have sat down beside you if all he wanted was to pick a fight.

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” It comes out sounding more like a question than anything else.

He laughs at that, the sound surprisingly warm and pleasant. “Nah, not your fault. Iwa’s a hardass at the best of times.”

“Sounds like he hasn’t changed much since high school,” you muse.

Oikawa might’ve been Captain back then, but that never stopped Iwa from slapping him upside of the head whenever he did something particularly stupid. He was a hard ass, but he was also incredible at keeping the rest of the team in line and motivated, and he kept Tooru grounded. He kept you grounded. Aggressive, tough love was simply a part of that.

You wonder distantly if his new team realizes just how lucky they are to have somebody like him in their corner.

“High school? Ya knew him back then?” he prods.

He’s a stranger. Not just a competitor, but ‘The Enemy’ just like Kageyama and Ushiwaka. Out of all the teams that Tooru might go up against during the games, you know that they’re the ones he’s most determined to defeat. And you don’t necessarily buy into the whole ‘destined rivals’ thing – Kageyama was never anything but polite to you, but you know you’re supposed to back your soulmate up on this. You know he’d be pissed to find you casually chatting away with any one of them, except maybe Hinata.

Maybe.

But it’s nice just to indulge in a conversation – even meaningless small talk – with somebody who doesn’t know you as Tooru’s. You can’t help but relax a little, the tension easing from your shoulders, a small smile creeping across your face.

“I’ve known Iwa since I was six years old. He’s one of my best friends.”

The man hums a little, his chair creaking as he leans back, “Really? He’s never mentioned ya.”

And it’s clear from the sharp intake of his breath that he regrets the words the moment they’re said, but instead of feeling offended, you simply laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it.

“It’s fine,” you say when he tries to backtrack. “Do you often have deep and meaningful’s with Iwa about his childhood friends?”

He snorts, “Yeah, point taken, I guess. So how come yer here then? Didn’t think they allowed cheerleaders in the village, even the cute ones.”

Something flutters in your stomach at his tone; it’s warm like honey, just a hint of teasing. He’s flirting, you realise, and in an instant you know you should shut it down. Harmless small talk is one thing, but you’re–

You have your soulmate.

“What makes you think I’m not staff?” you ask instead.

“No uniform,” he counters, and you can’t argue with that. It’s not your fault that you can’t see what everybody’s wandering around wearing. “And you don’t really strike me as the ‘athlete’ type, no offense.”

You don’t really know how to respond to that, so you just shrug somewhat self consciously. He’s not wrong; you don’t really belong here, but you find yourself reluctant to tell him the truth.

The only reason you’re here is because Tooru cheated the system, because he couldn’t bear to be without you.

Or maybe because he knows how much of a mess you are without him. Blind and helpless without him to guide you, even here, back in the country you’d both left behind all those years ago.

“I’m here to support my soulmate,” you tell him instead, and it’s not entirely a lie. No matter what, you’ll always support Oikawa – here, back home, to whatever ends. That was the promise you’d made to each other long before you’d ever left Japan.

There’s a short pause, and you take the opportunity to turn back to the plate of food in front of you – you’d forgotten about it entirely. You half expect that he’ll take it as the perfect opportunity to politely bow out of the conversation.

You might’ve been blind, but you’re not naive; you know exactly what athletes get up to after the sun goes down in the village. There’s a reason that your welcome packs were stuffed full of free condoms.

And you’re not interested in that. You have Tooru and he has you. If that’s all that this guy is after; some quick, meaningless fuck, then–

“Volleyball?” he asks, and you almost roll your eyes.

He’s not wrong, of course he’s not, and you suppose considering your connection with Iwa it makes sense that he’d make that leap, but still. One track mind, all of them.

“If I tell you, you might not like me very much,” you say in lieu of an answer.

He leans closer, the chair creaking once more. “So I’m right.” He sounds so smug about it, you almost wanna tell him he’s wrong just to mess with him a little. “What position does he play?”

Not what team, what position. That, more than anything else, mattered to him – and again, you understood it. The pride players took in their position within the machine.

“You first,” you shoot back instead, because you feel like you have a sneaking suspicion.

And with a little huffing laugh, he confirms it, “Setter.”

Of course.

And the smile on your face tugs wider, a strange trill running through you, “Ah, and here I thought Kageyama,” you draw the name out, “was Japan’s starting setter.”

He scoffs, dragged in by your teasing jab, “Yer kiddin’, right? Tobio’s talented an’ all, but he ain’t half the setter I am.”

Cocky and smug. You wonder if he has the skills to back it up. Yet just as you open your mouth to pry further, you’re interrupted by a voice.

Several actually.

“Talking shit again, Miya?”

“Who’s she?”

“Oh hey – Iwa’s friend!”

And your heart skips a beat, your body tensing as those voices close in, more chairs being pulled out, trays of food dumped on the table as his teammates settle down around you. It’s just a name, one name. It doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t–

“Atsumu, why don’t you shut– oh. Y/N, hey. Didn’t realise you'd be here. Isn’t the village restricted to athletes only?”

Kageyama’s blunt greeting isn’t intended to be antagonistic, but it washes over you regardless. You’re frozen, heart pounding, a sick, twisting feeling settling into your gut.

Atsumu, he’d said.

Miya Atsumu.

Two words, and your world stops spinning.

You’d promised him – Tooru – years ago that the name on your arm didn’t mean anything. It was all just a cruel cosmic mistake because from the moment you met him, you were his, and he was yours and nothing else mattered.

And you’d told yourself that, repeated it like a mantra until you started to believe it yourself. Because Tooru loved you, you were his soulmate and what kind of horrible fucking person would you be to take that gift, that bond and shove it back in his face.

Tooru isn’t perfect, and he’d freaked out and lied to you, but he’s your soulmate.

The name on your arm didn’t matter, it didn’t matter that you didn’t know whose it was, because you had Tooru. It should have been his.

And you told yourself that for six months, until some blowout fight had Tooru storming out, you following in his footsteps.

It was a stranger, some random passerby in the street. You can’t remember what prompted you to stop her and ask, why it suddenly mattered when Tooru had all but convinced you that it didn’t, but you had.

Miya Atsumu. The pronunciation had been unsure, her tongue clunky over the foreign syllables, but in that moment when you’d heard his name every lie you’d convinced yourself of had fallen apart.

It was like you’d been drowning without ever realising it, and the second you’d heard that name a hand was dragging you up to the surface and suddenly air was flooding your lungs.

Miya Atsumu.

There are voices surrounding you, somebody laughing uproariously, but it’s all just white noise.

“Y/N,” a choked, hoarse whisper that shouldn’t have been heard, but it pierces you like a knife, cutting through everything else. It’s too much.

On shaking legs you stand, knocking your chair back as you grab for your cane.

The name hadn’t mattered, until you’d heard it. He hadn’t mattered, until he was standing right there in front of you.

“I– I have to go,” you mutter, not entirely sure if they heard you, or if they even cared. You leave your food untouched on the table, stumbling as you step back.

And again, you hear that whisper of your name. There’s a hand that reaches for you – his or somebody else’s you don’t know, you shrug it off regardless. “I have to go.”

Nobody stops you as you skitter back towards the entrance, but for once the cafeteria is silent. The moment you burst out through the double doors, the brisk, summer night air hits you like a slap, and you don't realise that your cheeks are wet with tears until the breeze cuts through, the damp skin prickling uncomfortably.

And the sob that follows rips through your chest like a knife.

This isn’t what you wanted.

If there’s a god out there, he must have a cruel sense of humour, because your name is being called again, and suddenly there’s a hand on your cheek brushing at your tears, an arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Cutie, what’s wrong?”

The scent of him, all citrus and summer, invades your nose as you clutch at him tighter. You can’t speak, can’t find the words to tell him, so you just squeeze your eyes shut and burrow into him.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeats, not asking this time.

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I want to go home,” you whisper, clutching at his jersey. “I wanna go home, Tooru.”

A kiss brushes against the crown of your head, and you almost miss the sound of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind you – at least until the interloper speaks.

“You–” Atsumu breaks off, his breath ragged and raw, and you don’t miss the way that Oikawa stiffens, his grip tightening, fingers digging in. “Yer my soulmate.”

Three simple words, and everything, everything just falls apart.

Tooru snarls, taking a step back and dragging you with him. “She’s not your anything, Miya. Fuck off.”

“You can’t leave me! You can’t - you’re mine!”

It hurts, the grip he has on you. He’s trembling, from rage or fear you honestly don’t know, but you can feel his heart pounding a vicious beat as his arms lock around you like a cage.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s my goddamn name on her arm. Let ‘er go, yer hurting her,” he snaps.

“She’s my soulmate, so mind your own business and run off back home.”

You can’t breathe.

“Not when yer hurting her.”

It’s like the floor’s suddenly disappeared from beneath you, and you’re in free fall, hurtling back towards god knows what. Your head’s spinning, your legs feel like jelly, and if Tooru wasn’t holding you up against him, you’re not sure you’d still be standing.

You can’t breathe.

“Leave, right now,” he hisses. “She’s mine. She always has been, and always will be mine!”

You’d promised him that much, hadn’t you?

“Ya don’t scare me, and I don’t give a flying fuck if yer wearing her name on your arm. That’s my soulmate, and you’ll take yer fucking hands off ‘a her.”

You can’t breathe, not as the shouting gets louder and Tooru’s grip gets tighter.

He takes another step back, pulling you with him, and another hiccuping sob catches in your throat. You try to speak, to stop this before it gets any worse, but the words won’t come–

“You’re hurting her!”

“I LOVE HER!” he screams. “I would never, ever hurt her!”

“T–Tooru, please…” you beg. It’s little more than a whisper, and neither one of them seems to hear it.

But somebody else does.

“Hey, hey! What the fuck are you dumbasses doing?!”

Iwa, always your second protector, your best and oldest friend, wastes no time in getting between the two of them, shoving Miya back.

“What is wrong with you both?!” he snaps, grabbing you by the wrist and ripping you from Oikawa. And you don’t fight it when he tugs you towards him, a protective arm wrapping around your waist.

You cling to him, like a scared child with tears streaming down your face.

“Iwa–”

“No, shut up. I don’t wanna hear a single word out of either one of you! Not a goddamn word!”

He doesn’t bother berating them in front of you, though you know that’ll come later. He doesn’t say anything to you either, but his hand doesn’t leave yours all the way back to his apartment. Not the one in the village, but the one just outside of the city.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you ask quietly when he drops his keys on the counter.

There’s a beat of silence, and he sighs. “Yeah, I knew.”

It’s hanging in the air between you, like a dark, stormy cloud about to unleash. “Iwa,” you whisper, your bottom lip trembling once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, as honestly as he can. “But you’re gonna stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll call Makki and Mattsun and they’ll come and take you back to Sendai for a little while if that’s what you want. You don’t have to see either one of those assholes, not until…”

Not until you figure out how you’re supposed to make this impossible choice.

He squeezes your shoulder as you sniffle. “It’s gonna be alright, whatever you decide to do.”

Neither one of you truly believes that, but what’s left to say?

He hugs you again before he leaves, makes you promise to call if you need him, but you both know you won’t.

Not tonight, not when he has other priorities.

And then you’re alone, sitting on his couch surrounded by blankets with a mug of hot chocolate warming your hands. You know you should try to get some sleep, you’re exhausted, overwhelmed, but every time you close your eyes, you can’t stop thinking about it.

About the way Tooru’s voice had shook, how you’d smiled for Atsumu, that familiar warmth blooming in your chest when the two of you talked and you’d teased him.

And you remember how it was the day Tooru first told you that he loved you, the butterflies in your stomach the first time he’d kissed you, spinning you around and laughing as his lips met yours again and again and again.

How he’d yelled and screamed and fallen apart in your arms that night, begging you not to leave him.

You love him, for better or for worse, you love him.

A loud knock echoes through the apartment, shaking you from your thoughts.

It’s almost 2am, and nobody but Iwa knows you’re here. Nobody should be knocking, and so you sit, frozen in the dark listening as your heart hammers uneasily.

One beat, then two, and then–

“I know you’re in there, just– just please. I need… I need–” he breaks off with a frustrated huff, and there’s a low thud, like his head’s fallen against the door. “Please,” he begs, quieter this time.

There’s another thud.

“I need ya. Don’t lock me out, I’m beggin’.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere miya atsumu #yandere miya atsumu x reader #yandere atsumu #yandere oikawa #tw toxic behavior #tw implied abuse #blind reader

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h50europe · 3 years

Text

Why the myth about Steve's PTSD doesn't add up and other inconsistencies

In the last few episodes of H50, PL tried to sell us a mentally broken Steve suffering from PTSD. Only the whole thing came a bit too late. The clip you see is from season 4 and ended up - no, not in the series - but somewhere on the floor of PL's editing room. And why? after Kurtzman and Orci departed, along with their writers, PL took the helm and started turning Steve into a super-soldier. He stylized him into something that wasn't meant to be. Instead of developing the characters, PL began to incorporate more and more hair-raising action sequences into the series and then let Steve fight on the front lines. There was no mention of Steve's mental state, and a lot was explained by PL with: it just happened "offscreen." Yeah, sure. PL can't create a decent character. He can only produce stereotypes and one-dimensional beings. Like Adam. What potential would that character have had had he been turned into Five-0's antagonist? But no. So his role remained diffuse and monotonous. Sometimes even tragicomical.

Back to Steve. When SEAL Team started on CBS, PL also lapsed into SEAL mania. If someone who writes fanfiction were to produce as much garbage as this man did, he would be chased away from every writers' platform in disgrace. PL's Super SEAL also had to rescue his team members from a blazing inferno. Not man by man, no, he flew a helicopter right into the danger zone and lifted a whole cabin out of the burning jungle. If lunacy had a name, it would be PL. While the action became more and more exaggerated and unrealistic, the same happened to the protagonists. After the departure of Daniel Dae Kim and Grace Park, PL completely lost his mind. And please, don't blame the writers for the nonsense that was thrown at you. A series stands and falls with the showrunner. He dictates what he wants and passes it on to his staff.

And so, lovable Steve became a soulless robot who only showed feelings here and there. Danny diminished more and more into a sidekick. McDanno became a ship that drifted anchorless through a stormy sea and threatened to capsize again and again. From season 8, it became a reboot of the reboot. PL tried an ensemble show and failed more than miserably. Often the actors just stood around bored. At least that was the impression. The only highlight was episode 8.10. A feast for all McDanno fans. But even here, the outcome of "who shot Danny" was more than insubstantial.

Wait, there was something about SEALs... Oh, yes. Junior appeared on the scene and became Steve's lapdog. I really wondered when there was going to be an episode where he would fetch sticks for Steve. Luckily we had Eddie for that. And because he thought he was so clever, PL invented the episode speed dating. How many subplots can you squeeze into one episode at the same time? In some episodes, you couldn't even take a look at the bag of potato chips without losing the thread.

The case of the week became the yawn of the week. There were so many loose ends that PL then came up with something called retconning. That's what you do when you're no longer satisfied with what was once established in the series years ago, or it no longer fits. But PL went one step further and did the same with the characters. The more the series was dragged out, the more the characters deteriorated and became OOC. It means, often, they were not recognizable at all. And that's where we come to Steve. Because PL, in his desperation, didn't know what else he could do to Steve, and so he killed Joe White. He did it in such a cheesy way with a fake sunset that it made you sick.

Of course, one episode later, there had to be another gig of PL's favorite Barbie. He stuck a fake beard on poor Steve/Alex, so he couldn't even hug Danny/Scott properly. The episode also raised more questions than it answered any. And Steve? He still didn't suffer from PTSD, even though he had now lost Joe White and a fellow SEAL. Everyone is dropping like flies, except for Steve, who is standing like a rock. No matter what. He doesn't need in-depth talks with Danny, nor psychological care, nor any sleeping pills. No, he's doing great. He also opens a restaurant with Danny because apparently, the carguments are already getting on PL's nerves. Unfortunately, this plot device leads into nirvana. The idea was nice, but nobody thought it through to the end. And the merry-go-round continues. Until we get to season 10, where it gets even more absurd. Now PL is almost bombarding us with McDanno episodes, or at least it should seem that way. Oh well, he's already planning for season 11, so a new character has to come on board quickly. While in the beginning, Steve's mother, Doris, dies.

Alex was allowed to take on the subject. Of course, only under the strict eyes of PL. He then nullifies Alex's idea that Steve kills his mother. Because a good soldier and Super SEAL won't do that. Little does PL know. THAT could have been the opening of a PTSD scenario for Steve. However, apart from that, this episode would have had any potential for a multi-arc. Just imagine Steve chasing his mother across multiple episodes. Again, PL stepped in and butchered Alex's episode. You can really feel sorry for the guy. PL at his best or worse? He just can't help it. And then, on the very last meters of the series, he brings someone new, who is allowed to cruise around with Steve most of the time. Because Danny was kidnapped by Wo Fat's widow, PL also invented quite late to have some villain at his disposal. This wannabe mastermind must really have been living under a rock somewhere if she wasn't even mentioned by her husband or appeared earlier.

Because towards the end, PL obviously ran out not only of steam but also of ideas, everything culminated in a wildly illogical scenario. Steve has to live through a dramatic day with Eddie, who stands as a metaphor for Steve (as I said, PTSD was never a thing for Super SEAL), Danny bangs his brains out in a ladies' room with a complete stranger, who dies shortly after that in an accident with Danny's rental car. Apparently, there was no budget to turn the Camaro into scrap metal. Danny then also goes home alone, ignoring the incoming emergency vehicles. Everything remains open at the end of the episode. While Steve expresses his gratitude to Tani and Quinn and says, he would be just as lost as poor Eddie without the dog and all of them. The strange thing is that you never notice anything until that sentence. A few forced dialogues are supposed to make the drama visible, but they all happen way too late or are so poorly written that you miss them.

PL had decided early on to make Steve a Teflon hero. That also means he didn't need to put much substance into the character. Which you can clearly see if you compare the first three seasons to the rest of the series. But towards the end, PL wanted to turn the tide and forcefully rewrote Steve's past. There is a huge difference if you compare Steve from seasons 1 to 3 with Steve from season 10. It is only a sparse remnant of what made this character so great. This change in Steve's personality also affects his relationship with Danny. The witty, affectionate banter degenerates into a snappy, humorless bitch-fest that takes all the joy out of it.

The final two episodes could have been written for any other crime show. As mentioned, we have Cole, who even gets a book'em Cole from Steve, which can only be described as out of line. And it begs the question, was that what Lenkov originally had in mind? Danny out of the show and Cole in? Was the last episode, which mainly featured McCole, something of a test run? Did all the McDanno moments happen only to tear the two apart eventually? Was the real final scene the one where Steve and Catherine take Danny's coffin back to Jersey? Was Danny not supposed to survive? Was that the real reason Steve wanted to get out of Hawaii because he wanted to pay his respects to Danny? And would he really have returned to Hawaii later? Or would he have turned his back on Hawaii? To me, this ending is more plausible than what PL served us. Then, Steve handed over his credentials to Cole instead of Danny, his second in command. Honestly, you can't make the end of a series any more sloppy and dumber than that. And I won't even lose a word about the last 1:30 minutes because I think everything has already been said.

No PL, mission absolutely not accomplished. You created Teflon-Steve. You never wanted him to show any weakness. You turned him into a superhuman who can survive anything. Only to pull the rug out from under him on the last few meters to the finish line and spit on his legacy. How can you dismantle such a great series and its characters like you did? How much do you have to hate something to do that? In the final interviews, the showrunner didn't exactly cover himself in glory either. Everyone who grew up with the series from day one knows that its end was wrong on all the possible levels and that the showrunner is solely to blame for that. It takes a fair amount of egoism and carelessness to drive 10 years at full throttle against the wall. Not many people can do that. Whether you can be proud of that, however, I doubt.

My respect if you have made it this far. Each of you gets 10 extra brownie points for it.

#McDanno #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #scott caan #alex o'loughlin #H50 the final chapter #H50 series finale #Lenkov #Eddie #Junior #seal team

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tenthgrove · 3 years

Note

Yandere Bruno squad headcanons perhaps :0?

Yandere Team Buccelati

Content Warnings: Yandere behaviour, stalking, abduction

A/N: Apologies, but I've decided that I'm not really comfortable writing under 18s as yandere characters, so I'll just be doing Buccialati, Abbacchio and Mista for this one. Extra warning that this is really bad (I'm particularly not happy with Mista's section) because I wrote this late at night and didn't know what I was saying as I wrote it, so double apologies for that.

Bruno Buccelati

In spite of his occupation, Bruno has no qualms befriending the civilian population of Naples and doing good for them. He holds a profound pity for the victims of organised crime, and is eager to help where he can. So when you approach him on the street, asking for help with ridding yourself of a creepy stranger who had made it his business to follow and harass you, Bruno is quick to ensure your would-be stalker never looks your way again.

Although Bruno saw to it that you were escorted home safely, he can't help but feel some well-intentioned worry for your well-being over the coming days. He checks in on you again, which you find to be very sweet, but as the days pass by again his worry returns. Continuing to visit you would seem odd, he knows, but surely there's no harm in asking Narancia to check through your window once in a while?

At first it really is just concern for your safety, but after a while, Bruno is forced to accept that he is genuinely infatuated with you. His feelings are far too strong to simply sweep under the rug, and approaching you the normal way could put you in danger, provided it even works. He isn't going to kidnap you, that would leave him no better than the thugs he chases off of the streets, but to make you his he's going to resort to something unorthodox.

Bruno makes a few preparations. He does a few favours for your friends and family- gotta make sure they're on his side, He also checks his intel into the area's rival street gangs, since it can't hurt to have a hint of truth to the story he's going to tell. Then, armed with a few empty suitcases and a fake look of concern, he heads to your house late one night.

He announces to you that one of the rival gangs in the area has singled you out as a target for trafficking, and because of your previous interactions with him, they're dead set on taking you. Bruno assures you not to worry and helps you pack away your things, promising that you will be safe in his care while the issue with the gang is sorted out. You'll be staying in his house, of course. It's best he's right on call in case anyone tries to come after you.

Your new life in Bruno's house is a strange one. You cannot leave the house of course, except for the occasional short trip with him or his men to stop your mental health from suffering, but your internet access is unrestricted, you can call your family as much as you want, and you're allowed to buy anything you'd like with your money (or better, have him buy it for you). You have your own room, but Bruno often asks to come in and sit with you late at night. It's all for your comfort, of course.

After a couple of months, Bruno's excuses to keep you longer will start to run out as you start to wonder why he hasn't eliminated the street gang yet. The hope is that by this point, you would have already fallen for Bruno's charm and started to love him, but barring this, he'll simply buy more time by making up more reasons why it's unsafe for you to go home.

But, if all else fails, and you begin to insist on leaving... well, Bruno didn't want to do this, but he can't just let you go. You're locked in your room, windows barred as Bruno explains to you calmly that this is all for your own good. You can come out any time you want, Amore. All you have to do is promise to stay.

Leone Abbacchio

Despite his occasionally cold demeanour, Abbacchio is no stranger to the want for companionship and affection. In fact, it's fair to say he needs it, and that going so long without tenderness has left him empty, miserable and disillusioned. But it's only a matter of time before somebody reawakens his need for warmth.

Both of you were having a bad day. You were downtrodden and lamentful, and as sad people tend to do together, you shared your angsts together as you sat at the bus stop, neither of you caring that this was the first time you'd even seen each other.

Abbacchio does not want the conversation to end. So when the bus arrives, he gets a ticket to your stop instead, and sits with you, continuing to talk. He is sad when you say goodbye. He knows he needs to see you again. He thinks nothing of lingering to see which street you turn onto as you walk home.

Abbacchio gets to work right away. He needs to have you, but cannot see you ever falling for someone like him. Not through normal means instead. His thoughts turn to abduction, but the image of you begging and crying as he drags you to his car saddens him. He knows he could never hurt you that badly. He needs to find a half-way point, between force and natural love.

The first thing he does, once his mind is made up, is go to your boss. Using Passione's name, he quickly convinces them to fire you without any question as to why. It is a similar story with your landlord a few days later. Any friends or relatives who might take you in are also sent a warning phone-call.

You know full-well what has happened. You knew at the time your one-time companion on the bus was a mafioso, his story made that clear. You beat yourself up every minute for not avoiding him then and there. And now, as misfortune after misfortune strikes you, everyone who bears you bad news has the same white-haired stranger to speak of. When, on your first night on the streets, a tall figure approaches you from the black car, you do not feel any surprise.

Both you and Abbacchio know what he is here for, so he does not explain much. He sombrely instructs you to get in the car if you don't want to be stuck on the streets any longer, promising that he will not do you any harm if you comply. He has already struck out every other option for possibly helping yourself. You have little choice but to go with him.

You do not expect much when you arrive at Abbacchio's house, but instead you find all your old possessions lined up for you to decorate your room with. After quickly explaining where the bathroom is and which foods from the kitchen are free for taking, he goes to bed, advising that you do the same. You are completely, and utterly perplexed.

Abbacchio forces little conversation on you in the early weeks. Most of the time, he is out doing work, leaving you with free reign of his house. Soon, you do not feel at all as though you were forced to be here. You dare say your life is better here than it was before. Abbacchio's friends occasionally visit, making sure that Leone isn't mistreating you and you're fully happy here. Eventually, Abbacchio relents to letting you reopen communications with your friends. You cannot say you have anything to complain about.

The only question, is what Abbacchio ever wanted from you. It's so strange how he went to all these lengths to take you only to largely ignore you. The truth is, he's waiting for you to open up to him of your own free will. As he lies in bed alone at night, he dreams of you coming into his room, asking if he can hold you for a minute.

Mista

Guido Mista has dated a few times in the past, and he isn't interested in letting Passione stop him from continuing. It doesn't matter how you met him, just that after a few encounters you began to date, and were very happy with your new beau. You worked well together, what else is there to say?

But after your second date, Buccialati received word of your existence and was concerned. He isn't exactly going to force you to stop dating, Mista is an adult after all and can do as he pleases. But Buccelati wants to make sure you know what you're getting into.

Paying you a visit, Buccelati explains to you that your new boyfriend is involved with the mafia, and continuing to see him will involve certain risks. He is happy for you to take these risks, so long as you are aware of their existence. You thank him for him time, and immediately proceed to shut off all communication with Mista without explanation.

After a brief shouting match with Buccelati once Mista realises what he's done, he marches over to your house to plead with you to take him back. You stand your ground, that Mista lied to you and you refuse to be involved with criminals, but Mista isn't giving up.

The argument escalates. You slam the door in his face. Mista goes home and despairs. You were the best he's ever had, and now he's supposed to accept that you're just... gone?! No... all you need is a little more time. Mista turns right around and heads back to your house. This time, he isn't letting up for anything.

It goes much further than he intended. In a split-moment of instinct, Mista draws his gun and threatens you into letting him in. He really didn't mean to scare you like that, but his emotions are running high right now and he doesn't know how else to make you listen.

So, here you are now, a hostage in your own home, because your barely boyfriend couldn't let you go. In the ultimatum the two of you made after he threatened you, you ended up agreeing not to leave the house at all for the time since he was scared you'd try to run.

Mista doesn't stay with you all the time, but he visits you daily to bring you things and try to repair the relationship. To his credit, he hasn't threatened you at all since the initial incident and seems to regret it intently, but forgiving him is difficult after what he did.

Your commitments are mysteriously all taken care of, your boss inexplicably granting you a long period of furlough at full pay. Buccelati wasn't kidding when he said the group Mista was part of was powerful. You shudder to think of what else he could do.

