#I tried to make them the same shade of blue but failed

[lixie-phoria]

bff!stray kids and the little things they do when they have a crush on you

pairing : stray kids x reader | genre : fluff | warnings : none

🧿 ┆ CHAN - he stalks your pinterest saves to see your latest interests

He doesn't do it in a creepy way, i promise. he just likes to go through your latest pins and find out what you're into and surprise you without you even having to tell him!! He spoils you so much :(( You recently saved a really cute fit inspo? He's going to order it for you. Saw you saving pins of pretty bouquets? You'll find the very same one in his hands as he picks you up from work. This man is such a sweetheart you're so lucky.

🧿┆ LEE KNOW - purposely forget his hoodies and tshirts at your place so you can wear them

Is it really an accident that he forgot his hoodie at your house for the fifteenth time even after you reminded him multiple times? Of course! Or at least that's what minho insists. He's never going to tell you that he intentionally forgets them at your place because it gives you an excuse to wear it. he will never tell you how delusional he is and how much it plays into his fantasies of you dating him when he sees you in his clothes. He's such a simp lmao please.

🧿 ┆ CHANGBIN - will buy anything that reminds him of you

He misses you so much on tour and can't stop thinking about you :(( even the smallest objects remind him of you. He goes to a beach in Australia and sees a shell whose colors match those of a really pretty dress you have? He's going to take it without a second thought, somehow managing to make a hole in it and looping an expensive chain through it because the shell may be simple but he loves spoiling you rotten with expensive gifts too. He sees a potted plant in some foreign country that looks somewhat like the one you have at your place? Of course he's going to buy it. Please don't ask him how he plans on getting it through airport security. He's too busy thinking about you to worry about all that!!

🧿 ┆ HYUNJIN - he lets only you paint his nails and do his make up!!

He's going to be sooo whiny as you drag him into the cosmetics store at the mall but anyone can see the stars in his eyes as he looks at your excited smile. The second you're in he's going to be all over the place, picking out items he thinks would go well with your features. And if you want to try out any of the products, he's offering himself before you can even pick the samples. Loves to have you paint his nails, try a new shade of lip gloss on his skin or the texture of a new blush. he will do anything for you. he does not care about the looks he gets as he proudly walks around with all 10 finger nails painted in mismatched colours.

🧿 ┆ HAN - He always let's you have the first bite of food

lover boy is so whipped i cannot stress enough. whenever you guys go on dates hang out, he purposely orders a starter he knows you like and insists you have the first bite. always. if you accompany him on set he remembers to carry snacks so he can share them with you and fights any member who tries to take some hahaha

🧿 ┆ FELIX - always takes your input when getting ready for a comeback

you see all those funky hair colors felix sports every comeback and pulls them off every single time? yeah thats all you. never once has he failed to ask you what colors you'd like to see him in. and he won't listen to you complain about how it might potentially damage his hair. you want to see him in blue? he's already texting his hair stylist l. you've been into purple lately? he's already discussing the different shades with you. it's so sweet and he loves it when he can finally show you the new look.

🧿 ┆ SEUNGMIN - "accidentally" takes your stuff so it gives him an excuse to drop it off at your place and see you

seungmin being upfront about his crush on you? of course not. he's such a baby lmao will never have the courage to tell you but he also doesn't know how to explain why he always wants to be around you. so he comes up with a (supposedly) fool proof plan!! he takes your stuff whenever you guys hang out so it gives him an excuse to come over and give it you later on. if you're ever missing a clutch clip or your lip gloss best believe he has it. and watch him laugh it off as an accident. he gets so embarrassed when the other 7 see right through him hahaha but he'd rather be teased because its worth seeing you

🧿 ┆ JEONGIN - aggressively confesses his love for you

he's so adorable. he isn't really sure how to navigate your relationship because its all so new to him but he also wants you to know that he genuinely likes you. so he sticks to saying i-love-you's at the most random times and so aggressively it nearly scared you the first time. so many of his good morning texts read along the lines of good morning i hope you're up or i will splash water down your pretty face. don't forget breakfast because it's important for you. if you forget it, i will fight you. i love you 😠😠😠😠 but once you catch on it's obviously got you giggling and blushing because it's such a jeongin thing to do and honestly how could you not fall for him when he's just awkwardly trying to confess how much he's in love with you

tags : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

©lixie-phoria, 2023

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They Are the Rival Boss Who Likes You (pt. 2)

Summary: You were in an abusive relationship with your ex-boyfriend who was also in a gang. At a benefit, you run into M/N, your boyfriend's rival, whose mind has been on you since he met you. He helps you escape and takes you to the safety of his apartment.

Warnings: mentions of abusive relationship, but mostly trauma recovery

PART 1

A/N: Without a doubt, the softest thing I have ever written. All of the members' Y/Ns are different though. They have different degrees of trauma and different ways of dealing with it.

I planned to post this days ago but I just couldn't do Jimin and Taehyung's part. I don't know why but I always struggle writing them the most, especially Taehyung ... His character gives me shivers, honestly, in the best way.

Let me know if I should do a part 3.

***

Jin

Although Jin asked if you were hungry, you did not have an appetite in the least. You asked to take a shower however, and Jin lent you some of his clothes to change into. You put on his sweatpants that you needed to roll up at the bottom and a knitted, white cashmere sweater softer than anything you had ever felt before in your life.

The rain only grew stronger outside when you returned to the living area finding Jin by the window, his hands stuck in the pockets of his trousers. He was in deep thought before he noticed you were back.

"How are you feeling?" asked Jin.

"Better," you nodded. The hot shower helped you calm down some although it also made you exponentially more tired.

"How are you?" you asked Jin in turn. He looked at you.

"Good," Jin nodded softly, a small smile on his lips. He could see the tiredness in your eyes and the yawns that you desperately tried to suppress but failed.

"You should try and get some rest," said Jin reassuringly and showed you to the guest bedroom.

