#she’s just. very relaxed. she treats us with agency and it’s like a breath of fresh air

[mars-ipan]

man my animation teacher is so cool. she’s such a chill person and i trust her a whole lot :)

[misscammiedawn]

50 Days of HypnoKink - Day 37: Fae Play

Alignment: 100% Miss Dawn Only food.

Can I have a moment of your time?

-----

And that's why I think that signing Fae contracts is fun and you should watch what you say very carefully! You don't know when a Fae will reach in and make it so you can't even remember what happened. They can steal your name. Your words. Your agency.

Fae deal in words and words have power.

Rather than describe this concept, I thought I'd write a new addition to my Madison/Belladonna series highlighting it:

---

Faelike.

It was a word Donna used to describe herself often. It was a fairly accurate description but it was hard to pin down in words exactly what it represented. But it was there. In the way she carried herself, in the way her hands flourished, in the seductive growls of her natural speech patterns.

Donna enjoyed being called Faelike. In her view words gave her power and the power of words fueled her entire aesthetic and presentation. There was no greater compliment than to be considered akin to a being that treated conversation as contract.

“One must be careful when making deals with the Fae.” she warned with a dangerous grin, “We often find ourselves taking far more than you may think you’re going to offer.”

Madison raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed. “Oh really.” She taunted, flatly. She was in her bratty mood. There were times when Donna’s self-assured overconfidence met against Madison’s smirking resilience and created truly memorable scenes.

“I feel it’s fair to describe the rules and ensure that you understand them, then. Though I may very well take away your waking awareness at the end of our discussion– pending your reaction, of course.”

“Promises promises…” Madison grinned, eyes sharply engaged with Donna’s, “You haven’t told me what exactly you’re planning, yet.”

Donna’s hands moved in a flourish, framing her face as she beamed performatively, “For the duration of this scene I would like it so that any agreement that we make, no matter how trivial, be open to my interpretation. I intend to be playful about it, but just know during this scene if you agree to anything then I’ll have it, command it and control it.”

“You seem to do that anyway, Miss Donna.”

“Perhaps, but this is a little more fun, don’t you think?”

“As you say, Miss Donna.”

“So what I intend to do is trance you, suggest that when I feel something has been said that is worthy of a contract, I’ll use a pause trigger and tell you how it has impacted you. That does mean that consent will have to be a bit malleable for the in-the-moment suggestions.”

“You know what you’re supposed to avoid and I know how to resist and reject a suggestion that I don’t like.” Madison clarified, seriously. Safety was a topic that should not be joked around.

“I may still use the frozen time to ensure your compliance, but I’ll be trusting you there.”

“As I trust you.”

Donna closed her eyes and sighed. The trust she shared with Madison was what allowed her to do what she does. Without knowing how well she could self-advocate and provide feedback, even in the moment, she would never feel comfortable enough to give all she was capable of giving.

“Very well. Would you prefer to remember our discussion or go in blind?” Donna asked with a smirk.

“I think it will be best to go in blind.” Madison shot back.

“As you wish, beloved. Then focus. Focus on my eyes. Focus on my voice. Find yourself being wrapped up comfortably and tightly by my presence, my words, my power. Just fall in. Relax. Don’t fight it. Just breathe in calm and deep— and drop.”

Madison’s chin dipped, her mind opened.

And she listened.

-

Madison returned with a heavy blink. Her thoughts were clear and she understood what they were about to do but the rules were less something she knew and more something she understood. An innate trust like riding a bicycle. It was a feeling that she could lean into when the time called for it.

“Welcome back, beloved.” how are you feeling?

“Good…” she cautiously grinned, eyeing her partner, “You’re planning something.” “Always!” Donna boasted with a dramatic gesture, “And I think trying to work it out makes it all the more fun.”

“I’d just best be careful how I speak and then I’ll be fine, then.”

Donna looked Madison over carefully, sizing her up before starting her little game in earnest, “Well let’s start slow. Can I have your name?”

“My name is my own and I do not offer it to you, Miss Donna. Though I am sure you know it is Madison.”

“Ah, I see. So you’ve already decided how you wish to play this, my dear?”

“I do know how I wish to play this,” Madison confirmed, carefully avoiding phrasing that could be used against her, “I imagine that if I had said Yes you could have treated that as asking me if I was your dear?”

Donna’s eyebrows raised, happy to be met with a worthy opponent, “That sounds like a devious way to approach things, my love. I imagine you would have to be careful if I were such a cheap and horrid trickster who would stoop so low to get a reaction from you.”

Madison said nothing, watching and waiting, every sentence was now an invite and a challenge. She did not need to return every statement with a counter. Silence was as much of a reply at times and it was a safer one too.

“Oh come now, we could sit in silence if it would please you, beloved, but I know it is more fun to engage.”

“Oh I am well aware. And I am being cautious, not cowardly.”

“Do you think…?” Donna lingered on the implied ‘I’m cowardly’. Madison wanted to roll her eyes at how weak that attempt was.

“Yes. I do think, Miss. I am quite capable of thinking and you have not taken that from me yet.”

“Fine. I would say we are both firmly familiar with the rules at this stage and as always you prove yourself to be ample competition for me, lass.”

“Thank you, Miss Donna.” Madison coyly responded, she loved teasing her partner when she was on the offensive. Her reactions were lovely and she always made her pay for it.

“Then I suppose I had best change tactics and be a little less obvious.” Donna boasted, “Though it’s only fair that you play along. I do love it when you struggle in futile resistance, but I think we can both agree it is more fun when you go along with my little whims.”

Madison raised an eyebrow and lowered her chin, that look she gave that said ‘I know what you’re doing’ better than words ever could, “Who said I couldn't resist while playing along with the spirit of the rules?” she asked sweetly.

Donna’s own expression scrunched up in a mix of amusement and playful frustration, “I have to step up my game, don’t I?”

“I am quite certain you will do your best, Miss Donna. There’s no need to cheat.”

“Aw…” Donna mock pouted, “But I love to cheat.”

“I know you do, love.” Madison proudly responded, beaming, “I look forward to seeing how you try.”

Donna paused a beat and let out a fond breath of patience. What she liked about Madison above all of the other people that she had played with is that Madison always made her earn it which pushed her to new heights and within those new heights came incredible new ideas.

Fortunately, as much as Madison was starting to recognize her habits and combat them effectively, Donna was learning Madison’s own patterns. It was a joy to subvert them.

“Very well.” she stated calmly, raising her hands. “Then are you watching closely?”

Madison settled back, watching with a mingle of amusement and curiosity, “Is this a magic trick?” she asked, playfully.

Donna closed her hands and looked expectantly at her partner, waiting for her to take this seriously before proceeding. Madison settled back and, satisfied, Donna opened her hands again. “Okay. Are you paying attention?”

“You’ve used that one before!” Madison heckled giddily.

“Perhaps.” Donna chuckled, leaning forward, “But you did pay attention to me last time and you will pay attention to me this time. Won’t you, my love?”

Donna theatrically swung her hands to that her dominant index finger was pointing at her partner and the other was pressed on the tip of her own nose.

“Yes, Miss Donna”, Madison responded automatically.

A beat passed and Madison exploded into an emotional flurry, “HEY! That’s not fair!” she all but cried out.

“Who said anything about fair?” Donna retorted, “I may be of the fair folk, but I already told you… I like to cheat.”

Madison stuck her tongue out at her partner and folded her arms. She was growing red from embarrassment.

“Oh come now, my dear. It’s okay. You said you were going to give me all of your attention?”

Madison’s nostrils flared as she attempted to dodge what was obviously going to happen, Donna swung the triggering gesture again and her resistance was proven futile.

“Yes, Miss Donna.” she repeated.

“Good girl. And now I command and control your attention once again, you can just focus. That’s right. Focus on my words and focus on my fingers as they flutter above you.”

Donna’s fingers danced a butterfly induction above her eyeline. Madison’s eyelids fluttered as she followed the swaying and sweeping, back and forth gestures before.

“Drop.”

She sunk her chin to her chest and surrendered to sleep.

“That’s right…” Donna chuckled, victoriously, “Though you can just let that whole ‘Yes, Miss Donna’ trigger fade from memory once again, you know it is much more fun if you just box that up and store it with all the fun things we put aside for our little back and forth. I promise you’ll get everything returned to you at the end of the night as always. But it’ll be much more fun to just let this fade away for the moment.”

Even entranced, Madison’s tongue made a bratty appearance to berate Donna’s cheating schemes, but she did not flag resistance beyond the playful display.

“Is that ‘Yes, Miss Donna’?”

“Yes, Miss Donna.”

“That’s my good girl. Then forgetting the trigger and slowly returning to full awareness, I’d like you to come back in 3—2—-1…”

Madison blinked awake with a frown. She knew there were shenanigans afoot but she could not prove it. Which of course meant that she was going along with it. She could still act up her half of the equation. It made things more fun for both of them.

“Eyes on me, love.” Donna said, softly. Madison’s eyes magnetically pulled to her partner and refused to leave. She was still suggestible from the end of the previous trance.

“I wanted to try something again. May I?”

Madison bit back the urge to respond ‘You may.’ and instead returned a question for a question, “What do you wish to try, love?”

The Fae grinned broadly, “Still defensive, are you? Good. I was going to ask for your name again. May I have your name, my love?”

Madison poutily folded her arms again, she could sense on some level that this was a trick. She did not know what direction it was going and thus could not defend.

“Oh come on now… All I am asking for is a name. May I have it?”

She performed a quick gesture and Madison’s lips responded before her brain even picked up on it. “Yes, Miss Donna.”

Donna’s eyes flashed with victory, “Good girl. Pause.”

Madison stopped moving.

She could still blink and there were signs of her breathing, but she was frozen in position. 

“And for the rest of this scene, I have your name. You can just pack that away for a time. Knowing like all things it will be returned, but for now you are whatever title I give you. Pet. Toy. Plaything. You will know when I address you that it is your title because I have your name, so any name I give you is the one you have. And you’ll go along with that until the end of this scene.”

She paused and just watched Madison’s frozen face. A part of her regretted doing this under a freeze trigger where she couldn’t savor the facial reactions of each name hitting. She made a mental note to do this again without the pause trigger when the time was right.

“Unpause.” she finally said, standing back.

Donna’s girlfriend blinked. Normally at the end of trance her blinks were firm, like wiping cobwebs from the mind and clearing the inner static. This one was a gentle blink of mild confusion.

“How are you feeling, my love?” Donna sang merrily.

Donna’s love looked up, something was missing, there was a hazy fuzz where it was, but grasping for it yielded nothing but static. “Good?” was the only word that could be offered.

Concern outweighed dominant energy for a moment and Donna lowered her tone, “You look confused, lass. This is an intense one, I just want to check-in and see if you’re okay.”

Lass started to nod, then stopped, took a breath, and closed her eyes. After a moment of consideration, she nodded firmly.

“Okay then, toy.” Donna growled, ramping herself back into scene space, “As long as you consent, I’ll continue.”

“Yes, Miss Donna.” Toy responded.

“For this next bit I may require assistance. Plaything, may I have a hand?”

“Yes, Miss Donna.” Plaything chirped.

“Pause.” Donna watched as the trigger took hold again, and barreled on, “When I address your hand it will do exactly what I say. I have your hand. It is mine now. I get to do with it whatever I please. Unpause.”

There was no blink this time, the rebound was instant. Pet raised herself to full height and looked expectantly.

“What?” Donna asked, playfully.

“I know that expression.” she joked, “You did something else, didn’t you?”

“I really can’t get one up on you, can I darling?” 

Darling’s hair bounced back and forth as she shook her head, “Nu-uh, I’m too smart.”

“Maybe, but I’m commanding. Your intelligence and your wit both turn to serve me.”

Toy’s shoulders drew back as her head dipped. Her eyes remained focused on Donna, pleading.

“Hand, run up the back of her scalp.” Donna suddenly commanded.

The hand drew up and slid up, hair spilling between the fingers. Lass just looked at Donna expectantly, knowing what was going to happen next.

“Make a fist.” she commanded, her love hissed out in delight as her own possessed hand seized a clump of hair and held firm. She dangled on the tension, whimpering openly.

“That’s it… good lass. Just like that. And release.”

The hand dropped down harmlessly. Donna watched her toy’s face as it slowly recovered from that.

With a smirk, she added, “Hand, caress her cheek.” and enjoyed the reprieve as it obeyed.

Toy’s shoulders sank as the hand returned to her side. “Oh, love…” she sighed, a little giddy from sliding in and out of trance.

Donna beamed, affectionately. “You are just so much fun, my love.”

“Thank you!” Donna’s love sang, “I like when you play with me!"

“You make it so richly rewarding, my sweet.” Donna giggled to herself, barely able to contain her delight, “Oh what shall I take from you next, my dear?” 

“I’d give you my heart… but you already have it!” Donna’s plaything slurred, giddy from fractionation. With a broad grin she swung her arm out and pointed to a plastic red bead hanging from a string on Donna’s shelf. “See, there!”

Donna turned and looked at the trinket. Memories of how their relationship began flooded her so powerfully that she needed to suppress the bubbling emotions from within that threatened to overwhelm her and drag her from Top Space.

“Right you are, my beautiful toy.” she sighed, affection restrained but oh so powerfully present, “How can I take that which was freely offered. Your heart is mine, your hand is mine, your mind is mine. I’ve nothing more to take but you, my love. For this moment, just say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours…” pet sighed blissfully.

“That you are. Good girl.” Donna chuckled, “Let me guide your hand to caress your cheek. Know it happens by my will.”

The Fae’s possession did as she was bidden.

“I am a good trickster, though, and though I do like all you have so kindly offered me, my darling, I shall return all that I claimed with thanks for letting me borrow it.” she claimed the heart and moved it to hang from the string before plaything’s eyes, “Except for this. This I keep.”

Toy’s eyes closed, “As you wish, Miss Donna.”

“I still hold your attention.” Donna firmly declared and her love’s eyes opened wide with a gasp, “And right now I guide that attention to this focus. You will watch it. You will follow it. I know you’re already so fractionated. You can’t resist.”

“Can’t resist.” plaything whispered to herself.

“Good toy… slipping back under my spell and letting everything return to place. Feeling me love you, adore you, treasure you and hold you. You are your own woman again and all that was taken can softly be restored. But I will continue to hold a piece of your heart, as I know you hold a piece of mine. My beautiful Madison.”

Madison smiled a sleepy smile, “Love you…” she whispered softly.

“I love you too.”

---

Day 36: Guided Fantasy

FULL SCHEDULE MASTER POST

Day 38: "Feel what you see" suggestions

[dazaiizm]

꒦꒷ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 ﹒₊‧

featuring — armed detective agency, akagi angeline (oc), takamoto yumi (oc)

summary — the armed detective agency has a beach episode.

warnings — bsd x oc’s: dazai x oc, ranpo x oc, atsushi x oc, chaotic fun, slight angst, dazai brings a date that’s not angeline, suggestive content, smoking weed, fluff, mentions of traumatic backstories, japanese honorifics used

notes from dazai’s star: hi everyone ! i watched to publish my first oneshot here <3 it’s a beach episode because i luv beach episodes. also i do not intend to promote smoking weed in any way ! angeline self medicates so pls do not bash her for it. also also heads up, angeline has more of an hourglass figure compared to her face claim (i mean she has a succubus ability come on)

per yosano’s request, the armed detective agnecy had a beach day. they didn’t do any work and took the day off to relax at the beach.

“y—you look very pretty, yumi-chan,” atsushi stammered, seeing her in a black bikini. “oh, thanks atsushi-san!” she exclaimed, smiling brightly. he was a sucker for her smile, causing his face to flush.

angeline, on the other hand, refused to change into her swimsuit. yes, she did bring it. but, she was way to insecure to actually wear it in front of her found family, who in all honesty, found her beautiful the way she is. she stayed in her shorts and oversized shirt.

“where’s dazai-san?” atsushi asked curiously. “he should be here,” doppo mentioned, checking his watch.

“sorry we’re late!” osamu exclaimed, having his arm around an unknown girl. angeline felt her heart sink. he brought a date? after oozing possessiveness the last time they slept together?

angeline lowered her head. “dazai! this was supposed to be armed detective agency only! you can’t just bring a date,” kunikida yelled at him.

“relax, kunikida-kun. it’s not that big of a deal.” not that big of a deal? angeline’s mind was spiraling. why would he bring a date if he had angeline to dote on? was she not that important to him?

kunikida adjusted his breathing. “fine, just don’t do it again.” “okay!” dazai exclaimed. “hi everyone, i’m kaori,” the girl introduced herself. the agency greeted her back.

yumi glanced at angeline, frowning at her somber state. “hey, don’t worry about him. the fact that he brought a date shows how much of an idiot he is for not making a move on you,” she told her, making angel-chan smile slightly.

the black-haired girl rubbed her shoulder reassuringly.

“dazai-san really messed up this time,” atsushi told yumi, now in the ocean. “you bet, i can only imagine how angeline-chan feels,” yumi agreed, swaying her arms back and forth to stay afloat.

atsushi frowned. he didn’t want akagi to be treated like that, especially by the one she loved so dearly. although, there was one other person in the agency that caught her eye.

“angel-chan, wanna play volleyball?” ranpo called out, holding a volleyball in his hands. “sure!” she exclaimed, face brightening. ranpo couldn’t help but smile to himself, grateful her mood improved, even the slightest.

“be on my team, pleaseeeee angel-chan!” ranpo pouted and pleaded. the blonde chuckled, “sure, i’ll be on your team.” she sent a wink his way, making his cheeks flush a tiny shade of pink.

the two played with the agency while yumi and atsushi held a conversation in the water. angeline won several rounds. she took her anger out on the volleyball, slamming it past the opposing team’s hands.

“wow angel-chan, you’re really good!” yosano told her. “thanks,” she replied bashfully. “you are! do you have any experience in playing?” kaori asked, making her tense up.

turning to her, she forced a smile. “no, i don’t. just.. taking pent-up anger on the ball,” she chuckled weakly. kaori nodded.

a new round started and kaori managed to score. what set akagi off the edge was when she ran into dazai’s arms, which he eagerly wrapped his arms around her waist.

she stormed off silently, grabbing her purse along the way.

she headed towards the bathroom. yumi and atsushi saw her walking away from the group, knowing immediately what was up. yumi felt a pit in her stomach. she wanted to help, but didn’t have any ideas.

“hey, what’s wrong?” atsushi asked, seeing her melancholy expression. “nothing i just…i wish i could do something for angeline-san to help her experience true happiness…like how i feel when i’m with you,” she explained.

“o—oh.” atsushi avoided eye contact, flustered. “i agree, angeline-san deserves happiness.” “if only dazai-san would stop fucking around,” she huffed, turning back to him. her tense face softened when she locked eyes with him. everything felt at peace when she was with him.

on the other hand, angeline was not feeling peace. she bawled her eyes out in the bathroom. her sad cries and pleas for love would make anyone’s heart ache.

if dazai saw her now, he would do everything in his power to make angel-chan feel loved. but, since angeline declined his offer for a double suicide on multiple occasions, he sought after other women, trying to fill the missing void that only angeline was able to fill.

“why osamu? why must you do this to me?” she questioned to herself. she finally pulled the joint out and lit the tip. inhaling the weed into her veins, she felt immediate peace now.

“this is good shit,” she said, looking at her joint. she took another, long hit. smoke clouded her vision, which she smirked to. the more weed in her system, the better.

after getting so high she couldn’t feel the pain of dazai osamu, she contemplated changing into her bikini. “fuck it,” she thought, grabbing the two-piece out of her purse.

her red bikini highlighted her curves perfectly. although, angeline didn’t feel that way. she felt as if her chest was too small and stomach was too fat. she barely ate much, so she didn’t have any fat on her tummy.

she had a confidence boost at the time, so she didn’t care. exiting the bathroom, she tossed the finished joint in the garbage, making her way over to the group who were roasting marshmallows.

akagi took a seat next to ranpo, inching close to him. ranpo glanced at her outfit, eyes widening. “well, don’t you look nice?” he smirked. “thanks,” angel-chan said bashfully.

“hey, i’m high right now. do you mind roasting a marshmellow for me? i don’t wanna screw anything up,” she whispered in his ear, sending chills down his spine with her tone.

“s—sure,” he said, gulping down his marshmellow and placing a new one on his stick.

“you like her, don’t you?” kaori asked osamu, looking at him. “who?” dazai asked, a bit nervous. “the blonde,” she mentioned, pointing to her and ranpo giggling over something.

“oh, angel-chan.” he lowered his head from facing the two. “i can see it in your eyes,” she told him. dazai figured he’d just admit it, she already knew his answer, after all.

“yes, i’m in love with angel-chan.”

kaori nodded. “so, does that mean i’m just a distraction?” “n���no, of course not!” dazai shook his head frantically. she might’ve been, but dazai knew angeline wouldn’t forgive him if he just used girls as a distraction. he didn’t know though.

“it’s fine if i am, i understand the feeling,” she said, facing ranpo and luma again. dazai just looked at her. “i was in love with a married man. i couldn’t help but want him, despite him being my best friend’s husband,” the woman admitted.

“oh, i see,” dazai affirmed, nodding. it wasn’t entirely the same situation, but they could go hand-in-hand. “he then died in a car crash three months later, i couldn’t comfort my friend because i was going through my own grief—it’s one of my biggest regrets.”

the brunette wiped a tear from her face. “did you…ever talk to her again?” “yes, i admitted to her my feelings, being as honest as possible. she had a feeling, and was grateful her husband never returned them. i’m grateful for that too.”

“so, you’re still friends?” dazai inquired. “yes,” kaori replied, giving a single nod. “so…” she trailed off, turning to face osamu. “my advice is to talk to her, tell her how you feel. but, i understand if you’re not ready yet,” she advised, however not forcefully.

the suicidal maniac sighed, looking back at ranpo and angeline. he figured maybe kaori was right. but, what about ranpo? he’d be heartbroken if they started dating. neither angel-chan or osamu wanted him to be in pain.

he knew angeline liked ranpo as well. which made his heart swell in jealousy. she wanted both, but he wanted her to himself—all his.

dazai had to look away when they shared a marshmallow together. nobody was looking but him, so no one told them to knock off the PDA.

when it became darker, the agency packed up and began heading back to the agency. ranpo agreed to let angeline stay at his dorm since she didn’t want to be around her child, yuri, while she self-medicated.

he ran angeline a bath and washed her hair, the intimacy made both of them extremely flustered. angeline, being the lovesick yet touch-starved fool she is, didn’t know how to embrace the feeling, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

ranpo then allowed her to sleep in his bed while he respectfully tried taking the couch. “ranpo-san, can you maybe.. stay with me tonight?” the lovesick fool asked, pleaded almost. the look in her eyes was impossible to say no to.

he eased into bed beside her, keeping his respective distance. but, angel wanted to be closer. she scooted closer to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“have you ever fallen in love?” angeline asked out of nowhere. “in love?” ranpo questioned. “mhm,” angel hummed, lifting her head up and looked at him. “i…guess i did.”

“what did it feel like?” her eyes looked longing, like she craved something—that something was love. “it..it feels like cloud nine one minute and hell the next,” he explained honestly. angel nodded. “that’s what love is,” she said solemnly. she craved love and intimacy so much, but forgets the pain and suffering love has put her through in the past.

“it doesn’t have to be,” he told her, making her look up into his eyes. “if only you liked me back, then it wouldn’t have to be pain and suffering,” he confessed, voice growing a little quieter.

“you…you like me?” “love,” he corrected, “i’m in love with you, angel-chan.” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. she blushed profusely, averting eye contact.

“how can i believe you?” she asked, knowing he could easily be lying. although, ranpo has never lied to her. ever.

ranpo leaned in, hovering his lips over hers. she kissed him, and it felt like the world stopped. all ranpo could hear were their heartbeats and the soft sighs that fell into his mouth.

he ran his hands through her damp hair, pulling him onto his lap. “i love you too, ranpo,” she whispered, pecking his lips. “it’s us against the world, my dear.”

[angelamajiki]

Damn that Bully Dabi and Hawks fic was an amazing read! I love it when you write them full on bastard mode!

Pro Hero Bakugou sexually harassing his weak quirkless secretary who does her very best at her job. She's good at it but Bakugou always looks mad (read: sexually frustrated). High on success after a good rescue, he wants to celebrate....

OR

Cop Bakugou sees a pretty little thing outside a club. She looks sus so he decides she needs a pat down. Maybe he'll plant something to blackmail her into doing certain favors. Very bully, very bastard Bakugou.

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Bakugou x Secretary! Quirkless! AFAB! Reader

CW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, dirty talk, choking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, scumbage bakugou, use of the word rape, quirkless reader, size difference, age gap, death threats, sexual harrassment, bullying, mindbreak, masturbation, office sex

AN: I’ll probably write the cop Bakugo at some point too! For now, mind the tags and enjoy :)

They say to never meet your idols and in retrospect, you wished you would have listened.

Try as you might, it seemed like Mr. Dynamight was never satisfied with your work. Admittedly, you joined his agency as his office secretary based on having a crush on the pro, but you assumed his brash nature would calm down in an office setting. You did everything he asked, obediently followed his every word, which was all met with harsh glares and what you thought were dissatisfied grunts.

Surely you thought it wouldn't be about your being quirkless, but rumors were high strung in the office about the blonde’s feeling towards those without quirks. It would explain the harsh glares and judgment he passed on you despite your work effort.

The man even went as far as to ask for your personal phone number, only to leave scathing voicemails whenever you couldn't show up to work or miss out on work gatherings he put together. You couldn't help but flush at the thought of him missing your presence. Maybe you were just bad at reading his signals? Or maybe he was just hell-bent on bullying you more than the rest of the staff.

The job paid very well, so you couldn't exactly up and leave based on his behavior. However, you did notice how...handsy Mr. Dynamight has become with you. It was subtle at first, brushing shoulders in the hallways, letting his fingers ghost against yours when he handed you paperwork.

It soon escalated to always having a hand on your shoulder, holding your hips when he had to brush behind you, towering over you from behind your chair when you showed him something. You couldn't say that you weren't flattered, but his rough demeanor remained.

It started becoming uncomfortable when he made passes at you, making sure you were cornered and alone when he did.

“C’mon, am I really that fuckin’ intolerable that you can't get lunch with me, pipsqueak?”

You assumed that he was just messing with you, so you always turned him down with a flushed face and ran back to your desk, leaving him blue balled and more desperate by the day. There's no way a pro hero like him would actually be interested in someone quirkless and weak like yourself.

But that's the reason why he liked you anyway. So small, so weak, so obedient, so perfect for him to fuck up. God, if he didn't want just to rip your tiny pencil skirt to threads and spear you on his cock like no tomorrow. A pretty thing like yourself shouldn't be working. No, no, no. You should be at home, in his home in his bed with his ring on your finger. You belong to him, don't you see that?

Katsuki only ever gives you the time of day, not those other stupid bitches who crawl up his ass every morning trying to get a crumb of attention. And what do you do with his precious time? Waste it. Always whining about how you really shouldn't, that he shouldn't be seen with someone like you. As if he gives a fuck about what the media has to say.

He even checks up on you when you're not at work! Isn't he such a gentleman? Sure, he's a bit vulgar, but he's trying to show he cares. But if you want to act like a stuck-up bitch, then he’ll gladly treat you like one.

After a particularly tough fight with a villain, the blonde wanted nothing more than to use and abuse you to get some steam off his chest. It was late, but he prayed to whatever gods were out there that you were still in the office. He left you a voicemail for good measure, hoping that you would do what you always did best and stayed obedient for him.

It was locked up for the night, but he could see your office light on from the street. Perfect. Such a good girl for him. Little did he know that you stayed late quiet often.

You hadn't even seen his previous call come through; you were too busy listening to an old one with plenty of derogatory terms being spat your way. A hand shoved in your skirt, you couldn't help but finger yourself the sound of his voice calling you moronic for skipping out of work. Mr. Dynamight was your childhood crush after all, you had jerked off to plenty of interviews of him in the past. Sure, it was creepy but no one had to know. The older man was so big, so strong and handsome. You couldn't help but feel fuzzy from the voicemail, even if it was degrading you, it was for you alone.

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

“Well, shit. Whadda we have here, pipsqueak?”

A rough chuckle came from behind you as he pulled your desk chair out and swiveled towards him.

“Caught ya red-handed, huh? Who knew you were such a little slut for me.”

Taking the phone from your hand, he hung it up on the receiver and took your hand out of your panties. He snatched your fingers greedily in his mouth and sucked your wetness off of him.

“You know what, I’m feeling a bit hungry. And you taste like something in the vein of what I’m tryin’ to have for dinner.”

Katsuki devoured you in a hungry kiss, lifting you out of the chair and onto your desk. He tossed aside the papers messily and spread your legs to see your slick moistening your sheer tights and panties.

“Bend over and spread that fuckin’ pretty pussy for me, pipsqueak.”

You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough by being caught with your pants down, literally.

“That wasn't a question, that was a command, you bratty bitch. What happened to your manners?”

God did his words stir something deep inside you. Waiting was no longer a priority; catching you like this was proof enough in his mind that you were just playing hard to get.

“You should consider yourself lucky that I want you to sit on my face, you know that? I have bitches trying to get on my dick every day, but it only gets hard for you, pipsqueak.”

“I-I thought you didn't like quirkless people!”

“It's all the more reason I want to be balls deep in your cunt right now. So weak and pathetic, it's fucking cute.”

You could feel yourself tighten around nothing just at his words. He was right, you were just a pathetic plaything for him. Not hesitating any longer, he ripped off your skirt and threw it behind the both of you. Your tights also got ripped to shreds, leaving you in your blouse and panties.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered, mostly to himself as he took your panties off and pocketed them. For later, he thought.

Katsuki didn't hesitate to spit on your already wet cunt before diving into his meal. Each stroke of his tongue sent fire straight to your core, each suckle of his lips drew a whimper from your mouth. Hips bucked into his mouth before he held them down, using just one hand to cover your torso. So small and petite for him, how cute would you be up against his massive form.

“M-Mr. Dynamight!”

“Heh, so fuckin’ cute. Call me Katsuki, sweet thing. Or daddy, if you're nasty like that.”

Your hips were held taught against his face, not allowing you to squirm or inch away from his searing tongue fucking your hole. He continued to ravage you with his mouth, pulling away only a few times to give your pussy a nice spank. Groaning into your cunt, he stroked himself at the same time.

Humiliation had dissolved into pleasure as he serviced you, tears springing in your eyes as he gripped his head tightly with your hands and thighs. Having already masturbated before getting caught, it didn't take long for him to make you see stars and roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“K-Katsuki, I’m cumming!” You shouted, squirting onto his tongue as your body shook around his head. Your fingers threaded deeply into his hair and tugged as he continued to work his tongue into your hole, riding out your orgasm.

He didn't stop, though.

“Too much, it's too much!”

“I’ll stop when I’m finished, little girl.”

You tried to push his head away, but he gripped your wrists from under your legs and had you pinned against his mouth, shaking and screaming from overstimulation. Once he brought you another good nut, he pulled away and gave your clit a kiss, chuckling when you jumped.

Standing up, he pushed his mask up to pull his back and took his rock-hard cock from his pants. He spat on your dripping hole once again before lining up his fat head with it.

Katsuki hissed as he sank himself into your cunt, holding your hips in place as you whined and squirmed under him, still overly sensitive. God, were you gripping him in all the right ways. Your legs around his waist, your hands on his forearms, and your cunt around his cock.

“Relax, pipsqueak, or I’ll end up breaking you.” He chuckled. “But you might like that, huh?”

Seeing your teary, fucked out face while teasing you? He nearly jizzed himself on the spot. But he had to hold out for you. A choked gasp was all you could respond with as he got right in your face, breath tickling your cheeks as he looked in your eyes.

“Such a dirty slut, getting off to the sound of my voice. It's better in person, isn't it?”

“D-Daddy!”

Was all you could whine as his thumb made his way to your clit, drawing slow, gently circles with his roughed-up finger.

“Oi, oi, oi, did I break ya already, pipsqueak? Y’know, you coulda just asked for my cock like a good girl if you were gonna get this drunk off it.”

His hips slowly drew back, almost pulling out all the way before slamming back in, earning a squeal from you.

“Or maybe you wanted me to take you by force? Show ya what the fuck happens to quirkless little girls who tease their fuckin’ man so much that he just has to come and take their little cunt to show ‘em who’s boss, eh?”

You couldn't help but tighten around him from his words, squirming under his hot breath as he started to grind his hips up into yours slowly.

“Good girl, letting daddy rape your cunt so willingly.”

Katsuki chuckled, sealing a hot kiss on your mouth while he gripped your throat. His hips began to piston in and out of your pussy, thick veins grinding against your spongy walls.

