#I await your complaints in the ask box

[wevelocityteampresents-blog]

When I started work on a photomorph of a character from Oliver and Company, most people would expect someone like Georgette. But I decided to go for a character who’s more underappreciated when it comes to fan art. And that character was Tito.

At first, I didn’t think Tito would be a nice fit for this. But after looking at this again, I feel like I made an excellent choice. He his headband goes great with the jacket!

Sorry furries Georgette fans. You’ll just have to get your precious poddle photomorphs from an artist who does more dirty work.

Original image: https://www.thefashionisto.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/macys-american-icons-ryan-lochte-calvin-klein-photos-006.jpg

[sweetbluus]

rumor has it

synopsis: rumor has it that yu jimin, straight A student and the star captain of the university's volleyball team, has only gotten to where she is through cheating and bribery. now, she's your partner for a final paper.

pairing: uni student jimin x uni student fem!reader

warnings: cursing

word count: 9.5k

notes: this is my first time uploading a piece on any media platform. feedback and comments are much appreciated!

the buzz of the students in the lecture hall dies down immediately as dr. kim, your english professor, walks in. you find your seat beside your best friend aeri and uncap your pen, ready to take notes. aeri, however, has different plans and rests her head on her arms, ready to catch up on sleep for the next hour. it isn't her fault that the university thought an 8 am english class was a great idea.

"good morning, class. let’s begin today’s lecture," dr. kim's voice echoes. with those words, you begin jotting down the professor's key points, making sure your handwriting is clear, knowing that the sleeping girl beside you will be asking for your notes later.

throughout the lecture, you can't resist sneaking glances at the girl two rows ahead of you. yu jimin sits there, in all her glory. you don’t know many people at this university, but it's nearly impossible not to recognize jimin.

her face adorns bulletin boards all over campus, celebrating her role as the victorious captain of the volleyball team that clinched the national championship for the university. from life-sized cutouts of her and the team placed around various corners to her frequent appearances on the university’s instagram story, it's harder to evade her presence than to acknowledge it.

although you aren't particularly interested in sports, you can't help but admit that she is extremely attractive. however, you’ve heard numerous stories about jimin's infamous reputation, primarily from the napping girl beside you. apparently, jimin is a rude and overall unpleasant person who got her high grades thanks to bribery and cheating.

an hour drifts by, and finally, dr. kim speaks the much-awaited words, "alright, class. i believe that concludes today’s session."

before you can pack your bag and make fun of your friend for drooling, dr. kim interjects, "oh, before i dismiss you, i'd like to announce that the final paper is approaching. it will be a paired effort." a glance between you and aeri implies your agreement to be partners.

"i will be assigning the pairs randomly," the professor states, pausing to allow the students to voice their groans and complaints.

"is she serious?" aeri asks you in a hushed voice. however, it wasn’t quiet enough.

"yes, miss uchinaga. i am indeed serious," you stifle a laugh as your best friend's ears turn crimson.

"as i was saying, this final paper will be done in pairs that i will randomly assign. you are all adults, and it's important to learn how to collaborate with people you don’t know. this paper will facilitate that skill." it takes all your restraint not to roll your eyes. it's way too early to be doing this.

“when i call your name, come up to my desk and pick a piece of paper from this box which has the names of everyone in this class. show me the piece of paper and i’ll announce it. if it’s your own name, you can draw again.” dr. kim looks around to make sure the class understands the instructions.

“it seems like everyone has understood so we’ll begin. miss uchinaga and miss y/l/n, why don’t you do the honors and pick out your pairs first.”

you and a much more awake aeri begin walking to the front, not missing the way jimin’s eyes quickly meet yours. maybe you just need some sleep just like aeri.

with a sigh, aeri goes first and is paired with the girl who is sitting on the right of jimin, a girl with the name ning yizhuo. she seems nice enough with the way she smiles at aeri when she hears her name.

you go up to the box and rummage through its contents. stopping at what you feel is an appropriate time, you unfold the paper and show it to your professor.

“it seems like ms. y/l/n’s partner for the final paper is yu jimin,” you make eye contact with her as the professor calls her name, and you give her a tight-lipped smile. she meets your eyes and only gives you a small nod. you and aeri go back to your seats.

as the professor continues to announce pairs, you notice a mix of expressions – excitement and disappointment – on the faces of your classmates. some seem genuinely happy with their partners, while others exchange anxious glances.

“i am giving you all 2 months to work on this paper. please do not procrastinate. this is a major paper, and your grade on it will have an immense effect on your final grade overall,” dr. kim announces before she leaves the room.

the buzz of the students in the lecture hall continues once more, with the majority of the class talking to their partners. you take a quick look at your partner, who was still sitting next to what seemed to be two of her close friends, one of which was aeri’s partner and the other was a girl named minjeong, her co-captain.

“i’m scared,” you tell your best friend. “what if she makes me do all the work?”

“hey, don’t judge a book by its cover – or i guess a person by their rumors,” aeri says, getting up from her chair. 

“you’re the one who told me those rumors in the first place!”

“i would say i was spreading valuable information, not rumors,” aeri reasons as you both begin walking to exit the front door of the lecture hall.

before you both could step out the door, you feel a tap on your shoulder. you turn around, not expecting a certain raven-haired girl to be the one behind you.

“hi, y/n. i’m jimin,” she introduces herself to you bluntly without a smile on her face, how welcoming. before replying, you nod goodbye to aeri, encouraging her to go on without you.

“nice to meet you, jimin.” it was your first time talking to this girl, but immediately you could feel the pressure of her presence. you could barely look her in the eyes.

“here’s my number,” jimin hands you her phone with her contact information bright on the screen. “i have another class after this, but i’ll text you so that we can meet and talk about the paper.”

you nod, pulling out your phone and copying the numbers from her screen onto yours.

putting her phone back into her pocket, jimin begins walking out of the room with her two friends trailing not so far behind her.

“oh, and by the way, y/n,” jimin stops in her steps and stares you down in the eyes, “i won’t make you do all the work. i don’t trust you enough with my grades.”

you stand there, mouth slightly agape and face hot from embarrassment, watching the three girls walk out of your sight.

fuck.

"y/n, it's not that bad," aeri attempts to comfort you as she took a bite of her sandwich. hours had passed since you were paired with jimin, and now you found yourself in a university common space, trying to have lunch with aeri. however, the embarrassment from your earlier encounter was dampening your appetite.

"she probably hates me now, i can feel it," you sighed dramatically, plopping your head onto the cold table.

"what you're feeling is probably hunger. eat," aeri said, digging through your bag to retrieve your packed lunch. “it’s not your fault you didn’t know she had superhuman hearing,” aeri tries to make light of the situation.

"she's going to tell all her followers that i'm an asshole, and i'm somehow going to get expelled from this university," you exclaim with an exaggerated groan.

you're well aware you're being overly dramatic, but considering the rigorous academic demands of this university and the looming assignments, papers, and tests from multiple classes, your nerves are at an all-time high.

"first of all, calm down," aeri set her sandwich aside. "second, i know i'm the one who keeps you updated with all the campus gossip since you're practically a dorm hermit. but seriously, rumors are just rumors."

you didn't understand why she had to point out your introverted, homebody habits. "you should just let go of those rumors and form your own opinion about her once you actually get to know her."

you don't reply as you open up your lunch and began taking small bites. that was one of your biggest dilemmas. if you looked up "opinionated" in the dictionary, it would feature your face as an antonym.

always going with the flow, never wanting to stand out or have a loud presence, you'd rather take what you're given than go out and seek something yourself. hell, you couldn't even form an opinion on a tiktok without first checking the comments to see what the majority of viewers thought.

before you could spiral deeper into your thoughts, your phone vibrates.

yu jimin

this is jimin.

i’m free at 3 pm today. let’s meet at the library if you’re free too.

“who’s that,” aeri asks as she notices your eyes skimming over your phone. “it’s jimin, she wants to meet at the library later today,” you answer.

y/n

hi, jimin.

i’m free. i’ll see you then.

“ugh, i don’t want to go,” you complain to aeri.

“y/n, are you hearing yourself?” your best friend gives you a deadpan look, “this paper is worth more than half of our final grade. if you fail this paper, you’re going to fail the class.”

the weight of her words sinks in, and you're reminded of the possible consequences of not taking the paper seriously. of course, you knew that you had no choice but to go and work with the infamous volleyball team captain. while you were still quite mortified from your earlier interaction with her, you didn’t want to fail out of college just yet.

only the distant hum of quiet conversations and the faint rustle of pages moving could be heard as you enter the library.

as you weave your way through the bookshelves toward the back, you finally lay eyes on the person you were looking for. jimin is focused on whatever content is displayed on her laptop. you can't help but notice her furrowed brows and the subtle movement of her lips as she reads the text in a hushed voice. the sun's rays cast a gentle glow on the contours of her face, accentuating her features.

curse this university for having naturally well-lit buildings.

you gently tap her shoulder, careful not to startle the focused girl. you wish you could say that her expression softened the moment she turned and spotted you, but if anything, her features seemed to tighten. this was going to be a fun time.

“hi,” you say quietly to jimin as you sit down in the open chair in front of her.

"let's begin," she immediately suggests while you retrieve your laptop from your bag. "i understand that we could work on this individually in separate places since we both have access to this document, but i personally prefer collaborating face-to-face with my partner, especially for a final paper." you give a nod in agreement to jimin's proposal.

for the next hour, you and jimin discuss only the paper's details, staying firmly on the subject of your final paper. she has already outlined the content the two of you will cover, assigned each of you specific sections to write, and established a schedule for completing each part.

at one point, she asks, "what do you think? you haven't said a word about anything i’ve mentioned." her eyes remain fixed on the shared document displayed on both your screens, with a majority of the content coming from jimin.

"i mean, i'm fine with whatever," you reply. in group papers, you've never been inclined to voice your opinions or contribute ideas. don’t get it wrong, you're certainly not a freeloader, but you've never assumed the role of a group leader either.

"not even a single suggestion or comment?" she finally lifts her gaze from her laptop, locking eyes with you. you instantly break the brief eye contact you shared.

"no, i’ll give you some if i come up with any. besides, we still have 2 months ahead to tackle this paper," you explain, trying to reason with her. she releases a deep sigh and shifts her focus back to her laptop.

she clearly isn't your biggest fan.

"i think that's all we should do today. we've got a solid plan in place, and we can use the upcoming days to gradually work on this paper," she informs you, sliding her laptop into her bag.

you nod, following suit and tidying up your side of the table.

"i have classes from 8 am until 3 pm back-to-back," jimin rises from her seat and pushes her chair in. "i've got volleyball practice every day of the week, starting at 4 pm, except for wednesdays and thursdays." you raise your eyebrows at the mention of her grueling schedule.

“so, we can meet at the library on wednesdays and thursdays after my last class, which is at 3 pm," she looks at you, and you get the feeling that she's not suggesting a meet-up but rather informing you that it's already arranged.

“sounds good with me, i’m free those days as well,” you inform her with the awareness that she had already assumed so.

as she turns to leave, a feeling inside you compels you to apologize for the comment you made about her to aeri in the lecture hall earlier. but before you can muster the courage to do so, she's already gone.

for the next two weeks, you and jimin meet up at the library on wednesdays and thursdays. while you still saw her during your 8 am class, she was only focused on the lecture or in conversations solely with yizhuo and minjeong. however, in the privacy of the library, your interactions with her only happen through the shared online document where your collaborative work took place.

actual conversations, if they could even be labeled as such, between the two of you were few and far between. the only topic that managed to breach the silence was the ongoing discussion about the final paper.

during lunch, you update aeri about your library sessions with jimin. between bites of food, you express your worry, "i honestly don't know how i'll survive working with her for the next two months. it's not that she's a bad partner or anything. i just feel so awkward around her, like i want to disappear into the ground every time we're in that library."

aeri raises an eyebrow and helps herself to a piece of your food. "have you ever tried having a conversation that’s not about the paper with her? maybe if you initiate something, she'll actually have a real conversation with you."

thinking about it now, you realize that you've never actually initiated a conversation with jimin throughout the weeks of meeting up. it's always been her leading the discussions about the paper while you simply go along with whatever tasks need completing.

you sigh, setting down your utensils. "she probably can't stand me."

aeri counters with an exclamation, "she doesn't even know you! besides, she's not exactly a nobody on this campus. she's likely heard worse things from others. i doubt she even remembers whatever you said, considering her only focus is volleyball and school."

"sometimes, i really hate how you're right," you grumble, starting to clean up your lunch.

aeri smirks, taking the last bite of her food. "which is pretty much all the time."

with aeri’s words in mind, you walk into the library a little bit after 3 pm to where you and jimin sat. as per usual, jimin was already there with her laptop out, typing away.

"hey," you say in a hushed tone as you sit down. "i swung by the campus cafe before heading here and picked up a little something for you." you hold out a brown paper bag across the table, containing a warm muffin.

"food isn't allowed in the library," she remarks, not even lifting her gaze from her laptop.

you inhale sharply, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. before you can pull your arm back, she reaches for the bag.

"but still, thank you. i'll save this for later," jimin looks up and offers you a nod with a ghost of a smile on her lips. “let’s get to work.”

around 30 minutes pass by and the silence has enveloped the two of you as it usually does in your meetings.

you stop your typing, that familiar feeling in your stomach urging you to break the silence. you find yourself wondering, what's the point? like aeri mentioned, jimin has probably heard worse things, and once this paper is finished, she'll likely forget all about you. after all, you're just another face in the crowd to her.

from the corner of your eye, you catch jimin glancing your way, noticing your sudden pause and distant expression.

“y/n,” she calls out, her voice pulling you back to the present moment.

you snap your attention to her. “yes?” you shake your head in an attempt to stop being swallowed by your thoughts. “did you say something?”

she raises an eyebrow, her gaze attentive. “that was the fifth time i tried getting your attention. are you alright?” you want to believe that there’s some sort of concern behind her question rather than just an act of common human decency.

“oh, yeah. my bad. i’m just tired. didn’t get much sleep last night,” you excuse. it wasn’t the truth but it wasn’t a complete lie either.

“that’s understandable, this semester is crazy,” jimin replies to you turning her focus back to her laptop.

"you're probably having the craziest semester out of any student here on campus," you remark, surprising yourself with the sudden courage to continue the conversation.

"what makes you say that?" jimin pauses in her work to look at you.

"i mean, i may not have the best knowledge of university sports, but even i know that being a team captain isn’t necessarily an easy responsibility. much less being the captain of a team with a national championship title under its belt," you explain. "plus, you have back-to-back classes from 8 am to 3 pm every day, and i assume you’re doing well in them, given the quality of your work in our shared class alone."

she lets out a quiet laugh - that was the first time you've heard it. "are you sure you’re not just making wild assumptions?"

your palms start to get sweaty, and you feel like you’ve definitely made a mistake. "i’m sorry-"

"i’m just joking," jimin interrupts you. "it’s absolutely not an easy schedule, but if you have to do it, you find a way. yizhuo and minjeong help me out a lot too."

"what do you mean 'have' to?" you silently curse at yourself for prying into her personal life.

"this is the most i’ve heard you talk, y/n," jimin says to you.

"i could say the same to you," you reply. "but, uh, don’t answer if you don’t want to, or if it’s too pers-"

jimin interrupts you once more. "it’s okay. i don’t mind. i prefer when people actually want to get to know me rather than making crazy assumptions that aren't true at all."

a twinge of guilt washes over you. even though you're disconnected from the campus social life, jimin's reputation has managed to reach your ears. many things have been circulated about her – from her attitude to her accolades, and even details about her love life, none of which appeared positive.

"back when i was younger," jimin begins, her vulnerability taking you by surprise, "my parents pushed me incredibly hard to excel in school. naturally, like most parents, they had aspirations for my success. they enrolled me in after-school tutoring to make sure i did better than all the kids in my grade. they also encouraged me to choose an extracurricular activity so that i’m not always buried in books. that's when i chose volleyball, obviously."

you absorb each word she says, intent on not missing a single one. here was yu jimin herself, an enigma of existence - simultaneously adored and despised. and now, right before you, she opens up and shares her story. the reason for her trust in you to this extent, allowing herself to be vulnerable, confuses you, yet you don’t mind at all.

“i have an older sister. she’s a hotshot lawyer now. she did well in high school and did very well in college unsurprisingly,” jimin shares and you notice a gleam of admiration in her eyes. “our parents never compared us to one another and we’re actually really close. besides yizhuo and minjeong, she’s one of the few people i can call my best friend.” you nod as she continues telling her story.

"my parents stopped pushing me so hard in high school," jimin continues, her eyes fixed on you to see if you’re still listening. you are. "they believed that i needed to find motivation within myself and take charge of my actions so that i wouldn't become overly dependent on them."

"so, no, my origin story isn't about parental pressure or living up to my sister's achievements. i believe i have to do well because... i want to. i have this belief that i'm destined for greatness, so i'll dedicate everything i can to achieving it,” jimin’s gaze turns serious. “even if it means having to deal with people who want to spread nasty rumors about me.”

you sit there in silent awe. you realize jimin was your complete opposite. jimin embodies a sense of ambition and dedication that you rarely exhibit. while you've often approached situations with passivity, avoiding confrontation, jimin radiates an unwavering pursuit of her goals.

the aspiration for greatness was something unfamiliar to you. your goals were straightforward – passing your classes, securing a well-paying job for the future, ensuring financial stability, and enjoying the company of your friends. as long as you had that, you were more than happy.

"what about you, y/n?" jimin's question breaks the quiet focus, both your laptops now lowered.

"what do you mean?" you ask, the confusion apparent on your face.

"i just shared something quite personal and vulnerable about myself. wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same?" jimin replies casually.

pausing, you contemplate your response. "i don't think i truly know myself."

jimin arches an eyebrow at your revelation. "what i mean is, i'm not sure who i am. throughout most of my life, i've mostly gone along with aeri, letting her lead me to new places and experiences. but i haven't really discovered a genuine passion for anything."

"i realize now how sad that sounds, especially to you, considering you're the complete opposite of that description," you continue, your voice steady. "but, despite it all, i'm still leading a pretty happy life. i've come this far, haven't i?"

jimin responds to your rhetorical question, her tone measured and thoughtful. "just because our ideals differ doesn't mean i can't accept your perspective. it's called empathy, y/n. i don't need to share your beliefs to understand where you’re coming from."

in that very moment, you feel the foundation of your assumptions about jimin, based on the rumors, begin to crumble.

"life isn't a competition, and you're absolutely right. if you're content and your actions aren't causing harm, doesn't that define a good life in itself?" jimin's words resonate with you.

as the sunset's warm glow graces jimin’s face, you find yourself thinking about how this girl in front of you has it all. no wonder she’s the topic of everyone’s conversations. her beauty is undeniable, she’s intellectually sharp, athletically skilled - she personifies an array of qualities that capture attention.

"thanks, jimin. your words mean a lot," you express, hoping she can hear the sincerity in your voice. "i've been wondering about something, though."

jimin responds, her curiosity piqued. "what's on your mind?"

"why did you feel so comfortable sharing that part of your life with me? don't get me wrong, i'm more than happy to listen, but we're practically strangers, and you opened up to me so easily."

jimin's gaze shifts toward the expansive windows. "like i mentioned earlier, it's a refreshing feeling when someone genuinely wants to know about my life, rather than blindly believing all those damaging rumors. believe me, i've heard them all, and most are far from pleasant."

before you could give her a reply, the librarian approaches your table. "excuse me, ladies. the library will be closing in 10 minutes. it's a good idea to start wrapping up and make your way back to your dorms," she advises with a warm smile, then walks away.

over the weeks you’ve been meeting with jimin in the library, you gradually get to know each other better. your talks shift from just focusing on the paper to real conversations. occasionally, you even end up talking more than working.

you find out that jimin is a big fan of anime. one of her favorites is "assassination classroom," and it made her cry. you’ve watched it before too, making you sob your heart out into your pillow after finishing it.

with a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lips, jimin confesses, "i've never really had the chance to explore many hobbies outside of volleyball. but i've always used anime to unwind and relax.”

you also learn more about her sister – you can't miss how her eyes light up whenever she talks about her. you discover that she has terrible eyesight and wears contacts every day since it would be impractical to wear glasses to volleyball practice.

you begin feeling a sense of connection as she opens up to you about her interests and her life. it's a side of her you never expected to see – a vulnerable, relatable side that defies the rumors and preconceptions you once held.

in return, you find that jimin learns more about you. you share that you and aeri have been best friends since childhood. during one conversation, you share a memorable experience from your past: the time you and aeri got lost on a mountain during a family vacation hike.

"how are you both still alive?" jimin questions, her words laced with a mix of humor and genuine shock.

"to this day, we still have no idea," you reply, chuckling at the expression on her face.

she learns that you’re an avid film watcher after you start giving her detailed film recommendations when she asked you what would be a good movie to watch for a girls night in with yizhuo and minjeong.

as you walk from your dorm to your 8 am class, which you share with aeri, jimin, and her friends, you pass by a group of students. normally, you would quickly walk past them, not caring about the nonsense they'd be talking about. however, that changed when they mentioned someone you knew.

"did you guys hear that jimin is sleeping with her best friend's ex behind her back?" the person who seemed to be the ringleader of the group shared, as the other students around them snickered. "isn't she such a backstabbing bitch? i also heard that the only reason she got a perfect score on that exam that everyone else failed was that she slept with that professor."

you slow your steps, listening to the lies spewing from their mouths. over the past weeks, you've learned so much about jimin, enough to know that none of what they're saying is true. you're extremely aggravated at their words. plus, who the hell has this much energy to be so negative even before 8 in the morning?

a part of you wants to ignore it and walk into your class. that would be the easiest option. haven't you always liked your life that way - easy and devoid of confrontation?

which is why you're extremely shocked when you find yourself standing in front of the instigator, going head-to-head with them.

"excuse me? have you ever heard of personal space?" they snide, making the other students around them laugh as well.

"have you ever heard of shutting the fuck up and minding your own business?” you don't know why, but the next sensation you register is solid bone connecting with your knuckles, knocking the ringleader out.

"does anyone have anything else to say?" you say through gritted teeth, the ache in your knuckles resonating alongside the rapid thumping of your heart.

the mouths of the students around the unconscious ringleader drop. before anyone can say anything, you hear someone's voice.

"y/n!" aeri yells and grabs your arm, dragging you away from the group of students and into a private hallway near the lecture hall. next to her is her partner for the paper, yizhuo, along with minjeong and, of course, jimin herself.

"what happened?" asks one person from the group. you're unsure who.

"are you okay?" says another person - you still don't know who's talking.

"why did you do that?" questions a third voice. you're wondering the same thing. everything was blurry, and it felt like you couldn't breathe. your chest was heavy, and the burning sensation in your knuckles was bothering you beyond words.

it's so early, just 8 in the morning, and here you were, out of your mind. they help you sit down on a bench.

"you three go to class," the fourth voice tells the others. "i'll handle this."

"are you sure?" you register a figure nod at the question and then hear footsteps walking away from where you were.

"y/n, you need to take deep breaths and calm down, okay? you're safe. nothing bad is going to happen to you right now," the voice assures. their words help you see clearly again.

with a shaky voice, you ask, "jimin? what are you doing here? you're going to be late for class."

"the lowest grade i’ve made in that class for the whole semester was a 98, i'm sure i can miss one lecture," she says jokingly, and you notice she's trying to lighten the atmosphere. "i never knew you had a solid punch like that."

"i didn't either," you let out a breath of disbelief. "something just came over me, and i couldn't stop myself."

"what happened? that's probably the last thing i thought you'd do," jimin asks, holding your hands to steady them, with a much looser grip on the injured one that you used to knock that annoying student out.

a moment passes before you try to explain. "they were talking... about you," you hesitate. jimin raises an eyebrow. "that person was saying terrible things about you, and they were all lies!" your voice gets louder. "all lies, jimin."

"i might not be yizhuo or minjeong, but after getting to know you these past 2 months, i felt like i had to do something. i wanted to defend you, even though you probably didn't need it," you ramble, not stopping. jimin listens carefully.

"i couldn't just walk away. i usually would, but... i couldn’t this time. they were saying horrible lies. it was so wrong," you exhale deeply, realizing you were holding your breath. "i hated hearing that about my friend."

before you can apologize for assuming your closeness, jimin's lips curl into a smile. "thanks, y/n. i really appreciate you standing up for me. i really do."

she looks you in the eyes, and you can feel the gratitude radiating from her. "i've grown thick skin to the rumors, and they don't bother me as much as they used to when i first started hearing about them, so you don't need to worry about me."

