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laequiem · 2 years

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Cheek to Cheek in Hell - Chapter 15

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Pairing: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar

Rating: explicit

Word count: 4,035

“Jude,” I hear Cardan say, but I pay him no mind. “I can live in Elfhame again,” I mutter. After weeks of feeling too broken for the mortal world, I finally have an opportunity to go back to Elfhame, to gain back the life I used to have. “Jude.” He grabs my face, and the gesture suddenly reminds me of what we had been doing before we found the message. I remember his declaration, and that I still don’t know how to reply. “You can’t seriously be considering this. Dain will never let you get away with murder.”

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Chapter 14 • next chapter • Cheek to Cheek masterpost

Chapter 15

Jude POV

To anyone else in the building, the spoiled acorn hanging on our door would look like nothing more than an autumnal decoration. Except that we never put it there and that whoever did somehow had to get through the entrance to which only the tenants have the key.

Not that a lock would keep out someone with magic.

Cardan moves before I can, grabbing the acorn and removing the cap. He takes out a small scroll of paper, reading the message to himself and frowning.

“What does it say?” I ask.

Wordlessly (for once), he hands me the slip of paper. The dark ink still looks fresh, though it does not smear, the letters curling in neat cursive.

Jude Duarte, The Crown requires the presence of Cardan Greenbriar for the High King’s coronation. We can discuss your terms for his release. Fail to return him before the turn of the moon and we will send for him.

I stare at the message for far too long. By the time I look up, Cardan has unlocked the door and guides me inside. Our apartment is so small that one look from the front door confirms there is no one inside but us. The air feels heavy still, the revelation that we never truly escaped looming over us. Have spies been observing us this whole time? I picture the Roach, staking out in one of the apartments surrounding ours to track our movements. The Ghost, glamoured to look less fae, roaming the mall to report back to Dain. Perhaps Madoc sent one of his spies after me. His loyalty lies with Dain, and if Dain feels slighted, my adoptive father might try to get rid of the problem. Or perhaps it’s someone else altogether, one of the other royals who don’t want their sibling associating with a mortal.

Finally, Cardan breaks the silence. “The coronation should have already happened by now.”

He is right, of course, but I am more concerned that they seem to think that I kidnapped him. No mention of my crimes, apart from the discussion of terms for Cardan’s ‘release’.

“I can ask for absolution,” I muse out loud.

“Jude,” I hear Cardan say, but I pay him no mind.

“I can live in Elfhame again,” I mutter.

After weeks of feeling too broken for the mortal world, I finally have an opportunity to go back to Elfhame, to gain back the life I used to have.

“Jude.” He grabs my face, and the gesture suddenly reminds me of what we had been doing before we found the message. I remember his declaration, and that I still don’t know how to reply. “You can’t seriously be considering this. Dain will never let you get away with murder.”

Maybe Dain doesn’t know, I want to say. Maybe he doesn’t care. But then I remember how he reacted when he learned that I had stabbed Valerian, his rage at the idea that I could act without his lead. I hold up my hand with the scar.

You are my creature, Jude Duarte.

Cardan takes the hand I’m holding up and presses his lips to the scar. “So he does have something to do with this,” he says, his voice deliberately void of any emotion. “And you still think you can trust him?”

I don’t trust Dain. I don’t trust any of them. Despite their truthfulness, they scheme and plot and betray. But Dain is the only one who has ever given me a chance.

“I did this,” I snap. “I wasn’t under a spell, I wasn’t following instructions. I don’t care that you don’t like him, he’s the only chance I have for a position at court. You know I don’t fit here. You’ve seen it as much as I have.”

He drops his hands from my face, taking a step back. Maybe I should feel remorse, but despite the flowery declarations and addictive kissing, he’s still the boy who has hurt me more times than I can count. In this moment, Cardan could not look any less like his brother. When Dain had watched me stab my hand, he had looked surprised, like he realized he had underestimated me. I could not tell if he was impressed, but Cardan looks horrified. He’s not surprised, though. He knows what I am capable of, and I just confirmed his worst guess.

It’s only at the memory of that day, of feeling vulnerable under Dain’s dark gaze, that I realize what I said. That I managed to speak the words aloud proves a truth that neither of us suspected until now. Dain’s orders prevented me from talking about him.

I forbid you from speaking aloud about your services to me, Dain had ordered. So long as I live, you will obey this.

I did not tell Cardan ‘I am a spy for your brother’, but I might as well have. Saying that Dain is my only chance for a position at court is forbidden enough, which can only mean one thing.

“Dain is dead,” I say aloud and watch as the knowledge spreads to Cardan’s expression. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to tell you that.”

I can see the calculations he’s making in his mind. The links he’s forming, trying to figure out, as am I, what this means about the message we received. It’s not from Dain. It’s from another one of his siblings.

“Something happened,” I say. “We have to go back.”

And to my surprise, he agrees.

——

After stopping by Bronx Park to gather some ragwort, Cardan hails a taxi to bring us to the waterfront. I regret snapping at him, but he acts as though it was nothing, chatting away about each of his siblings and their allegiance, and why each one of them would summon him. His tail is hidden away now, but I saw how wild it was as we packed our things and left the apartment—he’s nervous.

It’s the middle of the afternoon when the taxi drops us near Orchard Beach. I can’t say I am surprised that no one is around. If my breath clouds in front of me with every exhale, the water must be near-freezing. I hear a huff behind me and look back to see Cardan standing near a ragwort steed, bringing a second strand to his mouth to enchant it.

“I’ll ride with you,” I tell him. He drops his hands, looking up at me. “If I’m your captor, surely I wouldn’t let you ride alone.”

He grins at this, gesturing dramatically towards the pony. “After you, then, my villain.”

——

Madoc’s stronghold is more intimidating than I remembered. After being away for so long, the house where I have spent most of my life feels more like a fortress than a home. Still, at this hour, my family should be asleep, with only a skeleton crew running the estate.

I spot the window to my room, dark like all the others. Unless Madoc picked up more strays in my absence, it should be empty. I doubt any of my siblings would want to take over the room where someone was murdered. With sick curiosity, I wonder if Madoc bothered to have the corpse removed, or if he’s keeping it as a trophy for what his daughter is capable of.

I have sneaked in and out of my rooms enough times that I have memorized every foothold and which vine is to be avoided. So of course I notice that the vines have been trimmed, leaving only the weakest ones. I put a foot in one of the footholds and reach for the nearest gap in the wall to hoist myself up, but it’s barely out of my reach. I turn around to find Cardan staring at me, his eyes snapping up to mine when he realizes I caught him.

“Glad that you’re enjoying the view,” I snarl, keeping my voice low. “Still, I could use a hand.”

“You ought to keep wearing mortal pants now that we are back,” Cardan drawls even as he kneels down to hoist me up. “They are a delight.”

Using his thighs as a step, I manage to reach the handhold. Climbing up to my balcony from there is easy, and I pull myself up over the balustrade.

The sliding doors are unlocked, so I slip in with no effort and gaze at my abandoned room. Valerian’s blood has been scrubbed, his body nowhere to be found. It’s strange to be back in here. Though nothing has moved, it feels foreign. Like this room belongs to someone else. It is clearly mine, though. My vials of poison sit lined up on the fireplace, my stringed rowan berries hang from hooks behind my door. I haven’t needed one in a while, but if Dain is really dead and his geas over… I grab one and slip it around my neck, hiding it beneath my shirt.

“At least my tail is good for something,” Cardan says as he squeezes through the doors, “I don’t quite have Locke’s talent for hopping on balconies, so it helps with balance.”

I glare at him, putting a finger to my lips to remind him to be quiet. His answering grin screams mischief, and he crosses the distance between us with a quiet that only the fae can achieve. Long fingers tuck a strand of hair behind my ear as he leans in, his nose tracing the curve of it.

“I would rather you quiet me with your lips,” Cardan croons.

I roll my eyes at his cheesiness, but it does not deter him. He sweeps my hair over my shoulder, his fingers leaving a trail of warmth where it brushes the back of my neck. When his hand comes back to rest there, I all but melt into him. He captures my lips, kissing me quick and deep. I brace my hands around his waist, letting him take the lead—

“Jude?”

The voice is mine but wrong, like a recording of one’s own voice. I push away from Cardan, taking a step back and turning towards my sister. She’s in her pajamas, floaty satin embroidered with pale flowers, holding a faelight lantern.

“Taryn,” I gasp.

The confusion that was on my twin’s face quickly changes to relief. She places her lantern on my dresser and runs to wrap her arms around me.

“I’m so glad you’re ok!” Taryn sobs, not bothering to keep her voice down. “I was so worried.”

I hug her back, conflicted. A part of me feels guilty for causing my sister distress. At the same time, though, I can’t help the pit of anger in my stomach. Taryn and I’s relationship is strained to say the least. There was a time where all we had was each other, until we grew and made other choices. I chose anger. She chose Locke.

Taryn lets go of me. With a nod towards Cardan, she crosses her arms. “It seems you have some explaining to do, though.”

I almost laugh right in her face. “So do you, I’ve been told,” I reply.

At least she has half a mind to look worried at that. Cardan, for his part, seems very interested in everything else in the room, busying himself by snooping.

For a long moment, Taryn and I only stare at each other, two sides of the same coin.

Taryn is first to give in, grabbing her lantern. “I will get Dad. He has been asking about you a lot lately.”

That can’t be good. Before I can stop her, though, she disappears down the corridor, leaving Cardan and I alone in my room. I sigh loudly, giving up on trying to stay stealthy. Soon enough, Taryn will wake the rest of the house, and we’ll have a good old family reunion.

My twin’s words ring in my ears. Why would Madoc be looking for me? I refuse to believe he was worried for me—at least, not unless he had some ulterior motive for doing so. If it was about Valerian, he would have come looking for me earlier.

Cardan sits on the edge of my bed, his fingers idly feeling at the fabric of a dress laid out on it—the dress I was to wear for the coronation, I realize. The one I saw briefly the day Valerian came through my window. The same day that Dain made me stab myself. So much happened on that day, I can scarcely remember everything. Oriana warning me about Dain. Balekin visiting with Madoc. Handprints of gold staining Cardan’s torso and red marks left by someone else on his neck.

“You look awfully calm,” I tell him, watching as he keeps fingering the dress.

“I’m terrified,” he admits, lifting his gaze to mine. “But I’m always terrified when I’m with you.”

I snort. “And you like that.”

“I have depraved tastes,” he shrugs. He lifts one of the dress’s sleeves, silver embroidery glinting in the afternoon sun. “I had this commissioned for you, you know. Shame I never got to see you wear it.”

“You… did?” I remember getting the dress, and how confused I was that it was not what I ordered. I thought there had been a mix up, or perhaps the dress was for another one of my sisters, but Oriana had insisted. Of course the tailor would make a different dress if a prince asked for it. I wonder if he would have told me, had I worn it that day, or if he would have kept it a secret.

“I wasn’t very interested in going to the coronation, but I figured seeing you in this would make it worth my while,” he says, his voice dripping with a mockery directed at himself. “I was quite intoxicated, I must admit.”

It all makes so much sense now. How he refused to answer when I asked him how long he has wanted me. It’s been a long time and he is ashamed of it.

“This isn’t from me, though,” he says, indicating something laying on my pillow.

I look at where he’s pointing and notice it then, a bundle loosely wrapped in cloth. It’s longer than the gift Cardan gave me this morning, but I can tell it’s also a weapon. The cloth covers the blade, leaving the guard and pommel exposed. They are simple, but well shaped, clearly the work of a master blacksmith. Carved under the pommel are the smith’s initials, JD.

I grab it and unwrap the cloth from the blade, exposing a pattern of vines along its edges. As I’m admiring the blade, I hear fast footsteps coming from the corridor. I barely have time to put it down when Oak pummels into me, giggling.

I spin him around, ducking my head to avoid getting poked in the eye by his growing gowns. He squeals in delight, effectively waking up anyone still sleeping.

“Jude! I missed you!” Oak pouts. “Where have you been?”

“I missed you too,” I reply, avoiding his other question.

As I put him back down, I catch a glimpse of Cardan, looking at us with something akin to sadness in his eyes. He quickly looks away, and before I decide if I should ask about it or not, another shape appears at my threshold. Oriana stands tall, in a sheer dress gown only a fairy would be comfortable receiving people in. Her pale face is set in a regal expression yet pinched with disapproval. She gives me a once-over, after which her face seems to relax a little.

“Glad to see you’re alive. The servants are setting the table, make your way downstairs,” Oriana’s gaze goes from me to Cardan. She curtsies, though not as low as someone of Cardan’s status would warrant. “Your Highness is invited as well, of course.”

And with that, she shepherds Oak out of my room, leaving Cardan and I alone all over again. I close the door behind them, then whirl on Cardan.

“We need a plan,” I tell him.

“A plan?” He asks, raising a brow. “To eat with your family?”

“Something happened when we were away, and we need to find out what,” I explain. “Without getting caught in anyone’s schemes.”

“You need your own scheme to counter everyone else’s,” he teases.

“Exactly. ‘The Crown’, whoever it represents, seems to think I kidnapped you,” I say. He snorts at that. “Perhaps we should lean into it.”

The Crown wants Cardan. Is Madoc associated with them? He has been inquiring about me, which means that he also wants something. I refuse to believe it’s only out of paternal duty that he searches for me. He wants Cardan for himself, for whatever plot he has going on.

“I can’t lie, Jude,” he reminds me.

I lean towards him and grab his chin, tipping his face up. He parts his lips instinctively, his pupils widening to engulf the lighter black of his irises.

“Of course you can,” I tell him. I let go of his chin and wave a hand towards the dress. “After all, you managed to convince everyone that you hated me.”

Cardan’s gaze is scorching, sending every warning bell in me ringing. I make to step away from him, but he grabs my wrist and pulls himself up. He leans into my neck, letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin there.

“I did hate you,” he whispers against my skin. “Did you?”

“I will always hate you,” I promise him.

I feel, more than hear, the hitch of his breath. His lips find my throat and he kisses me there once, softly. When he lets go of my wrist and pulls away, I grab his hand instead, and drag him downstairs where my family awaits.

We barely make it down the stairs when I spot Madoc. He stands outside of his study, carving an impressive figure even without his armor. Unlike Oriana, he is dressed in finery, as if he sleeps in his best clothes.

“Jude. Come with me,” Madoc says. His expression is carefully blank as he lets his gaze drag to Cardan and adds, “alone.”

“Yes, father,” I reply.

Without daring to look at him, I squeeze Cardan’s hand and let go. Madoc opens the door and lets me in, locking it behind him. I square my shoulders as he walks around me and stands behind his desk.

“Sit,” he says, gesturing to a large chair on my side of the desk.

I do. After I am seated, he sits in his chair, facing me. His pose is nonchalant as he leans back, large green fingers tapping on the wooden desk.

“I have taken care of your… business,” he says, a hint of pride in his gruff voice.

“Valerian,” I clarify and Madoc nods.

“He broke into my daughter’s room, perhaps to do something untoward,” he explains. “I protected my home and my daughter. No one will question it.”

So he took the blame. I suppose there are advantages to having a murderous father. I give a small nod to show my gratitude, knowing better than to thank him.

“Your disappearance, however, I could not explain,” he says. “Oriana thought you were with child. When the princeling was found to be missing as well, I did not know what to think.”

I breathe in deep, trying to keep my face emotionless. I remember my last conversation with Oriana, and how she warned me about Dain. She thought I was his consort and was afraid I would bear him a child. I feel my cheeks burning, wondering how she would react if she knew that I had in fact been messing around with one of the princes, just not the one she thought.

“Tell me what happened at the coronation,” I demand, trying to shift the conversation away from myself.

Madoc considers me for an instant, cat eyes calculating. Idly, he picks the sole decoration on his desk: a chess piece, crudely whittled in the shape of a knight.

“Balekin staged a coup,” Madoc explains, his eyes stuck to mine. “Dain and his siblings have died, along with some others. Balekin and Cardan are the only Greenbriars still living.”

“And Balekin needs Cardan to put the crown on his head,” I finish, remembering a lesson I had at the palace, weeks ago.

The crown can only be on the head of someone with Mab’s blood, and the crown must be given willingly. If there are no heirs left, or only one, the crown crumbles, leaving Elfhame in what would surely be a state of chaos.

Madoc grunts his approval. “He has stalled for as long as he could. The lower courts will start leaving Elfhame soon without swearing allegiance.”

So Balekin’s the one who sent us the note. He needs the lower courts to be here to swear allegiance once Cardan puts the crown on his head. He probably thinks that Cardan will help him willingly. As horrible as it sounds to me, I am inclined to believe that, too. The bits and pieces that I have seen of their relationship are terrible, and yet not as bad as everything else Cardan’s family has put him through. Balekin, at least, gave him attention.

“I am glad you came here before going to him,” Madoc continues.

As I had imagined, he has a plan of his own. He used to be associated with Dain, and now that Dain is dead… would he associate himself with Balekin?

“Give the foppish boy to me, and I will get you whatever you want. You wanted to be a knight, didn’t you?” As he says this, he pushes the chess piece towards me, an offering. Perhaps even an apology for refusing me once, months ago.

You’re no killer, Madoc had told me so long ago. He seems delighted that I proved him wrong.

I frown, trying to figure out Madoc’s angle. With only two Greenbriar left, there are only two people who could be High King: Balekin or Cardan. Madoc would never consider putting Cardan on the throne, not that Balekin would ever let him. Unless Madoc thinks he can manipulate Cardan into doing his bidding, but I doubt he sees Cardan as anything other than a useless cause. Does he want to kill Cardan, making it impossible for the crown to be willingly given? It would plunge Elfhame into chaos, and he loves bloodshed—not as much as the art of war itself, however. All that chaos does not sound like something Madoc would want.

There is a piece of this puzzle I am missing.

Feuding brothers. Balekin trying to undermine Dain, Dain sending me to Balekin’s home to steal proof of foul play, Cardan saying that Dain poisoned Liriope, Locke’s Mother, who used to be a consort to the High King, but who got pregnant with Dain’s child.

A child that Dain murdered, not only because Eldred could find out, but because that would be another heir to fight him for the crown.

Take him far from the dangers of this Court. Keep him safe.

The realization hits me full force, the pieces coming together to form an image—incomplete, but still.

Madoc does not want to crown Cardan, nor does he want to kill him. Like Balekin does, he needs Cardan to crown someone. Except that he does not want to crown Balekin.

Madoc knows of another descendant of Mab who could take the crown.

I could lie to him. I could promise him Cardan. I doubt he would realize it. Yet, I find myself stalling, fishing for more information. “When is the coronation?” I ask.

“Balekin would want it as soon as possible. If I send word, it can be organized for tomorrow at nightfall.”

I nod obediently. “I will speak with Cardan. I’m sure we can all come to an understanding.”

“So do I,” Madoc agrees.

I rise and he follows suit. He unlocks the office door, opening it for me. Before I can leave, he rests a large hand on my head and I look up at him.

“My daughter,” Madoc says, a thin smile unveiling the tips of his tusks. “It’s good to have you home.”

——

tag list: @figonas @godgavemelou @adxmparriish @kingandfireheart @zumurruds @inconspicuoussophia @idonotcareaboutyouropinion

#the folk of the air #tfota #jurdan #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #cardan #folk of the air #the cruel prince #c2c

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kissmejusttokissme · 2 years

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Teaser for the Waiting Room companion fic in which the gang save Max:

The door creaks open to a village centre and Max rushes out into the falling snow. Around her is almost complete darkness broken up only by the light of a burning fire. Like the sort that her step-dad would build on the fourth of July. Big enough that, at the right angle, it makes everything near it look alight. Except this isn’t a fourth of July party. It’s a patch of cobblestone and dirt between half a dozen log houses.

Max’s mom used to tell her that there’s a danger in knowing things. Her voice dropping to a whisper as she dragged a brush through Max’s hair. A finality in her words. The only life lesson Max’s mom had ever willingly given her.

(Max had once gotten three weeks of detention for ripping page twenty out of her copy of The Great Gatsby. She hadn't thought about it before doing it. She just knew that she had to. As if just having the words near her were proving her mom right.)

As she walks towards the fire, an entire universe of stars flashing above her in clouds of purple and blue, Max remembers the tremble in her mom’s voice. She had never stopped to question what it had been that made her mom so scared of the world. Never wanted to think that her mom could be scared of anything.

“It’s hard,” someone had once said to her. “To realise your parents don’t know everything.”

But Max has never wanted her mom to know everything, she just wanted her to protect her.

The snow has melted around the base of the fire and in its place are pools tinged with red. So diluted that Max almost doesn’t notice. But she’s seen enough bloody sinks to know what the stain looks like no matter how much of it is actually left behind. And there is too much here. She looks down at her hands and they’re dripping with it. Crimson red and dark against her pale skin.

Suddenly, she's standing in Starcourt mall. Then she's standing in the village square, pressed between shouting bodies, as someone screams in the flames. Finally, she’s standing in the snow and Eddie Munson has his hand on her shoulder.

“Time to go, little Red,” he says. “This one’s not for you.”

She stares at him. “You’re not real.”

“What I’d give for people to stop saying that,” he says and then he’s not Eddie anymore. He’s not anything. An empty space with the weight of a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t read you.” A hundred voices say. “I can’t tell what you need.”

Max stumbles back. “I’m not scared of you.”

“I’m glad,” the voices say. “Because this could be scary.” The village around them starts to melt, tar dripping from the roofs and spilling across the snow until the entire world is a sea of black. “You’re so far away from yourself.”

Max closes her eyes and tries to think of something happy. She has done it before. She could do it again. Wash all of this away and replace it with something kind. A place where she could just put herself back together.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice has lost its echo and when Max opens her eyes, it’s not Eddie or the void but a copy of herself standing there. “Though, the way you are, I’m surprised if anyone could.”

“How- How’re you doing that?”

“I can’t see inside your head,” the other Max says. “And there are no bodies in this place.” The other Max tilts her head, long red hair falling across her face. “Would you like me to change? I can go back but I need to be something. It gets lost if I,” the other max shakes her head. “I do not do well in this place.”

“Where are we?” Max asks. “Do you- Did you bring me here?”

Max’s memories are hazy from the night of the battle. She remembers the snow dance. How Eleven turned up and saved her from Vecna. She also remembers crying in Lucas’ arms. The feeling of everything going still. So still that it all disappeared. Fear. Sadness. Pain. All of it.

“Am I in hell?” Max asks because it’s been eating away at her since the moment she opened her eyes.

“You sound so unsure.” The other Max says. “Do you think you deserve to be in hell?”

“I think I deserve a straight answer.”

“This isn’t hell,” the girl says. “I don’t even know if hell exists.” She tilts her head again. “Or perhaps it does but in the ways we don’t expect.”

“So, this isn’t hell, where is it?” Max feels her shoulders getting tight with stress. “Is it Vecna? Is that what all this is about?”

“Vecna,” the girl repeats as if she’s reminding herself of something. “No, not him. Not as such. A trace of him perhaps. A lingering touch. But nothing to be afraid of.”

Max scoffs. “Yeah, right.” Her arms are folded over her chest and she doesn’t care what this is, she’s getting tired of the riddles. “Are you going to tell me where I am or am I just going to have to keep walking?”

“I don’t know where you are,” the other Max says. “But I know where you’re going.” She holds out a hand, freckled and pale. “If you’re willing to take a chance I can help you get back to yourself.”

It feels antithetical to everything Max has learned, but her only other option is wandering the lengths of the void till either it ends or she withers away. Even a trap had to be better than this. At least then she might be able to finally get some rest.

Hesitantly, she reaches out and takes her own hand, the feeling of the other Max’s skin cool against her own. No pulse, she notices as she grips tighter, nothing to say she has ever been alive.

