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leth-writes · 3 days

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yandere Steve Rogers x reader (part 3)

A/N: I already posted this on my AO3 a while ago, but I thought I'd post it on tumblr as well.

Summary: A world where yanderes, known as 'protectors', are in charge, and as a result, are able to basically kidnap whoever they want. Steve and Bucky are your best friends, and you assumed they'd offer you some sort of protection from being kidnapped; you were wrong.

Your time with Steve, moving between camps as he went on his propaganda tour, was both better and worse than you thought it would be. You were still stuck in the fuzzy numbness wrapping you up and preventing you from having to really understand the situation, walking through the camp you were currently staying in, somewhere near the Austrian front line, like a ghost. The others were largely quite kind to you, almost treating you like a traumatized child, refusing to so much as swear let alone discuss the realities of their situation anywhere near you.

The only person who you were able to hold any sort of substantial conversation with was Steve. He had finally let you leave the tent for more than meal and bathroom breaks only a month ago, after three whole months of training and slowly breaking you down, and he wasn’t keen on letting you wander off. You only really had time to explore when he was doing his stupid fucking song and dance performance, standing on stage and trying to bolster the audience. You got the feeling the soldiers didn’t quite like him, despite the respect they tended to show you. You guessed that general, paternalized, respect was quite common toward darlings, as they were viewed as incapable of surviving on their own. Never mind you had managed practically your entire adult life up until that point. You could tell the others were jealous of Steve, practically frothing at the mouth at the mere mention of having a darling when they got home; privately, you thought regaling them with tales of darlings waiting at home, desperate and lonely, would be enough to motivate them, no need for Steve’s little show. You wouldn’t tell them; like hell were you making the lifes of the people who betrayed you even an ounce easier.

You had nothing to do, most days. The lack of distractions was steadily driving you insane, forcing you to spend all of your time trying to avoid thinking about your current situation while it was shoved into your face constantly. It was like you were trying to avoid some slow-moving demon, steadily creeping toward you; no matter how fare you ran, it would always be right behind you, ready to overtake you and bury you in emotions you weren’t currently equipped to handle.

One day, while you were aimlessly wandering, a soldier pulled you aside. He was shorter than Steve, standing at around 5’9”, with sandy blond hair and deep brown doe eyes, a soft frown marring his otherwise angelic visage. The uniform practically hung off of him, swallowing his lean body in fabric and causing him to have to roll up the sleeves twice just to expose his hands. It was one of the field medics, you recalled.

“Hey,” He began, looked slightly nervous to be talking to you. He’d always been shy.

“Steve’d never tell you this, he’s too focused on protecting you, but James is missing. His entire unit is just… gone, like they’ve been wiped off the face of the earth. We think they were captured by HYDRA, and Steve’s the only one who can do anything about it. He’s the strongest soldier we have, and I know if you asked he’d be willing to at least try!” he whispered, voice tinged with desperation. His hand was gripping yours tightly, fingers digging into the flesh of the back of your palm as they shook ever so slightly. You could feel the anxiety practically radiating off of him.

Shit, Bucky was gone? Even if he’d betrayed you by helping Steve, you couldn’t handle the thought of him hurt, potentially gravely so, all alone behind enemy lines, dying without anyone there to help him… But what could you do? There was no way Steve would let you help!

Then, an idea hit you; if Steve went off to find Bucky, maybe you could escape! You’d be alone, without him, and he’d be completely focused on the mission; by the time he got back, most likely injured, he’d be so distracted by saving Bucky that he wouldn’t notice you were gone until it was too late! And, bonus, Bucky would be safe as well! All you had to do was convince him…

You thanked the medic, scrambling toward the large tent that Steve and you were staying in. You bound in, a rare smile lighting up your face, and settled in to wait for Steve to arrive.

You weren’t waiting too long. The sounds of the show stopped, and soon after, in came Steve, smiling wanly and glancing around for you. The afternoon gloom washed his face in pale greys and blues, bringing out the slight eyebags and the sharp cheekbones now just barely hidden by the new contours of his face, his deep blue eyes flashing at the sight of you. He was clad in his usual t-shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots combo, the one he usually wore after shows, and he was just barely out of breath, the hint of sweat only starting to appear on his forehead.

“Hey, doll!” he chimed, before coming to a stop at the sharp grin resting on your face. Shit, you were being too obvious. You tried to stamp down on that swelling exhileration forcing your grin to stretch, bringing your face into a more neutral expression. You could only hope he wasn’t suspicious. Looking up at him as he resumed his stride, you could see the lovestruck gleam in his eyes and the soft smile gracing his chiseled features, hair just slightly mussed from the helmet despite his attempts to comb it. He didn’t suspect a thing; he probably thought you were starting to look forward to your time together, that you were finally combing around to your relationship. All the better for your purposes, you supposed.

“Steve, do you know where Bucky is? I want to send a letter to him, finally reach out, you know?” He’d been begging you to do so for the last few months, saddened by the breakdown in communication between the two most important people in his life. His face fell at your words, looking crestfallen. “They think he… he’s dead. He got captured by HYDRA…” And now came your moment to shine, you thought; you needed to really nail the performance, walking that thin line between sadness and desperation.

You screwed your face up, like you hadn’t known he’d been gone, trying your best to look devestated. Tears welled up as you pinched and twisted your arm behind your back, and Steve looked even more upset.

“Oh, sweetheart, no! I’m sure Bucky’ll be fine, he’s the strongest man I know! He’d never let you go without saying goodbye…” He said, sitting down next to you, pullling you into him. Your head rested against his chest as you leant on him, tears staining the brown t-shirt that was stretched over his chest. He rubbed his hand comfortingly up and down your back, though all you could think about was how close you were to putting your plan in motion.

You looked up at him, tears shining in your eyes and lips wobbling ever so slightly. “Steve… I don’t think I can handle losing him! Please, someone has to do something!” You cried, sobbing and burying your face back into his warm chest. He pulled you fully into him, bracketing your trembling body with his arms and gathering you up on his lap.

He clucked his tongue, putting his chin on the top of your head, humming quietly. “I wish I could, but I’ve got orders to stay put,” He said, and you could hear the anger barely concealed in his words.

“Since when have you ever listened to the government, Stevie?” Hook, line, and sinker. He pulled away, shock in his eyes at hearing his old nickname, before determination flitted across his face. The greys and blues of the hazy sky lit up his expression, painting him in their soft hues; he looked like an angered God like this, you couldn’t help but think, eyes stormy and mouth set in a determined line.

He thanked you for your input and excused himself, and then he was off.

#yandere marvel #yandere mcu #yandere steve rogers #lethwrites

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mortedeveles · 3 years

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a whisker away― 1 | HQ Movie Collab!

SUMMARY: After a strange series of events, turning into a cat becomes part of your daily routine, in which you visit your crush- Kenma, every day after school. But he doesn’t know you’re the cat that visits him. And to make things worse, you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep this up before your world spirals out of your control.

PAIRING: Kenma Kozume x fem!reader

GENRE & THEME: A Whisker Away! AU (movie), fluff to angst to fluff, pining. [(two part) ONE-SHOT] [Haikyu Movie Collab!]

TAG’S & TW: Cursing, a bit of unhealthy family dynamics. Mentions of social anxiety, rejection. Some angst, mentions of insecurities and small graphic violence. Reader might come off a bit as yandere-ish/obsessive but she’s just head over heels over Kenma, who’s barely discovering his feelings as well.

WORD COUNT: 5.7K!

A/N: Hey y’all! I’m here with my first Kenma fic :) Which is part of @/hitokas-angel Haikyuu Movie Collab! I’ll link the masterlist in my taglist reblog. This fic is based on the movie A Whisker Away but doesn’t follow the entire plot, and I haven’t written in a while and this is my first time writing for Kenma, so I hope it’s okay! <3 Please REBLOG, like and COMMENT if you enjoy!

Second (and final) part will be out this upcoming week! If you want to be added to the taglist, check my pinned post.

People are a fickle thing, Kenma thinks. And he snorts at the thought, knowing he isn't any better than any of the passing strangers he's walking by as he heads to Nekoma High. But still, there's something about people, about crowds and socializing that makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

People are hard to deal with. If he can barely deal with himself, why bother with others? It's not that he's a sociopath, he does have friends and family he cares about. And he cares about what others think of him. But still, socializing is so intimidatingly hard that he'd rather just avoid it altogether if possible.

Even with his headphones, he can hear the loud blaring of cars, the chattering of people that brush against his arms, and he tries to ignore it, tries to ignore the nervous fluttering that's sprouted in his stomach from all the alternating and overwhelming noises. Whatever, it's just a car honking. It's just a little kid screaming. So he braces his arms as he buries his hands in the pockets of his sweater, feeling a bit more relieved as he spots Nekoma High School in the near distance. He usually walks to school with Kuroo, but his friend decided to be productive today and wake up at four in the morning. The mere thought of waking up so early made Kenma yawn and feel drowsy. His eyes feel a bit heavy, though he knows it's his fault for staying up playing video games, again.

But Kenma doesn't mind the slight drowsiness that courses through his body. In a sense, it feels comforting. Like if the world's been sedated to a more managing level. A world that he can handle without his anxiety bursting through the roof.

A soft mew snaps him out of his thoughts, and Kenma spots a white kitten rubbing across his legs, and he smiles. It has a unique pattern across its fur, with brown and black spots. He kneels down and gently scratches the cat under its chin, and the furry animal purrs and preens with his touch.

As a small sigh escapes his lips, the boy raises his head and stares at the high school building ahead of him. Several classmates are walking past him and he watches the girls with swishing skirts and boys with their boisterous laugh and messily done ties.

Despite a large number of students pouring into the building, the morning at Nekoma High is quiet and serene. Giving the black kitten one last scratch, Kenma stands up and heads inside the building, working his way through crowds. His gym bag is heavy in his hand and his backpack slightly thumps against his back, but he pays it no mind as he exits the building and finds his way into the gymnasium. Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku are already in the gymnasium, the three third years chattering amongst themselves. The gym's doors creaked from being pushed open, and Kuroo's gaze snapped towards Kenma, a wry smile crawling onto his lips.

"Look who got here early. I'm impressed," the black-haired boy crossed his arms, and Kenma rolled his eyes. "You're the first second-year to get here today."

Kenma merely lets out a small grunt of acknowledgment, before trudging towards the locker rooms. He stashes his bag in his locker and then heads out back to the gym, already decked out in his volleyball uniform, but furrows his eyebrows at the sight ahead of him.

Not again. He swallows down an annoyed groan as he spots the all too familiar girl standing with Kuroo, a bright smile painted on her lips as she laughs and talks along with the boy. Why are you here?

"Kenma!" Kuroo calls out for him with a shit-eating grin on his face, "Your super fan is here with a gift." Great. Now he has to talk to you and thank you for whatever you brought. Why couldn't you just take a hint and leave him alone? He thought he made it clear last week when he ignored you as you called out his name and Kenma proceeded to ignore your every word as he raced home.

"Hi, Kenma!" And there you go again, making his stomach twist with your wide smile. Why did you make him feel this way? He didn't like this feeling. "I had some free time today, so I decided to make you a bento box. I hope you like it," you explain before handing over the box, and Kenma ignores the way his skin heats up as your fingers brush against his.

"Thank you," he murmurs but refuses to meet your gaze, hoping you'll go away without another second to spare.

"Aww, aren't you two adorable!" Kuroo coos at his left, and Kenma feels his pride shrivel and glares at the black-haired boy, but he pays him no mind.

Kenma drops his gaze to your shiny school shoes, hearing you stammer and step back nervously, and Kuroo's boisterous laugh echoes in the gym. Kenma lifts his gaze as he watches his best friend approach you and watches as your eyes widen as Kuroo grips your chin.

"If Kenma doesn't appreciate your gifts, I sure will. If you ever get tired of him, give me a call, eh?" Yaku and Kai laugh loudly as you squeak and nod, before rushing out of the gym.

"Poor girl, did you see the look on her face? You've tormented her too much, Kuroo," Yaku says with a disapproving tone to his words, but there's a wide grin on his face that says otherwise.

"Relax, it's all just a bit of fun. You don't mind, do you Kenma?" And the boy turns to look at the blonde, dropping his mischievous expression as he faces Kenma with genuine concern.

"No, of course not." Kuroo relaxes at the boy's response and beams. Kenma turns around towards the benches, ignoring the loud pounding of his heart and the ugly feeling that begins to boil in his stomach.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Despite the searing heat that spread across your face after fleeing from the gym, you'd like to think your mission went pretty well. One, you made it to the gym without chickening out and two, you talked to Kenma without looking like an idiot! And three, you handed over the bento box and it was successfully received.

So you spend the rest of your day at school with a bright smile, the small interaction with Kenma being enough to lift your mood. Soon enough, the school bell chimes softly, and you walk to lunch with your friends, Azumi and Emiko.

While Emiko goes off to the vending machine, her brown hair bouncing with her each step, Azumi and you walk towards a lunch table. But you freeze in your steps at the sight ahead of you. With only a tree and a few bushes separating you two, Kenma and Kuroo walk languidly ahead of you and you quickly duck behind the bushes, pulling Azumi down with you. Before she can protest, you slap your hand over her mouth, signaling her to be quiet.

"Shh!" You peek your head over the bushes, watching with rapt attention. Kenma walks side by side with Kuroo, the taller one gossiping as they approach a lunch table. They sit down at one of the tables blanketed under the shade of the trees, and your eyes widen as you watch Kenma pull out your bento box. He kept it! A small part of you was fearing he would drop kick it at a trash can, but you feel much more relieved now that you see him with your gift. The branches begin to scratch against your forearms and thighs, and your friend grumbles at your side about how the bushes are annoying, but you pay her no mind as you watch almost in slow motion as Kenma opens your bento box and begins to eat. He digs into the food with his chopsticks and you strain your ears to listen as Kuroo speaks.

"Oh? You're eating the bento box Y/N prepared for you?"

Kenma's brows furrow as he rolls his eyes, before continuing to dig into the food, cheeks puffed out with food. He ignores Kuroo's teasing words, and you don't think the smile on your lips can grow any wider. Wow....have you ever felt this happy before? You can't describe the happiness, the joy, and the satisfaction that blooms from your chest and floods your mind at the sight of your crush eating your food.

"Okay," you let out a deep breath as you dramatically fall back on the grass, closing your eyes in bliss. "I can peacefully die now..."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Azumi chides you but falls back onto the grass at your side, and you can't stop the giggle that leaves your lips.

"But it's true," you mumble as you drape your arm over your eyes, blocking off the blinding sunlight. "Kenma took my bento box. Kenma Kozume, the boy I've crushed on for years, took my food! And he's eating it!"

"Nothing else can make you happier, huh?" Your friend says with amusement, and you hum. You push your arm away from your face, and stare at the bright sky, raising your hand upward and partially block the sun's rays.

"There is something else," you murmur, and Kenma's face flashes across your mind. "But beggars can't be choosers. I'll take what I can."

"What do you want?" Azumi rolls to the side and propels herself with her arm, looking at you expectantly. "Tell me."

You glance at her briefly before looking away with a small smile. You gaze at the sky, and you notice a small, burning light that travels across the blue horizons. A shooting star? That can't be it. It's the middle of the day. But you furrow your brows, a small prayer whispered in your head as you respond to your friend.

"I wish Kenma's heart belongs to me as much as mine belongs to him."

Azumi snorts. She rolls her eyes and lays back down on the grass, and you stifle a giggle.

"Well, good luck with that." She murmurs, and you hum in response. You close your eyes and spread your arms on the grass as the wind gently blows across the open area.

"Thanks. I'm going to need it." You murmur mostly to yourself, but then you open your eyes and raise yourself from the grass, peeking through the branches and leaves. Kenma is still scarfing down the food you made and Kuroo drinks some canned juice. And you feel newfound determination flooding through your veins as you turn and beam at your friend, eyes set on your goal.

"I can do it. I know I can."

Azumi chuckles, watching you with an amused smile. She then rises from the grass, stretching her limbs before outstretching a hand towards you.

"Well if it's anyone that can do it, it's you." And you smile. With a small huff, you grab her hand and rise to your feet, feeling much more hopeful than before.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

On the way home, you walk with Azumi and Emiko, but soon enough part ways since you three live on different streets. Humming absentmindedly, you swing your bag in your hands as you walk towards your home with no rush in your steps, feeling as if you have all the time in your hands. Your mind drifts back to Kenma- as it always does, and you smile. You're determined to win him over, but truthfully, you're not sure how. A small sigh leaves your lips, and you begin to pick up your pace when you hear a loud crash from the alley on your left.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you slowly turn around and look into the rather dark alley, feeling your heart pound loudly. Uh oh. This can't be good. But you're frozen in place, and all you can do is watch in slight horror as a large and tall figure stomps out of the alley, slowly leaving shadows as it steps into the light. And you find yourself looking at... a cat?

That is if you can call this...thing, a cat.

Towering over you, the overweight white cat stands on its two paws, black and brown spots littering its fur. Strangely enough, the animal sports a dark blue kimono with a mustard yellow cloak draped over the clothing and a red scarf wrapped around its thick neck. And the weirdest of it all? The cat is smoking a pipe. Rather than being afraid, you're stuck in place as confusion swarms your thoughts.

"Uh..." You stare up at the cat, whose eyes are closed. "Hello?"

"Greetings, human." And the cat exhales a puff of smoke right on your face. Coughing, you furrow your brows with annoyance. "I've heard your prayers, so I am here with an offer."

Oh. Wait, what? How could've he heard your mental prayers? Maybe it was the shooting star- assuming it was a shooting star. But whatever the reason is, you don't dwell on it too much as you swallow and take a step back.

"Which is...?" You wait for the cat to continue. Maybe you're hallucinating, which wouldn't be too crazy to consider. Maybe you've been hallucinating this entire day because God knows it's been too good to be true.

The cat harrumphs, before opening its cloak, revealing a set of colorful masks. Pretty, you murmur to yourself, and the cat chuckles.

"I heard your pleads, and I am here to help. But I'm no love god, so I cannot make that boy fall in love with you. However," he pauses and grins, sharp teeth glinting. "I am the Mask Seller. I give masks to cats who wish to be humans, and I give masks to humans who wish to be cats."

"..." You frown, not liking the strange glint in the cat's eyes. You don't trust him. "And how would that help me win Kenma over?"

The Mask Seller laughs loudly, his belly slightly bouncing. "I have been watching you and the boy for some time now. You, more than anyone, should know why being a cat will change things."

Racking your head for the answer, you go through your memories of Kenma. A cat? Why would being a cat change anything? But then it dawns on you, and a small noise of understanding leaves your lips.

"He loves cats," you rush the words, eyes wide and the Mask Seller nods. "If I were a cat, I could approach him easily, and learn more about him! And then, I could use that information to become closer to him as a human-,"

"You catch on fast," the cat croons, and you nod eagerly. But then you frown. Why is he offering to help you? What does he get out of this?

"What are the conditions? Price? Rules?" You cross your arms over your chest, tapping your foot impatiently.

"No money involved," the cat's low voice has you relaxing, but you still can't let down your guard. This is too good to be true. "But there are some conditions and rules you have to follow. And a small fee."

"I'm listening," you nod in understanding. The cat tugs one of the masks hanging from his cloak, a white cat mask that only covers the upper half of your face, with red and pink markings. He places it firmly in your hands, and then clears his throat. "The mask has a time limit. You can only wear it for one hour and a half per day. After that time, you will turn back into a human. And once my services are no longer needed, I will come to collect the mask. And my fee, of course." The glint in his feline eyes has you swallowing nervously, brows furrowing.

"What's this 'fee' you're talking about? You said I don’t have to pay you money." But the Mask Seller only chuckles before flipping backward, and you watch with a slackened jaw as he spins into the air, before floating down to a pipe and waves at you before swiftly squeezing down the passage.

"You'll see! Enjoy your new life."

And then you're left alone, standing in front of the alley with a cat mask in your hands.

Frowning, you stare down at the mask, turning it around. There's no engraving, inscription, or any indication of where it was made or such. Oh well. With a sigh, you hoist your bag around your shoulder and continue walking home, the cat mask held tightly in your hands.

Once you reach your home's doorstep, you stop. Pinching your arm, you wince at the stinging pain that shoots up your dream. Well, that crosses out one thing. You're not dreaming.

Swinging the door open, you announce your arrival, take off your shoes and kiss your mother's cheek, before racing up the stairs towards your bedroom. You need to know whether the mask will work before getting your hopes up, or if you've been having major hallucinations the entire day. A part of you hopes for it to work. Dropping your school bag on the ground, you examine the mask once again, tracing your fingers over the marks. It's a bit similar to a kitsune mask. Taking a deep breath, you straighten your posture before raising the mask and clasping it tight against your face.

And then it happens. A powerful breeze sweeps into your room, even though your windows are closed, and you feel the world spinning. Closing your eyes tightly, you slowly open them after a few seconds.

Woah. When was your bag this big? Things look a bit different, a bit sharper. And you're definitely way smaller than before. Glancing downwards, you spot your paws. White, soft, furry paws. The paws of a cat.

Oh my God. It worked! You want to squeal and scream with excitement, but all that leaves your mouth is a small, gentle mew.

Oh, right. You're a cat. You can't talk. So instead, you walk towards your balcony, thankful you didn't close it last night as you nudge it open with your head. Once it slides open, you take a step forward before examining your paws. You can retract your claws at your own will. That's pretty cool, you think, but it's time to test them out. Leaping forward, you sink your claws into the cement wall and climb upwards, surprised at how easy it is. Perhaps everything is easier as a cat.

