#i have bigger problems but when its late and my brains getting empty i think too much about nothing

[fascinationstreetmp3]

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[bump1nthen1ght]

Late Night Favor (Shadow Monster x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Explicit content up ahead (18+ ONLY), Oral, Fingering

Word Count: 4000 Words

Summary: A couple of small good deeds leaves you with a late night visitor, looking to repay a debt.

Request: "You unknowingly rescue a shadow monster and bring it home with you, after a couple days of lurking in the shadows of your home and recuperating it shows you just how thankful it is." I had this idea forever ago but was never able to execute it. My opening idea was that a few kids are shining flashlights at something, tormenting it, and you swoop in to save it and chase the kids away. You thought they were hurting a cat or something, but find nothing and head home.

What do you think? Would you like to take it on? I'd be honored if you would 😊

A/N: *Throws this into the street to appease for the fact I haven’t updated Out of the Woods in THREE MONTHS IM SORRY*

It was the perfect weather for a lazy day inside. The pitter patter of the rain on your window had almost lulled you back to sleep during breakfast, and the thunder had provided great ambiance for reading. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajamas and we’re enjoying a soap opera binge on the coach when the peace was disturbed.

At first it was just the sound of clattering trash cans, not uncommon from the alley outside your window. But then it was followed by the raucous laughter of teenagers, rocks being thrown against the concrete, and a sharp hissing.

You hoist yourself up and off the couch, meandering toward the balcony, expecting to see a bunch of kids fucking around; Maybe using the cover of the fire escape to hide from the rain and smoke some weed.

Ah, memories.

But instead, you see a huddled group of boys pointing a flashlight into the pile of garbage right by the dumpster. One of them picks up a pebble and throws it into the light beam, causing another hiss and a jerk of movement. The boys laugh even louder, the one on the right nudging the one with the flashlight.

“Dude, do it again!”

Flashlight agrees, quickly moving the light into another corner as the one on the left throws a rock in the opposite direction. A shape of pitch black hisses again, deterred by the rock and scared by the brightness. Your brow furrows.

“Hey!”

The boys jump, looking in all directions.

“What are you three doing down there?” They finally look up at you, messy-haired and bleary-eyed. They shrug and ignore you, one even throwing another rock, bigger than before. There’s a sad yelp as it collides with the blackness.

You grit your teeth, grabbing your jacket off a nearby shelf and yell again.

“Fuck off! Leave the poor thing alone!”

They all laugh insufferably, the way most stuck up teenagers do.

“Or what?”

You shrug on your raincoat, picking up the baseball bat you keep strategically placed by your couch.

“Or I’ll come down and make you, jackass!”

You kick open your  fire escape, slippers already damp, and start marching down the staircases. The boys get the message and run away, still jeering and laughing. Seems you weren’t as intimidating as you’d like.

You shuffle down the fire escape, slowing down as you approach the poor creature. You lower your back and peak under the dumpster.

“It's okay, little guy, I won’t hurt ya.” You set down your bat and crouch, kissing your lips as you hold out your free hand. All you see is a hint of glowing eyes, nervously peering out, before the dark shape disappears completely, hidden by the shadow of the dumpster. You’re tempted to sit down and wait for it, hoping to check if the poor stray was injured, but the wet concrete looks unappealing. The bottom of your sweats are already drenched.

You stand up, sigh, and go back up the fire escape. You unlatch the dusty pet door on your sliding glass balcony and make sure to leave a hot thing of milk and some water just outside. You ponder going out to get cat food, but the well-timed weather report tells you to stay off the streets. Slumping back down on the couch, you keep on eye on your fire escape, hoping that whatever it was, it’s okay.

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

The next day is sunny, the rain clearing away any air pollution and leaving blue skies to shine down through your window, waking you up extra early. As you sit down with a cup of coffee, switching on the news before starting work, you notice the empty bowls on your balcony.

You set down the mug, walking over to the door and checking the bowls. Seems that little stray had needed the refreshment, as both were licked clean.

You refill them, making sure to add  cat food to your grocery list.

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

After a long day of work, you’re feeling particularly domestic and decide to bake some cookies. Your brain is sore after staring at a screen for eight hours straight, a simple task like this is the perfect thing to keep it from melting completely.

You open up your window, letting the cool night air into your kitchen as you check  on your baking cookies. Wiping flour off your pants, you turn on the radio and throw a glance to your living room.

You had set up a tiny blanket pallet right next to your pet door, the weatherman’s warning of another thunderstorm tonight having you worried for your stray. Hopefully a full belly of milk will convince them that your house is safe enough to find shelter in.

But the afternoon is beautiful, not too cold and not too hot, only the slight tang of metal in the air hinting to rain. With a ding from the oven, you take out the cookies and set them on a cooling tray on your window. The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafts over you as you take a sip of your tea, staring out into the city streets. Small puddles still speckle the pavement, catching the headlights of nearby cars and flashy billboards.

A quick sound, something hitting your balcony door, that jerks you out of your reverie. You set down your mug and slowly peek out from your kitchen, wondering if you should’ve grabbed  a kitchen knife. But it’s just your pet door, flapping back and forth in front of two, now empty, bowls. Aww, seems your stray took a step inside. Too bad you missed it.

The gurgle of your stomach convinces you to take a crack at the cookies. If they were too hot, you could just wash them down with a nice glass of milk anyway. Maybe even put on a sitcom while you snack.

You lightly tap the top cookie; Warm, but not unbearable. Steam rises as you break it open, blowing in the middle and taking a tiny bite.

Fuck, good job _____.

They’re perfectly done, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. You grab two more, holding them in between your fingers as you hold the other half in your mouth. Maybe you could bring the batch into work tomorrow, give your coworkers a nice surprise. That is if you didn't have 10 tonight. But 20 should be just enough-

Huh, that’s weird. There's only 19, including the one still dangling out of your mouth.

You could’ve sworn you baked 20.

Well whatever. Your coworkers can handle not coming back for seconds tomorrow.

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

“Ow! Fuck!”

You bite your lip, trying not to yell out more curse words as you rub your stubbed toe. You limp to your kitchen, fumbling for the light switch to avoid another incident. All you had wanted was a midnight sweet snack, was that so difficult? You’d thought you could navigate your apartment pretty easily in the dark, but the pain in your foot says otherwise.

The light flickers as you finally find the switch, reminding you that you’re going to need to change the bulb sometime soon. But that's a problem for another day; Right now, it’s cookie time.

You don’t bother pouring yourself a glass or getting a plate, devouring the treat in three bites and throwing back a quick swig of milk. It’s almost midnight, not like anyone’s watching-

Oh, wait.

You slowly close the fridge door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the little stray curled up, asleep. The little ball of black was snuggled into the pallet, tossing and turning. A flash of lightning cracks outside your apartment, washing your living room with light. The ball jerks in shock, the thunder afterwards only frightening it more, forcing it to curl up even tighter.  

You take small and light steps towards the tiny bed, not wanting to approach the scared beast too quickly. The room is lit up again by another lightning strike and the little stray forces it’s body backwards and away from the window. You crouch down real low, the small bits of light helping your eyes adjust to the layout.

“How are you doing, little guy?” You whisper, mostly to yourself, tapping your fingers against your carpet. Part of you wants to pet it, but think it might be better not to. No need to startle it. “Is the lightning scary? You can come to my room if you want, I’ll protect ya.”

Midst the black, you see two little eyes, little blips of light that open with another flash of lightning. But they aren’t yellow, nor are they slitted, nor are they anything remotely animal.

They're like the headlights of a car, blinding white with no definition at all. Not even pupils. You're startled, eye’s widening as the creature lifts it’s head. A long smile runs across their face, full of razor sharp teeth.

“Oh my, that sounds delightful.” They purr, and you find yourself losing your footing and falling back on your ass. Your fingers dig into the carpet as their body slowly begins to unfurl out of a ball and stretch into a massive form, as if their whole size had been hidden away somewhere else; Like it had been literally in the shadows.

You scramble backwards, breath picking up as the creature stretches it’s long limbs, colorless eyes still locked onto you as it stands up and up. It rolls back its shoulders as it sits on its haunches, its form still towering over you even when crouched. You notice the shades of huge antlers sticking out from the side of their head, only adding to their intimidating height.

The creature still has that terrifying smile, all canines and no molars, it’s unblinking eyes still staring deep into your soul.

You’ve heard people do weird things in times of high stress, of strong emotions, good and bad. Like the wires in your brains get crossed when trying to find the right response.

“Uh, do you want a cookie?”

You think you get that now.

The creature chuckles, a soft timbre that echoes unnaturally.

“No, dearie, I have already indulged in your confections. You see,” They creature leans forward, falling to its knees to crawl towards you. If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear constricting your heart, you’d almost think it was seductive, “You’ve done so much for me these past days, I think it’d be only fair if I helped you indulge in a far-” The creature’s face looms over yours, their arms caging your sides as they lick their lips, “-sweeter treat, yes?”

Your eyes search their face, trying to find signs of trickery or malice, maybe even some demonic sense of humor.

As if I’d even know what that looks like.

“Are you-” You catch a breath, now noticing the fine musculature of their shoulders, and the definition of their arms, “Are you propositioning me, like, for sex?”

The creature laughs again, their eyes crinkling up as they throw their head back. But when they look back down at you, you can almost feel the lust radiating off their gaze, details be damned.

“Yes, lovely, I am.”

You take your eyes off their face, a little too overwhelmed to stare directly into their blistering expression. Not to mention the blinding light which has begun to put red spots into your vision.

Instead, your eyes fall upon their thick thighs, the small tail waving behind them, and how unnervingly sexy you find the way their claws are digging up your rug.

You slowly move your head, catching the creature’s eyes.

“I-uh-I guess? Yeah, yeah I guess that sounds good. Um, what was your name?”

The creature smirks, a single claw tipped finger tilting up your chin, as they whisper,

“Nocter.”

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

Well, this is definitely the weirdest way I’ve gotten someone into bed.

Nocter’s antlers brush against your stucco-ceiling as it pushes you down on the bed, their shining white eyes staring deep into yours. Their lack of pupils is almost unsettling, but when they run their claws down your chest and pinch your nipples, you find it hard to care. You bite your lip, fighting back an embarrassing whimper as they trace one finger around the bud, pebbling the skin.

“Aww, has it been a while, sweetling?” You roll your eyes, but let out another squeak as they flick their thumb across your other nipple, the palm of their hand pressing against your ribcage.

“M-maybe.” You mutter, digging your finger into your bed sheets as their hands dance across your skin. One pulls up the bottom of your pajama shirt as it nudges one of their legs in between your thighs, pushing their knee up against your crotch.

“Don’t worry,” They push the fabric up to your neck, laying a kiss on the center of your stomach, then your chest, and then your jugular. When they plant one on your jaw, they lean in real close, “I’ll make sure to treat you right.”

Nocter’s long tongue splays against your jaw, licking a stripe up your cheek as one of their hands moves from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. They slip a couple fingers underneath, lightly petting the area right above your crotch. They’re such a tease, and you love it.

Nocter pecks the side of your face, over and over, while their hand moves further and further down your body at an agonizing pace. Their hot breath sends goosebumps down your neck, washing over your face as they exhale with every kiss. You catch them off guard when you turn your head toward them, catching their lips-mid peck and eagerly sticking your tongue outward. They purr with delight, their thin almost-lips quickly devouring you.

A long string of saliva connects the two of you as you detach, taking the time to shimmy out of your shirt. You pull them closer, your hands digging into their shoulder muscles and fingers just brushing over the long ridges on their back. They chuckle once again, pulling their fingers out your shorts and merely digging their palm into the fabric of your crotch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” You mumble in between kisses, “This is for me, isn’t it?”

“Ohoho,” kiss, “Someone’s showing their feisty side a little early.” kiss, “What happened to my benevolent, saintly saviour?” kiss.

You pull away from their lips, quickly latching onto the crux of their neck and taking a nip. “S’not fair.” You say, taking a deep whiff of their skin as you suck and bite. They smell like brimstone and a bonfire, not quite what you 're expecting, but not unpleasant. “You can’t tease me like that and not-” Your cut off as the pad of one Nocters fingers presses up against your entrance, the fabric only amplifying the sensation as they begin to tease it.

“Deliver?” Nocter finishes, sinfully smug. You throw them a glare. “I’m a good guest, scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes right before they lock you into another kiss, rubbing the pads of their fingers up and down your crotch. They use their hand to push you backwards, sinking deeper into the mattress as they situate their knees under your thighs. One they pull back from the kiss, your face and lips thoroughly debauched, your legs are splayed up on their pelvis and they easily slip off your bottoms. Nocter takes a whiff of your underwear, the crotch now slightly damp, giving you a wink before they throw it over their shoulder.

You jerk your hips slightly upward, and Nocter tuts.

“Patience, sweetling.” They roll a hand down your abdomen, fingers splaying onto your stomach, nails just teasing the skin. With a kiss to your inside calf, Nocters hand ghosts across your entrance. You can’t help biting your lip, the heat and their touch sending your mind into a frenzy.

They continue a path of kisses down your leg, now pressing their finger right up against your hole. They only pause to suck on their index and middle fingers, coating them with a heavy and blue-tinted saliva. Once they’ve reached the middle of your thigh, nipping at the apex, they sink into you.

Nocter’s fingers are long, articulated and move with sure movements. They start off slow, scissoring you open, simpering as you dig your nails into your bed sheets. The pads of their fingers push against your walls, just grazing sensitive spots as they make a slow ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips jerk forward, humping into their palm. They smirk against your skin, nipping another love bite as they retract their fingers until only the tip remains. You catch your breath, holding it until they sink back into you, shoving their fingers forward with far more force.

You whimper as their fingers pull back, only to follow with quicker thrusts. Nocter’s aim is pin-point in finding the most pleasurable spots inside you, the feeling only amplified by the pinpricks of their teeth into the fat of your thigh. The tip of their tongue licks hot trails of spit tantalizingly close to your hole, which clenches around their bony fingers. The slick sound of your juices, the skin of their palm slapping against yours, is downright pornographic.

Your legs try to clamp around their shoulders, the overwhelming stimuli triggering an instant reaction, but Nocter pins your right leg down to your bed easily, never losing focus on fingering you. The tips of their claws trace the inside of your leg, the hard edge of their wrist digging into fat.  Your fingers reach to grip around something, anything to keep you grounded as the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. They find their way around Nocter’s left wrist; You’re almost afraid you’ll leave bruises, before remembering how sturdy every part of their body seems to be.

You let out a whimper as the crests of an orgasm seem to overwhelm you, nearly gasping as Nocter quickly removes their fingers. In any other state of mind you might have made a comment, look down and wonder why they’ve stopped. But the heat in your belly compels you to grip their wrist tight and to throw your hips upwards. With a desperate breath, you plead,

“P-please! Please, don’t stop.”

Nocter doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t make a sly remark about your neediness or your lewd movements. They lean forward, giving another kiss right below your navel, and pet your wrist.

“Of course, dearie.”

With a wink, they lean down a lick a long stripe up your hole, giving one last kiss to your leg before plunging their tongue inside.

You didn’t think it was possible for them to reach even deeper inside you with their tongue than their fingers, but the sparks which fly in your core say otherwise. The ridges of Nocters tongue brush against your walls as they flick the appendage back and forth, the tip pressing forward with controlled motions. It doesn’t thrash back and forward haphazardly, but reaches for those sensitive spots and plays with them.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You yelp, feeling an icy-cold liquid run down your ass. From the sound of smacking lips and muffled moans, it must be Nocter’s saliva. They let out a groan, pushing their jaw forward as their eyes clenched shut. The hand on your leg pinches skin as it tightens up, the other pressing your hips down, but the pressure they apply is phantom at best. Nocter seems to revel in your pleading humps for more, meeting each movement with a thrust of their jaw, the base of their tongue stretching you open.

The two of you keep that rhythm for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a couple of minutes. Sweat drips down your chest and off of your belly, your legs muscles on fire as you continue to push upward and into Nocter’s face. You start feeling that impending wave begin to crest again, with your limbs shaking and your throat hoarse.

“Nocter, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-I’m so close!”

This time, Nocter doesn’t let up on their pace, reaching one hand down to deliver a hard slap on your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. Your speech devolves into slurred curses and your hands move to touch them, to find some grasp in reality. Nocter continues to suck and tongue-fuck your hole as your thighs clench around their head. Your humps are tiny and weak, your lower half barely holding itself up.

The knot gets tighter, a firecracker fuse about to blow in your abdomen. In the heat of the moment, your hands find their way to Nocter’s scalp and grab onto the base of their antlers. Their moan rumbles through you, right before you yank their head forward, their tongue hitting the deepest part of you as you shutter and-

“I’m cumming!”

Another moan vibrates against your hole as your body shudders and jolts, your hips still pressed firmly against Nocter’s face. But in the next moment, a heavy weight falls over your body, slumping you down onto the bed. Your chest heaves, eye’s fuzzy as Nocter’s tongue ‘pop’s out of you.

Your gaze wanders over your stucco ceiling, droplets of sweat rolling down your neck as you try and catch your breath. You can feel Nocter’s large hands rolling a massage into your thighs, their own heavy breathing brushing over your crotch.

A fuzzy shape of pure black comes into your vision as Nocter hovers over you, their body hovering just an inch above yours. They give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Feel good?” They whisper.

All you can do is nod, your shaky hands wandering over their back. There’s no sign of sweat on their skin, but you can feel the heat running off of it as they nuzzle into your neck.

As your fingers dance over the ride of their back, you can hear the rumble of a low purr coming from their chest, but they stay hovering over your body. You press your hands into their back, applying weak pressure to encourage them to relax.

“It seems I’ve repaid my debt.” Nocter murmurs into your ear, pushing themselves up onto their hands, pulling even farther from you as their eye’s look around your room. You keep your hands wrapped around their waist, stopping them from fully getting up. They look back to you, white eyes slightly widening.

“Would you-” You take another deep breath, “Want to stay? For the night?”

Nocter stares at you, the black void of their face almost unreadable. But when they run a claw down the side of your face, it burns with affection and longing.

“Would you want that?”

Your room is nearly pitch black, only the lights of the street peeking in between your curtains. Nocter’s body seems to absorb all light near it, their hot body like a heating pad. But their eyes are so bright, so full, so mesmerizing; Like a full moon on the dark city sky.

“Yes, I would.”

Nocter’s nods, their expression barely changing, but you think you can see a hint of a smile amidst all the black. They let their body relax, pressing their chest against yours as they sink into the sheets and nuzzle back into your neck.

You can smell the sweat coating your body and feel the way you stick to the sheets. Frankly, the both of you kind of smell.

But it doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Nocter’s body, eye’s heavy as you peacefully fall into sleep.

[plussizeficchick]

Can you please make me another kyoya story? where he finds out the same girl that she's hardly eating anymore because of a comment karou said? i know its a dark topic but it would mean alot. i absolutely loved the first story. Its amazing and perfect thank you for writing it for me.

OMG! So glad you liked it! Keep the ideas coming! :)

Better Days │Kyoya Ootori X Plus Size! Reader

Warning: unhealthy eating habits (I think that's it)

“(Y/N), are you sure you want a slice of cake? You look like you could lose a few.” Lose a few? You’ve always been bigger, thicker than most. Why was it a problem now? And if Karou thought you looked big, what does Kyoya think?

Zoning back in, you answer his question. “Ah,no. I, I think I’m fine.” “Are you sure (Y/N)-chan? Usa-chan doesn’t mind sharing.” Honey says. “I’m sure Honey. Why don’t you eat enough for you and I both?” You smile. “Okay (Y/N)-chan!” Honey beams. He sure did love cake. Moving to an empty table so that Honey and Mori can entertain their guests, you sit with your thoughts. Maybe Karou is right. I have been eating quite a bit. Maybe I should calm it down. Suddenly, it was like a lightbulb went off. That’s it! I’ll just skip a few meals. It shouldn’t be too bad. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?” Making up your mind, you say goodbye to your boyfriend and the rest of the host club, excited about your new “diet”.

Time Skip

Three days. It’s been three days of nothing but water with the occasional fruit for energy. The first day had been rough, you almost wanted to give up, but with the thought of what Karou had said and the fear that Kyoya may have felt the same, you persevered. Granted, you were a bit tired, more irritable, but you knew that the payoff would be worth it. The pain would be worth it. Because you’d have Kyoya.

Ever since the morning started you’d had a splitting headache. Truly the worst one you’ve had since beginning this “diet”. But you’d promised Kyoya you’d help him set up the club room for the guests. It was one of the few times you could be alone together in school.

You were rounding the corner to the club room when you were hit with a wave of fatigue and nausea. Your vision going blurry. “I don’t feel so good.” You mumbled to no one in particular. Before you knew it, you had passed out.

Meanwhile

Where is she? She should be here by now. Kyoya thought. It had been twenty minutes past your scheduled meet time. She’s never this late. And she didn’t send me a text. Where could she be? Kyoya hated to admit it, but he was getting worried. You never miss opportunities to spend more time together. That’s why he had scheduled this time before the club meets. He wanted to spend more time with you. I’m just going to look for her. Maybe she’s in the bathroom.

Making his way out of the club room, he walks down the hall in search of you. He was just rounding the corner to the bathroom when he saw a sight he had never wanted to witness. It was you. Face down, on the cold floors of Ouran. What happened? Who did this to you? Rushing over to your side, Kyoya picked up your head and put it in his lap. “Oh my dear, what’s happened to you?” Kyoya choked out. He picked you up and rushed you to the nurse’s office, desperate to get you help.

Mini Time Skip

You woke up to a blinding light. Am I dead? You thought. Squinting your eyes to adjust to the light, you take in your surroundings. The nurse’s office? What am I doing here? You rack your brain trying to remember the last thing you did when you recall; I was on my way to the club room but I had a massive headache. But how’d I end up here? You were about to sit up when the curtain pulled back to reveal Kyoya and the school nurse.

“Oh, hey Kyoya, nurse. What am I doing here? Do you guys know what happened?” You ask. “It seems as though you have passed out. We ran some tests and for the most part they all came back fine. Although, your blood sugar was dangerously low. Have you been eating enough my dear?” The nurse asks. You don’t want to worry anyone so you just let out an airy of course. The nurse clicks her tongue, not fully convinced, “Well alright dear. Just be sure to eat lots of fruits and vegetables and drink plenty of water, okay?” You nod your head stiffly and she leaves you and Kyoya alone.

Turning to him, you let out a shy smile, “So, are you ready-” “Why’d you lie?” You go rigid. “Huh?” “Why’d you lie to the nurse? You know you haven’t been eating.” You could feel yourself getting upset. Just who does he think he is? “And how would you know?” you scoff. “Because I know you.” He leans in, caressing your face. “I know how you are. I know how irritable you get when you don’t eat. How long have you been doing this?” You turn away, ashamed. How does he always seem to know what to say, know what to do? He grabs your chin, turning you to face him, “(Y/N), I asked you a question. How long?” “Three days.” You manage to choke out. He stiffens, but you jump to save the situation. “But I’ve been drinking water! And sometimes I’ll have a fruit or-” “That doesn’t save your case (Y/N). You’re hurting your body. You’re hurting yourself. This isn’t a healthy diet. What made you want to start this anyway?” You look down. You don’t want to answer that. You don’t want to tell him what Karou said. What would he think? “Please don’t lie to me.” He exhales, grasping your hand for dear life. “Please, I just want to help.” You look at him, eyes watery and tell him. “Karou had said some things. It’s stupid really, and I guess I took it to heart. It’s nothing, honest.” “If it’s nothing, why won’t you say it?” You look in his eyes, he always could read you like a book. “He had just asked if I wanted more cake and that it looked like I could lose a few. It really-” “He said what?” Kyoya said stone faced. How dare Karou make a comment like that? Just what right did he think he had, commenting on someone’s body, your’s for that matter? He’d take care of him, in his own time. Right now, he needed to be there for you.

