#Anyway I should been sleeping right now...

[with-my-calamitous-love]

burnt toast, sunday / i wanna teach you how forever feels

katsuki bakugou x reader

the morning after a fight with katsuki. for the yail series ❄️

inspired by all of the girls you loved before

bakugou sat up, groaning a bit as his back ached. he looks around, hit with his surroundings. he slept on the couch, in the midst of the living room torn apart from arguing.

he knew you were probably still pissed at him. worst of all, he couldn't even fully recall why you two had been arguing the night before. he only remembered that it was really, really bad, and you had ended up locking him out of the bedroom. just the thought of not sleeping next to you hurt blonde’s chest.

he lets out a sigh as he got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. when he sits up, he sees you walk in.

he cringes slightly, seeing your puffy red eyes. you had been crying all night, probably.

“…hey.” you say, softly.

he grunts in response, his words unable to reach his throat.

its a sunday, a quiet morning to contrast a loud, abrasive saturday night. the two of you resolve to make coffee silently, only speaking when you need a spoon he’s standing next to or when he needs you to move so he can grab the sugar.

the silence felt incredibly awkward. the two of you just stood there, quietly making your own cups of coffee. the only noise in the room was the sound of the coffeemaker brewing. bakugou’s thoughts were a mess. he couldn’t believe the two of you had gotten in such a big fight, and he wasn't even entirely sure why it happened. but he knew he was probably at fault, he was the one with the explosive personality after all.

he curses at himself quietly when he realizes he grabbed two pieces of bread. he does that normally- one for you, and one for him. but right now, you’re pissed at each other. he’s a little worried that making two pieces of toast will be seen as a violent act of aggression.

he moves to grab plates, too absent minded to notice that the toast is now burning. you take it out for him. thats when he noticed you’re still wearing his shirt, even though you’re mad.

he picks up his phone and scrolls, trying to distract himself. thats when he remembers what the fight was about.

whoever it was that got ahold of katsuki bakugou’s dating history was really obsessed or really, really bored, maybe both. for whatever reason, his fans were now talking about all his previous partners, the good and the bad. and, because you’re dating a celebrity, they just have to question your worthiness to be dating the handsome and strong dynamight.

he feels his anger flare up as he doom-scrolls some more. it pisses him off, thinking about how people would so mindlessly say things. it pisses him off more that its getting to you. don’t you know that he loves you?

he has yet to do anything about it, to address his dating life and who he’s with now. truthfully, katsuki doesn’t feel like he should have to. his pr team already works overtime for his asshole-self, anyway.

he’s so distracted by his own thoughts, he fails to notice the way his elbow knocks over your mug, sending it shattering on the floor. maybe its the silence, but you honestly jump a little when it happens.

both you simply stand there at first, blinking. did he do that on purpose? no, he wouldn’t break his own mugs.

maybe he just wanted your attention.

nonetheless, you wave it off with a soft “its okay” before kneeling down and carefully cleaning up the shards. he’s silent as he gets down in front of you, helping you clean the mess he made.

he wants to tell you its okay, and that he’ll take care of it. he wants to tell you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. but this is the closest he’s physically been to you since the argument, and he wants to relish in it for a moment.

“are you still mad at me?”

he almost flinches when he hears your meek voice. why would he be mad at you?

“..what are you talking about, babe?” he sighs, his voice gruff.

he is mad, but not at you. mostly at himself for not seeing how the recent speculations about him had been bothering you.

“i don’t wanna repeat myself. i just… i don’t know. i know you don’t want me to care about what everyone else is saying, but, i do.” you admit, still on the floor in front of him. at this point, you’ve both forgotten about the coffee and the shards.

he can see how upset you are, and it makes his chest tighten. “yeah, well… i don’t want those shitty extras getting to you. even if what they’re saying is the farthest thing from the damn truth.”

he so desperately wants you to know that he loves you. that when he’s with you, he doesn’t think of all the times he woke up to someone else, feeling alone. he doesn’t think of late night arguments that left him feel empty. when he looks into your eyes, he’s reminded of everything he wants to protect.

but you don’t see that as clearly as he does. “i guess i just… wonder if you agree with them. you never say anything to address those rumours, about your exes. and its not your fault, i get you don’t want to get involved, but, still…”

bakugou’s heart twinges as you bring up those accusations. he hates that you wonder such things, that you wonder if he agrees with those rumours or not. he wants to reassure you that you are the one he loves, the only one he loves. but he knows you wouldn't believe him right now, especially since he's been acting so shitty towards you lately.

“damn it, dumbass, i just want you to know that i love you. not any of those other bitches.”

“i don’t like when you call them that, katsuki.” you correct him. he nods, though both of you should be used to his sailor tongue by now.

“they’re people you’ve loved before… and thats okay. sometimes i just wonder if you love me more. i know its stupid.” you sigh.

he finally gets the courage to hold your hand, his calluses gentle against your skin. “..i feel i shouldn’t have to say it, i guess. in my head, you’re the only damn person in the world who matters.”

“maybe i’m just insecure.” you chuckle, self deprecatingly. you’re both tired of the arguing, now. “you’re #1, you’re gorgeous… and i’m me.”

he looks at you like you’re a complete idiot for that.

he hated hearing you say those things about yourself like it was a bad thing, that you were just you.

“just you? you really think it’s a bad thing to be you, dumbass?”

he pulls you in tighter, wanting you to really hear what he says.

“you’re amazing, you're incredible. there’s no one else I want to be with. I don't want anyone else, just you. you’re way too good for me, [y/n], in more ways i can count.”

“…you really mean that?”

he scoffs, a beautiful smile on his face. “yeah, i mean it. i love you.”

you give him that smile he loves, the one that made him fall so deeply in love with you all those years ago. “thats all you had to say, kats.”

your past and his are parallel lines. he isn’t sure how he got so lucky. how, by some cosmic miracle, the starts aligned so he could intertwine with you. you’re all he needs.

he hugs you deep, burying his face into your neck. he loves how you smell, how smooth your skin is. theres bot much proof, but he sees enough in you. he feels enough when he holds you, his entire world in his arms.

“i’m sorry.” he says, quietly for only you to hear. “you’re everything to me. i’m in love with you.”

your heart swells, ignoring the burnt toast and spilled coffee. you’re wearing his shirt, and he’s keeping his word. thats enough to make you melt, hugging him back, arms thrown around his muscular back. “i’m sorry too. i shouldn’t have doubted you. i love you too.”

he pulls back slightly to kiss you, making sure you’re in front of him and that this is real. for once, he let’s go of all of his fears and his ghosts. you’re his best friend, the love of his life and every beautiful thing he loves. he hears it in the silence, on his way home, and in your voice.

“if anything, i think i’m grateful for everyone you’ve loved before.” you chuckle, face close to his. his blonde eyebrows knit in confusion. “what do you mean, babe?”

“because the people you love make who you are, even if you’ve only loved them for a moment.” you say, squeezing his hand. “all those dead-end streets led you to me.”

he pauses, strange look on his face when he realizes you’re right. all that fake love, the teenage heartbreak and pains he’s been through- it’s made him the man you love. all those breakups, those unsaid goodbyes, they’ve led him hear.

he huffs, and then smiles, pressing his forehead to yours.

“i wouldn’t change a damn thing, then.” he says. “it all led me to you, dumbass.”

you stroke his cheek affectionately, pressing a kiss to his temple. his eyes close when you do that, relaxing into your touch. everyone that he knew brought him hear. and now, he gets to know what forever feels like.

“and in the end, it doesn’t matter who loved you before.” you conclude. “cause i love you more.”

he almost laughs at how cliché it is, resigning to press kisses all over your face. “i love you more, i’m not arguing on that.” he says, holding you in his lap. he’s tough, and explosive, and “too good for all that clingy couple bullshit”. at least, thats what he lets the world believe.

you’re his, and he’s yours. he’s so god damn thankful for everyone you’ve loved before. ‘cause now he gets to love you 10x more.

[do-you-have-a-flag]

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[userautumn]

He knows he shouldn't, but Buck texts Tommy anyway. Once Jee is covered in chocolate and cookie crumbs, once she's drifting off to sleep against his arm with Moana playing softly in the background, he pulls up their text thread with his unoccupied hand and clicks on the message bar. He ignores the grey and blue messages that sit above, messages—warm, kind, and loving—that speak to a happier time and instead chooses to type out a quick message.

Jee misses you.

He sends off the text and then pockets his phone. Slips out of Jee's sticky grasp so he can start cleaning the kitchen before it's time to put her to bed. He's so deep in thought that he almost misses the way his phone vibrates in his pocket.

What did she say?

"Uncle Tommy come play?"

Tommy doesn't respond for a while, long enough that Buck gets to imagine his face, pinched and in pain, with tears in his eyes. Or maybe Tommy's just fine. Maybe Buck is the one pinched and in pain, emotional and so damn sick of crying all the time.

I'm sorry.

Sorry to her or sorry to me?

It's not fair. Buck knows it's not as soon as he sends it, but Tommy replies seconds later anyway.

Sorry to both of you.

Buck stares at the text until his screen goes blank, trying to decide which of the emotions he's currently drowning in that he wants to feel. He settles on anger.

If you were that sorry, you wouldn't have dumped me three days after our six month anniversary.

Never mind.

This was dumb.

I shouldn't have bothered.

Sorry to have bothered you.

Bye.

Goodbye, Evan.

Buck's heart lurches into his throat at the sight of his name on screen, his eyes widening and his breath quickening. An embarrassing rush of hope stirs deep in his chest before he can clamp down on it and it feels like breathing for the first time in weeks. Another text comes through immediately after.

Sorry. It's a habit. I'm so sorry. Goodnight, Buck. Please tell Jee-Yun that I hope to see her soon.

Buck stares for a long moment, then lets out a laugh, thin and mirthless, as humiliation—so much fucking humiliation—crawls up his gut, filling his mouth with bile and shame. Right. He should have known. Did know, probably, somewhere deep down in his gut. But Evan Buckley has always been a dreamer, a believer in the impossible. Even and especially when it costs him.

I'm not going to lie to her.

Tommy doesn't answer, and this time, Buck knows he won't. He slides his phone back into his pocket and stares down at the countertop. His hands are braced on the flat, smooth surface, the fingers of one hand slick with soapy water. He doesn't cry, but it's a damn near close thing. Hell, with the pain currently slicing and carving its way through his chest, he could probably scream with it, but he won't. He won't scare Jee and he won't wake the neighbors, he'll just... deal with it. Like he has been dealing with it, like he always deals with it.

Buck takes a deep breath. Then he grabs the dishcloth he'd thrown aside and walks back over to the sink. Dips the rag in hot, soapy water and wrings it out before returning to wipe down the counters once more. Whatever. All of this is just... whatever. Tommy breaks his heart—he lets Tommy break his heart—for the second time in a row and it's just fucking whatever. Right now, the kitchen needs to be cleaned and Jee-Yun needs to be woken up so she can brush her teeth before he tucks her in, and life does what it does best: it goes on.

He can cry about Tommy Kinard later. It's not like he gets much sleep these nights anyway.

[kanasbinwriting]

Hello! Could you possibly write a Sol x gn reader where the reader calls Sol and tells him to come inside and cuddle with them because they've been tired mentally and emotionally and just want to be held? And that they actually know that he's been sneaking in their apartment but they don't really care and actually they find it a little cute

Also I'm sorry if this sounds awkward, I don't know how to words things properly 😅

SOL X READER

Thank you so much for your request ^^ I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope I did an okay job

Fun fact, I'm actually working on making a Sol figure out of clay 💪

Anyway, enjoy!!

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It was dark outside; nothing could be heard but the wind rustling through the leaves and the occasional hum of cars driving by. You felt tired, but no matter how hard you tried to fall asleep, nothing worked—the stress consuming you whole.