Once you you wished Jin goodnight, you climbed into the bed eagerly and pulled the covers over you. The walls of the room were a shade of grey so pale it was almost blue, with a white ceiling and a matching carpet. The bed had an ornate white frame in the same style as the vanity table and the closets along the wall. You only managed to look yourself in the mirror for a moment when brushing your teeth, feeling almost disgusted with yourself. You could not believe you asked Jin for help and asked him to expose himself. It was a moment of desperation, you knew, but it did not make you feel anything better - or helped you fall asleep any faster.

It was only towards dawn that exhaustion took you and you managed to get a couple of hours of good sleep, but for most of the night, your mind could produce nothing but nightmares. You dreamed of Kang, of your family, and even of Jin. Yet even though you did not sleep much, you still felt better when you rolled out of bed in mid-morning.

You could hear the movement in the kitchen when you opened the door of the guest bedroom. You did not know why but you tiptoed down the hallway, slowly peeking into the kitchen. Jin was at the counter cutting up some fruit, a pot of French press getting ready. He was wearing a pale blue shirt and black trousers, an elegant wristwatch shinning on his hand.

Jin could feel your gaze on him, having heard the door of your bedroom open.

"Good morning," said Jin when he saw you half-leaning, half-hiding behind the wall of the hallway that opened into the kitchen one the one side and living area on the other.

"Morning," you said quietly as you joined Jin in the kitchen.

"Do I ... I can I help with anything?" you asked, feeling completely useless.

"It's okay," smiled Jin. "There's coffee."

You nodded and uttered a small 'thank you', your eyes drifting to the dining table. It was sat beautifully with napkins, little bowls, cups and glasses.

"Cream, sugar?" asked Jin as he poured you some French press. You stared at him.

"Why are you so kind to me?" you found yourself asking. The pang of guilt you have been feeling was no longer just a pang but a heavy mass that weighed on your chest.

Jin leaned his long arms against the counter, the smile leaving his eyes beneath a forming frown.

"Why did you even help me?" you asked almost desperately. Your eyes filled with tears suddenly and you hated yourself for it.

"You asked me," said Jin somberly, staring down at you.

"But I shouldn't have!" you cried, wiping away your tears that kept on falling. "You should have said no ..."

"What are you talking about?" asked Jin astounded. He took your palm and squeezed your fingers in his hand reassuringly.

"If something happened to you for helping me ..." you shook your head, hiding your eyes behind your free hand as you tried to stop yourself from crying.

Jin watched you, taken back by your words. His heart weighed heavy in his chest to see you cry.

"I should have never gotten you into this," you whispered once you managed to calm down a little. "You're the only friend I got."

Jin tugged on your hand gently and pulled you to him, his arms wrapping around your body. You did not know how to react at first but your hands soon found their way around Jin's shoulders as you curled up against his chest.

"You didn't get me into anything, Y/N," said Jin definitively. "You got yourself out of something."

You nodded as you pulled away, trying to wipe away the tear stains but Jin beat you to it. His large hands cupped your face as he brushed away your tears with his thumbs and made you look up at him.

"Now ... Cream, sugar?" Jin smiled warmly.

Namjoon

You looked around the living area whilst Namjoon disappeared to get you some clothes to change into. His place was very different from what you expected by the look of him. Although in truth, you knew the problem was that you did not know him at all. The thought made you nervous and yet not as nervous as what your night, your life with Kang would have been like if you had not left with Namjoon tonight.

Your eyes skimmed over the books on the shelves, the magazines and newspapers on the coffee table. It was raining outside, millions of drops gliding down the window-wall that opened into an atrium with a small tree. It was pleasant inside, however, with the soft carpet beneath your feet and plants from orchids to bonsai everywhere you looked.

You thought Namjoon would live in a tall skyscraper and yet the drive took you to the outskirts of the city, to a short apartment building. You turned back to the atrium and frowned, wondering whether he owned the entire building.

"Here," said Namjoon, waking you from your thoughts. You jumped around, your eyes on the clothes Namjoon was offering you.

"Everything I have is going to be too big on you," said Namjoon with a small shake of his head as he licked his lips.

"That's fine," you breathed, grateful. It would have been enough if he simply dropped you off somewhere. You could hardly believe that you were even in his home.

"You didn't ..." you began voicing a horrible thought that appeared in your mind but stopped yourself when Namjoon's eyes met yours. Your lips parted yet you could not make yourself say it.

"What?" encouraged Namjoon.

"Nothing," you shook your head as your mouth went dry.

"What?" insisted Namjoon, his dark eyes forcing the answer from you as his brows furrowed into a frown. You clutched the clothes closer to your chest, your fists balling around the soft material of the hoodie and sweatpants he gave you.

"I just ..." you tried again, feeling as if you had swallowed a ball of sand. "Are you helping me to get revenge on Kang?"

The answered scared you. Even if Namjoon was only using you to get ahead of Kang and to spite him, there was very little you could do about it. Once caught up in this world, it was impossible to get out. You were just Namjoon's plaything. And it would explain why he brought you to his apartment and not simply dropping you off at a station or something.

Your heart was thumping hard against your throat as heat prickled on your neck.

Namjoon stared at you for a moment, a moment that seemed to you to last forever although it was barely a few seconds. He turned away and let out a short breath before he licked his lips and his dark eyes returned to you.

"It would be outrageous if I liked you, wouldn't it?" said Namjoon serenely as if he were only thinking out loud, his voice quiet but deep.

It took you a moment to realize it was not serenity Namjoon spoke with but disillusionment. Your lips parted but his words had knocked you out of air.

A loud thunder echoed through the air, making you wince as you looked over your shoulder and into the stormy night air. But as you returned your attention on Namjoon, he was already making for the kitchen.

You hurried, catching up to him when Namjoon suddenly turned around. You had to take a step back to be able to look up at him, a flush of hot fever rushing to your cheeks.

"You like me?" you breathed, your chest rising and falling heavily as your eyes locked with his. You could not tell what Namjoon was thinking but there was a storm of thoughts behind his eyes.