#team buccellati #team bucciarati #bruno buccellati #bruno buccerati #bruno buccelati x reader #bruno buccerati x reader #leone abbacchio #leone abbacchio x reader #Guido Mista #guido mista x reader #yandere cw #stalking cw #abduction cw

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ikeromantic · 3 years

Text

First Day

This is an Ikemen Sengoku coffee shop AU. Approx 1700 words. Nobunaga, the owner of Azuchi Cafe, hires a girl to work in his coffee shop alongside his other oddball employees.

Pastry Chef and little rain cloud: Ieyasu Tokugawa

Head Chef and irredeemable flirt: Masamune Date

Dining Room Manager and rule-master: Hideyoshi Toyotomi

Barista and most popular kid in your class: Ranmaru Mori

Barista and coffee disaster: Mitsunari Ishida

Accountant and walking bad-boy vibe: Mitsuhide Akechi

I have never written a coffee shop AU and I have no idea what I'm doing.

Nobunaga unlocked the back door at 3am. It was so early most people would still call it night, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet at this hour. As if he were the sole living human in a world of stray cats and blinking traffic lights.

He flipped on the lights and began morning prep. As the owner of Azuchi Cafe, he didn’t need to be the shop opener, but he was the kind of man who’d never ask his employees to do something he wouldn’t do himself. This meant he often worked from opening until close, cleaning the kitchen at 10pm. It was something he was proud of, even if it was exhausting some days.

Ieyasu arrived a few minutes later, along with the morning shipment. Fresh fruit, cream, some new coffee bean varieties, and other items he stocked daily. The blond was quiet as he helped unload. Not a morning person, not by a longshot.

Once the crates were inside, Ieyasu made a beeline for the espresso machine and had two cups on the counter before Nobunaga completed his inventory check.

The blond downed both cups and then got started in the kitchen. He was too smart for a cafe job - easily one of the best bakers Nobunaga had ever met. And this cafe was blessed with two, though the other man was a polar opposite of the silent, serious Ieyasu Tokugawa.

As if thinking of him summoned him, the back door swung open and in swaggered Masamune. “Good morning!” His voice was loud and vibrant, as always. He never needed caffeine to feel awake - Masamune was naturally caffeinated.

“D’you have to be so loud?” Ieyasu glared.

“Do you have to be such a grouch?” Masamune raised his one eyebrow. His other eye was covered with a pirate-style eyepatch. The look wasn’t just for effect. He’d lost his left eye to a childhood illness, but that hadn’t dampened his spirit or enthusiasm.

Ieyasu held up a dough covered middle finger in response and went back to making croissants.

Masamune put a hand to his heart. “Such cruelty.”

“Stop bickering and start cooking.” Nobunaga tried to sound stern but couldn’t help the little smile on his lips.

The two of them did, though the grumbling and sniping never really stopped.

While Ieyasu handled bakery items, Masamune was in charge of the grill. Hot sandwiches, soups, and whatever else he decided to put on the menu. Nobunaga had given up trying to restrain him. The man was a genius cook, and whatever he made sold, so it made sense to give him his head.

Akechi showed up next. Mitsuhide was an accountant by trade, with a law degree besides. He didn’t technically work at the shop, but he did the books and didn’t charge much for the work. Nobunaga wasn’t sure why he spent so much time at the cafe, but he’d become a fixture. Showing up before opening to do Azuchi’s books and then sitting in the dining area, working on his laptop for hours.

“Anything I should know about,” Nobunaga called, before Mitsuhide disappeared into the cafe office.

“If there was, I’d tell you. Probably.” Mitsuhide gave him his trademark smile, sly like a fox.

“It’s that probably that worries me.” Nobunaga frowned. He didn’t actually believe Mitsuhide would sabotage him. Not after so many years as a client. But with that man, you never quite knew where you stood.

Akechi shrugged. “I can’t think of a reason not to - but you never know.” He disappeared into the office, and soon the only sound from that room was the clacking of a keyboard.

The sky to the east was beginning to lighten, the stars fading from view. It would be time to open soon. As if on cue, Mitsunari showed up with Ranmaru in tow. They were the baristas, taking orders, making coffee, and serving the sit-down diners.

“Isn’t it a beautiful morning?” Mitsunari said this to Ieyasu’s back as he passed him.

The blond snorted. “It looks like every morning. Literally, exactly the same.”

“And every morning is beautiful.” Mitsunari Ishida smiled. “I am so lucky to work with such wonderful people. It will be a great day. I can feel it.”

Ranmaru laughed. “Absolutely. Just ignore old grumble-pants here. We are going to have an awesome day.”

“I am not old,” Ieyasu snapped.

“You are compared to me!” Ranmaru was the youngest in the crew, and he liked to remind the others about it.

“That’s enough. Get up to the front and prep the display. Both of you.” Nobunaga pointed toward the front counter.

Ranmaru gave him a pouty look, but did as he was told. Despite his penchant for causing trouble in the kitchen, he was great with customers, and pretty reliable.

Mitsunari didn’t seem to realize he’d been in the middle of the bickering. He just smiled and followed Ranmaru to the front.

That one, Nobunaga thought, was dangerous. At first impression, Mitsunari Ishida seemed like an airhead. Cheerful to the point of being vapid, and clumsy as well. But he could take orders faster than anyone else, remember which customer had which preference, and quote the menu without a glance at the board on the wall. He was great, so long as you didn’t ask him to pour the coffee.

At opening, Hideyoshi finally sidled in. He was the dining room manager, in charge of the servers, and everything on the front end. Nobunaga trusted him implicitly. Most cafe owners had to worry about theft and inattention from their cash-handling employees, but not him. Not with Hideyoshi Toyotomi at the counter. That man was a veritable saint, if sometimes a little melodramatic about his service.

“I know you told me I didn’t need to be here until 10, since you open. But I couldn’t let you handle everything alone.” Hideyoshi’s version of ‘good morning’ as he tied his apron on.

Nobunaga sighed. “You are my closing manager, Hideyoshi. You’re going to be stuck here until 10 or 11 tonight . . . and you realize, I do have employees here, helping, right?”

Toyotomi nodded. “Sure, sure. But extra hands always help with morning rush, right?”

“Right. And that’s why I have a new hire coming in at 8.” Nobunaga sighed.

“A new hire?” Mitsunari’s violet gaze lit up. “Will I get to train them?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ieyasu grumbled. “We want them to make coffee, not learn how to dump the pot on the floor.”

“Stop being so mean,” Ranmaru sniped back, defending Mitsunari.

“Hey, hey! The new employee isn’t gonna get trained by any of you. Clearly, the boss is going to put them with me. To pass on my culinary genius.” Masamune’s one eye sparkled.

“No, no, and absolutely not,” Nobunaga said, raising his voice. “Hideyoshi and I are going to train them. If the lot of you don’t terrify them into quitting on their first day.”

And that was the end of that discussion. It was 5am and the door opened. The steady stream of customers kept everyone busy for the next few hours. Lattes and cappuccinos, americanos and macchiatos, and decaf for those in denial. The flow began to slack as 8am approached. Most people were at work now, coffee in hand.

Clean-up started in the kitchen, and Hideyoshi began on the dining room.

The glass front door opened at 8am sharp. The new hire walked in. This wasn’t Nobunaga’s first time meeting her, but he still felt a twang in his chest as she smiled brightly at no one in particular.

“I hope I’m not late!”

Hideyoshi eyed her up and down, nodding to himself. Flat shoes, cute but practical. Hair pulled back sensibly - stylish, but not overdone. Professional clothes, fitted and comfortable. He hadn’t been part of the interview but he was feeling pretty positive about this candidate. He gave Nobunaga a nod.

“No, you’re right on time,” Mitsunari replied, leaning on the counter. His angelic smile was fixed on her.

The impact was obvious. One did not face the pure, focused joy of Mitsunari and not feel it. She blinked for a moment, stunned, her cheeks flushing. “Oh. Well that’s good, right?”

“Sure is,” Ranmaru said, coming around the side of the bakery display. He wiped his hands on his apron and held one out to her. “Welcome to Azuchi!”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Nobunaga grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m cuter when I say it.” Ranmaru’s cheek reply got a chuckle from Masamune.

The one-eyed chef came out from the kitchen to observe. He wasn’t looking for whatever qualities Hideyoshi had, but what he saw made him grin. “Well, lass, I’d say welcome again but that’d make me look like an idiot. How ‘bout I help you put on an apron and show you around the place?”

“Again, my line,” Nobunaga said tiredly.

Ieyasu poked his head out from the back and sighed heavily. “Great. Another fluff head to train. Look, when you get bored listening to these idiots, come find me in the kitchen. I’ll try to teach you to bake. I’m sure you can manage a simple recipe. Probably.”

The girl looked unsure how to respond. She finally shrugged. “Yeah, ok! I’m here to work, so whatever you want to teach me, I want to learn.”

“You’d be better off learning how to keep the books,” said an amused voice behind Ieyasu.

The girl’s eyes darted up as Mitsuhide came out from the back. “Not that I’m hiring. I don’t do internships either,” he continued. He stepped out from behind the counter and closed in on her like a stalking cat. His golden eyes slid down from her face, over her chest and hips, down her legs, and back up, slow as syrup. “Though I can think of some reasons to make an exception.” He handed her a business card. “For when you tire of this service job.”

“Ah, thanks?” She glanced at the card and by the time she looked up again he was gone.

“Everyone, get back to work. I’m handling the new hire. You’ll all get a chance to train with her. I want her to work swing, so she’ll need to know a little of everything.” Nobunaga clapped once.

The workers all got back to it, though not without plenty of backward glances.

Hideyoshi handed the girl an apron. “Good luck!”

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen ranmaru #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen masamune #ikesen ieyasu #coffee shop au #fanfiction #fanfic #otome guys #otome #fluff

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

A Soft Confession Draped in Ivory and Silk (Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Pro-Hero!Reader)

Warnings: cursing, sort of domestic fluff in the snippet of the future Bakugou sees with you, mentions of alcohol, Aged-Up!AU, suggestive themes, implied smut, mutual pining, there's a lot of fluff in this one.

Synopsis: It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated UA. This was supposed to be a trouble-free reunion, except your reservations got screwed up and now you have to room with someone else while you're staying for the entirety of the trip. The weird thing is, everyone seems to have some kind of excuse as to why they can't let you sleepover in their room for the night. So, you decide on Bakugou's, the only person who can't say no because he hasn't arrived yet. But your actions have consequences and now you need to deal with all the feelings that you've been frantically suppressing as they resurface.

Words: 19.2k

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" Bakugou seethed hotly, vastly annoyed with the sight that greeted him.

He had kicked open the door to his allocated hotel room, exhausted from the long drive and wanted nothing more than to flop on the comfy bed and just fall asleep but that couldn't happen if you were here.

Of course it had to be you. Of all the shitty extras, it had to be you.

Fuck.

Rolling your eyes at his angry exasperation, you continued stirring the pot on the stove without paying him any attention, which you knew irritated him greatly. Free hand planted idly on your hips, your brow scrunched up as you caught a whiff of burning potatoes and quickly turned off the fire.

Alright, so you weren't the best at cooking, but that wasn't going to stop you. A girl's gotta eat.

In hindsight, you could've just picked up some food on the way or been smart and packed a lunch before you left but in your defense, you were running late. You blamed being completely unprepared on Mina, who failed to inform you in time so you would have enough time to appropriately pack and not panic about seeing all your old classmates from your UA days.

By the time she told you of this little trip, you had exactly seven hours to get everything in order and head up north to the high-end hotel Iida and Yaoyorozu, the old class representative and executive officer, reserved for the group of 22.

They had decided to hold a reunion of some sorts since it had been a number of years since you guys all graduated. Really, you suspected it just to be an excuse for all of you to get drunk but you weren't complaining.

Hero work was taxing.

Even Aizawa, Present Mic, All Might and Midnight had come along for the weekend getaway. Though they were stuck in traffic and wouldn't make it until the next morning.

"The reservations got mixed up when Midoriya called in." You said over your shoulder to the grumpy man pouting in the corner, scooping out the soup in the pot into bowls and you ignored how Bakugou growled when the name of his rival passed through your lips. "It was either share a room with you or Mineta, so..."

Bakugou glowered at you from the other side of the room but he didn't argue. That little pervert might've grown up a bit since he actually transformed into a decent hero who was a feminist and advocated for women all the time instead of trying to touch them constantly without consent, but that didn't mean he wanted you to sleep in the same bed as the fucking grape head.

Weirdly enough, everyone you asked seemed to have an excuse as to why they couldn't let you sleep over with them for a night until the mistake was sorted out. The guys you could understand but the girls?

Something was kind of off there.

So then it was just down to Mineta, who was an absolute no in your book, and Bakugou, who was the only one who hadn't arrived yet.

Knowing that you'd be completely screwed over if he said no too, you made a choice, figuring he could kick you out if it really was too much of a bother.

At least the accommodations were nice.

The room was a luxurious suite, more than big enough to hold you both without getting in each other's way.

Rich, velvet curtains hung from the valances and a small crystal chandelier hung above the mahogany table. The kitchen was fully equipped with the latest line of appliances in Japan and stocked with utensils and stainless steel cookware. The room even came with French doors that separated the bedroom from the cozy living area and kitchen parts of the suite, giving it a secluded but romantic feel.

You ignored the latter portion of that vibe.

The two of you were friends at best and you were still wondering if you could even call him a close friend when most of your interactions happened on the job in joint operations that required both of your quirks.

It was hard to ever find to get out and see your friends, let alone even consider dating. You had given up that dream after some sleazebag tried to get into your pants after one date. When your team figured out he was after your fame, that put the nail in the coffin and you hadn't tried to see anyone else since then.

For a time there, you had thought you had some potential for a relationship with Shindou since the two of you held mutual attraction for each other but that was over when he started seeing one of his old classmates.

You were happy for the both of them but it didn't dull the ache in your heart for someone who understood the life that you lived.

And not in a platonic way.

Shindou being in a relationship honestly didn't come as a surprise to you, he had feelings for her since the provisional licensing exam and besides, your heart was set on someone else.

Someone you could never hope that they would return your feelings.

Breezing out of the kitchen with two portions in hand, you passed one to the grumpy ash-blond's way.

Bakugou scoffed haughtily as he left his luggage by the door and threw himself down into the sofa positioned behind the TV, completely ignoring your peace offering. "What the fuck makes you think I want to eat your shitty cooking?"

"Suit yourself."

You shrugged your shoulders and set it down on the coffee table, undeterred by his crude yet muffled language. Something things never changed, you could still read him like a book. His temper was all a front.

Had been since high school. Now you both were pros, constantly out on the streets and saving the day. It was rewarding work but it was also exhausting.

You couldn't put into words how much you were looking forward to this getaway trip, where you didn't have to worry about appearances or the media catching you off guard.

You don't know exactly how, but somehow Todoroki, Yaoyorozu and Iida managed to pay them off or something to get them to leave you alone for the blessed three days this reunion was going to span.

And you have to say, you had never been more grateful to have rich people as friends.

Leaving to go change so that you were ready for the dinner tonight with all of your old classmates while simultaneously chowing down on your delicious (somewhat burnt) food, the corner of your mouth quirked up in a smile as you heard the bowl scrap against the table as the grumpy hero begrudgingly pulled it toward him.

Unable to resist, you tossed a lighthearted jab over your shoulder without looking at him. "Aw, you do have a heart~"

"Fuck off, dumbass." Bakugou spat from around a mouthful of potato, yet making no move to set down the food you had spent so much time making before he arrived.

Even though it was a little overcooked, it tasted better than any of the shit he had been forcing himself to eat recently.

Being a pro was no fucking joke, not that he ever treated it like one before, but it sure as shit seemed a lot easier when they were students and had fucking adults to rely on.

It was still fucking weird to him to think of his old homeroom teacher as a colleague.

Bakugou lazed around for a couple hours after he finished eating your food. He wasn't ever going to admit it, but your home cooking hit the spot. His own cooking was still better but yours wasn't shit. At least, not compared to that fucking Dunce Face's.

He still remembered when you and Sato would make dinner back when they all lived in Heights Alliance. Of course, Emergency Exit had a fire extinguisher handy anytime you were in the kitchen because you had a habit of lighting things on fire.

A lot.

Flipping through the channels on the TV boredly, Bakugou blankly stared at the screen with moving pictures that he couldn't care less about as his mind wandered back to you.

When Kirishima first told him about the trip, he flat out declined coming with.

There was no fucking way he was going. Why the hell would he want to see all their annoying faces and shit?

At least, that was all that was running through his mind until the idiot slyly mentioned how you were going to be coming along.

Bakugou honestly didn't think you would be one for all this shit. According to his agent, you had been so swamped with work in your district that you hadn't been taking proper care of yourself. Not that he cared or anything.

But it was going to be a fucking inconvenience for him if you suddenly fainted on the job and was rushed to the hospital, leaving him to pick up all your damn slack.

Because your agencies were sort of near each other, he thought he couldn't take the time off if you were going, but his PR team had insisted, practically shoving him out the door so he could pack seven days early.

He had a sinking suspicion that his absence would allow them to curb the damage done after that stunt he pulled last month at the middle school they made him talk at.

It wasn't his fault!! Those damn kids had too many fucking questions!!

Alright, so that wasn't really it. He had overheard one of the teachers spewing shit about heroes and how useless they were so of course he was fucking angry. To have the fucking nerve to not even lower their voice in front of him was a trip but the last straw was when they carelessly brought up your name in the conversation, haughtily claiming that you didn't know how to do your job properly.

And he fucking lost it.

The entire security team had to pry him off of the wailing teacher when they arrived and once the facts were cleared up, no one could say that they really blamed him for reacting the way that he did but still, the press was going to have a field day when this got out.

Bakugou had clicked his tongue angrily and stormed the other way while the police got the situation sorted out.

He would own up to what he had done, he wasn't fucking afraid. He would kill them any day of the week.

But he halted in his tracks down the dreary and empty hallway when he saw a little boy sitting alone outside the classroom. He recognized him. He was inside during the meet-and-greet but the teacher that he had just got into a verbal battle with had sent him outside for some reason.

The child whimpered and curled into a tighter ball when he came closer and Bakugou cursed himself for not having the same calming effects on kids like Deku had.

"Oi, brat. What the hell are you doing sitting out here?" He asked abrasively, crouching down a little ways away to give him some space.

The kid sniffled loudly and raised his head, his eyes swollen and bloodshot from how hard he had been crying and Bakugou's heart twisted painfully.

"M-Mister?" He stammered out in a small voice. "Wha...?"

"You're crying."

Since no one else was around, Bakugou's guard dropped a fraction and his eyes softened slightly.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?"

After six minutes of the kid stuttering to find his voice in front of his idol, he managed to tell him a little bit.

And if Bakugou was mad before, he sure as hell was livid now.

Because this kid was being punished by his teacher and his peers for something he had no control over. His quirk.

His teacher hated him and would often send him outside because it would go off at random times and distract his classmates. And while everyone pointed fingers at him and laughed, he was left all alone to deal with a power that was too big for him to control.

Labeled a villain, he was cast out and even though the pro-hero could clearly see how kind his heart was just in the few minutes he'd interacted with him, no one else seemed to care enough to give him the time of day.

Bakugou offered out his hand and demanded that he get up. Timidly, the little kid did so, exclaiming out in surprise when he dragged him towards the direction of the classroom.

The hero could sense his rising fear and anxiety so he stopped just outside of the door where the police had been filing out of a minute ago and turned to him, squatting down to his level.

"Listen, brat." Bakugou barked out, but not unkindly. "Those extras don't mean a damn thing. You're fucking strong and you're going to be a great hero when you grow up."

He rapidly blinked his eyes and they sparkled. "Really?!"

Bakugou snorted. "Yup. Now, come on. It's storytime."

When he entered, he was disgusted to see how the teacher and the kids recoiled back from the boy hiding behind his legs. And while he couldn't necessarily fault the kids as much as their teacher because they were being taught that this little guy was a monster, to see a grown-adult grooming them to judge people like this was fucking wrong.

He would know.

Sitting down, he patted his thigh once to invite the little boy to take a seat on his lap. When the boy finally scrambled on and got comfortable, even though he was still clearly nervous about being in front of his class like this, Bakugou started his tale.

The few security officers who were standing by the teacher for safety should he launch at them again and his own agent were wary of his intentions, but all that diminished when he opened his mouth.

The calm hero told the wide-eyed kids how he was a bully to someone who had the true heart of what it took to be a hero and how he was able to grow by recognizing his mistakes and taking action. He told them that it was hard to change but that it was a good thing even though it felt weird and felt like the world was against him at times.

He told them that it didn't matter whether they had a strong quirk, a weak quirk or no quirk at all, at the end of the day, they were all the same: imperfect humans just trying to live and find happiness. And that everyone was deserving of respect.

Even the little boy they had casted out from their social circle.

Bakugou could see some things start to click in their minds and while he knew that most of this would fly over their heads for now since they weren't at an age where they had to think about all these things on the daily, he hoped that it would stick with them and come back to them when they needed it most.

The teacher's jaw had gone slack in shock and Bakugou glared at them, sending them one last pointed remark about how it was important to ensure the future generation had the tools they needed to thrive in this world and they gulped, averting their eyes as they were thoroughly intimidated by the way his burning eyes scorched into them.

Throwing his head back with a heavy sigh, Bakugou closed his eyes.

He needed this weekend to get the fuck away with everything that was wrong in this world and accept that he could only change the things he could control one at a time.

But patience was never his strong suit.

Growling, he pushed himself off of the too-comfortable couch and stormed his way to the front door to grab his luggage he had discarded to the side earlier before heading to the bedroom. He paused at the closed door for a second, briefly debating if he should knock or not but shook his head.

Fuck it. It's my fucking room.

He kicked open the door despite it being made of glass and he froze in place as his eyes landed on your form standing in front of the full-length mirror with your bare back to him.

Your eyes shining in the reflection of the polished mirror snapped to where his figure was still frozen in the doorway and you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to cover yourself up or anything.

It honestly wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, your hero costume had your back exposed all the time but you were damn annoyed that he had burst in when he did because he startled you and dropped the thing you had been playing with for a good half an hour now.

You were halfway to getting that tricky zipper to cooperate with you when he interrupted you. His timing literally could not be worse.

Sighing, you motioned him in, a bit confused why he cleared his throat and looked away from you as he set down his suitcase and strutted over without a fight.

"Make yourself useful and help me." You demanded with a slight pout. It was his fault the stupid thing was now all the way down again. Who made these things?!

You didn't have enough hands for this task.

In order to zip up the complicated dress, you needed to simultaneously hold together all the lace that crisscrossed near the neck while your other hand tried to wiggle up the zipper.

All while defying gravity and attempting not to twist your arms off.

Bakugou came to stand behind you and he exhaled frustratingly at the mess you made. The whole thing was tangled in the back, there were too many pieces for him to know what was supposed to go where.

"What the fuck did you even do, dumbass?" He muttered, more to himself than to you as he crossed over and pulled through the complicated design to get it to lay flat, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

You giggled, gathering your hair in one hand and sweeping it to one side so that it was off the nape of your neck and wouldn't get in the way.

You swallowed when his fingers brushed over your skin as he undid the damage you dealt to this fancy article of clothing and tried to ignore how your heart skipped a beat.

Honestly, you hated parties and fancy gatherings like the one tonight was going to be, but Mina and Ochako had begged you to wear something nice for at least one of the days, hence why you were now in this predicament.

Because you had absolutely no idea how to put on a dress this fancy.

Yaoyorozu had bought it for you last year when all of the girls from the former Class A and B went on a shopping spree, claiming it brought out your eyes and was such a perfect fit for you that you had to have it, regardless of how many zeros there were on the tag at the time of purchase.

You thought your eyes were going to fall out of your head the second she swiped her platinum credit card without so much as batting an eye.

You haven't gotten a chance to wear it yet. It really was a special occasions gown since it was floor-length and wouldn't be appropriate for any modern day clubs or work parties. So when the girls told you the dress code for this weekend, you were secretly a little excited, the inner child in you skipping around in circles at the notion of getting to play dress up.

According to Mina and Tsuyu, the ballroom that dinner was going to be served in tonight was supposed to be extravagant and you couldn't wait to see what it looked like.

The Solaria Hotel was one of Japan's finest and most exclusive establishments and had a five star rating from over hundreds of thousands of pro-heroes.

And you could certainly see why.

Just the size of the bedroom itself was already twice as big than your apartment that you rented out.

The king-sized bed was ridiculously huge and you were pretty sure the comforter was lined with genuine velvet. Silk sheets for the mattress and the pillow had your heart jumping for joy at how soft and silky it felt against your skin.

Aside from the bed, which also had a sheer white canopy draping down, the ceiling was ten feet high and rose petals were scattered around the huge room.

If you didn't know any better, you would think that this was a love hotel instead of one that they geared towards a resting spot for heroes. But you supposed you could understand why they had set it up the way they did.

Even heroes needed that kind of relief.

But luckily, the hotel business was slow this time of month and you didn't see many other guests when you came in, so the lack of bustle was a nice change of pace from your everyday hectic schedule.

Twisting around to see what was taking Bakugou so long to figure out the lace back, you yelped when he harshly pushed you back so that you were facing forwards.

"Hey!!" You protested indignantly and you swayed on your feet. It was a good thing you weren't wearing your heels yet.

He scoffed, deft fingers continuing to work at the knots as he repeated his earlier words. "What the fuck did you even do?"

"I didn't do anything!!"

This time, he snorted in disbelief. "Yeah right. This shit looks worse than Deku's hair."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?!" You shrieked.

After arguing back and forth for a few minutes, you began to grow anxious as the time started to tick by. You had to be down there for dinner in less than an hour and you even though you had already done your hair and makeup, mostly, you still weren't really prepared for this.

Crowds weren't your thing, which made being a pro hard sometimes, but the work you did was worth that particular downside.

Your eyes widened and you hopped in place when Bakugou finally zipped you up. Spinning around and being careful not to trip, you beamed at him as you threw your arms around his neck.

"Thank you!!!" You squealed gratefully.

He clicked his tongue and huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Get off me now, dumbass."

You clambered off of him albeit ungracefully since this gown was pretty heavy thanks to the many layers of fabric and you flailed your arms like a baby bird as you lost your balance.

Bakugou's hand shot out to catch you before you fell but before you could thank him, he was already turning away and going to his side of the room.

But tried as he might, he couldn't stop staring at you even as you turned away.

As soon as he collected his luggage once more and dragged it over to his side of the bed that wasn't claimed by you, his thoughts drifted back to you once again as you twirled in the mirror, giggling to yourself as you remained completely oblivious to the vermilion gaze burning into your back.

He swore in his head. It was much harder to stop them from going rampant with that intoxicating scent of banana and citrus that came from a specific kind of lotion he knew you always put on ever since he got it for you.

It was a gift for the last Christmas your class shared in your third year in high school. And the only reason he bought you that was because fucking Raccoon-Eyes thought it would be a good idea to put a limit on the gift giving since Iida had gone all out last year and nearly flooded Heights Alliance with an obscene amount of presents.

Shinsou might've had a hand in helping deliver them.

But of fucking course you would be wearing it right now. He could smell it so clearly, it was so fragrant it was making his head go foggy.

Bakugou tried to concentrate on something, anything really that would get his mind off of you but to no avail.

Everywhere he looked, there was evidence of you and your light.