You sat up on your bed, trying some breathing exercises you saw online to calm your racing mind, but to no success. Your mind was occupied with all sorts of things that caused you a great immense of stress and you couldn't help but feel emotionally drained as a result. Oh, to have someone hold you close right now. You let out a small whine as you rubbed your eyes. You glanced over at your phone charging on the bedside table, thinking to yourself. Sol, wouldn't mind if you called him, right? You picked up your phone and checked the time. Sol should be on his way right now. But waiting for him would be a bit awkward, you doubted that he'd even go near your window if he saw that you were still awake. You looked to your bedside table once more, where a glass of orange juice stood untouched, waiting for you to take a sip. You could just drink it and let the sleeping pills do their work, or at least that's what you think that he'd put in your drink to ensure you'd be sound asleep around the time he arrived for his nightly visits.

With a deep sigh, you decided to not drug yourself tonight. Maybe you could just give him a call. It wouldn't come off as weird, right? In all defence, he was the one breaking into your apartment every night. If anyone was weird then it was definitely him and not you for calling him at this ungodly hour. You tapped on his contact and raised your phone to your ear, calling him. No answer. Was he asleep? No way. He wouldn't be. You looked at your phone in disbelief and tried it again after a few seconds. You stood up from your bed and made your way toward the window when he finally picked up.

"H-Hello..?" He greeted you in a hushed tone.

You let out a chuckle.

"Are you serious?" You asked playfully.

"Huh?" Sol replied in complete confusion. "What do you mean...?" his tone shifted nervously, but before he could question further, you cut him off with a smug grin.

"Look up." Now looking down at him from your open window.

He froze and went completely silent, not daring to move a single muscle.

"W-what—"

You hung up and leaned further out the window.

"Why, hello there!" You called, winking unbeknownst to him.

He slowly raised his head to look at you and the look on his face was priceless. You gave him a knowing smile, waiting for him to say something. "I can explain...!" He stammered, raising his hands in defence.

"Can you now?" You settled your chin in your hand, your elbow propped up on your windowsill.

"I-I was... just going for a walk" You looked at him with a bored expression on your face

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." He nodded trying to look confident. He might've convinced you if it weren't for his all-black outfit and mask. With a sigh, you decided to end the senseless interrogation.

"Just come inside."

"What...?!" He exclaimed loudly in bewilderment.

"You... want me to come inside?"

"That's what I said, yes."

You walked away from your window and sat on your bed. It took Sol a few seconds to process what had just happened. He pinched his cheek to confirm he wasn't dreaming. Upon realising that it was, in fact, real, he quickly but carefully climbed to your apartment. As he slipped in through your window, making sure to close the window, he now stood before you, his face flushed crimson red. You let out a yawn and made yourself comfortable on your bed to which his breath slightly stutters."Can we cuddle?"

"What...?" he stammered, looking taken aback. "I said, can we cuddle?" You repeated, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment before muttering a quiet "Fuck it..." before walking toward you. He awkwardly tried to make himself comfortable next to you, keeping his arms close to himself, too nervous to touch you. His whole body tensed when you, without warning, wrapped your arms around him snuggling your head against his neck. Inhaling his scent, you let out a contented sigh. He lets you wrap your limbs around him, sensing that there's something wrong. He began to ease up in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you and began to gently stroke your head.

"Thank you..." You whispered quietly against his neck and he felt a shudder run down his spine. "No problem..." He whispered back, as a lovesick expression appeared on his face. Not paying him any mind you closed your eyes and slowly began to drift off to sleep in his his embrace.

[soli-nepenthe]

Searing Touch (rewrite/divergent)

characters: Sylus/fem!MC (though can also be read as GN. 2nd per. POV)

genre: angst/comfort/slightest hints of fluff/vague ptsd?

warnings: angst, mild use of profanity, injury, slight religious reference./ minor allusion to No Way Out story.

word count: ~ 2600!

author's note: This is just my self-indulgent take on how the story could have gone as I felt MC and the banter in the original was disjointed and disappointing. After Sylus's sacrifice, he deserved better treatment than what he got. Hopefully, I amended some of those faults with this attempt. I hope you all enjoy reading!

Somewhere in the Northern District, Linkon City.

Sylus’s Apartment.

It was 3:00 AM by the time you decided to give up on sleep.

What should have been an infernally tedious Monday night had haphazardly turned sideways.

In theory, it had been a simple surveillance and retrieval mission – nothing outside of your hunter’s repertoire. According to your team’s intel, it was a clean smuggling setup with two main parties…. 

Hours later, you sat in the dimly lit living room of one of Sylus’s secure hideouts, still fretting over the small details of how you mishandled the evening. Sleep evaded you now, as it sometimes did, whenever you felt overwhelmed. If the mission wasn’t an outright failure–it was due to his interference. And the reason you could still mull over it—well, that was also because of him. 

Closing your eyes, you recalled the terrible impressions shard by broken shard – the oppressiveness of the white smoke from the stunning device as it blotted out your surroundings to the staccato of gunfire from different directions, and then the weight of his body rolling over yours as he shielded you from further harm. 

You knew the reasons why he waved off your concern of going to the hospital, but still, you worried for him. Without question, he had gambled his life for yours. And you felt miserable and thankful all at the same time. Of course, the life of a hunter straddled the border of life and death on any given day, but this was the first time a routine mission without Wanderers would have cost you greatly.

You recognized that your thoughts were starting to take a dangerous turn….

There was no comfort in a “what if”.

Rising from the couch, you went to look for where he might be.

All three bedrooms turned out to be finely furnished but devoid of his presence. 

The sound of running water behind a closed door soon drew your attention. Getting no response from knocking, you ventured to turn the knob anyway.

He had his back to you when you entered, the steam curling away to reveal bloodied rags and gauze littered about him as he blindly struggled to clean his wounds. 

Another anvil settled heavily on your heart at the desperate sight.

You blinked back the stinging sensation building behind your eyes and clawing up your throat, trying to find that sangfroid you had always prided yourself on. Turning to find a light switch on the wall, you pressed it, where it automatically raised the blinds to the only window in the bathroom.

Cool, silvery moonlight poured in, bathing half of his naked torso, his pale body now emulating the appearance of sculpted marble. The only difference, of course, were the scars and open wounds–your own personal Saint Sebastian.

“Sylus…let me help you.”

“Ah, kitten. I…I had a feeling…. you would come around.”

His voice sounded strained though you could tell he was trying to be jovial, perhaps for your benefit. 

The lights above the vanity flared brighter once you found the right switch.

“Tell me, what can I do to help?”

He fumbled with the gauze in his hand, dropping the roll into the sink. 

“Think….ugh…you can help me…take out this shrapnel?”

Out of habit, you nodded, knowing that he couldn’t possibly make out your gesture of assent. Taking the tweezers carefully from his hand, you guided him to sit on the edge of the tub while you made a quick assessment of the items you would need from the open first aid box.

Your knowledge of wound care was rudimentary at best, but you decided that you would do all that you could if it would ease the deep furrow of his brow or erase the grimace he tried to disguise as a cavalier smile. 

After rinsing your hands and prepping the tweezers, you resolved to keep in mind Zayne’s advice regarding situations like these— a level head will serve you better; try to always be calm.

“Stay as still as you can. And move only when I tell you to. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Very well.” he rasped, uncharacteristically obedient. “Wish I could…appreciate the sight of you as my personal nurse, heh.”

Apart from his pained but steady breaths, removing the pieces of shrapnel and cleaning and bandaging the wounds was slow, silent work. You half-expected him to playfully chide you for being so grave and meticulous in your ministrations, but sensing the seriousness of your intent, he did nothing to break the fragile stillness that encompassed you both. 

You only hoped that your efforts would help him self-heal faster. 

It was almost the same that time too…

Your hands had almost faltered on the last wound—a particularly nasty one–but despite how nervous you felt in suturing the gash, he encouraged you instead of pushing you away. Though you shared a small history together from varied run-ins these past few months, no one could deny that you both had been through quite a lot together. The vulnerability he showed you now was worlds apart from before. 

As you finished cleaning up, you tried to regain some sense of equanimity back, if only to string together a few commonplace words.

“All done. You…should be fine. I hope.” 

Without meaning to, you stumbled backwards in the direction of the sink, but he reached for you with his good arm before your back could hit it. He pulled you to the safety of his warm body. 

“Kitten, you’re shaking.”

He was looking down at you, his expression twisted in concern for you. 

“I’m sorry. Maybe…maybe things are starting to catch up to me now.”

“Come with me then.”

You weren’t sure if it was just muscle memory or if his sight had returned to normal, but he led you with little difficulty to his bedroom. He sat you on his bed. 

“I’ll get you some water.”

“Are your eyes better now?”

“I can make out shapes in the shadows, more or less. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

As you waited, you took note of the twinkling city lights from his bedroom window where they suffused the room with a weak, ghostly light. The moon was hidden now by dark wisps of cloud. From up here, it was hard to believe that such a beautiful view could hide a sinister web of greed and lawlessness…

Once he returned, you took long sips of water from an ornate glass meant to hold liquor. 

When you were done, you set it on the nightstand next to the bed.

“How are you feeling?” The kindness in his voice had tears welling up in your eyes.

That honest question alone had always been and would always be your undoing, no matter who asked it.

“Ahem, well…less thirsty,” he sat close to you, extending his good arm to rub small but comforting circles on your back, “but mostly repentant. And thankful, of course.”

You rubbed away the tears that had annoyingly come in full force now, despite your wish to hold back the deluge of emotions.

“I’ve told you this already,” he reached out with his wounded hand to catch your tears, “...don’t ever feel ashamed to be yourself in front of me. Cry all you want. You need to.”

“I don’t know…how….how can you be so…?”

You paused, failing to hold in another sob. 

You understood his point about catharsis. But logically, it made no sense to you how the person meant to comfort was now being comforted. There were so many things that you had wanted to say, things that he needed to hear from you, but something inside held you captive from uttering a word.

Unsure of why, he seemed to you like a bright flame amidst the shadowy dark. A lifeline you could hold on to. For a long moment, you pressed a hand against the solidity and heat of his form before tracking a path from his throat all the way down the palimpsest of his body. Each barely-visible scar that marred his skin was a memory. Your fingers traced over the faint lines and uneven contours of wounds that didn’t smoothly heal. No doubt there was pain and fear for each trial he lived through…and he faced each one alone, hadn’t he? 

He did nothing to impede your movements, his even breathing hitching a little as your hand drifted up, finding the surge of blood fluttering rapidly under your palm. There was no scar here. No marker that indicated this place where you had hurt him once, albeit unwillingly. 

Funny thing.

Your vision blurred with hot tears as you clung to him, finally allowing yourself to have a good long cry.

He was enduringly patient with you.

“I’m…I’m  so sorry, Sylus.”

The solemnity of your name falling from his lips emboldened you to say more. 

“I truly am grateful. Not just for tonight. But to have you in my life. I mean it.”

You felt his body tense slightly against yours before pulling you closer in a half-embrace, a moan-like sigh escaping his lips. He settled his chin atop your head, breathing in your scent.

His voice was above a hushed whisper when he decided to break the silence.

“Rest now. I’ll stay for as long as you need.” 

He moved the both of you near the headboard, entwining your fingers with his as you settled into a more comfortable position against him. In the wakeful hours where insomnia would normally be a torment for you–nothing of the kind happened this time around. A mysterious feeling of peace seemed to quell all your worries and doubts when he held you in the shelter of his embrace. 

You were safe. You were both safe. And more importantly, alive.

In no time at all, you drifted into the blessing of a dreamless sleep.

Somewhere in the Northern District. Linkon City. 

Tuesday. 1:15 PM.

The sensation of something golden and warm brushed against your eyelids, stirring you from sleep. A chink of sunlight had managed to slip through the now drawn curtains. You awoke to find your companion had long since left the bed, but not without propping your head with a pillow and covering you with a knitted blanket that smelled faintly of vanilla. Checking your hunter’s watch, you noted the time and the voicemails that awaited your attention–they were all from Captain Jenna. 

Fuck. Of course. Headquarters would want a full report concerning all the details of the botched transaction. Your vigilance had faltered. Pride before the fall, indeed. You raked a hand through your disheveled hair.

With a heavy sigh, you steeled yourself for the unpleasant conversations that would follow.