"still, i'm very grateful to know that i have a friend like you who would defend me to that extent. but next time, just ignore them. i wouldn't want you getting expelled from the university just because of those lifeless losers," she smiles at you, and you feel a tug on your heart.

you nod, not sure what to say. "my hand hurts so bad," you manage a laugh despite the pain.

"let's get you an ice pack from the clinic," jimin helps you up, going with you. she holds your hand all the way until the clinic staff hands you an ice pack, but you're too focused on your hurting hand to notice.

that day, jimin learns that while you label yourself as non-confrontational and passive, you’re empathetic, loyal, and kind.

you meet up with aeri in the cafeteria for lunch. she glances at your bruised hand and the icepack you hold in the other hand.

“hey, y/n, is your dad a boxer? because you’re a total knockout!” aeri laughs at her own joke.

“you’re not getting any of my lunch today,” you say with feigned annoyance.

“no! i’m sorry!”

the realization comes at you out of nowhere while you're in the library with jimin, finalizing the remaining parts of the paper. as you steal a glance over the edge of your laptop, you observe jimin with furrowed brows, her tongue peeking out in concentration, and her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. she tells you its because she couldn’t find her contacts this morning.

it’s raining outside with dark and gloomy skies, casting a dim ambiance over the library. despite it all, jimin shines in your eyes. it’s been like this ever since the incident. you’re extremely thankful that no person of authority caught wind of the situation. you're even more appreciative that despite the confrontation that led to you knocking out a fellow student, you weren’t expelled.

jimin has always possessed a beauty that captivates you. but now, you couldn’t see anyone else but her. whenever you're with her, your heart races, your hands sweat, and your stomach twists. you're not sure why. it's an uncomfortable feeling, yet you don't hate it. instead, you welcome it. you swear you can feel her eyes on you at times. or maybe it’s just sleep deprivation.

it’s when she calls your name, "y/n," you lift your gaze, meeting her eyes. they shine brightly despite the darkness in the building, her hair framing her face exquisitely. "i really liked your latest addition to our paper. i think it really captures what dr. kim is looking for," she says, a smile gracing her lips. in that moment, that’s when it hits you.

she really liked your work and you really liked jimin.

“aeri, i don’t know what to do," you muffle into your pillow. the two of you are currently in your dorm, a space free of roommates thanks to your parents' decision to splurge a little.

"just tell her you like her," aeri offers a solution to your current dilemma, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

"that's insane. i could never do that!" you shift onto your back, still laying in bed, and glance at aeri, who's absorbed in her phone and helping herself to snacks from your fridge.

"that's not insane. you want to know what's insane? walking up to a stranger and knocking them out before 8 in the morning. that's insane," aeri retorts.

you toss a pillow at her, not truly irritated because her point was pretty valid.

"y/n, just be honest with her. if she feels the same, great! if not, it's not the end of everything," aeri speaks with sincerity, finally raising her gaze. deep down, you acknowledge that aeri's advice is good, great even. it's also the most sensible approach.

you don’t listen to it at all.

with less than a week left before the final paper's due date, you have two more library meetings with jimin and see her in your english class every tuesday and thursday. despite these many chances to talk to her, you try to completely avoid her.

you fail in doing so. although you avoid her eyes during the 8 am class, rushing out with aeri to prevent any conversations, the final paper still needs to be finished.

this meeting feels reminiscent of the initial paper discussions, where conversations centered solely on the final paper. you avoid looking at her, which is out of the ordinary since you spent most of these meetings simply looking at her.

"are you okay?" jimin's face shows concern, her question directed at you.

"yeah, just feeling tired," you respond with the same excuse. it’s become a reflex at this point.

“alright,” jimin replies to what you assume was the end of the conversation. “so, can you tell me why you’re avoiding me?” damn.

“what do you mean?” you try and play it dumb, but even you couldn’t believe yourself.

"i'm not stupid, y/n. why are you so distant all of a sudden? i thought we'd moved past that after all this time," jimin studies you, her expression unyielding.

you quickly attempt to come up with a lie. "i'm sorry, jimin. i've just been swamped with finals from other classes, and my grades are really low. i need to do well on them to avoid failing," you deliver the excuse, hoping it sounds convincing enough.

fortunately, jimin seems to believe it, her expression easing. "i’m sorry for assuming it had something to do with me. i'm used to being at the center of problems most of the time,” there’s a hint of playfulness in her tone, an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

guilt engulfs you as you face her. you're strongly tempted to just tell her the truth.

"no need to apologize, jimin. it's not your fault at all. it's mine for procrastinating on my other assignments," you offer a smile.

that night, you struggle to fall asleep as you overthink the potential outcomes of confessing - or not confessing - your feelings for jimin. the most extreme scenario that haunts your mind is her hating you and refusing to speak to you ever again. you don’t sleep at all that night.

you're standing in line at the campus cafe, desperately in need of a caffeine boost before your 8 am class. your phone displays aeri's message specifying the coffee she wants. you try to blink away the sleepiness with little success.

"y/n?" a tap on your shoulder startles you, and you turn to find yizhuo and minjeong behind you in line.

momentarily taken aback, you don't respond immediately, processing which one of them tapped you.

"you look like you got run over by a truck. are you okay?" yizhuo's concern is evident.

"yiz, you can't just say that! i'm sorry, she doesn't mean it negatively, i promise," minjeong interjects, playfully slapping yizhuo's shoulder.

despite your fatigue, a soft chuckle escapes you at their antics. "it's alright, i understand. i pulled an all-nighter last night studying for an upcoming exam." the lies come more easily now.

"oh, yeah. jimin's told us that you've been working hard lately," yizhuo shares, prompting you to raise an eyebrow. jimin talks about you?

"jimin always talks about you! we had a movie night last weekend, and she made us watch a film because she said you recommended it," minjeong adds, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

"how did you guys like it?" you ask, still surprised that jimin talks about you.

"we loved it. you have really good taste!" yizhuo's enthusiasm is unexpected, especially before 8 am.

"you and aeri should join us one of these nights. jimin would love to have you over. maybe after finals or after our game on friday? we can order pizza and snacks for dinner," minjeong suggests.

“plus, it can be be a little celebration for submitting dr. kim’s final paper and surviving her class,” yizhuo adds.

minjeong's invitation sounds far more appealing than your usual friday night, which typically involves binge-watching anime or kdramas in your dorm, sometimes with aeri if she doesn't have a party to attend. "sounds great, just text me the details."

finally at the cashier, you place orders for both your coffee and aeri's coffee. after a short wait, you receive your drinks and wait for yizhuo and minjeong. together, you enter your 8 am english class and send a small smile toward jimin before taking your seat next to aeri at the back.

today marks your final meeting with jimin in the library for this paper. the paper is fully completed, and the only task left is proofreading the sections.

"jimin, i have a question," you begin.

"about the paper?" she looks up from her laptop, meeting your gaze. you still can’t decide if her love for eye contact is a blessing or a curse.

"no, not about the paper. i just want some advice."

"oh?"

"it's nothing too heavy, i promise." you briefly glance down at your laptop's keyboard before returning your attention to her. "have you ever felt scared?"

"many times, yes," she replies. "but i thought you said this wasn't going to get heavy?" jimin's tone carries a playful note.

"it won't! i was just curious… how do you get over fear?" you ask earnestly.

"well, if i’m scared and it's a matter of my own safety, i avoid it. i have too much to live for," jimin senses the seriousness in your tone and tries to lighten the mood. "but if the fear stems from the possibility of failing or not achieving something, i tend to just disregard it and overcome it."

"if i let fear dictate my actions every time, i wouldn't be here today. i probably wouldn't have even picked up a volleyball. i might've dropped out the moment people started saying hurtful things about me," jimin muses, delving deep into thought.

"yes, certain things can be scary, but it's scarier to miss out on opportunities because fear is holding you back," jimin concludes her response.

a moment of silence passes. "you could give a ted talk with answers like that," you quip.

she playfully swats your hand. "finish proofreading your sections. we're almost done with this paper."

two hours pass, and you lean back in your chair. "i close my eyes, and all i see are punctuation marks," you groan.

"well, here's some good news. we can email this to dr. kim tomorrow during her office hours and officially put our final paper for this class behind us," jimin's enthusiasm is evident.

"so, no more library meetings, huh?" you sit up straight.

"no, but we'll still be seeing each other often. are you coming to movie night tomorrow?" jimin questions, tidying up her side of the table.

"i am," you reply, closing your laptop.

"don't tell me you plan on treating me like a stranger after we submit this paper," jimin jokes, standing up and collecting her bag.

"i would never," you respond.

she chuckles at your remark before reaching into her bag. "are you hungry?"

you walk alongside jimin. "a bit. i'm heading to aeri's dorm for dinner. she cooked japanese food for us."

"i'd think you two were roommates," jimin tells you as she pulls a brown paper bag from her backpack.

"well, considering how often she's at my place, i can see why. but no, we're not. she lives right across the hall," you explain.

"here," she hands you the paper bag. "take this. the girls and i went to an off-campus restaurant for lunch earlier, and i thought of getting you something as a small thank you."

"thank you? for what?" you inquire while accepting the bag.

"for being an amazing partner on this paper, of course. i've got to go. yiz and i have plans. i'll text you tomorrow about when to submit the paper," she informs you.

assuming she's about to walk in the opposite direction, jimin surprises you by enveloping you in a warm hug. naturally, you reciprocate.

"i'll see you tomorrow!" jimin calls out, walking out of your sight.

at aeri’s dorm, you devour the food that she’s prepared for you. “this is so good. have i ever told you that i’m so glad you’re my best friend?” you tell her through bites of food.

“only when i cook for you. now, close your mouth and chew properly. i don’t know how to do the heimlich maneuver.” aeri looks at the brown paper bag by your feet and points to it. “what’s that?”

“i think it’s a dessert or something that jimin got me.” you notice the look on aeri’s face. “don’t even start. it was just a little thank you for helping on that final paper.”

“i didn’t say anything. i might need to get yiz a little something too, considering what a great partner she's been," she teases

“ugh, whatever.” you finish your meal and share the slice of cake jimin got you with aeri.

later that night, as you lie in bed, jimin's words echo in your mind.

fear holds you back. fear holds you back. fear holds you back.

you open your eyes to the grating sound of your alarm the next morning and see a notification from jimin.

yu jimin

hey, good morning

just a reminder to email your copy of the paper to dr. kim at 8 am!

have a great day ahead :)

y/n

good morning

will do

have a great day as well

before you leave your dorm, you open your laptop and schedule send your copy of the final paper to dr. kim for 8 am. 

making your way to class, you spot a poster on a campus bulletin board.

"i think fearless is having fears but jumping anyway." huh? your confusion lessens as you realize it's an ad for the swiftie club on campus. you can't help but question why they'd position their ad right next to jimin's volleyball photo.

before entering the lecture hall for your biology class, another banner catches your eye.

"do not be afraid." what's with all these posters? you realize you hadn't finished reading it. "do not be afraid… to join us in the bible study club!" why do all these clubs insist on placing their endorsements next to the volleyball team's photos?

you could barely focus during the biology lecture, only hearing fragments of the professor's words. that is, until the professor singles you out, "miss y/n, why are you afraid?"

"excuse me, professor?" to say you're surprised would be an understatement.

"i asked you a question," the professor's expression turns unpleasant. "why do cells degrade?" there's no doubt you're losing your mind.

thankful that you won't see jimin until later, you use your free time to calm down and regain your composure.

walking through the university building's halls, you accidentally collide with an enthusiastic student. "have you ever been rejected?"

"what?" you react with genuine surprise.

"we're conducting a focus group discussion for our thesis on people who've experienced rejection. if you fit the criteria, your participation would be appreciated," the student hands you a pamphlet.

"oh, no thank you." you brush past the dejected student. spotting an empty hallway bench, you sit down, putting your head into your hands. it's as if you're spiraling into insanity.

what exactly are you afraid of? rejection? embarrassment?

all your life you’ve done nothing but run away from your problems. always finding the easy way out of everything. you’ve never wanted to face any problem or challenge head-on, deeming them unworthy of the trouble and effort.

lifting your head from your hands, you slump into the bench, trying to break free from your unhealthy mindset. 

that’s when the realization finally comes to you.

jimin is worth it. she's worth every bit of trouble in the world. she's worth every second of your time. she's worth it all.

you rise from the bench, your feet moving faster than your brain. inside the university gymnasium, students stream out of the volleyball courts, signaling the end of the game. quickly heading to the back where the locker rooms are, you spot minjeong outside.

"y/n? what brings you here? i didn't see you during the game," minjeong questions, looking at your disheveled appearance.

breathless, you hadn't realized you were running. "not at the game…" you struggle for air, "jimin…" you hunch over, attempting to regulate your breathing. "where?"

minjeong places a hand on your back. "before you go looking for her, make sure you don't faint right now," she advises. it's amusing, really, the volleyball player who just finished a game telling you to relax.

"she's in the back of the locker room. she's alone in there since everyone else quickly left because it’s a friday night," minjeong informs you. "only athletes are allowed inside." a frustrated groan escapes you. "however, if it's important, i can pretend i never saw you go in," minjeong adds, a sly smile forming on her lips.

you've never set foot in the locker room before. the idea of being here seemed distant, even impossible. yet, you continue forward until you spot the one person who's been on your mind since the very first conversation.

"y/n? how did you manage to get in?" jimin's voice carries a mix of surprise and curiosity.

you're thankful for minjeong's advice to catch your breath. "minjeong let me in." jimin's face is flushed, an unmistakable sign that she gave her all on the court. despite the disheveled hair and the sheen of sweat, she remains the most beautiful person you've ever seen.

"what are you doing here?" jimin stands from the bench, turning toward you.

"i needed to tell you something, and i couldn't hold it back."

"what is it-"

"wait. let me say this all before you say anything else, or i might just black out and forget everything." you inhale deeply. "throughout my life, i've let fear dictate my choices. i've been nothing more than a coward. i couldn’t even take a stance in a tiktok argument. confrontation scared me, and i felt like i could never handle it."

"i was always scared," you press on, sensing jimin's eyes on you. "until i met you and got to know you." your mouth feels dry. "there are so many things i want to say, but i don't want it to sound corny," you chuckle, noticing jimin's smile forming.

"through you, i've learned the worth of ambition and dedication. you've shown me that fear is something that can help you become the person you want to be, not stop you from becoming it," you pause, then continue, "you've given me a new perspective i never thought i could ever have."

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to talk this long,” you feel relieved as you see jimin laugh with you.

letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “i like you, jimin. i have feelings for you.”

a beat passes and she doesn’t say anything. each second that goes by, you feel the dread within you grow more and more. as you were about to open your mouth to apologize, you feel jimin grab your arm. in the hush that follows your confession, you feel a rush of nerves coursing through your veins. jimin's grip on your arm is firm yet strangely comforting, and her intense gaze never wavers from yours. 

jimin's lips form into a gentle smile. "you really caught me off guard, y/n," she admits, her voice carrying a mixture of surprise and something you dare to hope might be fondness.

your lips quirk into a sheepish grin, your heart beginning to settle from the initial anxiety. "yeah, sorry about that. i didn't exactly plan to pour my heart out in the locker room."

jimin chuckles softly, her fingers lightly squeezing your arm. "well, i appreciate your honesty. it takes a lot of courage to say what you just did."

the warmth of her smile and the sincerity in her eyes encourage you. "you've been my inspiration for stepping out of my comfort zone," you confess, your voice steadier now. "i realized that i can't let fear hold me back anymore."

jimin's thumb draws a little pattern on your arm, sending shivers down your spine. "i'm glad to hear that. and you know what, y/n?" her gaze intensifies, a spark of playfulness dancing in her eyes. "i think it's only fair that i tell you something too."

your curiosity piques, your heart racing once again. "what is it?"

jimin's smile turns tender, and she takes a step closer, her free hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "i like you too, y/n. more than you can imagine."

you’re not afraid anymore. with a gentle yet firm pull, you bring her even closer to you. with a surge of courage, you close the distance between your lips.

the kiss is gentle, tentative at first, as if both of you are savoring the reality of this long-awaited moment. jimin's lips are soft and warm against yours, and her fingers find their way to your cheek, holding you tenderly. your heart thrums in your chest, the world around you fading into a distant blur.

as the kiss deepens, the initial hesitance transforms into unspoken understanding. lips meld with lips, sending electric sensations through your veins. it's an intertwining of emotions and desires, a connection formed by your honest words and the silent longing that brought you to this moment. 

when you finally pull away, your breaths mingle in the space between you. jimin's eyes are half-lidded, her lips still just a whisper away from yours. "i think you’re braver than you thought," she mumbles, her voice laced with newfound intimacy.

you share a breathless chuckle, your forehead resting against hers. “to be honest, i didn’t even think i’d make it this far.”

“are you guys done?” minjeong yells from the entrance of the locker room. “i’m hungry!”

both you and jimin share a laugh at minjeong. you reach for her bag and proceed to walk out of the locker room, your hands intertwined comfortably. together, you make your way to yizhuo's dorm, where aeri had already joined.

the soft glow of the television screen in the living room casts a gentle illumination on you and jimin, who are cozily seated on the couch. your hands are intertwined beneath a comfortable blanket, and a bowl of popcorn rests between you. the film playing on the screen has captured your undivided attention, while jimin is having trouble deciding either to watch the movie or you instead.

aeri and minjeong stand together at a distance, with yizhuo in her kitchen. the trio is busy preparing the remaining food to be served later in the night.

"i can't believe y/n actually did it. i can't believe your idea actually worked, minjeong," aeri whispers to the two girls.

"it was only a matter of time. i couldn't stand hearing jimin talk about her endlessly, looking like an oblivious lovesick puppy that was kicked onto the street," minjeong rolls her eyes at the memory of her friend. "i'm glad she finally admitted it to herself too."

"it wasn't minjeong's idea at all! it was my idea to go to the campus cafe that morning when you told us she'd be there," yizhuo points out. "plus, let's not take any credit from y/n. we may have given her some hope that jimin liked her, but at the end of the day, she was the one who made the move." aeri and minjeong nod, agreeing with yizhuo’s points.

“how’d you even know y/n was going to be at the cafe before class, aeri?” minjeong asks, finishing plating the dishes.

“she texted me she couldn’t sleep and asked if i wanted coffee before our 8 am class at 4 in the morning that day,” aeri explains.

“makes sense,” yizhuo points out.

the three girls make their way over to where you and jimin are seated, each holding plates of food in their hands. aeri takes the seat next to you, while minjeong and yizhuo settle on the floor amidst pillows and blankets, arranging the plates.

your gaze occasionally shifts from the movie playing to the people around you. there's a sense of contentment in this simple act – being in each other's presence, a shared moment that speaks volumes beyond words. back then, it was difficult for you to decide what you wanted and even what to think. now, looking around, you know for sure what you want.

you turn to face jimin when she squeezes your hand under the blanket. here she was, in all her glory. 

you inch closer to her, resting your head on her shoulder. despite the gentle embrace of that moment, an urge runs through you - to dismantle each and every single dreadful rumor about jimin. she was more than just the petty and nasty words of thoughtless individuals who thrived on idle gossip.

in your eyes, she embodied all that was beautiful and kind in the world. with her by your side, fear dissolved into insignificance, its grip over you gone.

“i really like you,” you whisper, only for her to hear.

“i know. i really like you too,” she whispers back to you.

additional notes: it's my first time ever uploading a piece on any platform! i hope you all enjoyed reading. i don't really know how to work tumblr, i just want to share my writing lol. your comments and feedback are much appreciated! but pls be kind, i am sensitive hehe

[joanquill]

Hey, I wanted to ask for prompt 24 from the Valentine’s Day event for William James Moriarty in romantic relationship with a fem!Reader (if that’s okay of course) and the type of the story being fluff. I hope I’m not too late with the request.

Anyway, have a good day and Happy (belated) Valentines Day 💕

"This reminded me of you,"

William James Moriarty

A/N: Sorry, I could not think of a good plot ^^" Hope you also have a good day/evening as well and late Happy Valentine's Day 🥰

Tag/s: Fluff, Fem!Reader, Established Relationship

"Hmm..." William muttered, tapping his finger on his crossed arms as he continued to analyze your favorite store's window display, contemplating what to get you.

"Uh... Will-kun?" Bonde called out, catching William's attention.

"As sweet it is for you to think so much about what to get (Y/N), don't you think standing there for an hour is too much?" he asked as Fred and Sebastian walked up to them, numerous boxes and shopping bags in their arms.

"Right... I apologize for making you all come with me," he sheepishly smiled, now seeing the numerous gifts he had prepared for you due to his indecisiveness.

"It's no trouble, nii-san. I was elated when you asked for our help," Louis reassured, a newfound confidence stirring in him to find your perfect gift.

"I must say, it is quite rare for you to ask for advice, let alone for romance," Albert smirked, making the tips of William's ear warm up.

A COUPLE HOURS AGO...

"What's with the sudden meeting?" Bonde whispered to the group as they waited for William's arrival.

"Will-kun looked serious, too..."

"There hasn't been much issue in the MI6," Moneypenny muttered, trying to think of the answer.

"Nor are there complaints from the director," Albert added, drinking tea for a change.

"There is also no new information about nobles committing crimes," Fred added, minimizing the possible answers as to why this meeting is being held.

"Perhaps he is leaving instructions before his leave?" Master Jack suggested, "If I recall, he will be leaving somewhere with Lady (Y/N) for Valentine's,"

"Didn't he already do that last week...?" Sebastian reminded, only for the group to grow quiet once again to think.

As the group continued to make their own conclusions, the doors suddenly opened as William walked in.

"Thank you for coming," he muttered, fatigue radiating off of him as he walked up to the front of the group.

"As you all know, next week I will be out of town..." he started, everyone awaiting his plans cautiously.

"...So I was hoping I would have your input on the possible gifts and activities I could prepare for her," he concluded, showing the plans he pinned on the board, listing your likes, dislikes, and other notes.

"Pfft-" Albert quickly covered his mouth, the wine in his glass shaking along as he strained his laughter while the rest of the group stared, dumbfounded.

"So... This meeting..."

"...Is just for your date with (Y/N)?"

William blinked back with an innocent smile.

"Yes? Did I not mention that?"

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

"Apologies. I did not mean to make you all uneasy," William apologized, remembering Sebastian and Bonde's strong reactions.

"Don't worry about that," Sebastian sighed, putting down the tower of boxes he was holding.

"But next time, please don't set up a whole meeting if you're asking for love advice," he added, making William shyly chuckle.

"Duly noted," William reassured, taking another look around at the store.

"Why not pick something that reminds you of her?" Bonde suggested, looking at all the various clothes and knick-knacks on display.

"We did," Sebastian reminded, pointing at the wall of boxes and bags, "And look at how that turned out," he grumbled as he stretched out his arms.

"Not to mention the various leaflets we got for dating spots," Master Jack chuckled, looking through the numerous pamphlets they gathered.

"(N/N) sure is lucky~," Bonde teased, making sure William heard him.

"Of course, nii-san is not the type of man who will get into a relationship half-heartedly," Louis proudly stated, making the heat on William's ears travel down to his face.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" Bonde grinned, making Sebastian smirk, seeing where this was going.

"Well, for instance, he would..."

"Just say the word, and we will leave," Albert reassured, putting a hand on William's shoulder as the group continued to banter.

On the other hand, William continued to face away from his colleagues, trying to focus on finding you a gift and ignore the growing heat on his face from embarrassment.

[candiedspit]

I Trip The Nighttime Fantastic

The morning after a show is always a frightful one. I smoke in bed as the sun ambushes the windows with her bright fist. Then, slink downstairs where Mariam awaits with her list of complaints, her pot of lukewarm coffee. A newscast on the television. I lay on the sofa as she badgers me, aims her gun and shoots. 

Why did I awake to find glitter in the bed? A smattering of glitter and the stink of cheap, godless perfume. And whose lipstick was on your cheek? It was the color of a bruise. And I only wear tulips, wines. And you know this. So there isn’t anywhere to turn, Roger–nowhere at all. 

And she will continue until either she realizes I have not heard–or rather, ingested–a word she has said, and sigh into her own oblivion, making a fuss about leaving the room, or until I shoot off my own gun and we go back and forth like tennis players. 

I love you, I’ll state and state until she throws a plate and then I’ll have to dodge the plate. And we’ll have sex until the evening. Hot, upset, confused sex. When we’re finished, the temperature of the house has risen several degrees and there is a scent which lingers, the scent of flesh. 