She keeps her eyes open as the world fades around her. She’s seen the dark far too many times.

#waiting room #savior complex #max mayfield #god i just love morrigan so much dream creature #stranger things fic

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luvnami · 3 years

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𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - wahh it’s here! can’t believe my brainrot of osamu teaching a cooking class turned into this long fic lol... i hope you enjoy it!! it was fun crafting the story with my beta readers and i put a lot of effort into it!!! itadakimasu <3

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @forgetou @amjustagirl (muacks 2x) + tq to everyone who helped me with the banner!!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - you’re suna’s younger sibling, food, heartbreak, angst but happy ending, mentions of stabbing (joke), kita dances to ‘ice cream’ by selena gomez and blackpink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood (brief), suna beats (redacted) up

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - miya osamu x gn!reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - you fall in love with miya osamu once more, but you’re afraid of getting hurt again.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5535

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

1. Cook the rice according to your rice cooker, then transfer the cooked rice to a separate bowl to cool it down.

“What ya want t’do is scorch the soy sauce.”

The class presses themselves against Osamu’s workbench as they scribble down notes on their recipe printouts. Their lips purse to ooh and aah at his cooking skills, though you’re pretty sure that they’re more interested in how his biceps flex when he flips the wok with a trained flick of the wrist.

You stand at the very edge of the group. It’s better than getting close with a group of hungry housewives, really. If grocery store and department mall sales have ever told you anything, it’s to never get in the way of what a seasoned housewife wants. Unfortunately for you, you haven’t learnt the way of being a homemaker just yet.

You’re unemployed, right in the middle of a month and a half-ish long transfer between jobs. You currently stay at your brother Suna’s place — which is really just an apartment filled with dirty laundry overflowing from its seams.

Turns out Suna himself is a bit of a gossip. He told Kita who told Atsumu who told Osamu that you’re stuck at his place 24/7 with no friends or entertainment in the lovely city of Nagano. It’s just mountains and trees as far as the eye can see all around — and there’s only so many hikes you can take each week.

“Why don’t you take a cookin’ class?”

“Cookin’?” Your face screwed up in confusion. “ What for?”

“So that you can actually pull your weight around the house and make me something to eat.”

You chucked a pillow at his head and began to list all the things you did while staying at his apartment. Laundry, cleaning the floor, doing grocery shopping (even if it was only instant noodles and snacks), finding his disgustingly sweaty socks under the sofa and many other important chores, thank you very much.

Besides, you weren’t as eager when you saw who was the one that would be holding the classes. With his picture plastered across the front of a pamphlet, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Years of chasing his dreams and training in a kitchen had done Osamu wonders.

You had half a mind to smack Suna in the head with the yellow, glossy paper, but instead you quietly tucked it into a corner of the guest room to look at later. You were sure Suna hadn’t forgotten your history with Osamu just yet — but perhaps he assumed that enough time had passed to heal your wounds.

Either way, there’s no going back now. That’s how you ended up at Osamu’s ‘Cooking class for homemakers — you can do it too!’, except you aren’t a homemaker. You shift your weight from one foot to the other as the sound of sizzling soy sauce fills the air. Osamu pauses for a while before beginning to mix the rice with the sauce, wielding his spatula and wok expertly like weapons.

“Miya-san, you’re amazing!” someone gushes.

He lets out a bashful laugh. “This is nothing. I’m sure everyone will be able to do this by the end of class today!”

You wonder if he’s ever considered being a teacher. The demonstration on how to make shrimp fried rice is soon over and everyone returns to their benches, eager to try out the recipe. You are no different. Scurrying to your bench at the very back of the classroom, you exchange glances between the printed recipe handout and your tray of ingredients.

“Need any help?”

Osamu’s voice and looming presence makes you jump.

“Woah! Careful there,” he chuckles, his fingers gently prying a knife out of your hands.

Unconsciously, you had raised it in shock when Osamu snuck up on you. The knife now lays safely on the tabletop and you feel the eyes of the entire class boring into you.

“Sorry, Miya-san. I didn’t see you,” you apologise meekly.

“Don’t worry about it, I shouldn't have scared ya like that. And no need for the formalities! You’re my friend’s sister, afta’ all.”

Oh goodness. You half expect the class to pick up their pots and pans and run at you right this moment. You swallow back the half hearted ‘Osamu-san’ that rises in your throat. Your heart trembles in your chest and for a second, the silence that weighs heavily between the both of you turns awkward.

“Miya-san! Could you help me with this please?”

You’ve never been so glad to hear Tachibana’s sickly shrill voice before. Osamu is quick to wave goodbye to you before hurrying over to her bench, a smile still on his face. You breathe a sigh of relief.

You make a mental note to tell Suna that Osamu should just stick to placating those housewives and leave you the hell alone. The last thing you want is to have blackmail spread around the neighbourhood by these gossipy housewives, or worse, have their daughters hunt you down and chop you up into pieces.

Whatever. You’re just here to learn how to make shrimp fried rice and then go home to your annoying older brother. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be here for long. Miya Osamu just happens to be the local heartthrob, the handsome and eligible bachelor chased by anyone single and ready to mingle. You have absolutely nothing to do with someone so popular and good-looking. And for goodness sake, he’s your brother’s high school friend and your… Well, you know.

Your face burns and you pick up the knife again, grip tightening on its handle. You begin chopping at the onions with renewed determination.

(Later on, when you bring back a tupperware of fried rice for Suna, he looks you in the eye and asks “Shrimp fried this rice?”.

You shoot him a glare.

“I fried this rice.”)

2. Prepare all the fillings that you are going to use and set aside, such as pickled plums or tuna mayo. Prepare your seaweed sheets.

What you don’t expect is for Miya Osamu to show up at your doorstep the next day with boxes of food, cartons of drinks and a very noisy brother of his in tow.

“Rin, where can I leave the drinks?” Osamu yells.

“Rin, can I play your PS5?” Atsumu shouts.

You think that they are very different, the Miya twins. Suna takes a minute to finish putting on some clothes (you had answered the door, thankfully. No one wants to see Suna Rintarou in Pikachu boxers) before bursting out of his room.

He’s quick to smack Atsumu’s ‘dirty little setter hands’ away from his precious Playstation, directing Osamu to what constitutes the apartment’s kitchen — a second-hand fridge and the building-installed gas stove that works only if you hit it hard enough. You’re surprised that neither you or Suna haven't died of a house fire or gas poisoning by now.

It doesn’t take long for the other Inarizaki alumni to arrive at Suna’s apartment in a series of doorbell rings. Kita even brings along a large bottle of sake, to which everyone cheers loudly. You don’t understand why they had chosen Suna’s place to have a reunion party. Seriously, wouldn't Onigiri Miya or some other izakaya have been a better choice?

However, there’s free flow of drinks and lots of yummy snacks, so you decide to let the noise wash over you and stand by the food table to pick at the trays of pizza, fried chicken and other finger food. Aran even offers you a drink, smiling sweetly before going off to wrangle Atsumu from trying to initiate a beer chugging competition. Some things just never change, you suppose.

“Having fun?”

You jump and nearly drop the plate of food that you hold.

“You have a horrible habit of scaring people, Miya- Osamu.”

His first name comes out awkward, tumbling off of your tongue as you use a pair of chopsticks to carefully pile back some mentaiko mayonnaise onto a slice of tamagoyaki. Osamu settles into the crook of the kitchen counter next to you with a playful grin on his face.

“Do I really?”

“Don’t forget that the first time you did that, someone nearly got stabbed.”

You pop the tamagoyaki into your mouth. It’s delicious — the egg’s sweetness balances out the salty sauce. You wonder if there’s enough left on the tray for seconds.

“How’s the reunion going?” you ask nonchalantly, and shuffle a few centimetres away from him.

You hope Osamu doesn’t notice that. He does, however, but chooses not to comment on it. He brings up a hand to scratch at his neck, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. He’s close enough for you to get a whiff of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Your head spins for a second.

“Oh, none of us have gotten drunk just yet. I’m pretty sure we’ll be playing beer pong or something later on.”

You steel yourself against the urge to look at what Osamu is wearing. Don’t look, don’t look, definitely don’t look. Miya Osamu is, has been, a dangerous man to fall in love with. You can’t afford to-

Perhaps gouging your eyes out would have been a better choice in theory. Even a glance from where you stand beside him is enough to see that not only is he wearing a tight, black T-shirt, Osamu also has a pair of sweatpants on. Is it a sin to wear sweatpants? Probably so, especially with the way it makes your throat run dry.

“Beer pong, huh?” You try your best to mumble somewhat nonchalantly. “Who won the last time?”

“Kita.”

“Kita?!” you gasp.

Even that’s enough to make you forget about Osamu and his stupid (and very sexy) sweatpants.

“Yeah, right? That was the first time he participated. All of us got left drunk in the street, so we decided to do it at someone’s place this year.”

You let out a soft laugh at the thought of a bunch of grown men piled over each other on the road. You don’t particularly like the thought of cleaning up after them tonight, though.

The lack of words between you and Osamu descends into snorts of laughter that trickle in from the tiny living room. Aran throws his head back, drink nearly spilling out of his cup. Ginjima laughs so loud you see Omiomi cover his ears and Suna holds his phone up, filming every second of Atsumu’s defeat.

Osamu opens his mouth as if to ask you something.

“C’mon! Yer killin’ me, Kita-san!” Atsumu yells, socked feet and waving arms trying to match the onscreen character’s movements.

Kita, on the other hand, is scoring perfect marks without as much effort wasted. You giggle to yourself as he moves his hips, shaking them here and there. A small smile quirks his lips upwards as he finishes with a flawless ending move on ‘Ice Cream’, the Just Dance characters fading into oblivion on the screen. Atsumu crumbles to the floor in defeat.

Osamu’s lips form a straight line as he watches you laugh along, raising a hand to cover your mouth. He curses Atsumu’s birth and swallows back his embarrassment.

“Did ya see that, Osamu? Oh- Kita-san is so good at everything!” you gush.

“Atsumu just sucks.”

When you laugh, Osamu thinks something in his chest lurches. Regret makes his head go foggy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

3. Place cling wrap over a rice bowl. Place some of the cooked rice over the centre of the cling wrap and make a well.

“No way ya got a love letter!” Atsumu yelled.

“Ya get yer fair share. We share t’same face, why shouldn’t I get some?” Osamu retorted, rolling his eyes.

Suna watched as the twins began to gripe and argue about who was the better looking sibling again. Nothing unusual, really, given how this occurred every odd day of the week.

“S’gotta be a prank. No way someone likes a loser like you,” Suna mused.

In retaliation, Osamu threw him a stink eye. “You two are just jealous,” he sniffed.

The letter had been written on pretty pink paper, all hearts and cute handwriting as his secret admirer asked him to meet them on the roof after school. Not that Osamu wasn’t affected by it, of course. It always rubbed his ego the right way to know that someone preferred him over Atsumu. Though, it wasn’t like he was interested in anyone then. It only took a second before Osamu ripped the letter in half.

“Woah woah woah! Yer crazy! Whatcha gonna do if some pretty girl gave that to ya?”

Atsumu’s eyes widened in shock, almost reaching forward to grab the shreds of letter that Osamu had torn up.

“Does it matter? S’not like I’m interested in datin’ right now,” he replied.

“Seriously? What if she’s like, super duper hot!”

Osamu’s face screwed up. “Are ya a horndog?”

Just as Atsumu was about to shout at his dear brother again, you opened the door to their classroom and hurried in. You had a bento box in hand and a cute pout on your face as you placed it on Suna’s table.

“Rin! You forgot your bento at home again!”

“Oh.” Suna blinked. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, you gotta stop forgetting your things! I can’t be bringing them to you all the time-”

“Hey, Suna.” Atsumu perked up, referring to you. “Would ya go on a date with Samu or me? Me, right? Definitely me!”

Your face flushed with heat. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“‘Samu got a love letter in his shoe locker this morning. Cliche, huh?” your brother said between bites of his lunch.

“Mm, yeah. Cliche,” you mumbled.

You looked around anxiously for any sign of the love letter. Was it in Osamu’s bag?

“Can ya believe he tore it up?” Atsumu laughed.

“What?”

Your heart felt like a stone in your chest as you froze, your blood running cold.

“Yeah! This dumbass doesn’t know how t’appreciate anythin’,” he replied, smacking Osamu on the back of his head.

His twin responded with a muffled growl as he continued to scarf down his absurdly large bento. You fiddled with the cuffs of your sleeves, staring down at your feet. You were quick to bid the third years goodbye as you fled their classroom as an inexplicable ache spread through your chest.

You didn’t focus on your classes for the rest of the day. The fact that Osamu had torn your love letter, written with all your heart and soul as you crumpled draft after draft last night, tipped you over the edge of your fantasies and had you plummeting straight into reality.

“Oi.”

You looked up from your feet, glancing up at Suna. The both of you were swapping your indoor shoes for outdoor ones, but you had absentmindedly stopped in the middle of slipping your right foot into a shoe. It was nearing the time where they closed the school gates, so there weren’t many students around save for the odd volleyball club member.

“What’re you doing? Put your shoes on properly,” he huffed.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, and slammed the locker door shut once you were done.

You walked a few feet ahead of Suna as you approached the school gate. Your head drooped with each step, tears beginning to mist your eyes. You willed yourself to hold it in till you got home, till you were in the safety of your bedroom to start sobbing your little heart out. Suna tugged on your wrist.

“Are you crying?” he questioned.

You shook your head quickly, rubbing your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“Oi. Answer me.”

This time, his voice was a little softer, yet held a mixture of irritation and anger behind a crumbling wall of apathy. Who had been the one to make you cry?

“It’s nothin’,” you choked out. “Let’s just go home.”

You turned your face to the side as tears continued to roll down your cheeks, muffled cries turning into heartbroken sobs. Something inside of Suna’s head clicked.

“It’s Miya Osamu, isn’t it?”

You had to bite on your lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“That bastard tore up your letter, didn’t he?”

You gave Suna the tiniest of nods. He let go of your wrist and whipped around, eyebrows furrowed together. Not wanting to date was one thing, but treating your confession like dog shit was something else. Fortunately for him, the Miya twins were changing their shoes in the getabako.

“‘Samu!” Suna yelled.

The gray haired male looked up with a face of confusion.

“Suna? Whaddya want-” Osamu wasn’t able to say anything more as Suna’s fist collided with his face.

Atsumu jumped back with a yelp as the both of them crashed to the ground. Your hands flew to cover your mouth.

“Rin! Stop it!” you cried out.

You dashed over, tripping over your own feet as you tried to pull Suna away from Osamu as they traded blows. It took the work of you, Atsumu and Ginjima (who had been unlucky enough to pass by) to tear the two apart, and even then Osamu was still struggling in his brother’s arms to be let go.

“What t’hell, man!” he snarled.

Suna wiped his nose, glancing briefly at the crimson that stained his school uniform. The adrenaline was beginning to run low and pain began to settle into his fists and ribs. His shoulders heaved with each breath, and your hands clutched his shirt.

“Rin. No more, please,” you begged, pressing your forehead against his back. “No more.”

Suna hated the way your voice trembled as you spoke. He didn’t think it was fair for you to bear the burden of pain while Osamu got to walk away unscathed, leaving you broken in pieces. His fist curled up again.

“It’s not worth it, Rin.”

Suna took in a shaky, deep breath.

You were right.

Miya Osamu wasn’t worth it.

4. Put about 1tbsp of the filling of your choice on the centre of the rice and cover it with rice.

A week comes and goes after the annual Inarizaki reunion. You’re still finding sticky stains on the floor, as well as food wrappers tossed behind the sofa. Suna sends the group chat a video of you yelling at all of them while wielding a mop with so much fervour Aran asks if you broke it. Atsumu actually apologises and Osamu offers to come over and help clean up. The entire group chat flames him immediately.

As per last week, you walk into Osamu’s cooking class at 2p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. It’s hot outside, droplets of perspiration rolling down your nape. The cool air-conditioning of the classroom is much appreciated and you don your apron behind the gaggle of housewives. You catch snippets of their conversation as they put their items in the cubbies provided.

“Tanaka-san, did you see the mushrooms that were on sale this Monday?”

“My son is attending this cram school this summer. Here’s the address!”

“My father-in-law keeps complaining about the heat…”

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

“Miya-san!”

Everyone perks up when Osamu walks through the door. They’re quick to surround him, asking how his day had been. You look tired, take this ginseng drink! It really revitalises your spirits! Did you get a girlfriend yet, Miya-san? My daughter is single, you know!

You watch as Osamu walks behind his bench, all smiles and “Is that so, Shigeru-san?”. Polite enough to please them, but not enough to make them think that he actually wants to go on a date with their 34 year-old daughter who’s a tired office worker looking out for potential husbands like a hawk. He lets out a heavy exhale, using his cap with the Onigiri Miya logo on it to fan himself.

“Hot today, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

You think that maybe he’s the one that’s making this summer so warm, especially with the way that his shirt clings to his figure and his flushed cheeks that make him look adorable.

Wait.

You do a double take. Ah, adorable. You must have meant that heart-print apron that Tanaka is wearing today. It is pretty cute, and you wonder if you should ask her where she got it from later on. Definitely not Osamu with his perfect smile that would make anyone’s heart skip a beat, and definitely not when it’s directed at you.

“Gather around everyone! We’re going to be making gyoza today!”

The demonstration goes as usual — Osamu impresses the housewives, they gasp and someone even touches his forearm and asks “How did you get so strong, Miya-san?”. Not that you care, of course. You certainly don’t. What you’re more concerned about is how Osamu manages to make wrapping the fragile gyoza seem so easy.

Your fingers pinch at the thick dough, eyebrows furrowed together. No matter what you do, your filling keeps spilling out of the wrapper and so you’ve opted to try out for a thicker piece this time. Not that it really matters — Suna will be the one suffering from food poisoning if it turns out bad, anyways.

“Ah, yer made it too thick,” Osamu says as he strolls over.

You tense up as he leans over your shoulder, peeking at the chubby gyoza in your hands. You pretend not be affected by how close he is and continue pinching the wings of the dumpling shut.

“They keep bursting,” you sniff.

“Maybe ya put t’much filling?” Osamu suggests. “Here, lemme show ya. Put tha’ one down and grab a new wrapper. Yeah, just like that.”

You stiffen as Osamu flours his hands and cradles your hands in his.

“Here ya go. That’s t’much, scoop out some more. That’s it. Now gently…”

Blood rushes to your face as you feel the warmth of his skin seep into yours, his hands rough from years of training and cooking. Scars adorn the tips of his thick fingers and knuckles. You suddenly feel the urge to gently trace them with your thumb, to ask him how he got each one of them.

Would he let you? Let you so close, that perhaps you would be the one to know every single thing about him?

“You did it!” Osamu says cheerfully.

He suddenly pulls away, making you plummet back to reality. A perfectly made gyoza sits in your hands.

“I’m looking forward to tasting your gyoza later on. Now keep trying!”

You’re left dumbfounded as Osamu walks away to help out the other housewives. They stammer and blush when they get too close, but he never holds their hands in his own, never smiles as gently as he does with you.

You place the gyoza on a pan and put the lid on with a little bit more force than what is necessary.

5. Wrap the cling wrap over the rice and squeeze and mould it into a triangle shape with your hands.

You try not to make contact with Osamu after that. Attending his cooking classes becomes a game of cat-and-mouse, where you try to tell him ‘I don’t need any help, Miya-san’ and watch him crawl away in defeat. In fact, you decide to skip the lesson on making hamburgs and instead spend the afternoon watching television.

After all, from what you’ve learnt in the past, Osamu is nothing more than trouble. You think it’s worth the sacrifice now to put some space between the both of you so that you don’t end up heartbroken a second time.

Though, you do feel a little bad. Just a little bit. One day when Suna’s out at training, you hear the doorbell ring and Osamu’s voice ring through the genkan. You hear his feet shuffle by the door and a heavy thump outside before he leaves. You only open the door when you hear his car pull out of the apartment building’s carpark, and find a packed bento lunch for you in front.

You try to pretend that the bunny cut apples and sakura shaped carrot slices don’t mean anything.

“Ah, Suna-san! Where were you last week?” Tachibana titters as you step into class for the final lesson.

“I wasn’t feeling very well,” you lie. “I think I caught a summer cold.”

“Oh dear, that sounds terrible!” the ladies chorus together.

You think they’re probably just glad that you didn’t get in the way of their beloved Miya-san. You tug your apron over your head, and ignore Osamu when he greets everyone. His eyes linger on you for a little too long during the demonstration — to the point that he actually burns the skin side of his salmon fillet.

Osamu skirts around your bench like a nervous puppy when the demonstration is over. You don’t seem particularly keen about talking to him, though the tips of your finger tremble when he finally plucks up the courage to stand next to you. It’s not close enough for your elbows to touch, but close enough that he can whisper to you without anyone else hearing him.

“Hey,” he begins, uncertain. His voice wavers slightly.

“Hey,” you reply, wary of what he might say.

“Are you okay?”

You take a moment to think, tipping the sake bottle carefully to measure out an exact tablespoon of it. He wonders when your hands have seemed so delicate, so small. He aches to hold them in his own again.

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good.”

It’s quiet, again. Just like that night in Suna’s apartment, with all the noise of the reunion going on around you, except this time it's the clanging of pans and utensils, paired with the chatter of many ladies.

“I was thinking…” Osamu stares down at your hands, turning the measuring spoon over so that sake splashes onto the hot pan with a sizzle. “Maybe we could get a drink together after this?”

You cover the pan and watch its surface cloud up with condensation. You hide your shaking hands by digging them into the pockets of your apron.

Osamu swallows. Perhaps he had been too direct with you; scared you off with how quickly he was advancing. Or did Suna tell you to be careful of him? That he didn’t want you falling in love with him a second time? There’s no lie about it, that Osamu had been a grade A asshole back in high school.

But he loves you now; has loved you since then. Would you be willing to give him a second chance?

“Osamu,” you breathe.

His shoulders relax slightly when you don’t call him by his last name.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Your voice comes out timid, scared. Osamu’s heart crumbles at the edges. He wonders if you would hate him if he reached out and took your hands in his once more. You’re both adults, perfectly capable of rational thinking if only your hearts hadn’t gotten in the way. Love hurts, they said. You want to agree.

“We can start it out slow,” Osamu suggests.

“I’m supposed to start my new job next month. I won't be in Nagano for much longer.”

“I’m opening a branch in Tokyo.”

“I’ll be busy settling down. We might not get to see each other often enough.”

“A little is better than nothin’.”

“You’re my brother’s friend.”

“Now, yer just picking at nothing, babe. Didn’t you have a crush on me back in high school, too? That didn’t stop ya, did it?”

Your heart wrestles with your brain, insisting on comfort and that love will always come in the form of someone that isn’t Miya Osamu. You’ll find someone, but will they be better? Will they send food to your doorstep, or send you stupid photos of dogs he saw on the street? Will they chase after you relentlessly for years, will they be Osamu?

A lump forms in your throat and you wonder if this, has been, is love. You tear your heart out from within you and let it cling to your sleeve, as pathetic and scared it is. You don’t mind if it hurts. To never hurt is to never have lived, to never have loved.

By this point, your eyes have misted up with tears and it hits you- You’re about to cry about your crush in the middle of a cooking class attended by middle-aged ladies. You’ve never been more embarrassed.

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at Osamu with glittering eyes.

He ignores the “Miya-san! I need your help!” that rings out in the background. He smiles gently.

“Yeah, really.”

A tear slips down your face. Osamu lets out a breathy chuckle as he swipes it away with his thumb, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“We’ll talk properly after this, alright?”