His brutal kisses swallowed your moans and tears while he squeezed your throat. His other thumb continued to swipe against your clit in fast motions, causing your to clamp down and flutter against his thick cock.

“Shoulda known you were a whore from the start, wearing those skirts that hugged ya in all the right places. Bending over and letting me touch you how I pleased, it's like you wanted this to happen.”

The pace of his thrust increased as he started to chase his orgasm, holding your throat and hips down to use you like the hole he knew you were. He growled and snarled into your mouth as he choked you, even more, watching the blood flood to your face.

“Yeah, baby, I've got your life in my hands now. If you won't be mine, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Then nobody can have you.”

“Y-Yours! I’m yours!” You managed to gasp out, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into it, hoping he’ll let you up for air

“Damn straight, now cum for me, you quirkless little bitch.”

The haziness from the lack of air and the pleasure pooling in your gut sent you over the edge a third time, making you cry out his name as you came. Katsuki was right behind you, eyes screwed shut and practically foaming at the mouth as he came deep inside you, finally letting you breathe once he finished himself off.

You sputtered and coughed, desperate to fill your lungs with air as he pushed some stray hairs out of your face.

“Ya did good, pipsqueak.”

He praised, giving your ass a spank before pulling out and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“You’re coming home with me, so don't worry about the mess.”

“By the way, you're fired.”

TAG LIST: @tomurasprincess @suzuki-violin-school @sightoru @alrunemara

[shorkbrian]

I’ve noticed a shortage of yan! Shoto :0 Whilst Kiri is my absolute fave, Todoroki needs some love too! Could I request some Yan! Shoto being absolutely touch starved and obsessed with a sweet, loving, motherly and smol reader? (it can be nsfw if you so wish!) Thank you!! (Btw, I love reading your stories, it’s a blessing in my day, even just looking at your shitposts/memes. And if you ever want to talk, jus say so. I hope you have a good day!! 🥺💞) - Sugar Anon 🧚‍♀️

Sugar anon! That is such a cute identifier and I hope to see you in my asks again!! Hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking!!!

It’s a very good concept btw cause like mhm him getting completely overwhelmed and overstimulated during diddly times cause he’s never had anyone be intimate with him.

Like moaning and his cheeks are flushed and oh

(Y/N) is a new doctor  at Shouto’s agency in charge of patching him up between missions and basically being his doctor. Shouto likes her gentle hands and soft touches, lets himself get a bit more scraped up then he would normally.  He’s just so touch starved and she’s so motherly and its such an intimate setting and he’s never had feelings like this before and he doesn’t know what to do.

Has yandere tendencies but tries to squash them down or hide them, tries to be normal.

One day gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk, stumbles into her office and she’s immediately worried, once she figures out what’s up she tries to get out, lock him in there until someone stronger than he can come escort him home but he grabs her before she can get to the door. 

He’s crying cause he’s so horny it hurts (he’s never been this aroused in his LIFE) and he wanted everything to be perfect and he wanted to woo her but now he’s forcing himself on her and he can’t stop his hips from moving and he’s confessing all the bad things he’s done while he’s known her and she’s absolutely horrified, traumatized.

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, very hard noncon. Aphrodisiacs (spelling?) and a low-key weird comment about Shouto’s mommy-issues at the end. Dude is so twisted and sad and touch starved.

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

“Todoroki-san, I have had to patch you up six different times in two days.”

Shouto cocked his head, staring at you with his bi-colored eyes, studying your face as you tended to the wound on his shoulder. The lilt to your voice suggested you were teasing, making small talk to distract the man as you swiped a disinfectant pad over the cut. You knew what you would be expected to do when you applied for this job, knew that heros were often injured. 

He had overseen the hiring process himself, his last doctor had left the agency for a job in a different country. Shouto held no hard feelings for the doctor, knew that as a hero he often got himself into trouble, needed a lot of attention and care. Not everyone could be expected to spend so much time with him, attending to his health - even if he was paying them a more-than adequate salary.

Most of the candidates had bored him when they came in for their scheduled interviews. Too many of them were looking at this position as a way to launch them into a nice comfortable position in a prestigious hospital. They seemed… uninterested, or too interested, some of the candidates invading his space when they came for a handshake, babbling about how much of a fan they were.

  You weren’t like that. There was a professional distance when you shook his hand, smiling at him pleasantly as you introduced himself. Then you sat down, waited for him and his team to begin asking you questions. Shouto couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to your hands, letting himself wonder whether those hands would be the right ones for the job. You looked so delicate, at least to him, a pro-hero.

But he already liked you better than any of the other candidates.

So you were hired, on the condition that you would be on a trial period for the first two months, with halved pay. It was still far above minimum wage, but Shouto was weary of hiring seemingly-normal employees only for them to turn out to just be trying to get to know him, whatever their reasons. The trial period was for his own sanity.

Currently he was sitting in your office, perched on the edge of the exam table tucked into the corner. Today he had managed to escape his most recent fight with only a few mild scrapes and bruises, but as his doctor, you needed to make sure he was okay, clean his wounds and patch him up before letting him go home for the day. It wouldn’t do anybody any good if one of the top pro heros collapsed on the job because of a lack of medical care. 

Your office was stocked with everything a doctor of your caliber could possibly need. Your “office” was really a mock hospital room, in a medium sized room located at the back of the agency. Having you on site meant that Shouto never had to bother with trips to the hospital, being swarmed by fans when he wasn’t feeling good or having someone who didn’t understand the capabilities of his quirk try to treat him.

It also meant he could relax, know that he was being taken care of. With you being so new, Shouto still had his guard up, ready for any-and-everything. So far you had been nothing but gentle.

You had hardly talked to him, other than the expected “This might sting” or “Deep breath in”. You warned him before you touched him,  but otherwise were very quiet, working diligently and professionally.  Shouto enjoyed it honestly, being able to step away from the buzz and hubbub of his agency and into his doctor’s office, where it was quiet and calm and peaceful.

Being with his mother had felt like this. Felt safe and refreshing and like a secret haven tucked away from the rest of the world.  

Clicking you tongue, you gave the pro hero a thumbs up as you stepped back. “Alright, you’re good to go! Please be safe on your way home Todoroki-san.” Shouto nodded, a stiff smile passing his lips as he rose to his feet. You were a good doctor, always took the best care of him.

“You as well Y/N.”

——

The next visit to your office revealed that you had added a few personal touches. 

A cheesy poster on the wall, directly across from the exam table, a single plant on your desk, A bowl of mini lollipops on the shelf by the door.

Cute.

Today was a short visit, just a quick once-over to make sure there weren’t any cuts or wounds that he hadn’t felt, the normal questions any quirks used against him during the day.  Shouto found himself wishing the visit had been longer as you gave him the all-clear,  moving away from the exam table so he could stand up. Before he walked out the door, you stopped him, silently handed him a lollipop. He took it,  noticing how soft your hand felt against his as he withdrew.

Shouto didn’t like sweets, but he didn’t mind accepting a lollipop from you. He could just offer it to his secretary when he passed her desk, no biggie. It was easier to do that than hurt your feelings by refusing.

Well, he knew it probably wouldn’t hurt your feelings.  He just liked seeing the little twinkle in your eye when he accepted it. He assumed the lollipops were a gag, something usually given to small children for being brave at their checkups.

He wasn’t your only patient, much as he would’ve liked. His agency had several other up-and-coming heroes, and several sidekicks, and you tended to all of them. Shouto liked to think that you saved the majority of your tenderness for him.

One time he had come in while you were setting one of the sidekick’s shoulders. You had asked him to sit down in your office chair, to give you a minute so you could finish up with his coworker. Shouto had done exactly that, watching as your soft hands gripped the sidekick hard, fingers digging in. 

“One, two, three.” You gave a countdown, forcefully jerking the shoulder back in place on “three”. The sidekick groaned at the pain, head shaking as if to clear his head from the intense sensation. You went over to your lollipop bowl, ignoring Shouto as he sat in your chair, returning to the sidekick to give him the sugary treat.

The sidekick sucked on the lollipop while you bandaged his arm into a sling, immobilizing it so it could heal. When you were done, you sent him on his way with a soft smile, before turning to Shouto.

“Todoroki-san, thank you for waiting.  How are you feeling today?”

Todoroki moved to the exam table when you motioned for him, immediately stripping off one of the boots of his hero costume.

“Hello (Y/N), it’s good to see you. I’m feeling good, got nicked by a spike during a fight today. Luckily it hit my ankle, and it’s not very painful.”

“Mm, let’s have a look.”

You kneeled down,  giving him a small warning before pulling his foot towards you, examining the tiny cut gracing his ankle. Shouto paused, closing his eyes as he relaxed at your touch. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this at-ease with another human. He didn’t know what it was about you; maybe your gentle, soft demeanor? Perhaps it was your kind touch, how you never pressed too hard and always respecting his personal space.  

Even as your fingers prodded at the cut, feeling the bone underneath, Shouto felt relaxed, content. He liked being around you, being with you. Even if the two of you hardly conversed. Maybe he could change that?

“(Y/N), how have you been finding working here?”

You looked up at him, bright eyes warm and kind. Shouto felt his chest tighten. “Oh, it’s very nice Todoroki-san! I hope I’m doing a good job attending to everyone.” With a smile, you returned to his ankle, producing an alcohol wipe from seemingly nowhere.

Shouto nodded, hands gripping the edge of the exam table. “I certainly appreciate your service. You have very tender hands.”  Just like his mom.  When he was younger, before his scare… Shouto remembered the care his mother would give to a scraped knee or a bump on his head. The soft touch, the kindness, the gentle hands - Shouto didn’t want to insult you by comparing you to his mother, so he stayed silent.

With a start, the man realized you were beaming up at him, wrapping a bandage around his ankle. He smiled back, felt his cheeks flush a little. What was this?

“Thank you! I know how important my patient is to the world.”

Ah, yes, his job. 

His job that he should probably getting back to.

Reluctantly, Shouto accepted the usual lollipop from your hands, wishing you would linger so he could feel the brush of your skin against his own.

Was he developing feelings for you?

——

It was a startling idea. Shouto never thought himself the type to have /feelings/ for someone else. When he thought of his future, it never involved another person. He didn’t want a family, didn’t want the opportunity to make the same mistakes as his father.

But as he gave the idea more thought, Shouto realized that he was feeling… something towards you. It was different to what he felt for Izuku, for Bakugou and Kirishima. He didn’t crave their touch like he did yours. Had physical contact always had such an appeal?

His last doctor had touched him, it was necessary of course to patch up his various wounds from fights. But somehow it wasn’t the same as when you touched him. 

Shouto spent each exam studying you, your features, the way you moved, how you almost skipped over to the lollipop bowl to retrieve him one at the end of the exam.  He felt drawn to you, wanted to touch your hair, hold onto your hand when you handed him the lollipop. Would you touch him if he asked? A hug maybe?

In his penthouse, Shouto mulled over his feelings, his wants and needs and how you fit in. Would it be prudent for him to start a relationship at this point in his life? Would you even consider him as a partner? No, probably not. You were much too professional, wouldn’t even think of starting a relationship with your boss. 

Maybe he could fire you.

No, no, Shouto couldn’t do that, it would make you hate him. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to see you as often. And Shouto was quickly becoming of the opinion that he wouldn’t mind seeing you more often than he did now.

He wanted more from you. He didn’t know what he wanted, but… maybe he could learn. 

——

If you noticed how frequently Shouto seemed to be visiting you, compared to his usual once-daily check up, you didn’t say anything.

Tabloids were beginning to comment on how eager the pro hero seemed to engage in hand-to-hand with villains. His usual strategy involved using his quirk, only getting his hands dirty if absolutely necessary. But now? He was constantly looking to get hit, kicked, clawed, wounded.

He had to come see you after every over-dramatic scrap with a villain.  You didn’t seem to notice, nor mind seeing his face pop around the door 3-4 times a day, sheepishly asking if you could patch up a new cut, check out a new bruise, make sure his nose wasn’t broken.

Shouto could feel himself falling, further and further into the rigid embrace of love, or at least, his version of it. Did other people experience attraction this vividly? 

He had come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to you, not just your body but your mind, your personality, your very existence.  He wanted to stay in your office, lingering after every visit and awkwardly attempting small talk just so you would interact with him, just so he could be with you a little longer. 

In the privacy of his own apartment, Shouto found himself researching on his laptop. “How to get the girl” “Ways to let her know you like her” “What does love feel like”. He felt so juvenile,  but the man was genuinely at a loss for how to deal with his feelings for you. Telling you outright wouldn’t be appropriate. You would never enter a relationship with your boss, Shouto knew this, you were too good of an employee. Flirting was not his forte, and was completely out of the question. 

So he stuck to what he knew how to do - keep his mouth shut and watch. You never turned him away from your office, never showed irritation when he showed up, never gave any sign that you were becoming tired of his presence. Shouto took this as an invitation, a sign that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him too. He found himself bringing his lunch down to your office, asking if he could eat there, just to get away from everyone for a little bit. You always let him, nonchalantly scrolling through your phone as you ate during your lunch break. 

Shouto was a bit embarrassed of himself when he pulled your file from the employee records. If anyone asked why, he would just tell them that he was considering giving you a raise, but wasn’t sure. That’s a valid reason to bring out an employee’s file, right? He just wanted to know where you live, if it was far from the agency. The man couldn’t stomach the thought of you, gentle, little (Y/N)  having to walk home alone at night, or take the train with all the creeps that could be there. 

When he came upon your address, Shouto made a note to ask if you’d like him to drive you home. It was at least a thirty minute drive, he didn’t want to think about how you usually got home. What if something happened to his doctor? When he broached the subject, Shouto thought he did pretty well at acting nonchalant.

“The weather’s getting colder, isn’t it?”

You nodded, wrapping gauze around a nasty gash on his calf.

“I feel bad for anyone who has to walk during the evenings.” He stated.

“Aw, it’s not that bad in my opinion.” You took the bait “I walk home from the train station every night and the weather isn’t awful. It’ll probably get nasty as winter comes though.”

“You have to take the metro to get home? Where do you live.” As if he didn’t know. But you’d recoil if he offered just yet, probably be weirded out that he knew your address.

“Yeah, I live over in the Shikuyu district. It’s a really pretty walk in the fall though, all those trees turning different colors.”

Shouto wrung his hands, taking a deep breath. “Let me drive you home tonight, there’s been some criminal activity going down over there and it’s not one of my sectors. I need my doctor safe.”

You tried to protest, and Shouto let you, but ultimately pulled the boss card, insisting that he needed to take care of his employees, especially one that he bothered so much.

“You never bother me Todoroki-san.” You laughed, dropping a lollipop into Shouto’s lap.

Shouto kept his face from souring, missing the usual contact of your gentle, silky-soft hands as you handed the treat to him. But it was fine, he would get more time with you. In his car, just the two of you, outside of work.

Then he registered what you said, and his head snapped up, eyes wide and roving over you as you turned away, cleaning up the exam table and messy supplies. 

It was all the confirmation he needed.

——

After the first time Shouto drove you home, you refused to let him go out of his way to help you out. Still, he was your boss and he could insist that you at least call an uber, or a cab. He didn’t feel comfortable sending his little doctor off onto the train every night after work. Shouto even upped your pay so you could afford it easier, saying there was no reason to be unsafe.

It was hard for him to know if he was being too suffocating.  He didn’t want for you to regret your statement about him never bothering you.

So he had his agency install new security cameras. 

One was placed in your office, where there hadn’t been one before. You weren’t too pressed when Shouto asked you what you thought of the upgrades, said you could see the sense in making sure the building was safe, especially the doctor’s office, where the heroes would be at their most vulnerable. 

Shouto agreed - he was always at his most vulnerable when he was around you.

But now he could stop letting his body take a beating in order to see you. He could sit in his office, busy himself with paperwork and have the security feed from your office pulled up on his laptop. Half the time Shouto got distracted, abandoning the paperwork in order to watch you work, treating sidekicks and heroes-in-training and anyone else the agency had hired. 

He tried to ignore the bitter pang of jealousy that reared it’s head.

Shouto knew jealousy, knew anger and negative emotions very well. His childhood had been littered with nothing but bad memories and negative moments. The only time he felt at peace was when he was curled in his mom’s lap, the woman running slender fingers through his bi-colored hair. Sometimes, when he was still very small, she would have the time to read him a story before bedtime. 

She was such an amazing woman. 

Shouto saw her in you.

The way you tended to him so gently, delicately treating his wounds. How you carded through his hair, just like his mom used to, when you were checking for head wounds. The way your lovely hands pressed against his back when you felt to see if a rib was cracked, rubbing each rib slow and soft, pressing. It was just like how his mom would rub his back.

The man swore your touch was addictive. He wanted more and more and more and he didn’t have a clue as how to get it.  Shouto had to be satisfied with fleeting brushes when he moved before you were ready, accidentally jostling you against his body. Or telling you (lying) that his body was hurting, sore, it didn’t quite feel right. You would do your best to check for any injuries, asking where it hurt (usually his torso “hurt”) and then skimming your hands very carefully over the skin there.

Shouto imagined how nice it would be to fall asleep with your hands on him. He wasn’t stupid.  He was getting too attached, too invested, was practically stalking your at this point. He shouldn’t be doing this, lying to you, watching you. But he didn’t know what else to do.

Guilt was beginning to take root in his mind.

One day he knew he would have to tell you, confess his feelings and deal with the outcome. You would accept him, hopefully. Shouto felt afraid for what he would do if you didn’t.

——

Shouto felt hot, disoriented, thirsty. He was pretty sure he was in your office, had gotten hit with a villains quirk during a fight. Apparently it had knocked him out, as he didn’t remember even coming into the agency.

Muffled voices could be heard past the closed door, and Shouto winced at the noise, at the light, at the feelings of his clothes against his skin. Everything felt  too much.  He stumbled off the exam table, yup, your office, and moved towards the light switch, stripping off his shirt as he did so. 

The voices outside were still making noise, but with the light off Shouto felt a little better. His remaining clothes were still bothering him. His head felt fuzzy. His boots came off, followed by his pants. He wanted to take off his boxers, but his rational mind supplied how bad of an idea that would be. What if you came in?

At the thought of his little doctor, Shouto’s stomach jolted in arousal. Confused, the man peered down, surprised to find himself completely hard in his boxer briefs. He knew he considered you very attractive, but it usually took a fair bit of stimulus before he found himself aroused. 

Shouto gulped as he climbed back onto the exam table, immediately curling onto his side towards the wall. He was practically panting with the heat of the room, sweating and drooling. Wait, drooling?

The door opened.

“Todoroki-san, I have bad news.”

Your voice was so sweet, like warm honey. Shouto shivered when he heard it, his cock twitching between his legs. He wanted to turn to you, stand up, pull you close. But he… he shouldn’t.

“You got hit by an aphrodisiac quirk. It’s going to take a bit to leave your system, and will probably be uncomfortable until then. I’m going to leave some supplies in case you would like to use them, but I will be taking my leave after getting you settled. The rest of your team and I have decided it’s safer for you to remain in this room than attempt to move you back home. We will be locking the door so no one can come in.”

And you can’t get out.

You didn’t have to say it,. Shouto heard you shuffling around the room behind him, he was so hot, sweat was beading all over his body.

“(Y/N), Why am I so warm?” Shouto groaned out, trembling. It felt like he was sick but with… arousal.

Objects were set down on your desk, before Shouto heard you step towards him.

“The quirk is going to make your libido hyperactive for the next twelve hours or so. It’s very likely that you will be aroused and craving stimulation.”

You sounded so clinical, so robotic, none of the usual warmth in your tone when you talked to Shouto. He wanted to whine, cry that you weren’t treating him the way you usually did.  And when he needed your help too! His rational brain was telling him that you were trying to be professional, give your mostly-naked boss privacy. 

HIs rational brain told him to stay still, wait until you left the room to grab whatever you had left for him on the desk.  It was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from grabbing your hands if he turned. He wanted to feel your hands on him, running over his torso, rubbing his back, cupping his cheek. He wanted your touch, so, so bad. 

Shouto decided it was time for his rational brain to shut up.

When he turned over, sitting up, you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, already halfway to the door.

“(Y/N)” Shouto rasped, rising to his feet unsteadily. The arousal pooling in his gut was overwhelming - he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so hard.  His penis was so rigid that it hurt, throbbing in his boxers.

You took a step back, eyes trained firmly on Shouto’s face, determined to not let them stray below the belt.  

Shouto didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t rationalize any of it. The man wasn’t even in control of himself, feeling as if some demon from hell had invaded his body, taken his dirty thoughts and insisted that he act upon them right now.

The pro hero didn’t even know when he had grabbed you, but then he was pressing you up against his body and it felt so good that the man whimpered. A low, needy sound, softer than the spluttering and shocked noises tumbling from your mouth as you pushed against your boss, trapped in his grip.

“Todoroki-san! Please let go! The quirk-!”

Shouto didn’t listen, didn’t want to. He started grinding his hips against yours, breathing hard through his nose at the pleasure roaring into his veins at the simple contact, his dick pressing into your stomach. 

It wasn’t enough though, he needed more.

Shouto dragged you to the exam table, manhandled you up against the flat surface and bent you over despite your struggling, the shouts of “No! Stop!”. Should he stop? Probably. But he wanted this. Had ever since he realized that he loved you, although it hadn’t been this intense before. With one quick movement, Shouto pulled off your scrubs, discarding your underwear in the same movement. He wasn’t concerned about foreplay - he needed, he needed all of you right now.

But the man couldn’t resist falling to his knees behind you, hands moving their iron grip from your palms to your thighs. His fingertip dug into your flesh, dimpling up your skin as he leaned forward, your pussy exposed oh so prettily for him.

Shouto didn’t know if you were screaming or crying or begging for more. He was too focused on the juicy flesh in front of him, leaning forward quickly to greedily slurp at the pink slit. He felt you jump, try to straighten your back but he let his hold on his quirk weaken, simultaneously heating and freezing each thigh held in his grasp. 

You quickly resumed the position he had put you in.

The pro hero couldn’t get enough, licking and sucking with fervent desperation at your folds, no rhythm or technique whatsoever. He couldn’t think, not with his face buried between your legs, your thighs shaking in his hold, your sweet little cries (“Todoroki-san /please/! Stop!”) filling the air. 

It could have been seconds, or minutes, Shouto had no concept of what was happening, only that you were the best fucking thing he had ever tasted in his life, and he needed everything you had to give him. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to burying his face closer, trying to spread your thighs further and further so he could reach deeper into your puffy pussy.

Your cum gushed onto his tongue, and the man slurped it up, reveling in the stick, wet sensation. 

He couldn’t ignore his dick any longer.

Letting go of your thighs, Shouto stood, pushing his boxer briefs down his legs as fast as he could, desperate to sheath himself inside your cunt. He could barely breathe, was so aroused he was light-headed with need.

With his boxers off, the man pressed close to you again, lifting one of your legs to brace it on the table, forcing you to go on tiptoe. When the head of his dick met your folds, Shouto felt his cock jump, the strange sensation making butterflies rise in his stomach. 

“Mmhm, (Y/N) I don’t know-I don’t know what’s happening.” Shouto confessed, one hand on your hip, the other guiding his thick cock into your pussy. “You just-oh, you look so good, always - always do. I need to feel - need to feel you so bad.”

He could feel your body trembling, and it briefly crossed his mind that you were probably crying. But his arousal slammed into him like a truck the moment he let his hips twitch forward, sliding his length into your wet pussy. “Oh god, oh-oh god, oh!”

Shouto came, crying into your neck, saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your heated flesh.

To his surprise, his dick was still hard, and the arousal was still pushing, urging, needy.

“(Y/N), I don’t - I’m so sorry.” Shouto stuttered, pulling back just to have his hips plunge forward again. You were so warm, so wet from your own orgasm and from his cum sliding inside you. It was heaven. 

Shouto had never touched, nor been touched this much in his entire  life. He didn’t know what to do, how to feel; it felt like his brain was on fire, and with each desperate snap of his hips, he was throwing on more and more gasoline. He had longer stamina this time, pounding you into the edge of the table for what felt like forever until his hips stuttered, his legs shaking as he orgasmed inside you.

When Shouto felt himself steady, he was horrified to find himself /still/ aroused. “I’m sorry (Y/N), This isn’t - I didn’t want to do it like this.” He was crying as he rutted against you, tears dripping hot onto your back. “I’ve been trying to be perfect, plan - plan dates, a relationship, anything, as long as it’s you.”

The man buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling raggedly. “It can only ever be you.”

His clarity was returning, each orgasm making him feel less and less feverish. At this point, his cock hurt, and he was too sensitive, but still, his hips wouldn’t stop. 

“I was going - going to ask if we could go out.” A lie, but it felt like the right thing to say. You were definitely crying underneath him, Shouto would be lower than trash if he didn’t try to comfort you. You didn’t need to know that the pro hero would rather have made you his home-doctor than ask you out. That way you’d be at his house, waiting for him, just like a pretty little wife, like a mother.

“I love you… think I always have.”

It felt good for Shouto to admit it out loud.

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Keys hit the table and the usual grunt of cuss words fill the living room of the shared apartment of Bakugou and his roommate [ ]. Hearing the angry blonde enter [ ] felt herself getting up as she entered into the shared living room of them “Bad day?” She asked as vermillion eyes glanced towards her concerned [ ] ones. “ ‘M fine'' The usual grunt filled the room as he pushed back past the worried girl. Frowning and used to this curt greeting of his from the last few days [ ] sighed and went back to their kitchen yelling to the blonde that she started a shower for him, getting no real response from him.

Bakugou and [ ] had an odd relationship. They started to live together because of the boys burning his kitchen on their day off when they all lived together. He told the others ‘She was the only smart one out of his dumbass friends and the only one he could trust to not burn his place down’ and with that the usual group of Sero, Denki and Kirishima moved out of his place and to the place beside him ,the group wanting to still be around the grumpy blonde. [ ] was used to coming over with Mina and the group being around before Bakugou asked her, quite aggressively one day ( Oi you're moving in with me, i'm tired of these dumbasses destroying my place on their days off of patrol) which is how they ended in this arrangement

Even with Bakugou being a handsome and very popular hero with ladies, he never had anyone over, no awkward run-ins with [ ] staying there, nothing at all. He rarely even left the house to visit the others unless he knew he had the time for it. Bakugou was dedicated , being the #2 hero he had little time for much outside of work. He refused to take brakes, no matter how much [ ] and the others tried to get him out hed huff and puff about work until he actually had fun at whatever function it was that he was dragged to so he could get fresh air

He'd been like this since highschool when she met him. Angry , confidence that was more like cockyness, a temper to be messed with, prideful and not afraid to speak his mind, good or bad. [ ] could remember from when she used to get paired with him how smart he actually was, but how he could also belittle you if you didn't realize he gave you backward compliments. She owns him over with taking him head to head on, in practice battles and in the work behind the scenes. Bakugou wouldn't admit it but [ ] kept him together, more than he let show on the outside. From bandaging him up after an intense fight, to letting him vent when he was angry ; [ ] was there for everything, his good , bad and ugly.

Hearing the showeer turn off [ ] continued to find them something to eat as the silence in the room was comforting. As dinner started she took his hero clothes to the washer, starting the load so he'd have a fresh outfit, even with him having multiples of the hero costume, he was quite fawn of the one that he had gotten during highschool, the measurements needing to be increased heavily for his now large size but that was nothing for [ ]. As a gift once he got his own agency she had repaired the old threads, even going far enough to bulking them up so they'd be less prone to ripping or shrinking. That was the one time [ ] had seen emotion flash through the stoic blonde before he thanked her, genuinely with a rare smile that blessed his face.

Soon though, she felt a presence in the room. Turing around she was met with those same vermillion eyes, this time the look in them unreadable as he stared his friend down “Yes Kasuki?” [ ] said as she turned back to the boiling pot of rice on the stove “What Are cooking?” He asked as he stood over the aisle to see what she was stirring. “Rice so far, do you want chicken, fish or beef to go with it?” She asked as she turned to the still staring blonde, his eyes wavering as she stared back at him “Are you okay Suki?” [ ] said again as he pushed himself up , crossing around the aisle before going to her side “You don't have to do this for me” He said as she ignored him “ So Chicken is fine?” “[ ], i'm not a child you don't have to keep treating me like one” Sighing the girl turned to him, seeing that he was hunched over the counter, stretching his back as she could see the pained expression as he pulled out the muscle “Sit down yeah? Consider this an early birthday present to you” [ ] said as he gave her a glare “That doesn't mean you have to constantly cook and do shit like this for me, I have two weeks before it anyway” “Katsuki, sit down and take the kindness i'm giving you and hush” Pointing with her stirring spoon [ ] shooed the now grumbling and fussing blonde away. Just a usual day in the apartment

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hearing a loud cuss from the living room [ ] got up to see her roommate slump against the door, face tensed in apin as he ganced to the concerned girl “Shit, fix your face princess ‘m fine, just a bit of - fuck…- jsut soem pain is all” Reaching for the blonde [ ] helped him in, the larger male trying to hold up his weight as much as he could as she helped him to their bigger bathroom, sitting him on the toilet “Do you have any cuts or anything? Should we go to the doctor?” [ ] asked as a large hand sat over hers that went for his shirt “Im okay [ ], just some bruising and some little cuts here and there okay? Don't worry your pretty head about me” Feeling her face heat up she ignored what he said and started to help him out of his clothes, showing her a dark and slightly bloody mess of his rib cage. Wincing from the sight alone she started to lightly clean around the open wounds and surface scrapes around them. As she did he told her about the recent building that was destroyed from him using his blast too intense in one area like the villains he fought wanted him to. Another bad habit of BAkugous was beating himself up when he felt like he did poorly, which took a lot of trying to get him to let out. He would just overwork himself instead of relaxing and taking time to cool off and realize he wasn't the issue. “Any pain when I push here?” with a slight push bakugou hissed, eyes closing as she pressed deeper on his rib cage “Sorry sorry” Wrapping him up as tight as he could take [ ] stooped to look over his injuries, a frown on her lips “Stop it” Bakugou said, causing the girl to blink at him “ Stop what?” She asked as he met her eyes in the mirror “You're pouting. I'm a big boy thats what me being a hero is for i can take it , don't baby me” Her frown now deeping [ ] pushed his shoulder “Well you need a break , last week you were babying your shoulder now your ribs, im calling you in sick” Growling Bakugou went to sat something until he saw her face ; fear. She was afraid one night he wouldn't come home, that it would be the others telling her he was gone permanently. With a deep sigh he reached for her hand, pulling her back to him as he gave her a hug. Concerned and trying to come to her racing heart she looked up to those deep eyes of his, the same concert starting to fill them “ [ ]...i'll take the week off it makes you happy and rest, I’ll be okay alright? Just...please..I dont want to disappoint the one person who helps me even when im stupid and tells me what i need to hear without just agreeing with me” Shocked at his words all [ ] could do was rub his arm and bury her face in his warm chest, inhaling the smell of smoke and burnt caramel from his skin “Oi princess..” He rasped out as she just hummed , not moving from her spot. With ease the still injured blonde picked her up effortlessly and placed her on the sink, causing her to cry out. Slowly he let his hands trace her face, their eyes studying the other as he pressed his forehead to hers “Thank you..for dealing with me” He whispered against her lips as they slowly closed the gap between them, lips sealing in a soft peck. As soon as it happened it was over, Bakugou pulled away before he got too invested. Biting his bottom lip he gave her a lopsided smile, heading to his bedroom

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4/20, The day of the birthday boy Katsuki rolled in a lot faster than he thought it would. Sitting up slowly he looked around his dark room, the bright light of 2:00 am mocking him as he got up to go to his kitchen. Seeing [ ] humped over at the computer sparked the explosion heros curiosity. Finishing his glass of water she came over to her, seeing that she had one last piece of paper in her hands that strangely looked like….