I don’t feel I know you, Mariam said once. Not the way I might know someone else. Some nights, there is a stranger here with me. 

Sometimes, I’m right as lemonade. I laugh like a schoolgirl, stuff boxes with flower heads, chop up the lettuce and prepare a large spread. I am fascinated, then. Nothing can hold my attention for very long but everything appears to have saturated overnight, steeped in a fantastic tea which accentuates the colors and the weight and the God. Mariam likes me when I’m like this. At least, for a moment. Then I start reciting rhymes for the ghosts in our yard and the neighbors sneer and I can’t stop electrocuting myself. Once, Mariam found me across the road confused on whether or not to cross. I would have stood there for the rest of my life had she not tugged on my shirt and brought me inside. 

Other times, I’m a dragonfly caught in the rain. I would not crawl out of bed if there was a parade outside. I am crippled by the slug of daytime. I want nothing. When people call, I tell them I’ve left. Mariam hates this, too. She hides even the trick gun. 

I’m a magician, you see. 

I draw the rabbit from the hat, slice the woman in half. I make girls levitate. I play tricks on the crowd; the quarter from behind your ear and the water from the ceiling. 

A few weeks ago, I felt the orchestra playing from behind my eyes. I could feel the green angels spinning around in my glass, and came home with a bouquet of flowers for Mariam from our neighbor’s garden. I did not sleep. I practiced my introduction again and again as the television mumbled to himself. I was certain I was going mad again. That night, the show was quite fantastic. The audience shuddered like livestock being driven to the slaughterhouse. And the applause came in waves. Mariam told me I was her lightning bolt, her one true silo. 

But the days wove into days and I grew increasingly frenetic. I could not be bothered to clean after myself so the house grew into a labyrinth of clutters. Forks where the soap ought to be. A shaving razor in the fridge. I shaved my head which Mariam shrieked about. But she couldn’t understand. Ideas crashed through my head like pianos from great heights. I slept with all of the girls at the club; I stayed awake for nine days straight, moving through the world as a saw moves through a massive tree. 

Let’s go to the sea, Mariam said on the tenth morning as I painted the kitchen a baritone orange. I had the idea after watching a cartoon the night before. 

What sea? I asked. There are no seas around here. 

It was true. I hadn’t seen the ocean since I was five years old. 

We could go to Ruislip, she said. And spend a long weekend there by the ocean. I think it might help. 

I had a second feeling, a sort of inkling. But I appreciated her effort at being spontaneous–more like a liquid and less like a solid–and packed bags with shorts and hats and books I’d been meaning to get through. And while we drove, I smoked and raved about the vermin in the grass, how the miniature always feeds into the massive. I realized we weren’t headed to Ruislip when the asylum pulled into view. 

Mariam had me committed for twenty one days. During that time, I barked at the staff and refused everything. I was given periodic sedation interludes. I slept for two days straight. And when I awoke, I realized I wasn’t sharing the room with a shadow but a seventy five year old lawmaker. I told the doctor nothing was wrong exactly fourteen times. And when I was finished, he told me I wouldn’t be there if that was the case. I beat the lawmaker at cards. 

I was meant to go back home–that is, Mariam was meant to come pick me up–in two days when I came upon my decision. I was never truly going to be able to leave, I realized. I was caught in an infinite cycle. I would go home and muck things up and end up back in the same position. I would end up delighted again. My train of thought would derail. I had already spent a lifetime moving from season to season. 

Anyway–I had a cure. 

Mariam picked me up and the house was cleaned, pristine. The kitchen painted a mint green again. We sat outside in the yard and smoked and shared a piece of fish. And when Mariam went to work the following morning, I left her a note on the fridge. 

Mariam, it read. 

I believe you’ll read this–or perhaps you’ll realize before you read this, some kind of psychic pang, a twitch in your hand–and while the rain might start, there will be a sense of relief. And that is why this had to happen. I’m tired of this mud, princess. I love you too much. Do you understand? 

I changed into my favorite suit and packed the gun in my belt. When I got to Heaven, everyone wanted to hear my stories.

[thetantiger]

Something About Moths

Word count: 2,812

Characters: Randolph (he/him), James (he/him), Tiao (he/him)

Some arc stuff has happened in rp and James is kind of having a bad time.

James rushed through Icecrown atop the back of his steed Corpsechill, cold wind blowing through his hair and Randolph hastily strung across his lap. His brother’s arm-- or what remained of it, as it had been severed at the elbow by Frissionas-- was bleeding heavily into the tourniquet Frost had given him. Tiao clung to James’s back atop the horse, helping keep Randolph steady.

“We’re almost to Argent ground,” James muttered. “We can talk there.” The contents of the sketchbook--which was still securely away in his bag--weighed heavy on his mind. The long string of proclamations of love in Tiao’s delicate, Pandaren-inspired handwriting, and the next page over, the papers in front carved into a little box where a glimmering ring sat. He’d read it over and over again upon Sjorkan’s boat, and memorized every single word, every stroke of the pen, every divet in the page.

“Sorry to cockblock ya’,” Randolph groaned as blood dripped from his mouth. He seemed delirious. “Congrats on the engagement, by the way.”

James grit his teeth. “Quiet, you. Save your breath.”

“Yer just tryna get me to shut up,” the rogue in his lap spat. “Fucker.”

“Perhaps I am,” the Knight retorted. Finally-- finally-- he spotted the waving of Argent Crusade banners in the wind.

Obviously, a Death Knight charging towards the front of their base atop a horse alarmed them. A guard stopped them; “Halt! What is your business?”

“My brother is injured,” James replied quickly, hauling Randolph off the horse. “And my partner, too. Just not as bad. Please, you have to help them.”

The Argent soldier took one look at the state of Randolph--bloodied and wobbly--and turned to notify the others with a shout. “Injured! We’re taking them in!” He hurried to help James support Randolph. “What happened?”

“Residuum,” James responded. “They were captured for days.”

“Starved,” Tiao timed in. “Beaten. Sleep deprived.”

“Right,” the guard said, picking Randolph up. Randolph scowled again, disliking how often people were simply carrying him. “I’ll take him to critical care. You two can go to a less intensive healing tent. The main thing your partner’s going to need is food and rest.” With that, he whisked Randolph away.

Just as he turned, James caught his brother’s gaze. It was not like back in Pyrewood. His blue eyes were fierce, determined, if withholding exhaustion. He was bent on staying awake. He was bent on not regretting the sacrifice he’d made.

James felt a pang of guilt in his chest as if he’d been struck with a blade. He turned to Tiao, and his heart broke a little more. Bruises decorated a few spots on the man. He almost wished it was possible to resurrect Frissionas, just to slaughter him again, and repeat that for each laceration or wound or skipped meal he’d inflicted on his Tiao. 

“Alright,” James sighed. “Let’s go.”

Hours passed. James ensured Tiao had received medical aid: bandages, a few holy spells, a good hearty meal and plenty of water. In classic Tiao fashion, his only complaint was they denied him any beer. And yet still, the topic of the sketchbook hung intimidatingly in the air like a noose awaiting him to place his neck into it. He knew the others wanted him to discuss it, but he needed Tiao in his right mind first. Sure, he was not nearly as woozy as Randolph had been, but he wasn’t taking that risk.

In the meantime, after a nice change of clothes given charitably to him by the Argent Crusade, James whisked over to the tent that was keeping his brother.

It seems the swarm of priests and paladins eager to heal him had died down. One healer stayed by his side-- a Draenei shaman, as a matter of fact-- who looked up at James, noticed the look on his face and immediately left the tent as if to give the brothers room to talk.

“Randy?” James asked almost shakily. “How ya’ doin’, buddy?”

“Like I said earlier-- I’ve been better,” Randolph quipped. They’d cleaned his beard of crimson and properly slowed if not stopped the bleeding from his arm. “Wish I could take a shower, though.”

“Yeah, I feel you.” James sat in a nearby chair and folded his hands, propping his elbows on his thighs and staring at the floor. He noticed the chair rapidly begin to frost over beneath him and sighed.

“That was, um-..” Randolph shrugged nonchalantly. “That was scary.”

“I’m sorry,” James blurted out. “I should’ve-.. I should’ve told you. And Tiao. Or-... really anybody. About Frissionas.”

Randolph peered at him quizzically, and attempted to prop himself up in his bed, but seemed to decide against it.

“...He was my ex,” James admitted. “I.. did things to get out of the relationship that I’m not proud of. He used to hit me. It’s stupid, I know. I should’ve said something. I guess he still had a grudge against me. And then I got you guys involved. …I’m sorry.”

Randolph stared at him for a moment, his expression swapping between a few different emotions. And then, finally, he raised his remaining hand to point at James. “....Y’know what? FUCK you, James!”

James flinched. I am a Knight. I shouldn’t flinch. But he did anyway, as if Randolph had physically struck him.

“I mean- for real, you pull this-- ’I’m sorry’ bullshit on me? Fuck you! You sit here and you’re all like, oh my god I’d die for you Andro, or oh my god I’d die for you Tiao, or oh my god I’d die for you Randolph which you HAVE! And then as soon as anybody turns around and is willing to do the same shit for you you can’t handle it!” Randolph settled again, his brows furrowed. “You’re such a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know? You fucking die for me and you’re permanently changed as a result and as soon as I make the choice to do the same to you you’re here groveling because-- because what, some fucking shit elf got mad at you enough for a relationship that happened years ago to join some fuckin’ rogue Knight group?! Are you kidding me?! You just told me he used to hit you and you’re here like you’re sorry for not saying anything? You dumb motherfucker.” 

James stared at him, dumbfounded. Speechless. Randolph certainly had a very, very weird way of putting things sometimes.

Randolph grumbled. “You know damn well that if you asked me to go back out there and give up my right arm for you this fucking second I’d do it. That’s all this was-- you didn’t ask for me and Tiao and Mythodoran and Sanlasteron to get involved but we did because we love you. So go fuck yourself with that pity me bullshit. I still have all of my right arm, if I ever hear you talking about yourself like that again so help me Light I’ll crawl myself out of this fucking bed and sock you in the goddamn mouth.”

The younger brother finally relented and just let that sit for a moment. James didn’t reply for a while-- he wasn’t sure how.

Randolph sighed. “You need to talk to Tiao, man. He would not shut up about that book.”

“Thank you,” James said, and was shocked at how shaky he sounded. He stood up, and put a hand on Randolph’s shoulder, desperately trying not to break down right then and there.

Randolph literally scoffed at him, and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

The Knight stayed there for a moment. He knew Tiao was waiting for him in the other tent but memories rushed back to him in an instant. The man in the bed before him was grown now, a person of his own with his own partner and life and circle.

But every now and again, when James looked at him, he saw the little boy that followed him around everywhere years and years ago. He saw the little boy that waited patiently for James to come home and carve him a new toy. He saw the little boy that never knew James was giving up scraps of food so Randolph wouldn’t go hungry and James wouldn’t have had it any other way. The little boy that simply accepted when James asked him to stop calling him ‘sissy,’ who nodded and just said ‘okay, I’ll just call you bubby then’ and moved on with his blissful life. The little boy that was the only reason the army of the Forsaken had had the pleasure of taking James out, otherwise James might’ve done the job himself sooner. 

James swallowed the sob rising in his throat and nudged him. “Well, get better soon. Can’t have you bleeding anymore-- you’ve made a mess of my tabard.”

Randolph cackled as James headed for the door. “Hey, fuck you!” He snickered, and just as James lifted his boot to step out, added on; “And, uh.. And I love you too, man.”

James smiled, and quickly left the tent, trying not to bawl at the foot of his brother’s bed.

Soon enough he found that his next conversation was not going to be much easier on the heart. When he entered his and Tiao’s tent he found the man had just finished a bowl of something and seemed to sort of be waiting on him.

“The food good?” James asked.

“Yeah, but they won’t give me more,” Tiao said, seeming slightly annoyed at the notion. “Apparently giving starving people a fuckload of food might, like, kill ‘em or something. Shame-- I gotta work on my gut now.”

“What’s wrong with your gut?” James asked, sitting next to him.

“What’s wrong is that it’s gone!” Tiao complained. “Having a gut is a symbol of strength and beauty in Pandaria. And right now, I’m the ugliest bitch alive!”

“Don’t say that,” James said, lightly smacking him in the arm. “I-.. I think we need to talk.”

“About the book?” Tiao’s demeanor suddenly changed into a much more sheepish one, fidgeting with his hands almost in an instant and sort of looking around. “I- well. I meant every word I said.”

James frowned at him. “I think there’s things that you need to know about me that might make you reconsider.”

Tiao looked at him with alarm. “What would make me reconsider something like that?”

The Knight paused, and tried again to explain himself. “I lied to you. I- well- I didn’t-.. I never said anything. I knew Frissionas. Way back in the day.”

Tiao’s mustache wriggled. “Yeah, he talked about you strangely.” His tone gave off that he was not satisfied with whatever Friss had said.

“I-.. him and I used to be- together,” James continued. “We kept it from the Blade.. from everyone. Even Frost. I never told anybody-- not you, not Randolph.. I was worried what the Ebon Blade would think. Two Fourth Generation Knights.. two men. It only got worse when he-.. when he took advantage of that.”

Tiao’s brown eyes suddenly lit up with concern. “What happened?”

“He knew I couldn’t go to anybody so he started saying things. Saying really, really awful things to my face and then that escalated because I would scream back and one day he just smacked me in the face.” James sort of shrugged. “I was a Knight. I should’ve just taken it. It should’ve been fine. And then he just kept doing it whenever he wanted to get me to shut up.”

Tiao already looked as if he had something to say. “James-”

“And the worst part is I never even told you,” James continued on, feeling his hands shake. “You told me about the Brotherhood. You told me about how you used to kill people for a couple of copper and how you got roped into it after the riots and how- and how you couldn’t even-- c-could barely sleep at night. And I fucked around on Frissionas because I wanted out so, so bad and I didn’t even have the decency to tell you until now. It didn’t mean fucking anything to me, it was just once and I was just so stressed out, but I know what Khoreeld did to you and how he broke your trust and I-..” James held his face in his hands, icy tears having already escaped from his eyes. “And I thought I was breaking your trust too. And I did. And I’m sorry.”

The Brewmaster stared at him for a long time. Slowly, a warm hand came around him, pulling James closer to him and allowing the Knight to lean his head against his shoulder. “It’s okay, James,” Tiao said in the gentlest voice he’d ever heard. “That was my prerogative. To tell you about the Brotherhood. When I told you that, I didn’t expect you to repay me. You weren’t ready to open up. That’s okay.” He sighed heavily. “You know, you told me something one day that permanently rewired how I thought of myself. And I think, as much as it sucks as a statement, you really need to hear it, too.”

“And what’s that?” James’s voice was nearly a whimper.

Tiao grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him in his seat to face him, looking him in the eye. “You, James, were abused. You are a victim of abuse and you are coping with the abuse in ways that are very common. It’s okay that you repressed it. But I’m glad we got it out now.”

James nodded, reaching to wipe the tears streaming down his face, but Tiao nudged his hand away, swiping away at them with his own thumb instead.

“What you did and what Khoreeld did are two completely different things. You were trapped and hurt and you had no way of getting out. Like you said, you couldn’t tell a soul. Khoreeld just didn’t give a fuck. I am never, ever, going to judge you, a person who has been, again, abused, about how you handle it, nor do I even want to.” Tiao stood and nudged James to get him to follow suit, leading him further into the tent. “Come here. I think you need to unwind.”

The two of them paused at the foot of another bed and Tiao crawled into it, sighing happily and then patting the space next to him. As much as James had missed him the past few days, alarm creeped up his spine. “Tiao-” he stammered. “Not tonight. You need to heal up.”

Tiao looked at him for a moment as if perplexed. “What? No. No- that’s not what I meant, I’m so sorry if it came off that way. I meant you need to lie down. Knights don’t need physical rest but you certainly need it mentally. I was suggesting we cuddle. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh-.. n-no, it’s okay,” James replied sheepishly, appreciating that clarification and crawling into bed beside him. He curled up next to him, Tiao’s arms encircling him and holding him to his warm chest. As someone who’s own heart no longer beat, James cherished the comforting rhythmic thump of Tiao’s.

After a moment, the monk spoke again. “...If you don’t have an answer.. that’s okay. I don’t expect you to right now.”

“What?” James looked at him, a little dumbfounded. “What else could my answer possibly be? Yes-- a million times, yes. I just- I just thought you should know those things first.” He shifted slightly. “If you need to reconsider, that’s--”

James was interrupted as Tiao’s hands came up to his chin and brought his lips to his own. He felt the ice within him spike intensely as he snuggled a little closer to Tiao, relaxing into his consistent warmth. He thought, distantly, that he described this effect to Cryagosa and she joked about something involving moths and flames, but didn’t care to remember it at this moment. He felt comfortable with Tiao, always. Even in a place so unfamiliar to the both of them.

His internal dialogue raised a finger. We met Tiao in Icecrown, and now we’re engaged to Tiao in Icecrown.

Hmm.. I can live with that.

After him and Tiao had kissed, slowly and calmly, for several minutes, the monk finally pulled away and then just sort of looked at him. A fond smile spread across his face and his light brown eyes spoke more words than he could ever hope to fit on a page. James felt tears prick at his eyes again and ducked his head, nestling in the space between Tiao’s shoulder and neck.

Tiao’s hand traced up and down the Knight’s spine. “I don’t need to reconsider. What I do need is for you to stop thinking so poorly of yourself.” He flashed a grin. “That’s my fiance you’re talking about, now.”

James chuckled, and then pulled him a little closer.

[merlinisnotover]

Suppressed Suffering

Whumptober Day 15

Merin trudged up to the Prince’s room, carting his highness’s breakfast, richer than even a feast day in Ealdor, as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. He had been up late researching the latest magical malady that Merlin would have to save the kingdom from — with no recognition of course — with Gaius, and now he could barely stay upright. 

He kicked open the door with one boot and flung himself into the room. “Rise and shine! Your kingdom awaits, Sire!”

Arthur groaned from amidst his enormous bed and threw a pillow vaguely in the direction of the door, which missed him entirely. 

Merlin set the tray on the table and crossed to the window to throw open the curtains. 

Arthur had not even opened his eyes. 

“Up you get, lazy bones,” Merlin said before yanking the blankets off of Arthur.

“Merlin!” 

“You have a meeting with the king, wouldn’t want to be late, would you?” Merlin took a bite of one of the fruits from the perpetually full bowl on Arthur’s table.

“Ah, shite, alright, fine I’m up.”

Arthur took a few bites of the food and then let Merlin manhandle him into a clean tunic and tidy his hair. “Off you go.”

“Don’t forget, my bed needs new linens and my hearth needs swept —.”

“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin said, nudging him out the door, “I do know how to do my job.”

“Could have fooled me,” Arthur snorted. “Well then you have so much free time, you can muck out the stables, too.”

The door closed behind the prince and Merlin glared at it before turning to strip the bed of the perfectly clean linens. 

“Muck the stables, Merlin!” he grumbled to the empty room. “That’s a reasonable task to give the prince’s manservant! I see no problem here, it’s not like you have a whole other job as a physician’s apprentice on top of your actual duties as a manservant!”

He shoved the linens into a basket and picked up the hearth brush and began to beat the stones aggressively. 

“He has no idea what my job is, he just spews little tasks like he doesn’t have stable boys and laundresses and cooks and all sorts of other servants who are ready to jump at his smallest gesture!” 

The hearth wasn’t clean by any means but Merlin decided he was done with kneeling on the stone and tossed the brush back into the box. 

“I’m a man servant. Man. As in, a servant to his person! And yet where is he? Gone. And leaving me a list of other people’s jobs to do! Clotpole. I should quit.”

“You wouldn’t,” Arthur said. 

Merlin jumped and looked towards the open door. 

“How long have you been there?”

Arthur just raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” Merlin asked.

“Do you have a problem with how I conduct my household, Merlin?”

Merlin raised his own eyebrow.

“Yes, I do believe I got the idea. That was quite the monologue you had going on there. Do you rehearse often?”

“Prat,” Merlin huffed, pushing past him to collect the breakfast tray. 

“Ah ah, if you’re so eager to serve my person , you can leave that and come to the meeting with the king.”

“No,” Merlin whined. “Arthur!”

“No complaints. Come along. And get my circlet. You forgot it this morning.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and snatched the circlet, jamming it onto Arthur’s head roughly.

“Sire,” he bowed mockingly and let Arthur walk in front of him into the corridor once more. 

Merlin followed. As he always would.

[siythn]

Lover (Feat. Yuji Itadori) [Limited Edition CD]

YUJI X READER! Moving in with your boyfriend was a heavy task. To moving boxes, unpacking them, you knew the long awaited chore was doomed from the start. Although, sharing food and a kiss at the end seemed like a good reward. ❝WE COULD LEAVE THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS UP TILL JANUARY. THIS IS OUR PLACE, WE MAKE THE RULES❞ ᥫ᭡ LOVER; MASTERLIST

The sleek door clicked shut behind you, taking a deep breath you let the scent of fresh paint fill your lungs. Boxes were stacked haphazardly around the small living room, ranging from big to small.

It was the result to the long day of moving you and Yuji had just endured. Despite the exhaustion creeping up, you couldn't help the bubbling excitement at the thought that you and your boyfriend were finally moving forward and starting this new chapter together.

"Well, here we are," Yuji said, setting down the last box and wiping the sweat from his brow. His eyes sparkled with the same excitement you felt. "Our own place."

You smiled at him with your heart beating faster than normal. "I can't believe we actually did it. First apartment."

Yuji walks over and wraps you in a strong hug from behind, rocking the two of you back and forth before pressing a soft kiss to your head. He moves to nuzzle his in the crook of your neck, letting out a soft hum. “Yeah, it's amazing. I can't wait to make so many memories here with you."

Blushing at his words, you redirect your eyes to the front of you while leaning to put a bit of your weight onto his, sending a silent message that you agree. The more you start to take in the new space filled with boxes, the excitement is soon overran by overwhelm.

It had been a journey in itself to pack all your belongings. It was fun at first with motivation still high, but when it wore off, the laziness kicked in you in the ass. You couldn’t be more appreciative for Yuji who didn’t mutter a word of complaint when you asked for help; rather finding it fun since in his words, it was more time the both of you spent together.

Ironic since you both were moving in together.

"Where should we start?"

"How about we tackle the kitchen first?" Yuji suggested, lifting his head to look towards the nearby empty cooking area. In doing so, his pink hair tickled the back of your neck; slightly making you squirm in his hold. He chokes out a laugh, releasing you to step back. "That way, we can at least make ourselves a cup of tea or something."

You nodded and without a word moved around the huge boxes to find the labeled “Kitchen” in thick black sharpie, likely in messy handwriting considering your boyfriend packed most of the kitchens essentials.

After a minute or two of rummaging and searching, you find it buried next to boxes twice its size. You spare a desperate glance to find your boyfriend already busy unpacking what looks like plates covered in plastic wrap. Letting out a grunt, you pick up the heavy box, being careful not to drop it too roughly as you settle near him.

Noticing your presence, he gives you a quick smile before continuing his menstruations, stacking said plates by size. Seeking the clear urgency to finish up, you leave to yourself. Grabbing the box cutter found in the middle of the two of you, cutting the heavy cardboard box—you start on your task.

The both of you continue the long process of unpacking and unwrapping the fragile items. Yuji occasionally having to stop a to assist you with grabbing heavy materials; even with your pleas that you could do it yourself. You eventually gave up once it set in that he was intentionally doing it to poke fun at you.

Once he’d finally seemed accomplished with teasing you, the pink-haired male let you finish up the last two boxes that you had grabbed earlier, him following suit with one box. The silence that followed wasn’t one uncomfortable, you found the clinking of glass and porcelain to be comforting in a sense.

“Babe?”

You look up, stopping your movements to put plates the cabinets. You see the boy adorning a huge grin on his face, holding up an old, mismatched set of mugs you had insisted on keeping, much to his amusement.

"Really? These are ancient," he teased, holding up a chipped mug with a faded cartoon character on it, turning it around to peer at it closer.

"They're vintage!" you defended, playfully swatting at his arm before trying to grab the dish. His response was using his height to raise the cup further from your reach. "And they have sentimental value."

He grinned till it reached his eyes, setting the mug aside carefully. "Alright, alright. We'll keep them."

As the kitchen began to take shape, you couldn't help the emotion that ran up your throat. It wasn't perfect—not even close, but it was yours. It was a home for two lovers to share. The excitement of building a place of comfort together, one box at a time, made the moment special.

