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andromeda-nova-writing · 6 months

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Can't Get What We Want Without Knowing

Fem!Reader

Summary: Words can have so much meaning behind them and that is before knowing how people will interpret the same word differently. It’s a thing that can make simple concepts much more complicated than anyone could have thought it to be. With the things Wriothesley has gone through ‘I love you’ was a sentence that he would rather never hear.

Words: 3,397

AN: @thesteambird 's Uncommon Acts of Love Event. I love how behind we all were on posting and writing for this event. Love that for us lol.

This fic touches on Wriothesley's past and briefly discusses the murder of his adoptive parents. It also goes into the trauma his adoptive parents have caused. If that feels too heavy for you to read at the moment, I recommend you look at The Honor of Trying Not to Step on Your Foot or A Sticky Situation. Both are Fluffy fics that do not approach this topic.

Beta read by @swordfish-ii, @milkstore. Thank you so much for looking over this fic. I appreciate it. Thank you to @paimonial-rage for doing my final check on one of the paragraphs I struggled more with. The three of y'all are the best!!!

Y/N walked into Wriothesley’s office. Her movements were tired and slow. Working a shift on the surface before directly coming to the fortress to work a second took a lot out of her. It wasn't common that she would work back-to-back shifts. She knew her limits. She held on tightly to the staircase rail as she made her way up the stairs.

“Are you in here Ri?” She called out as she went up only to see him sitting at his desk highly focused on the documents in front of him. Knowing him, it was probably accounting paperwork for the fortress he was working on.

He looked up. “I thought you would have left already.” He had only seen her once today which wasn't for long. He was only in the Infirmary to grab some paperwork from Sigewinne real fast. They didn't even get a chance to talk as she was working with a patient.

“I got caught up with something. Ended up staying past when I was supposed to leave today.” She could feel her eyes droop. A yawn took over her. She took her jacket off and threw it on the empty coffee table.

“I can arrange to have someone take you home if you like.” He offered.

She shook her head before moving close to him and taking his lap as her seat. “Just let me sit here till you are done.” She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“I’m working.”

“Work around me. I missed you.”

He sighed. “You can't be serious right now.” He looked down at her. She looked so peaceful cozying up on him. “You know I have a couch in my office for a reason.” He couldn’t bring himself to peel her off of him.

“The couch isn't you. I didn't miss the couch.”

He tried to hide his smile with a sigh. “You are really something else right now.”

“I’m just tired. That’s all.”

“I know that. That’s why you should lie down somewhere comfortable and not sit on me. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your rest just cause I have to work.” He tried to appeal to her sense of reason.

“I made sure to leave your writing hand free. You're interrupting my rest by talking to me right now.”

“This can't be comfortable.” Even though for him it felt extremely comfortable to have her curled up on him. How much he just wanted to give into this.

“Oh, it's very comfortable.”

“What happens when I'm done working?” It was the only opening Wriothesley was giving her to convince him out of his work.

“Just let me nap here for a moment. Figure that out later.” She really was just tired.

“You could just go sleep in my bed.” He offered. “It can't be that comfortable lying up on me while I'm dressed like this. At least let me take some of all these metal bits off of me.”

“I won’t fall for your tricks to get me up.” She lifted her head off his shoulder and moved her arms around his neck. “You aren’t getting rid of me right now.” She kissed his cheek before laying her head back down partially on his shoulder and her arm.

He rolled his eyes. “Is there really nothing I can do here to get you to sleep somewhere comfortable?”

“Accept fate. It’s late, you can’t be working for that much longer anyway.”

“Did Sigewinne tell you I’ve been up late in here?” He asked trying to find a reason he was being used as a pillow even though she would normally go to sleep on the couch in his office if she needed to rest.

“No. Have you been staying up later than normal?” She lifted her head back up looking at him. “Do I need to tell Sigewinne it's worse than we think it is?” Y/N asked with a raised eyebrow as she looked for bags underneath his eyes.

He looked away from her gaze. “You know I’ll be up later if I can’t focus.”

She frowned. “I did say I would just be here asleep on you. You are the one who keeps talking to me. You could have been back to work so long ago Ri.”

“Look it’s just easier for me to get things done when I can focus with no one else is in the room.” He looked back to see her frowning. “I’m fine with you here. I just need some space. Just give me an hour, I promise I can walk you back home or get you somewhere comfortable to sleep here tonight.”

She sighed before agreeing to his simple request. “Okay. That’s fair I guess. Just an hour?”

“Just an hour. Promise.” He kissed her cheek as a way to seal his promise.

“Can I at least have your coat as a blanket?”

“Sure, if it makes you happy.” His jacket was already on the back of his chair.

She placed a quick peck on his lips. “I love you,” Y/N spoke quickly before grabbing the jacket and moving to the couch in the office to make herself at home.

Wriothesley froze up on her words. They were said so quickly and casually like it was natural for her. Those words shouldn’t be natural. A horrible thought ran through his head, ‘was she lying?’

‘I love you’ was a sentence that Wriothesley would rather never hear. He heard that sentence too many times to count as a child. Even to this day whenever he hears that sentence, he would tense up. It was an issue that he knew solely belonged to him.

It was easier to hear that sentence when it wasn’t directed at him. When those words or any form of it was spoken to him, all Wriothesley could think of was when he was a child. It brought him back to when he found out what his adoptive parents were really doing. And on the worst days, he could clearly remember those as the first words they used against him as he worked on freeing himself and his adopted siblings. Their ‘I loved you’ was a clear lie they spoke trying to stop him before fighting to keep their lives.

Having the only people who ever said they loved him being the same people he had to kill twisted his feelings on those words.It was all he could associate those words with. Lies and betrayal. It was all he knew behind those words. He gulped down the air caught in his throat before loosening his already loose tie that suddenly felt like it was choking him.

He could have sworn he worked through this already. Shouldn’t admitting that he wished he could have a happy childhood and that he had a load of trust issues from his childhood be enough not to feel this frozen? ‘I love you’ brought him right back to how he felt as a kid hearing those words for the last time.

“You know Ri, for someone who wanted an hour to focus I hear no writing going on over there. Are you such a math genius that you can just do everything in your head?” She stared up at the ceiling as she curled up under his coat.

He looked over at her with unneeded suspicion. Was Y/N lying to him? Was she just saying that she loved him? What could she be doing in the shadows that would come to light? When would she betray him? He knew it was wrong that those questions were going through his head but he couldn’t stop from wondering. The questions just got louder in his mind. ‘Was she lying?’

The lack of response filled her with more curiosity than worry. She sat up with a quick yawn before looking at him. “You okay Ri?” It was a question she didn’t think too much about when asking. She was blissfully unaware of the effect her proclamation of love was causing.

The warmth in his face looked drained. Warm eyes she would normally compare to a puppy in his time around her since they began flirting now looked cold and calculating. He didn’t look like her boyfriend. He looked more like the Warden of the Fortress of Meriopide. But even that description felt wrong. His eyes felt darker than that. Something that she didn’t know.

She knew she was safe around him but something about how off he looked made her stay put. “Wriothesley what’s wrong? I know accounting is a lot to deal with but I’ve never seen anyone look like they are about to break a pen over some numbers.” Giving him space while she was assessing the situation felt like the best move.

He looked down at his left hand. She was right. The pen actually spilled ink on his hand as well. “I’m gonna go clean this off.” He got up from behind the desk fast. “I’ll have a guard come get you and take you home.”

“Wriothesley? What’s going on?” She repeated the question as she got off the couch leaving his jacket behind, beginning to follow him while also trying to keep some distance between the two of them. Concern was fully flooding in her mind.

They literally just agreed on what was to happen less than five minutes ago. He had already had opened the door to his office to let the guards know the new plan. She was shuffled out of his office so fast they didn't get to talk. And with the sound of a lock on his office door as she was standing on the outside sealed any chance of conversation. That was it.

She didn't even get to know what was wrong. It was all she thought about on the long walk home as she moved in silence with one of the guards escorting her. It was just so confusing. It didn’t help that she was rushed out so fast she didn’t even have time to grab her own jacket.

It made the next day awkward for her shift at the fortress. Part of her wanted to be petty and angry at being thrown out so suddenly but she couldn't bring herself to it. It all just felt so off. It was hard to be properly upset when things just felt wrong.

It was honestly a miracle that Sigewinne had let her stay in her thoughts so far throughout the morning. She may be curious about how different Humans are from herself but she wasn't oblivious to when a person needed space. It was also what Y/N was trying to do as well. Give Wriothesley some space. He clearly needed it if she got kicked out so suddenly with no explanation.

There were footsteps entering the infirmary. Y/N knew they couldn’t be Wriothesley’s. His steps were heavy with the weight of his boots and the clank of the clothes as he walked. These steps were much lighter and she could hear heels as well. “Hello girls!” A warm voice greeted.

Y/N looked up from the desk she was giving a quick clean. “What brings you here Navia?” She thought for a moment thinking back at the schedule that was open on Wriothesley’s desk last night. “Wait, you were discussing the optimization of delivery routes for the fortress.”

She sighed. “It was exhausting. I even managed to get a paper cut. We aren’t even done yet.”

“How bad is it?” Sigewinne asked.

“Not too bad. But I needed a break for my sanity.” She looked over at Y/N. “I have no idea what you see in that man. He’s worse to deal with than normal.” She complained.

“He’s still out of it?”

Sigewinne was in the middle of grabbing a band-aid. “I know he wasn’t doing well when I saw him early this morning. I thought you said you hadn’t seen him today.”

Navia came in and sat on the bed. “Did something happen?”

“No, yes, I have no clue.” Y/N let out what she had been holding in. “So yesterday I had a shift above ground and one here. Unplanned, I had a coworker call out sick.” She reminded Sigewinne before she could say anything.

Sigewinne stayed quiet as she brought over the band and a few items to clean the small paper cut.

“So I was tired and a bit clingy. I hadn’t seen him in a few days. I missed him. So instead of going home I went to his office ‘cause it was after dinner, I knew he was going to be in there just doing paperwork.” She explained. “I may have been a tad too clingy but I backed off once he said that all he wanted was an hour to do his work. I gave him a quick kiss, told him that I loved him, took his jacket, and went to get cozy on the couch. I then got kicked out and a guard escorted me home. I still don't even have an explanation for why. He wouldn't even talk to me.”

“That doesn't even make sense of why he's so out of it.” Navia agreed.

Sigewinne finished up with the paper cut on Navia’s finger. “No, it makes complete sense.”

Both of the women raised their eyes looking at each other before turning their confused expressions to Sigewinne.

“He has a hard time when someone tells him that they love him. He doesn’t even like to use the word love.” This was something Sigewinne knew wasn’t her place to explain everything, but it was better than leaving Y/N in the dark. She was one of the few people that he had told his entire thoughts on this too. It took the years of him here and spending time in the infirmary for the two to grow close before he even took up the position he has today. The trust he had within her wasn’t something she’d even think of breaking.

“There's a big difference between a hard time and completely shutting down,” Navia explained.

Y/N sighed figuring out what happened. “I wish he would have just told me.” She slouched. “How upset with me do you think he is?”

“Maybe it's more conflicted?” Navia suggested.

“Regardless I feel shitty. I really do love him. I don’t want to hurt him.” Y/N covered her mouth after realizing she cursed. “I’m so sorry Sigewinne.”

Y/N was normally good about not cursing in front of Sigewinne. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard cursing before but she appreciated everyone's attempt to keep their mouths clean around her. It didn’t bother her to be honest but for Y/N to curse in front of her confirmed how much what had happened was stressing her out.

“You should go talk to him,” Sigewinne recommended. “Everything I’ve read says communication is essential in relationships.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk and just kicks me out again? I really didn’t know.” Y/N’s voice was filled with worry yet her words held with the strength of someone who knew at the end of the day it wasn’t her fault for what had happened.

“Then I’ll knock some sense into his head,” Sigewinne spoke trying to lighten her mood.

“How about I come back here when I’m done? That way you know when to go in and talk with him,” Navia offered.

“I would appreciate that.” All Y/N could think of was how to make things as right as she could.

Y/N took a breath before opening the office door. At the very least she would get her jacket back if she chickened out.

“I know I requested my lunch to be brought in today but isn’t this a bit early?” Wriothesley called out from above.

Y/N made her way up the stairs. “I don’t have your lunch.” She stopped at the top of the steps. “Can we talk?”

He looked over before promptly looking back down at the paperwork in front of him. “You’re on the clock. I don’t want to interrupt your work.”

“I’m on break and it's been a very slow day.”

“I have work to get done.” He tried using his work as an excuse. Looking over at the papers piled on his desk, the side that contained finished work was piled high. If anything he was probably ahead at least for a few days.

She frowned before glancing around the room. “Where is my jacket? I didn’t get the chance to grab it before I had to leave.” She gently reminded him.

He sighed before placing his pen down. “I put it up. I’ll go get it for you.” Wriothesley got up from behind his desk.

“I’ll go with you.” Taking care of her jacket had to be a good sign at least.

“No need. Just enjoy your break. I’ll have someone go bring it to the infirmary in a bit.” He tried walking past her to the stairs.

She grabbed his arm completely on instinct, something she hadn’t planned on doing. “You should know it’s hard to enjoy a break when I don’t even fully get to know what happened last night. Can we please talk?” She pleaded as she looked at his eyes trying to find thoughts within them. “Sigewinne can only tell me so much.”

He didn't meet her eyes when he took a breath. He felt shame in what he needed to ask. “Are you lying to me?” He desperately needed to know before he could pull those walls back down. They were something that he thought he could have fully down, but now he wasn't sure.

“No. I meant it. I'm not the kind of woman who expects you to say it back immediately but I do need some context on why you shut down on me.” She let go of his arm feeling that he would run away from this. “I don't want to hurt you. But I'm not going to be with a man who refuses to communicate with me on stuff like this.” It was something she hoped she wouldn’t have to put her foot down on.

“How much did Sigewinne tell you?”

“That love is a hard word for you. That you don’t care for it being told to you. She kept it to just that.”

“I think I’ve been pretty open about how I feel about my childhood.”

“You tend to avoid details but I remember what you went through from what you told me.” It was hard for either of them to look eye to eye. Their gazes focused on the floor below them.

“They,” his foster parents, “constantly told us how much they loved us. Showered us with those words till the day I- well, you know.” He wasn’t one to share every single detail of the murder he had committed. It wasn’t something he enjoyed reliving but it would be something he would have to carry with him till the day he dies.

His foster mother lied through her teeth. Hearing her say ‘I love you’ trying to lure him into that false sense of security just for his foster father to cause one of the many scars that were on his body. It haunted him. It probably was the moment that cursed that sentence for him.

“You could have warned me. I wouldn’t have said it.”

“I thought I was ready to hear it by now.” Wriothesley looked out the corner of his eye trying to read her body language.

She sighed before turning to look at him. “Things like that happen and it’s okay. Everyone has days where the things we carry hurt more. If anything I should have backed off and given you space when you asked me to.”

“I was okay till you said those words.”

“I won't say them again then. Not till you’re ready.”

“Did you really mean it?”

“I did. And that means if I have to change how I express that, I will if it means not making you relive something that you don’t want to. I care about you. I want you to remember that.”

He reached out for her hand. “Let’s go get your jacket.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she held his hand. “If it isn’t too much, do you mind if I have lunch in here with you?”

“How about dinner instead?”

“I’m good with that.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #steambirduncommonacts

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

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HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnilingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I decided to drop the last five chapters to this story at once cuz I'll be EXTREMELY busy with my summer job & I'm also working on a new fic. Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story! I had so much fun writing it. I'll be writing some brand new shit soon! Stay safe! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*********

TWENTY-TWO.

As May turns into June, the first week is rainy, cloudy, and depressing–the perfect weather for how you feel on the inside.

You sit in your office now, dressed in a silk black blouse and slacks that make your ass look like it’s the finest one in the world.

However, you don’t take pleasure in that or the fact that today has been pretty slow. You haven’t had any student traffic or other responsibilities, so you’ve had time to sit around, eat snacks, and nap if you want to.

But you don’t. Instead, you busy yourself with building your schedule for next week. You sit at your desk with your planner, writing down any errands you have to run or meetings you’ll have to attend. An unopened bottle of iced coffee sits next to you–the one thing that will keep you running until lunch comes in an hour.

Outside your window, the cherry blossom trees tremble slightly as the storm wind rushes through along with the pitter-patter of rain. You hope that it won’t be like this when you leave today. You just hate water.

A knock on your door stops you short of writing down that you’ll have to make a grocery run next Saturday morning. Nemuri stands there in a slim navy blue dress that fills out her curves and her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. For the past week, she has been visiting you with snacks, drinks, and encouragement. Though you appreciate it, it hasn’t been working much to turn your frown upside down.

“Hey, you,” she gently coos. “Mic and I are goin’ out tonight to the Hot Spot if you wanted to join us. Rumi and You will be there too.”

The sound of a night with the pros drinking and dancing doesn’t sound the least bit appealing to you…which definitely means something is wrong. Usually, you’d jump at the chance to spend a Friday night out, but even the idea of putting on your sexiest attire and dancing the night away makes you tired.

“I’m good, ‘Muri,” you reply, giving her a reassuring smile. “I need to work on my schedule for next week anyway. I’ve got a lot to do.”

Nemuri nods, but you see the disappointment in her eyes. You advert your eyes from her face, instead looking back down at your calendar where you scribble down “do laundry” for Sunday. You hear her come into the room, her heels clicking as she does. “Mic and I have been missing you,” she softly says. “You’ve been MIA for a minute now.”

You don’t say anything. You cap your pen and push your calendar away before taking out a manilla folder for student reports. At the end of every month, you’re required to jot down notes on students’ progress for their teachers and parents, just to let them know how they’re doing.

Nemuri leans against your desk, frowning as you uncap your pen to begin writing on Bakugou Katsuki’s report. “You’ve been working hard for the past week, honey. Why don’t you take a break?”

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head. “These student reports aren’t gonna write themselves, Nemuri. Not to mention I have parent and staff meetings next week and…” You stop talking, something in you telling you to do so. You look up at Nemuri who is wearing a saddened expression on her gorgeous face. “What?” you sigh, already knowing the answer.

“Have you talked to Aizawa lately?” she timidly asks you. You scoff to yourself. She already knows the answer to that: no. You haven't even seen the man. You’re starting to think he was just a figment of your imagination with how quickly he seemed to disappear from school. You barely see him in the hallways, elevators, or cafeteria. He hasn't called, but neither have you. After how much you’ve hurt him, you doubt he wants to speak to you.

And you can’t blame him. With how long you've been lying to him and Eri, you know he never wants to see you again. You don’t even want to see yourself. Every day you wake up and look in the mirror to get yourself ready for the day, you desperately want to shield your face from view. It is the face of a liar. The face of someone who is deceiving and selfish. You barely want anyone to see you at school anymore. You just want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

You reach for your iced coffee and proceed to try and open the bottle, your fingers grappling with the cap that seems to be stuck. “No,” you reply, not meaning to sound so tight, but you can’t help it. “Why are you even askin’ me that? You know Aizawa and I haven’t spoken since that night he found out about the cat thing.”

And God, does it hurt. All you want to do is hear his luscious voice or see his gorgeous face. All you want is him, and Eri. Those two have completely stolen your heart. But you know you fucked that up.

Nemuri silently watches you struggle to open your coffee. “He misses you, you know,” she softly says. “I’ve seen him lately and he’s not at all the same as before when you were with him.” Your heart leaps at her words, but they only do so much to make you feel less like a fucking loser. You can miss someone and still know how horrible they are. You’re sure that is how Aizawa feels for you. He may miss you, but you know for a fact that he goes out of his way to call or see you. And you deserve that.

“Is this what you came in here for?” you demand, glaring up at your friend. “To make me feel bad about what happened? Well, I already do. I feel humiliated and stupid for what I’ve done, but this is the price I have to pay for lying to him.” You grunt in frustration, your wrist straining to open the bottle. “Goddammit, this cap won’t loosen!” you hiss.

After another short turn of your wrist, the cap finally loosens and pops off the bottle before skidding across the floor with a metal clink! Both of you stare in silence at the cap for a moment, breathing heavily at the short but loud sound and the intensity of the situation. Finally, Nemuri breaks. Soft, sputtering breaths exit her mouth as she begins to cry and you stare up at her in shock. “I’m sorry!” she softly sobs. “This is all my fault. I never should’ve said anything! Now you and Shouta are miserable all because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut!”

She covers her face with her manicured hands, her shoulders shaking. Your heart breaks at the sight of your best friend crying on your behalf. Especially since none of this is her fault. “Nemuri,” you sigh, guilt flaring inside of you. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t be taking my anger at myself out on you.”

You get up from your seat and move to wrap your arms tight around her. She hugs you back, her tears soaking your blouse. “None of this is your fault,” you comfortingly say. “It’s all mine. I should’ve told Shouta the truth right from the jump, but instead, I was selfish.” You pull away slightly to give her a view of your downtrodden eyes. “I haven’t been doing that well this past week either,” you confess, already choking up.

Nemuri’s brows knit in worry. “Have you been going out at night?” she asks, her voice low as if the walls have ears. You shake your head as the tears you’ve been holding back for so long begin to well in your eyes. “Not at all,” you answer, your voice breaking. “I have no motivation to do that anymore.”

Even now your Night Claw fit sits under your bed, untouched and unworn for over a week. You moved it from your hiding place behind the dumpster, not seeing the need in keeping it hidden or outside since you haven’t been in the streets lately. You ignore police sirens at night and anything that comes up on your crime app. You have no interest or energy in catering to your city anymore, especially since the main reason one of its prominent pro heroes was down in action is because of you.