You nod numbly. You watch as he hurries off to Shigeru, gasping when he sees how she had completely butchered her fillet. He turns back to you, trying to hold in a snigger.

You giggle.

Osamu thinks he wants to hear that laugh forever.

6. Remove the cling wrap and cover the bottom of the rice triangle with a nori sheet and set aside.

“One extra large bonito onigiri with spring onions!” you cry out from the counter.

Back in the kitchen, Osamu and another part-time worker scoop steaming rice out of large vats and use their hands to mould them into perfectly shaped triangles. A scoop of filling goes in and a strip of seaweed is wrapped hastily around the onigiri before it's sent to you to package. You place the onigiri carefully into a box and slip it into a paper bag with the shop’s logo on the front for a take-away order.

The shop is filled with customers even on a Wednesday afternoon. The clock shows 2p.m., past lunch time, yet you can see a queue that snakes out of the shop and down the alleyway.

Another long day ahead, you think to yourself.

“It’s our turn!” a little girl squeals as she takes the bag from you, opening it up to peer at the huge onigiri inside. “Mama! ‘giri!”

Her mother laughs and pats her head. “Don’t forget to say thank you, Haru.”

The girl turns to you, eyes sparkling. “‘Fank you, Miya-shan!”

A cheery grin almost splits your face in half. Miya-san. Four years on and it still makes your stomach flip whenever you hear that Osamu’s last name has become yours. It was an easy decision for the both of you to get married, really. You had loved each other for years and all you wanted to do in the end was to spend the rest of your lives together.

You quit your office job just before you got married to help Osamu out with the new Onigiri Miya branches. It took some getting used to, but the familiar customers and bright smiles that you see just by serving onigiri each day makes it worth it. It’s tough work, no doubt. But doing what you enjoy with the man you love is more rewarding than it ever could be.

Though, it’s not like your relationship has always been smooth sailing. There are days when you bicker over something stupid (like how you always forget to close the lid of the rice cooker), or when Osamu insists that he isn’t overworking himself (although his eyebags tell otherwise). But love’s a recipe with a few secret ingredients, and you’ve come to master it over the years.

“Come back soon!”

The shop is filled with the fragrant scent of freshly cooked rice and bonito flakes being stir-fried into furikake. Customers perch on tiny stools as they scarf down onigiri of different shapes and sizes, licking their fingers clean. A plush toy of Onigiri Miya’s mascot sits on the counter next to a potted plant that Atsumu bought (which is surprisingly still alive).

A photograph of the third Tokyo branch’s grand opening hangs on the wall. You and Osamu hold up a bouquet of flowers, smiling toothily at the camera, your wedding rings glinting in the sunlight.

“One medium onigiri with tuna mayo, coming right up!”

You jump as Osamu shouts out the order suddenly and you nearly drop the onigiri that he hands to you.

“Woah, careful there,” he chuckles, a hand ghosting the small of your back.

“You have ‘ta stop scaring me, ‘Samu,” you huff and roll your eyes playfully.

Osamu grins at you and the edges of his eyes crinkle up. You place the onigiri safely into its packaging and place it on the counter for a customer to collect, before turning back to plant a kiss on his cheek. Osamu’s face flushes pink and he hurries away, mumbling something about bonito flakes.

Your heart soars in your chest.

Yeah, it has been, will be, worth it.

7. Repeat the same steps as above to use the rest of the rice with other fillings that you prepared.

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afrogirl3005 · 2 years

Text

My SuperStar

Glamrock Freddy/ gn/poc reader

Your Placed in the Fazbear Pizzaplex forced to attend your snot nosed cousins 8th birthday. A familliar face or shall I say bear takes a liking to you and through some unxepected events involving some locked doors and sentient animatronics you find yourself stuck in the huge mall-esque pizzplex. Get comfy, grab a snack and enjoy exploring the facility with your favorite animatronic bear.

Your Pov: Why am I even here, I mean I don’t even like my 8 year old snot nosed cousin and I absolutely do not like places like this. I mean the bright light and loud music completely leave me discombobulated … but then again I get to come for free soooooo…, I’m soon snapped out of my thoughts “Ok everyone we're going to meet our very special guest!” , My aunt unbearably continues “ Everyone say hello to Freddy!!!” I soon hear loud and I mean loud and large mechanical footsteps coming closer along with the sound of 40 screaming children. It’s non other than everybody’s favorite bear in the middle of the room. He towers over them all including myself I can only assume he’s about six feet tall “ Hello My Superstars, who’s ready for the most rocking birthday ever!!” He seemed very… articulated. I see him sort of look over all of the room of brats, but for some strange reason my face gets warm when he stares at me I think he’s been doing it for a bit to long and while you can’t see it I’m blushing.

Freddie’s Pov : Seeing all of the smiling childrens faces bring my so much joy “Hello My Superstars!” An uproar of laughter erupts from their happy faces. My programing requires me to scan all occupants in the room. As I am doing just that my eyes come across, a face, her face. My programing must be malfunctioning... but I never had this sort of software problem. Never Mind I continue as I always "I have something for the birthday boy." I see a little boy with what seems to be some sort of orange dust on his face " here you go superstar your very own party pass, feel free to explore the pizzaplex" The party goers then exit the room, all except one. " um.. hello?" she spoke to me " um yes hello, will you not be joining the other party- goers ." I feel My-self getting warmer ... odd. I realize my battery is low I must charge. "Well superstar have a rocking time." I deliver with a charming wink. "Thank ... you." I leave and while I enter my charging center all I can think about is them.

Your Pov: "Man that was weird." as the bear walks away. I take his advice... sort of. I head to the furthest bathroom in the place just so no kids will annoy me. I check the time "10:30 It's almost closing time." Whelp I can wait it out.

Narrators Pov:

You start goggling the origins of this place. Your reminded of the stories tied to this place. You lose track of time enamored with the lore of the building you check the time once more "11:15 aww man I hope the doors are still open my aunt was my ride." You exit the stall doors into the empty megaplex "Oof a lot more spooky empty." You make your way to to the front but your feeling watch "maybe its the animatronics" you say to yourself. you walk past their rooms. you begin to hear footsteps that are not your own. You turn your head and see a unfamiliar figure creeping twards you. You see it starts gaining speed, you want to run but your stuck in place almost as if your accepting fate. All of a sudden you've been pulled in to a room not knowing who that heroic hand was you turn your head and...

To Be Continued.

Thank you all for reading see you next time. ~Afro

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seita · 4 years

Text

— you love too easy | hitoshi shinsou (m.)

pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟾𝟹𝟾𝟶

cw: childhood friends!au, roommate!au

tags: unrequited love, pining, toxic relationship (oc x shinsou), brief kaminari x reader, cunnilignus, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, fingering, size kink, loss of virginity, light virgin kink, creampie, squirting, angst with a happy ending

note: sorry if u like kaminari. i made him a huge douchebag in this. i swear i like him i just needed a character to be,,,,well, a douchebag.

— all your life you'd been by his side. you've loved him since you could remember. you've always been by his side so why did he give his heart away to everyone but you; the one who would treat it right?

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He fell in love too easily. You knew that your entire life. He’d give his heart away to anyone and everyone, fully and with everything he had. He loved with every fiber of his being. And it always ended in disaster.

You couldn’t count how many nights you’d spent by his side rubbing his back as he cried because his girlfriend lied to him, comforting him as he hunched over a toilet after crying himself sick because his girlfriend cheated on him, or forcing him to eat because he got so depressed after she ignored him.

It was an endless cycle.

Yet you were always there to build him back up -- to pick up the pieces.

Ever since the first girlfriend he had in Kindergarten that lasted for 2 days and ended in his tears up to the girl he dated in senior year of highschool who cheated on him with her ex...you were the one to fix him.

Yes, Hitoshi Shinsou fell in love far too easily and way too hard.

The thought that kept you awake every night, however, was why couldn’t it be you? You were the one who took the best care of his heart -- being the one to piece it back together every time it was broken. He didn’t need to love anyone else. If he just loved you, he would never have to worry if he just gave his heart to you.

But he never would.

Because he didn’t love you like you loved him.

You’d known him since you were babies -- your parents were friends in highschool and it went on well into adulthood.

Naturally, the two of you grew close -- it was inevitable. Your crush on him developed in childhood -- you two got lost in the mall after you strayed away and he kept you safe and calm until you found your parents, his hand clasped tightly around yours as he let you cling to him. That was the first time you realized he made your cheeks feel warm and your tummy fluttery.

Your parents always joked that the two of you would fall in love and get married. It was nearly impossible for that idea not to be imprinted in your mind.

Except, it was never an idea he entertained.

Part of you felt foolish. You were a grown adult with a crush that you’d harbored since childhood -- pathetic, one-sided crush at that.

The thing was, unlike Shinsou, you’d never dated before. It was never something you desired. Sure, you had confessions and love letters but you’d never once accepted them. You just couldn’t see yourself being with anyone but him.

Upon graduating, the two of you realized how terrible it was to be 18 trying to make it in the adult world. After a few years of fumbling and nearly getting kicked out by not making your rent payments on time, you decided that rooming together would be the best idea.

It was a foolproof plan; you’d known each other for your whole lives so it wasn’t like you’d suddenly hate each other, you knew he was responsible with his money and you were too, and he was a quiet, chill guy so there wouldn’t be any obnoxious ruckus.

What you didn’t think about, however, was him bringing girls home.

“This is Aoi,” he introduced, motioning to the smiling girl beside him, “Aoi, this is _____...she’s my best friend.”

“And his roommate,” you added, holding your hand out politely.

“Oh you...live together?” you didn’t miss the distaste in her tone as she reached out to give you a weak handshake, pulling away as quickly as she could. She immediately wrapped her arms around his and he leaned how to press a kiss to the top of her head.

Ouch. That made your heart hurt.

Of course, it was nothing new. This was something you’d been through time and time again.

What you hadn’t accounted for, was her dislike of you. Naturally, his past girlfriends hadn’t always been fond of you -- after all, you were a big part of their boyfriend’s life. And jealousy was a fickle disease.

But Aoi’s dislike bordered on hatred and disgust over you. Every chance she got, she was pulling Shinsou away from you with some thinly veiled excuse. It seemed your best friend was none the wiser as well.

You couldn’t blame him -- he was in love. Unfortunately.

Aoi’s glares were ice cold, often sending shivers down your spine when she set it upon you. It was uncomfortable to say the least. She was at your place often enough for you to take up the art of avoiding her.

That is until one day when things seemed to come to a head for her. You weren’t sure what you did but you found yourself cornered in the kitchen one evening while Shinsou was taking a shower -- leaving just the two of you alone.

“Listen to me,” Aoi spat, arms crossed over her chest, making her look petulant, “You need to back off of Toshi.”

“Uhh...what?” you grunted, looking up from the glass of chocolate milk you were pouring.

“Stay away from him!” she spat.

“We literally live together,” you rolled your eyes, capping the pint of milk, “I can’t stay away from him.”

“You know what I mean,” she hissed, clearly pissed off by your sarcasm. She marched up to you, grabbing your upper arm in a vice grip, her acrylic nails pinching your skin, “I see the way you look at him. I know that look in your eye. You love him.”

Your mind blanked, mouth opening but failing to produce any words. She smirked smugly, stepping back and crossing her arms again.

“I…” your brows came together as you shook your head, finally putting the milk away.

“I knew it,” she huffed, “You can’t take him from me. Toshi is mine so you better remember that. You have no idea what I can do to you.”

With that parting threat, she stormed out of the kitchen back to Shinsou’s bedroom. You felt tears sting your eyes, feeling utterly humiliated by her.

Another thing about Hitoshi Shinsou is he’s terribly dense sometimes. You had no idea how he managed to miss the horrifying tension between you and Aoi. But he somehow did.

The three of you sat in the living room -- the two of them cuddled on the couch while you curled up under a throw blanket with your phone open to Twitter on the loveseat. They were watching some movie Aoi picked out that you knew Shinsou hated, but he watched it anyway. The thought made you bitter.

You’d never make him watch movies he hated. That’s just selfish.

You let out a sigh, catching your best friend’s attention immediately.

“What is it, darlin’?” he asked, the usual pet name he used for you making your stomach flutter. Aoi’s eyes narrowed in distaste at it but he paid her no mind.

“Oh, I’ve just got a bit of a headache,” you mumbled, locking your phone to look over at him.

He frowned, concerned, pulling his arm from around his girlfriend’s shoulders. She whined at the loss, attempting to pull him back but he paid her no mind.

He disappeared from the living room to the kitchen. You could hear the refrigerator open before he began shuffling around the cabinets.

“You’re not slick,” Aoi hissed, keeping her voice low, “Why don’t you just go away. Don’t you think he’d prefer to be alone with his girlfriend? You’re just a third wheel.”

You didn’t get to reply before Shinsou returned, holding a glass of your chocolate milk and a couple pills. He smiled, handing everything to you before taking a seat with Aoi again. She immediately clung to him with a whine.

“Thank you Toshi,” you smiled, popping the pills in your mouth before taking a quick gulp of the milk.

“Anytime, darlin’” he smiled, turning his attention back to the movie he hated.

Part of you felt prideful that he was willing to pull himself away from his girlfriend to take care of you. She clearly saw you as competition and you couldn’t deny the giddy feeling it gave you when you proved to her that you meant something to Shinsou.

You noticed very quickly when Shinsou stopped calling you by his nickname. It baffled you and you didn’t hesitate to bring it up to him.

“Ah, Aoi mentioned she doesn’t like it when I call other girls pet names,” he rubbed the back of his neck in that familiarly anxious way of him. He was avoiding your gaze, further ticking you off.

“I’m not other girls, Hitoshi,” he visibly cringed at hearing his full name, “I’m your best friend. You’ve always called me that.”

He sighed, biting his lip, clearly torn, “Sorry _____,” you frowned at the sound of your name. It seemed so foreign hearing it where he’d usually call you ‘darlin’’, “She is my girlfriend and it’d be shitty of me to neglect her wishes. I want this to work, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest, “This is stupid Hitoshi.”

He sighed, clearly growing annoyed as well, “Look, you’re just my friend, alright? So back off.”

Your jaw fell open at those words, tears already starting to sting at your eyes, “Just your friend? That’s low, Hitoshi. I am not just your friend and you know it.”

He groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair, “You’re starting to sound jealous and clingy, _____. It’s not a good look.”

Feeling that the tears were going to spill any moment, you shook your head and stormed past him, “Screw you Shinsou.”

You slammed your bedroom door, missing the sight of him burying his face in his hands. Hearing you address him by his last name was even worse than hearing his first.

Things remained tense between the two of you for a week. You had really been hurt by his words. You always thought you meant a lot to him -- that you’d never be the person who was pushed aside for a relationship. You never thought Shinsou would do that.

As a result, you made no effort to even speak to him. Sometimes you’d pass him while he sat on the couch, Aoi snuggled up to him. Whenever you made eye contact with you, she held this smug, superior look that made you want to clock her.

You’d never hated a girlfriend of his more.

Finally, Shinsou gave in. He couldn’t stand not having you to talk to. There was this heavy feeling lingering on his shoulders every time he thought about the cold way you called him by his last name. He never wanted to be addressed like that by you.

There were a series of knocks on your door and you paused, debating on ignoring him. He knocked again when you took too long to answer.

“Come in,” you groaned, putting your laptop aside to give him your attention.

“Hey,” he smiled half-heartedly as he slipped into your room, closing the door behind him.

“What do you want?” you asked, no bite in your voice.

He sighed, taking a seat beside you on the bed, “I want to apologize for what I said. I know that hurt your feelings so I’m sorry.”

You were quiet for a moment before you sat up straighter, “Hitoshi...I don’t want you to become a different person because of a girl.”

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

You sighed, “I think she’s a bad influence on you, Toshi.”

He softened briefly at your use of his nickname but it was quickly replaced by a cold stare that sent shivers down your spine, “A-A bad influence? I’m not a kid, _____.”

You frowned, “You don’t have to be a kid to be negatively influenced by another person's toxicity, Hitoshi.”

“You think she’s toxic?” he scoffed, standing up, “You don’t even know her. You’ve barely even spoken to her.”

“Well the bit that I have spoken to her was not pleasant,” you spat, moving to sit at the edge of the bed with your feet on the floor, “I don’t think she’s good for you.”

“What are you, my mother now?” he growled, spinning around to glare at you, “Maybe I was wrong...maybe you are just jealous.”

“How am I acting jealous?” you cried, growing frustrated, “Caring about your wellbeing is jealousy now?”

“Oh get off it,” he groaned, “What’s she done then, huh? Tell me.”

You paused, remembering her threat. But you were so pissed off you couldn’t keep it in anymore, “She’s threatened me to stay away from you. She’s so insecure about our friendship she threatened me over it! Said you were hers and I better remember that. She’s crazy!”

“She didn’t say that,” he argued, eyes narrowed maliciously, “You’re just making shit up to make her look bad now. That’s really low, _____.”

“You asked me to tell you what she did and then you just don’t believe me?!” you screeched, tossing your hands up in exasperation.

“I thought you’d tell me the truth, not make up some pathetic lie!” he shouted, making you flinch.

“Pathetic?” you breathed, shoulders sagging, “Is that what you think of me?”

He was quiet for a moment, jaw set. He seemed to be thinking his words carefully, which made his next even more painful, “Yeah. I do. This jealousy and lying of yours is pathetic. I get if you don’t like her but don’t make up shit about her,” he made way for the door, yanking it open, “Grow the fuck up, ______.”

You didn’t get a chance to reply before he was slamming your door shut. All at once, your emotions came crashing down and you buried your face in your pillow to silence your sobs.

Your eyes fluttered open and you groaned, feeling your head pound. A glance out the window showed that it was nighttime. You had fallen asleep.

You climbed out of bed to your desk to find your packet of headache pills. You let out a sigh of relief as you swallowed them down with the bottle of water sat on your nightstand. Flopping back into bed, you closed your eyes and attempted to relax your body.

Just as it seemed that you were going to fall back asleep, there was a loud noise from past your door. You frowned, your eyes fluttering open in confusion.

It came again and it took you a moment to realize what it was. A woman’s moan.

“Toshi!” you heard her squeal, making you flinch.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you hissed, feeling those tears come burning their way back.

“That feel good, baby? Let me hear you,” he growled and your hands flew up to cover your ears to muffle the sounds of her pleasure.

This was low for Shinsou. Sure, he’d had sex with girlfriends before but he always made sure to keep it down for your sake. Now he was just doing it to dig at you.

He wasn’t wrong about your jealousy but you knew he thought you were jealous over his attention being taken away. But that wasn’t the case at all. It was because you were in love with him.

Now he was forcing you to listen to him fuck the girlfriend you literally had a fight over. This wasn’t like Shinsou at all.

She really was just a terrible influence on him but he was too in love to see it. She was making him into a different person and you hated it. It was happening so quickly.

As you laid in bed, tears wetting your bed as you hid your head under your pillow, you couldn’t help but think.

The stupid fool really fell in love way too easily.

Things went from bad to worse astonishingly fast. Aoi was over more often than she had been before. The snotty comments and humiliating words from her every time you saw her and the cold, deadly glare Shinsou set on you whenever you came anywhere near his girlfriend was wearing on you.

You were unhappy. It was an emotion you rarely ever felt around him -- Shinsou was always the one to pick you up, not put you down. It got to the point where he wouldn’t even respond to your greetings or questions, giving you the complete silent treatment.

It hurt.

To escape the suffocating negativity of your apartment, you picked up even more shifts at work. The video game shop became a place you found solace in.

If Shinsou noticed your absence, he didn’t make it known to you.

“Will that be all for you today?” you asked, plastering on a fake, customer service smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, slapping down a few bills to cover the charge, “But I think I’d like to add your number to my receipt.”

You took a moment to look at him. He had blonde hair with a lightning bolt of black through it. He was dressed in black jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. He was cute, you’d give him that.

“Is that the best you could come up with?” you asked, opening the register with a brow raised.

He giggled, making you smile despite yourself, “I was on a time crunch I didn’t want to miss my chance.”

“Who said you had a chance to begin with?” you asked, passing him his change, “3.14 is your change.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d give one to me,” he shrugged, stuffing the change into his pocket before grabbing the bagged video game he’d purchased.

You gazed at him for a moment. He was charismatic and cute. He liked video games just like you. And he’d be a great distraction.

“Sure, why not?” you mused, watching his eyes go wide.

“Wait really?” he gasped, a grin stretching across his face.

“Did you think I’d say no?” you asked.

“U-Usually I get rejected so…” he shrugged, scratching the back of his head with a cute blush reaching his ears, “Anyway, when’s your shift end?”

“Um...closing time, so about 8:30,” you replied, glancing at the clock. 5 hours left.

“Sweet, I’ll pick you up!” he grinned.

“I-I’ll have to change though!” you complained, making him pause and shake his head.

“Don’t worry about it!” with those parting words, he bolted out the door, the bell chiming to signal his departure.

As he disappeared from view, you realized you didn’t even know his name.

You would come to find he was Denki Kaminari; a college student majoring in graphic design. He had a friend named Katsuki Bakugou who was as loud as he was angry. Eijirou Kirishima was a kind, chill guy who mellowed out the explosive Bakugou well. Mina and Sato, two friends-turned-lovers, were a common source of laughter for the group.

You were together for a little over a month and a half when he finally asked to meet your friends. Truth be told, the only person you could consider a friend would be Shinsou. You had acquaintances and those you hung real casually with but Shinsou was the only person you’d consider a friend.

Well, you weren’t sure if he could even be called that anymore.

Eventually, you gave in and decided to bring Kaminari to your apartment.

“Whoa, nice place,” he mumbled, looking around.

“You think so? Thanks,” you smiled, leading him towards the living room, “Like I said...things are...tense between me and Hitoshi so…”

“Who’re you?” a familiar voice came from the entry of the hallway.

Shinsou stood there, messy hair and tired eyed wearing basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt. His eyes burned holes into Kaminari, who visibly shrunk beneath the heated glare. You took note of how Shinsou didn’t even look at you.

That still hurt.

“I’m Denki Kaminari,” the blonde replied, approaching Shinsou to shake his hand, “I’m _____’s boyfriend!”

You didn’t miss the shift in Shinsou’s look, his eyebrows perking up ever so slightly. His gaze finally shifted to you before he scoffed from his nose, making you wince.

“Alright,” Shinsou mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets before turning his back to the both of you, stalking back to his room with a slam of the door.

Kaminari winced, “Boy, you weren’t kidding.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, motioning him to follow you, “Let’s head to my room. I don’t know if Aoi is here or not and I don’t care to find out.”

“I kinda wanna meet her too,” your boyfriend whispered, lowering his voice so it didn’t carry to Shinsou.

“No you don’t,” you chuckled, shutting your bedroom door once the two of you were safely inside.

You sat beside him on the bed, reaching for your remote to click the TV on for background noise. He cuddled in beside you, commenting on how soft your bed was.

“You smell really good,” he suddenly whispered, nosing at your neck.

You blinked in surprise, moving your head so he could get a better angle, “Th-Thanks…”

He hummed as you shivered once he pressed a few soft kisses against your neck. It tickled a bit but also sent a strange tingle down your spine the more he kissed. Your heart hammered in your chest and you briefly wondered if Denki could hear it.

He cupped your jaw, pulling you into a deep kiss. His tongue met your bottom lip, making you sigh against his lips.

You barely noticed his hand crawling up your shirt until it snuck beneath the band of your bra. The unfamiliar feeling of someone cupping your breast had you pulled away, tugging on Kaminari’s hand to pull him away.

“W-We shouldn’t…” you whispered, unsure of how to reject him, “W-With Shinsou the way he is…”

Kaminari looked skeptical for a second before nodding his head, “Got it.”