Your clothes folded neatly in the walnut dresser on the top drawer, your books on the nightstand, even all those bottles on the vanity in the joined bathroom that was connected to the bedroom that he didn't really think was necessary unless you were trying to scrape off your skin.

In the small walk-in closet, if it could even be classified as such, was filled only with your empty luggage and the hanger in which probably hung up the dress to prevent it from wrinkling before you put it on.

And now that he wasn't fucking fighting a battle with your stubborn zipper, Bakugou really got a chance to take you in.

The layers of pale green chiffon flowed around your ankles when you moved. Paired with billowy sleeves made from that same sheer material, it made you look ethereal. The bodice flattered your figure and the sweetheart neckline skimmed just below your collar bones, making you appear soft and pure, like a fairy who could bend nature to her will with just a kiss.

The lace back was beautifully intricate and the golden zipper was barely noticeable when you let go of your hair.

It cascaded down, the soft curls brushing against your shoulders and a glass butterfly clip was nestled in your hair to keep most of it away from your face, save for a few curled strands that framed your face.

You were breathtaking.

You raised an eyebrow curiously when Bakugou suddenly started to cough violently and worried that he had somehow managed to choke on his own spit, you gathered up your skirts and rushed over to him.

You weren't insulted when he brushed you off, shouting at you that he was fucking fine, but you didn't push the issue.

He grabbed his things from his suitcase and stomped off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and you were left wondering what all of that was about.

Shrugging to yourself, you figured that he would either deal with it himself or go to Kirishima if and when he needed help.

Now, you were faced with a completely different dilemma.

There was about fifteen minutes before the scheduled time to report downstairs and you still needed to put on your shoes. But it was nearly impossible to see over the poofy skirts of this dress.

Groaning in frustration, you threw your hands down exasperatedly from trying to get it on for the fourth time. This was getting old.

Then, your whole face lit up when you got an idea.

Practically throwing yourself face-down on the bed, you squirmed and wiggled around on the king-sized bed until your back was flat against the cushiony mattress and you huffed, blowing the hair out of your face as you stuck your legs up in the air, grabbing for the shoes to put on as you bent your knees.

It was an awkward position as your skirt obeyed gravity but it worked.

Two minutes later you had both of the heels on the right way and did up the laces properly.

Inwardly, you were wondering why you were even bothering to teeter on these stilts for the entirety of the party but they completely the look. Besides, you were almost sure that you guys were going to take pictures later, even if Bakugou would only join you guys for one.

You hummed to yourself, standing up and smoothing out your skirt. You were in the middle of fixing your hair when the lock to the bathroom clicked and out stepped Bakugou.

Your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. Damn that man can clean up nice when he wasn't busy murdering villains.

A pressed suit adorned his broad frame and you had to swallow to stop yourself from drooling at how good he looked.

The suit was a classic black, with a crisp white shirt on the inside and his pants were clearly ironed before coming here. A red handkerchief peeked out from where it was tucked into his breast pocket and you swooned.

He had gotten everything right, right down to the shiny black dress shoes. You didn't know how it was possible to not have any wrinkles or a hair out of place as he slid up his embroidered tie with an irritated scowl, making the lapels lay flat with an aggressive swipe at the offending material.

You barely noticed his rising aggravation as they kept popping back up and he adjusted the cufflinks before jerking at the collar again.

"Here," You giggled. "Let me help."

Bakugou grumbled but lowered his hands and let you do as you pleased as you tucked it in further to get it to straighten out without popping back out.

"Thanks." He said gruffly and you flashed him a bright smile.

"Anytime!!"

Bakugou groaned quietly as you flounced out of the room. "You're too fucking cheerful."

You threw a charismatic smile his way as you skipped to the front door, making sure to grab your clutch on the way out. You didn't necessarily need your wallet tonight as you weren't planning on getting drunk but you weren't exactly comfortable leaving it in the hotel room.

Years of training had taught you that there were flaws in even the most advanced security systems.

"I didn't think you were going to dress up tonight." You commented casually as you waited for Bakugou to finish grabbing his wallet and phone before locking the door behind you two.

You were leaning against the glass barrier that surrounded the halls.

The Solaria Hotel was more than 100 floors, reminding you of the tower at I-Island that time you guys had to beat those villains to save the professor and restore order to the island. Bakugou's room was on the 80th floor, so you could see everything.

The layout of the circular building had basically ensured that it was hollowed out, rooms circled each floor and had an elevator on the north and south points of the building. In the empty space that you could see below as far as the eye could see, they had crystals suspended in the air that changed color periodically.

He scowled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he fell in step beside you and you tore away from your admiration of the ingenuity of the architecture.

"Shitty Hair made me fucking wear this shit." Bakugou said through clenched teeth as he recalled Kirishima begging him to wear it so they could match tonight. He wasn't going to cave but then fucking Raccoon-Eyes threatened not to feed him.

That wouldn't bother him except for the fact that he wouldn't be able to see you and all the shitty extras would be free to hit on you.

Not on his fucking watch.

Of course, this was decided before he knew you were going to be crashing in his room. He could cook for himself just fine, he didn't need to eat that overpriced shit that Ponytail Girl and Emergency Exit fucking paid for but now he was going anyways because there was no way in hell you were attending alone.

Covering your smile behind your hand, you teased that no matter what he said, he would do anything for Kirishima if he asked and Bakugou exploded at you, right there, in the middle of the hallway.

You shrieked as he launched himself at you and you ran for your life, panting hard as you reached the vacant elevators in the nick of time, frantically pushing the button to get it to close before Bakugou caught up.

Hope swelled in your chest when the doors started to close but it plummeted when a hand stopped it just before it shut completely.

Bakugou licked his lips as he pushed them back open and you backed into the corner to get as far away from him as possible as he advanced.

You gasped when his hands slammed on either side of your head, the soft ding of the elevator doors closing lost on both of you as his eyes bore into yours.

"Time to fucking pay, dumbass." He smirked, leaning in close.

You glanced over his shoulder, quickly concluding that you wouldn't reach the first floor for a good minute and decided you needed to come up with a distraction to ensure you would live to eat at least a morsel of the heavenly food that awaited you.

Bakugou's eyes flew open as you boldly took a step forward, pressing yourself against him and he swallowed hard when your finger teasingly trailed down from his shoulder to his chest. He swore that even though he was wearing two layers, he could feel your touch as though there were no clothes between you two.

The glass of the elevator was transparent and if anyone were looking closely enough, they would be able to see how he was pinning you to the wall with no space between the two of you.

"Aw~" You cooed, batting your lashes at him prettily. "That's such a shame... I was really looking forward to tonight."

He fucking knew you were toying with him, making it sound like a implication that you wanted him to take you back to his room but he fucking knew that you loved food more than any other shit so you had to be messing with him.

But it was pretty hard to believe when you looked up at him so innocently.

Bakugou's mouth pulled back in a heated snarl and it took everything in him not to close the distance and crash his lips onto yours, claiming you for himself tonight, tomorrow, and every other night that was to come.

Your expression cleared as the elevator came to a halt and Bakugou, who had been bracing himself over you, was thrown off balance.

"We're here!!" You announced excitedly, skipping past him for the second time that night.

He slapped a hand to his forehead and rushed out of the elevator into the lobby to catch up with you.

Fuck, what was wrong with him tonight?

The layout of the first five floors were a bit different than the residence area since those were designated for recreational activities and an extensive training gym.

The lobby was beautiful, even though you had skimmed by it earlier just to figure out where you were going to stay since the reservations had been messed up but now you got a good look at it.

A huge crystal chandelier sparkled from the ceiling and your heels clicked as you walked across the polished marble tile.

Everything was gold and white, clean and shining so bright that you could see your reflection in all the surfaces that you looked in. The golden edging along the wainscot and the Victorian details in the carvings along the panels of the ceiling were incredibly well done.

It branched off into several sections, the ambiguity of the lobby enabling them to have several private rooms covered with a heavy velvet curtain to maintain complete privacy.

The only thing that distinguished this floor from looking like a private establishment altogether was the very noticeable front desk in which the staff were stationed.

You were told that there was minimal staff to ensure the utmost respect and privacy but you were glad to see human faces as opposed to all the high-tech the hotel had ingrained into it to make the stay as pleasant as possible.

You didn't know why but it was nice to have a human touch in a world advancing so fast that artificial intelligence and robots were becoming more and more prevalent.

At least you could soak in that hot tub later to forget about anything and everything, relaxing in a blissful state until they kicked you out.

You could sort of recall Mina telling you about it over the phone but you were busy packing so you couldn't pay too much attention to her. But you were pretty sure she said something about a state-of-the-art pool and made another mental note to check it out later once you got out of this ridiculous getup.

Your confidence and schoolgirl excitement that came from dressing up dwindled bit by bit until you were left standing outside of the ballroom in a nervous wreck.

Judging by the music you could hear inside and all the lively chatter, most if not all were already there, and now you were having second thoughts as you anxiously played with your sleeves.

It wasn't that you didn't think you looked good, you really loved how you looked, it was just... you were feeling a bit self-conscious now that you were about to go in.

It was the same feeling that you had right before you had to try out for the hero agency of your dreams right after graduation. You were a bundle of nerves that day but at least then you could prove yourself by using your quirk to fight and take out bad guys.

You highly doubted that Yaoyorozu or Mina would be amused if you took on that same attitude and ripped the dress to shreds.

Regardless of the fact that it was expensive, you really wanted to follow through with this despite the anxiety you were feeling right now.

Bakugou hung back once he caught up to you, chest heaving slightly. You were faster than he remembered. But as he noticed that you were fighting with something internally, he arched an eyebrow and argued with himself about whether or not it was a good idea to ask what shit was stopping you from going in.

By the time he told himself to fuck off and just do it, you had straightened your shoulders and opened the doors yourself.

A wide grin split across his face and he shook his head, in a mixture of begrudging admiration and a hell of a lot of disbelief.

You were fucking strong. No doubt about that.

He knew how much shit you had been through in high school. Your social anxiety was no fucking joke, you had real reactions to situations that stressed you out, but you were dealing with it time and time again just to push through and do what you loved.

That wasn't to say that you didn't fail at times but he was so fucking proud of you for asking the shitheads for help when you needed it.

Because you deserved it.

None of them judged you for it. Hell, Shoji had anxiety just like you, Ponytail Girl still had issues with her self-esteem frequently when her ability as a hero was being called into question by the press who often brought up her revealing hero costume as though that was the only thing that defined her, Icyhot was still dealing with the aftermath of his own trauma when something triggered him and Deku wasn't perfect either.

Your class had been through everything together. You guys were each other's family and were there for each other. Always.

You guys trusted each other with your lives and it was safe to say that you would go to bat for any of the others should they ever be in danger.

Bakugou was broken out of his thoughts as an all-too-cheerful voice shattered his trance.

"Bakugou, lookin' sharp!!" Kirishima called out, cupping his hands over his mouth so that his voice carried further.

Unfortunately, it caused a lot of other people to look his way and Bakugou's face twisted into a scowl.

"Fuck off, Shitty Hair."

Kirishma laughed, the bright sound relaying just how much his language never bothered him and he skipped over to loop his arm through the grumpy ash-blond's.

"Aw, what's got you so angry?" Kirishima teased with a grin, coming around on his other side to sling his arm around his shoulders when Bakugou threw him off.

Bakugou scowled, refusing to reply and his best friend's grin grew.

"So..." He drew out smugly. "I see you arrived with Y/N. Does that mean you finally manned up and told her how you feel?"

You whipped your head around in shock, breaking off your conversation with Jirou when you heard the explosion, and fell into a fit of giggles as the smoke from Bakugou's quirk cleared. Iida and Midoriya were doing damage control to a pent-up Bakugou and Todoroki was standing off to the side for moral support.

As for Kirishima and Kaminari, who had happened to be on his way to greet the pomeranian when the explosion occurred, were slapping their thighs and howling obnoxiously, tears leaking out of their eyes from laughing so hard.

Yaoyorozu shook her head. It was too early in the night to deal with all of this.

She sighed, gracefully putting a hand over her heart. "It seems like Bakugou-san's temper has not changed."

You snickered along with Jirou, who was covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to stop the fit of uncontrollable laughter that had taken over her body when she saw Kaminari's hair sticking straight up due to the fire.

"Oh no, that definitely hasn't changed." You giggled, biting your lip to curb your smile when Bakugou glared at you as if he had heard you even though you were too far away to be within his earshot.

His vermilion eyes narrowed accusingly and you held up your hands in surrender, an innocent expression painted on your features.

Your giggle came out muffled when your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip and you ducked to hide behind Yaoyorozu when Bakugou started stomping over in your direction.

"Hide me!!" You yelped and Jirou rolled her eyes.

"He's already seen you." She pointed out, forgetting her earlier uncomfortability when you first sought her out upon your arrival.

The two of you tended to stick together for these kinds of things, since you both were equally out of your element when it came to formal wear and all things classified as girly.

And the dress code for tonight was a strict one. Girls had to wear dresses and guys a suit. The only exception was Shoji and that was only because no company could ever tailor a suit right to accommodate his dupi-arms.

You hunched down further, trying to make yourself smaller but it didn't do any good as a firm grip encircled your wrist and yanked you out from your terrible hiding place.

"I can still fucking see you." Bakugou seethed, sparks popping in the palms of his hands and you smiled nervously.

"Uh... Ah!! Wait—" Your objections were cut short when he dragged you away from the others. "Where are we going?!"

Yaoyorozu and Jirou exchanged a sympathetic look with each other.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Yaoyorozu asked softly, her eyes worried.

Todoroki appeared beside her and sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. "They will be fine but perhaps we should give them a minute so Bakugou can collect himself."

"Iida-kun, is dinner ready?" Midoriya asked to take the attention off the two of you as the prospect of food was brought up and the former class rep vigorously nodded.

"Affirmative!!" He shouted, thrusting his hand high in the air to gather everyone as his old classmates started to drift towards him. "Let us sit in groups of four to make it easy for the staff to clean up, Class A!!"

Kaminari elbowed Shinsou in the ribs, interrupting his conversation with Tsuyu. "Do we still have to do what he says even though he's not the boss of us anymore?"

Shinsou sighed, running his hands through his hair and Tsuyu had a suspicion that it wasn't the first time he had asked this. "Yes, Kaminari. Because if you don't, you probably won't get to eat."

Kaminari's jaw dropped all the way to the floor but he recovered in a second, racing to his seat.

Tsuyu tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully as she and Shinsou began to follow the overzealous blond to the tables that Iida was seating everyone at. "Do you really think Iida-chan would stop him?"

Shinsou chuckled, giving her one of his rare smiles as he pulled out the seat for her before sitting down himself at the table that held a fidgeting Kaminari and nervous-looking Kirishima.

Crooking a finger, he motioned her to come closer so he could whisper it without him hearing. "Nah, but it's fun to mess with him."

Tsuyu giggled, waving at Ochako and Mina from the other table since the six round tables were set up relatively close to each other in the huge ballroom, forming a circle.

They were currently towards the front where all the appetizers on tables lined with white cloth were served before the main course. Then, there was some kind of game set up on the adjacent side that looked like beer pong and the empty space at the back took up the majority of the ballroom was left alone as a dance floor for the upbeat music that would resume later on.

With a flick of her earphone jack, Jirou changed the playlist to classical and lowered the volume just as the food was coming out.

Mineta complained that the music was too slow and boring for his taste but he didn't argue anymore when Jirou silently threatened to electrocute him. Shoji coughed into his hand and grinned at the girl's spunk while Yaoyorozu just smiled.

Koda was signing to Aoyama. Even though he had gotten more comfortable talking with all of them, everyone's chatter was making it hard to hear, so as he relayed details about his latest mission, Ojiro was engaged in a discussion with Sato about whether or not food coloring was necessary in modern day society when more and more ingredients were being revealed to be unhealthy in nature.

Sero was trying to teach Hagakure how to fold a napkin into a swam while Todoroki and Tokoyami talked about the latest hero news after exchanging pleasantries.

And Midoriya, Ochako, Mina and Iida filled up table five. Which left just the one for the two who had yet to sit in their seats.

Iida shook with restraint before abruptly standing up to shout for you and Bakugou who were still talking in the far corner about something he couldn't hear but Midoriya caught his arm and eased him back down.

The food had just come out and it was hot. He had helped Iida order food for tonight so he knew it was going to be good.

Each table got five different kinds of entrées to share, hence why they could only fit four people at each table instead of five like Iida had initially planned since the piping hot food coming out from the kitchen was monstrous and would take up a ton of space.

Wagyu beef, fugu, kujira, basashi, otoro, fresh-steamed vegetables and even yubari melon for a refreshing taste was set down on gold-rimmed platters and left to be ravished by the hungry people eyeing it like some sort of animal.

Everyone was hungry, and Midoriya knew you wouldn't mind if you guys started ahead so he opened it up to his fellow heroes, and even though he knew Kacchan might say something about it later, he still clapped his hands together and dug in.

Some of them, like Kaminari, Aoyama and surprisingly Tsuyu followed his lead and tore in right away, while others like Tokoyami, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were too busy with their own conversations to be bothered with the food at the moment.

Kaminari stopped stuffing his mouth long enough to glance at Kirishima out of the corner of his eye.

"What's the matter?" He asked and with his cheeks stuffed full it was a little hard to hear him but Kirishima got his point.

His brow drew together worriedly. "They kind of look like they're arguing."

It was true. You did look like you were engaged in a heated spat with Bakugou, but Kirishima was way off.

Ten feet away, you planted your hands firmly on your hips and glared at him as your voice rose an octave. "Excuse me?!"

Bakugou barely stopped in time from snapping his teeth at you. At this point, he was going to rip out his hair if you didn't concede and admit that he was right. "You fucking heard me."

Your mouth pressed in a hard line. "I can't believe you would say that."

A beat of tense silence passed and then you exploded.

You threw up your hands in frustration. "Aizawa's would clearly beat All Might in a battle, he can erase his quirk for crying out loud!!"

"All Might was the Number 1 Hero." Bakugou ground out angrily through gritted teeth. "And he's as strong as shit even without his quirk."

"Not everything is about strength!!" You fired back but he wasn't done.

He continued to go on a rant just to prove to you that All Might would be the one to fucking beat your old homeroom teacher if they ever versed each other in a one on one battle.

How you got here, you had no idea.

It started with him dragging you away and before he spun you around and backed you into a corner, demanding to know just what was being said about him.

After dangling tease after tease at him, the stiffness in his shoulders wasn't lost on you and you told him flat out that you three had just been commenting on his temper when he looked your way, making the timing seem like he had heard you and you found it hilarious.

Bakugou's expression crumpled as he realized he had gotten it wrong and let insecurity get the best of him, to which his eyes shot open when he realized he had said that last part out loud.

You were faster than him though, as you reassured that it was okay to be feeling that way and apologized for teasing him before he could even say a word to amend his mistake.

It had then transitioned to him quietly asking why you stopped outside of the door before you went inside and you paused before hesitantly revealing that it was because you had a fleeting thought that you didn't actually look as good as you thought you did and he frowned.

Your eyes rounded as wide as saucers as he went off on you, fucking you over for thinking that and telling you straight up that you were fucking stunning.

It was doing bad things to your heart as it flopped pathetically in your rib cage and your hands automatically went up to cover your cheeks which you were sure were bright red.

Bakugou didn't touch you but his eyes scorched into you with such conviction that you eventually lowered them yourself and thanked him softly for saying that to you.

To which he scoffed and said it was obvious and that he'd have to be fucking blind not to see you.

Cue more blood rushing to your face.

From there, the conversation went from insecurities to a short story you brought up when Aizawa had helped you boost your self-confidence and Bakugou retorted with his own story of All Might when he stopped him from annihilating Deku in Ground Beta in your first year of high school.

Things only got more competitive as you shot back that Aizawa had helped him too on countless occasions, the hothead countering by bringing up the time All Might saved you single-handedly when you had gotten captured in a fight.

Knowing your hands were tied for that particular instance, you shifted it back to Aizawa's strengths and Bakugou retorted with All Might's own.

And that's where you ended up. Having a staring contest while the rest of your old classmates watched raptly from the sidelines and wondered just what had got you both so worked up.

"Admit your defeat, dumbass." Bakugou grinned cockily, sticking his face in yours. "And then you can fucking get your shit."

Your eyes flickered up to his since even though you were wearing heels, you were still shorter than him. A hint of mischief glimmered in your eyes as a smile played upon your lips.

"Actually, I think you lost this round, Boom Boy."

Before he got a chance to open his mouth and object to that ridiculous nickname you had given him from your youth, you ducked under his arm and made a break for it towards the tables.

"Fucking— GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!!" He yelled after you, breaking into a sprint but you were too far ahead of him.

You ducked behind Iida for protection and he stood up tall, unwavering as Bakugou skidded to a halt.

"Bakugou!! That's enough!!" Iida shouted, holding his hand out for him to stop as he tried to get around him.

The whole class watched and waited to see what he would do, slurping on food obnoxiously while they all waited.

"Tch." Bakugou smirked, grounding his fist into the palm of his hand as it lit up. "Is that a fucking challenge?!"

"NO!!!" Iida thundered, clearing his throat and repositioning his glasses as he collected himself. "Now, the two of you need to sit down and eat. We are behind schedule."

"There's a schedule?" You whispered to Bakugou as you crept out from behind the safety of Iida's back. "Did you know about this?"

He snorted, putting out his explosion with a huff. "Damn right."

You tilted your head but followed him obediently to the only available table piled high with food that had luckily not gone cold.

Bakugou hid a smile as he saw you wiggle in your seat out of the corner of his eye, clicking his tongue in annoyance when you happened to look his way.

Of fucking course you would still look so damn cute when you were excited.

Since he was fucking starving, he ate with gusto, but only after he made sure you were actually going to eat.

Due to the side effects of using your quirk, it sometimes made you nauseous and you have had trouble keeping food down ever since you threw up on the first day of school.

He knew that most heavily seasoned dishes you had more of a difficulty keeping down so he wasn't surprised when he saw you go for the soup out of all the things you could've picked from.

Lively conversation filled the air, gossip and talk about the latest modifications to your hero costumes all the rage as topics blended into everyone's tables since they were all in close proximity to one another.

At least, most of them.

Since you had come late to dinner, you had a gut feeling that your classmates all ganged up on you and Bakugou, shoving the two of you here together.

The girls knew of your crush on him. It came out one night when you guys were playing truth or dare, like everyone did back in the day, and Hagakure and Mina hadn't let you forget it since then.

But what you didn't know was that the same could be said for Bakugou.

Fucking Shitty Hair did this on purpose. Bakugou raged inwardly while you remained blissfully unaware of the rampage going on beneath the surface. I fucking knew it was a bad idea to tell him about it.

He had asked his best friend for advice on what to get you for your birthday when you were in your second year and to say the very least, it wasn't hard for Kirishima to piece it together.

Fucking hell. The shit he gave him for it made him instantly regret it and he stormed out with pink cheeks, determined to find you the perfect gift on his own, thinking that this year would finally be the year that you noticed him and saw him in the same light that he saw you in.

Nope.

You had gotten sick on your birthday and by the time you healed, your birthday had come and gone and nobody said anything about it so he never gave it to you, throwing it away after another week passed and it was clear he didn't have the courage to give it to you.

You looked up at him, mouth resembling a chipmunk's as you chewed on the food you had been looking forward to all day. "Whasthematferwifyu?"

Bakugou choked. "What the fuck?!"

When you opened your mouth to speak again, he snapped at you, "Fucking finish chewing or you'll choke, dumbass!!"

"You mean like you just did?" You asked cheekily as you swallowed and he glared at you.

"Shut the fuck up."

"M'kay~" You sang.

Banter between you two was few and far in between since you two had bickered already for a good portion of the evening. The fight was called a draw for the time being as it was put on pause to fill your bellies with good food and you had to say, you were glad you came.

Dinner wrapped up after another hour and one by one, everyone started to trickle onto the dance floor.

Everyone except for Bakugou, who was at the drinks table and glaring at each bottle of alcohol that he picked through, and you and Kirishima, who had halted you when you moved to join Ochako and Tsuyu, was breaking it down to Jirou's EDM music she put together for tonight.

Kaminari was already drunk. You didn't know how that was possible but based off of the way he was playing with Ojiro's tail, refusing to detach from it even after he politely asked him to let go, you could conclude as such pretty confidently.

You followed Kirishima curiously as he led you away from everyone else, interest piqued when he brought you to where the appetizers that were previously were being replaced with desserts and your confusion grew when he inched as far to the wall as he possibly could.

"Kiri?" You questioned. "Why are we—"

"Shh!!!" He shushed quickly, waving his hands frantically, his eyes darting everywhere as though he was about to tell you something that could land him in jail.

Or worse.

He motioned you to come closer so that nobody else would hear and you scooted towards him, until his mouth was right by your ear.

And then, your jaw dropped in shock.

"WHATTTTT?!?!" You shrieked and Kirishima hushed you hurriedly, smiling apologetically at a skeptical Bakugou who looked your way due to your volume.

You took a hint but your outrage didn't fade. "What the fuck, Kiri?! Why didn't you tell me this sooner?!"

Red Riot had just oh so kindly informed you that it was in fact, Bakugou's birthday.

Today.

If what he told you was the truth, which at this point you really didn't know, Mina, Sero and Kaminari were the only other ones who knew. You wouldn't put it past Midoriya to also be included in that group, seeing as how they were childhood friends who moved past their intense rivalry stage and developed a decent amount of healthy competition as pros.

But that still didn't explain why he was telling you this now.

Oh wait.

Shit.

If that was true, then you had barged into his room uninvited because you didn't want to sleep in the same room as Mineta, on his birthday.

You cursed yourself under your breath and without another word, you tore past Kirishima with a hurried apology and a half-assed excuse to pardon your abrupt exit and sprinted towards the elevators, your heart pounding. You didn't stop running until you reached the room, grabbing all your things and throwing them in your suitcase, thoughts running wild at how stupid you could be.

You hadn't even bothered to take off your dress before gathering your things hastily, you were that distracted.

As you stuffed the last of your things in your bag, you circled the room, realizing you now didn't know the next step to this plan of yours.

You really should've thought this through before you came upstairs and talked to one of the receptionists downstairs to see if another arrangement can be made. Or maybe you could persuade one of the girls to let you crash for one night until you could figure things out for the next day.

You were sure Yaoyorozu would concede if you begged hard enough.

But you didn't want to take a chance of Bakugou seeing you so you didn't linger in the lobby, which was in clear view of where the party was being held.

This was bad, you didn't have anywhere to go. You would need to go talk to someone for another room which means you have to go back downstairs.

Well, maybe not. Maybe you could call downstairs and have them—

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

You froze at the temperamental voice seething with fury and dropped the hotel phone you had grabbed in the heat of the moment, squeaking when you saw how livid Bakugou looked and tripped over your feet, falling backwards onto the bed.

Your body bounced as it hit the mattress and you covered your face as he strode toward you, and you bolted back up to your feet, mumbling through your fingers.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea it was your birthday today!!!" You squeaked, mortified you had been acting so casually on such an important day. You didn't even have a present for him and you gave him overcooked food after trampling on his privacy!!

Leaning against the doorway, Bakugou raised an eyebrow and scoffed irritably as he put the pieces together for himself. "Shitty Hair should've fucking kept his mouth shut."

"I didn't know!!" You cried out, mistaking his rage geared towards his best friend for barging in on his personal space even after he so clearly told you off when he first saw you. Like an idiot, you had thought that he really didn't mind.

Maybe you couldn't read him as well as you thought you could.