A small, almost invisible breath escaped Namjoon's lips before he turned around, reaching for the teapot.

"Wait," you reached for Namjoon's hand instead. His dark eyes followed your touch back to your eyes. "Please talk to me," you begged in a whisper, tears threatening to creep into your eyes.

Namjoon studied you before he leaned down closer to you.

"I like you," said Namjoon quietly, his chest rumbling with the deepness of his voice. His eyes radiated a warmth you had never known before. Suddenly, all of the times you saw Namjoon at all of those benefits and fundraisers came flooding right back to you: the warm smiles hiding in his eyes, the nods, and the hellos, when he talked to you - how he talked to you ...

"You like me?" you exhaled incredulously.

The warmth inside Namjoon's eyes swirled with amusement as he breathed a smile, this time managing to reach for the teapot. He could feel your gaze on his back as he poured water into the kettle, the smile on his lips growing.

You were too stunned to speak, certain that he would dismiss your assumptions and not confirm them. You did not know how you felt about Namjoon, you hardly knew him; but you could definitely feel the butterflies in your stomach.

You managed to take a shower and wash the makeup off your face before changing into the clothes Namjoon lent you. He was right too; you had to roll up the cuffs of the sweatpants whilst his hoodie fell to the middle of your thighs. You did not mind though, grateful to get out of the evening dress you wore before.

You found Namjoon in the living room, his back to you as he spoke on the phone, holding a tall cup of tea between the tips of his fingers. You leaned against the arch that opened into the living area, waiting for him to finish the conversation. Namjoon had heard you coming and ended the phone call, his gaze rising from your toes up to your eyes as he saw you in his clothes.

Your heart began beating faster in your chest as blood rushed to your cheeks.

"Is everything alright?" you asked, referring to Namjoon's phone call.

"Everything is alright," confirmed Namjoon and made his way over to you. Although the phone call was Yoongi who called him with news of Kang's rage and promises of revenge, Namjoon wouldn't dream of telling you. You were upset enough as it was.

Namjoon did not have to tell you though. You had become frighteningly good at noticing even the smallest signs of tension in the past months and you could see it in Namjoon's broad shoulders.

"He knows I'm here, doesn't he?" you asked quietly. Your eyes prickled with tears but you looked away. You were so tired of crying.

Your gaze rose to Namjoon's when he did not say anything.

"Doesn't he?" you whispered to keep your voice from breaking. Namjoon's eyes watched you, a parting in his lips as he realized he could not lie to you, not when you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

"He knows."

"I should—"

"You don't have to worry about it. I'll handle it," Namjoon cut you off immediately. He would not hear it.

"But—"

"Y/N, I'll handle it," decided Namjoon, giving you no space to argue. Your eyes studied his face but he was unwavering in his decision.

You had no choice but to nod although it only made the tears spill from your eyes as your chin quivered. It was all too much: Kang, the benefit, the escape, rolling all of this responsibility on Namjoon ...

"I'm sorry," you whispered hiding your eyes behind your hand.

"Don't apologize," said Namjoon sternly. "Not for this." His arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you closer, his hand holding your head to his chest as you began to sob. You wanted to apologize a thousand times but Namjoon did not want your apologies; there was nothing to apologize for. He only wanted to hold you and make sure you were safe.

Yoongi

You looked around the apartment warily whilst Yoongi went to get you some clothes to change into as you were still wearing the evening gown. You took a step closer the wall stacked with hundreds upon hundreds of vinyl records. You read some of the tiny titles scribbled on their sides when Yoongi suddenly reappeared behind you.

"I was just looking," you said quickly, making sure he knew you did not touch any of his things.

Yoongi looked at you. "You don't have to just look," he said, gesturing at the record player sitting near the window. You followed his gaze.

"Oh," you breathed. "That's okay." A small smile came to rest on your lips.

Yoongi handed you a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft black hoodie. You thanked him, holding the clothes to your chest.

You could not believe the reality of your situation or what made you agree to do this in the fist place. You may have spoken to Min Yoongi a couple of times before but in truth you did not know him at all and the thought frightened you.

Yoongi showed you around the apartment to break the uncomfortable silence. He opened the door of the bathroom, gestured to his bedroom at the end of the hallway and showed you to the guest bedroom. Yoongi held the door open for you to enter. You hesitated, not catching on to his gesture and waiting for him to enter first.

Yoongi's dark eyes waited on you. You glanced at him.

"Oh," was all that came from your mouth before you quickly scurried inside. The walls were a deep colour neither grey nor green with white wooden lining and a light ceiling that brightened the room. There was cherry blossom in the vase on the nightstand and a large bed with cozy pillows and blankets in the shades of beige against one of the walls.

"I can stay here?" you asked carefully, not wanting to take anything for granted. It was hard enough for you to believe that anyone would go up against Kang for anything, much less to help you.

"It's yours," said Yoongi, leaning against the door frame. "I will let you get changed," he said before you could thank him. He closed the door quietly behind him.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your body sinking into the soft mattress. You held Yoongi's clothes close to you as if they were a pillow. They smelled of laundry detergent and the beautiful fragrance he always wore. You closed your eyes but shouldn't have because your eyes spilled with hot tears and your chest was heavy with sobs that you would not let Yoongi to hear. You weren't sure why you were crying; was it relief or fear or both or nothing at all, but a part of it was all of the stress and anxiety that built up inside of you over the past months.

You changed into the clothes Yoongi gave you whilst still calming yourself down some. You slipped into the bathroom unnoticed and washed your face. One look at your make up and he would have know you had been crying. Yoongi knew anyway though from the redness of your eyes and the tone of your voice.

"Are you hungry?" asked Yoongi and opened the door of his fridge. It was always stacked with food although he almost never ate at home.

"I'm okay," you said genuinely as you leaned against the counter. You could not possibly have anything to eat in that moment.

Yoongi closed the fridge, his ink black eyes turning to you. His clothes were too big on you but he figured they were more comfortable than in the stunning dress you wore.