Unlucky missions like last night, though few and far between, truthfully made you question whether your purpose had been misplaced. And yet, there was no room to entertain self-doubt, not when you had duties to attend to. Once you tied up these loose ends, you would check in with Sylus, and not merely for an update on the smuggled goods that he assured you his people would take care of.

There was something heartening in finding him preparing a late breakfast –more like brunch– for the two of you in the open kitchen, seemingly back to his old self. He was humming a pleasant melody when you walked in. You inwardly prayed he had gotten some form of rest.

“Morning…er, Good afternoon, I mean.” 

He slowly turned to face you, his lips crooking into an easy smile. A real one. You much preferred him like this. 

“I take it that you’re okay now?” 

The lilt in your voice was hopeful as you followed him to the café-style breakfast nook where he plated Belgian-style waffles, an assortment of fruit and cream, honey and jam, along with a pot of steaming coffee and an assortment of teas. The gold trimming on the china glinted in a welcoming way as it caught the afternoon light.

“As good as new, thanks to you.”

He even turned around so that you could appraise him, his motions free from any semblance of stiffness or pain.

“I’m so glad.” 

His garnet eyes twinkled with mirth as they beheld yours.

“Actually, I have.… something for you–” he gestured to a black suitcase on the coffee table in the living room, “it should help you neatly wrap up your investigation. I hope.”

It dawned on you yet again how much you owed him for his help. More than likely Luke and Kieran were also involved; you would have to make it up to them as well. As if reading your mind, he stifled the apology that was on your lips.

“If anything, I bear some of the blame for not being honest the moment I contacted you…”

“What do you mean?” 

Your hands grasped the back of the chair in a small attempt to brace yourself.

“Last night was an ambush. My sources confirmed that. Unfortunately, misinformation can have its consequences. And I was worried…so worried that I couldn’t let other people deal with it.”

The notion that you were fed tampered information or that you were made to believe that the assignment was nothing more than standard fare as far as protocore smuggling was concerned had not even crossed your mind. As the leader of Onychinus, his information network had to be extensive, and as such, it was easier for him to ascertain traps….including the one meant for the Hunter’s Association last night.

His unexpected presence was far from being the nuisance you deemed it was the moment you heard the husky notes of his voice through your earpiece. An illicit deal in the cover of night in the hinterland of Linkon’s borders (yet across the river from the N109 zone’s jurisdiction) was beneath his notice. And yet, he came, for you.

Just for you.

Your hands gripped the back of your chair harder, your gaze locked on his own.

“I’m selfish. I’d rather risk exposing my weaknesses when I protect you than see you injured.”

“Sylus…”

“It’s not enough to make amends, but will you stay a little longer, and share a meal with me before you go?”

He offered you his hand in earnest supplication. 

Somehow gathering enough composure to walk up to him, you cradled his hand in your smaller ones. 

“Of course. I can make some time for you.” 

He bent forward to press a soft kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger there before reluctantly pulling away. 

“Wonderful. Shall we?”

While the food he prepared smelled sweet and enticing, making your stomach gnaw in actual hunger, all you could do was stare at him, quietly reflecting on the significance of all the small details. It wasn’t surprising when he finally noted the intensity of your steady gaze, elegantly setting down his cup of coffee on the table. Maybe he did have some kind of otherworldly presentient ability in that protocore eye of his, because at the moment you thought it, he extended his right hand across the table. 

Without hesitating, you delicately weaved your fingers with his. Despite the desire to be mindful of his bandages, he flexed his fingers about yours, as if testing the give of your hand against his. There was no feeling equal to it; all you knew was that your heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time. 

Normally, you would have considered your current actions as reckless and unprofessional, but in your view, trading away this rare fragment of time with him would have felt more than just criminal. 

Whatever the fallout might be, you would handle it in some way or another, like you always did.

For now, all that mattered was the present, and the things that passed between you as you enjoyed each other’s company on a not-so-everyday Tuesday afternoon.

END.

author's final notes:

There are probably a thousand directions this could have gone, but I hope no one minds the heavy dose of angst and comfort combination. This is just how it seemed to unfold for me as I wrote this. It's just a little sad that MC treats him better as a cat butler in the event than in this story....

Once again, to reiterate, this was very self-indulgent take.

Anyway, thank you so very much for reading! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed it! Have a lovely day!

(NB: * Please don't feed my work into AI. )

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 14

Summary: You avoid the tension between you and Fred, you end up sobbing again, and make a decision that you're not sure if it was a mistake.

CW: crying, kissing, yelling

WC: 1.8k

A/N: a shortie but it's the moment you all have been waiting for! somewhat

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous| Next | Navi

You really didn’t mean to stay this many days at the burrow. But you surprisingly didn’t miss your bed all that much. And you were having fun.

Angelina had gone home before lunch, Lee was staying for one more day, and Harry was staying for the rest of break as per usual.

You felt bad for him.

You had shared the same loss, but you felt worse for Harry than anyone else. He was the one to see Cedric die. Then he had to go and battle a dark wizard, and bring the corpse back with him.

Remembering that he was younger than you made it worse, dealing with all that at fourteen obviously is going to take awhile to recover from.

It seemed that the both of you tried not to dwell too much on it, not wanting to think about it, and using this time at the Weasleys as a way to distract your thoughts from that event.

Harry didn’t want to remind you of what happened and you didn’t want to remind Harry of what happened. You still asked how one another were doing and responded to each other in small group conversations at the table. But really no more than that.

Anyways, you’re trying not to dwell on it. This a vacation, you should be happy.

You did your best to act normal around Fred, trying to act as if you haven’t cried in his arms twice, and slept in his bed twice, sharing the bed one of those times.

The hardest thing to ignore was that feeling in your stomach any time he was near to you.

You're not sure when it started, nor how long you’ve been ignoring it. Maybe months? That’s quite terrifying, you won’t think about it too much.

The day was simple. You ate breakfast, watched both of the twins along with Lee and Harry play Quidditch, the twins already using the beaters bats you got them. Lee offered to switch places with you, seeing if you’d like to play a round with everyone. You refused, terrified you wouldn’t be able to dodge a ball in time or fall off your broom and end up with a broken arm.

You all went inside eventually, talked, watched TV, ate lunch, talked some more, watched TV some more, watched everyone play Quidditch some more, ate dinner, talked more.

Nothing very exciting happened most of the day, except when Lee was able to hit George right in the nose with a scone from the other side of the table.

Also, you were actually able to make conversation with the twins without getting annoyed every other minute. That was new.

Other than that, nothing super important happened for most of the day.

Once you went upstairs to change, you realized that you underestimated how many days you’d stay when you packed your bag.

You were out of fresh pajama shirts, you weren’t in the mood to wear the same shirt you’ve chosen to sleep in the past two nights.

It wasn’t ideal, but you just decided to keep on the shirt you had on all day and sleep in that, changing into a new pair of pajama pants.

Leaving the room and passing the twins room, you noticed a light on and the door was cracked open, it’s usually shut.

Peaking your head in carefully, you saw Fred standing and hunched over on his desk, focused as he wrote something on a piece of paper. Probably a new idea.

Pushing the door open a bit more, it squeaked and you cringed at the sound. Fred’s head slowly looked to where you were. He smiled.

“Will you be joining me in my bed again tonight?” He teased, a sarcastic suggestive tone in this voice.

“You got lucky last night, don’t push it Weasley.” You stepped fully into the room, crossing your arms. Fred noticed and looked down at your shirt, his eyebrows creasing inwards for a moment.

“Is that the same shirt you’ve worn today?”

“Oh, yeah. I ran out of sleep shirts. This will do for now.” You shrugged, moving a hand to play with the hem of your shirt.

Fred didn’t say anything, he went over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, the wrong drawer. You got a glimpse of his boxers and immediately looked away. He slammed in shut with panic in his eyes, then clearing his throat as he opened the one underneath.

He pulled out an old shirt, it had a faded logo of some band he liked when he was prepubescent.

“Here, you can use this for the night.” He held out the shirt for you, you took it with a hesitant hand.

Looking down at it and rubbing the finger over the fabric, you bit your cheek. Feeling guilty all of sudden, about so much.

“Fred, why are you being so nice to me?” The words tumbled quickly out of your mouth, sounding painful.

“What?”

“I’ve been so horrible to you, all these years I've been so bitter and mean. Yet, you just let me in. You never held an actual grudge against me. I don’t get it.” You looked up at him, laying the folded shirt on the dresser next to you.

“Y/N, I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He stepped closer to you. He was so close. So close.

“Why can't you just be mad at me? Why can't you hate me the way I’ve hated you.” You whined, shoving him slightly, praying you would finally scare him away, make him despise you. 

Fred held your arms once you tried to push him away again, rubbing your thumbs over your wrists, and weakly saying your name.

“I could never hate you.” Fred spoke softly, you let out a breath of frustration and dropped your hands from his light grasp, wishing he would just tell the truth. He already was. 

“I don’t know why. Maybe it’s ‘cause I understood, I am annoying and I am a bit of an arsehole sometimes with my pranks.” He chuckled and you let out a breathy laugh.

“I just don’t know Y/N, I just can’t hate you.”

“Godric, why are you doing this to me Fred?” You groaned, dropping your head to his chest, leaning against him. 

“I don’t know. I can’t help it.” Fred shook his head as he gently placed his hands on the sides of your face, holding it up to his gaze. You clenched your teeth together.

Can't help what? Can’t help what, Fred? You wanted to push so bad, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Scared to know his response.

His eyes were glazed over, and he took in a shaky breath. You stared at his soft lips, the sides of lips curled down.

He looked so fucking beautiful. You hated him for it.

And you didn't know why you did it. All you knew was that in that moment, while staring into his infuriating eyes and glancing down at his lips that were curled into a frown, you wanted to kiss him. 

Air rushed out of his lungs as you did. It was strange, you expected anger, definitely regret, but all you felt was satisfaction.

Fred took a second before he pushed back into the kiss, his hands still cupping your face. Yours ran through his hair.

That yearning, the strange feeling of waiting you both held in your bodies for so long finally felt relieved as your lips opened and closed around each other.

You’d slept in his bed last night, now you were practically making out with him. What the hell were you doing?

Fred was the first to pull away, his chest heaving and swollen lips. Fred didn’t look regret-filled either but he also didn’t look ecstatic or happy. 

He looked…unsure, which was exactly how you felt. 

His eyes darted all along your face, taking in your features, analyzing them, trying to figure out what your puzzling expression was. 

Though you knew what you wanted to do, you wanted to kiss him again. You leaned in then stopped yourself, pushing yourself completely away from him.

“Oh no. No, no, no.” You mumbled repeatedly to yourself, stress taking over your face as you pressed the balls of your palms against your eyes. “What am I doing?”

Fred whispered your name, disappointed at your sudden denial. You stared at him with puffy eyes, the lamp showed the shine of a tear that fell down his face. The guilt was eating at you now.

“Fred…we can’t. I can’t….I just. Fuck.” You rubbed your hands down your face, nearly running out the room and down the steps. Fred followed suit but stopped at the doorway of his room. Watching you dart away once again, you didn’t stop moving until you were outside.

Fred stepped back and rubbed a hand against his cheek, then using two fingers to wipe his watering eyes.

You sat on the wooden bench outside, your back against the table connected to it. Hunched over with your head in your hands.

With no idea of what you were doing, what you just did, and why you ran out on Fred, you moved your hands from your head to your face.

You were a complete idiot. A complete and utter asshole for what you were doing. You’ve begun to mess with Fred’s head as much as he’s been messing with yours.

You wouldn’t blame him if he held a forever grudge against you for this, you’d understand if he began to resent you.

The door leading into the kitchen creaked open. You brought your head up slowly, even though you really didn’t want to. Knowing who it would be.

“Hey.” Fred had his hands tucked into his pockets, a painfully awkward look on his face. He couldn’t meet your eyes. “You okay?”

“I don’t think I deserve to be asked that.” You let out a breathy laugh. Fred puffed out his bottom lip and shrugged. Moving to sit down next to you on the bench.