“Are those my reports?” a deep voice rumbled out. Letting out a screech [ ] jumped, turning in the swiveling chair to an almost adorable sight. A shirtless and sleepy Bakugou was rubbing his eyes as he let himself focus on her “Uhm...well yeah they are. They're all done now!” [ ] said as she gave him a wide smile whined the blondes' frowns deeped “You did all of my paperwork?” He said in disbelief as she looked at her hands , picking at her hand “Well yeah...I wanted you to have a non stressful birthday” She admitted as he scoffed , getting closer to her as he wrapped his arms around her neck and the top of the chair “You're so sweet...too good for me….” He grumbled as he hid his face in the nervous girl's neck. Gasping as she felt his hot lips kiss the junction of her neck she couldn't help but lean over more . letting him absentmindedly kiss her all over her shoulder and neck, little ‘Thank yous’ spilling from the tired man's lips. Still following his same path he worked his way up to her cheek, basking in the little laugh she let out as he nuzzled under her chin. Slowly what happened a few days ago repeated itself, they were face to face as his still sleep swarming eyes stared back at her curious ones. Tapping her bare leg from her seat she moved as he took her by the arm to his room. Hearing her heart in her ears [ ] sucked in a breath as he flopped on his luxury bed, making grabby hands at the standing girl. Giggling [ ] crawled in the bed with him as he pulled her on top of him “[ ]....” He groaned as she looked at him. Licking his lips as whispering Bakugou spoke “ I really like you...You and shitty hair dont have to do much for me all i want is you…” He said as she gave him a wide eyed look, not sure she heard him right “Yeah im finally admitting it...ive had a crush on you for a while...i never noticed it until Shitty hair called me out for having a worse mood when that good for nothing vibrating little shit tried to steal you from me at the banquet” As the comfortable silence filled the room he spoke up again “ And i really...wanna kiss you….but im scared you wouldn't like me back...after all these years of dealing with my shit and how i can be...your like a godsend to me..” As he opened his eyes to her he was surprised to feel her lips press against his , full and warm. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in his lap as they kissed more and more, the kiss becoming deeper as she pulled away, whispering a soft ‘ I love you’ as he kissed her again until they drifted to sleep in eachothers arms.

[vannahfanfics]

Worthy

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Shoto Todoroki, Momo Yaoyorozu

Hey, everyone! I'm happy to present the piece I wrote for the @todorokibigbang! Enjoy some TodoMomo wedding fluff <3 Also, be sure to check out the absolutely stunning art by my partner, @danyartime​! 

Shoto sucked in a deep breath as he straightened his bowtie for the tenth time in the last minute, using his reflection in the mirror to ensure that the wine red accessory hugged the collar of his white button-down shirt snugly. As his hands fell, they automatically itched to smooth down the nonexistent creases in the thick, sleek fabric of his tuxedo jacket. He smoothed his palms down his front anyway, until they met the band of his black dress pants. Just as he began to wonder if he should re-shine his shoes, he realized just exactly where his mind was derailing and smiled sardonically to himself. 

Natsuo told me about the pre-wedding jitters, but I never imagined they would be this bad. 

Of course, Shoto had no compulsions to flee the altar; proposing to his soon-to-be wife was the greatest decision he had ever made. He would happily give her his heart, his world, everything he could offer, and more without sparing a second thought. However, as he stood there fidgeting in front of the floor-length mirror, listening to his groomsmen bicker and laugh in the adjoining room, Shoto would be remiss to admit that he wasn’t nervous. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of all this— friends and family to surround him as he passes into the next chapter of his life and a successful career as a burgeoning pro hero with a sound investment in an agency that he, Izuku, and Katsuki were slowly building from the ground up—all of which he could share with his beloved. After all the trials and tribulations of his young life, it all seemed so… easy. Shoto was far from perfect and had his regrets, so how could this wonderful life just have fallen into his hands?

As he ruminated, he smacked his lips, his mouth going uncomfortably dry, eyebrows furrowed as he sipped at a bottle of water. Shoto had never entertained these thoughts before—not when he graduated, not when he broke out as a professional hero, and not even on his worst days when he couldn’t save anyone—so it was mighty conspicuous that his subconscious chose now of all days to second-guess himself. He scrunched up his face as he tried to will away the anxiety gnawing at his insides. 

Ever since high school, you’ve worked hard to become who you are now. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy the comforts you slaved for… he told himself, but it rang hollowly in his heavy heart. He drained the water bottle and tossed it in the trash, grimace not leaving his face. His tongue still felt bone-dry and coated with ash. As he paced the small room, rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs, there was a quiet knock at the door that led to the hallway. 

“Hey, Sho, it’s us!” called Natsuo’s cheerful voice, followed by Fuyumi chirping a greeting. Running a hand through his hair and checking himself in the mirror to make sure he didn’t look too rattled, he hurried to the door and opened it. His elder siblings wore identical smiles as they looked him up and down. 

“You sure clean up nice,” Natsuo grinned as he looped an arm around Shoto’s neck and tugged him down to affectionately ruffle his hair. “Look at you, so big now that you’re getting married, huh? Man, how time flies.”

Shoto grunted as he tugged himself away, indignantly smoothing down his hair. The strands were fine and ordered enough that he didn’t have to bother doing anything, but he didn’t want to meet his bride with flyaways sticking up all over his head. “Natsuo…” 

“Hey, stud, not having any second thoughts, are you?” the white-haired man grinned playfully, nudging him with an elbow. Shoto blinked, floored by his elder brother’s sudden inquiry. 

“What? Of course not!” he answered in bewilderment. Natsuo seemed entertained and had no implications that it was an inappropriate thing to ask. 

“Good, good!” Natsuo chimed. He then glanced at Fuyumi as she began to sniffle. 

“I can’t believe it… Our Shoto is all grown up…” she moaned and dabbed at the tears blooming in the corners of her eyes. “Next thing you know, he’ll be having babies and will slowly move out of our lives…” 

Shoto turned beet red at the mention of having children. It wasn’t out of the question, but it certainly wasn’t on his mind right now, so it unnerved him a little to have it brought up in conversation. He swallowed the nervous nausea in favor of stepping forward to wrap his sister up in a gentle hug. He was taller than her now, so she could nestle right into the crook of his shoulder and cry. 

“Fuyumi, I’m not going anywhere,” he laughed lightly. “You’re still my family. I know life gets busy, but I’m still going to make every effort to see you all.” 

“Really?” Fuyumi gasped as her head snapped up. Shoto tried not to laugh at the black smudges of mascara under her eyes and smiled reassuringly. 

“Of course,” he said before leaning down to kiss the top of her head. The sweet action made Fuyumi start blubbering again, and no amount of dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief prevented the mascara from streaming down her flushed cheeks. Natsuo led her away to the bathroom, trying to suppress his snickers as Fuyumi wailed about “what a good young boy Shoto turned out to be,” and left Shoto in the doorway. 

What a good young boy he turned out to be, her words echoed in the dark of his mind. Though her words should fill him with pride and love, the only thing that rose up within Shoto was the cold emptiness of doubt. He leaned in the doorframe as his breath left him in a heavy sigh, and he stared at the place his siblings had rounded the corner. Fuyumi’s crying face flashed in his mind. 

Why was she crying in the first place? Why would she ever think that I would abandon them? The notion made nervous butterflies flutter in his stomach. Had Shoto perhaps been negligent with his family? Sure, they were the textbook definition of dysfunctional, but after his first semester at U.A., he’d done his best to try to mend their fractured relationship. Had he not done enough? Did Fuyumi really believe that now that he’d found a wife, he’d just make his own little family and forget all about them? 

He scowled as that irritating dryness returned to his mouth, making him run a hand over his lips. His entire family would be attending the ceremony today. He thought that was because they were there to support him, but could it be mere pretense? Or worse, did they all believe that after today they would see less and less of him until routine visits became replaced with excuses? He squirmed in the doorway as a pang of guilt began to prickle at him. 

Before he could dwell on that unsettling thought, someone called his name from down the hall. He looked up to see the looming bulk of his father striding towards him. Shoto involuntarily straightened up, blinking as Enji came to a stop in front of him. 

“Hello, son,” Enji coughed uncomfortably, tugging at the baby-blue tie tucked into his gray suit jacket. Shoto could tell that Enji was trying to hide his nervousness by the way he kept his head held high and the nervous twitches in his face muscles. Even now, after Shoto had grown into a young man, their relationship still had its strains, yet Shoto wasn’t petty enough to deny his father witnessing his marriage, so he’d still invited him. Enji’s eyes raked over him before giving an approving nod. “It suits you,” he said with a vague gesture to his tuxedo. 

“Thanks.” 

Enji shuffled his weight from one large foot to the other, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he struggled to gather his words. “Father, is there something you want to say?” 

“I, uh,” Enji gulped and scratched at his close-cropped auburn hair. “I just wanted… I just wanted to tell you… how proud I am of you, Shoto,” he mumbled, voice dropping with every word. Shoto’s face blanched in shock, causing him to just stare dumbly up at his father. Enji continued to fidget nervously, fumbling through his fatherly dotage. “You’ve, uh… You’ve come a long way. I know that a part of you will never forgive me for what I’ve done, and I know now that the way I treated you was not right. I’m, uh… very grateful that you’re even allowing me to be here to see you get married.” 

“Father, it’s not—” 

“Please let me finish,” Enji blurted, going a little pink in the face. Shoto nodded respectfully, and Enji grumbled under his breath, “How should I say this?” He contemplated anxiously for a moment before continuing, “You’re a fine young man and a fine young hero, a better one than I ever could have dreamed of, and you did that all on your own. Even if I don’t deserve it, it’s an honor to call you my son.” 

Shoto’s throat bobbed as it grew a little tight. 

“Thanks, Father…” 

“I know you’ll go on to do amazing things,” Enji said, seeming to relax as Shoto didn't outright reject his sentiments. He laid a large hand on Shoto’s shoulders. “You’ve made a promising career for yourself because of your hard work in school. Japan couldn’t ask for a finer hero.” Enji held onto his shoulder a second before he coughed uncomfortably and retracted. “I, um… I had better go now. Sorry if I interrupted anything.” It looked like he wanted to embrace Shoto, but he merely offered him a handshake. Shoto shook his hand, still slightly dazed from his father’s emotional speech, and then watched him head towards the entryway. 

Enji paused and looked back at him with knitted eyebrows. 

“Are you… Are you all right, Shoto? You seem tense. You aren’t having any second thoughts, are you?” 

There it is again… Why was everyone asking that? Was that just a thing people asked the groom on their wedding day? Was it really that common for grooms to leave their brides? 

“Of course not, Father. I couldn’t be happier.” 

Enji nodded thoughtfully, staring at him a moment, before uttering a terse, “Good.” Then he was gone, and Shoto was alone again. 

Japan couldn’t ask for a finer hero.

Well, Shoto certainly didn’t feel very fine right now. Shoto had to crawl his way up to the top alongside his classmates. He thought of Fuyumi, of how she’d cried and begged Shoto not to leave them. Maybe he was devoting too much energy to his career. What would the adoring public think if they learned that Shoto was forsaking all the important things in his life to be the best? They’d call him an egotist, for sure. Was that what he was? 

Once again, he thought about how easily everything seemed to be falling into place. Could that be because Shoto was sacrificing other things in the process? Or worse, was this “vision” of his easy life all an illusion? 

What if all of this isn’t as it seems, and I really don’t deserve any of it? 

Just as panic began to pump through his system, he was jolted out of his thoughts by the door to the adjoining room slamming open. He whirled around to see Katsuki stomping into the room, his face nearly as red as the wine red of his boutonniere. The volatile blond was dragging Shoto’s best man in by the collar, clearly to complain about something he didn’t approve of. 

Shoto raised his eyebrows as Katsuki slung a very frightened Izuku to the ground in front of him. 

“K-Kacchan! It’s not that serious!” the green-haired boy whined as he rolled over to sit cross-legged on the floor and pout. Katsuki snorted haughtily and craned up his head, nose upturned so far that he was nearly looking at the ceiling. 

“Idiot! I’ll never understand why this Icy-Hot bastard chose you as his best man! Do you know what this loser just suggested?” Katsuki accused with a sharp point at the sulking Izuku while he rounded on Shoto. Nonplussed, Shoto just shook his head. “‘Hey, why don’t we send Shoto to check and see if the girls are ready’?” Katsuki mocked in a high-pitched, squeaky rendition of Izuku’s voice. “Moron!” Katsuki yelled and leaned down over Izuku, hands on his hips while Izuku blushed and rubbed at the side of his face. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride? A best man would know that!” 

“I just wanted to make sure everything was coming along well,” Izuku explained meekly. “If there was a problem, I wanted to make sure we knew about it and could plan accordingly…” 

“Then send one of the other extras, not the fucking groom!” 

As the two began to bicker back and forth, Shoto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. Honestly, he should have known better than to stick the two in a room together, but their venue didn’t really give them a choice. It was an antiquated millhouse fashioned into a wedding venue; the bridal party dressed in a small suite upstairs from the main floor where the wedding would be held, while the men prepared in a small, two-room shack next door. They’d been charmed by the rustic and quaint nature of the venue, as neither of them wanted a grand affair of their wedding, but Shoto was beginning to wonder if perhaps they should have opted for somewhere with more space and privacy… 

“Enough,” Shoto barked as his frustration reached a boil. Izuku and Katsuki both stopped mid-chatter to look at him with wide eyes. “I appreciate the sentiments, both of you, but I would rather not quibble on my wedding day, thank you.” He sagged a little as the weariness began to take its toll. Arguing was really the least of his problems right now, considering he was shouldering an existential crisis. Izuku and Katsuki both looked at each other before squinting at him suspiciously. 

“Hey, you all right, man?” Katsuki asked. 

“You seem tense, Shoto. Are you okay? You’re not getting second thoughts, are you?” Izuku gasped worriedly. He shot to his feet to grab Shoto by the shoulders. “Please don’t tell me you’re considering calling off the wedding! Don’t worry! Lots of guys get nervous with this kind of commitment! But please, remember that you love—” 

“Izuku,” Shoto interrupted with a weary smile and gently pushed his friend in the chest. “I’m not having second thoughts. Please don’t worry about that.” As Izuku deflated in relief, Shoto wondered if he should tell his friends about his real doubts. After a microsecond of consideration, he decided not to. Katsuki would probably just tell him to man up, and Izuku would go on an entire blabbering speech, and that’s not really what Shoto needed right now. Smiling thinly, Shoto placed his hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “I’m all right, really. There’s just been a lot of planning and preparation today, so I just want things to go well.” 

“Right! Of course! As your best man, that’s my job! I’ll go right now and make sure everything is in order, okay? Don’t you worry, Shoto, I’ll make sure this goes off without a hitch!” 

Before Shoto could insist that it really wasn’t necessary, the green-haired boy had zoomed off, untied dress shoe laces flapping behind him. Shoto looked after him with a small chuckle. Izuku had always been a bit flighty, but he really was an invaluable friend to him, so that’s why he had been the obvious choice for Shoto’s best man. He couldn’t imagine anyone else standing next to him when he greeted his bride at the altar. 

The doubt crept up into his mind with its poisonous whispers. Izuku was a good friend, but did Shoto deserve a friend like that? Had he even come close to repaying all the things that Izuku had done for him? The smile fell from his lips as the cold guilt flushed through him once more. 

“Oi.” 

Shoto looked at Katsuki with unfocused eyes, still half-brooding. Katsuki’s crimson eyes thinned into small slivers as he squinted suspiciously. “Seriously, Icy-Hot, are you okay? You don’t… seem like yourself,” the blond asked slowly. 

Shoto’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Katsuki was as prickly as his wild hair, so to have him so readily show concern and inquire about Shoto’s wellbeing definitely dragged him out of his stupor. Again, Shoto debated whether or not to come clean about the disordered mess that was currently his mind. 

Shoto had never been much of a fibber, but for some reason, the lies rolled so easily off his tongue today. 

“As I told Izuku, I’m fine,” he said smoothly, feigning a grateful smile. “I think all the wedding planning just caught up to me at once, that’s all. I’m sure if I just take a moment to relax and gather my thoughts, I’ll be alright. We still have plenty of time before the main event.” 

Katsuki continued to eye him with his lips parted in a skeptical pout, but instead of prying, he just slowly nodded his head a few times. 

“All right. If you say so. I’m gonna go make sure that loser doesn’t mess anything up,” he decided, brushing past Shoto to walk to the door. He paused on the threshold to toss a blank stare over his shoulder. “Don’t think too much. You’ve always been the type to get too in your head,” he advised before continuing after Izuku. Shoto went to step after him, hand raised, but Katsuki was already gone. His arm flopped back down to his side as he released a shaky breath. 

“Maybe I am thinking too much…” he murmured to himself.

He’d like to convince himself of that, but that little beast inside him just snickered. Are you sure that’s not just another one of your lies? it taunted. He rubbed his neck as that ash-choking feeling returned, his body trembling with a few tight coughs. Izuku and Katsuki both seemed so concerned for him… Did he really deserve that concern? Maybe they weren’t really even concerned about him, but were more worried he’d take off and leave his fiancé a shattered, sobbing mess at the altar. Had Shoto been selfish in his friendships? 

Had he been selfish in his relationship? Everyone kept asking the same question… What if they could see that selfishness and were on edge because they all kept thinking that he couldn’t stick it out, that he was too self-absorbed? Shoto’s breaths began to come in terse, ragged gasps as he spiraled into a self-esteem crash. 

What was wrong with him? Why was he thinking like this? He pawed at his head with a small groan. Nothing made sense; everything was swirling around in his head like a whirlwind. He stumbled out of the doorway and slammed it shut in front of him before collapsing against it. The painted wood was cool against his flushing face. 

Breathe. Breathe, he tried to calm himself, gulping down air.

It burned; his throat felt like it was drying up into a desert. Just as he stumbled into the center of the room, blearily looking for water, there was a soft knock at the door. It rang in his pounding head like a death knell. He clenched his teeth as he struggled to come down to earth instead of rocketing himself into the stratosphere. 

I need… I need to calm down… 

“Shoto?” his mother’s voice timidly called. Her soft-spoken tone sliced through the layer of anxiety clouding his mind, allowing him to descend back to reality. He closed his eyes as he composed himself, steadying his ragged breaths and slowing his heart rate. That’s right… I can’t… I can’t let her know I’m like this. 

After he was confident he was presentable, Shoto crossed the floor in a few quick strides to open the door for her. Rei smiled sweetly up at him before her slate-gray eyes dropped to admire the way the tuxedo accented his muscular form. She ran her small hands down his sleeves before linking her fingers with his and giving them a gentle squeeze. He hoped she didn’t notice that they were trembling. “You look so handsome,” she praised, looking back up at him lovingly. 

“Thank you, Mother,” Shoto smiled. He walked backward into the room, tugging on his mother’s fingers so she would follow, and Rei gently shut the door behind her. She walked to the floor-length mirror to inspect her own look— a baby-blue dress patterned with white flowers tied together with white flats and a baby-blue headband. “You also look lovely,” he added while retrieving another bottle of water from the mini-fridge in the corner. Rei hummed gratefully at his appraisal, watching him guzzle half of the plastic bottle through her reflection. 

“Are you nervous, dear?” she asked abruptly. Shoto flinched in surprise, which made him lurch forward and spill water down his windpipe. He spluttered and coughed, eyes watering at the burning sensation overtaking his throat, while Rei turned around to look at him in concern. As he wiped the stream of water and spit from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he debated lying to her. However, all notions of that flew out the window when he caught her soft, motherly gaze. “It’s natural, dear,” she reassured as she walked over to him. 

Lie. She doesn’t need to know, chimed that anxious beast. It was tempting; Shoto could feel the excuse forming on his tongue. Except… no words came out. He looked helplessly at her, causing her expression to morph into one of intense concern. Shoto didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to feel this way— selfish and egotistical and undeserving of his life. 

His life with her. 

“Shoto. Tell me what’s wrong,” she ordered, her voice just firm enough to abolish any remaining ideas of lying to her. 

Shoto exhaled deeply and sagged down onto the small sofa next to the fridge. His mother could read him with scary precision, so there really was no use lying, anyway. She stopped in front of him to weave her slim fingers into his two-toned hair, and he responded by leaning forward to press his forehead into her belly. Rei softly scratched along his scalp in rhythmic, soothing strokes, and though she really hadn’t said anything, even the action alone made Shoto relax just the tiniest bit. 

“What’s bothering you?”

He expected her to ask him if he was having second thoughts, just like the rest of them—but she didn’t. Shoto swallowed thickly before answering in a tiny voice. “I just realized how lucky I am, and I’m not quite sure I’m deserving of it.” 

“What makes you say that, my love?” she questioned. Shoto pushed himself further into her stomach, comforted by her soft, soothing presence. Yet all the while, something nickered in the back of his mind. You abandoned her for years. You don’t deserve her comfort. Sickened by the thought, Shoto pushed himself away, grabbing a throw pillow to bury his face in it instead. He heard Rei softly gasp; then, the couch cushion dipped beside him as she tentatively sat down. He curled around the throw pillow, stomach whirling as all his anxieties came to a boil. 

“Shoto,” she whispered and laid a gentle hand on the small of his back. “Talk to me, Shoto.” 

Even though he had rejected her in favor of the pillow, he found himself falling against her. She held him close as he curled against her side. He was so much bigger than her now, but he still felt like he fit naturally into her petite frame. Slowly, he pried his face away from the pillow to reveal that the fabric had darkened with tears. He looked at her brokenly, the salty droplets rolling down his cheeks. 

“Am I selfish, Mother?” he asked hoarsely, horrifiedly. Surely he must be, if everyone kept asking him if he would turn tail and run. “If I’m selfish, and am turning everyone away, then won’t… won’t I end up pushing her away and breaking her heart?” Just the thought of it broke Shoto’s, shattered it into a million little pieces. The love of his life, his dream, his salvation—the thought of doing that to her made him want to die, and the thought that he was already well on his way there made him want to die right now. 

“Shoto, sweetheart,” Rei breathed and pulled him into a crushing hug. Shoto squeezed his eyes shut and buried himself into her, breathing in her scent of floral perfume and ice water. She kissed the top of his head before resting her cheek against it. “You are not selfish. What on Earth has gotten that into your head?” 

“I just… Everyone keeps asking if I’m having second thoughts. Fuyumi was really upset thinking that I won’t be around anymore, and then Father came to talk to me about how far I’ve come as a hero, and then Izuku and Katsuki were worried about me, and—” he sucked in a breath after everything came tumbling out, trying to sort his disordered thoughts. “I just… Everything seems like it’s falling into place, and I just can’t help but think that it shouldn’t be. That it’s too easy, and because of that, I must be messing up somewhere, right?” As he looked at her, conflicted, Rei smiled reassuringly and brushed a strand of his red-and-white hair out of his face. 

“Shoto, honey, you deserve everything you’re being given. If I can’t convince you of that, though,” she smiled mischievously and gestured at the door with her chin, “maybe she can.” 

A blush exploded up from Shoto’s neck to flush all the way to the crown of his head. He grabbed the pillow and smashed his face into it, flopping across Rei’s lap to smoosh down into the couch for good measure. His mother laughed at his overreaction, barely masking the click of heels over the wood. 

“Shoto?” came the tentative voice. What is she doing here? He thought, heart pounding in his throat. 

“Sorry,” he heard Izuku say meekly. “Shoto was just so out of sorts… I thought the only one who could snap him out of it was her…” 

“Idiot! Didn’t I say it was bad luck?” Katsuki scolded. Shoto heard him huff and the creak of the pressed fabric of his tuxedo as he crossed his arms. “But, Icy-Hot is acting pretty weird today… All right, do your stuff.” 

Shoto just squirmed uncomfortably, listening to the ruffles of the lace and the soft click of heels as the woman he would be meeting at the aisle in another hour or two stopped beside him. 

“Shoto,” Momo said, the laughter evident in her voice. God, he loved her voice. It was like a song, high and sweet. “Honey, what’s the matter?” 

“Can’t look,” he mumbled evasively. “Bad luck.” 

“You don’t have to look at me, then,” she chuckled, reaching down to soothingly run a hand over his back. He found himself arching a little into her touch, calm spreading through his nerves. “Just talk to me, sweetie.” Her white gown ruffled as she kneeled down on the floor beside him. Shoto dug his fingers into the pillow, wondering if there was a way out of this mortifying situation. There wasn’t, and he really didn’t want an out, anyway. She continued to stroke down the length of his spine. “Shoto, honey, you know you’re not selfish, right?” 

The silence told Momo all she needed to know. She exhaled deeply, and he didn’t have to look at her to know she was wearing that sweet, loving smile she always wore when she comforted him. “Let me tell you something. Not for a single second have I felt neglected, nor have I had any inclination that you were sacrificing your personal life for the sake of your career,” she iterated slowly. Shoto squirmed as her reassurance battled with the poisonous beast inside him. 

“Maybe I haven’t done it to you yet, but… What about my friends and family?” 

“Boys?” Momo asked, presumably looking at Katsuki and Izuku. “Have you ever felt like Shoto hasn’t been a good friend?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Izuku blurted. “You’re an amazing friend! I can always count on you to be there when I need it, no matter what we’re doing.” 

“Yeah. If anything, he can shove off, the Icy-Hot bastard.” 

“Kacchan!” 

“What? He’s up our asses all the time!” 

“That’s because we’re partners, Kacchan! We’re gonna open up our own agency, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean he has to show up at my house for some stupid soba party he decided to have without telling anyone!” 

Shoto found his lips curling into a tiny smile into the pillow. It was a shame that bickering was so familiar, and so comforting. Momo giggled sweetly and patted him on the back. 

“See, honey? Your friends certainly don’t think you’re selfish and pushing them away.” 

Although it was a start, Shoto couldn’t help but think of his sobbing sister. 

“But… Fuyumi…” 

“Shoto, that isn’t what Fuyumi meant at all,” Rei chortled and rubbed the back of his head. “Fuyumi just felt like a mother bird watching her chick leave the nest… Women get emotional over things like that. Your sister—and the rest of us, for that matter—all know you love us very much and want to stay an active part of our lives. I’ve enjoyed every minute of watching you grow into a man, and have never felt like you were abandoning me. You’re growing up. That is a reality we must face, and sometimes… It’s a little tough for us, that’s all.” 

“That’s right,” Momo seconded. “See? We all love you, Shoto, so much. Please don’t ever think that you’re selfish, because you’re far from it.” He felt his eyes water as the emotions caused her voice to crack, indicating she was on the border of tears. Though he couldn’t look at her like he wanted to, he groped blindly in the air, searching for her hand. Momo caught it in both of hers to give it a tight squeeze, then pressed a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “Every day I’m thankful that you’ve chosen to love me,” she murmured against his skin, and he felt her tears drip down onto his hand. “My selfless hero.” 

“Momo,” he groaned. When she hummed against his hand, he smiled weakly. “I appreciate you coming to cheer me up, but if you don’t leave now, I’m going to have to commit some wedding taboo.” 

Momo laughed heartily, uttering small “okay’s” between her giggles, and slowly stood up. His fingers skimmed against the soft fabric of her lace skirt, and he found himself extraordinarily tempted to peek; but he didn’t. He knew that it would be a feeling like no other when he saw her walking down the aisle, so he just had to wait a little bit longer. 

“Thank you both for looking out for him,” Momo said to Katsuki and Izuku as she left. “I’ll see you soon!” 

Shoto waited until the clacks of her heels faded before he slowly sat up, rubbing at his tear-sticky face. Rei looked at him with a loving smile. 

“Do you feel better, sweetie?” 

“Mhmm,” he nodded with a sleepy smile. Having an existential crisis sure was exhausting. Still, his nerves soon began to buzz with the anticipation of what was yet to come. “How long until the ceremony?” he asked, looking expectantly at Izuku and Katsuki. 

“About forty-five minutes, but it doesn’t matter, because there’s no way in Hell I’m letting you walk out like that. Get your ass in here!” Katsuki growled as he marched over and snatched him up by the collar. Shoto could only stumble after him as he was dragged into the groomsmens’ room, while Rei and Izuku both looked on laughing. 

Forty-four minutes later, Katsuki had combed his messy hair back to submission and managed to erase almost all evidence of his puffy eyes and teary cheeks.

Now, Shoto stood rocking on his heels in front of the steel altar woven with ivy, wine-red roses, and white dahlias. Momo’s bridesmaids— Ochako, Mina, Tooru, and Tsuyu—were across the altar on the left, while Shoto’s groomsmen—Katsuki, Tenya, Inasa, Kirishima—and his best man Izuku were behind him to his right. Stretching out before him were rows of chairs, each one filled by someone special in his and Momo’s lives. Their families sat in the front row with bated breath. The ceremony was held in the main room while the reception would be held in an adjoining one—and in between them was a winding spiral staircase that Momo would be walking down any moment. 

Shoto straightened up as the pianist began to play. His heterochromatic eyes were fixated on the staircase and his breath stilled in his chest. He caught the flash of her heel first, then the ruffles of her lace skirt as she slowly began to descend from upstairs. Shoto’s mouth gradually fell open as she came down from the heavens like an angel, here to grace his undeserving mortal self with her rapturous love. She was chuckling quietly to her father, who held her arm as he guided her down the steps. Kyoka came down last, carrying the long train of Momo’s dress. 

He had been right to wait. It was a gorgeous sleeveless mermaid gown that hugged her beautiful figure in all the right ways. A swathe of wine red cut the skirt in half and adorned the bodice of her dress in thin, swirling threads that looked like roses. Her soft tresses of black hair were piled above her head before falling down in luscious curls to frame her face. A tiara was tucked into her hair, securing the sheer white veil cascading over her. She held a bouquet of white and red flowers as she slowly walked down the aisle, which had been laden with rose and dahlia petals by the flower girl. Even through the veil, Shoto could see her brimming with joy just by the aura radiating off her. 

When she stopped next to him, giving her father a kiss on the cheek before he left to sit with the rest of the audience, Shoto could only gape in pure awe. He didn’t even register the priest speaking. 

“Honey,” Momo laughed quietly. “You might want to pay attention.” 

“Right,” he said and snapped his mouth shut, blushing as a few of the wedding party snickered and elbowed one another. His gaze snuck back to his beautiful bride, the love of his life, who stood so patiently waiting to read her vows. When she felt him staring, she smirked and looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. 

“What?” 

“I’m just realizing how lucky I am,” he explained softly. She looked at him with a confused smile. “I get to share this life I’ve made with the most wonderful woman on the planet. I thought at first I wasn’t worthy of it, but now… I’ve realized.” 

“Realized what, Shoto?” 

“Why I worked so hard for a life like this to begin with. I wanted to become a man deserving of your love, Momo,” he explained, reaching out to gently ghost his fingers over hers. “I’m just really glad to hear that you think I’m worthy.” 

“Silly,” she laughed, tears slipping down her cheeks and clinging to the sheer lace of the veil. “You’ve always been worthy.” 

Maybe that’s the way she felt. It was just a testament to how beautiful she was, right down to her soul. But now, after this whirlwind of a day, Shoto could rest easy knowing that he really was. Because she was his angel, his goddess, his salvation, and his life, and she was worthy of everything he had to give her and more—and he would work tirelessly every day to live up to that, to keep himself worthy.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[ssamie]

eleven. “get your girl!”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide

masterlist.     suicide freak!

"was our sleepover fun, kenma-kun?" she chirped

"no. your place had suicidal traps and schemes littered all around" kenma sighed

she laughed at him as he continued to put on his shoes. kenma was forced to stay with her last night as per her request. and, of course, true to her word, they had loads of fun.

"it wasn't that bad" she pouted playfully

"there was a toaster in your bathtub, so i couldn't take a proper bath. and the only 'food' you have is a bottle of muriatic acid and candy" kenma deadpanned

"hey, i offered to feed you a full course meal!" she defended

"y-your body does not count!" kenma argued back. a faint pink hue was sploched on his cheeks as he refused to look at her.

"well whatever, let's go meet the others before we head out" she said. as the pair made their way to the agency's office, atsushi was already there along with kunikida. kenji was sleeping while ranpo was just munching on his snacks, like usual.

"good morning!" she chirped out in a la-di-da tone

"good morning, y/n-san" atsushi greeted back with a warm smile

"goomorwing" ranpo mumbled back, though it was muffled by the snacks in his mouth

"hehe, kunikida-kun~" she cooed out "were gonna head out now, kunikida-kun! we're borrowing your wallet for some pancakes on the way~"

kunikida clicked his tounge and stood up from his chair. he stomped over to her and snatched the wallet that somehow made its way into her hands. "no way in hell, you bandage-squandering-machine!" kunikida exclaimed

kenma simply stretched his arm out for her to fall onto as she dramatically screamed and stumbled back  "agh!" she exclaimed as she recoiled into an unamused kenma's chest

"n-nice nickname there, kunikida-kun" she let out a strained laugh "that stung... just a little"

"tch, if you got so much time wandering around then you might as well write a report about your capture by the port mafia" kunikida said

she chuckled lowly and spun around, only to be found sporting a serious and aloof expression "atsushi-kun." she called out

"yes?" atsushi perked up, his dual-toned eyes sparkling with determination

"write the report for me." she commanded in a serious tone

"hah?" atsushi huffed out

"well then, kenma-kun and i will be going! bye-bye~" she cooed as she waved them goodbye. kenma waved at them as they stepped out of the agency's office.

"oi! you better be back here after school, brat!" kunikida shouted. though his words were faint since they were already running off.