"I can make you some tea," suggested Yoongi and took a step closer, seeing the restlessness in your eyes.

"It's okay," you spoke quietly, using much self-control not to take a step back. "Thank you," you found yourself saying at last. "For everything."

"You don't need to thank me for anything," said Yoongi, uninterested in your gratitude.

"But I do," you insisted and your eyes watered again. You hated yourself for crying so much but you could not control it. Just the thought of what tonight might have been like for you, if Kang lost control like he did before the benefit ... What tomorrow would have been like and every day that followed if you had not managed to get away from him.

"You don't," said Yoongi again and yet his expression softened when he saw you like this. "You should get some rest," he said gently.

You nodded as he walked you to the guest bedroom. You hesitated before you went in.

"I saw you have sleeping pills in the bathroom," you began, threading lightly. "Would it be okay if I had one?"

"Of course," agreed Yoongi and brought you a glass of water.

"You don't have to ask me this," said Yoongi as you took the sleeping pill. "Anything you need, it's yours." You stared at Yoongi with the glass in your hand. He took it, his fingers brushing against yours, making your skin tingle.

"Thank you," you said again but Yoongi gave no sign of recognizing your gratitude. He would not accept it because in his mind's eye everything he did for you and everything you needed was a given.

You said your good-nights before you closed the door behind you and climbed into bed. You surrounded yourself with pillows, and although your mind was screaming with thoughts and emotions that made your tears soak the covers beneath your head, the sleeping pill was even stronger than you anticipated. You fell into a deep slumber, sleeping for nearly fourteen hours without waking.

Yoongi could barely sleep at all however. He had half a mind to take the sleeping pill himself but he needed himself alert. So instead, Yoongi lay in bed thinking and staring at the ceiling. He could not have cared less about Kang or the rivalry or any of it; his mind always only drifted off to you.

Yoongi would get up every couple of hours and quietly open the door to your bedroom only enough to see that you were alright and sound asleep.

Yoongi came to check on you one last time after he managed to get a couple of hours of sleep himself. Morning was already piercing into view on the horizon when he glanced into your room. He pushed the door open quietly and fixed the comforter over you as it was almost on the floor. Your body sought the warmth in your sleep when the comforter was drawn over you once again and your arms wrapped around it, hugging it close. A small sigh escaped your lips when Yoongi brushed a stray lock of hair from your eyes. He could hear the sound of his own heart ringing in his ears at how beautiful you looked. It took all the strength in him to peel himself away from your side and to not caress your cheek, which could cause you to wake. He did not even want to imagine the look on your face if you found him in your room when you woke. You were already anxious enough because of Kang.

The thought of that man made Yoongi's blood boil. He closed the door of your bedroom gently although the anger he was feeling could have him slam them to the point of breaking.

Yoongi took a long shower to clear his mind and wake him up properly. Kang knew you were with Yoongi and he promised an all-out war. Yoongi could not help but smile to himself as hot water poured down his body. He would enjoy every minute of destroying Kang. He thought about it still even as he got dressed, his wrath fueled even more each time he remembered your bruise and the way Kang must have been treating you.

Yoongi exited his bedroom so deep in thought he almost collided with you, who also just came out of your room. Yoongi's eyes went wide as he steadied you by the shoulders, the scent of your perfume that still lingered on your skin from last night triggering goosebumps on his arms, but it was nothing compared to your small hands resting against his chest.

You stared at Yoongi in his black t-shirt and his black trousers as caught off guard as he was.

"Sorry," you said quickly and took a step back.

Compared to last night, you were more rested than ever. You could not even recall when you last had such a good night's sleep, having slept next to a person you did not trust and did not want anymore for weeks.

"I'm sorry for last night too," you began. Yoongi looked at you surprised. "I wasn't myself; I was tired and I was scared ... And I just ... I really wanted to thank you for everything," you confessed as you bit the inside of your lip.

"Y/N—"

"Please, Yoongi, I just ..." you cut him off but did not know how to put it in words. Yoongi's face softened even more than you thought possible hearing the sound of his name roll off your tongue.

"I just ..." you tried again but there were no words that you could find. Instead, you stepped on the tips of your toes and reached your hands around Yoongi's neck as you pulled him into a tight hug. He froze for a moment, before his arms locked around the middle of your back, his face burying in your neck.

"Thank you," you whispered again and found that this time Yoongi did not protest.

Hoseok

Jung took you to his apartment in the city. The building was an enormously tall skyscraper with a doorman and security men posted at every corner. Your gaze traced their heavy guns as Hoseok led you to the elevator. The closer you got to your final destination, the more anxious you became and the adrenaline began to disappear. The reality of it all hit you like a ton of bricks, a thousand worries weighing down on your chest.

"He doesn't know where you live, does he?" you asked Jung carefully just before the elevator opened.

Hoseok placed his hand on the side of the door to let you pass in case it tried to close.

"Who?" asked Jung as you stepped out into the small, bright corridor. A couple of more men were posted there, making you nervous as your worried eyes returned to Jung.

"He doesn't," assured Hoseok when he saw the look in your eyes. "Even if he did, he would never make it past the lobby."

Jung typed in the security code and pressed his finger against the pad before the door opened.

"Come in."

You stepped inside warily, quickly looking for signs of anything out of the ordinary. But the apartment was beautiful. The hallway opened into a spacious living area that lead to the kitchen and dining room. The walls were creamy and bright and decorated with artwork. There were bookshelves and plants and large windows that allowed for a view of the city, bringing life into the room.

You took off your heels, hesitating a little before entering the living area. It was all so clean and organized like something off a magazine or a Pinterest board.

"It's okay," said Hoseok, the tips of his fingers gently brushing against your shoulder blade.

You nodded. There was a strange warmth about Hoseok that you could not explain. Every instinct in your body trusted him although your mind and reason still needed some convincing. You barely knew him in truth.

Hoseok lent you some of his clothes to change into, a pair of cozy sweatpants and a soft t-shit your body got lost in. He asked if you were hungry or wanted anything else but you had no appetite. Your stomach was still in knots.