And that was that.

At least you thought until he began trying more and more. It became common for you to find his hand up your shirt. The feeling made you uneasy, making you realize you really weren’t ready to have sex. Kaminari was your first boyfriend and you weren’t willing to give everything up to him like that.

“Why do you always stop me?” Kaminari asked one day, voice soft and reassuring.

“I just…” you cleared your throat, biting your lip, “I don’t want to go that far yet.”

He was quiet for a moment before smiling and nodding his head, pulling you closer to him with a kiss to your forehead. Your body relaxed, thankful that he wasn’t angry with you like you had feared he would be.

He began following your wishes, no longer attempting to go past kissing. You were thankful.

Unfortunately, your bliss didn’t last long because next thing you knew, he was dumping you. Over text.

You had just got home from work, your feet aching and dread pooling in your stomach at the idea of being home. You were so tired of being scared to come home, it was exhausting. Shinsou was sitting on the couch, eating something he’d made himself for dinner with his back to you. He didn’t even show any signs that he knew you were home.

Lingering by the door, you pulled your phone out to check your notifications.

One from Denki made your heart stop -- the preview text already displaying what you feared. Your fingers were trembling as you unlocked your phone to look at the message.

As you read it, the words grew blurrier until tears began to drip onto your screen -- further obscuring the words there.

A small whimper escaped your throat, despite the way you tried to choke down any sounds. You quickly scurried to get to your bedroom when a strong hand snagged your wrist. Wide eyed, you were spun around to find Shinsou wearing a frown and furrowed brows.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, voice stern with concern.

You shook your head, feeling pathetic. You didn’t like Kaminari that much. Truthfully, you were mostly dating him to get away from Shinsou. But the idea that you were dumped because you wouldn’t have sex was utterly humiliating. Your first real boyfriend dumped you because you wouldn’t put out.

“You were right,” you sniffled, unable to hold back the sob that tore through your chest, “I am pathetic.”

He didn’t have the chance to even think of a reply before you were escaping his hold to hide away in your bedroom. You haphazardly stripped and changed into your softest set of clothes, deciding you were going to wallow in your own self pity for the night.

Your humiliation overshadowed the fact Shinsou had shown you the first sign of care in weeks. He had reacted to your crying just as he always had and instinctively moved to comfort you.

You could hear muffled voices from the hallway, one male and one female. The fact he brought her over after you just had a near meltdown in front of him irked you and only brought more tears forth.

A sense of anger rushed over you -- you didn’t want her there. This was your house and you didn’t want her there while you were going through it. You had half a mind to go out there and kick her out, maybe Shinsou would let it slide since you were clearly having a tough time.

What you didn’t expect were the shouts coming from them. You frowned and walked towards your door, cracking it open to listen to their shouting from the living room.

“You’re kicking me out?!” Aoi cried.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Shinsou sighed, “You don’t live here. I’m just asking you to go home for the night, Aoi.”

“Why should I?” Aoi argued, “Because she’s upset? Who cares!”

“I care!” Shinsou snapped.

Aoi scoffed, “Oh yeah, since when? Last I checked you picked me over her!”

“I didn’t pick anyone over anyone,” Shinsou huffed.

“Really?” Aoi’s tone was dripping in sarcasm, “You haven’t paid her a second of attention since your little fight. I doubt you even noticed how she’s been working full-time instead of part-time. Why do you think that is? To get away from you! Not that I give a shit, but you have been treating her like dirt. So don’t even try and pretend you give a shit, I know you don’t. You only feel bad because she’s crying. Once she gets over it you’ll just come back to me in the end. So just let her sulk by herself, she’s a big girl.”

Shinsou was quiet after that. You were sure he wasn’t even going to respond but you continued to stand there and listen. The apartment was silent, you could even hear the ticking of the decorative clock Shinsou’s mother had given you both.

“She was right, huh?” he finally whispered.

“Huh?” Aoi replied, clearly annoyed.

“I really did let you turn me into someone else,” he sighed, “God, I’m so stupid.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Hitoshi?” she snapped, growing impatient over the argument.

“You should leave,” Shinsou said, voice strong once again, “You and I are done.”

“What?!” Aoi shrieked, stomping her foot, “You can’t dump me! Not for her!”

“Get out, Aoi,” Shinsou growled, yanking the front door open.

She scoffed, “Don’t come crawling back to me when you learn she isn’t worth it.”

The slam of the door signalled the end. Silence ensued and you slipped back into your room, letting your door shut silently.

Just as you expected, there were a few soft knocks on your door. You didn’t reply but he opened up anyway, peeking in to find you sitting on the bed with your head hung.

“I assume you heard all that,” he said, cupping the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss,” you mumbled, feeling awkward about sharing this moment with him.

You didn’t look up when he sat down beside you. With a sudden tug, you found yourself wrapped up in a sweet embrace.

“Why were you crying? Did something happen with that Kaminari dude? Did he hurt you?” his concern brought forth a new flood of tears that you let go.

“He dumped me,” you whined, clinging to the front of his shirt.

“Why?” he asked, petting your hair softly.

You scoffed, shame building up inside you, “Because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

Immediately he pushed you back by your shoulders to look at your face, “He dumped you ‘cause you wouldn’t fuck him?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze, “He said he had needs and he wasn’t willing to wait for me to put out.”

“Jesus,” Shinsou scoffed, shaking his head, “What a prick,” he pulled you into his chest again with a sigh, “It’s good you didn’t sleep with him then. He wouldn’t have been worth it.”

“Yeah, I would have regretted it,” you nodded, “I’m not even sad he broke up with me. I just feel like shit that it was over sex. He was my first boyfriend and I got dumped because I wasn’t ready...that sort of feels shitty, you know?”

Shinsou nodded, resting his cheek atop your head, “I understand. It’s like a blow to your self-esteem, yeah?”

“Exactly,” you sniffled, your tears finally coming to a stop as he held you and let you talk, “I didn’t like him enough to sleep with him anyway. Even if I was ready.”

Shinsou chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you’re not heartbroken over it.”

You were quiet for a long moment before you pulled away from him, “How are you? I know you liked Aoi.”

Shinsou frowned, looking at his hands in his lap before shrugging, “I actually don’t really feel anything.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. Usually he would be in tears by now. But he was right, there wasn’t even an ounce of sadness in his eyes.

He nodded, “All I really cared about was you. I guess realizing what she really was wiped out anything I felt for her. Truthfully, it was probably going to be over soon anyway.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

“We just didn’t have good chemistry, I suppose. The sex was great but beyond that we didn’t really share any common interests,” he explained, leaning back on his hands with a sigh.

You cringed at the mention of sex -- remembering the night you sobbed as you were forced to listen to them go at it. Shinsou seemed to notice your discomfort, leaning up straight once more to take your hands in his.

“I’m sorry, ______,” he breathed, making you look up at him, “I was such a fuckin’ asshole to you. You didn’t deserve that and if you chose to never forgive me I would understand. But I promise I will never let a girl come first again. You’re my best friend, you’re the entire world to me and you will always be here when all the girls leave, I know that. No one can ever replace you.”

His words caused a flood of tears to flood down your cheeks again. You threw your arms around his shoulders, tugging him into a desperate hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your shirt with his face buried in your neck.

“I will always be here, Toshi,” you hiccuped, “I really will. It doesn’t matter if you choose the next 50 girls over me, I would never let you go. I would rather live with you ignoring me and making me cry over not having you at all.”

He sighed, tears of his own falling from his eyes and wetting your skin but you didn’t mind, “I would never ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, voice trembling. You couldn’t stop the next words from coming, you didn’t even try, “That’s how strong my love is for you, Toshi. I would do anything for your happiness. I’ll let you cry on my shoulder when girl after girl breaks your heart, even though it hurts so damn much because I know I would never, ever let you down like that. I’ll sit with you in the living room while another girl is wrapped in your arms, desperately wishing it was me, because you want me and her to be friends. You don’t even know it but you have every bit of me,” your voice broke as you let out a sob, taking a stuttering breath before continuing, “I never dated because I only ever loved you. You’re the only one I ever want to love. I don’t even care if you don’t feel the same, Toshi, I just needed you to know...I have loved you since we were kids. Whenever your mom joked that we would get married, I used to go to sleep hoping it would come true one day. You’re it for me, you know?”

Shinsou was still, every muscle in his body tense against you. You remained relaxed, relishing in being held in his arms even though it very well may be the last time you would ever experience it. His tears had stopped and you could feel his hands trembling against your back from where he was still holding your shirt in tight fists.

Finally, slowly, he pulled away. You avoided his gaze, scared of what you may find there. With trembling fingers, he lifted your chin until you were finally forced to meet his gaze.

“______…” he whispered, your voice like honey on his lips, “Is that true? Since we were kids?”

You chuckled through your still falling tears, “Remember that time at the summer festival when I wandered off and you had to chase me? And I got scared because I couldn’t find our parents? When you let me hold onto you and you kept reassuring me that everything was okay…” you shrugged, your voice cracking as you uttered, “I knew I loved you then. And I love you to this day.”

His wide eyes were glassy as he stared at you, mouth agape in his shock. It was so much for him to take in.

Before you knew what was happening, he was leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. Your vision went white for a second in shock at the feeling.

His lips were soft and as you began to kiss back, you tasted coffee on his lips. Typical of Shinsou, it was late at night and he was still drinking coffee. The thought made you smile and you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He cupped the back of your head, a soft sigh escaping him as he moved his lips expertly until you were breathless.

After a long moment, he pulled away. The both of you were panting, eyes lidded as you processed what just happened.

“Toshi…” you whispered, feeling euphoric after kissing him, “I don’t understand.”

He shook his head, cupping your cheek, “All you need to know...is that I love you too.”

You gaped at those words coming from his lips. Surging forward, you pressed your lips against his again. He smiled into the kiss, leaning further against you until you were forced to lay back against the mattress. His body was hovering above yours, held up by his elbows on either side of your head.

He wasted no time in touching your body, years of desperation finally culminating into this one moment. His hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing the hem up to expose the soft skin of your belly. He paused at your ribs, unsure if you were okay with him going any further. But when you gripped his wrist and urged his hand up to cup your breast, he threw away those inhibitions.

Thumbing your sensitive nipple, you keened as they hardened beneath his touch. He leaned down a bit more to press his lips against yours.

You lost yourself against his lips, whimpering and grinding against nothing. Just the fact the man you’d loved for so long was there touching you after years of craving it had your panties soaked.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, breaking from the kiss to kiss down your body.

You trembled beneath him, watching him with rapt attention as he kissed the exposed skin of your stomach and ribs. Sighing, you let him push your shirt over your head to discard off the side of the bed. He leaned forward, enveloping one of the pert buds in his hot mouth, tonguing at it until you were whining and begging him to give attention to the other one. He did so eagerly, providing a stimulating suck before finally pulling away. His lips were swollen and his cheeks were flushed, the very fact you made him that way was dizzying.

“Wanna taste that perfect cunt too, baby,” he growled, voice losing the soft, sweetness it once held.

“O-Okay,” you agreed easily, raising your hips so he could tug the last remaining articles off of your body.

The second you were bare, his hands were pinning your thighs open. His eyes examined every inch of your pussy -- taking in the juices dripping from your clenching hole.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart, “so pretty too, god. Look at you...you’re perfect. Bet you’re so sweet…”

“Please Toshi…” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his hair.

His eyes fluttered at the feeling, allowing you to pull him to your pussy where he eagerly ran his tongue flat between your spread folds. You gasped, eyes slamming shut as he paused to wrap his lips around your clit for just a split second. The teasing touch was addictive and you suddenly wanted more.

Shinsou understood what it is you wanted and quickly dove back in for more. Circling his tongue around your clit, your back arched. You wanted to close your thighs against the stimulation but his strong hands kept your legs pinned open.

He swirled his tongue quickly, moaning before enveloping the bud in his hot mouth. You tugged his hair, crying out his name as you felt a high approaching rapidly. He looked so good between your thighs, eating your cunt like you’d dreamed of for ages.

Suddenly, he pulled away, licking his lips before sitting up.

“Fuck, tell me babygirl,” he breathed, “You gonna let me fuck this pretty cunt?” you nodded, reaching to push his shit up but he stopped you, looking you in the eyes, “Use your words. Tell me.”

“Yes, please fuck me Shinsou!” you begged.

He grinned, pressing a kiss against your lips before stripping himself of his clothes.

You almost gasped at the sight of his cock. He was big; long and thick. Subconsciously, you clenched your thighs together in anticipation.

“You ready?” he asked, scooting to sit between your spread legs.

You tensed up as he prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock. He realized how tense you were and ran his hand along your thigh to soothe you, “You good? You can back out anytime, darlin’.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling your cheeks heat up as you looked at him through your lashes, “I-It’s just...go slow?”

He frowned, brows drawn together before he backed away from you a bit, “Is this your first time, sweetheart?”

Licking your lips, you hesitated before nodding. Shinsou sighed, hanging his head to rest against your collarbone. You frowned, “I-Is that bad?” you asked.

Truth was, you never wanted anyone but him. You never had a desire to have sex with anyone but him. You knew he was the one person you’d never regret being with.

“No!” he sat up, eyes wide before wrapping his hand around the nape of his neck nervously, “I just wish you would have told me sooner...that was almost bad.”

“Why?” you asked,making him chuckle. He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Well…” clearing his throat, he looked off to the side bashfully, “My dick’s not exactly the smallest around and since you’re a virgin you could do with...a lot more preparation, you know?”

Your cheeks were ablaze from the bluntness of his words. He didn’t waste another second in bringing his hand to your still wet pussy.

He sighed, a smile lingering on his lips as he worked his middle finger into your tight hole. Humming, he bit his lip as he slipped his ring finger alongside it. You sighed, eyes fluttering at the mild stretch that came along with it.

“Feel okay?” he asked softly, working the two fingers in and out of your hole.

You nodded, “Feels good,” you breathed.

Your eyes fell closed as he crooked his fingers upwards to touch that sweet spot on top. Your hips jumped at the sensation, ripping a moan from your swollen lips. He smirked, burying the digits deep, licking his lips at the way your juices gushed out from around them.

With his other hand, he found your clit, circling the bud with his thumb as he worked his index finger into the mix. The added stimulation to your clit made your wall clench tightly and he grunted, imagining what it would feel like around his cock.

“Please Toshi,” you begged, “I want you already.”

“Thank you’re ready?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

And he was right when you whimpered out a pathetic little, “Yes!”

He resumed the position from earlier, his tip pressed against your entrance. It was opened a bit from his three fingers but he knew it was still going to be a tight fit.

He took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he began to sink into your cunt. You whimpered as your walls stretched around him, squeezing his hand. He bottomed out quickly, stilling to let you adjust to being stuffed so full of his thick cock.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“N-No…” you mumbled, “Just...feels weird.”

He chuckled, kissing your lips again. He could feel you squeezing around him, your cunt unused to having such a big cock inside. The fact he was your first, the one taking your virginity -- tainting your pure body was turning him on more than he ever thought it would.

He couldn’t even lie and say he’d never taken a cherry before but with you it was different. He felt a sense of pride and possessiveness wash over him; you were his completely. You had given him your heart and your body.

Burying his face in your neck, he pressed kisses against the sweet spot he easily found there. Grinding his hips against yours, he stirred your insides with his thick length until you were arching your hips to get more of the addictive pleasure only he could bring you.

He pulled out halfway, slowly sinking his cock back inside with a groan.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, eyes glued to where your cunt was stretched around him, “Taking me so well, look at that.”

“Feels so good,” you whimpered, clutching the sheets beneath you in your fists.

“Yeah?” he grinned, pulling out so the tip remained only to surge forward and sink his cock into you in one long thrust. Immediately, your back arched and you let out an erotic moan that had his cock throbbing against your walls, “Fuck, my cocks almost too much for you but you’re bein’ such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Taking what I give you...fuck…”

His praise and dirty words went straight to your core. He set a steady pace, making sure to angle his hips up so he could hit your g-spot. The pleasure had your eyes rolling back and you cried out his name every so often, making his heart race.

“Sound so pretty sayin’ my name…” he groaned, cupping your breasts in his hands as he fucked you, “Pussy’s so tight and wet...I can feel you dripping, you know that? Who would have thought such a pretty cunt could get so messy. But you only get this messy for me, right darlin’?”

“Only you!” you babbled, wrapping your arms around his neck to press your lips against his. He moaned into your mouth, reaching between your bodies to circle your clit, “Fuck! Toshi, y-you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Fuck,” he groaned, “Do it then, sweetheart. Go on, cum on my fucking cock.”

A few more thrusts and circles over your swollen bud had you falling over the edge. Your body trembled and arched beneath him, cunt spasming around him as he worked you dutifully through your orgasm.

Once you came down, he pulled his hand from your clit and pulled out. You were panting, body limp and relaxed as you let him move you onto your hands and knees. Keeping your face buried in the pillow, you allowed him to maneuver you into the proper position.

He pressed his hand down on the small of your back, “Arch your back for me, good girl.”

“Th-This is embarrassing, Toshi…” you whispered into the pillow.

He hummed, gripping his cock to direct himself back into the sweet vice of your cunt, “No reason to be embarrassed, kitten. It’s just me...you can trust me.”

“I-I know...but still…” you whimpered, eyes fluttering as he sunk his cock deep inside. The position allowed him to reach a new depth.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked softly, running his hand along your spin.

You hesitated for a second, focusing on the pleasurable sensation of being filled so completely before shaking your head. He grinned, leaning down to kiss your shoulder blade, “Good girl.”

The praise went to your head and you suddenly had a desire to receive more. You wanted to be good for him -- be his good girl.

You lifted your head from the pillow and cried out his name, fucking yourself back against his cock. He grinned, slapping your ass lighter than he usually would do it -- he wasn’t sure how you would take to it. When he felt you clench around him in response, he grinned. That was something worth looking into it seemed.

“Toshi…” you whined, reaching back to grip at his hip.

He hummed, slowing ever so slightly, “What is it, kitten?”

“Please…” you whined, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment over what you desperately wanted to ask him.

“Please what?” he whispered, kissing your shoulder blade again, “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“C-Call me...y-your goog girl again…” you whispered, immediately burying your face in your pillow.

He paused, eyes wide before another grin grew across his face. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you up until your back was pressed against his chest. You cried out, his cock stilling inside you as he pressed his lips against your ear.

“You like being praised huh?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder. He enjoyed the fucked out look on your face, “Like being my good girl, hm? Such a pretty, sweet girl for me…”

You whimpered, walls clenching around his still cock, “I-I love you Toshi…”

He hummed, reaching down to find your clit. Circling over the bud, you keened, eyes fluttering as your cunt clenched tight around him, “I know you do, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, your walls squeezed, clamping down tight. He groaned, cursing under his breath as he felt your body seize up in your orgasm, trembling and gushing around his cock. He pressed his lips against your shoulder, looking down to where his length was buried completely inside.

You began to rock yourself along his cock, your orgasm flying to new heights as he never stopped playing with your sensitive bud.

Suddenly, he watched with wide eyes as your cum squirted out, soaking the bed and your thighs.

“Shit,” he growled, providing a few quick slaps against your clit, making you squirt just a few more times, “What a good fucking girl you are. Look at the mess you made. You’re so perfect, I love you so much.”

Those words had you clenching once again. That finally sent him over the edge himself. He rocked into you, holding you tight against him. His cock throbbed, spitting hot cum into your sensitive cunt.

He cupped your breasts, groaning in the throes of his orgasm as he pressed kisses against your shoulder, neck, and cheek.

When he finally came down, he gently laid you on the bed, pulling his cock out. His cum gushed from your hole without his length to stop it. You cringed, the feeling unpleasant to say the least.

He got out of bed to go to the bathroom intending to get a cloth to clean you with.

When he was gone, you found yourself thinking about what just happened. One particular thought was on your mind and when he returned, you didn’t hesitate to voice it.

“W-We didn’t use a condom…” you mumbled.

He hummed, “Were we supposed to? I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am...it’s just…” you frowned, clearing your throat as you watched him wiped your thighs and sensitive folds free of your mixed cum.

“What?” he sat beside you, fixing you with a steady gaze, urging you to confess your thoughts to him.

“You were just...dating, you know...Aoi and…” you sighed, averting your gaze from him, “Other girls before.”

He chuckled, laying beside you, “What, you’re concerned I have something?”

“Well no...not necessarily…” you frowned as he cupped your cheek, making you look at him.

“If you must know…” he shrugged before continuing, “I always used a condom with them.”

“Really?” he nodded at your question, “Then...why with me?”

“Because you’re you,” he smiled, kissing your lips, pulling you to lay against his chest, “You’re the one for me, kitten. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Yes, Hitoshi Shinsou fell in love easily. But he never gave those girls his heart. He cried because he thought he could never have you. The truth was, you had always owned his heart. It had always been in your hands.

#bnha x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha smut #shinsou smut #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #mha smut #afton.writes

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

New Romantics | Part Three

18+

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*

Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, period mentions, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings,

Word Count: 4.7K

a/n: this chapter covers the whole week from Monday to Friday, thank you @awrfhi for making the gif I used here <3

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Monday morning she’s in his arms still, and then again on Tuesday; he basically lives with her when he’s not on a case. They make dinner together at night and they drive in together every morning, and they have had sex all over her apartment… and he loves her but he was tired when he said it and in a post-orgasm haze and he’s her best friend.

But he loved her— just not the way she loved him. She was sure of it.

Tuesday morning at 10:53 am, she cracks her fake case. They’re apprehending the unsub by Noon and then she has the rest of the week off. So she heads to the main Quantico building, she gets a visitor's pass and she takes the elevator all the way up to the BAU.

She walks through the bullpen doors and Spencer is sitting at his little desk with his head buried in a book. Penelope sees her first, wrapping her up in a hug that gets everyone’s attention as she rocks her back and forth while telling her how much she likes her.

“You are so pretty, and nice and cute, and your hair smells so good?”

“Thank you, it’s Spencer's shampoo,” she laughs as she holds her back, “I just wanted to come and see him really quick?”

He’s standing beside her and she doesn’t even know until Penelope releases her from her grasp. He wraps her up next, “why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

She kisses him right on the mouth, holding his face in her hands she has missed him too much to wait till they are alone again, “I caught the unsub.”

“No way?”

She nods feverishly, “yeah remember I found that stray hair on the crime scene? Everyone was fighting over why there wasn’t a sexual aspect and I was trying to convince them she was a women unsub when the hair came back matching our victims best friend, who also knew victim number 1.”

He’s so happy, his smile is the biggest any of his teammates have ever seen, he lifts her and twirls her around and no one can believe the sight. Spencer Reid the uptight, overly smart, always following proper procedure, Doctor at the FBI; was spinning his girlfriend around as he kissed her cheek.

“You are a genius,” he compliments her as he sets her back down and places another kiss on her lips.

“I know,” she laughs, “I beat your score by one day.”

“I hate you,” he kisses her again and by now they don’t realize they have an audience. It’s incredibly convincing to everyone except each other.

“No, you love me,” she whispers, kissing him again before they hear someone clear their throat.

“Do you want to help with ours?” Derek asks, jumping into the moment and reminding them that they’re in public. “We’re just doing non-urgent consults today.”

“Am I allowed?” She lights up.

Derek nods, “I don’t see why not, as long as you just tell your ideas to us and don’t file anything then I think it’s legal?”

So she helps and it’s the most exhilarating thing since having sex with Spencer. She’s in her element, looking at small details and making connections that even leave Spencer humming and ha-ing. She has a younger insight than the rest of the team, she’s exactly why they hired Spencer in the first place and now she was shining brighter than him.

But he loved it.