"I don't care." Bakugou snarled, annoyed that you didn't seem to get it after all this time as he stomped forward, closing the door behind him and clicking the lock with finality as you tried to scramble past him. "Where do you think you're going, shithead? I didn't say you could fucking leave."

You did a double take and blinked slowly, unsure you really heard him right. It was true you hadn't considered that a possibility, this was Bakugou you were talking about. He hated everybody.

Well, not really, but close enough to make it so that you were sure that he wanted his privacy.

Especially on his birthday.

"I-I—"

Bakugou rolled his eyes irritably. You didn't get it. Fucking fine.

Your eyes shot open as he smashed his lips onto yours but before you even had a chance to do anything about it, shove him off or pull him closer, though it was more likely the latter, he was gone.

Standing with an indifferent expression on his face, he loomed over you and your heart leapt in your throat.

"Holy— Is this real?" You asked breathlessly, fingers tentatively reaching out to run over his tie and make sure you weren't dreaming.

Bakugou smirked at the awe in your voice and it only grew bigger when he noticed how glassy your eyes looked. So he did have the same fucking effect on you that you did on him.

Good.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He declared, crowding you closer as he stepped forward, hot breath puffing out against your lips and you shivered.

You blinked slowly, looking up at him from under your lashes. "... And if I don't want you to?"

"Fuck—" Was all Bakugou got out before he was surging forward, grabbing your shoulders so you couldn't escape.

A muffled squeak tumbled from your lips before it was smothered and you gasped into his mouth as your knees hit the edge of the bed.

As you fell, Bakugou climbed onto the bed and pinned you to the mattress, never once breaking the kiss as he cushioned your fall. His hands fell to your waist as the other entwined in your hair and he let out a groan as you playfully nipped his bottom lip.

"Shit," He breathed when you broke away first, lungs burning with the need for oxygen but you had barely taken a breath when he tilted your jaw back towards him and connected your lips again, harder this time.

It was hot, too hot and he moved languidly in a way that contrasted so starkly with his short-tempered personality that it made your head spin.

"W-What?!" You exclaimed in shock as soon as he drew back to let you breathe, your hands covering your flushed cheeks despite the fact that he could still see you due to the proximity. "Where did that even come from?!"

You were all flustered now and your dress had slipped down a bit further, giving him a peek of what was to come if he didn't stop soon.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. If you didn't get it now, you were even more of an idiot than he thought.

"You can stay." He mumbled gruffly, dropping his gaze from yours.

It took a minute to understand what he was saying.

Coming to your senses, you grinned as you processed his words. He didn't say no outright to what you asked directly so you would take it. The hesitance had all been reduced to a trickle as it caused a hiccup in your thoughts but you tried to see it in a different light.

Maybe he really didn't mind, he wasn't one to lie, especially for no reason. Maybe he was feeling lonely and wanted company for tonight.

Maybe... he liked you too? Was that too far-fetched to believe?

"Really?" You smirked as you waggled your eyebrows at him. "You want someone to keep you warm tonight?

Bakugou flipped you off and you burst out laughing. Wiping tears from your eyes as you calmed down after a few moments, you grinned.

"I had no idea you could be so soft, Bakugou." You teased lightly.

He scowled angrily and sat up, folding his arms over his chest as he stared down at you. "Shut up, you don't make it fucking easy."

You were being such a fucking nuisance. He regretted saying anything in the first place. Who had so many questions after somebody kissed them?

Your eyes glinted mischievous. "Oh yeah?"

He did something you didn't expect.

"Yeah..." Bakugou trailed off quietly, something resembling fondness flickering in the depths of his vermilion eyes.

Your heart started to beat faster and you swallowed. His face was a millimeter away from yours and it was getting harder to breath. His body temperature was so high that you could feel the heat emitting from his form and engulfing you like a warm hug.

"When did it start?" You asked softly, curiosity winning out against the flutter of embarrassment you felt in your chest.

He didn't say it out loud but he didn't have to. You could see it in his eyes that same love that you held for him. How you went all this time without seeing it, you didn't know.

Bakugou's throat bobbed as he dodged your inquisitive gaze, his eyes only darting back to you when you sat upright and smoothed your dress as best as you possibly could to prevent it from wrinkling.

"I dunno." He mumbled quietly. "Since high school or some shit."

"High school?!" You shrieked in disbelief, nearly falling over as you realized it had started around the same time your feelings for him developed. You expected him to say within the last few months when you’ve been working together more frequently, not that he started liking you back at UA!!

He groaned at your grating volume against his ears. Too loud.

"Well hell if I know, shitty woman." He growled loudly. "I can't fucking remember everything."

You grin widened. "That sounds like denial~"

His mouth twisted back in an irritated frown. You were crazy. But somehow, that didn't put him off as much as he claimed to believe.

"It was after the training camp."

You bolted upright at that. You were not expecting him to say that.

After you two were stolen by the League right out from underneath your classmates' noses, you two were put in separate rooms until it was clear you refused to listen to what you had to say until you saw that Bakugou was okay.

He knew, the second they brought you in all chained to the chair and shit just like he was, that he was going to raise hell and murder every single last one of them.

He couldn't go ballistic yet, because as your tired but alert eyes met his from across the room, he knew that this setup increased your chances.

All you needed was an opening.

Shigaraki and Dabi had turned their attention on your first, trying to recruit you and you had tricked them, pretending to sympathize with their cause and got them to trust you by feeding Shigaraki's dark nature and Dabi's sadistic side.

You took their attention off of him and damn it, if it wasn't the bravest and baddest fucking move he'd ever seen.

The both of you had your own nightmares from that terrifying experience.

You couldn't stand to be restrained after that, even if it was only for a second, and Bakugou hated having anything touch his neck.

After he finished telling you all of that, you tackled him in a hug.

Bakugou's hand shot out to catch himself as the two of you toppled over before you crashed to the ground and he muttered a curse into your hair when you nuzzled into his chest.

"Dumbass." He remarked under his breath, hoping you couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding. "What about you?"

"Hmmm?" You hummed, momentarily forgetting what it was that you were talking about since all you could think about now was how his eyes shone with unshed tears as he relieved that terrible memory. But the fact that you were able to give him some small sense of comfort even though you were truthfully freaking out on the inside at the time, was the best thing he could've ever told you.

Well, right next to the depth of his feelings for you.

Bakugou scoffed and scooted forward so that the two of you were teetering on the edge of the mattress. A concussion was not how he wanted tonight to end.

"Tell me when all of your shitty feelings started." He demanded with a blush present on his cheeks and you bit your lip to contain a giggle.

Laying your head on his chest, you idly traced patterns on his shirt since he had shed it outer jacket. "I don't know exactly when it turned from a crush into actual love, but when you got hospitalized, I supposed I realized it then."

Bakugou jerked, stiffening as you mentioned the incident no one ever brought up.

Taking note of his reaction, you affirmed quietly. "We don't have to talk about it, but that's when it started. When I saw how close I could've been to losing you."

Bakugou's heavy breath eased up bit by bit as those words fell from your lips and he closed his eyes. He wasn't ready to talk about it now, but he thought that he would like to one day. If you were still by his side.

The next twenty minutes were spent entangled in each other's embrace as you two made up for lost time, talking about anything and everything came to mind.

Your old infatuation with Shindou that was short-lived because of your feelings for him and Bakugou couldn't help gloating that you were his even then.

How much he longed that he had confessed sooner. Maybe then you would've had those years together.

But he didn't dwell on it, he knew that it would become one of his demons if he lived in the past instead of the present and instead focused on combing his fingers through your hair, reveling in your closeness.

He hummed lowly as he caught a whiff of your fragrance. "Banana and citrus, huh?"

You beamed up at him, twisting around to look at him properly. "You gave it to me!!"

Bakugou smirked, hooking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Damn right I did."

After realizing that the two of you couldn't cuddle forever in your formal wear, you reluctantly untangled from him and started to take off your dress, only to find out that you couldn't do that without his help.

Your breath caught in your throat when he came to stand right behind you, just like before, only this time he was much closer to you, fingertips ghosting over your bare skin in the zipper's wake as he trailed light kisses down your back until he reached the curve of the small of your back.

You whined when he stopped and a smirk curved against the juncture where your shoulder met your neck and you swatted at him playfully.

Bakugou made you sit down so he could take your shoes off before you fell and broke something.

You pouted but did as you were told, quite liking how his calloused hands skimmed over your shins and ankles, and you gasped when he pressed a chaste kiss to your knee.

"Stop teasing me." You whined and he flashed you a grin, tossing your shoes somewhere else.

Bakugou relished in your flustered state, loving how he could make you like this with barely any effort. "It's your fucking turn now, shithead."

"Hey!!"

It was only until after Bakugou had gotten dressed in comfy clothes of his choice, a pair of sweatpants and a tight-fitted long sleeve that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, did you realize it was getting colder and colder by the minute.

The heater was broken and after multiple attempts of tinkering with the settings to get it to start, Bakugou was about to set the thing on fire, but you stopped him just in time.

"Shitty heater." He muttered frustratingly, his palms still popping with sparks. "Fucking five stars my ass."

He threw a tantrum for another minute before giving up, not even bothering to call downstairs to get them to fix it because he didn't want anyone in his 'personal space'. Oddly enough, you felt kind of happy that he was letting you in his personal space without any a fight.

You giggled and he raised an eyebrow at you after throwing you his hoodie, begrudgingly, but he still did it so you weren't complaining about the temperature. "It's just, I never imagined you'd be the one to confess."

He turned to you, a mix of irritation and poorly suppressed puzzlement on his face. "Hah?"

You bit back a smile at his tamed reaction. How cute.

"It's just in all the scenarios in my head," You drew your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top. "I was always the one confessing to you and then getting rejected."

Bakugou scoffed, stomping over to you with a slight pout that would've been unnoticeable if the light was any dimmer. The curtains had been drawn, basking the room in a warm glow that came from the fairy lights strung around the room that had you failed to notice earlier.

"Yeah, well, now fucking look what happened." He grumbled, flicking a piece of lint off your head. "You invaded my room like a cockroach or some shit."

You were sitting upright against the headboard on top of the velvet comforter without a care in the world as your sweater paws flapped playfully. In such a high-end hotel room, the two of you in casual attire looked sorely out of place but it didn't matter.

You were happier than ever before.

"Uh, excuse me, I take offense to that analogy." You teased back with a cheeky grin, shoving his shoulder when he crawled on the bed with you, abandoning his quest to fix the heater. "And I do recall mentioning how it was either this or Mineta's room, so it's not my fault."

Bakugou's mouth twisted into a scowl as you said the pervert's name and he huffed before looping his arms around your waist and laying flat on your legs. His head buried into your stomach, your eyes softened and you brushed the hair back from his eyes, his eyelids closing at the soothing sensation of you carding your fingers through his hair.

You hummed to yourself as he started drifting off. "Soft..."

"Fuck off." He mumbled into your waist but there was none of the usual venom to it.

Your chest shook with laughter at his unusual response but when you moved to stop just like he had ordered, he caught your wrist. You raised an eyebrow as he looked away from you, the red tint adorning his cheeks giving away what he wanted you to do and without a word, you obliged without so much as a hidden smile.

Bakugou sank into you, his broad shoulders going lax as all the tension melted from his body and he sighed peacefully. He hated socializing. The only good part of that reunion Raccoon-Eyes had coordinated was seeing you all dressed up.

He didn't tell you at the time, he honestly couldn't say it. He was fucking speechless the second you stepped out of the room.

But you looked like a vision underneath those flashy lights that hurt his eyes in the ballroom. You were absolutely stunning and put all of those other extras to shame. He didn't even spew an insult he was going to when he overheard Raccoon-Eyes squeal and proclaim how gorgeous you looked because she wasn't wrong.

You were beautiful. And way out of his league.

It was all he could think about all the way down the elevator and into the party, even after you broke off from him. At least, it was all he could think about until Dunce Face decided to make a move on you, being all suave and slick.

At the time, he was ready to storm over there and break it up until you laughed at something Kaminari said and he was painfully reminded of how you weren't his.

He then proceeded to drown all of his sorrows at the bar but cursed his inability to get shit-faced due to his high tolerance.

Exploding in a fit of rage over the culmination of how dazzling you were, how some guy was probably going to get lucky tonight and it wasn't going to be him, and how fucked up the situation was that you were going to be staying with him while he had a raging boner for you 24/7, he stalked upstairs to go pout in the corner only to find you stammering out apologies and packing your suitcase.

He vaguely remembered something about you saying something about his birthday and that's when he snapped.

To put it bluntly, he had never been a fan of celebrating useless holidays. People ate food and used it as an excuse to all gather in one place and socialize with all their fake friends, he hated scenes like that.

Which is why he was against this reunion at first but something in the back of his mind convinced him to come. Something that said that if he showed up, there was a good chance that you would be here too and it would make all of this worth it.

And that was only confirmed when Kirishima slipped that little tidbit of information in his invitation via text.

Bakugou couldn't believe his luck when he walked into his hotel room and you were standing right there. There was something so soft, so domestic about it that had him dropping his bag instantaneously and he fought to rein in his instincts to stride over to you and hug you from behind. He would rest his chin on your shoulder and ask what you were cooking, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as he hinted at what he wanted to do before the kids came home.

That was the type of future he had always envisioned with you. The one he always thought would be unobtainable. The one that he constantly dreamed about anytime he got a break from the nightmares and darkness that plagued his thoughts constantly.

And now you were all his. All of that was suddenly possible. He had a chance with the best thing that ever walked into his life and he wasn't going to screw it up.

Realistically, and he was a very realistic person despite being short-tempered, he knew he was getting ahead of himself. Take it slow, he had to tell himself to take it slow.

You hummed, bringing him back down to reality. "Where's that head of yours at?"

"Fuck off and die."

But his threat came out muffled as his face was currently nuzzled into your stomach and you couldn't stop the fit of laughter that burst out as you giggled uncontrollably, laughing even harder when he looked up to glare at you, only for his eyes to be so glazed over from how relaxed he was that you would've mistaken it for subspace if not for his mouth twitching irritably.

"Aw, is baby maybe a little comfy?"

He hissed and untangled himself from you, pouting like a little kid as he created some distance between you two. "I'm not a fucking baby."

You cooed and pinched his cheeks, pulling them apart slightly and giggled at how squishy he looked in that moment. "Dummy."

Bakugou snorted arrogantly but didn't shove you off despite his hard glare. "The only dumbass here is you."

"I didn't say dumbass, I said dummy." You corrected matter-of-factly. "And besides, it's a term of endearment, Katsuki."

He rolled his eyes but his heart trembled dangerously as he heard his given name fall from your lips so sweetly for the first time. He would never get tired of hearing that.

Bakugou cleared his throat and removed your hands from his face, your forlorn pout not passing by unnoticed.

"Fucking idiot." He mumbled under his breath, bringing a hand up to rest it on your head briefly as he leaned his forehead against yours for a second.

You grinned, a full-blown smile that caused his heart to skip a beat at how radiant you were. And then, he got an idea.

But you were surprised when he suddenly got up and tilted your head curiously when he exited the room.

Unlike before when you were so quick to jump to a conclusion, you assumed he had a reason for leaving so abruptly without explanation.

The gears turned in your head as you followed him out, bringing the blanket with for good measure because you were freezing. Until the maintenance could get here, you would have to deal with the chill. Apparently this was an issue that didn't just pertain to you.

Todoroki had texted you and said he was having issues with his too, along with some others who had filed out from the ballroom to crash in their own rooms for the night.

But waiting wasn't too hard. Perhaps you could persuade your new boyfriend to cuddle you.

You poked your head around the corner, growing even more puzzled as Bakugou stomped around, grabbing his keys first before hunting for something else.

"What are you doing?" You asked, unable to quell your curiosity and bewilderment.

He threw an embellished pillow back down on the couch as soon as he checked under it. "I don't know where I put my fucking wallet."

You laughed at his grumble and patted his chest with a wink. "Wait here."

Bakugou eyed you suspiciously as burrito-you darted off back towards the bedroom but his expression cleared up when you came racing back with the slim wallet in your hand, thankfully leaving behind the blanket as you caught onto what he was doing. He took it silently, frustrated with himself for not checking his coat pocket first to save him of this embarrassment.

"Thank you." He mumbled as he turned away. He felt like he was ten again, that's how damn shy he was when it came to you.

A broad grin spread from ear to ear on your face.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked cheekily and he scowled.

"I didn't fucking say anything!!" He exploded, grabbing your wrist and stomping towards the door. "Hurry up, we're leaving."

"Eh?!" You protested but didn't fight him. "Where are we going?"

You were only wearing shorts and his hoodie over your thickest thermal. Since it was warm outside, you hadn't bothered to pack any extra layer and you shivered as a chill ran down your spine. Yup, definitely couldn't wait to go back outside.

"None of your damn business." Bakugou spat as he dragged you out of the room and locked the door.

You continued to pepper him with questions, increasing your pitch when you saw how his nose twitched every single time you annoyed him.

Adorable.

By the time you got back down to the first floor, you were clinging to his arm, teeth chattering from the air conditioning, and he was facing away from you in a manner that clearly stated he regretted bringing you along.

"You love me~" You teased.

"Shut the fuck up. Like hell anyone would like a dumbass like you." He seethed but still didn't pry you off despite him claiming all those things.

You giggled, skipping on ahead. Once you got outside, you spun around on your heel, jutting out your hip. The warmth of the night air was refreshing and you took in a deep breath, smiling widely.

"Where are we going?!" You asked excitedly, trailing behind him as he started walking away, catching up and almost tripping in the process.

Bakugou caught your arm in a flash as you tipped forward, an angry frown etched on his face but you merely beamed at him and thanked him for catching you.

He turned away with a scoff but grabbed your hand to make sure it didn't happen again. "You're fucking clumsy."

Your smile widened as you detected the tiniest bit of worry underlying his sharp tone and you squeezed his hand, heart skipping a beat when he tucked you underneath his arm.

For safety purposes, you assumed.

You snuggled into his side with a blissful sigh. He was so much warmer than you were, it felt so good.

Bakugou spared you a glance out of the corner of his eye and his chest swelled with pride at the eyes that turned, undoubtedly seeing how unashamed you were to be with him. Holy All Might, you were perfect.

The Solaria Hotel was only a five minute walk away from Lunchrush's Grocery Store, a rather huge chain store that had establishments all over Japan, owned by the hero himself. The same hero whose delicious cooking you guys had lived off of for a blessed three years.

"What are we doing here?" You quipped as your eyes widened the moment you strolled in and took in the vibrant colors of all the produce and many packages that lined the shelves.

"I'm not paying shit for that overpriced room service." Bakugou stated flatly as he tossed you a bundle of carrots he just selected.

Your eyes widened as you quickly caught on. "We're going to be cooking?!"

He snorted, sifting through the produce section to find what he was looking for, weeding out the ones that were no good. "No shit, dumbass."

"Hey!!" You protested but carried on without complaint.

The kitchen in your room was fully equipped with all the amenities. Top of the grade appliances and sterling silverware made you feel like you were going to break something initially but that faded pretty fast as your excitement won over. The only thing it was missing was the food.

You had bought ingredients to make a simple stew on the way to the hotel and stored the leftovers in the large fridge.

The Solaria Hotel did offer pre-organized food boxes that came with various delicious ingredients to make it easy on whoever bought it but they were outrageously priced. Hence why you were now browsing the aisles with a disgruntled Bakugou instead of just purchasing one of those.

But you were definitely not going to complain. One of those boxes could drain your entire month's rent in one go and you were told that the portion sizes weren't very big either.

Definitely not worth it.

You would think that since he was the one to bring you here, he would be more enthusiastic, but no. He was more interested in having a staring contest with the brat at the end of the aisle who was making faces at him as soon as he grabbed the last of the things he needed.

You tugged on his arms, trying and failing to get him to break eye contact with the little boy he was glaring to death.

"Katsuki, c'mon," You begged, losing a battle against that ridiculously fit physique of his. You guys were attracting all kinds of unwanted attention from other shoppers and the mom of the little boy was getting a little curious as to the silent competition going on. "Let's just go."

"No way." He gritted out, never once looking away. "This damn brat needs to learn his f—"

He didn't get to finish the rest of his sentence as you forcibly dragged him away to the cash registers. You shook your head as he scowled and crossed his arms stubbornly. He was such a child sometimes.

Bakugou was so busy pouting that you had dragged him away and made him lose by default that he didn't notice you were already paying for the groceries.

"Oi." He barked at you as you hustled outside with the sky painted dark as night. Only the street lamps and lights hitched up outside the strip mall illuminated the area. "Oi!!"

You flashed him a grin. "Yes, Katsuki?"

He rolled his eyes at the innocent lilt in your voice, acting as if you didn't know exactly what you did. You weren't supposed to pay for anything, he was supposed to be treating you.

"But it's your birthday~" You sang. "And I wanted to!!"

"Tch." He whipped his head around, dodging you as you followed him around playfully.

You were like a dog and he was the bone. He wasn't sure he liked that analogy as much as what it implied.

As soon as you pushed through the grand doors of the lavish hotel, you bumped into someone and sent them crashing to the ground.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry— Wait," You gawked in astonishment at the wasted man before you. "Kirishima?!"

He groaned and rubbed his head. He was sent sprawling after you bumped into him, catching the attention of Mina who was strolling by with a half-conscious Sero on her arm.

"Kirishima, what are you doing?!" Mina exclaimed as she bounded over just as you were helping him up after setting Sero down and making sure that he wasn't going to move. She looked the most awake out of all of them. "Don't run off ahead like that!!"

Bakugou didn't do a thing, choosing to only tap his foot impatiently while he waited for you to be done attending to his shitty best friend.

"L/N!!" He slurred and it was then that you realized he was more than a bit tipsy. "I'm soooooo sorry for not telling you about Bakugou's birthday earlier, it was totally my bad."

You raised an eyebrow at hearing him speak in such an unusual way. Alcohol certainly did things to the brain.

Kirishima clapped his hand on your shoulder, ignoring Sero's whining for him to come back as he peeled Mina away from you three, telling her that he was fine.

Lowering his voice, Kirishima wiggled his eyebrows at you comically and caused you to giggle.

"So... how did Bakugou react when ya told him?" He asked in a whisper that was a lot louder than his drunken mind probably intended.

You flushed as Bakugou's inquisitive gaze fixated on you.

"I'm right here, Shitty Hair." He droned, completely uninterested in the way that this conversation was going.

Kirishima's head snapped up at hearing his voice for the first time and though his dilated pupils had a hard time focusing, he eventually managed to do it and a wide, toothy grin spread from ear to ear.

"Bakubro!!" He drunkenly cheered, throwing his arms out and running towards him.

Bakugou scowled, shoving him away as he went to hug him. "Don't fucking call me that."

Kirishima pouted and whined sadly.

"Awwww but you call me Weird Hair all the time." He complained.

Bakugou grinned. "That's because your hair is a shitty color."

"Hey!!" Kirishima's eyes watered and his lower lip trembled. He burst into tears, clinging to you as you drifted back to Bakugou's side.

Mina's golden irises glinted. "Sooooo, does this mean you guys are together?"

You blushed at the brazen implication and sheepishly nodded, unsure of what else to do.

Bakugou stepped in. He slung his arm around your shoulder, uncaring that he now had a much larger audience now that Midoriya, Iida, Ochako, Tsuyu, Shinsou and Shoji decided to venture outside, others coming out in a steady trickle as the night wrapped up.

You huddled closer to his side, hiding your face in his shoulder, growing nervous at all your friends gathering for reasons you'd rather not voice. You weren't sure how Bakugou would take this, if he would deny you in front of all of them.

He didn't seem like the type but a previous ex had been ashamed of you before so now you were wary. Rightfully so, the guy was a complete prick.

You hadn't dated for very long but it was impactful. The guy hadn't gotten close to your heart but the fact that he wasn't big on physical affection and never wanted to hold your hand in public sent the message that he didn't want to be seen with you.

That had never really sat well with you.

You didn't mind at first. After all, you understood that people had different love languages but he put in absolutely no effort to understand yours. But after a while, it was tiring contributing to a relationship that wasn't reciprocated.

You glanced up at Bakugou as he pulled you in tighter to his side.

"Listen up." He stated roughly, making sure everyone was paying attention. "She's my girl now, so don't you extras try any shit."

Bakugou practically smirked proudly as he stared pointedly at a sheepish-looking Kaminari hiding behind an indifferent Jirou. He was rubbing it in his face for the balls he had to flirt with you earlier.

But that didn't make his declaration any less true or genuine. He was proud to have you by his side, even now more than ever as the two of you explored this new part of your life together.

Hagakure and Ochako squealed at his declaration of love and if it was possible, you reddened even further. But you couldn't kid anyone. You felt like you were flying.

Hiding your face in your hands, your embarrassment came out muffled. "Katsuki..."

He snorted at your shyness, then steered you towards the elevators with you tucked under his arm without so much as a wave of farewell to your friends. He saw your knees knocking together, he knew you were fucking cold, so time to go.

You wiggled, shooting the girls an apologetic smile and laughed loudly as Sero and Kaminari obnoxiously whooped and hollered after you two.

Bakugou flipped them the bird, hiding a proud smile when their drunken cheers only grew louder as Kirishima and Shinsou joined in.

"Oi." He poked you cheek as you didn't lift your face away from your new hiding spot to spare you of any more mortification. "Wake the fuck up, shithead."

A cheeky mumble emerged from where your cheek was ordered up against his shirt. "Is that any way to treat your girlfriend?"

"It is when you're being a dumbass." He retorted flatly.

"Hey!!" You cried out indignantly.

You rode the elevator up, squabbling incessantly the entire way there, drawing odd looks from a few of the other guests that you passed but that paled in comparison to your wide smiles and the satisfied smirk permanently plastered on Bakugou's face.

You were having way too much fun to care about anything else.

Once you made it back to your room successfully, you got to work right away.

Giddy over the fact that he had shown you off and high on the endorphins him claiming you in front of all your friends and fellow colleagues brought you had made you extremely hungry. Keeping up with all of Bakugou's newfound love that he was expressing had zapped your energy far more than you were willing to admit.

"Oi, you're shit at cooking." Bakugou said after a minute of watching you wreck everything in the kitchen.

"Don't yell at me!! I already know I suck at it!!" You whined childishly, throwing up the spatula in frustration.

Bakugou chuckled, plucking the wretched thing from your fingers and took over. You had managed to make soup earlier and not burn down the place in the process so he wasn't sure why stirring the pot was now such a big deal.

But he shook his head as he caught the glint of mischief in your eye. He knew that look. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Fuck, he was screwed. He never should've told you how long he had pined after you. But it was no use, he was too weak for you.

You balked at the soft expression on his face. He had never looked at you like that before.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were blurting out how him declaring that in front of all of your friends had made you so happy and at the downward curve of displeasure on Bakugou's face, you elaborated that you had someone who didn't make you feel very loved in the past.

You weren't sure why you were telling him this. It wasn't like it was exactly easy to say all of this out loud but after years of knowing him, you knew he was the last person who would judge you for feeling the way you were feeling.

So you spilled it all.

You squeaked in surprise as he caught you off guard once you finished, crushing you to his chest. Your hands lifted up and automatically looped around his neck, stumbling a bit as he backed you up against the counter.

"Katsuki?!" You exclaimed in astonishment at the sudden display of affection from the normally so standoffish guy.

"I will never be ashamed of you. You're stuck with me for fucking forever and I'll kill you if you say any other shit." Bakugou muttered into the crook of your neck.