Hoseok showed you the guest bedroom where you could stay. The room was warm and inviting, with pale pistachio-green walls and a beige-white carpet that framed the bed, which was topped with pillows and blankets.

The sight of it all, how beautiful and inviting and warm it was, gave your chest a painful squeeze. You hated the tears that prickled your eyes but you could not help but ask,

"Why are you helping me?"

Your voice was soft but your brows gathered into a frown when you looked up at Hoseok. He seemed surprised by your question.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You barely know me," you found yourself whispering to keep your voice from cracking.

"I know enough," said Hoseok, who now frowned as well. You were taken back by how drastically his features could change from soft and inviting, to authoritative and pensive although there was still warmth you could recognize in his dark eyes.

"But how?" you asked quietly, your gaze locked with his. Hoseok looked away and licked his lips before his eyes returned to you.

"I have been keeping an eye on you," he confessed.

"Why?" you breathed, astonished and your brows raised. Hoseok did not say anything although his eyes spoke loudly enough for you to understand.

"My bedroom is just down the hall if you'll need anything," said Hoseok and tore his gaze away from yours. He turned around and made to leave, keeping the door of your bedroom cracked open.

You found yourself forgetting to breathe as you watched him leave. You sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed with emotions. Hand clutched over your chest, you tried to steady your breathing and ease the pain that assembled in your lungs. You tried to find some sleep but you only twisted and turned all night and waited for the morning to come.

You emerged from the room early in the morning, surprised to find Hoseok awake as well. What more, you found him dressed in a pair of elegant black trousers and a crisp white shirt, freshly shaven and showered, smelling like heaven. The entire hallway smelled like his bodywash, giving you goosebumps

You felt like you were in nothing more than a garbage bag compared to Hoseok although it was his Prada t-shirt you were wearing.

Hoseok looked up from his phone, feeling a pair of eyes on him. You blushed and hoped it did not show in the early morning light and with your hair let down.

"Awake already?" asked Hoseok, his morning voice soft and nothing short of warm as he was leaning against the kitchen counter. You nodded, still lingering in the narrow hallway, which opened into the kitchen and living area.

"Did you sleep well?"

You shook your head and joined him at the counter, sitting down on one of the chairs. "I couldn't keep my mind off things," you murmured, your voice soft and quiet in the morning hour. "How did you sleep?"

Something shifted in Hoseok's eyes when you asked him that. "I couldn't keep my mind off things either," he said unblinking, taking in your features: the sheet wrinkles on the side of your neck, the way you breathed softly with your sleepy eyes on his.

Hoseok looked away. He grabbed a large paper shopping bag that sat at his feet and placed it on the counter. They were clothes for you - only some basic items but you were too shocked to thank him.

"You went shopping?" you asked wide-eyed although it probably wasn't even seven in the morning and everything was still closed.

"No, I had someone bring them over," smiled Hoseok.

"I didn't go anywhere," he said after a moment, frowning at the thought of leaving you there all alone.

Hoseok could not sleep at night because his mind kept drifting off to you, sleeping in his apartment, in his guest bedroom down the hall. He thought about your conversation last night and how he handled it. Hoseok was determined to make up for it and ordered his personal assistant to find some clothes for you even if he had to wake the owner of the shopping center in the middle of the night. He wanted to make you comfortable by at least getting you some clothes of your own and some essentials you might need.

You watched Hoseok as a cloud of steam rose continuously from his coffee. You followed a strand of his hair that threatened onto his eyes. You reached over hesitantly, carefully catching the lock between your fingers and tucking it in its place.

Hoseok froze still as you did that, his dark eyes piercing through you as heat crept to your cheeks.

"Sorry," you whispered and crossed your arms again as you were leaning against the counter. Little did you know Hoseok's heart threatened to jump from his chest from racing so fast, and even less did he know that yours wanted to do the same.

Jimin

Jimin took you to his apartment in the city. The building was secured from top to bottom with security posted at every corner. The sight of the guards calmed you and made you anxious at the same time. You quickened your pace, your hand slipping into Jimin's instinctively. His sharp eyes snapped to you, his reaction making you realize what you were doing.

"Sorry," you said quickly, your eyes wide as you tried to take your hand back but Jimin would not let it go. Instead, his fingers intertwined with yours as you entered the elevator. You squeezed Jimin's hand subconsciously, your knee fidgeting beneath your elegant black dress. Your mind rushed in every direction with thoughts of Kang and the benefit at its centre. You wondered how long it took for him to notice that you were gone and that Park was gone too.

"He doesn't ... He doesn't know where you live, does he?" you asked gravely just as the elevator door opened. Jimin's gaze locked with yours. The door wanted to close again but his hand stopped them.

"Of course not," said Jimin darkly. You exited the elevator. "And if he does, he'll be shot dead before he makes it past the lobby," added Jimin, knocking the breath out of you. You stared at him paralyzed as he typed in the code of the apartment lock, imagining the scene in your head. Although Kang has been terrible to you and you wanted nothing else but to get away from him, a part of you still cared for some reason. You have been together for nearly two years and not all of it was bad. Yet on the other hand, if Kang came after Jimin for helping you ...

"Come," said Jimin as he opened the door for you.

You stared at Jimin whilst your heart weighed heavy in your chest and your lungs turned to lead with worry. You took your hand from his.

"I should go," you found yourself saying and turned on your heel, pressing the elevator button.

"Y/N," called Jimin, already catching your hand before the elevator door could even open. "What are you talking about?" His eyebrows had formed into a terrible frown. You could not even look at him as your eyes filled with hot tears.

"I shouldn't be here," you hurried, "If Kang finds out where I am—"

"I told you you're safe, Y/N," Jimin cut you off and you finally managed to look at him, your big watery eyes finding his.

"I don't care about me," you cried. "What if he hurts you?" You looked away as two salty tears slipped down your cheeks. You brushed them away with your free hand, doing your best to control the sobs that wanted nothing more but to escape your lungs.