And then poor Eri…how is she handling all of this? First her dad is hurt, and now her furry friend disappears for good?

You crumble right then, tears dripping down your face that destroy your mascara. “I just miss him so much, Nemuri,” you sob. Nemuri nods, encouraging you to continue to spill your guts to her. “But I can’t bring myself to call him or visit or–”

“Ah, Ms. L/N!” You both jump, whipping around to see Nezu standing in the doorway. The small smile that plays on his face fades when he glances at your faces. “Oh…am I interrupting something?”

“U-Uh…” Nemuri quickly snatches some tissues from your desk, handing you some. “Of course not, Principal Nezu,” she replies, respectfully bowing to him and using that advantage to dab at her eyes. “I was just asking Ms. L/N about a particular student I had in here today.” You don’t respond, instead silently wiping the tears off your face. You make a mental note to touch up your makeup later.

“Oh!” Nezu exclaims in realization. “Well, in that case, I apologize for the random visit, Ms. L/N. I just wanted to check up on you and see how you’re enjoying UA so far.” You blink at him, your brain slowly processing his words. “O-Oh!” you stammer, clearing your throat. You plaster on a smile despite still feeling like shit. "Well, please come in.”

As Nezu thanks you and walks in on his little legs, Nemuri tip-toes to your office door. “I’ll see you at lunch,” she mouths to you before quickly exiting your office, shutting the door on her way out.

You stand there awkwardly, feeling like a hot spotlight has been put on you as you stand with your boss in your office. “Would you like something to drink, sir?” you ask, presenting to him your mini fridge.

“No, thank you,” he chuckles. “And please, feel free to sit. I just want us to have a chat. You’ve been such a great asset to UA for the time you’ve been here, especially to the students.”

You take a seat behind your desk as he hops up into the chair across from you. “Thank you, sir! It’s been a great and rewarding experience working here with the staff and students. I love what I do.” And you’re not BSing. You truly love your job despite your personal problems right now.

Nezu seems to know this too. “I can tell,” he hums appreciatively. “Which is why I decided to visit because I can tell you’ve been looking pretty low lately.”

His smile fades and your stomach drops into your ass. “I’ve noticed it as have others. Though you’re still here and consistent with your work, you’ve been acting differently. You’re usually so upbeat and refreshed, but for the past two weeks, you’ve seemed…down. If it’s too personal, please feel free to tell me so.”

Your shoulders slump and all you feel is shame. So now even your boss notices your change in demeanor.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you sigh, internally exhausted. “I’ve just been going through some…personal battles. I’m trying hard to fight them though, so please don’t worry about me.” You plaster on a fake smile that Nezu sees right through.

“Oh, but I do, Y/N,” he says matter-of-factly. “I don’t think you understand just how needed you are here. The students need someone kind and nurturing like you to talk to about their issues with. The teachers need you too. They can only handle so much! Your personality is such a breath of fresh air too. It’s influenced me, the students, and the other staff members…especially Aizawa.”

“A-Aizawa?” you softly stammer, your heart fluttering. “I don’t–”

“I’ve never seen him so upbeat,” Nezu continues wistfully. “He’s almost an entirely different person with you here. He’s happier; more…energetic. I’d imagine he is very grateful for what you did for him and Eri.” His black eyes gleam with something unreadable but it makes your stomach flip flop nervously. “I-I’m sorry, sir, but I don't think I understand.”

He is more than happy to enlighten you. “Word around campus is that you attacked the villain Toyoma when he broke into Aizawa’s dorm. People are saying you were already in the room and quite literally tore Toyoma’s face off. I know because I saw it for myself.” He leans in as if afraid someone might hear. “I also know about your, uh…night job.”

You swear you could die right now. Of course, your boss knows that you’re Night Claw. And of course, he’s going to fire you now. You’re going to lose everything. You grip the underside of your desk, your claws digging into the wood.

Nezu just smiles. “You don’t have to look so scared, Y/N,” he chuckles. “I’m not upset. Do you know how many of our kids here have done the same thing? Besides, you’ve proven to me that you’re not a threat and still an incredible staff member with how you continue to handle the students’ problems.”

He leans over the desk to pat your hand, almost as a friend would. “We need more people like you here, Y/N. People whose bright personalities rub off on others. Please don’t ever lose that.” His eyes twinkle with generosity and kindness–two things you feel as if you don’t deserve. “Sir…” You don’t know what to say. You can’t believe this is happening. You’re not going to get fired?

“I know things may seem hard right now, but if you ever need a hand, we’re all here for you. Just continue to do your best and I’ll take care of the rest, okay?” He winks at you, an encouraging smile on his furry face. “Keep up the good work!”

You feel as if you just won an award with how bright his smile is. Your claws retract and you release your death grip on your desk. “Thank you, sir,” you softly say, afraid that you may cry in front of your boss.

“Of course!” he chortles. “Now off to lunch for me! Enjoy the rest of your day!” He hops off of the chair and waves to you as he exits your office. “You as well, sir!” you call, a giggle in your voice when he shuts the door behind him.

When you sit back in your seat, you feel better than you have for days after getting that praise buff from your boss. It is exactly what you need to put you into a good headspace, just enough to tell Nemuri that you’ll be taking your lunch alone today. You need some time in the fresh air to clear your head and find comfort in yourself while you gather the courage to finally talk to Aizawa.

So you decide to go for a walk downtown for a bite to eat. You’ve heard of a sandwich shop there that is extremely popular plus one of your favorite cafes being a choice. The air is clean and warm, and the sky is blue when you lace on your sneakers and take your walk.

As you make it downtown, people are out and about enjoying the mid-afternoon weather, jogging, walking their dogs, and sitting at tables under cute little umbrellas as they enjoy their meals outside. When you make it to your favorite cafe, deciding to go for some coffee and pastries as your lunch, the outside eatery is already set up with customers enjoying their coffee in peace under the sun.

As you make your way to the door, your hand reaches to pull it open, and you hear the sound of pounding footsteps behind you. You turn, jumping back just in time as someone comes zooming down the street, running at full speed.

“Jesus,” you hiss to yourself, glaring at the woman. She is in casual clothes–no activewear at all for the type of activity she’s doing. You pass it off as some kind of running club or her possibly being on some shit.

But as you go to reach for the door again, another person runs by. Then another. And another. What grabs your attention is their attire: some wearing work clothes; others not even wearing sneakers but still running like their lives depend on it. You and the customers sitting by you stare at them in confusion, baffled by the change in atmosphere. “Da hell?” you mutter, confused.

You get the answer to your confusion when a man wearing office attire runs by, panic and fear all over his face. “Everyone, run!” he hollers. “There’s a villain five blocks away from here! He’s destroying everything!” As if on cue, the sound of rattling cuts through the air, and a burst of water explodes from a sewer down the street, causing a car alarm to go off. As the water shoots into the air like a bullet, the people that were initially sitting and enjoying themselves beside you leave their posts, following the running people up the street.

But you don’t. Despite your fur prickling and your ears pointing backward in alarm, you walk straight toward the danger zone. Even when you see more people running your way until you’re nearly trapped in a sea of escaping civilians. You press yourself against nearby buildings and inch deeper and deeper into the city. As you do, the destruction surrounding you gets worse–all you see are cars flipped over, cracked pavement, and water gushing from sewers and broken pipes. Your sneakers become soaked, ruining your stockings.

The water problem only gets worse when you finally come to the city square and see the bullshit awaiting you. A sea of people and police cars surround a giant, quirk-made whirlpool that protrudes from a sewer in the middle of the street and towers over everyone and everything. From where you stand you can see that someone is, in fact, holding the whirlpool together themselves. A man floats in the middle of the whirlpool like a centerpiece, his limbs and locs streams of water that suck up water from the street, making his creation bigger and stronger.

In front of you, the police have their guns drawn, some trying to keep the civilians at bay while the rest attempt to get a good angle of the whirlpool. The one closest to you urgently screams into his walkie-talkie, distress in his eyes. “I need backup!” he hollers. “I repeat: I need backup! We’re running out of officers and there’s only so many pros who can handle this asshole!”

‘Pros?’ you think. So far, you haven’t seen any single pro here. But as someone from behind you pushes you deeper into the crowd, you get closer to the whirlpool.

There, in the watery depths of the whirlpool, are eight officers and several pros you know and recognize: Houndog; Vlad; Mirko; Mt. Lady (out of her giant form); Midnight; and Present Mic.

With that many pros in his trap, you know this villain isn’t someone to fuck around with too lightly. You barely have time to process where this dude even came from when someone is landing in front of you and the other civilians, startling you when his boots hit the pavement.

You know who it is even before you see his long, black hair and hear the excited screams of the crowd. He turns, giving you a view of him looking oh-so-yummy in his hero gear, goggles, and scarves as the afternoon sun turns his black strands of hair into spun gold. You can’t help it. You immediately begin to push through the crowd until you finally slip through, ignoring the officers who yell at you to stop.

“Miss, you can’t go through there!” one of them yells, but you ignore them, too focused on getting the pro in front of you to pay attention to you.

“Shouta!” you shout, cringing at the squelching sound of your wet sneakers in the street. It is completely flooded, ruining your shoes and sloshing against the hem of your skirt. Aizawa immediately turns around, his eyes widening behind his goggles at the sight of you.

“Y/N?” he asks, baffled. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You winch slightly at the harshness of his tone, but you won’t let it slow you down. You probably would’ve reacted the same way.

“I was out for lunch and saw all these people running,” you reply before nodding at the whirlpool and the man at the heart of it. “What is he?” you breathlessly ask, still taken aback by how large and powerful the whirlpool is.

Aizawa glares at the villain. “Says his name is Aqua Master or somethin' like that. He’s been wreaking havoc with his water quirk all afternoon now. So far, he has over eight officers and several of our pros in there.”

He pauses to take off his goggles and pinch his sinuses, his eyebrows creased. The stress of the situation is written all across his handsome face. And with no other pros here yet, he’s the only one here to stop this Aqua Master bitch.

“Let me help,” you interject. He stares at you like you just told him you’re pregnant with his baby. “You just told me you’re losing people and I’m sure it’ll take a while before you get backup. I can help the civilians evacuate or–“

“Absolutely not,” he firmly replies, his expression a hard glare that makes you flush. “This is way too dangerous for you and you don’t have enough training.”

You go to argue against this, but you’re interrupted by the sudden water-formed hand that juts out of the whirlpool and scoops up a nearby truck to toss at an oncoming cop car miles down the street. The cop car immediately swerves out of the way only to crash into a street pole and totally ruin the front of it.

Aizawa raises his eyebrows at you as if to say, ‘see what I mean?’

But you’re not backing down. You don’t care how dangerous this mission is. Toyoma’s mission was dangerous too and you ended up saving Aizawa’s life. ”You let me come with you to get Toyoma,” you sharply argue.

Aizawa rolls his eyes at your attempt at arguing with him. “Yeah, and you almost ended up off a damn building splattered on the pavement.” Your ears droop in hurt at his jab. Though he is right, he doesn’t even know the kind of trauma you faced from that. The nightmares you still have dangling off of that building and the nothingness in Toyota’s eyes.

He must see that he went too far because his expression softens. He sighs, running a tired hand over his face. “Listen,” he says, his voice hushed, “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.” He steps away from you and puts his goggles back on, preparing for action. “Just stay in your line, alright? I’ve got this.”

As he wraps his scarves around a nearby traffic light, he is nearly taken out by a blur of red that zooms between you and him. “Jesus, Hawks, watch it!” he angrily shouts, gripping his scarves.

You look up, finding Hawks perched on the same traffic light Aizawa has his scarves wrapped around. He raises his goggles over his unruly, blonde hair, his red wings looking fluffy and soft to the touch. “Sorry, Eraser!” he huffs, looking irritated by the villain and his BS. “I’m dodging this shit as best as I can, but this bitch won’t quit throwing these cars at me!”

The hairs on your body suddenly rise at the sense of something coming. Your eyes flit to the whirlpool where you find a giant, watery hand reaching for Aizawa.

“Eraser, watch out!” you yell, but your voice is carried away by the sound of police sirens and rushing water. Hawks manages to escape by flapping away, but Aizawa isn’t as lucky. You have no choice but to watch as Aizawa’s scarves are yanked off of the traffic light by the hand and he is pulled into the rough currents of the whirlpool.

“Oh, shit!” Hawks gasps, staring in awe as his coworker is pulled into the whirlpool just like that. “I’ve gotcha, Eraser! Just try and hold your breath!”

He flaps away into the blue sky above, flying above the whirlpool’s opening. There is no way he could get in there without getting stuck too, you realize. The cops won’t be able to get to the villain either without shooting someone. It’s way too risky to fire a bullet into that whirlpool.

This fight needs someone else…something else. Something tinier. And you know just the thing that can work.

Without another thought, you push your way through the crowd again and you’re spit back out into the clean, cut grass of the city square’s park. It isn’t that far from the villain, but enough to hide away from him and his quirk behind the bushes and trees situated here.

You look up and find Hawks perched in a tree, squatting on the thickest branch there. He stares at the villain in determination, obviously trying to come up with a plan until the other pros get here.

You decide to help him out. Hoisting your foot up on the tree trunk, you grasp the lowest branch and pull yourself up until you have enough leverage to hoist yourself up on the branch. You do the same to the others above you until you are finally on a branch at the same level as Hawks, kneeling behind him.

“Hawks!” you hiss, startling him so much that his wings ruffle. He turns around, squinting confusedly at you. “Who the hell are you?” he questions.

You begin to introduce yourself, but you’re cut off by the sudden heat that nearly singes your eyelashes off coming from behind you. You turn, finding yourself facing the Endeavor, decked out in his hero gear and sporting his aflame moon boots. Your stomach flips in panic at the sight of him. He truly is an intimidating person.

“Endeavor!” Hawks shouts as if he’s seeing an old friend. "You showed up! Is anybody else showin’ up soon? Please tell me Gang Orca is comin’.”

Endeavor ignores him, his green eyes cutting across to you. “Who the hell is this?” he grumbles, scowling at you. You swallow hard, almost afraid to speak, but you won’t let this man catch you slipping. He’s just a human. A person.

“Night Claw,” you reply, giving him a friendly smile despite his hardened stare. “Listen, I don’t mean to interrupt your fight, but you’re never gonna get to that guy if it’s just the two of you. He’s too powerful and he already has one too many pros held up in his trap.”

Endeavor’s stare only gets more intimidating. “So what do you suggest we do?” he cooly asks. “All of sudden, you’re gonna tell us how to do our job?”

“Hold up, Enji,” Hawks says, Endeavor’s jaw setting at the mention of his birth name. “Let’s hear her out.”

You raise your chin and square your shoulders, refusing to be spoken to by the pro. “To jog your memory, I’m the same vigilante who stopped that bank robbery and did your fuckin’ job before any of you could get there. I had them all tied up and ready to be arrested except for one.”

Endeavor’s eyes widen an inch at the harshness of your tone––and the balls you’ve got to talk to him in such a way. Hawks snaps his fingers in recognition. “Yeah, now I remember you!” he happily chirps. “That was you? Damn, girl, you must got some serious skills.”

“Yes, and I know how to use them on this one.” You nod at the whirlpool that seems to have gotten bigger. It’s now towering over the tree you’re perched in.

“If we can get close enough, we’d need something sharp to destroy that whirlpool, and I’ve got just the thing.” You flash your claws at them, earning a chuckle from the winged hero. “Hawks, I’ll need you to fly me up over the whirlpool so I can jump inside. Endeavor, you’d distract him with your quirk. Maybe turn the water up too hot for him so he doesn’t notice me.”

Your plan dawns across Hawks’ face. “Ohhh, I see. It could work and at this point, we’re out of options since some of our best are MIA.” He turns to the Endeavor, stroking the stubble on his chin. “What do ya think, Endeavor?”

Endeavor’s forest-green eyes continue to stare you down, making you increasingly uncomfortable. “You’re a vigilante?” he acerbically asks you. Though your stomach flips in panic at being found out, you nod. “So you’re saying you’re not a trained, professional pro hero? You don’t have a license?”

Again, you nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage. “I have every right to turn you in to the police,” Endeavor growls, his eyes hot with disgust. “And if you continue to stand in the way of my job, I will. Stay in your lane, little girl.” With those words hanging in the air, he floats off toward the whirlpool, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

Hawks sighs heavily, looking at you apologetically. “Sorry about him. He’s a hothead, as I’m sure you’ve got already.”

But you’re not upset by Endeavor’s words. If anything, they only make you want to snag this villain even more. “I don’t give a fuck about what he says or if I’m arrested,” you determinedly growl as you begin to climb down the tree. “I’m helping my friends whether with help or not.”

Hawks watches you go, his expression unreadable. “You’re friends with Eraserhead?” he curiously asks. You nod, grunting as you lower yourself down each tree branch. “And Midnight and Present Mic. We work together at UA.” Hawks quirks an eyebrow at this newfound information. “You a teacher?”

“Counselor,” you correct him before getting back on the subject. “Those three are very special to me and I didn’t fully appreciate how much they had my back until now. I’ve been terrible to all of them, so now I have to make up for my stupid decisions.” When you’re finally at the last branch, you let your legs dangle for a moment before jumping down, hitting a squat once on the grass.

When you look up, you squeak in surprise at Hawks now towering over you instead of sitting in the tree. He reaches a gloved hand down for yours, his golden eyes friendly.

“Then I’ll help you out,” he says with a quirk at the corner of his mouth. “That’s the best declaration of friendship if I’ve ever heard one before.” Your heart leaps for joy, relieved that you have help. With a grateful smile, you take Hawks’ hand and allow him to help you rise to your feet.

After a moment of getting situated and Hawks advising you to “take a breath ‘cause it’s a bumpy ride”, you find yourself flying in the air with Hawks’ arms securely wrapped around your midsection as he zooms towards the whirlpool. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest and your eyes water as the wind hits them, causing you to blink rapidly.

The crowd of people you once stood in looks like ants now. The cop cars, trees, and buildings surrounding the area appear to be no more than miniature toys with how high up you are. But no matter how afraid you are, you don't dare move or change your mind. Not when your friends need you.

“Higher, Hawks!” you shout among the wind in your ears. “I need to be directly above it! Damn, can’t your wings go any faster?” Hawks grunts above you, his wings straining against your body weight. “I’mma try but shit, you ain’t exactly light as feather, furry.”

You don’t need to hear anything else. With one slow inhale, you shift into your feline form in Hawks’ arms. When he realizes that he is now holding a tiny, black cat instead of a whole person, he loses his shit. “Holy shit!” he laughs. “Talk about a quirk!”

Now having an easier time flying, he flaps his wings up to the very top of the whirlpool until he is hovering above it. Down below is the hole traveling down into the depths of Aqua Master’s creation, along with your friends and the other innocents trapped in the watery grave.

“I’m as high as I can go,” Hawks grunts above you. “It’s all on you now, furry.”

Without a warning, he releases you and drops you down into the whirlpool, but you’re ready. Inhaling deeply, you shift back into your human as soon as you sink into the water. It is not as dark as you envisioned, but clear enough that you can see the dozens of bodies the villain collected––including Aizawa. He is farther at the bottom, his scarves and hair floating around him like seaweed.

Anger floods within you as you swim towards Aqua Master who is still front and center in his whirlpool. When he senses you, he turns towards you, his locs floating around his head in streams of water. He scowls at you, probably wondering how you got in here.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, his voice rough and clear as day. You don’t give him a proper introduction. Instead, you charge at him and wrap your limbs around him, pushing him against the wall of the whirlpool.

With one hand outstretched, you extract your claws and slash at the whirlpool’s wall. The little tears are enough to send the entire whirlpool to hell. Water begins to pool out of the tears until the liquid monstrosity is no more. Instead, it begins to pool into the streets, flooding them even more. The crowd below you moves back as bodies, including yourself and the villain, tumble down out of the whirlpool.

You feel like a fish out of water as you tumble onto the street with Aqua Master below you, your limbs still wrapped around him. You gulp down air and cough violently at the water in your lungs, soaked to the bone. Now you hate water even more now. You doubt you’ll be able to properly shower after this without having this come back to you.

You’re so involved with trying to breathe normally that you barely see Aqua Master’s next attack until he’s throwing you off of him. With a grunt, you hit the ground on your back, but you don’t have enough time to react.

The villain is now standing above you, his limbs and hair now in physical form. He presses his foot into your chest, causing your windpipe to close up and your body to fight to breathe. You gasp and choke around his foot which continues to push into your chest, making it much harder to breathe.

“Now you’ve gone and done it, bitch,” he snarls. "You really thought you was doin’ somethin’ tryin’ to fight me. Now you’ll die just like the rest of these stupid ass people.” He then kneels above you, trapping you beneath his body, and loops his hands around your neck.

“No!” you choke only to be silenced by a sudden wall of water encasing your head. You try to scream, but only air bubbles escape your mouth. “Have fun swimmin’ with the fishes, bitch,” the villain growls, his stare cold and deadly.

This is the second time you’ve faced death by a villain, you realize. You can’t help but wonder how is it for actual pros to face something like this? To constantly be on the brink of death and not wondering if there’s an alternative career path they could take?

Your head suddenly becomes light and your eyes flutter, all thoughts and questions jumbled. Your lungs begin to burn and you know that it is only a matter of time until death takes you…

Only it never does. The water surrounding your head disperses and you gasp in air, desperate for it. Aqua Master is now lying on his side, completely knocked out with Nemuri standing over him. She, too, is soaking wet, her mascara running and curls ruined, but she is still a knockout. You breathe a sigh of relief, mostly at her being okay rather than being saved by her quirk.