"well then, ready for school kenma?" she cooed

"no, i just wanna relax" kenma grumbled

"wasn't last night enough relaxation, pudding?" she mused with a sly smirk

"no, it wasn't" kenma shuddered "i told you i wasn't down to have ˢᵉˣ and yet-"

"oh, look at that! isn't that chuuya~" she cut him off with a playful grin "it seems he's not alone, akutagawa-kun is looking real tall compared to him" she hummed

by now kenma was just confused, frustrated and lowkey scared. "literally what?" he muttered "akutagawa..?" kenma muttered. "wait- isn't that the port mafia guy in the news?!" he whisper shouted

"he's still coughing up his lung like its no one's business" she chuckled as she waved her hand around "that boy really needs to invest in an inhaler or something.. or maybe some water will do.." she muttered to herself

kenma chose to ignore her as he simply tugged her arm and ran away towards the station. they scurried away all while trying not to be seen by the two men. "are you crazy?! weren't those the guys that took you?" kenma whisper shouted

"i remember you mentioning an akutagawa last night" he sighed "and not to mention that chuuya guy was there too."

"they're harmless" she reassured with a smile

"they're in the port mafia." kenma deadpanned "actually, can we please discuss the fact that you're affiliated with the mafia-"

"no." she said with a smile

"anyways, we should go.. nekomata-san said something about cleaning out the gym lockers"

kenma gaped at her as she started walking further, leaving him behind. all while sporting that goofy grin, acting as if she didn't just come across two mafiosos.

"fine, whatever.."

"what happened to you yesterday , y/n-senpai?" lev asked with a small smile

"oh nothing, lev" she chuckled dismissively "i just had a psychic tell me that if i jumped into the river near the village, my death would be guaranteed." she hummed out with a nod “so i decided to try it out" she grinned

"woah!! so did it work?" lev asked back

"lev you fucking idiot" yaku sighed

kuroo watched them and laughed along, leaving lev to fend for himself as yaku kicked his back. kuroo nudged kenma with his elbow, smirking suggestively as he wiggles his brows

"what kuroo." kenma sighed "soo.. how'd it go with your lady? hm?" kuroo grinned teasingly

kenma flushed a bright pink and buried his face into the collars of his jacket, so only his eyes could be seen. "i-it was.. yeah-" he stammered

"oya oya~ what's this supposed to mean?" kuroo sneered

"it means kenma here is a real treat in be-" she was cut off as kenma slapped her with the mop "no!" kenma shrieked flusteredly "were going away now!" was the only thing he said before dragging the girl into the lockerooms

"WHAT THE HELLSNKAKAJA" the team laughed and hollered as kuroo burst out into his hyena cackle

"wow kenma! you could've killed me with that mop" she laughed "do it again!"

"KYANMA IS ALL GROWN UP NOW!" kuroo laugh-cried "KYANMAAA HOW COULD YOU?! I WAS GONNA MARRY Y/N-CHAANN" yamamoto cried out

"stop teasing him guys, he'll get mad" kai sweatdropped as he tried to ease the team down

"yeah...so how's it feel to be one-upped by your best friend, mr.chemistry nerd?" yaku sneered as he held in his laughs

kuroo immediately stopped laughing as he sent yaku an unamused glare "HAH?! SHUT UP YOU GENETIC ANOMALY!" kuroo yelled at him

completely ignoring their loud voices, kenma and y/n arrived in the lockeroom and proceeded with the cleaning "i can't believe that just happened" kenma shook his head disappointingly

she chuckled and patted his back as they started cleaning out the lockers. "aww, don't be so down kenma-kun" she cooed

"i'll help you clean the lockers if that makes you feel better" she said as she hugged him from behind

"stop hugging me" kenma hissed at her "and that doesn't make me feel better because it's your job in the first place"

"anyways, look at lev's locker!" she said with an innocent whistle as she opened the locker.

"oya oya" she mumbled "lev is truly adorable.. but kind of.. strange, per say"

"what is it?" kenma asked. she snickered and pulled out an ungodly amount of cat food packed in tupperwares.

"what the hell." kenma sweat dropped "does he eat that or something?" kenma muttered while scrunching up his face

"i'd hope not, but let's leave this here" she chuckled "any ways.. how about checking out my locker?" she suggested with a smile as she skipped over to the locker in the furthest row

"aren't you curious to see what's in my locker, kenma-kun?" she cooed tauntingly

kenma sighed but followed her anyways "sure. part of me is, part of me isn't" he said

"here we go.." she paused dramatically as she pulled on the handle "tada!" she exclaimed as she slammed it open, presenting him a noose tied to a piece of wood which was stuck at the top.

"what the hell?!" kenma shrieked

"its a y/n-style suicide corner locker!" she announced excitedly

"i thought so, but that's creepy!" kenma exclaimed "not even the lockers are suicide-free"

"why?" kenma grumbled

"well you see, it's actually very convenient" she said "tip it over once you're done, and it instantly turns into a coffin!" she giggled menicingly

kenma sighed as he eyed her locker and her awfully enthusiastic grin. "please don't try to sell it to me like some time-saving product" he said

she then huffed out a breath of air and slyly smirked as she pushed the locker close "geez, im getting bored.. aren't you, kenma?" she said with an exaggerated sigh

"you show off your locker and now you're content?!" kenma scoffed in disbelief

she grinned mischievously and skipped away "why don't we ditch this place and go have some ramen?" she proposed

"we just got here like two hours ago" kenma said "and im pretty sure nekomata-san won't let us go just like that"

"aw, cmon! come with me, kenma-kun~ i wanna eat with you~" she whined out

"fine, fine" kenma groaned "just cover for me if i end up getting scolded"

"of course!" she beamed at him. she then threw away the unused cleaning supplies, confidently striding out the door, leaving the locker room as dirty as it was before

"oya oya~ did you have fun in there?" kuroo asked teasingly

"yup!" she replied "in fact, we had so much fun that we decided to expand our dopamine-inducing activities all the way into the ramen shop downtown!"

the team sweat dropped as she started shamelessly marching off to the gym's exit, dragging along kenma, who now had his nose buried in his game

"wait, y/n-san" nekomata stopped her. she froze mid step and slowly turned back around, sending the coach a nervous smile "yes?" she asked

"before you go, we need to discuss a few things for future tournaments" nekomata said "were gonna need some new tactics, so maybe you can suggest something?" he said

"hmm, i'll do some research later on" she hummed out

"but we're gonna be playing against fukurodani and nohebi then right?" shibayama chimed in "oooh~ i've never heard of this 'nohebi' you speak of" she cooed out in amusement

"i would've guessed" kuroo said "daisho's face would be enough to kill you, it's crazy!" he chuckled

y/n's eyes glimmered as she shook kenma's shoulders excitedly "seriously?!"

"no, and that was supposed to be a bad thing" kuroo chuckled, a fond smile resting on his lips as he watched her deflate at his words

"oh, i've got it!" she piped up "i know what we should do!" she smirked up at the team, her eyes basically sparkling as she looked at them as if she held all the answers in the world.

"let's just give up and die" she exclaimed

nekoma looked at her with blank smiles, nodding along as her confident smile never leaves her lips "let's not do that" nekomata butted in "instead, we need to practice more"

"so kenma, y/n.. since you two are going out anyways, go ahead and buy the team some snacks when you return"

while nodding enthusiastically, she practically bolted out of the gym, dragging kenma along by his collar like a cat

"y/n, let go of me" kenma grumbled as he struggled to play his game

she simply ignored him and took one of his hands anyway. she intertwined their fingers while she swings their arms back and forth

"i lost" kenma sighed in defeat as he pocketed his phone he looked down at their hands and smiled, letting her swing their arms around like a child while she sings some strange 'suicide song'

"are you sure you're supposed to be wandering around after what happened to you?" kenma asked "i mean, i didn't believe you at first about the mafia thing, but obviously you weren't lying.."

she chuckled and shook her head "oh please" she sneered "what do you expect is gonna happen? you really think they'd approach me in broad daylight-"

she cut herself off as she saw chuuya and akutagawa walking towards their direction

"nevermind. they are indeed approaching me in broad daylight"

kenma didn't react much, but his hand squeezed hers tighter and he ducked his head down in a way of hiding himself. y/n glanced worriedly at him before meeting eyes with chuuya

"kenma, is running from mafiosos perhaps listed in your bucket list?" she asked playfully

"no.. why-"

"well then cross that shit off because we're gonna need to run"

"i wanna go back" kenma panted out "all this running isn't good for my teenager body" he whined

"we ran like three blocks, kenma" she laughed softly

"thats too much" he pouted

they finally arrived at their initial destination, the ramen shop which they planned to eat at. "im so tired" kenma muttered as he rested his head on the table. while, across from him, y/n was sat, playing with the ends of his faux blond hair while she waits for their food to arrive

"ma'am, sir, here's your food!" the waitress announced as she stands before them, holding a tray of two ramens

"thank you, belladonna~" y/n cooed at her, making the girl giggle

"damn. didn't know girls like her were your type" kenma commented as he loudly slurps at his noodles. he narrowed his eyes at her, grumbling to himself while y/n unbotherdly eats her food

"well, i like all women kenma-kun" she said "but she, especially, looked like someone to agree on a double suicide"

"what about men." he asked

"it depends" she shrugged "for example, you would probably never say yes to a double suicide proposal.."

"but i bear with it because you're cute <3"

"oh okay."

a wave of comfortable silence washed over them as they continued eating, with y/n blurting out jokes here and then

"kenma-kun.." she suddenly piped up, her tone was guarded, almost as if she was on edge "yes..?" kenma answered back hesitantly

"it seems there's something inevitable in my agenda" she sighed

"huh? what is it?" kenma asked worriedly

she then stood up and smiled sheepishly at him "i gotta go to the bathroom!" she exclaimed. kenma deadpanned, though he sighed in relief as he watched her make her way to the comfort room

just as he was about to pull out his phone, somebody had cleared their throat. well, it was more like coughing for half a minute straight, but let's not get into that.

"so it's you." akutagawa muttered in a low tone

"um.. can i help you.." kenma muttered back nervously

he gulped as he fiddled with his twitching hands. it was no mistaking that the man dressed in all black was akutagawa himself. he's made quite a name for himself after appearing in quite a few news articles and headlines.

"i don't get what y/n-san sees in you" akutagawa scoffed

kenma furrowed his brows but didn't say anything back. his glare alone was enough to leave him shaking in displeasure and anxiety. kenma could feel akutagawa's hatred, anger, and jealousy practically eating at him.

"tch. first that wretched tiger, and now you. as far as my respect goes for her, this is just sad." akutagawa said with a scowl "her standards in subordinates and companions have gone down the drain." akutagawa sighed

kenma took in a breath of air and opened his mouth to speak. "um.. are you-"

"dont speak to me, you pest" akutagawa snarled at him "your existence is not only a disgrace to society, but your presence around me is displeasing and disgusts me to the core."

kenma didn't speak after that. why would he? this actual criminal just called him a pest and a disgrace, after all.

in all honesty, all kenma could think about was:

'what is with that vocabulary?'

"oh my, couldn't you tell this was the ladies bathroom?" she chuckled as she made eye contact with chuuya through the mirror "or were you too short to see the sign?" she teased

chuuya scoffed and locked the bathroom doors, making sure no one was inside and that no one could enter.

"what do you want, chuuya?" she asked, her bubbly smile dropping as she leaned back against the sink

"isn't it obvious?" chuuya replied

"no not really" she shrugged, laughing under her breath as she eyes him suggestively "is it because you wanna make out? go for a quickie? or-"

"SHUT UP! as if i'd wanna do that with you!" chuuya yelled at her

"oh please, you act as if i'd want to as well" she scoffed "the only thing i actually like about you is maybe your taste in shoes" she hummed

chuuya blinked dumbfoundedly at her words, as he looked down to inspect his shoes. "you think?" he muttered quietly

"just kidding, ofcourse" she sneered

"you-!" chuuya yelled in aggravation as he went in to kick her head, but sadly missed as she ducked down

"give it up" she sighed "just tell me what you want and let's leave each other be" she said

chuuya clicked his tongue and pulled out a back envelope sealed with wax. "boss wants to give you this." he said, handing her the envelope "said something about claiming back your place as executive"

she smiled in amusement as she inspected the paper. "is that so.." she trailed off. she turned around to turn the tap on, letting the water run as she placed the envelope under it, letting it soak and slowly break away.

"well, tell mori-san that i appreciate the welcoming invitation, but i'd have to say no" she said

chuuya's eye twitched at her answer, feeling himself feel dissatisfied and angered. "tch, what the hell, asshole?" chuuya exclaimed as he grabbed her by the collar of her nekoma uniform

"oya? is something wrong, chuuya?" she asked calmly

"why won't you come back?! you're gonna waste your damn life rotting away in that agency!" he exclaimed with gritted teeth "you'll have everything back in the mafia! why won't you come back!"

"we can be partners again!"

she didn't answer, but simply stood still, letting him crumple her shirt in his balled fists as he let out ragged breaths. the sound of the still running water filled the air.

"chuuya.."

she sighed and pried his hands off of her, turning around to turn off the faucet before facing him once again. "i joined the agency in accordance to a dear friend's advice." she said "i was told i'd find a my reason to keep living, and more so the path to clear my mind of evil and good."

"being with you again would most definitely be wonderful"

chuuya looked up at her, his throat drying up as he watched her take off a small golden star pin from her school tie. he didn't stop her as she started placing it on his coat. nor did he stop her when she placed a small kiss on the back of his hand.

"but maybe in another life, we could be partners once more" she chuckled

"that pin suits you" she said "it matches with your hair. keep it on, alright?"

it was all she said before walking off, opening the door and closing it behind her, leaving him alone with the faint sounds of dripping water. chuuya looked in the mirror, fiddling with the pin with his hands.

"tch. another life, my ass" he scowled, wiping off the tears that brimmed his eyes

"why the hell do i have to wait that long?"

as she stepped out of the comfort room, she walked back to the table she and kenma were sitting at, only to find him literally itching to run off. as kenma made eye contact with her, he immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door

"woah woah! calm your horses, pudding" she chuckled "what's wrong?"

"what's wrong is the fact that akutagawa came up to me and literally started degrading and insulting me???" he exclaimed

"what?" she asked with furrowed brows

"he was badmouthing me with really deep words and insults! like, i didn't even know what some of the words meant.." kenma grumbled "im so glad he left after like five minutes"

"also, what took you so long?" kenma asked her "i got caught up in a conversation with an old friend, that's all" she answered nonchalantly

"right.." kenma nodded, though he wasn't convinced. he took notice of her crinkled shirt and collar, as well as the lone pin that she always wears, which was now missing.

"y/n? can we just go back please?" kenma pleaded

"of course, kenma" she said with a smile "im sorry you had to deal with akutagawa-kun"

"its fine.. i just wanna go back" he said in a dismissive tone

the walk back to nekoma was quiet. they had stopped by a nearby gas station for some snacks to give to the boys, but other than that, no one really talked.

"im gonna ask kuroo something" kenma said before he walked off

she simply nodded with a raised brow as she watched the pudding head march up to his best friend

"y/n-senpai!" inouka called for her. shaking her head, she disregarded kenma and rushed over to the first years.

"kuroo, i need advice." kenma blurted out "oya oya? what kind of advice?" kuroo asked back

"the y/n kind" kenma groaned

"we went out to eat but at some point she went to the bathroom.." kenma started

"i asked her why she took so long, and she told me she talked to a friend. but im pretty sure it's that chuuya person"

kuroo crossed his arms as he looked at his friend questioningly "what makes you say that?" he asked

"we ran into him for a quick moment, then i saw the guy with him at the ramen shop" kenma answered vaguely

"well.. i dunno much about what happened but.." kuroo trailed off "i think theres really only one thing you could do" the bedhead captain said

"and that is?"

"confess your feelings, duh!" kuroo whisper shouted

"i-i don't have feelings for her!" kenma whisper shouted back

"you did not just say that, oh my fucking god" kuroo groaned out in aggravation "you're literally asking me for love advice because you got jealous over an old acquaintance of hers" kuroo deadpanned

"i never said i was jealous.." kenma muttered sheepishly "you don't need to say it, i could already tell" kuroo laughed at him "but seriously, kenma.." kuroo mused, a huge grin creeping up onto his lips as he slapped his hand on kenma's back

"go get your girl!"

[therenlover]

Welcome Home (Part One of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Tags: Pre-Relationship, First Meetings, Slow Burn, Post-Wandavision

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild Language, References to Ralph Bohner

Word Count: 2400~

This fic has already been posted to my AO3, along with the next two parts! I’ll be continuing it on both platforms.

-------

“So… Ralph Bohner?”

Peter looked up from his mug, the tea inside having gone cold long before. His eyes had been fixed on the floor, his leg bouncing far quicker than what should have been humanly possible. It had been a little over 24 hours since the Hex had disappeared, and Peter was firmly of the mindset that he was taking it all very well.

Even to himself, he was a terrible liar.

“Ralph?” His new keeper spoke again, voice soft in the quaint kitchen of the brownstone that Peter would be calling home for the foreseeable future.

It had all been so strange. In one moment he was reorganizing his new attic and trying to figure out how to work the damn DVD player, and somehow in the next, he was a prisoner in his own mind, backseat driving as a witch used his face and voice to torment Wanda. Not his Wanda, though; a new, strange, grieving Wanda with unfathomable power at her fingertips. Thankfully, that didn’t last very long.

After just 2 weeks in this strange new reality, Peter missed the X-Men. He missed his dad, no matter how absent and strange he was. He missed his friends, and his sisters, and the strange normalcy that came with being a part of the team when the world wasn’t in danger. Peter found himself wishing that things would just slow down enough for him to catch up and figure out what the hell was going on. That was a new one for him.

At least he still had his speed. If he had lost his powers in the freak accident that sent him into another universe… well he didn’t want to think about that.

Despite this, the FBI guy who had dragged him out of Westview and across the river to New York had given him an explicit warning not to use his powers while civilians were present. Peter didn’t mind Agent Woo, he seemed like a good guy and treated him with more decency than most government lackeys would have back home, but it was gonna be completely impossible for Peter to avoid using his speed in public. It wasn’t like Agent Woo would even be around to stop him anyway. The only person who could possibly protest was the poor sap that the F.B.I. called in to babysit him, and they would never be able to keep up even if they tried.

“Peter? Are you okay?”

Fuck.

His eyes shot up to meet hers, “You aren’t supposed to know that name,”

“I’m not supposed to know a lot of things,” she replied almost nonchalantly, “but neither of us is known for doing the things we’re supposed to do, are we?”

Peter chuckled, and for the first time in a while, he cracked a genuine smile. “I guess not,”

The smile seemed to please the woman across the counter. Smiling back, she wrapped her hands around her own mug and sat down on a tall stool, leaning towards Peter. “Now, first things first! I want you to ignore whatever rules the FBI gave you while you’re here. My house, my rules, and despite the fact that you’re in witness protection I doubt anyone unwanted will come knocking at the door to snatch you up,”

As she spoke, Peter really took her in for the first time. She was a small thing, in shape and stature, but soft, all rounded edges and gentle touches. Despite her young face, there was an age to her, too. Looking deep into his memories, he realized she had the same haunted look in her eyes that he had seen all too often in the older members of his team. It was the look of someone who has seen unspeakable loss and survived to tell the tale. He decided at that moment that maybe staying with her wouldn’t be so bad.

“So about that rules thing,” Peter tapped his fingers against his half-full mug, doing his best not to speed up and break it, “I don’t exactly do well with rules. They aren’t my thing. I can’t promise that the cops won’t show up at the door, and I especially can’t promise that they won’t be there because of something I did that I knew was against the rules,”

When Peter met the woman’s eyes again she was still smiling, not a hint of displeasure on her face.

“If I had a problem with you being you, Peter, I wouldn’t have offered to take you in. Besides, as long as the cops that show up are human there won’t be a problem,”

Peter paused. “What?”

“That’s a question for another time,” The woman took a sharp turn then, hopping off of her stool and walking her mug to the sink where she proceeded to rinse it out. “Next, even in public, I refuse to call you Mr. Bohner. Ralph I can do if you care about staying anonymous, but I won’t be acknowledging any part of your… chosen last name,” Even as she shuddered, there was humor lacing her voice, “Bohner, though? Really?”

“It’s funny!”

She turned back to Peter with her face scrunched up in faux disgust. “Maybe to a middle schooler,”

“I had just been pulled out of my room, sucked through a portal, and thrown onto the steps of goddamn Quantico, so excuse me for not being on top of my game. Besides, Bohner wasn’t even my first choice. They wouldn’t let me go with Jack Ingoff,”

That was enough to send them both into a fit of giggles.

“Jack Ingoff?” She wheezed, “You tried to get the F.B.I. to give you the legal name Jack fucking Ingoff? That’s just so you,”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re both an idiot and the funniest person I have ever met,”

“I’d better be,”

As they continued to laugh, Peter found himself completely enthralled by this strange woman’s face and it occurred to him that she was incredibly beautiful.

It wasn’t as if she was a supermodel, though in Peter’s eyes it wouldn’t have taken much to make her one. Every part of her just seemed to glow as she gripped her stomach and stifled laughter. She was pretty in quiet ways, in soft glances and gentle touches and unrestrained joy. In the way that everything around her felt like it was full of life. In the kindness that had never wavered while Peter had sat at her kitchen counter, even when he had come through the door swearing at Agent Woo and demanding that he didn’t need a babysitter.

The longer he looked, the more beautiful she became, in actions and words and features combined, and Peter suddenly became aware that if he hadn’t taken the time to really see her, he never would have realized. He was glad he had slowed down for once.

Somewhere down the line, her laughter quieted.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “what’s your deal?” The cold mug in his hands was suddenly extremely interesting.

Across the counter she stilled, frozen in place for a moment. When she spoke, her voice held an edge of… fear? “What do you mean?”

Peter did his best to backpedal.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I was just wondering what you did to get stuck with me, that’s all. I doubt they would stick my annoying ass with just anybody, especially after… well everything that went down in Westview. Plus, I’m not just a normal dude. What average New York socialite would take in a kleptomaniac who just so happens to also be inhumanly fast out of the goodness of their heart?”

As he spoke, her shoulders relaxed and she loosened her grip on the edge of the marble countertop. “Oh, my deal,”

“Yeah. There’s more to you than what meets the eye, I can tell,” Something in the way her face flushed at his words made Peter’s heart fill with pride.

“I… well I had a unique upbringing,” she responded, voice careful and measured while she watched the floor, “I’m not a mutant, not like you, but I have a little bit of power at my disposal that makes me useful to heroes and hero adjacent agencies. I’m not a part of the team, my skills aren’t usually helpful when it comes to fighting, but they keep tabs on me just in case I’m needed. This was one of those times,”

Peter snorted. “Sounds like a pretty shitty deal,”

“Trust me, if I didn’t have to have the government breathing down my back, I wouldn’t, but after I worked with the Avengers they pulled up my file and found out I shouldn’t exist, so they’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on me ever since,”

“Ah… well, next time just don’t get caught,”

“Not all of us have the luxury of being able to dodge bullets and outrun law enforcement, Peter. Besides, I like this house and I’m not quite in the mood to have to abandon it just yet.”

He shrugged. “To each their own. Now how the hell did you get stuck with me? Were you just the closest or did everybody else refuse,”

“Well, actually I offered to take you in,”

Peter choked on the air. “Why the hell would you do that?”

She was quick to defend herself, and in a way him too.

“Because Jimmy is my friend, and when a friend needs a favor I try to help them out. It’s more than that, though. I won’t lie. I’m fascinated by you, Peter Maximoff. I find you wonderful exactly how you are and I couldn’t stand to let any of the other assholes in New York try to stomp out your personality. Here with me, you can just be you, and knowing that you’re able to be comfortable until we find you a way home was more than enough of a reason for me to volunteer to take you in. Besides, if you weren’t with me you’d probably be in the tower’s holding cell, and believe me, that wouldn’t be any fun,”

It took Peter a minute to fully digest what he was hearing.

He wasn’t going to be a burden. There would be no curfews or screaming matches or long lectures about his chosen pastimes. She wanted every single part of him there and had already gone out of her way to assure him that even the worst of him was welcome under her roof. Even during his time at X-Mansion, he had never been treated like this.

Sure, he had been himself there. People would yell or try to stop him from doing what he wanted but their efforts were futile. He couldn’t be tamed. At best the other members of the team had just tried to ignore him until his powers came in handy. He was an annoyance at worst and the household funny guy at best, and yet now a total stranger wanted him around. It took all of Peter’s small reserve of restraint to not take a victory lap around the block there and then.

Being wanted was the best feeling in the world.

When his head cleared, he smiled again. “You know, when Agent Woo brought me in here I was fully prepared to wait for him to leave then make a run for it, but I’ve decided to save you from the F.B.I.’s wrath and stay for a while instead. You’re welcome,”

He expected a snappy retort, but instead, her words came out strangely genuine, almost a whisper.  “Thank you for saving me, Peter. I appreciate it,”

“Any time,”

Slowly the flush from before crept back onto her face.

“I know you’re not the type who likes to be tied down, so I won’t keep you here much longer,” she said, before taking Peter’s mug to the sink, “but there are just a few more things I need to tell you before you go off to do whatever it is you do on a Thursday morning.”

He would never admit it but Peter felt anything but tied down. Instead, he just nodded.

“Go for it,”

She washed the mug as she spoke. “Alright, well first of all what’s mine is yours. Unless I specifically ask you not to use something you have free reign over whatever you need. You can come and go as you please, I keep odd hours and don’t mind a little noise even when I’m sleeping. The house is pretty simple layout-wise, you can explore whenever you want, but the room at the end of the hallway to your right is my bedroom and I’d prefer if you didn’t go in there unless you need to. Your room is the first door at the left of the stairs on the second floor and… well, I think that’s all,”

There was a sort of sorrow in the woman’s eyes when she stopped, placing the now clean mug on a drying rack before turning to face Peter again. A yearning. It made Peter want to… well, he didn’t quite know what it made him feel. He just wanted to do whatever would ease the strange pain that resided in his new friend.

He went to speak but nothing came out.

“Is everything okay Peter?”

It was Peter’s turn to flush, face red with shame. “I...uh, well, I wasn’t quite paying attention when the agent introduced us. I’m gonna need to know your name if I’m living with you,”

It came as no surprise when she laughed gently, making her way across the kitchen towards the living room, passing Peter at the counter on her way. “My name is Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you, Peter,” The strange sorrow was still present, reflected in her words, but it seemed lighter than before, more manageable.

“Nice to meet you too Y/N,”

“I’m heading to work,” she pulled on a light jacket as she spoke, “so feel free to explore at your own leisure while I’m gone. I’ll hopefully be back by 5, but sometimes things run late. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

Peter shook his head no. “If I can’t find something I need I’ll just run out and grab it myself.

Y/N laughed again. “Just don’t get caught, you won’t know the number to call from jail yet,”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,”

She paused, halfway out the door. “Oh, and Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome home,”

----

a/n: Thank you so much for reading! I have 3 1/2-ish parts of this series written, but the plan is for it to be a long haul where each part is a connecting oneshot. I hope you’re excited! 

Please don’t post my work to other sites, thanks!

[albino-whumpee]

The Master´s party

A little teaser for you. 

A grin quirked the man´s lips up when he held his chin in a bruising grip. Sann let out a pathetic yelp as the man pulled his face closer to his. 

“You´re an awful liar”

(This one´s long, just heads up for that and just so you know what Albus is taking about at the end, read Of secrets and memories )

This is a series, here´s the Masterlist

Taglist:  @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

TW// Dehumanization, slavery, all the box boy jazz, past abuse, shock collars, defiant whumpee, torture, past abuse, conditioning, anxiety, desrealization, humilliation and dissoci@tion. 

The invitation came in a golden envelope.

Albus silently waited for Zarai to read it. He didn´t expect her face to turn from taciturn to horror in the split of a second.

“Absolutely not” she shouted, taking her phone and furiously typing a number as she walked to the studio. Albus glanced at Momo who meowed to be fed.

He was petting the cat while it ate, when he saw Zarai steaming from rage and straightened up in instinct, bracing for a hit that never came.

Zarai let out a loud groan before putting her phone back on the table with a slam that made Albus jump. Slowly his muscles relaxed as he watched the woman rub her temples. He waited a second, just to be sure.

“I can’t believe it. They’re nuts!” She shot her hands up suddenly “Uniform etiquette? That’s- I don’t even know where to start on how wrong that is!” She continued before exhaling a loud, long sigh.

Albus extended her coffee and gulped when he saw her drink it in one go. “I-Is there something wrong with mistress Heleba’s party, ma’am?” He ventured, catching her attention and glad it didn´t come off as misbehaving. She had simply let her chin rest on her hand as she stared at the envelope.

“They want pets to attend the party with uniforms”

Albus frowned. Wasn´t that normal? 

“Would ma´am prefer me to stay then?” he tried, picking up the cup to clean it. He knew she wasn´t exactly a fan of pets in the first place, but her discomfort was aimed more at their owners, so a party with too many of them around? He could smell her complaints from miles.

Albus was surprised to hear her sigh instead. 

“No, I need you there. I wanted you to meet other potential clients and the agencies we will form partnership bonds with in the future. Especially Dune´s executives, but…” she tapped the envelope with bottled anger. His eyes drifted down to the letter.

“Pets are required to use shock collars as uniform etiquette and security measures to our dear guests”

The man at the party´s reception told Zarai as Albus lifted his chin. The man´s partner putting the leather white collar on Zarai´s hand, as the other checked the electrodes against his neck.

Ah, what a familiar sensation, he thought to himself.

“Is it really necessary? He´s not dangerous…” She asked putting the leather collar on her purse with a deep frown on her face.

“Orders from above ma’am” the security guard limited himself to answer.

Zarai whipped her head back at the boy when she heard the buckles click. His hands twitched but he clasped them tightly over his lap, directing a small smile at his owner.

“It´s fine ma´am. Is just a security measure” he said, but a lump formed on his throat when he saw the remote. Squeezing his wrists tight, he held back the impulse to take the collar off himself.

“This button allows you control the intensity and this one is to make it shoot the electricity. Like this” It was already on the lowest voltage so when the man pressed the button, the collar’s box little LED lights turned red for a second as a short wheeze was forced out of Albus.

You forced me to do this 778900. You keep trying to run off somewhere… Don’t be so impatient. Someone will buy you, eventually. This is for your own good.

Zarai yanked the remote from the man “Enough!” He stared at her in confusion as Albus caught his breath. “There was no need for a demonstration” she shot a glare at the man who offered an apologetic smile before she walked away, dragging the boy with her by the arm. “C’mon, Claude will be waiting inside” she whispered, not expecting to not hear a reply. She stopped a few steps away, noticing Albus trembling figure. She looked around the sea of people and dragged both to a small spot besides the pet’s bathroom.

“Can…can you lift your neck Albus?” The boy complied without fighting. Almost robotically. He blinked surprised, however, when he felt her fingers searching for something on his neck. “There” she said with a triumphant click. “They never said anything about it being on” she said, putting the remote into his own hands “I don´t have a use for this. Keep it hidden for me, would you?” she smiled.

Albus eyes softened as he clenched his hand on the remote. “Thank you ma’am”.

Zarai recomposed after giving him a short squeeze on the shoulder “Let´s go. I don´t want to be here more than necessary. Oh, Claude!” she said, calling the doctor talking with some businesswoman and waving at him as Albus hid the remote on his coat´s pocket.

—-

“Mister Serra! I-I didn´t know” some of the guests told him upon seeing the collar on his neck. He was glad none of the people he considered close was there to see him sport the tag he had tried so very hard to keep hidden.

“I apologize for the confusion” he would say in a bow.

“A pet that can read and work, quite unheard of” a man with a funny mustache said reflexively. Albus recognized him from the archives Zarai had made him memorize about the party´s guests. The vice-president of the adjacent company of the many, Rupert Glass owned. “Pretty interesting tactic from Miss Montenegro to keep your status hidden. Never understood her very well… I might try buy one like you. Normal pets are mostly just for show and I want one that can be useful” he said brushing Albus from head to toe. The boy knew better than to keep his eyes at the same level and shyly let down his gaze.

He wished they could go back home soon.

Even if Zarai treated him well, for most of the attendants he was at the same level of importance as the fine glass on their hands.

A luxury they could afford to break.

They only didn´t because it wasn´t theirs. He, wasn´t theirs. It would be rude if they injured or broke someone else´s property. But they didn´t shy from dragging around by a leash their half-naked, bruised pets. 

Some of their eyes nailed on him with anger, but quickly lifted up at their owners pull on their necks. 

Albus could still feel the glares the other pets shot at him and tilted his head only to catch a glimpse of light brown hair. Sann was wearing a tuxedo with a white rose on his chest. But as soon as he spotted him, Sann disappeared into the sea of people taking Albus´ breath with him. “I…It has been a pleasure to meet you Mister Darcy, but I must attend some…matters. Miss Zarai gives you her greeting and wishes you good health” he said, offering his hand to stretch. The older man only gave it a look before wrinkling his nose.

“I don´t handshake pets” he said. Albus backed his hand slowly.