Every time she made a connection or she had a suggestion that helped one of them on their own train of thought, Spencer would smile at her like she hung the stars in the night sky. He was proud of her in a way she hasn’t seen in many people before, filling her heart with warmth and hope that maybe he can love her for real one day.

—

She was possibly the love of his life and the more he saw her work and the more he knew her mind; the more he fell. She walked around his office and talked to his friends as if she was always meant to be there, and a part of him really wanted her to be.

He snuck away to go talk to Hotch, closing his office door as he sat down, “what’s wrong?”

“Y/N isn’t really my girlfriend,” he whispers. “She’s pretending so I could get everyone to stop bothering me about dating, and I understand it looks like she’s using me to get close to the team but I really do think she would be an excellent asset to the unit even if she was just in the office—“

“Reid,” Hotch cuts him off and a smile builds. “I already sent her an offer to take Anderson's job while he’s out on paternity leave.”

“Oh,” he smiles to himself. “Pretend I never said anything.”

“It stays in these 4 walls, don’t worry,” Hotch smiles back, “but you should tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re in love with her.”

“I’m not,” he lies, “really, I do love her but I’m not in love with her, there is a difference.”

“I know,” Hotch reminds him. “Did you know that I only joined the school musical to get close to Haley? I did whatever I could to get her to fall in love with me and didn’t even realize it when she did because I was so worried she didn’t.”

“Oh.”

Hotch nods with another smile, “you don’t have to tell her until you’re ready, obviously, but you should tell her before it’s too late.”

“I will,” he whispers. “Thanks, Aaron.”

“Why don’t you guys head out early?” He offers, “we could all use a day off with the people we love.”

When he walks back down from Aaron's office, Y/N is with Emily and JJ discussing how she caught her fake unsub at school that morning. She doesn’t brag, she loves to mention her classmates by name and verbatim explains how they helped her. She is a team player, a genius, beautiful, kind… she really is the love of his life.

“Hey,” he places his hand on her lower back as he slides into the conversation. “Hotch said we can all leave early if we wanted?”

“Sure,” she smiles, “actually, did you want to come with me to buy a dress for your thing?”

“That would be fun,” he agrees, wrapping his other arm around her so he can rest his chin on her shoulder and hold her. “Remember I’m buying it so don’t stress about the price.”

“You’re too nice to me,” she replies.

“I just love you,” his voice is as low as he can make it but everyone still hears.

She holds him back tighter, in a silent ‘I love you, too’ and they hear JJ and Emily swoon.

They’re quick to get their things and head out, she hands Spencer her keys and lets him drive to the mall so she can relax, she’s done a lot today.

She’s so quiet on the drive, she holds his hand like she always does and she just looks out the window, she’s peaceful and content with the nothingness of spending alone time with Spencer. They were always just quiet together, sometimes they laughed till they cried and sometimes he could make her scream but most of the time they were quiet.

“Have you checked your email?”

She smiles as she turns to him and her grip on his hand tightened, “what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just told hotch the truth so that he could offer you a job, but he already had before I went in there but he’s a good secret keeper, believe me.”

“Oh,” her smile disappears. “So he knows we’re not really dating?”

He nods, “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I guess we’re going to have to find a convincing way to break up for them and still be able to hang out all the time,” she worries aloud. “Because I don’t want to stop this any time soon, I hope you know that. I really like spending time with you.”

“I feel the same way,” he agrees. “I promise, we can just tell them we work better as friends and they might believe us?”

“I don’t think they will,” she frowns again. “JJ told me not to break your heart today, but I feel like if we break up I’m going to break all of theirs.”

“We could have a fake ugly breakup, and not talk to each other publicly for a bit and then be friends again?” He suggests, “Penelope and Kevin did that.”

She nods, still frowning. She interlocks their fingers this time and she holds his hand instead of just anxiously fiddling with his fingers. She really doesn’t want to let go, and he’s almost convinced she feels the same way.

The banquet is on Saturday, she has one last week of school before her graduation and then they’re done. He thinks about asking her, about what would be the best time to tell her he was in love with her and ask her to be his real girlfriend.

Maybe he’ll do it after the banquet? Maybe he’ll do it after her graduation? He just really wants to do it before she meets his mom. He wants his mom to meet her as the love of his life and his best friend.

He hated many things, but as he kept glancing at her as he drove he realized he hated one thing most of all. He hated that he couldn’t love her as much as she deserved, at least not yet. He wanted to shower her in love, he wanted to protect her and care for her, he wanted to show her off and make love to her and never leave her side.

It hurts, his heart physically aches as he thinks about that. If he had to feel like this to know his love was real, then the pain was worth it. She was always worth it, and he would hurt as long as possible, forever even, if it meant he could be around her just as long.

He held her hand tighter in the silence which made her turn to him, he had no idea he had been crying until she leans over and wipes his cheeks, “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too,” he smiles but he can’t keep the conversation there, he’s feeling trapped and so he changes the topic. “What colour dress were you thinking?”

The quick-change makes her laugh, “probably black.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods, “I don’t need to stand out beside you any more than I already do.”

“What does that mean?”

She bits her lip, “some of the people in my class are saying that I’m only doing so well because you’re helping me cheat and that I’m just fucking you to get a job… just like I thought they would.”

“At the end of the day, we have a friendship they will never understand, we have great sex because we want to, you’re smarter than me, and the BAU wants you… so who is the real winner?” He’s always going to be her number one cheerleader.

“You’re right,” she smiles again finally, “as always.”

—

He convinces her to get a red dress.

She hasn’t had a pretty dress like this one since her prom and that was 6 years ago. She hasn’t been to a party or mingled with people in just as long, she didn’t realize how lonely she had been while chasing her dreams until Spencer came along.

He was one of the dreams. She saw him talk once, years ago on a school trip, and she fell in love with him a little, even back then. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be him or be with him back then, doing everything in her power to get into the criminal psych degree at her local college, she just wanted to be like him.

Now she’s liked by him.

Every night he goes to his home across the hall and he does his own nightly routine before coming back to her apartment for the night. She’s too emotional to sleep with him today, she knows that if she has sex with him she’s going to say something stupid or cry after because being this close to him without being honest with him is killing her.

Something in him has changed too, he’s less scared to initiate contact, he doesn’t jump anymore when she hugs him or when she smacks his bum as she passes him. Now he’s wrapping his arms around her while she cooks dinner, and he kisses her cheek randomly when they’re in public.

He tells her that he loves her.

She’s confused and she has no one to talk to about it.

She lays back against her pillows and closes her eyes, she knows she’s going to cry soon, and she doesn’t know what to do because she doesn’t want to cry in front of him and he would be upset if she told him to not come back tonight.

The stress of the situation just makes her cry more as she stresses herself into another anxiety attack, much like the first night she talked to him. She just lets it happen, the anxiety in her stomach builds and the tears slip past her eyes and suddenly she’s sobbing into her pillow hard enough that she doesn’t hear him come back.

She jumps at the feeling of his hand on her back as he sits on the edge of the bed, “what’s wrong?”

She just sits up and hugs him, and he hugs her back and they stay there like that for a while. When she calms down, she pulls back from him and wipes her eyes, “my period is coming.” She’s not really lying, and he believes her.

“Does it normally make you this emotional?”

He’s never really experienced her mood swings, he has no idea what he’s in for, she nods. “Yeah, and I have really bad anxiety which just gets worse around this time.”

“And you’re not on anything?”

She shakes her head, “I’m waiting to get onto the good healthcare when I get a job with the bureau, I can’t afford to work and go to school, I’m glad I had enough scholarship money left to rent this place long enough to go to the academy.”

“Oh.”

She just nods, “I’ve never had much money like my parents have been saving for 2 years to buy plane tickets to Virginia so that they can see me graduate. They started saving before I even got in. I went to community college on a scholarship and I get a lot of money from applying for bursaries.”

“Are you going to take the CARD job or the BAU offer?”

She shrugs, “I’m not sure yet, but probably CARD.”

“Why?”

“I can’t work with you,” she whispers. “It makes me feel like I don’t deserve to be there like I’m using you and that all my work isn’t that great. I’m just Doctor Spencer Reids girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, imposter syndrome is a leading factor in depression among child prodigies, once you reach a certain age and you stop receiving awards for your work, it’s hard to believe that you’re still doing a good job.”

She knows he gets it, he has probably said the same fact to himself to calm down before. “Thank you.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

She nods, pulling back the covers and moving over so he can snuggle in beside her. She holds him, resting her head on his chest and taking a deep inhale of his cologne, this was the love of her life and if this was as close as she was ever going to be to him, she was going to take it.

He kisses the top of her head and holds her in his arms at just the right pressure to calm her down. She feels so comfortable with him but she still feels like shit, she doesn’t stop crying, and he just holds her through it.

“Do you want to tell me what’s really wrong?” He whispers after a while, he sounds worried.

“No,” she whispers. “I can’t.”

“Is it about me?”

“Yeah,” she cries again, “and I don’t have any other friends to talk to about us and now you’ve told hotch and I have no one to talk to about how this is kinda stressing me out.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his voice is still scared and she knows he’s going to panic regardless and just send them around in a circle of constant anxiety. But his tone is more apologetic than one fuck up.

“Who else did you tell?” She sits up, “I thought this was just between us?”

“I needed advice, the same reason you are reacting right now, you’re stressing me out,” Spencer finally talks back with passion and she knows they’re about to fight for no reason.

“I never said you were stressing me out. I said our situation was, but I think I need to sleep alone now, Spencer” she’s confident and stern even though she’s crying.

“We can’t go to bed mad at each other. You even said the mornings are the worst, we can’t hate each other for no reason tomorrow,” he starts to cry, not knowing where he went wrong and she can see it on his face.

“I just don’t have what you have, and I’ve always been trying to copy you…”

“What?”

She sighs and wipes her tears, “I have had a big fat, fan-girly, crush on you since I was 18, I came here with my class to watch you do a talk on philias and phobias and then I knew I wanted to get into the academy and I wanted to beat your record and join the BAU, and I just thought; one day I’m going to be friends with this guy and catch bad guys with him and now I am and I’m so alone.”

“You have me?”

“I know,” she tries to smile, “but I only have you and I can tell you almost everything. Like my biggest stressor right now is that if just looking at fake crime scenes for 3 weeks has made me this anxious; what if I’m not cut out for this? What if I get to a real crime scene and I pass out or—“

“That’s only human,” he presses his lips together, awkwardly, and very Spencerly. “If you didn’t feel like this job makes you hate the world and untrusting of everyone around you; then I would think you’re crazy.”

“How do you do it?”

“I open up and let people in, but I typically wait till I’m at my lowest; crying in my friend's arms because I don’t know what to do anymore,” he smiles again, wider and toothy as she smiles back.

“Thank you,” she can’t help but tilt her head and smile as her heart settles and her brain calms down a bit, “I love you.”

“Can I kiss you or is that too much right now?”

She gets in closer to him, laying back down on the pillow and looking at him. They’re closer enough to kiss, and she just takes a moment to look at him, resting her hand on his cheek as he wraps around her waist and pulls her in closer.

“We’re okay?” He asks with his lips right against her, his breath is hot and he smells like toothpaste.

“We’re okay, but no more talking tonight, okay?” She whispers.

He nods, leaning in and kissing her finally. She knows she shouldn’t be kissing him, she knows that she should be mad at herself, but she also knew that even just pretending that he loved her back was good enough.

—

He gets called away to a case on Wednesday morning, he’s too busy to really call her and he doesn’t text back. He feels bad about it but he knows she wanted space to think anyway, what he didn’t expect was for her to reach out to Penelope.

She’s in the office with her on Friday, tired of Spencer ignoring her so she went to the one place he couldn’t avoid her; Penelope’s office.

“How can I help you today, my fine furry friends?” Y/N answers the phone with a smirk, copying Penelope’s line perfectly, they can hear them high five through the line.

“Y/N?” Spencer is the first to catch it, “what are you doing there?”

“I came to meet Anderson and see if I’d like to take his job or not,” she teases, pretending she wasn’t there just to bother him.

Hotch cuts in, asking the question he needed to ask before hanging up, “not sure what’s going on at home but we’re too close to cracking this case for schoolyard games.”

“Yes sir,” he nods and looks away, retreating to the other side of the room to stare at the map and pretend to find connections.

“Crack this and you can go home to her,” Derek whispers with a smile, thinking he’s helping the situation.

“That’s not where I want to be right now.”

“Woah,” Derek catches it, “what happened?”

“Nothing,” he’s quick to get him to stop it but he really wants advice, “she’s stressed out and she took it out on me and I wasn’t very nice back.”

“You said sorry and you pretended you were over it, didn’t you?”

He turns away from Derek with a nod, he wants to come out with it and get it over with and he’s so mad and embarrassed he just starts to cry a little, “I don’t want to lose her.”

“How could you?”

“You have no idea,” he rolls his eyes lightly and scoffs, confusing Derek.

“And I won't unless you want to talk to someone about what’s really bothering you, but you’ve been happier since you met her and I like seeing you happy, and Savannah likes double dates,” he scolds him with a smile, patting his shoulder lightly. “now let's crack this and maybe on the plane you will tell me what’s up?”

“Sure,” he says, but he doesn’t want to.

However, Derek Morgan is good at a lot of things, and one of those things is getting Spencer to calm down enough to tell him anything. Everyone is asleep on the plane, it’s just the two of them at the back together when Spencer finally feels confident enough to say it.

“I lied to you, a long time ago… and it’s just the first one.”

Derek doesn’t look angry, “okay, explain your thought process. I need to know how this pretty brain of yours works.”

He smiles a bit, “I slept with Elle the night before she shot that rapist in Ohio.”

“You did not?” Derek's voice gets a little too loud and they stop to make sure no one woke up.

“I did, but you still always made jokes about finally getting me some lovin’ and it bothered me for a while and I never told you, instead I offered to help my neighbour with her homework if she pretended to date me,” his voice lowers as the words continue and he only stares at the table between them.

“Spencer, I’m sorry,” Derek apologizes first. “I didn’t know I was upsetting you, is there anything else I do that upsets you?”

He shakes his head in a silent no, still not looking at him, he can't.

“What happened between you and Y/N?” He jumps to the main issue, fine with what happened because he feels bad for causing the issue in the first place.

“We started sleeping together.”

Derek sighs, “you have such a big brain, you can remember everything she’s ever said to you and yet you can’t see that she’s in love with you.”

“She’s good at pretending,” he pushes it away.

“No she’s not, because she’s pretending she doesn’t love you right now; the same way you are and you’re both fucking it up for each other,” Derek gives it to him straight. “You have always been loveable, but you have a very hard time accepting it, Spencer.”

“Yeah,” he starts to cry a little more.

“Go home and talk to her and tell her the truth,” it’s the best advice he can give and Spencer knows it. “What’s the worst that can go wrong?”

“She does love me back but in a few years, she realizes I’m too much and she leaves me,” his voice is the saddest Derek has ever heard it.

He gets up from his seat and hugs Spencer, sliding into the seat beside him and wrapping his arms around him, “you have never been too much. You just surround yourself with people who aren’t good enough to love you for who you are.”

“She’s better than me.”

“Which is exactly what I mean, she’s not going to leave you, believe me, once you love Spencer Reid for who he really is, it’s hard to stop,” he speaks from experience, thinking of what could have been between them if either of them had tried harder in the past.

“She’s the love of my life,” he confirms, “I’m never going to love anyone else the way I love her.”

They get the word that they’re going to be landing soon, Spencer wipes his tears and buckles in for the descent, avoiding everyone’s stares and questions on the ride back to headquarters. He’s nervous to see her, he knows his face is puffy and she’ll be there waiting for him with Penelope, but he has to do it.

“Would you wait here, I need to tell her now and she might not give me a ride home if it doesn’t go well,” he asks Derek before heading to Penelope, “she was already mad at me for telling Hotch the truth.”

“Okay, sure,” Derek smiles, reaching out a hand for Spencer, “come to me when you need me next time, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees with a small smile, heading out to find his fake girlfriend.

She’s not with Penelope, no she’s in the filing room with Anderson and the other temps all talking and laughing, and it sounds far too interesting to interrupt. He waits outside the door and smiles at her laughter until he hears it.

“So be honest,” Agent Camden asks, “are you sleeping with Reid for this job?”

“If I was sleeping my way to the top, don’t you think I would have picked Morgan? Or Prentiss even?” She laughs and it’s like someone stabs a knife through his heart.

He turns around and heads back to Derek, “take me home.”

“Okay,” he doesn’t pry, he just grabs his coat and keys and follows Spencer to the garage.

—

He’s really ignoring her.

She finds out from Emily that Spencer left with Derek, and that he looked rather pissed off when he asked for a ride. It breaks her heart a little and she doesn’t know what to do next, she just drives home and finds herself knocking on his door.

“Let me in, please, Spencer!” She begs from behind his door.

He opens it and looks at her with a puffy red face, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips, he’s been crying for a while. “What?”

“What did I do?”

“You slept with me,” he whispers, “and I told you I wouldn’t react well.”

“Is it my fault you’re crying?” She asks softly and he nods, “do you want to tell me?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, “are we still going to the banquet together tomorrow?”

“I really fucked up,” is all he can muster, crying again as he closes the door and goes to cry in his room.

She just opens the door again and follows him inside. Kicking off her shoes she crawls into bed beside him and wraps herself around him, “you don’t have to tell me but I am here for you, always.”

“I love you,” he says it like it’s the problem before he rests his head in the crook of her neck and holds her back for the first time in days.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she cries along with him. They cry until he’s asleep and she’s just there holding him in her jeans and she’s really uncomfortable but she loves him too much to let go.

“More than you will ever know.”

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mha-platonic-yanderes · 3 years

Text

Settling In: Parentals

Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Clan AU

The room is pink. Well, it’s mostly pink. It’s pink with white furniture and embellishments. The closet doors are white and so is the windowsill. The floor is hardwood brown. But everything else is a bubblegum pink.

You’d prefer another color, one that wasn’t so bright and grating to the eyes. But you don’t say that. You just fiddle with your one dufflebag’s handle. This is all you have left, after bouncing around from group home to group home. A year ago—when your parents died—you had thrice as much. Now this and the backpack for schoolwork is all you have left.

“Do you like it?” The mother of this house and wife to the current number one hero, asks you a question. He’s not here; nobody’s here except you two. The house seems too big for three people, but there are pictures on the wall of others. It doesn’t look lived in; there is no semblance of a family. Though, the pictures on the wall show a six person family. It shows that there are four more people here and you get your own room. In a house with now seven people, you get your own room and you aren’t giving it up.

Despite the pink color and the vast emptiness, you answer honestly, “Yeah, I do.” You do like it, even if it's not for the right reasons

Her hands are on your shoulder. You can feel the increased pressure on one side lift up, almost as if she’d been purposefully holding onto you too tight.

“Good. Now, let’s unpack.” She gracefully takes the bag out of your hand, setting it atop the bed. You sit down alongside it, opening your backpack. A couple of notebooks, pencils, and two textbooks sit inside.

You start to stand, heading to take the materials to the desk they’ve provided. Though, whilst holding a pair of pajamas—slightly too little but in [y/f/c]—she takes the books out of your hand.

“Just relax, [Y/N].” Rei replies, “Let me handle it.”

You sit on the bed twiddling with your blouse’s edge. You wore your best outfit, even though it was just your school uniform, without the frumpy sweater.

The bed is insanely soft. With satin sheets, a thick, fluffy comforter, and a healthy amount of pillows, it's easily the softest place you’ve been.

“I’ll have a driver return your school books back to your former school.” Rei replies, on the other side of the room. You shift to look at her, but she has her back turned to you. “I’ll discuss with my husband what school to place you at.”

“Alright.” You’ve had to transfer schools about three times since last year. Moving again isn’t a hassle anymore. You know not to hope you won’t move again. Though. you know not to get attached to anything in case you have to—in case this doesn’t work out.

“We’ll get you a better education than the one you were definitely receiving.” You can hear the gentle thump of one of your textbooks. She heads back to your duffle bag; it’s now half empty. “My eldest three all went to Somei Private Academy for junior high. Two ended up continuing through highschool as well. My eldest went to Shiketsu and my youngest is in Yuuei now.”

You know those schools. They’re expensive, private academies. You’ve only ever been in public schools. The wealth was obvious when you were picked up in a blackened car with a driver. You just didn’t expect them to spend that money on you, a lowly orphan.

“Or we’ll just hire a set of tutors like we did for our youngest before he went to Yuuei.” She decides what to hang up or fold. You’ll have to go through it all later to find everything. Luckily, you don’t own much—or unluckily, depends on how you look at it. But you don’t dwell on the issue long, responding quickly to the lady, “Alright.”

She smiles at you. It’s sincere, motherly. It’s what your mother would’ve done, before the accident. It’s something you sorely missed since then.

“You’re extremely agreeable, aren’t you?” She finishes out the bag, pressing it into the top of your closet. Your backpack gets sat beside the desk. This room is large and your things are set in its appropriate places across from it.

“I guess.”

“That’s a good thing, darling.” She goes to mess with your hair, “Now, for dinner tonight, let's change you into something a bit nicer, yes?”

You pause, looking at your toes in their pristine white socks. You can see her legs as well, considering how close she is to you, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just have to go shopping for some new things.” Rei replies, taking her other hand to your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “Enji and I know what we are getting ourselves into, buying you a whole new wardrobe will be nothing.”

She takes her hands from your head and into your hands, helping you up.

“Where are we going?” She leads you back from your room to the rest of the house.

“Shopping, darling.” Rei replies, “We have five hours to do so, before I must start dinner, that is. Is there anything you want?”

“No, not really.” She’s already planning to drop a substantial amount of money on you and she’s already being incredibly maternal. You aren’t going to stretch that patience thin and have her snap already. You aren’t going to ruin this for yourself.

She smiles at you, “I’ll figure out what you like soon enough.”

===

The shopping mall standing in front of you was not where you usually would’ve gone. A basic department store, maybe a strip mall if you’re lucky would be where you usually shopped. This place however, is at least four stories high standing stark white and black against the almost colorless blue-grey sky. Though, you don’t get to admire it long. Rei quickly pulls you out of the cold outdoors and into the perfectly heated building.

“Now, I say we head to clothing stores first and then to more home goods type stores, so we don’t have to pack the heavy stuff around. Though, if we get too much to carry, we can send it back to the car and then continue shopping.” Rei replies, “Is that alright?”

You nod, still reluctantly going along this whole situation. The car is actually a limo and you have your own room in a massive estate. You have an impossibly nice and maternal caretaker who’s insanely rich. This is your “Annie” moment; this is your fairytale scenario. The shoe has to drop at some point. You aren’t going to be blindsided when it does.

“Good.” She locks arms with you, holding you close. It’s weird, but not entirely uncomfortable. You want to trust her. Your sense of judgement is clouded, knowing that she can’t really be this nice, but you want her to be like this

She leads you into a clothing store, taking you to the brightly colored section. Rei silently holds a peach colored sweater up to you. She grabs an orange skirt, looking at them both together.

“What do you think of this?” She asks, holding them up together. The sweater is thick,

assumedly warm. The skirt however, isn’t,. You tell her that.

“That’s what some white stockings are for [y/n].” She laughs lightly, “and please call me Rei. You don’t have to be so formal.”

“Alright... Rei.” Acclimating to her is easy. At the moment, you don’t care what the rest of her family is like, she’s nice and maternal and everything you miss from your own mother.

She grabs multiple sweater and skirt combinations, not grabbing a single pair of pants for you. This store doesn’t sell tee shirts or blouses, sticking to a younger, but put together catalog. You briefly entertain the idea of them being traditionalists, but you don’t mind that. You’ve lived in worse houses than one with conservative ideals.