You were moved at his expression of the feelings he had for you and clutched onto the back of his shirt, hugging him tight.

He stayed there, in the same position, pinning you to the counter of the kitchen in the hotel room you had come to share and embraced you until you peeled away.

Bakugou's eyes softened when you looked away from him and sniffled. It could be classified as very unladylike, the way you wiped your nose with the back of your hand, but he didn't give a damn.

You were his.

After all these years of pining after you, thinking that he would never be enough to have you, thinking that he would never amount to someone who deserved you, you were finally his.

His heart was going to explode but if he let that happen, he would have to deal with Shitty Hair, Dunce Face, Raccoon-Eyes and Flat Face for the rest of his fucking life and like hell he would put up with those irritating extras.

Even if they did kind of manage to bring you two together.

The table for two at dinner, your messed up reservation that left you without a place to crash and that dress Ponytail Girl had bought for you, it all added up. They had been planning this for years since they knew of the feelings you both held for each other.

All you needed was a push.

Whatever. There was no way he was going to give them credit for this. They would probably use it as blackmail at some point and he was not going to tolerate that.

He quickly finished up the home cooked meal, flipping open the cap to the soy sauce you bought and drizzled it on top, adding a few drops of sesame oil to complete it and shoved a plate in your direction to bring into the bedroom while he quickly did the dishes.

The midnight moon's light spilled into the room as you danced around Bakugou, carrying two plates full of warm food to the bed after you were done goofing around and pretending to drop them. Sheer silk curtains hanging from the canopy of the bed swished in your wake as you breezed by to open the french doors, setting the plates down on his nightstand before gliding across the balcony that you had missed upon your initial exploration of the room.

This place was so big, you wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of secret passageway in the closet that led to the other rooms.

The night air was pleasant and a welcome change of temperature as it soothed your chilly skin.

You smiled to yourself as Bakugou came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply. His heat encompassed you as he hugged you from behind and lightly kissed the spot just below your ear.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation and gasped when he pinched your side in retaliation.

"Katsuki~"

His given name still felt foreign on your tongue but you'd be damned if you didn't get used to it with the flustered reaction he never failed to give you.

"Don't fucking start with me, dumbass." He smirked, growling lowly. "I don't have a fucking problem with putting you in your place."

You cocked your head to the side, playing dumb, pretending you didn't know what that insinuation meant. "Oh?"

Bakugou groaned as the mood suddenly vanished. "Piss off."

Bakugou cracked a smile though when your easy laughter rang out. Yeah, it wasn't fair that he was left in a now uncomfortable situation but it was worth it to endure if he could hear that sound again.

Fuck, you were so precious.

The late night room service dished out by yours truly was served on the bed while you giggled underneath the covers, hiding from him and shrieking when he found you.

It was warm and fuzzy, the atmosphere easy and relaxed as you cuddled up to him and ate the food he made for you specifically so that it wouldn't make your stomach hurt.

Initially, he had declared that eating on the bed was going to be fucking dirty and messy if you spilled anything, which he was almost 100% sure you would, but gave into you when you transfixed your wide eyes on him, pleading for this one thing.

The two of you didn't look at each other while you ate, you didn't need to. The stolen glances between bites of food were enough as you shared idly and informal conversation to get to know each other better now that your feelings had been aired and returned by the other.

The quiet confession that rang out from you both was almost tear-jerking as he confessed he never thought he would get a chance to be with someone like you and you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, telling him that he deserved the world and more, and if one day you could give it to him, you would.

The heater had yet to be fixed but that didn't bother him anymore as he used the opportunity to gather you in his arms and hug you tight.

Yeah, you two needed to make up for lost time but for now, he was more than content to just let it be. Tangled with you, under the moon and the stars as he kissed you, he swore that he would never stop fighting for you, to protect you always and cherish you with all that he fucking had.

Because Bakugou Katsuki, the man who didn't need anything or anyone to go up against the toughest villains to date, fell to pieces when it came to you.

Bonus:

"I still can't believe you told me that so late. I could've gotten him a gift!!" You complained to Kirishima on the second day when he was hungover and groaning, throwing pillows at you to get you out of his room.

You managed to dodge every last one.

"I mean, I don't get it." You tapped a finger to your chin coyly as you smoothly sidestepped and twirled around two more he launched in your direction. He was going to run out of ammo at this point. "Why tell me so late? And if you guys already knew, then I'm surprised you didn't get anything for him or throw a party or something."

Sero groaned painfully in the corner, his head felt like it was going to split in two and he was quite certain it would if you didn't stop talking soon. "Y/N, it's so early."

"It's noon." You deadpanned, only for Sero to slap a pillow over his face and promptly fall back asleep.

"Y/N!!" Mina called out as she bustled back into the bedroom with a tray of tea. "Where did that boyfriend of yours run off to?"

You blushed as she said it so bluntly and coughed to hide it. "He's trying to get the heater thing sorted out."

Last night, you had been shivering so much that he had taken to warming you up other ways just to get your teeth to stop chattering. And let's just say it was a little harder to walk today because of it.

This morning when you woke up, he had been yelling into the phone that they needed to bring more blankets up right fucking now or else he would explode off their arms since they couldn't do the most fucking simple of tasks and you swiped the phone from him, rapidly and profusely apologizing for his brash language on behalf of the angry pomeranian simmering beside you.

You threw in that you would be grateful if they could spare more but if others needed it more than you told them you two would be fine and could make do before thanking them for their time and hanging up.

And since Bakugou insisted that the heater needed to be fixed today or else you were going to get sick, he allocated you to Kirishima's room, one of the only ones not having any problems while he demanded some answers from the hotel staff and got someone to fucking fix the shitty thing.

So now, here you were. And you had a score to settle with Kirishima anyways, so you weren't bothered.

Mina had already told you everything. Everyone had been in on it.

You weren't shocked by Kaminari and Shinsou and most of the others' involvement in this little scheme but you were surprised to hear it had been Iida's idea to make both of you sit at the same table with no other company.

You'd have to thank them all later.

An hour and several more pillows thrown later, you and Mina had managed to drag down the two sleepy boys just in time to greet your old teachers alongside the rest of your peers as they stepped through the door.

"Aizawa-sensei!!" You cheered, launching yourself forward so that he'd have to catch you.

He did so without much difficulty, his tired eyes brightening up a little bit as you hugged him tight. Out of all his students, he had the closest bond with you.

"Hey, kid." He greeted tiredly, tugging along his sleeping bag and you lifted an eyebrow when you realized that while Midnight and Mic rolled in their luggage, he only brought his trademark yellow sleeping bag. All Might was parking the car and would be come inside within the next few minutes.

"Where's the rest of your things?" You asked just as Yaoyorozu and Iida greeted Midnight and Mic was tackled in a hug by Jirou.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before yawning. "You really think I'm going to do anything else besides sleep this weekend, kid? Nah."

You frowned at him. "You can't just sleep the whole day away."

"Uh uh," He tutted, wagging a finger in your face for a second before yawning again. "Not day. Days."

You pouted at the correction and he rolled his eyes, resting a hand on top of your head to let you know that he was just kidding and you smiled brightly.

"Here, at least let me help bring it upstairs." You bargained, taking it off his hands.

A smug voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Hey, Y/N, why you walking funny?" Kaminari said with a shit-eating grin and it took every fiber of self-control not to freak out.

"Uh, I'm not?"

But your high pitch due to your embarrassment and mortification at being called out won over and Shinsou sniggered in the background.

"Classy." He teased, crossing his arms over his chest. "Didn't peg you for the type to do it on the first date."

"Oh hush, show some respect!!" Yaoyorozu chastised but your dignity was long gone.

Your face broke out in relief though when the elevator in the lobby dinged and a disgruntled Bakugou stepped out, his vermilion eyes widening a fraction when you sped over to him.

"Whoa— What the, why the hell are your eyes red?!" He rushed out, gripping your shoulders and pulling your close to make sure he saw that right. His eyes narrowed angrily when you sniffled. "Tell me who the fuck made you cry."

"Oh shit." Kaminari and Shinsou swore under their breath as your enraged, extremely protective boyfriend stormed over to them with a deadly aura rolling off him in tsunami sized waves.

Midnight held up her hand, stopping him dead in his tracks at the authority his former teacher held. "Hold on please, just a second."

Everyone waited with bated breath to see what she would do. Would she defend you? Tell off Kaminari who had embarrassed you? Or would she let the hothead hell bent on vengeance regain your honor?

She didn't do any of those things.

Instead, Midnight smirked and held out her hand with the palm upturned to Aizawa with a sly smile. "Pay up. I called it."

Your mouth dropped, along with everyone else's as Aizawa forked over 10,000 yen. Even Koda, Sato and Tokoyami looked shocked, which was so rare, it scared you.

Todoroki was the only one who looked confused but Midoriya was right there to explain what was happening and why the sum of money so significant as you shrieked, shrill and high, thoroughly put off.

"What?!" Your embarrassment long forgotten, thankfully, by everyone else as this new revelation hit them like a truck. "You bet on us?!"

"Just you." Aizawa yawned nonchalantly, blinking his eyes wearily. "C'mon L/N, I thought you would turn him down."

"What?!" You screeched as Bakugou narrowed his eyes at his former homeroom teacher, taking that as a challenge.

Aizawa rolled his eyes as Bakugou got all up in his face, demanding to know just what he meant as Mic threw his head back and announced for all to hear.

"Y/NNNNNNN'S GOT A BOYYYYFRIENDDDD!!!!!!"

Clapping your hands over your ears as every single glass thing within the vicinity shattered, you grinned as the tremors passed by within a few seconds. One perk of having time as a teacher who used his quirk so often on accident, all of you learned how to mitigate the most damage he dealt to your surroundings and deflect it.

Jirou shook her head at you in amusement as Bakugou, who was the closest to Mic aside from Kaminari who had taken up refuge from behind Midnight, flatly stated that he could no longer hear.

To which, Mic screamed even louder.

"I CALLED IT FROM DAY ONEEEEEE!!!!"

"That's enough, Mic." Aizawa said, rubbing his temples to ease the headache that had just come on and offered up a slightly reassuring smile to Tsuyu who hopped over to check on him.

Mic pouted dramatically. "But Shouta—"

"Stop it, you're embarrassing them." He sighed, reining in the energetic blond. "And you embarrassing them is embarrassing me."

Midnight cooed. "Awww, he's happy for them."

"Shut up, Nemuri."

You giggled as the three of them began to bicker amongst themselves, who called it first, who saw the chemistry you two had, who was the first one to realize that it was more than just a school crush, all of it.

After beating up Kaminari and Shinsou behind their backs, Bakugou made his way over to you, wiping his hands on his pants and he smiled at you cockily.

"Heater's fixed."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

He hummed. "Mmhm, so wanna get out of here?"

You laughed lightly, being careful not to draw too much attention to yourselves as you slipped away when Mic let out a particularly piercing shriek that he should've gotten the money because he paired the two of you for a project when you were in his English class.

Classic Mic.

"What about breakfast?" You asked as you two took the emergency stairs, at least, just for the first couple of floors until you were clear. You weren't sure your legs would survive the 80 flights just to reach your room.

Bakugou smirked and his mouth ghosted the shell of your ear. "Don't need that shit, I got something better."

Something told you that you weren't going to be leaving the bed for the rest of this trip.

Oh well.

You supposed this was one way to exercise.

153 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Ayato [VAMPIRE ENDING]

Monologue

ーー Screams echo through the castle halls.

No, not just inside the castle either.

When we stepped outside,

I realized those sounds were coming from all across the Demon World.

The final thing,

Karlheinz-san left behind...

It was a new world,

where a newborn species would live.

This world does not need demons nor humans.

Therefore, he will end them.

My body would not stop shaking.

However, I managed to keep going,

because Ayato-kun was there besides me.

His kindness transmitted through our connected hands,

is what pulled me back,

right before I got swallowed by the dark pits of despairーー

Male Vampire A: Gyaaaah!

Female Vampire A: No...Nooooooo!!

ー The scene shifts to the burning forest

Yui: Oh no...!! This is horrible...!!

Ayato: Is this...Is this the world he wished for?

All for this sake...!

New race, my ass. Fuck all of this...

Yui: Ayato-kun...

???: Ayato-kun! Bitch-chan!!

Ayato: ...!?

Yui: ( This voiceーー )

ー The other Sakamaki’s approach them

Ayato: You guys...

...Look at that. Still refusin’ to die, huh?

Laito: Nfu~ Of course we’re alive.

Kanato: I actually agree with Laito for once. We are not that weak to be done in by a few flames.

Ayato: Heh...Guess that’s true.

Yui: ( Thank god...I’m so glad to see everyone alive...! )

Reiji: More importantly...What is going on? The evening gala’s entire venue has gone up in flames.

Subaru: Che...There’s piles of corpses everywhere you look.

Yui: ( No way... )

Reiji: So? Where is Father? We must update him on the status quo.

Ayato: That...won’t be necessary.

Reiji: ...What do you mean?

Ayato: He died.

Reiji: ...

Shuu: ...Died?

Ayato: Yeah.

Reiji: This is not the time to joke around...

There is no way that man would die.

Ayato: It’s not a joke. He’s no longer around.

...And it was exactly what he wished for.

Reiji: ...

Ayato: Also...Kanato, Laito.

Kanato: Yes?

Ayato: Mom died as well.

Kanato: ...

Laito: ...I see...Okay...

???: That man...has passed away...?

ー The Mukami’s appear

Ruki: In that case...Sakamaki Ayato. Does that mean...You are Adam?

Yui: ( ...Did the Mukami’s know about this as well, perhaps...? )

Azusa: Eve...Ayato-san turned out...to be your Adam, huh...?

Kou: ...We...

Yuma: ...Ugh.

Reiji: Adam? What exactly are you talking about? Explain this at once!!

Yui: Wellーー

Monologue

In the following minutes,

we told them everything which had happened up till now.

Including the full details,

on the plan their Father - Karlheinz-san - wished for.

And thenーー

Reiji: ...Unbelievable...You claim that was Father’s wish...?

Ruki: And Adam and Eve were born right now...

Ayato: Adam? Eve? My ass!

I’m Yours Truly and Chichinashi is Chichinashi! Simple as that.

Shuu: ...Sounds like something you would say...

And? What are we going to do now? We can’t just sit around and do nothing forever, can we?

Ruki: We’re returning to the human world. Then I can think, about my path in life...

Kou: You mean ‘ours’, right?

Yuma: Exactly. Don’t talk as if you’re all by yerself now.

Ruki: ...You guys...

Azusa: ...Ruki...It’s just like they said. We’re brothers, remember?

Ruki: ...Yeah, you’re right.

There you have it...So long.

ー The Mukami’s leave

Yui: ( ...Guys... )

Ayato: They left...

Shuu: They sure did...I mean, it fits them so I see no problem? Pwaah...

ーー So, Ayato. What’s your plan?

Ayato: Well...

Yui: ( Right, we can’t stay stuck in place forever either. )

( We have to think about the future. )

Ayato: ...

I’ll stay here. With Yui by my side as well.

Yui: Ayato-kun...

Laito: Look at you talk, Ayato-kun! I’m impressed!

Kanato: ...Well, I suppose that’s fine. However, as you can see, Eden has been completely destroyed.

Ayato: ...Hehe. Oi oi, who do you think I am?

Don’t underestimate the Great Ayato-sama!

*WOOSH*

Yui: ( Ah...! Eden has stopped crumbling apart...? )

Reiji: ...I see.

If Father’s magic is what caused this destruction, then I suppose you can use your newly earned powers to stop it...?

Ayato: Haah, haah...I could have done this much with ease even without that jerk’s powers!

Subaru: ...I wonder...

Ayato: Aah!? What didya say!?

Reiji: Good grief...We just went through all of that, and look at you guys going at it again...

Yui: ( Reiji-san may say that but...I’m happy to have met up with everyone and be able to talk to them like this... )

Ayato: ...Tsk. ...Oi! Chichinashi!

Yui: Y-Yes!?

Ayato: Why do you look so relieved? Now that everything’s settled, you gotta get ready!

Women love that sorta stuff but they always take forever, don’t they?

Yui: Eh?

Ayato: Haah? You really don’t get it at all, do you?

Laito: Nfu~ You’re so dense, Bitch-chan.

It’s a little broken down, but when a guy asks you to live together in a castle like Eden...

There’s only one thing that could imply, right?

Yui: ...Um...

Ayato: Aah, god! You know...

ーー I obviously mean we have to get everythin’ ready for the wedding ceremony!

Yui: ...!

The two of us will...?

Ayato: Y-Yeah! I’ll make an exception for you. Only ‘cause I’ve got no other choice though!

Laito: ...Looks like someone can’t be honest with himself.

Ayato: Aah!? Excuse me!?

Laito: Oh, nothing~! Nfu~!

Yui: ( Ayato-kun and I will... )

( Oh no, this feels like a dream... )

Shuu: ...I mean, suit yourself.

Subaru: I don’t mind if that means less trouble for us.

Reiji: If you do not burden me, then please be my guest.

But, well...Since I am the only person here with some common sense, allow me to say one thing.

ーー Congratulations.

Yui: ( Reiji-san... )

Ayato: I decided I’m gonna do this shit so l will, regardless of what you guys say!

Ah, right. I guess I wouldn’t mind employin’ you guys as my servants at the castle?

Reiji: I kindly refuse. Haah...I am leaving now.

Ayato: Aah? Where exactly?

Reiji: Does that matter?

Honestly...Any place will do.

Father is no longer around. In that case, I see no reason for me to stay here.

ー Reiji leaves

Ayato: That’s why I asked wheーー

Subaru: I’m dippin’ as well.

I didn’t exactly live with you guys out of my own free will anyway. See you.

ー Subaru leaves as well

Shuu: I’ll go too then...Pwaah...Guess I’ll finally get some peace and quiet...

ー Shuu follows suit

Yui: ( They all left. Which leaves... )

Ayato: What ‘bout you two?

Laito: Hmー Let me think. I guess I could stick around.

There’s so much fun to be had with a newlywed couple, don’t you think~? Right, Kanato-kun?

Kanato: I’m afraid I can’t agree. I’m leaving as well.

ー Kanato leaves

Laito: Eehー Boring! Oh well...I guess it can’t be helped this time.

See you~! Ah! Send me an invitation to the ceremony, okay~?

ー Laito follows after Kanato

Yui: Ah...

...They all left.

Ayato: Hmph! A huge weight lifted off my shoulders, honestly!

Now it’s finally just the two of uー Woah.

...

...Come on, let’s go.

Yui: Y-Yeah...!

ー Ayato steps closer

*Smooch*

Ayato: ...Nn...

Yui: Wha...!?

Ayato: Guess I’ll kiss you before that at least.

Yui: ...B-Before? You already did, Ayato-kun...

Ayato: Shush!

Well, I guess kisses aren’t half bad.

Okay! Now we’re headed off for real.

Yui: Yeah...!

Monologue

Ayato-kun pulled me by my hand,

as I once again faced Eden.

This place is currently in ruins.

However, in my eyes,

it looked more beautiful than anything.

I wonder why?

That question immediately disappeared from my mind.

The answer,

more than anything, or anyone,

was right next to me after allーー

Ayato: ーー Oi, why are you takin’ forever?

Come here already.

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“I won’t let you go, no matter what happens. You better don’t take my love lightly.”

“I hope you made up your resolve when choosin’ me, Chichinashi? ...’Cause you’re mine forever now.”

Yui: ( Aah...What a peaceful day. )

( I’m so glad...Our ceremony is today. )

Ayato: Oi, whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout? Did you have other stuff on your mind when I’m here right in front of you?

Geez, I can never leave my guard down with you.

Yui: Fufu...Sorry...

Ayato: Hmph...

...Anyway...

Those guys just filled their belly and went on their merry ways afterwards. Same goes for those darn Mukami’s.

Who knows what those dudes have been up to this whole time, but for these occasions, they all show up all of a sudden.

Well, I guess it makes sense for them to show up, seein’ as I’m basically the King here now.

Yui: ( I wonder if I’m the only one...Who believes they’re actually looking out for us? )

Ayato: Oi, let me tell you, just in case.

Yui: Yes?

Ayato: I’m not with you ‘cause that’s part of his stupid plan.

Yui: Ayato-kun...

Ayato: I don’t give a damn ‘bout becomin’ the ‘saviors’ he talked of.

The Demon World’s a hot mess. But...

You’re right here in front of me.

That’s why I want to touch you. Want to embrace you.

Don’t want to let you go. Want you by my side...

In short, um...How do I say this...?

...

Aah, right!

ーー I love you, Yui.

...I love you...

No matter what becomes of the world, let’s be together.

That’s simply how I feel.

Yui: ( ...Ayato-kun... )

( I love you too. )

( From here on out, I’ll only ever trust you...and continue to love you. )

( Together...Forever... )

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfayatoending1

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kaimelia · 3 years

Note

could u please write one right after link closes the ring box, like maybe he leaves and amelia is right there at the wedding completely broken idk

enough for you

a/n: I cannot touch link's character right now. so. just amelia here. this is not the fluff you may have been looking for, so if you want something happier just send me an ask for it!

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

The bottom of her dress was wet, her legs covered in droplets of water from the waves pushing up the shore. She was sure her arms would be pink in the morning; the sun was almost unbearable, yet she felt frozen in place.

She'd fallen to the ground after he left, pulling her knees up to her chest and reaching her feet out into the water, looking for something to ground her and feel real.

As soon as she saw the boxes, it was like her voice had broken, her body stuck, and her brain stopped. It felt like a nightmare. She couldn't speak but just stare at him, wondering where it had gone wrong. Where they had lost their connection, the line of understanding that held them together through conflict.

At one point, Link was the first person she would confide in. She never feared telling him anything because she knew that it would be met with a strong hug and words of affirmation, how he would always be there, how he loved her, how strong she was. He could read her face and tell what she was feeling and know exactly how to help her.

Except for the past few months, when their mornings were awkward, when they always seemed to get in each other's way, when Amelia was attending more meetings than ever before, and Link didn't seem to notice anything wrong. She waited for him to fall asleep before crawling into bed, spending extra time at work checking on perfectly stable patients, inviting friends over for dinner more nights than not, hoping to fill the house and avoid what was happening between them.

A strong breeze blew past, her hair flying in front of her face. She closed her eyes, willing herself to wake up to where she was months ago, before Luna, before the proposal, when things were the way they were supposed to be when she woke up every day beside the man she loved, smiles on both of their faces as they whispered 'Good morning' to each other.

Meredith walked up behind her, taking a seat in the sand next to her sister. "You know," she started, glancing over at Amelia, "the tide's coming in. You mighty wanna move to avoid getting drenched." Amelia simply shrugged and continued to stare, her eyes tracing over the horizon. Meredith sighed beside her. "Zola told me what happened," she muttered, placing her hand on Amelia's arm.

"He left," Amelia whispered, the wind blowing her hair into her face. "He just left; he stormed off this beach to god-knows-where and left me here." She brushed her hair back, laughing softly as she did so. "He just left. He proposed, even though I thought we were on the same page about this, and he looked so disappointed," she brought her hand up, wiping her eyes. "I thought that it didn't matter if we were married or not, I thought that it didn't matter if we had another kid because we would have each other, but I don't even know if I have him anymore." Another laugh fell from her mouth, and Meredith frowned.

"I was so scared to tell him that I didn't want another kid, or that I don't want to get married, because I was terrified that he would leave. And, he did," Amelia muttered, finally looking over at Meredith.

"I don't think he's really gone, Amelia."

"You should've seen his face, Mer; I've never seen him like that. He looked so," her voice trailed off, her finger drawing lines in the sand beside her.

"What can I do?"

"I don't know. I don't know where to go from here," Amelia whispered, a tear falling from her face as she looked up at the sky. "What am I supposed to do, Mer? Just go home and put Scout to bed like everything's fine? Tell him that Daddy's at work?"

"You can come home with me. I'll help with Scout, and we'll figure everything out together."

"I don't want to figure things out. I want my life back; I want to be happy." She sniffled loudly, biting her bottom lip. "How did this even happen? How did I lose him, is there something wrong with me?" Meredith wrapped her arm around Amelia's shoulder, leaning her head against the neurosurgeon's.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Amelia. Nothing at all," Meredith consoled, rubbing Amelia's shoulder as the woman began to cry, pulling her knees closer to her chest and leaning into Meredith's body. "I promise you that it'll get better. And I'm right here for as long as that takes."

#amelia shepherd #amelink #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #atticus lincoln #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #meredith grey #my fics

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kaeyastopmakingicepuns · 3 years

Text

Diluc x Reader Fake Marriage, part two

Part One

So, this is a continuation of the fame marriage fic, which I didn’t really intend to continue, but here we are.

Summary: Fake marriage, you know the drill.

Rating: T

Preview:

"You said, and I quote: 'you should really bring the Knights of Favonious with you next time,'" you reminded him.

Diluc faltered. "I didn't mean it like that."

Also on AO3

You had barely made it a hundred paces past the bridge that led out of Mondstadt before you began to regret you choice of travelling companion.

"Not getting cold feet, are we?" Kaeya asked as he walked backwards a few steps ahead of you, his hands casually clasped behind his head so that his elbows stuck out.

You rolled your eyes. "Cold feet from what?"

"Ya know..." Kaeya grinned. "Having Mondstadt's greatest Calvary Captain-"

"--Only Calvary Captain," you corrected.

Kaeya didn't miss a beat. "--Most handsome and charming Calvary Captain accompany you on your errands?"

"What is this, 'bring your obnoxious, little shit to work day?'" You scoffed. "I simply asked for an extra pair of hands, don't you think that this--" you jerked your head backwards small battalion of knights marching in formation behind you-- "is a little much?"

Kaeya gave you a nonchalant shrug. "Jean asked me to show some of the new recruits the ropes. Ya know, let 'em get their feet wet. I figured what better way than by shadowing my favorite adventurer?"

"Ah." You understood now. "I see what this is, you're trying to get me to do your job for you."

Kaeya gave you an impish grin. "Does that sound like something I would do?" he asked, well aware that was exactly the sort of reputation he'd curated for himself.

You didn't grace that with a response. "I thought that new honorary knight was your favorite adventurer?" you asked instead.

"Oh, no, no, no, my dear," Kaeya said, waving a finger back and forth in front of your face. You smacked his hand away and tried to will a small stone or a tree root to trip the backwards-walking idiot. It would serve him right.

"They are my favorite traveler. You-" he tapped your nose. You willed harder. "-are my favorite adventurer."

“Gee, I’m flattered,” you said drily.

You continued walking in silence-- well, you were silent, Kaeya was most decidedly not-- and it wasn’t until you were halfway through the Windwail Highland that Kaeya finally thought to ask, “So what’s the plan for today?”

“We’re going to see Andrius,” you said. “I need a spirit locket.”

“Spirit locket?” Kaeya echoed playfully. “Whatever for?”

You glared at him. He knew exactly what for, using up all your raven insignias the moment you could get your hands on them, occasionally not even waiting until you had removed them from the alchemy bench.

Kaeya placed a hand on his chest in mock surprise. “For me?” he asked, words practically dripping with that false honeyed tone he used when he felt like being particularly annoying. “Why, you shouldn’t have!” He was right. You shouldn’t have. Except Kaeya was your best friend (but Archons, at what cost?) and you had agreed to help him when he had bemoaned his difficulty in taking on the ice wolf due to his cryo vision.

Speaking of which-- “Oh, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be, what, with my cryo vision and all. I guess I’ll just have to watch while the rest of you fight,” he said, not sounding even remotely sorry.