“Kyoya, really it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You sighed. This isn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to cause an issue. “You will be.” He hugged you, kissing your chubby cheeks, wrapping his arms around your warm, squishiness. He loved hugging you. He loved how soft and malleable you felt against his tall, lanky form. “Because I’ll be here. Every step of the way. I love you and I love your body sweetheart. If you want to lose weight that’s fine, but don’t do it because others make you feel like you have to. You are so beautiful and I’m grateful to call you mine.” You hugged him tighter, putting every ounce of love you could.

Loving yourself is hard, but with Kyoya, you had better days coming.

[heroloverangel]

Delicate

This is technically a sequel to last year’s Dad Mirio fic but can be read on its own! Everyone’s favorite Wholesome Dilf continues to live rent-free in my brain.

“I miss you soooo much,” Mirio says for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. You give him a comforting smile from your side of the screen, you know how he feels. Your husband’s been gone for three days now helping with a disaster in Osaka, and he probably won’t be home for the rest of the week. It’s hard being married to one of Japan’s top heroes, you think to yourself. You wish you could be there with him, putting your training to good use where it’s needed, but your current assignment is too important to ignore. It’s as if he can read your mind from the other side of the country. “How’s my buddy doing?”

You smile and tilt your camera down to show off your heavy stomach. At eight months pregnant, you’re sidelined from hero work no matter what the crisis is. “He’s alright,” you confirm. “I think he’s bored without you around, though.” He lets out a little whine that’s almost heartbreaking; it’s obvious where he’d rather be right now. You take pity on him and drop the phone level with your belly to give him a better view. 

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “I promise, I’ll finish as fast as I can so I can come home to you and Mama soon.” You feel movement inside you as he talks. You don’t know how good your baby’s hearing is, especially through the video chat, but you’re sure that he’s reacting to his father’s familiar voice. “I can’t wait to get back and feel how strong you’re kicking in there. I bet you’re driving Mama crazy!” You relax further into your pillows and let him babble on to your bump about his day saving civilians and clearing out rubble, only a little lonely when you look over at the empty half of your bed. You really do miss him, your house is far too quiet and calm without his usual energy filling it.

You yawn after a few more minutes and glance at the time. “Sorry, it’s getting kinda late. Would you mind if we called it a night for now?”

He smiles, but you can tell that he’s trying to hide his disappointment. “No problem, I know you need your sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow, okay?” You agree and tell your husband you love him before hanging up the phone and settling in for bed. You’re tired, but you’ve gotten too comfortable with him sleeping beside you and it takes awhile to fall asleep on your own.

You spend the next morning balancing your laptop over your swollen belly while you browse through maternity clothes. There’s a local shop that promises same-day delivery, and you treat yourself to a few things for your last month. You read through your email, a magazine wants a quick interview for an article about hero families and you’re happy to answer their questions. It’s hard to move too much in your condition, but you make sure to do the prenatal exercises your doctor recommended and then have a nice long shower. Your new clothes arrive and you leave them on the dresser for now while you eat lunch and call your family. It still seems too quiet in the house without Mirio, and you’re getting bored when your phone finally rings and your face lights up at his name.

“Hey sweetheart! I’ve got a surprise for you!”

You can hear the smile in his voice and it warms your heart. “Is it dinner? I think somebody in here’s really craving steak tonight.”

He laughs. “You’ll see. Just have a seat on the couch and close your eyes for a second, okay?”

This isn’t the weirdest thing he’s requested over the phone, and you obey. “Alright, they’re closed. What are you planning, Lemillion?”

“You can open your eyes in three...two...one…” his voice disappears from the phone, all you hear is the background noise of birds chirping.

“Mirio?” Your eyes are still closed.

“SURPRISE!” 

You jump in shock and drop your phone, your eyes flying open. He’s standing in front of you with the biggest grin on his face, completely naked. It takes you a second to realize he must have phased through the front door to surprise you. You struggle to stand but fail, and he has to pull you up himself into his arms for a deep kiss. “You’re home early! How’d you manage that?”

“The others knew how much I wanted to get home, with you being pregnant and all, and everybody worked extra hard to cover for me so I could leave first.” You owe every single one of them a thank you gift. “Boy, that Uravity is amazing with rescue work!” Oh, you owe her twice as much after this.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you sigh happily. Your husband drops to his knees in front of you and pushes your shirt up to kiss your stomach, rubbing his hand where he feels a faint kick.

“Me too. I missed our family so much.” His arms wrap around you and he rests his head against your middle. You run your fingers through his hair, both of you taking a minute to relish your little reunion. It’s only been a few days, but it was more than enough to make you homesick for each other.

He stands back up after a bit and you head for the hallway. “You should go grab your phone off the porch and take a shower. I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you too, when you’re done.” He’s happy to obey and you follow him down the hall, pausing at the front door then into the bedroom. You wait for the bathroom door to shut and then spring into action as fast as you can. You clothes come off; you kick them under the bed instead of wasting precious time trying to pick them off the floor. 

You reach for the new clothes on the dresser and find the outfit you’d picked for his welcome home gift. The bra is made out of soft white lace so flimsy it looks like it’ll tear if you breathe too hard. It ties closed with a ribbon in the front and your clumsy fingers finally form a decent bow on the third try. A skirt attaches beneath the cups and just skims your thighs, the two halves of it parted to show off your obvious pregnancy. You’re lucky that the matching underwear ties on the sides with more ribbon; you’re not sure you’d be able to get them on without five minutes of struggling if you had to step into them. 

You look at yourself in the mirror and adjust the skirt of your lingerie. Despite the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination, you look sweet. Innocent. Delicate. A grin spreads across your face; it’s perfect.

You get dressed just in time; you hear the shower turn off and the door opens a second later. “There, all clean and-” Mirio freezes at the sight of you and you see his fingers twitch against the towel wrapped around his waist. “Oh, wow. You look...just, wow.” He’s crossed the room faster than you can react, strong arms wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “You’re so gorgeous like this, babe.”

You lean into his body; you’ve missed this while he was gone. “Well, it’ll be awhile before we can do this again. I figured we should really enjoy ourselves while we still can.” He nods and gives you a surprisingly gentle kiss. You can tell he’s holding back his strength for your benefit and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.

Mirio recovers from his surprise quickly and returns to his usual unstoppable energy. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise!” His bigger hand is warm around yours as he guides you to your bed, losing his towel in the process. You don’t hide your staring; his body is gorgeous after so many years of training and you could look at him for hours. He sits back against the headboard and carefully brings you with him to straddle his lap, and you feel his cock already growing hard against your thigh. “We’ll take it easy,” he promises. “I know we have to be a little more gentle now since you’re so big-” You stare down at Mirio silently, but he continues. “What? You are big, that’s a good thing. You’re growing our baby in there, he needs all that room!” You just shake your head; you can’t really feel annoyed when he’s this sweet.

He looks up at you with pure affection written all over his face and leans into your touch as you run your fingers through his damp hair. “How can you be this buff and this adorable?” It’s not the first time you’ve asked as much, and every time he laughs you off with a faint blush on his cheeks. You lean in for another kiss while his hands move from your hips over your ribs to the front of your slip.

“This is so pretty, you should keep it on.” He gives your chest a squeeze and you whine, too sensitive from the hormones wrecking havoc on your body. You knew your breasts were going to get bigger, but they’ve turned out to be overachievers and you’ve jumped up two cup sizes already. “They’re still really sore, huh?” You nod and he offers you a comforting smile as he plays with the bow before finally tugging it open. Your nipples are already hard, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips when his thumb brushes over one. “I could help you with that, if you want.”

“Mirio…” You love your husband and all his enthusiasm, but you’re well aware that he can be a little too eager and get carried away. He’s being careful now as his fingers trace against your warm skin, his touch barely teasing you. He pulls you closer; you can feel the smile on his lips as he leans into your neck. He follows your pulse, down your collarbone to leave kisses at the swell of your breast and you sigh. “Okay,” you agree. “Just remember to-”

“I know, be gentle. Don’t worry babe, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He pushes your lingerie out of the way to get a better view at your heavy chest and appreciates the sight of it. “Man, our kid’s not gonna be lacking on calcium, is he?”

“I love you, please stop talking.” He laughs but obeys, his tongue flicking over your nipple and making you squirm in his arms. He does it a few times and you let out a little gasp when he takes you into his mouth. “Go easy,” you remind him, but he’s already distracted with his task. You asked your doctor about doing this before and were told it was perfectly fine, but you can’t quite shake the thought that it’s a little weird as Mirio begins to suck at your tender nipple.

You’ve tried this before, but every time he’s been too rough in his excitement and you’ve had to yank his head away from you in pain. Tonight though, he’s trying his best and after a few seconds of discomfort there’s an unfamiliar tingle deep in your breast as your body responds to his stimulation. “It feels weird,” you groan, but your fingers thread into his hair so he won’t pull away. “It’s not bad, just weird.” You’re not entirely sure you like what he’s doing, but you’re willing to continue until you figure it out. His tongue brushes over you with a slightly different motion, and something in you clicks into place. “Can you do that again? I think I liked that.”

His laughter is muffled but still obvious and you can feel the smile against your skin. Mirio’s happy to assist, one strong hand settling on your back to keep you steady. It wasn’t a mistake; he repeats his movements and you realize that it feels good. It feels really good, you have to admit, as his eyes slip closed so he can focus entirely on pleasing you like this. You hold him tight to your body, fingers running through his messy hair while you enjoy the affection so happily given. You’re still sensitive though, and after a few more minutes you start to get overwhelmed and have to pull him away.

“It tastes good.” His grin is huge as he licks his lips. “It’s sweet, just like the rest of you.” You’d roll your eyes if he wasn’t so cute. He gives your breast a gentle squeeze and earns another whimper from you, then turns his attention to the other one. “Don’t want this side feeling left out, right? Lucky I’m here to take care of everything!” Your heart skips a beat, you’re so in love with this silly, wonderful idiot. You don’t get a chance to respond, once his mouth is back on you it’s hard to do anything besides pant and whine for him.

You squirm against him, his dick pressing against your thigh and your panties doing very little to hide how much you’re loving this. “Miriooo,” you moan, and the look in his eyes is nothing but pure happiness that makes you melt. “You always take good care of me,” you coo, reaching down to stroke his cock lightly. “You’re so good to me, honey.” He pulls you closer and releases your chest to look up and meet your eyes.

“Babe, I’m just giving you what you deserve. You’re literally making a brand new, little person in there. If that’s not worth being extra nice, I don’t know what is.” He really has no idea how perfect he is. His thumb brushes over your nipple and your body is so sensitive now it makes you shudder. “Alright now?”

You stop for a second to consider. Your breasts do feel a bit lighter, there’s less pressure weighing down on you after his help. “Yeah, thanks. You’re the best, really.”

He brushes off your compliment in favor of pulling at the strings holding your underwear together. “Just doing my job, miss.” He groans at the sight of you fully naked and traces a finger along the lips of your cunt. You hadn’t noticed just how wet you were getting as he’d worked on your nipples, but now two of his fingers slip inside you with no effort. “I love you so much,” he says with another kiss.

You buck into his hand mindlessly, too eager for his touch after only a few days. You want to hold off and come with his dick buried inside you, but you can’t deny yourself when you’re this needy already. “I want it,” you whine pitifully.

His other hand gives your hip a reassuring squeeze. “I know, baby. You can have whatever you want, just tell me.” His thumb swirls over your clit and he doesn’t miss the jolt that runs down your body. “Right there, huh? My pretty little wife wants me to make her come?” His smirk is playful and there’s a glint of mischief in those friendly eyes.

“Mirio, please.” Hearing him talk like that does something to you and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

His hand moves faster and your pussy clenches tight around his fingers. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. Just let yourself go for me.” His voice is so warm and soothing, you can’t resist. Your orgasm is marked with desperate whispers in his ear as his hand moves gently between your thighs to urge you on. “That’s it, honey. You’re so good, I want more of you.”

It takes you a minute to calm down before you’re able to pry your sweaty face away from his shoulder. His fingers leave you aching to be filled again, and you swallow hard when you watch him bring them to his mouth to lick them clean. 

“That’s my girl,” he smiles like the sun and you look away, almost embarrassed by the affection between you two. You can’t see anything past your swollen belly, but you can feel his thick cock ready for a turn. “Are you up for more? It’s fine if you need to wait-”

You fumble blindly for his cock until the tip presses just outside your cunt. “I want you inside me. Here, Mirio. Your pretty little wife wants to make you come.” The blush spreading across his face at your words is a special reward of its own. His hips thrust upward to enter you while he slowly pulls you down to meet him, and your mouth falls open in a long moan. “Fuck, Mirio. We’ll have to wait a couple weeks after he’s born and it’s gonna suck so bad.”

He hasn’t put much thought into this fact and you can practically see the gears in his head turning. “Well then, I guess we’d better make it count while we still have the chance,” he says finally. He’s always so much stronger than you, even when you’re not in such a delicate condition, and easily sets a steady pace moving you up and down his dick. You cling to his shoulders to steady yourself as you ride him, pressing your tongue into hs mouth to devour his sounds. This may be the peak of happiness, with your sweet husband pounding away inside your excited pussy, showering you with compliments about how great you are and how perfect your little family is going to be. “And once he gets a little older, we can start working on his siblings!”

Your hips falter in their rhythm at the suggestion. “S-siblings? Already?”

He grins back at you. “Of course! We need five or six, at least!”

“Five or six…” you repeat, suddenly distracted by the thought of doing this another half-dozen times. You don’t know why you’re surprised, it’d be more of a shock if he didn’t have infinite love to share. The idea doesn’t bother you, and you find yourself returning his smile with a smirk of your own. “You really wanna fill me up that much, Lemillion?”

You’re not expecting his thrusts to speed up so much or for him to pull you down so hard you’re gasping for air. “God, babe. So much. I think about it like, all the time now. You have no idea.” He stops to kiss you again, and your cunt squeezes hard around him. “I can take more time off of work,” Mirio insists mindlessly, getting far too ahead of himself. “I bet I can hold so many babies at once.”

You laugh, he’s so ridiculous sometimes. “Let’s just focus on this one for awhile, okay?” He nods, trailing his lips down your throat to feel how fast your pulse is racing for him. You can feel another orgasm building, and that he isn’t far behind. You were only apart for three days but it seems like far too long. “You’re really, really the best.”

He cups your sweaty face in one hand, the look in his eyes so soft and loving it takes your breath away. There aren’t enough words to describe how much you love him right now, and clearly it’s the same for him. Wordlessly he releases you and drags his hand down your body, stopping to tweak your nipples and making you cry out. His fingers drop to rub firmly against your clit, and your back goes rigid. “Miri-ohh. Just like that, I’m gonna...there, fuck.” You clamp down hard on his cock with a loud moan and he holds you tight, supporting your overworked body while you come. “Here,” your voice is ragged. “Your turn, I know you’re dying to come inside me.”

“You’re amazing, honey.” That last compliment is all he gets out before his pace goes sloppy and you feel him flooding your pussy with a low groan. “You’re so amazing.” 

You cling to him while he gradually wears himself out and stay wrapped up in his arms for the next few minutes. Eventually, there’s a firm kick in your belly that informs you that someone noticed all your movement and he’s not happy about it. Both of you laugh as you separate; you flop down on the bed while Mirio cleans you up and finds you a comfy, oversized shirt and fresh panties to wear. It’s still fairly early, and you won’t be tired enough to sleep for a few hours.

“Now that was a welcome home gift. You should just wear that around the house until you have the baby, it looks really great on you.”

You ruffle his messy hair. “I don’t think it would survive the entire month around you,” you tease. You stretch your arms above your head and feel a grumble in your stomach. “So, the surprise wasn’t steak for dinner tonight?”

He’s in too good of a mood to even think of denying you. “It is now!” He’s already fumbling for his phone to look up menus. “Whatever you wanna eat, just say the word!”

Sometimes you wonder how you ever got so lucky.

[aetheternity]

I'll admit it's exciting. (Armin x reader)

Synopsis: Being your professor's dirty little secret. His pet.. Sounded too good to refuse.

Warning: Smut in the later chapters! 18+ only

"Good girl.." Your lip tucked itself beneath your tooth. Spine tingling at the intoxicating scent surrounding you.

You coaxed a breath off your lips as the almost inaudible creak of the desk under your professors weight made you sit up straight. His arms locking you in place.

You looked into his soft blue eyes feeling a tinge of entrapment at the way he had you locked in.

"Do you understand now?" His surprisingly large hands caressed your shoulder.

"Y-yeah." If you could see your own face you'd probably be embarrassed but you were currently helpless to the tiny bits of touch he allowed you.

Your elbows pushed you up just a little bit closer to his chest. His touch disappearing too soon.

"I think you'll be ready for the test in a couple days." And suddenly every bit of him was walking away and back to sit at his desk. "You should still study though. This stuff has been difficult for you."

~~~~

"Y/N."

The tip of your nail stayed fidgeting between your lips.

"Y/N."

Words flew through your brain but it all continued to just be flushed straight out again.

"Y/N!" The book flew from your grasp landing with a clatter that attracted glances from all angles.

"Are you alright Y/N?" Eren asked, concern etched into his deep sapphire eyes.

You let out a harsh exhale. "I was, until Sasha stopped my heart." You held a palm up to your chest, glaring over at Sasha.

Mikasa blinked boredom sunk into her features. Her cheeks forced into the palms of her hands as her elbows stayed firmly planted into the table. "New class?"

You nodded, shutting your binder before promptly flipping it open again.

"You'll be fine." She muttered, staring at you with her own version of concern.

"How can you say that? I had to transfer from a different class a month after the semester already started. You know how much stuff I've already missed! Not to mention I had originally thought this class was gonna be next semester me's problem." With a groan you let your head flop harshly onto the mildly sticky table in front of you.

"I think what Mikasa was trying to suggest was that Mr. Arlert has always been said to be a very gentle and caring professor." Sasha said

"You can always take office hours if you really have a hard time." Eren suggested

"Thanks Eren, but I think you're forgetting that I hate doing anything outside of class that won't immediately get me a passing grade."

Eren just shrugged, moving to stuff his notebooks into his own bag. All of them genuinely looking as though he'd just reused them from high school. Each one with a rip in the first page or the spiral unraveling.

"Welp it's 2:00." Sasha reminded you. And you groaned so loud you could practically feel the stares from other tables touching your soul.

"Maybe I'll fall down the stairs and break my ankle before I get up there." You slung your bag onto your shoulder hanging your head as you walked off.

"I'll have your favorite donuts in my room after you get out!" Sasha called

"You should've started with that!"

You made the walk so much longer by dragging your feet up every stair individually and rubbing a finger to your temple. So much so that it surprised you when you walked into the classroom and no one was in there except..

"Oh hello."

Hot..

So so very hot..

His smile sparkled only futher brightened by his deep blue eyes. His short blond hair parted slightly over his forehead. His blue button up was cuffed up against his forearms revealing a very slender but still fairly muscular set of hands. He probably had a nice chest too.

"You must be Y/N." He chuckled and before you could reassociate he was giving you a whole new list of things to think about as he bent over his desk to retrieve a piece of paper.

"Here's the syllabus. You're starting kinda late so it will be helpful to you to come to office hours. My office hours are at the bottom here." When he reached forward to point his scent caught you by surprise. A sweet almost fruit like smell wafted up your nose. "I hope you'll catch on quickly. Sit wherever you'd like."

His remark barely registered in your mind, your mouth hung open immediately slamming shut as the class quickly began to fill.

Before you could get swept up by the people flooding into the room you made your way to the front plopping down into the seat closest to the window. When you looked up again from where you'd yanked your binder almost haphazardly out of your bag, you caught the quickest wink you'd ever seen in your entire life.

Or maybe it was your imagination.

But the way he leaned a little closer when he approached you wasn't.

"Front row? Good choice."

Regardless of the heart problems he'd recently caused you he was moving on. Quickly silencing the class and starting the lesson.

Hot.

The only thought racing through your head.

Hot. Hot. Hot..

He was pretty! When he turned off the light his eyes didn't dull in the almost blinding way in which they shone. His hair fluttered over his forehead and ears and his shirt seemed to hug his chest tighter every time he reached up to turn off the projector or even just to reach a high spot on the board.

You already knew everything from today was going in one ear and out the other but it was really hard to give a damn when your professor's pants cupped his ass they way they did. His dark shoes clicked across the floor and-

"Do you understand any of it? I know it's your first day."

You blinked up at him hoping your eyes weren't as wide as they felt or that you weren't popping your mouth open and close like a suffocating fish.

He smiled, flipping the paper on the desk around till it faced him. "Can I?" He reached for the tip of your pen and as you let it go your fingers brushed in probably the strongest current of static that had ever touched your body.

"Don't worry ok this is just a practice test I wanna see what you know." He said, leaving a couple marks on the paper. He then pointed to the two empty test questions. "Don't leave anything blank ok."

This time when he walked away you were without a doubt certain he'd winked. When you looked down at your paper again you could see 3 checks on the paper in the light blue ink you were using and a little smiley face in the corner.

Your chest honestly had no right fluttering the way it did over something so trivial.

The class was only an hour and forty minutes but when it was over you felt like you'd only been seated there for ten minutes. When you handed the test paper back he sent you one final wink that made your knees buckle.

"See you next time." He said and you had to forcibly stop yourself from shuttering.

You half speed walked half ran out of there as soon as his classroom door had shut behind you. All the way to Sasha's dorm room.

You slammed it open already knowing Sasha only kept it locked when she wasn't in there. Your chest was heaving and you held onto the door frame for support. Noticing the immediate and visible flinch from Eren and Sasha.

"He's. Hot!!" You gasped for air before walking in and sinking to the floor in front of Sasha. She didn't budge as you fell against her shoulder just wrapped an arm around your shoulders hugging your back. "Oh god he's so hot.." You breathed into Sasha's collarbone.

"Looks like she did learn something." Eren muttered

"No! You don't understand he's like so pretty!"

Mikasa didn't even try to hide the way she rolled her eyes and Eren just sighed.

"Aww you've got a crush on your professor that's adorable." Sasha said, reaching into the box next to her, grabbing your favorite donut she pushed it into your open mouth pulling it back slightly to allow you to chew.

You sobbed a little before sighing and falling back into Sasha's neck. "What the hell am I gonna do?" You sighed

"Focus on passing the class is probably the first step." Eren replied

"Now you're just being silly." You replied, rubbing your fingers into the floor.

Sasha brought the donut back up to your lips smiling as you took another bite. "I wanna see him now! Isn't he the really young professor? Like he's supposedly only twenty five as of recently and got hired less than a year ago."

"Yeah.." You quickly put your password into your phone, turning the screen so Sasha could see.

Mikasa and Eren scooted closer as Sasha took a closer look. "He is pretty." Mikasa was the first to speak.

"Why do you just have his picture pulled up? How're you already being creepy?" Eren questioned

You scoffed, "I just happened to be looking on Instagram during a quick bathroom trip.. and I just so happened to look for him.. it's his fault for making it easy." You snatched the donut from Sasha taking a bigger bite.

"Yeah no I agree with Eren this is cree- AW HE HAS A DOG!" Sasha snatched the phone zooming in on the puppy in his lap.

"Actually it's his family's dog. Her name's Pumpkin and he goes home as often as possible to see her. A small two hour train ride to be exact." You sigh briefly "I've never really liked Terriers as a dog breed but that one's so cute.."

"Is the dog cute or is it the guy holding her?" Mikasa questioned with a little smirk.

"Not helping Mikasa.." Eren interjected "What are you even thinking? No matter if you like professor Arlert or not he has to keep it professional and so do you."

"Eren, look at the puppy." You took your phone from Sasha turning the screen back to face him.

He glanced down at the image then back into your eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Puppy!"

"Creepy!" He pressed the power button on your phone and you deflated against Sasha's legs letting your phone turn over onto its face.

"I'll never understand why you don't go for a degree in hacking or something the way you always manage to pull up information on people." Mikasa shook her head.

"Probably going to be stuck with more math classes for one and secondly when I become a supervillain I don't need everyone knowing it was apart of my major." You replied, with an exaggerated eye roll.

Sasha shrugged, "If it was your major I'm pretty sure everyone would understand your descent into madness."

"I can't believe you just said that.." Eren groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Me or her?" You asked

"Yes!"