“Excuse me. Thank you for your time, sir” he bowed as he had learnt back on the facility before he dismissed him with a flick of his hand.

He quickly walked away to scan the crowd, not finding the freckled boy among them. He tried searching by the special drink fountain for pets in the back, next to the bathrooms. It only served water and tasteless crackers. A clear contrast with the tables overflowing with delicious looking pastries and varied choices of drinks for their masters. But he wasn´t there or at tables, laying his head on Robert´s knees either.

The man sat with another man, carding his fingers through a shivering girl´s hair sitting by his knees with a charming smile on. Albus backed away slowly when the girl convulsed forward and the man next to Robert laughed along him.

He thought maybe he had imagined him, when he felt a tug on his neck.

“Hey, this one´s collar´s turned off” a man with a security uniform told his partner. The man tightened his grip around Albus´ wrist

“What? Did it turn it off?” the man harshly made Albus whip his head to a side. A whimper escaped his lungs. “Ugh, delicate pet alert” He slapped him repeatedly “Did you turn off your collar? Thought you could get away with it? Do you want us to tell your owner what you did? Hm?”

“N-No, no sir” Albus heaved as both men laughed like jackals “Please, let me explain-Ah!” The man holding him twisted his arms to his back.

“Stay, boy, stay. Don´t make us hurt you more than necessary” He yanked his head up so his partner had free way to the collar. He heard it click on again “What a good boy” he cooed, wrapping a zip tie around his wrists “We can´t let this slip, though. We got to tell your owner” he said, holding his head down by the neck and forcing him to walk.

The man roughly shoved him to his knees besides the guard station, a few steps away from the entrance. His breathing got shallow as his eyes darted through the crowd trying to find the familiar black long hair and the blue suit of her partner.

He saw the man talking to the microphone to announce him as if he was a lost child on a supermarket. No. It was more similar to the announcement of a lost wallet.

People stared at him with indignation. Pets stared with apologetic looks before they clung to their master´s arms.

He pulled his knees closer to his chest. 

It was like he was back at the facility. Being disciplined in front of other trainees because his handlers were getting bored of him. Getting pushed to the front at the smallest inconvenience to make an example out of him to encourage the others to follow every order their handlers gave them through his own tearing screams.

He felt hands on his shoulders and jerked back so hard he banged his head against the wall.

“It´s me Albus, I´m sorry for scaring you” Zarai said, helping him up as a few spots invaded his sight “Didn´t expect this to happen…I´m sorry” she whispered as he felt the release of the zip tie on his wrists. He rubbed his bruising wrists, which infuriated the woman. “What´s the meaning of this?” She yelled at the guards.

One of them sighed “Ma´am, this is just standard procedure. It shouldn´t leave marks. Maybe albinos bruise too easily”

Albus heard those words and his brain turned off.  

Everything was below a thick curtain of fog, the sounds were slurred and his limbs moved involuntarily. It was like living a dream. Was he actually awake? He didn´t know.

He felt his legs walk, his mouth speak and his hand write as Zarai talked. But he wasn´t sure if it was real. He wasn´t sure if the people around him were really there.

Their voices sounded as if they were underwater. Unclear and foggy. A fog, thick as a veil covered the world around him as he walked. After a while, he suddenly found himself leaning against a wall. Just hearing the noise of conversations on the distance, when he allowed himself to wrap his arms around his knees on the floor of a balcony.

He tried to pull air into his suddenly too tight chest.

He hated it.

He hated not knowing why exactly those words put him off like that. Having the feeling he hated to hear it in a certain specific voice. He hated the laughter inside his head that filled his senses. He buried his head in his arms.

“Fuck off” he hissed, not expecting to feel a hand on his back.

He jumped up when he saw Sann on his tuxedo, letting out a lame squeak that made the other grin.

The boy stood up “Sorry…” Sann signed with a frown, his hands twitching in front of his chest as if wanting to say something else but not knowing how, he only stared at him.

Albus waited, just in case, before he looked away and set his eyes on the city “Don´t be, you just surprised me” He opened his mouth and then closed it with a sigh “I´m sorry… Just...give me a second” he said, biting his lip when Sann held his hand.

He brushed his thumbs against his pale hand as if saying “It´s ok, just breathe”

Albus made his lips a fine line before letting it out.

“I might always say hello with food, but you always try to hold my hand” he said in a half giggle, squeezing on Sann´s hand slightly tighter. A smile came to his face and somehow, couldn´t shake it away. 

“…Can we stay like this for a bit?” he asked, feeling the fog on his head dissipate slowly.

“Yes” Sann signed before curling his fingers around Albus´ hand.

Albus looked above at the night sky feeling the warmth of the boy´s hand leak into his before he took a deep breath. Despite the sound of the party inside where most likely Zarai was searching for him, it melted with the usual sounds of the city and the rumble of the sea in the distance. He let out his breath slowly, calm settling on his chest.

He wondered since when he had started to feel that way around the other boy. The other pet looked at the cars below with a little smile hanging on his lips. His hair was mussed up, pulled back in a way that framed his face and made his features pop. The sleek attire with the rose delicately set on his chest, was a look that couldn´t be ruined even by the shock collar on his neck intermittently lighting up.

“You look stunning” the words rolled out of his mouth and didn´t notice he had said it out loud until Sann turned to him with wide eyes. He pulled his free hand to his chin to sign a thank you with an even wider smile.

“You. Too” Sann signed as the albino felt his cheeks burn and tried to hide it by fixing his glasses. He squinted when he noticed something about his hand.

“What´s this?” he asked, fishing Sann´s hand and inspecting the new pink circles around his knuckles. Cigarette burns, he identified bitterly. “What happened? A punishment?” His tone urgent as he lifted his eyes and found Sann´s smile had ran away from his face.

He shook his head.

“No? Then why…” Albus asked as Sann pulled his hand away to lean on the balcony, watching the traffic below with a lost gaze and hiding the injured hand. Albus joined him a second later “…just because?”  Sann nodded with a shrug that pulled a string on his heart. Albus wondered if that was normal treatment for Sann and felt a sting of guilt.

It was a possibility to end up with an owner like that, the handlers had told them as much enough times, but Sann deserved someone better as owner. He deserved to be able to smile without fear of not looking pretty and eager enough to avoid being hurt.

The thoughts raced through his head before being interrupted when Sann looked up at the fireworks popping in the distance, putting that beautiful smile on his face yet again. He turned to him and finding his worried frown, his gray eyes softened.

He moved his hands up to sign, but then had second thoughts and simply smiled with slightly worried eyebrows.

“I´ll be fine” Albus could almost hear him say as he pointed his head at the fireworks.

As Albus watched the show of colors a dread began to grown in his heart. He was to act as a person, but that didn´t change he was a Pet. Just like Sann and the many others inside. They looked at him with envy and resentment, but Sann...Sann didn´t. Despite the scars on his neck and the rest of his body; the sadness behind his eyes, he still would let him hold his hand and smile at fireworks. The pleasant memories of his time with Zarai began to pop into his mind like the blue and yellow and red lights shining in the night sky.

How could he even change that for him if he couldn´t be free from it himself?

Albus felt Sann tap on his shoulder and he turned, only to find him smiling at him holding the rose of his chest and gently put it on him. He blinked perplexed at the rose, now on his chest, before his eyes found him shrugging playfully.

“Gift. For you” Sann signed as he watched Albus take out his small notebook and pen and extend it for him. It took him a second, but Sann pulled it up so Albus could read it.

“My Master can be very explosive, but he´s a man of his word. He promised me he would give me a bouquet of roses if I could stand the burns…“ Albus eyes widened in horror before Sann smiled again and tapped on the note, urging him to continue “I only got one flower, but do you like it?”

Albus was speechless for a long moment that made Sann tense up and shrink into his shoulders. Albus hand gently guided him to look at him again.

“I love it” he said as Sann´s face lit up “But, the best gift you can give me is your smile” at that, Sann´s cheeks flared up. “S-So, please, don´t do something like that for me ever again. Please...” Sann was stunned by his words and only could looked down as Albus let down his hand and Sann noticed the wild blush expanding on the albino´s cheeks, right before he felt a shock on his neck.

Sann wheezed, bent over the balcony, before he felt yet another shock. As he gasped for air, Sann worried if his Master was hidden in the shadows. The terror of it being true made him step forward, a primal fear screaming at him to rush to his side. 

“Wait!” Albus caught his wrist before he could run off. Sann stared at him for a second, heart drumming loudly in fear, agitated, so much more than the composure the albino put as front to his worry as he looked up at him could calm him. Ruby eyes full of determination nailed on him through long, white eyelashes. “Before you go, can I give you a kiss?”

Sann was thrown off the loop and glared back inside, darting his eyes through the crowd in fear of another shock, but when he felt Albus hand on his, his heart eased.

He asked.

He asked a toy like him who couldn´t say no.

Sann returned the squeeze and took one step closer. His hands were small and thin, a bit rough around the edges but so soft. Sann looked at his lips and waited for them to seal with his, but to his surprise, Albus pulled his hand and pressed his lips into his knuckles. 

It was a light kiss. Soft and soothing, Sann´s heart melted when he didn´t step closer to kiss him somewhere else and instead only saw Albus pull away.

“See you later” 

Sann stared at him for a moment, longing for more, but as Albus let go whispering, “Take care” he knew he couldn´t be greedy. He had to hang on to it until there was a chance they could meet again.

His Master glared at him when he came running to kneel besides him and then tugged on his collar, lifting his chin up as he checked his chest pocket and found it empty.  He gripped on either side of his cheeks and pressed just enough on his throat with a severe look on his eyes that made Sann recoil before he clipped his leash to his collar and took him outside. 

Sann slowed down when they passed through the security line to return the shock collar, but when the man only tugged on it for him to keep walking, he knew the collar would stay on that night. 

When the man opened the trunk for him to crawl and sit on, he saw something grim shine on his eyes. 

“Where did your rose go?” the man asked, stroking Sann´s cheek. “Did he like it?” 

For the split of a second Sann stopped knowing how to breathe, but the next he was leaning into the man´s hand, shaking his head and then tilting it as if he didn´t understand the question. 

A grin quirked the man´s lips 

[the-port-marfiar]

Change

~.~.~

Chuuya knew, as soon as he walked into the office, that this was going to be a bad day. 

He just had that instinct, and he prepared himself for the worst upon walking into the office, because the last time he felt this, this uneasiness, was 4 years ago. 

The night Dazai left. 

He remembers the night very clearly. 

‘You know, Dazai, when you left, I opened up a bottle of Petrus, that’s how happy I was.’

Half of that was true, he did open a bottle of Petrus, but was he happy? 

Fuck no. 

He cried, and he hates himself for that. Why cry over- over Dazai?

He shuddered, pushing the thoughts at the back of his mind and mumbled a word of greeting towards Kouyou, who passed him. 

“Chuuya, Mori’s calling for you, in his office.” Kouyou had a look of pity on her face, Chuuya knew that whenever Mori called someone to his office, shit was about to go down. And not the good kind, either. 

He nodded, straightening his dress shirt a bit more, and headed to his office, taking a deep breath and knocking on the hardwood. 

A faint ‘come in’ was heard and Chuuya pushed the door open, standing with perfect posture as he shut the door behind him, facing Mori, “Boss, you called for me?” 

A thin sadistic smile spread over his face, “Yes, I have a new mission for you, details are on the desk in your office. You are to follow what I wrote, if I find out you failed to acknowledge the directions I've set up for you...it won’t be very pretty, Chuuya-kun.” 

Fuck.

So that’s what it was about, the dread eating him up from inside. 

What kind of sick mission did Mori assign him now? Maybe it was just a long mission..or maybe, maybe it was a normal day? A normal mission, and his instincts were just off... 

Yeah, that was it..

Chuuya nodded curtly, shuffling out of said office, some bypassing group of subordinates humming in acknowledgment, Chuuya smiled at them and headed down the hall, where his office was. 

Maybe he was just overreacting, it was nothing. Nothing was wrong. 

Hopefully.

Chuuya grimaced and unlocked the door to his office, taking notice of the small paper note on his desk. 

Now, how had Mori come to his office, Chuuya would never know. 

He picked up a small piece of paper, turning it around and reading it’s contents. It was a simple enough mission, an illegal prostitution site came to surface disguised as a cafe, he just needed to burn the place down. 

Chuuya’s eyes skimmed through the paper, before freezing at the last 2 words. 

Use Corruption.

Why?

He could easily fulfill this mission without corruption, and Mori..he knew Chuuya couldn’t use corruption without Dazai.. 

Chuuya gulped, thinking. 

Then this meant.. 

This meant Mori..

Yeah, no mistaking it-

This was a suicide mission.

~.~.~

Dazai didn’t know what to expect when he came home that night. He was bored, tired, yes, but sleep never came to him by will, he just collapsed every few days and would wake up a few hours later. 

That was his sleeping schedule. Unhealthy? Maybe, but Dazai wasn’t going to die by exhaustion anytime soon, so it was acceptable. 

He didn’t eat much, either. Even if he tried, it’d immediately come back up. He had opened up to Yosano about this, and she helped. She helped him find light foods that not only his frail body could easily digest, but he also enjoyed the selected foods. 

One of these foods was canned crabs. He didn’t eat much of it either, it was like a treat. He usually had plain rice, but after his usual check-up with Yosano, she had given him permission to have some. 

And so he plopped himself into the couch, munching on said food while mindlessly scrolling through his phone. 

He heard knocking on his door, and paused momentarily, who would be at his apartment at-

Dazai glanced at the clock on the wall-

1:37am?!

He got up, grabbing is loaded gun and clicking the safety off, before cautiously opening the door, seeing-

“Chibi?” 

Said man looked up with sad eyes, Dazai looking around him, to see if anyone followed him there, before looking questionably at the shorter male, “D-Dazai- Can I come in-?” 

Dazai ushered him inside, shutting and locking the door behind him, seating him on the couch and going into the kitchen to make some tea for the both of them. 

Dazai would’ve teased him, thrown in a few dog jokes here and there- but no, this was serious. Chuuya was being-  UnChuuya-like

He placed the gun on the counter, picking up the 2 mugs and walking back into the living room.

Chuuya was hugging his knees, covering him tightly was a baby blue throw blanket, the only thing visible was his small tuft of red hair peeking out from the top of the blanket. 

Dazai handed him his cup of tea, before seating himself next to him, taking a small sip of his tea, careful not to burn his tongue. A few minutes passed, and Chuuya’s shivering body stopped shaking from the cold, and he seemed a bit more relaxed, Dazai decided to break the comfortable silence. 

“Chuuya, what happened?” Chuuya tensed at the sudden noise but faced the brunette with a dazed look in his eyes, “I- Mori..He assigned me a mission..and-” Chuuya’s voice cracked and a sob got stuck between his teeth, his body starting to shake again. 

“He-he told me to use Corruption.”

Dazai put a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, it’s fine Chuuya, you...do you want me to come along?” 

The redhead shook his head, “No- I want out, he- I don’t-”

Dazai smiled cheekily, “Oh-finally.” Chuuya looked at him, confused, “Will the agency..accept me?” 

“Well, they accepted me! Doesn’t the chibi know what a great person I am?” Chuuya shuddered and grimaced, “Yeah, well, I’m not as great as you are, Osamu.” They both stared hard at each other, before bursting into laughter, real, genuine laughter. 

Chuuya smiled, he missed this. 

“You know, chuuya, I never really broke up with you..we just-” 

“Had a small break-” Dazai giggled, and Chuuya swooned, “Yeah, I-I guess you could say that..” 

Dazai leaned in, his lips ghosting over Chuuya’s, as consent, before the older’s eyes fluttered shut as he closed the gap between them, their lips dancing in a rhythm. 

This was nice, this was familiar. Chuuya smiled into the kiss and wrapped his hands around Dazai’s neck, kissing deeper, the tea cups long forgotten on the table.

Dazai’s hands found themselves on Chuuya’s slim waist, caressing the skin underneath his shirt. He relished the way Chuuya kissed him, it was almost as if they kissed everyday. 

Everything was just so perfect with Chuuya.

~.~.~

[misedejem]

Date Nights

Series: Persona 4 Ship: Kannao (Kanji Tatsumi/Naoto Shirogane) Word count: 9196

If ever Naoto was feeling low, Kanji would try harder than ever to show her how much he cared. Little gestures of good will and love that would go towards easing the pain. It had been that way from when they first met, and was still the case after over fifteen years.

So when Naoto found herself with Kanji in a slump and a few hours to spare, she took it upon herself to do the same.

(Basically lots of domestic future headcanon shenaningans~ As a note, Naoto is genderfluid in my fics, and this one uses she/her. AO3 link in the notes)

It had been an awfully long time since the Shiroganes had been working away from home at the same time.

Kanji had become unemployed almost two years ago and had been pooling his resources into his online store since then. And Naoto had been on leave a full year now, because of Chihiro, and then the upheaval and transfer of half the Shirogane agency from Tokyo to Yasoinaba. Save the odd local case, she’d effectively been forced to hang up the detective cap until life calmed down enough for her to return.

It was… a much-needed break. They could mutually agree on that.

Then, less than a month between moving into a house and the agency reopening, Yu Narukami had appeared on their doorstep one evening with ‘encouragement bentos’ and a request. The middle school he worked in as guidance counsellor had suddenly lost a teacher temporarily due to illness. The art teacher. She’d probably need at least six months to recover, but the new semester started in September and it was far too tight a deadline for the board to submit a request for a replacement.

“I mentioned you used to work as an art teacher in Tokyo, Kanji, and they said to ask you as soon as possible.”

Neither of them could have foreseen such a thing… But in a week, their situation had changed from both of them being at home, to both of them returning to work just a day apart from one another.

One day.

What a rare commodity that was.

As much as she adored it, Naoto’s career had always been taxing, keeping her late at night and seldom offering her a chance to catch her breath. After all, the Shirogane agency was lauded all across the country. Grampa had made such a name for it before he had died, and the attention she had gained from the media as the ‘first Detective Prince’ had only served to bolster the Shirogane name’s shining reputation once she’d taken over. That, and the fact that it was the only remaining detective agency in the country that specialised in Shadow-related incidents. They’d become ever more prevalent since the mental shutdowns and the Phantom Thieves incidents a decade ago had made knowledge of them more widespread in the seedier depths of society, and the Shadow Operatives had ensured to keep her busy when the cases grew too complex for them to handle.

That’s why they’d come back to Inaba of all places. With the TV World still very much active, it was the most potent place for illicit Shadow activities to occur in all Japan. And with the murmurings of new information cropping up, the higher ups had figured it may be a good idea to have a team of investigators to hand.

The detective had a lot of work waiting for her when her leave expired.

So, for her to be the one left with the house instead of Kanji for a full day… Well, she couldn’t exactly waste such an occasion.

“Momo, no -!  Don’t… climb in there…” Naoto sighed, watching as her orange tabby clambered her way into one of the cardboard boxes at the far end of the room. She knew it was a fruitless effort to try and stop her. Their other cat didn’t house much love for boxes, but Mochi had been found in one as a kitten and clearly had developed a natural affinity towards them as a result. Half their move had been spent trying to keep her out of them long enough to fill them.

“If you wish to help, the very least you could do would be to climb into the ones I haven’t yet searched,” she told her, crossing over to the box and hoisting Mochi out. “That way, I won’t be wasting any time by delving into boxes twice when I retrieve you.”

Unfortunately, Naoto’s request was not met with much approval. The cat just mewled indignantly, clearly unimpressed and unwilling to cooperate, and scampered behind the large pile in the centre of the garage, leaving the detective to continue her investigation on her own.

It was frankly impressive that all the miscellany crammed into these boxes had fit into their Tokyo apartment; big though it was, it had been severely lacking in storage. Half their belongings – all the stuff they didn’t desperately need - were all packed up in this room, waiting for a spare moment to be put in their rightful place. They’d had five weeks to unpack, and perhaps if they’d still been living as just the two of them, they’d have made more of a dent in it. That would certainly have made Naoto’s current task a considerable deal easier. But all the free time they had now was devoted to Chihiro. She was only just coming up on her first birthday, and she was still very much dependant on her parents every moment that she was awake. Even now, Naoto was only able to search the room because the infant was taking her midmorning nap.

She was looking for a binder Kanji had put together, containing a collection of their favourite recipes that he’d found online or written down over the years. Somehow, it had gotten separated from the recipe books when they had packed away their kitchen, and it had not yet resurfaced. This was a major blockade in her plan for the day. She needed that binder. Desperately.

Kanji had seemed rather perturbed as he’d prepared for work that morning. In fact, he’d seemed uneasy about it from the moment Yu had asked him to take it. It was… unlike him. He’d worked as an art teacher in a middle school back in the city for four years, and he’d loved every minute of it.

“Hmm? Course I want the job,” he’d told her when she’d questioned him about it over breakfast. “I miss this kinda shit, you know that.”

He had a smile on his face as he tried spooning a blob of mushed fruits into Chihiro’s mouth, but it was a strained smile if nothing else.

“You just seem tense, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well… So do you. Goin’ back to work after havin’ a kid is s’posed to be kinda rough.” He shrugged.

“I can’t deny that…” Naoto sighed. “Even knowing that your mother will be there for her, and that you’re only doing part time hours, the idea of leaving her alone at all is more taxing on me than I could ever have expected… That’s all it is though?”

Naoto could think of several other reasons Kanji might have to be nervous about this particular job. But on the off chance that they hadn’t crossed his mind yet, she refrained from bringing them up. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel worse.

There was a pause, filled only by Chihiro’s babbles and the sound of the cats zooming about the living room after one another in a burst of energy. As he scraped the last of the baby food from the pot and offered it to their daughter, Kanji’s face began to fall ever so slightly, and before long he was sighing.

“I really gotta… stop overlookin’ that I’m married to a detective.  I am scared shitless of leavin’ Chihiro for the first time. If anythin’s wrong, it’s that most of all. But uh… Otherwise I’m just a little weirded out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Middle school – this middle school – is kinda… where I started to get a bad rep… What… I dunno, what if they take one look at me and realise who I am and kick me out? Like, they don’t realise ‘Shirogane Kanji’ is actually ‘Tatsumi Kanji’ an’ once they do they won’t want me anymore? They don’t know why I resigned from my last job either, what if they think I did something bad an’–”

As his voice grew louder and more sporadic, his panic becoming so apparent that it was palpable, Naoto scooted her way over to him and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her head gently on his chest.

“You left on your own terms because you disliked the way the school was being run. You don’t have to disclose why. And Kan-chan… you don’t mean to tell me that I’ve kept you from your hometown for so long that you’ve forgotten what it’s like? Inaba isn’t overly massive – rumours spread fast. I daresay there isn’t a person here who doesn’t know that the Tatsumi boy married that Detective Shirogane person. Especially not with how much your mother talks about us.”

She held him close for a while, rubbing her hand across his back even after his heart stopped pounding so hard, and his muscles began to relax.

“Yeah… I know… I know it’s a stupid thing to worry about, an’ that there ain’t no point in getting’ worked up about it…”

“Well, it’s not… stupid. I’d say it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to be concerned about, given the impact it had on you in the past. But I can assure you of this: they wouldn’t have hired you if they thought you were unfit for the position.”

He nodded, and a smile appeared on his face again – a genuine one, this time. For the rest of the morning, his dour disposition had dissipated somewhat, and his spirits certainly seemed higher when he had left the house.

But even if she had managed to cheer him up, Naoto knew the day would be a challenge for him no matter how many positive sentiments she sent his way. Returning to a place you had been mistreated, even after nearly twenty years had passed, was difficult enough as it was, without the thought of leaving your baby for the first time nagging at you as well.

That’s why she needed that binder. It contained the recipe for one of Kanji’s all-time favourite curries, one she believed even she could produce, and she figured he might need something like that when he returned home.

He often did little ‘date nights’ from home for them, for birthdays or anniversaries, or even just when Naoto was struggling with a tough case and needed a distraction or treat. They would put on whatever was comfortable, sit down with a meal and a drink, and more often than not, end up in a snuggled-up heap on the couch with a movie flickering on in the background. She hosted her fair share of them as well, but admittedly hers often involved an expensive night out at a restaurant. Kanji was the better cook, and he considered it a hobby more than simply something one needed to do to survive, but Naoto lacked the skill or drive to make a hand-crafted date night even without her long hours.

But this night would be an exception. She suddenly found herself with eight hours at home without him, and she would be a fool not to use that time to surprise him in the same way he always would with her. She’d throw him a date night so damn enjoyable that he’d forget all about his anxieties, no matter the cost.

That was… if she could find the damned recipe she needed to carry out her plan.

And so, she perused box after box in her investigation, leaving not even one overlooked. Old case files she’d had sent over from the Shirogane estate that had once belonged to her grandfather. An assortment of holiday decorations that really needed separating by date. Kanji’s miscellaneous box of scrap material. A box marked for charity of Naoto’s old clothes that had stopped fitting since she’d had Chihiro. Plushies. More plushies. Even the container of extra crockery, things that had come from the kitchen itself, bore no sign of the item she sought. An hour passed as though it were seconds, yielding nothing of value.

Had Kanji already moved it? It wasn’t as though she could ask him… Had they forgotten it? No, that apartment was spotless when they’d moved out. She’d triple checked it herself.

She foresaw herself spending all day searching at this rate… but she didn’t have all day. He’d be staying late for a debriefing, but even so, Kanji would still probably be home for five o’clock, and she still had to go to Junes to fetch the ingredients she was going to need.

Perhaps she could look it up online again? That was where Kanji had found it originally…

She sat herself, cross legged, on an old rug and pulled out her phone, plugging in the name of the recipe into a search engine, lifting her arm so that Mochi – tired of hiding – could come and curl up in her lap. And then, running the fingers of her free hand through Mochi’s fur, she began to scroll and click every site she could find.

But she recalled vividly the constitution of the page she was searching for, and none of these were it. She’d never read the words herself – having never made the recipe – and Kanji had decided to crop the name of the site it was from to maintain the ‘aesthetic’ of the folder, but she knew what it looked like. The colours, the typeface, the accompanying picture.

Nothing.

It was entirely possible the site had been redesigned or deleted. In which case she was out of luck online… It wouldn’t work for her to try a different recipe, it had to be that one. If it wasn’t that one, it wouldn’t taste the same, and then it wouldn’t be his favourite. Irritation began to swell within her as her endeavour began to look more fruitless, and she had to take a few moments to breathe and calm a little before moving onto her last resort: checking with Mrs. Tatsumi, with Yakushiji, and the Investigation Team on the off chance that maybe Kanji had lent them the recipe at some point.

Nos all around.

The irritation grew stronger.

And then, as though a timer had gone off signifying the end of her allotted time, the baby monitor sprung to life.

***

“Are… You even listening?”

Naoto huffed and folded her arms, wearing her most devastating expression of disappointment as she shook her head. She’d been talking for a good ten minutes, and she was beginning to wonder if any of it had been heard at all.

“’Course we are. You want to do something cute and romantic for the big guy, because you’re secretly a massive softie, but your first idea went bust.”

Yosuke offered her a cheeky wink and raised his soda cup in a mock toast, before turning back to fawn over Chihiro in Chie’s arms.

“But I dunno how you expect us to concentrate on anything else when you’ve brought this adorable little muffin along,” Chie added, putting on a baby voice and ‘booping’ said muffin on the nose. Chihiro giggled, her tiny face absolutely beaming with delight.

“Oh, I expect you to manage perfectly. If I can – if Kanji can – despite seeing every cute thing she ever does, then it should be no problem for somebody only exposed to it for a short while.”

A couple of hours had passed since Naoto had given up her search for the original recipe and had elected to change tactic. She would simply have to find… a different meal entirely. One that would still mean as much to Kanji. But a quick scour of the recipe books they had on hand in the kitchen yielded nothing.  And so, once Chihiro was fed and dressed appropriately for the late summer warmth, she walked her over to Junes to grab some supplies, hoping that by some pure miracle, looking at the ingredients on offer would spark some form of inspiration within her. Only, out of sheer coincidence, she had managed to time her visit perfectly with the end of Yosuke’s shift, and Chie’s day off.

The two of them could often be found talking in the food court on their off-hours. It had been that way since high school, through all the changes and remodels they’d made to the layout of the store over the years and would likely continue to be that way as long as Junes stood and they remained in Inaba. It was the secret headquarters of the Investigation Team, after all. It wasn’t a place you could so easily give up.

So, guided by tradition, they all sat together, sharing a Takoyaki selection in the summer breeze – a welcome change from the mustiness of the Shirogane residence garage – Yosuke and Chie completely spellbound by the baby while Naoto explained her predicament. She had hoped they’d be a little more attentive, and frankly more helpful, but… she supposed she couldn’t fault them. Chihiro was effectively their niece, and she’d been in Tokyo for the past year.

But at least they were making her happy. Seeing her so ecstatic, despite Kanji being gone for so long, certainly helped ease some of the anxieties she had been feeling about leaving her. Getting her acquainted properly with the people who would likely be babysitting her until well into her teens was certainly not a bad thing… although… Naoto was on a tight schedule.

“Aaanyway.” She rapped the table lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Regretfully my first idea – the one that was ah… ‘bust’, as you said – was also my only idea. I’m currently running at a loss on where to proceed from here…”

At the very least they were nodding along now, and looking at her as she spoke.

“…Chie-chan, do you have date nights? What do you usually do?”

“Hmm? Yeah, of course we do! But, uh… Yukiko and I always go out for ‘em. You know, because the inn keeps her so busy and I –”

“Can’t cook anything without it coming out tasting of cardboard?” Yosuke supplied, grinning. Chie shot him a mean look, but nodded nonetheless.

“Pretty much…”

“In most instances, that would be my go-to as well,” Naoto said, holding back a grin at Yosuke’s comment. “Hand-crafted anything is Kanji’s forte, not mine, but… we both agree the ones at home are more enjoyable, no matter how good the food may be in a restaurant.”

“You’re like… the most private people I’ve ever known, so that isn’t surprising.”

She gave an affirming nod. Lovely as it was to go all out sometimes at an expensive eatery, there were always… stares. No matter where they were, people would see them and notice. Sometimes they’d simply recognise the Detective Prince, and that was all they’d see. But other times their eyes would linger longer. They’d take note of Kanji’s piercings and spikes combined with the cute animals and soft colours, analyse Naoto’s dedication to old English fashion and deliberate lack of conformity to any gender, and then keep their gazes trained on the two of them as they attempted to pick apart every contrasting aspect. The way they looked and dressed alone, the way they looked and dressed together… it made going out in public difficult for two people who both struggled to some degree with social anxieties and a history of being scrutinised for the way they were.

Kanji had left the house worrying he was going to be judged. She didn’t want to put him through that twice in one day.

“Well, is there anything else you’ve made before that you know he likes?” Yosuke asked, helping himself to the Takoyaki  

Naoto frowned. “Well, yes, but all of it is rather… typical? I have a small repertoire, you see.”

“So you want something different? Hmm… Why don’t you just go ham?” Chie suggested with a genuine smile. “Grab stuff you think’ll go together and make a totally new curry. Heck, doesn’t even gotta be curry.”

“That’s how you end up with Mystery Food X: Redux,” Yosuke warned, and Chie’s smile instantly vanished. “Though actually, Naoto… In your sensible hands you’d probably be okay. You actually know how to cook.”

“If I wasn’t holding a baby right now, I would kick you.”

“Without a recipe at all…?” For a moment, the detective was left perplexed. But before long, a thought came across her mind, and that irritation from earlier came grumbling back into her periphery. “Yosuke-kun. Please. I simply don’t have the time to spare for your… japes and mockery. I need you to be serious.”

She expected him to laugh, as he often would when she caught him out while he was joking. She didn’t do so very often, loathe as she was to admit it, and it had become something of a game to Yosuke to see how long he could keep pushing her buttons.

But this time he threw up his hands instead, with… was that his face now contorted in confusion as well?

“H-hey, I am being serious. Promise. If you genuinely have no other ideas, then I begrudgingly accept that Chie might be onto something.”

“And I’m supposed to do that without instructions?” She asked incredulously, raising her eyebrows. Was she being foolish and naïve? Or was Yosuke the one reeking of inexperience? “You act as though you believe I have time to memorise every food combination, and how to make them work. I am a detective, not a chef, Yosuke-kun. Recipes exist so that I don’t have to preoccupy my brain with trivialities such as cooking from memory.”

“Hey, it was Chie’s idea, not mine!”

“You should know better.”

The raised voices and snipes were a staple of any conversation involving Yosuke and Chie, and at this point Naoto had come to learn that it was largely performative. They ‘fought’ with warm regards. She’d even reached a point where she was able to go along with it without utterly deflating the mood. But to Chihiro, with no grasp of the concept of banter, it was all just loud, frightening noises coming from people she didn’t know all too well. The conversation very quickly had to switch courses when a crying spell threatened to rear its head.