After a hour or two of taking essentials out of boxes and putting them away, the kitchen looked somewhat complete. Sure, it was missing some things to truly bring it to life, but it was enough. Plus, you had been throughly exhausted. The heavy workload clearly had an effect on your body with how it ached.

You collapsed onto the cold wooden floor, surrounded by boxes as Yuji joins you, his energy as boundless as ever as he rests his head against your lower thigh. "I think we've earned a break. How about some dinner?" he suggested, peering up to see your answer.

You looked around at the chaotic state of the apartment. "I don't think we'll be cooking tonight. How about we order some takeout?"

Yuji's eyes lit up at the mention of food. “Perfect. Let's make it a picnic on the floor."

You laughed at the idea at first. Using the opportunity to tease the male knowing you’d be helping him not a minute later. Quickly ordering from your favorite takeout place, you waited for the food to arrive as Yuji pulled out a bottle of sparkling water and two of your "vintage" mugs.

"Cheers to our new home," he said, clinking his mug against yours.

"Cheers," you echoed, trying not to spill any water onto yourself with the smile plastered onto your face.

When the food arrived, you spread out a plaid blanket with two pillows to sit upon. The takeout took up more than two quarters of the bedspread, but the two of you were pretty big on the cuisine. It had been one of the reasons why you bonded so well. Although it never stopped Nobara from comparing the two of you nonstop.

As you both dug in, Yuji looked around the room, his expression thoughtful as he swallowed his food. "You know, I always dreamed of having a place like this. Somewhere cozy—with someone I love."

You smiled, pausing to softly squeeze his hand for a moment. "Me too. And now we get to make it our own."

He nodded with wrinkled eyes. "Yeah. I just can't wait enough more. I mean it."

It’s safe to say the two of you spent the next hour eating and talking about your plans for your new life together. Yuji's excitement was contagious as he described the cute little touches he wanted to add to each room, from fairy lights in the bedroom to a cozy reading nook by the window.

"We should definitely have a plant or two," he said, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "They'll make the place feel alive."

You laughed, loving his passion. "Agreed. Maybe we can even start a little herb garden in the kitchen."

Yuji's face lit up with delight. "Yes! That sounds perfect."

As the meal came to an end, you both leaned back against the wall, belly’s full and happy. The weight of your boyfriend’s head on your shoulder didn’t feel uncomfortable; more of a familiar sensation. Yuji glanced at the boxes still strewn around the room and then back at you. "You know what this place needs right now?"

"What?" you asked, curious.

"A little bit of dancing," he said with a mischievous grin.

You laughed, shaking your head. "We don't even have any music."

He pulled out his phone and quickly found a playlist of your favorite songs. "Problem solved," he said, standing up and offering you his hand.

You recognize the song from the first beat, Lover. If you and Yuji were to have a song dedicated to your relationship, it’d be that. You remember the memory of it playing at a popular bar, and him insisting on the two of you slow dance even though you were “just friends”.

The song held memories of the two of you sharing a special connection through music, and rather now too—since both of you could relate to the lyrics on having a new place all to yourselves; while being lovers.

It might be corny, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You took it, feeling a urge of affection for this wonderful, spontaneous man, that you had the pleasure to call yours. As the music started to play, Yuji pulled you into his arms, and you began to sway together in the middle of your new living room.

The song was slow and sweet as always, and you let yourself get lost in the moment, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Hiding your face against his neck, you hid your smile against it. Yuji's excitement was palpable, and it made your own heart race.

"You know," he murmured into your ear, "dancing with you like this, in our own place. . .it's like a dream come true."

You took your head out of his shoulder to look up at him, feeling the rush of a blush coming. "For me too, Yuji. This is perfect."

As the song changed to a more upbeat tune, Yuji twirled you around, making you laugh with delight while almost tripping on your feet. You danced around the room, weaving between the boxes, you and your boyfriends laughter echoing off the bare walls. It didn't matter that your furniture wasn't set up or that you were surrounded by unpacked boxes. In that moment, you had everything you needed.

Yuji pulled you close again, body’s touching as he cups your face with his calloused hands. "I love you," he said, pausing for a moment to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “Like, so much.”

"You’re such a romantic," you giggled, moving one of your hands that rested upon his neck up to his pink hair; intertwining some of the soft strands with your fingers.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips were soft and warm against yours, moving gently as if savoring the moment. You could feel the subtle pressure of his hand at the small of your back, drawing you closer. The kiss was unhurried, each second stretching out as your breaths mingled. As you pulled away, your lips tingled from the lingering touch.

"We're going to make so many amazing memories here," he whispered as you felt him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, heart full. "Of course we will, just the beginning.”

The night continued with more dancing, more laughter, and more dreams shared. Eventually, as the excitement of the day caught up with you, you both decided to call it a night. You made a makeshift bed out of blankets and pillows on the floor, snuggling up together.

As you lay there, wrapped in Yuji's arms, you felt his steady heartbeat against your back. His arm was draped over your waist, holding you securely yet gently. His breath was warm against the nape of your neck, and his presence enveloped you like a comforting blanket. The gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a sense of peace, the quiet of the room punctuated only by the soft rustling of sheets as you both settled into the embrace.

"Goodnight, baby," Yuji whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your head.

"Goodnight, Yuji," you replied, your eyes closing as you drifted off to sleep.

[yhwhrulz]

Today's Daily Encounter Friday, March 8, 2024

Fix Your Thoughts On…

"And now, brothers, as I close this letter, let me say this one more thing: Fix your thoughts on what is true and good and right. Think about things that are pure and lovely, and dwell on the fine, good things in others. Think about all you can praise God for and be glad about."1

There was a lady who lived alone in a suburban apartment complex. Upset at the noise from the adjacent apartment that she claimed was disturbing her, she immediately picked up the phone and called her landlord. "You need to get up here right away," she told him. "There is a huge party going on next door, and I want it to stop!" Worried about the idea of losing one of his tenants, the landlord hurried up to the woman's apartment. The woman was eagerly awaiting his assistance and stood there in her open doorway tapping her fingers on the door. The woman invited him in and proclaimed that this was the third time her neighbors had thrown a party this month and that this one was worse than the others. The landlord listened closely but could not hear even the slightest sound penetrating the wall between her and her neighbor's apartment. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I cannot hear anything." "Well," she explained, "You're not listening close enough. If you will go into the bathroom, shut the door, and hold this glass to the wall, you can hear nearly every word they say!"2

If I were to ask your spouse or best friend, would they say you spend more time complaining or praising? Honestly, I think those close to me right now would say I have come a long way in learning how to focus on the good in others, but their answer years ago would have probably been much different. I used to spend more time focusing on the negative in others than the positive, or I focused on what was missing instead of what was already there. The good thing is that I was aware of it, wanted to change my thinking, and did the work to fix the problem. It was not easy, but intentionally practicing being thankful to God and others was huge in helping with this process. I am sure there are always things we can complain about if we are looking for them, but if we stop looking for the bad and start focusing on the good, you become a much happier person.

God tells us to be thankful numerous times in the Bible, but I love today's verse because it encourages us to change our thinking. If we focus our thoughts on the good things in others and on all the things we can praise God for, I think we will notice our complaints or negative thoughts diminish as a result. When our hearts and minds are cleared of the negative, we will have clarity to see the good God is doing in us, in those around us, and in the situations we face. What are your thoughts fixed on today?

Suggested prayer: Dear God, I ask that you clear the negativity from my mind and heart. Help me learn to focus on the good things in others and show my appreciation wherever possible. You have done, and continue doing, so much in my life that I can praise you for. I choose to fix my thoughts on these things and, in doing so, bring glory to you. Thank you for hearing and answering my prayer. In Jesus' name, amen.

NOTE: If you would like to accept God's forgiveness for all your sins and His invitation for a full pardon Click on: http://www.actsweb.org/invitation.php. Or if you would like to re-commit your life to Jesus Christ, please click on http://www.actsweb.org/decision.php to note this.

Daily Encounter is published at no charge by ACTS International, a non-profit organization, and made possible through the donations of interested friends. Donations can be sent at: http://www.actscom.com

ACTS International P.O. Box 73545 San Clemente, California 92673-0119 U.S.A.

Phone: 949-940-9050 http://www.actsweb.org

Copyright (c) 2016 by ACTS International.

When copying or forwarding include the following: "Daily Encounter by Richard (Dick) Innes (c) 2005-2023 ACTS International 1. Philippians 4:8 (TLB). 2. Quoted in "Are We There Yet? A Journey from Grumble to Humble", a VBS kit (Promise Publishing, Inc., Mt. Juliet, TN: 2002), Adult Manual, p. 29.

Today's Encounter was written by: Crystal B.

[seijorhi]

Echoes

i am extremely late with this spooktober fic but... at least it's here ghfjdkfhgjf

i hope y'all like it! <33

Sano family x female reader

w.c 6.7k

tw: yandere themes, mentions of blood/gore, character death, supernatural themes, dub-con (kinda? not in a smut way tho)

There’s a reason why the asking price for the old house at the end of the lane is so cheap. 

Why it’s sat on the market for near-on three years, untouched. A reason why the real estate agent, with her perfect hair and painted red smile, falters ever so slightly when the topic comes up.

“Before you decide whether you want to submit an offer, you should know that this house it– it has… a history.”

In hindsight, perhaps it’s your own fault for not prying deeper. You didn’t want the details, the ghost story. With an inheritance you gained too young, and grief still too raw, you lied, and told her you knew. 

You liked this house, with the trees in the garden and its quaint little kitchen. 

What harm could the past ever bring?

—

“That’s the last one, yeah?” 

You nod, setting the box down in what will be your living room, “That’s it.” Your whole life, everything you own, packed up into boxes now scattered throughout the otherwise empty house.

Yuzuha sighs, rolling her shoulders as she leans against the kitchen countertop, surveying the mess that awaits you. Then, she glances back at you, “You sure you don’t want me to stay? I don’t mind helping build furniture or unpacking stuff.”

If you let her, she’d probably call up her brother and rope him into helping the two of you as well. Not that Hakkai would take much convincing. 

And while you can’t imagine that muddling through indecipherable assembly instructions or diving into the very same boxes she helped pack is anyone's idea of a fun Friday night activity, Yuzuha would do it gladly, without complaint. All night, if that’s what it took. 

If that’s what you wanted. 

You shake your head and offer her a small, tired smile, “Nah, you’ve done plenty, Zu. I appreciate it, really.”

She lifts an eyebrow, “You’re gonna spend the night by yourself in this big, empty house?”

“Considering I bought it, yeah, that was kind of the idea,” you laugh.

Yuzuha doesn’t look sold on the idea. Then again, she hadn’t been sold on the whole moving thing to begin with, and for that matter hadn’t been shy about telling you. But if there’s one thing you’re grateful for, it’s that despite that, she’s the last person who’ll ever tell you that what you’re doing is the wrong way to grieve.

And so she nods, pulls you into a close hug. “… Love you,” she whispers, and you squeeze her back just as tight. For a while, the two of you stay like that, neither saying a word. 

With Yuzuha, you don’t have to. 

Eventually, the two of you part and she makes you promise, hand in hers, that you’ll call if you need her. 

The house feels infinitely emptier once she’s gone. The bedroom you’ve taken up residence in has your bed set up at least, a suitcase stuffed with essentials and clothes for the next few days propped open by its foot. 

You order pizza for dinner because it’s easy, sitting cross legged on the floor of your new home with an open bottle of champagne that the real estate agent left. Tomorrow you’ll begin the task of unpacking and settling in, a slow process that’ll doubtlessly take days – tonight, you don’t have the energy.

So you sit, and eat, and stare. This house of yours feels different in the dark. The emptiness echoes, a yawning, gaping maw that feels as though it wants to swallow you whole given half the chance.

But this house is new. Unfamiliar. It won’t be forever – when the rooms are filled with light and music and the kitchen smells of freshly baked treats, and you remember which of the floorboards creak and where the sun shines through in the late afternoon, it’ll be home. 

And maybe one day you’ll fill these rooms with a family of your own, maybe you won’t. Maybe in a few years time you’ll come to the realisation that you’ve outgrown what you needed this house to be, and you’ll sell it to somebody else. A family, perhaps, with kids who’ll run down through the living room chasing each other, laughing and giggling. 

The thought is an oddly bittersweet one. 

For as bright and happy as this place used to be, you can’t escape the truth that something awful happened here. There’s a sadness that hangs thick and heavy in the air around you. Grief and pain etched into the very foundations. 

But you’re broken, too – hollowed out with emotions still too raw to touch.

There’s something about this house, though. Something that goes beyond the tragedy that haunts it. You’ve spent days trying to put a finger on what exactly it was that drew you here, and why you kept coming back to it no matter how many other properties you saw.

You wanted an apartment, or a small two bedroom place. Something nice, small – cozy. Easy to take care of and keep clean. Rather than any of that, you’ve somehow ended up with a place bigger than you'll ever need, with four bedrooms and a converted garage out back.

You take a slow sip of champagne, straight from the bottle because your glasses are yet to be unpacked. 

This house has good bones, it just needs a little life.

—

You wake with a jerk, gasping.

The dream – nightmare, you suppose – begins to fade, even as you reach desperately to grasp at its threads. The only thing you can remember is the feeling of coldness seeping through your body, and hands grabbing at you from all different angles. Holding you, touching you, petting you.

Your stomach turns as you scramble from your sheets. 

It’s been like this every night this week. You fall asleep tucked away under the warm covers and wake in a pool of sweat from horrid dreams that you can’t remember, panting like you’ve run a marathon. 

Forgoing the bathroom light, you reach for the faucet, cupping your palms beneath the cold water to splash it over your face. 

You wonder absently whether it’s worth the effort of having an actual shower. The sheen of night sweat still clings to your skin, sticky and uncomfortable. Gripping tightly at the edge of the sink, you exhale, staring at the drain as water swirls down, down, down. 

It was only a dream. 

Another shaking breath. 

Nightmares are nothing new for you, yet these ones seem to sink their claws into you. They’re harder to shake than the ones about the accident – dead faces staring back at you with unblinking eyes, a cold morgue, your father’s corpse whispering into your ear; your fault, your fault, your fault.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as if that will rid you of whatever lingering unpleasantness the nightmare imparted. 

Finally, turning off the faucet, you glance to the mirror on the vanity– and scream.

There’s a figure standing behind you; slight and tan, with wavy blond hair and red hanafuda earrings that dangle to his shoulders. His eyes, though– one violet pupil fixed on your reflection. Where the other should be there’s a gruesome, gaping hole of flesh, brain matter and blood that drips down the left side of his face like tears. 

A door slams somewhere inside the house, a shout piercing through the night and you jolt, screaming louder as you whirl, still clutching at the edge of the sink as if it’s a lifeline.

There’s no one behind you, though, and when you fumble for the light switch, heart pounding, your stomach sitting in your throat, there’s nothing but silence to greet you. 

—

“You know what this house needs?” 

Yuzuha, munching on the pastries she’d brought over for breakfast, eyes the room thoughtfully, “New curtains. A rug for under the coffee table, hmm… oh! And some indoor plants, too. They’d liven the place up a little, I think.”

Hakkai laughs, waving off her suggestion, “Nah– well, maybe, but that’s not where I was going with this. You’ve got that extra room shed thingy out the back, right?” You nod and he continues, “Right, well I think you should convert it into a super fancy guest room, and then when Yuzuha starts smothering me, I can come and stay here!”

“Hey!”

“You wouldn’t stay up here with me in the main house? There’s like a thousand rooms you could pick from.” 

“Well, no, I mean– I wouldn’t, um, I don’t–” he flashes a panicked ‘deer-in-headlights’ look at his sister, the tips of his ears turning pink, and you almost – almost – feel bad for the laugh that bubbles up in response.

“Relax would you? You guys practically offered to let me move in with you both, no questions asked. You can stay here whenever. I’m not sure about the space out the back, though. I’m thinking I might turn it into a studio, or a movie den or something?” You shrug, “I don’t know yet. Still figuring it all out.”

When you glance to Yuzuha, the strawberry blonde is already watching you, a fond little smile warming her features. Hakkai may be the model in the family, but there’s something infinitely lovely about the elder Shiba sibling when she looks at you like that.

“A movie den sounds great,” she says, “but there’s no rush. We can make this place perfect, however you want it.”

You grin back at her, lips parting to continue the conversation when goosebumps begin to dot your skin, a cold shiver rolling down your spine. In the space of less than a second, the temperature in your living room’s plummeted, a chill that seeps right down to your very bones. 

The windows are closed, though, there’s no breeze or draught blowing through to explain it. 

Yet if either Yuzuha or Hakkai notice, neither gives any indication. 

“–Hakkai���s shoot, so we can go on Monday or Tuesday?” Yuzuha’s looking at you expectantly. 

You blink at her. “Sorry, what?”

The faintest of frowns mars your friend’s pretty face, but it’s smoothed over in an instant as she rolls her eyes good naturedly. “Stop zoning out on me. I said Hakkai’s got a shoot over the weekend, so if you want we can go look for house stuff early next week.”

Ice trails down your neck, localised this time – like fingertips dragging along your skin. 

“Oh… yeah, that– that sounds good.”

Your smile is frozen. Tight. And while Hakkai is oblivious to it, flicking through his phone with one hand, chowing down on the ‘low cal’ salmon bagel Yuzuha had begrudgingly bought for him, his sister isn’t so easily fooled.

Critical eyes sweep across your face. The corners of her lips turn downward, and she opens her mouth only to close it, seemingly thinking better of whatever it was.

Yuzuha exhales softly, and reaches for your hand, squeezing it til you look at her properly. “You look tired, hun,” she murmurs quietly. “Are you sleeping alright?”

And for some reason, the innocuous question has your eyes prickling, a thick lump forming in your throat. But you smile (as best you can) all the same, and nod.  

“Y’know what else this place could do with? A dog. Or a cat. Either really – you’ve got the space for it.”

—

A little after midnight, 12:17 to be exact, the TV in the living room switches on.

The sounds of buzzers ringing like pinball machines and peals of laughter float under your door, you recognise the sound of the host’s voice – reruns of a popular game show you used to watch as a kid.

You pull the covers tighter around yourself, squeezing your eyes closed like that’ll stop the noise. Protect you, somehow.

The TV’s old, wires must have loosened or frayed in the move somehow. That can happen, right?

You’re not crazy.

You’re not. 

Ghosts aren’t real.

And when the door to your bedroom slowly creaks open, and muted, impossible footfalls  pad closer, your grip on the sheets tightens. 

Muscles pulled taut and trembling like a leaf, a cold bead of sweat trickles down your spine.

Ghosts aren’t real.

The other edge of your covers lift, and you tense, flinching at the breeze of cold night air that licks at your back. A whimper slips out, halfway to a sob, as the sheets rustle, your bed dipping under a phantom weight.

The cold you’ve since become familiar with settles over you once more. And still, you refuse to look. 

This has to be a dream. Another visceral nightmare that’ll fade the moment you wake.

“Go away,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Go away, go away, go away, go away–”

Down in the living room, the TV changes channels.

—

The sun is shining and your bedroom is blessedly empty when you pry open bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 

Not a pillow out of place, no sign of any late night visitors, corporeal or otherwise. It should be a relief, except the same cannot be said for the kitchen, for when you sleepily shuffle in, you find a blonde girl with honey eyes no older than you sitting on the countertop, idly swinging her legs.

Watching you with a strangely eager smile.

“About time you got up. I’d ask if you usually make a habit of sleeping this late, but I think by now we both know that you do.”

You freeze, eyes widening, heart pounding; a deer in headlights. 

She’s a petite thing, slender if not for her curves, and perched atop the counter and smiling as she is, she doesn’t appear threatening or violent. Appearances can be misleading, though, and the fact remains that there’s a stranger in your house, talking to you as if she knows you. 

Rooted to the floor on the outskirts of the living room, you’re wholly defenceless. There’s nothing within arms reach you can grab to defend yourself, and you can’t even threaten to call the cops – you left your phone back in your room. 

Nervous eyes dart around your living space. Is it just her, or are there others, too? 

You don’t know whether to scream, run, or stand your ground and demand she gets the hell out of your house. You can’t think, petrified of making the wrong choice, your breath coming quicker and quicker.

“I don’t bite, y’know. You don’t have to be scared.”

Screaming, you eventually decide. If you scream, she might get scared and run off, or someone else will hear and come and investigate. Before you can make so much as a squeak, however, the blonde shifts, leaning back ever so slightly – inadvertently placing herself directly in the path of the sunlight streaming into the kitchen. 

And your jaw falls lax.

The sun doesn’t spill over her features, casting them in a warm glow. The shadows don’t shift. 

Rather, that beam of buttery, golden light filters through her, as if she’s no more than smoke and dust. 

“You’re not… real.”

The girl tilts her head to the side, considering you for a moment. Then she laughs, hopping down off the counter. “No?” 

One blink, and all of a sudden she’s standing right in front of you, hand outstretched to touch your face. You jerk back reflexively, and she diverts her course, grabbing your wrist instead. Steadies you with an ice cold touch and laces her fingers with yours.

“I might not be alive anymore, that doesn’t make me any less real.”

It’s too much. Her touch and the closeness, the paranoia of the past two weeks. Hysteria bubbles up inside of you and you try to yank your hand free and scramble back away from her.

For a figment of a fractured imagination, the blonde’s grip is surprisingly unyielding. You wrench yourself against it all the same. 

“No, no, no, let me go–” you gasp, hot tears prickling at your eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the hallucination says, a pout tugging at her full lips. “None of us will, Izana… Izana’s just–”

You never find out who or what Izana is or isn’t, because between terrified, rattling breaths and half choked pleas, a masculine voice calls out from nearby.

“Emma.”

The blonde – Emma? – heaves a long suffering sigh, rolling her pretty eyes. “Fine.” 

And in the blink of an eye, she’s gone.

—

You refuse to google the word ‘ghosts’.

Lost in the crowd wandering the busy streets of Tokyo with a coffee in hand, you reach a calm sort of clarity.

As far as you can tell, there are two possibilities; Either ghosts are real and your house is haunted, or you’re seeing things. 

Having never been one to put much faith in anything spiritual, logically, the second option makes more sense. You’re grieving still, exhausted from a lack of sleep and the stress of packing up your life and moving houses for the first time. Is it any wonder that you’re struggling to cope? Is it that much of a stretch to imagine that you’re seeing things, feeling things that aren’t actually there?

Except you don’t feel crazy. When you’re outside, away from home – on your bi-weekly trek to your parents grave, or when you’re out shopping with Yuzuha or picking up groceries, you don’t get that same sense of unease. You don’t see things that shouldn’t – couldn’t – possibly exist.

And things were getting better. You were getting better; the nightmares were easing. The guilt still ate away at you, yes, and you mourned for the loss of your parents, but it wasn’t that all consuming grief that crippled you before.

You’d felt that touch. That day in the kitchen with your friends, and again this morning. The girl, Emma, you’d felt her hand around your wrist, cold and impossibly strong, but real. 

Which leaves you with the possibility that you’re not imagining any of it. 

In any case, you can’t just bury your head in the sand and pretend this isn’t happening. You can’t hide away forever.

The house is quiet when you return. Still. Yet there’s an air of anticipation that stirs as you cross the threshold and set down your keys, like an arrow nocked and drawn, ready to be loosed. 

Wetting your lips and squaring your shoulder, you wonder if you’re a fool. You must be, yet you don’t see any other option. 

Breathing in deep, your lips part, “Emma? Are you there?”

You’re speaking to an empty room, and then, suddenly, you aren’t – the petite blonde girl appearing beside you.

Only this time, she’s not alone. Leaning propped up against the open entryway, arms folded across his chest, a tall, dark haired man meets your gaze.

There’s something decidedly familiar in the set of his features, the shape of his nose, but you’re spared from thinking too much on it when Emma squeals in delight, throwing her arms around you – oblivious to the way you stiffen and squeak under the cool embrace. 

“I knew you’d come around!”

“Emma.”

You recognise the deeper voice, having heard it only hours before. Your attention shifts to the other figure in the room. Older than Emma, with more than a passing resemblance; a brother, you decide, or a cousin.

Flat, black eyes peer back at you. Unsettling, despite the pleasant expression he wears. 

Emma huffs, drawing her head from your tensed shoulder to look at him, “What? I’m not doing anything wrong.”

A hint of a smile teases at his mouth. 