Once you've reached the top of the half-wall of your balcony, you begin to leap on roofs, tread on pipes and sidewalks until you've reached Kenma's house. Ever since you went there for a project in middle school, you've never forgotten his address. Is it creepy? Maybe- okay, yeah, it is creepy, but it's not like you stalk him! You simply memorized his address by heart. Blame it on your love haze from seventh grade, the same love haze that continues to influence your current actions.

You walk around his house until you reach his bedroom window. You wonder what he'll think, seeing a white kitten peeking through his window. Dread boils in your stomach when you realize he might not even be home at all. What if he's still at volleyball practice? You might've come all the way here for nothing.

But much to your surprise, after climbing up to his window, you find yourself staring at him. Kenma sits at his desk, black headphones on his head as he scribbles on a piece of paper. He must be doing homework, you ponder. Deciding to not interrupt him just yet, you look around in his bedroom, observing the decoration.

It's rather simple, with beige walls and a wooden floor. On the right corner of his room, a bed is pushed against the wall with pastel green blankets, and to the bed's left, there's a wooden desk with a PC, as well as several stacks of books, what seems to look like comics, and some gaming equipment.

After you've gotten bored of looking around in his bedroom, you scratch at his window, mewing softly. He doesn't look up, and you find your stomach twisting. What if he just thinks you're a strange stray and ignores you? Or worse, kicks you out of his home? Dear God, you did not think this through. Why did you take that mask again? Your mother did tell you to never accept gifts from strangers.

But before your endless cycle of overthinking can fully commence, your eyes widen as you watch Kenma pull off his headphones and stare at you through the window for a few seconds. You watch his short, dirty blonde hair slightly move with his movements and his slightly parted lips. And you know he sees nothing more but a white kitten, but a part of you hopes that he sees through the magic, and sees you. It's me, Kenma.

Almost hesitantly, he walks over to his window and pulls it open. You sit down patiently and chirp softly once the window has been lifted. Kenma looks rather confused but doesn't say anything as he reaches a hand towards you and begins to gently scratch your chin. That feels good. You purr and lean into his touch, and you hear a soft chuckle leave his lips. Oh. My. God.

"How did you get up here?" He murmurs, mostly to himself and all you can do is meow in response.

You watch as he stares at his closed door, before turning back to you. And then, you feel his warm and soft hands go underneath your arms as he picks you up from the edge of the window and brings you to his bed. Kenma runs his fingers through your white fur, and the heat his body emits is almost comforting and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"You like cuddles, don't you?" He says, with a teasing smile that you've never seen before. If you were in human form right now, you're sure you would've passed out by now.

You let out a soft mew and reach for his cheek with one of your paws, but Kenma laughs as he grabs your paw and squeezes it gently in his hand.

This is it. You've never seen Kenma smile before, much less laugh, and there are no words to describe how it makes you feel. All you can think about is that you need to see it again.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Your life has taken a strange twist, to say the least. After enduring school, you race home and pull on the mask, heading straight to Kenma's house. You spend an hour there, cuddled in his arms or his lap as he plays video games, one of his hands resting on the top of your head. Kuroo has even come over a few times and seems to enjoy your presence as well. Kenma even feeds you sometimes, but most times you refuse, not liking how your stomach feels once you turn back human.

"Mmm." Kenma hums as you lay on his chest, pressing his nose to the crook of your neck, buried between your fur. And you purr, closing your eyes. "You smell like heaven. But I wonder," he leans back for a moment, assessing your frame. "What's your name? Do you have a family?"

"Give it a break, Kenma," Kuroo says at his side, reaching a hand to pet you. His movements are rather brutish and rough and you grumble as he pets your fur.

"I'm sure she has a family that feeds her. You can't feel her bones or anything, she's a healthy weight."

The boy sighs in response, before sitting up on his bed, moving you to his lap. "But I still get worried," he gently runs his fingers through your fur. "Where does she go after coming here?"

You meow in response. I'm fine, Kenma. You don't need to worry over me. He chuckles, raising you to his face, his nose gently bopping against yours. You stare into his golden eyes, wondering how someone's eyes could be as beautiful and hypnotizing as his, and you feel yourself fall a little bit more in love.

"Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Kuroo says as he flops onto the bed, bouncing a volleyball in his hands.

"Yeah," Kenma murmurs, and you don't miss the way he averts his eyes and how his voice lowers. Does he not like his birthday? "It's this Friday."

"I'm gonna get you some apple pie. Let's go to the park after school on Friday, and then we can go to that arcade you like going to." You turn to look at Kuroo. If you were in your human form, you would've been smiling softly. Though Kuroo can be loud and boisterous at times, you can tell that he cares for Kenma.

"Apple pie is good," he murmurs as his fingers scratch your head. "I like it."

Your ears perk up at this as an idea pops into your head. Kuroo's going to give him apple pie, but probably store-bought. Which means you can bake him homemade apple pie and buy him a few more gifts. He'll love it! Seeing that his birthday is only in two days, you spring up from his chest and race towards the window. You don't have any time to waste.

"Huh- wait!" You stop, hearing the sudden surprise in Kenma's words. Mewing softly, you lick your paw and meow one more time before leaping out of the window. That should suffice as a goodbye, right? It's not like you can go up to him and say, "See you later!" You're in the body of a cat, after all.

Once you've dropped down to the soft grass, you begin to make your way home, making mental calculations of what you need to buy and prepare. And you feel giddiness shoot through your chest, butterflies awakening in your stomach. Who knows, maybe the gift will win him over? You can only hope so.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

By the time Kenma's birthday, October 16th, rolls by, you feel ready as ever. Speed walking to school, you're decked out in your school uniform, carrying the warm apple pie in one hand, and a gift bag in the other, while your bag is slung over your shoulders. You can't stop the giddy smile that crawls on your lips, which only grows wider at the sight of your two friends, Emiko and Azumi waiting for you at your designated spot.

"Hey there," Azumi chimes in while Emiko gasps at the sight in your arms.

"Y/N! What's all this?" Her words are chipper and her eyes are wide as you smile and begin to walk towards the school, the two girls at your sides.

"It's Kenma's birthday today, so I decided to bake him apple pie and I bought him some gifts. I hope he'll like them," you feel your insecurities seep in your last words, slightly frowning as you look down at your apple pie. You were a good baker, having done many other desserts in the past, but you can't help but fear that he won't like your baking.

"Wow. You really went all out," Azumi comments and you giggle. The three of you continue to gossip as you walk towards Nekoma High and it isn't long until the school building towers over you. You feel your stomach twist as you take in a deep breath.

Azumi pats your shoulder, while Emiko beams at you and gives you a thumbs up.

"You should give it to him before classes start. Good luck!" The brunette says with a wide smile and you smile back, before marching into the building. Here goes nothing.

It takes you a few minutes to find Kenma, knowing he'll probably be in the gymnasium, but you decide to check some other classrooms just in case. When you can't find him in any classroom, you grimace and speedwalk towards the gym, knowing you're running out of time. You only have eight minutes left before the school bell rings and then you'll have to head to class.

Once you've reached the gym, you slowly push the doors open, silently praying that only Kuroo and Kenma are in the gym.

But your prayers go unheard as a ball rolls right towards your feet, and the boy's volleyball team freezes when they spot you. A small moment of awkwardness passes through before you clear your throat and walk towards Kenma, giving the other boys a tight-lipped smile. Kenma sits on one of the benches, drinking from his water bottle as a sheen layer of sweat rolls down from his forehead. When you stand in front of him, he sets his water bottle to the side and stares at you, mouth slightly parted open.

"Happy birthday, Kenma. I hope you'll like it." You slightly bow before him, handing him over the gifts. He takes them silently, staring at them, and you decide to take this as your chance to escape. Quickly turning on your heel, you half-race out of the gym, feeling your face burn with embarrassment once again. And then you press your back against the gym's wall, catching your breath as your cheeks burn. But then you smile, a small laugh falling from your lips. You did it.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Kenma isn't a fan of birthdays. He'll endure his friend's birthdays and he'll even help with the surprise parties, but there's something about them that makes his stomach churn. Especially when it's his birthday. He's not the biggest fan of celebrating his birthday and he tries to avoid it when he can, but of course, Kuroo won't let it slip by this year.

He's barely arrived at the gym and Kenma frowns as he notices that no one's here yet. The gymnasium is dark and empty, and he wonders if he missed a memo or something. Did they not have practice today?

He sighs, dropping his gym bag on the ground. He'll wait a few minutes, maybe he's early today? But then he hears something shuffle, and he freezes. What was that....?

Then a grumble. Kenma raises a brow, both confused and wary. Is there a ghost or are his teammates pranking him? Neither outcomes sound pleasant.

"...Who's there?"

A sigh. And then, before Kenma can brace himself, the entire volleyball team jumps from the bleachers, shouting eagerly.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Jesus Christ! Kenma jumps in his spot, heart thundering as he processes the situation. Okay, so not a ghost. Just his teammates being annoying as usual. Kuroo and Lev are grinning like doofuses, holding a banner that says, 'Happy Birthday Kenma!' Kai holds an apple pie in his hands, a serene smile on his face, Yaku holds the other end of the banner, and the rest of the first and second years hold balloons and throw streamers into the air.

All of this, just for him?

"What's this?" Kenma murmurs, still wracking his brain as he tries to process his emotions. Lev's about to open his mouth, but Yaku reaches over and slaps his hand over the Russian's mouth, a forced smile on his lips.

Kuroo clears his throat, beaming. "Just a surprise celebration! We wanted to do something special. You don't turn seventeen every day."

And Kenma feels his chest warm, and there's a smile that's threatening to break onto his face, but he holds it back and gives them a small smile, not sure if he can handle so many emotions.

"...Thank you." And he is, he feels thankful and only feels even more thankful as his friends cheer and suddenly rush towards him, embracing him tightly in his arms. He can't help the laugh that leaves his lips and feels serene. Kenma's never been a fan of his birthday, but his friends make it a little bit better.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

The team quickly calms down and begins practice, a few laps, then practicing their spikes and receives. Kenma walks over to the benches and takes a seat as he drinks from his water bottle when the gym doors creak open.

Everyone turns to look at the intruder, and Kenma's stomach squirms. It's you again. And he hates the way his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, and he hates the way it makes him feel.

It's dead silent, and you stand at the door for a second before quickly walking towards him, and Kenma's heart pounds even louder. He doesn't understand you. Why do you pursue him so much? You're cute, he can't deny it. So why, out of all the people in Nekoma High, did you chase after him? And why is it making his heart go wild?

"Happy birthday, Kenma. I hope you'll like it." You slightly bow before him, handing him over the gifts. A freshly baked apple pie that smells absolutely delicious, and a large red gift bag.

Oh wow... He's speechless. He doesn't know what to say. It feels like with the surprise celebration, and it feels like too much. What is he supposed to say? But before he can even regain his composure, you're rushing out of the gym, and Kenma's stomach churns. Oh...

Once the gym doors close with a loud slam, the entire team turns to look at him. They blink, and then they leap. Kenma yelps as the entire team rush towards him, yapping and all of them speaking at the same time.

"Lemme see what she got you!"

"Y/N L/N is so adorable!"

"Kenma, have you secretly been dating Y/N this entire time?!" Fukunaga pipes in, and Kenma finds his face heating up as his eyes widen.

"What?! Of course not!" And then Kuroo's snickering as he sits next to Kenma, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"She's a sweet girl. Why don't you give her a chance?"

He lets out a shaky breath, his poor heart barely handling all the commotion. Kenma definitely needs at least one hour of cuddling with his white kitten after school to recover from all this. He blocks out what his friends say as his thoughts drift off, and he furrows his brows.

Wait a minute. How did you know he likes apple pie?

A/N: Hey!! I hope you enjoyed the first half of this one-shot :)) I totally did not speedrun it 1-2 days before the collab event was live 😭😭I’ve been busy with school and just life in general so I haven’t had much time to write tbh. And plus I’m lazy :,) but anyway! I hoped you enjoyed it as much I enjoyed writing it :DD The 2nd and final part of this one-shot will be out this week!

Please REBLOG, like + comment if you enjoyed! <3

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ally-writes-many-things · 3 years

Text

Kook Vs Pogue (Rafe Cameron) Part 1

Summary: You and Rafe were each other’s booty calls but after something happened, you had broke it off.

Words: 1.6k words

Prompts:

Requested: Yes

Warnings or A/N: NSFW but I don’t go into detail when it comes to the nitty and gritty just the details when it comes to heated make out sessions.

You were walking out of school on your last day ever when you saw Rafe Cameron's brand-new car next to your old car. You also saw Rafe and his friends standing there, even from this far away, you could tell that they were making fun of your car. You rolled your eyes, sighed and walked towards your car. They would likely say the same thing they consistently stated, thinking it was an insult. You made it to your car and Rafe noticed. "Y/n-" You rolled your eyes and stopped him before he could finish. "I absolutely don't care what you have to say Rafe, like I've said in the past. It might not be a fancy brand-new car that costed hundreds of thousands of dollars. All I care that it gets me from point A to point B," Rafe scoffed. "Come on Y/n, you know you care just a slight bit that I have a nice car and you don't," You opened your door to your car and flung your bags on the passenger's seat and looked at Rafe one more time. "No, I don't because I actually purchased this car with my own money and not with daddy's money. The question is though what would you do if Mr. Cameron lost of all his money and you had to move out of the mansion of yours and to a house in the Cut?" Rafe didn't answer. "Thought so," -2 years later- "Shut up, Cameron," Rafe laughed at you as you straddled him. "Come on Y/n. This is something that you would've never thought was gonna happen," He was telling the truth, you never in a thousand years thought that you'd be friends with Rafe, much less hooking up with him. It all started at a party a few months ago, you were looking for some fun that night and Rafe was there that night and things just happened. This was the third time you had done this, but you weren't exactly nervous about it but the more he talked the more unsettled you got. "Yeah I know," Rafe situated you better on his lap and looked at you, he could tell you were still somewhat nervous about it. He bought his face next to your ear and whispered in your ear. "If you want me to stop, tell me now," He gently kissed your ear, when you didn't answer. He kissed your neck. "Or now," The vibration his voice caused against your neck, felt so good that it made you rolled your eyes in pleasure. You didn't answer again. He kissed your jawline and kept getting closer and closer to your lips and right before he kissed your lips, he stopped. "Or-" You wrapped your arms around his neck and roughly placed your lips on his. He tired to kiss you gently, but that's not what you wanted, you wanted roughness. Your hands went up his neck and to his hair and pulled it. That got the point across to Rafe and he grabbed your hips and pulled you hard against him. He reached up your shirt and started going up your body but stopped right before your boobs, unsure if you were okay with it. You stopped kissing Rafe and pulled your shirt over your head. "You can do whatever," Rafe smirked and pulled his shirt over his head. Instantly after that he put lips on your chest and your hands went back into his hair and pulled it again. You two were both a moaning mess when you heard, your front door shut and footsteps coming towards your room. You pulled away from Rafe, and Rafe was about to say something but you quickly put your hand over his mouth. You were supposed to be home alone for a bit and that's why you invite Rafe over. No one knew you and Rafe were hooking up and you wanted to keep it that way. "Y/n? You home?" It was your brother JJ at your door. "Yeah, I'm home. What do you need?" "If I can hear you from down, the hall so can dad. So I'd be more quiet if I was you," Rafe chuckled and tried to talk against your hand. "Yeah, keep it quiet," You just held your hand harder against his mouth. "Okay," You didn't move until you heard his footsteps go down the hallway. Once you didn't hear his footsteps anymore, you dropped your hand and before you could do or say anything. Rafe flips you on to the bed under him as he started kissing you all over your body. -- You woke up to the sound of your alarm going off, you sat up and looked at the spot Rafe was laying in when you went to sleep. He was gone. You would fall asleep before he left and he would always be gone by the time you woke up, which you were perfectly fine. You got out of bed and grabbed your country club work uniform and went into the bathroom and took a shower. After the shower and getting dressed, you walked over to the mirror that is above your dresser in your bedroom and noticed a sticky note on the mirror; "Had fun last night. Love the sounds that I can cause to come out of you," You shook your head and laughed. You put the sticky note in the dresser with the other notes he's left so far. -- It was a pretty busy day at the country club, and it was a lot of: "no sir," "yes ma'am," "I’m sorry, ma'am," "you're right, sir," You were about on the last nerve when you saw Rafe walking in with Topper and his other friends and sits down at the table you were serving. Rafe did it on purpose. He knew which tables were usually yours. You sighed and flipped to a new page in your memo pad and walked over to them. "Hi, what can I get you to drink today?" Topper and a girl named Lonnie looked at each other. "Excuse me, aren't you supposed to introduce yourself to us?" "Topper, we've known each other since we were five, you know who I am," Topper tisked me. "tisk tisk tisk. What do you think Rafe, should I go and get a manager and tell her that one of their servers is being rude?" You looked over at Rafe, secretly hoping he would tell Topper to shut up. Rafe sat up straight and nodded. "I think you might have too," You sighed and put on your fake smile. "Hi I'm Y/n, I'll be your server today. What can I get you to drink today?" "That's better," - You walked out of the kitchen, through the dinning hall and outside to the patio to where Rafe and co were. You sat them all down on the table and looked at the mall. "Are you ready to order?" You saw Lonnie pick up her drink and stood up and then purposely bump into you and spilled her drink all over you. "Oops sorry but you were kind of in my way," You tried to breath in and out but you had enough of these entitled bitches thinking they could do whatever they want because their parents are rich. "You know-" JJ stepped in front of you and stopped you talking. "I'll handle their order. It's time for you to clock out anyways," You nodded and said thank you. You took one last look at Rafe, who was looking everywhere but at you. - You opened your locker and took out your bag. You grabbed one of your extra shirt you keep just for this reason. You took off your apron and threw it on your lock. You unbutton your shirt and threw on your extra shirt. You get why Rafe didn't say anything but him not looking at you? I guess it's true. Kooks only look out for other Kooks, and you were a fool to believe otherwise. With a sigh, you threw your bag back into your locker and slammed your locker shut. You sent a quick text to JJ, telling him to text you when he needed a ride home. You walked out of the locker room and you saw Rafe was leaning on the wall that was opposite of the locker room. You didn't really want to talk to him, but that won't stop him. "Y/n," You ignored him and walked past him. He grabbed your arm and made you stop walking, you turned halfway and looked at him. "What do you want, Rafe?" That made him instantly dropped your arm and took a step back. You had talked to him with this much animosity since that fist night. You didn't mean for it to come out like that but you couldn't help it. You didn't care that he didn't stand up for you. You expected this as much but the fact he refused to look at you? Now that kinda made you upset. "I just wanted to apologize with what just happened with Lonnie," You turned all the way around. "You're not the one who should be apologizing," "I'm not apologizing for Lonnie. I'm apologizing for not saying anything," You rolled your eyes. "You apologize would give it away. I don't care about that. What I care about was that you wouldn't even look at me during it," Rafe gave you a confused look. "Wouldn't that alwasy give it away too?" "No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Maybe, we should just stop all together," "Is that what you want?" "All I know is that Kooks will always look out for other Kooks and no one else and that's fine but I'm not gonna put myself in the situation where I know you'll chose a Kook over me, so yeah, I'm done with whatever this is," Rafe looked at you, away from you, licked his lips as he was accepting what you just did. He looked at you nodded and walked off.

#`#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks season 2 #outer banks netflix #obx netflix #obx #jj maybank

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izusun · 3 years

Note

Headcanon: Izuku is into DIY.

Hot Take: Izuku would create a long furby. He has a collection of various eldritch creepy long furbies. Katsuki absolutely refuses to go into his room because of them. He would've exploded them by now but that would make Izuku cry.

Other CursedTM Things that Izuku does that makes Katsuki die inside and that Katsuki tries to hide from the rest of Class 1-A:

He's a part of the Vulture Culture community and collects roadkill and dead animals to turn into bones.

He has a collection of shitty All Might hawaiian shirts.

He has a collection of stuffed animals. They all have names ripped from Lovecraft such as "Yawgsathoth" and "Mother of Pus"

He writes fanfiction of the heroes.

He has a giant worm on a string plush, and his room is also decorated with Worms on Strings (you have no idea how much Katsuki had to bribe him not to add worms on strings to his uniform blazer)

He does have a plague doctor mask and will regularly just go out in a cloak and his mask

He cosplays exclusively female heroes, and crossdresses the worst dresses

He basically does art makeup, on his face and the face of Katsuki

"Hey what are you reading?" "Oh, this book on how to cook frogs."

He will eat anything. Including stuff that is on the ground. He has an iron stomach.