You looked back up at Jimin when he did not say anything. His frown was almost gone and his jaw softened as his brown eyes filled with warmth.

Another tear slipped from your eye but Jimin caught it with his thumb.

"Come in," assured Jimin, his voice gentle. You hesitated but the tug of Jimin's hand encouraged you before he led you inside.

Jimin turned on the lights, revealing a spacious living area at the end of the short hallway. You slipped off your heels and took in the view. The rich dark tones of the walls and the furniture were balanced out by the white ceilings and warm lights. The living room opened into the kitchen and dining room that further led to a narrow hallway.

"Come, let's get you some clothes," said Jimin, making you turn around. There was a staircase behind you that led to a second floor.

Jimin pushed open the door of his bedroom as he led you through it to his walk-in closet. His room was the opposite of downstairs with its pale walls and dark hardwood floors. The walls of Jimin's walk-in closet, however, were lined with suits and shirts and jewellery and shoes.

"Are you cold? Do you want a hoodie?" asked Jimin but received no answer from you. When he turned around, he found your eyes on one the dressers he had especially made. Jimin forgot one of the drawers open, one with a slick black sniper gun lying in a bed of foam of its exact shape.

Jimin let go of your hand and closed the drawer with a swift gesture. The drawer locked into the dresser, only Jimin's fingerprint being able to open it again.

Your heart was beating hard against your throat as you gaze met with Jimin's. This was not your first time seeing a gun yet the sight of it sent shivers down your spine nonetheless.

"T-shirt or hoodie?" asked Jimin again, changing the topic completely.

"A t-shirt is fine," you managed to utter and although your voice was near as quiet as a whisper, your voice crack slightly anyway. You could see that Jimin noticed because his body froze when he heard it even if only for a split second.

Jimin handed you one of his t-shirts and a pair of cozy sweatpants and gave you some privacy to change.

You slipped from your dress and put on his clothes before emerging from the closet. You expected to find him in his room but he wasn't there. You thought to find him downstairs but you could not help but take a look around Jimin's bedroom. There was a silver laptop on his large bed, only the lamp from his nightstand turned on. You stopped in front of the window-wall and took in the full view of the city; the yellow and red lights glowed in the rainy night with blue lights from an ambulance or a police car passing by here and there. You sank deep in thought. The image of Kang's eyes, of his clenched jaw, and loud voice persisted in your mind as you remembered your last argument. You remembered the fear and the insecurity.

You felt heat on the back of your neck and the pressure of anxiety in your chest. You sat down in one of the two armchairs by the window, trying to calm your trembling hands.

"You know you're sitting in my favourite chair," said Jimin, a shadow of a playful smile in the corner of his lips but you could not see it; you could only hear his words.

"W-What?" you stuttered, comprehending what he said. You stood up quickly, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know ..."

Your big wide eyes jumped to Jimin's as you hugged your arms. His eyebrows hung in a formidable frown, his dark eyes darting to your hands. Although he knew it was there, Jimin's gaze fell upon your bruised elbow for the first time. The purple fingertips that were imprinted into your skin made his stomach twist into knots. It took every ounce of discipline in him not to storm out and kill Kang with his bare hands. Jimin knew you guys fought a lot but he never realized it was this bad or he would have done something about it.

"Y/N," whispered Jimin, his hands slowly cupping your cheeks. You did not even know when it happened but there were tears falling from your eyes. Jimin tried to brush them away with his thumbs but only more fell.

"Y/N, please ..." begged Jimin, his heart falling to pieces to see you cry. You sniffled back a sob and looked down. How you hated to cry; it made you feel weak and helpless but nothing you could do would stop it in that moment.

Jimin pulled you closer, his arms securing around your trembling frame. Your hands wrapped around his waist as sobs filled your lungs. Jimin caressed your hair and held you to him as you cried, his chin resting on top of your head.

Taehyung

You observed Taehyung with the corner of your eye as he drove, still not knowing where he was taking you. You began to doubt whether this was a good idea, whether you could trust Taehyung. They were all in this business together with the same sort of tactics and manipulations. For a moment, you considered it was all just a trap, that Kang and Taehyung made some sort of agreement for your boyfriend to test your loyalty or play a trick on you.

Your hands began to tremble as you blinked back the tears. Taehyung made a sharp turn into the garage of a tall building. You found yourself holding your breath until he parked and you got out of the car. The neon lights almost blinded you but Taehyung found your hand to guide you. He took you to the elevator guarded by three heavily armed bodyguards. They all nodded at Taehyung, their eyes only noting your presence before turning away.

Your heart was beating loud and your head began to feel light as the elevator rose to the topmost floor of the building. You had not even noticed but you have been subconsciously squeezing Taehyung's hand in a fidgety repetition as you tried to calm down. You could feel Taehyung's quiet gaze on you all the way up until the elevator door slid open.

When Taehyung let go of your hand to type in the security code for his apartment, you instinctively hugged your bare arms. Your gaze shifted along the narrow corridor, somehow expecting for Kang to appear in front of you.

"Come in," asked Taehyung not ungently but you nearly gasped at the sound of his voice that startled you from your thoughts. He noticed because an even darker frown settled on his eyes.

"Thank you," you said quietly and slipped inside, trying to disguise how scared you really were. But there was no fooling Taehyung.

You took off your heels, now standing much shorter to Taehyung than before. Your eyes scanned his beautiful apartment and still searched for anything that would stand out. Dark and rich earthy colours dominated everywhere you looked, brightened by warm lights and large windows.

Taehyung showed you around to the kitchen and the dining area and the main hallway which led to one of the bathrooms, his office, a guest bedroom and his own bedroom.

You waited whilst Taehyung got you some of his clothes to change into, your eyes scanning the apartment anxiously. You almost jumped when Taehyung reappeared at your side, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

You thanked him, squeezing the clothes to your chest. "Can I take a shower?" you asked hesitantly.

"Of course," said Taehyung and opened the door of the bathroom for you. He disappeared quietly, giving you the privacy you needed.