The two of you sat in silence, you sat up fully, resting your hand in your lap and fiddling your fingers.

“I didn’t mean to run away like that. I just wasn’t sure what to do.”

“I get it, there was a lot happening in one moment.” Fred lied, he honestly didn’t get it. He wondered why you couldn’t just come to your senses with your feelings.

“It was rude of me though. I’m just not sure about anything really.” You sighed.

Fred rested his hand over yours in a sympathetic way.

“How about we just stay here, as friends? It’d be really nice to call you my friend after all these years.” He chuckled. “I’m just glad we’re not at each other's throats anymore.”

“Yeah. Yeah we can be friends.” You nodded slightly, voice hoarse when the words came out.

“Okay.” A weak grin took over his face.

“Okay.”

It’s hard to stay as friends when you’ve already kissed him.

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[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

WHISPERED VOWS MASTERLIST here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Reader Needs To Speak Up

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUt

You stare at the screen of your computer and yawn. You haven't gotten a lot of sleep the past few nights. Yoongi has been gone again at night more frequently, opting to sleep in his studio in small spurts in between working. He tells you that he's so close to finishing the album, but you'll believe it when you see it. As of right now, you don't believe him at all. This has now been the third time he told you that. You have been keeping yourself busy trying to make the decision of what cake you want to try at your tasting next week. You get ten flavors to sample, and you are taking it very seriously. Your guest won't remember your vows after the wedding but they will remember if the cake was bad. Compared to everything else, this is the one thing you were looking forward to.

“What are feelings on fondant?” You ask Seungkwan. He looks up at you from across the room and makes a face. “Buttercream it is.”

“What does Yoongi want?” he asks.

“He doesn't care for cake, so he'll leave it up to me,” you tell him with a sigh. “Just like everything else. At least he is coming with me to sample them. So, I'll take it as a win.”

“You should talk to him about it,” he says, typing away on his computer. “If it's getting to be too much, you need to say something.”

“No, I took responsibility to plan everything. I can't go back on my word,” you tell him as you lean back and close your eyes. “I got your sister's email. The picture of the bouquet she sent is beautiful.”

“Oh, I'm glad,” he said with a small smile. “What did you go with?”

“Dark burgundy delilahs and white roses. Seriously, Seungkwan, thank you. I really appreciate it,” you say. “Anyway, I'm hungry. I'm going to hit the vending machine downstairs on the studio level. Did you want anything?”

“We have vending machines on our floor too,” Seungkwan tells you with a knowing look.

“I'm not up to anything. They have Oreos down there,” you say, defending yourself. “All we have are protein bars.”

“I guess I'll take a pack as well,” he relents.

Grabbing your card from your bag, you leave your office and take the elevator downstairs. You weren't lying….technically. The studio level does indeed have better snacks in the vending machine, but you can't help it if you have to walk by Yoongi's studio to get to it. Your chances of actually running into him were slim, but hey, you'll take the chance.

Leaving the elevator, you round the corner past Hobi's studio and then down past Yoongi's studio to get to the coveted snack machine. Sliding your card, you press the correct number for your cookies, the machine roars to life and pushes your cookies out. Bending down, you take them from the bottom of the machine and repeat. Only this time, the Oreos do not drop once you press the correct buttons. They get stuck between the coil holding them and the small black divider to its side.

“No,” you say into the empty hallway. You give the button another press and another, but still nothing happens. You gave the machine a big whack this time, but the only thing that you managed to do was hurt your hand. “Ouch!” You exclaim and shake your hand.

“Need help,” a voice says, startling you. You didn't even hear a door open.

Shit. Kai is smiling at you when you look to see who came to your rescue. He looks just as handsome as you remember, but this is not the best place to be seen with him. Not when you can look past him and see your fiancée's door. Fucking Orero's. They were too good to resist. You need to lay off the junk food. You should have gone with the protein bars.

“Um, sure. Thanks,” you say and back away from the vending machine.

Kai presses both his hands at the top of the vending machine and gently rocks it back and forth. It probably takes less than ten seconds before the sweet snack hits the bottom of the machine. He reaches down and retrieves them for you. Standing back up, he smiles and hands them to you.

“Thanks,” you say again, taking them from him and then proceed to take a few extra steps away from him.

“Y/N, right?” He asks you and leans on the machine he just manhandled. “Lisa's friend. We met at Jimin's party.”

“Yeah, that's me,” you say, standing there awkwardly in front of him. “I should…”

“You know it's a shame that our night was cut short at that party. I had a good time talking to you,” he comments, and you can hear the elevator ding. “Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day tonight?”

“No,” you say quietly. Is that today? You have completely forgotten.

“Is your boyfriend working tonight? He works here, right? Your boyfriend is a producer in the company? I think I have seen around….he glares a lot.”

“Fiancée and part owner actually,” Jimin says, walking up to the two of you. He slings his arm around his friend's shoulder. “I think Y/N needs to head back to work.” Jimin widens his eyes and jerks his head quickly. You stare at him strangely but decide to just go with it.

“Yeah, umm, very busy,” you say as Jimin still motions for you to go.

“Oh,” Kai said, looking amused. “So busy you had to have a cookie break? You don't seem that busy to me.”

“Yup, she just needs sugar every now and then, or she gets angry. I think she …realllyyy….needs to go. She should also…take the stairs. Now.” Jimin says.

Your eyes widen. You finally get it. Yoongi was probably on his way down. You turn quickly, running down the hall and heading for the door hiding the stairwell. You hear Kai say something to Jimin, but you were too busy running for your life to catch what it was. You make a sound of defeat when you open the door. Do you want to take four flights of stairs in heels? No. Do you want Yoongi to catch you with Kai? Absolutely not. You'll take the chance of busting your ass in your heels because it was better than the alternative.

Huffing and puffing, you make it back into your office and throw the cookies at Seungkwan, hitting him squarely in the chest. Who then made a disapproving sound when they hit him. You throw yourself in your chair and wipe your forehead with your hand. Man, you're out of shape.

“What happened?” he asks, opening the snack you got him and shoves one in his mouth.

“Kai happened,” you say and don't elaborate. You just hope that Yoongi doesn't find out.

Did anything interesting happen today?

It should have been an innocent text from Yoongi, but you knew better. He knew that you must have talked to Kai earlier, but you don't know who told him. Would Jimin go through all that trouble to help you and then rat you out? Probably. Not that there was anything to tell because you did nothing wrong. You bite your lip and think about how you want to answer this. You weigh your options. You can be brat about this, or you can fess up and be honest. Your fingers tap the side of your phone in thought. This is the fifth night in a row that he wouldn't be home, and your eyes drift to that red trunk that has yet to be discovered in your closet. You chose brat.

I got me and Seungkwan Oreos. You responded by typing back.

That all?

Yup, I wanted to save my energy for tonight. You write back.

Getting out of bed, you go to your closet and drop to your knees in front of that red chest. You take off the blanket and hoodies that you threw on top of it, placing everything to the side. You're going to take Lisa's advice and send Yoongi a quick picture. Of what exactly….you're not quite sure yet. Opening the lid, your face still burns with embarrassment, looking at everything that Lisa bought for you. You don’t even know where to start.

What's tonight? he types back.

You reach inside and grab what you think she called a personal massager. A deep purple device was one of the more innocent looking items in the box. Your eyes next land on the leather handcuffs, and you quickly snatch them as well before you could talk yourself out of it. Taking a breath, you put everything back before walking back over to the bed. Chucking your shirt off over your head, leaving your top half completely exposed. You lie down on your stomach, moving the toy close to your body and squish your boobs together between your arms. Positioning your device in what you hope is just the right angle to make you look enticing you snap a picture using the timer. You look at the result, and you are actually kind of impressed. Not bad.

Solo play, you answer with the accompanied picture and hit send.

Your palms become sweaty, your hands shake, and your eyes become large as you stare at your phone screen. What did you do? Oh, no! What did you do? Can you unsend a text? Please, you just want to take it back. Your hands start to flail around in the air by your head in panic. Your heart stops as the message goes from delivered to read.

“Oh shit,” you whisper to yourself and grab your shirt to cover yourself.

You watch as the dreaded dots appear on the screen, showing that he was responding. Your mouth goes dry, and suddenly, they disappear, but nothing comes through. You wait and wait, but again, nothing comes through. He's not going to respond. You don't know if you should be relieved or embarrassed that he probably didn't like it. Maybe Lisa doesn't know what she is talking about after all. You thought maybe you could salvage Valentines, but now you feel just plain stupid and a little unwanted. It kind of hurt. Tossing your phone on the bed, you lazily roll yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom to shower. Maybe you can wash away your idioticness.

When you open the bathroom door after your shower, the steam rolls out behind you. You tighten the towel that is wrapped around your freshly cleaned body as you head back to the bedroom. Stepping over the threshold into said room, you freeze. Yoongi is sitting on the edge of the bed. In his hands was that deep purple toy. His eyes look up at you through the strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead and into his eyes. Your pulse quickens. You guess Lisa does, in fact, know what she is talking about. You watch him reach over and grab the discarded cuffs. He dangles them off one of his slim fingers and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Solo play, huh?” he asks, resting both his elbows on his knees.

“I didn't think that you would come,” you tell him, holding your towel tighter like it was going to hide you somehow. Hide away the embarrassment of your actions.

Yoongi stands up from the bed after he discards the gifts on the bed and approaches you slowly. Once he reaches you, he slides his hand down your bare arm. The excess water in your hair starts to drip down your exposed skin, sending a chill through you. You noticeably shiver, and Yoongi pulls you closer to him. Bending his head, he captures your lips with his own, giving you a soft, teasing kiss.

“Do you still want it to be solo, or can I join?” he whispers against your lips.

You slip your hands to the hem of his shirt and pull up. Yoongi lifts his arms, helping you bring it over his head and taking it off the rest of the way by himself. Pulling his head down to you, you press your mouth against his. Yoongi moves his hands to your wet tangled hair, gripping your head tightly, keeping you where you were.

“Were you thinking of me?” he asks, pulling away slightly and pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yoongi,” you whimper and try to look away, but the hold on your head doesn't let you.

“What? You can't send me pictures like that and be embarrassed, baby,” he tells you as he kisses a path from your cheek to your neck. “You don't think that I haven't touched myself thinking about you? Hmmm, because I have…and I do.”

Something in you snaps, and you grab him, kissing him hard as you think about him alone in his studio, stroking himself. He groans into your mouth, holding you close against his body. You place your hands on his chest and back him up to the bed. The both of you falling onto it once the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, mouths still connected. Pulling away, you crawl off of him and move to the center of the bed. Yoongi twists around trying to grab for you, but you stay out of his reach, and you make him follow you up the bed.

You gently push him back against the pillows when he reaches out for you again, and you climb onto his lap. Leaning down, you press your mouth to his again. His hands travel to the top of your twisted towel, and he gently pulls it apart, giving him the treat of your naked body with small water droplets now dripping down onto the both of you. He relaxes underneath you and takes in every inch of you as his hands run up over the top of your thighs and land on your hips.

You reach over and grab the black leather cuffs that are laid beside you. You toy with them and undo the velcro with a loud shkriiiiip. He smirks at you and wets his lips with his tongue. One hand goes to your face. lovingly strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“You want me to cuff you to the bed, baby?” he questions, his voice deep with desire. You smile shyly back at him and shake your head. His eyes narrow at you for a moment before laughing silently. Yoongi places his hands above his head, resting them on the pillow and raises an eyebrow at you. He's daring you to do it. “It's okay.”

You lean over him and wrap his wrist in the leather before hooking the other side through the dark wooden slats of the headboard. Repeating the same treatment to the other wrist, he willing lies there at your mercy. You want to keep here so he can't leave you for days, almost weeks at a time like he always does. God, you miss him, and you don't know how much longer you can last like this. The loneliness at night has almost become unbearable. The silence was almost too loud.