It’s a familiar look, you’ve seen a similar one on Yuzuha’s face whenever Hakkai tries to sweet talk his way out of doing things he doesn’t want to – chores, paperwork, what he deems to be ‘unnecessary’ meetings. The list is endless.

“Let her go and give the poor girl some space, would you? You’re overwhelming her.”

For a moment it looks as though she’s going to argue with him, but upon glancing back at you – noticing, probably for the first time the strained expression on your face – she relents, a petulant, “Killjoy,” muttered under her breath. 

Yet she doesn’t stray from your side, hovering close. “This is Shinichiro. He’s the oldest.”

It’s a surreal thing, being introduced to the ghosts of the people who used to live in your house. Stumped by what you’re expected to say in return (‘nice to meet you’ seems a little… inadequate, considering the circumstances), Shinichiro takes the lead, grinning as he pushes off the doorframe. 

“Not every day you meet a ghost, huh?” he asks. 

You decide against telling him that you’re still not positive this isn’t all in your head. 

“Not every day you move into a house that’s haunted,” you counter. You’d meant it as a joke, but the words come out all stilted and stiff, betraying your discomfort. 

Despite that, they seem to have their intended effect, something like amusement glittering in Shinichiro’s eyes as he chuckles lightly, “Lucky us.”

Your stomach twists. Joking or not, none of this feels right. Emma, clinging to your side like glue, seems enamoured already, and Shinichiro appears friendly enough, but none of that changes the past two weeks, your fear and terror, the sheer blinding panic you’d felt, waking up from nightmares you’re beginning to suspect weren’t so inexplicable.

A sudden thought occurs to you, and you turn to Emma, “Wait, you said oldest?”

She nods, “Mhm! Shin’s the oldest, but there’s four of us.”

“You’ve already met Izana.”

Met him? Confusion etches its way onto your countenance, and with a frown of his own Shinichiro hastens to add, “The asshole shouldn’t have scared you like that, he’ll apologise.”

Ah, you realise with an icy stab – the face in the mirror. The one you’ve spent the past week trying your best to forget.

… Emma had mentioned him before, hadn’t she. She’d known then, that her brother had scared you half to death that night. Both of them had. And yet he – Izana – hadn’t looked like they did. Save for the smoke-like translucence of their skin and the preternatural way they moved, appearing and disappearing at will, both Emma and Shinichiro could almost pass for human. Or alive, you guess. 

Izana had been something else entirely. A nightmare, bloody and horrifying… Why was he different?

“And then there’s Mikey, but he’s… well–” Emma hesitates, glancing at her older brother, who’s quick to step in.  

“Manjiro doesn’t do great with change,” Shin admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “But he’s coming around. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Nope. This is too much.

“I-I think I need… I just need–” but the rest of the sentence won’t come, and so you shake your head and stumble for the couch, sinking down into the cushions moments before your legs give out entirely. 

Elbows braced on your thighs, staring vacantly at the wooden floorboards you shudder for breath. The air’s too thin, and your head’s spinning. 

Maybe you have lost it completely. 

“Hey, hey, breathe for me, yeah? I get it’s a lot to take in, but everything’s gonna be fine.”

There’s a hand on your back, stroking slowly. Emma pops into existence beside you, curling into your side like a cat. Her cheek falls against your shoulder, “It’s okay.”

—

You never do get that apology.

Izana’s different from Emma, from Shin. Different even from Mikey – Manjiro – the youngest brother having taken to silently glaring at you from the outskirts whichever room you occupy. 

(‘He just needs some time’, Shinichiro assured, patting you on the head.)

He appears in the windows, in your mirror. Always in the reflection, bloody and gruesome, hovering like a bad omen.

Then comes the cold that freezes you in place. And you’re forced to watch as he draws closer – touches you. Encircling your wrist at first, icy fingers trailing up your sides.

And then comes the hand that curls around your throat. 

He doesn’t squeeze. Doesn’t tighten his grip.

Izana smiles in the reflection, laying his ruined face in the crook of the very neck he’s toying with and you wonder if ghosts can hurt the living – truly hurt you.

You wonder if he can hear the frantic pounding of your heart. 

“I won’t leave,” you tell him one night, your voice trembling as he thumbs leisurely at your fluttering pulse. “You won’t scare me away.”

Izana snickers, and in the blink of an eye he appears behind you. Real, solid (or as solid as a ghost can be), wholly undamaged. Lips at your ear, violet eyes twinkle as they bore into your reflection.

“And what makes you think I want you gone?”

—

Another night, another restless dream that wrenches you back to consciousness. 

In the darkness of your room, you draw your knees up to your chest, curling into a ball as the tears – hot and bitter – well up and spill silently down your cheeks.

It wasn’t a nightmare, at least, not the kind you’ve become accustomed to. In it, you weren’t haunted by shapeless, faceless figures, but your parents. Dead and empty, cold to the touch. They’d stood on the road beside the wreckage, watching impassively as you cried and screamed, crawling over broken glass to reach them.

Your fault.

Shoulders shaking, your face buried in your knees, you don’t notice the temperature in your bedroom dwindling.

“What happened?”

With a sniffle, you lift your head to find that you’re no longer alone; Mikey sitting cross legged at the end of your bed, chin resting in his propped up palm. 

For once, he isn’t glaring. 

Too drained for anything other than acceptance, you shrug with another weak sniffle, “Just a dream, don’t worry about it.”

At his raised eyebrow, you sigh, slowly wiping at your tears. “There was a car accident a few months back,” you say. “My parents, they–”

“They didn’t survive.”

“No.”

Mikey tilts his head, “Were you there?”

The screech of metal bending and gasoline that burns up your nose. Your head throbs, pain radiating along your leg. Your mother’s body lying twisted on the road in front of you–

Fingernails dig into the soft skin of your palm.

“… Yeah.”

For a little while, Mikey doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t offer any comfort, and you don’t expect him to, but he doesn’t leave. 

You wouldn’t go so far as to say that it’s a nice moment, what with tears still quietly rolling down your cheek and your heart aching, but it’s something. Enough, maybe.

And then Mikey decides to speak. 

“You have no one left, then.”

You stiffen, blindsided for a moment by the callousness of the comment. Mikey’s own expression is decidedly neutral, and whether he meant it to hurt or not, the words are salt in your wounds, rubbing too deep, too painful to be ignored. 

Your eyes narrow into a glare, “I have Yuzuha. And Hakkai.” 

Yuzuha hadn’t spent weeks looking after you in the wake of your parents’ deaths, making sure you ate and slept and showered, keeping you from becoming a miserable, hollowed out shell just to be brushed aside like she’s nothing. The Shiba siblings are family, blood and DNA be damned. 

“They’re not your family,” he scoffs, scowling right back. “They’ll leave eventually.”

Resisting the urge to tell him to shut up, you instead fall back to the pillows, roughly yanking your covers up over your shoulder once more. “You don’t know anything,” you huff under your breath, the words more bitter than you intend.

You expect him to disappear then, or to double down on the cruel remarks. Mikey does neither, choosing to remain at the foot of your bed, his stare boring holes into you.

Whether it’s minutes or hours that pass, you couldn’t say, only that you’re on the verge of sleep once more when his voice breaks through the silence.

“I know what it’s like to watch your family die.”

Curled up on your side, gazing into the darkness, there’s an old ache inside of your chest that pangs, and regret washes over you. 

You’d asked Emma about it only once, tentatively broaching the subject after dinner one night. 

She’d gone silent for a long time, staring at the floor with wide, unseeing eyes. It hadn’t been until you’d gently called her name again that she’d snapped out of it, quietly admitting that there was a break in. Shinichiro had appeared a moment later and the subject was quickly dropped – you haven’t had the nerve to bring it up again since.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and Mikey hums in response.

—

Things seem to settle after that.

You return to work, and though you’d never admit as much to either one of them, it’s nice to be around people other than Yuzuha and her brother. 

After the first day or two, your co-workers stop tiptoeing around you like they’re afraid you’ll break at the slightest touch, and start treating you how they used to. 

For the first time in a long time, you feel almost normal again.

You come to realise that you like coming home to Emma and Shinichiro – even Mikey when he’s not in a mood. You enjoy having company while you cook dinner, someone to listen to you talk about your day. 

Izana still takes perverse pleasure in trying to unnerve you of course, and Mikey hangs over you like a shadow (though he doesn’t glare so much anymore, which you count as a win) but the house feels more welcoming now that you know it’s not so empty.

You’re not a burden to them. Not a broken, pitiable thing. 

It’s enough, sometimes, to make you forget that you’re not the only one with hang ups from the past. 

The first time you come home late, it’s because your bus broke down halfway home, and you ended up grabbing a bite to eat while you waited for the next one.

You’re greeted by Shin, pacing in the living room, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

(And maybe if he hadn’t looked so frustrated, you might’ve marvelled at the concept of a ghost smoking.)

“Where the hell were you?”

Both Emma and Mikey linger nearby, watching on as you drop your keys and purse on the counter top, toeing off your shoes. “There was an issue with the bus, it’s not a big deal.”

Well meaning or not, his attitude chafes a little. You’re a grown adult, you don’t need to be babied or coddled. You certainly don’t need to explain yourself to any of them – it was barely an hour. If you wanted to spend all night partying, or go out on a date, or stay back in the office working, you were perfectly entitled to.

Shinichiro isn’t your big brother, and you’re not a kid with a curfew.

Nevertheless, you apologise – if only to rid the awkward, strangely tense atmosphere that hangs in the air between you.

“Shin gets like that sometimes. After… everything that happened,” Emma explains later, seated atop your bedroom vanity. “He cares about you. We all do – we just wanna know that you’re safe, is that really so awful?”

You’re not the one being unreasonable, you know that, it doesn’t stop the slight twinge of guilt.  

The second time it happens, it’s because you’re dragged out for drinks after work to celebrate one of your coworkers birthdays. You stumble home well after dark, the taste of sake fresh on your tongue. 

Lips pursed, Shinichiro doesn’t say a word as you step inside and shut the door behind you, the lock clicking into place. He doesn’t need to – the disapproval rolls off of him in waves. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, your previous good mood all but evaporating under his scowl. “I didn’t realise it was so late.”

Which is a lie, technically, but what else is there to say?

This time, even Izana’s here, his countenance impassive save for the narrowing of his eyes – an expression matched across his siblings’ faces. 

The longer the heavy silence stretches, the more uncomfortable you become. You begin to feel a little like you’re on trial. “Next time I’ll call, o-or, I don’t know, I’ll leave a message somehow to let you know that I’ll be coming home late.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Shin snaps, and for one split second, you swear his appearance changes; blood flecked across pale, dead skin, a bullet wound at his temple, bone and blood and brain matter exploding on the other side–

You blink, though, and whatever you thought you saw is gone. 

Shin looks down at you, eyes uncharacteristically hard, his jaw set. “You don’t fucking get it,” he repeats quietly, shaking his head, and an instant later, all four of them are gone.

Feeling very much like a child chastised by your parents, there’s not much left to do but shower the day’s stresses off of you and head to sleep. 

The hot water helps. Tomorrow, you decide, you’ll apologise to him and talk, maybe set out some ground rules. You still don’t think you’re entirely in the wrong, but clearly this is a point of contention with him – with all of them, apparently – and it’s better to nip it in the bud.

Opening the shower door, you step gingerly out onto the bath mat, reaching through the steam for your towel. One moment, you’re upright, the next you’re careening backwards, arm outstretched–

You hit the ground hard, and scream as bone breaks. 

—

“I leave you alone for one week!”

“Zu, it’s fine! Would you please stop worrying?”

“You broke your arm!”

“There was water on the tiles, I slipped and fell, it happens, and I’m fine,” you stress. “The doc said a few weeks in the cast and I’ll be good as new.”

The unimpressed look Yuzuha gives you says more than words ever could. “You need to be more careful, hun. You could’ve hit your head, you could’ve seriously hurt yourself!” She sighs, nibbling at her bottom lip, “I just… I don’t wanna lose you, too.”

You smile at that, letting her pull you into a tight hug. Her lips press against your forehead and she holds you there for a minute, the familiar scent of honey and daisies tickling your senses. “You know I love you, right?” she mumbles against your hair.

“I know. I love you, too.”

Above you, the light fixture shatters.

—

A hand smoothes over your hair, a cold sensation tickling the soft skin of your cheeks. Blinking slowly, the world comes to, and you realise that once again, you’ve fallen asleep on the couch instead of your bed. 

“What time is it?” you croak, squinting up at the eldest.

“Late.”

You yawn, pulling yourself up into a seated position, “‘m sorry. Work’s been crazy this week.”

“I know,” he says. “You’ve been staying back a lot lately, and going in early.”

It sounds almost like an accusation. 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you frown a little, “I know– I’ve just gotta get back in the swing of things. And the broken arm isn’t exactly helping, but it won’t be like this forever.”

Shin nods, but he’s not even looking at you, staring instead at the game show playing forgotten on the old TV, and your frown deepens, “I-is everything okay?”

His shoulders rise and fall, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He turns to look at you then, and smiles.

You’ve seen Shin smile plenty of times before, but this one looks all wrong. Your stomach twists uneasily. 

“Yeah,” he says, “It’s gonna be just fine, I promise.”

Your neck snaps to the side with a sickening, final crack.

—

You’d asked Yuzuha once if she believed in ghosts.

At the time she’d brushed it off as idle curiosity and told you the truth; yes, she believed in ghosts and no, she’d never seen one herself.

‘Do you think that there’s such a thing as good ghosts, or –I guess ghosts that aren’t inherently bad?’ you’d pushed. 

Looking back on it now, Yuzuha wonders whether she missed something. She’s always been able to read you like a book, and it was strange, wasn’t it, that you’d pressed the issue? That you’d seemed so out of sorts, nervous, even.

But back then, you were only just starting to come back to yourself. She overlooked so much of it.

She’d told you then that ghosts only came about when people died with unfinished business, and that meant they were tethered here. Trapped. She’d told you that like any animal caught on a chain and left to rot, that made them dangerous.

The approach clicking of heels against wood draws her back to the present, and she turns to see the real estate agent pocketing her phone with a bright smile.

“Apologies, Miss Shiba.”

Yuzuha waves her off, “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. Now, you were telling me about the history of the property?”

“Ah yes. I believe you’re aware that this home is a jiko buken?” Yuzuha nods, and the agent continues, “Well, about four years ago there was a nasty mess with the family who lived here, a murder-suicide, I believe. An awful, tragic thing.” 

Tragic was one way of putting it. 

After an hour or so of digging online, Yuzuha had found the full, grisly story on a true crime blog – backed up by links to leaked documents from the original police report.

The Sano children were orphans, raised by their grandfather after the untimely death (and abandonment) of their parents early in their childhood. The grandfather, Sano Mansaku, passed himself some years before, leaving the eldest, Shinichiro, to raise his three younger siblings: Izana, who it was later discovered was in fact adopted, Manjiro, also referred to as Mikey, and Emma, the youngest and only girl – Shinichiro and Mikey’s half sister.

Reports vary over what exactly caused the initial argument. The police suspect it might’ve had something to do with money or gang activity, as all three men had at one point or another been tied to various criminal groups. Another theory posits that the fight broke out after Izana’s true parentage was revealed.

In any case, it was deduced that a physical altercation broke out between Izana and Mikey and in the struggle Emma, likely trying to stop them from fighting, was shot on accident.

While the bullet missed her heart, it punctured her lungs. Even if emergency services had been called, there was no saving her at that point – the poor girl died within minutes.

Enraged by the death of his sister, police gathered that Mikey then shot Izana at a near point blank range, right through his eye. 

While both shots were heard by neighbours, neither the police nor ambulances were called to the scene. Nearly two hours later, the eldest Sano returned home from work to find Emma and Izana dead, Mikey still cradling his sister’s body.

With the knowledge that his family was destroyed, and that his only remaining brother would be lucky to escape the death penalty if he were to be arrested, Shinichiro killed him – either in a blind rage or as a brutal act of mercy – before turning the gun on himself.

Yuzuha swallows a bitter laugh. Murder-suicide.

The real estate agent, oblivious, sighs, “The property then sat unoccupied until a few months ago when it was purchased outright by a young local girl.”

“O-oh?”

Her heart pounds so violently against her ribs that she’s sure the agent must be able to hear it. She knows what’s coming, tries to brace herself as best she can. 

Hakkai had offered to come with her, his face ashen – almost green at the thought. He would’ve, though, if she’d said yes. 

Maybe she should’ve. It’d be easier, she thinks, to hear it with her little brother’s hand wrapped around hers. 

“Yes, unfortunately she too died on the property a few weeks back – an accident,” she hastens to clarify, as if that makes any difference. 

Bile creeps up her throat, and Yuzuha forces herself to nod, clasping her hands behind her back so the real estate agent won’t see how badly they’re shaking. “I see… Do you– do you mind if I take a look around by myself?”

“No, no, of course, feel free. I’ll be in the kitchen if you have any questions.”

Her footsteps fade away, and Yuzuha walks the familiar path into your bedroom. All your furniture’s gone, your belongings. The room’s empty now. Cold and lifeless.

This house of yours always had cold spots, a bitter iciness that crept up at the strangest times, freezing her right to her bones – like someone was walking over her grave.

Closing her eyes, Yuzuha breathes in deep, and waits.

It doesn’t take long for goosebumps to prickle, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. 

“I know you’re here,” she breathes, eyes fluttering open – just as a cold grip seizes her by the throat. In one fell swoop, the door to your bedroom swings shut, the power surging ‘til it blows all across the house. 

Plunged into darkness, the room’s just as empty as when Yuzuha entered it, frost spreading across the window. Even her breath, choked and frantic, puffs out in clouds of vapour as she claws at the invisible grip. 

Distantly Yuzuha hears the real estate agent calling out to her, the door handle rattling uselessly. Locked. 

Cold breath washes over her neck, lips at her ear. The hand at her throat tightens. 

“She isn’t yours anymore. Get out.”

[mhadumpsterfire]