“I did tell you not come,” you reminded him.

He opened his mouth to retort, but a voice in the distance calling out your name caused you both to turn your heads.

There, making his way toward you from the direction of Dawn Winery, was Diluc, his coat and bright red hair billowing dramatically behind him as he walked, which was odd, seeing as the ‘Windwail Highland’ was uncharacteristically un-windy. How did he always seem to do that? He must be personally blessed by Barbatos, you mused, and to his own credit, Diluc certainly knew how to make an entrance.

As he drew nearer, you could make out an irked expression on his face. That is to say, a different irked expression than the one he usually wore.

Once he was close enough to converse without shouting, he spoke to you directly, ignoring Kaeya and the other knights completely. “Since when do you hang around with the Knights of Favonius?” Was he pouting? Not quite, but he was coming very close to it.

You blinked. "I'm just taking your advice."

Diluc looked scandalized. "I would never advise such a thing!"

You spoke slowly, surprised at your own patience, "You said, and I quote: 'you should really bring the Knights of Favonious with you next time.'"

Diluc's indignant expression faltered with uncertainty. "We were just standing around," he defended himself weakly.

You could actually feel the vein in your eyelid twitch as you tried to control your sudden rage. "We were standing next to a campfire, so that we didn't freeze to death!" you said through gritted teeth.

Diluc knew he had no leg to stand on, so he switched tactics. "When I said take the Knights of Favonious with you, I didn't mean it like that," he said with indignance.

What was he even talking about?! Stubborn bastard. "There's only one way to take that you-- you--" You jabbed a finger into his chest repeatedly, trying to come up with the right word, but found yourself distracted by how ridiculously toned his abs were. You stopped poking him and flattened your hand against him, marveling at how well-defined he felt. It took at least a full thirty seconds before your brain reminded you that this was a weird thing to do.

Then a light chuckle reminded you that you also had an audience.

You quickly dropped your hand, clearing your throat awkwardly. Was Diluc staring at you? Probably, but you didn’t dare a look as you turned your attention towards Kaeya.

“Come along now,” he said, ushering the trainee knights back towards Mondstadt. “Let’s give these two lovebirds some privacy. We’ll find some nice, gentle dummies for you all to fight.” Some of the new recruits looked intensely relieved at not having to go up against the legendary wolf on their first day, which, yeah, was fair. But with them gone, you’d be left alone in this embarrassing moment with Diluc.

“Kaeya,” you hissed. “Get back here.” Kaeya kept walking. “Get back here,” you repeated more frantically, pointing at the ground in front of you. Kaeya put a hand up to his ear mouthing something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,’ as he continued on. “Get back--” Kaeya turned around, and you let out an angry squeak.

“ W-what I-I meant was--” Diluc stammered as the group disappeared from view.

You turned to face him to find his face had turned tomato red.

He took a deep breath and tried again. “I meant if I am unable to go with you. But, I am.” He coughed. “Able, that is.”

You raised an eyebrow. That was literally not what he said, but you’d let it slide. You assumed that he had only made the original comment out of stress, and it took seeing you parading around with the knights to realize what a jerk he’d actually been.

“Alright,” you said. “Want to go challenge an ice wolf?”

Diluc’s expression flattened. “This is for Kaeya, isn’t it?”

“I can call the knights back if you’d rather not--”

“No.” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before Diluc grabbed your hand and began leading you down the road towards the Wolvendom.

---

“So about what we discussed last night...” Diluc said carefully as the two of you headed back towards the Dawn Winery, prize in hand.

You tensed. So much for never bringing it up again. “Last night?”

“Yeah, you know.” Diluc either didn't notice or decided not to take your out. “The whole... ‘fake married’ thing.”

“You’re not actually considering that, are you?” Why were you so damn nervous all of the sudden? It wasn’t like you had agreed to anything. But then again, why not? It wasn’t like you would fall for a guy like Diluc, right? Someone as prickly as him? Did he even have a romantic bone in his entire body? It would be like falling in love with a mitachurl. Of the blazing axe variety, to be precise. Because of the fire.

“Well, I was giving it some thought, and I realized it could actually be incredibly beneficial,” he explained. “To both of us, I mean. You take most of the commissions around the Windwail Highlands and Brightcrown Mountains--”

“--Because of the treasure,” you reminded him. Why did you feel the need to remind him every time it came up? It wasn’t like you had some other secret reason. Okay, so yeah, the treasure in these areas was pretty much the same as anywhere else, but whatever.

“Right, because of the treasure.” Diluc continued, “So living in the manor just makes sense, I mean, even if we don’t get fake married, it makes sense, it wouldn’t be weird or anything.” Who exactly was he trying to convince, here? “And not having to be worried about having hopeful suitors dropping by the manor would give me more time to work and focus on...” He faltered. “Other duties.”

You rolled your eyes. “Diluc, I know you’re the Dark Knight Hero.”

Diluc looked shocked, but didn’t deny it. “How?”

"It was the hair.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Oh...”

“Yeah.”

“...I’ll get a hood,” he decided before he caught up to you, as if that would solve the problem. Somebody needed to help this man. Wait, as the one who noticed, was it your responsibility now? Archons, it just might be.

“But anyway. The marriage. The fake marriage, that is.” The Archons had a cruel sense of humor to make this man as awkward as he was and then give him a blush that matched his hair color. “What do you think?”

You stopped walking and turned to him. He stopped, too. His face was serious, but his eyes were... hopeful, maybe? Did he really need this that badly? Suddenly the thought of turning him down made you feel extremely guilty. Although, oddly enough, you didn’t want to turn him down. Because of the manor. You wanted to fake marry him for the manor, obviously. Just like how you took the commissions that required you to pass by the winery for the treasure.

“...Alright,” you finally agreed. “But don’t expect me to fall in love with you.”

“I thought that was the point,” Diluc agreed, and you had to summon an image of every cranky, sour, disgruntled face you had ever seen Diluc make in an attempt to block the image of Diluc smiling (not smirking, but actually smiling) that had seared itself into your brain. Not a problem, you assured yourself, it would probably only take a few days of cohabitation before you remembered how aggravating he could be.

In fact, it was mere moments later, when you stopped to gather some small lamp grass, (for him, no less,) that he reminded you of just that by cutting you off mid-comment with a growled ‘I don’t do small talk,’ before he looked at the sky impatiently to assess the time.

“I still have a lot to do at the guild, how about you take a rest while I go back?”

Oh, you were so bringing the Knights or Favonius with you next time.

#genshin impact #gi diluc #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr

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castieltrash1 · 4 years

Text

dangerous territory → clint b.

gif credit (x)

summary → clint stays behind during a mission, leaving you alone with him in the avengers building. seeing him sprawled out on the comfy lounge room couch gives you some naughty ideas -- only adding to the tension your relationship already has.

word count → 6.7k (literally wtf)

warnings → i ignore the entirety of iw/endgame except for clint’s makeover, extreme sexual tension, smut; switch!fem!reader, switch!clint, couch sex, oral (both recieving), fingering, slight overstimulation, dirty talk, praise

a/n → literally idk if i should be ashamed or not but im Horny 4 Hawkeye!!! oopsie !! also there are like .3 smut fics for him on here and im determined to fix that

---

Quiet was not a word you’d use to describe the Avengers Facility.

In fact, with Steve’s loud orders, Bruce’s lab explosions, and Sam’s boisterous laughter -- not to mention the never-ending petty arguments that managed to revert the Avengers to 11th graders in their first debate club -- it was the farthest thing from quiet.

But, now, with zero disagreements and zero distractions, you’d been able to enjoy the building all to yourself. Almost. Of course, the one time you got to avoid a mission, you ended up falling into an even worse situation.

You’d covered for Wanda last mission, and she’d insisted on paying you back for the newest one. It wasn’t high stakes by any means, but the work itself had countless components and everyone who was nearby -- or at least on the planet -- had been called in to fill some role.

Everyone, of course, except you. And Clint.

Suddenly the idea of being stuck in the Quinjet with everyone’s post-mission moodiness sounded very appealing. You could feel a headache growing as you wandered around the kitchen, doing anything and everything in your power to avoid him. He was not supposed to be here. Hell, he didn’t even like stepping foot in the place unless the world was in immediate danger.

Of course, you weren’t the only one to notice his odd attitude. Natasha gave him a confused look when he mentioned staying behind, but decidedly hadn’t commented, almost like she’d already pieced together the reason for Clint’s actions. Knowing her, she probably had. But, even Wanda shot a glance that worried you -- though you seemed to be the only one to catch her squinted green gaze before it disappeared. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what she saw in his mind.

Sure, you had a couple of ideas as to why he would choose to isolate himself with you, but you tried to not let those thoughts consume you. The others wouldn’t be back till midday tomorrow -- if all went well -- and you were not about to spend the next 36 hours soaking your panties with stupid fantasies.

Unfortunately, even when ignoring Clint, your mind was still focused on him. When you passed by the gym or shooting range, antsy to get your daily work in, one quick thought of seeing Clint’s arms -- tensed as he loaded his bow, muscles straining and eyes focused on his target -- was enough to have you quickly walking in the opposite direction.

But, now, as you make your way into the lounge to relax, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You have just as much of a right as Clint does to walk around whenever and wherever you please. In all honesty, you feel even more entitled considering you’re the one actually living in the tower (at least most of the time.)

He’s exactly where you expect him to be -- he may be fast and quiet on his feet, but you’ve been keeping tabs on him, for your own sake.

It’s a bit odd seeing a book instead of a bow in his hands, but you’re not entirely sure you should be focused on how his fingers wrap around the thin pages, thumbing the corners so gently--

“Done avoiding me, are you?”

Well, shit.

His gaze remains on his book -- though the very few pages he’s turned assures you he’s not paying attention to whatever riveting story Tony has stocked his shelves with.

“What are you talking about?” you ask. There’s a moment of temptation to take a seat next to him on the couch, as close as possible. To feel his strong arms around you, smell the raw masculine cologne he always wears a bit too much of -- heavy on his neck and sharp jaw that you know your lips could curl around so perfectly if given the chance.

You swallow heavily and take a seat in the chair across from him, sinking into the expensive fabric.

“Tony picks good furniture, right?” Clint sighs, book closing without so much as a dog-ear mark as he leans back.

It’s silent for a second, and you’re entirely sure you’ve missed a part of the conversation during your mini black-out, but Clint doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, waiting patiently for your answer. You consider it a small win and accept the change in topic with an awkward laugh.

“Yeah. Didn’t think price made such a big difference.” There’s a firmness to the chair that keeps you from sinking, and mentally, you consider if it’d be strong enough for other activities. “How much you wanna bet he spent on each of these chairs?” you question, genuinely curious. “I gotta guess at least two grand.”

Clint’s cool eyes glint playfully. “Three,” he challenges with a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. “Though, you should really try this couch. Definitely my favorite thing here.”

There’s just a hint of suggestion in his tone -- the kind that you’d miss if you weren’t trained in reading people. It’s not unexpected, though. You’d have to be a fool to not recognize the exact same longing stares, the same lingering touches that Clint offers you. But, that’s what makes it all more intimidating. It’s an unspoken thing, and at this point, that’s what feels most convenient -- even if your lonely nights spent moaning his name are growing far too common for comfort.

Still, you can’t exactly ignore him, and his eyes follow you closely as you make your way to the couch, falling into the comfy cushions with a huff.

“Wow.” You laugh. “No wonder you’ve been spending so much time down here.”

Clint raises an eyebrow. “So you have been paying me some attention. Interesting.”

If he notices you shift as far to the other end of the couch as possible, he doesn’t mention it.

“Don’t take it personally, Barton,” you huff. “I’m used to keeping an eye on everyone around here.” It’s not entirely a lie, but he manages to see right through the half-truth regardless.

“So you avoid everyone, then?” There’s no hurt or misunderstanding in his voice, not even confusion. He knows what you’re doing, knows why you can’t bear to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back onto the couch.

He just chuckles, a low sound that makes your stomach clench unconsciously. You expect him to keep pressing you, work you up until you spill your guts, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even say a word as you hear the rustling of paper and feel the couch move slightly as he shifts.

You turn your head towards him and open one eye, then both as they go wide. Clint has taken on a whole new level of comfortable, feet perched on the coffee table and one arm resting on the back of the couch while his free hand flips through the same first few pages as before.

In all honesty, you suddenly find yourself happy that Steve and Tony are gone -- otherwise they’d be scolding Clint for his manners, and most definitely not ogling his firm legs in those tight, black jeans.

You drag your gaze back up his body, stopping near the hem of his shirt, where his new position has allowed for the fabric to ride up his stomach. It’s just a sliver of skin but the image is enough to make your heart race. There’s a faint dip in the muscled hip line leading to his jeans, and if you stare extra hard, you can see the light trail of thin hairs disappearing under the fabric.

Swallowing heavily, you quickly look back at Clint’s face, holding back a gasp as he stares back at you.

“So,” you fill the silence before he can, mentally thanking Natasha for her training on keeping your composure. “How’s that book of yours?”

Clint just grins for a second -- you both know he’s caught you. “It’s alright. Not the most interesting thing in the building right now, though.”

You gulp. “Yeah… The place is big. Lots to explore. I don’t think I’ve even seen every room--”

“I have a feeling you know that’s not what I mean,” Clint cuts you off with a chuckle, and you send him a challenging glare.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you scoff.

He hums, before his tongue peeks out to swipe across his bottom lip. “You’re sounding awfully like a broken record today.” His icy, pale eyes return to his book, and you watch as he lifts his thumb to his wet lips, tongue darting out the lick the tip. You can practically feel the action, and almost whine in disappointment when his hand returns to flip the page.

Clint is downright grinning at this point, and you know he’s taking in every breath, shift, and blink of yours. “But, I know you’re not actually confused,” he continues. “In fact, I’d argue you like this game of ours a bit more than you should.”

You know if you brush it off again, he’ll drop it. He’s too nice to make you uncomfortable, and his statement hangs in the air with a heavy weight.

“You know, Barton?” you shift from your spot on the couch, eliminating a good chunk of the space between you and him. “I think you’re smarter than most people give you credit for.” He raises a brow, and you would believe his undisturbed look if you didn’t see his fingers twitch against the spine of the forgotten book.

“Tell Nat that,” he jokes, and you grin. Seeing that little crack in his facade, the way he fills the conversation with a joke, the discreet but heavy swallow he tries to hide -- it’s all enough to power you to move closer, until there are mere centimeters between you two.

“Hmmm, I don’t think I’ll be telling Natasha anything from this conversation of ours.” Keeping your attention on the slight tense of his jaw, you push the book from his hands, and he immediately drops his feet from the table to discard it in their place.

You pause for a second, glancing at Clint’s lap then back at him, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach out and grab your hip.

“Get over here already,” he groans, both arms wrapping around your waist to situate you in his lap. His hands are warm and firm and everything you could have ever imagined, and you automatically roll your hips down onto him. There’s a pleased moan from you both, and his own hips jolt in a way that sends you even closer to him, until your chests are touching.

He immediately dives for your neck, scruff tickling the sensitive skin as he breathes you in deeply. “I gotta admit,” he murmurs, letting his lips graze the bottom of your jaw in the most sinful way, “you look so much better sitting here than standing around in the kitchen.”

You drag your fingers through the long hair on the back of his head, tugging it playfully. “You’ve been watching me, Barton?”

He hums, squeezing you just as teasingly. “I do a lot of staring when it comes to you, babe.”

You pull him from your neck by his hair, and he looks up at you with the most mischievous glint in his eyes. The nickname makes you undeniably flustered, but you force the embarrassment away.

“I don’t know about you, but I think that’s what you call creepy,” you mumble, leaning down so Clint can feel your words against his own lips. He immediately darts forward, but you pull back with a sly grin, watching his eyes darken at the action.

“I think,” he growls, catching you off guard as he pushes you back onto the couch, making you jostle as you try not to fall off the edge. He steadies you with a large hand, and you only jolt again when he uses his free hand to spread your legs, caging you in as his hips drop between your parted thighs. “You’d be a hypocrite for saying that.” He drops back to your neck, and you can feel his smile before his teeth sink into your skin lightly -- just enough to make you gasp.

He continues to litter your neck with kisses, and you watch in awe as his toned arm tenses by the side of your head -- the thick black lines of ink rolling as his muscles flex.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you taunt, back arching as his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to right below your chin. “You gonna fuck me?”

Clint bites the edge of your jaw in retaliation to your words, before he pulls back just enough to stare at you with a lustful gaze.

“Not yet, baby. Not that easily.” One of his hands trails up the front of your thigh, before it busies itself with the hem of your shirt. You try to hide your disappointment, but Clint notices it, of course, and just shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on letting you leave this couch anytime soon. You’ve made me wait long enough for this… I’m gonna take my time with you.”

He finally presses his lips to yours, and you hungrily reach and tug until he’s as close as possible -- until you can feel the denim of his jeans scraping deliciously against your thighs as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth. It’s messy and entirely uncalculated, and your nails catch in the wrinkles of the back of his shirt while his own fingers tug impatiently at the bottom of yours.

You part from him for a second, and his own greedy mouth follows yours, only managing to press against the side of your lips. “You act like you’ve made this easy for me,” you retort, and his chest rumbles against yours as he chuckles.

“Oh honey, I think I’ve made it quite obvious I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day you walked in here.”

“Clearly, not obvious enough.”

Clint huffs, warm breath hitting your cheek. “What’d you want me to do? Huh?” He shifts so his words make their way directly to your ear, each syllable accentuated with a puff of hot air. With him this close, neck just below your nose, you can take in the heavy smell of that sharp cologne you love so much.

His calloused fingers dip beneath your shirt, but instead of the obvious trail up, his hand trails down to play with the hem of your shorts. “Tug these little things off in front of everyone? Show them all how worked up you get me wearing these? Is that what you want?”

Your hips lift in a silent plea, and you groan. “They’re comfortable.”

“Maybe for you, but I find myself very uncomfortable when you wear them.” He snickers, and if you weren’t so turned on, you’re sure you’d roll your eyes. Only Clint Barton could make a joke about untimely hard-ons during a time like this.

“Then why don’t you take them off?” you groan, and he shakes his head while muttering something about you being bossy.

Still, his words betray him as he tugs the fabric down your legs, as slowly as possible while his eyes drink in the new area of exposed skin. “What part about taking my time with you did you not understand?” The corner of his lips tug in that mischievous way of his, and you have a sneaking feeling his patience is as fleeting as your own.

Proving your point, Clint tosses your shorts over the back of the couch with a grin, then pushes you further up the cushions. You’re almost sitting, shoulder blades knocking the arm of the sofa while your legs bend at the knee to accompany Clint, who scoots back. It’s the perfect and most disastrous angle to be at as you have to both feel and watch his deft fingers trail up from your knee.

You’re a hundred percent sure the effects of your arousal are extremely obvious, but he doesn’t comment on the wet patch of your panties -- though you see his eyes focus on the area between your legs for a second too long before his gaze flickers back to your thighs.

His calloused fingers trail the edge of fabric around your legs, rough skin providing a type of friction you can’t begin to explain. His touch is fleeting and he changes the amount of pressure with every swipe of his thumb, always pushing just enough to let you know he’s holding you down. That you can’t escape him -- as if you’d even think of trying to do so.

“Your legs are so sexy, you know that?”

You let out some type of pleased whine, a sound that Clint relishes as he tightens his grip on your thighs. “Make the prettiest sounds, too,” he continues, and then his fingers are right there. One hand holds your left leg down, while the other covers your panty-covered core. His thumb rubs into your desperate, throbbing clit, and you use your little amount of freedom to push your hips up, wanting, needing more.

Clint immediately presses you back down, and you watch his tattoos shift just slightly as he adds more weight to his hand on your thigh.

“Please, please.” You revert to begging at your lack of movement, losing all shame in regard to your desire. It’s obvious you need Clint -- any excuses or lies from before long forgotten. You need his movements to speed up, the slow circles of his thumb providing barely enough friction.

He just chuckles, but relents a little and you downright purr as the thin fabric of your underwear drags against your tingling nerve endings. It’s impossible to move under Clint’s weight, but all the muscles in your lower half flex and twitch as they desperately search for release and relief.

“How about…” Clint trails off, fingers moving upward to grab the waistline of your panties, “we get these off?”

You’re sure if you nod any faster you might make yourself dizzy, and Clint just smirks in that knowing way. That way that lets you know he has you right where he wants you. Right where he’s been waiting to have you.

The article of clothing is soon flung behind his shoulder just like your forgotten shorts -- and you can only faintly remind yourself to make sure you grab everything before the others return. Though, at this point, you think anyone could walk in on Clint between your legs and you’d still be begging him to make you cum -- audience or not.

“Fucking Christ,” Clint groans, palms sliding between your thighs to spread them, giving him a full view of your glistening core. “I swear, you’re gonna kill me.” Seeing his flushed cheeks, mussed hair, and greedy fingers, you’re not sure you can reject that statement.

He removes his hands for just a second, but you don’t dare close your legs, and he has the audacity to wink. Before your mind can even process the action, though, he’s pulling his shirt off, arms crossing over his chest as they show off in their full glory. Hips, stomach, chest, arms -- they’re all exposed so quickly and your eyes drink in the features as fast as they can. Clint throws the shirt to the side -- you have a feeling he’s utilizing his perfect aim to create a clothing pile -- but you just stare at his shoulder, where the ink spreads to areas you’ve never had the chance to see before. The olive green accents contrast against his tanned skin, which has gained a light sheen from the sweat of his arousal.

As he leans back down, Ronin’s portrait stares you dead in the eyes -- quite literally. If you didn’t know the deeper meaning, you’re sure you could mistake the skull as a danger warning to the man pressing a kiss against the inside of your knee.

Short hairs chafe your legs as Clint makes himself comfortable, pressing his jaw against you. When his hot breath dances over your center you almost squeeze your thighs together, but he’s there to push them apart with a chuckle.

“No, no…” He pulls away barely, and you take in a deep breath to calm yourself. “You’re gonna give me what I want, ok?” His fingers are gentle, and so are his eyes when he glances up to you. He’s hopeful, pleading almost, but stays respectful. “If that’s ok, of course.”

You almost want to cry, because how could he think any differently, but you just nod. “Please Clint, touch me.”

He sends you a lopsided grin, and then he’s right there, pressing a kiss against your clit. The feeling is completely different from before, lips slick and soft unlike his rough thumb. All the air in your lungs leaves your body as you let out a sigh of relief, body finally relaxing as it gets the touch it needs.

You reach down and your nails scratch his scalp lightly before you grip his hair in a tight hold. He nuzzles against your hand and groans against you, and the feeling of control makes your blood run hot through your veins. One of the most powerful men on Earth is between your legs, sucking softly on your clit like it's the only thing he could ever want.

He traces circles on your thighs with his coarse fingers as he warms you up with gentle licks and the occasional curl of his lips around your most sensitive area. You let him have the satisfaction of your spread thighs, but you periodically tug on his tousled locks to remind him that he’s the one between your legs. It’s the perfect balance of dominance -- the type that makes your head spin and your eyes roll back into your head.

Clint presses another kiss to your clit before traveling lower and the intimacy of the action makes your skin flush. You can tell he’s not going to be holding back for much longer though, if the desperation of his descent is any indication. His fingers join his attack as he spreads your folds, tongue dragging the entirety of your core.

“So good, baby. So fucking good,” he mutters, mouth impatient as he covers as much skin as he can at once. It’s fast and downright dirty as he presses his tongue into you, eliciting a groan from your parted, panting lips. You’re dripping at this point, and he laps up the mix of saliva and arousal with a yearning thirst.

It’s all so overwhelming. His fingers are digging into your skin -- likely to leave faint marks -- and the scruff framing his jaw scrapes and leaves your skin burning, while the softer locks between your fingers are a comfort to steady you.

The heat building in your body is entirely unbelievable, and your back digs into the couch as you arch into Clint, desperate for all he’ll be willing to give you. You press him closer, and he moans at the power in your hands -- the control you have despite him hovering over you. It’s a mental trip for you both, your stomach and pelvic muscles clenching as they react to his generous, eager giving.

“God, Clint, gonna cum.” The words barely feel like they’re coming from your own body, jaw slack as you tremble in his hold. His index finger presses into you slowly, while his thumb replaces his tongue on your clit. The change of stimulation has you reeling, your grip on Clint loosening as you feel his warm words against you.

“Kinda the point, sweetheart.” Your eyes are squeezed shut, but you know Clint is smirking -- you can practically hear it in his voice.

His finger curls to press against your front wall, and he rubs it gently once, twice, before he lets the digit drag out, sinking in again even slower. The leisurely thrusts continue as his tongue returns to circle your clit, his cocky words from before silenced as he puts his mouth to work. Your breath grows heavier, heart rate increasing with every second. His middle finger joins the first with a steady push, and you clench desperately as they curl and press and rub and reduce you to nothing but putty.

You’re right there and Clint knows it -- somehow he knows it. His fingers move faster, harder, and his lips wrap around your clit with even greater determination. There’s a shift, fingertips grazing the perfect spot as he sucks desperately and it’s over. You’re crying out his name, thighs shaking and you clench and flutter around his never-ceasing fingers. There’s a moment where all senses leave you and all you can feel is Clint, and the spread of warmth between your legs. Your ears ring and your own moans become faint background sounds.

And then, you’re pulling his head back, his tongue still trying to work your sensitive clit. He fights your tug on his hair but you must be begging because he finally relents with a huff. You can hear his breathing, and you feel his shift as he leans back over you, fingers still working you through your high.

“Look at me,” he demands, and his free hand drags down your cheek. “C’mon, open your eyes.” He forcefully grabs your chin, and your eyes open too quickly for your mind to process. It’s all so bright and you have to blink away the splotches of color coating your vision. Clint takes up the entirety of your view, lips wet and eyes dark. “There you go, baby.” He’s grinning and panting and his fingers are still fucking moving.

You whimper and glance down -- as much as his grip on your jaw will allow -- and the view of his tattooed arm between your thighs, veins pulsing as he fingers you is imprinted in your mind permanently. It’s a never-ending high that goes on for a second too long before Clint finally, finally eases his fingers from you. They’re practically dripping with your release, and he wastes no time bringing them to his glossy mouth.

It’s hypnotic to watch as his lips close around his fingers, nostrils flaring as he sucks them eagerly. They come out clean, and his chest rumbles with a groan. “Can’t get enough of your taste. Fuck.”

It takes a second for you to catch your breath, chest heaving and shirt clinging to sweaty skin. But, there’s finally a moment where your legs feel somewhat solid, and you take advantage of the opportunity, bending your leg to put the bottom of your foot on Clint’s bare chest.

He shoots you a confused but intrigued look, and you respond with a lopsided grin as you push him backward, until he’s the one stumbling to find a spot against the arm of the couch. Faintly, you consider the move would be much sexier with a pair of heels digging into his skin, but this will have to suffice for now. Maybe next time -- if there is a next time, of course.

“Now, what are you up to, baby girl?” Clint is practically vibrating with excitement as you gather the strength to push yourself off the couch, ignoring the slight twitch of your exerted thighs.

“Take your pants off,” you say, with little shame. “Now.”

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen someone get undressed so quickly and the hastiness of Clint’s actions leave him with very little coordination. It takes him three tries to get his belt undone, and he pokes himself with the metal prong when his eyes return to glance at you.

Raising a brow, you put your hands on your hips, and he speeds up. The button and zipper take him twice as long, but the sound when he finally tosses his belt and jeans off to the side is well worth the wait.