“Y/N!” she gasps, stepping over the villain’s body to kneel before you. “What are you doing here? Are you hurt? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

Mic also comes to your aid, his sunglasses off and looking like a wet cat. He offers his hands for both you and Nemuri, pulling you to your feet. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he says in a stern tone that you’ve never heard from him before. “Y/N, that was very dangerous what you just did.” Nemuri nods, glaring daggers at your stupid decision.

But you just can't feel embarrassed. Seeing them standing there, still caring for you despite your bullshit, is all the confirmation you need to know that you did the right thing. You throw yourself at them and wrap your arms tight around them, squeezing their bodies to yours.

“I’m sorry,” you softly say, on the brink of tears. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’m just so happy you’re safe.” After a moment of silence, the two hug you back and Mic comfortingly strokes your hair. “Thanks to you and your crazy self,” Nemuri sighs, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

As laugh and pull away, giddy with joy and the feeling of accomplishing something impossible. But all of that giddiness fades when you see Aizawa lying face up yards away from you, his eyes closed and chest not moving. “Shouta!” you shout, immediately racing for him. Fear floods inside of you.

‘No…please, no. Don’t take him from Eri.’

You kneel beside Aizawa, scooping the back of his head into your hand. “Shouta, can you hear me?” you softly ask, your eyes flicking wildly across his face for any kind of sign of life. As if God hears you, Aizawa’s eyelids twitch once and a tiny groan leaves his lips. “Oh, thank God,” you sob, your thumb stroking his wet cheek.

His eyes then slowly open, revealing two charcoal irises that stare in a daze into yours. “Y-Y/N?” he croaks out. “Why did you…did you…”

He searches your face for an answer, even being soaking wet and nearly facing death. You shake your head, still gently stroking his cheek. “I know you told me to leave, but I couldn’t,” you sob. "I’m sorry I’m so stubborn. I just couldn't face the thought of you being in danger.”

Slowly, Aizawa sits up, grunting as he does. You move away from him to allow him space to breathe and move, but all he does is stare at you in awe, his plump lips parted. “Y/N, I–“

“Get your hands off of him!” The roar of Endeavor’s voice causes you to scramble away from Aizawa, your ears back and tail poofy with fear. You turn, finding Endeavor standing there with several police officers, a glare on his face.

“I specifically told you to stay out of the way and you didn’t listen to me,” he chastises you as if you’re his daughter. “Chief, that’s her. That Night Claw girl who has been prancing around without a license or a degree as a pro for months now!”

The middle-aged, bald man standing beside him in a police chief uniform looks from the pro to you, his expression unreadable but still scaring the absolute shit out of you.

This is it––you’re going to get arrested. You’re going to lose your job. No one can help you now; not Aizawa, Nezu, or Mic and Nemuri who come to your aid. Not even Hawks who swoops down to land between you and Endeavor. “Enji, what are you doing?” he demands. “This girl just saved half of your coworkers’ lives!”

“And yet she doesn’t have a license to practice saving lives, does she?” Endeavor snaps. Aizawa suddenly steps in front of you, blocking you from Endeavor’s angry eyes glaring into your soul.

“She works at UA, Enji,” he growls, his rage barely being contained. “She’s a counselor. The kids there have enough problems already that some of us professors can’t handle. She’s needed there, and I’m not gonna let you take that away from them or her.”

Endeavor's eyes turn into sharp slits that target Aizawa, making your stomach flip in panic as if they’re about to fight. “And I’m not going to have anyone make a mockery out of being a pro hero,” he snarls. “People go through so much stress training and studying to get a license and degree to be a hero. People risk their lives every day to protect this damn city.”

“And so did she!” Nemuri argues, her face red with rage. “If you got your head out of your ass, you would’ve seen what we did for all of us!”

Endeavor opens his mouth to rage on, but a sharp whistle sound cuts through the air, silencing all of you. The police chief drops a whistle from his mouth and stares you down, intimidating but not as fearful as Endeavor’s stare is. He eyes you up and down, sizing you up.

“So it’s you?” he asks, not at all sounding angry. “You’re the reason street crime has been going down?”

All eyes flick to yours, waiting to see if you’ll deny it or stand in your truth. Because you don’t want to lie anymore, because you want to be the best person you can be, you step from behind Aizawa’s big, tall body, presenting yourself to the chief. “I’d like to hope so, sir,” you softly reply.

The chief suddenly looks apologetic and you know what’s coming next. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “You have my full respect for your work and what you’ve done today, but…”

He digs into his pocket, revealing a ring of silver cuffs that have your gut twisting with fear. “Under the law, I can’t–“

He is interrupted by a sudden flash of a camera. Dozens of news cameras and microphones begin to surround you, pushing through to get to the pros. A newswoman dressed in her finest dress waves from behind two police officers, a microphone in her hand.

“Endeavor!” she shouts. “Eraserhead! Over here!” She shoves through the cops along with her own cameraman. Your heart leaps at the idea of being on TV, your face on every screen across Japan and possibly even further than that.

Once the woman is through, she practically shoves the microphone into Aizawa’s face while the camera on the cameraman’s shoulder targets him with the aftermath of Aqua Master’s attack in the background. “Can you tell us anything about the villain you stopped today?” the newswoman asks feverishly. "Who was he? How did you stop him?”

Despite his soaked and tired state, Aizawa doesn’t refuse to answer––or to give you your props. “It wasn’t either of us,” he replies. “While we put in work, it was really her.”

He nods at you standing like a deer frozen in headlights beside him. Your eyes trail over the cameras suddenly in your face and all of the eyes of the crowd on you making you feel like a hot spotlight is on you. You don’t know what to do. Your mind is completely blank.

“Hey, miss!” the newswoman says, her microphone now directed at you. “What is your name? Are you a new professional hero?”

You’re silent, your mouth dry and nervous sweat collecting under your pits. Your eyes shift to the chief, wondering if he’ll slap the cuffs on you if you say anything at all. But to your shock, the chief has slipped the cuffs back into his pocket. All he does is give you a nod. One nod that says everything to you.

You smile, your body flooded with joy, relief, and pride. So you turn to the newswoman and the other microphones that have begun to sneak toward your face. You lean down, speaking into the one nearest to your mouth.

“My name is Y/N L/N,” you proudly say. “I’m the vigilante known as Night Claw. Now I have to get back to work.”

With a smile at the cameras and at a very angry Endeavor, you walk away from the news crews, cameras, police, and crowd of civilians that cheer you on as you strut past in your soaked sneakers. As you do, a Mercedes Benz stops beside you and out hops Gang Orca looking haggard in his tie and dress slacks.

“Alright, I’m here,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry about my lateness. Traffic was horrible and…”

He stops, his eyes trailing over the chaotic sight in front of him. “Uh…am I late?” he asks, looking hesitant to know the answer.

You put a hand on the whale’s back, patting it. “Nothing you need to worry about, Mr. Orca, sir,” you reply with a smile. He gapes at you before you walk past him, heading back toward UA.

“Was that Y/N?” you hear Orca ask, baffled. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?”

You don't turn around, not even to check on Aizawa. Your first job is done. Now you have another to take care of.

**********

When you walk into Koa’s Purrr Palace that day, it is right after work ends and into the evening after you’ve run your errands.

The little cat cafe is clean and tidy when you walk in, causing the bell overhead to jingle at your arrival. The floors are polished, the tables are cleaned, and the entire room smells like lavender which can only mean that closing time is soon. There is also the lingering scent of coffee and sugar in the air.

An old woman–the same old woman who saved your life that fateful night–is just walking from behind the counter with a bottle of pine saw and a rag when she sees you.

“Oh, good evening!” she brightly greets you, a smile on her face that creates crinkles by her eyes.

You return the smile, standing awkwardly near the door. It’s so strange to be back here after so long. “Hi,” you timidly say. "I’m sorry it’s so late.”

Koa, the old woman and the owner of this cute little establishment waves a passive hand, scoffing. “Nonsense! It isn't too late to visit unless the closed sign goes up.”

She puts the pine saw and rag down on a nearby table where a bouquet of cut yellow roses sits. “So how can I help you, dear?” she asks, her kindness making you feel like a little girl.

You clutch your purse in front of you. “I’d like to adopt a cat, please,” you reply. “Not for me, but for someone else as a gift. They love cats.”

Your stomach flips for some reason as you say this, probably because you’re actually going through with this random ass idea that you came up with right as you arrived at UA. You don’t know if Aizawa will even want another pet after what you put him through, but you have to at least try.

Koa puts a hand on her heart, practically swooning at your request. “Well, how sweet of you!” she coos. “Any particular breed they like?” She begins to walk you over to the front counter where a few cages of kittens and cats sit, most of them asleep.

“No, they’re pretty open to whatever,” you answer, knowing damn well you’re just spitting BS because you have no idea what kind of cat breed Aizawa likes. “Just a cat that is very friendly, affectionate, and isn’t too keen on the outside.”

“Well, I’m sure we can find you the perfect one that checks all of those boxes.” Koa motions to the cages presented in the front for the picking. “Let me just check the back to see if we have any cats left. We’ve had so many adoptions ever since Eraserhead visited here. Such a doll, he is, but quite stoic.”

Your heart leaps and your cheeks flush at the mention of Aizawa, especially the way Koa describes him. ‘He is definitely a doll,’ you think, smiling to yourself.

Koa leaves you to your own devices as she goes into the back, humming as she does. Your eyes begin to roam over the many felines in their cage condos, most of them asleep. You feel an overload of cuteness from the different cat breeds you see snuggled up in their cat beds or with each other: tabbies; Persians; ragdolls; calicos…

Your eyes stop when you land on one calico in particular.

It is small, still a kitten, and the only one not sleeping. Instead, it is playing with a little ball that hangs from a string in its cage, its tiny paws flashing with claws that it knows how to use.

You are not just enchanted by its cuteness but its pattern. It is an unusual but beautiful swirl of browns, whites, and tans that almost appears a shade of pink. Its nose is tiny and pink, its eyes two big jades that seem so full of innocence.

What stands out to you about this kitten, other than its pattern and cuteness, is the tiny scar that lies under its left eye. It is small and white as if something knicked its fur at some point. Reminds you of someone you know well.

You move closer to the cage, careful not to startle the tiny thing. “Sps-sps,” you whisper. The kitten’s head whips towards you, its ears perked up.

“Hello,” you coo. “What’s your name?”

The kitten softly mews at you, answering you back. You push your finger through one of the cage holes, allowing the kitten to sniff you. Deciding it likes you, it presses its head against your finger and begins to purr.

“Oh, so you met our new addition!” Koa smiles at you, returning to her post. “We brought her in about a week ago. She’s still a kitten, but was probably the runt of her siblings due to her small size and pattern so her mother possibly abandoned her. When one of my employees found her, she was lying under some bushes near her apartment complex, eating some food someone left her.”

Your heart breaks at the poor little kitten's story as she continues to run her nose against your finger. “She’s extremely friendly and playful,” Koa giggles. “She's awfully tiny though. I was afraid to pick her up when I first saw her. It’s clear she’s been through some rough patches however long she was alone, but she’s still so kind. Such a sweetheart.” She presses her hand against the cage, earning the kitten’s affection and purrs.

Your heart breaks even more for the poor animal. She’s so touch-starved and in need of love from a good owner. You’ve never been more certain that Aizawa and Eri would be great owners for her.

“You said she could’ve possibly been abandoned for her pattern?” you ask Koa, earning a solemn nod. “How is that even possible? She looks like one of those Neapolitan ice cream swirls.”

And then, like a lightbulb flickering on in your brain, a name comes to you: “Nea,” you coo. “Little Nea.”

As if liking that choice, the kitten slowly blinks at you, a tiny mew leaving her mouth. You turn to Koa, already taking your credit card out of your purse. “I’ll take her.”

That late night, after returning home with little Nea and leaving her to lay in your bed, you enter your clean, neat bedroom and bend down to look under your bed.

There, a chest sits, untouched for weeks now. You pull it out and open it, revealing your Night Claw outfit, still sleek and clean. You’re so glad you decided to place it in the chest instead of keeping it in the duffle bag you’ve often stored it in. Thank God you’re thinking differently now.

You pull your mask out of the chest, smiling fondly at it. “Hi again, baby,” you whisper. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you. Let’s make up right here, right now.”

Without another word, you place your mask on your face and suit up. Your suit, still fierce and sexy, still fits like a glove no matter how much time has gone by.

And as you stand in the mirror with the window wide open for your exit, feeling like a brand new woman, you know that you’ve been forgiven.

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #shouta aizawa x black!reader #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader

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galactic-magick · 2 years

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Mental Health Needs: Julian Bashir x Reader

Summary: Julian gives you assurance as you adjust to anxiety and depression medication.

Words: 600+

Author’s Notes: This is a very self indulgent fic haha. I recently started meds irl and the first week I felt like absolute shit so this is based on that. Thankfully I’m feeling much better now though and my panic attacks have almost completely stopped :)

There’s certainly benefits to the chief medical officer being your boyfriend.

You can ask him any question, and he’s always happy to answer. You’ve asked him many times if he finds the questions annoying, but he always assures you he enjoys explaining biological processes to you, and helping you in any way he can. He loves his work, and he loves you, so the two pair quite nicely.

But for some reason, you’re still hesitant to ask him about your latest problem.

The trouble is, you’ve been struggling with anxiety and depression your entire life, and you finally agreed to try medication for it. You’ve resisted it for years, telling yourself “you don’t need it” and trying to cope with the symptoms on your own. But Julian finally convinced you to give it a try, after witnessing multiple of your panic attacks and depressive episodes. He couldn’t bear to see you suffer so badly anymore, and honestly you didn’t want to feel like that anymore either.

Yet the problem is far from solved. The side effects of the medication have been making you feel terrible. You feel super sick all the time, and all you want to do is sleep. You don’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him it’s not working, but you can’t keep going like this.

You enter the Infirmary, relieved to see that no one else besides Julian is in there currently. He’s logging some things into the computer when he sees you.

“Oh hello darling, come to visit me at work?” he grins at you.

“Actually I’m here for medical reasons,”

His smile fades and his eyes widen, rushing over to you with a tricorder, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh, “I’ve just been feeling so awful since I’ve been on these meds. I’m tired all the time no matter how much I sleep and take naps and I just feel like a zombie. I’m also nauseous and have no appetite at all, literally nothing the replicator can make appeals to me-”

He pulls you into a tight hug, cutting you off as your face squishes into him, “Oh, honey,”

“Well what do I do?” you mumble.

He brings you over to one of the beds and sits down on the edge with you. “Well first of all, unfortunately, those side effects are very normal. It takes at least a week or two for your body to adjust to the drug and take full therapeutic effect,”

“I guess so, but are the positives in the long run really going to outweigh how I feel right now?”

“For many people yes, they usually do. But if for whatever reason these side effects are still not going away after a while, I can prescribe you a different medication and we can keep trying different ones until we find one that works for you. A lot of people need to go through trial and error to find the right one,”

“Really?”

“Yes, darling. It’s really no trouble. Mental health is just as important as physical health, we’ve known that for centuries now. We’ll do everything we can until you feel better,”

You smile, “Thank you, Julian. But what about all my duties to next couple weeks? I’ve felt so sick I’ve barely gotten my job done-”

“I’ve already told Commander Sisko that you should be relieved from duty if you feel it necessary,”

“But-”

“No buts. Doctor’s orders,” he kisses your forehead. “Now, how about you go back to your quarters and rest. I have a couple more appointments today but after that I’ll come join you,”

“Okay,” you nod, wrapping your arms around him one more time.

“One benefit to you being more sleepy is you’ll be more cuddly,” he smirks.

“Julian!” you nudge him teasingly. “If you wanted more cuddles you didn’t have to give me drugs that are basically sedating me, you could’ve just asked,”

“You’re hilarious,” he laughs. “Now shoo, I’ll see you soon.”

Requests Status: I am currently not taking requests right now because finals are coming up for me, I’m just writing a couple short fics while I’m on Thanksgiving break. Once my semester is done and I’m on winter break I’ll probably start taking Star Trek requests though! Stay tuned :)

#julian bashir x reader #deep space nine x reader #julian bashir #deep space nine #ds9 #ds9 x reader #star trek x reader #star trek

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amyelevenn · 2 years

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I Hate to Interrupt This Alternate Universe I've Wandered Into

c!Technoblade x gn!reader

add yourself to the taglist here!

series masterlist here!

main masterlist here!

Chapter 2 of my series Glimmer in the Eye of the Curious

PAIRING; c!Technoblade x gn!reader

SUMMARY; You and Technoblade have a bit of an...unwanted... reunion, but it's better than being dead

....well, is it?

WARNINGS/TAGS; nothing really - a bit of panic

A/N; so I realised I want this fic to feel like the song snowfall by Øneheart (you may know from tiktok) - sad, angsty undertones but still have happier, nostalgic vibes to it?? I don’t really know but I hope someone understands the vibe I’m tryna give

also - i have some questions;

- do you guys like this chapter length? would you rather longer/shorter?

- do we want this to be angsty? cause if you have read any of my other stuff you know i am a sucker for angst, but i want it to appeal to you guys!!

1.8k words

A tired yawn emitted quietly from your lips, your eyes struggling to open. The first thing you felt was a weary, refreshing euphoria – the type you would feel after waking up from a much-needed midday nap, or after sleeping for 13 straight hours. However short-lived the warmth is, you bask in the intoxication as it slips through your fingers and moulds into an aching agony.

You should be dead.

With an alarming amount of effort, you open your eyes, groaning quietly as your whole body floods with aches and pains. You notice distantly that you are still caked in blood and mud, and still slightly damp from the snow. It takes a second to soak in your surroundings, and the fact that you don’t recognise one thing nearby – coming rather quickly to the conclusion that this isn’t somewhere you had been before, and that needed to change.

Maybe it was all a horrible nightmare, and you were really dead, and this was your version of limbo. Honestly, a win for everyone.

A voice clears its throat from across the room.

So, not limbo – not just yet.

Ignoring the soreness of your neck and the protest of almost every limb in your body, you snap your head to see a fairly large man leaning casually against his sink, sipping something out of a mug as if this was just a normal Monday – or whatever day it was now – for him.

And knowing Technoblade, this very well might be.

“How ya feelin’?” he asks, not moving from his place. “You weren’t out very long – woke up much earlier than I expected, actually.”

You hesitate, expression falling. No. No, no no no no no. Not here. Not now.

As subtly as you can manage you look for an escape route, a way you can get out fast and avoid trouble.

“There’s no point. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

You weren’t stupid. With the condition you were in, there simply wasn’t a way of leaving without injuring yourself even further.

You go to reply to his first remark, but all the rasps out from your throat is a rough croak, sending a throb of pain through your head. Closing your eyes to help the hurt subside, you don’t even notice Techno sitting by your side, gently pulling your ankle onto his lap.

A cup of water was in your hand before you could fully register what was going on, but you had drank it all without so much as a second thought.

“Been better,” you finally manage, watching as he unravels a slightly blood-stained bandage from around your foot. “You’ve seen firsthand how bad of positions I can get myself in.”

“Your ankle is the worst you’ve done, everythin’ else will heal just fine,” Techno murmurs. You noted how calm and collected he was. Like how he always was.

You knew he knew how you got in situations you were unfamiliar with – you were skittish, panicked, like a deer in headlights. So he had to tread carefully, not wanting to scare you off (Gods knew he was good at that).

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you chuckle, trying to ignore the burning in your chest. “Thank you for helping me, even after… uh- everything.”

You don’t need to see him stiffen, you could literally sense how he unconsciously sits straighter, holding your ankle a little bit tighter than before. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”

“I don’t – at least not now,” you whisper, swallowing the lump building in your throat.

“Alright,” he softly agrees, but is still tensed up as if you would attack at any moment – and you both know you have every right to.

But that wasn’t you – you weren’t a fighter like he was, and you both knew it.

Slowly, he unwraps the bandage on your ankle, letting you assess the damage for yourself. He seems almost zoned out as you look at the brilliant purples and greens that taint your skin, an ugly bruise dark and daunting.

“And my shoulder?”

“Just dislocated. Nothin’ a healin’ potion can’t fix.” The monotony in his voice is one you are all too familiar with.

You hum in agreeance, fingers on autopilot as they trace where a scar should be on your thigh from that skeleton’s arrow. There’s nothing there – no marks, no dents, no lumps – no trace of any injury in the first place apart from the bloodied tear in your pants.

“You always had the best stuff, didn’t you?” you snicker a little, letting yourself relax slightly.

If he wanted you dead, you would be by now – he wouldn’t have gone through all of this trouble to keep you alive if that was the opposite of what he wished. He wouldn’t have wasted so many precious resources to keep your heart beating if it wasn’t in his best interest.

Ignoring the dull ache moving caused, you ran your hands through your knotted and muddy hair, realising how dirty you must look.

The hybrid had to have read your mind, pointing lazily to a closed door. “Bathroom’s in there, use whatever you need. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

Limping over, you barely make it to the door before collapsing onto the side of the bathtub, the overwhelming pain shooting up your calf making your head spin in many different directions. Black dots violently painted your sight, bile slowly creeping up your throat. You push it away, not wanting to cause a scene.

Technoblade walks in, holding a pair of clean pants and a shirt. “Will you be alright to do it by yourself?” he asks, clearly wary of your ankle.

You give a curt nod, taking a deep breath through your nose.

He huffs, “Yell if you need anythin’, yeah?”

Closing the door behind him, you are left to peel the bloodied and snow-soaked clothes off your sore body, ditching them to lie forgotten on the floor. Your whole body was littered with scars, marks and bruises – some new, red and healing, others older, faded but still visible.