New Tenant [P.1]

~~~~kastuki bakugou~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Cursing, Mentions of loud noises. Alcohol and Drug use.

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

Y/N has finally found the apartment of their dreams and is ready to settle down and move in, but how will they feel when they have some noise complaints for Katsuki Bakugou, their new next-door neighbor?

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

It was perfect! One bedroom, one beautifully large bathroom, a kitchen with all the storage anyone could ask for and a decently-sized walk-in closet. You loved it. You had been searching for a new apartment for months now and even after every open-house...it was let down after let down.

Maybe the closet was too small or it was just a plain old studio like the last, you had money to spend and wanted to make every last penny worth it. That's why the second you saw it, you immediately placed an offer to the sellers and not even 2 days letter got a response, it's yours!

But that was the past, now your hauling boxes into your new place and it's pretty sick.

After a couple of long, exhausting hours you were finally moved into 308 and...settled to say the least. It was pretty late, 10pm on a weeknight to be exact you had to start fresh and early at the ripe time of 8:30 to start your new job as a barista at the best café in the city.

You finally allowed your head to rest, and you were falling to darkness in your warm, comforting sheets when a blast of bass hit the walls behind you followed by loud music vibrating your body. Your eyes burst open and a rush of anger melted through your veins. After your long, treacherous day all you wanted was a good night sleep and you weren't going to let some next door idiots ruin that, right? So you got up, dusted off your red silk pajamas and marched yourself over to 309 because you were not about to let some lowlifes ruin your first day experience.

You angrily and confidently knocked at the door. You waited a few minutes to be polite and....nothing. Just more waves of crashing music erupting from 309, just as you were about to knock again, who you assumed to be another neighbor was walking down the corridor.

"Ah...don't bother with 309. He's a party monster, never seen that dude without a glass of grey goose in his hands. Him and his crew throw parties like this every week. No point trying, I've lived here for 2 years and trust me...I've tried."

He smiled reassuringly at you, allowing your comfort. Your anger flours away and you reward him with a soft chuckle "Yeah, he probably can't hear me anyways. I was just...I just moved in and I'm...I'm trying to get some uh..rest for tomorrow I suppose." You reply, awkwardly. He returned your chuckle before continuing "Aren't we all? Well...welcome to the building. I'm Shouto." He then gestured his hand out to yours in an invitation to shake hands. You reluctantly agreed and took his hand in yours "Y/N. And thank you...for the warning and all, I've had a long day, this is the last thing I need." You drop his hand politely...awaiting his reply "Of course, well I've got to head back but uh... I'll catch you around, Y/N." He said before walking back down the corridor.

He seemed nice, he was cute and smelled nice...maybe this move wouldn't be so hard after all....but back to what you were doing. You know Shouto warned you not to give any effort into 309 but you were desperate. You knocked again, harder and louder this time. And as if god answered your weary prayers, you heard loud, booming footsteps marching to the door. You smiled to yourself and stood with confidence awaiting your next door neighbor.

A tall, buff guy with blonde spikey hair and murderous red eyes answered the door. He was covered in tattoos and wore a leather vest, black ripped jeans, big heavy boots and lots of accessories.

You looked up at the man holding a glass in his hand and a cigar in his mouth, in awe before he snapped you out of your trance. "Uh...what's up lady?" He said looking you up and down. You blinked nervously and started speaking as if you prepared a speech "Uh...H-hello, I am your new neighbor or whatever and It's pretty late, I have work tomorrow and I'm sure you do as well, right? Right, so I was just wondering as y'know neighbor to neighbor if you could uh...maybe..please turn your music down? Just for the night?" You looked up at him desperately. "Ah, you're the new chick right? I heard about you, some of the tenants were talking about some new girl moving in or what not. I don't really care though, but I didn't expect my neighbor to be so....cute...what is that? Sleep couture?" He said before chuckling to himself.

You looked down at yourself and proudly adjusted your pajamas before speaking again "Haha..very funny guy, but I'm serious so if you could please turn it down?" He looked you up and down.... "Listen, I'm having a little get together in here with friends which I can tell you don't have. So how about you run along back to your new place and get the fuck outta my face, huh, doll?" He spoke before closing the door on your face.

You sighed frustratingly to yourself..."How could he just do that? Doesn't he have any human decency? He's so rude." You thought to yourself. You huffed and waddled back into your room, slipped into your bed once more and as your eyes were closing another wave of music blasted through the dry wall as if a play at you. You knew, although, you couldn't do anything about it and was advised by your fellow neighbor, Shouto, to give up early so you just decided to deal with it.

You closed your heavy lids and drifted off to sleep, preparing for a rough first day around the area.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Heyy!!

I dont think there's such think as semen donors in aot cannon?

BUT WHAT IF Captain Levi agrees to be the donor to squad leader (or just cadet) reader in a platonic relationship/eventual romance?

Just cute ackerbabies!

Lmao you’re probably right, no semen donors in canonverse. But I honestly love this idea so much, I feel like it would be hard for Levi to make that romantic connection so I could see him making that choice, and maybe it developing into something more!

Summary: Levi can’t wait any longer to start a family, and you are willing to take that step with him.

Word Count: 1.7K

__

You choked on the small sip of tea that you had taken. Catching the small drops of liquid that had escaped your lips.

“Come again now?” You managed to form words after a moment, Levi seemed uninterested as always, those charcoal grey eyes dull and apathetic.

“You heard me just fine, you know that I hate repeating myself.” He scoffed as he shifted so that his leg was crossed over his opposite knee,

“Yes I heard you but....marriage?” You were shocked to say the least. Levi had never shown any prior interest in any long term relationship with anyone, although the two of you had hooked up a handful of times.

“I don’t see why not. We already share a room, not to mention that we-”

“Okay I get it, just...it’s a big commitment and I’m not sure that I’m-”

“Oh please, what else do we have to look forward to anymore? No more fighting, no more political issues to deal with might as well settle down and...” He trailed off, his gaze cast downwards into his cup of tea, which was probably cold by now. You sighed deeply, placing your cup down gently and leaning back into the sofa that the two of you were seated on. His arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa, his finger tips ghosting over your shoulder.

“I know but Levi...marriage?” you were a bit disappointed. He had said it so casually, as if he was asking you if you wanted to run to the market to grab apples.

“If you don’t want to then just say no.” He snapped, clearly getting frustrated, he rose to his feet and began to march towards his desk. You chased after him, catching his wrist. You knew it was difficult for him to express himself, to put things lightly or being considerate to your feelings.

“It’s not that...I’m just a little caught off guard.” You admitted as you held his wrist gently. He let out a breath that he had seemed to have been holding in, he turned and laced his fingers through yours, his other hand diving into his pant pocket. You waited patiently for him to say something, but he only pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat, this was more how you had pictured being proposed to. He fell onto his knee and opened the box slowly, revealing a modest silver ring with a small diamond embedded in the ring.

“Oh Levi...” Your fingers were still laced with his as he knelt down, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“I already bought the damn ring, just say yes.” He grunted, averting his gaze as his thumb glided over your knuckle.

“You have a point there.” You chuckled as you gave him a small nod, which was enough of a yes for him.

__

You were married by the end of the month, a simple court house wedding with Armin and Mikasa as your witnesses. Afterwards you had gone home and eaten dinner as usual. Just another week, except now the sex that you and Levi occasionally had, became a hell of a lot more regular. You had no complaints, or at least that was until you were hunched over the kitchen sink puking your guts out. You had missed your period as well, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. You decided to wait until you were certain to tell anyone this however, seeing how difficult pregnancy could be, and the unlikeliness of carrying to full term seemed high.

So you made sure to go to the doctor twice before telling Levi that you were pregnant. He’d had a very similar reaction that you’d had when he had asked to marry you.

He choked on his tea, his hand flying to his chin to catch the liquid.

“Pregnant?” He repeated, and you nodded, leaning against the table where he was sitting.

“H-How long until...”

“Give or take seven months.” You shrugged, trying to put on a brave face, after seeing how frazzled he was you wanted to make this as casual as the rest of your relationship.

“So...we should probably start cleaning out that spare room and-” You cut him off by kneeling down and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, for now let’s just...enjoy not being responsible for a helpless shitty baby.” You said softly as you slowly sank onto his lap. He hummed his approval, but still seemed rightfully on edge.

“We can start cleaning the room in few weeks, there’s no rush.” You assured him as you scattered kisses across his sour face.

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Levi hummed as he tilted his head to the side.

__

Turned out that you were both in way over your head. Around 12 weeks into your pregnancy Hange was pressing her stethoscope to your rapidly swelling belly when she froze. Levi tensed when he noticed this, and you frowned.

“What is it?” Levi asked as he gripped the back of the exam table.

“Nothing’s wrong...just-”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Levi scowled as he watched Hange continue to feel around your stomach.

“That’s cause it isn’t nothing, I’m hearing two heart beats.” Hange told you as she stood to her full height.

“Two heart beats?” You felt feint at the news, you had known that twins ran in your family but you had never expected to have them yourself.  

“Yes, it appears that you are having twins” Hange said with a wide smile as she folded up the stethoscope. Your vision blurred, the worry that you had been experiencing prior to the appointment had doubled along with the number of children you were having. 

“No shit.” Levi replied breathily as he held your shoulder firmly. 

“If I were you guys I’d go clean out that room now.” Hange advised as she cleaned up the space that you had been using as a makeshift exam room in her office. 

“I’ll get right on that.” Levi said, shooting you a concerned look as he helped you up onto your feet. 

__

The twins were born premature, the labor itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. But you realized that it wasn’t that bad because of how small they were. The only reason that they both survived was thanks to the Marleyan medical equipment that had been shipped over courtesy of Zeke and Yelena. You and Levi spent countless hours in the hospital as you awaited for the twins to be discharged. In that window of time you decided on names, it was difficult but you decided on Harrison and Harper. You weren’t surprised to find that they both took after their father, dark bluish grey eyes with a full head of black hair. The one thing they seemed to have gotten from you was your facial structure and your complexion. 

It was a massive relief to bring them home, now instead of staying up until the wee hours in the hospital you could do it in the comfort of your own home. 

One particular evening you were walking laps with Harrison, gently patting his back as you bounced off of your heels as he cried. On your third lap around the entire cottage, you peeked into the nursery to see Levi reclined on the rocker with Harper fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. You envied him as you rubbed circles on Harrison’s back once more. His cries slowly died out and you managed to drag yourself to your bed and place Harrison down gently. Using the extra pillows, you managed to make a small barrier between him and yourself as well as the edge of the bed. It wasn’t often that you got to do this, seeing as you usually slept with Levi. But Harrison seemed content with laying in his dad’s spot for the night. His big blue eyes were watching your hair sway over his face as you adjusted the pillows. He cooed and babbled for a few minutes before falling silent, his tiny breaths putting you at ease. 

It couldn’t have been but an hour later when the sound of Harper crying woke you once more. Levi was pacing around the same way that you had been earlier before he finally managed to put her at ease. He returned to your room to see you sitting up, Harrison fast asleep at your side. 

“Care to join us?” You asked, voice gruff with sleep, or rather the lack there of. 

“Would I ever.” Levi groaned as he placed Harper in the pillow barrier with Harrison who was still fast asleep. He managed to squeeze onto the bed, laying on his side like you were as the two of you watched Harper sooth herself into sleep. His gaze left the small baby in favor of studying your features. 

“What would you have done if I had never asked you to marry me?” The question caught you off guard, your fingers were tracing the soft features of your babies. You hummed in thought but the answer was already on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’d have asked you to marry me.” You said with a wry smile and Levi rolled his eyes at your cheesy reply. 

“That’s not what I meant...well not really.” Levi grumbled, you paused again in thought. What would you have done? Certainly no more military work, that chapter was over for you. 

“Maybe I’d open a bakery. My grandmother left me all of her recipes. What would you do?” You asked, finger running along the soft dark locks of hair that were growing from Harrison’s head. 

“I’d open a tea shop.” Levi answered quickly, his own gaze back on the babies, his hand resting on Harper’s stomach, rising and falling with her breathing. 

“Why don’t we just say fuck it and do it?” You asked, not sure if you were serious or if it was the lack of sleep talking. 

“There was that space for lease last time we went into town...” Levi offered thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, we could fix it up and open a cafe.” You said excitedly as you leaned over the sleeping babies in hopes of coaxing a kiss from Levi. He nodded in agreement before leaning over and planting a kiss to your lips. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep.” Levi sighed as he stretched out on his side, and closing his eyes. You smiled and mirrored him, your hand resting on Harrison’s stomach now as well, your fingertips brushing his. 

You knew that you’d made the right choice. Marrying Levi was the best decision that you’d made in a long time. It may not look like the typical love story, but you knew that it was real, realer than most relationships. And you wouldn’t want to have it with anyone else. 

[jostepherjoestar]

Maybe Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Leone friendship HCs with a fem friend thats llike your generic dumbass but they are just like a soft dumbass, she is just too cute to get mad at no matter how stupid she is. So basically a smol sweet dumbass that just radiate baby energy. Like she just runs up to them saying she want to show them something cool and its just a pretty rock but she looks so happy xjsbkss 💖

Pure of heart, dumb of ass fem!friend with Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Abbacchio HC’s

sfw // fem reader

lemme just say, reader is baby and that’s valid 🥰this is so adorably pure ugh ya done killed me anon 🥺💖✨(can very much relate tho, glad my friends put up with my dumb antics)

Jotaro:

“Why am I friends with you again? Yare yare...” A phrase you’ll hear every time you’re hanging out with this tall bastard. He’ll tease you for being a bit of a dumbass but is incredibly drawn to how kind, sweet and absolutely thoughtful you are.

You remind him of Josuke and Okuyasu which only makes him like you even more. And the added cuteness-factor made him admit to himself he does indeed love cute things, no matter how adamantly he denies it to you.

His favourite thing to do is bring you along to the beach for field research, knowing just how wide eyed and giddy you get when you’re allowed to collect shells and rocks or even poke a jellyfish. You seem very good at spotting irregularities in your surroundings, making quite the good assistant to Dr. Kujo.

You’re even allowed to help with lab research, studying petri dishes filled with algae as you excitedly point out a very important detail he hadn’t noticed yet, too tired from working such long hours. Sometimes you’re quite the genius without even trying.

More than anything he loves the amount of lightness you bring to his life, his studies and general headspace take a large toll on him. Any relief is a welcome one.

He’ll often find himself smiling at the thought of hanging out again, staring at the collection of trinkets he keeps in a cute little Hello Kitty box you once gave him, which rests on his nightstand as a reminder that it can’t hurt to adapt your lifestyle of mindless giddy; even just the tiniest bit.

Risotto:

Being close friends with Risotto seems a bit impossible without being in his squad, he’s very insistent at keeping outsiders of Passione more than an arm-length away. Good thing that the stoic man is your capo, phew!

He’s apprehensive at first, not really sure why the soft round pebble you brought him reminded you of the man as he studied the mineral, admiring its softness. “It’s like you! Soft and worn down, but very sturdy and unbreakable.” smiling sweetly at him, excitedly awaiting a response.

What was this new feeling of being appreciated and cared for? Risotto’s never really experienced a friendship so pure. He’ll quietly thank you for the pebble and keeps it on his desk, staring in awe as he’s reminded of your kind words every time he spots it.

He knows the others like to tease you for not always being aware of general human knowledge, shooting them an intense glare as a warning to keep any rude comments or jokes to themselves.

Your friendship consists of him mostly listening to you, quietly taking in all the stories you divulge- so full of excitement, telling him facts you picked up somewhere; the source of these often containing varying levels of credibility. He won’t correct you though. (unless it’s something that might actually endanger you)

He values your friendship so.much. He’s not used to being treated so kindly, receiving random gifts, being praised for a job well done, having someone who doesn’t judge him in the slightest. He’ll do whatever he needs to keep you safe, from others and yourself, along with trying to return your kindness and care. (he tries his best and it’s so cute)

(you guys hold hands for safety when you’re out in the city... just saying, it’s adorable)

Prosciutto:

Prosciutto has a chronic case of “caring older brother disease”. Will need to hold himself back from tying your shoelaces for you, the man knows you can do it it yourself but it’s just taking sooo long.

Just like Risotto, you’d have to be a team member to get close to him in any way. Good thing he recruited you ;)

It’s a bit hard to make him open up about anything personal. You feel like he knows everything about you, while you barely know a thing. When he sees your pouty lip and begging gaze that is way too cute to deny, he’ll cave. Perhaps finally realising it’s alright to lean on others.

He’ll still struggle with continuing the openness, but find relief in your loyalty and understanding. The way you intently listen to his troubles, there to hold his hand if he ever needs it, it makes his heart hurt to know how sweet and gentle you are.

Will keep you and Pesci separate during missions, he’s already getting a migraine from imaging everything that could go wrong without his guidance.

For someone who’s a little more on the dense side, you make up for it in emotional intelligence. Whenever you see how stressed he tends to get, eye twitching without even realising while his shoulders hunch together in discomfort, you come over to hug him. It’s something he had to get used to, the small gesture always calming him down enough to keep going.

Does not appreciate you slipping cute trinkets in his suit pocket. Especially not after finding a snail that one time. You’ve been forbidden from leaving pocket gifts since the incident.

Bruno:

It concerns Bruno just how clueless you can be from time to time. That one time they almost left you behind on a busy station with no cellphone because you found a coin on the ground made him realise you need some extra supervision.

He’s not the type to hold you back from doing things that are guaranteed to result in disaster (unless it’s literally deadly), he wants you to experience the consequences of your own actions.

You do make him hold back his laughter when you try out a stupid idea you know has failed in the past, but change your methods slightly to hope for better results. And you know what? Now he’s curious too.

The man has a weird sense of humour that sometimes even surprises you. He’ll copy your habit of picking up strange trinkets or rocks and asks you to compare findings with him. Like trading marbles, he’ll barter with a smirk.

“Mhh, if you give me that cute shell and that pointy rock... I’ll give you this keychain.” His alluring offer making you question if you’re getting swindled or not. “Hey! That shell is at least worth two stickers!” He’ll heartily laugh at your reply, a mischievous smile while thinking over the trade. “Ok, two stickers and a pebble then.”

With a firm handshake the deal goes through. The rest of the gang never knows how to respond, staring in amazement as their grown-ass capo barters with their grown-ass teammate. He loves being silly with you and forgetting all the pressures of life for just a moment.

Bruno takes his time opening up to you, but finds your presence so comforting it becomes very easy to trust you. As a vital part of his team he finds it important to be able to lean on each other for support and is glad you offer him just as much trust and loyalty.

Abbacchio:

Will never admit he can’t live without you anymore. You’ve become the shining beacon of assumed happiness the man never thought existed. He knows you won’t always be go-lucky and have your own troubles and struggles but admires how you handle them.

Don’t get me wrong, he’ll still gladly tease you for your occasional (well, more like frequent) stupidity. He’ll let you know with a big huff you should smarten up; “Read a book that doesn’t have pictures in it for once.”

He’ll be the first to correct any wrong info you’ve been given, unless he thinks it’s funny. Like when Mista made you believe you needed to order dessert at Libeccio or they’ll kick you out for breaking their beloved rule. It’s only when he saw the panic in your eyes when you finished your main course one day -too full for any sweets to come- that he assured you it was a dumb joke. (he’ll put all the blame on Mista)

Abbacchio seems to tether to people who have a positive influence on him without even realising, it won’t be obvious to him, but just like with his loyalty and admiration for Bruno, he’ll make sure you know it once he finds out.

Not that it’s a bad thing, his need to cling to anything that might help him stay afloat just needs to stay healthy. You didn’t even realise your effect on him, you were too busy trying to figure out a way to turn that scowl into that smirk.

After gifting him a handmade friendship bracelet that had the shortened versions of your names spelled on it, he hugged you. So tightly it was suffocating, you were shocked since he’s never been the touchy type. “Leone! I can’t breathe...” He’ll let go after the complaint but that look on his face will never leave your memory. The face of being loved unconditionally by choice, no matter how unworthy he might think himself of it.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

I finally finished it!! It only took a million years but it is done so pls enjoy it cause I worked really hard on it :,)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!myungjun, gn!dom!reader, anal (could be pegging but it's gender neutral so it can be whatever you want), degradation, choking (it only happens once for a split second), spanking, dacryphilia, blindfold, bondage, edging, bulging, master kink, use of a vibrator

Looks Are Deceiving

You truly did love your boyfriend with all your heart, and on any other day you would say he was a sweet angel that could do no wrong. Today, however, was not one of those days. You thought it would be fun to take Myungjun with you to a nice restaurant that had recently opened a little ways away but when he started to give you those eyes from across the table, you knew this night would go a little differently than planned.

     "But master~ You look so good tonight, how am I supposed to not think of you like that?" Your boyfriend said with a pout. He even tried to change your mind with a flash of his infamous puppy dog eyes you could never seem to say no to. While you wanted nothing more than to jump on him and give him everything he wanted, you also didn't want to be banned from the fancy restaurant you were currently sitting in. You let out a small sigh of irritation after swallowing the fork full of food you had shoved into your mouth.

     "Baby, I would love to take care of you right now but it isn't the right setting! So finish up eating and we'll get home, but if I hear you ask for it or complain one more time I won't touch you at all." Time seemed to freeze for Myungjun as soon as the words had left your mouth. He couldn't stop his jaw from dropping open slightly as he stared at you. Not touch him? Not touch him at all? You had to be joking. But as he kept watching you peacefully eat your meal he realized you were being dead serious. Your boyfriend let out an agitated huff as he picked at his food, only eating it with a roll of his eyes when you would send a glare his way.

     To be honest you had never really realized how often you would give into Myungjun until now. You hadn't really ever had a reason to tell him no, and how could you when he would ask with those big puppy dog eyes staring up at you? How could you have possibly known that would make him such a spoiled little brat? Never in a million years would you have thought that you would need to punish him for something since he had never seemed to break any of the rules you had set. Once you got in the car to drive home, however, you realized that he was a lot brattier than you had ever known.

     Almost as soon as you had gotten in the car he was begging for your touch again, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers as he told you all the things he wanted you to do to him. After he still wasn't able to get a reaction out of you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Literally.

     "Fine then! If you're not gonna touch me I'll just do it myself!" You weren't able to fully comprehend his words before hearing the zipper of his pants as he whipped his pretty little dick out, giving an over dramatic moan as the cold air hit his heated skin. As fate would have it the light ahead of you was red, giving you the opportunity to turn to your boyfriend and rip his hand away from himself. Before another complaint could leave his mouth you gripped his chin with your other hand, digging your nails in his cheeks and forcing him to look you in the eyes.

     "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He gulped at the anger in your eyes. "You think just because you're cute I'll give you whatever you want? Huh? You think that this-" you growled while shaking his hand that had previously been on his cock, "is the proper way to get my attention?!" 

     "I- I'm sorry mas-"

     "No! You wanted my attention, didn't you? Well now, you're gonna get it! But trust me sweetheart, this is not going to go how you think it will. Now fix yourself, I don't wanna see that thing until we get home, got it?" 

     "Y-yes master." He stuttered, squeezing his thighs together in the hopes you wouldn't notice how his dick twitched when you raised your voice.

—

     Myungjun's breath hitched in his throat when he heard the front door slam closed as you entered the house. He had been eagerly awaiting this moment, his mind creating many fantasies for him to feed into his desire the rest of the car ride home. You had given him the simple command of "Bedroom, now." and he did not need to be told twice. He was obediently sitting on the mattress once you got there, fully nude with white knuckles from how hard he was gripping his thighs. 

     "Alright sweetheart," you said, calmly walking over to sit on the edge of the bed, "we're gonna start off a little easy for you." He tilted his head as you pat your thighs, looking over at him expectantly. It finally clicked and he let out an over dramatic whine.

     "But master-" The harsh glare you sent his way was enough to shut him up, making him gulp before slowly draping himself over your thighs. You gave a small smile at the action, though it didn't reach your eyes.

     "Good boy! Now I want you to count loud and clear for every spank, alright?" He hastily nodded his head, his fingers digging into the fabric of the rug beneath him and bracing for impact. You tutted at him with disappointment, making him quickly mutter a quiet 'Yes master' to give you verbal confirmation that he understood. 

     The few quiet seconds that passed after that were almost unbearable. All Myungjun's senses were on edge, waiting for the moment he would feel the pleasant burn on his skin from where you'd hit him. When you finally landed the first blow of many, your boyfriend's jaw dropped open with a small gasp. It took him a few seconds but he finally stuttered out "O-one!" You made sure the second blow was even harder than the first, making his body lurch forward from the impact. "Two!"

     It continued like this for the next 12 spanks. You alternated between cheeks, sometimes even giving a harsh slap right where his thighs met his ass. He was panting and shaking on your legs and you were sure if you had looked there would be unshed tears glistening in his eyes. A part of you was worried you were being a little too rough with him but after landing the final hit you could feel a small spurt of pre-cum staining the dress pants you had worn. 

     "F-fifteen!" The number sounded pitiful as it fell from his lips, high-pitched and breathy as he started squirming around to subtly grind his cock into the side of your thigh. That dream was short lived, however, as you grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him up to sit next to you on the mattress. Your glare had him shivering as he struggled to keep eye contact with you. If you had noticed his pathetic attempt to get off, you didn't say anything. You simply pushed him back a little bit by his hair as you stood from the bed.

     "Back against the headboard." Myungjun didn't dare question your authority, immediately pushing back on his feet until he could feel the cool surface of the headboard against his back. While he was doing that, you walked over to the closet, digging around for a little bit before returning with your box of toys. You let him watch you with curious eyes as you pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a black, satin ribbon. Pushing him slightly down by his shoulders so his back was somewhat rested against the pillows, you clicked the cuffs in place around his wrist and secured them to the headboard. He tugged at them for a bit to test the sturdiness before you grabbed his jaw and made him face you so you could tie the ribbon carefully around his eyes. He whined at that one, pouting his lips as his vision went black.

     "Noooo! Master please, I wanna see your beautiful body as you destroy me!" He gasped as you harshly smacked his thigh.

     "You can do that after you've learned how to be a good boy. Only good boys get rewarded baby, you know this." His pout only deepened as he muttered about how unfair all this was. At the sound of you rustling through what he assumed to your toys his mouth snapped shut. There were a few moments of silence until he suddenly felt a cool object being tied against the head of his red and leaking cock. Once you seemed you had it secure, you grabbed the remote and twirled it between your fingers before letting the toy buzz to life. 

     Your boyfriend's body jolted as he felt the vibrator against the sensitive head of his dick, a waterfall of whimpers falling from his lips as he struggled to get used to the sudden pleasure. After a few minutes of you toying with the settings, his hips jutted up off the bed as he moaned helplessly. Sensing that he was close to his release, you suddenly turned off the toy. Myungjun whined in confusion as he thrusted his hips off the bed in search of friction.

     "No! Wha- master! I was so close!" He cried. You rolled your eyes as a sadistic smirk made its way to your lips.

     "Awwww, you didn't really think I'd let you cum so soon, did you? I told you baby," you said as you strutted to his side, letting your hands trace patterns around his chest before lightly resting around his throat, "only good boys get rewards." You gave a light squeeze as you finished your sentence, making him gasp and his head spin. He kept whining out complaints until you had decided he had waited long enough and started up the vibrator again. A disappointed whine left him again minutes later when you did the same exact thing again. You did it a couple more times until you could see the tears slipping past the blindfold as he begged for permission to cum.

     "Hmmmm, I don't know baby. Have you learned your lesson yet?" You hummed while teasingly running your nails up and down his chest.

     "Oh please master! I-I've been such a good- A-AH- good b-boy for you!  Please master, h-have mercy!" He whined, sobs tearing from his throat as his hips continuously bounced off the bed, desperate for a friction it wasn't going to get. You hummed, pretending to think about it before shutting off the toy again. He sobbed loudly, words indecipherable as he tried to beg for his release. You quickly untied the vibrator from his tip making him practically sob under your gaze. His cries catch in his throat as he feels the familiar head of your cock rub against his hole.

     "Now baby," you growled in his ear as you felt his hot breath coming out in short pants against your neck, "do you think you deserve to be stretched out before I fuck you open?" His lips trembled as you dug your nose into his skin, letting your lips softly follow it's trail.

     "N-no master…"

     "And why is that, huh?" He shivered as you grinded against him, letting him feel the lube you had coated it in while he was distracted by the vibrator.

     "B-because- because I decided t-to be an impatient l-little bitch and touch myself after you told me to wait until we got h-home." He whined, though you noticed how his dick twitched when he called himself a little bitch. 

     "Good boy! For giving your master such a good answer I'll take this off for you since I know you're just dying to watch me fuck you open, aren't you?" He vigorously nodded his head as he felt your tug lightly at the blindfold around his head.

     "Yes yes yes! W-wanna watch you destroy me, w-watch you punish me for being such a bad boy master!" You bit your lip with a growl, wasting no more time before ripping off the black satin cloth and thrusting the entirety of your length into him.

     Myungjun's back arched as his head snapped back into the pillows he was laying on. No noise escaped him as his jaw fell open, but after a few seconds a high pitched moan broke through the silence. His nails were digging into his palms as you started to move your hips, quickly picking up speed as the sound of slapping skin filled the room. Tears and drool were dripping down his face while his toes curled at the pleasure ripping through his body. He was trying his best to look up at you but every hit to his prostate (which you managed to find rather quickly) left his eyes rolling back in his skull so he could only watch the ceiling moving back and forth above him as every rough thrust made his body move with the impact. His task only proved harder after you lifted one of his legs over your shoulder, making you hit even deeper inside of him. 

     Finally, he managed to force his eyes to look at you. The sight of your gaze on him was enough to make him come undone, but he knew better than to do so without your permission. Your eyes were almost black with lust, a sadistic glint in them only proved to make the smirk you sported that much more intimidating. Your cheeks were slightly flushed from the energy you were exerting to make sure he would get to cum as soon as possible while a few loose hairs clung to your forehead from sweat. A shiver shot down his spine when he noticed your smirk growing wider as your gaze traveled lower, stopping at his lower stomach. The knot in his stomach felt like it was one second away from snapping as he looked down to notice the bulge of your cock against his lower stomach. All he could do was moan and cry as he blabbered about wanting to cum.

     "Oh master! P-ple- AH- please! Please please please please please! C-cum- I-I- oh god yes- wanna- I- oh please!!" You smirked down at his fucked out form, his eyes returning to rolling back in his head as his thighs shook around you. You hummed with a small smile while kissing up his thigh that was right by your head.

     "Go ahead baby, show your master how good they make you feel." The soft and caring tone of your voice strongly contrasted the filthy things you were doing to his body but it only proved to make him hornier as his entire body shuddered and he finally came. White ropes of his release covered his stomach, a little bit even ending up on his neck as you slowed the pace of your hips to ride him through it. You honestly considered making him go again but decided against it as you saw the tired expression that covered his face. 

     Slowly and carefully you set his leg down on the bed and pulled out of him, watching as he bit his lip with one last whimper. Releasing his wrists from the handcuffs you had put him in, you rubbed a cream over the red marks he had created from tugging at the material so they wouldn't bee too sore in the morning, making sure to rub it over his red bottom as well. You peppered kisses all over his face before muttering that you'd be right back and hurrying to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet washcloth to clean him up with. Once you had also gotten him a small snack and some water from your mini fridge you cleaned him off and laid down next to him, holding him close to your body and leaving light kisses over his skin.

     "How're you feeling baby? I know I went a little rougher than you're used to from me." You said with a chuckle, brushing some of his hair out of his face. A lazy smile lit up his face as he snuggled closer to you.

     "Good. Sooo good." He mumbled against your neck, making you giggle and press a kiss to the top of his head. You felt his breathing start to level out against your neck as he began to drift to sleep. Staring at him like a lovesick fool, you kissed him one last time before following him to dreamland.

[tanyawritesstories]

Friendly Competition | Boost x Reader

This is a fic I wrote a long time ago and I'm only now posting. I haven't written in months and I'm honestly thinking about quitting but regardless, here you go I hope you like it.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, vibrators, butt plugs, general mischief, anal exploration (the good kind), fluff, Sinker is nosey

•••

It wasn't often that you visited these kinds of stores. You usually just ordered the products from the holonet and waited for them to be delivered, but you were out and about with your boyfriend and it was his last day on leave. You both had been walking through the mid levels of Coruscant and seen the store. You decided it would be worth it to try and find something fun to spice things up while you were away.

You and Boost had both kept your jacket hoods up as you entered. Boost looked around curiously while you kept your head tilted down just enough to hide the permanent blush staining your cheeks. Sure, you'd been in sex toy stores before, but that time was with a group of friends where the attention wasn't on you and you could easily blend into the group and not be noticed.

Boost took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers together as you roamed the store, browsing. "You're not usually the shy one," he whispered. You looked up at him, finding a teasing smirk on his handsome face. Your face turned even more red and you buried your head in his chest, causing him to laugh. He put his arms around you and held you to him, loving how much bigger he was than you. You closed your eyes and nuzzled into him, resting the side of your head against his warm body. You listened to his heartbeat, it was one of the things that comforted you the most.

You opened your eyes after a moment and spotted an interesting object across the room. You broke away from Boost and made your way to it. Plucking the box off the shelf you glanced over it, a number of wicked ideas popping into your brain.

"Baby," you called sweetly, "come here please." You turned around and hid the box behind your back, watching as Boost walked closer with a suspicious look on his face. "Oh no," he said, "what've you found?" You smiled. "If I ask nicely will you wear this?" You brought the box out from behind your back. Boost's eyebrows shot up on his face as he looked at the image on the box.

"A vibrating buttplug?" He questioned. "Are you serious?" You giggled, "c'mon babe, it'll be fun." Boost crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

It was a recent discovery that Boost liked anal. You had been in the middle of giving him a mind shaking blowjob when you decided to be bold. Your fingers were slicked up with spit and precum so you had slowly pushed one fingertip inside him. He came instantly, letting out the most heavenly noises you'd ever heard him make. You both had discussed it afterwards and Boost had shown interest in exploring the realm further. You figured this was a good next step, you also loved to be a tease.

"Please Boostie, baby. Please! It'll be fun, I promise," you pleaded. "Look at you, begging in public," he teased. Your blush deepened and you glared at him through your eyelashes. "Please," you whispered. Boost sighed and stared at the ceiling, thinking. A sly smirk formed on his face, making you uneasy.

"I will wear that if.." he took a few steps back and picked something off another shelf, "..you wear these."

You looked at him in disbelief. "Vibrating panties? That's where you're taking this?"

"It's only fair," he said. "You wear these one day and I'll wear that the next." You thought about it, another fantastic idea coming to mind.

"Alright, you wear this one day on campaign and I have the controller. Then I'll wear those another day and give you the controller. When we get back and go to 79s like we always do, we'll both wear them."

Boost nodded. "The goal is you can't draw any suspicion, try to be as quiet and collected as possible while the other one of us teases the other with the controller. Whoever breaks first loses."

You nodded and walked to stand next to him. "No touching allowed, only tease with the vibrator. If anyone manages to guess exactly what we're both doing, which I doubt, then we both lose." Boost smiled, "Deal."