And besides, the outfits are cute. You hope you can keep them if everything goes south.

“Put these on.” She hands you the clothing, “and I want to see every outfit you try on. I want to see if it looks good.”

The fitting rooms are nicer than any you’ve ever been to. When checking the price of the items she’s handed to you, you can see why. The least expensive thing is a 10,000 yen skirt. It’s plain blue, just like the 1,500 yen one you have on now. It's obviously of higher quality, but guilt pangs in your chest at the thought of her spending so much money on you. This is at least a dozen items in here.

You slip it on, alongside the white sweater, filled with gold stars. You look at yourself in the mirror, before heading out the door. Rei sits in a chair, looking at you.

“You look absolutely adorable.” Rei comments, “We’re keeping it.”

She doesn’t let you put your input in. But she’s paying for it, so you don’t complain.

Five more times, you come out in sweater and skirt combinations. She has nothing but praise for each outfit. It’s refreshing. Your last home was less than pleasant.

Rei leaves you to change back into your uniform. All six outfits are bought and placed into two bags, both on her arm away from you. She wraps her other arm into the crook of your arm.

“Onto the next store we go.”

As you all head to a different floor of the mall, you voice concerns you originally had back in the dressing room, “You know… you don’t have to spend so much money on me.” You tell her, then backtrack, “Not that I’m not grateful! I am really! It’s just that I don’t need stuff this fancy, you know?”

“[Y/N], I am your mother now. It’s my duty to get you clothes and stuff.” She says it with a certainty that is oddly comforting. Everything about her is that way, from her soft, smooth skin to her warm, grey eyes to her bright, white smile. She’s intensely maternal, something that you didn’t realize you wanted anymore, until today, “and we must keep you up to the Todoroki standard. After all, you’re going to be one of us for now on.”

Being one of them. You don’t know of any Todorokis; you’ve never been a huge fan of heroes like some of your peers. But belonging, that’s something you’ve craved since it was ripped away from you. A family—that’s what you’ve always wanted.

“All right.”

“Chin up, shoulders back.” She tells you, “You’re new life begins tonight.”

===

Rei never let you carry a single bag throughout your trip. She also wouldn’t let you see any of the receipts or let you have a final word on anything you got. But, you got all nice things—all things you like. So, you don’t mind.

“Change into the white dress with the red and pink roses.” She instructs, “And redo your hair. First impressions are important, after all.”

You haven’t met her husband, nor any of her children. But, as the pictures on the wall show, her husband is Endeavor, the number one hero. Usually you’d meet the person fostering you beforehand, but with his affluence, there needed to be no meetings beforehand.

Following her instructions, you rifle through the bags, finding the dress she wanted you to wear. Slipping out of your old clothes and into the cold, expensive dress is a quick process. Doing your hair to a standard that would make her proud, is not. Eventually you get it right.

Unlike earlier, you take the time to unbag your stuff. You mimic what Rei did in your closet. Shirts, sweaters and dresses are hung up. Skirts, leggings, and stockings are folded in the dresser. The shoes are placed on the inside of your closet. The few decorations you got are placed so that they don’t move what Rei and her husband already got you. She’s extremely peculiar about order. You won’t break that order.

“[Y/N].” She knocks on the door that doesn’t lock, “What’s taking you so long. Do you need help?”

You open the door for her, “I was just putting everything away, Rei.”

She comes in, looking at the room. She pulls the draws out and reopens the closet door, looking inside them. It’s an inspection, to see if everything is up to code.

Rei pinches your cheek, “ It’s perfect, exactly how I imagined it.”

Perfect. She’s praising your work. The word warms your heart, bringing a smile to your face. You haven’t gotten enough praise in your life, clearly.

“Thank you.”

“Now come on.” She tugs at your wrist, “Enji will be here any moment and I need help plating the table. Usually Fuyumi would do it, but you’ll meet my other children at a later date. Tonight is just about you, me, and Enji.”

“Alright.” Relief settles from your scrunched up soldiers. You only have to meet one new person, not five like you assumed. One person is better than five people—even if he is the #1 Hero.

You’re led back through the sitting room and into the dining room. It’s nice, well lit. It’s low to the ground and cushioned. You’ve expected this from this house. Every room besides your own is extremely traditional. You expected the whole house to be like this, once you walked through the doors.

“The plates and cups are in the left cabinet, do be careful with them.” Rei points to a side room, at the back of the dining room, “I’ll bring in the cutlery. Enji should be here soon.”

As if on cue, you hear the front door being opened. A low voice calls out, “Rei, darling? [Y/N]?”

You freeze, plates and cups in hand. Something about the number one hero calling out of your name unsettles you. Though, somehow immediately aware of your apprehension, Rei places a cold hand against your back. You can feel it through the dress, which isn’t surprising, considering how thin it is.

“We’re in the dining room, honey.” Rei takes the plates and cups from your hands, placing them down and simultaneously leading you to your seat. You sit, legs together and bent to the side. You sit currently in the seat to the left of the table’s end.

The number one hero—Rei’s husband—kisses her cheek. He towers over her. She was waiting for him at the entrance. You try not to make any noise; you try not to interrupt them.

She heads to the seat across from you, leaving Endeavor to sit at the head of the table. You aren’t surprised; this family gives of very traditional vibes. He radiates heat to your right, still aflame, showing off his powerful quirk.

The food is already on the table. It’s more than enough for the three people here, possibly more than enough for the six people in the photos—plus yourself. You make your own plate, only getting what you know you’ll eat. You don’t want to take too much, you don’t want to be greedy.

“Make sure you actually get full, [Y/N].” Rei smiles at you. It’s warm and soft.

“I am, Miss.” You can feel Endeavor staring at you, but you don’t look at him. You shift your head down, looking at the plate in front of you. You don’t grab more; you don’t want to ruin their hospitality with your selfishness.

Rei and Endeavor talk to themselves, mostly about work. They occasionally talk about three other people—Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo. There are four children in the photos on the wall; it’s a family of six. Though, you don’t ask about the unnamed child, it isn’t your place to do so.

You finish your food fairly quickly, but so do the other two. You look up at Endeavor for the first time tonight, asking, “Can I be excused, sir.”

“No.” He replies, “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh… alright.” You fiddle with the hem of your dress underneath the table, “What do you want to discuss, sir?”

“I’ll take the dirty dishes and excess food.” Rei smiles at you, “You’ll be fine, [Y/N]. Pass me your plate.”

Endeavor waits for Rei to leave to start talking. You are acutely aware of how hot it is now, without Rei’s cooling, calming effect.

“How was your day today?” He starts the conversation off decently well. You look him in the eye, “Good.” You were taught manners growing up; you know how to hold a conversation, no matter how intimidating the person you’re talking to is.

“That is a pretty dress on you, [Y/N].”

“Thank you.”

“Now then. While you are here, there shall be rules you will follow. Rei and I have devised a fair list and she’ll go over them with you extensively in the morning.” He tells you, “Though, the ones concerning you tonight are: no technology post-dinner and that you shall be in bed by ten o’clock. Rei shall wake you up at seven am tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Those aren’t too harsh rules; other homes have had worst lists. Though, you won’t make a final decision on that until tomorrow. You tentatively ask another question, “Uhhh, sir. Rei mentioned other children. If you don’t mind me asking, where are they?”

“Shoto goes to U.A. They have dorms now and are forced to stay there. Fuyumi and Natsuo have since moved out, but visit occasionally. You’ll meet them when it is appropriate.” Endeavor tells you, “And [Y/N], call me Enji. You are now dismissed.”

“Alright, Enji.” As you stand to leave, you use his name, “Thank you.”

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #mha #bnha #platonic yandere #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #enji todoroki #rei todoroki #canon? what canon?#who was going to tell me that my line breaks dont transfer over to tumblr like they do to ao3

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heliads · 3 years

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Curiosities

You feel that life can be divided up into a select set of curiosities- rules by which you live and breathe, that explain away everything in your life as a mutant. You’re doing fine until a certain boy named Peter Maximoff throws everything into disarray.

masterlist

If you try hard enough, everything that happens to you can be sorted out into a list of curiosities. You’re not sure how long you’d been thinking about it this way, but it made enough sense if you really thought about it. Your life was different, ever-changing, and if you kept it locked away within the list of curiosities, you could get a handle on it long enough to peek through the chest of memories that would otherwise fly open and swallow you whole.

Curiosity #1: You were a mutant.

This in itself was relatively easy to explain. When you were about ten, maybe twelve, you started to show the first signs of your power. A faint stirring in the shade in the corner of the room, the fact that you were never afraid of the dark. You waved to your shadow with your left hand, it responded by moving the ankle on its right. By the time you were about fourteen, your powers had fully come into being: you were able to control the shadows. You could bring them into existence, spooling black fog around your fingers and forcing it to your will.

Curiosity #2: Even among mutants, you were an outcast.

You had come to Professor Xavier’s school when the building itself was fairly uninhabited. Xavier understood you; but then again, he was able to look past the dark furrow of your brow and into the sunny spaces of your head; he could tell that you didn’t wish to hurt anybody. None of the other students shared that same gift, except perhaps Jean, but she didn’t particularly wish to go probing into your skull.

When the school was still new and lacking in students, you were able to grow and flourish as a mutant. The Professor taught you how to use your powers himself, and you had full reign over the grounds. Then, more students started to appear, and they took up more and more of Xavier’s time. Before long, he barely saw you at all.

The other students didn’t know what to make of you. They could understand mutants with cool, interesting powers, like Storm with her weather manipulation or Mystique with her ability to change forms. Furry, blue teachers were acceptable; you were not. They were afraid of how you could control the shadows, how you seemed part darkness yourself. They drew away from you, huddling in the hallways and not making eye contact when you walked by. Slowly, a hated nickname surfaced: Suffocator. They were terrified that you would reach out a hand, call the darkness to you, make it cover their mouth and nose and choke out all air from their desperate lungs. You hated it, but it didn’t matter. Suffocator you were, and suffocator you would always be.

One night, a few of the mutants your age were bored and wanted to throw a party. Someone, maybe Jubilee, had heard of this thing called a masquerade party on one of her trips to the mall or somewhere outside of the school. She was desperate to try it out, and so Xavier’s School had posters everywhere across campus advertising the party.

When you first heard of it, you weren’t planning on going. Nobody wanted you there, not the girl who lurked in the shadows and didn’t speak to anyone. Then you realized that everyone would be wearing a mask and intentionally disguising their identity- nobody would know who you were. It almost seemed too good to be true.

A few days later, the day of the masquerade party arrived. You had donned a sapphire blue mask, one that shimmered like the lake just outside the school when the sun crossed its waves. The glittering, twinkling sea would hide your face from those who would otherwise distrust you. You had glanced at yourself in the mirror before you went; you did not look like yourself. You smiled in satisfaction, and headed out.

The party was being held in one of the empty halls of the school, and you blended in seamlessly with the other mutants. You talked and laughed with them, and they had no idea that they were speaking with the girl they’d avoided just a few hours earlier. You found yourself smiling and having more fun than you’d had in months.

Then, you became aware of one student heading towards you. Tall, overbearing Natalie: she had always hated you for some unknown reason. She glanced once at the group of friends you were speaking with, then folded her arms across her chest. “Do you know who you’re talking to?” She said, and the group looked from her to you and shook their heads. Natalie donned a gleeful smirk. “That’s Y/N. I’m not sure you really want to be spending that much time with her.”

The group of mutants cast you fearful looks once they realize it’s you, and start to walk away. Natalie is the only one who remains, and she crosses the final few feet to stand in front of you. Her voice comes in a loud hiss that seems to echo around the room. “Suffocator.”

A blur of silver flashes around you, and then a boy suddenly appears in front of you. “Those are strong words for someone who can’t even figure out empathy. I mean, come on- yesterday someone was crying in front of you and it took you half an hour to figure out they were sad.” Natalie draws back, angry. “Rude, Maximoff! Hasn’t Xavier told you not to make fun of people’s powers? Empathy is hard.” The silver-haired boy laughs. “Not making fun of people’s powers? I think you’re the one who needs to work on that, not me.”

Natalie rolls her eyes, trying to hide her annoyance at the fact that she’s losing this argument. “Whatever. I’m bored of this already.” She stomps away to hang out with her other friends, leaving you to stare at the boy who’d suddenly come to your defense. Of all the mutants, why would it be Peter?

Curiosity #3: Peter Maximoff.

Nobody at Xavier’s school trusted you. Nobody, it seemed, except for Peter. Ever since that day, he’d been relentless in his task to befriend you. You’re not sure why- everyone else had given up on you long ago. It’s not like you didn’t want friends, or that you were that strange a person. You were like everyone else: happy, laughing, friendly. It’s just the threat of your powers, so strange and unnatural, that forced everyone else away.

But not him. No, Peter refused to let your powers daunt him in the slightest. He’d be there after class, walking nonchalantly beside you. It didn’t seem like a friendship borne of pity- no, he teased you and made the same jokes as he would with everyone else. He even called you Suffocator once, that dreaded nickname, although it didn’t have that same barb as it did before. Maybe that’s because the other students used it as a knife to stab at you before running away. Instead, Peter tossed it like a paper plane, letting it float through the air as the two of you laughed from a joke. He didn’t want anything more than friendship, and so the two of you hung out after class, fighting mock battles with your powers and enjoying the time to be two simple teenagers in the otherwise strange world of mutants.

Curiosity #4: The quiet.

You’re not sure when you notice the silence at first. It’s just another day, ordinary in its dullness. You’re in the back of the grounds, away from the large groups of people in an attempt to study for a test you have later. You look up, once, fishing for a sticky note to mark the end of the chapter, but your eyes stay searching even after your hands close around the pad of paper.

You can’t hear anything. Well, that’s not entirely true. The birds still chirp, although with odd hesitation, as if afraid to sing too loudly. The wind still rustles the trees, but slowly, as if trying not to be noticed. The everlasting din of the students, though, that is gone. You push your books into your bag, standing up quietly. Even the zip of your backpack seems to echo in the silence.

This is strange. What happened to make the air so tense, the students shut their mouths for once to stand together in quiet? You sling your backpack over your shoulder, heading quickly to the front of the school to see what the fuss (or lack of, rather) is about.

There’s nothing at the front of the school, either. In fact, there aren’t that many people there. The only mutants out are Jean, Peter, Storm, Scott, and Nightcrawler. You watch as Jean presses her fingers to her temples, sending out a message that you only now pick up in your head. Go inside now. Don’t look out. Get the Professor. It echoes on a loop inside your brain, appearing only now that you’re close enough to the sender.

You glance around you, searching for some trouble that would cause Jean to send out such a message. Then, you see it- three large armored trucks headed your way, military logos emblazoned on the sides. This sort of thing happens every few years or so- some military higher-up decides that the mutants are too dangerous to be kept alive, and they attempt to round up everyone at the school. Xavier is usually there to put a stop to it, but today he’s out in some big city doing official business, so he’s not here to protect you. In fact, the only ones here to protect you are yourselves.

You watch as the trucks roll closer. Once they reach the gate, they stop, and soldiers start to stream out of it. Storm shouts over to Jean. “Are we doing anything about this?” Jean nods, her hair flicking out behind her like tongues of flame. “We’re stopping them. They want a fight, I can hear it. That’s just what they’ll get.” She says, and the mutants around her prepare themselves for a battle.

Curiosity #5: You stay to fight.

Why are you still here? Jean told everyone who wasn’t one of Xavier’s hand picked team to go inside, and yet you’re still cracking your knuckles out in front of the school just like everyone else. Maybe it’s because you want a taste for just how much damage your powers can deal out, or maybe it’s because you finally have a chance to prove yourself to be a hero, to fight like the others and make a name for yourself as someone who’s in it to protect the other students, even if they wouldn’t protect her. Regardless of the reason, the outcome stays the same. You’re here to fight.

When the men start running forward, you realize with sickening dread that they’ve brought guns, and dangerous ones at that. You’re not sure why they thought they’d need military grade rifles at a school, but they’re out and loaded nonetheless. They raise them towards you, launching a volley of bullets, but you throw up your arms and a wall of shadow appears in between the mutants and the guns, blocking the bullets and forcing them to the ground.

Jean turns to you, amazed. “Actually, I think it would be better if you stayed with us.” You grin slightly at that, turning your attention back to the soldiers. You and the other mutants fight in unison, powers working together as fluidly as a well oiled machine. You seem to compliment them, understanding their hurried motions as if you’d been working with them your entire life.

Before you know it, the soldiers are hurrying back to the armored trucks, gesturing frantically at the drivers to get them out of here before they are killed by a bunch of kids with magic powers. The mutants look happily amongst yourselves, proud that you’d managed to defend the school against the soldiers. Together, you’d protected everyone here.

The night is starting to grow late, and everyone is out on the grounds in celebration. It’s not everyday that a bunch of teenagers fight back against the military and win, you know. You idle near a group of mutants, red plastic cup in hand just like them. Something feels odd, and it takes you a moment to notice what it is. Nobody’s scared of you. There aren’t any students huddled together, looking at you through nervous eyes that flick away when you catch sight of them. No pointed fingers, no hushed whispers. Maybe you’ve finally been accepted as one of them.

Jean approaches from across the field, stopping at a group of mutants only a few feet away from you. She leans towards Storm, tapping her on the shoulder. “Scott, Peter, Kurt, and I are hanging out in another corner of the woods. You know, victory party and all that? Come with us.” Her voice is a low whisper, but you can’t help smiling at it. You wait for her to nod at you, to ask you the same question, but strangely enough, she just slings an arm around Storm’s shoulder and the two of them walk away into the woods, leaving you behind.

She saw you. You know she saw you- her eyes glanced over you before they left. Her eyes weren’t glinting with hatred, some ill-concealed malice or anything. This wasn’t a plot to intentionally leave you out, she just didn’t see you as someone to invite, even though you’d been a key part of that victory group she seems so keen to celebrate. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks- no matter how hard you try, how many times you fight to protect them, they will never see you as a friend. All because they don’t understand your powers.

Dazedly, you leave the grounds where the rest of the mutants are celebrating. You find some quiet corner of the woods, a place that’s tucked away where nobody will notice you. The ‘victory party’ is on the opposite side of the grounds, so you know that you don’t have to fear anyone accidentally stumbling across you.

You slide to the ground, leaning back against the sturdy trunk of one of the many trees that stand tall and proud around the school’s forest. You cover your face in your hands, feeling all of your emotions finally catch up with you. You wish you could prove yourself in some way, that your powers may physically be dark but that you weren’t a monster, but it doesn’t matter how hard you try. You’ll never be anything more than a villain to them.

Silent tears course down your cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more alone than this night, even when things seemed impossible. No matter how bad things were before, this night manages to take the cake. There’s a cracking sound behind you, and you wipe your tears away hurriedly as you realize someone’s walking up to you.

“What are you doing all alone? Don’t you know we’re celebrating?” It’s Peter. Of course it is. You turn to face him, hoping the darkness will obscure the puffiness in your eyes. “Guess I was just tired.” You plaster on a smile, praying that he’ll get bored and go rejoin the others, but no such luck. He plops down in the grass next to you, arms stretched back behind him.

“Why aren’t you with Jean and the rest?” He says, and you frown at him. “What do you mean?” You ask. Peter furrows his brow. “You know, the victory party. You were there when the soldiers attacked, and you saved our skins like a dozen times over. Why aren’t you with them?” You look at him, willing him to be observant for just this once. “I just didn’t feel like going.” Peter rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. Stop being your dramatic little self and just come on. The rest will be happy to see you.”

He extends an arm as if to drag you there himself. You sigh frustratedly. “Fine, Peter. I’m not being dramatic. I know there’s a party, and I also know that they very much do not want me there. I was there when Jean asked Storm to hang out with Scott, Kurt, and the rest. She knew I was there, she saw me, and she didn’t ask the same of me.” Your voice breaks off. “It’s pretty obvious that no one here wants me to be there. Hell, no one here wants me to be at this school at all, and the only one who can’t see that is you.”

Peter’s silent for a second, and you curse inwardly. Now you’ve gone and made Peter, the one person who’s been here for you, feel bad about himself. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just gets up and leaves now. But he doesn’t. In fact, a smile flashes across his face. “That’s because they’re idiots.” You look at him, confused. “What?” He laughs. “They’re idiots, and you’re an idiot for listening to them.”

He gestures absentmindedly at you. “Y/N, you’ve got one of the coolest powers I’ve ever seen, and for what, so you can be sad about it? Are you really telling me you’d rather be an empath than control the shadows? That’s like, the neatest thing ever.” His words, spoken with such conviction, bring a laugh to your face as well. Peter’s eyes light up when he sees it. “See, there you go. Come on, let’s have some fun. We don’t need them if they’re being weird.”

Your laugh dies off quietly as you look back at him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you taking the time to make me feel better? You make fun of your own friends and rob convenience stores when you’re bored. Since when has Quicksilver gone this far out of his way to make somebody laugh?” Peter smiles at you, then leans forward. His lips are on yours, suddenly, his hand gently cupped against your cheek. Just as you’ve realized what’s happening, he’s back in his spot a few feet away again. He smirks at you. “That’s why.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “That’s why. Well, I guess that’s an acceptable reason.” Peter smiles. “Only acceptable? That’s not the best thing I’ve heard, but I suppose it’ll be okay for now.” He stands up, offering a hand to you. You take it. “So, are you coming with me or not? I intend to cause all sorts of chaos.” You look over at him, laughter dancing in your eyes. “Of course I am.”

Curiosity #6: Peter Maximoff loves you. And you love him.

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bbdaydreams · 3 years

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Build-A-Bear// Suna Rintaro

Pairing: Suna Rintaro x Reader, Suna Rintaro and his little sister (sibling relationship)

Summary: Rintaro needs an anniversary gift for his partner but is too embarrassed to go into Build-A-Bear by himself so he takes his little sister with him

“Suna, are you coming over today?” Osamu asked his best friend as them and other members of their volleyball team were walking home.

“Can’t, babysitting duty,” Suna simply responded while texting you, finalizing your plans to see each other tomorrow to celebrate your one year anniversary. “I gotta go pick them up, see you guys.”

“Later, Suna.” They bid each other farewell and started walking in different directions.

“Rin!” The 8 year old girl squealed when she saw her brother walking towards her on the playground.

He was quick to hug her when she reached him and swing her bag over his shoulder. “Ready for today, Azu?”

“Yes! I’m gonna make the cutest stuffed animal ever!”

All throughout the walk home, Azusa was talking about how excited she was to build a bear with her brother and the accessories she would pick. It took everything in Rintaro’s body to not laugh at the amount of times his sister would talk about how much swag their plushie was gonna have.

Azusa did have to admit that Rintaro’s idea of going to Build-A-Bear did surprise her. Rintaro was never one to take out his little sister out to public spaces by himself besides their neighborhood. Usually the only time they went anywhere together was when someone else was there, typically either one of their parents or you. Rintaro preferred just staying at home and watching over Azusa when he was on babysitting duty because he never wanted to risk anything happening to his precious little sister. This time was an exception because he wanted to get you a gift for your anniversary. He’d rather lose a game than go into that store by himself though. Thus, the idea of bringing Azusa came into his mind, even if it meant spending all his money.

Rintaro didn’t have time for a job considering the majority of his extra time went towards volleyball, watching his sister, or you. Therefore, the only way he could think of getting some cash was by doing tasks for his neighbors such as getting groceries, raking up leaves, and his personal favorite which was walking dogs because it gave him a companion during his workout runs. He also wasn’t above using his sister to his advantage to get some extra cash. If there’s one thing the elders in his neighborhood adored, it was his sweet sister. Azusa was always happy go lucky and loved talking to them just as much as they did her. It was only logical for Rintaro to bring her along in hopes to get himself a bigger tip. Most of the time, Azusa was more so a blessing rather than a pain in the ass like most siblings.