The actual reason Izuku hangs up All Might everywhere (it used to be a mix of all heroes) is because once in middle school Katsuki accused him of being straight, so he put him up everywhere and continued the habit, Katsuki hates his room now

- Goblin Anon (otherwise known as Goblin anon projects everything she does or wants to do onto her fav)

HI GOBLIN!!! GENUINELY SCREAMED AT THIS AU BECAUSE WTF

even i would not want to enter the beloved’s (izuku’s) room because of his shit.

i’ve searched up long furbys and i am, simply put, traumatized. i had a collection of furbys when i was a kid but we had to give them away because there’s too much of them. but long furbys? i am very much scared.

there’d be a picture of a long furby under the cut, and i’m genuinely terrified of the fucker.

also, can i just say that izuku writing fanfictions is the least cursed thing that he does? because like, reading the rest is like looking at that picture where you can’t decipher a single thing because, again, wtf izuku.

but they’re also funnier? creepier? because i can genuinely see izuku doing those dhekdoowks

✄┈┈┈

this shit would probably be snaking around the frames of izuku’s door. or he probably has one at the corner of his wall, the one that meets with the ceiling, and when a visitor looks up, they’re greeted by the sight of this centipede looking furby that has additional four eyes that izuku lovingly and carefully sewn on. it’s so nightmarish :’)

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the vulture culture part started when they were young. his interest started when he saw a documentary on how to pin butterflies and he was like, “you know what? thats actually something i want to do!” but! BUT!! he cannot catch a butterfly, thus he settled for mounting dragonflies which he collected in the nearby stream (where katsuki fell).

fun fact about mounting dragonflies: they lose colours when they’re dead. you can use acetone to not only help preserve its colours, but also to stop its decay. they decay so quickly, it’s terrible.

anyways, izuku does not know that and instead followed a youtube video of how to mount dragonflies, using an old picture frame as the case.

inko comes home, sees his son doing his stuff and is just happy that izuku’s not rewatching that loud all might video. she helps him pin the other wings and they are fascinated at how pretty they look. well, the next day, the wings are now transparent and the belly side of the dragonflies are black. it also stinks so they had to throw the whole thing plus the case.

izuku’s fascination grows from there.

a failed experiment, after all, instigates the desire to right them.

so that’s where he starts: butterflies, moths, beetles, another dragonfly case.

katsuki is fascinated and disgusted because, “why would you want dead insects in your room, deku?”

the rest began when the bakugou’s and the midoriya’s have road trips. inko doesn’t have a car so the bakugou’s drive along with them, and it’s a good day. the kids are having fun and getting along, and the parents are chilling and enjoying their vacation. life is good.

then on their drive home, izuku, who is sitting sandwiched between katsuki and inko, lets out this blood-curdling scream. it wakes katsuki up and almost had masaru swerving the car out of the highway.

“maru-san (because my boy izuku cannot say masaru) can you please stop the car! i wanna get that!” he screams, pointing at something indecipherable by the side of the roads.

masaru does anyways because it’s so rare for izuku to request something, but also his heart’s still pumping so fast after izuku’s scream.

masaru wasn’t even done stopping the engine when the car doors are opening, and katsuki and izuku are tumbling out, hand-in-hand. masaru and inko follow them closely, while mitsuki stayed to watch over the car.

katsuki’s excited for an adventure, but then izuku just. stops them. in front of a skull.

masaru chokes from behind them and katsuki lets go of izuku’s hand so fast, running back to his dad because, again, “deku what the shit?”

izuku ignores him and gestures at the deer skull, one that has moss growing by the teeth and around the jaw, turning to inko to ask, “mama? can we bring that home?”

masaru feels very faint, but doesn’t say anything when inko easily agrees, laughing at her boy and patting his untameable hair as if your child asking you for a carcass’s skull is normal.

inko picks it up and they go back to the car. mitsuki does a double-take on what inko’s holding, but shushes up when she saw izuku bouncing happily. katsuki hesitantly sits beside izuku, but when izuku began yammering about all might, he forgets about the skull and nerds out with izuku.

inko explains to mitsuki and masaru about her son’s newfound interest, telling them that it’d go away in two years, don’t worry.

it didn’t. instead, his interest and his collection grew. so for his subsequent birthdays, along with hero merch, he has vulture culture collections gifted to him.

when he moved to the dorms, they’re more packaged than his hero merch and katsuki wants to get angry because he’s been looking for those limited hero merch and yet there they are, chilling beside izuku’s many many skulls and bones.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IZUKU STARTED COLLECTING THE ALL MIGHT HAWAIIAN SHIRTS WHEN HE WAS TWELVE

he ransacked for the very first edition, often saving his allowance just so he can buy the retro versions of the all might hawaiian shirts. sometimes he’d barter, but that’s only when he’s really desperate for the shirts. usually he’d just be in an auction site and buy just those.

he’d take katsuki with him and katsuki is very careful in what to buy, often researching the things and having a very long pros and cons list to narrow down what he’d buy, then his best bud izuku just out there buying all might hawaiian shirts.

funniest thing too is that those are the first to go because they? don’t value much? and they’re ugly, tbh, and yet izuku’s slurping them all up.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the first time class 1a were talking about plushies, izuku dropped the names and they’re confused because-

“bro did you name your plushies with lovecraft names?” OR “bro? do you perhaps have personalized lovecraft toys?”

it’s the earlier one but izuku would want to buy personalized lovecraft monster toys.

ok but? he names them as per the appropriate lovecraft characters? like:

a purple octopus plushie is called azathoth.

a green gecko plushie is called bokrug.

a fish plushie (literally nemo) is called dagon instead of nemo.

a pink jellyfish plushie is mother of pus.

he has other plushies that have normal names (well, as normal as naming a plushie “cheese grater”), but he has a collection of specific plushies that align with lovecraft beings.

he writes all might x reader fanfictions, i’m sorry ;v;

he only writes them because he doesn’t want other heroes with all might, but also the reader pairing gets more views than all might with other heroes.

katsuki caught him writing a slowburn, enemies to lovers all might x reader fanfic and proceeded to proofread it for him.

synopsis of the fanfiction: reader is a villain with a sound quirk (tailored to present mic’s quirk) and all might met them in a hero gala where the reader pretended to be a worker so that they could infiltrate the gala’s holder’s office for a specific banking access that is linked to the world’s bank. all might manages to sniff them out and proceeds to fight them, but when a beam is about to hit the reader, all might swoops in and saves them. cue the reader developing unwanted feelings for their greatest foe, all might.

aND THEN!!! all might knows the reader outside of their villain persona and is actually very much taken by them. so it’s a painful surprise that the reader is a villain. but he is willing to save them.

it is still incomplete despite having 102 chapters. by chapter 78, katsuki asked for payment because shit was too long and too angsty.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

HEISOSL IZUKU HAS A WORM ON A STRING DOOR CURTAIN

he genuinely likes them but creating the door curtain kind of extinguished that interest because that’s just too much worms and too much strings for a single curtain, and it was very much tiring.

he has a tiny one stitched on his blazer and inko heaved this really big sigh when she saw that her son’s crisp UA uniform got a worm by the chest pocket.

aizawa eyed it once and was so close to expelling izuku just because of that.

shouto, when they became friends, sends a box of them to izuku because he thought that those are izuku’s favourite. katsuki had not stopped cackling when he saw the huge box of them.

to punish katsuki, he made a furby with worm hair and left it by katsuki’s door. katsuki’s scream woke everyone up.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the moment he walked out with a plague mask, tokoyami was exiting his dorm room too and they made a long eye contact.

tokoyami does not know if he is amazed by izuku’s plague mask or he is terrified because why does it look authentic.

for halloween, he was a plague doctor.

he stowed them away after saving eri.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

his first women hero cosplay was in third grade when they had a play about different heroes. the girl who was playing ragdoll got sick and everyone’s already strapped in as their hero and unwilling to change. izuku, himself, is present mic (katsuki’s all might).

the girls don’t want to give up their heroes and izuku, the bestest boy, goes and says he will become ragdoll.

their teacher agrees and helps him strap in as ragdoll and you know what, izuku loves it.

from then on, he tries to cosplay as much women heroes that he can afford. inko loves helping him and katsuki thinks he is adorable but! dont tell deku!!!

OK BUT he wore the dress that broke the internet once and katsuki almost exploded the dress off him. almost because izuku dodged and warned him that if he ever breaks that dress, katsuki will have to pay (either monetary or revenge, katsuki doesn’t know so he behaved).

FOR HALLOWEEN, HE WORE THIS AND KATSUKI HATES IT

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

izuku painting star freckles on his face!!!! or heart freckles!!!! or flowers!!!!

izuku in fairy makeup, pleaseee!

he also loves giving katsuki his own freckles because something about blonde hair and red eyes with pale cheeks kissed by freckles is making izuku gay panic.

izuku putting concealer on his own freckles once and his classmates are looking at him weirdly, wondering why he looks off?

like he still looks amazing, but something’s missing. it’s fucking them up and katsuki isn’t helping them so they’re trying to piece what’s up.

it takes monoma sneering at izuku and asking where his eight freckles are that 1a realizes why he looks different.

ok but denki asking monoma why he knows how much freckles izuku has and monoma spluttering, bright red and embarrassed, until he just walks away.

(answer: he’s crushing on green bean).

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IZUKU HAVING A COLLECTION OF LIKE ARCHAIC? BREWING? STUFF? BOOKS.

i dont know how to explain it but my friend has this specific book about poisons, detailing recipes and ingredients.

it also talks about the use of frogs, lizards, snakes. the benefits of different flowers (ones with toxins) and how to use them during tea time.

it’s bizarre but the book looks pretty so i think izuku would have a handful of those in his room.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

izuku eating grass? flowers? trying dandelions and complaining that it’s furry

izuku wandering what a twig tastes like so he just sucks on it like a lollipop.

inko gave up on stopping him because her son would just eat anything but his broccolis, and she’s very much tired of thinking if izuku would have an upset stomach. he never had.

first time mitsuki saw izuku do that, she forced him to drink cola and eat candy to cleanse his palette.

katsuki goads him on eating more.

izuku’s favourite is chewing on maple leaves. he’s just a weird boy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

OK BUT THE FINAL ONE ABOUT HIS ALL MIGHT POSTERS?? I HAVENT STOPPED LAUGHINGF

izuku wanting more all might figurines than posters. he only has some chemistry stuff (periodic table) on his wall, a little tapestry that matches inko’s, a canvas of monet’s water lilies (again, matching inko), and some cosmic facts that he bought online.

and yk katsuki sees those and thinks that it’s so weird that izuku has those posters but not all might?

his first thought was, “he doesn’t like all might as much as i do.”

the following one is, “he’s straight so he doesn’t want a guy’s face on his wall.”

katsuki’s mouth so happens to say the second one and the next week he visited izuku’s room again, each surface of the wall that is not taken by pinned insects and his frog-book stuff, plus his other existing non-hero posters, is covered in just all might posters.

he belatedly realizes that his own face is also on izuku’s wall, but that’s for later musings because for now he’s jealous that izuku managed to scourge the limited all might posters, but also is disgusted a bit because that’s too much all might.

katsuki walks out before his interest in all might plummets.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

ps to my beloved: ﹤୨♡୧﹥

GOBLIN I LOVE YOUR AUS ALL THE TIME AND IM SORRY FOR RESPONDING SO LATE! YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME SMILE AND I LOVE U!!!! you’re genuinely so precious pls dont stop your ramblings!!!!

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hyunsuks-beanie · 3 years

Text

It'll Always Be You

Lee Felix × reader; angst, but with a fluffy ending; 2923 words; lovers to exes and back

A/N So Felix has me feeling all sorts of things today, bc of how good he looked during the performance. So here's a scenario for our Sunshine!

"Here's your order and have a nice day," you smile to the female customer in front of you, before handing a pack of cookies to her child. Once the leave, you let out a sigh and look at your best friend who's cleaning the counter next to you. "All done for today!," you exclaim, to which your friend looks up and smiles, before taking off and folding her apron. "So, what are your plans for tonight?," she asks, making you give her a knowing look. She to her eyes before saying, "How long are you gonna stay cooped up inside your house? The break up was two years ago for heaven's sake, you need to start living your life again." "Hey, I am living my life, it's just that, unlike you, I am not interested in going out and meeting new people every day. I meet enough strangers while working here, so there's no need to go clubbing daily," you shrug.

When all she does in reply is pout, you chuckle and say, "Okay, how about we go for a movie tomorrow? My treat." Her face lights up at that, and she gives you a tight hug before saying, "I really want to meet your ex once though, just so I can break his nose." You giggle "Oh he's dead and gone."

Oh, if only you knew.

Once you send your friend off, you start tidying up your little bakery up. This was the place that helped you get over your breakup, which had been messy to say the least. You had immersed yourself fully in your work, because you knew it was one thing that would never hurt you or break your trust.

You sigh lovingly at the memories of setting up and running your bakery, turning your back against the front door. And just as you are reminiscing you hear the door open, causing you to turn. The moment you do so, however, you regret it, because standing there, staring at you wide-eyed, is your ex, otherwise known as Stray Kids' Lee Felix. You both continue to stare at each other for a while, before he finally breaks the silence (and your trance) by whispering, "Y/N."

You clear your throat, and say, "I'm sorry, but we're closed for the day." He rushes to the and hurriedly replies, "Please, it's rather urgent. My friend Hyunjin is really craving some blueberry pie, and he refuses fo join practice before I bring him what he wants." "I told you, I'm sorry, but I can't help you today. You can come back tomorrow though," you say, not looking into his eyes. "Please Y/N, Chan hyung is getting really angry, he's gonna ground me along with Hyunjin," Felix reasons, and you find yourself giving in to his pleading eyes and pouty lips.

"Fine, wait a minute," you say, making him crack a smile. Boy have you missed that smile of his, you think, before mentally slapping yourself for still not being able to resist him, even though he broke your heart to pieces when he broke up with you over the phone two years ago, telling you that he could no longer do long distance with you being all the way in Australia. It wasn't the breakup that hurt you though, it was the fact that he had found someone better and closer to him, or so he said.

Little did you know, though, that the company had he had never really found anyone else, that he didn't want to find anyone else. The company had made him lie to you when they came to know he was secretly dating. He tried to put up a fight, but the company started threatening him about the group facing consequences. He knew you'd see right through him if he told you the truth, so he had to lie to you in order to make you hate him, just so you could move on in life. He meant well, but he never knew he hurt you so bad that you'd give up on dating and love altogether.

"Here you go," you say while handing him his parcel. He thanks you, while contemplating if he should make small talk. Mustering up the courage, he asks, "How have you been?", while looking down. "Fine," you reply, "Congrats on the comeback." His head snaps up at that, as he says, "I didn't know you knew I had a comeback," "It was all over the news, Felix. Stray Kids are really making it big," you swallow before adding, "Your partner must be really proud of you," complete with a fake smile plastered on your face.

Felix winces at your words, not knowing what to say. In the end, he settles with, "How long have you been running this bakery?" "Since about a month after we broke up." When he gives you a confused expression, you sigh and add, "I was kinda already about to move to Seoul when you told me that you had found someone else. I was gonna surprise you, but you ended up surprising me instead."

"Y/N, I-I never knew. I'm so sorry, I-," he says, but you cut him off. "I-I t-think you should leave," you say, with tears threatening to spill. "Let me explain, please. I swear I'll come clean, please, just give me a chance." "No Felix, I can't give you any chance, you blew it up when you hurt me so bad that it made scared of ever loving again. Please.....j-just go," you say, shutting your eyes close. Dejected, he turns around to leave, but not before saying, "I'm sorry," one more time. Once he leaves, you sink down to the floor, crying. "Why did you have to ruin me so bad?," You whisper.

You don't, however, notice that just outside the door, Felix too, is crying hysterically as he gets into his car.

Upon reaching the JYP building, Felix rushes to the washroom to try and dry his eyes and hide any signs that he's been crying. "I still love you. I never stopped, but gosh, why did I have to be such an idiot to let you go? And that too, in the worst way possible?," he says to his reflection in the mirror, thinking back to your broken expression. Slamming his fist against the sink, he curses at himself.

Once he's finally sobered up a little, Felix goes back to the practice room to give Hyunjin his pie. Though he has half a mind to just call in sick and go home and weep, he knows the group needs him. "Here you go, Hyun," he forces a smile onto his face when Hyunjin thanks him. Chan notices his slumped shoulders, but shrugs it off as tiredness. "Now that everyone is satisfied, can we get back to practice?," he asks. Once all the boys agree, rehearsals begin again, but Felix can't find it in himself to focus. He keeps making mistakes, which finally results in Chan stopping the music, grabbing his hand, and taking him out the practice room and to his studio.

"What is it, Lix? You've been distracted ever since you came back from the bakery. Come on, I know something is bothering you, it isn't like you to lose focus. Tell me what it is," Chan says, sternly but gently, his concern for the younger boy evident. "It's nothing, hyung. I'm just tired," Felix tries to evade the question, but Chan presses on. "I'm not buying that, and I'm not gonna have you distracted during performances or practices, either. I can't risk you injuring yourself or any of the boys, so I'm saying again. Spit. It. Out. Leader's orders."

Felix sighs, running a hand through his hair. After a pause, he finally says, "I saw Y/N today. The bakery, it is owned by them." Chan's eyes go wide at this, since he's the only one who knows the circumstances under which you both broke up, and is also the only one who knows about how much Felix regrets letting you go, in the worst possible way. "What happened? Were they....rude to you? Or did they do something?" "What? No hyung, they were nothing but nice to me. We made small talk, and they told me that they were planning to surprise me by moving to Seoul, when I broke up with them. I hurt them so bad that they are scared of ever loving again," Felix says, taking shaky breaths between sentences as tears welled up in his eyes again.

"I messed up so bad hyung, you know I still love them. They're the nicest, most perfect, most lovable person I've ever known, and I damaged them so badly, gosh I feel so guilty," he breaks down again, causing Chan to wrap his arms around him, giving him a shoulder to cry on. Once Felix calms down, Chan says, "You know what you have to do now, right?" "What do you mean?"

"You say you still love them. You say you're guilty. But instead of telling these things to me, you need to tell this to them. Apologize to them, tell them the whole story. Tell them there was never anyone else, and that it's always been them. You didn't fight for them back then, because you were worried for us. But you can fight for them now, because we got your back. Win them back, Lix. Make up for your mistake."

"B-but hyung, why would they ever want to take me back again? I've been nothing but a jerk to them." "Well, in that case, you can't blame them. But they deserve to at least know the truth. They deserve to know that your intentions were not wrong. If they choose to walk away after that, they will at least have had gotten closure. Who knows, it might help them muster the courage to go out and love again. You owe this to them, Lix."

Chan succeeded in knocking some sense into Felix, as the next day, the younger boy found himself in front of your bakery, preparing a long speech explaining why he did what he did to you. He's so engrossed in his thoughts that he doesn't notice your best friend walk out the bakery and stand next to him. "Uhm, are you okay?," she asks, surprising him. "O-oh, uh-uhm, yeah," says Felix, while noticing her uniform, that's identical to yours. "Do you work with Y/N?" "Yeah, we're friends and partners, and on most days, we work together. But they called in sick today, and told me they'd cover the evening shift. How do you know them though?"

To this, Felix finds himself at a loss for words, but he figures if he's gonna come clean to you, he needs an ally. And what better person than your best friend? So he takes down his mask slightly, making your friend gasp in response. "You Felix from Stray Kids! What are you doing here?" "I-I came here to meet Y/N. We broke up two years ago due to a mistake I made, but I need to explain things to them. They deserve to know the truth." He looks up to see your friend glaring at him, as she says, "That was you? You broke my best friend's heart? How could you? I'm not letting you anywhere near them, you jerk"

"Please, just give me 5 minutes, and I'll explain everything to you. Then you can decide if I deserve one more chance." When your friend doesn't say anything, Felix launches into his own version of things, explaining himself and his actions. Once he's done, your friend is still glaring at him, but he notices a smile tugging at her lips.

"You have been nothing but a complete and utter jerk to them. And honestly, you deserve to get your ass kicked by them. But I know that they still love you, and the way you are repenting what you did tells me that you love them too. So I give you my blessing. They'll be here in the evening at 6, be here before then." Felix hugs her super tight at that, with the biggest smile plastered on his face while thanking her. She adds, "But if you hurt them again, I swear I'm gonna murder you with my own two hands." "It won't come to that, I promise."

Felix arrives at the bakery at 10 minutes to six, and the moment he enters, your friend shoves him into the kitchen, asking him to stay there till you come. Once she leaves, he starts pacing up and down, raking his hand nervously through his hair. He tries to prepare what he is going to say, but gives up when he realizes that it would all go out the window when he sees you.

Meanwhile, the moment you step inside the bakery, your friend pretends to be busy setting stuff up on the counter, and asks you to bring in some things from the kitchen. Unassuming, you start walking towards the kitchen doors, when she notices your swollen eyes and exclaimed "Babe, have you been crying?" You muster up a fake smile and tell him that it's just you not feeling well, but unknown to you, Felix heard your friend, and guilt washes over him again. But he doesn't have time to wallow in it, as soon after, you step in.

The way your expression morphs into one of pure sadness breaks his heart into a million pieces, and when you say, "What more do you want from me?" while holding back tears, it takes everything in him to stop from falling to his knees and begging forgiveness. He tries to speak, but you hold up a finger, indicating you aren't finished. "Now that you've found me again, was it not enough for you to have me admit that what you did to me made me stop believing in love? Do you even want to rub it in my face by telling me how happy your are with your partner? If that is so, then please, just get lost, I'm begging you."

Tears are now streaming down your face, and Felix finds himself saying, "Just please. Let me explain. You deserve to know the truth and my feelings and intentions. If after that, you want me to leave, I swear, you will never have to see me again." You can't look at him, but when you don't reply, he says, "I promise that this is the real truth behind what I did. Please hear me out. I lied when I said I had found someone else. There is no 'someone else,' and there never will be one. The only person I've loved, the only person I still love, is you. It'll always be you."

"The company made me break up with you, and threatened me that the group will face consequences if I didn't do as they had asked. I that that if I outright told you the real reason, it would hurt you. And so, I decided to lie to you in order to make you hate me, even if it broke my heart. But never did I ever think that it would damage you so badly, and I know I've been stupid, but I can't help but ask for you to forgive me, and give me one last chance. I know I've been a total jerk to you, and even now, I'm being nothing but selfish, but I just want you to know that I still love you. I'll understand if you want nothing to do with me, and I'll walk away forever. But you deserved to get closure, and I hope that if you do choose to give up on me, you will now be able to love again, and trust again."