You couldn’t help but stare as you always did prompted with a mirror at the scar running from between your shoulder blades all the way down to the small of your back. It was a scar that never fully healed, physically and emotionally. The memory of how you got it made you want to vomit, especially since you were in his presence again.

The tub filled quicker than you had anticipated, and you wasted no time dipping into the warmth the water in the bath provided.

Almost instantly the water became a murky, rusty colour, yet it felt amazing as you scrubbed off the built-up grime off your arms and legs. You could feel the soreness in your muscles soften as it melted away with the heat. After a while of gently running your fingers through your hair, the tangles and dirt clumps are out, and the water ran cold.

Reluctantly stepping out, you dried yourself off with the first towel you could grab, shivering at the new lack of warmth. You weren’t overly excited at the prompt of wearing his clothes, but as of right now you didn’t have much of a choice.

Because of his sheer size, Technoblade’s clothes were way oversized on you, but you compromised with what you had. The pants barely stayed on your hips and were too long at the foot so you had to roll them up. The shirt came down past your thighs, sleeves much longer than your arms were.

Pure exhaustion clouded your vision, having to blink away the stars dancing across your eye line. Dizzy, you took multiple deep breaths to attempt to steady yourself, gripping the doorknob as if it was the source of all your problems.

You distracted yourself by thinking – thinking about leaving, going home, fixing yourself up there and never leaving again. Thinking about the closure you could finally get, the explanation you had dreamt of for many sleepless nights-

No.

You were going to go home, and never see this man again, just like you had planned in the first place.

Opening the bathroom door, you hardly manage to fight the wave of nausea that washes over you, and by some miracle, you had made it back to the couch you were on before.

Technoblade sat idly at his desk, trying his best to calm the voices – the same voices who screamed for blood, blood, blood at the slightest mention of your name. He made his hands work so he wouldn’t have to think, praying the tedium and repetition of it would quieten them down, at least for a moment so he could attempt to concentrate.

Your mask lay partially fixed between his fingers, the least he could do to try and rekindle what once was.

He sensed your presence immediately, turning to make sure you were okay. He watched your eyes flicker from his to your mask back to his, but ask no question.

Technoblade was the one to break the silence. “When was the last time you ate-?”

You immediately cut in, “I’m not staying.”

He ignores you. “Now would be a good time for food, and maybe another potion.”

You watch him stand and make his way to a cupboard, pull out a full glass bottle and make a piece of buttered toast.

He first hands you the brew of rich pinks and reds, waiting patiently as you waft the potion to ensure there is no foul play. It tastes of melons and light, yet recovery and safety. A soft sigh involuntarily escapes you as you relax into the warmth spreading through every part of you.

The toast finds its way into your hands and down your throat before you can really process anything, still too caught up in the soft exhilaration rush to think about things too hard.

“It’s late,” Techno finally murmurs, “and a snowstorm is on the way. Look, I’m not gonna make you stay, but I would strongly advise sleepin’ the night off and dealing with everythin’ when you wake up.”

There’s only one thing playing on repeat in your mind.

Two, if you count how pretty he looks in this lighting.

“Why’d you do it?” You whisper it with so much heartache, Technoblade can almost, almost feel it radiating off of you. “Why did you…why…”

“Go to sleep.” It’s quiet, barely there, but it does the job.

The piglin watches as you drift into a restless slumber, silently arguing with the voices about something he had no control over.

Sleep and you had a very delicate, fickle relationship – and yet tonight she decided to hold you dear and close, allowing you a long, overdue nights rest that was very much needed. If she was feeling up to it, she may even have given you a dream.

Or possibly show that dreaded nightmare you face every time you close your eyes.

Blood for the Blood God.

TAGLIST;

@raes-gay @howtobeamoth

#technoblade my beloved #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader #dsmp #technoblade x reader #dream smp #technoblade #angst #ameswrites #fanfiction #glimmer in the eye of the curious #chapter two

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rodolfoparras · 3 months

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I wrote a whole ass response of several paragraphs last night but then customer walked it and I accidentally exited the app and it was all gone 😔 also someone was here playing bingo until 22:59 and we close at 23 so I had to stay 20 extra minutes to finish everything.

Good news though, I won't have to work entire day on Sunday! I was complaining to my coworker about it and I guess she talked with my boss? So I only have to work one shift after all and she's angel for helping me. And thankfully I don't have to stand while working, in fact we do have to sit but it's extremely uncomfortable position anyways plus the chair is awful?? There are two monitors as well and by the end of the shift my body likes to remind me of how bad my chronic pain can get 😭

As for Cassidy, I might get heat for this but I just don't see the appeal. He's so... whatever? There are some cowboys I like (Boothill from Honkai star rail my beloved 🫶🏻) but I never got the Cassidy appeal. Besides, Reaper is right there?? And absolutely gorgeous?? (In other news fork found in kitchen I like edgy, brooding traumatized men) Although Hanzo is delectable as well.

And the fact that you immediately assumed Butcher is my type is so funny because my ex best friend (long story) got me to watch The Boys by showing me Butcher because he knew I'd adore him!

And I didn't check up on you in a few days, so how are you? I hope you're doing well and everything is ok <3

-🔮

They were there until 22:59? Jesus Christ I know they’re trying to get away from the 9-5😭

Aaaah sugar bee those are such good news!! And I’m glad someone stepped in to help you it’s genuinely not fair to assign all the workload to you especially when they know you can’t complain much since you’re the newest employee:(

Oh honey bee I am so sorry 😭 if there’s something jobs will do is they’ll take the most comfortable thing to exist like sitting and make it uncomfortable 😭 do you have anything to relieve the pain after such shifts?:( I don’t have chronic pain but I can get horrible back pain from long shifts and just that fraction of pain is horrible I can’t even sit up straight can’t even imagine what it’s like having chronic pain!!

Sugar bee I think it’s just that we have different types! For me boothill is a pretty boy and that’s as far as it goes while I’d have Cassidy carry my children but I can agree with you on reaper!!! He is so yummy!!!

Also I’m good sugar bee!! I’ve just had a very busy past couple of days and my body is tired yesterday I spent all day preparing for Bajram/ Eid while also juggling work didn’t go to bed until 1am and then woke up 4.30 for work 😭 when I finally got home from work I was so dead I napped until like 15.00😭 so i apologize if I sound a wee bit less energetic!! Genuinely just being a super sleepy boy :(

#alec answers #🔮 anon

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ezrisdax-archive · 1 year

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Kira + Jadzia, University au and they’re like lab partners or something!

send me a ship + an au and I'll write a short drabble

(I couldn't decide if Jadzia called Kira 'major' as a joke because she struggles to pick a major or because she was in the military so you can decide)

“Sill haven’t picked a major, Major?” Jadzia’s voice teased from above her.

Kira glanced away from her laptop to look up at Jadzia. It should have been an unflattering angle but it annoyingly wasn’t.

“I still have time.” Kira replied, gesturing to the chair beside her for Jadzia to take a seat. “Besides, none of this appeals to me.” She looked over at Jadzia. “We can’t all pick four things to major in.”

“I’m great at multitasking.” Jadzia said but Kira could tell she was tired.

If she brought it up Jadzia would just brush it off with her usual sarcastic optimism however.

It something she appreciated about her dormmate but also something that worried her.

“I hear Curzon tried to flunk you on a pop quiz again.” Kira said instead, her eyes turning to focus back on her computer.

The rant came seconds later.

“…I just don’t understand how Benjamin can be his T.A.” Jadzia finished. Kira hummed to show she was still listening but was frowning at her thesis line.

Somehow she didn’t think Professor Winn would appreciate any of her takes on their shared religion however.

Jadzia sighed and then there was a weight on Kira’s shoulder where she suddenly rested her head.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

“You’re the most comfortable thing here.” Jadzia replied, voice muffled against Kira’s sweater.

“That can’t be true.” Kira said with a derisive scoff.

“It is to me.”

She had nothing to say to that.

“Come on.” She nudged Jadzia a little to get off her shoulder. “Let’s go back to our dorm. You can take a nap there.”

“Will you still be my pillow?”

Kira rolled her eyes. “If you want.”

By Jadzia’s tiny smirk she had a sinking feeling this was going to be a long standing thing.

#kiradax #kira nerys #jadzia dax #kiradax fic #beej writes #trek femslash

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kinetic-elaboration · 10 months

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December 12: Work Shit

Today was such a shitty day. And for the most dumb-fuck reasons too. There was work drama in the morning so incredibly inane I am embarrassed to post about it in a pubic space but the tl;dr of it is that I had no opinions about the thing, but was still the brunt of others’ (an other’s really) annoyance about it. We kept saying ‘it’s not personal’ as we spoke harshly to each but it felt SO personal, and I just couldn’t get over it for pretty much the rest of the day. I am quite sure it wounded me more and affected me for longer than anyone else. I want to be like ‘please don’t do this to me, I am a sensitive flower, I am easily emotionally decimated’ but also like ‘I am not bothered at all (lying), I am strong and fine, I am above this, I am not engaging because there is nothing to engage with.’

Again, there was nothing to engage with. But it just made me feel so shitty. I still feel kind of sad even now, to be honest. I was so bummed out and tired that I took a nap as soon as I got home (after a bus ride sitting in front of someone who was yelling into their phone and kept saying ‘no one can hear me! It’s the bus!’—um? We can all hear you because it’s the bus?). There was probably nothing else for me to do but of course now I am up late because it takes a while to wake up again from a nap, then I am all riled up and easily distracted. So I will go to sleep at a stupid hour again, and also have accomplished nothing with my paltry post-work hours.

Fuck I’m so depressed. This is such a depressing train of thought.

Anyway, yesterday I mentioned at work that I had never seen a single episode of Doctor Who (this is the truth: I think I saw a partial episode on TV, but not even the whole thing) and this shocked my co-worker considerably. She said it was incredibly surprising of me or something of that nature. And I do not know how to take this. I mean, probably what she means is ‘you are known as someone who likes science fiction and is rather nerdy’ and these are true things and also positive reputations to have. But I have literally never given the slightest fuck about Doctor Who lmao. I can’t tell you why, but it obviously doesn’t feel weird to me that I don’t because I never have! Obviously I’ve been in a lot of spaces that are sort of Who-adjacent (fandom, tumblr, nerd-dom, crossover appeal with other stuff I like) but it’s never been tempting or intriguing at all. It’s not on my list.

What I said was just like… a non-answer that sounded like an answer based on my tone of voice. Like, ‘Hmmm, well I’ve seen a partial episode on TV and I’ve seen Torchwood.’ This is all true but does not at all address the surprise or the reasons of my not being interested. I was surprised by her surprise, I don’t have good reasons, and also all I could say would probably read as insulting to Who fans, one of whom was in the room.

I think part of it is, honestly, that my mom isn’t into Doctor Who, and so I did not have anyone getting me into it at a formative time. Not that people can’t get into Who independently and not that I haven’t gotten into things independently but I just… I really think that in this particular instance, if she had been into it, I would have been. My mom being into Torchwood is the reason I watched it (well… 2-ish seasons). She thinks Who is a kids’ show and while it’s probably more a family show, that opinion really influenced my non-desire to watch it.

Another part is that I’m sort of a sci-fi poser in a way. I hate to admit it but it’s true. I love that people think of me as a sci fi fan and I think of myself that way too but I am NOT well read. I’m more like an ST:TOS fan with aspirations to sci fi fandom. This isn’t to say I want to pick up Who (or Dune, the other piece of science fiction I was strangely assumed to be familiar with), but I do want to be more well-read in some classic sci fi literature, as well as be more aware of like modern sci fi stuff. Especially books. There are very few sci fi TV series that interest me. A couple but not a ton.

I also have a weird definition of science fiction which is, it’s science fiction if it FEELS like science fiction to me, personally, the arbiter of all things. Some media are in the sense that they can’t be anything else, I guess, but they don’t feel like science fiction to me and so I’m not interested, which is a weird and irrational and unreasonable thing for me to say, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m sad so there it is.

#the year 2023 #2023: rl #better for me if everyone thinks i'm a closed book.... i'm really not but maybe i should be?

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shuppy00 · 2 years

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some of my mha ocs that I made in picrew :D

Yume Meikai

She’s so tireddd come onnn let her nap zz zzzzzzzzz

Chill asf despite having a world-ending scale quirk

Quirk: lucid dream

-she can use any ability she would be able to in a lucid dream

-yes, this is extremely overpowered

-she’s my bbg tho so it’s ok

-drawbacks:

1. use of her quirk makes her tired very quickly (she is constantly sleepy because of this)

2. overuse of her quirk can make her lose her sense of reality

Hero Name: (i haven’t chosen one yet lol, but some possible names for her are Daydream, Sleepwalker, or just Lucid)

hero student version:

why she so eepy

villain version:

I can guarantee you there are no thoughts behind those eyes, villain Yume is very cat-like in personality. also she has not had a proper haircut in months someone please help her

Aika Koizumi

the silly ❤️❤️

very kind despite her quirks manipulative nature

fun loving high energy girl, but very socially aware

would be the designated drink holder at parties

Quirk: charm

-she’s basically all those bakugo fangirl ocs that have a quirk that can make everyone fall in love with them

-by holding a coversation with someone for even a short amount of time, she can instill a state of docility in them, slowing their mental process and making them very suggestible

-while someone is under her influence, she can make them do simple tasks. with practice, she could possibly make them do more complex things

-the effectiveness of her quirk can increase if she can make the person on the receiving end find her appealing/like her

-sorta similar to shinsou’s quirk oops

-drawbacks:

1. her influence is easy to resist and break out of

2. I haven’t developed her quirk enough for another drawback 💔

Hero Name: (Charmer? Idk I don’t have that many ideas for her, pls suggest some 😭)

hero student version:

don’t you love her? wouldn’t you let her hypnotize you? look at that halo, such a sweet innocent girl :3

villain version:

she is of course very fashionable, even as a villain

Hoshiko Mochizuki

literally my favorite babygirl <3

she’s like Bakugo if he knew how to stfu and moderate his tone (no bakugo hate tho, I love that little guy like a feral cat)

she’s the quiet kid the memes warned you about

Quirk: uhhhh uhhhhhmmm star.. thing

-I’m gonna be real I haven’t done a lot of thinking about her to explain her quirk

-I know a lot about it, but I don’t really know how to put it into words

-all I know is that it’s op asf

Hero Name: either Comet or Cosmo but I’m leaning towards Cosmo

hero student version:

the hair doesn’t really look like her but I tried my best

villain version:

she’s so. SHES SO HOT-

Haruki Igarashi

nervous wreck 24/7

social anxiety 100

cries a lot over little things

is so nervous about her quirk hurting someone that she inadvertently causes it to hurt someone

Quirk: Weather Manipulation

-she can create weather events like storms and tornadoes and manipulate them

-she only has control over the ones she creates

-she can use them to do a whole assortment of things

-drawbacks:

1. her quirk is affected by her emotions, and that is a problem since she is emotionally unstable at all times. she can only have total control when she clears her mind and is completely calm

2. It’s very difficult to use her quirk while she’s inside without causing a lottt of property damage

hero student version:

she looks so soft and huggable ❤️❤️ my sweet child

villain version:

she both has and would kill a man over a poptart. she has no rules, no boundaries, she doesn’t flinch at torcher, human trafficking, or genocide, she’s not loyal to a flag or country or any set of ideals-

#mha #bnha #oc #mha oc #bnha oc #ignore how yume’s bg is different in one of them #i am cringe but i am free

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faarkas · 2 years

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#every day i wake up with a feverish desire to play stardew #hil.txt #i’m going to start a new farm i think. and i’m gonna set it up for co-op from the start to be smart #i want to play with the four corners one i watched a video ranking all the farms and i was like Ooooooo that’s hot…#but also….a nap is so appealing…..i’m so tired.#me earlier asking if i can come with and bring the dog when he goes to get food: *mumble mumble* *alien language* *mumble* *falls asleep*#dad (half deaf): what are u saying 😭

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onlyswan · 2 years

Text

summary: in which you entertain yourself with jungkook’s hair and make a dream come true.

> fluff, suggestive ? / wc: 2.7k

> warnings: making out, he gets blue balls sorry jk, mention of blood

note: this is just short and self indulgent i am finally writing about my undying love for my triangle gimbap bv4 koo i am in the brink of tears as i am typing this bc i just love him very much OKAY . also you’re in the second day of your period here so you can read my previous drabble if you want to :]

+ one last drabble before comeback bc i will be too busy screaming and crying over festa + comeback content PEACE OUT ✌🏼

—

today is jungkook’s day off, and as much as you would love to go out on a date with him outside where the sun is shining not too bright and the wind is whistling softly as it gracefully dances as if it could be seen by the naked eye, the weight of your headache has kept you hostage on your pillow.

you rub the sleep off your eyes, refocusing on the view outside the bedroom window. your nap took longer than you intended. it’s already the afternoon — the sky is splashed with light hues of orange and pink, and you grow sadder about not being able to spend the day with your boyfriend like you usually do when he gets some time away from work. your headache isn’t as bad as it was this morning (trust me, it was bad), but it’s still there.

you reach for your phone beside you, familiar fingers tapping at the screen to call him.

“hello, baby. how do you feel? do you need anything?” this isn’t the first time you’re hearing his voice today, but the sound still makes you feel gush.

“where are you?” yours comes out scratched with your throat being dry, so you sit up and hunch over the nightstand, opening your water bottle and taking the straw between your lips.

“in the living room.” he chuckles softly. “where else would i be?”

“i don’t know. i thought you went out with your friends or something. didn’t one of them opened up a new restaurant?” you mumble, feeling bad about keeping him inside the house. “i wouldn’t have gotten mad if that’s what you’re worried about. i just sleep when i’m on the second day of my period anyway.”

he scoffs. “i didn’t want to go out anyway. i’ve been working on a song since this morning. i made some good progress.” he planned to spend this day off working since he knows you wouldn’t feel up to going out on the second day of your period, and even if you do wanted to go out, he would’ve rather let you rest. however, instead of going to the company, he set up his equipment in the living room. this way, he wouldn’t bother your sleep and still be available incase you needed him.

you stay quiet for a few seconds, gathering all the energy in your body to force yourself to function. “may i hear?”

“when it’s finished, baby. i’m almost there.” he answers sweetly, heart softening at the sound of your tired and gentle voice from his phone’s tiny speaker.

“will you come in the room then, please?”

“why? do you miss me?” he teases.

you can hear him smile in his voice. you are longing to see it in person.

“just a little bit.” you reply jokingly.

you hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “that’s enough for me. on my way.”

and the door bursts open, your boyfriend entering the bedroom with his phone pressed against his ear. his doe eyes meet your drowsy ones, and he immediately ends the call to stride towards your figure he yearns to hold in his arms.

you make grabby hands, grasping at the waist of his shirt to pull his body as close as possible. he kisses the top of your head, lips making a smacking sound which makes you smile weakly against his chest.

he sits beside you, brushing away the hair blocking his vision and tucking them behind his ears. the small actions ignite the adoration in your heart, and suddenly, playing with your boyfriend’s hair sounds like the most appealing thing in the universe and you wouldn’t mind spending this lifetime and the next doing exactly that.

and so, you gaze at him with feigned innocence. “will you grab my box of hair ties for me?” referring to the transparent box sitting on top of the vanity.

jungkook is a simple man. you ask for something, and he gives it to you. “don’t tie your hair. doesn’t your head hurt still?” he scolds you while handing you the box, and your eyes close shut as giggles rack your body.

“then why give it to me?”

he crawls on his side of the bed, his head laying on the soft pillow. “hmm, i don’t know. thought maybe you wanted to admire your collection of hair ties.” he unlocks the box, pulling at the handle of the lid to reveal the collapsible levels forming a mini staircase. he makes a show out of it, gasping dramatically as he pulls a surprised face. his lips form an ‘O’ to perfectly match his wide doe eyes. you watch him in pure amusement, shaking your head with a chuckle.

inside are rubber hands and hair ties, organized by size and color. to be honest, you rarely even use them. you just think of them as essentials. you’ve always thought that there will come a day when you’d need them.

perhaps, today is the day.

you make space on the nightstand for the box, setting it aside temporarily. “so what are you gonna do?”

you ignore his question, tugging at his pillow as you speak. “lay between my legs.”

his mouth falls agape once again. sure, you’re pretty much straightforward most of the time but never like this. “babe, shouldn’t we wait for a few more days for th-”

your hand moves on its own, flicking his forehead to interrupt him from further speaking out his thoughts. “get your mind out of the gutter. i just wanted to do your hair!”

“oh.” he releases the air he didn’t realize he’s been holding in, eyes darting to the side as he assesses the awkward situation he just created for himself.

the man decides to pretend like the past thirty seconds did not happen. “they’re showing kimi no na wa on the cable channel. i should practice my japanese.”

you watch him put his pillow over your spread-out thighs before making himself comfortable between your legs, leaning back and sliding down just enough for his hair to be perfectly within your reach.

as he flips through the channels on the television, you press a kiss on his temple. he can feel your smile against his skin, and it makes his cheeks blush in sheepishness. “you are so funny without even trying sometimes.”

he shifts around a little, leaning his weight on you. “please make my hair look pretty.”

that isn’t exactly your intention and you just want to play around, but- “i’ll try my best, baby boy.”

one of his favorite films of all the time plays on the television. given that he has spent almost half of his life sitting on a chair for hours while being dolled up by stylists, he finds himself relaxed more than ever since it’s you touching his hair. he basks in your light and delicate touches, humming in appreciation. his tattooed hand finds a home on your knee, his thumb tracing shapes on your skin.

despite you being well-aware of his insane level of pain tolerance and muscle endurance, jungkook loves how you remain gentle with him. he knows it isn’t simply because you’re wary of hurting of him, but because your nurturing hands treasure him.

though, he admits he deserves the swat he gets on the arm when he starts swaying back and forth to the rhythm of a commercial song.

you gather a thick portion of his hair on the top of his head, sweeping up his long bangs to include them. you choose a black hair tie, because a rubber band would be too difficult to remove and it usually takes hair strands along with it. every piece of jungkook is precious to you.

