#I guess if he left I wouldn’t have to keep guarding this stupid secret so closely

[dcawritings]

Your first priority was getting him out of the Superstar Daycare.

Normally that would be easy, since you knew the space like the back of your hand; you’d practically memorized the basic layout across all the times you scrambled back and forth from the supply closet to the guard desk, the employee lounge to the nap room—yes, you knew the daycare better than almost anyone, but it wasn’t simply finding Gregory an escape route that truly worried you.

No.

It’s because you weren’t alone in the daycare.

If there had been *any* other option available you wouldn’t have let the kid go through here, but time was short and precious; if you had any hope to learn about what had happened to all the animatronics here, you needed to find Freddy and—

“Staaaaarliiiiight~”

The voice rips you out of your thoughts. While it is oh-so-familiar, the icy tone that the words carry is as a stranger to you as the man who spoke them. Gregory has enough time to duck out of view behind one of the play areas, but you don’t have such a luxury when it’s obvious that he’s seen you already.

Sun. Or at least, you hope thats still him in there. Given how bad things have turned in the Pizzaplex, how far the virus had spread into the infrastructure of the building and the network connecting all the animatronics together, you couldn’t begin to guess how much of him might still be there.

This is *not* how you wanted to reunite with them.

Not after how you left. Not after what you learned.

“Sun,” you start to say, raising up one hand as if to try and make him keep some distance from you. “Please, you need to listen to me—”

“Oh nonono starlight!” his normally cheery tone is forced and tense, edging on an iciness that makes your bones shake and shiver. “Too much listening. Too much. So many wordswordswords since you left, repeating and repeating and r̴e̷p̶e̷a̵t̸i̷n̶g̴ in the back of our mind.”

The virus. It had to be. You already knew that Moon’s AI had been infected, but some part of you desperately hoped that Sun would have been spared; it’s still up in the air if the virus can even be purged from the glamrocks without any lingering damage to their systems.

You can’t deal with this right now, but there’s no choice left.

“Sun, you are sick right now,” your other hand lifts up, though sadly its more out of caution than comfort, your mind softly shifting around the internal commands that controlled the bladed weapons within your arms. Please, please don’t come to that… “And I can fix it. I can make you better, but you have to let me go.”

“Silly silly starlight!” Sun laughs, and the sound is cold and painful, completely distant from the cheerful warmth that blossomed in your chest whenever he told a stupid joke or tired to cheer you up on your longest shifts.

He takes a step closer to you, and its only then that you realize there is a look in his eyes. It’s terrifying and heavy, so much that you realize your hands are shaking and your mind is starting to fall back on code that you promised you’d never touch or look at or use again.

“I don’t need fixing…” he whispers, as if telling a great secret, then takes another calculated step forward. His wide white eyes look like a predator, single points of glowing pupils revealing themselves as he is thrown into a silhouette with the lights behind him. “Because you’re home! You’re back! The wordswordswords promised that you’d return to the daycare and look—here you are! Me and Moonie missed you sososo muuuuch!”

A third step.

This is going to be bad.

“And we’re not letting you leave us again.”

[ao3usertaliax]

Summary: The Underground has only ever had one Queen. Undyne doesn't want to be Her. (Alphyne, Exiled Queen / Empress Undyne ending.)

Word Count: 1540

Rating: G

Other part of the secret santa for @carlyraejepsans! since the first one was so short.

XXX

The Ruins doors grind shut. Stone against stone, rumbling like the growl slowly dying in the back of Undyne’s throat. She slides down the doors’ cold, slick surface, sinking into the snow at her feet.

She shivers. It’s done.

The Queen is gone.

“Captain—er, Queen Undyne…?” Dogaressa starts. 

She and Dogamy are leading the squadron, though Undyne hadn’t needed the backup. Queen Toriel had gone without resistance. 

"Don't call me—" Undyne bites her tongue. 

What did she expect? She overthrew the Queen. She is the Queen, now, in their eyes.

Her stomach feels worse than the times she’s ridden conveyor belts. Normally she wouldn’t mind hurling, but it doesn’t sound fun anymore. Not without anyone to gag at how gross she is.

"Fan out. Check the wall for structural weaknesses," she rasps. 

She doesn't expect them to find anything, but it'll give her troops something to do while she…

While she sits here, the cold biting into her toes. Turning the fire in her soul numb.

Asgore, what do I do…?

What would he do? 

…Not kick out his ex, probably. But she had to. She couldn't, wouldn't sit there and watch the Queen unravel everything Asgore had worked for.

(She wouldn't watch the Queen deny what had happened to Papyrus. She wouldn't watch Sans play innocent.)

She shivers, even with Papyrus's scarf as tight as a noose around her neck. 

She couldn't protect him. She couldn't protect Asgore. What makes her think she can protect the whole Underground? 

"U-Undyne…?"

Her head snaps up. She’s really losing her touch if Alphys found a way to sneak up on her. She’s bundled up in layers of knitted sweaters under her lab coat, and a bright pair of pink boots. …Alphys owns boots?

“How did you get here?” Undyne croaks out, wiping the back of her arm across her eyes.

“Mettaton.” Alphys shuffles closer. The Dog Squad packed down the snow, at least, so she doesn’t have to lift the bulky-looking boots too far. “He wants to g-get an interview with the Guard, s-so he was already coming this way… I t-told him not to bother you, but—”

“But he’s Mettaton.” Undyne nods. Trying to stop him from doing something is like… well, like trying to stop an indestructible robot. 

At least he’s not here right now, and Alphys is.

Undyne’s shoulders tremble beneath her armor. She can’t even keep up a strong front for Alphys. Not that Alphys needs her to—she’s strong enough on her own—but Undyne… 

It’s stupid, but she just wants the only friend she has left to think she’s cool.

“I… didn’t just come because of Mettaton. I was worried...” Alphys crouches down beside her. It can’t be comfortable—Alphys hates the cold even more than Undyne does. “N-not about you! I knew you would be fine! But, uh, you know… Ugh, I sound s-so stupid right now…”

Alphys covers her face. Undyne gently takes one of her hands, pulling it away.

“You’re gonna smudge your glasses,” Undyne says. Hopefully the scarf covers her blush. “And, uh. It’s not stupid.”

It’s adorable, how much she trusts Undyne. She’s adorable.

Alphys’s breath puffs out in warm clouds. It fogs her glasses, despite Undyne’s previous attempt at protecting them.

(She can’t even protect a couple of lenses.)

“Um. R-right.” Alphys swallows. Her throat bobs beneath her thick turtlenecks. “I guess it doesn’t matter, now. It’s all over.”

Alphys’s gaze flickers to the doors behind them.

“Yeah. Over,” Undyne lies.

It’s just beginning. Getting rid of the Queen was easy, compared to the mountain of responsibility she feels weighing on her now. 

Laws. Regulations. Everything she spent her childhood fighting against. Deep down, has she ever stopped being that punk kid, pushing boxes for community service? Even the structure of the Guard is just something Asgore invented to keep her occupied. She knows this, because the Queen’s first order of business had been to disband it.

“He… he went with her, didn’t he?” Alphys asks weakly.

It takes a moment for Undyne to catch up to her train of thought, but when she does, she snorts. If the sound comes out a little too wet, it’s just her nose running from the cold.

“Sans? What do you think?” Undyne grumbles. “He’s been wrapped around her finger since she crawled out of her hole.” 

“Since b-before that, actually…” 

“Huh?”

Alphys blushes, for some reason.

“Ehehe. You know how I set up cameras, um, to watch for humans…?”

There’s one in the bush to their left, Alphys explains. Apparently she’s watched Sans and Toriel flirt through this door for months. 

No wonder Sans was always such a useless sentry. He’s been a traitor from the very beginning. The thought should make her rage boil, but the numbness keeps its icy grip on her soul.

“I was going to, r-recalibrate this camera, in case either of them… escape…? I thought it might help you relax,” Alphys mumbles. 

“That’d be great,” Undyne replies quietly. “Thanks, Alphys.”

Sans and the Queen are the least of her worries, honestly—neither of them have the guts to put up a fight—but it’s reassuring to know that Alphys has her back. That she’s not as alone as she feels.

“O-of course! If there’s anything else I can do… you pr-probably have everything figured out, but…” Alphys trails off, claws clicking together.

She’s done plenty already. Just being here, on this side of those stone doors, is enough.

(But. If there’s anyone strong enough, smart enough, to help Undyne—it’s her.)

“I don’t want to be Queen,” Undyne blurts—then immediately flinches, looking left and right. 

The dogs are nowhere in sight, but that doesn’t mean they can’t hear her. Hopefully the drifting snow muffles her cowardly admission. 

“Why… why not?” Alphys asks, her head tilting. “You t-trained under Asgore. If anyone knows how to lead, it’s you. R-right?”

Undyne can guess what Alphys is thinking: she just kicked out the only other monster who might know what she’s doing. Why do that, if Undyne wasn’t ready to pick up the pieces?

The truth is, the people were going to revolt, whether Undyne helped them or not. Unrest from Papyrus’s murder had spread from Snowdin all the way to Hotland. Not to mention how everyone felt about Asgore and the missing human souls.

Undyne had been so busy trying to keep everyone plotting the revolution safe, she hadn’t thought about what would come after. But she’s thinking about it now. And all she knows is this:

“There’s only been one Queen before,” Undyne mutters, “and I don’t want to be her.”

“You’re… worried about being like Toriel?” Alphys asks.

Then she laughs. It sounds a little hysterical, which makes sense. The concept of Undyne looking like the Queen, acting like the Queen, is insane.

“S-sorry!!” Alphys’s face goes red as she tries to muffle her snickers. “I just… I can see it?”

“What??” 

“N-not in a bad way!! You’re just both, very… committed? To your principles! It’s really h-ho—admirable!!!” 

Undyne blinks. The words get her all twisted up inside, compliment-and-insult all at once. …Well, really it’s just a compliment, but being compared to her…

“I can’t be her,” Undyne finally admits. 

As much as she can’t stand the Queen, there’s no denying that Toriel is everything a Queen’s supposed to be. Elegant. Warm. Composed. What if the people realize she was the better choice after all? 

What if they rise up against Undyne just as quickly?

“I… don’t think anyone wants you to be?” Alphys frowns. “Not the way… it sounds like you’re thinking.”

“You just said you found her admirable,” Undyne mutters. 

“I also said—I admire you!” Alphys bursts. Her claws grip the edges of her long sleeves. “You’re so…”

Alphys gestures to all of her. Undyne’s not sure what to make of that.

“You’re you, Undyne. Nobody knew Queen Toriel, well, except Sans… and Gerson, I guess… b-but, everyone knows how much you c-care about them! You’re my—our hero!! I don’t th-think there's anyone in the Underground who could do a better job than you.” 

Her breaths are heavy. They fog up her glasses again, obscuring her eyes right when Undyne wants to see them most.

Maybe it’s for the best. At least Alphys can’t see how deeply Undyne’s blushing.

Your hero…

“You really think so, huh…?” 

“I—I know so! You’re going to be a great Queen!! Just like Empress Jupiter when she had to lead the Planet Brigade in Moon Sailors episode twenty-seven!!!”

A spark of fire reignites in Undyne’s chest. She still has lingering doubts, but Alphys has given her an idea that settles her churning stomach.

“You’re a genius, Alphys! I’ll be Empress Undyne!” Undyne grins, hugging her tight. “Then I won’t have to feel like hurling every time someone calls me Queen. It’s the perfect plan!! Fufufufufu!!!”

“That’s… not what I…?” Alphys starts, before shaking her head and hugging Undyne back. “I mean, yeah!! Empress Undyne sounds se—um, s-super cool!! Ehehe!”

“HECK YEAH!!” 

It takes all her restraint not to suplex Alphys out of affection. Maybe some other time, when they’re not surrounded by freezing snow.

For now, Undyne holds her tight, feeling perfectly warm.

[spaztastic-headcannons]

Sweater Stealing Weather

Summary: Cold weather is setting in, and that means it's time to steal the most coveted item in the Kuwabara household: the toasty husband sweater. With Kazuma distracted in the kitchen, I take the chance to mission impossible the very possible.

Warnings: None, but this is in first person. Kuwabara Kazuma is aged up and married in this. No gender mentioned for the 'I' in the story.

The sound of running water covered the faint squeek of the door being pushed open. Distant humming from the kitchen didn’t quite match the Mission Impossible theme in my head but it acted as further cover for each tip toe to the bed. The carpet took care of much of the risk for footsteps being heard but one could never be too careful on an important mission such as this one.  The timing was right, conditions perfect, and the hapless victim distracted.

This was my time to move.

My mission?

Husband sweater.

The temperature outside was finally matching the season, autumn getting a grip on the area and on the Kuwabara household. Already cold weather clothing was brought up from storage and warm weather clothing was slowly being replaced as random heat waves became less and less likely. This meant more cuddles, cozy drinks, and the elusive and jealously guarded husband sweater.

Kazuma has no issue sharing things with me, and I’m sure if I asked, he wouldn’t mind giving me the sweater to wear for a few hours, but that wasn’t as fun. It had become tradition in our house for the game of keep away with Kazuma’s clothing.  His t-shirts, tank tops, and sweats were among the usual victims of my theft. Secreted away after he’d gotten light use of them but his scent was guaranteed to be present.

Now it was time for his sweaters.  He was a bit stingier about these ones, often complaining about my cold hands on his skin and needing to keep them as armor. But he’d left this one unguarded, vulnerable in his haste to make dinner tonight. The warmth from the kitchen too much for the naturally warm man, leaving him in his under shirt to cook. And me with the chance to get cozy in time for dinner.

My steps are dramatic in all ways towards the bed. Tiny tip-toe steps, large lunges while still working to keep silent, rolling over the bed to land as gently as my graceless self could muster on the otherside to hide from invisible enemies. One hand reaching up, slowly, so slowly, to grip the fabric of the sweater and yank it down beside me.

Victory was not yet assured until it was being worn.  I wiggled it on over my head and through each arm, having to arch to get it down over my back. Success was not only at my finger tips but covering them in excess-fabric-glory. Now to return and await his awareness.

My return to the kitchen was slightly less dramatic. Who needs a show when the prize is already won? I practically swaggered my way back to my seat at the kitchen counter to watch Kazuma cook. Wholly and fully aware of what exactly I just did, his spiritual senses being both a cheat to the game but also a boon to him watching my shenanigans, he turned around and acted perfectly surprised to see me in his sweater.

“Babe, I don’t think that’s your sweater!” He exclaimed in mock shock.

“No, it’s not. It’s husband sweater. But it is mine for tonight,” I giggled in return.

“Damn, another one bites the dust huh?”  He shook his head, using the chance to turn back to cooking to hide his big wide grin, my favorite.

“Guess so big guy! Whatever will you do?”

“Hide it better next time probably,” he teased. Not that he hides them at all at this point.

“You can try but I’ll sniff it out. I always do!”

“Yeah, you sure do, huh?”

Warmth from that room wasn’t just from the stove, but from how he made me feel loved in the little gestures, like playing my stupid game, leaving me his t-shirt for bed that night, and still leaving me his sweater in the morning with his lingering scent.

[miredinmiddleearth]

Rings of Power, Ep. 5 Review - Slowly Losing My Mind

I don’t know if I can keep going. This show has broken me. Here are my thoughts on episode five:

1. Harfoot explains about migrating from place to place, eating food they didn’t plant or nurture or stick around to care for. Gosh, can’t put my finger on why that sounds familiar...Almost like a certain company...

2. Creepy people in white from the trailer are finally here! For exactly thirty seconds and zero purpose.

3. Prediction: Adar (aka orc elf) is related to Gil-galad somehow. Same squiggle armor is worn by both.

4. Summary of my feelings on the middle of the episode: Don’t care. Don’t care. Sloppy. Boring. Dumb. I’d break these thoughts down by scene and characters, but that requires effort, and why should I put in any effort when the show doesn’t, either?

5. The guttural, exhausted noise I made when I realized they were going to have Galadriel spar with the Numenorean cadets. There’s time for this? Also, she steps in to “teach” the cadets how to kill an orc. I am not kidding when I say her lesson is...stab it. That’s it. Stab the orc. Brilliant advice, Galadriel. Really wouldn’t have thought of that. 

Then we proceed to watch a terribly choreographed, slow sword fight so Galadriel can look like she’s cool or something? Definitely doesn’t work.

6. Oh good, show that brags about feminism and championing women uses women as set dressing during the table scene. We can’t just have a table of men. We need women at the table. They need character names? Lines of dialogue? Nah. Just sit them at the table.

7. Just when you think the show couldn’t get any dumber, they hereby present to you - Mithril: An Amazon Original Origin Story. Featuring made up Silmaril lore, a balrog, an unnamed elf, a tree, and an accidental lightning strike.

8. Guys. It hurts. The Gil-galad conversation with Elrond goes to places that are too stupid for words. Contradictions galore, mixed up and messed up character motivations, and inventions that totally destroy whatever direction the world could go. Prepare for the stupid:

In this show, the process of elves dwindling has just begun. Why? Don’t ask questions. But boy oh boy, the solution. Apparently their goal is to get as much mithril as possible and “saturate” the elves. I AM NOT JOKING.

What are they going to do? Gather the elves into a circle and rub mithril on their skin? Go to a mithril spa? Shoot a laser beam through a mithril shard at a crowd of all the elves? WHY DOES MITHRIL NEED A BACKSTORY OR SUCH A PURPOSE? WHY IS IT SUDDENLY THE ROOT OF ELVEN IMMORTALITY AND SALVATION THEWERHUWIEFHBALHUIQZ GAH.

ALSO. Let’s remember that this show is largely about the fall of Numenor. In case you didn’t know, Numenor falls because its people grow so desperate for immortality that they seek it in Valinor, and are thus punished in the most extreme way possible. I guess they should have just mined some mithril!

9. Elrond makes a giant deal of not breaking his oath to Durin about keeping mithril a secret, as he should. Then he proceeds to give Celebrimbor the mithril shard and doesn’t count that as breaking his oath. How does this make sense?

10. Two ships get blown up (gosh, don’t get me started on the extreme lack of character motivations),  and Numenor has three ships left. Wait wait wait. Numenor. Greatest naval force ever. Island nation. Has five ships TOTAL? 

11. Emotional moment between Galadriel and Halbrand not earned. Blah blah blah. I’m terrible at leading. I’m annoying. Yeah we know. We see it literally in every scene you’re in.

12. Absolutely no idea why Elendil’s daughter is here or what she wants. 

13. The armor. Look, I don’t understand the choice to give a horse-y aesthetic to the Numenorean soldiers. Horse tails on helmets? For an island nation not known for their horses? Where would they get so much hair? Also, lol, those “nose guards.”

14. Where did Galadriel get the custom armor she wears at the end? She showed up on the island in rags. Are they implying Halbrand made it in, like, a week? Why do I keep asking for basic storytelling competency? Search me!

15. One brief positive: I could listen to Elendil’s delivery of “For Middle-earth” about five million times.

16. You’re telling me they’re bringing 500 men on those three little ships? And the preview for next week implies they’re bringing a whole cavalry of horses, too? Is there an iceberg worth of boat under the water?

Guess what. The episode ends in the same place they started the episode. Numenoreans are gearing up to go to middle earth. All the conflict got us back to where we started. What a great use of an hour to tell a story. I am so done. I don’t think I can do this again. If this is the last time I review, may I just say...

UGGHGHGHGHGGGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGGGGGHGHHHHGGHGHGHGH

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

[lizbotw]

impatient | itadori

you can’t decide if being left alone with him is a blessing or a curse half the time.

itadori yuuji x reader

word count: 2.2k

inspired by fushiguro being all pouty when he didn’t get to help itadori and kugisaki in that one episode :(

“This is so boring.”

“Yuuji, shut up.”

Shoe soles scrapping against the gravel, you didn’t even bother looking at him, although the burning gaze you already felt prickled the hairs on the back of your neck.

“You’re bored too.” It wasn’t a question.

“We’re supposed to wait for them out here.”

There was a flash of color in your peripheral and a side glance revealed that he was tapping the heel of his red sneakers on the ground—another thirty seconds of that and you’d probably end up threatening him to a life without legs (not that it’d work—Sukuna in all his stupid glory would just regenerate them for his precious vessel; speaking of which, if Sukuna decided to start complaining right now too, you were sure you would lose your mind).