~~~~

Luckily, this campaign would be a short one, only a week long supply mission. You snuck your toy contraband into the cruiser with no trouble, hiding both small boxes amongst your clothes.

You were a strategist, normally coming up with battle plans. General Plo Koon had put you in charge of this mission, hoping to give you more assignments in the future that didn't just include destroying things.

The General was currently attending business at the Jedi temple, leaving you and Commander Wolffe in charge of the entire operation. You could tell Wolffe wasn't a fan of it, but he would do his job without complaint.

After the first couple days of traveling, the cruiser had arrived above the planet. The first day of delivering supplies to the surface was also the first competition day.

Boost had made sure that the vibrator was working and in its proper place when you got ready this morning. He had watched you the entire time you got ready, twirling the small controller in his hand giddily.

“You had better be nice,” you warned lightly. “Oh I won’t,” Boost laughed. He had a sexy but dangerous look in his eyes which was turning you on already. Not a good start.

The boring tasks of the day went by without any issue, until it was time for the briefing. You knew your boyfriend was bound to pull something here, but you didn’t know exactly what.

It’s ok, just act normal.

That was easier said than done.

The second you entered the room all eyes were on you, patiently awaiting the plan of action. You smiled at everyone and was making your way to the front of the room when you felt the vibrator start up. You let out a squeak and your knees buckled, you grabbed onto the table nearby for support. You laughed nervously and stood up straight, determined to win and keep a straight face.

“Alright everyone, classic supply mission nothing you all haven’t done before,” you started. Boost was sneaky, manipulating the controller without anyone knowing, spiking the intensity up and down quickly. The tiny jolts and deep breaths you were taking were causing a few of the men to give you weird looks as you talked.

“..and of course the remainder of the week will be spent making sure that the civilians have everything they neeeeed!” Your voice rose to a squeal at the end as you felt the vibrations increase significantly. You clenched your thighs together and your breathing picked up.

“Are you alright, sir?” You heard one of them ask. You looked up, eyes scanning the room, a few of the men looked concerned and others looked confused. You glanced over a Boost for a brief second to find him with a shit eating grin on his face, half hidden by his hand. The vibrations felt good, you just didn’t want it to feel good right now. The toy was positioned just over your clit, delivering pleasurable tingling that flowed through your body.

“Y/N.”

You stood up straight at the voice of Commander Wolffe, who was standing on the other side of the room. “Are you ok to continue, or are you not capable?” He questioned with an annoyed tone. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. “I’m alright, Commander,” you said. The rest of the briefing went by without too much of a hitch, Boost was still being a little shit but you were determined not to let him win.

The entire day was filled with frustration. Boost wouldn’t let up, bringing you to the precipice of orgasming in front of a few civilians you were talking to, you wanted to slap him for that one. Every time he turned the vibrations high your knees would bend and you’d let out either a yelp or a moan that you tried to cover up. It got to the point where one of the medics pulled you aside and asked if there was something seriously wrong. You were able to convince him that you were fine and just tired. You walked triumphantly back to your tent as the day ended. You had won this round.

~~~~

You woke Boost up by laying on top of him and nuzzling your nose into his neck. He groaned, reluctantly opening his eyes to find you already looking at him. A few days on the planet had passed and it was now Boost’s turn to compete. “What time is it?” He grumbled. “Oh six hundred,” you answered, getting off of him and kneeling on his sleeping mat. “What do we have to do today?” Boost rubbed his eyes. “Same thing we did yesterday only in a different part of the city,” you responded. Boost looked up at you and you smiled deviously. “Guess what you have to wear today,” you said. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the silicone plug. “Did you seriously wake me up this early just to put a buttplug in me?” He asked with almost disbelief in his voice.

You giggled. “Maaayybeee. Everybody else is going to wake up soon so I suggest we get a move on.” Boost groaned again and rolled onto his stomach, putting his hips up in the air. You removed his blanket and rubbed his back to calm him down, he turned his head so he could see what you were doing. You had to admit, your boyfriend looked incredibly hot in this position: head down, ass up. It was causing your own arousal to spike; who knew, maybe if he liked this he’d let you peg him sometime down the road.

“It’s not gonna hurt, is it?” He asked. You smiled warmly at him as your hands wandered lower, rubbing gently over his bum. “No, it shouldn’t, sweetie. We got the smallest one they had, it’s not much bigger than my fingers,” you told him. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to, Boost.” He took a deep, calming breath, “No, I want to do it.” You smiled and kissed his cheek, “I will have to get you ready first, ok? I’m just going to use my fingers to stretch you out a little so you can take the toy, ok?” Boost nodded and verbally agreed.

You fished the small bottle of lube out of your pocket and slid his blacks and briefs down to his thighs. “You have a very cute butt, baby,” you commented, causing Boost to laugh. You touched your fingers to the crease where his ass and thigh met, slowly running your fingers up to their destination. Boost sucked in a breath as your fingers danced over his hole and his muscles tensed up. “You have to relax, baby,” you cooed, “otherwise it might hurt. Do you want me to touch your cock too? Might help you relax.” Boost shook his head and balanced his upper half on his elbows. “No, we agreed to no touching, just do what you have to do to get it in,” he urged.

You complied and reminded him to relax. You squirted some lube onto your index finger and some onto his hole, spreading it around. “I’m going to put my finger in now, ok?” Boost nodded and took a deep breath, exhaling when you told him to. On his exhale his muscles loosened and you slowly pushed your finger in just past the first knuckle. You could hear him bite back a moan and his breathing started picking up a little bit. You waited until he got used to it before beginning to thrust your finger in and out, pushing it a little bit deeper every time.

“How is it?” You asked. He let out a shaky breath. “Just get the plug in, I won’t last long if you keep doing that,” he breathed. You smiled, it was a good feeling knowing that you could get your boyfriend to the brink of bliss with just a finger in his ass. You carefully added a second finger, repeating the same slow motions and techniques to gently stretch him out. When you thought he was ready, you lubed up the toy and removed your fingers, enjoying the whining sound he made when he was empty.

You rested the toy against his ass and slowly pushed it in. Boost bit his lip to hold back the indecent noises threatening to spill out. "Just a little further," you encouraged. You used your other hand to trace his V lines and divert his attention to get him to relax. He shuddered and you noticed the erection that was being held down with the front of his briefs. One last small push on your part and the plug came to a rest inside him.

Boost let out a breath and you chuckled. "There's a good boy. How's it feel?" You questioned. He shifted his hips and wiggled around, trying to get used to the feeling. "It's a bit….odd," he said. You pulled his blacks and briefs back up and spanked him. "Stand up, it'll feel different," you urged, standing up yourself. He stood up with a sigh and a weird look in his face. "I think I'll get used to it," he said. "Let's start the day."

~~~~

This was fun, you were having a great time messing with your boyfriend. It had only been little things so far on the low to medium settings of the vibrator. You had teased just enough to make him squirm a bit. Once you did it while he was moving a box of supplies and he dropped the box, which nearly landed on his foot. You hadn't used the higher settings yet, you were saving those to make a big scene that you hoped would break Boost and give you the win.

That time came when the work for the day was done. Boost, Sinker, Comet and several other troopers were sitting around a table playing an intense game of Sabacc. You were sitting at a nearby table going over the plans for tomorrow and making sure everything would be taken care of by the time the battalion had to leave the planet. From your spot you had a clear view of Boost and could hear everything being said at their table. Time to start your game.

You turned the vibrator on and upped it a couple notches. You heard Boost suck in a breath and saw him tense up, but he steadied himself and continued. You let it go for a little while before cranking it a bit higher. He took a deep breath and glanced up at you, but you had your head back in the plans already. You waited a couple more minutes until Boost was once again concentrated on his game.