When they got home, they quickly changed out of their uniforms and into their casual clothes, Rintaro’s which consisted of black jeans with a black hoodie to draw less attention to himself incase someone he knew was also at the mall. Once the Suna siblings were ready and Rintaro triple checked that he had the subway passes and cash, they were on their way.

“Oh my goodness, there’s so many!” Azusa said once they walked into the store.

“Don’t let go of my hand, okay?” Rintaro told his sister while walking towards the unstuffed plushies to go make their selection.

After about five minutes, Azusa settled on a raccoon and went to go walking again just to fly back into her brother since he was still holding her hand. That was when she noticed her brother was still looking back and fourth between the options the store had to offer. “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why are you looking?”

“I wanna find a gift for Y/n. Tomorrow we’re going to be celebrating our one year that we’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend. It’s called an anniversary,” Rintaro explained while taking a couple side steps to get a better view of other the animals.

“Oh! You should get them a fox!”

“A fox?”

“Yeah! It looks like you. They also sometimes call you a sneaky fox,” Azusa explained while also walking back to the section where she grabbed her raccoon since she remembered the fox was in the bin next to it. “Get this one, Rin!”

Rintaro accepted the skin his sister was handing him and held it outwards to examine it while also looking at the display of it. “Good pick, Azu,” Rintaro spoke with a small smile.

Proud that her brother appreciated her choice, she dragged him to the next station which was the sound clips.

“What about this one?” Suna asked while picking one of the voice boxes up. “It says ‘I love you’.”

“No! Do this one!”

“Azu, this one has no sound,” he deadpanned confused to why his sister would swap it for his first choice.

“That’s because you have to record it, duh. Sometimes you can be really dumb,” she laughed while looking up at him. “Press this button and say ‘I love you, Y/n’ and then let go to stop recording.”

“Out loud?” Rintaro asked with wide eyes.

“Yes, silly goose!”

Rintaro loves you, he really does. He has no problem telling you straight up when you’re alone together that he loves you. But now announcing it to other people when you’re not even there? That’s embarrassing for him. And on top of it speaking it into existence out loud for everyone within a 5 foot radius to hear him? Even worse. “Why don’t you do it, Azu? I think they like your voice better than mine.”

“You liar! They like yours more! It has to be you, you’re their boyfriend!” Azusa snapped. For a little girl with no experience, they were very invested in your relationship.

“Fine. ‘I love you’. Done.”

“No, you didn’t say their name! That makes it more thoughtfully!”

“You mean ‘thoughtful’. And alright I’ll re-recorded it. ‘I love you, Y/n’.”

“Good,” Azusa said while grabbing the box to listen to it. “Not good, you’re too quiet. I can’t hear it good.”

At this point, Rintaro was questioning if this fox would be worth it in the end for you. He knew better than to go against his sister though. “Fine but this is the last time. ‘I love you, Y/n. Happy one year anniversary’. This one better be perfect.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he could feel his face start to heat up. By speaking up louder to record his message, he’d doubled the five foot radius to ten.

“Ahh, young love,” he heard a grandmother speak which only caused more embarrassment leading to him mumbling the words ‘fucking hell’, earning him a smack to the stomach from his sister.

“Don’t say bad words,” Azusa said while pulling on his hand to take him to the stuffing machine.

“I guess I’ll pick this red heart?” Rintaro told the worker confused as to why he had to pick one himself.

“Ok, great! So what you’re going to do with that is rub it in your hands to make it all nice and warm, spin around five times, jump up and down three times, pat your head and rub your belly ten times, and then give it a nice kiss to make sure your love sticks to the heart and will forever be in your new friend!”

“Azusa, you do it for me,” Rintaro pleaded to the litle girl, not wanting to embarrass himself anymore than he already has in the middle of the store. “I will get you your raccoon, a cinnabon, and anything else you want, please-“

“No! You have to do it! It’s to make it more magicalar and specialer,” Azusa explained while grabbing her own heart from the container. “I’ll do it with you.”

Rintaro loves you, he really does, so you better love this fox as much as he loves you.

Standing up with a defeated look he did what the associate asked of him while looking up at the ceiling and chanting in his head ‘I love y/n’ repeatedly until all the tasks where done. He handed the small heart to the worker when they asked for it and they shoved it into where the heart would normally go in the fox’s chest before stuffing it more and then sewing the seam shut.

“That was fun,” Azusa giggled now walking towards the outfits.

“For you!” he told her while following her now holding the two stuffed woodland creatures.

“Someone’s upset that they had to make their heart magical. I’m telling Y/n you don’t love her and that you were being mean to me.”

Ya know how I said Azusa was more of a blessing than a pain in the ass? Now was not one of those times.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Rintaro gritted through his teeth looking down at the other Suna.

“I would... unless-“

“No ice cream for you.”

“I- what? You can’t do that to me!”

“I can and I will, now come on let’s dress up your raccoon so it’s covered in drip.”

With a pout Azusa dropped the petty argument they were having and looked through the clothes. She grabbed a pink dress with a matching princess hat and started dressing up the plush while Rintaro settled on just a black hoodie that had a red heart on it.

“You’re making your raccoon a princess?” he asked joining her on the table, struggling to get the plush’s arm through the respective hood hole.

“Yes. I think she’s beautiful,” Azusa responded, smiling at her work.

“Ok, well I think we’re done now-“

“Nope, we have to make the birth certificates!”

“...The what now?”

“I have to name this thing?”

“It’s not a thing, it’s your first kid! Hurry up, I wanna get ice cream with Lady,” Azusa stated referring to the now completed raccoon princess.

“Alright, alright,” Rintaro complained taking the seat his sister was in previously. A tall person sitting in a chair made for children was a funny sight considering he currently had his feet flat on the ground while his elbows touched his knees. “I’m done now, so let’s go pay.”

Once Rintaro finished paying, he took both boxes from the cashier and thanked them before leaving the store with his sister. “We’re gonna get ice cream on the way home okay? We’re not doing anything else here-“

“Yo, is that Azusa? Where’s Suna I thought he was watching her!”

“You dumbass, the guy dressed in all back is Suna.”

“Oh no.”

“Tsumu! Samu!” Azusa called out when she saw the twins.

“Hey, kiddo,” Atsumu greeted her while bending down to her level to pat her head.

Osamu said hello as well but he was more focused on the taller Suna sibling. “Whatcha got there, buddy?”

“Nothing,“ Rintaro responded, breaking out in a small nervous sweat before the smaller Suna took over.

“Big brother took me to Build-A-Bear! I made a raccoon and he made a fox! Do you wanna see?” Azusa answered for him, not picking up on the energy he was radiating.

“How about the next time we come over. But Suna, you made one?”

“Bro, I didn’t know you collected stuffed animals,” Atsumu joined in.

“You guys are funny. He made it for Y/n because tomorrow is their an-ni-ver-sar-y, is that how you say it?”

“Anniversary? Oh is that so? Is this the real reason why you couldn’t hang out with us Suna-dear?”

“At least I am in a relationship unlike you two. The next time I serve you guys better protect the back of your heads,” Rintaro told them while trying to pull his sister towards the direction they entered the mall to leave.

“Hey, c’mon dude. You know I was just kidding,” Osamu said dropping the teasing act.

“Yeah! You didn’t have to hurt my ego that bad. I’ll be honest though, I’m surprised. I never would’ve taken you as a softie,” Atsumu spoke up.

“I have to agree with him on this one. That’s enough bothering you though, knowing them, they’ll be happy with just spending time with you. They’re gonna really like whatever you got them.”

“Oh for sure. Y/n really is a keeper, good thing they’re with you, Suna.”

The Miya twins stood and gave a genuine smile to their friend after their words of reassurance, which in all honesty was an uneasy sight. “You guys are creeps, but thanks. I actually needed to hear that, I was starting to get nervous about giving this to them.”

“Rin, can we go get ice cream now?”

It was currently noon and Rintaro was struggling trying to decide how to present your gift. That morning he went off to the dollar store to purchase some supplies to make a gift basket for you with the plushie as the centerpiece.

“Rin, what are you doing?” Azusa asked as she poked her head into his room.

“Decorating. I feel like something is missing?” he responded before leaning back to look at his work. “Shi- I mean shoot. I forgot to get her favorite candy!”

“I’ll be back!” And with that Azusa ran to her room only to come back a couple minutes after. “Here, she told me she likes all of these ones,” she stated while holding a bunch of what actually are your favorite and a giant version of your least favorite.

“Sis, I don’t think Y/n likes these ones.”

“No, they do! I gave her one the first day she came over. She said thank you, took a bite, and then saved the rest for later.” Rintaro remembers that day. Azusa handed you it and you gave him a scared look not knowing what to do. You didn’t have the heart to tell the little girl your true thoughts because she was so excited to meet you so you unwrapped it, look a bite and pretended to chew before saying thank you and telling her you’d be back because you were going to the bathroom. As you passed Rintaro, he was trying to hold in his laughter which gave you the chance to slip the candy into his pocket before entering the bathroom and spitting out the chunk you were holding in your mouth.

“Alright Azusa, I’m trusting you on this one.” He told her, knowing you wouldn’t like it, but would still appreciate the thought.

*ding dong*

“She’s here!” Azusa grabbed her brother’s phone and shot up and ran towards their front door, checking first to see who it was before opening it. Panicking, he rapidly rearranged his sisters candy along with the small decorative hearts and the other little gifts he got you in the basket.

“Rin-Rin!” you called out making your way to his room.

He quickly got up and gently put your gift into his closet before opening the door. “Hey, babe,” Rintaro smiled before placing a delicate kiss on your cheek. “Azusa, go watch TV, okay?”

“Fine.”

“She’s funny,” you giggled, sitting down on your usual spot which was the edge of Rintaro’s bed.

“Pain in my ass,” he responded, following you but then sitting on the floor with his back against the bed and between your legs so you would play with his hair. When he got settled he looked up only to see you smiling down at him. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“I wanna give you your gift!”

“I thought we were gonna wait till after we got lunch.”

You started taking off your backpack and pulled out a box before responding. “Well, I’m too excited.” Rintaro leaned forward so you could get off the bed and sit across from him. “Here you go!” You handed him the wrapped box with a nervous smile on your face which he wanted to question but went against.

He carefully unwrapped the box recognizing the logo on the box and started worrying about how much you spent on him. “Shoes?”

“Open it, open it.”

His eyes grew wide upon realization of what you had gotten him. “Babe you didn’t.”

“They’re the ones you wanted right? Is the size right? I asked Atsumu to get that information for me but you know how he is.”

“So that’s why he stole my shoe last week during practice. But yeah, these are the ones I said I wanted. They’re perfect Y/n, thank you,” he reassured you only to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m glad,” you told him letting out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“Not gonna lie, I don’t know if you’ll like my gift,” Rintaro told you honestly while getting up to go fetch your gift.

“Rin don’t be silly. I’d be satisfied with nothing.”

“You say that but I don’t trust you. Can you close your eyes? The gift isn’t wrapped.”

“Suna Rintaro I swear to god if it’s-“ you started while complying and using your hands to cover your eyes.

“It’s not that! Who the hell do you think I am? Open them.”

Uncovering your eyes you saw your boyfriend sitting cross legged with a weaved basket in his lap. In the basket was a lot of things you enjoyed, but the centerpiece is what really grabbed your attention. “Oh my god. You did not get me something this cute and thoughtful, Rin.”

“Do you like it?”

“Rintaro, I love it. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever gotten for me. I can’t believe you got me something like this and all I did was get you a pair of shoes I’m so-“

“Y/n, stop. I love your gift. I would’ve been satisfied with nothing too. Now here, enjoy your gift,” he told you while holding the basket more towards you. You accepted the basket and set it next to you and picked up the plushie to examine it.

“You got me a stuffed animal?”

“I wanted it to be something you could cuddle since I know I’m busy a lot. It being a fox was Azusa’s idea,” he admitted sheepishly.

“It’s so cute and looks just like you. I love it,” you told him before hugging the stuffed fox.

“I love you, Y/n. Happy one year anniversary.”

It was at that moment, that Suna Rintaro realized how whipped he was. His face immediately turned scarlet and he was debating if he should run laps on the school track just to get away from you.

“Rin-Rin,” you said before looking up to him with tears in your eyes only to squish the plush again to hear his voice.

“Y/n...“

“Suna Rintaro,” you choked out before throwing yourself onto your boyfriend. “I love it, I love it so much Rin-Rin. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so so much.”

At this point, Rintaro was glad he spent an hour at that store. Having you in his arms like you were right now was completely worth the embarrassment.

“I love you, too.”

BONUS

“Oh, here’s the birth certificate.”

“Aw, you named them after our ship name. That’s so funny!”

“I tried to be creative with it ya know? I gotta go to the bathroom really quick, b-r-b,” Rintaro excused himself before leaving the room. “You recorded everything right, Azusa?” Rintaro asked his sister.

“Yep, yep, yep,” she responded while handing his phone back.

“Awesome, here is your payment for recording,” he told her while exchanging a specific candy bar for his cellular device.

“Alright! This is the best one, too!”

#Suna Rintaro #Suna #Suna Rintaro x reader #Suna x Reader #haikyuu!!#Haikyu #Rintaro Suna #suna rintaro fluff #hq #hq suna

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iamdeku · 3 years

Text

Little Patch of Heaven: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

A convenience store au in which a certain explosive blonde is your boss, and you have a little crush.

Warnings: age gap! There is a slight age gap here between Bakugou and the reader. Reader is meant to be about 20, while Bakugou is 26-27-ish. This isn’t a huge gap, but if it makes you uncomfortable please don’t read on. Also sexual innuendo and a sleazy guy hitting on you.

You weren’t sure when you had started crushing on your boss, of all people. It had all started off very innocent, a friendship with the ornery man you had wanted to like you. That was all you had wanted. For him to not actively hate you like he did everybody else.

Somehow you had ended up here, throwing furtive glances his way, afraid he would catch you but unable to stop. While he worked the register you stocked the shelves, taking the time to admire him. The muscles in his arms flexed beautifully when he turned items to scan them, and you swear the red light of the scanner highlighted the veins in his arms like that was its designated purpose. Light filtered through the window, the beams hitting his white blonde undercut and fluttering through your heart. You couldn’t be doing this.

There were, as far as you could figure, three main problems with your crush on Bakugou Katsuki. The first was that he was your boss, and you had a strict policy against dating coworkers after watching your best friend in high school date a coworker and have a disastrous breakup resulting in her refusing to step foot in the local mall. Yeah. It was that kind of bad.

Second, Bakugou Katsuki hated everyone, and you weren’t an exception. Sure, you were pretty sure he didn’t hate you the way he hated everybody else, but that didn’t mean he would ever feel the same about you as you did about him. The biggest problem of all, however, was his age.

He wasn’t that much older than you, but what with you working this job while attending college and him being a fully functional adult man who had long passed his college days, you knew he would only ever see you as a kid. It was one of those unfortunate facts of life you’d prefer to ignore.

That being said, you weren’t short of suitors, oh no. Working at a convenience store like this, there were plenty of sleazy guys who liked to come by and pick on you when your boss was nowhere to be seen. You usually just ignored them, trying to make the best of it and laughing it off. Sometimes though, they got bold.

Bakugou had gone into the back room to check something out, and you were covering for him on register when things took a turn for the worse.

A gruff looking man who was probably in his mid-40’s came in, and the moment he walked through the door you could smell the alcohol coming off him in waves. He reeked of drunkenness, a fact that filled you with dread. You hoped he was harmless.

He headed straight towards you, and you felt every muscle in your body tense up. The store was basically empty right now, which did nothing to comfort you.

“Hey sweetheart. A pack of cigarettes, if you please.” He leered, leaning against the counter.

You shrank back, trying not to be too close to him.

“Sure, what kind?” You asked, customer service voice still firmly in place despite your disgust.

He specified what he wanted, and you grabbed them for him, intent on checking him out quickly so he would get out of here and leave you alone with no further incident. He had other plans, though.

“Do you smoke?” he asked.

“No. Not my style.” You shrugged.

“You should. Your lips would look real pretty wrapped around a cigarette. I can think of some other things they would look pretty wrapped around, too.”

You pretended not to understand him, ringing up his total and reminding yourself he would be out the door mere moments from now without any further complications, and you would never have to think of him again. You took his cash for the cigarettes, returning his change hastily and wishing him a good day.

“Now hold on there just a minute,” he said. “You forgot something. You still haven’t given me your phone number.”

You laughed nervously, pretending and hoping that he was joking. He was not, and he stayed put, staring you down.

“I’m afraid it’s against store policy for me to provide my number to customers while on the clock,” you lied diplomatically.

“That’s bull,” he said. “If I was one of those cute little boys that come in here I bet you’d be tripping over yourself to give me your number. I think somebody needs to teach you a lesson. A little girly like you probably has a thing or two to learn that she can only be taught by a real man.”

“Do tell,” you hear a voice behind you start. “What qualifies as a real man? Because I’m pretty sure you’re slime somebody pulled out of the gutter and rolled into a ball.”

Bakugou’s voice behind you comes out as more of a growl than anything else, but the man is too drunk to register the very present threat.

“Oh, is this your little girl then? You should teach her to obey better.”

The word makes you bristle. He’s talking about you as though you’re a dog to be trained, and with Bakugou at your back like this you aren’t afraid of this man hurting you. He couldn’t even get close, especially not with your boss’s powerful quirk.

“I’m not an animal. The only person I obey is myself. I do what I want when I want, so you should leave before I decide I want to castrate you.” You spit the words with all the venom in your body.

“You’d better watch your mouth,” the man growled.

He raised a hand, and for a moment you felt the tension build in your body before another much larger hand wrapped around his wrist in a vice grip.

“You lay a single finger on her and I will blow up this hand. The other one I’ll do just for fun.”

Katsuki runs some sparks through his fingers to make his point, and you watch as the man’s face pales.

“You- I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Get out of my store. Before she makes you.”

Bakugou doesn’t need to say any more before the man is skuttling off, feet barely moving fast enough to stay underneath him. You take a shaky breath, a bad taste left in your mouth from the encounter. You hated when things like this happened, and though you could have easily taken care of it on your own you were grateful for a little backup.

“Thanks Bakugou,” you said. “I was afraid that one was going to get messy, but you never know. Sometimes they just like to play with their food.”

You shrugged, turning back to the register and going back to work.

“What do you mean?” Bakugou asked.

“Oh, you know guys like that. They’re usually pretty much harmless, but sometimes they don’t take no for an answer, and then I have to get a little strict.”

“That…happens a lot?”

The surprise in his tone confuses you. Surely a man who runs a convenience store had to know that the customers here were not always the friendliest. Or rather, they could be altogether too friendly.

“Yeah. At least once or twice in a shift. It kind of comes with the territory of working here.”

You turn around only to be confronted with Bakugou’s horrified face, and you know the sparks crackling along his arms this time are no controlled display.

“If one of those bastards ever tries anything like that again or so much as makes you uncomfortable, you come get me right away. You got that?”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s no good driving away customers.”

His fists clench, the silver rings on his long fingers clicking against each other. “I don’t care what you think you can do. If that happens again, you come to me.”

That pissed you off. Who did he think he was? You knew he didn’t think much of you, but you could handle yourself.

“Listen, I get it, okay? I really do. I’m just the kid who stocks your shelves. You think you need to take care of me or whatever because you’re in charge of me. Well, you don’t. You don’t owe me anything, and you might just see me as a dumb kid but I’m not. I have it handled, thanks.”

Bakugou’s mouth fell open at your little speech, eyebrows coming together in something that looked suspiciously like anger.

“You think that’s how I see you? As just a kid?” He took a step closer, very nearly invading your space.

“Yeah. I mean, that’s why you hired me, isn’t it? You felt bad for me, trying to pay my way through college.”

“I hired you because I liked you better than all of the other idiots that applied for this job. I kept you around because you’re good at it, but not only that, you’re…” he blushed. “You’re funny. You always tell really good stories about the customers. You see them in ways that I don’t, that I can’t. I probably shouldn’t say this, and you can quit if you want because of it, but I think you’re beautiful. I spend half my time working just staring at you and hoping you won’t notice. I wouldn’t help you out with those guys because I think you can’t take care of yourself. I would help you because…it’s my job, okay? I’m supposed to protect you.”

There was something vulnerable about his last words that caught in your throat as he took a step even closer, close enough to reach out and touch you. He didn’t though, wouldn’t make another move. You weren’t scared to move though.

You took one of his rough hands in yours, stomach turning in knots and face growing warm.

“I didn’t think you saw me that way. I always figured you were looking because you didn’t like me, not because you liked me back,” you admitted.

“You…like me too?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I’m always staring at you? It’s because I think you’re beautiful too. I always wanted you to like me, and at some point it just turned into a different kind of like. I didn’t think I had a chance though. You barely like anybody at all. You don’t even like your best friend. Every time Izuku comes in you yell at him.” You giggle a little.

Bakugou frowns. “I yell at stupid Deku because you give him more attention than you give me. He’s banned, actually, but good luck getting that through his thick skull.”

“I thought you wanted us to get along! I figured it would be a good way to get you to like me if your friends liked me.”

“Yeah, well, Deku likes you a little too much.” Bakugou pouted.

You roll your eyes.

“You’re a little possessive, aren’t you?”

Bakugou grinned. Confident now in the knowledge that you liked him, he caged you in, body trapped between his arms and the counter you were pressing your back up against, the afternoon sunlight streaming down and highlighting your lips, which were suddenly very close to his. He leaned forward, tilting his head just so.

“Only possessive of the things that are mine.”

He closed the gap between you, giving you a honey sweet kiss right there in the empty convenience store, your personal safe haven. If somebody had asked you before starting this job whether you thought you would have a job you loved or a boss you kissed, your answer would have been an easy no. Things had changed a little since then.

You let yourself melt into the sensation of his kiss, fingers trailing up and down the muscle hiding beneath his black tank. You didn’t hold back, having waited too long to do this. By the time he pulled away, you were both a little breathless.

“Tonight, after we lock up, I’m taking you to dinner.”

“That didn’t sound like a request,” you tease.

He looked back at you, shooting you a feral grin. “It wasn’t.”

“And if I don’t go?” You raised a brow, unable to fight off the smile playing on your lips.

“Then you’ll have to pay for your own dinner.”

“Then I guess it’s a date.”

Needless to say, the date went well and you did a lot more making out in the stockroom than you would have predicted, but it was all worth it to have your little patch of heaven.

#mha #bnha #bakugou katsuki #agedup!bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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five-rivers · 3 years

Note

Oooh, I just saw the big about prompts!

“Blessings of rot and petrichor, my prince. May you have a home in the dark, and may the distant stars you reach for never fade.”

(Can be inspiration or an actual quote; do what ya want! :P)

The world ended on a Saturday, and it wasn’t Danny’s fault. Even if that Saturday happened to be his sixteenth birthday.

Okay, maybe that was a bit overdramatic. But, honestly, neither he nor anyone else he’d ever spoken to knew why or how things had turned out this way. Just that, one morning, reality shook, shuddered, and took a few steps to the left.

Humanity woke to green-streaked skies, a rainbow sun, and a lot more universe than they were used to. So did ghosts.

This was a problem. It might even be deemed the problem. Humans and ghosts didn’t exactly get along, and even when neither the ghosts nor the humans involved particularly wanted to fight, the new laws of nature and the few who did want to fight tended to ruin things for everyone else. (Cough, GIW, cough, Walker, cough.)

Hence the end of the world. Or, at least, most large-scale governments.

It could have been worse.