Taking his mouth with yours again, your tongues dance together naturally as your mouths open for one another. He groans in your mouth as you ground your hips onto his pelvis. Your lips pull away with a smack, and you slither your way down his body as you maintain eye contact with him. You can see that his breathing has picked up by the way his chest moves up and down. If that wasn't a sure sign of him liking this, the straining in his sweatpants definitely did.

Settling yourself on the bed between his legs, you run your hand over his clothed erection. Yoongi bucks his hips up into your touch and lets out a harsh, shuddering breath. Reaching for the top of his sweats, you curl your fingers around the fabric and pull them over his hips. You stop in surprise when you realize that he didn't have anyone underneath. Your eyes meet his, and he smirks and gives a slight shrug as best as he can, given his current position.

Pulling them the rest of the way off, you grab his hardness and bring your mouth down to him. Giving his tip one small lick, you pull away. You sit back on your heels and stare at him with an innocent smile before crawling back up his body. You rest your weight on your hands as you hover your face over his.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” you say quietly, and his eyes widen in recognition.

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly, but you shut him up with a kiss.

“I forgot too, until….Kai reminded me,” you tell him with a knowing look, and he narrows his eyes.

“I bet he fucking did,” he growls.”He was so fucking smug talking to Jimin about you.”

“Oh,” you say and drop your hips onto his hardness that was lying against his flat stomach. You languidly move your wet core back and forth along it. Letting the motion stimulate your clit.

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly as his eyes rolled back slightly. “Fuck, keep going.”

“Nothing happened,” you tell him as you lift your hips off of him, denying him your touch. “I barely even said two words to him.”

“I trust you,” he says, taking a deep breath

“Do you?” You ask him seriously.

“With my whole heart,” he says, lifting his head for a kiss. You lean down and press your mouth to his once again before moving your kiss to his neck. Yoongi's head falls back onto the pillow. “Baby, can we talk about this later. My cock is so hard it hurts.”

Sitting up you reach between your legs, you grab his cock and run the head along your folds, coating him with your natural slickness before slowly sinking onto him. Yoongi pushes his tongue against the side of cheek as he watches you take all of him with rapt attention. You lean forward with your hands on his chest and press your forehead against his as you start to slowly move up and down on him. You close your eyes and savor the feeling of him inside of you as you take your time. The feeling of fullness replacing the ache of emptiness and loneliness that has plagued you for months now. The hot flame within you that has dulled finally roared back to life.

Yoongi plants his feet flat on the bed and thrusts his hips up against you. His hard dick spears you over and over again as you fall forward from the force of his hips hitting you and bury your face into his neck. You let out a strangled moan as he takes control.

“Undo me, Y/N,” his raspy voice commands. “I need to get my mouth on you.”

You reach up blindly and pull the velcro off one of the cuffs. With his wrist successfully freed, he hurriedly grabs the opposite side and undos it himself. Sitting up, he throws them to the floor and gently guides you off him. He grabs your waist and turns you so you can lie down in his previously occupied spot before he grabs your knees, spreading you open for him.

Lying on his stomach, Yoongi presses a kiss to your throbbing clit. His fingers run up and down your opening gathering your wetness before sinking them into you. You sigh and wiggle your hips in response. Sticking his tongue out he traces small circles around you as his fingers start a slow rhythm pumping into you.

“Do you want me to use that?” he asks, jerking his head to the deep purple toy.

“NO!” You exclaim and cover your face.

Yoongi moves up up your body, hovering over you as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you. He crooks them at the perfect angle that has you gasping and grabbing at his shoulders. Yoongi leans down and kisses your cheek before pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. You press your head further into the pillow underneath you with a whimper.

“Let me use it. Please?” he asked, tongue licking a wet stripe underneath your jaw. You bite your lip as he shoves his fingers into you at a rapid pace that is just as deep.

“Fuck,” you gasp out. “Okay, okay. Use it.”

Yoongi pulls his fingers out of you quickly and grabs onto the massager. His hand fumbles with it for a second before he finds the button to turn it on. The low hum of the messenger and the dark look in his eyes make your mouth go dry. Placing his lips on yours, he trails the deep purple toy down between your breast over your stomach before reaching his final destination. A whine escapes your lips as the vibration hits your sensitive spot.

“Shhh,” he says softly. “I got you. Stop me if it's too much.”

Yoongi moves down the bed, resting on his knees before sinking his fingers back into you. Holding the toy against you, his fingers start pumping into you at a furious pace. Tapping that innermost spongy spot repeatedly has your wetness dripping out of you with every push and pull of his fingers. Your hands reach up and grab on to the wooden slats of the headboard and squeeze tightly. Your hips start to gyrate, and your breathing picks up, making your chest heave up and down.

“God, I miss seeing you like this,” Yoongi growls at you.

“I….I….,” you struggle with words as your hips jump. Your inner walls rhythmically pulse around his fingers, slicking them even more. “STOP!” You manage to sob out. He throws the toy down on the bed in an instant and looks at you with wide eyes. “You…I….I want you.”

“I'm here,” he said, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I am right here. Are you sure you want more?”

“Please, I need it,” you whimper.

Yoongi lines himself up to your entrance and plunges himself all the way. Your back arches as you bring your arm around his shoulders and pull him down to you. Your chests press together, his face buried in your neck, legs wrapped around his waist as his hips thump repeatedly against your own wildly. You feel delirious as his lips attach to your neck sucking hard enough to mark you. You sink your hand into his hair, tugging him off your neck.

“Got to show him your mine, baby. He acts like he can have you. Can he have you? ” he growls in your ear, and you shake your head, unable to speak. His hips pick up in tempo as the headboard starts to rhythmically bang against the wall loudly. “I'm not going to last much longer,” he pants. “You are going to come again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you pant.

Reaching out, he grabs the discarded toy. Turning it back on, he sneaks it between your bodies to touch it to your clit. You both moan loudly as it makes contact as the vibrations rush through both of you. You feel yourself clench around his hardened length as you cry out, your wetness coating his length. Yoongi hums deeply in satisfaction at the feeling of your pulsating core that surrounds him. His own hips stutter and lose rhythm, toy falling out of his hand as you slap it away when it becomes too much. Slamming his mouth against yours, his hips give you one more hard thrust before he stiffens and comes deep inside of you.

Yoongi drops his head onto your shoulder, panting. You slowly graze your nails up and down his back as you stare up at the ceiling. You can feel his lips lightly connect with the front of your shoulder in what you think is a loving gesture. A tear falls out of the corner of your eye, and you quickly wipe it away. The roaring fire within you minutes ago has gone back to that dull flame. It's a flame that barely flickers and fights to stay lit. You're scared.

Fuck.

Tagged Readers

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia

[mmmmmmmmmmmmsoup]

Yandere Mouthwashing

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yandere curly x reader x yandere Jimmy

Can we talk about if these two teamed up as yandere's??? I feel like this is such an obvious pairing, but can't find anyone talking about it.

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

firstly, I would think Curly would be the one to develop a crush on you first, but Jimmy is the one to confront you first

he would mainly do it out of jealousy of Curly, so he could at least get one thing Curly doesn't have in life

Jimmy isn't much of a stalker, he mainly hangs around you, making sure you know he's staring at you

he likes making you uncomfortable, watching your squirm brings a smile to his face, and with him having a higher rank than you makes it easy to mess with you

of course, he isn't always right by your side, he does sneak into your chambers every now and then and steals a pair of your panties

pantie sniffer 100%

Curly is a little different, he has a big o'l crush on you but gives you space so he doesn't scare you away

big stalker type

will watch you through the cameras that are throughout the ship

he sneaks into your chambers while your sleeping, gently caressing your cheek

he will steal clothes of yours but not in a pervy way, he just really likes your smell

not to say he doesn't pleasure himself with the clothing...

he knows what he's doing is wrong, and he has so much guilt about it, but he just loves you so much

After you've been constantly harassed by Jimmy, you finally go to Curly and tell him the situation

Curly tells you he will handle it

but in reality, he doesn't

I mean what kind of person would he be to tell someone to stop the actions he himself is guilty of?

Jimmy knowing Curly also has a crush on you, uses this and somehow convinces Curly that they should work together and share you

you will have no peace

your hurt how Curly lied to you and even more pissed off with Jimmy's smug smile

but now both of them won't leave you alone

Curly when no other staff are near is on you, sniffing your hair, hugging you, caressing your skin

a very touched based kind of love

Jimmy, out of the two, is the one that keeps you in line.

if you dare try to escape from their grasp or tell anyone of your situation, Jimmy is not above physically harming you

Curly will often try to calm Jimmy down and confidence him that you just need a time-out

time-out's are when they lock you into their shared chamber for hours on end often without food or social interaction

Jimmy is possessive, while Curly is obsessive

again Curly knows this is wrong, but he just can't let you go or hurt his best friend

they definitely pushed their beds together to make one big bed and sleep with you squished between them

you wouldn't think so, but Jimmy loves to hand-feed you

your just so useless in his eyes

anyways, that's all for now, I'm sure more head canons will pop up later on

[notiddygothgf]

14. Taxi

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Make sure Sleeping Beauty over there doesn't puke all over that pretty dress of yours, yeah?  ❞

★ c.w.: smut. drinking (NOT BETA'd. olivia will be my beta-er.) (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: guess who dropped calculussssss!!!! yeah so it didnt wind up working out. i'm like going crazy rn and this story is the only thing keeping me sane. anyway! enjoy this! i had such a blast writing it. most importantly, keep on commenting! you guys keep me goin.

★ w.c: .6.8k

shameless ; chapter index

IT WAS LATE TUESDAY EVENING. Makima was throwing another Newbie welcome party. Your husband had refused to come, saying something about a meeting he had, something about a schedule conflict before kissing your cheek and walking out. You were standing in the lobby of the reception hall, black cocktail dress on, lips painted red, makeup compact open in your palm while you scrutinized your reflection. 

It was 7 PM, the party had started an hour ago, and still, no call from Aki. You told yourself you hadn’t gotten dressed up for him, but as you caught a glimpse of the red against your skin, you wondered just a bit what he’d think when he saw you tonight. A trace of a smile slipped across your lips as you brushed a finger along the edge of your liner, thinking about his sharp, quiet gaze, the way he always looked like he was sizing up a storm in his head.

The thought made you shift on your heels, scanning the room. Seven on the dot, and still no Aki. Strange.

You closed the compact, slipping it into your clutch just as a familiar figure sidled up beside you, grinning.

“Well, now this is something,” Himeno teased, her eyes dancing as she took in your appearance. “You’ve actually arrived before your shadow.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at her. “Where is he, anyway?”

Himeno gave a nonchalant shrug, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. “Think you just missed him, actually. Stepped out with Denji not too long ago,” she hummed, her eyes glinting with a playful spark. “Should be back any minute. Why? Missing your boyfriend already?”

So he is here early. Typical.

A smile played on your lips as you leaned against the bar. “Not my boyfriend,” you corrected, though the denial felt softer than you intended. “But… maybe I am.”

Himeno smirked, nudging you with her elbow. “Oh, I see how it is. All dolled up just for him, huh?”

You laughed again, brushing off the comment. “I dressed up for the event. For everyone. Not for him.”

“Right,” Himeno replied, raising her eyebrows with an exaggerated nod. “You just happened to pick out the dress that’ll make Aki’s brain short-circuit when he sees it.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you refused to let her get to you. “He’ll have to behave,” you said, though you weren’t convinced by the words.

The grand hall was alive with a soft golden glow, tall windows adorned with silk drapes framing the nighttime skyline, and chandeliers casting a warm, intimate light over everything below. Tables lined the walls, each decorated with carefully arranged flowers, while guests mingled in clusters, laughter and conversation creating a steady, harmonious hum. There was an elegance to the space that made you feel like you'd stepped into a scene far removed from the typical demands of the job—almost like you were someone else, someone not bound by secrets or silent glances.

Himeno looped her arm through yours as the two of you wandered further inside, catching up on the usual things—how busy work had been, what new, funny things you’d overheard around the office.

Her eyes sparkled knowingly as she looked at you, amused, before an acquaintance of hers called her over. With an apologetic grin, she squeezed your shoulder, murmuring, “I’ll be back. Try not to get too distracted while I’m gone.”