Whistling wind was the only reply to your statement and, content your ears would be spared from the monologue of complaints Yuuji had been going through for who-knows-how-long-now, you crossed your arms and tilted your head back to lean against the brick wall. The stone was dusted with a rustic red—standard, yet somehow fitting for the scene around you. The building looming in front of you was dilapidated in appearance, but you admitted the sleepy residential neighborhood it was located in had some charm to it in a weary, tired sort of way. The splash of brightly colored flowers and houses on some corners really upped the appeal you had to say.

Caught up surveying the surrounding area in admiration, you were almost able to forget about the boy perched on top of the junction where the wall dipped in its height down to a low brick fence just short enough to climb on top of. Almost.

As soon as the sigh left him from beside you, your face reacted before your mind had even fully comprehended what it meant (what it meant was that there was no chance you’d get any peace and quiet around here at this rate), your features annoyed and frowning and everything in between as had become routine at this point. “Why can’t we go in?” he whined, nudging you with his knee. His gaze was expectant and weirdly innocent as he peered up at you, as though you were explaining to a child why they had to have patience. You supposed that comparison could be accurate most times when it came to Yuuji.

“Because Gojou said so.”

“He’s not even here!” That was true. He was off on some super secret mission, although the instructions he had given the group of you were specific—or... er, not too specific that you couldn’t take some... creative liberties in their interpretation, such as stopping for ice cream on the way there as per Kugisaki’s demand request—trusting the lot of you to take care of yourselves and follow them to a T. And by that, he of course meant Fushiguro keeping everyone in line.

There was another curse to take care of, yet Gojou had decided to have you two sit this one out and simply accompany Megumi and Nobara to the site—those two were to actually head inside and deal with the threat. In hindsight, it all made sense considering you, Yuuji, and Megumi had spent more time around each other prior to Nobara’s arrival at the school, no matter how minuscule the time difference was. Hell, you and Yuuji had both spent more time fighting alongside Nobara than Megumi had (they always seemed to keep getting separated from each other in some way or another during the early missions, a laughable observation now that you thought about it). Naturally, letting those two duke it out and come to a somewhat agreeable partnership was the best course of action, and what better way to do that than force them into an abandoned building together?

But even in spite of all that clear-minded reasoning, you couldn’t lie that you weren’t more than a little peeved that you weren’t getting in on any of the action. You scoffed. Team bonding, but at what cost? At the cost of your sanity, that’s what.

You rubbed your temples, squeezing your eyes shut. You no longer wanted to see. “Yuuji, we’re supposed to keep watch,” you huffed out, exasperated. Although truth be told, the title of “guards” just seemed like some fancy namesake Gojou had given you two in order to placate you and make you feel like you were actually doing something. Needless to say, it was not working.

The low section of the wall he sat upon was one half of the area that flanked the archway of the path that led up to the building, and Yuuji, stupid and silly and cute, peeked his head just around the corner to look out of the entrance at the (empty) street and then turned back to you with a shrug. “Nothing there. Job done.” Playfully adorable as he was, you cracked a smile at that, shaking your head.

“Guess you’re right—job done,” you conceded.

He beamed and then hopped off of the ledge, pacing now. You wanted to stretch your legs too and go exploring around the area, but you were trying to be the voice of reason here, knowing that if you gave up that control you were a goner for sure. It was painfully easy to get swept up in his antics.

You barely even registered him setting off on another tangent about how he wanted to go inside too, more so focused on his hands as he switched from swinging them at his side to putting them up in a mock thinking expression for his head to rest upon as he kept walking back and forth in front of you—you were wondering if (and if so, when was the perfect moment) you could reach out and grab ahold of his hand to still the restless energy... and also partially because you just wanted to.

“They’ve been in there a long time, haven’t they?” Yuuji mused, your mind actually picking up on the question now that it was directed at you and not at some vague imaginary spot in the distance. He was right. You noted the glow of the red of the bricks making up the wall as they shone brilliantly warm under the softer evening light, the silent ticking of time among the clouds your only indication of the day passing. The sky was in between the bright shades of blue of the sunny afternoon and the orange hues that were gradually creeping in and mixing with them.

“They have,” you confirmed. You wondered if you would be here until nightfall with how long it was taking them. You crossed your arms again and drummed your fingers against them. Come on already, I have things to do.

After a staring contest with one of the many dust-covered windows of the building as though you were mentally willing the two inside to come out, your narrowed gaze swung over to Yuuji to see what he was up to and promptly widened. You hadn’t noticed that he had stopped his pacing and was looking at you now, closer than you remembering him being moments before.

“And... we’ve been alone this entire time, haven’t we?” Another step forward, casual yet making you suspicious all the same.

“...yes,” you replied, wary of the grin he had—you would’ve thought it was Sukuna if not for the crinkle of his eyes into a smile that matched the one on his lips (oh yeah, that was Yuuji alright).

His steps were so easy, carefree, as though he were sauntering up to talk to you any other time, but you knew him and you knew when he was planning something. Sure, there were times you were downright confused by just about everything he did, but then there were others where his thoughts were just plain obvious.

“And what have we been doing?” In one swift movement he had trapped you against the wall—another step and your back would hit the surface—piercing look pinning you in place. It was a sudden development but you also had the notion that you should have seen this coming from a mile away. He didn’t even need to put an arm out to prevent you from side-stepping out of the spot, his mere presence enough (although you very much wanted to wipe that sweet smile off of his face).

Your mind scrambled for words, you glancing off to the side briefly—you could not maintain eye contact with him like this. “Talking?”

His eyes lit up and you had the feeling you’d just fallen right into his trap. The hand that came up to cup your face confirmed your suspicions. “Yeah, and that’s boring, isn’t it?”

You swallowed, trying to still your breathing. “It is...”

Yuuji tilted his face forward to lean his forehead against yours, skin warm. Both of you were silent aside from the quiet hitches of breath, scrutinizing one another. When you felt his thumb press against the full part of your bottom lip in interest, you just about lost it. His voice was smooth and low when he spoke, “I was going to wait until later but...” You felt him breath in.

Later was usually when anything happened, you two not yet entirely bold or confident enough when it came to most displays of affection in public—or at least in front of the others that was. Their teasing was enough to have your face burning in shame for days, even if you had to admit it was funny at times. You barely even held hands in front of them. Then again... following Yuuji’s train of thought... you had been out here alone for so long already... maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just...—you weren’t lost to contemplation for long though as he brought you back to reality.

A mere brush of his lips against yours stopped you from replying, your eyes falling closed, heart hammering. Your hand found a weak grip on the front of his shirt as you waited expectantly for the warm flush of his mouth.

“What are you two doing?”

You jolted at the familiar voice, heart hammering for an entirely different reason now, and pulled away from Yuuji’s face, although his grip on your head didn’t let you get far, the press of his ring finger and pinky into the back of your neck dizzying. Fushiguro and Kugisaki stood a few feet away, looking a little worse for wear with minor scrapes and bruises littered on their exposed skin, but thankfully all in one piece.

Eyes darting to them, mind reeling as you realized the compromising position you had been caught in, you thought up an excuse on the spot.

“Standing guard.”

“About to kiss.”

You and Yuuji both spoke at once. You slowly looked at each other, blinking.

A second passed and then— “Why are you lying?” he asked, genuinely confused.

You slapped a hand across his chest in horror at him blatantly blowing your cover like that. “Yuuji!” You were mortified (but also... he was still so close... it was almost easy to forget that the other two were still there).

“I...” Fushiguro looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it and shook his head. “I don’t want details. Let’s just go.”

A sigh of relief left you, but then Yuuji gave a chipper, “Okay!” and when he still didn’t release his hold, you had a vague feeling in your gut that something was wrong—

He leaned forward to close the gap at last and press his lips against yours, swallowing up your breath in the process—then he pulled away like it was nothing, off to go bother Fushiguro about the details of the curse.

You stood there, dumbfounded.

A gasp. “Gross!” Kugisaki shrieked, sounding like she wanted a break from everything that had occurred in the past five hours. She was sticking her tongue out, nose scrunched up and eyes screwed shut. “I cannot see anything cute after dealing with that thing inside.” A nose of discontentment, “Bleh.” But then she seemed to have a moment of clarity, clapping both hands on the side of her face and giving you a look that might as well have been an overexaggerated wink paired with her shouting every cliche couple trope from the rooftops. “But also... romantic.” Please someone save you.

Fushiguro was looking a little pale himself, caught off guard by the display of affection, staring at you, but then catching himself and looking away. He looked embarrassed and he didn’t even have anything to do with it.

Carefully, robotically, you brought a finger up to brush against your lips, still warm where Yuuji’s had molded between them, and subsequently noticed the teasing look he was giving you in the distance. It was a little too smug for your liking.

You stalked up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest, staring him down. “Yuuji, I swear-”

Kugisaki shoved the two of you towards the exit before you could get into a fist fight over a single surprise kiss, tsking while Fushiguro followed behind in her wake (you wondered if he would recover from... that any time soon—poor boy). “Okay, move it along, lovebirds. I want to go take a shower.”

[quillsareswords]

1:20

Damian Wayne x reader

SUMMARY: You're lucky you've memorized Robin's schedule: it might me the only saving grace you've got left.

WARNINGS: blood, near-death

Master List in bio

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning in early June.

Gotham never really gets hot, but the humidity suffocates anything that might think that's a relief. You didn't check the weather this evening. You probably should have.

It's 1:20 on a Tuesday morning. He's gonna be here. You've had mixed feelings about knowing his schedule this well in the past, but now it's the deciding factor of your fate.

It's 1:20. That means you've been bleeding like a stuck pig for ten straight minutes, even if it feels like it's been hours. Or seconds. You don't really know anymore. You're getting dizzy.

So you've leaned against the wall. Some little roof access point that stands tall above the gravel covering the rooftop. The brick digs into your shoulder, even through your jacket.

You're starting to think you've gotten it wrong. Or maybe he just didn't show today. Maybe you're out of luck this time.

It was dumb. Stupid to think that you could stop this. Stupid to think you would end any way other than alone.

It was on purpose, after all. Isolation, that is. You pushed and shoved everyone away with a friendly smile and kept them at arm's length, lest they wiggle their claws beneath your mask and expose you for every ugly thing you are.

You're a mole. An informant. Someone who plays every side all at once and somehow manages to stay neutral the whole time. You've been passing tips to the Bats for months now, means be damned. Trust was meager between you, but what little there is is mutual.

You'd hoped it'd be your saving grace. Hoped the side playing would leave you with at least one friend, even though it was the entire reason you're in this position in the first place. You had hoped your downfall would save you.

He appears before you two minutes late. 1:22 in the morning and he's late. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, a few feet away, surveying the street below him like it's his job (and it is), with his back to you.

"You're late, Birdy." Your voice comes quieter and rougher than it should, and the force it takes nearly sends you to the ground.

He spins around at the sound, hand already curled around the hilt of his sword by the time he faces you. He says your name lowly, like a warning, like always. His posture relaxes nonetheless. "You come with useful advice, I expect. The skirmish by the docks sounded quick, but Batman thinks–"

"I didn't know where else to go," you say suddenly, because you already know you aren't going to be conscious long enough for this conversation.

The effort gets you this time. Your knees, shaky as they've been, finally give out. You understand, and you forgive them; they carried you all the way here, after all. Your body turns on the way down, back of your jacket scraping terribly against the brick as your heels slide through the gravel. The noise you make is somewhere between a groan and a cry.

It rips the breath out of his lungs. Your name is in his mouth again as he drops to his knees beside you, gloved hands already pawing at the hand you have clamped around the knife still sheathed into your side.

"What happened?" he demands, and he's reaching for his pager with the other hand. "Who did this?"

You're too focused on the way your first name sounds in his voice. There's something nice about the way he spaces the syllables.

He says it again, all panic and worry, like he hasn't the time to mask it anymore.

You wonder for a moment if it has anything to do with his lingering stares and gruff get home safe's.

But then he's shaking your shoulder and you're wincing because it's bruised beneath the jacket.

"Stay awake, hey, stay with me. Batman is on his way. We'll fix this." There's a pause where he's sucking in a deep breath and you're trying to focus on his voice. "You're going to be fine."

You think it's a little funny. You managed to get all the way here, up a goddamn fire escape, but the moment you think he's got you, you lose all ability to keep yourself upright. You just want to sleep. You want to lay down and take a nice, long nap.

You hate to admit that it just might be because you trust him more than anyone else you know. You've only known him for a few months, but you're sure that you're safest with him. You're safe with him.

It shouldn't be much of a comfort, with Death staring you down like a lion on it's last meal. You won't need protecting if your decline doesn't level out soon. It's surprising what such little comfort feels like when you're staring Death down like a gazelle with an attitude problem.

You don't remember being moved. Or how you ended up in a medical bed with stiff, scratchy sheets and a nearly flat pillow. You do remember hearing Damian's voice, fading in and our with your consciousness. The words are all garbled and quiet, but you know the recall the sound.

Alfred is the first person you see. He's unfamiliar, but he introduces himself and offers you a warm smile and a glass of water. He brings you a bowl of soup and hands you a bottle of painkillers and another of antibiotics.

You fall asleep again, listening to some little body of water just outside the white room you're settled in.

When you wake up, it's to the sound of an argument. Batman and Robin. It's hushed, angry and patient whispers back and forth, but it's an argument all the same. You've heard them bicker enough over the last few months to recognize it.

You can't quite make it out. You hear your name a few times, something about time, something about healing, something about help. Batman finishes it.

Robin swings the squeaky door open a few moments later.

He stops halfway into the room when he sees you're awake.

You wiggle your way up the mattress to lean against the pillows behind you. "Birdy."

He sighs. "You nearly bleed out in my arms and that's how you greet me?"

He doesn't sound quite right. A little deflated, maybe. Relieved? As if he'd been holding his breath before he entered the room, and just remembered how to breathe when he caught your eye.

Course, you can't be sure he caught it at all, with those white lenses.

You cock a shoulder. "I'm sure you've seen worse. I'm sure I'll have worse."

His posture shifts as he crosses the room. He shakes his head. "That's not funny."

"It's kind of funny," you try, throwing the best carefree smile you can manage when everything beneath your skin is so sore. "I'm the one who was bleeding, that means I'm allowed to make all the jokes I want."

"That's an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"So is dressing up in red and yellow and calling yourself a bird."

His shoulders drop again. You think you might see a smile, but he turns his head away too quickly. "You should be more careful. I can't always be there to drag you out of every fire, you know."

You cross your arms, raising both knees to take some pressure off of your abdomen. He takes it as an invitation and makes himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed. He finds a comfortable position with a little too much familiarity. "I don't expect you to. I wouldn't have even been there if I wasn't getting information for you."

"For Batman–"

"Potato, pa-tot-oh."

He goes rigid again. "I never would have asked you to put yourself in danger like that."

It's defensive. Appalled, almost. Offended.

You don't know how to reply. That doesn't seem to matter though, because he's not done.

"And even if I had, I would have gone with you. I would have made sure you had backup, I would have– this never would have happened."

There's a certain distain in his tone that catches you off guard. A resentment, toward you or his partner you aren't totally sure.

He runs gloved fingers through slick black hair. Heaves a breath. Pushes himself to his feet. Falsely composed. "You may stay as long as you need. Alfred will take care of you."

"Where are you going?" It slips out before you can stop it. And perhaps you could play if off as a standard question—you are in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people, aside from him—but it's much too quick. It sounds a little too much like don't leave me.

And you know he hears it too, because he turns back around so quickly you wonder if he even considered it. "Patrol. It's Wednesday night." And yet he makes to move to leave.

You nod. "Right. Yeah. You're, uh, what? You're over by the city museum tonight, aren't you?" You want to smack yourself. What are you doing, making small talk? He's got places to be, people to save.

"Yes." The top seal of his mask flexes when he raises an eyebrow.

You nod again. An awkward smile on your lips. "I, uh, I didn't know how to feel about knowing where you'd be most of the week, but I guess I'm glad I do. Saved my skin last night, didn't it?"

He drawls in a deep breath. "Suppose it did."

There's a long pause. You aren't sure if you're breathing, but you're sure he isn't. He looks tense, like he's torn between saying something and leaving, body angled not quite toward you.

"You can always come to me," he says suddenly. He must read something on your face, because he tumbles straight into the next sentence. "Last night, you said you didn't know who to go to. I'm telling you now, you can always come to me. I'll fix it, whatever it is."

His voice is tight. A little unsure, but not in the statement. Like a hiker on a rocky trail; unsure of his footing, but certain in his destination.

There's something else in his words. Something scrawled between the lines in thin, fragile letters. Something deeper than wounds and needing backup.

I'll fix it, whatever it is.

Your heart rate picks up, and the heart monitor reveals your secrets on the screen beside you. What it can't reveal is the way the poor organ soars, throwing itself to the clouds with reckless abandon, completely uncaring of the hard trip back down.

You still don't know how to reply. You'd like to say something witty. A little sarcastic, maybe a smidge mean. He's giving you a glimpse at his heart, beating bloody in his hands, and there's a large part of you that wants to poke it. Nothing too wounding, just enough that he never makes the mistake again.

But you can't help it. There's a much larger part of you that wails, who wants to snatch it from him to shield and cradle, because he obviously can't be trusted with it. Not if he's baring it to you.

The deciding party is the reminder of last night. Dragging yourself up a rusted fire escape, praying to anyone who might listen that he'd be there. That he'd help you. You remember thinking he wouldn't. You remember the thought hanging above you like gravediggers as you settled into a coffin: you pushed everyone away, you don't leave room for those who want to help you.

"Thank you," you attempt, and it comes barely above a whisper. You allow it to be tender. You let it embody the raw little piece of you that utters it; the piece that wants so desperately to let him in. The piece that knew he'd save you. The tender little sliver of soul who still believed you deserved to be trusted and supported. The one who still hopes for meaningful connections, even among your collection of throw-away contacts.

You can see the way he relaxes. The way he melts inside his skin, like he'd been expecting you to poke when you could have. Like it lifts a weight off of him, knowing that you'll trust him enough to come to him in the future.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You should sleep."

You roll your eyes. "Sleep in some weird ass white room I've never been in, surrounded by a bunch if people I barely know. Yeah, I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby."

He recognizes that you aren't entirely serious, but he also recognizes the orange pill bottles on the table beside you. "If Alfred has you on those, I trust you will—no matter where you are."

You chuckle, he offers you the tiniest smile, and then he's gone. Vanished into the rest of whatever strange building he whisked you into.

You should be worried about it. Not knowing where you are, exactly who you're with, who has access to you. But you aren't. And it might be the medication making you compliant, and you'll look back on this in a week and be horrified—or it could be that you've broken all your own rules and thrust all if your trust into the hands of a boy you've never seen without a mask.

[darkacademicfrom2021]

A gentlecat.

Summary: A black cat comforts you when you need it the most. Your new friend is quite peculiar for an animal. It's almost like they could understand you.

Pairing: Loki x gender neutral reader (it's not actually a "pairing", you can see it as a friendship, or something platonic).

Word count: 2K.

Warnings: anxiety, sadness.

Disclaimer: picture not mine.

You used to frequent the roof of the compound everytime you were melancholic.

Or everytime you had too many feelings to process and needed time alone. Or anytime you felt too empty and needed to refill on sentiments and life by staring at the moon and remembering how much it means to exist in this world. Or too overwhelmed, and needed to be reminded of how little it all matters, how few are the things that are actually important.

No matter the motive, the roof and the moon were always there with you.

The wind blew on your face, almost like a whisper, almost like a caress. The same wind that blew on a crying child, or a couple of teenagers kissing for the first time, or an old man remembering with gratitude the love of his life. Or a lost young who, just like you, was looking at the moon searching for a meaning. An answer. Why all of this? Why to you? Why to everyone and why everything at the same time?

You inhaled a deep breath as you laid your back against the floor of the terrace, and the only thing you got to see were the few starts pollution would let you, and the gigantic moon smiling at you.

A noise startled you, and you were sitting back up again in no time. Being an avenger made you a little more paranoid than you expected. But you didn't say anything. You looked around nervously and waited for the sound to reappear. And it did.

"Who's there?".

No answer. You heart was pounding, but you didn't let your voice break. A hand flew right to the knife in your thigh, waiting for the danger to appear.

The noise came out of the shadows. A black cat approached you precatiously, almost as if they knew you were a threat. You put your guard down and finally sighed.

"God, little thing, you scared me", you whispered as you put a hand near them to let them smell you and be familiar with you. The cat didn't do so, instead, they sat by your side and rested their head on your hand. "Well, you certainly trust easier than me".