By the time he stops talking, the both of you are sobbing hard. You ask him, "Are you done?" When he nods, you say, "You say that you will walk away if I choose to give up on you. But do you really think I'll be able to give up on you? If I couldn't stop loving you even when you broke up with me in the cruelest way possible, what makes you think I'll stop loving you now that I know that you went through the same pain as me? You knew what the truth was, and you still had to hide it. I can only imagine how hurtful that must have been, Felix. I hate myself for believing your stupid lie, for ever doubting the love you had for me. I'm sorry, and I forgive you."

Felix looks up at you, surprised. It takes him some time to process your words, and when he does, he asks you, "What does that mean....for us?" To this, you shyly reply, "Well, I never stopped loving you, and if you didn't either, then should we give us another try?" Felix smiles the brightest he has in ages, as he slowly comes closer to you. Cupping your face, he wipes off your tears, as you proceed to do the same. "I promise I'll never let you go again," he says softly. You giggle and say, "You'd do well to keep that promise," before biting your lip.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?," he asks. You nod in response, causing him to gently place his lips on yours. And for the first time in a while, you feel like you're home.

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ama-kuu · 2 years

Text

Abandoned and Rehomed Chapter 3

Mostly setting the scene and fluff

Brief recap: Abandoned by Dabi, you were found on the streets by Hawks who ended up bringing you home. (LOL this kind of sounds like the courage the cowardly dog intro). Last night with Hawks was pretty soft, just him trying to take care of you.

Also I’m going to change the writing perspective from a Hawks X You (second person) to more of a Hawks X Y/N (First person). Let me know what you think, if I get enough feedback that people don’t like it then I can just revert back in the next chapter.

Link to Chapter 2 if needed

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/ama-kuu/655477351269924864?source=share

Please enjoy 😊

Also read on AO3 if that makes it easier

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31999786?view_full_work=true

A bright light peeked through the thick curtains lining the wall. I groaned while flipping over, essentially smothering my face into the pillow. I reached for Hawks but was blocked by a wall of fluff. Huh?? Curious, I lifted my head to peer over the soft border, the bed was empty and disheveled. In his place was another horde of pillows almost resembling a clustered nest. I couldn’t help but smile with how adorable he must have looked gathering them all this morning. Because I definitly couldn’t remember them being there last night.

Stretching out on the bed, I fought the urge to just curl up and burrow farther under the blankets. However my growling stomach argued otherwise. I rolled off the bed, taking a few of the pillows along with me. The brisk air creates prickles that spread over my body. Quickly, I snatched the flat sheet off the bed once realizing I was still naked from the night before. I tightly secure the sheet around my body and proceed to collect the fallen pillows and return them back to the bed. In a somewhat orderly arrangement.

The room itself was massive compared to what I was used to. But almost had a cold, clinical feel to it. The walls were bare, no decor, no personal touches. Well aside from the collection of pillows I guess. Other than the California King sized bed there was literally nothing. I did my best at arranging the mass of pillows in an orderly fashion, struggling against the unruly sheet that refused to keep me properly covered, before turning my attention to the heavy curtains covering the entire left side of the room.

Peaking through the curtain, I hissed as the light nearly blinded me while my eyes adjusted.

Wow.

I pulled the curtains all the way open, revealing not what I thought was windows but a giant sliding glass door. Beyond it an equally impressive balcony area. One that I could easily envision Hawks doing a routine of morning stretches.

How did I get so lucky? What could he possibly have been thinking when he basically scraped me out of the alley last night?

The thought of him last night referring to me as his pet had my nerves jittery. It was nice… being wanted. Looking around the room once more, I recognized the bathroom door. My face flushed as my heart fluttered from the flashbacks of yesterday. But I moved to what I assumed would be the closet. This time, not so surprised to find the excessively spacious walk in closet or dressing room, I suppose? Like I’m being completely serious it almost resembled a high end store with how his clothes almost were displayed for his personal viewing purposes.

Amongst the clothes hung, several copies of the VERY well recognized hero uniform, and numerous other high end designer brands. I let my fingers graze over the soft fabrics, stopping briefly on some to really appreciate the delicate textures. I eventually settled on a very comfy long black tee along with shamelessly snatching a pair of boxers.

I cautiously glance at the door before removing the sheet from around myself to replace it with the newly obtained articles of clothing. I struggle, big time, working my way into the shirt. The holes in the back panel make it a lot more complicated than intended to navigate my arms and head into. Once on, the shirt hung farther than expected, right at mid thigh, hiding the boxers entirely. Hawks wouldn’t mind me going through his things…. Would he?

I shifted my weight as I mulled my options. Maybe he would feel freaked out at the thought of a stranger going through his things. But on the other hand, he did tell me last night that he wanted to take care of me. My tail lightly flicked at that thought. I then consciously willed myself to stop from twisting the hem of his shirt, before letting out a deep breath. “I’m taking the shirt.” Decision made!

I released the hem all together and exited the closet. Still no sign of Hawks, what if he was having second thoughts, maybe he would also dump me, somewhere I could be someone else's problem. No… No. Deep breaths.

My stomach churned as my anxiety threatened to surface. Everything will be fine. I walked over to the last remaining door in the room, briefly pausing right before turning the knob. My grip tightened as I took a few more steady breaths. It’s okay… It’s gonna be fine, just go.

My ears perked forward as I cautiously opened the door. I peered out to see a wide open area, much like the bedroom, the living room and kitchen despite their grand size was only filled with bare essentials. However it was the large pair of crimson wings that redirected my attention to a very shirtless Hawks standing with his back to me at the stove.

“Good morning kitten! Did you have fun exploring?” Hawks turns around, away from the stove that he’s currently cooking breakfast on. I could see the slightest fluff of his feathers when he saw what I was wearing. Quick to recover he “Well well, glad you're making yourself at home.”

Immediately I feel my face flush in embarrassment, “ I’m sorry I hope you don’t mind” as I pick at the shirt’s hem.

“ Of course not, from today what’s mine is yours.” “Now how long are you gonna hide over there?” A smirk paints his face as he leans seductively against the counter.

I pause and try to take a moment to reset my brain as it short circuits. I stumble forward out of my frozen trance, being pushed gently from behind. Guided by the unseen force straight into Hawks, arrogantly waiting with open arms as I fall into his grasp.

My quirks instincts activate, my ears flatten and I rapidly turn to confront that the force that shoved me forward, a low growl rumbles through me before its forcefully shutdown.

My body froze immediately when I realized it was a small bunch of Hawks’ feathers.

My ears lift rapidly just to droop submissively. "I'm so sorry."

His eyes glared down, his smile dangerous with amusement? Instinctually I shivered against his dark gaze. "I - it was only on reflex."

Breaking eye contact, I directed my attention downwards to hyper-focus on the tiles below.

“Tch” Hawks' immediately forced my chin up, his eyes sharpened. My body on instinct shrunk under the looming threat. His wings flared around us making me feel even more cornered. I froze under him, my lungs seized to function while staring back at him.

"No worries kitten, I'm an understanding guy. But let's not repeat bad behaviors in the future, yea?" His eyes narrowed sharply as I wordlessly nodded in his grip.

“Now, enough of that." He spins back to the kitchen using his wing to wrap around me gently guiding me to a seat beside him. A plate of hot food is placed in front of me, my mouth immediately waters as I can't recall the last time I ate."Here eat, but pay attention, I'm gonna run through the house rules.

I take the fork from him and force myself to eat as if i'm not some starved animal, but hey if the boot fits right? He makes his own plate and leans against the counter across from me.

"One. No answering the phones or the doors. Especially if I'm not home. Two, Don't leave the house if I'm not with you. I don't want you to feel trapped but I have enemies and can't have you be a target.''

I took a break from eating to hold eye contact with him along with a small nod. "If you are bored or want something, tell me… I mean it. I'm by no means frugal and want you to be happy here. Unfortunately all I have now is the TV with streaming services. I'm gonna be away for the next few days so make a list while I'm gone and I'll order whatever when I get back."

I stopped eating after hearing that, "what you're leaving already?”

"Awe don't pout kitten." He reached across to lightly caress my face. " that brings us to number three. I'm going to give you a feather to have at all times. It will be as if i'm not even gone.''

A small downy feather appears in front of me connected by a thin black cord. I froze staring at the cord, my anxiety threatening to surface at the reminder of my old collar.

"Kitten." Hawks was by my side without me even realizing he moved." You don't have to wear it right away. Just as long as it stays with you. in a pocket even.

"N-no, I can do it. I just needed a minute." Very carefully I plucked the necklace from out in front of me. Taking a few deep breaths as I lowered it over my head. Once my fear dissipated, I was surprised at how weightless it was, as if it wasn't even there. I fiddled with the small feather but stopped when Hawks let out a small snicker.

" Ah, sorry kitten, they can be... a little... ticklish. Among other things. But that's for later."

"I really gotta head out though. There's food in the fridge or frozen meals in the freezer. Feel free to explore the house, I meant it when I said “What's mine is yours." He gave me a brief hug and a forehead kiss before taking off from the balcony.

Taglist:

@sunaswife @viol3tcr3am @kunaigirlx44 @tiddie-luvr @evalineplayz19 @gaudesstuff @lostgirlsstuff @eleventhdoctorsangel @villxinmiixx @queenthorin1 @dabis0bitch

For those in the taglist if anyone has not posted your age in your bio, you will not be tagged in any spicy/ 18+ chapters.

#soft hawks #bnha hawks #hawks x reader #feline quirk #abandoned and rehomed #chapter 3 #housewarming

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rcksmith · 4 years

Text

Felling — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi love could you maybe do #38 from the fluff prompts for Five where maybe Five is struggling with accepting the reader trying to be like romantic or affectionate with him !!! Thank you I love you !!!!”

Fluff Prompts:

38. “You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here!!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I loved this request so much! I found it so cute and adorable!! ❤️ I hope it got close to what you wanted. I love you❤️

Here I used some fragments of Five's original chronology because it would help with the plot, but guys, keep in mind, please, that he is a 20 or more.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Just bad words, it is very fluff.

— — — — — —

The Hargreeves were a family full of wounds, trauma and deep-seated fears. They were trained to be super heroes. Strong, courageous, centered, perfect. And that was why no emotion could be on the way to that goal. Feeling love, passion, affection and affection was the gateway to becoming vulnerable. And a superhero couldn't be vulnerable. So they were denied that their whole lives.

Within each one pulsed a different problem, a different trauma. Denying love to a child only made him develop complications to connect with his emotions, feel empathy and be able to deal with different contrasts in a healthy way.

The Hargreeves brothers' lives were not easy, but some of them found, in the beginning, a way to connect with different types of love; Luther and Alissom for each other, Diego for the maternal love, Klaus and Ben in the partnership and complicity for each other. Vayna found her way in love for her brothers when her biggest internal problems were resolved.

But Five... well, Five was alone in the abyss of the apocalypse.

He did not have a chance to mature his feelings, deal with his psychological and transform the various traumas into something productive and healthy. Then, in the midst of loneliness, devastation and chaos, Five just threw his feelings under the rug until, like his childhood brothers, they stopped harassing him.

As they never had the opportunity to mature, those sensations remained on a primitive level. And his complications to bond with his emotions became even more broken when Five had to kill for the Commission.

Facing death and being the author of such devastation was not a mild endeavor. The smell of death was still in the air if Five stopped to concentrate on breathing, and the murder scenes were still fresh in his mind when he slept. But, just as Five did with any feeling, he just pushed them under the rug once again.

He didn't want to deal with them. They brought, for Five, pains, fears, weaknesses and a constant reminder that, perhaps, he... had failed in many things. And Five hated seeing himself as a failure.

And that was when he came home. And even when the waters have calmed down, when the winter breeze gently touched his face, when he can rest, dealing with feelings was something he still repudiated.

But that's when Five met you, and his whole world was turned upside down. When you first looked into his eyes, fierce, warm heat swept through Five's body, from the top of his head to his toes. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat.

Five thought it was just a second of madness, in which his system had given a blue screen for something else, not for you. But as soon as you smiled at him, there was a quick feeling of being stabbed near the diaphragm or in the belly. His composure didn't waver an inch, but he felt like he couldn't breathe.

The situation took on unimaginable proportions. You are going the Hargreeves mansion a lot times , since, what has been said, you were friends with the brothers, and Five lived lost in an agitated sea of exasperating feelings whenever he was near you.

You were brilliant as the sun, smiling as happiness, beautiful as masterpieces and stunning as the evening. You were the personification of…Perfection, was the Five thought at the time. And it almost broke his heart, because he could never have you for himself.

Five couldn't because, as much as he refused to admit it, wouldn't know how. He couldn't because the whirlwind of emotions was a fierce scream that caused a stir in his mind. Five looked at you and saw a masterpiece - sublime and human art at the same time - and he didn't know how to name those emotions. And now, unexpectedly trapped by the intensity, Five was unable to reason properly when he was close to you.

All he could see was an excessively beautiful girl who was standing in front of him as something he wanted very much. And if you understood the state Five was in whenever you talked to him, you would have stopped at the first sentence. No, if you really understood, you would end up running as fast as you could. But you could not understand what Five did not understand.

So he preferred the loneliness of the apocalypse to those emotions that made him feel hot and cold at the same time, which seemed like his stomach was filling with birds, all beating their wings and trying to escape, and then his hands started to shake.

Five didn't know what it was all about, a mixture of emotions; attraction, passion, an overwhelming desire to touch you. But even if he knew how to name it all, he wouldn't know how to act. Five was a genius, he could solve the biggest equations about space and time with his eyes closed, but as a lover, however, he put his feet in his hands.

Five never thought of the most tender emotions without coldness and objectivity, they were great to justify the actions of human beings. But you have revoked absolutely everything.

Over time, it started to hurt physically in Five not to touch you, not to succumb to the most overwhelming wills. And then, one night he took refuge in a bottle of vodka, you walked in the door and it was the end for Five. He got up from the bar, came to you in determined and firm steps, and, sending everything to hell, held your face in his hands and kissed you as if he wanted to do this for a lifetime. Maybe more.

You were the opposite of Five. It was as if you were the heat and he was the ice, day and night. You burned like summer heat and Five burned like winter cold. You were everything Five was not: extroverted, agitated, knew how to deal with emotions very well, you were passionate, caring, loving, you loved physical contact. So when you returned the kiss, Five felt himself burning with your warm touch.

You wrapped your fingers around the black strands on the back of his neck, letting him put your bodies together and the kiss started to heat up. And then you said:

“You're beautiful.”

And that's where Five fell in love with you. He fell in love because when you took a breath and looked into his eyes when you said that, he felt like you could see the depths of his soul, all the secrets, all the sins, all the fears. You knew him, deeply.

Five was no longer able to stay away from you after this event. He always chose your side at a table, he was very less acid in conversation whit you were. And when you two played chess, and he let you win on purpose just to see your happy smile and your eyes shining, he knew was in trouble.

While Five tried to deal with so many new emotions and so many traumas, you were the opposite. You have been in love with him for so long, even when you saw his painting on top of the fireplace, you felt something different. So when you two kissed, came closer, you let your feelings out.

You were a loving person by nature, you loved hugging people, physical contact. You were an incorrigible romantic and, to be honest, you loved being like that. You loved feeling too much.

So with Five it was no different. You liked holding hands, hugs, more tender kisses and also quick hello kisses or bye. You loved touching physically, either way. But being like that taught you that many people didn't taste the same as you. And in the case of the Hargreeves, so broken and lost, dealing with feelings was not easy, especially to express it physically.

But with Five it was… more difficult.

He was very reserved, controlled, closed. You felt perfectly when he went rigid whenever you touched him: any affection on the arm, kiss on the cheek when you had to go to college, hugs.

You started to think that maybe he didn't like you that much or didn't want something serious, but Five was always looking for you. Whether showing up at your apartment, in your room, or going to be near you at the mansion or kissing you. So you ended up realizing that he just didn't handle feelings well.

It was very cold that night, you were in your room with the books and college notebooks on the bed, trying to solve some calculus equations, otherwise you would end up repeating in that subject. Your head was already pounding and you were getting frustrated, it was definitely not for you and your desire was to hit your head on the book and give up.

“What a nightmare.” You mumbled.

“What a nightmare?”

The voice at your side made you scream out in fright, turning to the left and seeing Five standing on the edge of your bed. The distilled moonlight came in through your open window and bathed the man in front of him with a builder in his black hair and alabaster skin, you held your breath, Five was always so beautiful that he should be considered a crime.

His hands were in the pockets of his dark pants, followed by the shirt and blazer from the Academy uniform. Five looked at you with a small condescending smile in the corner of your mouth, and you felt your heart pounding.

“Ah, it's just a college subject.” You sighed, looking at the notebooks in front of you “It's a nightmare.”

Then Five leaned forward, looking closely at your notes.

“You know where you went wrong, don't you?”

You jaw dropped, and you turned to the notebooks with your calculations. That was the only exercise that you thought was correct.

You felt frustration rising from your feet to your head, snaking through your body. You snorted, running your hand through your hair, it had been hours since you tried to understand that misfortune.

“I will never graduate, that's it. I accept the defeat of the God of mathematics.” You grunted, leaving the pencil on top of the books, giving up.

Five laughed softly, sitting beside your bed, still far enough away not to touch you.

“Give me the pencil.” He pointed to the object and you handed it over.

You frowned when Five pulled your notes to him, balanced the pencil in your other hand and redo your calculations at the end of the sheet.

You should have paid attention to what Five was doing, at each step, but the truth was that you got lost looking at him. The winter breeze shook his black strands as if they were a cloth from the night sky, his emerald green eyes were focused, and a slight crease on his forehead indicated that he was concentrating.

Your heart raced, the world seemed to stop breathing and the air took on a caustic and magical intonation. You would show all your shadows if Five showed his, you would do anything to show how sublime he was.

Then Five looked up at you, and the hemisphere seemed to make sense that second. So you leaned over and kissed him. You kissed because there was no cell in you that didn't want to kiss him. Because Five was a young god and you were just a mortal surrendered to his charms.

But you felt his muscles go rigid, the spontaneous physical contact catching him off guard.

Five burned in contradictions. It burned in the hot fire of passion and burned in the icy heat of feelings. Your touch was potent and had an overwhelming effect on Five.

He wondered what would happen if he had sex with you at that moment. Would he burn in your heat or would he be consumed by troubled emotions? Would he feel every part of your body pulse or would he lose himself in the confusion of his own mind?

Five gently parted his lips, still close enough for his breath to hit your lips.

“I feel your tension. Everything is fine.” You commented quietly.

Five just breathed, his eyes confirming to you what his words didn't say.

“I'm sorry for everything you've been through.” You were sincere, and cautiously put your hand under his. “But you have to understand that it’s normal and good to feel emotions. It's okay not to understand them. Feelings are not like math.”

Five felt your touch become more present, and you gently approach. He should have said something, but his body started to contradict his mind and he got lost in a blue shambles. He desperately wanted you. Wanted to fuck you until feel you completely and kiss you until taste love. But he also wanted to get away. He wanted to go away and push all those feelings and emotions under the rug.

But when you sat closer to him, and your hands cupped his face, Five realized he couldn't leave.

“How would you react if I did that..”

Then he noticed your mischievous smile, and before he could say anything, you held him more firmly, and filled any part of his face with kisses that you could reach.

You laughed between Five's kisses and protests. But you only stopped after the twentieth kiss. Five was marked with your lipstick, his eyes closed for you, his face in a warning expression.

“Y/N!” He grunted, wiping his face “Are you crazy?”

But his cheeks were red and you could feel his temperature high from where you were.

You laughed louder, settling on the bed.

“.You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.” You pointed at his cheeks, waved your index finger between them, signaling.

Five frowned even more, trying to wipe the lipstick marks off his face. But slowly, a little smile was struggling to come to his face.

“You are smiling!”

“You are so childish!” he rolled his eyes, but his voice was soft.

“You love Me!” Then you threw yourself at him again, kissing his face where the marks had been cleaned.

Five grunted, but ended up just resting his hands on your waist, feeling ... relaxing.

When you stopped laughing and looked at him, Five held his gaze. Gently, his right hand went to your face, removing a lock of your hair from your eyes.

“I think you're right.”

His voice was low, like a summer breeze, and yours eyes lit up when you understood the meaning of what he was talking about. But Five didn't give you time to answer, he leaned over and captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

You love him too.

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 4 years

Text

If you leave - bodyguard/royal au part 2

^ that counts as a request right? Angst below, I don’t know what fluff is anymore but I think there’s a sprinkle of it somewhere... I think.

Prev | Next

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“Baby let’s dance.”

If you closed your eyes you could almost imagine it was Jimin’s voice, but you don’t want to think about him now, that’s not why you’re here in blinding lights and deafening music, you want to forget, you need to forget.

“Not with you,” you say to the man that approached you, walking away to the bar for another drink. Stupid fool didnt realise he unlocked another memory of them, you’d need something more in your system to get it out.

But when you closed your eyes you could see him, reaching out his hands to you, eyes disappearing with how much he was smiling. “Dance with me princess.”

Memories that made you feel warmth now bought you so much pain, since that day you both felt hollow and as if there was a heavy weight on your chest, you didn’t know how to explain it. It just hurt, and you thought it would get better with time but it didn’t. It got worse.