“You know… you never asked me what I do for date nights,” Yosuke pointed out once the baby had been settled. She now lay propped up on Naoto’s lap, nodding off with her little head resting on her chest. Naoto constantly considered herself fortunate that Chihiro wasn’t especially fussy. Sometimes on a good day all she needed to calm right down was a cuddle.

“Hmm?” she looked up. If Yosuke had said anything before that, she had been too preoccupied with gently coaxing her daughter to nap to hear it. “Oh, no, I suppose I didn’t…”

Chie, who had moved into the more comfortable position of resting her chin on her hand now her arms were free, scoffed slightly.

“Dude. Maybe because you don’t have anybody to date?”

“Well… No, but I’ve been on dates. More than one with the same person. I have experience, I’m just… not experiencing it right now.” He rubbed the back of his neck, casting his gaze off to the side. “Dinner dates aren’t really my thing though…”

“So, why’d you even bring it up?”

“Hey! I’ve been on… like, one dinner date. I’m just not the guru of them!” He shrugged. “It’s an interesting story actually… I got set up a few years ago by my bandmates, and it turns out the guy isn’t my type at all. But I didn’t want to say no without at least giving him a chance, so… Y’know. He wants to go out to this fancy French place, but we get there and they’re closing early because of… Uh, I think the kitchen flooded or something like that? So, he takes me back to his place and leaves me there, runs off to go shopping, and comes back and cooks a three-course French meal himself.”

“And you didn’t marry him on the spot?”

“Nah. We did a couple more dates but it didn’t really work out. We weren’t super compatible...”

“Is this why you get Rise to vet anybody you’re gonna date now?”

“Pretty much. You guys know me best, so…”

The two of them continued to talk, but from Naoto’s perspective, their voices had been drowned by her thoughts into a dull and distant murmur. From the moment Yosuke had finished his story, the gears in her brain had whirred into motion, working their way into fabricating a plan formed from his words.

It had hit her at last. A wave of inspiration and relief, tantamount to the feeling she would have when she’d finally cracked the secret to a particularly arduous case.

A plan. Followed by a conjured image of how Kanji’s face might look when he saw it.

“Yosuke-kun…” she began, standing slowly so that she did not wake the baby and gently lowering her into the buggy she had parked next to her seat. “Would you be able to look something up for me? While my hands are full.”

***

January 19th, 2025. Little over a year and a half ago. London, England. They’d been abroad for a few weeks at that point, Naoto on a case for the Shadow Operatives, and Kanji taking advantage of her hotel room to table at an artist’s alley in a convention.

It was something of a special occasion. Kanji’s 29th birthday had been the original cause for celebration, but to him at least that was very much an aside. It was, what, only three hours prior to reaching the restaurant that they’d found out Naoto was pregnant.

There had been several sources for the reasoning behind Naoto’s choice in establishment, and unlike most of her destination picks while they’d been in London, none of them had a single thing to do with Sherlock Holmes. The ones that stood out the most: a churning in her stomach – simultaneously a mental and a physical reaction to her current condition – and a particularly mournful image of her mother-in-law from a few months prior.

“There was this little place my late husband and I would always take Kanji when he was young, if we had to travel to Okina. Italian, it was, family run. I just heard from a customer that it was recently shut down because the owner passed. It has me a little down to think of, that’s all Naoto dear.”

A precious memory from Kanji’s childhood was no small matter, harrowing as such a thing was to think. And Italian… parsing through her options in her mind as she browsed the local restaurants on one of those food apps, Naoto took note of how the one being advertised made her insides turn the least at the thoughts of it. It was one of those smaller, more community-based places, while the others were either going to be full of too-rich smells for her poor stomach to handle, or full of classy, antiquated rules and stares that she didn’t feel up to taking that day.

She didn’t want to make her husband eat hotel food on his birthday… And nor did she want to worry him all evening by being exceptionally edgy. So it didn’t take very long at all for her to have dialled the number for the family-run Italian place, and had booked them a table for two that evening.

The food had been… good. Standard fare for that kind of place. But Naoto was a harsh critic – even without feeling deeply unwell, she had been to Italy. And yet, in all the fifteen years she had known Kanji, she could not recall a single meal out where he seemed to have enjoyed himself quite as much as that. The rush of euphoria from learning he was going to be a father had apparently been enough to turn any experience he may have had that night into the best date night of his life. And Naoto knew the kind of man he was. Sentimental, perceptive, prone to dwelling on the little things. He’d remember, starkly, what he had eaten then.

It was just a pasta meal. She recalled it being made with chicken and a creamy, pesto-based sauce, and Yosuke’s internet search had quickly pulled up a recipe for something along those lines. It wouldn’t be the same – these places kept their recipes close to the heart – but that didn’t matter. Her plan had now become a case of finding something symbolic, over finding something that tasted good.

“I think he’s really starting to rub off on you,” Yosuke had noted as Naoto had prepared to rush off to grab the ingredients from the recipe he had found. “Kanji, I mean. In a good way.”

She’d queried him on that. Her own sharpness didn’t exactly extend to analysing herself.

“I just meant that five years ago, I don’t think you’d ever have thought to do something like this. I always took you for the… less cliché of the two of you. Didn’t you propose to him spontaneously in a cat café? If you don’t mind me asking… why is this the first thing you thought to do for him?”

A pause for Naoto to collect her thoughts. One that, much to everyone’s surprise, didn’t last nearly as long as it might have.

“It’s… because this is logical to me. A dinner date – it’s the simplest, most common activity in the books. It’s a cliché because its effective. Because food is one of those love languages that transcends barriers, and to somebody who struggles in most social situations, like Kanji, like me, you must understand that something like this is a life saver. It’s a change to our routine that really doesn’t change all that much.” She smiled to herself. “Kanji does this to make me feel happy. So many people do, for the person they love. It only makes sense to me that I follow their lead.”

It was that way for most matters of the heart, she thought to herself as she balanced a packet of chicken on the hood of the buggy. She had never known how to act in these situations, how to express the feelings she had. And while she’d devised some unique little ways that she had managed to convey to Kanji, oftentimes the most effective means of telling him that she loved him was to simply use another person’s idea as a foundation. She had her own experiences as proof that it worked. After all, Kanji was a person who had been so starved for and scared of affection as a child that now, almost anything that said ‘I care about you’ was enough to draw him to tears. And Naoto was no different. He was more physical than her, and really that was the only major way in which their feelings towards romance diverged. The things that made one of them happy was sure to leave the other in the same state.

***

Naoto loved Kanji more than she hated cooking. That was really the defining fact that made this entire plan of hers possible at all.

Because she really hated cooking.

“I’ll prolly be home in like… forty minutes,” Kanji had told her over the phone when she’d given him a tentative call at just gone four to gauge how long she had. Pasta wasn’t exactly something she could make well in advance – just the thought of reheating it or overcooking it made her skin crawl. It was one of those things she needed to be perfect. Kanji, thankfully, didn’t have a preference.

So, she’d had to leave making the actual meal until as close to Kanji’s arrival as she could predict. But it wasn’t as though she had time to spare… She had to make the table, feed the cats, feed the baby, put the baby down for a nap…  

Then she had to cook the chicken and the pasta… that was fine, it just… radiated a lot of heat for a day that was already rather warm. Inaba’s houses were old, and they didn’t yet have much ventilation or air conditioning.

Then was the sauce, and she had to do some vegetables, but she had to keep stirring the sauce so it didn’t ruin the consistency, and she had to keep turning the meat and the veggies so they wouldn’t burn, and oh, the pasta might stick or become overdone if she wasn’t careful. Then it would just become stressful. Every meal, every time. No matter how methodical she tried to be, it would always devolve into this.

It was a focus thing, she was sure. When she homed in on a task or a detail, it became quite difficult to switch gears on the fly. A useful skill for analysing a murder case. Not so much for cooking.

It was why, when they were both at home, she and Kanji would often just cook dinner together.

But occasionally, and for the sake of somebody she cared about, it was worth it.

She was just at the stage where she was plating up the food, trying to get it to look as it did in the picture on the website, when the familiar sight of an old, dusty car that had at one point been purple staggered its way up their driveway, starkly contrasted with the shiny motorcycle it had pulled up next to. As Kanji climbed from the car, Naoto carefully studied his face, trying to glean from his expression how exactly he was feeling in that moment. But Kanji had a naturally angry look to him, so such a task was often difficult to undertake.

“You makin’ garlic bread, Nao?” he called from the porch almost as soon as the door had slid shut.

“You’ll see,” was all she said in response. With Kanji just moments away from seeing what she had done, she found herself buzzing with anticipation.

“Wuzzat s’posed to mean?” he asked, sticking his head around the door into the kitchen.

For a moment, his forehead crinkled as he took everything in, his eyes lingering on the table made up as closely to that of a restaurant as Naoto could manage, with cloth, candles, and an arrangement of Kanji’s favourite red roses (albeit that was rather haphazardly done).

And in that moment Naoto felt as though her heart had somehow managed to stall.

But the tension was brief, quickly dissipated by the biggest, goofiest grin taking up a huge portion of Kanji’s face.

He strode into the room and pulled his partner into a powerful hug all in a motion that was so fluid, you wouldn’t think it was Kanji performing it.

“I can see you’re ready to reopen the agency, huh?”

Naoto smiled and shook her head, before snuggling her cheek into Kanji’s chest. “Don’t mistake this for a fit of boredom – I’ve been anything but. Welcome to our first date night back in Inaba.”

“Huh? W-wait, hold up… Date night? You did this… fer me?”

His eyes threatened to grow wider than his smile had those few moments earlier, as the realisation of the circumstances slowly began to dawn on him.

Then, as was customary for Kanji whenever Naoto would do anything for him ever, his face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet, and he began stammering unintelligible gibberish.

“Quickly now, before it cools down!”

“Y…Yuh…”

This was… odd. Kanji seemed unequivocally, unprecedentedly broken. His movements as he crossed to the counter and grabbed his plate, were mechanical, shaken, even. They weren’t unheard of for him, but it was as though they had suddenly been transported fifteen years into the past once more. Before they had fallen in love, before they’d even been close friends, when Kanji was so overcome with embarrassment whenever they spoke that he would be unable to function.

Now they were married, it wasn’t exactly commonplace.

Had something happened to him at work which had left him overwhelmed?

“Kanji?” Naoto called out tentatively as they took their seats.

“…huh?”

“You seem… Rather out of it.”

He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. “Right. Yeah… Sorry…”

He cleared his throat and repeated the process of shaking his head.

“It’s just, uh… ‘M kinda at a loss for words. This is… Wow.”

A tension she hadn’t recognised until it was gone suddenly flooded from her body with a sigh of relief.

“For a moment there I was concerned that something was wrong, so –”

“More like… everythin’ is right. I never pegged you fer someone who’d do date nights Tatsumi style.”

“…Tatsumi style? So this…” she waved an arm across the table. “This is something you observed… what, from your parents?”

He nodded. Naoto didn’t realise it was possible for him to turn redder until just then.

“Ain’t really a lotta options for fancy restaurants like what you do out here. Ma and my old man always improvised at home. I know cookin’ yer partner a meal ain’t somethin’ my folks made up, they just ended up callin’ it that… Nickname kinda stuck.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Well, I suppose I have rather adopted a Tatsumi way of behaving today. Our roles have been utterly reversed. Why, I daresay after dinner, I shall take up a crochet project, and you’ll lull our Chihiro to sleep by reading her more of ‘A Study in Scarlet’.”

“I love you, Naoto.”

“Eh?”

But instead of elaborating, Kanji simply left his partner to turn an equally furious shade of red while he took a bite of the food. Naoto found herself so flustered that she didn’t even have time to be nervous about him trying the dish.

But, she supposed, she didn’t really have anything to worry about. This was Kanji.

“…I better never hear the words ‘I’m not very good at cooking’ comin’ from yer mouth again.”

“Well… Regardless of the quality of the food –” she began, about to launch into a spiel about how the mess she made, and how stressful it was for her, suggested that she technically wasn’t exactly on the level of a master. But all it took from Kanji was a single glare, and she stopped herself.

This was supposed to be a pleasant evening. And he did hate when she was self-deprecating in any capacity.

“I’m glad you like it Kan-chan.” She smiled, taking her own first bite. Hmm. Not bad. She wasn’t sure how this was supposed to taste – she’d been feeling far too unwell that night in London to eat much at all, so she’d ordered a lighter dish – but how it did taste was pleasant.

“Better than it was on my birthday that one time. Dunno if you remember, but at that one Italian place when we were in England –”

“Where do you suppose I gained the inspiration to make this particular meal?”

“Huh? Well shit, haha. Last time I ever doubt yer memory.”

“Hm, well… I don’t think I’m capable of forgetting that day…”

Kanji slid his free hand across the table and placed it atop hers, rubbing his thumb soothingly over her knuckles. Strange, she noted, that the nail was still painted black; she was sure the school would make him take the colour off alongside his piercings.

A nagging feeling in her chest, her stomach, her mind was begging her to ask him how it had gone. But it was not the only train of thought on the feeling that she had. What if Kanji didn’t want to talk about it yet? What if it was best to simply… enjoy the meal in ignorant bliss? Was he waiting for the right time, or for her to say something?

He looked as though he were about to speak now, was that the subject he was going to bring up?

“How has Chihiro been today?”

No. Of course not. The subject of work would have to wait.

As with… most of their conversations over the past year, the rest of the meal was largely dominated with Chihiro. Naoto describing, in detail, exactly what she had done, and Kanji’s expression growing fonder and fonder with every word. By the time they were done eating, he looked as though he were going to cry.

“Kinda sad that this is our lives goin’ forwards…”

“Hm?”

“Nothin’… just been missin’ her at work is all.”

The nagging feeling was very quickly becoming anxiety. The first mention of his day all evening, and it was something negative.

“Kanji, was everything –”

A sound suddenly stole her words before she had the chance to finish. A baby crying, as audible through the walls as it was the baby monitor on the counter.

“Prolly needs changing, huh?” Kanji smiled, rising to his feet. “Mind if I take this?”

“Please… She probably misses you too.”

In the time that Kanji was attending to the baby, Naoto managed to load everything that needed cleaning into the dishwasher, and found her way to the living room, and then to the couch. But her mind wasn’t exactly responsive as she did so.

Kanji… was worse than she had anticipated… More than just a simple meal could possibly hope to fix. Why on earth… What delusion had she been under to think, with how he’d been these past few days, that a little romantic gesture would be all he needed to feel better.

Amidst the haze that was buzzing in her mind, she vaguely registered her hands clenching into fists.

At some point, goodness knew when, Kanji had reappeared in the room and had sat down next to her, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“She’s back down. Heh… Wanted to play as soon as she saw me, the little tyke, but could barely keep her eyes open long enough to do it.”

“She’s had… a busy day.”

“Ain’t we all?” he said with an air of exhaustion about him, placing his glasses gently on the kotatsu in front of them and then sinking back into the couch. “You ready for tomorrow?”

“I’ve been ready for weeks. Waiting on other people…” Naoto mumbled in response. Her gaze had fallen as she’d spoken to her socks, and she could not bring herself to remove it until Kanji nudged her with his arm.

“Hey. You good, Nao?”

“…Are you?”

That brought the conversation to a standstill.

“Would ya believe me if I told ya I was jus’ tired?”

“Only… partially.”

He gave her a half smile and repositioned himself so that his head lay on her shoulder.

“It was… a pretty exhaustin’ day… Lotta new stuff. Lotta old stuff too… that school ain’t changed in twenty years. Amazing it’s managed so long.”

Naoto just made an affirming noise and let her hand come to rest on his shoulder, pressing her cheek onto the top of his head. Best just to let him speak, she thought.

“Ain’t none of the people I knew still there but… they knew who I was. Course they did… didn’t expect any different. An’ you know what?”

“Hm?”

“Most of ‘em just complimented me on the plushies. They knew me ‘cause of the shop, not… ‘cause of the delinquent shit.”

“Well, that’s… good, is it not? That’s what we hoped would happen.”

She felt him shift his head as though he were trying to nod. His arm had worked its way around her waist, and she felt him bunching up the fabric of her dress shirt in his fingers as he spoke. It was an unconscious habit of his. Most notable when he was nervous.

“Yeah… Never said it weren’t good. Jus’ that I was tired. And that I missed my kid. And you.”

Naoto drew a deep breath. “It seemed like something was wrong, that’s all. I’ve been worried about you. All day. All week.”

“…That why you’re not okay?”

“Yes! Effectively!”

Another brief standstill.

“Sorry ‘bout that… Really… Last thing I wanted was for my bullshit worrying over nothing to affect you too.”

Naoto squeezed his shoulder slightly.

“You should know by now that such a thing is impossible. The same can be said of you, to me. We’ve been in this partnership since we were in high-school, Kan-chan, we can’t simply… hide our true feelings any longer. We know each other too well to be caught out.”

“Yeah… s’pose you’re right… I did appreciate it though. Back before I went in today and realised my worries were a load ‘a crap. I… I dunno, I guess comin’ back to Inaba after so long had me thinkin’ that everythin’ was gonna go back to the way it was.”

“Kanji… You weren’t… Please don’t tell me you’ve been thinking that way since we first planned to come.”

Silence. Naoto’s heart dropped. Obviously, that meant she was right on the mark.

Good lord, she had still been expecting when they’d first discussed moving back! Their daughter was one in a week!

“’s in the past now though. All of it,” he said eventually. “Physically this place ain’t no different, but I guess the vibe has changed since we were kids. Maybe… Enough time has passed now that I ain’t gotta worry about… the guy I was.”

“Kanji… I rescind what I said earlier. About how it’s impossible to hide our feelings from each other. Please… when it’s something serious like this, I implore you to tell me.”

Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. If she did, he’d try to make this about her, and dammit, she was tired of it being about her. The entire point of everything she had done that day was to make it about Kanji for once in his life.

“…’M sorry, Nao…”

After that, for a long while neither of them spoke. They simply adjusted themselves into a position where they could more easily cuddle and sat there, snuggled into each other as the dwindling oranges and purples of the twilight sky gave way to darkness.

Kanji was the one to break the silence, his voice so slick with sleepiness that it was demure in a way which was much unlike him.

“Hey Nao… Yer still awake, right?”

“Mmhmm…” she responded. It was… mostly true.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’. I got a new goal now we’re back here… I wanna be able to look that bastard in the eye and tell him he ain’t me. Not because I’m denyin’ anythin’, but because he ain’t.”

“Him? Your Shadow?”

“Yeah. Like you can, y’know? If your Shadow popped their head back up and started sayin’ the same shit as before, you could just tell ‘em: ‘you’re wrong.’ ‘Cause they would be.”

“But they wouldn’t say something like that. My age and gender no longer cause me grief to the level they had in my youth, so my Shadow wouldn’t bring them up.”

Of course, they wouldn’t. Naoto thought that was obvious. She was thirty-one, very much an adult, and any doubt she had about whether she was a man or a woman were significantly eased when she had learned that she could be both and neither. She had no lack of confidence in those aspects of herself, regardless now of what other people thought, so there was no way the Shadow could use them as ammunition if they were to reappear.

But based on Kanji’s next statement, suddenly full of more vigour than his words prior, she wondered if perhaps she had misunderstood where he was coming from.

“Yeah, but that’s what I’m saying! The stuff your Shadow said back then… It ain’t even crossin’ your mind anymore. I wanna be the same… I mean… It’s not that I ain’t happy with who I am. I like cute shit, and sewing, and all the stuff like that. Shit, I’m bi as hell. I can say that stuff proudly. It’s…” he huffed. “For some reason, it’s like I can be confident in myself all I want, but in my head it don’t mean shit unless everyone else feels the same way. An' as long as I got a history as 'the guy who beats up bikers', it's like that day ain't gonna come... I’m… still scared shitless of bein’ rejected after all these years... It’s like… every time I meet a new group of people, I just end up wonderin’ how long its gonna be before they brand me a thug and cut me and everyone I care about off. Think that’s kinda the reason it’s been weighin’ on me again so much more recently. I start comin’ up with scenarios in my head where it gets outta hand and Chihiro gets hurt ‘cause of it.”

As he spoke, his hug became tighter.

“Kan-chan…”

“So, my goal is to get to a place where I don’t constantly worry about that stuff. Where if that bastard showed up again and said that kinda shit, I could deny him with my whole heart and know for certain that I’m right an’ he’s wrong. An’ before you say shit, I know that ain’t how Shadows work. That’s jus’ the image I use in my head to try an’ visualise what I’m itchin’ to do.”

He added that last part with a hint of a laugh to his tone.

So that was why he took a job he was so caught up about? As some concrete way of proving to himself that he would be okay if he did?

A self-destructive means of gathering evidence for a hypothesis… hm… perhaps Naoto’s inheritance of Kanji’s traits over the years had gone the other way as well.

“I didn’t realise it was possible to be so unbelievably proud of somebody, while simultaneously thinking them a fool…” Naoto ensured to keep her own tone bright, so that he would know she spoke in endearing terms. “You know I would have supported you through this if only you had told me –”

“Hah. Yer actin’ like you take me for the kinda guy who thinks this shit through… this ain’t exactly something I’ve been plannin’ or nothin’, it just sorta… came to me now.”

Oh, so it was a subconscious instinct?

Then perhaps he would be safe from her bad influence for just a little while longer…

“Well… regardless of how much preparation has gone into it… it is a good goal to have in mind, so long as you’re comfortable with the pain it may bring in the process.”

“Yeah. No problem. Anyway…” he sat up and looked her in the eyes. “What was that you were implyin’ with the whole ‘you know I would have supported you’ bull you just said?”

Naoto frowned. “It’s the truth –”

“Yeah, I know it’s the truth. Because you have been supportin’ me, dumbass. You ain’t ever stopped.” He thrust his arm in the vague, general direction of the kitchen, a wild delight dancing in his eyes. “You spent the last day of yer maternity leave makin’ sure I’d have a good evenin’ because you thought I needed cheerin’ up.”

Naoto felt her cheeks heat up. “I… I only did what you would do for me…”

“Yeah, but it ain’t like I made you do it. You still made the decision. It’s amazin’, an yer incredible, and adorable, an’ you make a freakin’ awesome pasta, an’ I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

She knew she was blushing harder and harder with every word, to the point where all she could think to do was bury her face into his shoulder.

“Feel kinda bad that we kinda got side-tracked from the ‘date night’ though… Sorry if you had anything else planned.”

“No, no, don’t feel bad. I did this because I thought you needed it, Kanji. And I don’t suppose I’m wrong in suggesting that you very much needed this talk as well?”

“…You ain’t wrong… Not at all.”

“And do you feel any better for having it?”

“Mmhmm.”

Naoto lifted her head and gave him her warmest smile. “Then I can safely declare this date night a resounding success.”

“Damn right, you can! But uh… I don’t wanna take away from anythin’ else you mighta wanted to do, so –”

The heat in her cheeks returned as quickly as it had vanished, and she sheepishly averted his gaze. Right. Date night was usually more than a meal.

“Uhm... About that. Kanji, I’ll be perfectly honest with you, I… I was so caught up in trying to find a recipe for dinner that it never even occurred to me to look for a movie or something to do afterwards.”

She offered him an apologetic look, but his immediate response was only to laugh and hold her closer.

“Don’t think I coulda made it through a movie anyway… I’m beat…”

“As am I. I think I may drift off here…”

It quickly became apparent that each of their ideal end to the evening would be to turn in early and hope to gain a restful night – something that was near impossible with a small child. Whether such a thing was an indication of how eventful their day had been, or whether it was simply a sign of them getting older, neither really cared to consider. Instead, they just ensured the house was secure, called the cats to follow them, and moved upstairs as quietly as they could so that their footsteps wouldn’t cause Chihiro to stir.

It wasn’t until Naoto had switched her outfit for one of Kanji’s old shirts and was brushing her teeth in the upstairs bathroom that it dawned on her: there was still one aspect of her day that had yet to be cleared up.

And now that it had come to mind, she feared she may be unable to sleep until she had an answer.

“Kan-chan?”

“Hm?”

“You know the binder you keep with recipe print-outs…? Do you have any idea what box it’s in?”

His face was mostly buried by the bedsheets by now, but she could tell from the part she could see that he was thinking hard.

“Uh… Oh! My car.”

“…Your car?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want the other kitchen stuff to squash it, so I put it separate. I see it every time I go in there an’ I keep saying I’ll bring it in and never do. How come…?”

Naoto heaved a great sigh and flopped on the bed besides him. It wasn’t until her face hit the pillow that she realised exactly how exhausting her day had been. “So you had it all along… I never would have found it.”

“You were lookin’ for it?”

“I was. I wanted to make you that curry instead, the one you called your favourite.”

“Ohhhh. I getcha now." He laughed. "That woulda been a good choice. But y’know anythin’ would have been fine. I got a real soft-spot for Italian food, hehe.”

“I like that curry myself though,” she added, as she shuffled under the covers. “It’s rare to find something spicy that you can handle as much as I…”

“You do, huh? I see.”

There was silence for a while. And then…

“Hey, Naoto…?”

“Mmm?”

“When’s your next day off?”

“My next day off…? That would be Sunday… Why?”

But Kanji didn’t answer. Instead, he just leaned over to kiss her goodnight, and then, with a sleepy smile, he rolled over and went to sleep.

[neesieiumz]

All the Stars {Tamaki Amajiki x Reader} - Chapter 2

Summary: When Fatgum hires a sidekick transferring from America and assigns Tamaki to show her around, Tamaki sees the differences between the two of them and wonders if they are even going to get along? At least she seems like a decent person...right

A/N: This was honestly unexpected, I’m glad I was able to push this out in time!

Word count: 1.9 k

Chapter 2 - Coffee Shop

Tamaki shivered and pulled his scarf closer to his face as he walked to the cafe near his and Mirio’s apartment. Rambling on beside him was the Permeation hero rambling on about a mission he did, taking down some villains in a hostage situation.

“So then after we sent the villains on their way to jail, one of the hostages, she wouldn’t let go of me, something about not wanting one of the villains to come after her in some kind of revenge for “getting them arrested” and wanted me to stay the night, can you believe it?!” Mirio laughed at the memory.

“I’m pretty sure she just wanted to sleep with you Mirio,” Tamaki mumbled under his breath but it was loud enough for the SUnshine hero to hear him.

He laughed and slapped Tamaki on the back, taking the man by surprise and making him nearly fall over. Tamaki looked back at his friend once he got his balance and gave Mirio his best glare. Mirio did nothing but smile at him and opened the door to their favorite cafe to meet up with Nejire when she was in town. The warmth of the cafe tingled at Tamaki’s cold face as the smell of pumpkin spice and peppermint filled his senses. He unravels his scarf and cracked his neck to allow himself to relax further.

“Mirio, Tamaki! Over here!”

They both looked up and saw Nejire standing up and waving at the two of them. The both of them smiled at their female friend and walked over to the table she reserved for the three of them. Tamaki let Mirio in first before pulling out his own seat and sitting down.

“Hey Neijre, it’s been a while,” Mirio smiled, holding her gloved hands with his own, making Nejire blush.

Tamaki noticed the both of them and rolled his eyes, the two of them have been pinning after each other since school ended for the three of them. Tamaki placed his arms on the table and pulled out his phone and waited for the two of them to finish their love meeting. He was scrolling through his messages, replying back to Fatgum about possibly taking an undercover case when someone yelled out Nejire’s name. All three of them looked up and saw the cafe worker holding a drink case with three coffees and some warped up sandwiches and bags.

“Oh, that’s for us!” Nejire started to get up but Tamaki beat her to it.

“You stay here, I can go get it,” Tamaki reluctantly offered.

Nejire looked a little concerned, “you sure Tamaki, I can get it.”

Tamaki nodded and made his way over to the pickup counter, “yeah, it’s fine, plus I need to let you guys finish flirting anyways.”

Tamaki walked away not seeing Nejire’s flushed face and Mirio’s sheepish expressions.

“HA! Good one Tamaki!” Mirio laughed off Tamaki’s jab at their love life, making Tamaki shake his head.

Tamaki walked up to the counter and picked up the order Neijre placed for the three of them, just about when he was about to walk away…

“Amajiki-san!”

Tamaki flinched and slowly turned around to find Y/n, the new sidekick Fatgum just hired, standing there, holding two coffees, and a small bag in her hands. It’s been about two weeks since the BMI hero hired Y/n and already she’s made such a big splash in Japan. Recently she and her partner Aoi took down a recently rising gang in Japan and Y/n was able to keep most of the villains back without hurting innocent bystanders.

Tamaki took a look at what she’s wearing, an orange hoodie with camo baggy pants and white sneakers. On her head was a white and her individual braids were all tied in one big braid pulled to the side.

“Amajiki-san, I thought it was you! I haven’t seen you in a while since you gave me that tour! Man, it’s been a while!” Y/n smiled, stepping even closer to him.

Tamaki could feel his ears getting hot as he tried to respond to her, “Yeah, I guess it has been a while.”

“I heard you got hurt when taking down some villains in an attempted bank robbery, you’re okay right?” Y/n looks at him with concern, stepping even closer to him.

Tamaki’s eyes widened and tried to discreetly create some distance between the two of them but answered her question.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a couple of scratches and bruises, nothing to be worried about. What about you? I heard you took down a gang of villains terrorizing some civilians by yourself while your partner was evacuating citizens.”

Y/n smiled brightly, much like Mirio’s, making the manifest hero smile back at her.

“You heard about that huh? Yeah, it was hard but I was glad I was able to hold them back long enough until Aoi was able to get the bystanders out of the way!” Y/n boasted, making dramatic gestures trying to recap what happened. Tamaki couldn’t help himself and laughed a little at her actions, he thought he was being quiet with it but Y/n’s ears must have picked up on him and turned to look at him. Tamaki saw this and thought that he had offended her,

Oh no, why did I laugh at her?! I couldn’t help it, she looks so cute!

Right before he was about to apologize, a soft smile took itself on her face and Y/n titled her head before speaking.

“You have a nice laugh Tamaki, you should definitely use it more.”

Tamaki’s widened and his ears went completely hot, his mouth dried out and suddenly all the words in his mind went blank. What’s happening to him? What did she do to him? Is this a secret quirk that she hid from everyone? As that was happening, a male voice called out to Y/n which pulled Tamaki back to earth. They both turned to the door where Aoi was standing there annoyed,  holding the door open.

“Come on! We have patrol soon!” He yelled at her.

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at him before turning back to Tamaki, smiling wistfully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

“I’ll see at the agency, whenever our schedules overlap.”

With one final look between the two of them, Y/n walked away and headed to her grumpy partner who was looking at her with playful disdain. Y/n noticed this and playfully punched him in the stomach. Y/n walked out without looking back but as Aoi followed behind her, he looked back at Tamaki and glared at him. This took Tamaki back and he jumped back at the iciness of the glare. With that final look, Aoi followed his partner to the parking lot down the street where Aoi most likely parked, having pride in not taking the train. Tamaki’s eyes followed the two of them until he couldn’t see them. Once he couldn’t, he let out a breath. In relief, in sadness? He wasn’t sure yet.

Tamaki walked back to his friends who were so not watching the entire interaction between him and Y/n. Knowing them, Tamaki avoided eye contact with them and placed their respective orders in front of them. Tamaki then took his seat and was about to take a sip of his coffee when Nejire finally broke.

“Okay, so like, are we not gonna talk about the super cute girl that Tamaki held a full conversation with?! Like Tamaki, you never told us about her! Like who is she? What’s her quirk? When did you meet her? What did you-”

“Okay! One question at a time. Nejire, don’t want to overwhelm him,” Mirio calmed her down and handed a red velvet peppermint cupcake to munch on. That seemed to do the trick and Nejire stopped talk to eat her treat but still looked at Tamaki, awaiting an answer from him. Tamaki sighed, knowing he’ll have to answer their questions. He opened his container and saw a roast beef, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich. He began to and shortly explained who Y/n was.

“She’s a new sidekick that Fatgum hired who transferred from America recently. I had to show her around the facility when she was hired.” Tamaki said in-between bites of his sandwich.

Nejire nodded but his explanation didn’t satisfy her, she felt that Tamaki was holding back more on her but decided to leave it for another day.

“Who was that dude with her? He didn’t seem to like you very much” Mirio asked, picking up a piece of egg.

Tamaki thought back to the man and shudder at his intense glare, “his name is Aoi, he’s another sidekick that was hired a year after me...and I don’t know why he looks at me like that…” Tamaki trailed off, thinking back to when Fatgum introduced them.

Tamaki was returning from patrol by himself, his nerves fried from having to talk to so many citizens, luckily no villains tried their luck and everything was smooth sailing for his entire shift. He was about to enter the locker room when he bumped into someone leaving. He was slightly shoved but knew if he was a regular person, he would have been pushed to the floor. Tamaki looked over and saw someone he never has seen before walking out in gear he’s never seen before. Tamaki was about to ask who he was when he heard Fatgum.