The cat meowed answering you, and you felt a connection to them. You loved animals, but this one was different. It was almost like they could understand your words. You moved your thumb slowly, petting their head. The cat let you, staring at you with intensity. Blueish green eyes that you felt like you knew from somewhere else.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked, and you felt stupid. What life choices had lead you to the point of talking to a black cat on a roof, while everyone else was partying? The cat meowed back again. You chuckled. "So you understand what I say? I'll keep talking, then. Just don't think I'm too crazy". The cat purrowed in your hand, and you took it as a yes.

"I just... I don't like these parties, you know? I don't feel well when there's too many people around me, and all the noise... you'd understand, I think cats are sort of like that, right?". The cat meowed again. You smiled. "I appreciate being here, I really do. But the whole Avengers show we should put up... I don't buy it. We know damn well we're not what we pretend to be". You ranted, and realized immediately after you should've been looking around first. If anyone actually heard you, you'd be in big trouble. You went back to a whisper "but that's our little secret".

The cat slowly walked nearer you and looked at you before sitting in your lap, as to look for approval. You nodded and caressed the fur as they did so.

"Do you have a name?" You asked, looking for a collar. "Weird. A cat so well taken care of like you should have an owner". The cat hissed and you laughed "alright, not an owner. You don't like the expression, I get it. A human partner, maybe?". The cat stared at you again. You wished they could talk, but it was probably better off like that. Maybe you liked animals because they couldn't talk.

"So you're from the streets?".

The cat looked inside the compound and then looked back at you again. You interpreted as if they was asking you why wouldn't you go back. "I can't go in there, I got too anxious and said I was sick". You swear you saw the cat roll their eyes.

"Why are you here?". And you immediately laughed "oh, God. I'm asking questions to a cat. What am I waiting for? An answer? You probably just want food. Wait here, I'm gonna get you some. I'll steal some of Bucky's. He has a cat, too".

You sneaked through the party and nobody noticed you passed by. Once you were back, the cat wasn't there anymore. You left the food in a cup of tea on the floor, just in case they came back, and went back to the compound.

The next time you were on the roof, you weren't running away from any party. It was that same week that you felt increasingly anxious out of nowhere, in the middle of a dinner. After a while you went back to bed and you overheard the asgardian brothers discuss something in a low voice outside your room. Thor wanted to walk in and make sure you were fine; his brother told him he knew you needed space, so you were better off left alone. You wondered how he knew that, and then realized he was like that too.

You basically never spoke to him, but you always shared your silences. Everyone in the Stark Tower was so... enthusiastic. Outgoing. You and Loki enjoyed the silence of the nights over a good book and a warm drink. You barely spoke to each other. You were various meters away, in different parts of the common room (that one with the big couches and old books Mr. Stark set up for the introverts of the group, ahem, you two and ocassionally little Peter Parker). But you were there, always sharing that loneliness you craved in such crazy times.

After a while, you crawled out of bed and rested your arms in the window. You realized there was someone waiting for you in there.

"Hello, friend".

The cat purrowed in your hand. They had a protein bar in their mouth, as to give it to you. You frowned in confusion.

"You know, whatever you are, you don't pretend to be a cat very well". The cat opened their eyes widely, and you laughed. "But thank you. I don't know how you knew I didn't have dinner, but I appreciate this very much".

You opened your window so that they could come in, but they didn't. They looked inside, but stayed in there, as to care for your privacy. "It's fine, you can come in". The cat stayed out, anyways. "I think I'm gonna do some reading. If you care to join me, you're invited".

You and the black cat stayed up all night on the balcony of your room. You read in silence and the cat rested on your lap, purring and staring at you with those big, intense eyes. The night wasn't cold, but refreshing. Windy, before the big rainstorm that would have place next day. You loved that weather.

It wasn't the only occasion you stayed all night with the company of the black cat. Once they already felt comfortable enough to get in your room, you'd both lay in bed, and the cat would curl around your neck, using your shoulders as a mattress.

One dark and rainy afternoon you were on the roof, and the cat was with you, laying on the floor, watching the stars and the moon, just like you. You overheard some of the Avengers talking about you. Clint's voice commenting on how you basically adopted a stray, and Tony laughing. Thor corrected them you befriended a cat, and you chuckled at the offense he took from the word "adopted".

"Don't worry, I befriended you. You seem to be good by yourself", you clarified. The cat meowed.

It got dark and you stayed in the floor until the last light on the compound was turned off. The cat seemed to be curious as why you stayed for so long.

"I want to go to the common room, I haven't been there in a few weeks", you commented. "Best time of the day is when almost everyone's asleep".

At some point of the night you got up and walked through the compound to get to the kitchen. The cat followed your steps, and you swore they knew the way.

You poured some warm milk in a cup for the cat and they waited for you to have your coffee in hand to start sipping. You both sat on the couch of the common room.

"Such a polite gentle...cat", you whispered. "You know, it's so weird this is empty right now. At this time there's someone else reading here". The cat looked at you and you didn't understand what they meant. "I think he would like you. You have sort of the same energy, maybe that's why I even befriended you. Someday, if you let me, I'll introduce you two". The cat nodded weirdly.

You spilled some coffee on your shirt and cursed to yourself. The cat went to the counter and grabbed a napkin for you. At that point, they didn't even pretend to act like a cat at all.

"Ah, thank you". As you cleaned yourself, the cat looked at the book you were reading. It was in old norse. The cat looked at you with interrogative eyes. "Ah, that's... stupid, actually. I'm a little embarrassed I'm even doing that". The cat sat infront of you, and you felt like it was a way to ask you for more. You felt free to elaborate.

"This man... well, not a man. There's someone in this compound I never speak to, yet I still feel very connected to, you know? And everytime we're reading together, he reads these very dusty and heavy books in old norse. I didn't know that language, of course. But I was always curious to see what he read. You know, he can spend all night up reading those pages; he's so concentrated he doesn't notice his expressions. But they're great. He smiles, and frowns, and sighs. And I don't think he's aware of that, but I find it so beautiful", you explained. The cat kept looking at you with their eyes wide open. You sighed and continued. "Anyways. I just... I wanted to see a bit more of him. I'm too... shy, I guess? To actually talk to him. In fact, I feel a little intimidated, he's tall, and has some darkness in his eyes, and... well, he's a God. But I'd... I don't know. I learnt old norse and I started reading these books. And I feel like I understand him a little more. Even a little".

The cat looked down a bit and made themself a ball of fur in your lap. You kept reading. They rested their head in your arm and stared at the book as you read, as if they were reading it too.

When you woke up, you were in that same couch. The cat was nowhere to be found. You had a blanket over you, the book was closed over the coffee table, and your shoes were off. You felt weirdly safe. Anonymously taken care of.

You heard noises in the room next door -the kitchen-, and you peeped in. The God of Mischief was in there, making two cups of coffee. He turned around as he heard you walk in, and handed you one cup.

"Góðan morgin", he said. It meant good morning. You swear you saw a little smile forming in the corners of his mouth.

[starlessea]

I See Red (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Prompt: “If you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you all.” Requested by @alex-sulli​​​, numbers #25 and #29 from this post.

Summary: You’ll threaten anyone who dares mess with your little brother; and Daryl is left to pick up the pieces when you feel guilty for doing so.

Words: 2078

Warnings: Language.

Never before in your life had you found yourself at a loss for words. Whether it was rambling to Daryl during the early hours of the morning whilst he grumbled to let him sleep, or giving your father grief like it were an older sibling’s duty, you always had something to say. That was, however, until now.

Carl had his hands held up, directly in front of his face so that they were visible. He shot you a look, urging you to do the same. You didn’t. Instead, you glanced back and forth between your brother and Ron, like you couldn't quite comprehend what was happening.

"It's fine." Carl said, trying to reassure you. "I've got this."

He didn't. 

You'd been upstairs, watching over Judith whilst your father and Michonne were on their patrols, when suddenly you heard shouting coming from Carl's room. You sighed, thinking you'd have to scold your teenage brother and his friends for being too rowdy when your little sister was fast asleep in her crib. At first, you let them off the hook, but when glass shattered in the distance you decided enough was enough.

You'd bound down the stairs with the practiced heavy footsteps of an older sister, already preparing your best yelling voice. Except, rather than the row you were expecting to give, you were rendered speechless as you flung open the door.

Ron stood with his arm outstretched, pointing a pistol directly at your brother. Carl glanced back at the sound of you entering his room, and pleaded with you to follow his lead. The other boy remained silent, but shifted his weight on his feet as you glared at him. 

Ron was no killer; you watched as his hand trembled over the gun, and he chewed his lip between his teeth. He was no killer - but he was certainly an asshole.

"Put it down." You demanded, taking a few steps closer to him. "Now!"

The boy flinched as you yelled, and Carl glanced back at you nervously. You didn't care what he'd told you; there was no way you'd allow him to diffuse the situation alone. Your innocent baby sister lay asleep upstairs, and your younger brother was facing a loaded gun downstairs. You thought your father would actually kill you if anything happened to either of them on your watch.

Ron fumbled with the gun, narrowing his eyes at you like he was debating your words. You'd expected him to surrender it immediately, and let you march him home to his mother by the ear. Except, he didn't. He trained his aim on you instead, and his shoulders shook even more as he did so. You let out a bitter laugh in disbelief, and raised an eyebrow at him. He didn't back down, but neither did you. 

Carl watched the exchange as you walked even closer to Ron, until the barrel of the pistol lay flush against your chest. He didn't pull the trigger; you knew he wouldn't. You could feel the cold metal quivering against your skin, and you took it from him without hesitation. 

He let you, and took a few steps back in response to you getting even nearer to his face - so close that you could see his skin prickle from your breath on his cheek.

"If you hurt my brother, I'll kill you." You whispered, letting him feel the gun against his own torso this time. "I swear I'll kill you all." 

The boy looked down at his shoes, as your foreheads pressed together.

"You think you can pull a gun on my family?" You questioned, forcing his chin up with your knuckle. "Then wait until you see what I can do to yours."

You unloaded the gun, letting the magazine fall to the floor as you watched the bullets scatter out from it. You took a step back, and watched as Ron seemed to take his first breath. He immediately glanced over at Carl for some support, and you laughed in his face as he did so. You couldn’t believe he dared have the audacity to look to your brother for help not even minutes after threatening to kill him.

"Get out." You spat, and the boy did just that.

Your jacket caught on the handle as you snapped open the door a little too forcefully, and you growled below your breath. You'd been looking forward to returning home all day, and having some time to yourself to relax - but now all you saw was red. You kicked the door shut behind you with your boot, and grimaced at the sound of it slamming, and the glass shaking in the pane.

Daryl looked over at you curiously, raising an eyebrow where he stood in the kitchen. He was covered in grease, and you guessed he'd been working on his motorcycle whilst you were with the teenage firing squad. 

"How was yer day?" He drawled, pouring you a glass of water from the sink.

You sighed, and slumped into his chest when you reached him - letting your forehead drop against his shirt.

"I think I just threatened a sixteen year old." You mumbled there, and heard him chuckle as you did.

Daryl took a sip of the water, forgetting to offer you some first.

"Yeah, mine was good too." He replied, nonchalantly, and you hit him over the shoulder.

"Daryl-" you whined, not having the energy for playful banter.

He smiled at you sheepishly, and rubbed the back of your head, gently playing with some strands of hair between his fingers. There were oil-stains over his clothes, and he looked like he needed a shower. Though, at this moment, you didn't really care that the grease had rubbed off on you, or that your hair probably looked like coal dust.

"What did Carl do this time?" He asked sarcastically, but it made your blood run hot merely thinking about it.

"My brother didn't do anything." You snapped, and immediately regretted your tone. "It was Ron."

Daryl let out a low laugh, and you felt it rumble through his chest. He squeezed your shoulders, feeling the tension that had built up there.

"Does seem like kind of a lil' shit, don' he?"

You sighed; if only he knew the half of it. Daryl pressed his knuckles against your lower back, relieving the stress from your muscles. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling.

"He pulled a gun on Carl." You admitted to the man, and instantly noticed as he stopped massaging your skin. "Then aimed it at me when I told him to drop it."

It was like you'd shown a red rag to a bull. Daryl went from completely loving to positively menacing in a matter of seconds, and stormed straight past you towards the door. 

"Daryl, stop-" you called out, panicked. "He's just a kid." 

You grabbed onto the man's shoulder, and he turned on his heels as you did so. His brow was furrowed, and you watched him narrow his eyes like he couldn't at all understand why you held him back.

"And kids should know their damn place." He growled, making your shiver.

You placed your hand over his chest, spreading your palm flat to feel his pounding heartbeat.

"He does. I made sure of it." You said quietly, trying to convince the man. "I'm just regretting the way I handled it."

Daryl immediately noticed the way your voice trailed off, and how your eyes dropped to the floor like you were ashamed. You weren't proud of what you did; but it needed to be done. You couldn't risk anything happening to your family - not when you'd all fought this hard just to stay together.

The man brought his hand to your cheek, coaxing you to look up and meet his eyes. You did, and he placed a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead - which you could feel him smile into ever so slightly.

"Is he still breathin'?" He mumbled against your skin, seeming to have calmed down enough to comfort you, instead.

"What-" you stuttered, before registering his words. "Yes, of course." You spoke, a little too loudly and a little too quickly.

Daryl chuckled, and wiped away some oil he'd gotten on your face with his thumb.

"Then ya handled it jus' fine."

There was a knock at your door not even an hour later. You'd told Daryl you would get it, but he bounded there before you had the chance - instructing you to stay on the couch and keep your feet up. He'd gotten a blanket and tucked you in so tightly that it felt like you were on an army base. You giggled to yourself, wondering if there was anything that man wouldn't do for you.

"Is she there?" Ron asked Daryl, mustering every ounce of confidence he had. "I want to apologise."

He scowled back, and practically snarled at the boy barely half his size but twice as stupid. Daryl was sure he could knock him on his ass as easy as the wind blowing a piece of paper through the breeze. He was scrawny, and fumbled with his hands like he couldn't dare to meet his eyes.

"Listen here, ya lil' prick." Daryl spoke, biting out the words. "Ya pull that shit again an' you'll have me to deal with."

You flipped the page of your magazine, re-reading the events from over a year ago and mumbling something about 'yesterday's news.' You tried your hardest to relax, but you had a nagging feeling that you couldn't escape from - making you feel antsy and on edge.

"Hi." Came the voice, wobbling through your living room like it was coated in a layer of shyness. "I just came to say I'm sorry." 

Whipping your head around, you caught sight of Ron, shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. Daryl stood behind him, like he was blocking any escape route he may have planned - but in reality, he looked like a grouchy guard dog having come to make sure you were okay.

For the second time today, you felt speechless, and slowly closed your magazine before tucking it underneath a pillow. Not even an hour ago had you staked your life on how intimidating you could seem, and now you were bundled up near the fire like a grandmother with arthritis. You blinked, and stood up quickly - letting the woven blanket fall to the floor and kicking it under the couch like a poorly kept secret.

"I guess I was jealous of Carl." Ron continued, feeling pressured by your lack of response. "I'll never do anything like that again. I promise."

You met his eyes but he looked away, staring at the photo frames littering your walls - and resting his gaze over the picture of you, Carl and Judith in the centre.

"Damn right you won't." You finally replied, and watched the boy flinch like your words had cut him open.

"Come here." You instructed, and he listened.

When he approached, you slumped back down onto the couch, not caring if he noticed your glossy magazine slipping out from under the pillows. You patted the space next to you, gesturing for him to sit. He did, and the two of you stared into the red flames of the fire, watching them jump and splutter in front of you.

"When we're scared, we do stupid things." You told Ron, your voice coming out a lot softer than it had done before.

You caught sight of Daryl in the corner of your eye, leaning against the doorframe like he was content to watch from afar - leaving you to finish what you'd started. He'd always have your back, but sometimes he just wanted to hang back to see where you decided to take him.

"In this new world, you only have two options." You explained, and gave Ron's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The boy jumped a little at your touch, but soon settled into it when he realised how different it was from earlier that day.

"You can either fight it, or accept it." You said, listening to the crackle of firewood as it turned into red embers. "Fear it, or control it."

A/N For my sweet @alex-sulli who always leaves the most wonderful comments that never fail to make my day :)

Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

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[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

Seokjin’s chapter ix 

kim seokjin x reader warnings; angst, this feels pretty heavy at certain points but gets lighter as you go on, there’s a therapy session included, and just a lot of introspection  words; 7,459

author’s note; this kind of ran away with me, wasn’t expecting it to be so long haha but I hope you enjoy! 

Read the original chapter ix here 

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

After you left Seokjin immediately poured the rest of his whisky down the sink and rinsed his glass. His mind was whirring, head heavy and starting to throb. He swallowed two painkillers down with some water and took a deep breath. He felt like crying. It felt like everything was crumbling around him. All his recent happiness, all his progress, and now possibly it seemed, his relationship with you… 

He’d wanted nothing more than to beg you to stay, and he had to an extent, but he knew it wasn’t right. He closed his eyes, not quite believing you’d witnessed all that. You probably thought he was a monster. He hadn’t lost his temper quite like that in a while, not since before the divorce… Embarrassment washed over him, yet he couldn’t stop himself from still being mad at Nana. He knew what you said made sense. He knew he’d been out of line but Nana continuously goaded him. She’d done so throughout their marriage. But he was no saint, he knew how to provoke her too. It’s what they did best. 

He moved away from the sink and tried to quash his anger, instead thinking of you and how much he had hurt and upset you. He hadn’t meant for it to get that bad, and he knew deep down that the reason he was so angry was because he’d brought it all on himself. He caused the incident by keeping his relationship with you secret. It hadn’t been on purpose, he wasn’t being vindictive, if anyone would believe him. He just… He had been selfish. He didn’t want to ruin anything because he was finally really happy after god knows how long. It was stupid in hindsight, but what was done was done now. 

He reached for Arin’s mug of hot chocolate and fresh waves of guilt and emotion hit him. She didn’t deserve any of this. He needed to be there for her, to push his own troubles away and put on a brave face because none of this was her fault. She needed to know that. Thankfully, the drink hadn’t grown cold yet, and he finished it off with some cream and mini marshmallows. He took one last deep breath and made his way down the hallway. Moping was no good for him. That’s what Chaewon always said. 

Arin looked happy to see him, instantly reaching out to him as he took a seat next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. He immediately felt lighter with relief. His daughter had always been his magical cure, and even though a cuddle wouldn’t make everything in his life right again, it certainly helped, and was very much needed. She asked where you were at one point, and unsure what to say, and feeling like shit for lying, he quickly said you needed to be somewhere. Arin probably didn’t buy it, looking dubious as a result of today, bus she didn’t say anything, asking instead if they could watch a movie. 

She wasn’t very talkative, and he didn’t blame her. Neither was he. He spent most of Shrek the Third lost in his own thoughts. As his anger slowly drifted away, shame replaced it. He’d been absolutely awful today and even if some of the things he’d said to Nana came from a valid place of concern, most were shouted for no reason other than frustration and hatred on his part. He was ashamed of himself. 

After the movie finished, Arin complained she was feeling hungry, so he left her to pick a new movie while he found something to cook up for dinner. He caught sight of the bowl of salad and his heart sunk, remembering the picnic outside. There was no salvaging it now, everything had probably spoiled in the sun, and as he waited for Arin’s dinner to cook, he went outside with a garbage bag, throwing away all the food you’d painstakingly prepared. It felt like he was throwing your relationship in the trash. He didn’t eat with that thought in mind, managing one piece of toast before it turned on him. 

At around 6pm his phone started to ring, vibrating in his front pocket and giving him a shock. For a split second he prayed it was you, but he knew he was being foolish. You needed time and if he was being honest with himself, so did he. He needed to concentrate on Arin tonight, as much as he…loved…you, his daughter’s wellbeing was the most important thing. If he could just make sure Arin was okay, then tomorrow he could concentrate on you and him. 

Pulling out the device he saw it was Nana. He suddenly felt very, very sick but picked up with a cautious hello. He was almost 100% sure she wanted to speak with Arin, the only way she could seeing as Arin was too young to have a phone of her own, but he was still wary, not wanting a repeat of earlier. 

“I want to speak to my daughter.” There was anger to her tone, and he knew her well enough to understand she had her guard up right now. She’d left his place upset and emotional, and that was two of the things she hated people seeing. Especially him. She hated being vulnerable. 