Amity Park stopped being a city that day, fragmented with Ghost Zone wilderness, landscape and spatial dimensions shattered in a spiderweb centered on Fentonworks, the portal a wellspring of wild power and unpredictable translocations. Danny had worried that the portal had been the cause of the whole thing, but Amity Park was far from the only place with similar issues (look at New York), and Danny eventually was able to accept that not every bad ghost-related thing that happened was on him.

(Probably.)

Honestly, once everything calmed down a bit, the new world was much more comfortable, physically and mentally, for Danny to live in. Which was weird, but made sense. The new world was split between human and ghost, just like him. It was everyone else who was uncomfortable, now.

Which, again, he felt guilty about, but, yeah. He couldn’t do anything about that, so feeling guilty was counterintuitive. Thank you, tiny Jazz in his head.

It was Saturday again. Time for the market fair.

“Mom and Dad are already out?” asked Danny, leaning over the banister.

“Yeah,” said Jazz, not looking up from her work transcribing an old ghost text into something more palatable to human eyes. She adjusted her green lenses to sit closer to her eyes. “An hour or two ago. Some guys from Chicago came in last night, apparently, and they wanted to get a head start.”

“Okay,” said Danny. “I’m going, too. You want anything?”

“Nope. I’d be going myself if I did,” said Jazz.

“You sure? Nothing for dinner?”

“Nope, I’m all set.”

“Cool,” said Danny, padding towards the door. He pulled his nice, dark coat, the one he’d gotten from Dora, off the hook, and shrugged into it, pulling up the hood.

“No shoes today?” asked Jazz, who had finally looked up.

“Eh,” said Danny. “I guess not. Doesn’t really feel like a shoe kind of day.” He flexed his toes.

“Well, avoid blackberries, then,” said Jazz.

“They should avoid me,” joked Danny. “Good luck with that book!”

“Thanks,” said Jazz, waving as Danny left.

Fentonworks was the same tall, brick-and-UFO building as it had always been, but now it stood alone on top of a small hill rising from a distinctly purple forest. The dark grass waved back and forth like the tentacles of a sea anemone. Bright green portal streaks, cracks in reality, stood out against the foliage, along with a few other buildings that had once belonged to the Fentons’ neighborhood. The sun was blue today, but Danny predicted it would be green by nightfall.

Danny walked down the path, the dirt on it declining to adhere to Danny’s feet. He hummed, quietly, a tune he half-remembered from before the apocalypse. He would not be walking all the way to the market fair, it was too far. His parents had taken the Speeder.

Danny, on the other hand, had a shortcut.

He reached one of the portal-fractures and passed through to a part of the forest where the trees whispered to one another. He took a moment to reorient himself, and continued to the next portal fracture.

As far as he knew, he was the only person who could reliably travel like this. He could have flown, but the market fair was busy, and he preferred to maintain his peaceful life. Phantom was still a celebrity in Amity Park. Even more so now, than before, as ghosts were no longer shot on sight.

Some ghosts even came to Amity Park’s market fair.

He walked through a wider-than-usual fracture which deposited him just outside the main fragment of Amity Park, near the erstwhile mall. The mall and its attached parking lot being the place the market fair took place.

It was busy. There were trucks stamped with the seal of Illinois parked on the edges, presumably belonging to the delegation from Chicago. There seemed to be more ghosts than usual as well, enough of them to make Danny shiver. Had they come from Chicago, or was it just a coincidence? If they had, that would be nice. Chicago had a lot of local influence, and was one of the places that was still trying to hold together something like a national government. If they accepted ghosts, others would follow more readily.

Peace between the two worlds in places other than Amity Park would be very nice.

Danny wandered down the paths of the market fair, not in any particular hurry to get to his parents’ booth. He was always more interested in the other things at the fair. Even if he rarely bought anything.

People seemed to be mostly moving in one direction. No, they were being drawn in one direction, with people tugging their companions onward. Danny, not having anything better to do, went with the flow.

Which led back to where the Chicago delegation was set up. Several people were standing in front of the trucks, arguing.

“How can you lose an entire bevy of ghosts?” demanded the man who appeared to be in charge.

The target of his ire merely shrugged.

“Can’t lose people like that, bub!” shouted someone from the crowd. There was a titter of laughter.

“Didn’t you have a big, fancy announcement, fed?”

More laughter.

“Yeah, what did you want to say?” This voice had an echo to it, and the the man looked extremely aggrieved.

Nevertheless, he took a deep breath. “We were led to believe,” he said, cheek jumping, “by certain ghosts, that there was a way to negotiate with the ghosts and... reverse this nonsense.”

Wow. So, Chicago got scammed. That could have repercussions. Danny hoped Amity Park wouldn’t see too much of the fallout.

“Wouldn’t you jump on any chance to stop this?” demanded the man in response to the jeers, gesturing at the sky and its pulsing bands of light.

“Tell us a better story!” shouted Ember, who had struck up a much more cordial relationship with Amity Park after the apocalypse. “One that we’ll remember!”

The man turned away, throwing his hands in the air. “Go find them!” he shouted, presumably to his subordinates.

The crowd broke up.

Danny was curious. It was one of his defining characteristics, both as a human and as a ghost. He followed one of the Chicagoans as they walked into the market turning this way and that.

“So,” he said, “what story was your boss fed?”

The woman jumped and looked down at him, disconcerted. (Yes, he was short. That wasn’t his fault. Except that it probably was, via the portal accident.)

The woman sighed. “Why not, it’ll be out before too long. We were told that the rightful king of ghosts was in hiding here, or something stupid like that. I don’t think they ever said he could fix the world, even. Only that he could be negotiated with.” She kicked the ground. “This is so stupid. There’s no ghost king. This is never going to get fixed.”

“It’s not so bad, is it?” asked Danny.

“How old even were you when it happened. Ten?” asked the woman.

“Excuse me, I was sixteen,” said Danny, crossing his arms.

“That’s cute,” said the woman, dragging her hand down her face. “You’re like thirteen, tops. Not nineteen. Jesus. Go bother someone else, kid.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Well, you aren’t wrong that there’s no ghost king. Last guy who called himself that got beaten up and locked in a sarcophagus forever.”

Then, just to mess with her, because she’d been rude, Danny turned invisible and left before she turned around.

Now... He should probably try to warn people about the scam artist ghosts. Or would they know from the other people watching?

Danny flicked back into visibility and continued perusing the various stalls, making small talk with the owners, bringing up the Chicagoans when it was appropriate.

He was passing by the covered entrance of the mall, one of the most crowded spots in the market fair, when his ghost sense went off, indicating an unfamiliar ghost was nearby. He scanned the crowd for the ghost. He didn’t have to look very hard. Strange ghosts tended to draw eyes, even in Amity Park.

Especially ones that looked like this. Inhumanly tall, cloaked, and moving smoothly. Glimpses under their hoods showed faces riddled with decay- or at least the appearance of decay. The three of them held instruments. Flute, drum, and summoning bell.

Danny stood to the side to let them pass. After all, they weren’t doing anything bad as far as he could see.

They did not. Instead, they stopped in front of Danny. Typical.

Then they started playing their instruments. And kneeling.

Aaaand the crowd was getting bigger. There was the person from Chicago, too. Could he escape without turning invisible with all this attention on him?

Probably not without showcasing his ghost powers. There were people who knew him in this crowd. Like Paulina. And Star.

“Um,” said Danny. “Hi?”

The leading ghost looked up as the sun’s light turned emerald green.

“Blessings of rot and petrichor, my prince. May you have a home in the dark, and may the distant stars you reach for never fade.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw the Chicagoan’s jaw drop.

“I think you might have the wrong guy,” said Danny. “I’m not anyone’s prince.”

The ghost grinned, sharp and white. “We came to give our blessings, my prince. You do not need to accept them for them to exist. We offer, also, our service and our hope in this new world that you are so suited for.”

Yeah. This was going to be a problem.

#danny phantom #ask #answer #prompt #prompt fill

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we-have-bangtan · 3 years

Text

BCO (Bulletproof Crime Org.)

____________________________________

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Theme: Mafia au, poly au, smut, gore

Warning: Swearing, smut, gore, Hobi and Jimin smooch.

VERY UN-EDITED

SO SO SO LONG

___________________________________

Chapter 1 || chapter 2 ||

___________________________________

______________________________________________________

She was tempted to smash the window with the tennis ball she had been given in order to stay entertained. She hadn’t realized how boring house arrest was in all these years, she vowed to never let any of her victims go through this.

She stood up, going to look out the window again, gang members littered the lawn, 2 to the right, 3 towards the corner of the building and 2 more directly across from the window. She’d have a tough time running away, not that she had any plan to do that.

She felt like Rapunzel in Mother Gothel’s castle, just that here she had 7 mother Gothels. She considered throwing the ball as hard as she could at the two men, one with pink hair and the other with black hair, to the right of the window; just to practice her aim. She decided against it, picking up an apple from the fruit basket Taehyung had delivered to her this morning, preferring to chuck an apple at them instead.

She leaned out of the window, aiming with one eye closed and threw it with all her might, the apple she had thrown meeting the head of the one with pink hair, “Heyyyy” the boy yelped in shock, looking all around to look for where the apple came from, he didn’t notice her in the window right behind him.

The boy with black hair seemed to convince the guy that he was imagining stuff. The two of them went back to their conversation as Yn smirked to herself, finally some entertainment, she thought as she grabbed the smaller basket on grapes, tossing one of them at the pink haired one again before quickly moving away from the window just as someone knocked on the door.

“Come in” she yelled, hurriedly moving away from the window as Jungkook peeked into the room before entering, “Supp” he asked, looking around her room, it was nice, comfortable and bright, it had a very comfortable bed and an arm chair that was a little squeaky, “Same ol’, bored, how long will I be under house arrest?” she asked making the youngest of the boys raise an eyebrow at her.

“You’ll be under house arrest till your injuries have healed, and the fuck you mean bored, I could literally see you throwing fruits at Yeonjun” he said, calling her out on her bullshit, “yah, what am I supposed to do when I’m bored” she defended, Jungkook walked over to the window as he spoke, “I didn’t say you had to stop, I actually came to join you” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the black haired fellow.

She quietly dragged a chair towards the window, taking the fruit basket with her as well, handing Jungkook an orange before taking a grape for herself. Jungkook aimed at the dude’s head with all the concentration that he had before throwing the fruit which met with the poor boy’s forehead.

“Aish, you blew my cover” Yn huffed as the guy looked up at them. “Ah, don’t worry about it, I can entertain you instead” he assured as he saw Soobin take Yeonjun away from the window to a place out of their range.

Soobin would have given anyone else a piece of his mind if they had done that to him but now that it was Jungkook and the boss lady, he would lose his life if he even looked at them wrongly. He’d complain about it to Jin hyung later he decided before going back to his conversation with Yeonjun.

Jungkook fell back on Yn’s bed as she too moved away from the window to join him, making sure not to put any pressure on her injuries. “I need clothes of my own don’t you think?” she said, looking down at the clothes one of the girls in the compound had lent her, they were nice but not exactly her style.

“Why, are the ones you have now not enough?” he question taking a moment to look over the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, “It’s not they aren’t enough, it’s just that they aren’t my style” she admitted as she toyed with the hem of her sleeve.

She and Jungkook had come to a mutually understand each other in the past three days. He’d come to the room to check up on her and somehow managed to stay back to entertain her for a while before he’d have to go again. He was a few months older than her and was constantly bugging her about it, he’d whine and groan when ever she didn’t use any honorifics but he had come to the understanding that she was not going to use honorifics with him or anyone in the group.

He was comforting and entertaining and a dumbass at times, but he was nice, he wasn’t the 7th leader of Bulletproof crime org, the biggest criminal organisation in Korea. He was Jungkook, a goofy 24 year old with an addiction to banana milk.

“We’ll see, I’ll as Namjoon hyung if we can go to the mall, do you have money?” he asked as he got up from his spot to strecth his body a little. “Ayaaa, my card is at the compound back home, I need to sneak in to get it” she huffed, already devicing an action plan on how she would get it back.

“You can just open another account you know, no need to go back home, how much was in it anyway?” he asked, worried for her safety although he knew she could handle herself.

She really didn’t have to risk her life to get a dumb credit card, plus, cash was better than car, it didn’t leave tracks anywhere. Jungkook looked at the pretty girl in front of him, she looked like she was contemplating whether to go or not. He didn’t want her to go, honestly. It was a waste, what if she got caught by her old gang, they’d behead her themselves. “20 million won, and I need to end them anyway, might as well get some work done when I go to get my card” she answered leaving Jungkook’s jaw hanging.

“20 MILLION WON??????” he exclaimed, “does the bank not get suspicious? how did you even get that much money?” he questioned, eyes wide with concern for the 23 year old. “It’s a bank run by a close friend who will be relieved if I show up there, but I cna’t go to the bank yet, I’m wanted” she explained, popping a grape in her mouth before continuing, “And i get money the same way you do, through deals and private missions” she answered.

“Do you have private clients?” he asked, he had never been a private assaissin nor had he ever met anyone who was a private assassin, he was curious about it. “Yeah, most of them are politicians or other gang leaders” she answered, “anyway when is the earliest that I can get out of here?” she questioned, successfully diverting the topic.

“Probably in a few days” he answered, being vague on purpose. “Be more specific” she demanded making him chuckle, “Aish, so demanding” he teased, before continuing, “The day after tomorrow, if all your injuries heal properly” he finished, heading to the door,

“ Ynnnn holding Jungkook us again I see” Hobi playfully scolded as he brought a bag of snacks to the table, giving her a bag of shrimp crackers that she had asked for when he had told her that he was going to town for business and asked if she needed anything. “Thank you!” she said, grabbing the packet before ripping it apart, “Aish, I didn’t know you liked them that much or I would have bought more” Hobi said watching as the young assassin devoured the crackers two at a time. “You guys literally gave me fruits, which sane person would have fruit as a snack” she accused as Jungkook left the room quietly so he didn’t have the patience for her whining right now.

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2 DAYS LATER

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“I’m free, I’m free, I’m free” Yn yelled as she went into Namjoon’s office, Namjoon just groaned at how noisy she was before asking her to take a seat. “Do you have somewhere to be immediately?” he asked her as the rest of the boys filed in to join the discussion.

“No where important, but I need to get my money” she answered, Namjoon nodded, Jungkook had told him about it earlier. “Will you do that before or after your test? and when do you want to take your test?” he asked making her look at him with a raised eyebrow, “can I finish the test now and I can leave for a short while to get my shit done before I come back” she asked, he nodded.

A gunshot echoed through the compund as Yn moved out of the way, Jimin had fired a wax bullet at her, it wasn’t meant to hit her. Just to warn her. She quickly climbed onto the chair as Namjoon yelled the rules, she could run anywhere in the mansion at the count of three, but the moment she was hit with the bullet she was out, 30 men were out there to catch her, she had an hour and if she passed the test she was eligible to join the gang.

It was basically a game of tag except that it was 1 against 30 and she didn’t have any weapons either, “Do I get a gun too?” she asked, scanning the room frantically for a way out. “Sure, if you want but it will have only 5 bullets, anyone who gets hit cannot hunt you anymore” Namjoon said, laying out the conditions out for her, she nodded and was quickly tossed a revolver, she checked her ammo before tucking the gun away in her waist band. “Do I get to hurt anyone?” she asked again, gaining a nod from Namjoon.

She held her breath, hearing multiple guns being loaded, which way to go? should she make for the door? no. Taehyung was guarding it, what about the table? no again, Namjoon was staring at her with a revolver in hand, casually spinning it like it was a toy. She never thought a man with a revolver, ready to shoot her would look that sexyy.

She looked left and right, Jungkook and Yoongi were on one side waiting for Namjoon’s count and it was the same case for Jimin and Jin. “1!” Namjoon hollered as she looked all around the room, she should be prepared, “2!” he counted as her eyes landed on the window, her mouth curved into a smirk, she found her escape.

“3!” Namjoon yelled as she leaped out off the chair as high as she could, landing directly in front of the window before jumping over, “GET HER!!!!!!!” Hobi yelled as he barged out of the office chasing after her.

Yn’s thigh stung as she landed in the floor below the office, it looked like a sort of library with rows and rows of floor to ceiling shelves full of books, she quickly jamp atop a shelf, laying herself flat aginst it as she dragged herself by her hands to the end of the row noticing Beomgyu not very far away from her. She silently crept down, using the shelves as a ladder to climb down from the top, she clenched her teeth when a few books fell from the shelf she was holding on to.

Beomgyu turned around to see what the sound was, he looked down at the fallen books with confusion, ‘must have been the wind’ he thought with a shrug turning around when a sharp pain went through his head before blackness enveloped him.

‘Heh, weak boi” Yn thought as she rubbed her knuckles, despite how effective temple punches were, they were a bitch when it came to the pain to her knuckeles. Just as she was going to relax from this dumb game she heard Hobi’s voice outside. He was loudly talking to Jimin who was being just as loud.

She climed the shelves when she heard them some closer and almost lost her shit when she saw them enter the library, she didn’t want to hurt them or shoot them, yet. She peeped down at them watching as Hoseok went through the library never once looking up before he stop right under the shelf she was on.

“Yah, Hobi hyung, what do yout think of her?” Jimin asked as he leaned against the shelf, they didn’t seem to sense her presence in the room. “She’s nice, she’ll fit in well with us” Hobi admitted as he moved closer to him, pushing Jimin against the shelf, Yn almost popped an imaginary boner when she saw them roughly kiss each other. She wanted to look away, she really did, but she couldn’t tae her eyes away from the two of them.

She made the mistake of trying to get more comfortable, caying the shelf to creak making the two lovers move away from each other, she quickly grabbed her gun, moving as silently as she could as Hobi and Jimin looked around to find her, “Ynnieee, I know your here” Hobi sang as he walked into the row a little away from her, “click, aim, shoot” she whispered to herself as her hands followed the actions watching with glee as Hobi yelped attracting Jimin’s attention.

Yn quickly jumped out of the window again, climing up the water pipe to Namjoon’s office only to see Yoongi relaxing in Namjjon’s boss chair, a glass of bourbon in front of him, she hung by the window sill, trying her hardest not to be seen as but she felt someone grab onto her leg, pulling her down. She quickly kicked the hand off, looking down to see Jimin with a mischevious grin on his face,

“Yah, Jimin-ah let go!!” she yelled as she struggled to maintain her grip on the window sill, Yoongi heard her yell and grinned as he walked towards the window , he looked down at her with a sadistic grin on his face, he looked like Scar from the Lion ing for a moment there, with his hands on Yn’s, ready to push her off just like how Scar had done to Mufasa.

“Okayyy super villain, pull me up and I’ll give you like 2 million won” she bribed, kicking at JImin’s hands aggressively, “Make that 4 million and you have a deal” he countered, “how about 3 million instead?” she bargained, giving him an almost blinding grin when he pulled her up.

“You better keep that bargain up and don’t kill anyone” he said as he dusted his hands off before retaking his seat.”I swear I will! and I can’t promise that I won’t kill anyone” Yn yelled as she casually strolled out of the office only to come face to face with Taehyung, he gave her a naughty grin, “Gotcha” he said, grabbing her arm, she quickly jabbed at his neck and the unsuspecting fellow fell to the ground with a thud.

“I told you not to kill anyone” Yoongi said, peeking from a crack in the door. “He’s not dead” she assured as she made for the staircase, crawling up so no one can spot her. She checked the time in the fancy Rolex that she had stolen from an unconcious Tae, 30 minutes had passed, 30 more to go.

She snuck up the stairs when she saw Yeonjun on the other end of the sprawling corridor, quickly preparing her gun she set her aim, steadying her hand before she pulled the trigger, the gunshot was loud and echoed through the compund as the bullet hit Yeonjun in the side, he didn’t seem surprised infact, he tured towards her with a smirk before gesturing for her to look up.

She tilted her neck to look above her to see seventeen men staring down at her, their guns aimed straight at her, she held her breath as she jamp down thw stairs right as they all fired their guns, she almost got hit more than once but she was quick enough to get out of the way before they could touch her.

She huffed as she ran down the stairs, scolding herself for not hitting the gym as regularly as she could. She could feel how unfit she was, she was out of breath and panting, she was hungry from all the running around and she realized just how much of her stamina had gone down in the last few days.

She huffed and cursed as she ran downstairs, but hurriedly crept away when she heard footsteps, she cursed to herself as she hid, holding her gun out incase she might need it. She took a deep breath, waiting for the person to pass her when pain shot through her arm, Jungkook stood next to her, his grip tight on her elbow causing her great pain. She quickly jabbed at his stomach making him let go of her before she grabbed his gun from his pocket, he seemed to be unprepared to catch her explaining why his gun was still in the hollister.

She pointed her own gun at Jungkook’s head, a grin taking over her tired and sweaty face, Jungkook almost fell for her in that instand, seeing her hold a gun to his head, looking fucking gorgeous with at smile on her face. He steped closer, pressing his head against the nozzle of the gun, Yn instinctively took a step bac only for her back to hit the wall when a sudden yell made them junp away from each other.

“You’re supposed to shoot each other, not make out you know” Jin yelled looking down at them from the top of the stairs, he wasn’t gonna lie, he had felt thirsty when he had seen the two of them in that position. Yn pointed Jungkook’s gun at Seokjin and pulled the trigger only for Jin to duck away fromt he bullet, “Stay fucking still” Yn growled as she took aim again.

Jungkook almost went feral at the sound Yn made. Her gun still pressed to his head. The next shot rang out, hitting Jin in the chest and Jin dramatically fell to the ground holding his heart, “What a damsel,” Yn scoffed as she kicked Jungkook away from her before shooting him with his own gun.

Jungkook wasn’t even offended that he had lost the game, he happily hopped up the stairs to join Jin hyung who was going to the kitchen to make a snack for himself, the bright orange stains on their clothes, a batch of both honor and shame.

Yn looked around the mansion when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned around to see Soobin standing behind her with an unimpressed look on his face, “Supp” she said with a wave, “everyone is looking for you, Jimin hyung is convinced that you ran away” he said, rushing her to Namjoon’s mansion.

The boys were quiet surprised to see Yn being shoved into the office, her face puffy and her hair sticking out in every way, thry thought she had ran away. “Where were you,we’ve been lookig for you everywhere” Namjoon said as Seokjin walked towards her to take the revolvers from her, tossing the purple one to Jungkook and tucking the other one in his own holister.

“Taking a nap” she answered cheekily as Namjoon got behind his desk, “Did you hurt yourself anywhere?” he asked as he pulled out a box from one of the drawers, she shook her head, craning her neck to be able to see what was in the box.

“Good, because you have a mission” Namjoon said, pulling out a sleek dagger from the box, its handle had a snake design, making it look like the snake was coiling itself around the handle, the sharp blade, glinting in the light.

“Yahh, so pretty” Yn said as she reached for the dagger only for Namjoon to pull it back, “not for you, I’m supposed to take a blood oath of loyalty” he said, as he took a hold of her wrist, “Don’t cut too deep” she said as he placed the blade on her thumb, he pushed down on it causing it to bleed before letting a few drop trickle down her thumb onto the paper with the oath written on it, right next to her name.

“Congratulations Yn, you are now a member of the Bulletproof crime organisation, I’ll give you a week to settle all matters outside the organisation.” Namjoon said, putting the paper away.

“Can I still continue with my private assassinations?” she asked, sucking on her bleeding thumb, “Yes, on the condition that you give 10% of whatever you earn to the mafia and we have a say in which missions you accept” Yoongi said as he too got up to go have dinner.

“As long as you don’t push too much, we’re good.” she said, before following him to the dining room.

She needed to eat up, she had work to do tomorrow.

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A/n: Next chapter will be up whenever I find time to write. <3

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