Left on your own, you wandered among the elegantly dressed guests, your heart racing just a bit faster than usual. You could feel some eyes turning your way—polite, indifferent, but still, enough to make you wonder if they knew something you didn’t want them to. Did they sense the quickening of your pulse, the way you searched the crowd almost instinctively? Or worse, could they somehow know about Aki, and the way your thoughts always seemed to find their way back to him?

With Himeno gone, you found yourself adrift, wandering slowly around the room, unsure of where to settle. The crowd was thick with people, faces both familiar and unfamiliar, all talking, laughing, glasses of champagne in hand. As you moved through the clusters of guests, you could feel it—that prickling sensation at the back of your neck. Glances were being cast your way, fleeting and sideways, some lingering a beat too long before they shifted back to their conversations. You tried to convince yourself it was just because of the dress, or maybe because you weren't blending in as easily as you thought, but the feeling lingered.

The more eyes you caught, the harder it was to ignore the creeping suspicion that there was something more behind them. Did they know? You kept your expression serene, calm, but beneath that calm, questions twisted and tangled. Maybe someone had noticed the way you and Aki sometimes gravitated toward each other at work, the rare glances that lasted a fraction too long, the way you'd sometimes linger in doorways as though waiting for him to appear. 

And if they did know—what were they thinking? The thought made your stomach clench. There was no denying the potential consequences if people found out, if whispers started. The idea of your connection with Aki being exposed, stripped of the privacy you’d both guarded so carefully, sent a jolt of unease through you. You couldn’t bear the idea of becoming fodder for office gossip, or worse, risking his reputation.

An unbidden thought wormed its way in: Would he still care if people found out? Or would he just carry on, unaffected? You shook it off, annoyed at yourself for even entertaining it. Aki had always been the careful one, the one with more at stake, and you knew he wasn’t the type to let others get in the way of what mattered to him.

But here, surrounded by strangers, you felt uncomfortably bare, like people could see right through you. You felt as if your secret was etched across your face for anyone who bothered to look.

Then, just as you were considering slipping away to find a quiet corner, a voice, smooth and familiar, cut through the noise behind you. “Can I have the honor of bringing you a drink?”

You spun around, and there he was, standing close, his icy blue gaze meeting yours with that easy warmth that managed to quiet every doubt swirling in your head. His smile was subtle, restrained, yet there was a certain spark in his eyes, as though he could see right past the formalities, past the anxiety.

“Aki,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

“Long time, no see, troublemaker,” he replied lightly, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. “You looked like you could use a drink,” he added, holding out a glass. As you took it, your fingers brushed, and for just a second, the world narrowed to that point of contact, every stare, every doubt slipping away, as though he were all that mattered.

“Behave. We’re in public,” You reminded him gently – the way a teenage girl would tell her boyfriend to ‘Stawwwwp’ when he play-fought with her. You were sick, you really were.

He quirked a brow, “I don’t think I did anything remarkable by buying you a drink.”

“People already talk,” You replied. “You don’t think it’s strange that the hardass Captain Hayakawa warmed up to one of his subordinates so quickly despite only having met her in public a handful of times?”

He shrugged as if he couldn’t possibly care less. “Let them talk, then. You look beautiful tonight.”

And, like you were 16 all over again, your cheeks warmed at his words. You took a cheeky little sip of the drink he had brought you – Merlot. Your favorite wine. This close to him, you could smell his cologne – that scent you knew so well, combined with the faintest hint of his detergent, of nicotine. You had spent half of the past few months tangled in his sheets. You would have been able to recognize him with your eyes closed, truly.

“And you’re misbehaving,” You retorted, a tongue-in-cheek comment that you knew he would make you eat when he got you alone. 

“Who’s responsible for that?” He answered back without missing so much as a beat. Stepping closer to you, damn near crossing that line between ‘we’re coworkers’ and ‘she and I are having an affair’, he dropped his voice, “That dress looks amazing on you.”

You couldn’t help the grin that took over your face. The warmth that churned in your gut. “Thank you.”

The two of you began to walk around the room. As you strolled alongside Aki, conversation slipping easily between you, you couldn’t ignore the sense of being watched. It was subtle at first—a flicker of movement in your periphery, a quiet murmur that seemed to fade whenever you glanced around.

But then, you caught sight of them: curious eyes fixed on you, darting quickly away when you noticed, but not quickly enough. Their expressions held that familiar mix of polite interest and quiet judgment, a slight narrowing of brows that sent a wave of unease crawling up your spine.

The stares felt sharper, cutting through the careful facade you were trying so hard to maintain. Your heart raced as a thought wormed its way into your mind: They all know.

You shot a glance at Aki, feeling the heat rise to your face. The easy, flirtatious air you’d shared just moments ago suddenly felt fragile, as if it might shatter under the weight of so many eyes. You swallowed hard, nerves turning to panic. If anyone suspected even a fraction of what lingered between you and Aki, it would spread like wildfire. You couldn’t bear to think about the consequences—for him, for you.

Just as the realization started to sink in, you felt a presence at your side, and there she was—Himeno. Without missing a beat, she slid her arm around yours and Aki’s, drawing both of you closer with an effortless ease that seemed to diffuse the tension around you. Her voice cut through the silence with cheerful bravado, clearly meant to distract any lingering gazes. “There you two are! I was just talking to someone about how great it was being able to catch up with you the other day.”

Himeno cast you a knowing glance, a subtle grin that held an unspoken promise of discretion. With a skill that only she could pull off, she steered the conversation into safer territory, dropping a casual comment about the last mission, something innocuous that allowed you to breathe again.

Then, the three of you kept walking. The onlookers returned to their business.

You managed a laugh, though it felt a bit too high-pitched, a bit too forced. But Himeno kept up the chatter, her presence a welcome buffer as she guided you and Aki through the crowded hall, almost as though she was giving the onlookers a reason to lose interest. Her laughter and bright words cast a shield around the three of you, and for a moment, it worked. The weight of the stares started to lift, the sharpness of their gazes fading into a hum of background noise.

“We’re getting our drink on later, right?” She asked Aki– or you, you weren’t really sure.

“I’m supposed to drive home,” Aki answered.

She pouted, “So what? Call a taxi.”

“I’ll have a few with you,” You said. “But only a few.”

You fell into the flow of conversation as best you could, though it was hard to focus with your nerves still on edge. Every now and then, you caught Aki’s gaze as he glanced at you, brow knit slightly in concern, but you both played along, letting Himeno’s words carry the rhythm.

But then, just as you started to relax, to settle back into the night, you spotted him over Aki’s shoulder. Your husband had arrived, standing at the edge of the crowd, his gaze scanning the room. Your stomach dropped, a sick feeling clawing its way up as you tried to think – then he saw you.

What the hell is he doing here?

Before you could even process the thought, he began walking closer, his face composed, unreadable. Panic set in as you realized the impossible tightrope you were balancing on, and you tried to steady your breathing, to keep your expression neutral. Did he know? Or would he just see you as he always did, like you were any other guest in the room?

You tried to shake off the feeling, to rejoin the conversation, but the momentary calm had vanished. Your thoughts raced as you walked through the crowd, navigating the distance between yourself and your husband like it was a dangerous line.

You turned your back, saying, “You buying?”

“It’s an open bar,” She replied. You tried to look normal, to get lost in the sound of her voice, but it didn’t work, “Miss Makima is buying.”

The moment you heard that unmistakable voice behind you, it felt like your heart froze mid-beat. 

“Hi, honey,” your husband’s voice cut through the buzz of the room, smooth and calm. But there was an edge to it, one that sent a jolt of dread straight down your spine. 

You saw Aki’s head perk up, and his eyes narrowed, sharpening into thin slits as he turned, locking his gaze on your husband with a quiet, intense focus. His stance shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly—his hands folded neatly behind his back, his expression unreadable yet taut. He looked every bit the Lieutenant Captain he was, poised and formidable, the easy-going demeanor from earlier vanishing in an instant.

"So, you’re the husband I’ve heard so much about!” Himeno chirped, trying to cover the tension with her usual bravado, stepping forward with a bright smile. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and squeezed, as though the gesture could somehow shield you from the impending disaster.

Your husband’s half-lidded gaze shifted briefly to her, though his smile barely reached his eyes. "And you are?” His tone was polite, but you could hear the skepticism in it, that subtle doubt as his gaze lingered over Himeno's shoulder, his eyes landing back on Aki, scrutinizing.

You tried to swallow down the knot tightening in your throat, forcing yourself to maintain a calm expression. “Tanimoto, this is Himeno, one of my coworkers,” you said, gesturing to her with a forced, polite smile. Your heart was racing, a nervous energy simmering under your skin, knowing that everything hung by a thread.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tanimoto nodded, acknowledging Himeno with a quick glance, but his focus quickly returned to Aki, whose steely gaze met his head-on. Neither of them seemed inclined to look away.

This is bad. You felt your pulse spike, every instinct screaming that this was the worst possible situation, an unthinkable confrontation playing out right in front of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Hayakawa,” you said, gesturing to Aki with a shaky smile, “This is my— my husband, Tanimoto.”

Why was that so hard to say?

Your husband’s expression flickered as he finally extended his hand—only to Aki. The move felt deliberate, his gesture one of formal politeness rather than genuine warmth. Aki glanced down at the outstretched hand, his face unreadable, but made no move to take it.

“Kyoto, right?” Aki asked instead, his tone flat, as if the question itself were a test.

Tanimoto’s brow quirked slightly, but he kept his expression controlled. “Yes. You’re familiar?”

Aki held his gaze, his tone unyielding. “I’m Lieutenant Captain. It’s my job.”

“I’m saying I don’t know what you thought you were doing in Tokyo,” he said, his voice rising. “But word travels in Public Safety. There are rumors about you dancing around with a little Captain, or some shit.”

A flicker of surprise crossed your husband’s face, a slight widening of his eyes as he absorbed the title, the unexpected rank that carried a weight all its own. But he recovered quickly, giving a polite nod. “Of course. My apologies,” he said, with a practiced smoothness.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, the air thick with an unspoken tension that felt fucking electric. 

Himeno, sensing the palpable strain, chimed in with a bright smile. “Well, it’s always nice to meet family! We’re so glad you could join us, even if just for a little bit.” Her voice had an airy quality to it, intentionally lighthearted, but you could see the slight worry in her eyes as she glanced between you and Aki.

Tanimoto didn’t answer her right away. He kept his gaze on Aki a beat longer, then turned to you, his smile settling into something unreadable. “Would you mind if I steal my lovely wife away? Just for a moment?”

Himeno’s gaze flicked to you, silently asking if you were alright. 

You managed a quick nod, and she gave a cheery, “Of course! We’ll be right here when you get back.” Her tone was bright as always, her words meant as reassurance as she gently released her grip on you.

The moment Himeno stepped back, Tanimoto turned and started toward a quieter area a few feet away, his posture rigid. Your heart thundered as you took a breath, then stepped forward, catching up to him as you plastered on a smile, though the pulse in your throat felt thick, tense. 

“I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, neutral.

“Meeting let up early,” he answered, his voice clipped. His gaze scanned the room briefly, as though he were evaluating everything around him. “I came to take you home.”

He was mad.

Your heart dropped, and you barely suppressed the urge to step back. You forced a casual smile, though your chest tightened as you tried to gauge his expression. 

"What?" You asked, laughter bubbling up, sounding forced to your own ears. "No, that won’t be necessary."

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder. Aki was still talking to Himeno, but you could feel his blue eyes on you every few seconds, a silent question in his gaze each time it flickered your way. You swallowed, steadying yourself.

"I’m staying. I’ll catch a taxi back," You added, hoping it sounded convincing, though your voice wavered slightly. “The party just started, like, an hour ago.”

Tanimoto’s expression hardened, suspicion flickering over his face as he regarded you. He hesitated, his eyes narrowing as if weighing your words. A long, tense moment passed before he sighed, the sound reluctant, yet resigned. "Alright," he replied slowly. "But don’t be out too late."