Seokjin sighed weakly. “Nana, come on, don’t be like that.” He hesitated, wanting to say sorry for today but the word wouldn’t come. Despite the guilt setting in, he was still pretty angry and frustrated himself. 

“I want to speak with Arin,” she repeated. “Will you let me?”

“Of course I will,” he replied. What did she take him for? 

He turned to Arin, ready to tell her it was her mom on the phone, but she was already waiting, her ears probably catching Nana’s name a few seconds previous. He smiled gently at her and passed his cell phone over. He tried to concentrate on the television as they spoke, not wanting to eavesdrop. Arin was uncharacteristically quiet as she hummed along to whatever Nana was saying, the occasional okay and I know slipping from her lips as she curled a lock of hair around her finger over and over again, but he understood why. Today had been overwhelming for everyone involved but especially her. She hadn’t seen or heard them argue in a long time, both he and Nana careful to hide them from her as of late. Today had been an awful mistake and the now a stronger wave of guilt was eating him up. 

After a few minutes he heard Arin tell her mother she loved her and then she hung up, returning the phone to Seokjin. He stretched over and placed the device on the coffee table, turning back to his daughter apologetically.   “I’m sorry about today, Arin.” 

She immediately flung herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his sides to hug him tight. He squeezed her right back, running his fingers through her hair gently. “Daddy was really angry, I shouldn’t have shouted.” 

“Mommy shouted too,” she reminded him. “She was angry that I called Y/N my stepmom.” Hesitantly she looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry. “I didn’t know it was wrong.” 

Seokjin sighed gently, trying to see things from Nana’s point of view. “It’s not a wrong word. It’s just a word that hurt your mother’s feelings.”  Arin looked a little confused by that explanation, and suddenly Seokjin felt the urge to be as honest as he could with her. She was still young, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. Far from it actually. She deserved not to be kept in the dark. 

“She… she didn’t know that Y/N is my girlfriend.” 

“Why?”

“I was wrong and didn’t tell her.”

Arin stayed silent as she mulled his words over. After a few moments she simply said, “I didn’t know that.” 

Seokjin ran a hand down her back, choosing his next words carefully. “Will you tell me what happened today? How mommy found out?”

Arin wriggled away from him to get comfier, sitting back against the sofa again. Seokjin copied, lifting his arm up so she could cuddle up to him. “She asked if I had a new bracelet and I told her Y/N had bought it for me last weekend when I stayed with her.” 

Looking down at her wrist now, Seokjin saw no bracelet and he guessed Arin had taken it off in a bid not to hurt her mom even more. She was such a sweet child, always thinking of other people’s feelings. 

“Mommy asked who she was and I said she was my stepmom – only because Suzie told me that’s what she is. Suzie has one too and it was fun because then we both had stepmoms.” 

Seokjin nodded along in understanding. “It’s okay, it was only a misunderstanding. But to use that word it needs to be discussed first, okay?” 

It was Arin’s turn to nod and Seokjin continued carefully. He was well aware everything was up in the air now so it hurt hearing the words that came out of his own month. “Right now Y/N is just Y/N. Before we use that word we have to make sure she likes it, alright? And mommy too.” 

“I didn’t know.” 

“I know you didn’t,” he comforted, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He wasn’t even too sure she knew what exactly the word meant. 

They both stayed silent for a little while before Arin spoke again. “You and mommy haven’t argued for a long time until today…because I said that word…”

“Hey,” Seokjin exclaimed softly wanting her to look his way. “We didn’t argue because of you. None of this is your fault, okay? It’s my fault and I’m really sorry.” 

She gave him a small smile and patted his head. “It’s okay, daddy. I still love you.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. He could always count on his daughter to cheer him up. “Thank you, Arin.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you too. Very much.” 

The new week started off badly. He had been foolish to think Mondays were something of a fresh start, foolish to think calling you first thing in the morning was a good idea, and as you told him you needed some space and that you’d call him once the week was over he couldn’t help but think the worst. You’d insisted that you weren’t mad at him, and you had no reason to lie to him, but there was no doubt you were upset… overwhelmed. That morning he’d woken up even more ashamed of the way he’d acted the day before, wincing as he remembered the way he’d lost his temper. He’d sworn that he would never let that side of himself appear ever again, but it was easier said than done. Nana had struck a nerve with the way she had spoken to you and it had been impossible to keep his cool. 

He felt deeply ashamed when he thought about how confused you must have felt watching he and his ex-wife hurl abuse at each other. Deeply ashamed when he thought about the way you’d found out things he had never told you… You were hurt he’d never let you know what triggered his divorce, and he understood why completely. It wasn’t like it hadn’t crossed his mind to share such a personal detail with you, it had, of course it had, he just couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Your experience with infidelity was the complete opposite of his. You had your heart torn to pieces by your ex-fiancé and he had his ego bruised… His marriage with Nana had already been completely over, he just didn’t have the guts to get out. She was correct, he was a coward through and through. 

But most of all he was deeply ashamed of his behaviour entirely. He had never meant to compare the both of you. He had never meant to use you to hurt Nana. It was extremely petty, such a low blow, and he didn’t know where it had come from. Rage had washed over him and he’d spat words that he couldn’t take back. It was the worst thing he’d ever done in his entire life, and despite the grievances he had with Nana, he regretted those words deeply. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her like that. It was shameful, and he felt horrendous for hurting both women with his foolish behaviour. 

Was there a happy ending after this? If Nana didn’t already hate him, she did now, and you were probably not too far behind. You’d seen him at his most poisonous, heard him use you to prove a point, found out things he’d kept from you, and learned he’d kept you a secret from his ex-wife. How embarrassed you must have felt… How confused… He’d made so many mistakes along the way, it was a wonder they hadn’t caught up with him sooner… 

He wouldn’t be able to bear it if you wound up hating him. Not when he loved you so much. He hadn’t even had a chance to confess yet, coming so close to it Saturday night but backing out because he was scared it was too soon. He’d made the decision there and then to tell you once he took you to Paris, getting swept away with the idea and the romance of it all, but now the regret for not professing his love that night was like a lead weight inside his chest. Would it have changed anything? Would yesterday have had a different outcome? 

And while he was regretting things, he regretted not letting Nana know about the relationship. Yesterday could have been avoided completely – maybe. 

The more he thought, the worse it got and by Tuesday he could feel himself spiralling. He knew the feeling all too well. Soobin had already worked out something was the matter. (His lack of morning shave a dead giveaway.) And that meant he was doing a terrible job at hiding his mood. He couldn’t have Arin sensing the same. She obviously hadn’t forgotten about the weekend and wouldn’t anytime soon, but he couldn’t make it worse for her. He needed to be there for her, as her father, not too busy distracted with his own misery. It was selfish. 

But he couldn’t suppress it all. He knew that was unhealthy. So, Tuesday night, once Arin was tucked up in bed sound asleep, he called the one person his former happiness had been neglecting for months now… 

“Seokjin,” Chaewon greeted, her warm voice laced with surprise. “Long time no speak.” 

He felt guilt immediately wash over him. “Yeah… I’m sorry about that.” It was stupid really, she wasn’t taking it personally, he could guarantee that, but nevertheless it was an emotion he was all too familiar with these days. 

Chaewon chuckled. “Don’t apologise for being happy and not needing me.” 

His heart twisted. 

She sensed his trouble. “Jin?”

He hesitated, looking down at the bottle of whisky sat at his desk. He was in his home office. “Something happened.” 

There was silence as his therapist processed his vague words before she pressed him gently, “Oh?” 

He took a breath. “Are you free to talk?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“I’m sorry for calling you out of hours.” He apologised. “Don’t feel bad about billing me for this. I’ll even pay double.” 

“Seokjin, don’t be silly,” she told him softly.  “Let’s name this a friendship call. Now, what’s wrong?” She sensed the last bit of reluctance he was holding onto. “Come on, you can tell me anything.” 

He sighed. “I don’t know where to start.” 

“How about from the beginning?”

They spoke for an hour in the end, Chaewon listening attentively as he explained the weekend’s events. He left nothing out, or least what he could remember. He made no attempt to hide his wrongdoings or soften the story. He didn’t want to. He knew he had done wrong. She was sympathetic, but she didn’t mince her words when it came to her disappoint in him. 

After the argument he and Nana had gotten into just before Arin had moved in with him, he had worked hard with Chaewon to find a way to curb the anger he often felt when he and his ex-wife communicated. He thought he had been successful, but now he realised all he’d done was find ways to avoid it. He barely spoke to Nana unless he had to, a hello barely exchanged when she called in the evenings to speak to their daughter. A text shared to confirm when Arin would get picked up for the weekend, or one shared to cancel visits… He saw her even less. Jia, Nana’s PA and closest friend was the one who collected their daughter, and he knew it was because his ex-wife wanted to avoid him just as much. 

In the long term they had just been making things worse. That’s why last Sunday had been so bad. A build-up of every single frustration felt since the last time they’d seen one another, because no doubt Nana had her own list. It was a recipe for disaster. 

It felt good to confide in someone though, someone who knew him very well on a professional and personal level. Chaewon was amazing at putting him in his place so kindly. It was a gift really, and he appreciated it immensely. The older woman saw his negative traits but never judged him. She understood them and tried her best to help him with them. He guessed that was her job, but she did it so well it was hard not to see her as some sort of friend. 

That’s why when she asked to see him in person tomorrow he didn’t hesitate to free up his schedule. Truth was, he wanted it too. His mind was still clouded and he needed her insight. Her advice. He wanted a good night sleep too but he didn’t think that would be possible any time soon, no matter how much Chaewon tried to help him. Not when his sheets continued to smell like you…   

.

.

“It’s about time you both let go of the past.” 

Seokjin let Chaewon’s words sink in as he sat opposite her, nervously chewing on a nail. It wasn’t a habit of his, but it was somewhat of a distraction right now. A comfort. They should have let go of the past a long time ago. Maybe then they would have divorced sooner. Maybe then there would be less resentment…. 

“Arin is the one thing you have in common and you need to work together in order to be the best possible parents you can.” 

That cut his heart deep, a twinge similar to what he’d felt all week. Ever since you left. “I know,” he replied quietly. “It’s just…”

He couldn’t continue. Despite how he’d insinuated Nana was a bad mother, he didn’t think that deep down. They both loved their daughter equally, but that love was separate. It had been separate practically since she was born. Arin was missing their combined love, although she knew no different… 

“You need to let go of all that bitterness and resentment.” Chaewon continued. Words she had said fairly regularly for the last two years or so. “For your sake, for Arin’s…” But now there was a new addition. “…and Y/N’s.” 

Seokjin snorted. “Who said I haven’t scared her away already?”

Chaewon stare turned a little stern. “It was a shock to the system, anyone would need some time to process what happened.” When he stayed silent, she continued. “You have to make her see you’re trying your best to change things. You need to take responsibility for your actions.” 

“I will.” 

He wanted nothing more than to apologise profusely and answer any questions you had, but you’d requested time first and he was listening. He was just scared that time would work against him. He continued on, ignoring his deepest, darkest worry. 

“It’s not fair on her. She should never have witnessed all that, and it just drums in how unfair this has been to Arin her whole life.” Arin had been the witness to many an argument when he and Nana were still married. “I hurt the people closet to me because of my careless actions,” he concluded with a sad smile. Time after time. 

“And it’s not too late to change that,” Chaewon reminded. “Put a stop to all this nonsense.” 

Seokjin’s smile grew for a millisecond, feeling like a child getting told off. 

“Your marriage with Nana didn’t work out, that’s life. But you have a beautiful little girl together. That’s the most important thing, and it goes hand in hand with your own happiness.” She paused and then continued. “It’s very obvious that Y/N brings a great deal of that to the table.”

Yes, you did make him deliriously happy. He felt young again when he was with you. He felt invincible. Loved. He felt loved. 

“Concentrate on both of them – Arin and Y/N – and make some changes. Talk to Nana – civilly. Make this work and you can all be happy. I promise you that.” 

He had never heard Chaewon like this before, she was practically pleading with him. He let out a little laugh. “You make it sound so simple.” 

She simply smiled at him. “If you’re determined enough, it is.” 

.

.

“Mom wants to talk to you.” 

Seokjin looked at his phone outstretched in Arin’s hand with slight confusion. For the past four nights, ever since Sunday, Nana had spoken with Arin just before she had to get ready for bed. It was routine now, another avoidance, he exchanged a hello with her and then passed the phone on. Her tone less defensive as the days went on. Tonight had been the same despite his session with Chaewon this lunchtime. But to his surprise, maybe Nana was making the first move. 

He took the phone from Arin with a smile, not wanting to make her nervous. Usually he left her alone to speak to her mother, not wanting to pry or insert himself but tonight he was sat next to her on the sofa, replying to emails on his laptop. He hadn’t been listening at all, too engrossed with finalising details for an upcoming project, so of course it had come as a shock to find Arin passing the phone to him. 

“Hello?”

“I was just wondering if I could have Arin this weekend.” Nana totally bypassed a greeting of any kind, but she wasn’t demanding in her tone, nor defensive, it was just the way she was. She’d always been straight to the point, no time for pleasantries, and many years ago, when they’d first met, he’d found it highly amusing. 

“Um, of course,” he replied, taken back a little. He would be more than happy for her to have Arin. It wasn’t her weekend, but that had never bothered him before. He wanted Arin to see her as much as possible. It was only fair seeing as their daughter now lived with him. 

There was a brief silence before Nana spoke again. Had she been expecting him to say no? Surely not. But then again, after last weekend maybe her worries were valid. She found her bearings. “What time does she finish school? I’m taking Friday out, I’ll drive down and collect her.” 

Seokjin couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. Nana had not once collected Arin herself. “She finishes at 3.”

Nana hesitated, “Do you think they’d let her finish early?” 

“I don’t know… It’s usually only emergencies –”

“Never mind,” she stopped him. “There was just a bunch of things I’d planned, thought we could get a head start, it’s fine.” 

He glanced over at Arin who was watching him hopefully. It was obvious what their phone call had entailed. They’d been making plans for the weekend and Arin was visibly excited. He smiled at her. 

“I could always phone the school tomorrow,” he suggested to Nana. “See if it’s possible. Maybe she could skip the whole day?” 

Nana sounded ecstatic. Something he hadn’t heard in years. “Really? Do you think there’s a chance they’d say yes?”

He shrugged to himself. “It’s just one day, I don’t see why not.” 

Nana was busy thinking. “Maybe I could take tomorrow afternoon away from the office too… Pick her up at 3.” 

It was his turn to hesitate now, opening his mouth ready to suggest something. He knew he owed his ex-wife an apology, but over the phone just wouldn’t do. He needed to see her. He went for it. “Or I could do it for you? I can drive her to you.” 

“You would do that?” She sounded shocked. 

“If she’s allowed to miss a day then yes.” 

“Oh.” It wasn’t often Nana was left speechless. “Okay,” she agreed after a moment. “That would be great actually.” 

His attention went back to Arin then, who was practically vibrating with excitement next to him. His replies hadn’t given away much, but it was enough to tell her she’d be seeing her mother this weekend – and possibly skipping a day of school. He grinned at her and she clung to his arm. 

“Can I say bye to mom?” 

“In a minute, Arin,” he chuckled, amused by her eagerness. “We’re not done yet.” His next sentence was directed at Nana. “I’ll text you tomorrow morning and let you know what the principal said.” 

For the first time in god knows how long there was no malice or sarcasm attached to her gratitude. “Thank you, Seokjin.” 

He took it as a positive sign. Things were changing. They would change. 

The next day he dropped Arin off at school himself. The plan had been to head to reception and ask if he could talk with Principal Jung in person, but after saying his goodbyes and watching Arin meet up with some friends in the playground he began to get second thoughts. What if he accidentally bumped into you? He was on pins even in the parking lot. He wanted to give you all the space necessary and the last thing you probably wanted to see was him walking towards you in the corridor. At work. 

No, instead he drove to his office, phoning the principal as soon as he’d finished up his morning meeting. Hoseok – as he’d been told to call him – was completely understanding. Seokjin didn’t even have to whip out the sob story about Arin missing her mom dearly. Dirty tactics were always the last resort, and he could talk a good game, but thankfully his skill wasn’t needed today. Arin was all set to go this evening. 

The drive wasn’t a long one thankfully, just under an hour as Nana lived in the neighbouring city. This wasn’t the first time he’d been to Nana’s penthouse, the place she’d bought after they’d sold their family home, but the last time had been pretty explosive. Not nearly as bad as last weekend, but close. Arin had thankfully been waiting in the car for him that time, as he and her mother argued over where she should live permanently.  

Seokjin stood beside Arin in the elevator, feeling nervous for the conversation he wanted to have. He was never above apologising when he was in the wrong, but with his ex-wife saying sorry had never come easily. It was childish and he knew he needed to change, so today was the perfect test. If he wanted a clean slate he had to be as honest as possible. 

“Mommyyy,” Arin squealed as she opened the door to greet them, barrelling into her practically. 

Seokjin stood back as they hugged, a soft smile on his face. 

“Arin, I missed you,” Nana informed her, breaking away to take her bag. As she did so, she glanced at Seokjin, then back at their daughter. “Listen, darling, go to your room for a little while so I can speak to daddy.” 

Seokjin felt a little relieved. At least they were on the same page – potentially. 

Arin though, was unsure, looking between her parents as she spoke. “I don’t want to. What if you argue again?”

He felt his heart break at her words. “We won’t, sweetie,” he reassured, bending down to look her in the eyes. “I promise.” 

She still looked dubious, but then Nana took over, her voice light and breezy.  “We won’t be long, okay? Think about what pizza you want to order for dinner.” 

Arin’s eyes lit up at that request and Seokjin couldn’t help but chuckle. That pizza obsession of hers was getting dangerous. “Okay,” she agreed easily, waving to him before she skipped off to the furthest part of the apartment. 

Seokjin watched her leave before rising up again, tugging down the ends of his jacket. Nana was looking at him, an unreadable expression on her face, but he knew it wasn’t anger she was feeling, so that was a plus. He thought back to Sunday, how mad they had both been, how upset Nana had looked as she’d rushed off. The guilt came back. 

He exhaled. He might as well just bite the bullet. “I’m sorry for calling you a terrible mother. I didn’t mean it.” 

Nana stayed silent but her arms wrapped around herself. It was such a vulnerable action, it took him by surprise. 

He continued. “I was just frustrated. I let things build up and exploded.” 

She stared him straight in the eyes, shoulders sagging a little but her voice was strong. “You know I love our daughter half to death.”

“I do,” he agreed. “I don’t doubt that.” 

She look relieved. It made him feel oddly sad. He had never wanted to make her doubt herself as a mother. He was a piece of shit. 

Still, she needed to understand some things. His point of view and where he was coming from. His frustrations weren’t all for nothing. They were valid. “But you have to understand I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces when you end up cancelling on her. It takes its toll.” 

Nana’s gaze flickered to the floor as she whispered. “I’m trying to be better.” Then she looked up again, her voice stronger. “I’m trying to free my weekends up. I’m trying not to do as much. I thought maybe I could even have her for an evening every weekday? I could pick her up from school, take her out for dinner. I know it’s a distance but maybe I could get every Wednesday afternoon away from work... Hopefully.” 

Seokjin was impressed. Nana lived and breathed work so to hear she was thinking about possibly taking an afternoon away every week was… It made him very happy. “She’d love that,” he grinned genuinely. “She misses you a lot.” 

Nana couldn’t help but smile too. “I miss her always.” With a slight chuckle she continued, “This apartment is so quiet without her.”

Seokjin looked down at his feet and grimaced slightly. He knew that feeling all too well. Living without Arin had been close to torture after the divorce. Everything felt so silent, the house gigantic and lonely. He hated the thought of Nana feeling the same way. “You can see her any time, Nana,” he murmured. “I’ll never try to stop you.” 

Despite everything, their grievances toward one another, they had and would always co-parent well. Arin was their number one priority and she needed both parents in her life. 

“I know that,” Nana nodded, “and I’d never try to take her from you.” 

It didn’t bear to think about, but he had to admit, sometimes it was easy for irrational thoughts to creep in when someone was left feeling insecure. 

“She loves living with you. She’s really settled at her new school, she never stops talking about her friends.” Nana continued, making small talk of sorts. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d done this. “She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.” 

Seokjin nodded in agreement. She loved her new school, her new friends – her new life, you could say. That was easy to see. 