The hot water felt good against your skin and calmed some of your nerves although you were still on pins and needles. You dried yourself and changed into the comfortable clothes Taehyung lent you. Your skin smelled of his bodywash, giving you goosebumps.

You found Taehyung in the living room, sitting elegantly on the sofa. His eyes rose from his phone and took in the sight of you in his clothes. You had to roll up the cuffs of the pants but otherwise they were perfect.

"Feeling better?"

You nodded a little, slowly making your way to the sofa where you sat down as well, not too close, not too far from Taehyung.

"Why did you help me?" you asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. If this was not a trap as Kang was nowhere to be seen, you could not help but wonder why Taehyung offered his help to you.

Taehyung turned to you, his formidable presence making your stomach twist and your heart give a painful squeeze.

"I like you ... so I helped you," Taehyung said calmly, the tone of his voice smooth and even like molten gold.

I like you.

A shivery breath caught in the back of your throat as you felt the tips of your fingers prickle with needles. Your heart was beating wildly against your chest.

"And you ... You don't want anything in return for ... For helping me?" you asked timidly, studying Taehyung's face as your eyes found his. He paused.

"Like what?" asked Taehyung. You could see it in the somber expression of his face that he could read the thoughts behind your eyes. He knew what you were asking but was offended by it.

You looked away quickly as your entire body suddenly seemed like it was on fire. Your gaze turned to your hands where you picked on the skin around your nails anxiously. You could feel Taehyung's gaze burn into you.

"I don't want anything in return, Y/N," said Taehyung calmly. He got up and ran a hand through his hair. "You should get some rest."

You looked up at him as Taehyung made past you. A pang of guilt cut deep into your chest when you watched his frame disappear down the hallway.

You tried to find some sleep that night but you couldn't. Although the bed was perfect, the temperature just to your liking, it was your mind that was in a tempest and kept you up. Even when you managed to find sleep for a few minutes, your mind replayed Kang's words mingled with Taehyung's like a broken record.

You're never leaving me. Ever. -I like you. -You're never leaving me. Ever. -I like you. You're never—

You woke up with a start, a loud gasp escaping your lungs as you sat up in bed. The guest bedroom was already kissed by daylight, now waking in the shades of creamy white and deep espresso brown instead of shadows appearing everywhere you looked. The room itself could nearly be an apartment in its own right with its ornate loveseat and a matching armchair, with paintings and dressers and lively green plants.

You rolled out of bed still more rested than you went to sleep even though you had an uneasy night. At the least you could think more clearly than yesterday, which also meant that you felt even guiltier than before.

You expected to find Taehyung somewhere in the living area or the kitchen but he was nowhere to be seen. He was not in the bathroom across your room either, which only left his bedroom. Just as you were about to hide back in the guestroom for a while longer, Taehyung appeared on the doorway of his bedroom.

A blush so strong rose to your cheeks that your skin pulsated with fever. Taehyung was in nothing but a pair of trousers, his hair ruffled and his eyes full of sleep as he leaned one of his arms against the door frame beside his head.

"I'll get dressed in a minute," said Taehyung abently, his voice so deep and husky with sleep it made goosebumps rise on your arms and legs.

"Take your time," you managed to utter, now feeling the blush prickle your chest and neck as well. The image of Taehyung's bare chest would not leave your mind no matter how hard you tried.

You waited in the kitchen, pacing and biting your lip, when Taehyung appeared once again. He wore a pair of elegant black trousers and a matching shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A silver wristwatch rested on one of his hands, the other one resting snugly in his pocket. His dark eyes found you immediately although he was in urgent need of some coffee.

"Did you get any rest?" you spoke, desperate to cut through the silence.

The espresso machine was already buzzing busily when Taehyung turned to you, leaning against the counter.

"I should be asking you that," said Taehyung huskily, a hint of amusement hiding in his eyes. You did not say anything though but waited for him to go first.

"I didn't sleep much," Taehyung told truthfully.

"Me neither," you agreed. "I couldn't stop thinking ... I ... I shouldn't have said that last night." You looked down for a moment, ashamed of yourself.

"Said what?"

"You helped me and I questioned your intentions," you said desperately, beginning to think Taehyung was torturing you on purpose. But when you looked into his eyes, there was nothing he was not sharing with you.

Taehyung stood up straight and walked over to you, stopping only inches away. He leaned down, his forehead nearly touching yours as a sharp breath caught in your throat. Your heart raced wildly.

"If you weren't you, you would have been right to question my intentions," said Taehyung, both of his hands now hidden in the pockets of his trousers yet his gaze remained burned into yours.

"You are in luck though," he spoke again, sending shivers down your spine. "Because as strange and unusual as I as well find it, my intentions with you are nothing if not pure," Taehyung purred, his eyes filled with unusual warmth.

The espresso machine gave a quiet ring.

"Coffee?"

Jungkook

You arrived at Jungkook's apartment building in the middle of the night. The stress not only of the evening alone but the past couple of months caught up to you. Once the adrenaline of escaping your boyfriend subsided, you could not even bring yourself to talk. The entire ride was filled with not uncomfortable silence although you were still on pins and needles. You had not planned to leave the benefit or your now ex-boyfriend the way you did, much less did you think Jeon would be the person to help you do it. You worried you might have made a wrong decision asking him for help as you glanced at his tattooed knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel and his formidable frown.

You got out of the car the moment the engine died, yearning for a breath of fresh air. You did not get it though as you were in the garage of the apartment building and the air was worse than ever. Instead, you came face to face with men clad in black carrying heavy weapons. The sight made your stomach twist into even tighter knots but it was too late now.

You followed Jungkook into the elevator that eventually rose to the top of the building. The ride made you uneasy, making your head feel as light as a feather. Just as the walls seemed to start closing down on you, the door of the elevator opened following a ring.

Jungkook placed his hand on the side of the door to keep it from closing as you walked out. You waited for him in front of another pair of doors where Jungkook typed in the code of the security lock and had the scanner read his fingerprint.