~~~~

Thursday came too soon. Or maybe you should say, finally Thursday is here! You jumped back and forth between the two but by the time you slid into the honestly uncomfortable classroom seat and placed your bag between your legs you knew exactly what you felt.

"Professor!" A female's voice caught your attention and you turned slightly to see a short brown haired girl running into the classroom.

"You were right about what I was missing! Once I applied what we talked about in office hours it became so simple."

"That's what I like to hear Petra." He winked as he flipped through a stack of papers on his desk.

Wait, had he always done that to all the students or had you just not noticed last time? You felt your shoulders hunch but they were instantly picking back up again as he slid a piece of paper onto your desk.

"You did pretty well on that practice test. Seems like you'll be up to speed in no time." He smiled, a deep warm smile that made your stomach squeeze.

Your lips curled upwards and you quickly moved to hide it behind your paper as he walked away.

"You too huh?"

You felt your skin practically vibrate but you hoped and prayed it wasn't too noticeable.

"Wh-what?" You glanced over at the girl Petra who sat only one desk away from you. Her features flat and her eyes dark in the middle an almost scary contrast from earlier.

"You're into him too?" She muttered

Was it that obvious? Stupid question. How could you be so obvious?

"I don't think you'll win out." She continued and before you could question it, she pointed to the back row.

It seemed almost like a tussle as Mr. Arlert was being held hostage by another young female holding his hand. He smiled mildly awkwardly as he spoke with her, nodding his head to everything her and the other girls surrounding her said. The first girl running a thumb over the back of his hand.

You felt your skin prickle and you exhaled loudly. "So.. I'm guessing you too.."

Petra blinked at you then quickly shifted around in her seat. Mr. Arlert quickly approached the front of the room clapping to get the classes attention. And with that the lesson was beginning.

You noticed from the clap at the beginning of class to the last word uttered that not one word in Mr. Arlert's lesson had actually registered in your mind. Your thoughts too full of Petra's words, her blank almost villainous expression as she'd talked.

And that girl's hand. That annoying girl in the back row. You peeked your head back there looking at the now empty chair. In fact the entire classroom was empty and had been for at least 15 minutes since you continued to struggle with stuffing your binder back into your apparently shrunken bag.

"Need help?"

You bit your lip and looked away as he came closer. You weren't really standing up straight but you immediately noticed the way he towered over you. His fingers so delicate in the way they brushed over yours sliding the irritating object into the confines of your bag.

"Thank you.." You whispered

He chuckled, "No problem, happy to help."

His eyes didn't leave yours for an almost uncomfortable amount of time so you shifted your feet backing away a little. He seemed to notice and placed a hand on the back of his neck, backing up himself.

Oh no. Now he was getting uncomfortable.

He made his way back over to his desk but not before you'd slipped in something to ease the tension. "Sorry for over staying my welcome.."

He let out a soft chuckle. "You're not bothering me plus there are no classes in here for two hours after mine on Thursday. You can stay as long as you'd like."

"O-oh." You face palmed internally at your stupid reply. "So.." You began again. "Do you mind if I asked you how you're such a young professor.."

His eyes flickered up from the work he'd been filling out. "Well, I skipped a couple grades and I was in college by 15. I'm actually still in college now but I was an assistant teacher at 18 for about three years for a high school a couple blocks from here before I became a full fledged teacher and then I worked at the same school as a teacher for three more years before I finally left and started teaching here."

It should've been obvious from the start that he'd worked tireless hours of school to get here at such a young age. Not to mention probably having worked just as hard in the gym. He'd only leaned back a little bit in his chair but it was enough for you to have a perfect mental image.

Your eyes flicked up to his much softer more.. Arlert like smile? Maybe? It just felt like the kind of smile he'd give a friend and less like the smile he used in the classroom. Not that that one felt fake, just.. different.

"Do you.. I mean.. have you always had girls?.." His eyebrows scrunched as you spoke. You pointed to the back of the classroom. "You're young I mean, do girls always touch you like that?"

He blinked up at the ceiling then back down to you. Your breath hitched as he pulled himself up from the desk walking closer to you.

"As soon as they find out I'm not that much older than them? Yeah."

You probably should've stopped but your brain was suddenly working independently. "Does it?.. Do you like that kind of attention?"

He sat down on the desk crossing his arms over his chest and his leg over his knee. He spoke his head. "Not normally no."

"Normally?"

He stood again but this time he stopped directly in front of you. Sharp blue eyes cold and yet warm and vibrant. The desk creaked under your weight as you leaned back into it. His hands at your sides, his breath tickling your upper lip.

His thumb came up to graze your cheek but was quickly removed and planted back on the desk. "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded way too eagerly and-

So so so much softer than you'd even thought imaginable. His nose rubbed against yours and he was pulling away. Too soon.

You grabbed the back of his neck, yanking him back to you. Immediately delighted by the warm touch of his pretty pink lips.

He pulled back and you yanked him forward. Over and over again with soft peppered kisses. And then one slightly longer one where he was comfortably mushing his lips against yours.

[yoditorian]

The Pancake King

javier peña/reader

yeah i know i said i had no more wip space but then i had a headcanon idea which turned into a note on my phone which turned into,,,,this, which might turn into something else but for now it’s a standalone oneshot that can be read as a sequel to this

main masterlist

word count: 2.5k // warnings: some swears, unnamed boyfriend cheating, food, work stress mentions

This week really, really doesn’t want to give you a break. 

The mountain of paperwork waiting for signatures and stamps only seems to get bigger, obscuring half the office from your little corner desk. Every time you have a moment to get through a few of them, you’re pulled into somebody else’s office for a meeting, or someone needs you to double check one of their own forms, or you have to clean up somebody else’s mess. As usual. 

And then there’s your life outside of work, if you can even call it that. But your air conditioner is broken and the mailman keeps giving your letters to everyone but you, it seems, and it’s too fucking hot during the day to have to deal with any of this shit. 

So you took the day, called in with a fake-cold and promised you’d be back in tomorrow. How much could the office fall apart in just one day? The air conditioning is still broken, but you’d gone out and bought three of the biggest fans you could find. Problem one, sort of solved. The mailman is his own mystery, seemingly vanishing into thin air as soon as you’d spotted him on the sidewalk, at least Connie was in to give you the mail that had gotten mixed up with hers. That, and you’d managed to sneak in some baby cuddles with Olivia. There’s not much you can do about the weather itself, besides wear as little as can be considered publicly decent and pray for the thunderstorm the weather forecast keeps promising is on its way. 

Only, as luck always has it, things get worse. 

You’d called the boyfriend you left back home, just like you do at the same time every Thursday night. And some chirpy woman had answered, introducing herself as his girlfriend. And that was the last straw. 

You can’t even remember what you told her, now. Something about how he could drop the key to your apartment back with your best friend, maybe something along the lines of how he can go fuck himself too. That sounds about right. You’d hung up before she could say anything else. 

It’s just you and the wall now, the television not even good enough company to quiet the stress of literally everything in your life. You’re vaguely aware of your stomach rumbling, although you’re not sure you have the energy to get up and root around in your fridge. You ate the last of the leftovers in there yesterday anyway, and you’re pretty sure everything else involves some kind of preparation. Which you really don’t have the energy for. Sleep, sleep can be your dinner tonight.

Javier and Steve get back from the office at the same time Connie comes trotting down the stairs to leave for a shift. 

“Can one of you check on them?” She asks, pulling on her cardigan to keep off the evening breeze. There’s something in her tone that has Javier’s brow furrowing even further than it usually is, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of the Murphys.

“Last time we spoke, I thought they were gonna hit me,” Steve raises his eyebrows in disbelief, a little too dramatically, “This one’s on you, Peña.” 

He’s off up the stairs before Javier can argue that he probably, definitely, is the last on the list of people you want to see if you’re having a bad day. He’s responsible for half the forms waiting on your desk, seemingly doubled over the course of the day. That, and his comforting skills aren’t exactly legendary. Connie, for all her tact, shrugs apologetically at him before she’s leaving too, and he’s left standing in the hall wondering exactly what it is he’s supposed to do now.

He remembers his bad day, the really bad one, a few months ago. How you turned up on his doorstep with homemade nachos and a smile, exactly what he needed before he even knew it himself. He hears his father in his head, waxing poetic about the way that people comfort others is often the way they like to be comforted. And, honestly, who doesn’t like a good meal when everything feels a little bit against them? 

Javier can’t cook, he’s not arrogant enough to pretend that he can make anything off the top of his head. Nor is he certain he has any of the ingredients for anything in the cookbook Steve had bought him as a joke for the Christmas just gone. There is one option though, he just hopes it’s the right one as he starts to pull a frying pan out of the cupboard. 

You’re surprised when there’s a knock at your door and you have to struggle out of your blanket for a minute, your ass numb from sitting on the ground for too long. It’s probably only Connie, checking that you’ve eaten. She’ll see right through your lie but you doubt she’ll push it, only remind you to eat breakfast with a stern look that you know she only pulls out for her most difficult patients. You’re not sure when that privilege extended to you. 

It’s not Connie. 

Javier stands in the light of the hallway, a foil covered plate in his hands, and looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. You start to wish you hadn’t worn your blanket like a cape to answer the door. 

“I, um-” He can’t seem to pick where to look, eyes settling somewhere to the right of your head before he tries again, “You had a bad day.” 

Oh, oh, he really couldn’t have tried harder. It’s an odd parallel of a moment, months ago, when you barged your way into his apartment with nachos and good intentions. There’s an uncomfortable swell of something right under your lungs and you beg it to stay quiet. He gestures with the plate in his hands, the smell of sugar and sweetness wafting out from underneath it, and your stomach gurgles. The sound pulls a giggle from both of you, and things start to feel a lot more comfortable. 

“Welcome to the pit of despair.” You laugh, gesturing for him to follow you in and toward the kitchen. 

You pull your last two clean forks out of the cutlery drawer as Javier sets the plate down on the kitchen table and reveals whatever it is he spent the time and effort to make. Just for you. 

Pancakes.

And, honestly, you couldn’t imagine anything more Javier. He barely leaves the office, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only ever seen him eat outside of his desk when Connie forces him to come to dinner. You can’t stop the smile that slips onto your face, the first one all week if you’re being honest. 

“What?” He asks, taking the fork you offer out to him and settling down in the chair across from you.

“You made me pancakes?” Your voice is smaller than you expect it, the intention of his actions catches in your throat and makes you a little more emotional than you thought it would. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but thinks better of it when you reach out with your fork and rip a chunk out of the stack of frankly perfect looking offerings. 

And they are perfect. Fluffy and light and sweet and wonderful. An odd juxtaposition to their chef, but you don’t think about it. You don’t think about anything, you sit and eat in silence and try to prolong this one moment of peace for as long as you can. 

It ends sooner than you want it to. Every last crumb devoured between the two of you, and suddenly everything doesn’t seem so bad. Pancakes will do that. 

He’’s gathering up the plate and forks before you can protest, moving wordlessly to tackle the pile of dishes that you’ve been ignoring in your sink for the last couple of days. 

Javier can’t help himself when he spots the stack of dishes behind you. You’ve looked like you’re on the verge of crying since you opened the door and if there’s one chore that’ll reduce someone to tears, it’s doing the dishes. So he doesn’t even think about it, just collects the empty plate and pulls the fork out of your hand and gets to work. 

You’re about to protest, tell him something about how you can deal with it, or that it’s late and he should go home, get some sleep. He knows you well enough, and your face when he turns to look at you over the shoulder as the hot water starts running proves as much. Just as you know the no-nonsense look on his face isn’t one you want to argue with. He waits, watching, for you to rise from the table and shuffle back towards the living room, listens carefully for the sound of you flopping onto the couch, before turning back to the sink and getting to work. 

It’s times like these he wishes he asked more questions, then he might know what prompted you to call out with a cold when you’re clearly the picture of health. Physically, anyway. Although sometimes he thinks you could be all kinds of sick, and that little voice in his head would still tell him you’re pretty. If he knew, or had any kind of hunch, he could help a little more than this. Pancakes and dirty dishes only go so far, although he’s never been great at comforting people beyond his cousins’ scraped knees when they were little. It’s not a case of ignoring any time you’ve opened up about your life outside of work, there’s always some part of his brain ready to soak up your every word like a sponge. Maybe it is as simple as that, maybe it’s just work that has gotten a bit too much. Maybe it’s a combination of things.

The dishes are neatly lined up on the drying rack before he even notices he’s finished, fishing around in the bottom of the sink for a full minute until he realises everything has been washed. 

You’re still sitting on the couch when he comes through to the living room, hands dried and clean. You shuffle up to make room for him, having just dumped yourself unceremoniously in the middle of the cushions, and keep your eyes on the dormant television in front of you. You’re expecting him to say something, to tell you it’ll be okay, or that everything will work itself out, or that it probably won’t seem like a big deal in the morning. He’d be right, it probably won’t. But right now, all you can feel is the weight that settled on your chest as the whole of the past week makes itself comfortable. 

You pull the blanket tighter against you, shoulders straining the thin fabric, as if you could squash all your problems until they disappear. But they only seem to get bigger.

“You remember my boyfriend, back home?” You’re quiet, more so than you had been earlier. As if you’re afraid of the words as you speak them.

He does remember. The guy came down to visit once, only a few weeks after you’d been transferred. Steve had done his best to befriend the guy, where Javier hadn’t extended anything beyond a handshake and a raised eyebrow in your direction. Not that he didn’t like him (he didn’t, still doesn’t, but that’s besides the point), but all Javier really remembers is your disappointment come Monday morning when you’d trudged into the office and told them he’d had to leave early. Work emergency. It had smelt like bullshit then, it smells like bullshit now. Still, he nods, and lets you continue.

“Not only mine, turns out.” It all comes out in one breath, and all he can do is watch as you curl even further into yourself. Scumbag. Sure, Javi’s been around the block a little, or a lot, but he’s never stooped so low as to cheat on anybody. He’s above that, at least. 

The barely audible sniffle from under your blanket pulls him right out of thinking of all the ways he could make this guy’s life hell back home, and he sends a prayer up to whoever’s listening that he won’t make it worse with what he’s about to do. 

A soft tug on the corner of your blanket is the only warning you get, and suddenly you’re being pulled across the length of the couch until you’re half in his lap.

“Javi.” You manage, barely hanging on to your composure. You know he knows that, but you don’t know why he won’t leave you to it. 

The look on your face just about breaks his heart. All big watery eyes and confusion, the nickname you so rarely use sounds so soft whispered in the air between you. You’re already beginning to crumble, if only from the way he’s holding you like you’ll shatter with the slightest breeze. Maybe you will.

It’s the tenderness that gets you, in the end. How he seems to just know what you need, far better than anyone else has in a long time. The weight of his arms around you, gentle but firm, makes it suddenly difficult to breathe past the lump in your throat as the tears start to fall. And Javier holds you through it all. Even though you’re both at an awkward angle and you’re pretty sure his leg is trapped underneath you, he doesn’t budge. It’s easy to forget, alongside your easy camaraderie with Steve, that Javier works with you all day every day too. 

It can’t be more than an hour later that he feels you slump against him and your breathing begins to even out, save for the occasional stray hiccup. Something about the way you’ve snuggled into him, head on his chest and fingers fisted in the soft black t-shirt he reserves for cold nights and bad days. A crack of thunder and sudden downpour of rain jolts you as you sleep, sends you even further into his embrace, and he holds you to him a little tighter. It’s nice, oddly. Even though having you so close makes his heart want to burst right out of his ribcage. 

At least the rain sends a welcome gust of cool air through the open bedroom window, swirling down the hall and mercifully circling around the living room. 

Javier tugs the blanket out from around you, just enough to cover the both of you, and shuffles as much as he dares to try and get comfortable. You need the sleep, and he’s not about to take it from you just for the sake of blood flow in his leg. You barely notice when he settles, comfortable even on your old couch and the weight of a grown human on top of him. His back will kill him in the morning, but you’ll have rested better for it and that’s a small price to pay. 

He tries not to think too hard about what that might mean. 

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like A Butterfly... Ch.6 ...Sting Like A Bee

Summary: An unexpected ally appears before Marinette. The only problem is, he's stumbled onto something he shouldn't have. And she needs it back.

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

Marinette was having a terrible day.

First she shows up late with the principal accessory of the Gabriel line's Fashion Week showing. Fashion Week! Marinette was looking forward to it all month! 

Next Audrey Bourgeois, Style Queen herself, treats the hat Marinette worked so hard on like gum on the bottom of her shoe. Sure Adrien had been super encouraging but he hadn't seen the look of utter contempt on Audrey Bourgeois face. No one could look that disgusted all the time!

Speaking of Adrien, he didn't make getting over him any easier by being so kind.

And if that wasn't enough Marinette's brain insisted on using Chat Noir's Miraculous to fight the akumatized villain. Again! She didn't want to think about Chat Noir right now because... Because... Marinette blinked rapidly. Deep breath... Because thinking about Chat Noir was painful.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

"Don't worry, Tikki. We'll get the box right after the show," Marinette stage whispered so as to not alert her parents. Who walked not even a meter away.

Tikki let out a concerned whine. Oh, this was a bad idea. She could feel it. Marinette was right that they couldn't get away from her parents beforehand. But that only made Tikki even more anxious to get searching. And Marinette really didn't need something else to worry about on top of... everything else.

She hoped no one found it.

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

Chloe's day was ridiculous. Utterly, ridiculous!

She sat next to her mother as Adrien walked down the runway. Lingering dread squashed and thrown into the very back of her mental walk-in closet where she kept unimportant things. Like shoes she never wore anymore, problematic outfits and lingering guilt that totally wasn't her's. Adrien wasn't slowly disintegrating anymore so why dwell on the past?

Adrien's performance was flawless and Chloe was absolutely certain she appreciated his efforts more than anyone else... Even if Alya Cesaire was livestreaming.

The show went off without a hitch. Adrien seemed fine but then he was almost as good at pretending as she was. Chloe eyed him as Gabriel's lackey, um, assistant pulled him along. Not physically, of course. It was more of a metaphorical pulling.

Ugh, Gabriel Agreste started talking with Chloe's mother through his assistant's tablet. Like, yeah, apologizing to the Queen of Style was a no brainer. But he could have at least come in person! Not like Gabriel was doing anything important besides being the world's richest hermit.

... And Dupain-Cheng was there too. Of course she was. At least her mother would put Dupain-Cheng in her place. Chloe felt herself smirk at the thought.

Adrien raised an eyebrow. As though reading her mind.

Chloe pretended not to notice. No petty satisfactions here! No, sir! But it wasn't like the Queen of Style was going to say anything about Dupain-Cheng's hat except-

"It's the most exceptional thing I've ever seen!" Audrey Bourgeois announced.

Exact- Wait, what!?

"You're a visionary, Marinette! Glitter's had its day..."

Chloe's ears rang, drowning out her mother's voice. Exceptional? Her? Over a- a- a hat!? A vice squeezed Chloe's chest with cruel precision. When her own present was rejected without even unwrapping it!? Chloe's fists shook as she bit her tongue.

"Isn't that nice for your friend, Chloe dearest?" Andre Bourgeois asked.

"It's ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!" Chloe whirled on her mother. "I've never been to New York with you and you're taking Marinette Dupain-Cheng!?" She spat.

"I'm afraid I have a last minute meeting to attend, my dear Audrey," Gabriel announced from the tablet. "Nathalie, bring Adrien home immediately."

Adrien's attention snapped from Chloe to Gabriel. "But, Father, I-"

"Do not embarrass me in front of the Bourgeois," Gabriel snapped, ending the call.

Jaw clenching shut, Adrien stared at nothing with stormy eyes as Nathalie led him away.

"I'm taking her because she's exceptional, Claudette. Uh- Chloe," Audrey stated matter-of-factly, the Agrestes already forgotten.

"I'm exceptional too!" Chloe shot back.

Audrey inspected her white gloves, bored of this exchange. "The only exceptional thing about you, my dear-" Audrey deigned to glance at her daughter. "-is your mother."

Chloe's blood boiled as she shook off Andre's hands on her shoulders, standing straighter. "I'll show you how exceptional I can be!" she promised.

Just as an akuma entered Chloe's present.

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

Alya was having an amazing day!

Her livestreams hadn't gotten this many new views since she almost got sacrificed by Pharaoh. The Ladyblog's activity was up. And Ladybug chose her as the Black Cat!

Sure it was weird that Ladybug didn't want to talk about it. But still! Black Cat! Alya tried to contain her grin as she thought about being Ladybug's partner for a day...

Her pace on the sidewalk slowed, enthusiasm dampening a little... Setting her face in determination Alya skipped into gear. All the more reason to piece together what happened! And she'd start with-

A burst of yellow light shot forth from the Grand Palais. Jolting Alya out of her thoughts as the newest akuma victim gave their villain speech from the roof.

"I am Queen Glitter! And from now on the only exceptional person in Paris will be me!"

Alya ran... straight for the villain who was obviously Chloe as she summoned a cloud of glitter and shapped it into a collection of accessories. The constructs restricting the movement of whoever they landed on. Scarves wrapping people's legs together or tying them to lampposts. Hats covering people's eyes as they tried to yank them off. There was even someone with his hands stuck in high heels. Queen Glitter made a giant floating scarf to stand on and took off in a random direction; leaving a trail of gaudy accessories in her wake.

Great. It was going to take forever to catch up to her now! Taking cover in an alleyway so Queen Glitter's sparkly formal wear wouldn't notice her, Alya scanned the street. Mentally kicking herself for not having recorded the villain speech for the Ladyblog.

"Looks like you're raring to go," Ladybug observed as she landed next to Alya. A familiar box in her hand.

"Ladybug! Didn't think I'd be helping out again so soon!" Alya held out her palm and Ladybug placed the Black Cat Miraculous in her hands again.

"Y'know the drill, right?" Ladybug's eyes wandered to the people in various states of running-for-their-lives.

"Give it back when we're done and don't take it personally," Alya paraphrased as Plagg emerged in a ball of light when she placed the ring on her finger.

"Ladyblog girl again?” Plagg gave her a once over. Ears flat against his head but swishing tail betraying his apprehension. "Well, at least Alya's not blue boy."

“He wasn’t that-“ Ladybug shook her head. “Y’know what, never mind.”

Glancing between them Alya filed that tidbit away for later. "C'mon, Plagg. We did great together!"

"You were okay," Plagg acknowledged. "Could've used more cat puns."

Alya chuckled. Of course he'd like those. With a -slightly forced- encouraging smile from Ladybug, Alya called out: “Plagg, transforme-moi!”

Green lightning traveled from Chat Noir’s ring across both arms and down her torso. A green sash wrapping around her waist and trailing into a tail. Running her clawed gloves through her hair as cat ears materialized. Said hair puffing up into an afro. Armor padding her shoulders and torso. Alya flexed her fingers to get used to the feeling. Chat Ombre's suit still felt strange on her skin compared to Rena Rouge.

Ladybug leapt onto the rooftops and Chat Ombre followed her lead. Racing towards the villain while avoiding her glitter. "So what's the plan?"

"Queen Glitter is basically a reskin of Style Queen," Ladybug thought aloud.

"But without that annoying habit of turning into a cloud!" Chat Ombre supplied.

Ladybug launched her yo-yo at a pedestrian and yanked him away from Queen Glitter's constructs as they passed by. "But she can spread her power over a wider area."

"Don't worry, Ladybug. We'll be- Look out!" Alya tackled Ladybug out of the way as a trio of glittery top hats zoomed past.

"Your reign is over Ladybug and wannabe Chat Noir!" Queen Glitter announced as she floated over them. Her appearance was similar to Style Queen except her crown was even bigger and gaudier. A foux glitter scarf around her shoulders. "I don't even care if you don't give me your Miraculous! I'll simply immobilize you and take them by force!"

They evaded a flurry of coats by jumping down to the street. "Really?" Chat Ombre called out. "That all you can throw at us? A tacky outfit?"

"Wouldn't be the first time!" Ladybug agreed.

"No one ever appreciates my gifts!" Queen Glitter stomped her foot. "Fine then. Why don't we try something more expensive!" Raising her hands she lifted two cars wrapped with giant bows into the air.