Nana cleared her throat, dropping her arms to her sides. “I apologise too. I was out of line turning up at your door like that. I was just so mad... so hurt.” She took a few seconds. “I wish you’d just told me.” 

“I should have.” She was absolutely right. “I see that now and I regret it. It was wrong of me to keep my new relationship from you. I wasn’t doing it to be vindictive. I just...” he stopped himself. Even though they weren’t excuses, they felt like they were. His reasons didn’t matter.

“You should have been the first to know because of Arin. If I was in your shoes, if it was the other way around, I would have been angry too.” He stopped and sighed at his stupidity. “I never meant to hurt you, neither did Y/N. She actually had no clue you didn’t know until that day.” 

Nana’s eyes widened with shock, before she looked regretful. “Yeah, that one makes me feel even guiltier. I shouldn’t have spoken to her the way I did. It was a shock to hear Arin speaking about a stranger like that. A stranger I had no clue existed.” 

Seokjin appreciated her apology, but he needed to make sure she understood something. “Yeah, about that, Arin really has never called Y/N her stepmom. We’ve only been together for a few months. I spoke to her about it and Arin understands that’s not the case. It was just kids being kids.” 

Nana nodded. “I shouldn’t have flown off the handle, and I should have listened to your explanation the first time around.” 

He held her gaze. “I’m not trying to replace you, Nana.” 

If that’s what she was worried about, it wasn’t the case. He had never meant to compare the two women and he regretted it deeply. 

Nana’s lips quirked up at the side, her voice relaxed and at ease. “But eventually Arin will call her that.” 

His eyebrows shot up, understanding what she was getting at. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. His relationship with you was up in the air right now. He’d made one too many mistakes. 

Nana brushed him off with sway of her hand. “I guess I’ll learn to deal with it when the time comes.” 

He admitted defeat. “And I’ll have to do the same.” 

It was inevitable really. One day Arin would probably have two blended families and while he really wanted his to be with you, he didn’t want to get his hopes up right now. 

Nana snorted. “Fat chance of that happening. I don’t have time to fall in love again.” 

He stayed silent, unsure what to say. He’d thought the same once upon a time. Until you walked straight into his life. (Or, more fittingly, until he’d reversed straight into yours.) Everyone deserved love in their life and he hoped that one day his ex-wife would find it again. 

She was looking over at him sadly now, eyes softening, and it was almost jarring to see her show this much emotion in front of him. “I did love you, you know,” she murmured before laughing quietly at herself. “I felt like I never told you enough, but in the beginning it was good, right?” 

“It was.” Seokjin hated getting nostalgic, in fact, he actively avoided it, but in this moment he let himself go. Ten years ago, he and Nana had fallen hard for one another. It was fast and exhilarating but – “We just…” 

“Rushed into things that weren’t meant to be?” She finished for him. 

He’d been so eager to marry before he was thirty, to follow in his parents’ footsteps. He wanted, no, needed, to become CEO.  He needed to build something he could be proud of, and having a family fit into that logic. He’d had tunnel vision, but it wasn’t all bad. 

“I can’t regret it though,” he told Nana softly, “because we made Arin.” 

“At least we agree on one thing,” she chuckled. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. 

It was strange speaking like this with one another. He couldn’t even think of the last time something similar had happened. They were always too busy at one another’s throats, not listening to what the other had to say. Now all that fight had gone. They were both exhausted from years of bitterness. Years of fighting. 

He didn’t want to fight anymore. 

Nana seemed to think the same. 

“I’m ashamed she had to hear us fight like that,” she said. “I apologised on the phone but…” 

“She’s okay.” He reassured. “I think she still thinks it’s her fault a little though. I’ve tried telling her it wasn’t repeatedly.” 

“I’ll talk to her over dinner.” 

“Good idea.” 

There was a pregnant pause before Nana chuckled. “This is the first time we’ve spoken so civilly in a long time.” She hesitated, wanting to say something else. He waited patiently, curious. “Maybe we should think about talking it out with a professional?” 

He raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t a bad idea actually, but then… thing seemed to be working out well on their own right now. “Maybe we should see how things go first? Now that we know how one another feels.” They weren’t out of the dark yet, but it was looking hopeful. “But if you think it will help then I won’t refuse,” he added, wanting to show how seriously he was taking this. 

She smiled slightly. “Okay, we’ll see how things go.” 

It seemed like the conversation had run its course then, and Seokjin shuffled, about to suggest he head out now, but Nana spoke again. “Are you okay?” She asked. “No offence, but you look like shit.” 

He laughed, actually laughed, at her words. He could always count on her to be honest with him. “I haven’t been sleeping very well,” he admitted, “but talking with you definitely helped.” 

She eyed him doubtfully. “I hope I haven’t ruined things with you and Y/N. I can talk with her if you want?” 

“No, it’s fine,” he shook his hand. 

She looked down, feeling foolish. “I guess I did enough damage.” 

He chuckled. “No, pretty sure I did that all on my own.” 

Looking up, her mouth opened, as if she was about to ask him what he meant but stopped herself at the last second. She wasn’t there yet, and neither was he. 

He took a step back. “I should go.”

Nana went to follow him to the door. “I’ll have her back by Sunday. Do you want to say goodbye?” She saw his nod and called for their daughter, her voice echoing off the walls. “Arin? Arin, darling, come here and say bye to your dad.” 

A few seconds later he heard Arin’s footsteps getting closer, she hovered by the entryway, looking worried for a second, as if she was expecting the worst but then she saw her parents smiling faces and relaxed instantly. 

“I’ll see you Sunday, okay?” Seokjin told her as she made her way towards him. He reached to pick her up, something she scolded him over sometimes because it was “embarrassing” now. She was getting older, he kept forgetting, because to him she would always be his little girl. This time however, she let him do so, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed his cheek. 

“Okay, bye daddy. Love you.” 

“Love you, too,” he grinned, kissing her back before he put her down.

Nana watched on with a grin of her own. 

Being home alone was odd. Seokjin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on his own. In the week Misook was here to help out with Arin and the housework, then every other weekend she often dropped in when he needed her. When the house wasn’t occupied by his daughter or Misook, you were here with him, so it had been quite a while since it was just him. It reminded him of the past, when he’d lived here all alone. He never wanted to go back to that. 

He was happy to see Friday roll around. It felt like he’d been waiting all his life. Just one more day and he’d get to speak to you. The lack of communication was killing him. Ever since you’d began dating you’d spoken every day. It felt strange to be without that, like he was missing a part of himself. He’d been able to distract himself with work throughout the week, but no amount of distractions could really stop him from thinking about you. Stop him from missing you. Because he did. Terribly. 

The photo on his desk didn’t help matters either – the two of you smiling together on the fishing trip he’d organised over the summer – but like hell was he hiding it away in a drawer. 

It was probably best that Arin was with Nana this weekend. It gave you both some time to talk and sort things out – hopefully. He was praying so hard that everything would be okay, but he was getting ready to fight for you. Just in case. Of course he would listen to what you had to say, and respect it too, but if it happened to be bad news he would try his best to make you see how sorry he was and how hard he was trying to change. He couldn’t lose you. Not when he loved you so much.

You made him want to be a better man. 

.

.

He got home pretty late from the office, staying just to avoid an empty house and after having a quick shower and ordering takeout, he decided on an early night. This week had been mentally and emotionally draining so it was probably for the best. Plus the sooner he slept the sooner tomorrow would come. 

He’d just stepped out of the bathroom when he heard his phone ring in his sweatpants pocket. He pulled the device out automatically, expecting it to be Namjoon, because who else would be calling at this time? But to his surprise and utter amazement, he saw your name flashing across his screen. 

His heart began to pound embarrassingly loud and he rushed to answer, sounding a little breathless as he murmured your name.

“Hey, you,” your replied, and he swore he could hear the smile in your voice. His shoulders instantly released the tension he hadn’t realised they’d been holding. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to call tonight.” He heard himself say, cursing himself because it sounded so dumb. He was over the moon you’d decided to call. Of course he was. 

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

“Of course not,” he rushed. “Well,” he laughed, “I was just about to head to bed.” 

You laughed along softly, the sound making his heart sing. “I was going to wait until tomorrow but Soojung is with Taehyung tonight and being alone means I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

He couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips. It was so good to hear you say that. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week. Are you ready to talk? I’m willing to answer any questions you have.” He meant every word. 

“I’m ready,” you replied. “Should I come over? I don’t want to do this over the phone.” 

“I can come to you?” He suggested instead, not wanting you to go out of your way for him. “Arin’s with Nana until Sunday.” 

“Oh. Okay. Now?” 

“It’s not too late?” 

“No, it’s fine.” You sounded a little eager and that just made even more relieved. He’d been expecting the worst all along. “I really want to see you.” 

He smiled, happiness overwhelming him. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Really soon.” As he spoke he made his way into the closet, opening up his drawers to find a clean t-shirt. 

“Don’t speed,” you told him jokingly.  

“Of course I won’t,” he laughed. “I’m going to hang up now but I won’t be long.” 

“Okay, see you soon, Seokjin.” 

He couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he said his final goodbye, his heart racing with excitement as he tore off his old shirt to put the new one on. It was a little creased, but it would do. He didn’t have time to find anything else. 

He needed to see you. 

He needed to be with you. 

[ssplague]

Chapter 0ne

“And so it begins”

Katsuki B. X Reader

Rated M

Warnings: Gaslighting, manipulation, power play, light degradation

The day before the two of you left for UA; Your best friend gave her word to your mother that she would always look after you. Now that the two of you are in your third year she’s officially FED UP with your attitude and childish antics. Mentioning her dilemma to your shared group of friends results in the most unlikely person offering to be her solution to the problem that is YOU.

A/N: The girl in the banner is NOT how the reader is “supposed” to look, it was just a drawing I did specifically for this. You look however you want to, I don’t really make any specific references to your appearance in this story.

🌅

Its Saturday morning; Ive been awake for about five minutes now, but I’m not ready to open my eyes and embrace the conscious world just yet. Hearing the door of my room unlock and open does the trick though. Only one person (other than myself of course) has a key to my dorm room.

“I made breakfast for the both of us, its your favorite” announces Euphie as she walks in, kicking the door shut behind her. I sit up, just as she’s pushing my black out curtains to the side I let out a hiss of disdain as sunlight immediately begins to permeate the room.

“Thank you Euphie” I say with a yawn.

She hands me a plate before settling down on my bed, acknowledging my thanks with a nod as we both tuck in.

“We have plans this afternoon, can you be ready by at least 12:30? No need to get super made up but at least out of your pajamas?” Euphies voice is gentle, but I catch the underlying “I’m not asking, but telling you” vibe she tries to hide.

“For sure”

She smiles at my seemingly agreeable mood so early in the morning and we easily segway into our standard start of the day discussions. “Are we um…Are we going to be busy all day? I….I kinda planned on going to hangout with-“ Euphie cuts me off as she picks up our plates: “No worries you’ll have plenty of time for that, I promise!” Giving me a wink before shutting my door.

She didn’t even know who I was referring to, or what I was going to say….

At 12:55 Euphie reappears to rush me out of my room.

“Hey I forgot my purse I-“

“Don’t need it”

“But my wallet is-“

“Not necessary”

Her tone is clipped, and she has a death grip on my wrist as she quite literally drags me down the hallway. Initially I was taken aback, not being used to receiving this type of treatment from her. My bearings have started returning along with growing frustration each time one of my questions are receiving one word answers, or met with a complete dismissal. Reaching my limit I fail to notice that she’d began to slow down, and I’m wrenching my wrist free of her grip at the exact same time she’d come to a stop.

“What in the fuck is your problem?! You told me that we had plans to go out this afternoon, and you’d treat me to whatever I want!

This-“ I’m interrupted again.

“I certainly wouldn’t do anything for a fuckin’ brat throwing a tantrum like this”

My eyes snap to the side where I see the irritated scowl of one Katsuki Bakugou, as he leans against his door frame glowering at me. Embarrassment further fuels my anger as I turn toward him, pointing an acusatory finger as I begin “No one fucking asked you, stay out of it Katsu-“.

Kirishima suddenly emerges from Bakugo’s room, giving Euphie an enthusastic greeting

“Hey there! You look nice, ready to head out?”. The red head is flashing his signature shark toothed grip at my best friend as he offers her his arm. “You know it” she giggles, taking hold of his muscular bicep. The two of them start to walk off, confused and furious I start to head after them, but a large hand grips my shoulder grounding me in place.

“Bakugo told me he wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on you while Kiri and I went out this afternoon, this way you’ll stay out of trouble and get to keep the plans you’d made with him, bye!” The closing elevator doors add a sudden finalization to her brief explanation.

“Plans?” Bakugo questions while uncermoniously yanking me backwards.

I stumble back, falling through the doorway and landing flat on my ass in front of the now closed door (Which he is standing in front of). Glaring up at him as he continues: “She must have me confused with the local brothel, because thats the only place I’d imagine wearing a skirt as short as that would be deemed appropriate”. His insult doesn’t deter his crimson eyes from roaming the length of my body, lingering on the aforementioned skirt. Getting to my feet, he walks around me and move towards his desk, taking a seat behind it.

“Oh fuck you Katsuki, you can be a real dick sometimes, I dunno what stupid Euphie told you about keeping and eye on me, but I dont need a fucking baby sitter! So ill be off now” with a huff you turn towards the door. “________, I’m not in the mood for bullshit today so just sit down and shut up” he growls, not turning to look at you. He always feels embarrassingly giddy when you adress him by his first name, thats why he insisted you call him by it. That in itself should be an indication of how he seems to favor you.

It makes him almost feel a bit guilty for using a harsh tone when he’d spoken to you. Despite how he treats others, Katsuki is hardly ever outright mean to you; He’s never even given you a derogatory nickname like he has for everyone else. Today’s an off day though…He’s just not used to running on little to no sleep. That paired with his already non existent level of patience makes for a blow up. Especially when YOU were the cause of his latest bout of insomnia….turning to look at you has his thoughts beginning to wander.

Those lips of yours flapping away as you berate him…

They sure would look a helluva lot better wrapped around his-

“-Not even fucking listening to me are you?!” You snarl, starting towards the door again. “I cant believe I woke up this morning wanting to hangout with YOU, guess I’ll change my plans and hangout with someone not so shitty to me…. Like Deku!” A loud crash comes from behind you. The now enraged man had stood up so abruptly, it sent his now vacated chair careening into the wall and toppling over.

“You really just cant help yourself can you?”

His voice is so eerily quiet as he turns to face you, something unidentifiable flashes in his rapidly darkening crimson orbs. You couldn’t exactly identify it, considering it disappeared as abruptly as it had originally came.

“Course you cant, I already know that”

A menacing smile appears on his face as he takes his first step toward you, immediately triggering your natural “Fight or flight” response.

“I know what you need”

He’s only an arms length away when you start to step back.

“You dont know shit”

You somehow summon the courage to speak, but are unable to summon any false bravado to keep you from betraying how unnerved he’s got you feeling as he takes another step.

“I know that your best friend cant stand what a spoiled fuckin’ brat you’ve become, I know she’s so fed up with your shit that she’s about to write you off completely”

The defiant expression you’d worn all this time finally starts to falter.

This marks the first time Katsuki has ever seen how you look when your confidence begins to ebb away, only to be replaced with a mixture of uncertainty and fear.

His sadistic side emerges with glee as your now saddened doe eyes meet his.

“You’re constantly disregarding everyone’s opinion of you unless it aligns with your own, but you dont even know what to think of yourself now that your faced with the possibility of being alone now…do you?

You remain silent, taking yet another step back as he continues speaking.

“You need someone who isn’t afraid to correct you, but they’ll have to of earned your respect….So when you inevitably step out of line, you wont put up a fight when you get put over their knee”

Your back hits the wall.

You swallow down the panic that slowly begun to rise from your chest up into your throat as you realize there is nowhere left for you to go.

“You desperately want to be a good girl, just dont know how to be one, huh princess?”

It’s so adorable the way your bottom lip juts out, but at the first quiver it quickly gets sucked between your teeth.

“That’s why you’re acting out right now isn’t it?

I bet you drench your cute little panties every time you get a rise out of me. Always hoping that its going to be the time I yank you the fuck up and put this brat in her goddamn place, hah?”

You shamelessly lean into the large hand thats now cupping your cheek, letting out a sigh as his thumb caresses your soft skin.

“Mhmmm”

It’s horrifying how easily you just admitted your most guarded secret! The triumphant smirk he sports makes it even harder to accept.

His tone is surprisingly gentle when he starts addressing you once again;

“I can do that for you baby….Let me be the one that finally brings the princess down on her knees”.

Your eyes are practically sparkling at the feel of a sudden pressure being applied to your throat. His calloused fingers squeezing the delicate skin of your neck, effectively making it harder and harder for you to breathe. The thrill of this foreign feeling is instantly addicting.

“Tell me if thats what you want: If its not then shake your head and we never speak of this again”

Bakugo has to at least give the illusion that you have a choice in the matter. Even though its more than obvious that you need want this just as much as he does.

“I want it, I want you” your words come out in a breathy whisper as he releases his hold on your throat.

“I wanna hear you say it princess, what do you want me to do with you”

“I want…no I NEED you to….t-to make me into your good girl please…”

He gestures for you to continue, his raised brow implying you must be forgetting something.

“Please make me into your good girl….Daddy”

The pleading expression and twinge of desperation in your voice stirs something deep inside Bakugo. It was something akin to the last vestiges of some ancient seal had disappeared: The monster that it had rendered dormant had finally roused from its slumber, intent on wreaking havoc.

“You do understand that you’re mine now right ________? Every part of your being belongs solely to me”

Gorgeous ruby eyes scrutinize your face carefully, searching for a single trace of fear, uncertainty, or possible apprehension. All they found was admiration and girlish excitement, and this earned you a genuine smile from the almost always scowling young man.

“Yes, every part of me belongs to you now Katsuki”

“Better get used to this then”

Before you could inquire what he was referring to, he was kissing you.

❤️‍🔥

A/N: So concludes chapter one

Oh god I hope this is well received.

Should I get a tag list together? Is it too soon? If anyone would be interested leave a comment. SMUT in the next chapter, we’re moving faster here because let’s be honest; Smut is what all of us want! 💦

[sashi-ya]

{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH. 5 – FINAL PART

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU. ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory. Wano kuni arc.  ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages.  ♥ TW: NSFW, violence. Drama (a lot of it), some broken bones. And fluff, a lot of it. No further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥A/N: thank you so so much for reading until the end of this story. I enjoyed writing these chapters so much! I hope you enjoyed it as much as me. I’ll be pleased to accept any request or commentaries on this or other fics.

Word count: 5.0K

» List of parts: {CH1}  {CH2}  {CH3} {CH4}«

 Chapter 5

Next thing I remember was opening my eyes and seeing Law’s face. He was carrying me in his arms, my hearing went from a loud buzzing to his voice. “Y/n-ya, answer me, come back, are you with me??”, my best friend kept asking me while running. I gave him a smile, and the only thing I could say to him was, “I’m sorry”, until I passed out again. 

The night sky was deep blue, full of stars and a big moon that enlightened the whole room. I recovered my senses a few hours after, since Law has saved my life, once again. He was next to me, brushing his hand over my forehead, looking straight at the door with his katana on the other hand. I was lying on my bed. Around me, a whole disaster, everything I owned was scattered over the floor. 

Once again, the first words that came out from my mouth were “I’m sorry”. I have put my whole crew, Law, and even my life in danger just because of my stupid pride… My personal doctor smiled at me and told me to shut up. He began to cry, openly, looking directly to my face. He was not hiding under his hat, not even over my chest. He was showing me how hurt he was, and this was for sure the very first time I’ve seen him cry like this. “I am the one who should be sorry. I left you alone, I abandoned you. Everything because I was scared, because I didn't want to accept how much I love you, I was afraid of changing, of putting you in danger. Look how you’ve ended because of me, they were searching for me…” he said, hitting his chest with his hand in a fist. He continued, “That’s the reason I wouldn’t really admit that the love I felt was more than just caring for a friend… I’m sorry Y/n-ya. I’m sorry… everything I said, it was a lie… I’ve loved you since...forever. You were always my star, the only person I could look at, when I was in the dark, you shine so bright, you light up my soul…”. I tried to get up from bed, but a throbbing pain on my ribs stopped me from it. “ugh… Law…”, he told me to remain still on bed, and informed me that 5 of my left ribs were broken. I wanted to say so many things, to tell him it was alright, that I wanted to go back to the polar and resume our journey as if nothing happened, but… it wasn’t that easy, I was hurt too. I remained silent, looking through the window, searching for the best words to say, to express everything I had inside my chest. 