“tada! the first look is done.” you announce enthusiastically, marvelling at your own work.

he opens the front camera of your phone to look at what you did to his hair, curling up into a fit of delighted laughter as if he is being tickled. you know what he looks like when he is laughing the hardest — eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open as he laughs so hard it feels like he can’t control his body anymore. he even kicks out his feet sometimes, or repeatedly slaps whatever’s near. usually, it’s the table or his thighs.

you find the hairdo more adorable than funny, but you’re glad that you made him happy over such a small and silly thing.

he coughs, choking on his spit from laughing too much. he slaps his chest in panic and you offer him your water bottle, which he accepts. with a grimace, you watch him sip until the bottle becomes half empty. once he calms down, he smiles at you and you start explaining your work.

“i know they usually call this apple hair, but here you can see that i took a thicker portion so it’s more of a ‘sprout’ look.” you stroke the hair forming the leaves to emphasize your point, and you realize that it also resembles the water bursting out of a whale. but the term sprout is more adorable and straightforward, so you choose not to mention it anymore.

he nods in understanding as you speak, turning his head to the left and to the right to check out how it looks from different angles. “ah, i can see how this also symbolizes my drive to achieve personal growth with everything that i do in life. there is so much more left for me to learn and experience, therefore, i am still a sprout.”

he probably wrote lyrics while reflecting on himself today, you think. not enough people realizes how much time jungkook spends thinking about himself and life in general because they usually only see him being physically active, and well, because he’s a generally shy person who keeps to himself. that’s why he writes them into songs. or he shares them with you on random occasions.

his words are intended for exaggerated humor, but a fond smile spreads on your lips as you listen to him speak such insightful words so casually. “hmm, exactly. exactly! that’s what i had in mind while i was doing your hair. i did a goob job in capturing your personality, yes?” you lean forward to insert yourself in the camera’s frame, resting your cheek against his.

“you look so cute, baby.” you admire him through your phone screen, eyes almost sparkling. he grins in response, showing off his perfectly aligned teeth before he captures the picture. you poke his other cheek with your index finger, and he smiles so that his dimples pop out as he clicks on the shutter again.

“i want to do pucca hairstyle next.” you tell him, sliding off the hair tie which makes his hair fall infront of his eyes. he blows a loud breath to remove them from his line of vision, which works for about two seconds until they flop down again.

with a giggle, you brush the hair back with your fingers. this time, you use a comb to perfectly part his hair in the middle.

while you’re trying to properly gather a portion from the upper right side of his head, he calls out your name out of the blue without looking away from the television screen. you hum in response. “what if i wake up alone in this bed tomorrow morning and realize that you were just a figment of my imagination?”

you pause for a second, heart aching inside your chest because of his question. “that won’t ever happen, silly. i am very much real. you just witnessed me bleeding yesterday. my blood was red and not purple or green.”

“babe, i said a figment of my imagination, not an alien!”

“well-” you stutter in embarrassment. “still!”

your hands slip away from his hair when he slides down, head resting on the pillow as he looks up at you with an amused smile. without thinking twice, you connect your lips with his. he holds your face in his hands to deepen the kiss, heart pumping so loud and fast he swears he can feel it in his ears.

you pull away with your chest heaving, a cheeky smile painted on your cherry swollen lips. “did that feel real enough?”

“holy shit. you just made one of my teenage dreams come true.” he curses, dazed eyes drinking you in as if you were a celestial being who came down on earth and found him.

you raise an eyebrow in surprise. “oh? your first spiderman kiss ever?” the new learned knowledge makes you want to bash your head against the wall for not doing this earlier into your relationship. how could you have been so clueless? how long has your boyfriend been waiting for this moment to come? you should’ve known.

“ever.” and then he grabs your face to kiss you again, this time with more fervor, tongue playful and sweet. you will never admit it, but you might be enjoying this more than he is. a quiet moan escapes you just before he pulls away (too sudden for your liking) with a sated smile, planting three more quick kisses on your lips. “got five spiderman kisses now.”

“you are insatiable.” you mumble against his lips, finally opening your eyes.

“you make me insatiable.” he remarks. and it takes everything in you not to indulge yourself and kiss him again until you run out of air.

you straighten back up, grasping at the shoulders of his shirt. “i’m not done with your hair yet. get up.” he groans in protest, mumbling about how much he loves you and how he lets you do everything you want as he goes back to his previous position. he ignores the uncomfortable pressure growing in his shorts and belly, reverting his attention back to the animated film.

you comb his hair again, untangling some knots that formed in the previous minutes you got preoccupied with . . . other things.

surprisingly, jungkook stays quiet and unmoving this time around as you fix up his hair with serious focus. you finish tying up his hair on the right side, and so you move on to the other, purposely leaving out his bangs and brushing them to the side for the pretty style he wanted. finally, you comb the hair at the back of his head and the front of his face to make it look neater.

“all done.” you inform him with a singsong voice, and he immediately opens up your front camera again.

“ooooh.” he sounds impressed, touching his own hair with interest. “you did make me look pretty, after all.”

“of course, i did!”

and then he does his signature pose. his lips form a pout so big his bunny teeth makes an appearance, and he throws up a peace sign beside his cheek. the tattoos on his forearm are in full display, and they completely contrast the endearing cuteness going on with his hair and his face. he takes multiple pictures, changing up the angle with each one.

you rest your chin on his shoulder as he goes through all the pictures he took this afternoon, either giggling at himself or at you in the background. you roll your eyes when he zooms at you watching him take selfies with a look on your face that evidently shows how in love you are with him, teasing you as if time went back two and a half years and you were still hiding your crush on him.

in the end, he forces you to take a selfie with him because apparently, the pucca one is his favorite hairdo and you’re his favorite person so he wants both to be his lockscreen. he sends the picture to himself eagerly.

“oh! i finally figured it out!” you exclaim excitedly, reaching over to swipe through the pictures. “you look like a maltese puppy! you know, when they get their hair tied up?”

he blinks in confusion, closing the gallery app to search up a picture of a maltese puppy with the same hairstyle. he finds one and saves it, swiping at your screen left and right as he compares himself.

“so am i a bunny or a maltese?”

you shrug. “both?”

he heaves out a dramatic sigh. “i don’t think that’s how it works though?”

—

taglist! @lolalee24 @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @yoonqki @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader + send an ask or dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts smut

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imthebadguyyy · 3 years

Note

maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33

I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙

The One Where They're There For Her

Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)

Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)

Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.

Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)

Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.

That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.

Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.

Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.

"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.

"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.

Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.

"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.

Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.

"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.

"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.

Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.

"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"

And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.

-------

A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !

Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69

#one direction x reader #one direction x sixth member #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction #one direction #harry styles x reader #liam payne x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #niall horan x reader #zayn malik x reader #imthebadguyyytags #harry styles #niall horan #liam payne #louis tomlinson #zayn malik

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

Note

Hi, I absolutely adore your writing and it’s quite inspiring and making my imagination go WEEWOO!

Could I request something for YJ With Dick? So like a headcanon or one shot (which ever you prefer queen) where the reader is quite reserved, snarky and can get angry real fast. They have feelings for Rob and they are especially snarky to him to hide their feelings, but they eventually start to open up more and during the events of episode 24 (you know, the one at haly’s circus), they open up to him and they confess? And he does the same?

Flower Language

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Blood and injuries and plant death.

Word Count: 3.8k words

A/N: This is kind of my take on the Hanahaki disease, kind of. This was so much fun to write honestly, I didn't realize I like all this floral stuff so much. It also reminded me of another 'True Love's Kiss' trope I wrote for Dick Grayson as well. Also I changed the episode this was based on because I’ve already done something based on the episode with Haly’s circus @hanbedumbaf I really really really hope you enjoy it! Sorry it was so late, I finished it a month back but it was in my queue.

Adrenaline was a common feeling to you. A little too familiar. The life of a superhero puts you in peril more times than you would like but it was the only life you had known. You knew the familiar feeling of sweat forming on your skin and your heart pounding so loudly that you could hear it in every step you took.

However, when you heard the pounding, it was because there was a supervillain, usually hairy, chasing after you and determined to get your head on a stake.

Although, feeling your heart jump to your throat was becoming more familiar whenever you were around a certain someone. Robin annoyed you to no end, whenever he was around you couldn't help your face from growing warm and your lips from tingling to form a permanent smile on your face.

Having a crush was irritating, you couldn't think or even function without thinking of him. It was frankly humiliating, you were always so gung-ho about being bold and to the point and yet whenever you were around Boy Wonder, you couldn't help but bend your personality to something you felt like would appeal to him more.

Sometimes, you couldn't even stand yourself.

And so, as a pathetic act of rebellion, and maybe as a clear-cut sign that you had no idea how to handle emotions or anything similar to it, every time your heart got just a little soft, your tongue got a whole lot sharper. Probably not the best way to win a boy’s heart. But you weren't here for a romance story.

It was also a true sign that you had no idea how to flirt, thinking that borderline insulting witty banter was the way to go. Or perhaps it was a way of controlling your emotions, since being bitter and snarky was the thing that came easiest to you.

You seriously needed better tactics.

It was also your oblivious mistake thinking that Robin only saw what you wanted him to see. He was raised to be a detective, of course he was more observant than that. Papa (or let's be real, Alfred) didn't raise no fool.

You made the mistake of thinking Robin saw you as strong and independent and bold, just as the rest of them did. But he saw much more than that.

Robin was distressed by the number of crying faces around him, the kids were inconsolable which was understandable because of just how many things went wrong in the past couple of hours. To be quite frank, Robin was a couple seconds away from having a fit himself.

"Shh, little one," He heard distantly and his neck practically snapped. You were crouching in front of the few who were crying, with a small nurturing smile. It was the first time he had seen you out of uniform, usually referring to you as Antheia, named after the goddess of flowers, but this wasn't she.

"I know you're scared, my flowers, but I promise, we will find your parents." You soothed, gently wiping away their tears. They still looked up at you apprehensively and with uncertainty.

"I'll show you a magic trick." You began, grinning as the kids began to smile back at you. You pulled a seed out of your pocket and held it between closed hands, using a bit of your powers and felt it grow in your palms. When you revealed what you were holding, they collectively gasped.

A bud of a flower now rested in your hand. You smiled at their innocent eyes and held it to them, "Now I'm going to need your help for the next part. Everyone has to blow on the flower."

They nodded eagerly, crawling around you and on the count of three, everyone followed your instructions. And low and behold, the bud bloomed into a beautiful blossom right between your fingers.

One of the girls clamoured into your lap to hold the flower herself and you chuckled, wrapping your arms tightly around her, "You know what this flower means?"

They shook their heads, "It means faith, and hope. If you have faith and hope in us, then you'll get something beautiful in return."

For once, they look contemplatively and you chuckled, feeling pride at the fact that you managed to sow some wisdom in their minds. The girl that had been sitting in your lap turned in your grasp, with the flower in her hand and then reached up to tuck it behind your ear.

"For me?" She nodded happily and you smiled widely, kissing her cheek, "Thank you, petal."

Satisfied that you were able to calm them down, you gently placed the girl back on the floor before moving away from the group. Just as you were about to join the others, you ran into Robin. You didn't know he had just seen the whole thing.

Pulling the flower from behind your ear, you handed it to him, "You know in some cultures, this flower means to pick up the slack and stop looking like a confused chicken." You snapped.

Business as usual.

Robin looked back to the flower you had slipped into his hands, you had said it meant faith and hope, and you had given it to him. He looked back up to see you shuffling away from him quickly, a blush on your face. He smiled.

You were more nurturing and kinder than you let on, it was like it was programmed into your personality and yet you never showed it when you knew they were watching. That wasn't the only part of yourself that you were hesitant to show them.

And the more Robin observed you, the more he realized that you used flower language to depict a lot of your emotions. It was a silent way of letting them out, without having to tell other people what's really in your heart.

You thought you were sly about it, but nothing went under Robin's radar.

Everyone was watching a movie on the flat screen in the rec room. You hadn't realized you were so tired, the movie was boring, something that M'Gann had picked and you hadn't slept the night before, busy patrolling your city.

Your eyelids began to droop before you could even understand what was going on, your head lolling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Robin hadn't realized that he was napping through the movie until he felt a weight on his shoulder. He nearly jumped awake and glanced to his side to see you sound asleep, breathing gently. He nearly chuckled, was this what you looked like when you weren't scowling at everybody?

His heart skipped a beat, god, were you beautiful. The smell of flowers vaguely hit his nose and he noticed the red gardenia plant growing steadily in the corner of the room.

'Red Gardenias means a secret love,' Robin recalled from a book he had read, 'It's a secret way for someone to say I love you.'

He glanced back at you still sleeping peacefully, face completely relaxed and briefly wondered if your powers were taking the lead on your emotions and making gardenias grow around the cave. Or were you dreaming about something?

Something in his heart grew, here you were sleeping against his shoulder, making symbols of a secret love grow around the room. This had to be a sign of something, right?

Before he could contemplate it any further, you squirmed and then began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open, hazily taking in your surroundings before they landed on the boy beside you and widened in size, skin darkening with a blush.

"Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?" You snapped and turned on your heel to stomp out of the room without even waiting for a response from him. The others who noticed the way he was just staring at the place you were in surprise. You always do such a 180 when you're around him and conscious.

"Wow, sunshine's crabby in the morning." Wally commented from beside him. When he didn't get any response, he looked over to see Robin with a silly smile on his face.

Dick couldn't stop himself from grinning. The gardenias were still blooming.

***

"Antheia, do you think you will be able to stop the plants from growing any further?" Batman turned to face you, only to find you staring at him with a hazy, blank expression.

"Antheia?" Robin called but you didn't even flinch, your eyes were locked onto the holo-computer, seeing the thick vines that were twisting and turning. Their call was overwhelming, you could feel them grow even beneath your feet. It was like a siren was blearing through your head.

You couldn't tell what they were trying to say, it was like they were muffled. It was confused and lost, following Ivy and it was happy listening to her. And yet, it was feeling pain, the Justice League was busy pruning her as we speak. It was scared, crying out for someone to help them and you felt obligated to help. Your mind was getting heavy, throbbing with an oncoming migraine.

"(Y/N)!" Your eyes snapped open and focused onto the boy in front of you. Everyone was staring at you in concern and you blinked, suddenly not able to remember what the hell was going on. You were just trying to focus on something other than the screams and cries of the plant.

"......What?" You asked a little dumbly, noticing the concern on Robin's face. The plants were still crying. You couldn't get the painful sound of their screams out of your mind. You felt like curling up into a ball and crying.

"Batman asked if you would be able to stop the plants?"

"Oh, um, no." You answered in a distracted way that made his face pinch with worry. His hands were still grasping your shoulders tightly, keeping his face in close proximity to yours. You didn't even realize, too out of it to even notice.

Robin on the other hand felt his cheeks get uncomfortably hot the more you stared at him with those innocent, beautiful eyes of yours. If Batman hadn't been breathing down his neck, he was sure he would've kissed you in the moment.

Unfortunately for him, his dad always knew how to ruin the moment. And he would continue to for the rest of his life. Until death do them part. Even after the two of you grow up and live together, the Batman would find some way to interrupt your fun.

"Robin?"

"Huh?"

"The mission."

Oh. Right.

***

"Robin!" You screamed when one of Ivy's plants wrapped around his neck and slammed him against the trees. They didn't let up curling tighter around his throat. Fear struck you as he began choking from breath and you knew you had to do something.

Suddenly murderous intent took over you and you glared at Ivy who returned it with a smug smirk of her own. Oh, how you'd rip that smirk off her face.

"Okay Ivy, you wanna play? Let's play." You ground out, slamming your hands against the vine around Robin's neck and it began disintegrating beneath your fingers. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath and you tuned out the sound of the plant crying as it died beside him.

Ivy heard it just as loudly as you had, she screamed and more plants lunged towards the both of you.

"Go help the others! I'm about to snap this twig." You spat at Robin, using your powers to kill the roots as it reached you. It was working slowly, your powers weak to the pain of the plants around you. Even as every cell of your body told you not to, you clenched your fingers into fists and watched as the creeper feel to the marsh, dead.

You engaged in battle with Ivy. Plants were screaming for mercy all around you but you couldn't stop for even a second. Life around you was trembling but you had to keep fighting the villain in front of you because if you hesitated for even a second, many more would die.

Thorns scratched your skin, drawing blood and curled around Ivy, sinking barbs into her skin.

"Face it girlie! You're never going to overpower me!"

"Oh, I'm not trying to overpower you, just distract you long enough for Robin to get rid of the control system." You replied, just as smug as she had been at the start of the fight. Now you got to see her face melt into one of panic just as Robin jumped over her head and to your side with a grin identical to yours.

"Cover your ears!" He sang, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ducking, covering your body with his own. You were grateful for it; you weren't sure you could even keep your body upright at the moment.

Then you heard the explosion and your heart stopped. Every single fibre of your body burned red hot fire as you heard screams and cries around you. Bile was crawling up your throat and your breathing got thin. They were sobbing a heart-broken wail and your eyes misted at the mere sound.

Without realizing it, you were gripping onto Robin's hand, brows furrowed together. The sound of the explosion cleared, the Injustice League was captured and he pulled you up to stand with the others.

It was silent for a moment. You had won.

And then the consequences of your actions hit you.

Everyone's necks snapped towards you when you let out a heart-wrenching sob. Robin, who was standing right next to you caught you just in time before your body hit the ground. Pain exploded in your chest as you began wailing against him.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! What's wrong?!" He panicked but you didn't respond, crying into his chest as you gripped his cape in an iron fist. Everything hurt and all you could feel was sorrow and guilt.

The other heroes crowded around you but your eyes were screwed shut, tears making your eyes sting. Robin held onto you tightly, pulling your body against his as you continued to cry.

"What's happening?" Artemis murmured, looking around to see the environment change before her eyes. Everyone else followed her lead to see how leaves began rotting, then the trees. The smell was pungent. Thorns and weeds were crawling up the dying trees, pulling them into the swamp.

"(Y/N) please, what's wrong?" Robin whispered in your ear but you couldn't hear him. The sounds of plants screaming and wailing was echoing through your mind. How they begged you to save them. How they begged you to stop.

And then it got hard to breathe, your chest constricted and you were wheezing. Robin had to watch in horror when petals and blood poured from your mouth. You were choking, throwing up and sobbing in his arms, and he was unable to do anything to help you.

"Flash get her to the Batcave." Batman said gruffly, he was shocked and worried for you but didn't say anything, not wanting to scare his son more, "Sending you the coordinates now."

"Alfred prepare the med-bay."

Dick watched with a sinking heart as he handed you into Flash's arms. It took him a few seconds for his mind to stop whirring, he was still kneeling in the swampy marsh when the team huddled around him.

"It's gonna be okay." Wally murmured, wrapping an arm around his shaking body.

"We just have to hope for the best."

***

When the others had gotten back to the Cave, you had just been moved there, after being looked over by Alfred. He joined you in the med-bay, wanting to keep an eye on you. But as of yet, you still had to wake up.

Dick wasn't supposed to be listening to the adult’s conversation, but he couldn't help himself, he had to know if you were going to be okay.

"The situation is undeterminable, sir. But as of now, the flowers that are clogging her respiratory system keep growing. If we don't find a cure for this, it's inevitable that she will suffocate and pass."

His heart stopped. Die? You couldn't die, not when he still had so many things to tell you. For so long, he hadn't told you of his feelings, wanting to keep the relationship between the two of you professional. But now more than anything, he wished he had said something.

There were so many things he didn't get to do with you yet. You had yet to give him a bouquet on your first date. He wanted to lay in bed with you, smelling fresh flowers as you told him what different plants symbolized. He had yet to see moments where you can't control your powers and make plants grow around the cave.

He hadn't even given you a flower yet.

"Rob listen, I did some research on this 'disease'." Wally said, falling into step with him, "It's called the Hanahaki disease."

"That's fiction Wal—"

"But that's the best we've got right now." Came his curt reply and Dick's heart clenched.

"Hanahaki disease is a fictional sickness that only occurs when someone is suffering from unrequited love. The victim will cough up flower petals that symbolize their love. This disease is only cured when the victim's feelings are romantically returned." Wally read off his phone before turning to Dick with a smile.

He raised a brow, "What?"

"You have to kiss (Y/N)!"

"What!?"

"Yep! You have to return her unrequired love!"

"Wally that's ridiculous, kissing someone doesn't cute anything."

"Well, it's the only thing we have. And for (Y/N), we need to try anything." He said, pushing him towards the med-bay. His voice was tight and tense, like he was holding onto his as his last hope and Dick prayed that it would work when the door of your room came into his sight.

You were asleep and if he hadn't known any better, he would've thought you were healthy. Wally closed the door behind him, leaving Dick alone with you. The only sound in was the beeping from your heart monitor and your light wheezing. It was getting harder to breathe.

Dick inched his way closer to you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered gently in your sleep. Leaning over the bed you were lying in; he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving his head in line with yours.

"God, please let this work." He whispered and your bottom lip was caught between his. It was feather-light but yet, electricity was buzzing through his veins and fireworks went off in his mind.

For a minute, nothing happened and his heart clenched in his chest before he kissed you a little harder. This had to work because they didn't have any other lead. Dick felt you exhale feebly against him and he almost gave up hope.