Alya's eyes widened. "Oh, shi-" Chat Ombre evaded Chloe's attacks as the villain played wack-a-chat. Glitter accessories flying in and attempting to restrict their movements as well.

Ladybug wrapped one of the vehicles with her yo-yo and spun it back at Queen Glitter.

The bright red sports car hurled towards her and- She stopped it with the palm of her hand. "You'll have to do better than that if- Where'd you go!?" Queen Glitter scanned the empty street, rising higher for a better vantage point.

Chat Ombre locked eyes with her for a second before a chimney obscured her line of sight. "Somehow I don't think that bought us much time." Alya voiced as a wave of clothing rose over the city.

Ladybug spotted a strip of blue between the rooftops. Thinking quickly, Marinette grabbed Alya's hand and turned them towards the Seine. Diving into its waters with a torrent of glitter in their wake.

Queen Glitter's constructs crashed into the river and washed away with the current.

Chat Ombre made for the surface once it was clear but Ladybug pulled her back. Chat's staff in her hand and yo-yo on her face. Pointing towards the magic tool Ladybug offered it to Alya.

Nodding, Alya quickly pressed it to her lips and took a deep breath, sweet oxygen filling her lungs. Giving Ladybug a thumbs up once she didn't feel like her chest was on fire.

Grabbing her hand Ladybug led Alya further upstream until they found a boat.

Gasping the (relatively) fresh air Alya examined Chat's staff. "I didn't know it could do that."

"Yeah, the Miraculous are full of surprises. And we'll need one of our own to beat Queen Glitter. Lucky Charm!"

A spotted snorkel fell into Ladybug's hands.

"Don't we already have one of those?" Chat Ombre asked.

Ladybug's brow furrowed as she stared at it. "Yeah... Wait, Queen Glitter's powers don't work underwater!"

"So, all we need to do is get her there!" 

Ladybug glanced at a pair of recycling bins. "And I know just how to sneak up on her."

Chat Ombre grinned. She liked this plan.

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

Chat Ombre hated this plan!

It had all gone smoothly. The glitter constructs ignoring the recycling bins they used as disguises. Snake style. Chloe was dumbfounded when she saw them. Enough to let them take the elevator up to the Grand Paris' rooftop where Queen Glitter set up her makeshift throne. Giving them the opportunity to tackle her towards the Seine.

Unfortunately, Queen Glitter could make constructs of any size. Like, for example, a wide brimmed hat big enough to stretch from either bank of the Seine.

"You were going to make me wear this?" Queen Glitter held up the Lucky Charm- "No thanks!" -and struck it across her knee.

Alya winced as the villain broke Ladybug's insta-win button in half. "Please, tell me you have a plan?" Chat Ombre glanced at the spotted hero currently wrapped up in an extra long scarf just like she was. The floating constructs squeezing just a little bit more as Ladybug struggled against them. Alya tried bending her wrist to Cataclysm her restraints but her right hand was held away from the rest of her body.

"No planning! Not that it'll do you any good. I've already won! Me! Queen Glitter! MWAHAHAHAH- Do you mind? I'm trying to savour the moment!" Chloe snapped as Papillon's emblem glowed over her face.

Alya's head turned from an increasingly frantic Ladybug to the annoyed villain.

"Of course I'm going to take their Miraculous! Why wouldn't I take their Miraculous?"

"An excellent question, your Highness!"

Three pairs of eyes snapped towards the source of the unexpected voice.

"... Who the heck are you supposed to be?" Queen Glitter demanded.

"Aristos! At your service!" He bowed with a flourish, giving Alya a good look at the bee shaped comb at the base of his ponytail. Blond hair highlighted with black stripes. Goggles obscuring his face, making his green eyes hard to read despite the grin on his lips. Suit mostly yellow with black, V-shaped stripes on his torso, forearms and lower legs. Three hexagons on his chest giving the impression of honeycombs.

"No no no no no no." Ladybug stared at Aristos, not realizing that she was speaking aloud.

...Well, that can't be good, Alya thought.

"Ha! Did you really think more insects would help, Ladybug?" The villain mocked. Her constructs closing in on the interloper.

Aristos' smile took on a darker edge. "I'm not with her, your Majesty. I'm here to pledge myself to the most exceptional Queen I've ever seen! Really, where does Papillon get off talking to such a glittery figure as your Highness like that?"

Alya blinked. Really? Even Chloe wouldn't fall for-

Raising her hand the villain halted her constructs' advance. "Hmm, well at least you know how to treat royalty." Queen Glitter offered her bejeweled fingers. "I guess you can be my underling."

Ah. Right. Never underestimate the power of Chloe's ego.

The Bee, Alya was ninety-nine percent sure he was the Bee, took Chloe's offered hand and leaned down. Lips hovering over the back of her hand. "Oh! That reminds me your Highness, I have a gift for you."

Queen Glitter's eyes shone. "A present? For me? It better be the latest- Ow! I'm getting to that!" She snapped at Papillon, looking away from the Bee to glare at the absent supervillain.

Aristos removed the striped top Alya recognized as his Miraculous tool from around his waist.

"You didn't beat them! I did!"

Casually, carefully, Aristos placed his top on Queen Glitter's hand. Point against her glittering skin.

"You couldn't do it yourself so you sent me!"

"Venom," the Bee breathed.

"What was-"

Queen Glitter froze as Aristos' top glowed; his power paralyzing her. The constructs bursting into clouds of glitter. Chat Ombre landed in a crouch as her restraints vanished.

"It worked." Aristos sounded as surprised as Alya felt. "It worked! Yes! Nailed it!" He pumped his fist as relief overflowed and- Was he crying?. "Independent hero debut successful!"

"What?" Ladybug was staring at the Bee apprehensively and that didn't help Alya's nerves.

Aristos' mood instantly became more subdued. Blinking rapidly to get the water out of his eyes. "Oh, right. You're still here."

Chat Ombre tried not to take that personally. He did just save them, after all.

Ladybug stepped forward. Voice even, diplomatic. Never mind that she seemed this close to freaking out. "Listen, Aristos was it? I don't know how you found that Miraculous but you have to give it back."

His face was disturbingly neutral. "...Don't I get a 'thank you' for saving the day?"

The tension in Ladybug's shoulders wouldn't budge. "Thank you, but I really need that Miraculous back." She held out her hand.

Aristos stared at Ladybug's hand like it was something alien. Cracks appearing in his facade. "Yeah, pass."  Walking backwards, away from Ladybug and Chat Ombre, he kept them in his field of vision.

"Wh- The- Y-you can't just decide that!" Ladybug sputtered, stepping forward.

"Just did! How do I even know this Miraculous is even yours?" Aristos asked, increasing the distance between them.

Alya got the distinct impression that he was bullshitting them.

"I'm the one who lost it!"

Alya's eyes widened. "You lost a Miraculous?"

"Not helping, Chat!"

Aristos' features twitched, eyes narrowing. "Sure you say it's yours but how do I know that?"

Chat Ombre bristled at the implication. "Ladybug is the Hero of Paris!"

Aristos gave her a once-over, his expression inscrutable, but said nothing.

Wow. Rude.

"That Miraculous belongs to the G- to me."

"That's interesting because I say it belongs to me." Aristos laid a hand on his chest. "Looks like it's your word against mine. Guess which one I'm choosing?"

Ladybug's yo-yo was suddenly spinning in her hand. "I swear, I'm not gonna lose another-"

An insistent beeping from Ladybug's earrings interrupted her.

"Welp! Love to stay and dance but it looks like you two need to buzz off before your precious identities are exposed to little old me."

Why did he sound bitter? Everything about him made Alya's head spin with questions. Not least of which being how the heck someone holding the Bee Miraculous showed up in the first place.

Taking his top, Aristos hopped onto the edge of the Grand Paris' roof. "Might want to deal with her before that happens."

Alya looked to where he was pointing to see Queen Glitter still paralyzed. When she glanced back at the Bee he was gone.

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

Adrien's day sucked.

Paris Fashion Week was always a chore but this year was even worse. Despite having friends around he felt lonelier than ever. Getting to talk to Marinette only helped so much. Adrien was still expected to plaster on a smile and represent 'the brand'.

And that was before he got turned into a freaking statue!

At least it's better than mind control.

Shut up!

He did not want to see Ladybug or her new partner up close and personal! Thank you, very much! But like always what Adrien wanted didn't matter.

Imagine his surprise when a Miraculous practically falls into his lap. A familiar glow blooming in his chest against all reason as Adrien opens the box.

"Hello, my King," the unknown, bee-like kwami greets formally.

There's a turning in his stomach that Adrien tries his best to calm it. "H-hi! I'm Adrien. What's your name?"

"I am Pollen," she bowed. "Kwami of Subjection. An honor to meet you. It has been a long time since I've had a king."

"Just Adrien is fine." Taking the Miraculous, a comb of all things, out of it's box Adrien stares at it. It's disguise all black and only vaguely shaped like a bee compared to the details he glimpsed before Pollen came out.

"Of course, my King."

Adrien sighed. Pollen was nothing like Plagg. Then again, Adrien wasn't sure the world could survive two of him. The lazy little jerk was enough to drive any Guardian mad all by himself... God, he missed Plagg.

"Um, anyway, how does your power work?"

Pollen clapped her small appendages together. "It's very straightforward, my King. You simply call out 'Venom' and your top will activate. Then strike your opponent with the point and they'll be paralyzed for however long you desire." She whooshed toward him for emphasis.

"Paralyze..." That was certainly more straightforward than using Cataclysm.

'Cause you sucked at that, didn't you?

Shut up. This was... What was he doing? When Adrien held the Bee in his hands he felt... Alive. Like a promise that things could be better this time around.

Adrien jumped as insistent knocking on his changing room door startled him out of his thoughts.

"M. Agreste? Mme. Sancoeur says we're back on in five."

"Be right out!" Brushing the Miraculous with his thumb to make sure it was really there Adrien placed it in his pocket. Hesitating for a moment he offered his jacket to Pollen.

Nodding, she zoomed into Plagg's old hiding place.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien opened the door. "Let's get this over with."

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

Adrien ran off as soon as Papillon's mark appeared on Chloe's face. Catching Marinette doing the same from the corner of his eye. Glass raining down as Queen Glitter broke through the Grand Palais' roof.

Pollen zipping out as he tied his hair into a makeshift ponytail. Holding it in place with the Bee Miraculous.

"Quickly, my King! Say 'Pollen, transforme-moi'!"

Adrien stared at her. He could hear screaming as people ran.

"My King!"

His oldest friend just got akumatized for the second time.

"My King!"

All he had to do was speak!

"Adrien!"

His knees shook as his back hit the wall behind him for support. "But... I wasn't chosen."

Pollen floated higher as her eyes widened in surprise. "Weren't you given my Miraculous?"

Adrien shook his head. "I f-found it... After giving up the Black Cat."

This time Pollen dipped as she nearly fell out of the air. "Chat Noir."

Adrien shook his head even more emphatically. Hands going up to cover his face. "N-no! Not him! Can't be him!" he choked.

Pollen laid her hand on his and Adrien tensed at the touch. "My King."

Something in her voice made Adrien look at her.

"You wish to help, do you not?"

"... Yes."

Pollen's eyes softened. "Then help."

Adrien stared at her. So sure that she'd want nothing to do with him once she knew what a failure he was... But that wasn't the case.

Rising shakily to his feet Adrien gave Pollen a grateful smile. "Pollen, transforme-moi'."

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

Aristos panted as he glanced up from the alleyway. Spotting no pursuers. "Pollen, detransforme-moi."

Landing on Adrien's outstretched palms, Pollen beamed tiredly at him. "Excellent work, my King."

Adrien smiled back. "Oh! What do you eat? Plagg loves Camembert but..."

"That would be fine. However, I prefer something sweeter."

"Yeah..." A weight settled on his chest. "Let's see what we can find..."

Pollen frowned. "Is something wrong, my King?"

Adrien avoided her gaze. What was he supposed to say? That disobeying Ladybug felt wrong? That he almost let his guilt and resentment make him say cruel things to his replacement? That his heart wouldn't stop pounding? "It's just... Do you want to go back?"

Pollen blinked.

"You're supposed to listen to the Guardian, right?" Adrien bit his lip as his heart tried jumping up his throat. "It's not fair of me to keep you if you want to go back."

Pollen sat up on his palms. "I have been in the Miracle Box for a long time, my King. I can think of worse things than spending what time I have outside it with you."

Adrien's eyes burned as he wiped away tears. "Thanks, Pollen."

Ladybugs swirled in the sky as they repaired the city.

"Of course, my King," Pollen smiled.

"Call me Adrien."

"Yes, my King."

Adrien sighed. A smile coming to his lips. Looks like Aristos was sticking around for a while.

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

Retroactively giving Black Cat Alya an afro.

[evolutionsvoid]

Before I had even started this trip, I already had the worry of getting lost. Driving for hours on end through places I had never even heard of, it seemed inevitable. Despite that, I had no other choice but to go. What life I had here was gone, and staying would only have me stewing in the rotten memories and people that plagued me. Though this opportunity was a weak one, it was my only shot out of here. So I packed up my meager things and drove off into the unknown. Best to take my chances out there, then remain in this prison a minute longer. My anxiety born from this journey drove me to prepare for every possible scenario. The biggest worry was getting lost on the way there, but with a mountain of maps, a GPS and a folder of addresses, numbers and contacts, I figured I would be safe. After all, once you get into the barren countryside of flat fields and endless dirt, all you had to do was pick a road in the right direction and drive. I needed to go west, so that was what I did. I drove on for hours, but it felt like I had hardly moved. What a strange feeling it was, to travel hundreds of miles and see absolutely nothing. This trip was supposed to be a transformation, a needed change for me to finally regain control of my life. Yet, I felt no joy or wonder. I guess I was expecting to encounter breathtaking landmarks and travel through strange new places, evidence that the world was bigger than my ignorant little hometown. Instead, I drove through a flattened world of grass, corn, dirt and the occasional pathetic tree. Not exactly the scenery that inspires awe. This repetitive land was probably the reason why things turned out this way, as it was impossible to get a bearing when everything looked the same. Hours had passed since I turned onto that empty road, and yet I failed to notice that things were not right. I ignored the fact that I hadn't seen a single street sign the entire time, or that there were no forks or splits to be found. To be fair, it was long into the night, so most of the blank landscape was smothered by the darkness. I just held onto the idea that I was almost to the next town, if you could all any of these places that. What little civilization I had seen was a sad collection of wore down store fronts, crumbling bars and ancient gas stations. They sat in clumps along these forgotten roads, sharing much with the greasy roadkill that was spattered on the asphalt. Pathetic as these places were, I still yearned for them as I drove down that endless road. Surely one had to be nearby, I just needed to go a few more miles. I followed this delusion for quite some time, pretending that the lack of signs or markers wasn't something to be concerned about. Eventually, I just had to give up. With the clock on my dash showing some obscenely late time, I knew I needed to pull over to collect my thoughts. Looking over my supplies, I found my GPS worthless and the maps just as useless. With no service or any indicators that could help me pinpoint my position, these intricate foldouts might has well have been blank. It was then that I realized that I wasn't lost, as it felt like it was something far worse. When one is stranded in a place they don't know, one of the biggest issues is the overwhelming amount of options. Be it the woods or some unknown city, you are faced with many directions and choices, but you have no clue where any of them lead. Do I go north or south? Do I take the parkway or the back roads? Which exit on the roundabout gets me going the right way? With all this, it is obvious why clueless people wind up going in circles. That was what I considered being "lost" was. This, was something quite different. I didn't have a ludicrous amount of options, rather, I only had two. Go forward or back. The problem was that both choices felt wrong. The path forward had no hope or potential, no signs that suggested anything was to be found up ahead. That choice led to an unknown future, but it seemed more enticing than turning back. Though I didn't know what lay ahead, I did know what was behind me: absolutely nothing. Turning around would mean driving a countless amount of hours until found out where civilization had stopped, but I had no clue where or when that was. I would just be retracing my steps through a known wasteland, losing both time and gas. In the end, the unknown path ahead seemed more comforting. Surely I was bound to run into something eventually, even if it was a rusty road sign or some hermit's shack. Though my mind was made up, I chose not to continue just yet. I was drained of all energy, and I knew it was a poor choice to drive in such condition. It was the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, so what harm was there to grabbing a quick nap? Perhaps sleeping until the sun returned was a good choice. Daylight could reveal clues about my whereabouts, ones that were currently blotted out by the dark. A rested mind would also work way better, and it would probably solve this problem in a second. So I made sure my car was properly off the road before I turned it off. I locked the doors and leaned my seat back as far as I could. It wasn't long after I closed my eyes that my exhausted body finally received some reprieve.   I awoke awkwardly, as if some unremembered dream or nightmare had snapped me from my slumber. It was still night, though I didn't know how much time had passed. I looked at my phone, but my groggy mind couldn't interpret the numbers it showed. I tried to stretch my limbs in the cramped space, but it gave very little relief. My drowsy state made me think that I had only dozed off for a few minutes, as I sure didn't feel any better. Perhaps this cluttered, stuffy car wasn't the best place to get some beauty rest. I figured I would try to go back to sleep, as my options at the moment seemed just as bad as before. As I wriggled around in an attempt to get comfortable, my eyes looked out into the night and saw it. It was funny how strange it seemed at that moment, though I knew fully well what it was. The slow flash of a yellow light, a sight I was quite familiar with, but my tired brain struggled to understand it. I leaned forward for a better look, but it didn't help in the slightest. With my car turned off, the world was pitch black, save for the errant star and that pulsing light. It sat way off in the distance, but there was no mistaking what it was. It took me a second to understand that this was a good sign. A human construct like this suggested civilization, and also a cross road. Perhaps up ahead was where I could find some identifying signs or directions to a nearby town. With sluggish joy, I went to turn on my car and pursue this miracle, but then the thought struck me from out of the blue. How come I didn't see this before? Sure, I was tired and disoriented at the time, but a bright yellow light blinking in a dark void seemed impossible to ignore. I had sat in this spot for a good while before I had decided to get some rest, so how come I didn't see it then? As I struggled to properly answer this question, I looked to the light and noticed something odd. Looking at it now, after a few minutes of gathering myself, it seemed to be bigger. It flashed brighter and larger than before, but perhaps it was just my imagination. I sat there for a moment and soon confirmed that this was no illusion. The light seemed to be getting closer to me. I looked to my dashboard, thinking I had accidentally put the car in neutral and I was slowly rolling forward. The little arrow pointed firmly on the P, so that couldn't be the answer. When I looked back up, the light was nearly blinding. It also seemed to bob and sway about, as if blown about by a weak breeze. The realization that it was the one moving froze me in my seat. I had no clue what it was or what was happening, so panic took over and short-circuited my body. A turned into a statue in the front seat and only stared with wide, terrified eyes. I did nothing but watch as the light bobbed closer, until it was at last upon me. At first I believed it to be heading right towards me, but in those few horrified moments, I saw it walking upon the very road I had traveled. It strolled down the middle, treading upon the cracked asphalt and faded lines. When the light came perpendicular to the front of me car, I at last could see what it was. I recognized the three colored traffic light that hung over every nearly every road, but the rest of it refused to be understood. I saw a metallic skeleton, built of rebar and steel. It bent and twisted into a bizarre lattice, creating limbs and body from an iron spider's web.  It walked upon four legs, and the blinding light hung from a long, arching neck. Something black and wet hung in clumps from its body, creating a sticky cloak over its wiry bones. As I sat frozen in terror, the metallic beast strolled down the road. It walked with slow tired steps, its blinking head hung low. Though it was clearly no creature of flesh, it made me thinking of an exhausted horse, weary from a long day's work. It didn't approach my car, it just kept walking by. It was only when it was passing my driver window that it paused. It stopped in its march and slowly turned its pulsing head towards my vehicle. I could not tell if it was looking at the car or me, but I clearly caught its attention. It gazed at me with a single yellow eye. Above and below sat the green and red, but they remained dark and cracked, like eyes that had long gone blind. It made no move, it just sat there for a moment to watch. After a few seconds, it sadly lifted its legs and continued on its march. The bobbing light continued down that endless road, the blinking growing weaker as it went deeper into the night. I sat there until that yellow light grew small in my mirror, becoming just another star in the darkened sky. I didn't know what to do, or even think about it. Though it showed no aggression, I dared not turn around and pursue it. Instead, I simply turned the car on and pulled back onto the road. I gave up on any thought or reasoning, my mind refused to accept what I had seen. I just got into that dusty old lane and began to drive onwards... -------------------------------------------- “Caution” A design I came up with a way back, which fittingly enough was around the time I went on my roadtrip. I think it came to be through a mashup of traffic signs and weird art sculptures.

[krisdreaming]

PART 3 | A PREDICAMENT

｢ Masterlist ｣

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

Summary: Somehow, you ended up agreeing to bring your non-existent boyfriend to the family Christmas gathering at your grandparents’. Your chem lab partner and fast friend, Kuroo Tetsurou, agrees to play the part. Your developing feelings for him won’t cause any problems, right?

WC: 2.6k

A/N: I won’t be posting for this fic next Saturday, so the next part (part 4) will post on December 26!

A smol guide to reader’s cousins (all ocs who aren’t really developed at all aside from their names which I stole from other anime hkdljf), listed from oldest to youngest, though I don’t really have exact ages in mind:

Mikoto Kyoka <Reader is here in my head> Setsuna (Mikoto’s younger sister) Takashi (the twins older brother) twins - tbh i didn’t name them bc they’re the youngest and not really relevant lmao i’ll probably just refer to them as “the twins” (they’re boys btw)

Basically I needed to name them bc it was getting confusing... sorry if it’s weird!

The entire drive to your grandparents’ house, you find your eyes drifting to your rear view mirror and Kuroo’s headlights reflected in it. You’d left school in the late afternoon, and by now the sun has begun to sink below the horizon and dusk is beginning to fall. You have fond memories of arriving at their house for Christmas after darkness has fallen, seeing the warm glow of the lights in their windows drawing closer and being ushered inside from the cold winter darkness to their bright, sweet-smelling home.

This year is a little different - Kuroo will be with you, experiencing those familiar sights and sounds and smells for the first time. Your gut is absolutely twisting, and you grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Now is not the time to have second thoughts or wonder if it’s too late to call the whole thing off. For now, your focus has to be on making sure your family believes Kuroo is actually your boyfriend. If you seem happy, they’ll be happy. You glance once more in your rear view mirror. Convincing them of that may not be as difficult as you think.

By the time you pull into the driveway, you’ve managed to push most of the doubts from your mind. The cold air that hits your face as you step out of your warm car is a welcome distraction, and you fill your lungs with it. Next to you, Kuroo’s car door opens and he steps out, reaching into the backseat for his duffle bag.

“Here we are!” You chirp, spreading your arms in a flourish as he closes the car door. He looks at the house, then turns to smile at you.

“Looks really nice,” He nods as you pop the trunk, reaching for your suitcase. “Let me get it,” He reaches around you and grabs it. You’re startled for a few moments, but all it takes is a quirk of his eyebrow for everything to fall into place. It would be weird if you didn’t let your boyfriend carry your bag for you.

“If one of us is going to blow this, it’s going to be me,” You breathe with a nervous chuckle, and he shakes his head.

“Won’t let that happen,” He assures you, gesturing for you to lead the way. He follows you up the walk, and the moment you reach for the door knob, it swings open on its own. Behind it, your grandmother is waiting to greet you, hands clasped in front of herself with a giant smile on her face. For a split second, you almost feel guilty that none of this is real.

“Merry Christmas!” She pulls you into a tight hug, and you breathe in the familiar scents of rose and sugar cookies. “Come in, come in.” She releases you and is immediately locked on Kuroo, who has a sheepish smile on his face.

“Oh my,” She looks up at him with the huge grin still on her face, “Aren’t you quite the handsome young man! Just look at how tall he is!” Behind her, your parents appear as she’s gathering him into a hug. You try to hold in a snicker as he drops the bags beside him, folding himself awkwardly to return the hug.