I finally decided to speak. Law was still crying, but he wouldn’t guard down, he was protecting me. I said, “Oi, dumbass… how did you find me?”, “I followed your vivre card, of course” he answered sobbing. “Yeah, but… how did you get here so fast? where were you?”, I asked. I guess his cheeks turned to red, he seemed as if he was blushing, and after stuttering a little, he confessed, “I.. we.. I stayed in the submarine on the other side of the island, I was scared. Everybody agreed on waiting for you…”. 

He was always here?... of course, he was, his vivre card would always point to the same place. And... that time I went exploring the whole island, I thought I saw the guys in the distance, on the shore… I... thought it was just my imagination… I began to cry and laugh at the same time, covering my eyes with my hands. “I love you, dumbass. I love you more than anything, you were always here, you didn’t abandon me”. Suddenly I was so happy, I knew he wouldn’t leave me, I knew he would always protect me... I knew it. I was full of joy...  

Law laid next to me in bed, softly because he knew how hurt I was, hugged me and kissed my forehead. He had the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. He looked so relieved. The warmth I felt on my chest when I had his vivre card over, I was now feeling it all over my body. 

We stayed like this for a few minutes until Law said, “You need to rest, and I need to be alert in case some more bastards come”. I calmed him, “they won’t come here, they think we are on the submarine, leaving this city… Do you remember your vivre card?”. He looked at me, worried. I continued, “I’m sure you think that yonkou’s subordinates have found and stolen your vivre card from here, right?”. He nodded and said, impatient, "yes, when I was beating the shit out of them, I heard that they have finally found it, how come they don't have it?". “If I have learned something from you throughout all of this years is to plan things out… Yesterday morning, before leaving home I got the feeling that I should carry your vivre card with me…” I slowly pulled the little paper from my bra and showed it to him. He widened his eyes and was about to say something, but I resumed speaking like a smart detective, “Yet, a few days ago I thought of how dangerous it was that someone could find your vivre card, my dear ex Shichibukai…so, I made a fake one, I used some fish scales that I took from a fish of the river to make it, write your name on it, and leave it on that little box you now see empty over the dresser. So, I think they might be following that fish...”. Law’s face was priceless, at first, he was dumbfounded, but a few seconds later we both burst into laughing. 

Despite how painful it was to laugh with a few broken ribs I couldn’t help it. It was too funny, and it was the first time I laughed since a long long time. I missed those days when we were younger, had no place to stay and even if the cold was getting into the bones, a few stupid phrases of Bepo or Penguin made us laugh uncontrollably. It was, after all, our "Laugh Tale".

“Oi, you should eat something, are you hungry?”, asked my doctor, to which I replied with a sexy smile “I am hungry for you, doc”. “I’d love to fuck you right here, right now, as hard as I want, but It wouldn’t be ethic, you’ll be in pain…” he said straightforwardly to my face. I gasped; I love how Law gets when he is horny… “Now, tell me where the food is, I’m going to cook something”, he said and I pointed to a few groceries that were still on the counter. 

Law gathered a few of the things that were scattered all over the floor and promised me to clean everything up tomorrow. He was acting like a husband, how cute.

I contemplated how he focused on cooking frowning. The last time I saw him cooking was when we were little, sometimes he woke me up with breakfast, sometimes he would broil some potatoes, but somehow every time he did, his eyes got sad. So, before Penguin, Shachi and Bepo arrived I normally cooked for him.  

“Here, let me help you sit on the bed”, he said, bringing two plates of some risotto he made for us. He left the plates over the floor, hugged me, put a pillow behind my back and sat me on the bed. 

“Mmmh, where did you learn to cook risotto, Law? This meal is delicious!”, I said, delighted with the taste of the food. He looked at me with one of his cheeks poofed with food and smiled with his eyes. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that smile, I’m so in love with him, damn it…

The foliage of the trees that surrounded my little room began to move every time the autumn breeze blew through them. Everything was so calm. I felt as if no more danger was around me, as if nothing that could happen from now on, could be worse than being apart from Law. 

We chatted for a little bit while eating, we were happy, no worries, Law never stopped smiling and neither did I. He helped me to lay down on bed again, and he did the same next to me. “I love you”, Law whispered to me while grabbing my face with his hands, softly caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. Our noses touching, both smiling. “I love you too…”.

Morning came and a sweet smell of honey woke me up. Law was softly kissing my forehead with a cup of tea on his hands. “Good morning darling, I made you a green tea with honey”. I covered my mouth trying not to laugh, but it was impossible. I broke out laughing. Don’t get me wrong, I thought that what he did was the most cute thing ever… but… can you imagine Trafalgar D. Water Law being all cute and romantic? “This is the first time you call me “darling”, I’m sorry”, I said and kept giggling. His face changed to a poutier one so I stopped laughing, “I’m sorry Law… I mean… babe?.” I said and took a sip of the tea. 

He gave me a little smirk, and directed his sight to the floor while saying, “I’m ok with any name you call me, I like “babe”, It makes me happy”. This was the first time I saw him in love, and it was… with me. 

After breakfast, he washed the dishes and called Bepo. “Aya aya, Captain!! how are you? is Y/n with you? is she ok?!”, screamed the polar bear on the other side of the line. “Oi Bepo, yes, she is with me, she is ok. Are you ok? did you notice something suspicious or any movements last night?”. Ah… Law, always talking like he is some sort of a secret agent of the marines…. “Captain, Penguin speaking. We saw two ships leave the coast at night, they got the Beast pirates flag. They didn’t see us; we were hiding as you told”. “Perfect, Y/n-ya has five broken ribs, I put them in place, but she will have to rest on the mainland for a few days, the pressure of the submarine could make the pain worse if she goes immediately underwater. Please, keep informing me at any suspicious movement. And don’t worry, they aren’t following my vivre card”, Law informed my nakamas and hung up the den den mushi. 

“Y/n-ya... darling… I should change your bandages and treat your wounds, are you up for it?”, he asked like the good doctor he is. “Yes, honey, let’s do it. I’m sure you already know, but there are some supplies in the bathroom, but If they aren’t enough, you could go and ask Dr. Saturn, I’ve been working with him as his medical assistant”, I told him. He looked at me, and suddenly his eyes turned to fire. Law rarely loses his taciturn countenance, but that time his face transformed into pure hate. “What is it?”, I asked him without any clue of what was happening. “That bastard, that “doctor”, he sold you to the pirates”, he almost shouted. Profoundly shocked, I mumbled “What? how… how did you know?”. “I investigated while we were apart, I didn’t mean to follow you or else, but… I was worried, I wanted to protect you… even though I let these things happen to you”, he said now with a guilty tone, while unfolding the bandages. “It’s ok, it’s now over, from now on we will be together to protect us” ... I told him with a side smile that soon turned into a little wince. 

Soon I was left with no bandages on my body, my torso naked, covered in bruises and scuffs. Law softly brushed some cotton embedded on alcohol over the scuffs, he was so delicate that It felt almost as a tickle sensation. His hands always worked as stethoscopes because of the Ope Ope no mi, so he then placed a hand over my heart and checked my heartbeat. The cold breeze and the soft touch of his hands over my nipples made them turn hard, and a little gasp slipped out of my mouth. The touch of skin over mine lit a fire inside of me.

Law looked at me top to bottom, finally worshipping with his intense grey eyes, my boobs. Licking his upper lip, he slowly approached his mouth over one of my erect nipples. He licked it from bottom up, fixing his eyes on mine, smirking sexy. My body squirmed as the sensation of his wet tongue struck me with a wave of pleasure. Even if It hurt, even if I had a few broken ribs, that little action made me wish he fucked me hard, I needed to, I had a real lust for him. 

He kept on using his mouth, he would lick, softly bite, suck both of my tits, gently enough to avoid my ribs hurt. 

“Oi, let me put you some bandages, if not… we can’t continue…”, he said. And I, that I was lost in the arousal that Law was producing on me, agreed. He started folding my torso with the elastic bandages, the pressure over my skin that sometimes hurt, also contributed to the heat of the moment. “Imagine if instead of bandages, I used some ropes…” he softly whispers next to my ear from behind. 

I turned my face to the side and reached for his mouth. We kissed passionately, lustfully, erotically. 

The bandages were so tightly snuggled that I couldn’t feel any pain. Law managed to tight them perfectly so they could be holding my ribs but letting my breasts free of them. 

My lover delicately laid me down on the bed, took off his shirt and settled over me. Law ran his hand over my face, caressing my skin, while maintaining his weight with the other arm at the side of my head. I kissed his palm with the side of my mouth. This moment felt magical for us, our eyes interlocked with pure love for each other, it was more than just pleasure. He was making love to me, and I did too. 

His fingers travelled from my face to my sex, getting moistened with how wet I was. His tattooed index finger lingered over my clit tracing circles around and over it. A few moments later he put the finger on my mouth requesting me with a “taste your flavour” to lick his finger. I sucked it so lewdly, that made him groan loudly. 

He knelt in front of me and used his middle and ring finger with a “come hither” motion inside of me, spotting the G point, making me arch my back and moan loudly. And as if that pleasure wasn’t enough, he also used his tongue over my pleasure button. I cummed so hard, squirting his whole hand. 

Far from being exhausted I invited Law to release the bulge trapped into his trousers and to come near my mouth. “I want you to jack off and fuck my mouth, babe” I asked him with an inviting obscene tone. The surgeon gasped and as fast as he could took his pants off. I opened my mouth with my head over the pillow sticking my tongue out, awaiting to taste his sweet member. 

First, I licked it, then I grabbed it with my hands and placed it inside of my mouth. Law was so heated that couldn’t resist himself and hold my jaw in order to fuck my mouth, first cautiously, but then violently as he left himself go with the desire and the pleasure he was experiencing. I fixed my teary eyes on his, choking with the length and width of his hard rock pennis. He didn’t finish, but instead, went straight to fuck me. 

Again, he was settled over me, delicately penetrating me, with soft thrusts at first but increasing the pace with every pounding. He strongly held my wrists over my head while fucking me. 

Letting me go he approached his body to mine, letting the side of his abs slightly rest over my stomach in order not to put so much pressure over my ribs. He charged all of his weight over the right side of his body and his elbow on the bed and kept on fucking me. The penetration was slowly just for the both of us to feel every movement in detail. Law stroked my hair as I whined more and more with pleasure. We both came almost together, with our mouths pressed moaning “I love you”. 

Three days after, I felt better enough to take a walk, so after the guys confirmed that the city was free of dangerous enemies, we left the house for the first time. The fall had fully arrived at the island, warmth colours, chilly breeze that softly made some far away sunflower fields dance, the floor covered in dry red and brown tinted leaves, a few pumpkins that the citizen had on their porches, some shop owners already putting up Halloween decorations and a few kids playing on the street were part of the scenery of our walk. Law didn’t speak much as always, and I was enjoying how his tanned skin got bathed by the orangey tones of the afternoon sun. 

Eventually, we arrived at the city centre, where the local producers market was taking place. I told Law that I wanted to buy some flowers from Mrs. Ann stand at the fair as I always did. He smiled at me, showing he agreed, and I started almost running. I recognized that I could be a little childish and impulsive sometimes, especially for someone like Law. “Oi! don’t run babe!!” he warned me and grabbed my hand in order to stop me. I looked back at him; my hair got blown by the wind as well as my skirt. I gave him a wide grin, slid my arm so that he could now hold my hand and pulled him towards me. The very first seconds he looked so mad at me, but then he let himself go and followed my pace with a big smile. We were almost running, holding hands, making the crows and larks fly off the streets scared of us. 

“Hello Mrs. Ann, I’m here to buy you some pretty flowers, what bouquets do you suggest?” I asked the florist. “Hello, my dear! you seemed so happy today! who is this handsome young man that joins you today?!”, she said curious. My smile quickly faded, and I realized that we still haven’t talked about what we actually are, so, “Uhm… he is…”, “His boyfriend, I’m his boyfriend”, Law ended my sentence with a straight face. I blushed and giggled, I felt as if a hundred butterflies were flying inside of my stomach. Mrs Ann smiled at us, with genuine happiness, and said “So, this time we should let him pick the flowers for you, right young man?”. Law pointed to the sunflower’s bouquet and timidly said “Those, her favourite flowers are sunflowers, so I guess I’ll take those”. “Good choice boy, you know why sunflowers are so special? They usually face the sun, but whenever it is cloudy, they face each other so they get enough energy… Same goes with couples, whenever there are clouds in the sky, they should count on each other, until the sun comes back again, and both can enjoy it together”. Law smiled at her and then at me, I know for sure that we both count with each other, I know we do.  We bought some more groceries and ended up having a picnic on the fields. This life was somehow better than I thought, but soon our couple time should be over. Our journey must continue, our missions should be complete, and we were young, we would have plenty of time once we achieve our goals to grow old together. 

Two days after we returned to the submarine, and despite spending the last two days thinking of a better way to communicate with our crew that we… were dating, we couldn’t find the perfect way. Law was mortified, he hates to show emotions, and whenever our crew knows the big news, the amount of energy it's going to be too much to handle. 

We could sight the Polar Tang that was moored on the coast, everybody was on the deck waving at us, shouting our names. Law was slowly hiding under the coat collar with every scream, and I was waving at them. I have missed them so much. “Guuuuuys!! guuuuuys!!! oii!!” I screamed, Law grabbed my hand and said, “be careful, you are not fully recovered yet”. “I’m sorry doc, I’ll behave… I promise. That means also no more sex until I get fully healthy, right?” He looked at me with a “how dare you?” expression but I kept talking, “fufufu… don’t worry I was joking, I couldn’t say no to getting railed by you, babe…”. I winked at him and he smirked saying “You are a lost cause…”. 

The whole crew hugged me, expressing to me how much they have missed me, that I shouldn’t ever leave again and asked me why the hell I had left the submarine in the first place. I told them that tonight we should have a party and that Law, and I would explain everything in detail. My nakamas agreed on such a good plan and began to prepare everything to set sail. 

I saw Law carrying my stuff inside, so I followed him. He entered his room with my baggage, and I stopped at the door… “Law, why are you putting my stuff in your room?” I asked, a little confused. “We are going to sleep together from now on, this should be your room too, right?” I widened my eyes, what have I done to the cold emo boy I once knew? I was pleased but surprised for sure. “Well, I’m fluttered, are you willing to hear me snore every night from now on?”, I asked, mocking him. “I’m ok with hearing you snore, if that is the price I have to pay for fucking you every night and cuddling with you”, he said, with a calm attitude. We both laughed and he helped me to unpack everything. While putting everything in place I saw an old polaroid we took back at Dressrosa after the big fight over his nightstand, and over it there was the necklace I had returned to him last time I was in the submarine. “Oi, babe, can you put me the necklace back, please” I said, holding it in my hands and showing it to him. Law smiled, approached me, and while he passed the chain on my neck, he said “Next jewel I’d like to put on you will be a ring…”. I giggled a little and kissed his cheek. 

The night came and we were already in the middle of the sea, the sky was garnished with little stars that lit up our party, and the guys were drinking, dancing, and shouting.  I decided that I’ll never leave them again, whatever comes to us, whatever happens between Law and I, this was my family, and I would be always with them no matter what. 

I went inside looking for a blanket because the night breeze at the open sea could be quite cold. We usually keep some blankets in a little room next to the kitchen for easy access in case we emerge, and someone has to guard on the outside. Suddenly someone hugged me from behind. I instantly recognized my beloved sweet scent. He placed his chin over my shoulders, and his hands wrapped around my low stomach. We remained like this for a few moments, enjoying our company, dancing to the music that came from outside. We began to kiss gently, and Law closed the little door. We laughed while our lips were still pressed and then with our foreheads also. The joy and intimacy I experienced was so cute, as if we were just married… "stop, let me help us with something, SILENTO" I said, and snapped my fingers, creating a safe space where nobody in the submarine could listen to us with the power of my Nagi Nagi no mi. "Nobody can hear us now, we can be as naughty as we want'' I told him with a lascivious expression while grabbing him by his chin. That probably fanned the flames even more, so he pushed me against the wall and while kissing me, he started unbuttoning my trousers, and then almost ripping my panties off too. He put 2 fingers on my mouth for me to suck on them just to made them wet with my saliva. He shoved them into my pussy and moved them as he only knew how to. While he was fingering me, with the hand that until then was on my breast, he took off his pants revealing a huge erection that was about to be inside of me. 

He grabbed one of my thighs, holding it up, just to spread my legs even more so he could fuck me even deeper, right there, standing, with my back pressed against some sort of metallic wall. I wasn't able to think anything besides how I wanted him to fulfill me with his hard cock. He fucked me so hard, I almost lost full control of my limbs, thank God he was holding me as If I weighed anything less than a feather. Damn, how strong he is. We let ourselves go, and after lustfully enjoying our fleshly lusts, we decided it was time to come back to the party. We were unaware that we climbed the leather to the deck holding hands and smiling at each other, so all of a sudden, the music stopped, as well as the murmur of the crew. Shachi shouted, “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! of course everything that happened was because of this!” I closed my eyes, waiting for Law to shout and order them to shut the fuck up, but instead he said, “Of course it was because of this, it doesn’t take too much to come up to the conclusion… you idiot”. I started laughing, followed by my nakamas. The whole night came by with us celebrating my return to the submarine and the new couple...

 A few adventures and two years after. End of the Grand Line, Laugh Tale Island…

I could still hear Mugiwara and Law laughing, we have achieved the last island, and you won't believe what the “One Piece” was, but that is  just a whole different story that maybe I’ll tell you about it other time. 

I was over the deck of the Polar Tang, admiring the beauty of the island that left the horizon back at us… I was thinking how many things we have been through to finally get here. Life hasn’t been easy to none of us, but surely, we made it happier, together. I wonder what our future has prepared us from now on. 

A strong wind blew my hair, and I could sense as if someone was behind me. I thought it was Law, but when I turned around, I saw a blond man, wearing a blue feather coat, a heart patterned shirt and a hat that I could recognize real fast. His image wasn’t clear, but I could see him though. “Hello, Mrs. Trafalgar, please don’t freak out. I’m sure you know who I am… I came here to thank you. Thank you for taking care of my little boy, how big he got…”. I knew he was “Cora-san”, I wasn’t scared, I knew he was the kindest person in the world. “Thank you, Mr. Rosinante, you saved Law’s life, I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done for him. He is who he is for you”. The guy with a blue mark under his right eye, and some lipstick that made his smile even bigger, nodded and said, “by the way, congrats, Rosinante could be a great name, plus it goes well with the D…”. Next, I heard Law calling me “Y/N-ya, what are you doing here all by yourself?”, I turned around and he was coming my way, with a confused expression. I looked back at where Rosinante was, but he had already disappeared. 

 Law hugged me, he was happy and placed his head on my chest. “Did I tell you how much I love to hear your heart beating?”, he asked me still with his head over my chest. “You did, darling, it won’t ever stop beating for you”. Law smiled but suddenly his face turned to a more serious one. He stopped hugging me, and asked with a worried face, “Babe, how many hearts do you have?”, “You are a cardiac surgeon, I’m sure you know how many hearts I have, Law”, I said laughing. “Yeah, because I know that people normally have one, it’s not normal that I hear two hearts beating inside of… wait…” He stopped talking, looked at me and concluded everything in no time. “Babe… are you?... Am I going to be... a father?”, he said with tears on his eyes. “Congratulations, daddy”, I said, and Law hugged me so tight, holding me up in the air crying with pure joy in his heart. We remained hugged until a little bird flew past over us and a blue feather felt over us… 

The End ♥

Thanks for reading! I’m open for requests, so if want me to, just ask ♥ 

[ashesandhalefire]

progress report: i am missing you to death

alex, michael, and a lot of unsaid things.

-

inspired by an entirely out of context teaser shot of alex and a desperate need for interaction that has yet to be satisfied by season 3 canon.

-

Deep Sky provides the coordinates and the time, so Alex shows up and waits.

While he stands in the cool night air, he scans the flat terrain that stretches out to one side and the gully where the highway sits. Other than the whizzing traffic, oblivious to his insignificance, everything is quiet.

After about twenty minutes of the vibrating stillness, Michael slinks out of the shadows with his hat tucked low over his face and leans against the back of the car beside Alex’s SUV.