But then you took a deep breath, stealing the breath from his lungs and he pulled away quickly to see your eyelids fluttering open. The colour was returning to your cheeks and your eyes were sparkling up at him. You smiled gently and he blinked away tears of relief. Thank goodness.

'His eyes are blue' You thought, staring deeply into them. They were beautiful, alluring. You didn't know why but just looking into his eyes was addicting. Was this what it felt like to be so deep in love? That even his eyes were enough to captivate you?

"I'm so glad you're awake." He muttered, cupping your cheeks firmly and planting another kiss on your lips. You giggled lightly, heart overjoyed to find the boy you had been in love with for so long had returned your feelings and you responded to the kiss eagerly, placing your palms over his hands and leaning into him.

With your regaining strength, you felt a flower materialize in your hands. The stem between your fingers brought you comfort just as the scent of the flower brought you back life.

When Dick pulled away, you delicately slipped it into his hands and he turned his attention to it, blue eyes softening when he recognized this particular flower in his hands.

"It's an Aster." You whispered quietly, lips brushing against his and he chuckled. It was the only flower you thought of when he came to your mind, "Get it?"

Dick turned his eyes away from the blossom and looked at you again. Your heart jumped, noticing just how much love he held in them. Eyes you could swim in, overflowing with love for you. Suddenly you were overwhelmed, feeling adoration and attraction. You needed to be closer to him, even though he was pressed against you.

Your fingers curled into his collar and pulled him closer to you, slanting your lips over his in an open-mouthed kiss. Dick gasped against your lips, startled for no longer than a second before sinking against you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved gently against his, the blushing flower trapped between both your bodies. The smell of fresh flowers clouded Dick's mind with everything that was you. Your hair, your smile, your lips. If you kept kissing him like that, he was certain he'd forget his own name.

And then you pulled away and Dick noted that you were as beautiful as a fresh flower. Your skin was glowing with life and your tired eyes were twinkling. You smiled sleepily at him, eyes closing shut and he lowered you back to the bed. Immediately, you slipped back into slumber, exhausted from the day's events.

He watched for a couple seconds, making sure you were able to breathe without any problems before realizing he should tell the others that you were okay.

He slipped out of the room quietly, stealing a final glance of you sleeping peacefully in the bed and a huge smile grew on his face, "She's awake."

It was only then he noticed just how colourful the room had gotten in the few minutes he was with you.

The walls were covered with vines and roses of different colours, camelias and carnations of different shades. It littered the room, not leaving a single inch of the wall untouched and scattered petals all over the floor like confetti.

Different creepers hung from the ceiling, dusting all the superheroes with sparkling pollen and colourful petals. Not to mention there were stems crawling up the Justice League members, flowers hugging their ankles lovingly.

Batman looked a lot less intimidating with petals in his cape and a rose stuck behind his ear. Robin blushed at the sight of everyone giving him knowing smiles.

"We noticed."

Aster: This flower became a symbol of love when in Greek mythology it was placed on the altars for the gods. So now, when you send a bouquet featuring this vibrant bloom, the message of "Take Care Of Yourself For Me" is implied. It conveys deep emotional love and affection for someone.

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@sometimeseverythingsucks

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@unstable1902

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binxyu · 3 years

Text

Jungkook was meant to be just a guilty pleasure. Not your guilty pleasure, but a guilty pleasure. You knew never to fall in love with a man that thought loyalty was showing up on time. He was everything you never needed, but here you were. Your fingers pressed on the trigger that would start the flame of pain.

>>Pairing: Jeon Jungkook (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | fuckboy!jk x witch!reader

>>Word Count: 7.5k

>>Genre: Mini Series / Smut & Angst

>>Warnings/Kinks: Arguments, breast play, creampie, cum play, disloyalty, degrading, exhibitionism, fingering, hair pulling, marking, oral (receiving), praise, unprotected sex, and witchcraft

Jungkook was too beautiful for his own good.

From his pouty lips and sharp jaw line to his starry eyes. The man was perfection.

Even you had fallen for him, a woman that stopped believing in love.

But, all you could do now was remember the times you had together as the fire slowly burns in front of you.

As your love for Jeon Jungkook disappeared into nothingness.

Your fingers typed away at the keyboard, writing the second of three essays you had due. It was nearing the end of the semester and, while you were ecstatic at the mere thought of summer vacation, the stress of exams was looming over you.

“Can you look over this paragraph for me?”, you peeked up over your laptop and nodded, moving your own device out of the way to make room for Namjoon’s. Kim Namjoon was a journalist in the making, a man that knew exactly how to put events into words. He was quite different from you, but study sessions together were always eventful. You were the perfect person to correct his grammar mistakes or to help add detail to his work and he was the perfect person to help explain a certain historical detail you may have missed.

Studying religions was what you had decided was your interest considering your unique practice. You enjoyed learning about the beliefs of people centuries ago but the facts could get scrambled in your brain and that’s where Namjoon came in. He almost seemed to have a never ending timeline in his brain.

“I’d add more emphasize on Jungkook. He did beat the record after all”, you quickly realized when you read the paragraph that he was writing for the school paper again. Despite your attempts to persuade the man that he could do much better with his time, he continued to write for it.

“That’s true. Wait, how did you know about that?”, you let out an amicable chuckle. Of course Namjoon would assume you did not know. Just because you despised sports did not mean you were deaf. The whole school had been talking about the student since the track meet. While you couldn’t remember the exact record he beat, it was still a record.

“People talk”, you shrugged and Namjoon nodded. It was peaceful for a moment as you went back to typing, managing to push aside your emerging migraine. Your body was begging for a good nap, but you had to get this done. You were, among less appealing qualities, a hard worker. Perhaps it was due to the pressure put on you as a child or maybe it was because that diploma was just out of reach. Either way, nothing was going to get in the way of your future.

And, like the biggest fuck you from the universe, Jeon Jungkook walks in.

Yet, you hadn’t realized and kept typing until Namjoon cursed loudly, drawing you out of your world.

“Are you okay?”, your voice was soft before your eyes met the issue. Oh, poor clumsy Namjoon.

He had spilt his coffee all over his shirt, staining the freshly new white blouse he had worn. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dug in your bag for a napkin.

“Don’t bother, it’s too much for a napkin. I’ll go to the restroom. Be right back”, you gave him a brief nod and a thumbs up. Still, you got up with your little pack of napkins and tried to clean up the remaining coffee staining into the table. The librarian is sure to kill you both if it does end up staining the wood. Standing back to examine your work, you almost screamed.

Standing by your laptop was a tall figure with the most sinister smirk you’ve ever seen.

Jeon fucking Jungkook spilt your coffee all over your notes and laptop.

Your mouth hung open for a moment before fury overtook the shock. You stomped up to the broadly built man and yes you didn’t believe in violence as a solution but all you wanted to do was slap the smirk right off his gorgeous face.

“Why did you do that?”, you also wanted to yell but the librarian was already eyeing the table and you couldn’t draw attention to the mess.

“Because I like to watch you suffer, sourpuss”, how have you not killed the man in front of you? You had no idea. Because that name infuriated you.

You knew it was the student’s way of messing with you, wanting to strike that minuscule nerve inside of you. No one else believed you could get angry but Jungkook knew you could. Mostly because he had caused that anger.

“And why is that? Because Jimin told you another lie about me?”, Jeon Jungkook was so impossibly similar to Park Jimin that it was uncanny who he had learned his traits from. Truth be told, you had the smallest crush on the man in front of you during freshmen year. He was so affectionate, caring, and friendly back then.

But, instead of ending up with the sweet heartthrob, you had ended up with Jimin for that year and the next.

Starting out, he was simply a popular boy and loved you with his whole heart. But, time went by and his true colors shun through like the sunlight through your irritatingly useless blinds. He was a playboy. An awfully good one at that for you to have never noticed the extra pairs of undergarments that laid on his floor when you slept over at his dorm.

He cheated, but he blamed it all on you and even Jeon Jungkook hates your guts because you were sure Jimin had told him exactly what he had told most of your friends. That you had broken his heart with your “horrifying” witchcraft and that you were dangerous. It explained why so many students asked to see your devil shrine the next day or tried to barge into your dorm to look at what Jimin talked about.

The most ironic thing was that you had never used magick around the man and you barely used it to begin with. You supposed it was for good reason considering that happened the first time you told someone about it.

“Jimin doesn’t lie. He’s never lied to me and I’m sure you’re well aware of what you did”, his finger jabbed harshly above your breast, just slightly lower than your collarbone. Among many things, Jungkook was dense and forgetful. You noticed that quickly when you started spotted reminders written on his fingers or palm. Just like the little note saying “library 7pm” was written on the finger jabbing you.

Unless the track star had another reason to be in the library he never visited, he wrote that down just to catch you in time.

“Tell me, Jeon. What did I do?”, you tilted your head and moved away from him, realizing the coffee was now leaking onto the floor. You desperately wished Namjoon would hurry up and get back to help you.

“You broke his heart. Using magick or something”, you bit your lips in annoyance and turned around to face him.

“Or something? Jungkook, I never did anything to Jimin. I know you won’t believe it because you look up to him like some god, but he cheated on me. He broke my heart”, you jabbed back, hitting the same spot he hit you, “and, if you haven’t noticed, Jimin doesn’t seem heartbroken, does he?”. If he dared to say yes you may have to use that horrifying magick Jimin lied about because your ex was anything but heartbroken. He was with a new woman almost every night and, even with this knowledge, they lined up to be with him. Who could deny the charming Park Jimin?

Finally, Jungkook shook his head, his curly black hair bouncing as he did the movement. If he wasn’t such a nuisance, you might’ve wished you could run your fingers through it. It looked so fluffy.

“Then, leave me alone. It’s been years of your torment and I’m tired of it”, you sighed and slung your bag over your shoulder after shoving your slightly wet laptop into it, walking out of the library after sending a text to Namjoon that you had felt bad because no one really knew about your fights with Jungkook and Namjoon would surely try to beat his ass if he found out about it.

Leaving the coffee on the table was a bold move but a part of you hoped that the asshole would clean it up. It was his mess after all. Not your’s.

“You’re coming to the track meet, right?”, the voice startled you and you sat up on your bed, making direct eye contact with Kim Taehyung. The only guy with a key to your dorm.

“Tae, I love you but you know I do not do sports”, you grumbled and flopped back onto your bed. Your classes had you beat and the need for a nap was too great to give up. Even if it was for your best friend.

“I know but it would mean so much if you were there”, don’t do it. Don’t do it.

You did it.

You made direct eye contact with those big puppy eyes Taehyung always used to get his way. You had fallen victim once again.

Which was why you had ended up in the cold, shivering as you watched the team run around the track for what felt like an eternity.

Taehyung had done great considering he barely moved before the season but who really stood out was Jungkook. His back muscles were only moments away from ripping through the flimsy shirt he was wearing and sweat was coating his hair. He was aware of how good he looked. He always was. He even was ballsy enough to wink at one of the girls screaming his name in the crowd.

Thankfully, the pleasant bliss that was drinking kept your mind off how irritated you were. You had snuck in a beer to drink (not that everyone else didn’t) and the alcohol loosened you up a bit.

After the meet was over, a sweaty Taehyung was clinging to you like a massive koala. He was high off adrenaline and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to cuddle or jump around.

“Tae, take this before you pass out on top of me”, you handed him a water and he gratefully took it, still leaning against you as he chugged down the drink.

Taehyung and you were polar opposites. He was an athlete, quite dorky, a great singer, and was overly optimistic. You, on the other hand, liked to keep to yourself, was not the best of singers, and always stuck to the reality of things. Even if you could manipulate that reality the tiniest bit.

“Let’s get you home”, you let the man lean his weight on you tiredly as you started to walk towards the exit of the field.

“Sourpuss, I need to talk to you”, that voice was definitely not the one you needed to hear when you were this tired and already agitated. What does a girl have to do to spend time in her bed?

“I’m a little busy if you haven’t realized”, you gestured to Taehyung, who was breathing directly on your neck and nuzzling his nose against the skin. It wasn’t an odd gesture considering your close friendship but his face was so cold it send goosebumps down your spine.

“I’ll help”, Jungkook offered, quickly coming to your rescue by crouching down and getting Tae on his back. The man grumbled but was happy to take the ride considering it was less soreness for his legs to endure the next day.

The Jeon Jungkook helping? What a trip.

“What do you want?”, you winced at how rude it sounded. Sure, Jungkook most definitely deserves said rudeness, but he was helping you.

“I’m sorry”, you legitimately thought you were hearing things and turned your head to look at him, stopping in your tracks.

“Can you say that again? I don’t think I heard you correctly”, the athlete groaned before turning to look at you, frustration evident on his face.

“I’m sorry. You were right about Jimin. He’s been talking shit behind my back for months and I had no idea”, if it wasn’t for your “told you so” attitude, you would’ve felt sorry for him. Jimin was one of his closest friends after all.

“Hate to say I told you so but”, he glared at you to shut up and you quickly did. His glare was so cold that a shiver went up your spine.

“Sorry, it was a joke. Jimin is really manipulative so don’t let him bring you down”, you reassured him, even bringing your hand up to pat his shoulder. By the way he flinched away, you would’ve assumed your hand was made of lava.

Noted. Jungkook hates being touched.

“I assumed so much about you and that was immature of me”, the man smiled softly at you. It felt like arrows pierced your heart. He had such a cute smile for an asshole. Like a bunny.

“It’s fine. Lots of people assume things about me”, you shrugged as you both started walking again, Taehyung looking down at you to make sure you’re okay. He was like your protective older brother and you couldn’t be more thankful to have him around.

“But they shouldn’t. So what if you follow a different religion? It doesn’t mean you’re evil”, that was probably the first time someone agreed with your practices besides Taehyung and Namjoon (mostly because he understood it better than others).

“Thank you for saying that. It means a lot”, you finally smiled back at him, sending his heart right into his chest as his heartbeat picked up. Needless to say, he adored your smile.

“I hate to ask this of you but could you tutor me on Epidemiology? I regret ever taking it and I’ll pay you”, you were wide-eyed with shock to say the least. You didn’t expect Jungkook to go out of his way to learn. Especially, not with you.

“Sure, you can join Namjoon and I in the morning”, you nodded before you saw the way Jungkook’s nose crinkled up in displeasure.

“What? What’s wrong with that?”, he sighed in response to the question as you both reached your dorm building. You’d just let Tae stay with you for the night.

“Namjoon hates my guts. We’re way too different. Besides, aren’t you two dating? I don’t want to be some third wheel”, Jungkook almost sounded disgusted at the idea, probably imagining you making out with Namjoon in front of him.

“I’m not dating him. He’s just the only other intelligent male I can tolerate”, he seemed to relax once you finished speaking but there was still tenseness evident in his shoulders which wasn’t due to the large man on his back.

“I still don’t get along with him despite the fact that he writes about me all the time. He once yelled at me for cheating and wrote an article about it”, that was a slap right to your face. Right, Jungkook was a player and he could throw your feelings aside like one of his cigarettes. Do not get attached.

“Well, don’t cheat”, you said because, let’s be real, it’s the truth. You unlocked the door and helped Taehyung off of his back.

“Bye Koo, thanks again”, your words were quick and you kicked the door closed with your shoe, your hands full thanks to the oversized man child clinging onto you.

Koo. He liked that.

Weeks had ticked by and, somehow, Jungkook had managed to get your number. Honestly, Namjoon probably slipped it out or Taehyung gave it to him. According to Tae, the man had been oddly friendly to him and they were (borderline) friends now. They played video games together, practiced together, and even barged into your place for snacks together.

Great. Now you had two man-children to take care of and feed. It was definitely taking a chunk out of your paycheck each week to get extra snacks for the two. They ate like starving animals whenever they came over. A small part of you even thought it was just to piss you off even more.

Jungkook finally managed to get you to agree for a tutoring session with him. Just one. If this one went well then maybe you would agree to more.

The only sad thing about the session was that it was scheduled to happen right after your last class on Friday in your previous dorm. The dorm you had just finished cleaning up since the last time the two adult toddlers had destroyed it.

Surprisingly, when you had woken up one morning, Jungkook was still there. You assumed he and Tae were too drunk to get back to their own dorms and had decided to just sleepover at your’s. It was quite annoying if you were to be honest, but the way Koo looked actually interested in your religion was enticing.

He didn’t look scared or disgusted when he looked at your little collection of crystals on your desk or the jar resting on your end table sealed with candle wax. If anything, he actually looked amused or even impressed.

“I’ll pick you up after class. I can’t believe you don’t drive and walk to your dorm every day”, Jungkook shook his head as he walked beside you. Coincidentally, your last classes were next to each other but you were shocked to hear him offer to give you a ride.

“Don’t judge me, Mr. Playboy. I just have a fear of hitting someone. Have you seen the lunatics at this campus? They will run out into traffic for fun”, the man chuckled wholeheartedly at the pout on your lips. Plus, your joke was actually pretty accurate. Even he had almost hit a drunk idiot when trying to get back to his dorm late one night.

“Okay, that’s fair. So, you okay with me driving you?”, you nodded cautiously. While Jungkook was guaranteed to know every path to your dorm by now, you were still guarded. Being in that tight of a space with him was going to be difficult.

No, you don’t get those so-called “butterflies” when you were with him. Honestly, those butterflies were typically a bad sign to you. Feeling sick because you loved someone sounded a bit odd and almost contradictory.

You actually found yourself with more powerful emotions than anything. If Jungkook made you angry, you were angry. If he made you happy, you were happy.

Everything just felt so much stronger when you were around him. Thankfully, he almost always made you happy. He made you laugh because, once he discovered that beautiful sound, he couldn’t get enough.

So, after your class, you met him out in the hall and he walked you to his car. Now you realized how such an undetermined man got into college.

He was filthy rich.

Sitting there in the parking spot was a brand new Mercedes Benz. Its black color almost matched the distinct leather jacket that he decided to wear today. It very much screamed Jeon Jungkook.

However, it did not scream you whatsoever. You were almost afraid to get near it.

“Hop in. My grade isn’t getting any lower”, he opened the door for you and you weren’t sure if it was because you were friends, or whatever the fuck you two were, or if it was because he wanted a discount.

That’s not fucking happening. He’s already stolen plenty of money through snacks from your cabinets.

Meekly, you got into the vehicle, immediately buckling your seatbelt as if it was going to hurl itself into motion at any moment. Jungkook shut the door and went around to get into the drivers’ seat. Apparently he trusted his own driving so much that he never wore a seatbelt (Namjoon would’ve had a stroke if he was told that) and he drove with one hand (scratch that- make it two strokes).

Despite those things, he was an actual good driver. You felt safe and he drove the speed limit. Maybe it was just because you were in the car with him?

Getting out of the luxurious leather seats proved to be a hassle considering you knew your seats in your dorm were no where near as comfortable. You could sleep in that passenger seat without a care in the world compared to your own bed. Still, you forced yourself to get out and you two went up to your dorm. Jungkook is way too familiar with the place now considering he barely talks to you. It’s your place and, yet, he comes here for Tae.

“Alright, what unit do you need help on?”, you asked softly as you took the needed supplies out of your bag. You actually already took Epidemiology. It had nothing to do with your major but it was interesting to you. Who wouldn’t want to learn about the science of the world’s biggest killer: disease?

Jungkook simply looked at you, blinking a few times and pressing his tongue into his cheek in that nervous habit you realized he had.

“Oh- for fucks sake, Koo”, you grumbled as you realized how long of a process this was going to be.

It had been months since you began tutoring the student and, finally, there was progress.

Standing proudly with his shoulders back was Jeon Jungkook holding a test with a big number ‘92’ on it in red ink. Your heart swelled with pride.

“I passed! This was the exam review test so I’ll pass the exam, right?”, you smiled brightly as you looked at his excited eyes. You never thought Jungkook would ever be excited over passing a class but you can’t judge people by their covers, right?

“Yeah! Just keep up with the studying and you got it”, you nodded quickly, looking away from his puppy eyes when you felt happiness engulf you like a fire.

Ironically, you were actually playing with fire. Your hand tugged on the trigger and a flame flickered from the end of your lighter. You brought it down and lit the candle in front of you. To be honest, you were a bit of a goodie two shoes but you did break one rule.

No fire in the dorms.

“Hey, I really wanted to thank you. I’m actually passing all my classes now and it fills like my life has purpose again”, woah, didn’t expect that.

“No problem, Koo. Your life always has purpose. What do you mean?”, you looked up from what you were doing, noticing he was leaning against the frame of your door.

“All I did was party and drink. Sure, I was a good athlete but that can only take you so far”, you nodded in understanding and stood up, walking towards him.

He followed your every move like prey waiting for the predator to attack them.

But, instead of an attack, he was met with a warm, genuine, and, all around, great hug.

“Do you think of me as everyone else does?”, you looked up at him, meeting his starry eyes.

Oh, you hated them because of how much you loved them. They held the galaxy within them and you could stare into them for hours if given the chance.

You were many things but, tragically for Jungkook, a liar wasn’t one of them.

“Honestly, I did before. I’ve seen you do some of the things the rumors talk about-“, smoking, cheating, fighting, “but now I know that’s not all you are. There’s more to you, Koo”.

All Jungkook had been able to think about was your words. Sure, he didn’t care about your opinion before but it truly did make him happy to know you thought better of him.

“Jk! Where have you been?”, oh no.

“Jimin? I’ve just been at the gym a lot”, lies. He had been with you a lot.

“Ah, I see. How’s the bet going?”, the shorter man asked, running his fingers through his precisely cut hair. What a born model.

The bet. The bet you had no clue about. The bet Jungkook was too dense to refuse.