He stepped forward to kiss you on the cheek, his lips nearing, and instinctively, you winced, ducking away before he could reach you. His expression darkened slightly, though he quickly masked it, a smile slipping over his features like an ill-fitting glove.

This is horrible.

There was a beat of silence, a silent acknowledgment that neither of you addressed. Then he straightened, nodding curtly. 

"Well," he said, glancing over at Aki and Himeno, "Excuse me for interrupting. Nice meeting you all."

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way to the exit, his footsteps echoing as he left the hall. You exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding over you as the tension began to dissipate.

Himeno was instantly at your side, her expression half-amused, half-concerned as she watched him disappear. "Thanks for covering," you murmured, your shoulders sagging as you let yourself relax for the first time since he’d arrived.

She gave you a sly grin, patting your arm gently. "No problem," she said, shooting a quick glance at Aki, who was watching you both carefully, his arms crossed, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. "But we’ll need to talk later, girl," she added, her voice low and teasing, though there was a note of worry in her eyes.

Aki’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, a flicker of relief passing over his face. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he would have a lot to say later.

Himeno cleared her throat, “So… would now be a good time to hit up that bar?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” You sighed, turning away from Aki’s piercing gaze. You couldn’t bear to look at him. No, you were ashamed. Polishing off the rest of your wine in one go, you added, “I need something stronger than this.”

As the night went on, the conversation began to flow a little easier – as did the booze. In fact, by the time the party was drawing to a close, the three of you were completely inebriated. Himeno had that pinkish flush to her face that you remembered so well. Aki was practically slumped over after his (??)th cocktail of the night. You were blinking tiredly at Himeno, at whatever story she was telling you that you hadn’t been listening to.

The three of you were stood outside of the venue. Arms crossed over your body to brace yourself against the cold wind, you replied, “That’s bull.”

“That’s what I said!” Himeno slurred. “I told him to quit playing in my face. It’s a real problem – men, these days.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” You agreed half-assedly, gaze trickling over to your lover, whose eyes were glazed over with a drunken look. He was in no shape to drive back, that was for sure. “Aki, are you driving home?”

“Yeah, I…” He swallowed, swaying slightly on his feet – at six-foot-something, he looked like a skyscraper, bending in the wind. Slowly, like he had to think extra hard about it, he continued, “Yeah… I am.”

“I don’t think so,” Himeno answered before you could say the same thing. “You should call a taxi.”

“Taxis are for wussies,” Aki grumbled beneath his breath. Still, when you cast him a pout, he stepped towards the curb. 

So cute.

The wind outside the venue felt sharper against your flushed skin, biting through the remnants of warmth left over from the drinks. You crossed your arms over your chest, bracing against the chill, though the sight of Aki swaying slightly on his feet in his drunken stupor was enough to bring a small smile to your face.

“Come on, Aki. Be sensible,” you coaxed, giving him a soft pout of your own.

He sighed, reluctantly stepping toward the curb to wave a taxi down. It was cute, watching him try to flag one down with all the determination he could muster, though most cars drove past him without so much as slowing down.

Himeno leaned in, nudging you gently. “He doesn’t look so hot. Maybe you should see him home safe?”

You sighed, glancing over at Aki as he cursed at a passing taxi. “You’re probably right.”

He grumbled something incoherent, swaying a bit as another cab sped past him. 

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “What a night.”

“What a night, indeed, girly.” Himeno pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long drag before she exhaled into the cold night air. She held the pack toward you, her eyes half-lidded with a mixture of exhaustion and tipsy satisfaction. You declined politely, and she shrugged, tucking it back into her bag.

“So… you cab-hopping with us?” you asked, feeling a bit of reluctance at the thought of her leaving.

She shook her head, her lips curving into a sly grin. “Nah. When you drink on the daily, driving comes naturally.” She waved you off with a lazy salute.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a taxi slowed to a stop at the curb, and Aki staggered up to it, gesturing for you to get in. “It’s for you,” he called, the words a bit slurred. “Get you home safe.”

You stepped closer, folding your arms and giving him a playful look. “I’m coming home with you,” you called back.

His eyes widened, and then, he smirked, one of those warm, lazy smiles that made your heart skip. “I like the sound of that.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Just get in the damn taxi. I wanna say bye, first.” 

He pouted but got in, slumping down and muttering to the driver, half-lidded eyes still on you as he settled into the seat.

You turned back to Himeno, laughing softly. “Get home safe, okay?”

She took another drag of her cigarette, her gaze softening a bit. “You too. And make sure Sleeping Beauty over there doesn’t puke all over that pretty dress of yours, yeah?”

You grinned. “I’ll see you around?”

“Always,” she replied, giving you a wink as she turned, already headed back inside the venue.

With one last glance, you slipped into the taxi, shutting the door behind you. The driver pulled away, and you relaxed into the seat, feeling the tension of the night start to ebb. Aki was staring out the window, a soft smile on his face, and when he caught sight of you beside him, his expression softened.

As the taxi moved through the quiet streets, Aki’s head lulled to the side, and he let out a small sigh before resting it against your shoulder. You stiffened at first, the unexpected weight and warmth of him surprising. But he looked so peaceful, so unguarded in this moment that you felt the tightness in your shoulders ease.

“Missed you,” he murmured, his voice soft and heavy with drowsiness, each word dragging as if he were only half-awake.

In a rare, unfiltered moment of abandon, he leaned further into you, snuggling against your shoulder shamelessly, letting out a contented hum. You found yourself smiling softly, letting your head rest against his for just a moment, savoring the quiet intimacy that had so rarely been yours to enjoy.

“Aki, don’t be a baby,” You laughed.

Aki pressed a wet kiss to your neck, then another. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress,” He slurred against your skin. 

A part of you yearned for nothing more than that. Still, one spare glance over at him, at the way he was practically slumped over you – six feet of man nearly crushing you – and you knew no such thing was happening.

Sure, you thought to yourself.

Five minutes later, you finally managed to steer him through the front door. Once you reached the bed, Aki all but collapsed onto it, sprawling out immediately, limbs splayed as he peered up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze that was both bleary and endearing. You stood over him, shaking your head as you reached for his blazer, fumbling a little with the sleeves as he sat half-propped up, his arms nearly dead weight in your hands.

“Gotta take this off,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, as you tugged the blazer free. He blinked at you, a sleepy smile pulling at his lips.

“Come to bed,” he drawled, his words stretching out as he reached for you, pulling you down so you were inches from him.

“Just a minute,” you promised with a soft laugh, brushing his hand away gently. “I’m just going to take my shoes off. Be right back.”

Reluctantly, he released his hold on you, and you watched him flop back, eyes following you with a warm, bleary gaze as you walked over to his dresser. After a moment’s thought, you pulled open one of the drawers and found an old T-shirt—soft and worn from years of wear—and slipped it out, holding it close as you headed to the bathroom.

Inside, you closed the door behind you, taking a steadying breath as you caught your reflection in the mirror. You looked a little undone, your makeup smudged, hair slightly tousled, but the dress… it still looked good, clinging to you in all the right places. You took one last look, savoring the way you looked tonight, then slipped out of the dress, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. You reached for the T-shirt, pulling it over your head and letting it drape down, its fabric oversized and comfortable against your skin, smelling faintly of him.

The mirror caught your eye again as you reached for his face wash, and with a soft smile, you lathered it up between your hands, then began gently washing away the remnants of your makeup, the cool water a refreshing relief on your skin. Rinsing off the last traces, you looked up at your reflection, a little softer now, a little more natural—and somehow, that felt even better.

With a final glance at the mirror, you turned off the faucet and padded back to the bedroom, where Aki lay sprawled out, just as you’d left him, his eyes now closed. Smiling, you climbed into bed beside him, careful not to disturb him too much, though as soon as you settled, he shifted instinctively, rolling toward you. His arm draped over you, heavy but comforting, and he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“Aki,” you whispered with a grin, your hand brushing gently over his back. “I have to go… my husband…”

He hummed, barely conscious, and mumbled, “Few more minutes…” His hand curled a little tighter around you as if refusing to let go.

You bit back a quiet laugh and let yourself relax, resting one hand on his shoulder as the other threaded through his hair. You traced gentle circles into his scalp, brushing his hair back, and he settled deeper into sleep, his breathing falling into a soft, steady rhythm.

Settling down beside him, you let out a quiet, contented sigh as Aki instinctively rolled toward you, his arm slipping over your waist with a sleepy possessiveness. His face nestled close to your neck, and you could feel the faint warmth of his breath against your skin, soft and steady, a rhythm that seemed to calm your own heartbeat. You stayed still for a moment, just letting yourself savor the feeling of his weight pressing into you, grounding you, his entire presence a heavy warmth against your side.

With a gentle smile, you shifted, letting your hand drift to his hair, fingers sinking into the soft, inky strands that spilled over his forehead and brushed against his closed eyelids. His hair was messy from the night, a few pieces sticking up in places, and the sight filled you with a deep tenderness. Slowly, you began to run your fingers through it, smoothing it back gently, and as you did, you felt him release a soft sigh, his body relaxing even more fully into the mattress.

You let your fingertips trace along his scalp in gentle, rhythmic strokes, moving from his forehead back to the nape of his neck, where the hair grew slightly coarser. He let out a little contented murmur, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shifted closer to you, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if to keep you there. The sound he made was so endearing, so soft, that it made you ache with a fondness that was almost too much to hold inside.

As your hand moved along the curve of his head, brushing back a few loose strands that had fallen over his eyes, you let your thumb trace softly along his temple, feeling the slight warmth of his skin beneath it. He looked so peaceful, his usual furrowed brow now relaxed, his sharp features softened in sleep. You could see the faint shadows under his eyes—traces of all the late nights and worries that weighed on him more than he let on—and it made you wish you could keep him like this, in this tranquil state, where everything was quiet and safe.

You continued petting his hair, your hand moving with a tender slowness, tracing little circles along his scalp, letting your fingertips drift along his hairline. Occasionally, he’d mumble something incoherent in his sleep, his lips barely moving as he settled deeper into slumber, his face nuzzling closer to the crook of your neck. You could feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin, a light, tickling sensation that made you smile.

Minutes stretched on in a warm, quiet haze as you watched him, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips parted slightly in relaxation. At one point, he murmured something close to a whisper, his arm curling around you a little tighter, and you couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to the crown of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him—something warm and grounding that seemed to soothe something deep within you.

As the clock ticked on toward 11 p.m., you felt a small pang of reluctance, knowing you’d have to get up soon, but still, you waited a few moments longer. You let yourself linger, your hand threading through his hair one last time, your thumb brushing over his cheek in a gentle, barely-there caress. Aki let out a final, contented sigh, his breathing deep and even, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest as you realized he was fully, blissfully asleep.

At last, with a soft exhale, you began to ease yourself out of his hold, moving slowly so as not to wake him, your fingers slipping away from his hair. You brushed one last stray lock from his forehead before gently shifting off the bed, giving him one last fond look as he lay there, still wrapped in peaceful dreams – dreams which you could only hope were about you.

407… 408… 409… 410. You drunkenly read the numbers off of the wall as you stumbled towards you and your husband’s hotel room. 413.. 413… 413! Found it.

You opened the door with the key quietly, as if it would make any difference. Your husband could have slept through anything. Gently, you opened the door, and shut it behind you even more gently. When you were sure that he was still asleep, you kicked your heels off – yes, you got into a cab wearing Aki’s tee as a dress to accompany your high heels. Your dress was tucked beneath your arm. 

It was dark in the room. So dark, in fact, that you could hardly see your own two legs as they moved towards the bedroom. 

Is he here? You thought to yourself. Your heart rate climbed at the prospect of him leaving – perhaps he had sniffed you out, after all?

Just then, someone – your husband, assumedly – flicked the lamp on. He was sat directly beneath it, perched in the loveseat with a book propped open in his hands. 

Since when did he read? You thought. And what’s with the freaky lighting?

Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat, you spoke, “You reading in the dark?”

He said nothing. With a shrug, you set your belongings down on the desk. 