Blood rushing in his ears, Alex does a second quick sweep of the lot’s perimeter. Nothing obvious has changed in the shadows since he crept through the bushes to check potential sight lines, but Alex isn’t stupid. He was in over his head when Project Shepherd turned out to be just his father’s backroom hobby. Deep Sky outclasses his expertise in a way he isn’t ready to reckon with. They could be anywhere—somewhere in the lot, somewhere down the road, somewhere miles away—and Michael has sauntered directly into their crosshairs.

He left about five feet between them when he stopped to hook one ankle over the other and stare out at the traffic, and the distance is enough for deniability. Alex tightens his hands into anxious fists and forces a long, deep breath through his nose.

“Hey,” Michael says with a casual nod of his head. They stand listening to the roar of tires chewing their ways along the desert highway, and Alex waits for a sign. He checks Michael’s chest for the red point of a laser sight just in case. Nothing happens. They stand a little longer, and then Michael leans over and asks, “You got a light?”

“No. You got a cigarette?”

The corner of Michael’s mouth twitches. It stirs up a fondness that Alex has carefully and surgically distanced himself from for the last few months, and he glances around the parking lot again. Being in love with Michael is too easy. He falls into it without needing to think about it or to try, and the laziness of trusting things to fate is probably why they’ve never gotten it right. He should probably consider himself lucky. Sinking back into those feelings now, fruitlessly, after so much time has passed, will make him sloppy in a way he can’t afford.

“You shouldn’t be here. They could see you.”

Michael tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugs, easy and unbothered. Or, almost unbothered. The muscles in his jaw are tight and tense. “You don’t even know what they do or if they’re looking for me. I haven’t exactly been hiding for the last year.”

“That doesn’t mean you should paint a bullseye on your chest.”

“But you should?”

Michael spits barbs like an old man working his way through seeded melon, careless and precise in equal measure. He always finds soft flesh.

“This isn’t a game,” Alex grits out, face growing hot with frustration. He watches a tractor trailer speed by on the road below and shoot a piece of trash out from beneath its tires.

“So tell me what it is, then,” Michael says, mouth turning down and voice suddenly going sharp as a knife’s edge, “because I didn’t really wait around to hear the rest of the story after Valenti said you were joining a cult.”

Alex looks over, and Michael’s brow is pinched to match the irritated wrinkle of his nose. Anger and tension leak off him like heat shimmers off the pavement at midday. He holds his casual posture, ankles crossed and hands tucked, but his eyes are furious.

“It’s complicated.”

Michael scoffs. “You know what, I shouldn’t bother. I should just drag your ass home, no questions.”

And now Alex’s temper flares: “Try it.”

“You think I wouldn’t? To save you?” He laughs meanly. “I’d have you over my shoulder so fucking fast—”

“I don’t need to be saved.”

“Obviously, you do.” Michael pushes off the car. The brim of his hat catches the light from the lamppost and casts half his face in shadows. “We have enough problems on our hands right now. We don’t need to poke the bear.”

“This bear poked first,” Alex says, equally furious. He checks behind Michael before hissing through his teeth, “They kidnapped Mimi. They drugged Jenna Cameron. Turnabout is fair play.”

“This isn’t turnabout! This isn’t even revenge. You’re joining their club. You are flinging yourself into a pit, Alex. A big, dark, deep pit, and when you get far enough in, none of us are going to be able to get you out. We’re gonna lose you. For good. And for no fucking reason.”

“Not for no reason,” Alex says. A tingle of shame trickles up the back of his neck. He knows he’s unprepared, going in without an exit strategy. But he can’t sit on his hands and do nothing. It makes him nervous and paranoid to be idle. “They know things.”

“Who gives a shit? Who gives one fucking iota of a shit about what they know?”

Alex frowns. “You have always wanted to know more—”

“Not like this! Not at the risk of—” Michael puts a fist to his forehead. Then he pulls off his hat and takes another step closer. His voice is softer when he speaks. “Why are you so hellbent on doing this, huh? This isn’t just your dad anymore. This is bigger than that.”

“I know.”

“They are gonna swallow you whole, and what’s the point if you’re just gone?”

Alex draws another long inhale through his nose. The weight of the thick, ugly ring on his finger feels like an anchor dragging him down. The memories of Caulfield crumbling to pieces in a cloud of fire are heavier. “If there’s even a chance that they know something, what choice do I have? I’m not getting caught off guard again. I owe you that much.”

“Bullshit,” Michael says with a jerk of his chin. “Doing it is one thing, but don’t pretend you’re doing it for me.” A pair of low-riding sports cars scream down the highway behind him, bobbing and weaving through the minimal traffic with their engines blaring. One falters behind a gas tanker and then chases its companion off towards the horizon with an roar. “If you had any interest in doing something for me, you would stay.”

Cold uncertainty creeps into Alex’s chest, and no number of layers can keep it out. He wants to ask: would I be welcome? Because he hasn’t felt like he would be in a long time. He had showed up, again and again. Sometimes, he had been wanted, and sometimes, he hadn’t been. The haze of open mic night had cleared for an instant, and the future had been visible, tangible, workable, and then, just as quickly, had vanished into the air. He had been left with Isobel’s obvious, humiliating pity, her mouth turned down as she stood to listen through the last note. That door had been closed. And yet, he wants to ask: would I be welcome? Dignity be damned.

“Are— are you asking me to stay?”

There must be something in his voice when he says it, no matter how hard he tries to control the pathetic wavering and the sunken surprise on his face, that means something to Michael. His whole body eases forward as if carried by an invisible current before he catches himself and says, “I’m done asking people for more than they’re willing to give me.”

“But you would ask? If you thought—?” Alex pushes. “You would want to ask?”

The corners of Michael’s mouth turn down and his gaze narrows almost imperceptibly, but Alex is watching for it. The more Michael closes off, the more Alex feels himself splitting open. Something bright and electric stirs in his chest.

“Because I thought you wouldn’t,” he says, waiting for the moment when Michael’s eyes widen, just slightly, just enough to understand. It comes, exactly as expected, and Michael sways closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d ask. I’m not about to beg, but I’d ask.”

He’s gotten Michael to beg before, but never for something as serious as love. On his back or on his knees or in the bed of his truck, Alex has heard him plead and bargain for things he wants in the neediest, most desperate whispers, but that had been all carnal, base pleasure, and he had known Alex wouldn’t tell him no. Here, he’s talking about a different type of submission, the kind that humiliates someone like Michael, someone who has never been given enough. Michael won’t beg, and Alex needs to be asked, and a lot of time has been wasted between them thinking that one is the same as the other.

He can’t say he’ll stay. He’s too far in to back out. And, even if he could do it, staying doesn’t mean riding off into the sunset. It means more of the same: the secrets, the conspiracies, the mysteries, the agonies, the scraping open of old wounds in last-ditch efforts to heal them. But it also means Michael, so everything else is white noise.

Michael sees it all play out on his face. He sets his hat on the roof of Alex’s car and then turns to lean against the hatchback. He sighs, and Alex can tell that more weight than usual is resting on his shoulders. It’s not just Max dragging him under. His whole body sags with it, and the sharp focus that’s been in his eyes begins to recede as he drifts away towards the call of whatever nightmare is lurking at the back of his mind.

“It’ll be okay,” Alex says because he lacks for anything else to say, and Michael  stares at his boots with a sad smile. His throat bobs as he swallows down whatever it is that’s too hard to talk about with so little time left to say it, and then he turns to look at Alex.

“Your dad was a piece of shit,” he says, like this is some sort of revelation, “and you’re you.”

The words, said like an accusation, should probably turn his stomach, but they’re also said with a reverence that pushes Alex’s heart up into his throat. Whatever is happening has rocked Michael to his core far beyond how Alex knows to help.

“Less of a piece of shit, I hope.”

Michael stares at him, flexing his hand, and then says, with a nod, “Significantly, yeah.”

“I guess that’s the best I can hope for.” Alex laughs, and then he tips his head back to look at the starless sky. “I’ll take being afraid of being like him over being proud of being like him any day. At least it means I’m going in the right direction.”

Jesse haunts Alex differently than he haunts Michael. To Michael, Jesse is another human face that did something terrible to him, just more proof that looking for another planet to run to is a good idea. Jesse is a more specific phantom for Alex, much harder to let blur into the background of the general awfulness of life. There are reminders of his father all around town: placards, photographs, the sign for the street they lived on, a six-foot statue in town square. Those can be faced much more easily than the hints of his father that Alex finds in the mirror: the deep-set wrinkles in his brows, the cut of his mouth when he frowns, the tone of his voice when he yells, the shape of his thumb. To be a little less like him every day is an exhausting but necessary struggle.

Michael smiles, and Alex, mystified, thinks maybe he managed to help after all.

“Your plan wasn’t really to drag me home over your shoulder, was it?” he asks to distract from how Michael carefully swipes a finger at the corner of one eye.

Michael huffs, and the car jostles. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just wasn’t about to let you go without—” He licks his lips and says, “I wasn’t about to let you just go.”

Alex scuffs his shoe against the loose gravel. “Couldn’t get Kyle’s hubcaps off this time?”

Guilt settles over him after he says it. Guilt and something else, something like the relief of setting down a heavy burden that’s been carried too long.

“I thought you were making a mistake back then, too.” Michael takes the comment in stride, accepts it, and reaches out to touch the ring on Alex’s hand. He pinches it carefully, Alex’s fingers curled into the heat of his palm, and rolls his thumb until the ring twists to expose the thinner underside of the band. He strokes, skin then metal then skin, over and over. “Flinging yourself into some dark pit that you’d never come out of again.”

Alex wants to tell him that this is different. He can’t.

“Do me a favor, okay?”

Hand slipping up over Alex’s wrist and into the soft corner of his elbow, Michael crosses the final inches of space between them and pulls Alex close. In the dim light of the parking lot, they might be mistaken for the sort of strangers who meet in shadowy corners for quick exchanges of misery with rough words and rougher touch. But then Michael, trembling, touches the lapel of Alex’s jacket and presses a long kiss to his cheek.

He keeps his mouth there, breath hot and soft, and, before he gathers himself enough to continue, Alex says, “I’ll come back.”

Michael laughs, but it sounds like a gasp for air. “Not even gonna let me ask?”

Alex hums. “I’ll come back.”

“Yeah, you’ll come back,” Michael warns, “or I’ll come get you. And it won’t be fucking subtle.”

It sends a shiver down his spine to think of Michael storming a place as infinitely large as Deep Sky feels. If it comes to that, he’d be better off left behind. But as the thought comes, Michael’s grip shifts and the tentative press of their sides becomes a full-bodied hug that envelopes him like a warm breeze. His nose turns into the side of Michael’s neck: rain, crisp and fresh; gasoline, but faint; smoke, from his fire pit.

“I’m not really going anywhere. It’ll be fine.”

Michael squeezes, and Alex squeezes back. Everything else he wants to say is too big for this moment. And, selfishly, he wants to know that Michael will wait to hear it. He scolds himself for the thought, because they’ve each done their share of waiting miserably at the wayside, but then he lets it stand. Michael squeezes again, fingertips digging into separate points as he clings.

Alex cups a hand to the back of his head and touches his curls. He thinks about what it would mean to kiss Michael now, to kiss someone that he loves, who loves him, and imagines a tower of precariously stacked dominoes. Michael laughs wetly, and Alex lets go first, fingers lingering reluctantly.

[fallasleepscenarios]

𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓸𝓶 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓽 [bakugo x reader]

type: one shot, angst, fluff pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader (gender not specified) summary: (Y/N) and Bakugo have not established their relationship, leaving (Y/N) to question their whole "friends with benefits" thing. And it all goes down to what happens when they attend Kirishima's party. rating: R for implication of sexual act word count: 2.4k disclaimer: I do not own any of the mha characters and all of them are written as if they are of age also posted on my wattpad one shots book

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

"You're so silly. Get your butt here."

Bakugo shrugs and pouts angrily but eventually lets his body fall on me and weighing me down on the couch as I try to lift him off me. I laugh at his silliness, knowing that this is the best way someone like him can show affection. He lets his guard down so rarely after all, doesn't even want to show softness, ever. Only with me he does. He can be mellow, can't express it in words easily though.

"Tsk, I don't want to go to the stupid party with all the stupid bastards", he growls while finally making himself comfortable without hurting me.

"You promised! Besides, everyone's waiting for you", I run my fingers through his hair, "You know how much Kirishima has been waiting to see you!" I could tell by his look at this was somehow enough for him to accept attending the party with me. All his UA classmates would be there.

"Whatever! I have to train." In a swift move he gets up and leaves the room, like he always does.

"Bakugo--! Wait!" he stops without turning to look at me. "D-Do you wanna spend the night?" I gulped.

"I have to train", he says and leaves.

And at times like these, I ask myself, what the hell am I really doing. Having a crush on Bakugo Katsuki? That's far enough. Establishing a relationship with him? That's so far beyond the line of sanity. More times than not, I question myself for any signs of emotional masochism, because this really doesn't feel like a mutual feeling. Yes, he can be soft and sweet, would never admit it, though. Yes, somehow, he does like me in a sexual way, at least, or maybe considers me as a way to relieve stress? The past three months and a half have been so exciting, and I've been.. happy. But..

This really isn't enough for me. If only I could do anything to make him say what's in his mind, 'cause his actions really really don't match with his words. And then again, well, whatever, never mind, it could all be way worse for me..

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

On the day of the party, Bakugo was supposed to pick me up at 8 and head over to Kirishima's together, since I've never been to his place before. I put extra effort on picking an outfit I like and felt pretty cute and confident in it. At 7:45 I was already by the door, tying my shoes and receiving a text message by Uraraka-chan.

[19:45] From: Uraraka-chan<3 I can't wait for tonight! Deku-kun will also be there, haven't seen him in two weeks! Don't be late Y/N :D

I smiled at myself and happiness overflew in me. Don't want to jinx it but tonight sounds ideal; Bakugo agreed to come, I'm going to see everyone, even Midoriya found time off his strict training schedule, and Uraraka-chan is very happy, as well, I am glad.

But as I waited for Bakugo, the clock turned 8. And then 5 minutes after 8. And then a quarter past 8.

Normally, that's acceptable, since when one is late, they probably have informed you beforehand. Or at least, an apology is waiting for you at their arrival. Oh, but when Bakugo arrived..

"What took you so long?!!" My mood, the outfit I wore that I liked, the excitement, all had disappeared.

"SO WHAT, I had training to do! Deku has been training all week!", he snapped back at me and frowned. "Let's go damn it!"

"You're unbelievable-! That's how you treat me?!" This time, I was not going to take it.

"Tsk, you don't understand"

"At least you could have told me you were at practice..! Not arrive, what, a quarter to 9 and not even apologizing for keeping me waiting?!"

"YOU attacked me right when I arrived, when I would I apologize?!"

I refrained from saying anything else. I didn't want to completely ruin my mood for the party.

"Okay, stop." I let out a sigh. "Let's go. I really want to enjoy the party. I even wore that outfit that it took me so long to come up with, I really wanna enjoy it.." I closed and locked the door behind us and Bakugo just stared at me.

The road to Kirishima's was quiet. I caught a few glimpses of Bakugo walking by me and leading the way. Surprisingly, he didn't say anything at all. We passed by the river, it was beautiful and I so wanted to comment on the cherry blossoms showing as the path alongside it.

I tried not to overthink about this but it was bothering me, that Bakugo didn't even consider my feelings. He stood me up. This definitely isn't what you expect of your partner to do. Details like this, how he never calls me just to talk to me, he never texts me "good morning" or "good night" like my friends' significant others do, how we've never really agreed to have a proper date but always meet up at home, eat inside and are secretive, I don't like that. I think I am the only one in this relationship.

Heck, there is no real relationship. Friends with benefits, after all.

"(Y/N)! Bakugo-kun! You've arrived at last!" Uraraka-chan was the first one to greet us by the door.

"I'm sorry we're late, I asked Bakugo to pick me up since he lives so close-by, but he was training and couldn't leave early", I felt my cheeks flush up. Everyone's attention was on us and I didn't like it. "Besides, Kirishima-kun! Thanks for having us!"

Thankfully, I quickly felt comfortable and no one talked about how they've been waiting for us. We had a fun time, joking around, eating cakes that Sato baked and listening to what everyone's been up to on their vacation. I was able to forget about Bakugo's attitude, but every time I looked at him, it all came back to me, so I tried to avoid him as much. But still, I was able to catch glimpses of him, noticing that he never looked at me too. I am better than this.

I got up to pout myself some water and when I came back I noticed that Deku had joined Uraraka and they were cheerfully engaging in conversation by themselves, so I decided I wouldn't go back to Uraraka and third wheel them. Instead I decided to get some fresh air and went outside. The cold wind felt so nice on my face but I could tell I'd soon be cold enough to return inside.

"Y/N!", I didn't even hear Kirishima opening the balcony's door.

"Kirishima-kun, are you having fun?"

"For sure! I'm glad you could bring Bakugo with you. Wasn't really sure he'd come, since he's been eager to train as much as he can during the vacation time, but maybe having to accompany you made him responsible to come" Kirishima smiled and he'd never looked so innocent to me before.

"Ah, I just guess he came for you Kirishima-kun. You're his best friend after all."

We laughed and I suddenly felt really soft and comfortable talking about Bakugo with him.

"Kirishima-kun, you're great.. I wish I had a relationship with someone like you!"

And then I realized what I just said. Kirishima turned red and I no longer felt cold outside.

"Y/N, I-I don't think I like you like t-that.."

"Ah! No, it's okay, I don't think I do either.."

What am I saying, I know I like Bakugo.

I know he said he didn't like me but the vibe sure felt weird and tense and somehow comfortable. I could so simply say things like these with Kirishima and it did feel awkward but it was okay, we could sit in silence. And it was easier to stay outside now.

But then he called out my name, and I couldn't read his face. He surely thought that I might like him now. I noticed Bakugo was arguing with Iida-kun by the door, when Kirishima raised his hand to cup my cheek and-

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Why am I not pulling back? Maybe he wants to find out if he'd feel something.. maybe I do as well. Bakugo wouldn't even care anyways. He wouldn't be the least jealous if he saw us.

"Yes", I whispered back and closed my eyes only to feel his soft lips on mine.

It lasted a few seconds but I knew for sure that this wasn't what I felt when I kissed Bakugo. Kirishima was now smiling softly as me and I knew we were on the same page. And this will be between us and nothing will be affected. Except that something caught his attention and he gasped ; I turned to see who else other than Bakugo staring at us.

He looked mad, but doesn't he almost always?

Suddenly I felt overwhelmed with regret towards him.

He wasn't supposed to get jealous, he has no right to!

"Ah, Bakugo saw us maybe", Kirishima shrugged, "He probably thinks we're stupid hahah"

I chuckled, not to make my uncomfortableness look so obvious and we headed back inside, since Bakugo had also disappeared from the entrance.

The rest of the night I felt so out of place and it was hard not to show, but I had to. Spent it mostly chatting with the girls and playing cards and board games.

But soon enough, it was time to go.

Midoriya had already left and so had some of the others that aren't late nighters, and I felt tired from all the tension of the day. I was glad that I had some fun though.

"I'm off, everyone!" I greeted them and put on my shoes and coat.

"I'm going to. Have to train early tomorrow"

I froze. Bakugo was also leaving and this could only mean he wanted to confront me.

I waited for him to be greeted by everyone as well. It was inevitable, we'd go the same way anyways.

But Bakugo didn't say anything. He started pacing fast and it was kind of hard to keep up.

When we reached the cherry blossoms, Bakugo stopped.

"Are you stupid? Why did you do that?!"

He was indeed jealous!

"What does it matter to you even!". Tears were forming in my eyes, I felt so guilty! But it wasn't entirely my fault!

"TO ME? That you're stupid?"

"What does it matter to you??! It didn't even matter to me!"

"Then WHY DID YOU DO THAT"

Bakugo turned around but he wasn't looking at me.

"..I.. don't know... I was curious.. "

"Tsk, 'curious', what even..!"

"I was, okay?! Kirishima was being so nice to me..."

"And you had to be stupid?!"

"STOP it! Okay? This, this is why I did that. Because I can no longer pretend that you care about me! You made that clear today!"

"I don't go around doing things a scumbag would do!"

Bakugo was starting to redden up, he had become really angry..

"BUT YOU DO!" I shouted, glad that we were the only ones on the street. "You do, when you're late and don't inform me, you do when you're embarrassed and secretive of me, you do when you never really tell me what's on your mind"

"You.." he frowned. "And YOU GO AND DO THAT"

"YES because MAYBE, MAYBE HE would actually LIKE me!"