So you didn’t mind the hands on your body when you danced into the night, you didn’t mind the hangovers in the morning, the pain in your head dulling the ache in your heart just a little.

You feel arms wrap around you from behind as you take another swing of your drink. Whoever he was he felt muscular, tall, but you don’t care. It isn’t until he rests his chin on the top of your head you realise he feels like Jungkook and your heart beats back to life again. You close your eyes and let them hold you, pretending for a second that it was your Kookie, that he’d move to rest his head on your shoulder when you ignored him like he always did, squeezing you harder, pouting until he got your attention. You let yourself dream for a second, even though you knew when the illusion shattered the black hole in your chest would expand tenfold. Like it always did when you let yourself pretend.

You could feel tears start to form in the corner of your eyes, you couldn’t do this, the man behind you must’ve felt your discomfort because he suddenly backed away. You hear a ruckus behind you but you don’t give a shit, he’s not Kookie, he’s not any one of the men that can make this go away.

You’re about to take another sip of your drink until you feel the weight of a hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You know that hand, your eyes are fixed on it, your breathing becomes shallow and rapid as your gaze follows the hand to the body it’s connected to.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” What’s he doing here, he’s the one that decided to leave you, why does he care what happens to you?

You don’t know if you’re refusing to speak or if you can’t with how much his presence has put you in a daze, you can see the way his jaw is clenched the way it always did when you tested his patience. Good, let him be angry, let him feel a little of what you were.

He pulls you to stand and follow him, grip unrelenting and pace unforgiving. You try to get out of his hold but Joon pissed was a different force of nature, you wonder what he was doing in a place like this.

It isn’t until you’re outside you see Yoongi standing with his back to the car, they’re both in uniform, they must’ve been on their new job when they found you. You pretend that doesn’t sting, you don’t care it’s their job how dare they replace you when you felt their absence each and every day.

“You’re not my bodyguard anymore Namjoon, let me go,” you’re quiet but you’re seething.

He slams you back against the car, the only feeling coursing through his system was rage and it mixed with every other emotion he was feeling at this moment; worry, guilt, his heart breaking.

“Where the hell are your bodyguards Y/n?” When he finds them he’s going to put a fist in their faces repeatedly for letting you get into this state.

“Don’t have any,” you’re smiling now but it’s unnerving, it’s fake and it’s nothing he has ever seen before on your face.

“What do you mean you don’t have any?” Yoongi sounds calm, but that’s how you know he’s as angry as Namjoon.

“Why the hell do you both care? You left me,” it shouldnt sting the way it does when the words are out of your mouth, but it somehow manages to hit all three of you.

“Princess, answer the question.” Why does your heart hurt more when Yoongi calls you that? Why does it feel like he’s taking your breath away and suffocating you with his calm demeanour, like he really doesn’t care even though his words should prove otherwise.

“I’m not your burden anymore, so leave me alone,” you glare at them both with all the strength you had left, feeling your body shake from the cold and the anger seeping under your skin. “I dismissed my bodyguards but that’s none of your concern.”

“You did what?” Namjoon is trying to control his rage but your words are causing it to grow. “How could you be so stupid? Do you have any idea the amount of danger you’re putting yourself in? Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep you safe and you’re throwing all our effort in our faces by being so fucking reckless!”

You always hated it when he told you off, you could feel the tears start to form again and Namjoon watched as your doe eyes looked up at him with the anger fading and the hurt revealing it’s way through. Shit, he was too harsh, but you were being an absolute idiot. All of them have been worried sick since they left you, unable to perform the best at their job, they all agreed after you no more long standing positions, so they only did small security gigs or transferring a client for a day. They missed you so much and here you were throwing yourself into every danger like a big ‘fuck you’.

“Why did you leave me?” Your voice is so small and the sheer hurt in it caused his anger to drop out of his body. Yoongi had to look away, he hated it when you cried, they all did.

They didn’t feel like they could hold you the way they used to, so much had changed, and yet all the feelings were the same.

“Princess we had to go,” he tries to explain. “We couldn’t keep you safe because of how much we lo- w-we cared about y-”

“No Joonie if you cared about me, you wouldn’t have left!” You were so angry and upset you were crying but you still yelled your words, you needed them to hear you and you’d make sure they did. “I thought I meant more to you than just a charge but you proved me wrong the day you walked out, because if you cared about me you’d fight to keep me safe, but you didn’t.”

You don’t care if you’re a sobbing mess in front of them now, you don’t care if you look weak, they had to feel what they did to you, see the consequences of their desicion.

Namjoon can’t say a word, how does he explains to you the guilt he felt that day, the only rational choice was to leave you in the hands of someone who could protect you the way he had failed. You came above all else, he couldn’t trust himself to keep you safe anymore.

“Do you know how hard it was for us to go,” it’s Yoongi that finds his voice. “We didn’t want to leave you Princess, we didn’t feel like we had a choice.”

“Bullshit!” You contended. “There’s always a choice and you made yours.”

You hug yourself to keep yourself together because in front of them both you can feel yourself begin to shatter.

“You left me when I needed you the most, and I won’t forgive you for it.”

If you tore into their chests and ripped out their hearts it would’ve hurt less. Yoongi sighs in defeat.

“Okay Y/n,” Namjoon could feel his eyes go red with the way he’s holding back his own tears, he and Yoongi were not ones to cry but he can’t miss the telltale glistening in the older man’s eyes, and how they mirrored his own with regret. “Let’s just get you home.”

“No I haven’t had enough to drink,” you move off the car and try to make your way back but there’s a strong hand holding you back by your arm.

“I think you’ve had plenty to drink,” Yoongi says while opening the backseat door.

How do you tell them you needed more so you’d black out tonight, otherwise your dreams would be filled with them.

——————————————————————————

The ride was quiet, no one wanted to say a word. The only break from silence was when Namjoon called Jin to ask him to meet you all at your place with a medical kit and you insisting it was not necessary.

They didn’t listen, but what was new?

It’s not Jin that meets the car running, but the youngest of your ex bodyguards with Jimin very close behind.

“Princess?” Jimin couldn’t believe your state, you looked like a mess. He helped you out of the car swallowing his own emotions.

Jungkook stared at you with his big eyes in shock, and you wanted the ground to swallow you up. You couldn’t meet his eyes, you could see a his own concoction of emotions swirl in them like a cocktail from the glimpse you got. Disbelief, anger, sadness, his Princess looked so broken.

When the decision was made to leave Jungkook was the one to fight it, he was the one that tried to convince the others it wasn’t a good idea, that you needed them and they needed you. He looked at Namjoon with so much anger but that could wait, he needed to make sure your were okay first.

He strides his way to you, picking you up like the Princess you were when you struggled to stand and carried you to the house.

“Kookie I can walk,” you mumble, but you felt so warm in his arms, you didn’t want him to let you go. You missed him so much, you missed them all.

“What the hell happened?” Jimin’s voice when he was angry was nothing like his usual tone, his voice became deeper and lost its musical ring.

Yoongi waved him off, starting to get a headache from the whole thing, “later.”

They take you to your bedroom where your life was turned upside down, Jin, Tae and Hobi were waiting for you there. They must’ve tidied up, you left the place in a tip.

Jungkook doesn’t place you on the bed, he sits on there instead not letting you out of his arms. The glare he sends the others is very clear, try to take her off me.

You’re starting to feel drained, the earlier screaming match completely wore you out, and you were feeling the effects of sleep deprivation. You don’t even realise how you’re leaning into Jungkook, but the position is familiar, like a key in a lock, and you can feel yourself drifting.

“Princess we need you to stay awake just a little longer okay?” Tae crouches down to meet your eyes, you can see the sadness in them even though he’s keeping a straight face. He can’t help but reach his palm out to feel your flushed cheeks, he wants to tell you he’s missed you, that they were all lost without you, but he knows it would hurt you more than they already had.

“Tae I’m tired,” you whine a little, the defences dropping now your body felt safe, your brain couldn’t catch up with the fact that you were still angry with them, you could almost pretend the last few months didn’t happen.

“Let her sleep, we’ve put her through enough,” Hobi sounded so serious from where he was watching you, back leaning against the wall, arms crossed like a teacher waiting for the class to settle. When Hobi was angry it scared you the most. Tae nodded at his hyungs words, offering you a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes before moving away.

“First take these Princess,” Jin holds two pills in his palm and a glass of water, he brings them both to your lips, gently coaxing you to swallow. He wipes away the little spill you made down the side of your mouth, letting his fingers linger there for a second. He hasn’t been this close to you for so long, he doesn’t want to move away, but he does.

You nuzzle closer to the body holding you, clutching onto his shirt as you finally succumb to sleep. You can feel a cheek pressed against the top of your head, a promise written in the way he holds you tighter against him, but you were too far gone to decipher the words in the warmth of his arms, so you let your dreams take you instead.

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

Outside the Lines

for @archivalpride month! the prompt was ‘sharing clothes’ so I decided to add on a bit to my More than Enough archives polycule fic. you don’t need to read it beforehand, though. 2.2k words, cw in the tags.

Jon likes Sasha’s clothes. Particularly, her cardigans.

They’re warm, oversized things in pastel colors, chunky cable knits and ancient pullovers, smelling faintly of jasmine and sandalwood. There’s always one draped over the back of her chair at work, at home. Sometimes a pile of them.

“Just in case,” she said knowingly, when Jon mentioned the teetering pile on the back of her office chair.

“Of what, a blizzard?” he replied archly, to which she had no response.

But Jon runs cold, so it makes sense that he’d like them. And eye them. And eventually, borrow them.

“You look good in pink,” she said casually, walking by him cozily wrapped up, surrounded by books for his latest case. “You should wear it more often.” Jon just grumbled in response.

It now sits on the back of his chair.

Point is, they’re not strangers to sharing clothes. Once they move in together, the lines blur even more. Jon’s scarves become hers, her jackets become his. It’s nice when the someone’s scent begins to remind you of home. Embarrassingly, he’s come to think of it like a hug when she’s not around. Perhaps she feels the same way, but Jon’s not going to bring it up. He’s not that maudlin.

“You need to stop me from online shopping,” she groans one day, dropping a pile of clothing into his lap that must have been from the newly-arrived and altogether giant box he found on the steps of their flat. Jon had raised an eyebrow as she guiltily hauled it to her room and got to work. “I swear, I don’t remember ordering half of this.”

“Far be it from me to get between a James and her phone,” he replies, picking through the pile of utterly un-Sasha-like clothing. It’s all floaty tops and tiny skirts, nothing like what she usually gravitates toward. She certainly has more...adventurous tastes, when she’s intoxicated.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you at all,” Jon retorts, picking up the most offensive piece from the pile with his thumb and pointer finger: a muted brown, and yet somehow sparkly miniskirt. He raises a judgmental eyebrow. “Really?”

“I was not in my right state of mind, you know that.” She ran a hand over her face, refusing to look him in the eye. “Anyway, see if there’s anything in there you like. Otherwise, it’s all going back.”

Jon very much doubts there’s much in here for him - not a chunky knit in sight. The tops aren’t too bad, but a bit too sheer for his liking, and if he’s going to layer, he’d rather be comfortable than fashionable. He pushes the pile off his lap when something catches his eye. Buried beneath two very loud shirts is something black, with bits of lace. He pulls it out to find a simple black dress, high-necked with pearl buttons and slightly puffed sleeves. It’s modest, but covered in a delicate lace pattern. His grip tightens incrementally. “You don’t like this?”

Sasha peeks her head around the corner. “S’bit short on me. You should try it on, though. It’s cute.”

Jon flushes. It’s something he might’ve worn in uni, when he and Georgie made a night of it and Jon had just enough liquid courage. Now, though, it doesn’t fit with his professional persona and strict uniform of blazers, vests, and button ups. He needed to be taken seriously, and he didn’t feel he could do that if he was...experimenting, as his grandmother would phrase it. His hair he still wears long, the only vestige of that life he kept. “Oh,” he responds automatically, “I couldn’t.”

Sasha blinks. “I think you’d look really nice. Put your hair up, maybe add some earrings.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” She comes behind his perch on the sofa, gathering his hair up in her hand and pulling it from his face. “Leave a few pieces out, y’know, artfully messy.” She takes the dress and pulls it up against his body. “What do you think?”

“Um, maybe,” he barely manages to whisper. It feels nice, right. He can see it in his mind’s eye - it looks very him. Not feminine or masculine, just pretty. Just Jon. “I’ll think about it.”

He thinks about it. The dress hangs in the back of his closet, untouched and passed over many a morning. He tried it on and Sasha had been right- of course she was, she’s good at that sort of thing when not inebriated. Maybe one day he’d wear it out - not to work, but to drinks or something.

Maybe.

It’s not until months down the line that he tugs it out, on one of those days where he feels like his body doesn’t make sense and names sound wrong in his ears. Drinks with Tim, the newest recruit to their department. Hard won drinks, if Jon might add; Tim was just starting to open up to them. He tugs the dress over his head and digs through a plate on his dresser for the long silver earrings Sasha gave him last Christmas. He studiously avoids the mirror on his way out the door, throwing his bag over his shoulder and standing in the doorway, as if waiting for Sasha’s reaction.

This was a bad idea, he thinks as his palms start to sweat. You look ridiculous, you shouldn’t have- his thoughts are interrupted by a gentle hand tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. Sasha smiles at him.

“Oh, you’re perfect.”

Tim thinks so too.

----------

“Oh man, I’ve got to get rid of that.”

Tim motions to the blazer in Sasha’s hand. “Hasn’t fit me since uni. Y’know, when I got these guns.” Sasha rolls her eyes as he makes an exaggerated motion with his arms. They’ve been cleaning out Tim’s apartment for the past few hours, she and Tim in the bedroom while Jon sorted through his books in the living room. She suspects he’s doing more reading than sorting.

“Why’d you keep it, then?” She holds the hanger up, smoothing the fabric out with her hand. It’s heavy, quality fabric. A shame to get rid of it.

“Dunno, just one of those things,” he shrugs, throwing another pair of joggers onto the bed. “It was expensive, but I only ever wore it to interviews for internships and the like. You can toss it in the donate pile.”

She hums idly, making no motion to get rid of it. She’s rather fond of blazers, has quite a few in her collection. They’re nice when she wants to be a bit more dressy and professional. A woman’s outfit can occasionally be her armor, particularly in academia, and nothing says ‘take me seriously’ like a nicely fitted jacket and skirt. Never mind how it makes her feel. But this is very much a men’s blazer, barely a nip at the waist and with nothing to outline the curve of her body. And yet.

She shoves it in her bag. If she doesn’t like it, she’ll throw it out.

_______

When Jon and Tim are tucked in bed, she tries it on.

She doesn’t know why she’s being so secretive about this. It’s not like Jon and Tim will care, it’s just clothes. Lord knows she’s encouraged Jon to wear whatever he wants, and there’s no surefire way to get Tim blushing like wearing one of his pullovers. But there’s something that feels a bit transgressive about it. She was generally drawn to more feminine looks, growing up as a tall girl there’s an inherent (perhaps taught) idea that making herself look smaller and delicate would make her more appealing. Appealing for what? She always wanted to ask. But she knows the answer now. It’s taken near a decade to get the slouch out of her posture and to get comfortable wearing heels.

It seems silly to feel so cowed by a blazer. She’s thirty years old, unmarried and living with two partners. She stopped playing by the rules a long time ago. Her hands shouldn’t be shaking. For Christ’s sake, just put it on.

She slips her arms into the sleeves, pausing to inhale the leftover scent of Tim, his laundry detergent and the after shave he occasionally wears. Her entire body warms, like stepping into a bath. She slips the rest of it on, pausing to adjust the shirt underneath. When she looks in the mirror, she can’t help the grin that fills her face. She looks good. Her broad shoulders fit the line of the jacket perfectly, her curves hidden and barely even suggested by the cut. It is decidedly not feminine.

She likes it.

It takes her twenty minutes to drag herself from the bathroom and back into bed. She lies awake through Tim’s light snores and Jon’s murmuring, filled with a strange, nervous excitement. It’s just a blazer, she thinks to herself somewhat giddily. It’s just clothes. But when she throws it on that Monday morning and steps into the kitchen, she starts to think it might be more than that. She walks a little taller, feels a bit more at home in her skin. Tim choking on his orange juice when he sees her is just an added bonus.

��Glad you kept it,” he stutters out, once he manages to stop gaping.

She’s glad too.

______

Martin’s sitting on Jon’s bed, watching as he runs a brush through his hair.

Jon’s hair is lovely, long and shiny. His own he keeps rather short, though the curls are getting a bit unruly these days. When he was a child, his mother insisted he keep it long, just like she insisted on a great many other things. But he shed all of that, got as far away from it as possible. And yet, eyeing the silvery tray on Jon’s dresser, he has to admit he’s curious.

It’s full of delicate, pretty accessories- hair clips and necklaces and earrings. Jon’s like a magpie, collecting shiny things; though this collection is mostly gifts from the three of them. It’s a little dance they like to do- Jon sees something in a store, stares a little too long, insists he doesn’t need it, and eventually it ends up in their flat.

Their flat. He’s still getting used to it. He’s never felt at home anywhere, but he’s starting to think he has one now. Listening to Jon hum as he cooks, Tim reading aloud from his recent article deep-dive, Sasha butting in with a comment - these are all good things. The background noise to his days that used to be filled with silence.

And he’s never been around people so at home with themselves. Martin is so used to putting an effort into how he presents himself in the world, he’s never enjoyed being misconstrued. A strange, delicate balance of pride in who he is at war with a desperate need to be understood and accepted. Palatable. Easier to put yourself in a box with clear labels than to deal with the confusion and the questions. Any passing thought or fleeting impulse that goes outside the lines is dismissed.

But nothing about his situation now is easily labeled, to be honest. It’s hard enough explaining his relationship status to others, though Sasha has a little spiel ready to rattle off at a moment’s notice. They’re all so comfortable with each other, with themselves. It makes him both a bit braver and a bit more afraid.

While Jon scurries off to flick through his closet, Martin gets up, walking over to the collection and picking up the small moth broach he’d gotten him on one of their first dates, before Tim started to come along. The memory brings a smile to his face.

“Oh, it’s lovely, Martin.” Jon had immediately pinned it to his jacket, before reaching down to grab a bag at his feet. “And ah, actually- I got something for you too?”

A little Highland cow plushie. So he had been listening to his rant on Scotland the other day. It still sits in place of pride on his desk.

“Do you want to try one?” Martin jumps at the sound of Jon’s voice, dropping the pin unceremoniously back into the pile as if he’d been burnt. He turns around, prepared to voice a thousand excuses, a knee-jerk reaction.

“No, it’s-”

But Jon’s already sorting through the pile with clever fingers, hand lingering over a thin barrette with a tiny, gold flower. Pretty, simple. Martin’s hand itches to reach out but he draws it into a tight fist. Admiring is one thing, but actually wearing it-

“C’mere.” He thinks he should refuse but instead he leans down, lets Jon’s fingers wind their way through his hair and feels a settled weight against his head.

“There.” Jon smiles. “That’ll do quite nicely.”

He looks in the mirror. Oh.

It’s barely even noticeable, just a small clip bringing the longest of his curls behind his ear. But Jon’s right. It looks nice. It goes with his hair and it doesn’t feel feminine or wrong, just a comfortable weight against his head reminding him he belongs, he’s loved. And that Martin’s still himself, even if he steps outside of the box every now and then.

“You don’t have to keep it in if you-”

“No. I like it.” He straightens his spine, tilts his head. Smiles. Jon smiles back.