“Aoi, looking good!”

Aoi…? Tamaki thought, cracking his neck to relieve some of the tension there.

Fatgum looked back and noticed Tamaki standing there and smiled, “hey Tamaki! Returning from patrol?” Fatgum waved.

Tamaki looked away sheepishly and nodded. Thinking back to some conversations he had with Fatgum about possibly hiring some new sidekicks. Tamaki realized that this must have been one of the new sidekicks Fatgum may have hired.

“Well, let me introduce each other,” Fatgum waved Tamaki.

Tamaki took a deep breath and slowly walked to where the two of them were. He stopped a couple of steps from them and waived for Fatgum to introduce them.

“Tamaki, this is Aoi, he’s the newest edition to the agency, I’ve already given him the tour and we’re about to go on patrol but I’m glad we caught you before we left!” Fatgum smiled and took a couple of steps back to let them introduce each other personally. Aoi didn’t move a muscle and they both stood there in silence before Tamaki took a deep breath and moved his hand to introduce himself.

“I’m Tamaki Amajiki, my hero name’s Suneater.”

Aoi looked at Tamaki and looked down at his hand before rolling his eyes and turning towards, in a thick accent, Aoi spoke to Fatgum.

“Can we get to patrol, I want to learn about this city as soon as possible!”

Fatgum looked surprised that Aoi didn’t take Tamaki’s hand and was about to say something but Tamaki interrupted him.

“I need to get changed anyway, it was nice to meet you Aoi-san.” Tamaki gave a small bow before walking away and back to the locker rooms to change out of his hero suit. All before Fatgum could say anything.

Tamaki shook himself out of that flashback. That was three years ago, and ever since then, Aoi has held a look of disdain for Tamaki, even though Tamaki could never figure out why.

Tamaki took a sip of his coffee and finished his sandwich. He could worry about Aoi later, today was his only day off in a month and a half and wanted to spend it with his friends.

[hopelikethemoon]

Inhale/Exhale (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Inhale/Exhale Rating: PG-13 Length: 3700 Warnings: Mild Panic Attack, Recreational Drug Use (Marijuana), and Allusions to Sex Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in Februrary 1998.  Summary: Reader pulls the trigger on the DEA article. 

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn​ @cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​  @yabby-girl​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​ @punkass-potato​ @coredrive​ @pascalesque​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​ @holkaskrosnou​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @seeking-a-great--perhaps​

There was no coming back from this. Hell, you’d already crossed the point of no return when Javier had handed you those files for Christmas. The DEA had made it clear that they weren’t going to take this laying down ��� they’d already tried to bully both of you into silence. 

And you hadn’t backed down.

They clearly hadn’t realised that you could almost die from childbirth and still come back punching harder than before. You weren’t going to let them silence you. You deserved credit for your contributions in the agency. Was that really so wrong?

“And you plan to run this as a three-part series?” You questioned.

Gregory Vickers sat across from you at your dining room table. He was a well-respected journalist. He had worked for years to uncover cases that were much larger than your fight against the DEA. Horrendous sexual assault scandals in the Navy. Government cover-ups. He’d made a name for himself by pursuing stories that weren’t for the faint of heart. 

Javier shifted in his seat as you passed the article towards him. Your entire career at the DEA had been reduced to a neat stack of pages that peeled back the layers on the lies, cover-ups, and ploys of intimidation that had kept you out of the public Narcos casefiles. 

“Three front page runs. March, April, May. All above the fold.” Gregory answered, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at you. “Two follow-ups either side of the April front page. I anticipate they’ll have an official rebuttal of the claims leveled.” He looked towards Javier then, before looking back at you. “Expect fallout.”

You tensed at his words, sitting up straighter. You only relaxed when Javier’s hand found yours beneath the table. He interlaced his fingers with yours, squeezing gently. “We’re ready for whatever they throw at us.” 

“You’re certain your student isn’t interested in lending credence to your claims that they paid her to lie about an affair?” Gregory questioned, arching a brow at Javier then. “I’m willing to run that element, unverified, but you know they’ll counter it.”

“She’s part of an at-risk demographic,” You explained to him. “I would prefer to keep her name out of this, Mr. Vickers.” 

“Well, if they bankrolled her, then the DEA knows who she is.” He adjusted his glasses, before resting his arms against the table as he leaned forward. “I’m just trying to make sure you realize what will happen.”

You drew in a deep breath, before exhaling slowly. Nancy had prepared you for this. She’d talked you through the process of managing your anxiety. You inhaled again. One. Two. Three. You exhaled just as slowly, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest.

Javier gave your hand three squeezes, leaning towards you to whisper, “Baby, why don’t you see if the coffee’s done percolating?”

“Hmm?” You questioned, turning to stare at Javier blankly. You had heard him, but you hadn’t really heard what he said. The drumming of your pulse in your ears was more than a little overwhelming.

Gregory cleared his throat, “Why don’t we take a break for a couple minutes?” 

“That sounds like a damn good idea,” Javier said, knocking his knuckles against the top of the table. 

“Would you like some coffee, Mr. Vickers?” You questioned. 

“That would be lovely, thank you.” He offered you a warm smile as he nodded his head. “I’m going to take a short call in the car and I’ll be back in here in two ticks.” 

“I’ll walk you out.” Javier said, releasing his hold on your hand as he rose to his feet. He reached over, giving you shoulder a squeeze before he followed Gregory out of the dining room. You remained sitting, staring straight ahead at the wall behind where he had been sitting. 

This article had to come out. Come hell or high water, you wanted the DEA to pay for all the bullshit you had to put up with. The agency was a boy’s club and as long as they kept treating it like one, people were going to get caught in the crossfire. Women were going to get stuck in the crossfire. 

They had taken a “risk” on you. You still remembered the bullshit hoops you had to jump through to get the assignment. No one wanted to go to Colombia — but you did. You were willing to give up the comforts you had in Atlanta, the menial work you had at the DEA office, in order to go to a highly undesirable situation. 

Who knew what else was going on down there? Chris was allowed to operate, unchecked. You were almost certain you weren’t the only woman who came in contact with his misogynistic, sexist, vile bullshit. You pitied the women that weren’t in the position to call him out. 

And you were certain not every agent was like Javier when it came to getting information out of informants. You’d seen some of the redacted reports that had come out of the Mexico office. The entire DEA was filled with monsters. Omitting you from the Pablo Escobar case was the least of things. 

“Baby,” Javier started. You hadn’t even realized he’d returned. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” He reached out and curled his hand around your forearm, dragging his fingers up and down the length of it. “Mr. Vickers is willing to push this off for another couple of months if you want.”

“No. I want it to come out.” You met his eyes, resting your hand over his on your arm. “I can’t drag this out for another year.”

“You were a million miles away just now.” He said gently, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m not gonna lie, there’s still… some residual stress related to this.” You gestured to the article sitting between you on the table. “But it’s gonna be okay, Javi. I think this is the sort of situation where a little anxiety is allowed.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, raking his fingers through his hair as he sank back in his seat. “I feel like my gut’s in a knot. This shit… it’s not fun.”

“Just remember, you were the one that pushed me into this. You gave me all of the tools to make this possible.” You pointed at him, before you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Why don’t you get coffee and I’ll go check on the girls?”

“Sounds like a plan, baby.” Javier winked at you, before you both parted ways. 

“How’s it going out there?” Monica questioned as you walked into your bedroom. With the door that led out into the backyard, sequestering the girls and Stevie in your bedroom had made the most sense. If the dog needed to go out or Josie got to be too much, Monica had access to more space. 

“I had a very small episode.” You admitted, shutting the door behind you as you crouched down to pet Stevie. She barked softly, jumping up to lick at your face excitedly. “There’s my pretty girl.” You cooed, sinking down on the floor and letting her flop onto your lap. 

“Shit. Are you okay?” Monica questioned, propping Sofía up on her legs as she perched on the edge of the bed. 

You shrugged, “It’s to be expected. There’s a lot of… emotions tied up in this situation.” Stevie seemed thrilled with the attention you were giving her, rolling onto her side so you could reach her belly. “Mr. Vickers is great, though. He’s super understanding.”

“Did… I get brought up?” Monica questioned, glancing behind her to check on Josie who was laying on the bed listening to a Read-Along tape. 

“Yeah, but I told him you aren’t interested in having your name associated with this.” You gave her a look. “The last thing I want is your parents trying to contact you. There’s a whole world of trouble that could come from this.” 

Monica nodded her head slowly, rubbing her lips together. “I never thought anything like this would ever happen to me. I still feel like an idiot for accepting the money, but I…” She bounced Sofía in her lap. “I never meant to cause you or Javier any harm. Despite what I had to do.”

“Water under the bridge.” You waved your hand. “Neither of us expect you to participate in this. It’s not your fight.” 

“I really hope this works out.” She smiled at you. “Everything you have told me about Colombia… You deserve to be there, right alongside Steve and Javier.” 

“I do.” You sighed heavily, turning your head when you heard the front door open. Through the bedroom door you could hear Javier’s muffled voice as he spoke with Mr. Vickers somewhere near the dining room. “I guess I have to go back out there.” 

She gave you a sympathetic look. “When is the article going to come out?”

You dragged your teeth over your bottom lip, “From March to May.” 

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” You pursed your lips. “It’s crazy. I’ll be a nervous wreck.” 

Monica snapped her fingers, giving you a look. “Didn’t Chucho give you a gift at Christmas?”

You felt your cheeks burn with guilt. “Yep. He did.” You made a face, “I tried to broach the topic last month when the old man was lurching around because of his back.” 

“It does wonders for anxiety.” Monica pointed out. 

Your lips parted to respond, but a knock on the other side of the bedroom door startled you. “Baby?”

“I’m coming!” You called back, giving Stevie one more pet before you peeled yourself off the floor. “Maybe I’ll give it a try tonight.” You told Monica as you opened the door.

“Try what?” Javier questioned, his brows drawn together as you met his eyes.

“Weed.” You answered as you moved past him, pulling the door shut behind you. “Don’t look so scandalized. I’ll call your father.” 

“That is the first time you’ve threatened to get my father involved in a conversation.” Javier snorted. 

“We both know I’m his favorite.” You winked at him, walking side-by-side with him as you headed into the dining room where Mr. Vickers was waiting for you. “I’m so sorry for the wait.”

“Take all the time you need. I understand.” He assured you, offering a kind smile. “You’ve been put through an extraordinary situation. You’re allowed to need time.”

“I want this article to run.” You said firmly, gesturing to your copy of the article. “And whatever you need moving forward, I’m ready to deal with it.” 

“You’re a strong woman.” 

“I have three daughters.” You stated. “I’m doing this for them.” 

Gregory rose to his feet, extending his hand to you, “I’m proud of you for coming forward. It’s not easy.”

You shook his hand, “You’ve been great. I hope this is beneficial to your career. We need more journalists who are willing to go after these entities.” 

“It’s just the tip of the iceberg. I can assure you of that.” Mr. Vickers told you. “I’ve already received feelers for a much larger case. You’re the lynchpin.” 

Javier curled his arm around your waist, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “She’s a goddamn marvel.” He said, before he shook Mr. Vickers hand. “Thank you for this.” 

“I’m glad you reached out.” Gregory offered. “If only there were more men who were willing to speak up about what goes on around them.”

“I’m not a hero,” Javier insisted. “It was the right thing to do. I only wished I spoke up sooner about some of the bullshit that went on down there. It’s easy when there aren’t eyes on you to get away with murder.” 

He nodded his head, “You’re onto something there, Mr. Peña.” Gregory looked towards you then, “Again, what you’ve done is incredibly brave. We’ll keep in touch as this progresses forward.” 

 ———

 You were going to have to call Chucho tomorrow to thank him for his Christmas gift. It had done wonders to help ease all the tension you felt in your body.

In fact — what even was tension? You held the smouldering joint between your fingers and took another deep inhale, turning your head as you exhaled. 

Javier definitely needed to give this a try. He’d forget he ever had pain if he’d just… smoke some marijuana. He could get away with it. 

After all, he was a hot professor hell bent on teaching his students how to dismantle the government from inside. Inside.

You snorted at your own thoughts. You sat the joint down on the plate you’d brought outside with you. You hadn’t had an ashtray in your house since… well, since you’d moved to Miami. 

How had that been so long ago? Josie was almost five! Sofía was almost one. 

Oh God, you were getting old. 

But happy. Really happy. 

You leaned forward on your elbows, smiling to yourself as you looked around your backyard. 

Once upon a time, you wouldn’t have been able to wrap your head around having a house. You’d pretty much convinced yourself you’d live in apartments — alone — for the rest of your life. And then there was Javier

“Baby?”

Shit. 

You fumbled with the joint, trying to hide it, but instead you accidentally burnt your hand. “Fuck! Hi. Are the girls asleep?”

His hands went to his hips, “They are. What are you doing?” Javier approached the picnic table with a curious look. “Are you smoking?”

“No—“

“What the fuck? I thought we both agreed to quit when Josie was born.”

“You need to bring it down… to a two, my love.” You waved your hand dismissively. “You’re killing my buzz.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He moved closer, picking up the joint and sniffing. “Weed? Really?”

You shrugged, “I am your father’s favorite.”

“I thought you were joking!” 

You moved to kneel on the bench so you were almost eye-level with Javier. “You need to hush. I’m having a moment.” You cupped his cheeks and kissed him soundly on the mouth. 

“Baby,” He urged as he pulled out of your grasp. “You are high.” Javier’s brows pinched together as he met your gaze. 

Your eyes wandered and you laughed warmly. “So what if I am?”

“Oh my God.” He shook his head, keeping a hand at your hip. “How long has this been going on?”

“An hour?” You frowned. “Do you mean the weed or do you mean how long I’ve been crazy about you?”

His brows shot upwards, “Alright, come on. I think I’m gonna need to tuck you in too, baby.”

You giggled, “You can tuck right into me.”

Javier rolled his eyes, “Really?” 

“You should get high too!” You grabbed at the front of his shirt, toying with the buttons. “You would love it. It’s so liberating.” You grinned at him, “There’s enough left.” 

“I’m not smoking marijuana.”

“Your back won’t bother you. Your knees won’t bother you.” You danced your fingers up his chest, curling your hand around the side of his neck. “And then we can have a little fun. If you get what I mean.”

“You’re high. The only thing we’re going to do is get you to bed, baby.”

“But I’m horny.”

Javier’s jaw clenched tightly. “Bed. To sleep.” He convinced you to get off the bench, but not before you snatched up the joint and put it out. “When did my father give this to you?”

“Christmas.” You told him, tucking the joint back into the tin box he’d given to you. “He thought you might be willing to try it.”

“Not happening.”

“Even if it’ll make you feel better?”

“It’s illegal.”

You wheeled around then, hands on your hips. “I swear to God, if you try to flush my weed down the toilet I’ll…”

“You’ll what?”

You blinked, “I have no idea where I was going with that. Huh.”

“I’m not going to do anything to your weed.” He assured you, holding out your hand for him to take. “C’mon.”

“So sex is definitely off the table?”

“Yes, because you’re high.” Javier huffed, letting go of your hand as you wandered into the bedroom. “You’re going to bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep. I feel good. I’m gonna enjoy it.” You told him firmly, ducking into your closet to stow your stash, before you headed back into the bedroom.

Javier looked so disappointed. It was hilarious — so hilarious, in fact, that you started laughing. 

“Your mustache looks funny when you frown.” You teased, moving towards him. You reached out and petted your fingers over his mustache, giggling again. “I love it.”

“Bed.”

“No.” You mimicked his voice, hands on your hips. “You’re such a killjoy sometimes, babe. We could be having so much fun right now. But instead you’re all.” You dramatically pouted.

“Will you at least lay down?”

You rolled your eyes, looking over at the bed. You considered it for the moment. “Maybe.” You looked back at Javier then. “Are you sure you’re not ‘in the mood’?” You questioned.

Javier arched a brow, “When have you ever used air quotes?” 

“Five seconds ago.” You shot back with a smirk, moving closer to him again. “Come on Javi… You know it would be fun.” You ran your hands up his chest, before resting them on his shoulders. “You should really try it. I feel so good. Like I could just float up off the floor.” 

“As tempting as it might be, I’m gonna have to say ‘no’, baby.” He gave your hip a squeeze, “Okay?”

“Fine.” You sighed dramatically. “But you’re going to have to leave.”

“Excuse me?” 

“I told you. I’m horny.” You poked him in the chest as you pulled away from him, heading over towards the nightstand. “And if you’re not going to put out, I’m gonna have to break out ye olde trusty.” 

“You are… ridiculous.” He chuckled, unable to hide his amusement. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“Is that how this works?” You questioned, pulling the hot pink vibrator out of the box, turning back towards him then with an amused grin. “If I want something, I get it?”

“Nice try. No.” He shook his head. 

You pointed at him with the toy, waving it around for emphasis. “Javier, you’re no fun!”

“I’m plenty of fun, baby.” He deadpanned, hands on his hips as he watched you move towards the bed. 

“I beg to differ. You’re a grumpy old man.”

“Yeah, but you love me.” 

You flopped back onto the bed, “Do I?”

“Ouch.”

“I’m not loving that you’re killing my buzz. Buzzkill.” You pouted as you sat up and looked at him. “Don’t you want to feel better?”

“I feel fine.”

“That wasn’t you complaining this morning about your back?” You arched a brow. “And your shoulder — totally fine, right?”

“Marijuana is illegal.”

“It’s illegal for Monica and Nadia to get married.” You pointed out, sitting the toy aside on the mattress. “And yet you don’t think that is wrong.”

“You’re not allowed to make valid points when you’re high.” Javier shook his head. “Alright, so some illegal things are fine.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Isn’t that why you keep me around?” You pursed your lips as you stared at him. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to smoke?”

He shook his head slowly. “Maybe another day.”

“But not a hard ’no’?”

Javier relented, “Yeah. Maybe I’ll try it some other day. But one of us had to be sober in case something happens with the girls.”

“Oh. That’s smart,” You nodded. “You’re a good dad.”

“I do my best.” Javier approached the bed, sitting down beside you. He reached over and took your hand into his, lifting it to his lips to kiss each knuckle. “I’m sorry this bullshit with the article has you stressed.”

“It’s not—“ You cut yourself off. “It’s just a lot.”

“I wish I had known. Before all of this.” He sighed heavily. “So much fucking bullshit.”

“Javier,” You leaned towards him and rested your cheek on his shoulder. “Don’t kill my buzz.”

He chuckled, resting his hand atop your thigh. “Sorry, baby.”

“I should’ve told you I was gonna smoke.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “But I didn’t want you to stop me.”

“You’re an adult.” Javier remarked, “You can do whatever you want. Even if it’s illegal.”

You nudged your elbow into his ribs, “Fuck off.” A soft giggle escaped you as you curled your arms around his middle. You shifted on the bed so you could throw your legs over his lap. “Hold me.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice, baby.” He chuckled, curling his arm around your waist. Javier took that as an opportunity to scoot back on the bed so you were at least, somewhat near the head of the bed. 

“Can you imagine if we were both high?” You questioned, stretching out so you could all but lay on top of him. You were actually kinda sleepy. “This is a nice pillow.”

Javier rubbed his hand down the length of your back, “You’re ridiculous.”

“But what if we were both high?” You poked him in the chest. 

“Quit poking me.” He laughed, grabbing your hand. “I don’t know… What do you think I’d be like high, baby?”

“Well, I hope you’d be willing to fuck me then. Because I bet sex is great when you’re high.” You sighed contentedly, enjoying the feel of Javier’s hand as he ran his hand up and down your back. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this calm. 

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out.” Javier told you, tilting his head to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Baby, you’re drool— Nevermind. Go to sleep.”

You mumbled something to yourself that you weren’t even certain of. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

You let that weightless feeling pull you under into the most blissful, stress-free, night of sleep you’d ever experienced. 

[fleckcmscott]

Bewitching Hour

Summary: October has been a blissfully busy month. With Halloween around the corner, Arthur and Y/N have some planning to do.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 4,665

A/N: Special thanks to @hhandley80​ for this request! You've been so supportive and sweet. I truly appreciate you and hope you enjoy it!

On a side note, my oneshots will be more sporadic. I'm still writing but life has been life. Also, I've finished the first draft of another multi-chapter featuring Arthur and Y/N. It's going to take time to rewrite the subsequent drafts and edit, edit, edit. The chapters will go up once the story is ready. Thanks for your patience and support! 🙂 I heart you all!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! 

Arthur's suggestion that they make plans to celebrate Halloween should not have been a surprise. He loved starting traditions with Y/N, and she prized adopting them with him. "It's been awhile," he'd said as they'd walked arm-in-arm to the laundromat. "I think it'd be nice."

Holidays had been a source of merriment most of her life. The beauty of red and green decorations at Christmas. Turkey and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving. An egg hunt and chocolate rabbit at Easter. The togetherness of family during them all.

Halloween, though, wasn't a favorite.

As a child, she'd had fun trick-or-treating, riding her bike from house to far-flung house. And she hadn't minded escorting her little sister as a teenager. Y/N's homemade witch costume had been passed down. She could still recall the sleekness of the ribbon between her fingers as she'd secured the pointed hat under Mabel's chin.

But the magic had fallen away. When married to Jeff, she'd had to attend his boss's annual party. After receiving an apologetic shrug and kiss, she'd be relegated to hanging out with the other wives. They'd included her in their recipe swaps, in their exchanges of mild gossip. Her natural friendliness made chit-chat easy, far easier than having a good time. Those evenings had been spent nursing a glass of wine and willing the clock to go faster.

During the period she'd cared for her father, she'd tried to hand out candy. She liked being a good neighbor and imparting kindness in the form of bite-sized sweets. As his health had declined, the porch light had gone dark. Random rings of the doorbell would result in shouting and swearing. Repeated attempts to explain the door's lock wasn't broken. Festivity would transform into drudgery. It hadn't been worth the trouble. Instead, she'd watched terrible TV specials while her thoughts wandered to a future far from Boonville. A future she'd doubted would ever be.

"I don't know if it's your thing," Arthur had continued, bringing her back to the present. "But you might enjoy it with me." The response he longed for was evident in the worrying of his pocket, outlines of his knuckles visible through the tan cloth.

Everything they'd experienced together had soothed the sting of those wasted years. The hesitancy lurking in her was silly. Unwelcome. Less than either of them deserved. She'd met his keen eyes and half-smile. The sudden mental image of him dressed as a cowboy or pirate, eyepatch and all, prompted a laugh. Convinced her as she dug out her dry-cleaning stub. "It isn't my thing," she'd said. "But you are."

Relief had relaxed his wrinkles, save for his crows feet, which had deepened as he'd returned her happy expression. A slender arm wrapped around her waist, drew her against his solid frame. Once the clerk disappeared through the swinging doors to retrieve their clothes, Arthur grasped her chin and kissed her. The tender explorations were soon sloppy, and she'd giggled, his enthusiasm becoming her own. Their noses had met, his lashes resting on his wide cheekbones. "I think you're the sweetest treat, Mrs. Fleck."

Currently, Donahue's Department Store, Gotham's number one retail emporium (if the ads were to be believed), was bustling with last-minute shoppers. Weary mothers escorted their babbling children through the aisles. Clerks swapped out displays for the changing blue light specials. Lines went for yards. Patricia and Y/N sought refuge at a corner table in the café on the top floor. The warm glow from the pendant lamps provided a relaxed ambience, one that matched the hot cider and pumpkin spice cake they were savoring.

"I've got my grandson on Sunday," Patricia said between bites. "My daughter's going to a party with a medical records tech from Gotham General. Met him when she missed the bus. They split a cab and hit it off." Chuckling, she lifted her mug. "Speaking of, how's married life been so far?"

Memories of the past week quickened Y/N's heart, until she thought it might stop. How Arthur had gripped her replacement Social Security card, just to read her new name. The way he'd grab her for a twirl whenever they were in the kitchen. The reverence in his gaze when they'd lay together after sex, a look that both thrilled and made her blush. "The bills for his medication and appointments will no longer make us cringe," she deadpanned. She lowered her fork. "When we met, I was kind of blindsided - I'm not the type to fall in love quickly." The corners of her lips tugged up. "Being married to Arthur feels like a habit. A habit I should have learned twenty years ago."

"I'm glad you found each other." Patricia reached across the light brown table and covered Y/N's hand, gave it a squeeze. Then she wiped frosting from her mouth and nodded in the direction of the escalator. "Now let's find a costume that'll drive him nuts."

Beyond the colorful cosmetics and pungent perfume counters, they sorted through racks of vinyl smocks and plastic masks. Pop culture icons and princesses. Vampires and spooks. Knockoffs of classic movie monsters. Most were poorly made and decidedly uninteresting. Y/N pawed through accessories in a nearby basket, a cigar here, a patched hat there. "How about a hobo? I could steal Arthur's tie."

"This was his idea. Give him something a little exciting." After a roll of Y/N's eyes, Patricia held out a plastic display bag. "Found it."

The white font on its blue label declared she should "Create a unique look!" A woman in a leopard-print leotard and bow-tie wore black cat ears and a tail, the only two items included in the set. Y/N's nose wrinkled. "I don't think so, Patricia." She rummaged through another bin and examined a hockey mask. "I don't show a lot of skin."

"You show Arthur." Patricia ignored Y/N's glare, continuing to shove it at her. "Every man loves a woman dressed as a cat. Our next lunch is on me if I'm wrong."

Patricia could be relentless, but Y/N had to admit she was usually right. She arched a brow as she eyed the costume. Maybe she could find a solid body suit instead of animal print. The kit was only $2.98. And her friend had made it a challenge. "You're on. But I'm not wearing a bow-tie." She crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her mouth. "Your turn. Would Robert like you as a French maid or a go-go dancer?"

~~~~~

It was a busy season for performers. Arthur remembered HaHa's talent agency being booked solid for October by the end of August. Myriad functions at nursing homes, parties, and children's organizations took place throughout the city. Amusement Mile had a series of special events, allowing Arthur to work extra hours before the slowness of winter dragged in. Once the holiday was over, he'd buy make-up and props on clearance.

He'd always assumed he would like Halloween - if he'd had the chance to celebrate it properly. It was about connection, something he'd never managed. The customs gave him a pretense, a template to meet people, rather than leaving him wondering how to go about it. Provided a hiding place for his seeming inability to act normal.

Recollections of the day were few but vivid. When he'd been around eight, there'd been a party at school. The teacher had made brownies and given the students a half-hour respite from lessons. (A welcome relief, since he wasn't very good at most of them.) But he hadn't had a costume. Hadn't known how to reply when the other kids asked where it was. Not wanting to be left out, he'd pocketed a watercolor pallet and sneaked to the bathroom.

The teacher (he wished he could remember her name) had walked in as he'd smeared green and blue on his face, a pathetic attempt at a turtle. Fear of punishment had caused his laughter. But her kindness as she knelt, wiped away tears and pigment with a scratchy, brown paper towel, had calmed him. "Wait here," she'd instructed. It had taken all his courage not to run home.

After some minutes, she'd returned, an old white sheet in one hand, black marker and pair of scissors in the other. "The nurse won't miss this." She'd traced eyeholes, helped him cut them out. She'd asked questions. About his mother and what it was like at home. Questions he was at a loss for how to answer. Finally, she'd draped the cloth over his head. "There," she'd declared. "Gotham Elementary has its own ghost."

Even as he'd gotten taller and the sheet no longer went beyond his knees, that costume had remained his go-to. He'd venture out to the rest of his building, knocking on paint-chipped doors and pushing broken buzzers. Having learned to stay away from doors that yelling or funny smells emanated from, he hadn't gotten a lot of candy. What he had collected he'd shared with Penny. The wax lips became a free toy. He wasn't sure his memory of startling his mother and being tickled until he couldn't breathe was real or imagined.

At twelve, he was told he was too old to go trick-or-treating. He'd starting scrounging for change to buy hard candies at Helm's Pharmacy. They weren't particularly appetizing, but they'd been what he could afford. Only a few kids rang, a number that dwindled further every year. Most neighbors kept their distance, likely aware he was troubled. Cinnamon discs and butterscotch drops had loitered around the apartment for months. He'd sucked on them in an attempt to cut down on his smoking, just to save money. It hadn't worked.

Y/N hadn't spoken about the holiday, not the way she had other special occasions. At first, he'd thought it had slipped her mind. Work, planning their honeymoon, completing the red tape required to meld all aspects of their lives had taken up much of their time. But, given her reluctance to talk in detail about her past heartache, he'd come to assume her Halloweens had been unpleasant. He was certain he could change that.

Sitting on the dingy, dark green plastic seat of the train car, he giggled to himself, chest puffing up as he straightened. They'd been man and wife for eight whole days. Movies and songs said love was supposed to be somewhere between serendipitous and fated. A happy accident that was meant to be. Lying awake at night, he would find himself wondering where they were on that scale. If the emotions swirling through him - the excitement of belonging, the fear of fucking up - were what every newlywed felt. Then Y/N would snuggle closer in her sleep, murmur nonsense into his skin, and for a few minutes he'd be at peace.

Years had been spent trying to figure out who he was. Trying to find an identity, his role within the world. While he was still searching, it had been far easier to become accustomed to the role of "husband" than he'd dreamed.

Teaching his wife about events across the city had been a delight. Gotham Village's Annual Costume Extravaganza was a parade that went all the way to Gotham Square. He'd participated a couple of times, never formally registering but slipping into the clown section. It had been exhilarating. Had allowed him to pretend, for a little while, that he was being seen. That the crowds lining the sidewalks were cheering for him. Signs for extravagant balls were plastered on billboards and lampposts throughout the streets; he'd have gladly attended and shown her off. A haunted house was being held in a building in his old neighborhood, a fundraiser for the orphanage. He hadn't brought that up.

In the end, once he'd explained trick-or-treaters went from apartment to apartment, they'd decided on a cozy evening at home. The details had been left to her. Whatever she'd plan, he'd love it. He wondered what she'd disguise herself as. Would she be a sexy devil or nurse, like he'd seen on a sit-com? The notion sparked a fire in his cheeks.

Given how busy he'd be, he'd stay dressed as plain, old Carnival. Part of him regretted accepting two gigs, especially on a Sunday. He would have preferred her company. But he wanted to put the money towards the wedding band he'd put on layaway. (Even though they had one account, he wasn't going to let her chip in for it.) He should already be wearing it for all of Gotham to see.

The lurch of the subway prompted him to rise and grasp the pole grip. His stance widened as it came to a halt, knees bending with the instinct of a man who'd ridden public transportation since he was a boy. As soon as the graffiti-covered doors parted, he stepped out onto the platform and ascended the stairs, eager to share his new insurance information with Dr. Ludlow.

~~~~~

Scratchy violins and the hum of a theremin. Shrill shrieks and cracks of thunder. A cackle resounded, then a pipe organ, playing a melody in a minor key.

There was no doubt about it. Halloween spirit had saturated 4A.

NCB's Movie Marathon Mayhem had begun at 10:00 AM. Y/N had had it on since getting out of the shower, hoping to catch a horror classic while she decorated the apartment and prepared Bloody Mary mix. As she hung cotton batting between the television's rabbit ears, creating a long, narrow spider-web, she realized they were only playing cheesy B-movies. Giant insects threatening buildings. Science experiments gone wrong. Alien invasions. Oh well. At least she wouldn't have to pay much attention to get the gist of the plots.

The orange plastic platter, black bats along its edges, had been an impulse buy. She thought its array of sugary skeletons, candy bracelets, and Jolly Jack chocolate bars would be well received. But having seen only one or two kids in the lobby, she had no idea how many children lived in their building. She hoped she'd bought enough.

The cardstock window decorations she'd found were festive and matched Arthur's sweet nature. One portrayed a warted, green witch flying on a broom past a full moon. On the other, a ghost and mouse shared a pillowcase of candy and wished a "Happy Halloween." She held the tape dispenser between her teeth as she stuck them to their white front door.

Just then, the elevator dinged. Glancing to her left, she saw Arthur stroll down the cheerfully lit hallway. Buoyant expression on him, despite his white, blue, and red make-up being streaked from sweat. Striped prop bag on his shoulder and carved pumpkin cradled in his arms. "The store owner was going to throw it out," he explained with a half hug. "But he let me have it as a tip."

Classic, triangular eyes evoked the annual carving contest her parents had taken part of back home. Her father had been well-known in the community, being the town's only doctor. Entering the competition had been expected. They'd never won but enjoyed it all the same. Y/N had picked out the patterns and scooped out the squash's slimy innards. Her mother had baked the seeds. Peals of their laughter echoed in her ears, and a lump formed in her throat.