He seemed to be taken aback. And I was properly crying. And I felt the cold wind against my face and hands. It was too bad we're ruining the effect of the beautiful cherry blossoms.

"Stupid.. STUPID STUPID STUPID", he was now pulling his hair in anger.

"Bakugo, stop! What are you doing!" I rushed out and grabbed him by his shoulders forcing him to look at me. And I felt guilty and sad to see him this angry but this had to mean something.

He looked away, avoiding my gaze at all costs.

"I should be asking you why are you being like this now..", I said softly. "It.. hurts to think about this, but did it feel like you were losing towards Kirishima?"

No answer.

"I'm sorry anyways, I am too tired to argue anymore and I'm sorry I kissed him. I.. didn't think it'd make you angry"

"Tsk, what are you apologizing for, loser.."

Bakugo's voice was soft and quiet..!

"I should be the one saying sorry. I FAILED don't you understand? I didn't make my feelings clear to you"

What?

"All this time, I've been failing to this, I don't no a thing about romance"

What?

"And you never even said anything, either! You just went along when I first kissed you!"

I had nothing to say. Suddenly, everything seemed so meaningless, because he was opening up to me.

"Bakugo.."

"No, shut up, you listen to me now. It drives me crazy cause I can't concentrate and think about you all the time! I LIKE YOUR STUPID ASS"

This can't be for real. I've always wanted him to open up but I never..

"SAY SOMETHING"

"Can you.. say that again?", I was too startled.

"Weren't you listening?!"

"No, I was, it's just that I liked hearing you say that.."

I'd forgotten I'd been holding him weirdly and suddenly felt conscious about being so close to him, when I've been closer to him so many times before, but not like this.

"Tsk, I like you stupid ass, stupid", he frowned jokingly and it was his turn to wrap his arms around me. "I like your stupid stupid ass."

My cheeks have probably never flushed as this much before.

"I like you"

He kept repeating and I felt like I could faint.

"And I promise, I won't ignore my feelings anymore and I won't be USELESS!"

I backed away to look at him.

"Bakugo,.. does this mean, we're really together?"

And Bakugo blushed!

"Yeh" he simply said.

I couldn't help but smile and the cherry blossoms were beautiful around us.

Then, Bakugo tightened his grip on my waist and brought me closer. He kissed my cheek and looked at me again. And I couldn't decide over staring at his eyes or kissing him that moment.

But I couldn't bring myself to stop, I leaned forwards and felt his soft pouty lips against mine, his warmth transmitting to my skin. And we didn't pull back for a few moments.

"Do you want to stay over, Bakugo?"

And he nodded excitedly as we walked home together.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

[reveniemus]

8 or 21 or 31 for the hug prompts. love your new look 😉💖

thank you!! i am obsessed with this photoshoot 😭😭 also i hope you enjoy some angst i guess?? bc i write that now???

geraskier in angst major, no. 1

pairing: gen with lite!geraskier rating: teen warnings: implied torture, mild descriptions of injuries jaskier is not having a good time

on ao3

Never say never, his mother had always said, and yet, Jaskier had foolishly done just that. He thought he was never going to feel anything worse than the heartache of what happened on the mountain, and yet, this moment was a very strong contender. It was such an obvious thing too, and Jaskier knew if Geralt had been there, he would’ve tutted at him for being so oblivious to the fact that the men giving him the eye were not, in fact, looking for a one night tumble.

Then again, if Geralt had been there, Jaskier wouldn’t have been flouncing about in a crowded tavern in plain view of some Nilfgaardian soldiers out of uniform. He would’ve been curled up in a bedroll on the forest floor, eating rabbit or deer and scribbling in his notebook while Geralt sharpened his swords.

“Bard’s tougher than he looks, huh?” he hears one of the guards say after he’s taken yet another beating. “That’s the third one today and he’s still conscious, somehow.”

“Barely. I bet if he got another one today, he’d tell us everything,” his companion says, and Jaskier’s body involuntarily winces at the thought of another beating so soon to his last one.

“Think the captain will let us? It’s not like we’re getting anywhere with the other prisoners,” the first one says, and he must lean against the bars because the scraping sound of metal against metal rings in Jaskier’s ears.

“Most likely. We haven’t tried branding yet,” the second voice answers, the gleeful tone to his voice making Jaskier’s stomach curl. Thankfully, it sounds like they’re finally, finally walking away and Jaskier lets himself relax when the sounds of their conversation dissipate.

He takes a deep breath and even that small, miniscule amount of movement makes his body ache. Jaskier tries to remember the things Geralt used to say about managing pain. The first step was to take inventory of his body to figure out what was wrong. It’s hard to do on his side, so Jaskier shifts, his face scrunching up as he lays on his back. It isn’t comfortable and the movement makes his bones feel like they’re on fire. How is it possible to feel this much pain and survive?

Okay, he can do this. He can take inventory of his body, just like Geralt used to.

Deep breath.

Something aches on his calf, near his ankle. Twisting it shoots pain up his leg, and Jasker bites down on his bottom lip to stop from making a noise. He can’t let the soldiers know he’s conscious enough to make noise.

Deep breath.

There’s a cut on his right upper thigh. He doesn’t know when he acquired it. This last beating? The one before? It’s not actively bleeding anymore, which is good. He thinks it means they didn’t hit anything major.

Deep breath.

A stabbing pain shoots up his left arm. Fuck. He hopes it’s not a break, because the implications of it makes his heart ache. Then again, he doesn’t know when he’ll see his lute again, so maybe it doesn’t really matter.

Deep breath.

His abdomen feels heavy. Is this what internal bleeding feels like? He should’ve asked Geralt how to know if you’re bleeding internally. Jaskier thinks he’d be colder if he were bleeding internally, or number.

Deep breath.

Jaskier’s head is pounding — not enough to distract from the rest of his pain, but just enough that his thoughts are verging on disjointed. Geralt would yell at him for not being able to focus.

Deep breath.

That definitely means there’s a head injury though. Jaskier remembers when Geralt had fought two fiends and they’d knocked him around. He had insisted that Jaskier not let him sleep, that it would make a head injury worse. Jaskier isn’t sure what worse means when the main part of your body that keeps things running is already hurt, but he thinks it means he shouldn’t sleep.

Deep breath.

If he’s asleep, though, he won’t feel the pain of his injuries. Jaskier closes his eyes, knowing Geralt would hit him for genuinely contemplating falling asleep while he’s got a definitive head injury.

Deep — Jaskier is jolted out of his breathing routine by a loud clanging noise, followed by thumps and screams and the sound of running. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, grimacing with the motion, to peer past the bars of his cell.

He should move back, maybe hide in the shadows and hope that whoever is attacking the prison will leave him alone. If he can have time to heal, he can get out of here and find … who? Geralt made it very clear he didn’t want Jaskier around, and it wasn’t like Jaskier could go around and find his old acquaintances. Anyone who was associated with him could be in danger because of his association with the White Wolf.

Maybe he could turn this prison into his home after whoever is out there finishes off the Nilfgaardians. Jaskier lays back down, closing his eyes and taking deep, slow breaths as the noises of fighting seem to get closer. If he lies here, maybe they’ll think this cell is empty of viable prisoners and they’ll keep going.

“Fuck,” he hears a voice grunt before the door to his cell opens. The voice seems familiar, but Jaskier can feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness and his already-vaguely-disjointed thoughts connect even less and less. “Please don’t be dead,” the voice says, and Jaskier vaguely feels a warm body next to him. The immediacy of the movement makes him flinch, and he hears another curse from the voice.

Familiarity blooms inside him, and he winces. His mind is playing tricks on him, it seems, maybe the Nilfgaardians decided an illusion would be more useful than a branding. Jaskier tries to curl into himself, but the pain that courses through him makes him scream.

“Jaskier, please, don’t move,” the voice whispers, gruff and gentle, and Jaskier whimpers as a hand brushes back his hair.

“Please, I don’t know anything, I swear,” he pleads, fighting back tears.

“It’s okay, Jask, you’re safe,” the voice murmurs, and Jaskier whines. The illusion feels so real it makes his heart ache, reminds him of the moments he clung to when Geralt’s fingers would barely brush over his skin when they were making camp, or when Jaskier made a stupid decision that got him hurt.

Suddenly, Jaskier is being tugged up, and he’s shocked into looking up. His eyes widen when he sees a shock of long white hair and amber eyes, a soft whisper escaping his lips.

“Yes, it’s me. We have to keep moving,” Geralt says, and Jaskier feels arms on his waist as he somehow gets on his feet. “Can you stand?” he asks, his eyes glittering with concern in a way that makes Jaskier’s head spin.

“You’re here,” he whispers, leaning back a little as Geralt’s hand moves from his waist. It’s not far, he can feel the heat of it against the ragged remains of his chemise, and Jaskier feels more light headed than he has in weeks.

“Careful,” the witcher murmurs, catching Jaskier’s arm as he sways on the spot. “I’ve got you, Julek.” His arm wraps around Jaskier’s waist and he brings him closer.

Jaskier inhales Geralt’s scent, a mix of leather and horse that’s difficult to duplicate, much less recreate in an illusion, and ignoring the sharp ache in his lungs at the movement. He’s probably got a broken rib, he realizes, as he involuntarily leans into Geralt more. “You’re here,” he repeats, his eyes fluttering.

“I am, but don’t fall asleep on me yet. You’ve got a nasty head wound,” Geralt says, his voice gruff and stern and the familiar tendrils of it makes Jaskier’s heart warm.

“Y’know, even if this was a dream, it’s a nice dream. I hoped this would be my last,” Jaskier whispers, like it’s a secret, as he leans into Geralt, wrapping an arm around the witcher’s waist. He has no balance, so he feels the sway of his body as he tries to recalibrate his center of gravity.

“It’s not a dream, and it sure as hell won’t be your last one.” Geralt’s response is angry, almost aggressive, and Jaskier thinks maybe he’s far too out of it to be affected by that. “Yen’s outside with a portal waiting for me to get you out of here,” he continues, tightening his grip around Jaskier’s waist and moving out of the cell.

Jaskier makes a soft noise, burying his face in Geralt’s neck as the witcher half-carries him out of the keep. “You came for me,” he mumbles, voice slurring as darkness starts to take a hold of his consciousness.

“I always will,” Geralt whispers. Or maybe it’s just a part of Jaskier’s dream. “You’re not dreaming, Jaskier, and I need you to stay awake.”

Did he say that aloud? Oh. Did that mean he was definitely dreaming or definitely not? Jaskier is about to say something else, he thinks, but putting words together has become very difficult. What a useless wordsmith he is, isn’t he? Not able to put words together! What a sorry excuse of a bard.

“What’s he babbling about?” a sultry feminine voice asks, and Jaskier’s body jerks, the pain shooting from his possibly-twisted ankle as he tries to run off. “Bard, what are you doing? Has he been doing this the whole time?”

“Hm,” Geralt grunts, shifting to hoist Jaskier towards the shimmering portal that’s just outside of his fuzzy eyeline.

“Why didn’t you Axii him like one of your horses?” Yennefer asks, her voice coming closer as Jaskier’s arm lifts and loops over someone’s neck. A lilac and gooseberries someone.

Geralt lets out a grunt that, if he were in the right state of mind, Jaskier would be able to translate, but for now, he knows there’s an underlying layer of softness to it that he wants to hold close to his heart.

“Oh, you stupid witcher,” Yennefer mumbles before Jaskier feels chaos surrounding him. It’s the last thing he consciously notes for himself before his vision goes black and his mind goes empty.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Hi! :D I saw that request are open, soo can you do a reader x levi where reader and reiner were a couple, but she found out about him being the armor titan and now she is a mess and levi is making her forget about reiner or something like that, pretty please? 🥺

Oooo I like it :)

Summary: Reader is heartbroken with the revelation of the identities of the Armored and Colossal titans. 

Word Count: 1.8K

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You sat numbly at the dining room table. It had been one day since Reiner and Bertolt revealed their secret. You and the others were still in shock, denial even for some of you. Connie sat to your left, his face in his hands, shoulders slumped. Levi and Hange had left you and the others alone to update the commander on the current situation. It felt wrong, to be without the blonde, someone who had slipped into your heart and become a constant in your life effortlessly. Someone you trusted implicitly with all your heart, he had been more than a comrade to you. More than a friend even, the two of you shared countless nights under the stars during your cadet days, talking about anything and everything. But now you wandered if it was all an act, an elaborate scheme to blend into the ranks, seem human. Because no human being could slip between roles the way that they had. But he had felt human when you kissed him, held him, talked to him. 

“Your turn to be on duty.” Sasha said, coming into the small space, shotgun slung over her shoulder. Mikasa held an armful of kindling, which she set near the stove before turning to retreat into the back room where Eren was resting. 

“Okay Sash.” Connie said, his tone deflated and dull. Sasha handed you the shotgun and Connie shrugged a cloak on, pulling the hood over his head as the two of you walked out into the night. You stood on the makeshift towers that had been constructed, looking up at the same stars that you’d gazed at with Reiner ages ago. It was all so fresh, the sting of the steam hitting your face as they transformed, the clap of thunder. The way he had begun throwing titans left and right with no regard for his former comrades, for you. All of you had nearly died in the fiasco, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. No you were just plain hurt. Connie perked up beside you, pushing his hood down when the sound of hooves thundering down the deserted path became clear. 

“They’re back.” Connie stated the obvious as he climbed down the tower, you followed him. Once the superiors arrived you took the reins of their horses and rushed to put them away, eager to hear your next orders. With the horses fed and watered you both ran back into the cabin. You hung the rifle by the door and Connie threw his cloak onto one of the coat hooks. The others had already gathered at the table, Historia sat at the head of the table, a humble meal was prepared and placed on the table, soup and stale bread as always. You listened as Historia told you her story, of her true identity and what that meant for all of you. Levi and Hange informed you that the government was fed up with the scouts and planned to punish Erwin Smith. Everything was falling apart, the little family that you had found was about to come crumbling down once more. As soon as Levi gave the order for all of you to go to bed, the cadets fled to the two rooms, one for the girls the other for the boys. Hange left once more, something about checking up on the pastor and keeping Erwin company. You were doing dishes with Armin who was drying them with shaky hands. 

“Go to bed, I can finish this.” You assured him, wanting to be alone and do a mindless task to help you dissociate. 

“I couldn’t-” 

“I need this Armin, just go to sleep.” You came across a bit hostile but at the moment you couldn’t care less. He frowned but set the towel aside and retreated with slumped shoulders. Levi cleared his throat from behind you as he came back into the kitchen. You didn’t even spare him a glance as he reached into the cupboard for the tea leaves, he filled the tea pot with water and began to boil the water. As he waited he sat at the kitchen table in silence. 

“Finish those and head to bed.” His cold voice made you jump a bit, due to the randomness of his order. 

“Yes sir.” You answered as you scrubbed at the ancient dishes. Your hands were sore, they had been burned during your assault on Bertolt. The bandages were wet now, the salve Hange had applied earlier in the day had long since dried up. As you finished the last dish you turned and dried your hands off, a involuntary hiss escaping your lips as you applied too much pressure to your wounds. 

“What’s wrong cadet?” Levi asked as he poured hot water over the bitter leaves. 

“It’s nothing, just burned my hands yesterday...” You answered as you pulled at the bandages. 

“Hm I see.” Levi mused as he reached into the cupboard once more, you watched him carefully, waiting for him to tell you to get lost. But instead he produced another cup, pouring tea into it and walked over towards the door. You watched, confused when he paused before the door. 

“Bring the roll of bandages and that salve Hange had earlier. They’re in that bag over there.” He said with a vague nod in the direction of the humble living room. You found the bandages and salve, you carried them out into the cool summer evening, the sound of cicadas and tree frogs felt familiar and comforting. You found him on the porch on one of the rickety old chairs. The cups were steaming as they sat on a small round table, he watched you with a dull expression as you sat in the other chair and placed the bandages and salve on the table. 

“Let me see them.” He sighed, holding his hands out, his own palms were littered with callouses and old scars. You timidly obeyed, placing the backs of your hands in his palms. He inspected the bandages for a moment before he began to unwrap them. You watched as he uncovered your wrecked palms, the flesh red and blistered from doing the dishes and other chores all day long. 

“You should have said something.” Levi scolded as he unscrewed the lid of the salve and dipped a finger into the cool substance. 

“It wouldn’t have been fair. We’re all injured.” You pointed out as he began to smear the salve onto your left palm. 

“You’re no good to me if your hands get infected and need to be amputated.” He shot back, his dark eyes focused on the task at hand, you frowned but said nothing. 

“I suppose.” You said after a moment, your eyes taking the opportunity to study his features as he worked, the soft curve of his nose, prominent cheek bones and delicate brows. He was undeniably handsome, you had known this obviously, the women of the walls always threw themselves at his feet. 

“Tomorrow you will do look out rotations instead of cleaning or getting wood. Your hands need to heal.” He stated as he wrapped your left palm back up in fresh bandages. The burning had subsided with the aid of the salve, now he turned his attention to your other hand. 

“Yes sir.” You answered obediently as you watched him unwrap the bandages once more. 

“How is your knee?” You attempted to make conversation, eyes traveling to inspect the injured knee. He paused and looked up at you, his eyes weren’t as hard as they’d been moments ago, the sudden softness caught you off guard. 

“Better.” He answered with a clipped tone as he held your hand tenderly. His thumb rubbed the space over the inside of your wrist and your brows raised in shock. 

“You were close with them?” His words and actions alike caught you off guard, you blinked dumbly at him as he waited for an answer. 

“I was....” You said, his grip on your wrist tightened then eased up almost instantly. 

“It’s a shame. They were good soldiers.” He said nonchalantly as he ran his salve covered fingers over your torn skin. 

“Yes.” was all you could manage as he began to wrap your wounds. When he finished he sat back, crossing his legs, one ankle resting on his opposite knee. He reached for his cup and took a sip of the bitter tea, eyes wandering to scan the forest. Not knowing what else to do, you grabbed your own cup with your freshly wrapped hands and took a sip of the calming liquid. 

“Where are you from cadet?” Levi asked, once more shocking you. 

“A small village in wall Maria.” you answered, the memory of your cozy home and the unfortunate end that it met coming to your mind. 

“Hm, that why you joined the scouts?” He mused, eyes still not on you. 

“Yes, mainly.” 

“Mainly?” He looked at you now, eyes curious. 

“I wanted to fight alongside my brother.” You answered, remembering how he had been killed by the female titan during the 57th. 

“Ah I remember him now.” Levi said, his tone soft and understanding. 

“Good soldier, he would be....proud of you I’m sure.” You looked at him with wide eyes, he was being so kind. Did he put something in his tea? 

“I can only hope...” You said, taking another sip of the tea, hoping now that there was alcohol in it to calm your nerves and help make sense of this weird situation. 

“We must remember our fallen, that’s what I fight for, their memory.” Levi said, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart skip a beat. He had lost people too in that expedition, their deaths were the only reason that you’d been assigned to his squad. 

“Yeah..” you said lamely as you tried to make sense of where all of this was coming from. 

“Sir?” You started, unsure of if the next words you were going to speak would be appropriate or not. 

“Hm what is it?” He asked over the rim of his cup. 

“C-Could you...tell me a story or something? I can’t stop thinking about-” 

“What do I look like? Your mother?” He snorted, setting his cup down, you blushed profusely, instantly regret flooding your chest. 

“No forget about it, it’s stupid” You said, shaking your head and standing quickly. Levi leaned forward and caught your wrist. 

“Sit.” You dropped back into your seat without a second thought. 

“I guess...I could tell you about the time-” He trailed off, a thoughtful expression replacing his dull one. You found yourself admiring the rare expression fondly. 

“The time that I had to knock Hange unconscious to bathe her, filthy animal.” Levi scoffed and leaned back into his seat when he saw that you were no longer trying to get away. 

“That sounds perfect.” You sighed and sat back as well, ready to hear about the antics that Hange and Levi went through to get your mind off of the betrayal. 

“She got into some mud after a mission, wouldn’t bathe. Said there was too much work to do-” You closed your eyes, letting the baritone voice wash over your senses and sweep any other thoughts out of your mind. That night you fell asleep to Levi’s voice for the first time and the melody of cicadas and tree frogs. 

__

Kinda got carried away with this one. Honestly feels a bit cheesy but I kinda like it.