You kept your eyes on Boost as you cranked the vibrator up all the way. He instantly dropped his cards with a shout and clamped his hands on his knees. He was biting down hard on his bottom lip and his knuckles were turning white from his tight grip on his legs. You heard his brothers asking if he was alright and Boost tried to explain it away as a leg cramp, which wasn’t convincing at all. Boost took a few deep breaths, calming himself down and picking his cards back up. He wiggled a bit and leaned forwards in his seat so there was less pressure on the plug as opposed to sitting directly on it. After a few seconds their game continued as normal, you tried again a few times after that but got only small reactions from him. Boost looked over at you and winked, knowing he had won his round as well. You held back the urge to bonk him on the head, it would all come down to the final round in a few days.

~~~~

The supply mission had been a success, the citizens of the planet were grateful for the aid and they were well on their way to the complete restoration of their cities when the 104th had left. Now, back on Coruscant, Boost and yourself were just arriving at 79s where several more of his brothers waited. You were both wearing your toys tonight as part of the game that had been discussed. This was the final round, whoever broke, if anyone could, would be the loser. Neither of you had talked about a prize or reward for the winner, both too caught up in the idea of a fun and arousing game.

Boost and you entered the club and found his brothers waving you over to the table they had occupied already. You greeted them with smiles and went to sit down. The moment your butt hit the seat, Boost cranked the vibrations up high and you yelped, trying to stand back up and striking your knee hard on the underside of the table. Wildfire asked if you were ok and you assured him that you were before sliding uncomfortably into the booth to make room for Boost to sit next to you.

Warthog brought several drinks back to the table from the bar and you all chatted, laughed, and drank carelessly, enjoying the free time spent together. Boost was halfway through taking a sip of his beer when you turned his vibrator on, causing him to spit some of it back into his glass on reflex. He began coughing to try and cover up the moan he nearly let slip, all while you tried to hold back giggles and whimpers of your own.

A few minutes later, Boost put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. It was nothing out of the usual for his brothers to see, but under the table he used his leg to nudge yours apart allowing your vibrator to land directly on your clit. You bit your lip and leaned your head into his chest, hoping none of them saw the blissed out look on your face. You turned Boost’s vibrator up a bit but he didn’t react, he’d gotten used to it and it was pissing you off. You were determined not to let him win.

When he least expected it, you carefully reached your hand over, under the cover of the table, and cupped his slowly growing length. You felt him buck into your hand and you made a point to be discreet, carrying on with conversation so no one suspected anything. You started rubbing Boost through his pants at which point he lowered his mouth to your ear. “You’re cheating,” he growled. You smiled and laughed, pretending he whispered a joke into your ear. “Yeah, well so are you,” you whispered back. You tried tugging your spread leg out from where he had it trapped under his own, but it was no use, Boost was strong. He glared at you and you glared right back for a few seconds until you both went back to acting normal, but Boost had an idea.

The next round of drinks came and the boys were starting to get more buzzed. You had your drink set on the table in front of you, you were about to reach for it when Boost reached across you in a hurry and knocked the glass of beer over. You gasped as the liquid spilled all down the front of you, you immediately knew he had done it on purpose, there was no way he didn’t. The rest of the boys asked if you were alright and you told them that there was no harm done.

“You want help cleaning that up, babe?” Boost asked, a suggestive look in his eyes. “Yes, that would be very helpful,” you replied. Boost told the boys that you would both be back soon before leading you back to the one-room refresher at the back of the club. As soon as the door was closed and locked, Boost was pushing you up against the wall, his lips colliding heatedly with yours. You made out, wrapping a leg around his hips to bring him closer and you could feel his hardened length against your thigh.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to restrain myself from pouncing on you while this thing was in my ass?” He asked, his breathing shallow. “I swear I’ve never been more turned on in my life.” You smirked and brought your leg down. “I think we can make an arrangement,” you purred. You hooked your fingers on your panties and dragged them down your legs while Boost bunched your skirt up around your waist. “Fuck, you’re glistening,” he observed. Boost kicked your legs apart and slowly ran a finger up and down your slit, collecting your juices. You whimpered, his actions sending pleasure radiating through your body.

You quickly worked on unzipping his pants and shoving them down to his knees, watching his long cock spring free of its restraints. You whimpered at the sight and Boost felt your hole flutter as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Fuck the rules, I’m going to take you hard and fast against this wall, that ok?” Boost asked breathlessly. “Don’t make me wait,” you replied with a devious smile. You smashed your lips into his and Boost lined himself up before slamming inside you in one powerful thrust.

You screamed as your back arched from the feeling, your noises drowned out by the loud music. Boost’s cock always filled you so nicely and you felt him twitch inside you. “Holy fuck, this feels good, shiiiit,” Boost moaned loudly. You then remembered while you had taken off your vibrating panties, Boost still had his vibrator nestled snugly inside his asshole. He started to fuck you at a fast pace making noises you’d never heard your boyfriend make before, moaning and whimpering so loud you were glad for the blaring music outside. You wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, meeting his thrusts and kissing his neck.

“Fuck, Boost, please harder,” you begged. Boost held you against him, absolutely destroying your pussy with the speed of his thrusts, the pleasure blaring through your body. “Babe, turn it up,” he grunted, “turn it up all the way and play with your clit, I’m close.” You fished the controller for his vibrator out of its hiding spot in your bra and turned it on max. You dropped the controller on the floor and used that hand to massage hard circles on your clit bringing you as close to release as your boyfriend.

Boost was overwhelmed with pleasure, his body felt like it was on fire. The plug in his ass was vibrating away, the feeling of being stuffed in his ass and strangled by your walls at the same time was mind blowing and Boost felt his release coming on fast. “I want you to cum before I do, baby,” he moaned, “aahhh, c’mon sugar, play with that clit.” His words in his voice only brought you closer, you could feel his cock twitching within you and with a few more strokes over your clit, you were cumming. White hot, liquid pleasure surged through you and your walls clamped tight around Boost’s cock. He thrusted a few more times and then stilled, his balls tightening as he shot his load deep inside you.

He reached behind him and pulled the plug out, letting it fall to the floor. He held you tight to him as your breathing settled down and you both came down from your highs. You both laughed and picked up your mess, washing off the vibrators and deciding not to wear them for the rest of the night. You both got dressed and tried your best to look like you hadn’t just fucked in the refresher of a club. You shared a sweet kiss before heading back out to the table.

Sinker was the only one still sitting at the table, the others had either gone to dance or get another drink. You sat down across from Sinker and Boost pulled you into his side. “So did you guys finally get those things out of your asses?” Sinker asked out of nowhere. You looked confused. “What things?” Sinker motioned vaguely to his lower body. “Those vibrators I assume you guys were wearing,” he answered like it was the most normal thing ever. “How did you know?” Boost asked, stunned that his brother had managed to figure it out. Sinker sat back in his seat, looking proud of himself. “I’m just that good,” he said. You and Boost shot him a guilty glare and he sighed. “I saw the packages in the trash,” he admitted.

You rolled your eyes and Boost laughed. “We tried so hard to be sneaky and we didn’t think to hide the packaging,” your boyfriend mused. “I guess this means we both lose,” you pointed out. Boost nodded in agreement and planted a kiss to the top of your head.

You’ll think of something better next time.

[panharmonium]

Hi! It’s me again. I was really happy when I saw your reply, and I’ve been meaning to write a response to it this whole time, but the past few weeks have been so hectic, and I haven’t found the time to sit down and write out my thoughts in a somewhat coherent way :(

I really really want to continue watching Naruto right now.. but I find that I can’t handle the workload from uni yet, and I have a bunch of exams and resits coming up in the next few months. I know the next part is going to be really exciting and that there are some major plotpoints and long awaited backstories that will finally be revealed. And especially because of that I think I’ll try and wait until the all important exams are finished to continue, because I know I would be way to invested :’)

So I’ll probably be back in a few months, if you don’t mind and are still interested in talking about it then😳 And I want to write a response to your previous reply after I’m done with the exam next week and can organise my thought a bit better:)

(On a happier note: I’m in med school right now, and the whole situation with covid sucked. But this series has really motivated me to get through it and appreciate the courses(also because I felt so unsure at first with all the online lessons and sitting at home). Especially cool medic characters like Tsunade and Sakura.

My main complaint with the first part of Naruto was also the lack of development of the female characters, but I really liked what they did with Sakura at the beginning of Shippuden. Because how I saw it was that she was in a team with two other by no means ‘normal’ kids, one having the sharingan and the other having a literal tailed beast inside him, whereas she is just a normal person. And I like how she had enough of not being able to really help the others in fights, stepped up at the end of part one and decided to hone her own own talents (especially her accurate control of chakra), to be able to contribute to the team in her own way. I dunno seeing her do the operation on Kankuro in the first arc just made me so happy and her development helped me find motivation for my own major again and made me realise how I can contribute to society later, if I managed to stay in med school :)

I just hope that they don’t mess up her character development later on. I was honestly so frustrated when she still said she loved Sasuke and believed in him so much after she, Naruto and Kakashi meet Sasuke for the first time in Shippuden and Sasuke tries to murder her in cold blood..

But anyways sorry for the rant🤗

Oh and also, I wanted to ask, where do you read the manga? I’ve been thinking about buying the box set, but sometimes I feel like the translations by viz feel a bit off?

Hi again!  No worries about the delayed response; I was off tumblr for a couple weeks myself, so I’m super late getting to this also!

Sakura in Season 1 is SO GREAT.  S1 of Shippuden as a whole is just so good; I came out of early Naruto expecting kind of more of what we’d already seen before, but then Shippuden started and I was like “wait.  wait this is....legitimately awesome.  this is an entirely different show!!!”  Not that Part 1 was bad - I love it now, in its own way - but Shippuden legitimately grabbed my interest without me having to do any extra work.  I was hooked from the first minute.

(Hearing you talk about med school and being inspired by Sakura and Tsunade is making me think of another thing from this show that I expect you’ll like, but I think it’s past the point where you’ve paused in your watching; so I won’t say anything about it other than to agree with you - they are awesome!)

Re: that Team 7 reunion arc - yeah, that was a tough one!  (It was really good, but ouch, the emotions...)  Sakura’s arc in those episodes doesn’t bother me, personally, just because I think the fact that she and Naruto and Kakashi never fully give up on Sasuke is the point of the show - it’s what I expected from them, all the way from the beginning.  I do think Sakura still undergoes a significant arc in those episodes - I love the fact that this whole arc is preceded by her grappling with an attempt to give up on him - to kill him, in fact - in order to relieve the burden that Naruto is carrying (and that Kakashi tries to then assume in both of their places, to spare them the horror).  The ruthlessness she displays in pursuit of that goal (using and discarding her teammates, lying to her friends and teachers, preparing to carry out a literal assassination) and the way she tries to do everything completely on her own is totally unprecedented behavior for her, and you can see how much of an impact Sai’s confrontation had on her - she feels like she isn’t justified in trying to save Sasuke anymore (or asking other people to try to save him on her behalf) because he just keeps hurting the people she cares about no matter how much they try to help him.  She thinks it’s her job to clean up this mess.  But it’s like - well, I want to compare this to something from later in the show, but I’ll refrain and just say that Sakura, in trying to kill Sasuke, is trying to do something that goes fundamentally against her nature, something that will cause her unspeakable pain, and the fact that she can’t do it is something that I appreciate, personally.  That’s the story we were set up for at the beginning of the show.  That’s what the bells arc was laying the groundwork for.  That’s the story I signed up for.  It’s what I expect to happen.  

(Does Sasuke deserve that kind of love from her?  No, maybe not, not at that moment.  But I think the point of this particular fictional story is that sometimes people love us better than we deserve, and that this kind of radical love can save us.)

So that’s why it doesn’t bother me, personally.  But I also think it’s fine to have complicated feelings about it - the characters involved certainly do! :)

Re: the manga - I work at a library, so I borrowed copies from within my library network.  I understand the translation frustration - I speak multiple languages, and while I love having that background, it does mean that I experience a special kind of angst when I’m working with a language I don’t have a working knowledge of and can’t just look up the source word being used in a given situation and understand the specific connotation/association behind it.  I prefer to do close readings of texts when I’m analyzing media, but that’s not remotely accurate when working with multiple translations that don’t always agree (eg, the dub, the sub, the manga), so I’ve had to just try to relax and let that frustration go. X)

I’ll probably be back in a few months, if you don’t mind and are still interested in talking about it then

Of course!  My Naruto obsession is not fading anytime soon; you are welcome to come back and chat about it anytime! :D

[thegirlonpeetamellark]

Christmas Break - Part 1

Surprise!! After a looong time away Court returns to Everlark fic world with a little holiday treat for everyone  - enjoy! :)

Hi everyone. So 2020 has sucked. For me, the beginning of quarantine was actually a bit of a gift. Being home gave me the gift of time, something I haven’t had much of as my daughters (who were very little when I started writing in this fandom) have gotten older. While I never stopped writing, it was a struggle to find long enough chunks of time to get into a flow. I started writing again with earnest. Not all of it was my fanfiction; some of it was my original work. El keeps me posted on the humbling and kind asks she gets about my writing. I felt bad that despite my increased writing, I still wasn’t ready to update any WIPs. But I did remember a story I had started for the final holiday PiP that I was never able to get past the first page (due to lack of time that year) and to my surprise, it started flowing. I had every intention of finishing it and having El post it as a gift to this fandom. But once my school went “back” in October and hybrid learning started, that was it. My time was gone. And further, my family experienced the very sudden and non-Covid-related death of my aunt. So while I have nearly half of this story written, it’s not done. But it will be, very soon, since it is a one-shot. As with all my stories, it took on a life of its own and it needs more love. So what I have for the readers who have loyally followed me is the first part, the part that involves Christmas. It’s my hope to have a second part posted in a week or two, so that by the time that part posts, a final part is nearly done. 

Thank you for your asks and your patience, and thank you to El, one of my favorite people in this world and the best thing my time in this fandom has given me. Thank you for your encouragement. Our friendship means the world to me. 

Here’s to a better 2021. Love to you all. Court

Christmas Break

Fuck, not again, Peeta grouses as the opening notes of that insidious Mariah Carey song pipe through the loudspeaker. That’s the third time in the last two hours. He’s all for holiday spirit, but if he never hears this fucking song again it will be too soon.

Leaning his forehead against the cold pane of glass, he peers out of the fourth-story window into the darkened sky. When he had arrived at work a few hours ago, the snow had just been starting to fall; a slow, lazy tumble of flakes. Now it’s coming down in a tumultuous swirl. It figures Panem would finally see a white Christmas his first Christmas Eve on rotation in the emergency room. No doubt the weather is partially to blame for the crush of bodies crowding the waiting room tonight. 

Peeta walks away from the window and opens the cabinet where he stashes his Clif bars. The economy-sized box looks suspiciously closer to empty than it did the other day. He’s heard complaints from other doctors and nurses that snacks are pilfered on a regular basis and was warned to label his own boxes. But he had forgone the warnings. If someone needed an energy bar badly enough to steal one, what was the $20 he had spent on them at Costco. He snags one and unwraps it. 

He’s just raised it to his mouth when his Apple watch pings and his silenced cell phone pulses insistently against his thigh. Heaving a loud sigh, he sets down the energy bar and withdraws the phone from his pocket. 

“Mom, you’ve got exactly 60 seconds,” he grits out. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to confirm it’s her. She’s called twice already tonight, calls he’s ignored with good reason, but somehow his mother thinks a phone call from her trumps any actual emergencies her doctor son could be dealing with. Which, tonight, have been nonstop since his shift began at six. 

“Please tell me you ate something,” she begins. 

“I was just about to, when you called,” he replies. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes. It’s been utter chaos for the last four hours.” 

“We missed you at dinner. I can’t remember the last Christmas Eve when I didn’t have all three of my boys together.” Peeta closes his eyes. All these years my mother has been gushing about having a doctor in the family, and yet she never stopped to consider the ramifications of actually having a doctor in the family, he thinks. Particularly its impact on holiday gatherings. She obviously hadn’t learned anything from this past Thanksgiving, as now, just a month later, she’s already dumping a fresh guilt trip on him for missing another family dinner.

She continues, “And Jackson and Maxwell were just devastated when they heard you weren’t coming, until I assured them they’d see you tomorrow. We will see you tomorrow, yes?” 

Peeta suppresses another exasperated sigh and breaks off a chunk of the Clif bar. “Yes, Mom, I’ll be there.” And though it’s childish, he crams the bar into his mouth and mumbles around it, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” His chewing masks the sarcasm that weighs down the words. 

“Excellent. We need an updated family portrait before Everly and Rye have to leave for her parents’ house.” Placated, his mother moves to ends the call, but not before getting in a less-than-subtle comment about how much she adores his brother Rye’s fiancée and how happy she is Rye is settling down. 

Staring at the disconnected call flashing on the screen, Peeta tries not to let the remark get to him. Mostly because he knows it’s a lie. His mother has complained more than once about Everly and how she’s not good enough for Rye. Peeta knows the dig was directed at him. He hasn’t truly had a serious girlfriend since junior year of college; just a few casual relationships that barely qualified as relationships. He doesn’t know how his mother expects him to meet someone with the hours he keeps. And his father, for as close as they are, never seems willing to jump to Peeta’s defense. 

Taking a deep breath to let his irritation suffuse, he jams his phone back in his pocket and scarfs down the rest of his pathetic dinner. All three bites of it. Then he uses the restroom, dutifully washes his hand, and stalks out of the staff lounge, his short break over.

As he strides up the corridor, he hears loud shouting coming from the ER waiting room. 

“…should be asleep in her bed, waiting for Santa Claus to come, but instead, we’re still here waiting for someone to take a look at her arm! It’s been over two hours! Don’t you people have any compassion? Or is Ebenezer Freaking Scrooge running this place tonight?”

Curious, Peeta veers towards the reception desk, where his eyes land on the ranting woman. She’s young, probably no older than her mid-twenties, and in spite of the fact that her dark hair is spilling out of a messy braid and she’s not wearing any makeup, Peeta is immediately struck by her beauty. The rosy flush to her cheeks from her tirade actually makes her even prettier. She’s cradling a toddler and protectively shielding the little girl’s right arm. The toddler’s blonde head rests on her mother’s shoulder, her thumb wedged into her tiny pink mouth. Her left arm clutches a stuffed orange cat. She looks tired. Actually, both mother and daughter do. 

“Miss, I understand your frustration, I really do,” the receptionist says calmly, her eyes cutting to Peeta as he stops by her side. He reads the name on the file on top of the stack, the next patient scheduled to be seen: MCMURPHY, JOSEPH. Clearly not the little girl in front of him. 

“I don’t think you do!” the young mother cries, her eyes flashing steel. “She’s three, she’s in pain, and she’s scared. And what’s more, I’ve seen at least five people go ahead of us who came in after us!” 

“That’s not how the emergency room works, miss,” the receptionist replies. She drums her fingertips on the desk, offering the young mother a tight smile. 

“It’s Christmas Eve,” the young mother adds, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. Discreetly, Peeta moves around the receptionist’s chair, scanning the desktop until he spies the stack of files for the patients awaiting admission. While the receptionist continues to give the young mother the run-around, he thumbs through the stack, searching. His eyes land on what he’s looking for: a date of birth. His lips tip up. Bingo. This has to be it: HAWTHORNE, IVY ANN. 

At the exact second his hand snatches Ivy’s file from the pile and slips the other one in amongst the stack, the young mother’s eyes lock on his. Her gaze narrows. He can see the exhaustion all over her beautiful face. Her full lips twitch, her countenance suspicious as they stare at one another. 

“Ivy Hawthorne?” Peeta taps the file he had extricated. An immediate flicker of relief lights the young mother’s mercury eyes, and that lush mouth breaks into a grateful, relieved smile. The receptionist’s neck snaps up. “I’ve got this,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for her to argue with him. It’s not protocol for Peeta to take a patient directly, but it’s also not blatantly against the rules. Sure, it might mean a little more work for him, but if it means he can get this little girl home sooner on Christmas Eve, it’s worth it.

He smiles at the little girl. “Ivy, I’m Doctor Mellark. I’m going to help make you feel better, okay?” She nods once but doesn’t lift her head from her mother’s shoulder. Peeta’s arm sweeps to the side, ushering the young mother and Ivy past the desk. He scans the hallway and spies a partially drawn curtain halfway up the corridor. He leads them to the available partition and close the curtain behind them. As he turns to face them, he nearly slams into the woman. She hasn’t moved, and her luminous grey eyes fasten to his. She looks as if she’s going to say something, but several seconds pass and she’s still quiet, still watching him. The silence starts to become uncomfortable. Peeta clears his throat.  

“If you’d have a seat, please, Mrs. Hawthorne. You can hold her while I get some more information from you.” 

The young woman’s lips part slightly, again appearing as if she wants to say something, but instead she shuffles forward and Peeta waits while she settles on the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly adjusting Ivy so she’s sitting sideways across her mother’s lap. 

Peeta sinks down onto the stool and scoots towards the edge of the bed. This close he has a much better look at Ivy’s mother. She really is a beautiful young woman, and given how adorable Ivy is Peeta assumes her husband is probably also very attractive. He feels a twinge of jealousy. Lucky bastard. Pretty wife, cute kid…probably has a nice little house and a golden retriever too. Living the dream. His dream, if he allows himself to admit it to anyone but his mother. If he was being perfectly honest, he had always envisioned himself married by now. 

“How old are you, Ivy?” he ask, even though he knows from her chart and her mother’s declaration that she’s three years old. She hesitates, and still clutching the stuffed cat, manages to display three fingers. Peeta smiles at her again.

“I have a nephew who is the exact same age as you are. He told me just last week that he’s a big boy now. Are you a big girl, Ivy?” He keeps his tone gentle, hoping it will put her at ease with him. She nods, her big blue eyes lightening imperceptibly. “I thought so. Can you be a big girl and tell me what happened to your arm?” 

Her mother answers automatically, “She fell. I was only gone—” Peeta holds up his palm. He has the triage nurse’s initial assessment, so he knows Ivy’s arm is likely broken. What he doesn’t know is how the arm got broken. And those details he needs to try to get from Ivy herself. Kids her age always tell the truth when it comes to how they were injured, and unfortunately it’s part of Peeta’s job to make sure there isn’t a more sinister reason she’s in the E.R. tonight, no matter how sweet and innocent her mother appears. He’s already had a few encounters with suspected child abuse, though his gut tells him that isn’t the case with Ivy Hawthorne.

“Please. I would like Ivy to tell me how it happened.” 

Something dangerous flints in Ivy’s mother’s now stormy grey eyes.

“She. Fell.” The words are curt, enunciated coolly, but her voice is soft and Peeta can tell she’s keeping her temper in check for the benefit of her daughter. Eyes still pinned to his, she inhales deeply. A second later, her shoulders relax. “Go ahead and tell the nice doctor how you hurt your arm,” she whispers, stroking Ivy’s curls. 

“I was trying to see Santa,” Ivy replies, her tongue tripping in a lisp on the “S’s.” 

“What do you mean by that?” he prompts her. 

Ivy scrunches up her button nose. “I was trying to see up the chimney. ‘Cause the chimney at Aunt Katniss’s house is so skinny and Santa Claus is real fat and I don’t know how he’s gonna fit down it to bring me my presents!” Her blue eyes brim with tears and her lower lip starts to tremble. Peeta reaches over and pats her knee. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that, sweetheart. Santa Claus is magic. He’ll get you your presents, no matter what the chimney looks like.” He exchanges a look with her mother. 

“It was all my fault,” she says quietly. “I went in the kitchen, to get the cookies and milk—”

“And the carrots! For Rudolph and the other reindeer!” Ivy chimes in, her eyes shiny wet. 

“I never should have left her alone, not even for a second. This is my fault. It’s my fault. She wouldn’t have slipped and fallen off the hearth if I had been watching her.” Guilt chokes her words, and it sounds as if she’s close to tears. 

“Accidents happen, Mrs. Hawthorne,” Peeta says empathetically, “that’s why there are emergency rooms.” She presses her lips together, her brows knitting.  

“It’s Everdeen,” she says quietly. Peeta drops his eyes to Ivy’s chart, and furrows his brows, his gaze wandering to the young woman’s left hand. No ring. A brief thrill curls through him at the thought that she’s single. Asshole, he immediately chides himself. So not what you should be thinking about right now. He scans the chart more carefully and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, “but this lists Primrose Hawthorne as the mother, under the Parent/Guardian information, and a Rory Hawthorne as the father. I just assumed—”

She cuts him off. “Primrose Hawthorne was her mother. But I’m not Primrose Hawthorne. I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I’m her aunt. I should be listed as her primary emergency contact.” She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut briefly. When she opens them, they plead with his. Peeta glances down at Ivy, and then raises his eyes to Katniss again. The guilt that was clouding those silver irises a moment ago has dissipated, replaced with anguish. He doesn’t know what the full story is here, but he didn’t miss Katniss’s usage of the past tense in referring to Ivy’s mother. So he honors her silent appeal not to ask questions.

“Okay, Ivy, you fell, and you landed on your arm? I bet that hurt,” Peeta says to the little girl, but his gaze stays fastens on Katniss. She gives him the faintest smile and mouths, “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, the orthopedist informs Peeta that Ivy Hawthorne is ready for his approval to be discharged. Not wanting to keep her and her aunt waiting any later than necessary, he sets down the X-ray he had been studying, and heads back to where Ivy is. 

Standing outside the curtain, he hears quiet singing. He draws back the curtain and sees Katniss seated on the bed, with Ivy nestled in her lap. A bright pink cast safely cocoons the girl’s arm. Her blonde head rests on Katniss’s shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and her little body rises and falls with the deep breathing of sleep. 

Katniss continues to sing, unaware of Peeta’s presence. He doesn’t recognize the tune she’s singing. It’s not a Christmas carol, at least not one he’s ever heard before, but he continues to listen, captivated by her voice. It’s soft and decidedly feminine, but there’s raspy undercurrent to it that gives him chills. It’s like the first sip of a rich, smoky bourbon.

Gingerly, he tiptoes towards the bed and stands before her for several more minutes, until Katniss finally lifts her eyes. She immediately stops singing. Peeta smiles and nods towards Ivy.

“Someone is worn out,” he whispers. Katniss’s lips twitch into a chagrinned smile. 

“I’m sure the second we get home she’ll be wide awake and it’ll take forever to get her into bed. She was already amped up about Santa Claus before this.” She tips her head and gestures with her chin towards Ivy’s arm. 

“Warm milk. With a little bit of cinnamon,” he suggests. 

“Really?” Her eyes round. “Cinnamon? That really works?” Disbelief clouds her words. He shrugs sheepishly.

“I have no idea. No kids. And I’ve never had much trouble sleeping. I’m usually asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. But I’ve heard from a friend with a toddler that it does the trick.” He waits for her to say something—anything—in response, but she doesn’t. Her gaze is back on the sleeping toddler in her arms. 

Watching her stare tenderly at her niece causes something unexpected to claw at Peeta’s chest and he’s overwhelmed by a fierce compulsion to want to keep her here, to get to know more about her. It’s been a long time since he felt this kind of instant attraction to a woman. Why couldn’t he have met her under different circumstances? 

“Are we all done, doctor?” 

Peeta startles from his thoughts and offers Katniss an apologetic smile.

“Yes, sorry. You are good to go as soon as you sign here—” He holds the clipboard at an angle, to allow her to sign without having to disturb Ivy, “and here.” He flips the sheet back to the second page and she scrawls her name across the line there, too. Normally a nurse would go over discharge papers and protocol with patients, but Peeta had taken it upon himself to grab Ivy’s. He needed to spend every possible minute in Katniss’s presence. 

Once the release forms are complete, he review the plan for Ivy’s follow-up care, including how to manage any pain she has and when she’ll need to return to have the cast removed. Katniss listens attentively. 

When he’s finished, she stands up slowly, her movements tentative so as not to jostle Ivy. A sigh parts the little girl’s lips and she stirs, but she remains asleep. God, she’s cute, Peeta thinks. 

“Thank you, Dr. Mellark,” Katniss says softly. “For everything. I know what you did…” She falters. “I mean, I know we, ah, weren’t next, and ah…” Peeta waves a hand dismissively, sensing her discomfort with his hijacking of the queued patients.  

“It was my pleasure,” he replies. “Little girls should be home on Christmas Eve. Waiting for Santa.” He echoes Katniss’s earlier words. “I hope he’s good to her.” 

He doesn’t miss the forlorn expression that flits across Katniss’s face as she glances down at her sleeping niece. 

“He can’t bring her what she wants most, but he’ll try,” she murmurs and moves towards the open curtain. Just before she steps out into the hall, she pauses and turns to face Peeta.

“Merry Christmas,” she adds.  

“Merry Christmas,” he concurs. With a faint smile, she steps around the curtain. It rustles in her wake and resettles. Peeta exhales and slumps against the wall, regret washing through him, followed by a stronger wave of sadness at seeing Katniss go. If it hadn’t been for Ivy, he might have concocted some kind of delay to keep Katniss here longer, found some excuse to pry more information out of her. Like if she’s single. A surge of adrenaline spikes in his blood. He can’t let her go this easily.

He bolts out into the corridor, scanning the bustling hallway for any sign of Katniss and Ivy, but they’ve vanished. Disappointed, his shoulders slump as he trudges towards the nurses’ station to hand off Ivy’s file. 

It’s probably best, a nagging little voice inside him taunts, and he reluctantly concedes that it probably is. As much as he’d love to finally shut his mother up and find a woman that he’d want to spend more than a night with, it’s not fair to subject one to the kind of schedule he has to keep. New doctors are low-man-on-the-totem-pole. He’s had mostly graveyard shifts and he’s often on call. It’s his dream to have a pediatric practice, but he’s well aware that he’ll have to toil for a couple of years to get on track to make that dream a reality. 

A few minutes later, en route to his next examination, Peeta spies Johanna, one of the triage nurses, coming out of the room Ivy had occupied. His eyes immediately narrow when his gaze lands on her left arm.

“Was that in there?” He motions towards the vacated room and then nods towards the stuffed cat Johanna has wedged under her armpit. 

“What, the cat? Yeah. It must have fallen under the bed. I’ll take it to the station, in case someone comes back to claim it.” 

Ivy’s cherubic little face flashes in Peeta’s mind. He remember how fiercely she had been clutching that cat, and how she had reluctantly agreed to put it down when it had been time for Delly, another one of the triage nurses, to take her for X-rays. 

Peeta’s pulse quickens and he immediately thrusts his hand towards Johanna. “I’ll take it,” he says impulsively. She wrinkles her nose and cocks her head, her hazel eyes intensely scrutinizing him. Though they have a casual friendship, Johanna is far too insightful for her own good. Peeta doesn’t really need her questioning his motives for taking possession of the toy. 

“The little girl it belongs to goes to preschool with Max. I’ll make sure he takes it to her after the holiday break.” Fuck, that lie flew off his tongue so easily he almost believes it himself. Johanna shrugs and tosses Peeta the cat. 

“Suit yourself. One less thing to overflow the Lost and Found.” She strides past him and disappears into Triage 6. He stares down at the stuffed animal. His heart skips another beat and a slow smile tugs at his mouth. 

~*~*~*~

Stifling another yawn, Peeta squints at the numbers above the garage. He’s definitely in the right place. He kills the engine and sits for a moment, glancing at the clock on the navigation system. It’s quarter after nine. Early, but not obscenely so. When his shift had ended at six am, he had driven home and fought the urge to crawl into bed; instead, he grabbed a quick shower and freshened up. True, part of him hadn’t wanted to see Katniss Everdeen again looking like the bedraggled, exhausted mess he was at the end of a rotation, and also true, he was going to have to clean up before he’s due at his parents’ house at one. But he also knew he couldn’t really have shown up at Katniss’s house at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, even if he suspects Ivy likely had her up by then. He recalls, with a wistful smile, that Christmas morning was the one morning he and his brothers were always awake before his father. It was only a question of which Mellark brother was going to be the first to rouse the others. Him being the youngest, it was usually him, he admits with a wider grin.

He quietly exits his car, careful not to slam the door, and gingerly steps across the icy driveway. He pauses at the un-shoveled front walk, where a pristine blanket of snow blocks his path. “Shit,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as he takes the first step. His foot plunges into the deep drift, up to nearly his calf. He braces himself and takes a huge step, hoping to eat up the distance in a few long strides. Fortunately, it’s not a long front walk. He reaches the also un-shoveled front steps and carefully ascends them. He contemplates ringing the doorbell, but instead raps his knuckles against the door. His breath pipes out in white plumes and he rubs his palms together for warmth as he waits. 

No one comes to the door, at least not immediately. Peeta lifts his fist again, but just before his knuckles can connect with the wood again, the front door opens a crack and he’s suddenly looking at Katniss. Those silver eyes round almost comically as recognition lights them. 

“D-Doctor Mellark? Wh-what are you….”  

“Hi. Merry Christmas,” he begins. “I thought Ivy would be missing this.” He smiles and holds up the stuffed cat. 

Katniss stares at him, her lips parting faintly, and shock and confusion war on her pretty face. But then her grey eyes darken with what Peeta can only describe as restrained fury. 

She opens the door fully and glares at him.  

“You had Ivy’s cat?” she accuses. 

“Uh…yeah…” he stammers, his own confusion welling. Why is she so angry? “My nephew…he has a bear. Otis. Can’t sleep without that thing. I thought if Ivy is anything like Max…well, she’d be missing this.” He holds the cat out to Katniss. She snatches it so violently that she stumbles backwards. Peeta is equally jarred, but his jolt is from the very brief brush of Katniss’s fingers against his when she had grabbed the toy. 

But Katniss gives him no time to revel in the feeling.

“So this is why no one at the hospital had a goddamned clue what I was talking about when I called there looking for this cat an hour ago!” she spits. 

Shit, Peeta thinks, an uneasy feeling clawing its way into his gut. 

“Why the fuck—” He can’t help but notice her slight hesitation before she lobs the obscenity at him. “—would you take my niece’s cat? Is this something normal people do?” She’s shivering visibly as she rants, a clear consequence of stepping onto her front porch wearing nothing but green plaid pajama pants and a threadbare black Henley shirt.

“I….I…” He shakes his head. He’s not even sure how to defend his actions. He can’t very well tell her his ulterior motives in bringing the stuffed cat back to her niece. Not now. He definitely fucked this up.

“I was just trying to be nice. That I’d save you a trip on Christmas morning,” he finishes lamely. 

Katniss’s nostrils flare and her jaw flexes. “Christmas morning,” she mutters, just barely audible over the clattering of her teeth. “Did it occur to you, Dr. Mellark, that I might be looking for Ivy’s cat and I might call the hospital looking for this cat?” She shakes the toy in his face. “And did it occur to you that, in spite of all the toys she had just opened, Ivy might be bawling and throwing a fit because Buttercup was missing?”

Buttercup, he has to assume, is the stuffed cat.

She pauses, as if waiting for him to defend himself, but all he can do is swallow against the lump crowding his throat.

So she continues, “They made me think I was crazy—but not until after they left me on hold for 20 minutes while I tried to calm a wailing toddler. And then they said there was no toy matching this description in the Lost and Found. And that’s because you had it!” Her eyes are a maelstrom now, but he notices that an edge of frustration has crept into her furious tone. 

“And now Ivy doesn’t have it. So thank you. Thank you very much, Dr. Mellark. Merry Christmas.” And before Peeta can release the breath he’s been holding during her outburst and plead his case, she whirls around, her disheveled braid lancing through the air like a whip, and slams the door behind her. Stunned, Peeta can only stare at the wreath on the door as he processes what just happened.  

What. The. Fuck. 

Heart pounding, gut churning, Peeta retreats to his car. He takes a few minutes to absorb the shock of his encounter with Katniss, his mind reeling through the accusations she made. He never would have expected her to react like this. So much for any shot with Katniss Everdeen. 

He finally gathers his composure and navigates out of her complex. As he drives, his mind continues replaying Katniss’s words over and over, and he finds one thing nags at him. 

And now Ivy doesn’t have it.

Those words don’t make much sense to him. He just gave the stuffed animal back to Katniss. She can give it back to Ivy. She’ll have it now. In her wrath, Katniss just wasn’t being rational, he decides. 

But her words continue to haunt him off and on for the rest of the day. Along with persistent images of Katniss that further torment him. She is never far from his conscious thoughts. As he sits down next to the fireplace in his parents’ house with a tumbler of scotch to exchange gifts with his brothers and his nephews, he finds himself wondering who Katniss is celebrating with. Ivy, obviously. But does she have other family? 

By the time the Mellarks all settle around the table for dinner, he’s conjured up the notion that Katniss may not be married, but she surely has a devoted boyfriend who is showering her with gifts at this very moment. Her mood is infinitely better than what Peeta witnessed earlier. She’s probably dressed nice for him, and he’s sitting around her dining room table with Katniss and Ivy, like a makeshift family.

His mother’s irritation is palpable when she has to command his attention twice to try and draw him into the discussion centered on Rye’s upcoming wedding. Peeta murmurs the apology he knows she expects and feigns his dutiful brotherly interest for Rye’s benefit the remainder of the meal. But a dull ache has taken up residence in the center of his chest and he realizes just how badly he wants what his brothers have. 

He just won’t be having it with Katniss Everdeen.