Yeah. He likes it.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31803076

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tommybaholland · 3 years

Note

may I have some hcs for how noya, suga, suna, and maybe??? tsuki (I didn't see him in your list of characters you currently write for, so I wasn't sure if you would write for him if I requested him, so I understand if you don't) react to their s/o who's in a sports team (in high school if possible unless you prefer to age them up I understand!) too (I'm not specifying/choosing so other readers can feel included!) injuring their knee during practice, but not taking it seriously and they just limp around everywhere instead of going to the doctor or trying to do something to feel better. I went too hard on badminton practice yesterday and I literally cannot bend, or put weight on my knee right now so I'm just limping around cause I'm too scared to ask my mom if she can take me to the hospital sjjjdjshs. Don't be like me pls🧍‍♀️as someone who's injured several muscles over 2 times I am begging to take this seriously if you ever get injured, I hope you're taking care of yourself!! :))

when their s/o tries to hide an injury

featuring: nishinoya, sugawara, and suna

yes, unfortunately, i don’t write for tsukki right now, but here are the other three :) i’ll let the writing do the talking, but take it easy and i hope you feel better soon!

nishinoya

he’s probably the least observant and that doesn’t mean he can’t take a hint when something’s wrong with you

but he usually doesn’t find out about it until after something happens

you two have quite the playful relationship and are no strangers to playing fighting or jumping onto each other

one day at school, he snuck up behind you to hop onto your back as he often did

and normally you wouldn’t mind and can handle it because he’s as light as a feather

but today your back didn’t take it so well as you let out a strained gasped at feeling his weight put pressure onto it

“hey, my beautiful, sweet, gorgeous-- hey, are you okay? did i hurt you?”

you knew you were going to have to have this conversation with him eventually but of course, you were too late

you wince as you try to stand up straight again, explaining that your back was already hurting from practice

“oh, well, then you should probably go see the nurse. can’t have you hurting, gorgeous.”

you promise him that it’s okay and you probably just need to stretch it out later

he hesitantly accepts your answer, but worries about you all-day long

it makes him usually quiet

so he decides that he can’t let you tolerate your pain

on your way to the gym after school for practice, you find him waiting outside

“you can’t practice today, babe.”

you actually get a little annoyed at him for trying to tell you what you can and can’t do

“oh, you’re fine? okay, then-- oops, i dropped my pen. can you pick it up for me? it’s closer to you.”

you knew where this was going

but your back said otherwise and you barely hinged forward before it felt like someone was literally stabbing you in the back

“see? you can barely bend over. i’m taking you to the nurse or a doctor or something so you can get better.”

he grabs your hand and starts leading you away when you stop and ask him about your practice and volleyball

“i talked to the coach before you got here and they agree with me. i can miss one day of practice. the rest of them would probably do the same for their s/o and besides most of them still suck at receiving so they can practice that and serving at the same time!”

you still don’t look convinced so he brings you closer to him by tugging lightly on the bottom of your school uniform

“don’t worry, beautiful. i got it all sorted out, okay?”

you finally nod and he seals his promise with a small kiss

“listen, you’re my strong, beautiful, gorgeous, smart s/o and i love you! i’ll try to pay more attention to you but i need you to let me know when you’re hurting..”

he couldn’t let you get away with a small scolding bc his oblivious ass loves you too much

sugawara

he observes but tries not to make a big deal out of it or bring it up in a confrontational way

you had a slight limp on the way to school and on the way home with him after both of your practices finished

he invited you over to hang out for a bit before your curfew and he notices that you struggled a little to sit down next to him on his bed like you were in pain

“sugar, are you alright?” he asked, his hand rubbing across your back

you tell him you’re fine

“okay...are you sure? i’m pretty sure you’ve been limping this entire day and just now it looked like it hurt to sit down.”

you admit that your hip has been bothering you ever since practice the day before and you thought it would just get better over time

“well, how bad is the pain?”

it’s not too bad, you think

he has you lay down and he tries to examine you a bit himself

“does it hurt when i lift your leg like this?”

he slowly tries to lift it to a ninety-degree angle but a sharp pain shoots right into your hip

you wince and tense up at the pain

he frowns as he immediately puts your leg down, “it’s only your hip, right? your knee doesn’t hurt or anything?”

you shake your head, still tense from the pain that it’s causing you

he lays down next to you, rubbing a soothing hand up and down you arm, “aww, i’m sorry it hurts so much, sweetness, but-- wait, you didn’t go to practice like this did you?

well, the karma was certainly hitting

he sighs, “babe, why would you-- never mind, i think you need to go see the doctor.”

that’s when the tears start to fall

he pulls you into his arms upon seeing your tears, “i know you don’t wanna go, sweetheart, but you need to get this checked out. i just hate seeing you in so much pain and they can help you feel better.”

you hate the doctor

it just makes you just feel like more of a helpless burden

“you’re not a burden, sugar. this looks serious and you shouldn’t be in so much pain. i don’t think we should let it go any longer so let’s get you bundled up in some of my sweatpants and that one sweater you like. i’ll take you and be there for you the entire time, okay?”

gives you a few reassuring kisses and lets you lay there with him for a bit longer before you get ready to go

he would never let his sweet s/o suffer and always stays true to his word

and you bet that he’ll be there when you’re confined to bed rest, making sure you’re not overexerting yourself so he can see your beautiful smile again

suna

he’s the most observant out of these three and won’t hesitate to ask about it

he didn’t see you much during the day at school but he walked you home almost every day after practice and usually ended up staying for dinner

so he always had that to look forward to

he was surprised when he got a glance of you outside the gym earlier than normal

and he really got curious when he saw how off-balanced and wobbly you seemed

you waited outside for him, not wanting to interrupt practice

you had skipped your own practice that day, seeing that nobody knew you had hurt your knee

but you knew suna would find out eventually so you were just trying to figure out what to tell him

“hey, so when were you going to tell me that you’re hurt?”

he was so quiet and stealthy that you didn’t even notice him standing there with all his stuff, ready to leave for the day

he was never less than confrontational

“and don’t try to hide it from me, babe. i can see the limp in your step.”

your knee has been hurting since practice the other day and it wasn’t getting any better

“i see. have you tried icing it or anything?”

the habitual blank expression in his face had turned downward as you shook your head

“baby, how many times do i have to tell you? you can’t just let things like this go. it’s not good for you.”

you tell him not to tell your parents or make you go to the doctor because it doesn’t hurt that bad

“of course. i can’t make you do anything, but let’s at least try putting some ice on it and elevating it first, okay?”

you agree and then he tries to pick you up, insisting on carrying you all the way home

“babe, i can do it. i’ve got a strong core, remember?”

you’re still refusing him like, ‘pls chill, i’m not dying’

“okay, but hold onto me when you need. and here, do you want to wear this? it’s a bit cold out.”

he gives you his team jacket to wear

you begin walking and you realize you’re more unsteady than you thought

he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, and has you wrap an arm around his shoulders so he can steady you a little more

once you get to his house, he gets you all set up in his bed with ice and your leg propped up on a few pillows

then he makes sure you’re all cozy with plenty of blankets and him snuggled up beside you

he doesn’t look like it but he loves to dote on you even when you’re being stubborn <3

hold on haikyuu night!! there’s more if you want to request..

#haikyuu x reader #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya fluff #nishinoya headcanon #sugawara x reader #sugawara fluff #sugawara headcanon #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna headcanon #tommybaholland

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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years

Text

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 1

Read on AO3. Part 2 here.

Summary: You’re a Lieutenant, stationed on Orinda. You’re content with your trustworthy crew, but issues with a certain ship (spoiler alert: it’s the TIE silencer) end up trapping you on the Steadfast, instead. Your relationship with Kylo Ren isn't how you left it. How many more messes can you stand to clean?

(Yes, this is the sequel to Fix Your Attitude.)

Words: 4500

Warnings: None. Yet.

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: Umm... hi!! I don't have much to say other than I'm very excited to post this, and I really hope you enjoy it! I love you all so much. I'm genuinely lucky and grateful to have you in my life.

You weren’t ready.

Since the alert had come in that the First Order would be sending a transporter to Orinda, your hands had been jittery. There’d been no indication, no hint as to what your team should be expecting when they arrived. In the four months since you’d arrived at the fuel post, you hadn’t received a single visitor from the brass.

“Hey, Chief.”

The voice called you as you were chest-deep in a pile of fuel-cells. Grunting, you wrenched yourself free, patting the reactor dust from your uniform. Certainly there was some in your hair, too.

“Hey, hi Tonis, what’s up?” You tried to restrain your anxiety to the perimeter of your mind. “Can, uh, can I help you?”

Tonis, your third engineer, sighed, wrangling his hands together as he looked to the ground. “Do you know what’s going on with this transport unit arriving?” His thin lips twisted in a frown. “They’re saying that they might be shutting the post down.”

“Oh, jeez.” You shook your head, grabbing a rag from the terminal and wiping your hands. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he said. “Good. I really, really, really don’t want to be moved. Again.”

Grimacing, you looked at your reflection in the terminal facade. “I know.”

“Orinda’s really great,” he said. “All the different ships we get to work on. And it’s so quiet. And our team is so great--”

“I know.” You mussed your hair, as if shoving dirty fingers through it would improve its appearance. Incredibly, it did not. “They’re only sending three people. I’m sure it can’t be that big of a deal.”

“But that’s the thing!” he said. “Don’t you think that a transport unit with only a few passengers must be here for something super-official?”

Your chest seized, and you cleared your throat, turning back to him.

“Maybe.” You ignored the hot burn of your cheeks. “Guess we’ll see when they get here.”

The terminal blipped, a familiar pattern that indicated the atmosphere had been breached. It’d been awhile since you’d felt like you had the power to summon anything of importance with a single thought. The reminder tweaked your heart.

“Or… I guess we’ll see now.”

Tonis squealed, running through the post. “Hey! Hey guys! The First Order’s here! The First Order’s arrived!”

Sighing, you looked into the terminal again. Four months hadn’t changed your appearance too much. Not that it mattered. Or it might. But you wouldn’t worry about it. Only a little.

You steeled your nerves and walked out of the hangar into the dusty outcropping of the fuel outpost. Flat land stretched for miles in diameter from your station, a rolling pitch of blue mountains in the far distance, the wind whipping across the plains, rustling the dry grass. Shielding your eyes with a hand, you gazed up and spotted the transporter, a blooming black spot in the cloudless sky, quickening the pace of your pulse with every passing second.

It was just a transporter. He wouldn’t be on it. There was nothing to freak out about.

Tonis had gathered the rest of your massive crew--all three of them, him included--and they surrounded you, faces taut with anticipation.

“What do you think it is, Chief?” That was Mirna, your second engineer, a short, wide-set thing, with buzzed hair and a gruff voice. “You think they’re shutting the place down?”

“She already said she doesn’t think it’s that,” Tonis replied.

“Well, yeah, but then, why are they just sending three people?” said Lin, your mechanic.

“There’s plenty of reasons they could send three people,” Tonis said, as if he hadn’t just been agonizing over that very issue just minutes ago.

Mirna snorted. “Like what?”

“An announcement,” Lin said. “Maybe they’re canvassing all First Order planets.”

You nodded, chewing your cheek. “Sure. That could be it.”

“Or maybe it’s a survey!” Tonis was almost wiggling with excitement like the little nerd he was. “Does anyone else love filling out those weird surveys?”

“No, nerfherder,” Mirna teased, grinning. “Just you.”

“Could be an escort.” Lin shrugged. “Maybe they’re here to pick someone up.”

Mirna laughed. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Who in the stars could they have an interest in on this planet?”

Blood blazed your face. “It’s a mystery.”

You hadn’t told anyone since arriving what had brought you there or why you’d come. You hadn’t told them when you’d first landed that you still had the cum of the Commander of the First Order leaking out of your cunt. You hadn’t told them that just hours before, he’d held you in his arms, brought you into his mind, and shown you--with a breathless, crushing tangibility--how utterly and completely he loved you.

You hadn’t told them, either, that in the days, weeks, months following your arrival, you hadn’t heard from him at all.

With a dying wail, the transporter hovered and landed, spitting up a ring of dust that smacked you in the face. You sputtered, wiping your eyes, the rest of your crew apparently victims too. Frowning, you crossed your arms, brow cocked as the ramp whined and descended. Something akin to fear needled your heart in the empty space between the sound of footsteps and the emergence of two Stormtroopers stomping to the ground.

Something that was definitely fear gripped it as those two troopers were followed by a man you’d hoped to never, ever see again.

“Engineer.” General Hux had somehow lost none of his smarmy, pink-cheeked smugness--his refusal to say your name was out of petty spite at this point. And his face was just as punchable as you remembered. “I see you are, for once, prepared for our arrival.”

“What sort of facility chief would I be if I didn’t stay on top of our arrival queues?” You hid your hands behind your back to hide their quaking. “Though I believe my rank is Lieutenant, now, sir.”

“Lieutenant,” he replied, with the same amount of disdain he’d probably afford a crying child. “I imagine it’s the lack of distraction.” He smirked. “I loathe to think of the productivity you would’ve had on the Finalizer with a similar environment.”

“Oh, as do I, sir.” You offered him a gleaming smile. “I can’t imagine a punishment worse than being in your good graces.”

“Chief,” hissed Mirna. “That’s a General of the First Order. What are you doing?”

Cursing internally, you pinched yourself, stood straighter. Your team would have no idea why you felt so comfortable mouthing off to a man who, otherwise, might’ve had you thrust into the bowels of space by now--and to be honest, you didn’t have much of an idea why at this point, either. Your presumed protection was hardly a current presence in your life.

You shook your head, wagged out your hands. “Let me try again, sir.” Clearing your throat, you continued, “General Hux, sir. To what do I owe the honor?”

Hux smirked. “As much as I hate to interrupt, Lieutenant,” he said, continuing to let the word drip with more venom than a snake ever could, “I’m here to order you to come with me onto the Steadfast.”

“The Steadfast?” Obviously the name of a ship, but not one you were familiar with. No news bulletins had made their way to Orinda in the time you’d been stationed. “Why?”

“The Supreme Leader’s TIE fighter has ceased functioning. Every engineer we’ve brought to it has failed to diagnose the issue.” His jaw tensed in real, actual reluctance. “We were at the border of the Rim, and unfortunately, I thought of you.”

You blinked. He wanted you to work on Snoke’s TIE fighter?

And then another question: Snoke had a TIE fighter?

“Uh…” Frowning, you glanced around at your crew. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving them for days on end. “How long will I be gone?”

His face betrayed nothing but pure disgust. “As long as it takes you to fix a TIE fighter.” He watched as you paused in thought. “I wasn’t offering you a choice, Lieutenant. We’re leaving now.”

With that, he turned on his heels, marching up the ramp. A long, slow breath left your lungs, and you turned to your team, scanning their faces for any reaction. To your surprise, everyone but Tonis seemed rapt in excitement, eyes wide and chins wagging in awe.

“I had no idea you were such a big shot!” Lin grinned. The other two nodded in agreement.

Blushing, you rubbed your arm in embarrassment, looking between them. “No, no,” you said. “Nothing like that.”

“You have to tell us the story, one day.” Mirna was smirking.

“Uh… Right.” You coughed. “So, hopefully I’ll only be a day or so, max,” you said. “Mirna, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

“You got it, Chief,” she said. “Tonis, my first order is for you to please calm down.”

He shot her a glare. “Good luck, Chief!” He offered you a salute, which was both strange and unnecessary. “We’ll be thinking of you!”

Warmth spread in your chest. “I’ll be thinking of you guys, too. Don’t make too big of a mess, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” they replied in unison--and then broke into laughter.

You shook your head, finding yourself laughing with them. “Okay. See you guys soon.”

Bowing your head, you trudged up the ramp into the transporter, taking a seat far away from Hux and the two Stormtroopers. You wondered why he’d bothered to bring them to a tiny outpost like Orinda, but you supposed that self-importance and paranoia knew no bounds in the higher ranks of the First Order.

As the door closed to the transporter, your heart wrinkled. In the past few months, despite your open ache, Orinda had become your home, your crew had become something akin to your family. You hoped the issue with the TIE fighter was something stupid, like a busted hyperdrive. They were simple to repair, but most engineers wouldn’t mess with lightspeed travel--the mechanisms were so delicate that even a simple mistake could result in splitting the ship.

The transporter rose into the air, and in seconds, it burst into the sky. A windowless cargo meant you could only imagine the faces of your crew as you disappeared into the horizon. You sighed, watching your feet as they jostled with the jerking of the ship. You weren’t sure what the Steadfast was like, but apparently Snoke had moved his operations there. Though you still had no clue what Snoke looked like, you’d never imagined him to be the type to fly--but perhaps a Supreme Leader required multiple skillsets.

The awkward ride finished without a single word being exchanged between you and Hux, which was fine by you, and possibly finer by him. When the ramp lowered, he speared you with his gaze, waiting for the troopers to exit before standing and ordering you to follow him with only his eyes.

You tromped down the ramp into the hangar on the Steadfast--it looked almost identical to the one on the Finalizer. The ceilings stretched high, like a giant’s mouth, the magnetic shields glowing teeth at the lips of the bay. Ships buzzed above you, racing in and out of their docks, the floor crowded with soldiers and officers alike.

The rush hit you--sure, the time on Orinda had been fantastic, engaging, rejuvenating. But it would never match the thrill of working in the presence of fleets and fleets of warships, surrounded by the heady spell of urgent, prestigious labor. You sucked it through your nose, held it in your chest, unable to stop your eyes from lingering on every busted ship they saw. In the distance, a team huddled around the smoking wing of a TIE fighter--you bit your lip to prevent yourself from racing over, from tearing it apart for them.

Another thing you weren’t able to stop looking for was any hint, any presence of the Commander--but in the bay, you didn’t even catch evidence of the Command Shuttle. It was a huge assumption to guess he’d be on the Steadfast to begin with, but part of you hoped he’d trailed his precious Supreme Leader to any place he was ordered. It figured that the one time you might have been within thinking distance, he’d managed to make himself scarce.

Another twine in your heart snapped, joining the collection that’d been unfurling since you’d departed the Finalizer.

Yes, he’d said he would find you. You still believed him now, even.

But really. What was taking him so damn long?

Hux led you to a wide dock toward the very front of the hangar. The crews you spotted along the way seemed detached, working without words, communicating with gestures and mirthless expressions. Tonis’ silly salute would never happen here. You frowned. The lack of thrill was worth your autonomy.

“Lieutenant.”

A snap of your head, and you blinked. You were in front of your charge.

This TIE fighter was unlike one you’d ever seen. Instead of the flat panel wings, this one bore talons, sharp knives capable of cutting space and possibly any ship in its way. Red-paned transparisteel formed the cockpit into a muzzle, imitating an animal instead of a sphere. And it wasn’t a ball suspended on plates, but was rather tucked tight into the body of the ship, creating a seamless, dynamic transition that to you, seemed so new, so modern. It was almost--sexy?

You looked to Hux. “Are you sure this is the one that isn’t working?” Lips parted in awe, you stepped up to it, placing a hand on the solar array. “It’s gorgeous.”

“The Supreme Leader has been unable to fly it for cycles, now,” said Hux. “I’m sure.”

“All right.” You rolled your eyes. “Got it.”

What you needed was a post-flight report. You strode over to the nearest terminal and entered your credentials--thankfully, as a Lieutenant now, they were universal to the entire First Order system. Only one ship was logged underneath the access: TIE/vn space superiority fighter: SILENCER.

“TIE silencer?” you mumbled. “Where do they come up with these names?”

You investigated the reports in the past several cycles that detailed the attempts by engineers to get the thing working: thrusters aligned, check. Solar lines flushed, check. Refuel port cleansed, check. Heat calibration reset and replaced, check.

And yet with each new repair--engine test: fail.

Engine test: fail.

Engine test: fail, fail, fail.

Screwing your lips in thought, you landed on the post-flight report, hoping it would provide you with insight. If he knew what was good for him, Supreme Leader Snoke would be thorough.

You opened the report, and paragraphs of information flooded the screen. Your jaw dropped. Every single system had been left with a meticulously in-depth account of its status before, during, and after flight. The level of specificity contained within each sentence astounded you. It was almost unbelievable that a single person could remember this much, let alone regurgitate it with any level of accuracy. You groaned, lost in Basic.

Hux cleared his throat. “How long do you anticipate this taking, Lieutenant?”

“As long as I--...” You stopped yourself with a grumble. It would be much easier to hear it from the tauntaun’s mouth, instead of pouring over and cross-checking every single detail. “I’m not sure, General. Is there any way I could speak with the Supreme Leader?”

A strange, smug look passed over his face. “Certainly,” he replied. “I’ll take you.”

You blinked. That was easy. Almost too easy. “Uh… okay.”

Hux turned on his heel, clipped stride cutting through the hangar. You hadn’t been prepared to meet the Supreme Leader when you woke up this morning, but you supposed anything was possible when working for the First Order. Swallowing, you shut down the terminal, and followed him into the halls.

Returning to a Star Destroyer, in a way, felt like home--the glossy black tile passed like a familiar path beneath your feet, and you spared fleeting glances to the Stormtroopers who passed you. The halls of the Steadfast maintained their similarity to everything else on the Finalizer--though that did nothing to assuage your anxiety about the memories you’d had on that ship. Or who may or may not be on this one.

“Do you work on the Steadfast, now, sir?”

Hux was silent for a moment, gaze trained forward. “Yes. The Finalizer was decommissioned.”

“Wait, really?” Your heart thumped. The only datapad message you’d received from your friends had come in the first few weeks after your departure. You just assumed they’d been busy. “What happened?”

“A Resistance attack left it crippled,” he replied. “Leadership and surviving crew were transferred to the Steadfast.”

Terror seized you, your pace quickened. “Sur-surviving crew?” you asked. “Sir?” More silence. You stumbled to catch up with him, fighting the tremor in your voice. “Sir--”

“Engineers Foster and Loren were transferred to this vessel unharmed, Lieutenant.” He leered at you. “Satisfied?”

You heaved a massive sigh, hands falling to your knees. They were here. You’d have to catch up with them, soon.

“Yes, sir, thank you--”

By the time you’d finished, he’d already managed to make it what seemed to be fifty paces ahead of you, and you scrambled to keep up with him.

As you did, a grey-haired man emerged from the corner in front of you both, and Hux stiffened, cursing under his breath. Raising a brow, you tried to meet this man’s gaze, only to bump into the general, who’d stopped, limbs pinned to his sides.

“Shit!” Your face burned, and you jumped back, snapping to attention. “I mean, uh, sorry, General, sir.”

The look Hux offered you was similar to one a parent might offer a simpering child. Right before they murdered that child in a fit of blind rage.

“General Hux,” said the grey-haired man. “Just the one I was looking for.”

“Allegiant General Pryde.” Hux’s chin jutted to the ceiling.

The Allegiant General Pryde turned his attention to you, glimpsing your uniform before meeting your eyes. “I’m afraid we’re not acquainted, Lieutenant…”

You gave your name. “Sir.” Clearing your throat, you continued, “I’m Chief of Operations on Orinda.”

“Ah.” His gaze lingered on the fuel cell filth smattering your chest. “Of course.” Something within his eyes categorized you in league with rodents--and something else within them told you he crushed rodents for sport. “Interesting.” His attention whipped back to Hux. “General. Regarding the Council meeting…”

“I plan to present the Supreme Leader with my plan, sir.”

“I know you do,” Pryde replied, “but you failed to run it by me.”