“Thank you for having me, ma’am,” He says as he’s released from her grip, prompting a pleased hum.

“Grandma,” You finally break in to say, “Mom and Dad,” You turn to your parents who are both eyeing Kuroo curiously. Your father, especially, seems to be sizing him up. “This is Kuroo Tetsurou,” He lifts his hand in greeting, “My boyfriend,”  You add, feeling your cheeks grow hot at saying the words out loud. Your mother meets your gaze with a small smile.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Your father reaches out and catches Kuroo’s hand in a firm handshake.

“It’s great to meet you too, sir.” Your father must approve of the handshake, because he gives Kuroo a nod and a smile. “And it’s nice to meet you, L/N-san,” He reaches for your mother’s hand next. Your grandmother wraps her arm around your middle and squeezes you into her side.

“Oh, what a polite young man,” She whispers in your ear loudly enough for the others to hear, “It looks like you’ve found a good one.”

You watch Kuroo greet your grandfather who’s finally wandered into the room. “I think so,” You agree, sharing a smile with your grandmother. It comes out more easily than you expect.

“Alright,” She brings her hands together in front of her, interrupting the chatter. “Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes, so let me show these two to their room so they can get rid of their bags.” She waves you and Kuroo along, and you follow her up the stairs.

Every year, you stay in your mom’s old room. You’ve always loved envisioning your mother spending time there when she was a little girl. This year, an added bonus of the room is the extra futon that’s always folded up in the corner. When your grandmother opens the door, your eyes immediately go to that corner and find it empty. A quick glance around the room reveals that the futon is nowhere to be seen.

“I got it all ready for you,” Your grandma says brusquely, bustling inside and fluffing the pillows on the bed as she talks, “I think you two will be very cozy in here.”

“Where’s the futon?” You blurt out, and she chuckles with a wave of her hand.

“I had to put it in the basement. Now that the twins are older, they won’t share one anymore. Not to worry,” She pats your shoulder, “I know you’re all grown up now. Is everything alright for you two?” She looks expectantly between the two of you, and you swallow back your panic before pasting on a smile. A glance at Kuroo reveals that he’s remarkably unphased, at least outwardly. It sets you just a bit more at ease. You’ll figure this out.

“Looks great, Grandma. Thanks.” You let your bag drop to the floor, and she takes it as her cue to leave.

“Dinner is ready any minute, so get your things situated and come down,” She says over her shoulder as she heads out of the room, pulling the door against the latch behind her. You look over to Kuroo, who’s glancing around the room.

“I swear there’s usually a futon in here,” You say quickly, and he shrugs.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t mind.” You open your mouth, then close it, because you aren’t quite sure what to say. “I’m used to it,” He assures you. You aren’t quite convinced, but you don’t know how to refuse without making whatever this is even weirder.

You finally decide on, “We’ll figure something out at bedtime,” and reach for the door. “Ready to eat?”

“Since we left school,” He laughs, following you out of the room and down the stairs. “Bring it on.”

The meal is nothing too fancy. On the first evening, when everyone is still arriving and getting settled in, there’s normally just a spread of quick bites and snacks. When your plates are filled, you find seats at the table set up for all of your cousins. They aren’t shy about introducing themselves to Kuroo, and it shouldn’t surprise you how easily he slips into conversation with them. You’re all talking and laughing in no time, and it feels almost natural.

“Say Y/N, how did you manage to land someone like him, anyway?” Your oldest cousin Mikoto laughs from beside you with a jab of his elbow in your ribs. You rub at the spot and stick your tongue out at him, buying time while his girlfriend reprimands him.

“Would you believe he’s my Chem lab partner?” You jab him back with a smirk.

He snorts, “I find it hard to believe you wowed him with your brains.” That earns a burst of laughter from the group. “Was there bribery involved?”

“Actually, I think it was probably my brains,” Kuroo says smugly, his chin hovering over your shoulder. You resist the urge to smack the grin off his face and settle for swatting his arm. “I’m pretty much carrying this one’s grade, y’know,” He jerks his thumb in your direction.

“Please,” You roll your eyes, falling easily into the banter with him, “One look at our last test scores will tell you it’s the other way around.” He shrugs.

“I’ll let you think whatever you want,” He says primly, lifting a chip to his mouth as he dodges a second swat. This, at least, feels very familiar. As the laughter around you dies down, the conversation shifts again, and you’re content to sit and soak in the chatter.

When the meal is over, the cousins all migrate to the living room. Every year for as long as you can remember, on your first night together for Christmas, you’ve watched Elf. It’s one of your favorite traditions.

“Where’s the DVD?”

“I think Grandpa hid the remote again.”

“I know we literally just ate but could anyone else eat popcorn?”

It’s a little loud and a little disorganized, but you’re happy just to be here with them again. Every year the group grows a little bigger with significant others added to the mix, and this year Kuroo is the only new face. You lean in close to him and murmur, “Doing alright?” He’s been quiet, just taking everything in.

“Yeah, great,” He replies in a low voice, offering you a lopsided smile. “I don’t think I can remember anyone’s names though.”

“You’ll get there,” You assure him, giving his shoulder a pat.

“Lights! Someone turn out the lights!” There’s a scramble, and soon the only light in the room is the glow of the tree and the flickering TV screen.

“Psst! Y/N, sit down!” Someone hisses. You roll your eyes and plop down in front of the couch, leaning back against it. Setsuna nudges your shoulder with her foot, then grins at you when you turn to stick out your tongue at her. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see her brother and his girlfriend tucked into the corner of the couch. She’s pressed in against his side, and he has his arm around her. Kyoka and her girlfriend are squished almost comically onto the recliner, but they don’t seem to mind the tangle of legs.

Suddenly, you’re all too aware of Kuroo next to you. His arm is pressed against yours, and you try not to sit too stiffly. No one seems to be paying much attention to you as the movie begins, but you still can’t help but wonder if this is convincing anyone.

As if he’d read your mind, you feel Kuroo’s hand inch closer to yours. With a glance your way, he loops his fingers loosely over yours, slipping his pinkie alongside yours in a gesture similar to his pinkie promise last week. You lean in just a little closer.

As the movie plays, you feel the busyness of the day catching up to you. The familiar scenes on screen are lulling you into a drowsy state of half-sleep, and you hardly think about it before you let your head come to rest on his shoulder. He stills for a few moments, but then he rests his cheek on top of your head. You don’t move until the credits start rolling and everyone around you starts to stir.

“Aww,” You hear someone coo behind you as your cousins slowly start to stand up and disperse. When the lights turn on, you sit up straight and squint into the sudden brightness, blinking blearily at Kuroo who winks at you so quickly you think you might have imagined it. He stands to his feet with a groan and extends his hand, grabbing yours and pulling you to your feet.

Around you, there’s a chorus of good-nights as everyone heads off to get ready for bed. You turn to Kuroo and brace yourself for what’s coming. “You ready for bed?” Even as you ask, he’s stifling a yawn behind his fingers.

“Yeah,” He nods with a chuckle, “That movie really conked me out. Didn’t realize I was so tired.” He follows you up the stairs, and the two of you gather your things for bed in silence. By the time you’ve taken turns using the bathroom down the hall, he has a makeshift bed made up on the floor. He has comforters and pillows piled up, but you still can’t help but think how uncomfortable it looks.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can see if there’s an air mattress or something.” You would feel awful if you didn’t at least offer.

“How suspicious would that be?” He laughs. “I told you, I’m fine. I used to sleep on the floor at Kenma’s all the time. It’s no big deal.”

“Alright,” You say slowly, crawling under the covers. Up until now, things have felt fairly normal, but something about seeing him lying there on the floor next to you reminds you how strange this whole situation really is. “Regret this yet?” You ask softly, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can see his expression.

“Nah,” He says with a wave of his hand. “I’m having a good time. Honestly. Your cousins are a riot.” You shake your head with a smile, but you can’t deny it. “I’m actually thinking of offering this as a service,” You feel your smile falter as a strange twinge fills your middle. You know it’s just another one of his jokes, but something about it makes you prickle. “Don’t worry, yours is the trial, so there’s no charge.”

You laugh to appease him more than anything. “Sounds like an easy way to earn some cash,” You say lightly, hoping he can’t sense anything off about you. “Ready to turn the light off?”

“Yup,” He nods, and you reach over to flick the lamp off. “Night.”

You echo him, then turn onto your back, staring up at the ceiling with the few leftover glow-in-the-dark stars that haven’t peeled off. You really had been sleepy during the movie, but now that you’re in bed, you feel wide awake. You can’t help but mull over Kuroo’s comment. Sometimes he’s impossible to read. You know this is more than just a joke to him – he’s proven that much already. He’s a good friend, and that’s not something you want to lose over something like this. With a sigh, you turn on your side.

“Hey, Kuroo,” You whisper, “You asleep?”

“Yes,” His teasing response is immediate.

“You can’t tell me that you’re comfortable down there,” You say softly. “So just come lay in the bed.”

He’s silent for so long that you start to wonder if he really is asleep. Just when you’re about to roll over, he speaks up again. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, dummy.” You say, huffing out a soft chuckle. You hear him gather up his pillows and blanket and make his way around the bed. You can feel it dip beside you, but he’s careful to leave nearly a foot of space between you.

“Thanks,” He hums under his breath. You don’t reply, but you smile into the darkness. Even though you aren’t touching, you can just feel his warmth next to you. It isn’t long before your eyes slide shut.

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 1

sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

☘  genre | angst, exes au

☘  summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

☘  word count | 4k

☘  rating | PG-13

☘  warnings | some fairly heavy angst, breakup

☘  a/n | ok SO I’m finally working on a multi-chap for the first time in forever :o and ofc this is the first series that i’m working on in this blog! alsooo am kinda ashamed to admit that i’ve actually NEVER finished a series ever 🙈🙈 sooo this is a challenge from me @ myself 🤭 so yes come along with me for this ride hahahah and pls kick my butt if i leave this series as another one in the unfinished pile

You can have Manhattan, ‘cause I can’t have you -- Sara Bareilles, Manhattan

Pulling your jacket around you a little tighter to keep the bite of the night air at bay and hitching your duffel bag a little higher up your shoulder, you board the bus. The bus conductor asks for your ticket and you let go of it for the first time since you bought it, giving him the flimsy paper that’s now imprinted with the shape of your thumb under the stress of your tight grip as you held onto it like a lifeline. After a quick inspection, he passes it back to you and you take it from him wordlessly.

“Hey.” You look up at the conductor in surprise, gaze finally torn from where it had remained on the ground all this time. “You alright?”

You don’t allow yourself to consider the question lest the tears come and you cause a bigger scene than you already have. With a tight-lipped smile that probably isn’t fooling anyone, you nod at him, and traipse to the back of the bus before he can probe any further.

The comfort of the back corner of the bus brings you the tiniest smidge of relief, especially after you place your duffel bag on the seat next to you, creating a barrier between you and the rest of the bus. Not that there would be many people, if any at all, at such a late timing. Nonetheless, the little bubble created by your makeshift barricade brings you some security as you settle into your chosen seat gingerly, as if you would shatter to pieces if your movements were too rough. Your emotional state sure feels that way, fragile and on the brink of falling apart any time now.

You’re not sure how much time passes before the bus doors finally shut and it begins pulling out of the bay. It carries a sense of finality. You’re really going home. The cityscape, drenched in the black and orange hues of nightfall, goes past as you watch through the window- slowly at first, then becoming a blur as the vehicle picks up in speed. The plans you had for the weekend are now truncated and left behind with the city.

The emptiness hits you once again when the bus pulls onto the freeway and the city sights are completely gone. Only the inky black of the night sky accompanies you now. You are alone. On this bus, yes, but in more ways than that too. You let that fact sink in.

It’s too dangerous to let your thoughts overtake you right now, so you occupy yourself by playing Sudoku puzzles on your phone, which has strategically been placed on airplane mode. The methodical problem-solving that the puzzle requires of you submerges your mind in a sea of numbers. Which is your intention. And before you know it, the bus is slowing down and you look up from your device to the familiar scenery of your hometown. On any other day, it would fill you with warmth, but right now it doesn’t.

Now having arrived at your destination, you gather your belongings and alight from the bus. It’s just a daypack and your duffel bag which is bursting at the seams with how many items you crammed into it. You would have brought a suitcase if you knew, but how were you to predict the events of tonight? Though, you surmise, you should have seen it coming and could have prepared yourself better.

You’re trudging home and you’re maybe ten minutes away when it begins raining. Great. As if this day could get any worse. It makes your clothes stick to you in that cloying way and the chill from the night has you shivering almost violently now. But you plough on home, only focusing on getting one foot in front of the other and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Finally at your front door, it’s a struggle to get the key in the door with how badly your hand is shaking. Whether it’s from the cold or something else, you’re not sure anymore at this point. After countless tries, you finally manage to jam it in and turn it quickly so you can just get into the safety of your home.

The noise that results from the way you throw your duffel bag and daypack down, your rain-soaked jacket quickly following suit to form a messy, wet heap in the middle of the entryway, announces your arrival. Hoseok pops his head out from the archway that leads to the living room, the sounds probably interrupting his late-night Netflix binge.

“____?” You can hear the concern in his voice, and you refuse to look at him, instead focusing on wrenching your sodden shoes off of your tired feet. “Where’s Joonie?”

The mention of his name causes something like a switch to flip in you. Your brain finally, finally catches up with reality, and the numbness you lulled yourself into for the past few hours dissipates just like the pricking of a balloon. It leaves you gasping in pain, the way the emotions suddenly come flooding through you. The hurt viciously demands to be felt.

With a shaky exhale, you look Hoseok in the eye. The gravity of tonight’s events finally cements itself in your brain and the tears you’d been holding back come spilling out uncontrollably as you mumble your next words out brokenly.

“We broke up.”

It’s been weeks since you and Namjoon broke up. The constant cloud of desolation that plagued your every waking moment in the immediate aftermath of the breakup has finally eased up somewhat.

Being a high school senior turned out to be a lifebuoy in some ways, giving you solid things to cling onto in the midst of your emotions of loss and confusion. It’s not healthy, you know, but the academic content provided a sense of constancy that you sorely needed and the rigor of it all kept your mind from wandering too far into the depths of your sorrow.

Yet you knew this could only go on for so long. At some point, these emotions will eat you up from the inside out if not acknowledged and sorted out. Pain is just like that, it will gnaw at you with subtlety but with certainty. Repressing the feelings is just simply unsustainable.

You’re really lucky to have an older brother like Hoseok. That first night, when you finally broke down and let the tears turn into sobs that wracked through your entire being, he’d quickly gathered you up into his arms and had given you a shoulder to cry on. God knows how long you spent in that state bawling seemingly endlessly, but Hoseok had let you just get it all out without asking any questions, the immensity of his patience and quiet strength of his presence lending you a pillar of support that you desperately needed at the time. Later that night, when you were showered and tucked in warm under the covers, you watched through puffy eyes as he unpacked your belongings from your duffel bag and carefully wiped them dry or chucked them into the laundry basket as was appropriate.

When he reached for your daypack, you stopped him. You were barely able to croak out your opposition, your throat raw and wrecked from the earlier barrage of emotions. Still, Hoseok caught it, and nodded empathetically. He respected your wishes for privacy and only wiped the exterior of your daypack down before leaving it in the corner of your room.

And in the corner it remained. Aside from your absolute necessities, which was really just your keys and your wallet, you’d procrastinated unpacking your daypack. Till now, that is.

Not that there was much to unpack anyway. Most of the possessions you’d retrieved from Namjoon’s dorm room that night had been hastily dumped into your duffel bag in the single-minded mission to get out of there as soon as possible. You know exactly what items remain in the daypack- a bottle of water, a pair of shades, some chapstick, surprise tickets you’d bought online to a movie from that fateful weekend that went unused, and an envelope tucked away safely in the inner pocket of the bag.

The daypack and its contents weighed on your mind the same way it sat in the corner of your room- silent, untouched, yet unbudging. It’s plain silly how afraid you’ve been to confront these items, items that are inanimate and void of meaning apart from what you yourself have ascribed to them. In an attempt to hold off the full brunt of your misery, somehow you’d deluded yourself into thinking that leaving the daypack as it is would preserve things as they once were. You lived in self-denial, as if the breakup had not happened. As if the weekend trip just had not taken place at all, and was waiting to happen instead. The daypack was waiting for you to sling it over your shoulders as you head jovially out the door to the city and to the arms of your boyfriend.

But no. You heave out a sigh. Things have changed. You and Namjoon are no longer together. Holding onto a delusion is ridiculous, and you need to move on. And the first step to doing that is to get rid of this centerpiece that your fantasy revolves around.

The items in the bag get dumped onto the carpeted ground of your room unceremoniously as you unzip the daypack, turn it upside down, and shake out the contents. Whatever mystique you’ve built up around these simple items is now shattered as they lay scattered on the floor. The shades and chapstick return to your dressing table, the bottle of water and expired movie tickets get dumped out. And the envelope… you throw it into your desk drawer and slam it shut before the temptation to tear it open overtakes you.

That was the first of many letters that were written, but never got sent.

You never intended to make it a thing. It just… happened one day. Staying focused on school and college applications could only provide so much distraction from the whirling emotions bottled up inside you. No matter how tightly you attempted to keep a lid on it, wistful nostalgia still crept up uninvited.

And naturally so. This neighborhood, your high school, heck even your own house is filled with the ghost of the memory of him. Namjoon had been a significant presence in your life before he was even really yours. You still remember the day Hoseok brought his newfound friend home, Namjoon’s lips pressed tightly together in his attempts to keep his sniffles and tears in, his knees scraped, bruised, and bleeding from what looked like a pretty hard fall on the playground.

“Mum!” Hoseok had called out. “I need band aids!”

“Hello,” Namjoon mumbled when your mum came hurrying out of the kitchen to see what was wrong. “Sorry to be a bother.”

Namjoon had always been a klutz, but it was his clumsiness that had birthed the close friendship between him and Hoseok. After one too many accidents on the playground, Namjoon had been too scared to go home to face the inevitable reprimanding that would come. Hoseok had offered to patch him up at yours instead, and the camaraderie that arose from that incident had sealed their friendship as an unbreakable one. Unfortunately, as big as Hoseok’s heart was, his little seven-year-old hands were not the gentlest. From your spot at the top of the staircase, peering through the grills, you saw how Namjoon winced at Hoseok dabbing antiseptic on his knees, and you came bounding down the steps to rescue the stranger that sat on your family’s sofa and that had somehow wormed his way into a soft spot in your heart with his teary pout.

“Hoseok,” you demanded, your tiny hand outstretched and waiting, voice tinged with petulance. “Give me.”

Hoseok relinquished the first aid items to you and watched as you cleaned his new friend up, your brow furrowed in careful focus, little hands fumbling but your touch delicate. After you applied the twin band aids on both of Namjoon’s knees with all the meticulousness that a five-year-old could muster up, you patted his thigh and smiled at him.

“All done!” you declared. And you’d never forget the sight of his dimpled smile beaming up at you in response.

If only you could. You shake your head, as if it would shake the memories away. The paper before you on your desk remains as blank as it was twenty minutes ago when you sat down to get started on revision. But having known Namjoon for over a decade made it too easy for you to just get swept away by the deluge of memories of him. You tried to keep it in, but it kept leaking out. And perhaps that’s what you need- to just let it out.

The first touch of the pen to paper has you pausing, wondering how you were even supposed to start. But the moment you begin- Dear Namjoon, - everything comes spilling out in prose. Hardly having to pause what with the way your thoughts just keep flooding out onto the paper, the inked words flowing out in streams, you finally let go of the firm grip you’d kept on your feelings up till now and express your frustration, your loss, your confusion all out in one huge cathartic spew. You write till you feel emotionally dry, but in a satisfying way, chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks. But as your ballpoint pen swirls the complimentary closing- Sincerely Yours- you can’t help but laugh at the sardonic humor embedded in it. The sincerity in your words is irrefutable. But you’re no longer his.

Folding it up and sealing it away in an envelope, you chuck the letter into your desk drawer where it joins its predecessor. Now with a clearer mind, and a renewed focus and vigor, you’re finally able to set to work on the mountain of revision materials that await you.

The first letter was a gushing myriad of feelings. But the subsequent letters solidified into one obviously discernible emotion- anger.

Once you came to terms with the fact that he’s not coming back, and that he basically threw away the relationship, it had you boiling mad. How much had you sacrificed for this relationship?! You’d basically shuttled back and forth between your hometown and the city almost every other weekend to visit him on campus, juggling your family and your grades and your friends back home and college applications just to make your long-distance relationship work. And how did he repay your efforts? By withdrawing from you and refusing to talk things out despite your gentle, persistent probing. You’d heard that he’d been in a slump and confused about the future- Hoseok, while his best friend, was your brother after all- but you’d never imagined he’d be confused about you.

And so you took your rage out on paper once again, your words harsh as you wrote candidly. It’s not like he’d ever get to see it anyway.

But anger is tiring. After penning a few letters full of scathing lines you’d never have the guts to actually spit out in person, your wrath was quelled and soon gave way to grief.

In the same way with your anger, you chose not to deny your sadness, but leaned into it instead. The end of your relationship was something worth mourning, you decided, and you let yourself embrace the sorrow fully and deeply. It was especially difficult knowing that he was still in contact with Hoseok, while you had been completely cut out of his life. But you can’t blame either of them- you can’t demand that they revoke their friendship over what happened between you and Namjoon, nor would you ever desire for that to happen. Hoseok, on his part, managed it to the best he could, taking his phone calls in a room separate from you. But you can’t control the wave of dejection that runs through you whenever you spy Namjoon’s name on his caller ID.

You’re used to the routine by now. Whenever the emotions get too overwhelming, whenever there’s just too much that you want to say to him but that you can’t, you engage in the therapeutic act of writing your letters. Then you seal them up, and chuck them away, out of sight and out of mind. The grief gets easier to deal with too, especially with the excitement of receiving college acceptance letters and your high school graduation date that’s drawing closer and closer.

Of course, that in itself brings its own strand of sadness too, as you imagine having to separate from your friends and family and leave your childhood home behind. But the notion of getting to carve out the path to your future leaves a giddy anticipation that overshadows all other feelings.

And in that strange, paradoxical way that time seems to pass in- every hour ticking by so slowly, but the weeks whizzing by in the blink of an eye- it’s just as your five-year-old self had once proclaimed, “All done!”

Your life now packed into boxes that are piled into the car, one last check of your room to ensure that nothing important is left behind, a final look at the place you called home for all your life up to now, and you’re off to college. As you watch the sight of your neighborhood through the rearview mirror pull further and further away till it disappears entirely, you know you’re leaving tons of memories behind. Memories of Namjoon, yes, but also memories of your growing up years with your family and friends who have made you into who you are today, able to venture out and face the world with courage and confidence.

Maybe it’s that experience of individuation that has you finally accepting it. No more whirlpool of emotions, no more anger, no more grief, no more emptiness. Just peace. You’re single, separated from Namjoon. And you’re ready to take on the world and live your life like the boss woman you are.

“____,” Hoseok wails, pouting as he approaches you with outstretched arms. You barrel into him, relishing the warmth of his embrace and stowing it away for the days ahead. His eyes rove over you as he holds you at arms length so he can take you in for the last time in a while. He sighs. “My baby sister is all grown up and going to college and away from me.”

You laugh. “I’m still in the country, Hoseokie, it’s not like I’m halfway across the world. You can come and visit anytime.”

“But you’ve never lived further than a minute’s walk from my room. How am I supposed to deal with you being hours away from me now?”

“You’ll get over it soon, you big baby.” You duck out under his arms and slap his butt with the playful affection that’s always characterized your sibling relationship. Your parents are waiting by the door of your dorm room and you go over to give them their share of goodbye hugs.

“Thank you for all the help with moving and unpacking today,” you say, voice muffled as you speak into your dad’s chest. He strokes your head and you lean into his touch and savor it.

“You’ve got one more box there, you sure you don’t want our help with that?”

“No, it’s fine, I can handle it.”