He licks his lips, looking up at you -- waiting, watching. Your earlier thoughts regarding his legs are heightened tenfold as you take in his toned thighs and hard cock in-between. He’s thick, the bulge pressing against his boxer-briefs making your heart skip a beat. The mere idea of him stretching you open has you growing too impatient for what you have planned.

“Keep going.” You swallow and hope your voice doesn’t sound too shaky.

Clint’s quick fingers make work of the fabric, and you focus on finishing yourself off. You pull your shirt off and let it drop to your feet before your hands move to unhook your bra. You’re barely sliding the straps down your arms when you hear Clint huff, and you look back to him.

“I wanted to do that,” he almost whines, chest puffing.

You roll your eyes but laugh, and toss your bra to him. He catches it with a wink, before throwing it behind him. Immediately, his gaze drags over your chest, excruciatingly slow. You know he’s taking in every inch, every natural mark that decorates your torso. Normally, you’d feel odd being examined so closely while still being at a decent distance -- but Clint is observant and his eyes are hungry.

Finally, his dark eyes reconnect with yours. “You gonna come sit or should I just grab you?” His tone is playful and daring, but you hear the hint of arousal that suggests he wouldn’t be opposed to tugging you into his arms. You don’t have time for games anymore, though, so you stand between Clint’s legs, and he pats his thigh playfully.

“Hmm…” You bite your lip and shake your head, eyes glistening with mischief. “Not yet…”

You make your descent to your knees perfectly paced, fluttering your lashes as you look up to Clint from between his thighs. He cusses and his arms fall limply to his side as he resigns himself to the torture he knows you’ll be sure to deliver.

“I thought you wanted to take your time,” you tease, fingers sliding up his thigh. Your nails against his skin have him tensing, muscles quivering.

He groans, and tosses his head back. “That was before I made you cum. Just wanna fuck you now -- make you shake again.”

You pinch him. “Sweet-talking will get you nowhere, Barton. You should know that.” But, you still let your palm graze over his hard cock, twitching at your touch. He’s firm and warm, and when your fingers wrap around his length, you realize how deliciously thick he is, filling your grasp fully. The length is there too, just enough to not be intimidating, but the girth has your core throbbing.

“Fuck, Clint,” you groan, giving a slow jerk of your wrist. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

He’s pulsing in your hand, skin flushed and precum beginning to drip from the head of his cock. It coats your hand on the second stroke, easing the drag. Soon enough, he’s practically glistening, and your mouth waters. You have to taste him.

He calls your name, voice trembling, as your tongue darts out to flatten against his tip. “Oh God, please.” He’s flushed, from his cheeks to his tensing thighs, and you’d grin if you weren’t taking him deeper into your mouth. Another part of the burning, fervid desire deep in your veins lights up as your lips wrap around him -- tongue greedy for more as it laps everything it can reach. A growl reverberates through his entire body, and the sound makes your thighs clench.

You spare him a glance, and he looks destroyed. Sweat gathers on his forehead and the veins in his arm pulse as he grips the cushions to stay steady. Sane. Calm.

His knuckles are white and you relieve them by grabbing his left hand in your own, thumb rubbing over the back of his palm. He’s squeezing you like you’re his lifeline, and you reward him with your free hand around his base.

“Fuck fuck, I’ll cum too fast with you doing that,” Clint grunts, and you watch his chest heave as he tries to steady his breathing.

You pull off him with a line of spit, breaking it with your hand as you use the saliva to glide your fingers. He’s still throbbing, and you trace his underside vein with your wet thumb. “I thought that was the point, right?” You repeat his words from earlier with a grin, pressing a kiss against his thigh as your hand speeds up. He’s so close and he needs it so badly, but he finally pulls his hand from yours to grab your moving wrist.

“Not until I fuck you.” He pants, and begrudgingly removes your hold from his cock. “And a couple times, at the very least.”

Your heart races at the mere thought of as many rounds as you can handle, with Clint making you cum again and again. Still, you stand slowly, silently hoping he’ll push you back to your knees and cum down your throat.

But he doesn’t. He watches closely as you straighten out, and you quickly move to straddle him. “Fine, but you’ll let me ride you, understood?” Your thighs brush over him with the lightest touch, and with just one solid movement, you could have him sinking into you. But, you wait. You watch as he swallows heavily, eyes hooded.

Clint gives you a lopsided smile. “No complaints here, babe.” And with that, you reach down to hold his length, pressing the tip against your clenching, wet, core. He gasps, but you shift just slightly, until he bumps your clit. It’s too much and too little all at once, and you let out a soft cry as he jerks upward, precum coating the swollen nub. You reward yourself with one more drag down from your clit before letting the head of his cock push into you.

You’re immediately clenching around his length, and Clint’s calloused fingertips dig into your hips as he helps steady you. It only takes a couple breaths and a slow spread of your thighs to take him fully, arousal coating his cock quickly. He barely holds himself back from rutting into you right away, but you rock your hips and grip his shoulders regardless.

“Fuck,” he half-groans, half-whimpers. “You’re so fucking wet.”

Your nails dig into his skin as you roll again, letting out an incoherent babble of his name as your clit gains friction from his own warm body. You can feel your own wetness dripping down your thigh onto his, and it has you shuddering. It’s so dirty and your fingers move to Clint’s hair, desperately clinging at the long strands. His forehead presses to yours, and he smells like the most dangerous concoction of sweat, cologne, and mint toothpaste you’ve ever had the honor of inhaling.

You join in an almost-kiss that’s all teeth, but he brushes his tongue against your cupid’s bow in a much gentler way, and you know he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine in reaction. He squeezes your hip gently in reassurance, and then his grip on you tightens. It doesn’t hurt, but you can feel the years of arm workouts, and you know there’s no way to escape -- as if you’d ever want to.

Clint’s knee jerks and then he’s thrusting up into you with such force it leaves you breathless. He holds you down and all you can do is gasp and hold him tighter as he pushes into you harder and faster. Every shift provides a new angle and friction as his tip stimulates your sensitive walls.

Your thighs shake desperately and you can hear the wet slap each of his movements provide as you coat his cock in warm slick. He grins at the sight, one hand drifting from your hip until it reaches your throbbing clit.

“Look at you,” he coos and punctuates the words with a rough circle of his thumb.

Your chest heaves as you gasp, but the lack of Clint’s hold gives you a second to grind against him. He grunts as you do, and you chuckle breathlessly against his parted lips.

“And look at you.”

He retorts by way of another rub against your clit, and your laughter quickly turns to a drawn-out moan.

“You look so pretty when you’re about to cum.” He pants between every word, but he’s determined to deliver the compliment that makes your face too warm. You’re not sure how he knows you’re so close -- it must be way more embarrassingly obvious than you thought -- but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he’s letting his cock drag inside you slowly, with a hard thrust every few seconds. Not when the pressure on your clit is changing so rapidly you can’t breathe.

When you do cum, with a broken cry and shaking torso, Clint doesn’t let up. He goes faster, harder. It’s a never-ending high that turns your brain to mush, and your body into even less. Your thighs burn and your toes curl but all you can feel is the delicious length buried deep inside you.

It’s only during the beginning of the cool down that you tug a little harder on Clint’s hair, and roll your hips a little more. “C’mon, Clint, please. Please fill me up.” His chest rumbles against yours with a throaty growl, and you continue to ride out your orgasm as he fucks into you with a few more desperate, shaky thrusts.

He cums in you thick and warm, with a groan of your name. It tumbles from his lips sinfully, and you commit the sound to memory. The rasp of his tone and the sight of his wet, swollen lips.

It’s not until he eases out of you slowly, and you feel the drip down your thigh that you’re grounded and reminded of exactly where you are. On a multi-thousand dollar couch. Owned by Tony Stark.

“Oh my god, Clint.”

His eyes are closed and you’re sure he’s about three seconds from sleeping for eighteen hours, but he manages a tired smirk. “I know. That was good.”

“No! I mean yes. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

He half-opens one eye. “What?”

“I think we stained the couch.” A quick glance between Clint’s thighs all but confirms it, and you’re not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed by the very large wet spot staining the blended fabric.

“I can’t believe that’s what you’re thinking about right now. After everything that just happened.”

You playfully slap his shoulder as you roll onto the cushion next to him with a huff. He nudges you back with his arm before clearing his throat, and letting out a butchered impression of your voice. “Oh Clint! Your dick was just so amazing!-”

“Oh my god!” You cover your face but nothing stops the laughter that rumbles through your chest -- even if he’s got your tone completely wrong. He just chuckles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side with a sigh.

“How much do you think we’ll owe Tony by the end of the day?” He looks down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes, but presses a chaste kiss to your hair. “C’mon, you don’t think I haven’t planned out every surface we still need to fuck on before they get back?”

“Clint!”

“See, you keep screaming my name but for all the wrong reasons.” Now you can feel his grin against the top of your head, and it comes into view as he stands with you still in his grasp. You’re not sure how he maneuvers it, but he’s got you in his arms before you can even blink, and the look he sends you tells you not to complain or even question it. He’s not even out of breath -- all things considered -- and when you glance in the direction he’s heading, your eyes widen.

“You have got to be joking…” You squirm in his arms as he sets you down on the table used for almost every meeting, and the mere thought of defiling it forever makes you squeeze your legs together shyly.

But, Clint is quick to spread them, all with a cocky grin and a far too confident tone.

“I don’t know about you…” He begins, as his fingers trail up your thigh. “But I think we could reach ten thousand by midnight.”

If you distantly hear FRIDAY warn adamantly against it -- neither of you mention it.

“Better get started then, Barton.”

---

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the-firebender-girl · 4 years

Text

Thick As Thieves (Zuko x Reader)

-> In which Azula got her redemption arc and gets to be the cool aunt.

Zuko has been equally dreading and anticipating this day for months. The day his sister will finally be released from the asylum on a nearby island. She was continuously monitored and deemed stable now, safe enough to roam free again and insert herself back to society. His last encounter with her a few years back wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience so he doesn’t know what to expect now, will it go awry again? or has she really turned a new leaf? guess he’ll find out sooner than later.

His worries extend far beyond his own discomfort of facing his deranged and misguided sister because he also has others to worry about, he’s got his own family now. A wife, a daughter, and a son. His wife had briefly met Azula when she tagged along with him at one of his visits but he can’t say the same for the younglings. Izumi and Isao, the new beloved princess and prince of the Fire Nation, his pride and joy.

Being a father suprisingly comes natural to him despite his dreadful childhood and having no father figure to look up to. He learnt a lot from watching Hakoda though, he owed that man a lot. Especially now that the closest thing that he has to a father is gone. Uncle Iroh decided that he had done all he could in the material world and chose to ascend to the Spirit World, leaving his mortal body behind and letting his soul make a new home there.

It was a decision that Zuko supports wholeheartedly, but still sometimes he wishes that Iroh is still around to guide him with his wisdom. Now he has this world of ruling and fatherhood that he has to navigate on his own, hoping that he won’t mess it up.

“Love, are you ready?” Y/N’s gentle voice broken his train of thoughts, pulling him back into the real world.

“Yeah... just thinking about... things” He replied lamely, reaching out for her hand which she gives. He always love playing around with her fingers, the contact brings him comfort.

“Don’t get lost in your head too much, okay?” She said, giving him a tender smile.

He stares back at the love of his life appreciatively and gives her a sure nod.

“I just... I don’t know how to feel, it’s like i’m scared of expecting anything if it’ll just put myself up for a disappointment. You know how much of a wildcard she is” Zuko said timidly, looking small and more vulnerable than he has been for years.

“I know Zuko, this must be soo confusing for you, i’m scared too but we’re in this together right? I’ll be with you every step of the way” Y/N assure him, trying to subdue his worries as much as she could. Rubbing comforting touches at his shoulder.

“Spirits, Y/N. What did I ever do to deserve you?” He leaned his head back a bit so that he can nuzzle it into her stomach.

She hums, “I don’t know, you must be a hero or something with what a great catch I am” She grins teasingly, easing up the tension.

She considers it as a triumph when her husband lets out a scoff of disbelief, “Woman you are unbelieveable” Shaking his head at her.

“Part of the charm, love”

To that he can’t help but burst out laughing.

Oh the married life.

———————————————————————

Azula stood on her own two feet, no longer bounded by straitjacket nor in a wheelchair. She stood as a free woman now. She wouldn’t go as far as to say ‘free and changed woman’ because some things just scarred too deep too remove but the therapies she undergo definitely did some good. So was the time she spent away from the capital and from the expectations she used to bear.

Now she stands face to face with Zuko, all out in his Fire Lord regalia. It suits him, not that she would admit that out loud, her pride is still very much intact after all.

“Should I bow to you now?” Her voice sends a cold chill running through Zuko, despite being locked away it seems that his sister managed to keep the bite in her.

“According to formalities you should, but no” He replied, feigning indifferent.

“Whatever you say, Fire Lord Zuzu”

Zuko’s composure cracks at the sound of his childhood nickname combined with what is now his title, one of his eyes twitching in annoyance. From his peripheral vision, he saw Y/N raising one of her hands in front of her mouth to hide her growing smile and a laugh that threatens to escape.

Even the guards who are standing by and thus being a part of this reunion seems to have trouble doing their part after witnessing this exchange. The sound of giggling little voices reaches his ears, at this he softens and put his hands on Izumi and Isao’s shoulder.

“Now who might these be?” Azula said as she redirects her line of vision to the source of noise, raising both of her eyebrows expectantly.

“This is my children, Izumi my eldest....” Zuko said while patting her head lovingly then he moves to do the same to his son, “And Isao, her younger brother”

Azula’s eyes roamed over them, taking in every features as if sizing them up, then she stops when she reaches their faces. Molten gold meets its exact pair, a courtesy of the royal family (superior) gene pool if she say so herself. That eye color might as well be their trademark after all.

“Well hello there little ones, i’m Aunty Azula” She said as she carefully took a step closer towards them. The guards almost block her away but Zuko raised his hand to signal them to be at ease and let her pass.

Izumi shrinks back, scared but at awe at the same time at her aunt’s cat-like movement. It’s soo smooth she looks like she is gliding across the floor and now she’s in front of them in no time. She may be 7 but she’s old enough to understand things, things that she heard people say in a whispers about her aunt whom she never met before. And that is enough to make her reluctant.

Izumi looked to her right at her little brother but Isao doesn’t show the slightest hint of being unfazed. In fact he looks intrigued.

There was a small awkward silence moment before a huge grin bloomed on Isao’s face, making his puffy cheeks even more prominent.

“Hey there aunty! i’m sooo pumped to meet you” He said innocently, excitement oozing from his very being.

Azula is caught off guard by such a welcoming reaction, this is not something that she expected at all. She never even realized her inadequacy in dealing with children until she’s finally forced to face one. What’s the first thing that she should even do? feed them flaming fire flakes? use them as target practice? Agni, Zuzu better not do anything stupid like leaving her with any of them.

Y/N watched as her sister in law seems to be frozen in place, looking at her son as if he’s an alien being. Who knew that the great Azula will one day be stupefied at a mere interaction with a 4 years old child? well the more you know.

“Sooo... lunch, anyone?” Y/N said, a pathetic attempt to break the ice.

Azula just walked past them without a second glance. Making her way inside the palace that she once called home, with Isao tailing behind. Small feet attempting to catch up to her long strides. Zuko and Y/N shared a glance at each other, to which he just shrugs and they too follow after her.

———————————————————————

A week has passed since she came back and Azula is adjusting pretty nicely, well people still cower at the sight of her and most of them stay as far as they can but not that she mind that.

Well everyone except this little bugger called Isao aka his brother’s second spawn. He loves following her around and looking at her with those annoying big round eyes, think that would work on her too huh? too bad she hates children. He really doesn’t know what’s good for him.

Tonight they’re having a family dinner. To formally celebrate her coming back or whatever. At least the food is good. The mouth-watering scent of smoked sea slug, roast duck, komodo sausages, extra spicy fire noodles, and fruit tart filled the air. It’s starting to look more and more like a feast instead of a nice and quiet family dinner. Trust her brother to always make a spectacle out of everything.

Azula was minding her own business, scooping bits of this and that into her plate when the empty chair beside her got dragged back by a pair of small hands. Isao’s round face greeted her as she watches his sorry attempt at climbing the chair. Grumbling, she picks him up and put him securely on top of it before he hits his head on the side of the table or something.

“Thanks Aunty Azula!” He said, giving her his signature wide grin.

“Ughh whatever kiddo”

Azula turns her attention towards the head of the table where Zuko and Y/N are currently sitting, haven’t yet realized that their son has disappeared from his designated chair.

Azula clears her throat, that successfully got their attention.

“Zuko, Y/N would you mind giving some help over here? it’s trying to bond again” A hint of awkwardness creeps into her voice, face scrunching, she’s even shifting left and right in her seat.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “It’s got a name, Azula and he’s your nephew so play nice”

“B-but....” Before she could voice her protest, the couple has already turned their attention away.

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, Isao’s curious stares burning into her.

Once she opens her eyes again, the boy is already stuffing his mouth full of sausages.

“I guess i’m stuck with you then” She said defeatedly as she watches him happily munching his food down.

———————————————————————

“You know you look exactly like your father when he was little” Azula said to the boy whom she’s babysitting, it pains her to even think about this. What were Zuko and Y/N even thinking when they decided that leaving their son to her care for the day is the best idea. Does she look like she’ll make a good nanny? Spirits, the audacity.

This carbon copy of Zuko is currently sitting beside the pond, with two little feets dangling in the water, creating small ripples here and there. The turtle ducks happily swam around him, waiting for him to throw in another good measure of breadcrumbs.

“Yeah I know that! Grandfather Iroh used to say that a lot” He said to which Azula scoffed and tsked under her breath, “Grandfather Iroh”

“Of course of course....” She said while lazily drawing patterns on the grass, “Good ‘ol Grandfather Iroh”

Isao stops his feeding session and crawled to where Azula is sitting.

“Do you know that my name means ‘honor’ or ‘meritorious’ ? How cool is that huh!? father picked that out himself” He said, wide eyed. Visibly bouncing in his seat while giving her this piece of information.

Azula lets out an incredulous chuckle as she shakes her head, “Of course Zuzu would choose something like that as a name, your father was obsessed with his honor” Drawling out the word obsessed to make her point clear.

“But I think it suits you, little one. So there’s that” She said giving him a shrug. That earned her a smile and Isao makes an exaggerated air fist pump, clearly pleased.

Azula reached out for the picnic basket that Y/N has earlier prepared for them, taking out the wrapped mochi and some tea. She then gives it to Isao, right on time as she hears his stomach rumble.

“Hungry are we? the mochi looks delicious but too bad the tea is already cold”

“Not to worry about that Aunty Azula! I got a little trick I can show you”

Imagine her surprise when fire sparks out of his fingertips, dancing on the bottom of the teapot, warming it quickly to a nice temperature.

“What?!?! how did you do that?” She said still pretty much in shock, watching as the fire slowly dies down.

“I once watched Grandfather Iroh do it, I haven’t figured out how then but now I can do it on command”

This boy really has no idea that he just executed a firebending trick perfectly didn’t he? warming up tea is a complicated form of art, it has to be done perfectly for the leaves and spices to fully release its essence. Such a raw talent in someone so young.

Come to think of it, even if he knows, he wouldn’t have thought about it too much nor dwell on it. If Azula got it right, Zuko’s eldest is a non-bender so Isao most likely or not has no experience in watching a firebending training.

“Kiddo, you can firebend? is there any other tricks that you can do?” Azula asked in an encouraging tone, this attitude is unusual coming from her but even she can’t deny that she has developed a soft spot for her nephew.

“I can create little fire here and there or warm myself up if I needed to but that’s all” Isao replied, looking her straight in the eye.

Azula hums as the gears in her brain is starting to turn, “Would you like me to teach you some things?”

Isao jumps up and down in excitement, this is all soo exciting! he is actually bonding with his aunt.

What an interesting turn of event indeed.

———————————————————————

They are in the middle of a rather pleasant dinner that night when Azula decided to break the news to her brother and sister in law.

“Do any of you know that your son is a firebender?”

The reaction that she earned is priceless, Zuko starts choking on his food whereas Y/N’s jaw dropped open, mouth forming a perfect O-shape.

“He hasn’t shown any sign of firebending abilities, we thought he’s a non-bender like his sister” Y/N answers for her husband because Zuko is still trying to clear up his air pipe.

“Firecracker, why don’t you show the trick that I taught you earlier?” Azula said to Isao, beckoning him with her fingers.

He excitedly nodded and turns to face his parents. He took a deep breath and concentrate, sparks of fire lights up from his fingertips. Slowly he guides the fire into forming a small circle in front of him, the circle then starts to take shape into a dragon, a fire dragon.

Y/N gasps as the shape becomes more and more prominent, flying across the dining hall but never too hot to burn anything. It’s an incredible thing to watch, she is indeed a proud mother. Even Izumi is enjoying the show, her eyes following the dragon’s every movement. Zuko is at loss for words, he can’t believe that his 4 years old son not only can firebend, but he’s damn good at it too. Azula may have discovered his potentials, but of course it’s up to him to mastered it.

Isao can only holds the form for 5 minutes before the fire burns out, after all he’s still young and has a lot more to learn, but that display is enough to make everyone clap their hands.

“Firecracker, you are marvelous! told you they’ll love it” Azula said as she moved one of her hands to tussle his hair teasingly.

Both Zuko and Y/N rushed from their seats to engulf Isao in a hug, Y/N peppering little kisses all over his face, meanwhile Zuko looks as if he’s high on cactus juice.

“Father, mother...stop....I can’t breathe” Little Isao complaints as he attempts to break free.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Y/N said as she bends her knees so that she can be at head level with her son.

“I want to do it right, mother. That’s why I learned some new tricks first before I showed it to you. I don’t want to accidently burn something” Isao replied.

“And you will do it right, son. I’ll make sure of it” Zuko said as he gaze at his son fondly.

“Yeah! you’ll be a great firebender, brother” Izumi joins in and smiles encouragingly.

Azula can’t help the small smile that tugs at her lips. This is a scene that she and the palace walls never got to witness before, a loving and supportive family. Zuko has done it right.

———————————————————————

That night as Azula makes her way down the corridor of the Royal Wing and passes by Isao’s slightly ajar bedroom door, she can’t help but sneak a peek.

The little boy is being tucked to bed by his mother, Y/N who sensed the presence of someone else turns her head around and gives her a small smile.

“Would you like to wish him goodnight, Azula?” Y/N asks her, inviting her in with a nod.

Azula nodded back and let herself in, meanwhile Y/N stands up and gives Isao a kiss to his forehead, “Sleep well my little prince” Azula can hear her whispers the word softly.

After that Y/N walks out of the room. Azula took a few steps closer to the bed and sit at the edge. Hands rubbing comforting circles at his blanket-covered feet.

“You know you’re literally a mini Zuko but I like you much much better than him, firecracker” Azula said in a teasing tone.

“I’m glad you think so Aunty Azula because I like you too! people said you’re scary but I don’t see it, I think you’re a nice person”

Isao’s words got Azula holding back a choked sob, her eyes starting to get watery. No one had ever told her that she’s a nice person. People just see her as this monster, even her own mother.

Coming back here was a hard thing for her to do, she never had a home anyway or anyone to come back to. That does not comes as a surprise to her of course, her family is as dysfunctional as they come anyway. But this little firecracker proved her wrong. Maybe she too deserves to belong somewhere after all she’s been through.

Azula gives him a smile and a kiss to his head, “Sleep well, firecracker” to which she got a “Goodnight Aunty Azula” back as a reply.

As Azula steps out of the room and closes the door slowly, she turns around and came straight in contact with Zuko, nearly tumbling to the floor.

“Why you..” Azula started before Zuko puts a finger in front of his mouth in a shushing motion, reminding her not to wake up Isao.

Zuko made a motion for her to follow him and she did, they walk side by side along the hallway.

“He’s really fond of you, you know” He said, staring straight forward.

“Agni knows why, but despite him being your son he is actually.... tolerable” Azula said curtly.

“You know you should learn to express yourself better, sister. Some emotions won’t hurt you”

“Are you just gonna lecture me or is there a point to this conversation?”

“Fine, fine” Zuko said as he rolls his eyes in a childish manner, “Will you be Isao’s firebending teacher?”

Azula stopped on spot, “Did I just misheard you or do you actually trust me enough to train your son?”

“Hey, you’re a great firebender! no one can deny that. I can’t think of anyone better to be his master, your moral compass might be crooked but that’s what me and Y/N are here for, right” At this he earned an elbow shoved to his chest.

“You don’t have to be so abusive you know” He mutters.

Azula gives him a grin, satisfied that she caused him a slight pain.

“I’ll teach him, not because you asked me to, but because I genuinely wants him to be even greater. He’s got potentials, Zuko” Azula said, more serious than Zuko has ever heard her.

“Yeah I know that, he’s a great kid”

Azula and Zuko look at each other, sharing a silent understanding, and gave each other a nod.

Zuko reaches a hand out for her to shake, “Truce?”

With no hesitation, she reaches out her own hand and take it, “Truce.”

They both then part ways but before Azula turns around the corner, Zuko speak up again.

“Hey, Azula?”

She turns around and raised one of her eyebrow, silently asking him what.

“I’m glad you’re here.... welcome home” Zuko said, giving her a small smile before he turns around and walk to his chamber.

Azula stood in that same spot even after Zuko’s silhouette has disappeared. Contemplating to herself, before letting out a sigh and a smile that is actually meant for her brother despite him not being able to see it.

“I’m glad that i’m here too, brother.”

———————————————————————

A/N : I’m a sucker for Azula’s redemption arc so I can’t resist myself from writing this one. What do you think about it? would like to hear more from all of you darlings ♥️

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the-crows-typist · 3 years

Text

Thank you for you patience on this, here is the first installment of the Valentine’s event with Jade and the word ‘Chocolate’ which was requested by @takumipineapplexd. Enjoy.

CW: For potential OOC and Slowburn with small bits of Angst

Word count: 6378

A Heart from Me to You

“Welcome to the Sweet Tooth, may I take your order?” Deuce says as the customers enter the café in an excited hurry. From your position behind him, you couldn’t help but smile at their reactions to the confectionary seen within your shop; they were your creations, after all.

“I’ll have the lovers’ bite with some black coffee…Oh, and a tuna sandwich with some extra chips.”

“Alright, please take a seat and your order will be with you shortly.” The young man motions them to a nearby table with comfortable chairs and when they giggled to themselves, Deuce got to work on the order given to him. Just as the loud clatter overtook your hearing, you looked away, drowning the voices out to concentrate on the batch of brownies that had been cooking in the oven, the smell of chocolate wafting through the air and mingling with the smell of roasting coffee. You were proud of your achievements and you were proud of the atmosphere you’ve cultivated through your hard work.

“Ah, come on. Let me pay this time!”

“No, let me. I was the one who took you out on a date.”

“That’s not fair! Why don’t we pay half?”

“Eh, but—?”

But through your hard work, you ended up skipping on the life most people your age have. While you created beautiful pieces of art with sugar and meat, couples young and old enjoyed them. While you went out to get supplies, others spent time with people they wish to build a life together with. You couldn’t be angry at them, they deserved the happiness they found, but there was always that pang of jealousy and longing of what might have been had you just looked away from your work for one second.

You shrug your shoulders, hearing the timer ring. Then again, things wouldn’t have been any different.

“Deuce, can you clean up table 3 for me after you deliver the orders? I’ll be preparing the brownies.”