“It’s going. She hugged me yesterday”, Jimin scoffed and then chuckled, vastly different sounds that almost made Jungkook double over in fear. Truth be told, he despised Jimin. He despised him because he scared him. The only other man more influential than him was Jimin and that meant Jimin could ruin his reputation in a matter of seconds.

“That’s all? Damn, she really is void of love”, the bet Jimin was referring to was the one he made with the younger at the beginning of the year.

“I bet you can’t make her fall in love with you. She didn’t even love me, Koo! Me! I’m telling you, if you make her fall in love with you then I’ll get you anything you want”.

Time was running out with exams coming up and Jungkook needed to hurry if he was going to win such a bet. But, was it worth it if it meant disappointing you? Jimin may be scary but you made him feel so happy and so proud.

The only time he had seen you disappointed was when Taehyung broke one of your jars, resulting in a mess of coins, herbs, and wax on the floor. That’s the day he decided he never wanted to be on the receiving end of one of those looks.

“Yeah, she’s guarded which is understandable-“, wait- did Jeon Jungkook just grow some balls? “I’d be void of love too if everyone judged me for something I believed in”. He did.

“Where is that coming from? She deserves it, doesn’t she? Come on, JK. Keep that head in the game!”, Jimin patted his head like he was a child with all A’s on his report card, which, for once, was actually true thanks to you.

What game? You? Were you truly just a game to him?

“Alright, I’ve got this”, damn. Maybe you were.

Most nights you found yourself at the library now. It was the only place that was filled with peace and quiet. Especially on a Friday. Not even the librarian was here.

“Guess who”, hands covered your eyes and you would’ve punched the man behind you if you didn’t immediately recognize his husky voice. It was soothing with just the perfect mix of roughness. You couldn’t help but wonder what it sounded like when he just woke up.

“An asshole who thinks it’s okay to sneak up on women in a deserted place”, you grumbled and Jungkook immediately removed his hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”, oh here we go. Argument number two thousand.

“I wasn’t scared. I was just saying that, one, you’re an ass and, two, don’t do that to women”, he nodded in agreement and you thought that was the stopping of an argument. Boy, oh boy, were you wrong.

“I won’t anymore but you’re so weak. I’ve scared you so many times now”, you glared at him. Thanks to months of being by Jungkook’s side, you had become a bit more out of control. The feelings you used to keep caged up were now more out in the open. You cussed more often, even tried drinking (and almost spit it out on him), and your frustration was no longer hidden from the world.

“Jungkook, you are a menace to society and I would like it if you leaved”, it was a pointless threat. You didn’t really mean it. You adored his company but you wouldn’t admit that with a gun to your head.

“Liar, you love me”, shit. Did you? No, don’t ask that. It was just a joke.

Damn you and your overthinking.

“No, I hate you. Shut up”, that was also a useless threat. Jungkook never shut up. He was quite the talker and shutting up was not in his vocabulary.

“No, you hate me. Shut up”, he sat on the table you were previously working on, knowing this would take a while. Your arguments always lasted between thirty minutes to two or three hours. You both hated to back down.

“No, I love you. Shut the fuck up”, wait a second-

“As you wish”, he smirked victoriously and leaned closer, his face so close to your’s that you could smell his musky cologne.

“That was wrong”, you glared at him and he shook his head, “don’t open your mouth aga-“ you were cut off as his lips connected with your’s. He kissed you so intensely that your mind was fogged up, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Finally, with your brain still hooked on adrenaline, your hands found their way to his cheeks, cupping his well defined face as you kissed back. You could feel him smile into the kiss before he pulled away, leaving a spark traveling down your body. Now, that’s a good feeling.

“Ah, I love when you shut the fuck up”, you were so close to beating him with your bag.

Everything was weird after the kiss. Life wasn’t some fairytale where you both lived happily ever after in some old palace somewhere.

No, you were both actually stuck in that “fuck, what are we?” mess.

Love wasn’t something you could control and that was why you never let it get that far, but, with Jungkook, it felt uncontrollable, spreading like wildfire.

So, you avoided him.

Of course, it wasn’t the most humane or easiest form of dealing with your feelings but it worked.

Well, for a little bit until Koo decided to block you off in the library, cornering you into the back section of the religious books. Oh, how ironic.

“What’s wrong?”, his voice made your knees want to give out. It was early and you assumed he woke up early just to catch you. His attire said that enough from his sweatpants to the tank top hugging his upper body. He obviously just threw something on before he left.

“What are you talking about?”, you tilted your head and tried to act innocent, but, once again, a liar you were not.

“Oh please, you’re obviously pissed off or scared of me or something”, bingo. You were horrified of what you were feeling and, in tune with it, Jungkook.

“I don’t know! Why do you even care? You’re obviously going to pass your exam so what am I needed for anymore?”, you winced at your own words, watching as the man’s usual bright expression turned into a sorrowful one.

“It’s much more than that, y/n”, that was probably one of the first times he had said your name. He usually called you nicknames like princess, sourpuss, or whatever else he came up with depending on his mood.

“Then what is it?”, the stare he gave you made you want to hide further into the corner. It was so predatory that your body was trying to fight its own instincts to run away and avoid the problem. You were always a flight over fight type of girl.

“You”, the one word made your eyebrows furrow, racking your brain for a response or understanding of what he meant. Jungkook shook his head as you watched your face twist in confusion.

“You’re so dense. Why would I kiss you if it wasn’t all for you?”, he leaned closer to you, hand resting on the shelf of the bookcase behind you. You silently thanked the universe that no one else was in there yet.

“Discount?”, it was the first thing you thought of and it caused a low chuckle to rumble out of Jungkook’s chest. He looked up into your eyes and it almost knocked the air out of you.

“Hmm, unless it’s a fuck buddy discount then I don’t think I want it”, he raised an eyebrow cockily and your eyes went wide. Little did Jungkook know that he just complicated your relationship even more.

“And what if I’m okay with making such a discount?”, the student practically groaned at the words, free hand finding its way on your hip, squeezing it. You don’t know where your new found confidence came from but you had gotten rather blunt since hanging out with Jungkook.

“Then I’d say you’re not the person I thought you were”, he hummed, leaning in to whisper in your ear. The way his breath tickled your ear sent sparks through your body.

“Is that what you want? For me to take you here against these books?”, yes you did. Looking around, you were met with many versions of Bible and other holy books of all religions. It was absolutely filthy and wrong to do it there which was why it was perfect.

“Yes, I want that”, your nails dug into the wood behind you, trying to ground your emotions down. It had always been an escape tactic to you.

“How naughty”, now you understood why he had chosen today of all days to corner you. He loved the skirt you were wearing and how easily it gave access to everything delicious underneath. Plus, your legs were perfect to him.

His fingers danced along your thighs before he pushed up your skirt, revealing the black lace panties underneath. Oh, you knew what was going to happen today and you definitely knew Jungkook liked his black.

“So pretty. Just for me?”, the question took you off guard, your own questions flooding your brain. Ultimately, after a few moments of silence, you decided he probably had a possession thing. Who didn’t like to feel powerful?

“Just for you, Koo. Fuck, touch me please”, so you decided to feed his little ego, edging him on until he pulled the panties to the side to reveal your glistening pussy.

The dim light of the library truly didn’t do it justice but he couldn’t help himself from finding it to be also perfect. He was in deep shit now.

His long fingers ran down your slit until they reached their destination: your pussy. He rubbed around it before he slowly plunged his middle finger into the wetness, curling against your walls.

Fuck, you always hated that finger but with it inside of you? Maybe you could make an exception.

Your body shook in response to the stimulation since you hadn’t been touched in so long, your hands gripping the wood tighter to keep yourself steady. Jungkook smirked when you clenched around his finger before he added another, stretching you out wonderfully as he scissored you open.

And that was when Jungkook found his favorite sound in the world.

“Jungkook! Oh god”, you moaning his name sounded like music to his ears and he couldn’t get enough. The only thing he hated was how quiet it was since you were still conscious of the library around you. He wanted you to scream it.

“You like that, princess? You want more?”, you obediently nodded, not in the mood to be denied an orgasm (which you were sure Jungkook would do if you didn’t obey). The man chuckled and leaned down, still pumping his fingers steadily as if it took no effort at all. If you had done this yourself then your fingers would have been cramping by now.

Your body jolted when Jungkook’s plump lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly on the nerve as if he was starving. To be fair, he had skipped breakfast.

You feared for the books behind you as your body spasmed, orgasming on the man’s fingers. You took deep breaths once you were finished and watched as Jungkook pulled away, pulling his cum covered fingers out of you.

With prolonged eye contact, he slipped the digits into his mouth and sucked the juices off of them. A new wave of arousal went through you when he tapped your lips with them, making you open your mouth. You gagged briefly when they hit the back of your throat but you sucked on it, licking your way up his middle finger.

“Good girl”, now that was going to haunt you forever. You whined when he pulled his fingers away and he smiled teasingly at you.

“I’m going to need to see these”, your eyes went wide when he gripped the collar of your shirt and ripped it clean down the middle, tossing it aside as if it didn’t cost you a fortune.

“Jeon Jungkook! That was expensive”, you huffed but he paid you no mind, just reaching behind you to remove your bra too so it can join the rest of your clothes.

“What if someone sees? I can’t cover these up quickly, Koo”, you crossed your arms over your chest, looking around cautiously. Jungkook just laughed and pulled your arms away, pinning your wrists above your head so he can press his body against your own.

“Take my shirt off and you can put that over you for the day. It’s fine, sourpuss”, oh you would’ve slapped him if you weren’t so turned on. He let go of your wrists and you quickly removed his shirt for him, revealing a muscular chest you could’ve never imagined.

And he never imagined how beautiful you’d look with your hard nipples pressed against the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. He grabbed them immediately and you failed to see the spark in his eyes as he squished them together.

“That was one of my favorite shirts. What a di-“, you yelped when he pulled your leg up over his shoulder, yanked his pants and boxers down, and pulled your panties aside to rub his angry tip against your folds. Your head rested back as he rubbed against your clit, covering his cock in your juices.

“What a dick indeed”, Jungkook chuckled deeply, arousal blurring his world into nothing but you. The only thing that mattered at that moment was feeling you.

His lips attached to your neck and you were so out of reality that you didn’t realize he was littering the skin with his marks, a silent claim on you as he pushed himself inside of you.

“Oh shit, it’s exactly as I imagined. So tight and warm”, and he was just as you imagined. So very big. You didn’t think anyone else could stretch you out as much as Jeon Jungkook and that thought made you groan.

“You’ve been imagining it?”, it was your turn to smirk and, for the first time ever, the man in front of you blushed.

“Oh please princess. I know you’ve been thinking about it too”, and you had been. Not that you’d ever admit that after he just basically friends with benefits zoned you.

“Just move you asshole”, Jungkook gripped your hair, tugging on the soft strands as he finally kept pushing, bottoming out inside of you perfectly.

His big hands moved to grip your hips, a little help to keep you up as he started to snap his own into your’s. He was mildly uncomfortable at first but, as you adjusted to his size, bliss filled your body.

Finally, you were doing something to make yourself happy and pleased. Maybe Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best man to do it but he was making you feel so so good.

The man snapped you out of your thoughts as he brought your hand down to your clit. You understood and started to rub it, happy knowing that Jungkook was also looking out for your own pleasure too. Not that you’d know he had been thinking about you creaming on his big cock for months now.

“Keep doing that”, he whispered despite the heavy groan that threatened to come out. He was referring to the uncontrollable clenching you were doing around his dick, sucking him into your walls with each muscle movement. You listened and (despite knowing you were going to keep doing it anyways) clenched once again.

“Can I cum inside?”, you whimpered at the idea of Jungkook’s cum filling you up and, knowing you’re on grade A birth control, you nodded. While Jungkook was effortlessly attractive, kids were not part of your plans by far.

“You close too, princess?”, you nodded, a small moan spilling past your lips despite your best efforts to be quiet. With that knowledge, the man orgasmed and you could feel his seed start to coat your insides. The feeling made you tumble over into your own orgasm, coating his softening cock with your release.

“I think that’s the best sex I’ll ever have”, you praised him as you tried to put your cramping leg down off his shoulder. Instead, he held it tighter and pulled himself out of you. He watched as his cum started the spill out of you, dripping down your thighs beautifully.

So, he’s a man who likes to admire his work.

You almost screamed when he pushed it back inside of you with his finger due to the sensitivity.

“See you later, sourpuss”, Jungkook smirked and put your panties back to their original position before he pulled his own boxers and pants back up. He walked off and you were left gobsmacked with his cum dripping out of you onto your panties.

As the weeks passed by, the world became more vibrant and cheerful but also more chilling and worrisome.

Exams were over and you were free to go wherever you pleased but, somehow, you always found yourself wanting to be with what was supposed to be your secret guilty pleasure. Now, he was your everything. He truly brought color into your world; sadly, color always comes with black and white.

“I won the bet, Jimin. I want what I asked for”, you listened intently from the other aisle of books. The library had become your go to spot to find Jungkook. Surprisingly, the once unmotivated student was more frequently in here because of the sheer relief he got when you stood before him with a proud smile. What a softy.

“Really? She fell for you? Damn, you still got it. I can’t believe you asked for this though”, the disgust in your ex’s voice was evident and you so desperately wanted to see what he was referring to. You truly thought Koo had stopped being friends with Jimin after he apologized but apparently you were wrong about a lot of things. Most of all, you were wrong to love again.

Feeling your tears start to spill down your cheeks for the first time in years, you forced yourself out of the library. You should’ve seen it coming. What would a playboy want with you? A woman looking for a serious relationship? You’re an idiot and you’ll fix it.

Said playboy must’ve spotted you because you could hear his heavy footsteps behind you as you rushed out of the library, hurrying into a run with the safety of your dorm in mind. It was time to end this.

So, here you were. Remembering everything from the past few months as the candles in front of you burned, getting so desperately close to the string connecting them. You had carved an evident ‘JK’ on one and your initials on the other, bonding them to the people who needed to be apart from one another.

Watching his candle, you noticed the wax dripping down the long wick and you knew they were tears. You knew because of the loud banging coming from your dorm door, the man on the other side screaming and sobbing for you to let him explain.

Your candle, however, burned strongly with vengeance. It stood so tall compared to Jungkook’s and, as the fire finally burned through the string tying you both together, you felt free. It was like Jeon Jungkook had never affected you before and his name slowly slipped from your mind.

Eventually, the banging stopped as the candles reached their ends and the fire flickered out under your gaze. You felt so blissfully numb as you walked towards the door, opening it to reveal a confused Jungkook looking up at you.

“What did you do? It’s like-“, you cut him off with your hand, pulling him up rather roughly.

“You never knew me. That’s how I want it, Jeon Jungkook. You never knew me and I never knew you. Now, get your prize and leave me alone”, you slammed the door in his face. You felt pure relief but Jungkook could still feel a pang of want in his body.

You had failed to notice the little wax left of his candle that stood strong as you dumped it in the trash and he failed to notice that he had left his “prize” outside your door as he rushed off.

A gorgeous rose quartz necklace.

What a way to declare your love to a witch who just cut it all off.

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dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

i am very much in love with your whole Leda verse and it’s many variations but I ESPECIALLY love this newest one with Eddy and Izzy being married!! Going off of canon and general responsibility vibes, Izzy seems to be the one who takes care of her most often — I would love to see something the other way round, with a minor illness/migraine/idk twisted ankle or something that means they’re in charge of taking care of Izzy for a change. I’m picturing her being a good nurse for someone who’s sick but not worryingly sick? and picturing Izzy being an ATROCIOUS patient? idk I would love to see your take!

(I am so on this particular timeline train at the moment that I did not even hesitate, anon. Here's Izzy with the flu and his Eddy.)

It crept on him through the day. He woke up a little fuzzy around the edges, stuffed up and tired. Eddy wasn’t due back until noon, so he kept it a quiet morning. He wasn’t one to stay in bed, but he just made himself coffee and drank it on the couch instead of doing one of his usual early morning chores. A shower woke him up a little. Probably just a bad night’s sleep then.

The cough started while he was sanding down his latest project, he figured it was the dust and took a break to drink some water. His hands were a little shaky. Wearily, he took a break to sort out lunch. Eddy usually came in hungry and it was good to eat together after they’d been away for a bit. He made a chicken salad with last night's leftovers and studded it with dried cranberries.

He kept coughing which was more than a little annoying. Refilling his water cup, he stored the chicken salad in the fridge and decided that the rest could wait. The couch seemed like a good call. His eyes kind of hurt, along with his head. Might as well just rest them for a second.

“Iz?” Eddy stood over him. How had she gotten in without him hearing? He was getting rusty.

“Hey.” He opened his eyes and that was a mistake. His head was killing him and the light wasn’t helping.

A hand dropped to his forehead. Her fingers were cool from being outside and it was instantly soothing.

“Holy shit,” she groaned. “You’re burning up. What are you even doing out of bed?”

“Oh,” he considered his morning. “Yeah, that makes sense. I made lunch.”

“You want to eat it?” She challenged.

The idea was not particularly appealing now that she mentioned it. “No.”

“Go take off your pants and get back into bed,” she ordered. He lifted his eyebrows. “Absolutely the fuck not. You’d pass out in the middle.”

“Never,” he contended, but bed sounded fucking amazing as it happened, so he got to his feet and made his way there. He could hear her banging around through the house, but gave up figuring out what she was doing in favor of shedding his clothes. Then getting into the bed very fast because he was also freezing.

It was too early for a nap, but he drifted anyway. Eddy came in and prodded him in the ribs. “Open up.”

A thermometer was stuck unceremoniously into his mouth. It beeped after a few seconds.

“Bad?” Izzy hazarded a guess when Eddy didn’t say anything.

“Is a 102 good?” Eddy asked skeptically.

“No,” Izzy snorted. “Definitely the fucking flu. Told you Olga got it and we drove together the other day. Probably gave it to me before she took sick leave.”

“So what do we do?” Eddy set the thermometer down on the side table.

“Nothing. I’ll drink liquids, watch day time tv, take some decongestant if I need to. It’ll go on its own.” He waved it away. “You should go stay with Bonnet or you’ll get it too.”

“Wow,” Eddy sat down beside him. “Nice. Really nice, Iz.”

“What?”

“In sickness and health, you fucking martyr. Pretty sure it goes two ways.”

“You smoked for way longer, this shit gets in your lungs, it'll be a fight against pneumonia,” he protested.

“Great, you can worry over that when it’s my turn. For now, I’m not actually going to leave you here to manfully die alone. Fuck.”

He reached out and found their hand. They let him tug at it and then with a huff amusement, let him drop it on his forehead. Their fingers were cool anymore, but it still felt good.

“Fine.” He mumbled around their thumb. Then after a second’s thought, he nipped at it.

“I’m going to sell you to a sideshow,” she declared, flicking his nose gently then retreating. “You are such a little freak.”

“Good luck getting full price when I’m not in mint condition.”

“You want anything?”

“Water. Advil. Box of tissues.”

“Anything else?”

“Nah.”

Eddy deposited all the requested items. He sat up enough to take the pill and get down some of the water before he started coughing again. The creeping grossness was finally full upon him, head full of cotton and face full of snot. Great. It wasn’t a graceful landing back on the mattress.

“Here,” Eddy shoved his phone in his hand. “Text me if you get worse. I’m going to eat something. And not whatever fun special lunch you coughed in for me.”

That was probably a good call. He rolled over and shivered himself to sleep.

When he woke up again, he was warm. Eddy was definitely in bed with him, her feet pressed to his calves. He turned over, muffling the resulting cough in his elbow. She was sitting against the headboard, laptop on a pillow as she watched something with a lot of color on the screen.

“What’s that?” He asked blearily.

“It’s a comedy thing that Roach got me into. British. Comedians trying to do weird tasks in funny ways.”

Izzy sneezed into his elbow, grabbed a tissue and blew for what felt like a year, then sagged back against the headboard.

“This is a real look,” Eddy eyed him speculatively. “Could enter you in a zombie shambling contest.”

“Do they have those?” He asked groggily.

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing. C’mere.”

Izzy wasn’t going to resist that. It took a little doing, but he wound up with his head on her chest, and her arm wrapped around him. The show didn’t make a lot of sense, but some of it was funny enough to get a laugh out of him. Eddy idly tugged at the ends of his hair.

Eventually he felt something in the neighborhood of hunger for the first time that day and started to get up.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“Gonna eat something.”

“Yeah, okay what?”

“Toast?”

“Fine.” She set the laptop down. “Don’t suppose you’d eat it in bed?”

“Fuck no,” he got his feet under him. Crumbs in the sheets gave him a particular horror. He had a full on screaming match with them over it once. It was one of the few times they hadn’t been able to make him back down and it had become a bit of a symbolic battle ground. He didn’t care if he was half-dead, he was not opening the door to them feasting on literal crackers in their literal bed again. Because he would kick them out, charming saying or not.

When they got to the kitchen, Eddy pushed him toward a chair and he couldn’t really do much more than collapse into it like wet tissue. Everything ached.

“What time is it?” He frowned at the window. It looked darker than it should.

“Seven.” They stuck two slices of bread in the toaster.

“Ugh,” he decided and dropped his head into his hands. “Someone put fiberglass in my brain.”

“Arguably they did that a long time ago,” she said untroubled. “What do you want on it?”

“Got any of that lime-raspberry stuff left?”

They had a truly epic collection of jams these days and it took Eddy some perusing to find the right one.

“This one?”

“Yeah. You have a good weekend?” He asked.

“Learned how to stone fabric,” she said happily. “I’m going to look like a fucking disco ball.”

“Which one is this again?”

“Purple thing. It’s new, you haven’t seen it yet. You’ll like it,” she smirked. “It’s sleeveless.”

He really did like when their shoulders were exposed.