It gets increasingly hard to hold the tears back and the difficulty only spikes tenfold when you turn to see your mum holding back tears of her own. Her perfume and her own natural scent that lies underneath that that you inhale as you hide your face in her neck while the two of you hug very nearly pushes you over the brink. But you manage. Knowing your family, it’s a given that someone will shed tears at some point, and you’re all (barely) holding it together for each other.

Hoseok comes up to hug you from behind so that you’re now sandwiched between him and your mum, which only prompts your dad to envelop all of you in his arms too.

“If it ever doesn’t work out- not saying that it won’t, because you’re super smart and the most driven kid I’ve ever known- but just, IF ever,” Hoseok rambles into your hair, “you can always come home and teach at the dance studio with me, ok?”

“Thanks Hoseokie. But you know I have two left feet, so I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“They’ll make an exception for you. I’ll make them make an exception for you.”

You laugh and extricate yourself from the group hug through a series of wiggles that only provides further proof of why you’ll never make it as a dance instructor the way your brother has.

“Ok, it’s getting late and you guys still have a long drive ahead of you.” You shoo them out of your room. After your final goodbyes, you return to your room quickly, knowing that the sight of their figures leaving would be unbearable.

Needing a distraction, you busy yourself with unpacking your last box of belongings. It’s nothing too difficult- your family had spent the afternoon helping you with the major to-dos like wiping things down and setting up your larger decor and lighting fixtures (read: copious amounts of fairy lights strung everywhere) just the way you liked it. All that remains now are some photos with friends, the few pieces of jewelry you owned, your humble make-up collection... and a shoe box stuffed full of letters that you didn’t dare to leave back at home where it would be at risk of being discovered by prying eyes in your absence.

Finding a place for your various items was a simple task to complete. Within ten minutes you were done unpacking, washed up, and tucked into bed for your first night ever living apart from your family. You roll over onto your side- your sleeping environment may be different, but your side-sleeper habits will never change.

As you peer out the window and take in the campus sights that seem foreign now but that you know will become familiar in time, you’re struck with a funny thought. What a turn of events your life has taken.

This is not the dorm room nor the campus you thought you’d be attending all those months ago when you were making your way down to the city. You’d embarked on that trip in gleeful anticipation at being able to deliver the good news to Namjoon, only to have that trip abruptly cut short, and the news remained in an envelope that never got to its intended recipient.

That weekend triggered a rerouting of your life, setting you on a new path that had brought you here to this campus instead. Not that you regret it, or feel like you settled for something less, not at all. You’re at peace with your decisions. It’s just an intriguing thought that things could have turned out so differently if that one weekend hadn’t happened, is all.

On impulse, you clamber out of bed to retrieve the shoe box that you’d shoved into the corner of your closet. Rifling through the stack- wait, did you really write this many letters?- you finally find the envelope you’re looking for.

Tearing it open gingerly, you pull out the sheets of paper contained within. It’s a rueful kind of feeling that washes over you as you skim over the words that you’d written back in what feels like an entire lifetime ago. The excitement you had felt at the prospect of the long-distance aspect of your relationship finally coming to an end after two long years was blatant in your letter.

But when it became obvious that Namjoon had gotten tired of trying to make things work, what you’d initially thought of as the golden ticket to saving your relationship turned out to be fool’s gold instead. You pull up the second sheet of paper- a photocopy of your acceptance letter to the same college your then boyfriend was attending- and you can’t help the ‘what if’s that fill your mind as you run your thumb over the college emblem.

Guess your dreams of a future where you lived in the city and where Namjoon was still in your life would remain just that- a dream.

Or so your naive college self believed.

[bakugou-jpg]

9.36 pm || Tanaka x reader

Summary: Tanaka has a crush on his best friend who’s a closeted lesbian.

Warnings: none

Words: 2596

Note: @queenmira29​ came up with this wonderful idea so creds to her for motivating my brain in some sort of way ! Ly mira!! Also this isn’t the best thing i’ve written but i did write it so bon a pe fucking tea

______________________________________________________

Tanaka Ryuunosuke was a simp. A big one at that.

If this man laid his eyes on a girl and she was cute? Boom, simp army unite.

Was this same cute girl, kind? Boom, head over heels.

Did she laugh at his jokes AND had the same type of humor as him? Boom, he was looking at wedding rings, planning how many children he was gonna have with her and think about what type of dog breed they'd adopt.

So when he met you? And you always asked him if he wore sunscreen when it was a hot day? And you always helped him with whatever problem he was having? AND you laughed at his jokes and made an even BETTER joke in return? He wanted to get on his knees right that instant and propose to you with the cheeto ringling he was eating.

The two of you were close, you really enjoying hanging out with both him and Nishinoya. He'd tell his worries to you, if it were something small or big he would always feel listened to whenever he talked to you. Tanaka loved how you'd hold his elbow whenever he'd walk to fast for you and how you'd be the one cheering him on the loudest when he was playing in a match.

Tanaka was head over heels for you.

It came to the point he had even build up some kind of courage to drop hints or ask you to go and 'catch a movie at the cinema' while Nishinoya very coincidentally couldn't make it. He'd very accidentally bump into your hand when reaching for some popcorn and whisper jokes into your ear about the movie which made you giggle softly to try and not to disturb the others there. He had grown several shades of red when on the way back home with the train you leaned your head onto his arm while linking his arm with your own as you slowly dozed off into sleep.

He could talk about you to Nishinoya for hours. About the way you'd squint your eyes and smile whenever he'd say something nice to you, how you'd wheeze whenever he said something quite stupid or how your voice softened when talking to him because he felt a little under the weather that day. How you'd act all motherly whenever you scolded them for bothering Kiyoko and how you'd join their conversation about her.

You were quite close, Tanaka genuinely was confident in how things were gonna develop between you and him.

October 23rd was the day Tanaka took you to out to a trampoline park, something which the two of you very much enjoyed. You'd topple over in laughter when he tried to do a salto only to fail miserably when his face hit the hard surface instead of the pit filled with foam blocks. The two of you would do a little competition of who could jump higher, Tanaka winning due the fact the muscle in his legs were much bigger than the one you had.

It was just another one of your hangouts, yet, Tanaka noticed something off about your behavior. Though you still laughed the same way you always did and made the same jokes you used to make, he noticed how your eyes were emptier. They didn't hold their usual happy glow. He'd catch you looking to a corner of the room with your eyebrows slightly sunken down and your teeth nibbling at your bottom lip.

"Earth to (Y/n)~..Are you alright?"

You'd snap out of your thought train, immediately smiling up at him and bumping his arm with your fist. "Yeah, yeah sorry. Just spaced off there for a bit" You'd say before catching him off guard by pushing him back into the pit filled with foam cubes.

He'd quickly forgotten about the event after having quickly pulled you into the pit too by grabbing you by your ankles and dragging you in. Once he heard that angelic laughter he loved so much his mind eased again, not thinking back about how you looked so lost just a few seconds ago.

It wasn't until a little later on, after you two had left the trampoline park that Tanaka caught you spacing off again. You were holding onto his elbow again, something you always did when the two of you walked together. It gave you some sort of feeling of security knowing you could always hold onto him and Tanaka certainly didn't mind either.

Right before he was about to ask what was wrong, you peered up at him and caught him staring at you with confusion. A smile had made its way onto your face, your eyes squinting and Tanaka immediately forgot about it again and his face flushed. He smiled back at you and you softly squeezed his arm, something which made him blush even more.

"Those lights look pretty" You commented while looking up at the big christmas tree in the middle of the square. It was a christmas tree purely made out of lights, all connecting at the top in a peak while spreading out as it got closer to the bottom creating the illusion of it looking like a christmas tree.

Tanaka poked up his eyebrow and looked the lights up and down. He looked back to you and grinned. "It hasn't even been halloween yet" He said, earning a pinch to his side. He slightly yelped and took a small jump away from you, rubbing his side while looking offended.

You started laughing and rolled your eyes. "Oh come on, jackass! Its still pretty. Sets a comforting soft mood.." You said, your voice trailing off as you turned back towards the lights.

There weren't many people there, for it was already so late. The two of you were able to squeeze yourself in at the last hour the trampoline park was still open and afterwards you had grabbed a quick bite at a crepe shop. The taste of strawberries still lingered in your mouth, your tongue savoring the moment.

The lights dimly lit the empty streets, only a hand full of people were still there. A businessman calling with who knows full, a little sprint in his walks for he had to catch one of the last metros going to his hometown. Not too far away from him was a trio of guys laughing together while bumping into each other, old college buddies catching up. There was also a woman running, earbuds secured into her ears as she unconciously ran to the beat of the song she was listening to.

The lights of the christmas tree were quite dim, no other lights on that were near. All of the little lights reflected in the nearby fountain, creating its own little nightsky on the inside of the water.

Tanaka had moved closer to you again, sighing in content as he watched your eyes light up a bit again while looking at the pretty christmas tree. Because yes, it was pretty, but the way the light reflected into your eyes while making it look like there was a whole universe trapped into it made his heart throb in his chest.

9.34 pm.

October 23rd, 9.34 pm was when something in Tanaka snapped and filled him with a confidence boost. He didn't shy away, he didn't feel panicked. He wanted you and you only, so bad it made his chest hurt.

"H-hey? Er, i..i-i need to tell you s-something. Well, atleast i want to"

And boom went down his confidence.  He dug himself a hole, a deep great hole but had forgotten to bring a ladder or rope. There was no way Tanaka could get himself out of that hole he dug.

His palms were sweaty, trying to wipe them off on his pants didn't work. His stomach churned and immediately reminded him off how big that crepe with nutella and banana actually was and how heavy it fell on his throat. He was sweating, oh god when did he start sweating??

It were just a few words, a simple sentence. As simple as that, just a second of his time.

"I know.."

Tanaka's eyes widened and he looked at your face, his heart sinking to his feet immediately.

You looked sad, oh so sad. Your (e/c) were settled on the fountain, the lights of the christmas tree still reflecting in your eyes but it was different. He saw how your teeth bit down on your bottom lip almost drawing blood as your skin turned white.

Tanaka bit his lip and looked the other way quickly, his hand reaching to hold onto his neck. "O-oh.." He mumbled as he felt the need to pull out his imaginary hair grow stronger by the minute. God how he felt like a fool, he felt like a whole circus. How uncomfortable wouldn't you feel right now? Oh no he fucked up, what if you didn't want to be frie-

A choked sob escaped through your mouth and you quickly moved your hand to cover your mouth. Tanaka's eyes switched back to your form and he could see how thick tears rolled down your cheeks and how you tried to stop them by squinting your eyes shut. Your bottom lip was trembling and he saw how you slowly started crying more and more.

He felt himself panic and how the hate for himself at that moment. God, he had know their was a possibility it wouldn't go as planned, but for your to break down in tears was something he had not planned on. "I-i'm so sorry oh god, i'm so sorry, (Y/n)" Tanaka said while quickly moving closer to you, wanting to comfort you but knowing if you'd hate him if he touched you.

You shook your head and furiously wiped at your eyes, trying to stop the tears from continuing. "I-i'm sorry" You whimpered, sniffling while squeezing your eyes shut once more.

What? Why were you the one apologizing? God what was he supposed to do now, what was he supposed to say?

Tanaka hesitantly put his hand on your shoulder and let you to a nearby bench, kneeling down in front of you after you sat down. God, did seeing you like this hurt his feelings. He didn't mean to make you sad heck he couldn't care less about you not returning his feelings but the fact he made you sad killed him.

He took of his backpack and opened the zipper, quickly looking through his stuff before taking out a water bottle and held it out for you. "..here" Tanaka said while handing it to you, waiting for you to take a few sips before you handed it back to him.

He watched as you sniffled a few times before wiping your eyes again. There was a moment of silence, a moment where your sobbing had stopped but there were still some stray tears that trickled down your face.

The streets were now completely empty, except for the two of you. The business man had already gotten onto his way home, the college buddies already hopped into a bar and the lady who was running had already disappeared out of sight. The only thing accompanying you two was a black stray cat drinking out of the fountain.

Tanaka sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He pressed his lips together into a thin line and looked to his sight, feeling too ashamed to look you in the eye. There was a small blush on his face and he cleared his throat. "Look, i-i'm really sorry. I shouldn't of have said it and kept it to myself i'm really stupid..Please don't be mad at me"

"Ryo no, i'm not mad at you! I could never be, you're so incredibly funny and caring and fun to be around you and noya are my bestest of friends.. Its just-.."

Your voice trailed off and you felt your heart sink to your feet. Tanaka deserved better, so much better. It wasn't his fault, the fact that he thought it was made your heart ache. Of course you knew about Tanaka's feelings for you, but you ignored them nor wanted to treat him differently because of it..would he treat you differently if you told him?

Tanaka looked at you from the corner of his eye and saw how you looked anxious. He kneeled down in front of you again and put his hands on your knees. "Hey its okay, you don't have to feel bad you kn-"

"I like girls"

...

...

"W-what?"

Your eyes snapped towards him and you swallowed the lump in your throat, your fist clenching on top of your knees. "..i like girls..I-i'm gay, Ryuunosuke." You said with a high pitched voice. God, it felt good saying it out loud yet the fact you weren't able to determine what type of emotion Tanaka was currently feeling killed you.

Tanaka blinked a few times and he fell down onto his butt, tilting his head slightly. "So..you want to like- kiss girls instead of guys?" He questioned a little dumbfounded.

You shrugged and nodded, puckering your lips slightly. "I mean, yeah. I'd think that'd be pretty neat"

Tanaka slowly nodded, looking down at your feet. His eyes squinted a little and he peered up at you. He scooched a little closer and folded his arms, resting them on top of your legs which was something that made you feel at ease. "So..you..When you were talking with us, about Kiyoko..It was really just you admiring her the way we admire her?" He asked, his lips pressing together right aftterwards.

Your face immediately got set aflame, several different shades of pink and red covering your face which didn't get unnoticed by Tanaka who immediately grinned. "W-wha! N-no! You and Noya are simps, i am not a simp Ryo!" You said as Tanaka started laughing, getting up and sitting next to you on the bench.

He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, a sigh leaving his nose. The puff of white smoke ascended into the air and Tanaka threw his head back. "Cool." He said, folding his hands behind his head while peering up at the night sky.

Honestly, he felt really relieved at that moment. He didn't blame himself, nor did he blame you. It felt weird to him, his feelings for u taking a very quick u turn in that moment and he felt himself getting closer to you and closer as he felt your eyes stare into the back of his head.

"We can simp for Kiyoko together now, ya' know"

Tears started spilling out of your eyes again, but this time you didn't even know why you were crying. You were relieved, happy and felt the fear you had slowly leave your body. All of those emotion overwhelmed you and you felt yourself tremble yet a smile made its way onto your face. "Y-yea."

Tanaka had been nothing but supportive, actually being more invested in trying to be your wingman this time instead of the other way around. He'd patiently wait for you to come out to Nishinoya and the rest of the world and if you did, he you and nishinoya would be the Kiyoko protection squad. Though, u weren't as extreme as the other two were and were more the type to hype Kiyoko up.

So now, with two thick rainbow flags painted on his cheeks and a shirt that said "Homophobia is gay", Tanaka held onto your legs as you sat on top of his shoulder while screaming at the top of his lungs as the two of you attended your first pride together for there were many more to come.

[straykats]

Are you still taking requests ? If so I would love to request 1, 15 and 9 with Hyunjin. I really like your writing! ♡

sorry this took a hot second ! and thank you hehe

p.s. suggestive ending!

---

1. “Stay here tonight.” // 15. “you have no idea how much i want you right now.” // 9. “kiss me.”

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“Are you leaving?” There’s something a little hesitant in Hyunjin’s voice, almost sad.

You give him a nod, standing up and stretching. You had been cooped up on his couch for the last few hours, playing games with him and his friends. It was well into the night now, and you resisted the urge to look at the clock behind you. You only lived a few blocks away, but the streets in between weren’t too well lit.

“Do you need to go?”

Glancing over questioningly, you find Hyunjin absorbed in looking at his nails. His hair fell in front his face, but his ears, poking out on either side, were a rare pinkish colour. “What do you mean, do I need to go?” Hyunjin shrugs, and moves to look at his other hand. “Do you want me to paint your nails or something?”

Huffing out a laugh, he shakes his head and gets up, busying himself with rearranging the couch. “Well, you know, it’s late. And I would have asked one of the boys to walk you home, but they’re all gone, and I don’t think it’s a smart idea to walk alone right now…”

A smile makes its way onto your face. “Hwang Hyunjin, are you worried about me?”

“What? No. What even gave you that idea?” He says, but your eyes meet for a second and he grins. “You don’t need to walk alone, you know. Stay here tonight.”

“Stay- Stay here?” A stream of endless possibilities flooded your mind, and it was your turn to busy yourself. You go to tidy up the coffee table, littered with snacks and empty cups. “I don’t have anything to change into you-”

“You’re already in sweats, y/n.” Hyunjin observes in a carefree tone. “Besides, I’m sure- I don’t mind lending you some clothes. As a matter of fact-” you note the change in tone, and your heart skips a beat. What was he about to say? “- i think i actually have a pair of women’s sport shorts you can wear.”

“You have- Why- Hyunjin, what?!” You choke on your words, spluttering as confusion fills your mind alongside an unwanted thought. “Have you had... someone over recently?”

A moment of dreadful silence passes as you look at Hyunjin, whose brows were furrowed in confusion.

“No! It’s not what you think! I haven’t- I didn’t- I bought them. They don’t belong to some random girl.”

You didn’t think it was possible to be more confused, but here you are, even more confused. 

“They were for a stupid game - supposed to be a punishment item, you know?”

A wave of relief fills you and you let out a laugh. “I think it’d be punishment for the audience, not the loser. Imagine Changbin strutting out in womens-”

“No, stop, you’re scaring my brain!” Hyunjin covers his ears, shaking his head ferociously.

“But thank you, I’ll take your offer.”

Hyunjin stops and uncovers his ears, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn’t seemed to be expecting a yes, you thought. 

“I’ll- I’ll get you some clothes! And you can wash up!”

After insisting that he takes a shower first, you find yourself sitting in his room on the edge of the bed. It was strange. Everything seemed the same as the last time you were in here, but the last time you were in his room, your veins had been buzzing with alcohol. It had been another game night, and your luck seemed to have run out. The boys had put you to bed in Hyunjins room, where you dozed off. You had found Hyunjin on the couch in the morning, and in a wave of embarrassment, had snuck out of his apartment without a word. 

“Hey, your turn.”

You snap out of your thoughts when Hyunjin emerges from the bathroom, hair wet and dripping onto a towel around his shoulders. His cheeks are flush and his eyes are bright.

With a quick nod of thanks, you make your way to the bathroom. It seemed that he had tried to tidy up a bit - drawers were ajar, and you pushed them shut for him. He had placed a new toothbrush on the sink for you.

You exit the bathroom feeling refreshed and smelling faintly of grapefruit. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, balanced on your head. Choosing a small space on his dresser, you fold your clothes and place them in the corner. Hyunjin had given you clothes - the womens shorts, which you were surprised to find actually fit you, and one of his shirts that hung just below the hem of your shorts. 

There’s a knock at the door, and you let out a hum. 

“So, I was going to ask you if you wanted the bed or the couch, but then I realised I should probably let you take the bed instead of making you sleep on the couch where all our butts have been-” The words, which had previously been falling out of his mouth in a stream, come to a halt as he catches sight of you. You’re looking over your shoulder at him, nothing strange. “Do- Do you want me to find a more fitting shirt? Or a bigger one? Or…”

You blink, once, twice, and then shake your head, pushing down the smile that threatened to appear. “No, this one’s fine.”

“Right. Of course.” He clears his throat and turns his head, but you catch his eyes sneaking a quick glance at you.

“Is something wrong?” You were pretty sure you knew what was wrong, but it was entertaining to see him get flustered. It was new. Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, you unwrap the towel from your head and start to comb through your hair with your fingers. Water drips onto your legs, but you ignore it. “Hyunjin, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just… I’m going to hell.” He covers his face with a hand. “Youhavenoideahowmuchiwantyourightnow.”

The words are mumbled under his breath, and you try not to laugh. “‘Jinnie, I have no idea what you just said.”

He glares at you, although the tips of his ears are an alarming shade of red and his cheeks were starting to become visibly coloured. “I said, you have no idea how much I want you right now,” he grumbles. Then he pulls the neck of his shirt up to cover his lower face, and focuses his eyes determinedly on a pillow on the bed. “Now excuse me while I just grab my stuff. You can take the bed-”

“Kiss me.”

Hyunjin falters, and you wonder for a second if he’s gonna trip over his own feet. 

“Kiss… you?”

“You said it, didn’t you? You said that you want-” Gosh, it was a bit hard to breath evenly. It wasn’t everyday you slept over at your friend’s house in their clothes, have them tell you they want you, and then ask them to kiss you. You lick your lips and take a deep breath, your next words slipping out under your breath. “Kiss me, Hyunjin.”

There was no need to ask him again. He moves to you with excessive momentum, knocking you back and almost off the bed. Soft lips meet your own, and you let out a shocked gasp at how warm he feels against you. An elbow is by your head, bracing Hyunjin up, and his other hand is cupping the side of your face. 

He pulls back for a second to look at you through half-lidded eyes, and you take the chance to object to his previous statement.

“Don’t sleep on the couch tonight.”

He frowns for a second before understanding, quickly followed by confusion fills his eyes. “But… I’m not going to let you sleep on the couch. That’s rude.”

You giggle and crane your head up to kiss the corner of his lips. “Then we’ll both share the bed. I don’t think that should be a problem, right?”

“God, you have no idea how much of a problem that could be,” he murmurs with a grin, and then his lips are on yours again.

[drarry-fanfiction7]

True Love Touch - Part 2

Summary: “The curse was quite forward in its intent, Harry had to give it credit for that, not that it was a particularly good thing. Truly a great thing to be cursed with if one was painfully single and painfully not in love with anyone.”

Or, the one where Harry is cursed with a love spell and Draco doesn’t get any sleep.

Part 1

Words: 3.7k

(can also be read on my ao3 @/invisible_slytherin)

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Hermione had her head buried in a book, five more scattered around her. Her fingers were stained with ink and her hair was messier than usual. A frown was on her face, but she resolutely didn't look up; not when a few second years started playing Exploding Snap, not when Seamus started telling a story in a loud tone, not when a few fourth years started giggling as they gossiped on the couch.

Ron was next to her, head resting on an open book and some drool starting to pool at the corner of his mouth. He didn't look like he would be waking up anytime soon.

The three of them had been sitting at the table since Ron and Hermione had come up from dinner, reading books and parchments, taking notes and coming up with theories. Now, it was dark outside and most people had already climbed the stairs to the dorms.

They weren't any closer to finding anything.

"Maybe we should get some sleep," Harry said, thumbing over the words 'old curse' on the book he had been trying to pay attention to.

"No, we should keep going for a little longer. We haven't found anything concrete yet."

"Hermione, we're all tired. We won't find anything in this state."

She sighed tiredly. Her elbows came up to rest on the table and she buried her face in her hands.

"We'll find something soon enough," he tried to reassure her as much as he tried to reassure himself.

"We will." Her voice wasn't quite sure and there was doubt in her eyes, but, tonight, her words were enough for Harry.

She reached out, hand outstretched to pat his, and the two of them froze. Her hand stopped midair and he retreated his own slowly from the table, placing it on his lap.

"I'm sorry," she started.

"Don't worry about it. I forget too."

She smiled at him, a small smile that was more concerned than reassuring. Then, she closed her book, golden letters spelling 'Love Spells' shinning in the dim light of the common room.

"Let's go to sleep. We'll pick this up again tomorrow."

Harry watched as she woke up Ron. She put a hand on his hair and run it through it slowly, her thumb catching on his forehead sometimes. She leaned down to whisper in his ear when he groaned sleepily and patted his back softly before stretching up again.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said, putting all her books and parchments in a neat pile at the end of the table.

Harry nodded at her and sent a smile her way, meaning to reassure her that he was alright and would be alright.

Ron was rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands, yawning as he pushed the book he had been sleeping on to the centre of the table.

"I can't even look at words anymore," he mumbled.