He smiled and nodded his head enthusiastically “I’ll go right to it.” and got to work. You were grateful to have him by your side, though you often felt guilty for the times you asked him to work alone during the days you needed to restock and resupply. Despite his insistence that he was fine, you could see the small tinge of exhaustion in his eyes.

You let the brownies cool on the counter and watch the small business thrive on the love of your heart. You are happy to see it flourish but you couldn’t help the biting bitterness of a love you yearned in return. Shaking the feelings away, you go back to work and grabbing a bar of chocolate, some milk, and hot water. The brownies aren’t gonna garnish themselves.

The next day was relatively quiet, the two of you replenishing the stock of your products and making small talk between each other. Deuce talked about his family while you gave your own opinions and listened. It wasn’t until near completion that customers rolled around. Two tall waltzed into the café, both of them wearing apparel far too expensive for a visit to a small establishment.

“Welcome to the Sweet Tooth, may I take your order?” You took to the counter prompting Deuce to continue the restocking by himself. They looked like identical twins, only distinguished by their eyes and blank hair strands against messy and neat teal hair.

“Let’s see.” The one to your left said, his hand coming to his chin to think as he browses the menu. “I’d like a chocolate lava cake, the hamburger steak set…and some mint tea. What about you, Floyd?” He turned to his twin who had messier hair and droopy eyes. A small hum and he shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll have…french-fries. Ah, there’s flavors available, right?” Floyd leaned down and his towering figure making you falter but only for a while.

“Yes, we currently have cheese and sour cream at the moment.”

“I’ll take the cheese, then.”

With a motion of your hand, you guided them to one of your plush seats. “Please have a seat and wait for your order, thank you.” As they went, you look to Deuce who had the same expression of fear and surprise on his face. The two of you congregate together while working on the orders. “I could feel my heart leap outta my chest, they look so scary.” He whispered to you.

“Shh, don’t say it too loud.” You chided, bumping his shoulder lightly. “But you have a point.”

Deuce pulled out the fries from the fryer and let it cool just as you began setting up the hamburger set carefully and slowly heated the lava cake. “I don’t know what business fancy-looking guys have with our café but…Profit is profit. Are the fries ready?”

“Just gonna put the cheese powder. The water for the tea is ready.”

“Good. Clean up the area, I’ll be the one to deliver the order.”

��Sorry for the wait. Here’s the hamburger set, a chocolate lava cake, mint tea, and cheese fries.” You set the food down onto their table and set two small pieces of chocolate. “We have a special promo today that if you order a certain amount of food, you get one of our premium chocolates.”

“That’s wonderful, thank you.” The neater looking twin said just as his brother began eating the fries. You nod your head and gave him a polite smile. “Please enjoy the meal.”

The twins ate quietly, their eyes looking over your creations with healthy scrutiny. Floyd’s tongue slipped out of his mouth as he ate his fries and Jade took a bite from his hamburger. They both hummed, looking at each other as if communicating through their thoughts.

“My, such flavor.”

“Does that mean Jade likes the food?” Floyd leaned closer to his brother with a giggle. “We’ll have to see. Let’s finish this up, shall we? Would you like to split the cake, Floyd?”

Floyd stuck out his tongue towards his brother again and grabbed a fork. “Okay~. It looks pretty yummy too.”

The small cake was split between them and the aroma of chocolate hitting their noses.

“Jade, this is…”

“Indeed. Let’s finish up this meal and report to Azul, shall we?”

“I believe this will cover the payment.” Jade offered a card to you, allowing you to input the amount. “May I ask, do you create all the food you here?” As you give the device to him for his card number, you nod your head. “I do. Well, except for the core ingredients and bread I make everything I sell by hand with help from Deuce.”

“Just the two of you?” The receipt prints out and he takes his card.

“Yes, just the two of us. We are a small café, after all, so we don’t expect a long line of customers compared to more corporate and well-known shops.” You let out a small laugh, a hand to your cheek. “Though I wouldn’t mind a small line one in a while.”

Jade laughs along with you, his voice soft and calm yet smile so practiced. “I hope that it would one day happen.” He slips his card back into his wallet then produces another card, handing it to you carefully and respectfully. “I am Jade Leech and this is my brother Floyd, thank you for the wonderful meal.”

You take the card from him and he gives you one last smile before he leaves with Floyd waiting for him by the door. “We’ll come by and visit again one of these days.” Jade gives you one last smile and both you and Deuce were left alone in the empty café.

“The Octanivelle Co.” You read the card out. “Have you heard of this, Deuce?”

He drew a little closer and hummed. “No, not really.”

The two of you walked to the table the twins ate on and found the plates were empty save for a few crumbs of cake and cheese powder. The two of you exchanged looks and couldn’t help but smile. “Looks like they enjoyed the food.”

The door’s bell rings suddenly and an old couple looks at them from the counter. “Can we order some tea and cookies?” One of them asked with uncertainty and you quickly let go of Deuce and walk towards them. “Of course, what kind of tea would you like?”

Deuce looked at you with a smile, seeing your face now vibrant and happy. Just as he went back to his duties, he took the card into this hands and looked at the name. Jade Leech. Octanivelle Co. Why does it sound so familiar?

“We’re back!” Floyd announced just as he entered through the apartment door with Jade following close behind. Azul Ashengrotto had been reading some papers by the coffee table before hearing the two come in. He got up from his chair with a smile, a warm blanket over his shoulders, and clothes baggy and drooping. He looked quite tired. “Welcome back. How was the small trip around town? Did you find anything interesting?” Jade hands him a single piece of paper, a flyer. The young man’s eyes arched.

“The Sweet Tooth?”

Jade’s smile remained pleasant while Floyd plopped onto one of the comfortably plush chairs. “While we did go to the restaurants you asked us to sample, we chanced upon a small café with a wonderful array of pastries and confectionery. I had a nice chat with the owner who makes all their products from scratch.”

Azul brought a finger to his chin in thought. “And what of the food?”

Floyd leaned back on the chair with a hum. “I took a look at them while cooking. They’re pretty careful with food prep and had the right equipment on them.” He looked to the side, remembering how he stared at the owner as a way to look beyond what was allowed to be shown to him. “The assistant reminded me of a mackerel, always flopping around but pretty strong when it comes to it.”

“While I enjoyed the flavor, I think it would be best that you have a taste of it yourself, Azul. Perhaps The Sweet Tooth’s menu is exactly what we’re looking for.”

Azul looked at the flyer again. Its design was basic and borrowed and printing style, it was not at par with those used by more popular cafes. “I’ll take your word for it, thank you. Let’s schedule this for the end of the week.” The smallest of the three set the flyer down on the coffee table.

“Here’s your order of assorted chocolates, a cream and strawberry cake, and some black coffee.” Deuce put all the food into a plastic bag and set it for the customer to take. “Thank you for shopping at The Sweet Tooth, please come again soon.” Sighing, the boy leaned against the counter to stretch his stiff neck. With the last customer on the line gone, the shop was now silent; a cold object hit his elbow and you smiled at him, handing him the cold soda. “You look like you need some refreshments.”

He gratefully took the can from you and popped it open to take a swig. “I’m just happy that I got everyone’s orders to them on time. I know we can handle it but boy does my arms hurt.” You stood next to him and shrugged your shoulders. “Cakes can be deceiving, can’t they?” He nods his head and continued to drink the soda. “But now that it’s the end of the week, I can surmise that we’ll get a few more customers.” You whisper to yourself then look over to Deuce. “Why don’t you take a break? I’m sure you’re tired.”

“But…”

“It's fine a good ten minute rest won’t hurt, right?”

Just as Deuce was about to say something, the bell rang as the door opened, three people entered your establishment. Two familiar and one not. He wore clothes that both fit and hid his figure, his hair neatly styled and white, his blue eyes scanned the quaint shop he just entered. “What a lovely aroma.” He commented. “Is that chocolate?”

Nodding your head, you took your position by the register. “Indeed, sir. Ah, I think I remember serving your friends a few days ago.” You turned to the one with slightly messy hair. “Mister Jade Leech, right?” The three of them chuckle and Floyd pointed to his brother next to him. “Wrong Leech.”

“It’s quite alright. The two of them have told me about your shop and I’ve decided to try some of your food out. I’ve heard nothing but praise from the two of them.” Your cheeks flushed and your heartbeat was sudden, a smile formed on your lips. “Ah, I’m so happy you think that!” you exclaimed but quickly clear your throat when the twins chuckled at your reaction. “Might I suggest our roast beef sandwich? Oh, and a nice slice of chocolate cake??”

The small man nods his head. “As well as some tea, for three please? Mint will do.”

“Understood. Please take a seat while we prepare your order.”

“Thanks for waiting.” You set down the order on the table along with the tea and three cups. Azul lets out a hum of approval when he smells the food. “It’s as Jade says, it smells very good.” The other twin, Jade, chuckles. “They used their spices quite well, don’t they? I have to doubt in my mind that it will be an enjoyable meal.”

“Ah, shucks, I don’t deserve such high praises. I’m just following the recipe.” You say sheepishly, scratching the back of your head as Azul took a bite of the sandwich. “Recipe? Did you get all these outta some cookbook?” Floyd wondered. “Most of the food here is my Uncle’s. Ah, but, the sweets are mine.”

“Are you a family business?”

“Yup. The business went to me after my Aunt retired, I’ve been running it ever since with Deuce.”

Azul swallowed his food and licked his lips. “Interesting. This Deuce person is your assistant, correct? Is he a recent hire?”

“No, he’s my cousin. We’ve been working together since the business was passed down. As for assistant…Honestly, we’re each other’s assistants, sir.”

Jade leaned back against the plush seating, his long legs splaying out. He looked like a model with his clothes on, the way his dark turtle neck defined his face and his light-colored long coat accented his look further. Oh geez, you felt yourself staring and decided to look to Azul. You could hear him chuckle at your movements and you felt this petty frustration boil in you.

“That’s all we wanted to know, thank you,” Azul said to you and catching himself. “Ah, where are my manners? Please, call me Azul. Might I ask for some extra water for the tea?”

“Of course!” You take the teapot from the table. “One moment. Please enjoy your meal.”

Once you were out of sight, Azul took a bite into the cake and his eyes went wide.

“What do you think?” Asked Jade while Azul continued to eat.

“I think we found it.”

“The meal was lovely, thank you.” Azul reached into his pocket and produces some bills. “I’m surprised you don’t have customers coming to you in groves.” Shrugging your shoulders, you input the amount and slip in the bills. “I wish for that to happen but I don’t think Deuce and I can handle it with how we are now.”

You hand Azul the receipt and he looks through it, quiet for one moment. “Say, do you do catering?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Shame.” He pouted but moved to take a card out of his pocket. Azul Ashengrotto. Octanivelle Co. Your eyes widened at the familiar name. Was this Azul working with Jade and Floyd? “Come along, you two.” Just as the two walked out, the resting area’s door burst open with Deuce clutching his phone to his chest and face full of surprise. “You gotta see this! I can’t believe—!”

The trio left as Deuce approached you quickly. “I searched for Octanivelle Co. Look at all this! Their brands, the events!!” He pushed the phone to your face which you swatted in surprise. “The CEO’s name is Azul! That was him, right? Azul Ashengrotto?! He ate here!”

You moved quickly and ran outside the shop in your uniform, chocolate stained apron and all, to find the three. Oh, you should have known! You should have known!! You turned the corner to the nearby train station and soon as you moved to turn another side, your eyes collided with a dark-colored wall.

“Oops.” Said the person you bumped into, a pair of hand-holding your shoulders lightly. “Are you alright—Hm, aren’t you…?”

Jade Leech tilted his head down at you and you pulled yourself away. His shocked expression turned into a knowing smile. “Ah, I see.” He says and you’re sure you’re starting to feel the strong urge to pinch this man’s cheek…If you only you could reach him. “Azul, someone is looking for you.” He said to someone behind him as he let go of your shoulders.

“It’s you. What a pleasant surprise.” Azul’s smile was just as conniving as Jade’s but you could save the petty anger for later. “You asked about catering, right? I’ll do it.” You breathed in again. “But I need to know what you’ll need first.”

Azul’s back was straight and head held high as if he was triumphant in battle. “We need your food for my sister’s wedding.”

The shop was closed for the day as per the suggestion of Azul, the two of you using the time to discuss and plan, to add and remove, to agree and disagree. “Okay,” Azul began, tapping his pencil on the table. “My sister loves strawberry shortcake so that will be the flavor of the wedding cake. The other finger foods will be the smaller version of the—.”

Deuce stood by the counter away from the two and watching Jade and Floyd rummaging through the kitchen and adjusting themselves to the environment. “When will the wedding be?” he asked, looking to one of the twins. Floyd pulled out a can of condensed milk before looking at him. “In few months, three or four, I think. Enough time to get the order done.”

Jade sets down some cups of tea and tea leaves. “When Azul sees something he likes, he won’t stop at anything until he gets what he wants.” He pours some water into a prepared teapot and added the leaves. “He has enough resources to make his vision a reality.”

“But with just the two of us…” Deuce’s words trail off as Azul continued his speech.

“I’ll have Jade and Floyd help you with your preparations.” Your eyes widened and you looked to the two twins standing at the ready, Jade smiling at you while Floyd waved. “They are fast learners and have been trained in many culinary techniques, just show them the ropes of your establishment and they’ll do the rest.”

You could feel yourself flush at the sudden act of kindness. “T-thank you very much, Mister Ashengrotto. I won’t let you down.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He leans to look at the twins, nodding his head. “Jade, Floyd. Be here first thing tomorrow morning, you’ll be learning The Sweet Tooth’s recipes to perfection.”

“Understood.”

“Got it.”

The twins smile in unison, your heart feeling the heavy pressure of the responsibility put onto you while Jade poured each one a cup of calming tea.

Training the twins and running the shop took a bit of time to get used to. You made sure the schedules lined up and two people were always available at the counter at any given time. In the kitchen, you stayed with each twin and made sure they understood the recipe.

Floyd was a natural but often very flimsy when something different catches his attention. You often had to pat his back and tell him to be careful with adding ingredients. “Add the sugar in little by little. Good. Now mix until you’re to make ribbons easily.” You say, guiding his hand by holding his wrist.

“This takes a lot of work…My wrist is starting to hurt.” He complains and you pat his back. “The molds are the fun part. Just a little more and we’ll get to that, okay?”

Just as you move away from Floyd, Jade had just come out of the walk-in freezer with his mold in hand. “Ready for the testing?” You asked as he carefully set down the flimsy material and turning it over to let the pieces carefully slip out. Jade’s work was the polar opposite of his brother with actions precise and instructions followed to the tee.

“As I’ll ever be.” He says, handing a piece to you.

As you chewed, you felt the burst of chocolate hit your tongue and you let out a small noise of approval but there was something in his creations that unnerved you. It was perfect. Too perfect. “It’s good…But it lacks.” You say and Jade’s eyes widen a small bit. “I do remember adding all the ingredients as per the recipe.”

“No, no. It’s not about that. Your handling of the ingredients was perfect and precise but…” You take another bite of his chocolate and continue to chew the piece yet feeling nothing in it. You backtrack a little bit, scratching the back of your head knowing that your next explanation was going to sound stupid to those who don’t understand the concept. “Ah, how do I explain this? It isn’t just the balance of sweet and bitter, you need to put your feelings into it.”

The silence that followed was nerve-wracking and you couldn’t help but cough into your hand. “I-if that made any sense.”

Jade’s smile was what brought you a small ounce of relief and his hand on his chest. “I understand,” He says. “I’ll improve on that as we work together.”

“Hey, chef, can you taste this for me?” Floyd called out to you from behind. “I can’t get the balance right.” You turned around and hurried over to him with a spoon. “Let’s have a taste—Ack, it’s so sweet! What did you put in this?”

Jade’s hand never left his chest, his palm feeling the steady and soft beat of his pusher. “My feelings, huh?”

“It’s quite festive outside.”

Deuce grunted, setting down a box full of milk and following Jade’s eyes to the crowds of people gathering and walking outside. “Ah, yeah. The town has a special night market that pops up once a month. Even people from outside of town come here to check it out.” Jade begins piping the cream covered cake and carefully decorating its top. “Really?”

“Yup. They like it since it’s a nice time to relax but recently, it’s become a place where people like to have dates.”

Jade laughs and begins adding the strawberries on top and sprinkling powdered sugar. “I’m sure the two of you have had your fair share of dates then?” Deuce scratches his chin, remembering his dates. “I have a few times.”

He looks to his cousin, watching them laugh with customers. “But I get guilty having to leave the store to them while I’m out having fun.” He hands a carton to Jade which he stores overhead. “They keep saying they’re fine but I can tell they get tired. They’re not very good at hiding it.” Deuce sighs and takes the box again and moves to the freezer. “They always put the shop first and I’m happy it’s still up and running. I just wish they knew that it was okay to have fun.”

The air was cool and the roads silent, you took a deep breath in after staying in the café for so long. Just as you were about to take the in the signboard, a pop of color and voice of awe distracted you from your activity. Fireworks colored the sky with bright colors, the wind blow again and offered you comfort after a long day. To your left, a couple held hands as they watched and you forced yourself to look away and begin to take the signboard from the ground.

“Good work out there.”

Something cold touched your cheek and Jade stood over you with a glass of water. “Thanks for helping out too. You and Floyd were a big help.” He took a sip of water just as more fireworks flew into the sky. “Do they always do this?” He asks and you shake your head. “Not often. But it’s beautiful to look at, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve seen the fireworks.”

Jade looks to you just as another rocket soared into the sky, the colors of pink and blue, red and green, illuminated the sky in a grand finale. Its colors reflected in your eyes, the shine of the light against your skin that cast a different glow to your sweaty face, he blinks then looks back to the people with their loved ones clapping their hands.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You look down at your cup of water and chuckle bitterly. “It is.”

“You didn’t have to accompany me on a supply run, y’know?” You say as Jade helps load butter and sugar into a basket. “I would but your cousin was worried about you being tired so I decided to tag along.” He smiles at you in the most cryptic way imaginable, you couldn’t tell if he was making this all up or Deuce was trying to set you up.

“Besides, we’ll be working together for a while so it’s only right that I get used to the routine.” He took another look at the list and reached for the fruits too high up for you to take. While his height had been a bane, it was also a kind of blessing for reaching high places. “Now, what should we get next?” You look through your list and nod your head. “That’s all of it. We can grab a quick bite to eat before heading back.”

Once leaving the store will all the bags in tow, the two of you walked the streets. “How come you didn’t go to the night market yesterday?” He asked, your eyes looking to him. “You let Deuce go but he eventually came back to help.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look away with a pout. “Someone needs to look after the shop, that’s all. Can’t have the business suddenly tanking because of monthly market.”

“Besides…” Jade’s eyes widened slightly, seeing such an embittered grin on your face. It seemed that you had been hurt by this before. Your brows furrowed and eyes closed in a weary smile. “With all I’ve done, I don’t think I have time for that anymore.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—.”

“It’s fine, it’s just personal experience on my part. Let’s go back to the shop, Floyd and Deuce are probably wondering where we are.”

Jade continued to walk beside you but his eyes never watching as the bitter smile relax to one of content and nostalgia. He looks forward, thinking of something to say yet wondering if he should say anything at all.

“And that should be the last piece.” You say, popping the last chocolate strawberry into the container and sealing it. Floyd takes the box and chucks it into the freezer. “This warrants a celebration, don’t you think?” Deuce nudges Jade’s arm. “I hope you got everything prepared.”

“Of course. It’s only your company that’s needed.”

Your confused expression is what prompts Jade to motion you to follow him to the back. “Follow me.” The four of you walk deeper into the shop and you begin to smell a charcoal grill and hear the crackling of a fire. A small party area had been made. A clay grill and some meat laid out to be cooked.

Floyd let out a noise of happiness and you looked to Jade. “Surprised? Good. Let’s enjoy the meal.”

The four of you were merry as you ate your fill of meat and assorted vegetables, Deuce and Floyd sharing their own stories while you and Jade listened. At first, you didn’t think the two would get along but seeing them be so comfortable with each other made you smile.

“Will I see you at the party?”

Jade had poured himself a cup of tea and looking at you expectantly; your stunned silence was what prompted him to explain a bit more. “It is only right that you attend, you did agree to supply delicious food for the wedding.”

“Oh, uh…I suppose I can go. I might need to get a wardrobe check first.” You took a bite of the meat and chewed. “Though, parties like that tend to get wild as the night progresses right? It’d be nice to see you getting wild.” He took your tease in stride and chuckled. “My, is this an excuse not to see you at play as well? I’m certain your hand and eye coordination in sweets making will extend to your ability to dance.”

You hit his shoulder slightly, cheeks flushed yet smile wide. Your dancing skills weren’t anything to be proud of but you could keep a beat. You swear on that!

Jade laughs, his brows furrowed and shoulders shaking. “What I mean is, you’ve worked all this time. It’s time for you to have fun.”

Fun. Your shoulders hunch over with a smile on your face. Jade sets down pieces of meat on the grill while you think. You had spent so much time at The Sweet Tooth making things from the bottom of your heart. You had spent so much time skimping and ignoring what could have interested you for so long that it made you question if you deserved it? The fun most people you know have, the happiness they found and cultivated.

“Ah, I almost forgot.” Jade reaches down and pulls a box. “You did say that my work lacked a certain something so I’ve been practicing with the help of Deuce and Floyd.” Opening it, the smell of chocolate hit your nose. “I think I’ve perfected it.”

You pop a piece into your mouth, the sweetness and bitterness mingled and taste whole and honest. As you chewed, you tasted the memories and the conversations you had with Jade up until this point. His teasing remarks and his honest comments. It was perfect.

His look was expectant. “Well?”

You swallowed the sweet morsel and smiled at him, nodding your head “Well done.”

The wedding was beautiful, the ceremony was solemn and the dance floor was filled with people dancing together. You were dressed in your best attire and nursing a drink in your hands. “There you are.” Azul’s voice pushed through the noise, behind him was his newlywed sister. “This is the owner of The Sweet Tooth, they’re the ones who made all the sweets,” Azul said with the bride, his sister, next to him. “Your sweets are the best. Everyone loves them!” She says, taking your hands in hers. “Your strawberry cake is delicious, I couldn’t stop myself from taking another slice.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” You say, smiling at the infectious sweetness of the newlywed bride’s smile. “Please, enjoy the food to your heart’s content.”

She nods, shaking your hands. “Enjoy the party! You’re welcome to dance with us if you’d like.” Azul chuckled as his sister ran to entertain the guests. “That girl, always too excited for her own good but I’m glad she’s happy. Thank you for helping, I really appreciate it.” You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not a problem, Mr. Azul. Just seeing people happily eat my creations is enough for me.”

Nodding his head, he moves to step away. “Do enjoy the party.”

The music shifted to a slow beat and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sudden shift of mood as the guest scrambled to dance with their respective partners. Your loneliness wouldn't sit for long when Jade took to your side. In his hand was a plate of strawberry cake.

“Enjoying the food?”

“I’d be lying if I wasn’t.”

He continues to eat while you watch the people dance in the center, the bride and her groom waltzing it away in the center with foreheads connected and smile wide. “Would you like to dance?” Jade looked down at you, his hand at the ready. You hesitated for a moment before taking it and walking with him to the dance floor.

The music was slow and so were your movements. Jade’s held your hand as you spun around slowly, the distance between you and him growing smaller and smaller. “Having fun?” He asked just as the lights dimmed to match the mood of the floor. “You always ask lots of questions, Jade.” You said, leaning your head to his chest. “I can’t help but be very curious, that’s all. I only want to make sure everything I do is satisfactory.”

You spun again, changing sides. “So you’ll only act if the person likes it, then?” He chuckles, eyes furrowed and sharp-looking teeth showing. You never admitted to it but, seeing him this way made him look so cute. “When you say it that way, you’re making me up to be some kind of boot licker.”

“Ah, c’mon. There’s no harm in making people happy. But you gotta think for yourself.”

“How ironic of you to say that.”

You stuck out your tongue at him in defiance and he laughed again just as the song shifted to one more intimate. “But…If I were to have things go my way.” He pulled your hands a little closer and letting go to let them settle on your waist, rocking you side to side. “I would want you to stay a bit longer.”

Your foreheads connecting and your noses almost touching. “That’s what I want.”

The hands on his chest bundle into fists, your cheeks quite warm. “I-if…If that’s what your heart desires.” Did you really deserve this kind of happiness? You asked yourself that millions of times yet never thought to answer it yourself. Did you deserve the singing feeling in your heart after ignoring it for so long?

“Then, will you dance with me again?” He asked, your body shivering as he held you close to him,

“Yes.”

The wedding ended and the guests began to leave. You stood at the edge just as the taxi you flagged down came to a crawling stop. Jade stood behind you with his hand holding yours. “Well,” You say, turning to him with a smile. “This is goodbye, then. The wedding is done and the customers are happy with the food. A perfect run, don’t you think?”

“Indeed.”

The two of you stood together for a while before you spoke to break the silence. “Thank you for tonight, Jade. I had lots of fun.”

Your heart soared remembering the dances you had with him but it soon plummeted to your stomach knowing it would probably be the last you’d do that with him. “I’m glad.” That was all he could say, “I’m glad you had fun.”

Nodding your head, you turned around and opened the car door. “Yeah. Real fun. Goodnight, Jade.” He nodded his head and your hand slipped out of his hand you. He put his hands behind his back and watching you speed off home, his tall figure growing smaller and smaller as the distance between you grew.

“Where to?” Asked the taxi driver.

You sniffle, looking away with a sigh. The moment of happiness you felt became a distant memory to come back to. The answer to the question you’ve always asked yourself was all too clear to ignore. You spared no second in answering.

“Baker’s Street.”

The new day had started and you thought it couldn’t get any worse. You had slept through your alarm and Deuce was nowhere to be seen. Hastily donning your uniform, you sprinted your way to the shop only to see loads of boxes being hauled in. Deuce watched by the door.

“Deuce, why didn’t you wake me up? What’s going on here??”

Your cousin gave you a questioning look that turned into realization. “Didn’t Azul tell you? He was planning a visit after the wedding.” Azul and his sister, as if on cue, walked out of the store. “Good morning, sorry for the mess we’ve caused.”

“N-no, it’s not a problem really but what are you doing here?”

“Everyone loved your foods last night and thought to have breakfast here before leaving. Deuce told us you were short on hands so I had the twins help out.” Deuce chuckled and scratched his head. “You looked so tired that I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Azul, everything’s ready.

Jade came out, his apron stained with oil and hair slicked back. The two of you alock eyes with one another for a split second. “Right. Let’s have a nice meal, shall we?” He and his sister went back in and leaving you alone. Deuce was quiet with his exit, only letting out a small laugh as he left you alone with Jade.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” You scratched your cheek with a small laugh. “I didn’t expect to see you again so suddenly.” He drew closer, taking your hand in his. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?” In your hand was a piece of chocolate, the very first thing you taught him to make.

“I just wanted to make sure everything is perfect.”

You popped it into your mouth and chewed. The morsel was not too sweet and not too bitter, the memories of the both of you making your heart soar to the heavens. “What do you think?” The hold on his hand never left yours.

“I think you’ll know what I say.”

He chuckles, moving with you to enter the shop. The bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue for longer than it should. Your fingers intertwined as you turned the sign over, signaling a new day of business at your shop. This was your happiness.

#works from the typewriter #twsited wonderland #jade leech #g/n reader #jade leech x reader #jade ficlets #valentines event

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