She put too much jam on the toast, but he could probably use the extra calories after a day of just coffee. While he ate, she thumbed through something on her phone. His plate clattered into the sink when he finished and then she herded him back into their bed.

“I’m going for a walk before it gets too dark,” she declared and then handed him his phone again. It was ringing for some reason. “Enjoy.”

“What?” He watched her go.

“Hey, Iz,” Lucius said from the phone. Izzy stared at it then put it to his ear.

“Hey. Sorry.”

“What for?”

“Eddy dialed you, didn’t know if you were in the middle of something.”

“Why did- you sound like shit. What’s wrong?”

“Just the flu, I think. Got a bit of a fever.”

“What’s a bit?” Lucius pressed.

“Not sure, actually.” He fumbled for the thermometer. It was under a growing pile of tissues. He popped it under his tongue then checked it. “101.”

“Yeah that’s a bit,” Lucius was definitely rolling his eyes. “You taking care of yourself?”

Izzy blinked, “No. Uh. Eddy is.”

“Oh. What’s that like?”

He thought about her messing with his hair and making him toast. It was rough in a way, he supposed. She wasn’t the type to dote. But it was a kindness that they couldn’t have afforded him even three years ago. Maybe not even a year ago. He definitely wouldn’t have been able to accept it then either.

“Good,” he said softly. “I like it.”

“Aw, Iz,” Lucius’ voice softened. “Cute.”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled. “My brain is cooking.”

“Why’d they dial my number?” Lucius wondered.

“Went for a walk. Probably wanted to make sure I didn’t try to do anything dumb.”

“Like what?”

Izzy huffed a laugh. “Might be remembering when I tried to work on my bike when I had a concussion.”

“Sounds sensible. How’d you even get a concussion?”

“Got hit by a car, apparently.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. I don’t actually remember it.”

Lucius squawked about that for awhile, then changed the subject entirely, rambling on about something Izzy wasn’t really up to following. It was nice to just hear his voice anyway. By the time they said good night, the front door had opened and closed. Izzy tracked her movements through the house. Kitchen, cabinets. Microwave. Late dinner then. Pacing and talking while they ate. That was Bonnet, most likely. They talked almost every night even if it was only to say good night.

Then up the stairs, into the bathroom. Sink running for tooth brushing and the careful skin regime that Izzy could admit did something if not something worth the amount spent on it. Down the stairs again, probably for something they forgot because they came right back up. Hall light flickered out, bedroom door opened. Closet door opened. Shuffling off of the day’s clothes. Closet light off and then the bed dipping down.

“Still alive?” They checked.

“Mostly.” He agreed.

He dozed again while she messed around on her phone.

“Hey, how hard is to make that soup you do when I have a cold?”

“Easy,” Izzy yawned into her ribs. “Just saute garlic, ginger and onions then throw in a can of Campbells.”

“That shit is from a can?” Eddy asked incredulously. “All this time, I’m thinking you’re doing from scratch Susie Homemaker stuff and it’s from a can?”

“I used to do homemade and you told me it didn’t taste right,” he said amused. “I figured you liked the metal aftertaste.”

“Fucking con artist,” Eddy determined. “Why the ginger and shit then?”

“S’good for you,” he yawned. “And it smells good even if you’re stuffed up.”

She put her hand between his shoulder blades, digging her fingers in until he groaned. It felt fucking amazing.

“Stede says you feed a cold, starve a fever, but being hungry fucking blows.”

“That’s not about food anyway,” Izzy muttered. “It’s about temperature and it’s wrong. Don’t make me soup.”

“You can’t fucking stop me right now, can you?”

“Eddy,” he tried to say reasonably, but it came out more as a whine. “Don’t burn my fucking pans.”

“I’ll do what needs to be done and you’ll fucking shut up about it, plague rat.”

He shut up about it, but he did it with a smile and fell asleep feeling like dog shit and also pretty fucking great.

#leda house and the kraken verse #you're awful i love you

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goblinshork · 3 years

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Ok so what abaut Bodyguard and Agony whith a a naga prince that just hates the royal life and dreams of just having a simple life living in a cottage and selling homemade jewelry, so Reader his childhood best friend, personal bodyguard and person who he feel in love whith decides to make his dream come true (bonus if the prince has a sister so the kingdown whont stay whiout a ruler and she helps Reader whith the plan, bonus+ if the prince is kinda huge and scary to other people but he is just a chill dude that likes to make rings and necklaces)

Short scenario please! (Also sorry if its too long, feel free to just ignore this if you whant)

Not too long at all and I think it's an extremely charming idea! Thank you for sharing; big gruff, undercover sweeties are one of the most Choice(tm) archetypes.

This also got super long, but the vibes were singing to me.

Features: Slight angst, happy ending, kissing

Bodyguard + Agony (Monster Ask Meme)

Hands, Touching Hands (m!Naga x gn!Reader) [3.7k]

“Don’t lie, how many names do you remember?”

Alok yawned, curved fangs peaking out from almost-lips.

“None, thankfully,” he said, scratching at his curls, cut short enough that they barely formed.

“Impressive.”

“Oh—no, you won’t distract me. You agree with me don’t you?”

The book Alok had toyed the entire briefing slammed shut, the many bracelets at his wrist clinking for emphasis when you did not answer.

Watching him unfurl his tense length of tail, broad shoulders rising far above you as he 'stood', there was little to say but, "It’s not my place."

"Then it’s not mine, either."

He slunk toward the door and you picked up the book--the monstrous thing--with your arms rather than your hands before following him.

"Just give it time," you said in a reassurance that was too shallow to drown his mood.

Every move forward looked painful as he slithered forward like a child first learning to move against stone rather than soft grass. Unlike when he was a child, he was stilted by frustration rather than inexperience.

The conversation was left dropped, burning like the weight of the tome in your arms. If you were alone, you'd tell him to carry it. But servants, nobles, and royals passed frequently, all low bows and murmurs, moving on a touch quicker than polite.

When you first arrived to the kingdom, a slave dressed sweetly and presented as a gift, you'd marveled at how anyone could find the royal family intimidating when removed from their wealth and status.

Baby yellow skin and soft pink dapples painted everyone of them. Alok, himself, was more pink than yellow, and it reminded you of those delicate, painted dolls you'd press your face against glass to get a closer look at before being shooed away by the shop-keep.

You supposed little had changed since then, except now you were simply stared at, expected to keep your fingers off the pretty pink glass always, always in front of you.

The hallway Alok stopped moving forward in was empty, private; his. Without a word, you tossed the horrible book toward his crossed arms and swept the windows, floors, and ceiling for anything strange. His fumbling for the book, fingers audibly skimming against pages, made you smile.

"It's clear," you nodded. "Workshop, right?"

Alok deflated a bit, too caught between the mention of his workshop and pretending to have perfectly caught the book to keep his anger stoked.

"You're asking now," he said flat, looking from the book to you.

Putting up your hands in mock defeat, you turned, alert enough.

"I'm not angry at you.” The slits that served for his pupils, deep red and small in their focus on the gem he was cutting, turned to you when you said nothing in response.

“Sorry, I--” was dazzled by your eyes? Was enamored by how passionate you are for perfecting that sparkling little gem? “I know.”

“I just wanted to say it.”

You stretched from your place beside the door, perched on one of the few chairs at your disposal in the entire castle, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be patronizing,” Alok grumbled, pausing in his work. “I know...I know very well you must be tired of this, even if you won’t say it.”

The window was suddenly so interesting, your throat burning as you swallowed down the feeling kindling there.

“This is my home,” you said after hearing the scales of his tail shift closer. “There’s nothing to be tired of.”

Slowly, his hand rose to hover over yours, where it lay on your lap, “But you should be. I’d give you anything you needed. They couldn’t stop me.”

Everything you wanted to say was tucked in the patch of air that separated his touch from yours.

Any person, bought and raised to be singularly loyal would hesitate at the offer of freedom, wouldn’t they?

They’d want to grab his hand, wouldn’t they?

You could only guess as a love for a prince was not something to be said aloud unless you were allowed.

And you, a slave turned body guard, were not.

Standing, you scattered the almost-moment with a shake of your head, “I don’t care about freedom half as much as you think I do.”

His hand fell limp to his side, the slits that served as his nose flaring wide, as you continued.

“I’m your bodyguard and I’ll be your children’s bodyguard and I’ll be the same to whoever you choose from that book,” you finished, thoroughly shooing yourself away, wanting so much to run out the door.

Alok said your name quietly, but you remained silent.

And everything was still until it wasn’t.

In one smooth motion propelled by his sheer size, Alok stretched to the book and hurled it out the open window.

“No, you won’t. I’ll be their prince,” he said low, body suddenly too large for the room. “But I won’t be their king.”

You did run, then.

Perhaps the only place off-limits for a would-be king allergic to potential suitors was his sister’s drawing room.

Adur payed you no attention as she demanded entertainment from the brightly colored darlings and dark patterned beauties of the upper echelon.

“Did you know, I simply adore the pattern of your bangles lately,” she cooed, pointing to a decorated tail. “So perfectly in style.”

She continued on, picking this and that to sigh over, as you stood against the corner that provided the best view of the room, next to the door.

You recognized each piece she fawned over as being similar to something Alok had on display or nearly-done in his workshop. Ah, to know a magician’s tricks.

Melting into a squat, you let their voices wash over you. No heart could hurt for long listening to women enjoy court gossip as much as this bunch did...from a distance.

When you, Alok, and Adur were younger, the rules seemed less stone and more like blades of grass, flexible and beneath you. Adur set you in front of her always revolving group of friends and tried to fit tail bangles around your thighs and waist. Alok insisted you sit side-by-side while studying geography, arithmetic, and etiquette. You lay between them on sunny afternoons, napping, legs touching tails.

But everything golden goes grey eventually.

“Well, do tell me. Did he throw it in the fire?”

You turned from the window, swapping red, setting sun for sharp, red eyes, “Out of the window.”

The room was empty but for you and her now. Adur pacing around, tail making quick work of circling the room as she read from her collection of letters.

“Still the amount of melodrama I expected so,” she shrugged, raising shoulders toward her pleased mouth as a silent finish to her sentence. “I, on the other hand, did pick.”

You rose, legs tingling from the sudden change. “Who?”

“Prince Talsa,” she said after cutting open a letter with her claw, “I’ve already decided on a short engagement and a respectable wedding down south. Perhaps closer to his kingdom than ours.”

“Talsa? Not rare one who everyone’s after?”

Adur looked at you as though you should know better before deigning to explain, “Prince Talsa is rather plain looking for a naga, yes, but that’s just the point.”

“Go on,” you said, wanting so much to be distracted.

“Think about it,” Adur scoffed. “Rare, beautiful babies create wonder amongst people, but children who look as though they could be born anywhere....don’t you see the appeal?”

She leaned against the window, long black hair obscuring her pink and yellow face, “They would be royalty that even the most common of folk could feel familiar to--feel endeared to. Even someone as devoid of charm or pretense as Alok could gain some favor. From their birth, I’ll have them attend every little festival and celebration. Their bond with the people will be unshakable.”

“You’ll make the best queen,” you said, unthinking to the implication.

“Has something happened to Alok?”

“No, you ju--”

Adur turned to you, delicate face empty, “It doesn’t matter what we know. He’s the eldest and alive and destroying a book won’t change that.”

Your hands shook as you laced them together, risking at least your life, by asking:

“What if we could change it?”

Everything in the little room lacked splendor, save the jewelry that her brother displayed to no one but himself, built only to separate Alok from his mentor. A failed attempt to elevate a man too gargantuan to grow further.

Even the flooring was rough on the tail, not smooth stone but brick for retaining heat. Only care for function within these four walls.

Adur noted her brother’s tail was bare as she swept over the lacking room, only his leather work belt draped over the apex where tail met torso. Every bit of jewelry he wore crowded his wrists and fingers, noisy as he worked on some large bangle unfamiliar to her.

He looked haggard, frown too ugly and deep to be a mere product of concentration. Grey tickled the roots of his bangs, pronounced enough to shine in the lamplight. Alok was getting too old to be a prince with only time for his hobby.

“Sometimes I think it would be kinder to simply put you out of your misery,” Adur said, closing the door behind her.

Alok’s back tensed, but he did not pause his work, “I’m surprised you said it out loud, but don’t say it like a joke.”

“Don’t be so serious,” Adur sighed, “of course it was a joke.”

“Where is--”

“Your human delight? Running errands for me.”

Alok did turn then, face flickering through emotions too fast to name, “They’re just as much your dear friend as mine, you little viper.”

“Forgive my callousness, but I find you respond to little else,” Adur said, picking at the sheer fabric of her top so it draped correctly against her arm again. “And perhaps they are my friend. But they are not just yours.”

“I won’t be king...even if they weren’t here.”

Adur laughed in a sizzling tone, forked tongue dancing with humor, “Oh? And I suppose your little fantasies of running away involve you doing so alone?”

Only the flames licking back and forth in the small forge answered her.

“You’re too old to be deluding yourself like this,” she went on, dropping a bottle and a sheer robe on Alok’s work desk. “It’s time to make choices once and for all, brother.”

“I’m not--”

“I’m not asking you to rule. You’d be pathetic at it, yes, I know. If not for our dear human friend, you’d have flunked every tutor save for your precious jewelry maker.”

Alok curled back over his tail, fingers picking at the fabric of the robe his sister had dropped. “Then what are you asking?”

Hand on the doorknob, Adur smiled, “if you had your way and left to live like a common man with your human, would you really never come back?”

“Never.”

Adur opened the door. “Good.”

The drider--Woodnet? Woodne? Wodner?--stayed near the the door as you did, but unlike you his sleek, black legs rested on a few thin lines of webbing where wall met ceiling.

Slowly, Alok raised his face to address the bodyguard, entirely unused to being the short one. Worse still was the struggle to match sights with the correct pair of the drider’s many blinking eyes. If you were here, you’d have nudged him to follow your lead already.

If you were here...this wouldn’t be happening in the first place. Just another wishful thought to swallow down as Alok struggled to stay polite in the face of his father’s prime bodyguard.

“Outside the room is fine,” Alok said in a clipped tone, turning as he did to avoid dealing with anymore niceties.

“Forgive me for questioning, Prince Alok,” the drider said, voice drifting down like floating silk. “But bathing is when you are most vulnerable. I can not help but object to the risk.”

The drider polished each word, in no hurry to finish his sentence and Alok’s eyes rolled once--twice--thrice by the time there was silence. If only this were any guard other than his father’s favorite.

“I understand,” Alok said. “But, the windows are trapped and you will be guarding the only entrance.”

The sound of burdened legs skittering down stone, followed by the opening and closing of the lone, stone door was his answer.

Driders were generally no longer friends of Alok’s kingdom. Wodnel....no, Wodni perhaps, was a relic of a time long gone, when his father was just proving himself a leader of a nation. That Wodnir--that was it, Wodnir--was so protective of Alok, having sparsely been involved with him and having been enslaved through ruthless, warmongering means made Alok’s shoulders bunch, the muscles between protruding over scales.

Is that how it was between you and he? Did you feign fondness and care or was it true? Was it true but maligned of him to hope for it due to how you came to be near him? Because of he was?

Alok disrobed and slunk into the hot water, hoping to drown his pithy doubts that crowded so large in his mind.

Flakes of shed rose to the top the longer he soaked, proof of a difficult shed. There was sure to be more bits to come as he scrubbed himself with the, apparently, ‘to die for’ body scrub his sister had left last week.

You were usually the one to soothe his bubbling stress in a life of constant politics and decorum, but the bits of dead skin were proof enough that Alok truly was getting too old for delusions. You’d only been away for a week and a spare number of days and here he was, so tense that not even a hot bath could unfurl him.

Ugh.

Politics and decorum. How would he survive tonight without you? Adur was announcing her engagement tonight, in tandem with the nobles emerging from their collective sheds at the tail end of the Harvest Festival.

Alok scrubbed himself raw, hoping to emerge a new man who could weather life half as well as everyone around him. But the harder he lathed himself in soap, the clearer the truth rang.

If only he could have you.

You had relieved Wodnier of his duties, thanking him with a bow, and standing stiff beside the door for precious minutes, waiting for his delicate range of hearing to wane.

As an apprentice, you had met Wodnier often enough to know he wished you well as much as any spider did a fly.

Hammering against your chest, you feared the vibration of your heart was loud enough for him to hear. And there was always a chance the door shutting at the end of the curved hallway was a trap; that Wodnier still stood in Alok’s quarters and was not making his way back to the King.

But you didn’t have time to be safe, only quick.

Jittered by adrenaline, you sprinted to Alok’s room---toe first, heel last--and back, holding your breath once you made it back to the door of the bath.

Sweat pooled against your forehead, but nothing sprang toward you sans the faint sounds of Alok bathing.

You slipped past the door, the pack in your hands bulky enough that the door opened wider than you’d wanted, the hinge creaking.

“Alok?”

The figure behind the curtain froze before calling back your name.

“We don’t have much time, Alok,” you pressed in a sure voice, but your legs wobbled as you neared the curtain. “I’m....I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

“What?”

Coming past the curtain, your chest could barely contain your quick breathing. His hair was devoid of any gray, blacker than pitch as it fell just above his ear holes and forehead. Muddy brown and maroon scales were sleek and wet, droplets rolling down his body, even near his---

You looked back up quickly, away from where his belt always covered. “I mean, I want us to run away and we need to go now.”

Having followed your wandering gaze toward the apex of his stomach and tail, Alok frantically looked toward his arms, the muddy water, “What in the fuck is this?”

“Adur is helping us,” is all you said and it was all Alok seemed to need as he picked up the bottle the dye had been in, nodding. “She said it’ll only last until your next shed but, by then, hopefully....”

“She wants to be queen very much,” he murmured.

You tore open the pack, reminding yourself that time was short, and held them out. “Yes. So, we need to go.”

“You have no idea--,” Alok started, before interrupting himself. “I need something from the workshop.”

“We don’t have time.”

He shook his head as he took what you offered, dressing himself in plain leather and thick, scratchy wool. “It will be quick.”

You opened your mouth--- “Please.” --but couldn’t keep firm in the face of his pleading.

“Okay.”

Alok threw a few rings, bangles, and tools into the bag.

“Only enough to sell and get started again,” he assured.

But as you turned to leave the room, his hand was on your arm, pulling you back.

“We--”

“I love you,” he breathed, holding two thick, ornate bangles in his free hand. Both were decorated, from the side you could see, with marigolds, jewels gleaming in the center of their petals. You recognized each one.

One was the size to fit a large tail while the other...

“Alok.”

“I want us to leave belonging to one another.”

Your shaking hands dropped the large bag and his slid to hold both yours in his large one. “If we leave together, we’ll live together too won’t we?”

Even your head shook now, from side to side, hoping to discern the moment as waking or dreaming. “Alok. Of course, because...Of course we will.”

“Oh, please say it,” he said, tugging you nearer still.

He repeated your name and like a spell, you found your words, “We’ll live together because I love you, too.”

His thin mouth, soft and bloodless, fell to yours from his full height, his body curling over you as he pressed against your lips again.

“Let me put it on you,” he whispered, mouth moving against yours as you clung to him.

“Hurry and then we can....Just the bangles and then we must go before it’s too late.”

Careful of his claws, he lifted you to sit on his work table before slipping his own bangle over the small tip of his tail and up further, until it stuck in place under his belt.

There was no time to remove your pants, to mold the bangle against your bare thigh as was intended, but Alok’s thick hands skimming around the metal the entire way up burned as though he were doing just that.

You slid off the table, when the bangle was snug, to melt against him for one brief moment of loving calm, your face rubbing against his neck.

You didn’t have time for more.

After disentangling from his tight hold, you threw the bag at him, near tears as he scrambled to catch it. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m so glad you’re going to be mine instead of a king.”

And then you ran, hand in hand.

“Hey! Heeeeey,” one of the children yelled as the whole group of five ran toward you, kicking up dust on the dirt-packed road. “My momma said that snake man eats kids who don’t do chores!”

“My papa said he can’t help with the festival because he’s growing more arms!”

“That’s dumb, Brittany. My papa is smarter and he said the same thing as Corey’s momma. He’s a kid eater!”

The group shrieked in delighted horror as they squabbled on the specifics of what was really, truly going on in their village.

You hiked the basket in your arms higher after several attempts to respond, loudly telling them to pay attention or you’d leave.

As though pulled forward by strings, they straightened as still as a child could, a few even holding their hands over their mouths to keep silent.

“All of your parents are right,” you nodded, “Every two months he must curb his huge appetite and force back his new, child-grabbing arms so he doesn’t hurt the very naughty children of this village.”

They all clamored to stress their innocence in a cacophony of babbling that soon grew into questions.

“Is that why you live with him? ‘Cause you protect the village?”

“And him,” you said.

“At the same time?!”

“Of course, it’s my job. Now go back toward the smithy before you find out just how many arms he has.”

Lunging forward in jest was enough to urge the children away, all of them teasing the other that they would be last to get there and a snake man’s lunch.

“You’re horrible,” Alok groaned, scales pale pink and yellow from a successful shed. “Soon, they’ll be grown-ups, running us off.”

Hefting the basket onto the dining table, you laughed, “they adore you in secret.”

The cottages here were baked of mud, hay, and a few supportive beams of wood and yours was no different. There was no splendor in the room-less house, but it was truly yours and his. And that was luxury enough.

“They had enough this time?”

You shook the canteen of dye, moving to stand next to him on the low hammock that served as bed, “And the next shipment of birch will contain enough to last us three months or more.”

Alok smoothed his claw down your face, his own expression wistful, “I feel too content to explain.”

You pressed your nose against the pink of his jaw, letting him raise you to straddle him.

“Then show me.”

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