Harry laughed and almost reached out to clap him over the shoulder, the reality of his situation hit him before he could.

"I'm going to bed." Ron got up from his seat. "You coming?"

"In a bit."

Ron grinned at him and didn't bother with closing the book before climbing the stairs to the dorm.

Harry still had his book in front of him, he pretended to scan the pages and take notes while he waited for the common room to empty. When there were only three fifth-years standing there, he closed the book and discarded the parchment full of the useless doodles he had made to pass time and went upstairs.

The dorm was quiet apart from the usual snores of the guys he shared with. Seamus was the loudest, but Ron was close on his heels. Dean shifted on his bed, turning to face the door as Harry entered and he stopped in his tracks as not to wake anyone. He tiptoed to his bed, opening the trucks and getting his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map from it.

Then, in the same careful manner as he had come in, he left the room again.

He shoved the map in his pocket and the cloak underneath his jumper and descended the stairs to the common room again. The fifth years were still sitting on the couch when he came down again and they looked up at him as he appeared.

"I thought you had gone to sleep," one of them said.

"Nah," Harry chuckled. "I actually think I'm going to get something from the kitchens. I'm really fancying a late-night snack, right now."

The three of them stared at him curiously and Harry knew that now it wasn't just because he was Harry Potter who had defeated Voldemort, now it was also because he had been skipping class and not going down to the Great Hall in over a week.

Harry ignored their looks and left the common room.

***

The kitchens were warmer than the rest of the castle. The heat a welcomed change from the shivering cool of the corridors as Harry entered. House-elves were fusing about, doing Harry wasn't even sure what. Some stopped to stare at him as they noticed his entrance.

"Harry Potter," one of them said, bowing down so low he almost kissed his own feet.

"I was wondering if you had any snacks I could have?" He asked awkwardly.

"Of course, Harry Potter. Anything Harry Potter wants," another one said excitedly, his pointy ears fluttering.

Harry smiled at them, hand raising to rub the back of his neck. This was too much attention.

He hadn't come to the kitchens this year yet. He had known that the elves were probably going to throw a figurative party around him if he appeared, but thinking they were going to it hadn't exactly prepared him for all the attention he was receiving.

One of the elves gestured for Harry to follow her and led him to an adjacent room. One with a table, snacks and a blond boy sitting on one of the chairs.

Malfoy raised his eyes from his cup of steaming liquid and stared at them as they entered. He sighed when he looked at Harry as if it annoyed him to look at him.

"So we meet again in the middle of the night, Potter," Malfoy said. "Cheers to being insomniacs."

"Then it's not just wanting to be alone." Harry pulled back one of the chairs to sit, his back protesting as he rested it against the chair.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Wasn't about to spill everything to you the first time we saw each other, was I?"

"Is it more acceptable to spill everything on the second time then?"

"My insomnia is hardly new, Potter. Anyone with a brain could conjure that I probably don't have the best sleeping schedule. No one does really."

"Yeah, well, we all saw some pretty messed up things over the last years."

"That we did," Malfoy looked at him.

He blew on his cup to cool down whatever it was that he was drinking and took a sip, a small brown drop catching on his top lip.

"Drinking coffee seems hardly like a solution to your problem, Malfoy."

Malfoy stared at him with a contemplative expression. Eyes fixed on Harry as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at his mouth.

"It's not about falling asleep, Potter. It's about staying awake."

"Why are you always so cryptic?"

Malfoy shrugged. "It's part of my charm."

"I wouldn't exactly call it charm, but whatever you want, Malfoy."

Malfoy rolled his eyes at him, but he didn't seem to mind the conversation and the remarks. He seemed to be having fun with it if the small upward curve of his lips was anything to go by.

They stayed in silence for a while, Malfoy sipping his coffee and Harry reaching out to grab a few snacks from the middle of the table, mindful of his bruises.

It felt surreal to be sharing late-night snacks with Malfoy in the kitchens while having a civilized, albeit slightly strained, conversation with him. They were so different, had always been, and they had never managed to get along. But now, sitting in front of Malfoy with snacks in front of them, seeing Malfoy sip his coffee because he didn't want to sleep and having an actual conversation with him, it seemed like they were two different people entirely. Two different people who hadn't had a rivalry and a war between them, two different people who could actually get along.

"Isn't it weird?" He ended up asking.

"Your inability to be eloquent? Yes, Potter, it is quite weird, you should fix it."

"Asshole," Harry rolled his eyes amused. "I meant the two of us, here in the middle of the night, talking as if we're friends."

"Friends isn't the word I would use."

And of course, Harry wouldn't call them friends either, he just meant that they were being more friendly toward each other than they had ever been before.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do know." He sipped his coffee again, making Harry wait for an answer. "I think we both grew up, wouldn't you say."

"A bit hard not to."

"Indeed. We grew up, we learned that school rivalries are nothing when there are things that are so much bigger and dangerous. And after being involved in those things, school rivalries sound quite silly."

Harry didn't answer. Malfoy was right, they had had to grow up when faced with Voldemort, war, losing loved ones and seeing everything they had known crumble around them. They had been in opposites sides, but there were things that were universal. The suffering and fear were two of them.

"For what it's worth, I don't exactly hate you," Harry decided to say.

Malfoy chuckled, shaking his head and putting down his now empty cup.

"You're not so bad yourself, Potter."

And that had to be some high praise coming from Malfoy. More than Harry ever thought he would get from him, more than he ever thought he wanted to hear from him. Strangely, it didn't feel entirely weird to hear it, it felt heartwarming. It made leaving the past behind feel solid between them.

The silence that followed wasn't as harsh as the others had been. This one felt lighter, felt like it was there simply because they didn't know each other enough to break it and not because they weren't supposed to be talking to each other. This was the kind of silence Harry didn't mind having with Malfoy.

"Potter," he called. "Did you hit your shoulder?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows at the question. Then, Malfoy pointed at his right shoulder and Harry twisted his head to look. Despite the angle, it was impossible not to notice the dark purple bruise that marked the skin there. Neville had pulled him back when they were leaving the dorm the day before to go into the common room and the bruise had appeared right away.

Harry considered telling him again. He didn't know why but he felt compelled to just talk about it, tell someone that didn't know already. Or maybe it was just Malfoy who was looking at him with curiosity in his eyes and tousled hair, drinking coffee in the kitchens in the middle of the night because he has insomnia and doesn't want to go to sleep. Maybe it was just him that Harry wanted to talk to.

"I-" he hesitated. "Yeah, I jammed it against the door."

"How clumsy of you, Potter," he said.

He seemed a little suspicious, but not enough to question him.

"And you're still not going to class either." Definitely suspicious then.

"It's complicated."

"Clearly."

Harry knew that Malfoy wasn't about to outright ask him what was going on, as suspicious as he was that something weird must be happening. He would wait for Harry to talk, would say things to prompt any confessions that Harry wanted to make, but not demand anything.

"I better go back to the dungeons," Malfoy said, getting up from his chair.

He was elegant about it. He dabbed at his already clean lips with the napkin in front of him, pushed the chair back without making any noise and got up with a straight back.

"I'll see you at some point, Potter."

"You will."

***

The next time he saw Malfoy was actually in daylight, for once. It was Saturday afternoon and the sun was bright despite the cold outside. Most people were either outside enjoying the cool sunshine or at Hogsmeade. Because of that, Harry had deemed it safe enough to leave the tower for once and go to the library, figuring that no one would try to touch him there.

Ron and Hermione had gone on a date. Well, they hadn't wanted to call it a date to Harry's face since Hermione seemed convinced that going on a date when they could be helping with research was quite selfish. Harry was just glad that Ron had managed to convince her that they would be able to help much more if they took some time to unwind and that going to Hogsmeade was a great way to unwind. It's not like one afternoon would lower their chances of finding anything to help Harry by much if anything.

Now, Harry was sitting alone at one of the tables. He had made the effort to grab some books about curses, had even brought some of the ones McGonaggal had provided them, but he wasn't exactly paying attention to them. He could see a Ravenclaw boy flying about in the courtyard through one of the windows and he could only feel strong envy towards him. This damn curse had taken his freedom, Hogwarts, the ability to be with his friends normally and quidditch from him. He wanted all of it back.

"Why are you in the library on this fine Saturday afternoon, Potter?"

He tore his gaze away from the window and found Malfoy on the other side of the table, three books in his hands, looking down at him.

"I'm studying."

Malfoy raised an unimpressed eyebrow and looked down at the books Harry had displayed in front of him. That was when Harry realized his mistake. None of the books was about things that were in the curriculum.

"Studying for what exactly?"

"Knowledge. I was just interested."

"I'm sure you were."

If Malfoy had been suspicious before, he was more than suspicious now. He was sure that something was going on with Harry that was making him skip classes and meals in the Great Hall and that might be related to his bruises.

Malfoy's books fell to the table with a dull sound and Harry buried his face in his crossed arms when he grabbed one of the books Harry had been reading. He didn't lift his head to see Malfoy's expression as he read the title or as he thumbed through the pages.

"Not the kind of topic I would expect you to be interested in," was the first time he said.

He was still not going to ask for answers and Harry wanted to shake him and make him demand them, that way he would have a better excuse to spill everything than just his crazy want to do it.

"People can surprise you," he said weekly, raising his head.

Malfoy's eyes were narrowed. He still had the book in his hands, eyes switching between reading some passages and staring at Harry. His expression getting increasingly more resolute as his eyes did that dance.

He closed the book and put it down on the table. Harry thought he was going to leave and not say anything about it anymore. He didn't know if he wanted that to happen or not. On the one hand, it would mean that he wouldn't feel the pressure of Malfoy's eyes anymore and would be able to relax again and go back to pretending like he was reading anything. But then he knew that if he was ever alone with Malfoy again, he would still want to tell him about all of it.

But Malfoy didn't leave. He pulled out a chair and sat in front of Harry, staring at him in silence for a while before leaning over the table and meeting Harry's eyes without much effort.

"What's going on, Potter?"

There it was. The question Harry had been waiting for to tell Malfoy everything. He wanted to tell him everything and he couldn't even fully comprehend why himself.

"I think you already know," he settled for saying.

"I'd still like for you to tell me."

Harry licked his lips and avoided Malfoy's eyes.

"I've been cursed."

Malfoy nodded and waited for him to continue talking.

"Madam Pomfrey and the professors think it was the last time we went to Hogsmeade. They don't think any student could have been so successful at a powerful dark curse."

"And what exactly is this dark curse?"

Harry opened his mouth but opted for showing him instead of just telling him. In for a little, in for a lot. He sighed and pulled his sleeves up, exposing the black and blue bruises that were littering his arm, from wrist to elbow and disappearing beneath the bundled up sleeve at his bicep. The bruises from his last days of classes hadn't faded yet and, even while being so careful, there were some new ones.

"Merlin, Potter, what the hell is that curse?"

Malfoy looked positively paler than he had always been. Eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in surprise. He reached a hand as if to touch and Harry flinched so violently that it startled the two of them.

"It happens when someone touches me," he rushed out to justify. "The curse… it basically makes bruises appear when anyone who isn't my true love touches me. True Love Touch was what they called it."

Malfoy retreated his hand, that had been hanging in the air until now, and cradled it to his chest as if he had been the one about to be bruised.

"That's why you haven't been going to class," he wasn't asking, he was weaving the threads together in his head and understanding what was happening with Harry.

"I've been staying confined to the tower. It's easier to avoid any contact, accidental or not, with people that way."

"Trouble really likes you, doesn't it?"

And that joking tone was so far from what Harry had ever expected from Malfoy, it almost seemed like he had imagined it. Harry had never heard that tone coming from Malfoy, much less aimed at him.

"I wish it didn't," he ended up saying.

"I don't think you would know how to deal with a normal life."

It was probably true. Harry was so used to having a target on his back, to researching all sorts of things - though Hermione did most of that part - and constantly looking behind his back as if he was going to be attacked at every second, that he most likely would be very put off by a 'normal' year.

Still, it would have been nice to be bored and spend some time with his friends without being cursed and consequentially being locked up in a tower as if he were a damsel in distress.

"Would you like to trade? I'd rather like a normal life."

Malfoy's face closed off, the playful expression fading into a cold one that left Harry feeling lost and strangely resentful.

"My life is far from normal, Potter," Malfoy's voice sounded like it did years ago, before their late-night conversations and weird understanding of each other.

Harry wasn't sure how what he had said that had made the mood sour so quickly, but he wanted to not have said it. He wanted Malfoy to have that open, amused expression on his face again, he wanted him to keep talking to Harry and let him talk to him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't want to offend you."

Malfoy looked up at him, eyes narrowing as he took on Harry's face and tried to read him. Harry was sure that it wouldn't be too hard, he was terrible at concealing how he felt, after all.

"You don't understand, do you?"

"Understand what?"

"Why my life isn't the so-called normal."

"I-"

"I'm a Death Eater, Potter. My whole family is. I used to walk on money and leave proud footsteps behind me, but that doesn't happen anymore. Now, I try to hide in the shadows as much as possible and I don't want anyone to even look at me. I don't like it when people look at me for I know that there's nothing good going through their heads."

Harry hadn't considered it. He guessed that one of the things that came with being so involved in one side of the war, was how it made it hard to see the other side as anything other than the enemy. It made it hard to think that things could be not as black and white as they seem and that people who were on the other side also suffered, kept suffering after the war.

And some of them did deserve, Harry could be a good person and still think that. But there were people who maybe were victims too, Harry sometimes failed to see that. Which did not mean that Malfoy didn't deserve some backlash for what he had done during the war. He might be only eighteen, but he still made some decisions and did certain things that couldn't be overlooked.

"I didn't think of that…"

"I know," Malfoy said.

He pulled back his chair and got up, grabbing his books and leaving Harry's on the table. Before he left, he turned around and gave Harry a small, closed-off smile.

"Good luck with your curse, Potter."

He wasn't mad and that was a relief for Harry who found himself enjoying his conversations with Malfoy more and more.

"I'll need it," he said and watched as Malfoy left the library.

____________________________

Part 3

Masterlist

[musicanddancingthroughlife]

Shklance - Courting

I worked hard on this one, guys. Hope you like it; I think it’s one of my favorites :)

Pretty sure next week I will be posting an MCU story, because I have a finished one in my files and it’s midterm season so I’ve really not had a ton of brains left to write haha. I do still have one that I’m working on, and then I think I actually finally figured out what I want to continued my necromancer!Lance story, so hopefully I can work on that this week and have it ready to go soon. But really, this is me apologizing cause I’m really not sure how much new stuff I’ll get written, but midterms should end this week :)

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           Really, in hindsight, they supposed it was kind of obvious. All it took was a few study dates with Lance, the last of these ending with Lance realizing he was late for work and rushing out of their apartment, so distracted he didn’t even realize that he’d hugged Shiro (who had just returned from fetching him a glass of water) and kissed Keith on the cheek on his way out, leaving both of them standing there staring at him like idiots.

Shiro recovered first and glanced quickly at Keith to see if he’d noticed. He chuckled at the look on his boyfriend’s face. “You know you’re smitten, right?”

           “Oh ya, like you’re not?” Keith shot back. Shiro sighed.

           “I never said I wasn’t, Keith, would you relax? I was just making an observation.”   ��        “Just making an observation, my ass,” Keith muttered mutinously. There was a pause, and then Keith relented. “What are we gonna do?”

           “We court him.”

           Despite the tension in the room, Keith found himself bursting into laughter at that. “Court him?” he sputtered, “What the hell century are you living in, Shiro?”

           “Oh shut up!” Shiro snapped, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose flushing a deep red. “He deserves to be treated well!”            “Well that, at least, I can agree with.” Keith finally managed to calm himself down, and then he moved toward Shiro. “What about us?”

           Shiro looked down at him blankly. “What about us? I know for a fact you don’t want to be wooed, and I don’t need to be courted, plus we’re already dating.”

           Keith stared at him. “But what if he—”

           “Keith,” Shiro broke in, now chuckling himself, “we’re courting him together, you got that, right? It’s both of us or neither of us, ya moron.”

           “…Oh. I didn’t… didn’t know that was a thing.”

           Shiro gave him a bright smile and pulled Keith into a hug. “That’s okay, but I think we’ve got something to teach you about polyamorous relationships before we even try to court Lance, don’t you think?”

           “Fine. But after that…”

           “Yeah. After that, we make our move on Lance. Promise.”

             It took some time, but soon enough Keith had been educated on the how’s of polyamorous relationships, and they had worked out a game plan to get Lance’s attention. It was a simple plan: Lance had mentioned wishing he had the time to relax that weekend. They knew he had several tests over the course of a few days, and that he had been working more hours than usual that month, in the hopes of saving enough money for tickets back home during their upcoming break. The problem was, Lance hadn’t had a chance to clean his apartment, and so was planning to use his weekend to catch up on those things. But Keith had pointed out how much Lance’s work seemed to be suffering during their study sessions, his normally correct work somehow coming out wrong 9 times out of 10, and his beautiful penmanship nothing more than chicken scratch. Shiro had responded by sharing that Lance had looked especially tired the last couple of days especially, his normally soft and shiny hair greasier than they’d ever seen, and dark shadows under his eyes.

           So that productive weekend he was expecting (but they knew he was also dreading)? Not happening. They would take care of it for him, and then make sure he got the relaxing weekend he was so desperately craving (even if he wouldn’t say that he was).

           Now, neither of them were entirely sure how they were going to get into Lance’s apartment, but Keith was confident he would be able to manage fairly easily.

           Unfortunately, Shiro was a jerk and also a fun-sucker, and he wouldn’t let Keith break into Lance’s apartment (even after promising that he “wouldn’t damage anything and would be super, super careful, c’mon, Shiroooo!”), so they wound up going to their local Lance expert.

           “Um, no offense, cause I love you guys and you’re both absolutely my friends, but like. Why do you need a key to Lance’s apartment?”

           It may have looked like Hunk was including both of them in his question, but Keith knew, okay he just knew that Hunk was eyeing him suspiciously. He huffed. He’d only dumped chocolate sauce on Lance the one time, and it had been a complete accident. It’s not like he spent all his free time trying to figure out how to make Lance’s life miserable! He was too busy dreaming of hugging him, and kissing him, and bringing him food and gifts… Oops. He’d zoned out again.

           “…trying to help him, I promise, Hunk. He just seems like he’s under a lot of stress, and we want to try and take care of some of it for him,” Shiro was saying.

           Hunk bit his lip, a flash of something in his eyes. Keith was curious, but before he could say anything, Hunk had set his jaw, determination in every single one of his features. “Don’t worry about a key, you guys will manage.”

           At that, Shiro and Keith exchanged confused looks, but before Shiro could ask, Hunk was already marching away. There was a moment of silence, and then…

           “Cool, I still get to break in!” Keith cheered.

           Shiro sighed.

           Okay, so yeah, Keith had figured breaking in would be easy… but not that easy.

           “What the hell?!” Keith stared at Shiro’s hand in shock, still resting on the knob of the completely unlocked door to Lance’s apartment. “What is he doing; that’s not safe at all!”

           Shiro was inspecting the door frame and the knob, and after some fiddling he said, “I think the lock is busted.”

           “…What?”

           “He didn’t do it on purpose, Keith,” Shiro said, moving further into the apartment and looking around curiously. His heart sunk as he took in their precious boy’s living space. “Damn he’s been struggling a lot more than he let on.”

           Keith followed, and he was sad to see that Shiro was right. The kitchen was bare, a small number of dishes stacked in the sink, and none remaining in the cupboards. Keith left Shiro inspecting the kitchen to go take a look at the bedrooms. In one, most of the walls and shelves were bare of any personalization, although there were some pictures of their friend group and some of Lance’s family and childhood friends slapped up haphazardly near the bed. The bed itself was perfectly made and even slightly dusty, as if Lance didn’t sleep there often. The other bedroom was even more empty than this one, and how long had Lance been without a roommate?

           Keith wandered back towards the kitchen. “Shiro… how many hours did Lance say he was working, again?”

           “…30…”

           “And how much do these apartments cost?”

           Shiro crossed his arms. “More than he’s making with just his shop at the coffee shop. Unless he has a roommate.”

           Keith gestured back down the hall at the bedrooms. “Well you can rule out the roommate.”

           “…well, shit. No wonder he’s so tired all the time.”

Keith huffed. “What are we gonna do, Shiro? We can’t let him keep doing this to himself!”

           Shiro’s face was twisted into a grimace, eyes lost in thought. Then he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides, body loosening its tense stance. “Let’s just… Let’s do what we came to do, and we’ll talk to him when he comes home. Maybe call Hunk and talk to him first. But, I promise, Keith, we’ll figure out a way to help him. Maybe see if he wants to move in with us, since we’re off campus and have a little more room. We’ll figure it out.”

           Keith nodded, relief shining in his eyes as Shiro took charge, easily directing their cleaning efforts as they bounced ideas off of each other. Keith was a big fan of having Lance move in; all they would need was a bigger bed! Shiro had shook his head and laughed, a counteroffer at the ready.

           “Keith, we can’t rush this. Lance is a proud guy; he may not want to move in with us right off the bat.”

           “But—”

           “Oh, we’re definitely going to offer it to him. You and I usually share a room anyway, and he can have the second bedroom. But he might prefer to stay here and have some independence. Then maybe we could offer to help pay the second half of his rent. Or even just sneak some groceries into his apartment. Just keep an open mind, okay?”

           Keith was quiet for so long that Shiro was afraid he’d upset him somehow, so he abandoned his current task of organizing all the homework and textbooks that had been scattered around the floor of the living room area (glaring at the blanket and pillow on the couch, because he was pretty sure those meant that Lance had been sleeping on the couch more than his own bed and that was a horrible thought).

           “Keith?” he called.

           When he was met with more silence, his worry only grew, until he turned the tight corner and found Keith sitting on his butt in front of some cabinets. Keith looked up at him, tears in his eyes and all but wailed at Shiro, “He doesn’t even have any food in here!”

           Shiro closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

           Yeah, they were going to be having words with their boy, this was just unacceptable.

[vicecityhq]

██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: autumn, forestpunk, cottagegore, darkest academia . With a slight resemblance to PAKORN THANASRIVANITCHAI of/the ACTOR.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE:

Last Name, First Name: Suwannarat, Briar Alias: Pan (codename for his job), Ari (more of a nickname than an alias) Realm of birth (if earth, nationality): Earth realm, Thailand Age: 29 Date of Birth: November 23rd Gender: Male Preferred Pronouns: He/Him Species: Children of the Twelve - Sagittarius Occupation: Police Detective Sexual Orientation: Homosexual

VISUAL FILE: 

Skin Color: Tanned, burnt orange hue with a smattering of chocolate freckles along his face. He has the same freckles throughout his body, but has bigger white spots along his shoulders, the backs of his ears, and his outer hips. Eye color: Honey Brown Scars: None that have a significant story Piercings: None Tattoos: None Hair color: Dark chocolate brown Abnormalities: Fawn-like ears Horns/ wings/ etc: Small, stumpy antlers that stick just above his hair Transformed form: He does not have a transformation.

PERSONAL FILE:

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Agnostic, but was raised Buddhist SINS:  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  /  lust  /  pride  /  envy  /  wrath VIRTUES: chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility /  kindness /  patience /  justice KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Thai, Latin SECRETS: Teen romance can be rough, right? It’s like two colliding whirlwinds of emotions, hormones, and desires. One minute you’re together, the next you’re broken up for no reason. Now when that volatility is coupled with doubts about sexuality, it’s just a disaster waiting to happen. Most people didn’t accidentally melt half of their boyfriend’s face off and cause him to have to undergo grueling, expensive reconstructive surgery that would never quite make things right, though. Briar had told him the gloves had to stay on, but kids were reckless and foolishly believed in their own infallibility so it didn’t take much convincing to risk it all for some skin on skin. Then next thing they knew, Briar was babbling some half brained excuse about a science experiment gone wrong while his boyfriend’s blood curdling screams echoed in his ears. It was believably enough… until a month after - when the swelling from some of his injuries went down - his former lover was able to unintelligibly mutter “Briar did it.” Then suddenly an ‘accident’ turned into a full scale investigation of malicious intent. All Briar could do was tell the truth. He didn’t know which was more difficult - coming clean about his powers or coming out of the closet. But the officer sitting across from him and his distraught mother in the cramped interrogation room didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the confession. His bushy brows only furrowed in disappointment over the entire situation. In the end, Briar was only charged with obstruction of justice for initially lying to police, but the damage to his reputation was irreparable. His mother decided it would be best to relocate, which is how Briar came to finish his last years of high school in Agdoeg.