She swallowed hard against it. Dammit, Y/N. Get it together. This was supposed to be a special night for Arthur and her. She needed to distract herself. One of his curls peeked out from under his bald-cap and green wig. She twirled a strand around her finger. "With that toothy grin, it just might be your twin," she said. He pecked her temple, the kiss sticky from greasepaint. She lit the half-melted candles using his red lighter and put the jack-o-lantern just outside their door.

While he freshened his paint in the bedroom, she slinked into the bathroom to change. Arthur's and her routines were closely aligned; keeping her costume hidden had not been easy. The headband holding the furry cat ears was quite stiff, its teeth a tad sharp on her scalp. Once it was in place, she hid it under her hair. The lint on her form-fitting stretch top and leggings reminded her why she rarely wore all black. She retrieved her brown eyeliner from the nearby shelf and started in on her whiskers.

Arthur's footsteps neared, heavy due to his clown shoes, and Y/N turned to lean back on the sink. His thin lips parted as he scanned her body, forehead furrowed in pleasant surprise. His reaction planted a seed of bliss in her belly, one that bloomed every second they regarded each other. The lunch she'd have to spring for was well worth the pink shells of his ears. Eventually, she held out the fluffy, wired tail and a safety pin. "Would you pin this just below my waistband?"

Fingers grazing hers, he took it and sat on the toilet lid. He cupped her hips and pulled her closer, positioned her until the dampness of his breath hit a bare sliver of her back. "Hold still," he murmured, his voice sending a tingle through her. At his gentle ministrations, the spandex of her leggings felt snugger. "Did you- Did you read my journal?"

A faint click of metal as the pin closed. "No." She colored the tip of her nose, frowned at how lackluster the shade was. "I'd never do that. Even if I'm dying for a preview of your material. Why?"

"No reason." A soft huff, his shy smile clear in his answer. "I have an idea." He handed her a washcloth and hurried out of the room. She was patting her face dry when he returned, a fine tipped brush and pot of black greasepaint in his hand. "This'll look better."

Her brow arched. She'd only had her make-up done once; Patricia had invited her when they'd first met. Such an outing was not her preference, but Y/N had accepted, being new in town and wanting to learn about her colleague. There'd been champagne at the counter, which she'd sipped until she'd spent too much on eyeshadow and apricot scrub. The next morning, she'd put the products and a note on Patricia's desk: "I'll never forgive you. Thanks!"

The heat radiating from Arthur prompted her to close the gap between them. She craned her neck towards him, slid her palms to his yellow vest until she held him just below his ribs. His forefinger curled under her chin, lifted it slightly and angled it to the right. The cool, wet brush met her fevered skin. The dusty smell of the greasepaint blended with a whiff of stale cigarette smoke and traces of his sweat. She licked her lips.

The vibration of his chuckle was felt before heard. "I really like your costume," he said lowly. Two more ticklish caresses of the bristles on the apple of her cheek. "If you're not careful, I might werewolf and go wild."

She stretched closer to him, the fervor in his tone going straight to her center. Though he'd been growing bolder, his cocky side wasn't often revealed. She wanted it, thirsted to see more of the wild horse kicking inside him. Her touch ran over his chest, until she dipped under his black suspenders and pulled. "Are you going to gobble me up?"

Teasing strokes on her nose. "Maybe." Then his thumb whispered along her jaw and guided her face upwards. His kiss was supple, slow, a drag of his mouth as his tongue sought entry. She yielded, the simmer of anticipation bringing her to her toes. He groaned deeply and palmed her thigh, then fondled the curve of her rear-

The ding-dong of the doorbell halted them. He lifted his head and laughed, gaze sparkling. "I got paint on you."

She twisted in his arms and looked in the mirror. The whiskers caught her eye, embellished at the ends with dainty curlicues - his skill never ceased to impress her. Red brightened her lips and streaks of white were on her cheek. "It's all right. They'll just know I've been necking with a clown."

~~~~~

The sound of the bell continued. Over and over and over. More than it ever had in Otisburg. There were mummies, ghosts, a couple of skeletons. A superhero proudly displayed his red cape and blue tights, and a kid in her karate robe went on about her yellow belt. A tiny clown, too young to walk, was brought by her sister. As Arthur made funny faces, the baby cooed and tried to take his red, foam nose. Arthur parted with it gladly.

Only one member of the Wayne family appeared, slicked back hair and pompous pout making the disguise complete. The man accompanying the boy introduced himself as their upstairs neighbor and shook their hands. After one look at Y/N, he nudged Arthur's bicep. "So, she's the one keeping half the building up at night. Good on you, pal." Arthur blinked in confusion as she ushered the guy away, red-faced and muttering about his nerve.

Arthur was overly generous, giving out fistfuls of sweets while taking a few extra seconds to gather his nerves and compliment the costumes he liked best. It felt good to interact with strangers without constantly second guessing himself. Y/N would rub his arm or kiss his shoulder and tell him what a great job he was doing. "Kids are easy," he said, refilling the candy dish. But he reveled in her praises, anyway. And the knowledge that meeting the neighbors was going well.

Clean-up required little effort. The jack-o-lantern sat on their kitchen table, flames flickering as the wicks burned away. The door decor was packed safely for use next year. His plaid blazer was slung over the back of a dining chair and his wig was off. Y/N's decision to leave her whiskers on pleased him - she made a damn sexy cat. He pocketed the last few pieces of candy to snack on during the remainder of the evening.

The Sunday Night Special Presentation she'd picked out, a made-for-TV horror movie, began at 9:00 PM on GBC. Most of its airtime was punctuated by her tipsy snickers and legal wisecracks, which was typical when they watched something stupid. Yet, as the show went on, she grew quieter, barely speaking between sips of her third cocktail. As they sat on the sofa, her posture stiffened. Forearms crossed over her breasts. Her nails dug into her upper arm.

The change started two-thirds of the way into the show, when the plot about a doll running amok twisted into a story about a professional woman trying to assert herself against the demands of her mother. Against the expectations of availability. To fight for the simplicity of having dinner and peace and quiet. It resonated with him, which felt weird. Especially when the film cut to black, the implication being the mother would meet a violent end at the hands of her possessed daughter.

A cheerful jingle came on. Puerto Rico was a direct flight from Gotham Airport, it advertised, a flight that lasted "two hours and fifteen tropical minutes." They should get out while the weather was still good. The juxtaposition of mood broke him out of his ponderings. He flicked off the blaring television with the remote. Then he heard Y/N sniffling.

She set her glass on the coffee table, a slight tremble in her hand. "I need some air," she whispered as she rose, then went out onto the fire escape.

Arthur rubbed his thigh and pressed his lips together. He wasn't used to seeing her cry. Not from sadness. Should he follow her? Give her time? Both had worked previously, depending on the situation. But he wasn't sure what had upset her, what situation they were in now.

Exhaling sharply, he grabbed her glass and dumped the rest of the drink down the kitchen sink. Rinsed their dinner plates and put the slow cooker in the fridge. When he'd finished making decaf coffee ten minutes later, she still hadn't returned. He ambled towards the ajar glass door and stepped out.

Moonlight outlined her shapely figure and reflected off her hair, the silver a contrast to the orange glow of the streetlamps illuminating her face. Her stare seemed fixated on the street below. He followed it to see a group of ghouls and goblins spraying shaving cream on a shop window. A couple, one he'd see occasionally when out for a cigarette, walked down the sidewalk. A woman was half-carrying a drunk man towards a bus stop.

Upon clearing her throat, Y/N spoke. "I may not look like it, but I had a great time with you tonight. The movie just got to me." Relieved, Arthur sidled next to her, wrapped his arm about her back. Her head fell to his shoulder and she smoothed her hand over his stomach. "I don't mean to hide from you. Someday you'll know the details of my earlier life." She scoffed. "When I'm ready to think about them." He entwined their fingers and kissed her hairline, avoiding the wired tips of her cat ears.

Shivering, she took a shaky breath. "There are no skeletons in my closet. Only disappointments." Her voice cracked as she beamed at him, cupped his cheek, and pressed her face to his. "Knowing I'd get to have you would have made those years so much easier."

He held her tightly, massaging between her shoulders. She'd been speaking about herself, but he couldn't help thinking it was about him, too. His years with Penny. His stints in Arkham. The loneliness, the isolation, the endless anger and yearning to be more than a speck of dirt no one cared for. His journal was full of questions about where the hell his one and only was. If he'd known she'd be real, tangible instead of a figment, would existence have hurt less?

Wincing, he tried to push through those thoughts. To focus on her instead of himself. What mattered was that Y/N needed him. Perhaps a joke would cheer her. "I was thinking the other night of how easy it is to smile around you," he said. "You tickle my funny bone." Amusement bubbled in her throat, music to his ears. She released a contented sigh and nuzzled the crook of his neck.

Peaceful stillness ensued as the minutes passed. Though the breeze was chill, goosebumps forming on his pale skin, her affection kept his heart warm. His fingertips rubbed circles into her lower back, and she offered a pleasured hum. Across the way, footsteps pounded. He glanced to see a kid darting up the street, plastic pumpkin pail in tow. The boy's scream was filled with boundless energy: "Happy Halloween, Gotham!"

Snorting, Y/N took Arthur's hand and led him inside. The cheap tail she wore bounced with every exaggerated swivel of her hips. "I've behaved all evening, which your werewolf comment made extraordinarily difficult." She looped her arms around him and flashed a come-hither stare. "May I have a goodie?"

The scrape of her nails on his scalp coiled a knot in his abdomen. "Aren't you supposed to say 'trick-or-treat?'" he asked huskily.

"Your pussycat needs a petting or two." She closed the bedroom door behind them. "Maybe even a mauling."

His brows shot up on a hitched giggle. Then he palmed her hip while she started in on his buttons. Before she got too far, he traced a whisker with the pad of his thumb. Let their foreheads meet and pecked her eyelids. "Only if you give me something good to eat." He pressed into her, his enjoyment relentless, not waiting for her reply before devouring her mouth.

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​, @howdylilflower​, @sweet-nothings04​, @stephieraptorr​, @rommies​, @fallenstarsabyss​, @gruffle1​, @octopus-plasma​, @tsukiakarinobara​, @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile​, @another-day-in-chuckletown​, @hhandley80​, @jokerownsmysoul​, @mrscarnival​

[kpoptrashibnida]

Enchanted Pt. 1

A/N: So I am a total liar because I said I was going to do a Taehyung One Shot, but I am not. I don’t think I was meant for the One Shot lifestyle. I think my problems stems with having too many details in my work :( but I hope that you guys enjoy the beginning of this Tae mini series. I am going to try and stick to 3 to 4 parts, but we shall see. Happy reading! And as always, constructive criticism is always welcome/appreciated!

Moving to South Korea on your own seemed like a good choice at some point. Especially since you came to live with a boyfriend you made online and he promised you a wonderful life in an exciting country. Of course you were too naive to see what was really happening even though your friends and family tried talking you out of it the whole time, up to the day you were due to leave for Incheon.  

It was a big surprise to you when you arrived at the airport and he wouldn’t answer your texts. You figured he was stuck in traffic or on his way and didn’t want to text while driving, which is a good thing. But after waiting at the pickup curb for half an hour with still no answer, you started to worry. What if he got in an accident? Is he okay? He couldn’t have forgotten that you were arriving today because you sent him a screenshot of your flight info. Deciding that you had enough, you finally decide to call him. 

We are sorry, the number you have dialed is disconnected or no longer in service. Goodbye. 

“What the heck?” You whisper to yourself. You try it one more time and get the same message, your heart sinking. Is he ignoring you right now? Why isn’t he picking up? You log into your instagram to message him and your stomach twists in knots when you realize he blocked you. Your chat was no longer available and when you looked him up by username nothing came up. Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization that he was not coming for you and he just completely ghosted you. How could he do such a thing? Why would he promise to live his life with you and have you come out to a foreign country where you only know him just to abandon you? Did he mean it when he said he loved you? Or was it all just a game for him? 

Deciding that wallowing in self pity at the airport surrounded by strangers was not something you were about to do, you wipe away the stray tears and get to work.

‘This is why we came with a plan.’ You say to yourself, glad that you didn’t just come without a proper plan in place and blind trust on that bastard you once called your boyfriend. 

You looked up a hostel near the airport that was accessible by bus and started on your new journey. Thankfully the public transportation in Korea is amazing and you didn’t have to wait long to get on the bus. Once there, you made sure you kept your ears open for the name of your stop, grateful that you were smart enough to learn some basic Korean so you can get around without a problem. 

Taking a deep breath you try not to let your pain crush you and you manage to keep your tears at bay. Even though things are not going the way you planned, that was not going to ruin your plans to live in this country. You are going to make it work and show that bastard that you don’t need him.

****3 months later****

“Hey do you think you can cover my closing shift tomorrow? I have to go wedding dress shopping with my sister.” Minyoung, my coworker asked.

“Yeah that’s fine.” You say with a smile. Any extra income is welcomed especially because rent is almost due and you’re short. 

Working at the cafe part time makes you just enough for your rent, but it’s still not enough. The cafe is close by some entertainment agencies and it’s always filled with crazy hopeful fans and on rare occasions, the idols themselves. It was hard to know sometimes because most of the time they were wearing face masks, but on rare occasions they came in without one. You weren’t particularly a big fan of any of these artists but you could say that they were very talented. Minyoung was your closest coworker and she was extremely obsessed with them. She would listen to their music all the time and talk about them non-stop. It was endearing but you were lost half of the time. She tried getting you into it but you were busy with work and your side job as an English tutor, that you didn’t really have a lot of extra time available. Binge watching music videos and tv performances is a luxury you couldn’t quite afford. 

Your English tutoring was what made it possible for you to survive without having to eat ramen all day every day. It was great because that way, you didn’t have to call your family and ask them for help. Your parents were no longer angry with you, but they were concerned. You assured them that you were fine and everything was under control, even though they didn’t know that you were actually ditched the second you arrived in the country. You were going to tell them, but you wanted to wait and make it seem like you broke up later on. 

Now, however, you were struggling to make ends meet because the family you tutor for left for a two month vacation and you were out of that extra income for that time. So you were more than willing to cover as many shifts as possible, even if it wasn’t the same as your tutoring job. What mattered was that your bills were paid on time, even if you had to eat ramen with Kimchi every day. 

You sighed a breath of relief when it was finally time for you to clock out for the day. Your back and feet were so sore, the thought of a hot shower excited your tired limbs. You bid goodbye to your coworkers as you grabbed your purse and left the building. You saw a huge black van park in front of the cafe and you felt grateful that you were off and didn’t have to help the huge group that was coming in. It looked like the type of vans that idols use, but it could also be a school group or even a church group. Regardless, you were glad it wasn’t your problem and you can go home to relax. Besides, who gets coffee this late? The cafe was practically empty now. 

Your apartment was close to the coffee shop therefore your commute was short. You lived in an older building but the rent was low and your landlord was nice. She was a sweet old lady that helped you out and didn’t treat you differently just because you were a foreigner. She checks up on you a lot and gives you some banchan from time to time, which you always appreciate because her cooking is amazing. 

You take your shoes off as soon as you enter your apartment and sigh at the mess you left in the kitchen this morning before going to work. You woke up late and in a rush to eat some breakfast and make some coffee, so it looked like a tornado passed by your kitchen. You were extremely exhausted and decided that the kitchen could wait until after a nice hot shower and maybe some fried chicken from the place down the street.

After your much needed shower and a clean kitchen, you were able to enjoy your fried chicken while watching some TV. You didn’t watch a lot of Korean TV, mainly sticking to streaming apps like Netflix. But you did enjoy watching the music shows from time to time and tonight was some kind of comeback stage. You watched as the myriad of girls screamed on the TV screen and rolled your eyes at the noise, extremely amused at how they idolized these people. You had to admit that these artists were all gorgeous- men and women, although you knew that the makeup was attributed to it as well. You never knew that men could be cute and sexy at the same time. These pop idols were not afraid to rock some femininity but still managed to look manly and sexy all in one. It was something completely different than what you see back home, but you were not complaining. Before you knew it, exhaustion crept over you and pulled you under without warning. 

*

The second you walked into the cafe you could feel a buzz of energy in the atmosphere that was a little too much for you at such an early hour. 

“What’s going on?” You ask Minuk, taking in the giddy whispers of some of the female staff.

“They’re losing their minds because BTS came in yesterday to get some coffee and they are practically drooling.” He grumbles, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous situation.

“They would.” You shake your head, knowing that Minyoung is going to cry the second she hears that BTS was here after she had gone home.

“When did they come?” You ask the group of giddy girls.

“Literally like a minute after you left yesterday! If only you had stayed a little longer.” Bora answers, she was the one who worked the evening shift with you yesterday and she stayed to close the shop.

“It was so amazing. They’re all so nice and down to earth.” She swooned, tying her apron around her waist.

You chuckle at her dreamy expression, thoroughly amused at the whole situation. BTS are a very popular group so it makes sense that they came to get coffee once the place was empty and they had a low chance of getting mauled by crazy fans. You had to admit that they are very talented and passionate about what they do. Since Minyoung is a huge fan of theirs, she would force you to listen to their music and stream any music video that they would release. You would oblige but you haven’t gotten too into KPOP. While you enjoyed listening to it over the speakers at the cafe, the grocery stores and basically anywhere you went, you weren’t a hardcore fan by any means. You were still trying to get fully settled in this country and your priorities were different right now. Perhaps in the future it’s something that you can get more into. 

The day went by in a rush and you were surprised at how tired you felt once you finally sat down to have your lunch. Well, it was more like dinner because you were all so busy that getting a break was almost impossible. Today was the first day of the holiday drinks and it seems like all of Seoul was anticipating this day because the incessant line of customers just died down five minutes ago. You were closing for Minyoung today and you were working the closing shift with Dara. she insisted you take a break to eat something before she headed home for the night. You were very thankful because you were starving and your feet ached. 

“Okay I’m all done.” You say, coming back from the back room. 

“Did you chew your kimbap at all?” She teased, noticing that your break was way too short.

“It’s fine.” You waved her off, you much preferred to get your cleaning tasks out of the way to make closing easier. 

“You know what I noticed? Since it was busy all day no one ground the coffee beans for tomorrow’s opening shift. I’m going to do that right now before I leave. It should take me about twenty minutes.” She informs you.

“Oh gosh, yes please. We cannot leave without doing that first. Are you sure you want to stay and do it? Your shift is basically over.” You say, not wanting to keep her here unnecessarily. 

“Of course. Besides, it's dead right now and I doubt anyone is going to come in within the next twenty minutes.” She brushes you off and heads to the back where the coffee grinder is. 

Thankful for the help, you decide that you should start on your cleaning tasks so you can get out of here soon too. You were concentrating on trying to get a stubborn stain off a table that you were startled when you heard the door’s bell jingle, signaling someone coming into the cafe.

“Welcome.” You quickly greet, bowing at the customer. 

“Are you still open?” The deep voice asks, his eyes looking at you intently.

“Yes we are, no worries.” You say, quickly walking back to the register. “What can I get for you?” You ask, taking in the customer’s appearance. He is wearing a black cotton face mask so you can’t see his face that well. 

“I’ll have a medium hot chocolate.” He says, looking right at you.

You type the order in the POS system and try not to turn red under the strangers gaze. You are a foreigner after all and you should really be used to the stares by now. One thing is seeing a foreigner on vacation, another thing is seeing them working and living here. 

“Okay, anything else?” You ask, briefly glancing up to look at him.

“Just that.” He answers, shaking his head lightly. 

“Is it for here or to go?” You ask as you run his card for his total.

“Here.” He says and you quickly look up at him. He just stares back at you and you quickly look back down, the heat now spreading all over your face. It wasn’t very often that people would have their drinks in the cafe this close to closing time, but you couldn’t complain. You informed him that you would bring his drink to his table and he thanked you in that deep voice of his.

You quickly got to making his drink and you carefully took it to his table. As you approached, you could see that he removed his face mask and it was dangling from one of his ears. You were curious to see if his face was as attractive as his voice. The moment you were in front of his table, your breath hitched in your throat. He was very handsome, his smooth skin looking beautiful under the cafe lighting; his hair was fluffy and it looked so soft, making you want to touch it.

“Here you go.” You say with a smile, carefully placing the mug in front of him.

“Thank you.” He says, looking right at your face. You held eye contact for about two seconds but inevitably looked away and walked back to the barista station, deciding that it was the perfect time to clean the area. 

You kept glancing back to the table where the guy was and noticed that he would be looking in your general direction and that made you nervous. You hated being watched as you did your job, but he was the only person here.

“Hey, I’m all done with the coffee, I’m going to head out.” Dara says, coming from the back and breaking you from your inner freakout.

“Okay, thank you so much for that.” You thank her, glad that your workload has lessened.

“Oh, I didn’t hear the customer come in.” She says, barely noticing the man sitting at the table. “Oh my gosh.” She suddenly whispered, her eyes as wide as saucers.

“What?” You ask, looking back at the customer and noticed he looked away the second you looked his way.

Dara quickly pulled you to the back, away from his sight.

“That’s Taehyung from BTS!” She whisper-shouted, her body trembling slightly out of excitement.

“Oh. No wonder he looked kind of familiar.” You shrug, his ridiculously good looks now making sense. 

“How can you be so passive about this? He’s BTS’s Taehyung!” Dara shakes you slightly, making you laugh at her excitement.

“He’s just a human being.” You reply, rolling your eyes.

You walk back out to the front of the cafe and almost jump back when you see that Taehyung is no longer sitting down but standing right at the counter. Dara eyes you nervously but says her goodbyes, leaving you alone with Taehyung.

“Sorry about that wait. Is there anything else I can help you with?” You ask, your customer service voice on.

“No that’s all, I just didn't want to leave the mug on the table.” He explains, smiling at you. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. Thank you.” You say, bowing slightly and picking up his mug.

He stood there watching you place the mug in the sink, making you feel self conscious about your actions. You slowly turn to look at him, his soft eyes watching your every move. He held eye contact with you for what felt like an eternity but was probably about five seconds. Before you could break eye contact or say anything, he gave you a cute boxy smile, your heart beating irregularly at the sight. 

“Have a good night.” He finally said and bowed, before turning around and heading out.

“..Um, uhhh, yeah you too.” You mumble, watching his figure walk out to a car that was parked across the street. 

You shook your head and tried to forget the odd encounter, focusing now on locking the door and making this place sparkly clean for the morning shift… which you are working. 

By the time you made it to your front door you were practically dragging your feet, exhaustion wracking your whole body. You went straight to the shower and then straight to bed, too tired to even feel hungry.

*

“You freaking bitch, tell me all about it!” Minyoung screeched the second she walked through the doors of the cafe, which thankfully was empty at the moment. 

“Will you keep it down?” You chastise, worried that customers are going to be coming in while she is screaming and cursing. 

“Dara texted me last night and said that Kim Taehyung, THE Kim Taehyung was here last night! Is that true?” She questions you, wanting all the details. She is a hardcore BTS fan after all. 

“Yes, I didn’t realize who it was until Dara told me.” You tell her, rolling your eyes at her whines about how she can’t believe that you didn’t recognize someone as amazing and handsome and Taehyung.

“Okay but all that aside, I do want to ask you something.” She says after the first wave of customers finally leave. 

“What’s that?” You ask, scared of what she might come up with. 

“Want to come to a BTS concert with me? My friend and I bought tickets a while ago but she can’t go anymore. If you’re interested, you can have her ticket. You haven’t been to a kpop concert yet and it’s a great experience you should have.” She tried to convince you.

A concert sounded like a lot of fun, especially since you haven’t done many fun things since you arrived in Korea. Minyoung is the first friend you made and you haven’t been able to spend much time with her outside of work because you’re always so busy and you need some distraction. 

“Okay, I guess I’ll go.” You give in, smiling at her excited jumping. She promised that you would have a great time and not regret it, which you hope was right. 

*

It was the day of the concert and you were excited to go with Minyoung, even though she was literally going crazy with excitement. She coordinated your outfits in case you got to meet the boys; which you knew was almost impossible but you let her be with her wishful thinking. You felt comfortable and confident in your all-black ensemble, your cute skirt and top giving you a confidence you have not felt in a while, ever since your ‘boyfriend’ ditched you the second you got to this country.

This concert was unlike anything you have experienced back home and you were feeding off people’s energy. Everyone in the stadium was excited and you could feel it in the air and it was contagious. You laughed at the way everyone screamed at the top of their lungs the second the stage started to rise, indicating the start of the concert. The noise was deafening, especially since you had tickets in the pit, right below the stage. Words couldn't describe what you felt throughout the concert. These guys were not just excellent artists, they were amazing performers. The energy they radiated was incredible and you soon found yourself screaming along with the thousands of fans. You were familiar with BTS and knew the name of the different members so it was easy to follow along with the fan chants. There came a point in the concert where the members went to different parts of the stage and they were singing, dancing, being silly and waving at the fans and the cameras. You immediately recognized the member that went to your side of the pit, since he was just at the coffee shop not that long ago. Minyoung was next to you, singing at the top of her lungs while you swayed next to her, smiling at the soulful way she was singing. You were so busy taking everything in, you didn’t notice the person staring at you; his eyes glued to your face and not looking away.

“Omg, look!” Minyoung practically shouted in your ear, your eyes following the direction her finger was pointing. 

You see Taehyung walking in front of your section, singing his part of the song, all while looking right at you. You made eye contact with him and he did not break away. You telt like you were in a trance, his brown orbs so tantalizing you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. You felt as if the earth stood still and the only people in that stadium were the two of you. It felt silly to say, but you honestly felt as if there was an invincible cord pulling you towards him, strong and unrelenting. You don’t know if he felt it too, but the way his brown eyes looked at you, it made you feel like perhaps he did. 

The moment was broken when he suddenly looked away and ran back to his members that were standing in the main portion of the stage again. The beginning of their last song for the night started and you watched amazed as you still felt that strong pull. Was this something all the fans felt? If so, you totally understand now why they’re so loved by them. The concert ended with a spectacular performance and you were surprisingly sad that the concert was over. Perhaps it was time for you to start finding some time to get more into this band. 

“Okay, bitch! What the hell was that?” Minyoung asks excitedly as you walk back to the subway station. 

“What was what?” You ask innocently, hoping she would buy your bs lie.

“Girl don’t play dumb with me, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Minyoung was not having your faux innocence today.

“I honestly have no idea what you are talking about.” You try to play it off but it was no use. You knew she was not going to let you off the hook that easily. 

“Come on, don’t be a jerk and tell me!!!!” She practically yelled, earning some glares from a few of the older people waiting for the subway.

“Okay fine.” You relent. “I honestly don’t know what that was all about, but it looked like Taehyung was looking at me. It could have just been a coincidence though.” You try to brush it off, but your heart was being fast at the memory, calling you a liar because it knew that it wasn’t just a coincidence.

“Yeah, okay, coincidence my ass. He was looking right at you and you know it.” She insists as you enter the subway, sitting down on the empty seats.

“Do you think he remembers you from the cafe?” She asks, eyes twinkling at the possibilities.

“I don’t think so. They see and meet a lot of new people all the time, I highly doubt he remembers me. Maybe it’s odd for him to see a foreigner at a show here in Korea.” You offer, not believing that you were special enough for such a successful man to remember.

“Whatever! There are tons of foreigners at their shows here. Trust me girl, I know what I saw. And if he comes by the coffee shop by himself again, then I know I’m right.” She insists as the both of you get off at your subway stops. 

“Well if you insist, but I don’t think that’s true.” You say with finality. 

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Minyoung waved you off, the both of you parting ways.

You arrive at your apartment and make a beeline to the shower, wanting to wash off the sweat and makeup from the night. Your mind was still buzzing from the encounter at the concert, your stomach fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Your mind told you that it meant nothing, that it was pure coincidence. But there was a small part of you that wondered if he really remembered you and the look you shared meant something more.

You fell asleep still thinking of those brown eyes, their warmth encompassing you into unconsciousness. 

*

It was two days after the concert and you were exhausted from working two double shifts in a row. Dara had covered your shift so you could go to the concert and now you were paying her back. You also picked up an extra shift because you wanted to eat more than just ramen once your rent was paid. It was an hour before closing and Hana had just left since it was a slow night. You sat at a stool and rested your back for a second, your lower back killing you. The cafe was empty and you needed a small break before you started to clean all the tables. Hopefully you wouldn’t get many more customers at the end of the night. 

“Hi, are you still open?” You hear a gruff voice say as they enter the cafe. You stood up at the speed of light and walked back to the counter, embarrassed that a customer walked in and you’re just sitting around.

“Yes, welcome.” You say, bowing slightly. 

You look up to take the order of the customer and your breath hitches in your throat, your eyes not believing the sight before them. There stood Kim Taehuyng, his mask hanging from one of his ears. 

“Hello, can I get a medium hot chocolate?” He orders, a small smile gracing his lips. 

“Oh, of course. For here or to go?” You ask, suddenly wishing that he says to go. 

“For here.” He answers.

After you collect payment, you quickly get to work on his hot chocolate. You notice that he sat at the bar and was watching you make his drink, which was extremely nerve wracking. You take a deep breath and turn around, meeting his curious brown eyes. 

“Here you go.” You say and place the cup in front of him, averting your gaze.

“Thank you.” He says, his soft deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

You get to work, hastily cleaning up the tables and hoping that he leaves soon. He makes you oddly nervous and you don’t know why. It could be the way his eyes seem to stare intently at you, but you can’t be sure. Maybe that’s the type of person that he is and it means nothing. But something in the depths of your stomach makes you feel like that’s not the case. You’re almost done cleaning up the cafe when you hear the stool scrape against the floor, indicating that he has gotten up. You look over, expecting him to be halfway to the door by now but were surprised to see him still standing by the bar.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask, wondering why he is still here.

“No that’s all.” He says, still staring.

“Okay.” You answer, staring back at him. 

The silence was very awkward and you didn’t know what to do so you stood in place. He was just looking at you and you could feel your face getting red, giving you away. Could you be blamed? He is such a gorgeous person, you really did not know how to react to him standing there and looking at you like he’s never seen such a monstrosity before. 

By the grace of all things holy, he finally broke the silence.

“What’s your name?” He asks curiously, confusing you further. 

You stared at him in awe, wondering why the hell Kim Taehyung wanted to know your name. After a few seconds of stupefied silence, you mumbled your name, hoping it was coherent enough.

“I’m Kim Taehyung.” He introduces himself, such a silly thing.

“I know.” You say without thinking, mentally slapping yourself for being so stupid.

He chuckles slightly and you can feel the redness coating your face once again. Great. 

“Were you at our concert the other night?” He asks and you swear you have to be dreaming. None of this is real. 

“Um, yeah?” You say uncertain, not understanding what’s going on at all.

“I remember you. I hope you enjoyed it.” He flashes a heart stopping smile and you swear you have died and gone to heaven. What the hell is going on?

“Yes, um, I had a great time.” You nod, the urge to pinch yourself very strong because you swear this is a lucid dream. 

“Good, I’m glad. I have to get going now.” He tells you and you nod, not understanding what he wants you to do with that information. Of course he has to get going, he can’t stay at the cafe all night.

“I don’t normally do this but, I was wondering if I can get your number?” He asks and has the audacity to look shy and cute and hot all at the same time. Who is this man?

“Uh, ye-yes.” You mumble and write your Kakao id on a sticky note and hand it to him. 

“Thanks.” He flashes you a bright smile and bows, waving goodbye.

You bow back and watch his frame walk out of the cafe and into the night. Slapping yourself across your face, the sting indicates that indeed, you did not dream all that up. It was reality and you had no idea why Kim Taehyung wanted your phone number. 

You quickly finished cleaning up the last few things you needed before finally closing the cafe and heading home. It was a chilly night and your light sweater was not enough to stop the nippy air from hitting your skin. You power walked home and sigh in relief when the warm air thawed out your skin. After your shower, you had some leftover kimbap for dinner and settled on the couch to watch some late night tv. You were so concentrated on the show that you jumped at the sound of your KakaoTalk chime, indicating you got a message. Reaching for your phone, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you see the unknown sender’s message.

KTH: Hey this is Taehyung. Did you get home safely?

You jumped on your seat and blinked your eyes repeatedly, not believing what your eyes were seeing. Was he actually serious?

Me: Hey, yes I did. Thank you for checking in.

You sat on your couch in anxious excitement. Biting your thumb nail, you were staring down your phone to see if he would reply. When did you turn into this person?

KTH: Good, I’m glad. I was wondering that if you are available, would you like to get something to drink tomorrow night?

Oh crap. Is he serious?

Me: Sure, that sounds great.

Your knee was shaking in excitement, the disbelief coming and going in waves. Was this actually happening? What did you ever do to deserve this? 

KTH: Great! I’ll text you the details tomorrow. Good night :)

Me: Good night

You screamed into your pillow, heart racing at the possibilities that tomorrow will bring. You? Getting drinks with THE Kim Taehyung? You don’t know what brought this on, but you will not question it, that’s for sure.