Hux’s jaw tensed. You wished you were anywhere other than this extremely awkward hallway meeting that had absolutely nothing to do with you.

“Forgive me, Allegiant General,” Hux said, “but I didn’t think a basic unit efficiency research required your approval.”

“Everything requires my approval, General,” he said. “Lest we forget the errors of Starkiller Base.”

That was a low blow. You gulped. They both looked at you, and you cleared your throat again, throwing your hands behind your back. The energy radiating from Hux could be classified as skin-scorching.

“Of course.” Hux’s tone grew tighter with each word that left his lips. “I’ll remember that next time, sir.”

“Good.” Pryde glanced between you. “What brings a facility chief from her station all the way to the Steadfast?”

“The Supreme Leader’s TIE fighter, sir,” Hux replied, still staring into the air. “She may be the only engineer capable of repairing it.”

The Allegiant General frowned. “Really. How many resources did you expend picking up a single person from a remote outpost?” he asked. “Do you not consider this to be something I should know?”

“It was a brief excursion,” he said. “I took two Stormtroopers and a single transport unit.”

“Was that unit’s excursion approved?” He circled Hux, a silvered predator, sizing up his prey. For once, you almost felt bad for the ginger bastard. “What if Resistance staged an attack while you were gone? If we needed that unit for more than a handful of bodies?”

Hux’s lips pursed, chin dimpling with tension. “I don’t know, sir.”

“And how do you think the Supreme Leader will feel knowing you acted without approval, all to retrieve a single engineer?”

Silence drifted like fog over the three of you, thickening as this grey-haired power-laden dickhead glared at General Hux. But Hux’s back had aligned, parallel to the wall, every flicker of frustration fled from his frame. The tiniest hint of a smirk curled at his mouth.

“I think he’ll be just fine with it. Sir.” Hux’s brow quirked. “We’re on our way to speak with him now, if you’d like to accompany.”

Pryde grinned, a serpent’s twist to his smile. “Your confidence has failed you in the past, General,” he replied. “Lead the way.”

You trailed behind the Allegiant General and Hux, fingers starting to quake. Now, you’d not only be meeting the Supreme Leader still smothered in space dust, you’d be meeting him accompanied by the two biggest assholes in the First Order--second only to one other, perhaps.

Unfortunately, that particular asshole was a ghost to this ship, and there wasn’t anyone in particular you felt comfortable asking about him. If Hux had been superceded by this new jerk, the last thing you wanted was another opportunity for someone with rank greater than your own to question you about your personal relationships.

Dread pooled in your belly. Supreme Leader Snoke did know about your personal relationship with the Commander. In fact, Snoke had been the one to insist you be his conduit, among other insulting things. You imagined him bringing it up: Ah, yes, the engineer, the distraction… and how have you been, without his cock inside of you?

You shook your head. No, it didn’t make sense for him to bring up his apprentice’s dick at your first meeting. Or any meeting, for that matter. You hoped.

The two men led you through the rest of the journey in silence, animosity prickling like durasteel barbs in the air between them. At least your own team didn’t regard you with vibrodaggers behind their backs--as far as you knew, anyway--and the realization, against the backdrop of your current situation, had you aching to leave. The discussion with the Supreme Leader would be swift and succinct; you’d get the information you needed, diagnose the problem, and be on your way back to Orinda.

In front of you, a massive turbolift sang its arrival, blast door whirring open. You followed the two men inside, heart tingling. Maybe part of you had been hoping that your long-awaited reunion would have occurred during your time aboard--as you thought it, you tried to stymie the resentment that you’d waited this long at all. The rational part of your mind reasoned that he was a busy man, that lack of contact didn’t indicate lack of thought.

But every other part of your mind was staving off bubbling despair. Four months had felt like four years, and you’d only grown more desperate, more anxious for his embrace--then furious that he didn’t appear to return the sentiment.

You knew how he felt. So it didn’t make sense, then, why he hadn’t acted on it for even a single, solitary night in the past sixteen weeks.

When the blast door opened, you crossed the threshold into an obsidian sanctuary. The floor gleamed, a black lake of glass sweeping into high ebony ceilings that twinkled with artificial stars. The only other illumination came from two enormous spheres that hung, suspended in air at opposite ends of the room, their surfaces a swirl of white-grey light, imitation suns with colorless coronas. At the far end of the room was a hovering stone throne, six dark figures crowding it in a crescent.

Your heart stammered--you’d seen them before. In memories that hadn’t belonged to you. All of them were outfitted in clothing that seemed familiar, helmets that hid their identities, and each of them possessed a weapon meant explicitly for assassination. The only conclusion you could draw was that they were the Supreme Leader’s bodyguards.

Whoever they were, to you, they were ominous.

The two men in front of you strode forward, and you followed, catching your reflection whispering by your shoes: your hair was mussed with evidence of engine exhaust, your uniform still glowing with smears of ionization. Internally, you cursed yourself. Yeah, this was exactly how you’d wanted to look when meeting the Supreme Leader of the First Order--like complete shit. Stomach sinking, you sidled behind them as they stood at attention.

“Supreme Leader,” they said simultaneously.

As if on command, the wall of shadowed soldiers parted to reveal the throne.

But no one was there.

You blinked. “Oh.”

Hux’s head swiveled between the strangers in front of you. “Where is he?” He turned to Pryde. “These are his receiving hours--”

“Yes,” replied the Allegiant Asshole. “But perhaps he’s departed early for the Supreme Council meeting. We’d be better off--”

The turbolift doors wailed behind you, and like synchronized chronometers, you, Hux, and Pryde spun to meet the new arrival.

Your brain went blank.

Kylo Ren crossed the shimmering sable floor in a confident stride, his robes replaced now with padded armor that clung to the contours of his powerful, thick chest, his broad shoulders covered with a hooded cape. His fists, still bound in leather, flexed at his sides--and his face...

More beautiful, more arresting than you could have conjured in any memory, his lips still pink and plush, his nose still a long line, his hair still rolling in waves, like black silk-velvet at his shoulders. You met his eyes as he advanced, finding them guarded, resurrecting every fear and insecurity, tempering them with hidden warmth.

“Generals.”

The voice was lightning through your limbs, its owner a perfect match to the soft baritone you’d replayed in your dreams for the past one hundred and fifty two days. All of your systems leapt to life at once: brain spinning, heart soaring, adrenaline coursing. Sweat soaked your neck, your figure thrust whole into a furnace.

“Sir!” Both bowed their heads.

Gazing at him, then, you realized what was happening. This was his throne. You were working on his TIE fighter. Kylo Ren, your lover, your obsession, your galaxy was now the de-facto leader of the actual galaxy. You weren’t in love with the First Order’s Commander, anymore.

You were in love with its Supreme Leader.

Shock anchored your mouth open. Your eyes welled with latent tears. You grinned in disbelief.

“Dude!” You laughed. “What the fuck!”

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren #defy your authority #fanfiction problems #fya2 #SLAPS THIS ON TUMBLR AND RUNS AWAY

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antarax · 4 years

Text

𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

It's late at night when Damian makes a stop by your house with the intention to confess his feelings for you.

Damian Wayne x Black!Reader, gender neutral.

Words: 2,105

AN: Happy Valentine’s to all the beautiful black people in the fandom!! I dedicate this one to all of us, who rarely get any works that include us or are actually vague enough to. Hope you enjoy it 💞

It was a quiet, cold night in Gotham. Neon city lights blurred into your room as the muffled sounds of the videogame on the old TV kept you company, the blue hue of the fluorescent lights washing over your bedroom even through half-pulled curtains.

The day had been a slow and uneventful one. For you, at least, after the hope of receiving someone's valentine had been completely blown off, the same energy manifesting itself in you as the night also dragged itself along.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of your window opening, having had no expectations of anything more for the day –that, and the fact that it was well into the night already. You saw Damian standing outside with his hand on the window sill, a bag in the other, Robin uniform dirty and tattered as his cape fluttered violently with the breeze.

He seemed stuck in his place, as if he had been the one surprised, frowning like he hadn't expected you in your own room.

The slight semblance of a smile grew on your face, "Well, come in," you said, pausing the game.

It wasn't uncommon for Damian to stop by your building after a busy night, the moon shining beautifully in the sky and the clouds a beautiful swirl of the light as he came through your window expertly quiet. But, even then with the known comfortability and trust you two had managed to reach in your relationship, it also wasn't uncommon to feel like remnants of the younger, more insecure Damian still clung to him slightly.

Slightly as in heavily.

You watched him as he moved into the small space and set down the bag on the floor, taking off his gloves and mask with the rough delicacy you associated with him.

He stood as if he was tightly wound up, like perhaps he could breathe wrong, or whatever new, unspoken rule he'd created for himself plagued his mind now.

It was a little funny.

"I'm not going to eat you, you know?"

Damian rolled his eyes, "I'm aware."

"Doesn't look like it," You muttered, glancing down at the controller in your hands, "What's in the bag anyways?"

"I— Things."

You raised a brow.

"Food, sweets. Drinks."

"Really?"

"Yes," Damian replied, sitting down and sagging against the wall underneath the windowsill, chest rising and falling slowly as he exhaled deeply. Damian grabbed the bag again, putting it down next to you, "They're yours."

You set aside the controller and rummaged through the bag, the thoughts racing in your head. Damian knew you well and you him, your friendship spanning over a few years now. There had been a lot you'd trusted him with. Secrets, worries, embarrassing shit you'd done that still haunted you and Damian had been no different. He let you in on his bigger secret, how he carried the mantle of Robin every night. Some of his deepest remorses were ones that you had knowledge of; although never diving too deep in the murky waters of Damian’s life, you still valued the clear trust he had in you.

And along all these moments, every opportunity you've had to know each other, slowly and softly peeling aside the layers covering the people you were, a warm intimacy rooted itself in your growing friendship. A comfortable sort of intimacy.

Every once in a while you stopped by the manor on the quiet days where it was only Alfred and the animals. You helped Alfred in the kitchen whenever he was practicing for a new recipe or baking a dessert for the family later in the day. You spent hours with Damian in his room, where his cat Alfred would always curl up next to you on his bed as he worked on his art, walking around the manor or playing around with Titus and Batcow in the manor's backyard –which, really, was just an enormous open field that they were too humble to call so– and sometimes you'd even earn an invitation to dinner.

As for you, Damian tended to visit at night more so than day, but there were moments where he would show up on a sunny afternoon when everyone else wasn't home, slumping down on your couch for an hour or two before going back to his own things. Sometimes he'd drop by books he'd seen at the library, a small trinket he'd bought at the store and various other paraphernalia that, somehow, you always ended up loving.

Damian knew your taste well, and there was no doubt he'd spend countless amounts of time pondering over each of his gifts before they ever reached your hands. All things that while anyone else might have brushed over you appreciated immensely.

"You know," you began as you leaned back into the foot of your bed, ripping off pieces from a napkin you'd taken out of the bag, buying time. Hesitating, "I actually— sort of, was hoping for a valentine this year."

You gazed at Damian's eyes, your interest boring into them, digging as deep as you were allowed. They looked nervous, hilariously so. Almost like he'd been caught. But caught... doing what, exactly?

Perhaps caught in the middle of staring back at you as he'd tend to do; how he'd tend to do and assumed you didn't notice.

Or maybe caught when he would discreetly drop off something in your room or your locker after having seen it at the store or the cafeteria and knowing immediately you'd like it, always behind the guise of simple complacency. Caught, in his true intentions, what truly made him do all these otherwise insignificant things that were much too small even for somebody as detail-driven as Damian.

Olive-colored eyes still shifted uncomfortably in front of you as the sole giveaway of the true nervousness Damian was drowning in, refusing to show anything more of himself, even when it mattered.

Especially when it mattered. It was frustrating.

"You were?"

"Yeah," You shifted in your spot, "I was."

No one could ever, ever know something about Damian that he didn't share. It's just not something you could do. Not when it came to him. Anybody who knew anything at all about who Damian Wayne is, at his core in existence, knows it only because he's allowed them to.

And he'd allowed you to know this too, and yet now he was hesitating.

"You wished to have... a valentine. Anyone?"

"Anyone."

"You could have, easily, if you wanted it," Damian rolled his eyes.

"I could?" You smiled, and the twinkle in your eyes was nothing short of mischievous.

"Yes."

"Reeeally. How?"

Damian slouched against the wall, "Well, you'd simply have to ask," he said it as if it had been an obvious fact, "I'm sure anyone at the academy would've said yes."

Your smile widened as you raised your brows, "Oh?"

Damian frowned, "You are making fun of me."

"What do you mean? How."

Damian crossed his arms as you laughed.

"You think I'm making fun of you," you protested, "I'm not."

"TT."

"There's something you want to say, isn't there? Just spit it out, Damian."

Damian's eyes lingered all over the room. His hands had started to sweat a while ago and by then, his heart had sped up so much he was sure it was making some attempt at breaking through and out of his chest.

Originally, his plan had been to drop by and bring you a gift, but then he'd gotten nervous and internally malfunctioned, because he'd bought a double of everything so that you wouldn't assume it had been a gift and instead just him coming by to hang out like he always did.

He had planned to come by, tell you he'd... harbored a few unwanted feelings towards you and hoped you would have been tired enough that you wouldn't have realized it, but clearly, his plan had flipped over backwards and blown up in his face.

Damian took as deep a breath as possible with his collar putting him in a choke hold, as if trying to push out his words while simultaneously wanting to keep them buried the deepest he could.

"I— hm," He stared intently at the floor, for the first time in a while feeling like the small child who would trip over his own emotions again, but he was resolved to tell you, "I like you. I suppose."

It hadn't been surprising to Damian. More that it was hard to accept. He'd mulled over it for a long, long time. In fact, the reason he'd visited you tonight, made up his mind to tell you so, had been his ridiculously embarrassing performance.

Being surprised by petty thieves and thrown out of the loop by measly codes, none of which happen, ever, not to him at least. Damian was far above such childish mistakes, at least so he thought until he started taking a closer look at his own thoughts and realized your eyes had gone from brown to 'beautiful pools of honey', your skin a beautiful, shining shade of brown.

He was an artist, after all. He'd spent afternoons studying his environment, the shapes and colors, how everything fit in together; you were no stranger to his thoughts.

Which of course, you wouldn't know. If you had, you would have taken the jump much earlier. You would have never acted based off of assumption alone, but having the confirmation, well.

By now you had to contain your smile because surely, surely, your cheeks would be sore afterwards.

"Wow," you raised your brows in obvious mocking, "Really?"

Damian scrunched up his face in disgust, like he'd witnessed the most foul thing yet, crossing his arms tighter but refusing to meet your gaze as he turned to the wall.

"You know, Damian."

"Yes?"

"The valentine I was hoping for this year… was yours. You could've easily made a card and thrown some glitter over it and that would be the end of that."

"A card, with glitter?" Damian snapped his head at you, seeming almost bored as he spoke in a deadpan voice, "Is that how lowly you think of me?"

At this you did laugh, almost too loudly for one in the morning, that you had to push both your hands against your mouth.

Damian frowned, "Please do know that if I were to ever make something so miserable, it must be because I've been replaced. Which would not happen. Ever."

You stood, shuffling over to Damian and sitting down next to him.

He looked pretty underneath the moonlight coming through the window, the curls over his forehead looking soft and shiny.

Damian looked right into your eyes, for the first time that night not looking away, he was trapped now. Not truly, he could leave, but did he want to? Not at all.

Softly, Damian touched your hand, something perhaps akin to fear in his eyes as if he still expected rejection.

"Damian?"

"Hm?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

"Oh."

"Unless you don’t want me to."

"Please do. I mean—"

It was a shy and quick kiss, but so, so exciting as Damian's grip tightened around your hand and you leaned into him.

When you leaned away, it was with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Please do—"

Damian frowned again, clearly not amused. After a few seconds though, your laugh died out. Truth is, your stomach was churning. Because, while you were very much happy and excited, you were also incredibly nervous.

Both of you were stitching your thoughts back together, seconds of silence passing by. You were still holding Damian's hand.

He closed his eyes, frown deepening considerably and quickly before he spoke, vile spilling out of his mouth, "A card? With some glitter thrown over it?"

He looked downright furious, disgusted even.

"Seriously?"

"It's not that big of a deal," You chuckled, "Get over it."

"Hm."

Damian looked out the window, and you followed, the moon standing beautifully in the middle of the sky.

Damian sighed, "I have to go."

"Oh... okay."

He didn't move. Neither of you did.

Damian gave you a quick kiss again, looking absolutely scandalized when he pulled back. You stared at each other in complete disbelief before he stood up and started putting his gloves on again.

He pressed his hands onto the windowsill and took a deep breath.

Damian looked at you, tenderly, "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Damian." You smiled.

Damian gave you a small smile, "Hm."

You watched as he jumped off, grappling to the nearest building and laughed when you saw him standing still before disappearing into the night.

#DC #DC Comics #Batman #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Wayne x Black!reader #escritos

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inb4belphienaps · 3 years

Text

crying over spilt milk

warnings: none word count: 2285

“Truth be told, I’ve been having these dreams. Dreams almost of another life, a past life perhaps. One that I’d lived and seen and breathed through at some distant point in time.”

I read over my words, holding the letter in my hands.

“They are, by far, the most intricate and detailed dreams I’ve ever had. Usually, I don’t remember them. But these…these feel too real, too specific, too thought out to be anything except something akin to memories of a bygone era.”

I recall a few of them with some difficulty. That was always how dreams worked, like trying to grab mist with your bare hands and having nothing tangible left as evidence.

“Shall I confess?

They have now become a source of entertainment for me, having increasingly rooted themselves in my mind, to the extent that I find myself looking forward to (for lack of better phrasing) the ‘next installment’.

It’s bizarre, I’ll admit. How eager I am to get to sleep as soon as the clock shifts from afternoon to evening, when the hour hand turns to six and I wonder if I’ll see him again…”

as you slowly float back up to the surface, the first sound that hits you is the singing of birds. their bright and cheerful chirps filter in with a hint of irony. though they're pleasant, quietened by the curtains hanging over the windows, it means that it's still rather early.

there's a chill in the air and you turn over under your duvet, tucking your feet in further towards your knees, eager to keep the warmth on your skin. and yet, you open your eyes, not needing to blink any sleep from them. oddly enough, you're more awake than you'd thought. whatever dream you'd been having is far from your mind as you bask in the scattered sunlight dancing on your walls.

such serenity ignites a type of mild excitement in you. and with that in mind, you will yourself to get out of bed.

you draw back the curtains and glance outside, looking out at the landscape, where the sun is shyly peeking over the hill. dawn is only just breaking and as you open a window, a gust of wind greets you, sending a rush of floral scents your way.

you can place notes of rose and lavender, and maybe honeysuckle too. the scenery is beautiful, and you lean against the ledge to admire it. clear skies and waves of green, dotted here and there with reds and pinks and yellows. there's a calmness to the color and vibrancy. something you hadn't stopped to feel in a long time.

it stays in the background. while you pour yourself some tea and sit down for breakfast, and when you turn on the radio to the crooning of some ballad you can't quite place. and even as you set about doing the laundry, humming every now and then to a tune only you seem to know.

the basket you use is one you've weaved yourself (in an attempt to be impassioned by a new hobby). it's small and sturdy and it does the job. you wonder whether it'll last you, hoping that if it breaks, it'll at least do you the favor of waiting until it's empty.

though it doesn't take long, you're startled to see the sun in the sky as you step onto the gravel path, basket in hand. it seems to stare down at you and wink as clouds roll overhead, creating capering shadows on the field as you start hanging the wet quilts one by one.

a couple of bees follow you around as you go about your business. and when you stand still to breathe in the smell of freshly washed linen and admire the warm glow cast on those sheets by the light, a butterfly flutters past.

it brings with it the distant ring of a bicycle bell. you look to the east where a man in uniform comes riding up the hill and the smile on your face could bring shame to the flowers lying near your feet.

"good morning", he says, slowing and stopping a foot or two away from you. he tilts his cap and you note the way in which his fringe barely covers his right eye.

"good morning", you reply. "it must be exhausting having to make that trip every day."

he laughs. it's sweet.

"i don't really mind."

in his hand he carries a metal basket and neatly arranged inside are six glass bottles full of milk.

"how many would you like today?", he asks, and you have the urge to tell him you'll take everything he has to offer. but of course, you don't say this aloud.

"just the one, please."

as he picks up one of the bottles to give to you, you swallow your spit and gesture towards your house. the shadows continue to dance above it, making it seem fluid despite its usual rigidity.

"can i get you something to drink? a coffee, perhaps?"

he appears taken aback, eyes widening a fraction before he smiles, and you feel your heart leap into your throat.

"i'd like that very much. a coffee sounds great."

you momentarily freeze, having expected him to refuse your offer. and then you're taking the bottle of milk and your basket back inside as he follows after you. you turn back to him as he enters and the sheets you'd hung flail slightly behind him, almost like a set of wings.

"cream and sugar?"

"um, no. but could i trouble you for some ice?"

an iced americano, you think. placing your basket on the floor and leaving your bottle on the kitchen counter, you busy yourself with preparing his beverage.

"my name is belphegor, by the way. i think you should at least know who it is that's been delivering you your milk."

you pause, having taken a mug out of the cupboard, and meet his gaze. his tone sounds a little indignant. were you simply being sensitive?

"it's a pleasure to officially meet you, belphegor."

the both of you exchange a shared laugh (the sudden bit of formality is embarrassing). he's the first to look away, breaking the eye contact that has goosebumps erupt on your skin. hm, perhaps you were overthinking things. only, the problem is that you're not sure you have any ice in the fridge.