SAVVIES: hiking, gardening, camping, sightseeing, investigative work, problem solving, riddles and puzzles.

Powers & Abilities: Zodiac Empowerment (Sagittarius: enhanced accuracy, vision, tracking), Zodiac Physiology (see above appearance), Animal (deer) Spirit Summoning, Fthinóporokinesis (Autumn manipulation), Rot Inducement/Decaying Touch, Body Part Erosion, Luck, Evolution Manipulation, Supernatural Bowmanship.

Traits: (positive) Determined, intelligent, neat freak, health conscious, animal lover, usually down to earth, assertive, responsible, (negative) Sarcastic, impatient, untrusting, can have a temper when someone pushes him too far, distant, prioritizes work over everything else.

BACKGROUND CHECK:

Date of Birth: November 23rd

Date of Death: N/A

Crime Record: Most would assume someone has to have a clean slate to enter law enforcement, but that would leave slim pickings in a city like Agdoeg. Briar doesn’t have any outstanding criminal record, but he did have a couple of dings on his juvenile one that were expunged once he became a legal adult and, therefore, they can no longer be found in most databases.

Background/Biography

(tw miscarriage, tw immaculate conception by some strange god XD, tw domestic disputes, tw divorce) 

 Briar’s parents had been struggling to conceive a child for many years, since their prompt marriage right out of secondary school. These sweet hearts had longed to have a cookie cutter life and family, but fate seemed to inhibit that every step of the way. His mother have seven miscarriages due to the condition of an incompetent cervix and was told many times that she may never be able to carry a child to full term. This had been devastating news to the couple, who had no means of affording everything that went into surrogacy and were now facing the reality that they may never be able to have their own children. In spite of these odds, though, they kept trying and praying that whatever Gods that were out there might grant them a miracle.

Their prayers never seemed to be answered, though, and this put an understandable strain on their marriage. It was when his mother was thirty three and beginning to lose hope that she was plagued by a strange dream. She was floating in a vast emptiness, unable to move or even scream. This might have terrified someone else, but she somehow felt safe blanketed in the darkness. It was as if the entire universe lay bare before her, starlight dancing between her outstretched fingertips. Except she didn’t have fingers. She didn’t even have a physical body. There was a sense that she had become a part of something greater or perhaps been broken down into a form akin to what they had all been before the universe collided together in some cosmic firework show to create all that they knew. After what seemed like an eternity if time even passed in that world, the stars began to slowly take shape before her, pulled together by gravity or some other force she would never quite understand. As they converged, the light became so bright that it was nearly blinding, but she was space dust so how could she look away? She remembers trying to rationalize it with that absurd thought as the light shifted around her and the sound of harps and a heavenly chorus interrupted the sacred stillness that she’d been immersed in until then. Heralding the coming of something… or someone. The light came together at the peak of the crescendo, shapeless but she somehow got the sense of a shapely figure wrapped in a gown the longer she stared into it. This motherly figure bent over her and she recalled the warmth as its tendrils of light stroked over her cheek before urging her mouth open. In that moment, she didn’t feel any sense of unease as the being urged her to partake of its light. It traveled past her lips and through every corner of her being, rushing into her fingertips and even the ends of her hair. It was the first time since being in that plane that she had any sense of where she ended and the rest of the world began. The last thing she remembered was that light condensing, forming into its own little star in the lower part of her abdomen and radiating such soothing warmth…

Then she woke up and that was the first time she really had any sense of unease about the strange dream. As someone who had experienced how odd dreams could get during pregnancy, though, she took it as a good sign. Sure enough, when she took a test three weeks later, she was pregnant! Unlike prior, when she’d lost her children around the three month mark, this child was growing strong and without the complications she always worried about. Everything seemed to finally be falling into place. Their marriage and hope in the future was revitalized! And after nine months of perhaps the most physical and emotional pain she had ever been in in her entire life, she was welcoming a beautiful, healthy baby boy into the world and never once thought about the unsettling dream at the start of it all.

Admittedly, Briar was certainly a unique baby. His ears had always been a little odd since birth - bigger than usual - but his parents figured he would just grow into them and found it one of his most endearing traits. However, when he was three years old, that’s when his antlers started coming in. His mother found them one night when she was reading him a bedtime story and running her fingers through his unruly mop of wavy hair. Understandably, she freaked out and brought him to the doctor the next day, who took a biopsy and found the strange growths to primarily be made of calcium. It was unusual, but they decided to simply keep an eye on it since it seemed harmless enough. They only became more noticeable as the years went by, poking through his hair, and Briar recalls the Chinese Buddhists of his neighborhood always telling his mother it was a sign of good fortune. At the time, Briar had always thought it was annoying how they’d always want to lay their hands on him, but he realized as he’d gotten older that they believed the cow was Guanyin’s reincarnated father and the stubby little nubs atop his head made them think he was blessed. But horns and antlers are two different things - one being keratinous and, the other, bone - but he supposed it was easy to confuse them at first glance. Going into adolescence, those things grew like crazy. As if puberty and having velvety twigs growing on your head wasn’t stressful enough, that was when Briar first noticed his parents beginning to drift apart. One night, when coming home late from a friend’s house, he overheard a heated argument between them in the kitchen and his father’s accusations would forever be etched into his mind... “You thought you could trick me forever? I don’t know who knocked you up, but I can’t pretend that thing is my son!” The words drove through him like a knife. Yet after the initial shock subsided, Briar felt for the first time that all the little confusing pieces he’d chosen to overlook his entire life began to make sense. At first his parents had simply assumed he’d taken on more features of his mother, but his father had begun to grow distant as his otherworldly features and powers emerged. The reality was that two humans couldn’t possibly have made a half-deer-whatever-he-was and the only logical explanation was that he wasn’t his father’s at all. He only wished he’d come to that conclusion sooner instead of deluding himself and becoming foolishly attached to the man… The divorce was relatively swift. The judge didn’t even demand a paternity test when his father rebuked having to pay child support. All he had to do was look across the courtroom and he could tell that the speckled, big eared, horned child standing there wasn’t his. It was a dirty, unjust move that besmirched his mother as a disloyal wife and watching her go through that emotional rollercoaster was perhaps the toughest thing of the whole ordeal. Thirteen year old Briar comforted her through the fits of tears and had a strong upper lip when she insisted that she’d never betrayed his father… What bothered him the most was that he couldn’t believe her, but he also couldn’t be angry or blame her either. He had always been closer with his mother and he promised her in those moments of weakness that he would always take care of her. Of course, a single mother with a bad reputation was not an easy gig when trying to support a family. They were forced to move from their smaller town into the teeming metropolis of Bangkok for her to find work and Briar was honestly quite happy with leaving the past behind him. He thrived in the city with its far more diverse population. No one looked at him like he was a freak when he rode the bus or went to buy groceries. It was the first time he felt like he could truly be himself. He had his fair share of rough patches, just like any hormonal teenager, but having otherworldly powers and no one to teach you how to use them certainly caused a few catastrophic, social life obliterating faux pas. His mother thankfully was able to transfer within her company to the Agdoeg branch. It meant not only relocating in the middle of high school for Briar, but moving to an entirely new country. The level of diversity and integration of the supernatural community within Agdoeg was even better than what he’d experienced before. They were in government, owned small businesses… But not all of them were reputable or honest. Briar quickly learned that there were parts of the city that he shouldn’t venture to if he knew what was good for him. However, in spite of the seedier things going on in the underbelly, he was able to find a youth center which helped him to get a better handle on his powers and met his role model who would eventually lead him into his career as a police officer.

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

Briar squeezed his eyes shut tight in an attempt to chase away the spots dancing across his vision from the overbearing fluorescent bulbs that bore down on the table in the center of the interrogation room. It was so intense that he could hear the hum of the electricity going to it and, somehow, he mentally processed that before the weight of the officer’s words. Words he’d uttered himself many times when the roles were flipped. Normally, this was the point a smart suspect would clam up and demand to talk to a lawyer, but clearly this was some kind of joke and he’d just missed the punchline. “Ha. Ha! Very funny.” He gruffed, devoid of amusement as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose to ward off the pounding headache settling in like someone was playing the bass drum behind his eyeballs.

The precinct had all been out drinking the night before, celebrating closing a case that had been busting their proverbial balls for the last six months, and there was a point after countless shots of tequila that Briar didn’t even know what was up and what was down, let alone why they were even there anymore. Now, he didn’t doubt that many profoundly stupid things had fallen from his lips and been done, but he hardly would have thought it would be anything illegal. Officers protected their own and someone less inebriated surely would have stopped him before he did anything he’d regret. Trying to wrack his brain, Briar bent to press his forehead to the cool metal of the table with a pitious groan. He remembered waking up in one of the cells to the sound of the door noisily being opened and before he could even get his bearings, two uniformed men were hauling him up and dragging him down the hallway toward the room he sat in now. None of it made a lick of sense.

“I’m afraid this isn’t a joke, Officer Suwannarat. Something very serious happened tonight and we need you to tell us why.”

The brutally stern voice sobered Briar up really quick and he lifted his head up from the table to narrow his eyes on the man that sat across from him, his fawn-like ears flicking in annoyance. He’d worked on the force for many years now and he wasn’t about to be hassled by some nameless rookie who was probably forced in here by his supervising officer, like a lamb being pushed into a cage with a bear. “Listen- no. What is going on?” He demanded with surprising eloquence for someone who’s tongue felt like a dried up sponge in his mouth. Drunk drought be damned. “Am I under arrest? ‘Cause if I am, you better tell me the charges or else I’m walking right out that door and finding your commanding off-”

What was likely going to be a memorable tirade was cut short as the door to the interrogation room swung open and a handful of officers poured into the small space like salmon all fighting to spawn upstream. All Briar could do was stare wide eyed where he was glued to his seat and watch with no small amount of mortification while a cake was set in front of him with messy lettering iced on top that read ‘Congrats on your Promotion! Now you’re their problem.’ Feeling the mixture of rage and bewilderment quickly begin to ebb away, the corners of Briar’s lips twitched into a crooked smile and he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re fucking kidding me. Who’s terrible idea was this?” He demanded with a mirthless laugh as he deflated back into the hard metal chair and glanced around at the familiar faces of the men and women he’d worked with for the past ten years. God, how had he survived their crazy antics and made it this far?

“What do you mean? We had to give you a memorable send-off.” His partner mounted his defense and slunk out from the crowd to give Briar an encouraging clap on the shoulder. “Besides, do you know how hard it was to carry your heavy ass into the cell to pull this off? The least you could do was say thank you. Geez. Too good for us already, Detective?”

Briar should thank him. That much he’d already mentally concluded. But shoving his partner’s smug face into the cake was also a tempting option. Instead, he reached up to gently pat the other’s hand with his gloved one. “Never.” He assured him gently before a chorus of obnoxious coos from the peanut gallery made sure to not only kill the moment but beat it once it was down. Pushing himself up from the chair, Briar swayed unsteadily and shamelessly grappled a couple of his friends for balance on his route to the door. “Ugh. Alright, get me out of this room before I literally end someone and get stuck here forever. That cake better be chocolate, I swear-”

[dreamcatcherfication]

Ghosts are Just as Real as You and Me

Katherine (Kit) Howard Centric - Word Count: 2,643

This is my first fic for this fandom so I have no idea what I’m doing, but I hope y’all enjoy. I might extend this into a series depending on how well it’s received, but for now it’s just a one shot. I’m also open to requests, so feel free to ask anything and I’ll do my best to deliver. (Nothing too NSFW please). PLEASE DON’T REPOST OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR.

Trigger Warnings: Sexual Assault, Slut Shaming, Rape Mention, Body Horror/Gore, Anxiety Attacks, Gaslighting (wow this is a lot darker than I thought it was, I promise future fics won’t be this intense)

Writing Masterpost

A scream echoed through the queens’ house before silence.

Heavy breathing started a few seconds later.

Then came the sobs, thick with distress and fear.

Staring up at the ceiling, unable to move, Katherine watched Henry Mannox stare down at her. He was hanging from the ceiling by a noose as his body swayed back and forth. His throat was thinner than it should have been, purple and crushed with the weight of his limp body below it. His eyes bulged out of their sockets but remained impassively fixed on Kit. His fingers were pale and bloated, and saliva was slipping from his open mouth.

Almost tauntingly, the drool was hanging above Kit’s paralyzed body, waiting to fall directly onto her face. 

Her body was frozen in place, no matter how much her mind screamed at her to move. Mannox’s mouth moved as he talked, but his voice came from directly inside Kit’s skull. Hey Kitty Kat, he drawled, the drool swinging back and forth with his mouth. Why are you all alone? Shouldn’t you have another man in bed with you? You were always quite the little slut. Continuing to sob, Kit could only watch Mannox hang above her. You left me hanging, he chuckled. Look at me Katherine, Mannox said as if she could turn away, you’re such a tease. Kit wished she could yell at him, tell him to leave her alone. Nothing came out. If you keep misbehaving, I’m going to have to punish you. Bad girls get punished. And you’re being a very bad girl.

The only sounds Kit could make were wails of fear as Mannox’s laughing came out as a guttural choking. His throat bobbed with each sound and his body convulsed from its suspended position. You can’t escape me Kitty Kat. I need you. And I will have you, no matter where you hide. You belong to me.

The noose snapped and Mannox fell from the ceiling. Right as he landed on Kit, she jerked forward and went tumbling off her bed and onto the hardwood floor. Shaking with her entire body, Kit held her arms close to her chest and curled into a fetal position. The grisly image of Mannox above her was still embedded in her head. 

What could’ve been hours later, Kit resolved to stand up and check her bed. Standing up on shaky legs like a newborn deer, it took her a few tries to successfully get up. Closing her eyes and stepping up to the bed, the girl mentally prepared herself for anything. Ripping her eyes open and putting her arms up defensively, Kit looked at the bed.

It was empty, the only decoration being her sweat soaking through the top two layers of the sheets. Breathing out in relief, Kit collapsed back onto the bed. Inhaling, she was met with the smell of her cousin. Reveling in the smell for a moment, Kit felt calm. Then she furrowed her eyebrows and stood up. 

Anne usually came to check up on Kit during the night, but she was nowhere to be found. Furthermore, why had no one come to investigate her room when she screamed? The first night she had nightmares, Anna had burst into the room with fire in her eyes looking for an intruder, only to find Kit. She had stayed with her through the night, even when the other queens awoken by her distress returned to their rooms.

Sitting up but not leaving the bed, Kit called out, “Hello?” as if someone was going to respond to that. Sighing, Kit mentally berated herself for thinking that Anne would magically appear out of thin air. It still sent a small pang of hurt through her chest when none of the other queens responded. They’re probably asleep, it’s unfair of me to bother them, Kit reminded herself. They all had their own problems to deal with and she had no right to force them to take care of her. After all, Kit wasn’t some little girl who needed the queens. She could deal with Mannox on her own.

Even if… even if she still felt his breath against her neck. Still felt his hands on her waist. Still heard the sweet words. Still felt helpless.

Shutting her eyes tight, Kit started to mumble under her breath, “He’s not real, he’s not here, he’s not real, he’s not here -”. It became like a mantra, the words swirling together until her speech was almost incoherent. She stayed like this for a while, her brain unable to comprehend anything else. 

And then out of the blue came a knock at her door. Shooting up off the bed and racing towards the door, Kit pulled the door open and threw herself into the waiting arms of one of queens. She held the queen close to her and started crying into their shirt. A hand came up to stroke her hair, a large, familiar hand. Freezing at the movement, Kit’s breathing halted. The other hand came to wrap around Kit’s waist and grip her tightly.

Pulling her hair down roughly and forcing her to look up, Katherine made eye contact with Francis Dereham and his ungodly smirk. His slimy hands were on her body once more, and no matter how much she wanted to, there was nothing Kit could do. She tried to pull back, started thrashing in his arms, but he was bigger and stronger. She was no match for him.

Dragging her back to the bed, Dereham sat down and held Kit against his chest. She was kicking and crying, begging for him to release her, but it was almost as if he was deaf. I’ve missed you Kitty, he whispered to her. Dereham’s tongue was completely black and he looked like death itself whilst speaking with it. It’s a shame you had to move away. You didn’t come back to me. What was I supposed to do without my favorite whore? His words were just like Mannox’s, coming from within her own head, making it impossible for her to block them out.

Aw, there’s no need to cry, Dereham taunted, we’ve got all the time in the world. And I plan to use every last second.

“No!” Kit cried, but it was too late. Dereham picked her up and twirled her around so that their faces were inches apart. Grabbing her cheeks, he angrily kissed her with his terrible, rough lips. It was unnatural, the way his lips felt like stone, crushing hers under their weight. He was an immovable object, but she was no unstoppable force. 

Putting her hands on his chest, Kit pushed at Dereham and squirmed, attempting anything to get out of his grip. Her mind was flashing with memories, reminders of a time before her second life. All the men who would do as Dereham was now. All the nights he would come into her room despite her telling him no. His lecherous desires.

As if she was suddenly gifted with super strength, Kit managed to push Dereham off of her and scramble back to the edge of the bed. Her head snapped up in fear of what he would do in his anger from her rejection, but was shocked to see her bed empty. Once again she was alone, accompanied only by the ringing in her ears.

Katherine, she heard, Oh Katherine. Whipping her head back and forth, Kit hugged herself in terror. Dereham may have disappeared, but his voice still echoed in her skull. You have no right to push me away. I’m the only one who will ever care for you, and you reject me?

“Anne cares about me,” Kit said softly. And then louder, “Anne cares about me. And so do the other queens!” Dereham’s laugh was distorted and left Kit shivering, despite the stuffiness of her room that kept getting smaller and smaller.

None of them care about you, he hissed. Kit whimpered and bit her lip. Was he right? Of course… of course the queens cared about her. Right? She didn’t feel very convinced by her empty reassurances. They pity you, but they don’t care. Anne only takes care of you because she’s trying to feel better about herself. Jane just wants to replace Edward, and you’re her only other option. The last choice. And Anna? She never cared, why would she? To her, you’re just a scared little child who keeps ruining her life. And don’t get me started on the other two Catherines. What is it they call you? The least relevant Katherine? 

By now, Kit was sobbing, digging her fingernails into her hands. She didn’t want to listen to his words, but she couldn’t bring herself to disregard them. It was true, after all. No one had ever cared about her. Not her father, not her step-grandmother, not even the queens. The only ones who were still here were the men who had held her unforgivingly, who had possessed her. Katherine hated how she found sick comfort in knowing that they were still here.

Slowly, an itching came over her skin. There was a hand in her hair. One around her waist. Another wrapping around her neck. Crawling up her leg. On her breasts, dipping lower and lower, on her face, pulling at her clothes, wanting more and more and more and more - 

Launching herself at the door, Kit ran down the hall in an attempt to get rid of the phantom hands. The sound of Dereham laughing still rang in her mind, but it was growing fainter the further she ran. Running up the steps to the attic, Kit continued to bat at the hands that she still felt on her body. Her hands kept moving through thin air, but the feeling of the cold, calloused grips wouldn’t fade.

Without a second thought, Kit practically tore Anne’s door off its hinges in her desperate bid to get inside. Rushing to her cousin’s sleeping form in her bed, Kit shook the other queen awake. “Annie, please, they’re here, I need you!”

Rolling over in the bed, Katherine came face to face with Thomas Culpeper instead of her cousin. The hands roaming her body froze as if they were just as shocked to see him as Kit was. There was a jagged red line circling his neck, thick with blood in the same place her own scar rested. When he smiled, his teeth were stained red with blood. The thick liquid was all over Anne’s bedsheets and they coated Culpeper’s clothing, the same courtier outfit Katherine was so familiar with. 

Backing away from Culpeper, Kit started to hyperventilate. “Not him,” she whispered to herself without realizing she was speaking out loud, “Anyone but him.” Despite how terrified she was of Mannox and Dereham, she would rather deal with them a hundred times over than face Thomas. He hadn’t said a word or moved from his spot, but already Katherine was thrust back in time to her memories of the past. 

His sweet words that she longed to hear. His loving embrace, open and friendly. Then his… Then his betrayal. His demanding hands. His lustful eyes. His insatiable desires.  

Katherine had been married to Henry, regardless of if she loved him or not. She didn’t see Thomas as a romance, as something more than just a friend. She only wanted to be his friend. What didn’t he get about that? When she told him to stop, why hadn’t he? She kept telling him she didn’t want it, she didn’t want him. Why did he have to have her? Why did they always want her?

In her daze of memories, Kit hadn’t noticed Culpeper standing up and moving to her frozen form next to the door. She was only jerked back into reality when she felt his hands start to roam her body. Squeaking, Kit tried to push him away, but Culpeper was insistent. There were no phantom hands this time, just his two.

It’s finally my turn, Culpeper growled, his voice chilling Kit deep into her heart. When he moved his mouth, blood came spewing out. Bits of it landed on her face, stinging like acid. For a horny slut, he grunted, you can be such prude. I never asked much of you, and you denied me of what I deserve. You have no right to disobey me, and you still try. Kit grasped for the doorknob behind her, but it had mysteriously vanished.

Kit looked for any way to escape Culpeper but he had trapped her in between the door and his body. Even as she tried to block out his voice, she could still hear him louder than either Mannox or Dereham. He was like a megaphone in her head, leaving her rattled whenever he spoke. Don’t you know you’re nothing more than a possession? You’re not worthy of being anything more than a toy. It’s foolish of you to pretend otherwise. 

She shook her head, trying to deny his words. “You’re wrong. Annie says you’re wrong!”

No! Culpeper bellowed. You still believe the words of someone like Anne Boleyn over mine? I am the only one who has loved you so fervently for all these years, and you turn to Anne Boleyn, a known liar? You never were smart my little Kitty, but I did think you would have enough sense not to trust that witch. If Anne actually cared about you, she’d be here right now.

Kit wanted to retort, to yell at Culpeper, but she didn’t know what she could say. She wanted him to stop. She still didn’t want him, even after almost 500 years. But he had never listened to her and she couldn’t find her voice. The only person that’s here right now is me. I love you Katherine. You have no right to deny a man his pleasure. You keep denying us, but we know truly what you are.

A tease, Mannox spoke from the back of her skull.

Little slut, she heard Dereham floating around her brain.

Useless, Culpeper spit in her face.

Fading in from nowhere, Katherine felt the hands of Dereham and Mannox joining Culpeper’s. Mannox somehow came from behind her, his body pressed between hers and the wall. He was stroking her waist and stomach, his bloated fingers like needles against her skin. Dereham was at her side, once again playing with her hair, his pulling being as skilled as a master puppeteer. 

Culpeper forced Katherine’s eyes to look directly into his with a hand gripping her chin. You will forever belong to us. So stop fighting. With his bloody mouth, Culpeper leaned forward for a kiss, and Kit let out a gut wrenching scream before everything went black. 

Jerking forward in her bed, Kit glanced around for any sign of Mannox, Dereham, or Culpeper. Everything in her room was as she left it, and she was still as wrapped up in her sheets as she had been earlier that night. No intruders were in her head, the only voice being her own quiet, terrified one. She could still feel the phantom hands, albeit faintly, and there was no pain anywhere on her body. Kit sighed in some small amount of relief. However horrible it all had been, it was only a dream.

Looking up from the past the foot of the bed, Kit made eye contact with a figure standing over her bed. Freezing, Kit’s eyes widened as she realized who she was looking at. Imposingly tall and just as large as she remembered stood the illustrious King Henry VIII. He was wearing modern clothing and he looked a tad bit healthier than Kit remembered, but he still had the same unstable glint in his eye. A small smirk sat upon his face as he looked down at Katherine.

“Hello my rose without a thorn,” he said. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”