“Sorry I’m back so late. I had to bring Himeno home,” You huffed out a humorless little laugh. “She drank too much for her own good.”

Again, he said nothing. You froze, eyes locking onto the figure settled beneath the lamp – the figure of the man you used to love. The lamp above him cast shadows across his face, catching on the edges of his cheekbones and making his eyes seem hollowed, calculating.

Slowly, he closed his book, fingers lingering over the cover as he looked up at you, his expression unreadable. There was a hint of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes—disappointment, or maybe anger, simmering just beneath the surface.

“I stayed up to talk to you,” he said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was low, calm, but something about it made you feel small, like a child caught in a lie.

“Oh?” you managed, swallowing down the uneasy feeling that had been growing in your chest. “About what?”

His gaze never left you as he spoke, his voice coldly measured. “I wanted to tell you that you might, by indiscretion, give the world a reason to talk about you.”

“I’m not a committee,” you replied, attempting a casual smile, though it came off more strained than you’d intended. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward, his fingers laced together. “You and Captain Hayakawa attracted attention tonight.” His voice remained even, though you caught a flicker of something sharp in his gaze. “I didn’t notice anything myself, but it seems everyone else did.”

Shit.

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “What on earth are you talking about?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Look, I’ve told you this before, and I’ll say it again. I have no right to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. Your decisions concern only your moral compass. But I wanted to remind you that we are married, bound by god. Only a sin against him can break that bond.”

You felt a swell of frustration, heat rising in your cheeks. “I would hardly consider conversation to be a sin.”

He cocked his head, his eyes narrowed as if dissecting you, trying to catch the slightest falter. “A conversation is just what we see,” he said quietly. “Who knows what could have happened while you were out… gallivanting?”

The accusation, so thinly veiled, made you go rigid. “You’re accusing me, then?” you said, a slight tremor in your voice. “Accusing me of… cheating?”

“I never said that.” His gaze remained steady, unwavering. “Unless, of course, there’s something you’re not telling me?”

The words struck a nerve, and you bit back an exasperated sigh, the tension inside you bubbling over. “You don’t like it when I don’t talk to people, and you don’t like it when I do,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Stop doing that… that thing where you talk circles around me. It’s too late for this.”

The room felt suffocating, his presence weighing heavily on you, pressing down until you couldn’t take it anymore. Turning on your heel, you began to make your way to the bathroom, needing a moment of quiet, a second to breathe. He moved as if to follow, but you held up a hand, not looking back.

“Don’t follow me,” you said, the words barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you.

Without another glance, you walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You took a breath and stared into the mirror. Reaching up, you began to undo your hair, tugging pins free one by one. With each one that dropped onto the counter, a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders, and finally, you let your hair fall loose, watching it spill over your shoulders.

The door creaked, and you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror as your husband appeared in the doorway. His silhouette was softened by the dim lighting, but his expression held that same guarded intensity.

“If I’m wrong, then… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. For a brief moment, you saw something else there—maybe regret, maybe exhaustion.

You’re not. You’re completely right. I'm having an affair.

We’re in love.

I want a divorce.

You took a steadying breath, choosing your words carefully, though it was hard to keep the bitterness from your tone. “You are.” Letting the silence settle between you, you finally added, “Can we just… go to bed, please?”

He nodded, exhaling softly as he moved back toward the bedroom. After taking a final glance in the mirror, you followed, feeling an ache that settled somewhere deep inside you, one that even the cool darkness couldn’t soothe.

He had already slid beneath the covers when you came in, lying on his side with his back to you, the silence between you stretching out uncomfortably. You climbed into bed beside him, the mattress dipping as you shifted into your usual place, though tonight it felt almost foreign.

In the quiet, words bubbled up unbidden, slipping past your lips in a murmur to yourself. “Too late.”

“Missed you,” Aki gasped, pressing his palms deep into your lower back, pushing you down a little further. When he thrusted forward, the car jolted. 

You thought of his words from earlier – his comment about makeup sex being the best way to reconnect after time apart. And, shit, he was right. As he fucked you open only a few miles away from the hotel where your husband was fast asleep, you couldn’t have agreed more.

You cried out for him, fingers digging into the leather seats of his car. He was so fucking deep – it was driving you crazy. 

“Aki,” You breathed out his name – two simple syllables, a trick of the tongue as it rolled off with ease. It felt so good to have him like this after going so long without seeing him. The two of you were entangled in the backseat – you, face down with your back arched all the way up while he took you from behind at an angle so brutal it had you drooling all over leather seats. Your slushies were getting warm in the cupholders, long forgotten.

Every time his hips were flush up against your ass, you could do nothing but claw harder, moan louder, worship him. Desperately, you rutted your hips back.

“Mis– Missed you t-too,” You managed to stutter out. 

“Oh, fuck,” He sighed. “Cum with me, baby. I love you.”

You loved him too. More than he knew. So much so, in fact, that you fell over the edge only a moment later with an, “I love you, too!”

You loved him with your entire body and soul.

a/n: im not gonna say much, but i will say that i hope you enjoyed this fluffy little chapter! the next one will be a much harder read. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[discordiansamba]

katara couldn't sleep.

after several hours of tossing and turning in her bed, she groaned and sat up. she already knew what the source of the problem was- as her waterbending grew stronger, so too did her tie to the moon. when it was full, she could hardly sleep a wink. with a sigh, she quietly made her way towards the small servant's kitchens. she didn't think they would mind if she borrowed them to make herself some tea.

to her surprise, zuko was already there.

"katara?" zuko asked. "what are you doing here?"

"that feels like it should be my question," katara asked, "-are you making tea?"

zuko hummed in agreement, and asked if she would like some. she smiled and thanked him, taking a seat at the small table. watching him make tea felt strange- a little like she was watching lee again. he set a cup of herbal tea in front of her, then sat down next to her with his own cup.

they talked quietly for awhile, about nothing in particular. it was... strange, being on friendly terms with zuko. after ba sing se, she'd thought she'd never be able to forgive him- but it had been almost impossible for her to hold onto that anger after she'd learned what it had earned him. she'd ended up angrier at azula than anything. she'd used her brother, and then she'd gotten rid of him.

it helped that zuko was different now.

she guessed it made sense. she'd gotten rid of the false memories that had been implanted in his head, but he'd still spent two years living as a different person. and being a different person meant having a different view of the world- and the war. she didn't think they had to worry about zuko burning down villages anymore. the person who had emerged from that ordeal was... different.

if anything, she was starting to like him.

"so," she tilted her head, "-nervous about returning home?"

zuko blinked, looking up at her. his brow furrowed in confusion as he asked what she meant. he already was home.

katara felt a chill creep up her spine.

"zuko," she said, "-you're not going home until tomorrow. we're still in ba sing se."

"no," zuko frowned, "-i'm pretty sure i live here."

katara stared at him, and very quietly she asked zuko why he thought that. he blinked slowly at her, and asked why she thought he didn't. he... worked here, didn't he? he'd been invited to serve the earth king tea. he didn't say it with any of the confidence that lee ever had when he spoke of his life, like he wasn't sure about it.

"zuko," she said quietly, "-do you mind if i check your head for a moment?"

zuko didn't say anything. he suddenly didn't seem quite as... present, katara thought. she took that as permission anyways, drawing some water from the faucet and placing her hands over his head. she closed her eyes and concentrated-

-and instantly, she realized what the problem was.

zuko was sleeping.

she didn't mean metaphorically. zuko was literally asleep, despite what his open eyes and responsiveness to their earlier conversation might suggest.

spirits. zuko was sleepwalking.

...how long had he been sleepwalking?

no, more importantly. she had to get him back to bed. she smiled at him and agreed with him. yes, he did work here. which meant he had to get up early tomorrow morning. so he really needed to get some sleep. zuko stared at her for a few moments, before he agreed she was right. he let her guide him back to his room.

she stayed until she was sure he was actually asleep.

she'd ask around the palace the next morning. zuko had apparently been doing this for weeks, but none of the guards or servants who had spoken to him had realized that something was wrong. they'd just thought the fire prince was having trouble sleeping, just like she had. sokka even confessed that he'd had a midnight chat with zuko at one point too, but he hadn't noticed anything odd.

(he'd made him tea then too.)

when she asked zuko about it, he didn't remember a thing.

"agni," he muttered, "-i'm so fucked up."

"don't worry," katara promised him, "-i'm sure it's just because you're still in ba sing se. you'll get better once you go home."

...she hoped.

zuko's in the courtyard. he's got swords.

sokka is instantly worried. like. for a lot of reason. chief among them because before the whole... brainwashing thing, zuko's dedicated mission in life was hunting down and capturing the avatar. he hadn't shown any inclination to pick it back up after he'd gotten un-brainwashed, but...

"sokka," zuko doesn't even turn to look at him, "-i know you're there."

sokka stays still. he's bluffing. he's perfectly hidden in the bushes.

zuko points a sword in his general direction and tells him to get out of the bushes. okay. maybe he does know where he was. the not-looking but knowing where he is thing reminds him a little of toph, but zuko is apparently half blind. maybe that shouldn't be a surprise.

"okay, you caught me," sokka stands up, "-but the real question is... what are you doing?"

zuko just gives him a bland look. he's practicing, what does it look like? turns out his dao were in the jasmine dragon this whole time. it's been two years since he touched them. he's gotten rusty. he can't really firebend at the moment, so he figured now was a good time to pick them back up.

you know, sokka says. not to boast, but while you were off serving tea, he'd studied the blade himself. zuko rolls his eyes. yeah, i heard. you learned from piandao. something about losing your comet sword during the invasion and pleading with aang to search the ocean for it for you?

"first off," sokka says, "-it was a space sword. second off-"

he draws said sword. the pleading paid off. why don't we spar a little? swordbender to swordbender.

zuko briefly looks like he's thinking about killing him again. sokka doesn't mind. it's good for his recovery. then zuko just shrugs. sure. i could use the practice. you weren't the only one to study with piandao, though.

sokka readies himself. he's not worried. zuko hasn't picked up a sword in two years. how good could he be?

the answer? very.

okay. now he thinks he can understand how he'd broke aang out of pohuai stronghold with just swords. sokka sits up, and he swears zuko smirks as he sheathes his swords- but he also offers him a hand. sokka hauls himself up with it, dusting off the back of his pants. huh. guess that's why lan-wei wanted to convince you you were useless at swordplay.

"yeah, probably," zuko says, "-he wanted me to think i was defenseless. i'm pretty sure if you put dao in lee's hands, he wouldn't even be able to use them."

he looks at zuko. he asks what that's like, to have his own skills stolen from him like that. he shakes his head. he couldn't tell you. lee didn't even know what he was capable of. there's nothing to miss if you don't even know it's gone.

and that? that's scary.

"...i guess i should thank you," zuko says after a moment, "-for not just leaving me like that."

sokka shrugs it off. no problem. you weren't their friend or anything, but they couldn't just leave you like that. at the same time... he thinks lee had become their friend, at the end there. those last few days at the ember island villa felt like they'd roped a new friend into their little group. maybe it's why they'd all gone along with katara's crazy idea to let lee choose.

he missed him, just a little.

ah well. guess he'd have to just make do with zuko.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

you open my Super Important Documents and its just pictures of charles xavier

[chickenoptyrx]

*sittin up projecting onto the baby blorbo when I should be sleeping*

[kindahoping4forever]

Pretend I gave this a hinged and appropriate caption

[perilegs]

my sweet little baby man is no longer with us

[claitea]

i wish pokemon would do more characters who betray you but at the same time if they did it wouldnt work anymore

the reason characters like dusknoir and volo are so cool to me is bc pokemon is about friendships! its about bonds and the strength you draw from relying on people and helping them in turn! so when a character suddenly reveals they've been using you it sucks so bad and it rules!!! volo esp is so cool rn bc unlike dusknoir, so far we haven't seen him turn a new leaf. dusknoir's story still ends in the companionship pokemon promotes but for volo its still up in the air what happened to him. but anyway point is, betrayal plots are so cool in pokemon's context i love it sm

[mccleans]

tiptoeing on the edge of a panic attack at work