"were you listening to music?"

"yes- oh", you say, confused at the static that greets you. "the program must've finished."

he glances at the radio and then at you. in your bid to locate the instant coffee you have, you don't notice.

through a strange coincidence, you find it sitting pretty on the top-most shelf of the pantry. you frown, wondering if you'd placed it there by mistake.

belphegor is about to open his mouth to speak again when he sees you reach upwards, fingers brushing across the jar mere centimeters out of your grasp. you're on your toes, leaning forward, barely balancing as you try your hardest to take it.

the man remains silent, watching you with a detached type of curiosity.

darn shelves, you think, as you stretch as far as you're physically able. still, the glass slips from between your fingers and you resort to stepping on a sack of flour. right as you grab it, the corner of the sack slides out from underneath your foot and you gasp, knowing all too well how this was going to end.

but there's a hand on your shoulder and a solid chest against your back, and a pleasant voice in your ear that suggests otherwise.

"so much trouble for a coffee."

his breath tickles the nape of your neck and you twist around to thank him, unprepared for the amused expression painting his face. from here, you can see every freckle, every eyelash, and every stray hair left untamed by his cap.

"you okay?", he asks, too close and quiet. too intimate that you forget yourself for a second.

"i'm...i'm fine."

those furrowed brows of his make you think twice and you place a hand to his chest, marveling in its warmth. you can feel his heart beat. it's steady, unfazed by whatever silly accident had happened just now.

"thanks", you mutter, swiftly removing yourself from his arms (firm and inviting). "i'll uhh...i'll make your iced americano, shall i?"

he doesn't say anything as you take a spoon and measure out the ground powder. and the silence lingers as you bring a pot of water to the boil. your thoughts, however, are that much louder, that much more pronounced. you were never one to invite strangers into your home. why was he such an exception?

"you can stop staring."

belphegor chuckles and you hate the fact that you can't ignore it. his laughter, it twinkles, and it has you looking at him all over again.

"i was keeping an eye out for you. in case you decide to make a habit of falling while i'm here."

you scoff, opening the fridge door to remove the ice tray. six cubes blink up at you and you ease three out, popping them into his mug in rapid succession. it's a tad violent and some of the coffee sloshes out onto the counter.

"thank you for your concern. but it's really not necessary."

he walks towards you, and you remain fixed on his bowtie, hoping to avoid being trapped by his alluring purple irises.

"if you say so."

and he takes a sip. and you find a cloth to wipe the spilt coffee with.

"it tastes good", he says. "maybe i should ask you to make me one every morning."

"tough luck", you reply, glancing at him as you clean. "i'm afraid this is the last of my hospitality."

besides, you didn't have it in you to continue acting an utter fool around him. something about his self-assuredness serves as the antithesis to your nervous energy, fueling it further to the point that you're doubtful about whether he'll return tomorrow.

"is that any way to talk to your knight in shining armor?"

oh. nevermind. that question makes you want to slap the handsome smirk off his face.

you give one last swipe of the counter, as if to stand your ground, and straighten up. yet it only leads to disaster.

the lonesome bottle of milk that you'd put atop it, comes crashing down onto the tiles, spraying its contents along every surface and scattering glass shards in its wake. the knot in your stomach tightens and you refuse to acknowledge the man who hasn't budged an inch.

he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"what am i going to do with you?"

as you stoop down to gather the glass, he mirrors you.

"i can-"

"it'll be faster with the two of us."

apparently, it's your turn to watch him. you slow your movements as you focus on his hands, how meticulously they pick up each broken shard and how conflicted you feel about him doing as such. in your daze, the edge of a particularly sharp fragment digs into your thumb and you flinch.

"fuck-"

he reacts before you do, tossing the glass he's holding into the bin and taking your hand in his to help you remove the fragment.

"this might sting", he mutters. that was the last thing on your mind. did this man have no sense of personal space?

the fragment is tossed out with the rest of what used to be the bottle and you're about to reluctantly thank him for a second time until he's bringing your thumb up to his mouth.

"wh- what are you doing?"

he suckles gently on the cut, putting a stop to the bleeding, and you're rendered speechless. when he speaks, all you can think about is his lips.

"can't you be more careful?"

"not with you here, no", you say, finally admitting to the reality that was beginning to suffocate you. you can't pay attention to anything other than him.

"figured it out, have you?"

"figured what out...?", you ask, leaning in as his voice drops to a whisper.

"you have a crush on me."

you stare, perplexed, and you tear your eyes away from his mouth to look at him. there's a secret lingering in his facade. of words unspoken and confessions kept hidden. what does he know?

"prove it", you mumble, perfectly aware of how ridiculous a demand that was.

except he obliges, closing the gap between the both of you and meeting your lips with his own. they're soft and as you snake your hands around his neck, his cap comes loose, falling to join the mess on the floor.

neither of you care to address it and he pulls you back up, hugging you to his front and wrapping his arms around you. it's intoxicating. bitterness lingers on his tongue and there's the faint taste of cigarettes. but you're kissing him like someone starved. or perhaps someone parched.

sparks fly beneath your eyelids and rouge caresses your cheeks. (or was it the ghost of his palm against them?)

there's a need, an intensity to the way he grips you and the way clenches his jaw when you tug at his hair. you match him blow for blow, digging your nails into his shoulder and moaning softly into the kiss.

when you part and rest your forehead against his, you're not the only one who's out of breath.

"belphie", you whisper and the look on his face is a mystery in itself – surprise and longing, haphazardly hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"thank god i brought another five bottles with me, huh?"

#yeah move along it's another belphie piece shut up #obey me au #obey me writing #obey me fluff #obey me belphegor #obey me! belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x gn reader #my writing 🐇

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

CRASH

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 2.050

Warnings: none;

Summary: One morning on your way to work, you crash into a cute guy not expecting seeing him again in the evening.

You were running late. Again. There was no way your boss would buy another lame excuse if you wouldn't hurry. Maybe, if one of the six would be with you, you still could make it on time. If you were fast. Well, faster than fast. Maybe fast like a chocobo…

You were so deep in your thoughts with your eyes glued at your phone that you barely noticed anything around you. You knew the way. Blindly. Flying down the different streets in the heart of the city for two years. You knew every single light signal, every street sign and every building by heart.

What you didn't know was that big rocks could suddenly emerge from the ground because as you ran into something it felt as if you were slamming straight into a massive wall made of stone. You bumped into it, bouncing back from the rock before you fell.

But there was no impact on the ground…

"Hey, it's okay. I got you. You can open your eyes.", a soft male voice spoke close to your ear.

Only then, you felt two strong arms embracing your waist. As you raised your gaze, you got greeted by ocean blue eyes filled with concern, "The… the rock can speak.", you breathed startled, '...And is handsome as hell.', you thought further.

"Excuse me, what did you say?", the man asked confusedly and checked on you. He had noticed that the impact had been hard, you were straight crashing into him with some kind of speed, but it shouldn't cause any real trouble for your health.

You shook your head quickly to get your mind under control again, "I- I'm sorry.", you breathed, showing the man, who steadied your stand, a huge smile, "Thanks for catching me so quickly."

"It was my pleasure- hey, where are you going?", the man asked surprised.

You were already back on your way, "I'm sorry. I have to go. But it was nice crashing into you.", you called out before you hurried down the street.

Nyx stepped forward, following you but stopped again as his feet kicked at something. A small smartphone slid over the stones of the pavement. Nyx caught it before it could fall on the street and would get hit by a car.

Without a second thought, Nyx ran after you, trying to catch up but as he turned the corner of a coffee shop, you were already out of sight.

***

"Hey, what is that? Fancy new phone?", Libertus asked as he sat next to his friend.

Once again, Nyx nudged the display to turn it on. A picture of you with a cat showed up. Your eyes were sparkling and your smile breathtakingly beautiful. Only the little box with the PIN request threw a shadow of the image, "Actually, I… I found it this morning. It's theirs.", he said and pointed at the picture that glowed up again.

Libertus turned the phone over, "Looks cute. Seems to have money if they can afford such an expensive thing."

"Yeah…", Nyx breathed and frowned. It was indeed the newest model and didn't even have one scratch. And even if he had been distracted by your eyes and smile, he had noticed your expensive looking clothes, your styled hair and even the fancy shoes.

"But… Why do you have their phone?", Libertus asked.

Nyx got brought back from the daydreaming about you, "They crashed into me this morning. I guess they were on their way to work because they left pretty fast. I found the phone on the ground and ran after them but they were already out of sight.", he explained.

"Have you tried to find a number?", Libertus asked.

Nyx chuckled dryly, turning on the display once again, pointing at it, "What do you think this is, huh?"

"A cat.", Libertus answered, not getting the reason behind the question.

Nyx leant back in his chair while running a hand over his face, "I meant the PIN. I need a PIN to unlock the phone or otherwise, I don't have access."

"Oh... Well, but maybe Pelna can help-"

"Glaives! Into the briefing room!", Captain Drautos called out and within seconds your phone disappeared back into the pocket of Nyx' uniform jacket.

Unfortunately, it stayed there for the rest of the day…

***

Nyx was bushed. Because everything was pretty calm at the moment with no new attacks on Insomnia by Niflheim, Nyx and the other Glaives should train to stay focused. At the end of the day, Nyx scuffed into the locker room completely exhausted. He sat down on a bench and raked his fingers through his hair to relax a little bit.

"Hey, Nyx! Libertus! Wanna stop at Yamachang's?", Luche asked.

Nyx nodded without looking up. To get something to eat and to drink would be nice after a full day of training.

"Haven't you forgotten something?", Libertus asked and nudged Nyx' shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"The fancy phone you found? Or do you wanna keep it after all?", Libertus asked with a grin, knowingly exactly that Nyx wouldn't do something like this.

Nyx' head shot up as he remembered, "Fuck… I totally forgot the phone!", he whispered and jumped up.

"Where are you going?", Luche called out, looking confused after his friend.

"I have to find Pelna!"

***

Thirty minutes later, Nyx had the address of your place. Once again, Pelna had worked his magic when it came to technology and information. Very quickly, Pelna found out your name and that you lived in the heart of the city not far away from the point where you had crashed into Nyx.

So, Nyx was on his way to get to your place. He was sure you would be grateful to get your phone back. He cursed himself that he had forgotten about it the whole day and hoped you wouldn't be too mad.

Accompanied by many pedestrians which were going home or into bars, Nyx made his way through the streets and was taken aback as he found himself in front of one of these high, luxurious looking apartment buildings.

Maybe Libertus was right and you had indeed a lot of money. Nyx swallowed nervously as he stepped through the entrance. The lobby was decorated with a bunch of plants and framed paintings. Even a leather couch stood at one wall. His boots made soft noises on the marble floor.

A couple was staring at him suspiciously. People like Nyx weren't liked to be seen in such places. For everyone, it was okay that he and the others risked their lives to fight for safety but at the end of the day, the refugees should stay where they belonged: in the underground.

Nyx hurried over to a board with names and searched for yours. He found it quickly. You lived on the eight floor and moments later, Nyx stood in one of the elevators with mirrored walls and a golden handrail.

Nerve-wracking slowly, the elevator brought Nyx to the floor he wanted. There was something strange when he walked through buildings and streets like these. It wasn't just that he was an outsider for all of them. It was rather just not his world. Even back in Galahd, such luxury wasn't common and so, he felt misplaced.

Nyx walked down the hallway while taking out your phone. He looked at the shining material. This was your world. You lived like this and maybe you didn't even know something other than having money.

As he reached your door with the golden apartment number, Nyx just needed to knock. He could knock and you would open the door. Maybe accusing him of stealing your phone. Maybe yelling at him that he needed the whole day to bring you the phone back. Or, you would call him stalker because he had tracked you down.

One last time, Nyx turned on the display and looked at the cute picture of you with the cat in your arms. Both of you looked so happy. You looked so nice and sweet. And even this morning, you had been nice to Nyx. At least, you hadn't been unfriendly.

As the display went off again, Nyx saw his mirrored expression on the surface. He saw his tattoos and braids and knew that this was not his world. So, he did the only thing that came to his mind: placing the phone in front of your door and to leave.

"Minka, what is- you!", you said surprised as you opened the door, seeing the cute guy from the morning in front of you. The whole day, he had occupied your thoughts and now, he was there.

Nyx looked up and greeted you with a shy smile. You stood in your doorframe, holding the door in your hand before you opened it even a bit more, "Hey, uhm… I- I found your phone this morning. You know...after our crash.", he stammered and presented the smartphone in his hands to you.

You stared at him and then at his hand for several moments before you jumped against the unknown man, snaking your arms around his neck to squeeze him tightly, "Oh, god bless! I had no idea where I'd lost it! You're heaven-sent!", you said over excitedly. Suddenly, you remembered what you were doing and so, slightly sheepishly, you stepped back again, "I- I'm sorry. I know, boundaries. It was just... I'm so lost without my phone. The day was a living hell.", you said softly.

"I'm sorry that it took me so long to bring it back. The day was a bit … busy.", Nyx said, scratching the back of his neck. He still felt bad for forgetting the phone at all.

You waved his apology aside. You knew what it meant to have a rough day. Only then, you noticed what the man in front of you was wearing, "You… you're a Kingsglaive.", you whispered in awe.

Nyx saw your astonished and excited expression and took the opportunity, "Yes, I am. Nyx Ulric at your service.", he said with a smile as you were still gaping at him.

As you noticed that you were still staring, you swallowed, "I’m sorry… It’s just that.. I'm such a big fan of you all. I mean, what you do for this city … we all owe you so much.", you said honestly.

Nyx was taken aback, "A fan? Never met one before to be honest."

"I know. You guys don't get appreciated enough. At least, not as much as you all deserve it. But- wait! I have an idea. Come in. Have dinner with me. Please.", you asked as you saw Nyx' refusing expression.

"Thank you. But it's not necessary.", he said politely even if he wanted to say something else. He would love to spend more time with you and your light attitude that made his heart jump a little.

"Please. You rescued me and my phone. You even brought it back. Plus the things you do as a Glaive. Inviting you in is the least I can do to thank you.", you tried to convince Nyx with your winning smile.

"I… I don't know. It wouldn’t be right…", Nyx said and just meant it half-heartedly.

"Please.", you begged, "If you leave, I just have Minka for company."

Nyx chuckled and even if he already sensed the answer, he asked anyway, "Who's Minka?"

"My cat.", you answered, looking down at the stripy, little troublemaker sitting next to your feet.

Nyx followed your glance and chuckled, "But she looks sweet.", he said amused as the cat tilted its head.

"Oh, she's sweet. Most the time. As long as you have food. No food, no sweetness. Trust me, she will turn into a vicious monster if she wants to.", you whispered conspiratorially.

Nyx was hooked. He liked your eyes, your smile and you were funny. The whole package was simply perfect. In fact, he didn't want to leave so quickly, "Did you say vicious monster? If that's so, I guess, I should accept your invitation. I mean, someone has to protect you."

"And who would be better for this job as an honorable Glaive.", you said with a huge grin, stepping aside to let Nyx into your apartment, into your life and into your world.

#nyx ulric x female reader #nyx #nyx ulric x gender neutral reader #nyx ulric x male reader #final fantasy nyx ulric #kingsglaive nyx #ff15 nyx ulric #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric #final fantasy xv #final fantasy kingsglaive #male reader #female reader #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader

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otome-mochi · 3 years

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Not your average slice of life... Otome Reviews: Dark Nights by Pinlin

Hello Mochlings!

Mochi here with a new review!

Awhile back in January a kind Anon left a request for this game Dark Nights by Pinlin. I decided to check it out and give a review!

Firstly, this game is rated 16+, for violence, (mild) blood, etc.

It is a free game on PC but you can pay to support the creator and there is a sound track that can be purchased for $10.

In the description this game is described to have 4 total routes and they each have a unique storyline along with 16 possible endings, 4 for each storyline.

The main cast includes: Zeikun, Junoru, Sachiro, Kurato, and the MC who can be renamed at the beginning of the game.

Synopsis time!

“You live in a small, peaceful village. Every day is the same as any other; boring. Right when you wish for something exciting to happen, strange things start to occur, stemming from the nearby forest. If that isn't enough, the locals have begun disappearing. At the same time you meet four mysterious guys. Will you discover the truth before becoming the next target?”

Now onto the prologue, which is set over seven days!

MC is a student, who feels that everyday is the same pattern over and over, she goes to school, comes home and it repeats. She quietly wishes that something different would happen. On her way to school she passes and old run down mansion, She has always seemed to admire it and tends to pass by it on her was to class. However on day she notices a shadow of a person in one of the windows, wanting to investigate she decides to come back later. After school (and a long nap in class) she is followed by a first year who asks her to be his girlfriend, MC refuses as he begins to make her uncomfortable but after kneeing him in the gut, he take the hint and runs off.

Some time passes and the class is going on a field trip to the local forest for a nature study, MC with her two friends Ikuya and Lioji, the latter who is the class president. They discuss among themselves about the recent missing person cases and how dangerous it it to be in the forest. Ikuya has heard rumors that there are monsters in the forest who have been taking the missing tourists but Lioji thinks otherwise and asks their teacher about the rumors, which gets brushed off as fairytales to scare people. The trio decide to explore a bit, much to Ikuya’s protests, and they go farther from their class to a nearby river and find some rocks to sit on and take a breather. MC notices a cave farther ahead and goes to check it out. Going in she walks down the long corridor but gets lost in the sudden twists, for a moment she panics then a shadow appears, thinking it’s someone prowling around the cave she yells, only for the figure to be a young man, who isn’t quite happy being screamed at. He asks MC if she’s a tourist which catches her attention and she questions him but he ignores her and drags her out of the cave and tells her to stay away as she is on private property. She grumbles about his attitude while she finds her way back to her friends and they resume to talk amongst themselves as the trip comes to an end.

Returning home MC remembers she was going to investigate the old mansion and decided to head out, she goes to the old house and watches for awhile until she notices someone siting by the fountain in the courtyard, she notices his uniform and wonders if he is one of her school’s elite students as they have a different uniform, approaching him, he becomes startled but soon begins talking to MC and shows her the garden behind the house, he seems to know quite a bit about it but when MC begins to question him he stops talking and they wish each other goodnight, she however returns to ask for his name and is surprised that he has disappeared.

Strange encounters don’t stop there, MC takes a walk to the local park, early the next morning and takes a seat on a nearby bench, a boy passes by and asks if she knows where the haunted house is, she is confused by his sudden request and he runs off mumbling how he needs to find it. She decided to read the book she brought along with her, given to her by Ikuya but then rain starts coming down and she has to go home but the boy from earlier in on the path, passed out. She quickly helps him up and guides him to a near by tree to shield them from the rain. The boy comes to and for a moment is frantic with apologies, but calms down soon after and speaks with MC some more, he introduces himself as Sachiro and thanks MC for her help. She says she can take him to the haunted house the next time she sees him as they both want to get out of the rain.

Returning home, MC finishes up some homework she let pile up but has trouble focusing on her work and focuses on the strange encounters she has had recently. She decided to take a rest and lies down for a while, that is until someone knock...on her window (>_>)! She sees a guy waving at her and he pleads with her to be let in. She ignores him and calls him the worst burglar to think she would be stupid enough to let a stranger into her house. The knocking stops and she doesn't see him anymore, she goes to take another look from her downstairs window, looking up, she doesn’t see anyone on the side of the house, so he didn’t fall off. Confused but indifferent she goes back to her room, only for the ‘Burglar’ to be inside. He says he found another window and asks MC if he could stay and obviously she says no and proceeds to start throwing thing at him to get him out, he says he knows her but he leaves again from her window.

In class the next morning she ponders the strange people she’s met the past few days only for Ikuya to interrupt her thoughts and they begin to discuss the old mansion again. Ikuya asks if she heard the rumors about the recent murder and how the townspeople are accusing the new residents in the village and how it isn’t fair to the newer people. Lioji thinks otherwise and says it’s quite possible, he ask the two if they’ve seen any suspicious people recently as he is helping with the case by gathering a list of new people in the area, MC agrees to tell if she’s seen anything and goes back home. It dawns on her that the four strangers she’s met are people she has never seen before in the village and decides to investigate one of them.

And that’s the end of the prologue!

After that the choice for a character starts and you can choose one of the 4 to start their route:

Zeikun the stranger from the cave

Junoru the boy near the mansion

Sachiro the boy after the haunted house

and Kurato the supposed ‘Burglar’

Let me just say the art is fantastic, clean lines and expressive faces, there are subtle eye movements that help convey emotion which is always good, I personally find it hard to get into a game if the character’s have the same expression throughout the whole game, a bit hard to take a character seriously if the script says they’re yelling but they have a smile plastered to their face. To add on to the art the CG’s are really nice as well! The gallery to find them later is also a nice touch! The creator has a good storyline going with a mystery type otome and I like the ‘more than what’s on the surface’ approach, Pinlin keep doing what your doing!

I’ll be honest I didn’t care for the MC at first especially in the prologue, I interpreted her as very bitter but she did grow on me as I played longer and her character has a very curious spirit, but if she didn’t we wouldn’t have a great story! Did I already say I really like the art???

I also found Pinlin’s tumblr blog with information about the game, I have it linked at the top so go check it out! (Watch out for spoilers! o_<) With roughly 10 hours of game play in the games description this is a game you can definitely take some time to enjoy and you can always save to come back later!

Until my next review Mochlings!

-Mochi Out!

#otome game #otome reviews #pinlin #mystery otome #mochi's requests #romance?

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