Jungkook opened the door for you, letting you enter first. He turned on the lights quickly and closed the entrance behind him. The click of the door made you turn around, your eyes darting to his. His eyebrows seemed to be frozen in a frown since you left the benefit.

Jungkook's gaze revisited the place where Kang left his fingerprints, his mind drifting off to dangerous places.

You licked your dry lips and took off your heels that were beginning to dig painfully into your feet. As you rose, you finally took in the sight of Jungkook's apartment. It was a balance of dark and light, of vast emptiness and inviting warmth.

"I'll get you some clothes," said Jungkook as he made past you, the smell of smoke and his perfume lingering on his clothes.

You glanced at the door when Jungkook was out of sight and tried the knob but it was locked, the keypad staring at you blinkingly. You did not intend on leaving, you had nowhere to go, but just being able to have that option ...

Jungkook brought you a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft black t-shirt that you thanked him for. He showed you to the bathroom where you changed and washed off your smudged makeup. Yet once you returned, Jungkook could still see the storm of thoughts behind your eyes.

"What is it?" asked Jungkook not unkindly although his frown curved even grimmer if that was even possible.

"Am I ..." you began, not knowing how to string together the words. The answer that you might get frightened you.

Jungkook's eyes waited with expectation.

"Am I allowed to leave?" you uttered at last, your voice quiet as your gaze shifted between Jungkook's eyes and the buttons of his shirt.

"Why wouldn't you be?" asked Jungkook, a hidden sharpness in his voice that you could point out easily. In the past months, you had learned to pick up on the smallest signals and gestures that could most of the time save you from a difficult argument.

"I don't know," you tried to keep your voice loud enough for him to hear although your hands were wet with cold sweat.

Jungkook stared at you. You were avoiding his eyes, your hands if not your whole body were trembling, your shoulders tense.

"Why did you come with me if you're so scared of me?" asked Jungkook. Your eyes found his as your lips parted.

"I suppose I'm not as scared of you as I am of him," you confessed after a moment not only to Jungkook but to yourself. You looked down, ashamed that you felt that way about someone who so far did everything but hurt you.

Your eyes watered with tears and your chin quivered. You thought about everything Kang told you about Jungkook, and you thought about Kang himself; the thought of him made you sick with fever.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you shook your head. You tried to push away the tears, tired of crying, but they fell down your cheeks anyway.

"You've been nothing but kind to me ... If it weren't for you ..." you could not even think about it. You hid your eyes behind your hand, holding back the pain in your chest.

"Fuck ..." muttered Jungkook under his breath and pulled you into his arms despite battling with himself not to do it. He could not forget the way you winced from his touch when he led you to his car, but he did not know what else to do.

You did not flinch this time, however. You welcomed the comfort of his embrace, of his arms wrapping around your frame. His chest felt warm beneath your cheek, the sound of his loud heartbeat calming you down.

You did not know how much time had passed or how long the two of you have been standing that way, but it was long enough for you to feel yourself want to fall asleep.

"I'm so tired," you whispered, your eyes closed and your hands still wrapped around Jungkook's waist.

"I know," said Jungkook quietly not to disturb you. He slipped his arms beneath you and picked you up. If you had had but an ounce of energy left, you would have argued against it and insisted to walk alone but you could no longer fight at all, not for anything.

Soon, there was a soft pillow beneath your head and the covers drawn over your shivering body. The exhaustion made you even colder than usual but you fell asleep anyway.

***

When you woke up, the pale sun was shinning into the unknown room. The walls were charcoal grey, the ceiling white with a wall of windows opening from top to bottom to your side. You sat up quickly, not remembering how you got there, not recognizing any of the furniture nor the bed. Your gaze soon fell upon the armchair in the corner of the room. The memories of last night came back to you when you saw Jungkook sleeping in the armchair. He no longer wore a tuxedo but a black hoodie and a pair of sweatpants as he lay sprawled in the armchair.

You remembered crying in Jungkook's arms and hugging him, and you were almost certain he carried you to bed. Heat rushed to your cheeks and neck, painting them red with blush as you wished for the floor to crack open and swallow you. You were rested now, at least more than last night when you were a complete mess of emotions and could think straight.

Your mind drifted to Kang as you wondered what happened at the benefit after you disappeared, the rage and uproar he must have caused.

Your elbow was even sorer than you remembered and the bruise grew darker and more menacing by the hour. You tried to touch it but the brush of fingertips alone was painful.

Although the armchair looked uncomfortable, you wanted to let Jungkook sleep. You could not stop the butterflies from awakening in your stomach when you saw him like that. His face was relaxed, his brows free from the usual frown. Jungkook's arms were crossed lazily across his chest as he breathed softly.

You slipped from the bed quietly, goosebumps rising on your arms in the cold morning air. It was misty and grey outside, the sun now gone completely. You took the soft blanket from the foot of the bed and made your way to Jungkook almost on the tips of your toes. You folded the blanket once and placed it gently over Jungkook, praying that it would not wake him up.

Jungkook remained asleep as you slipped from the guest bedroom and found the bathroom. It made you uneasy to look through his bathroom cabinet but you were in desperate need of a toothbrush. You opened one of the spare ones and borrowed a bit of toothpaste, followed by washing your face and using your fingers for comb when you suddenly heard footsteps in the hallway.

Your gaze shot up to the bathroom door and your heart jumped in your chest. It took you a moment to remind yourself that you were not at home, that you were safe, and Kang was miles away.

When you reached the kitchen, Jungkook was rubbing his tired eyes with his index and thumb as he stood before the buzzing espresso machine.

You wondered why he decided to sleep in the armchair when Jungkook turned around, feeling your gaze burn into his back.

"Hi," you said quietly, a small smile lining your lips.

"Hey," said Jungkook, his voice deep and husky like broken. Goosebumps rose on your arms.

"Coffee?" he offered, fixing his hair by running his fingers through it.

"Please," you said but felt a pang of guilt when you saw the tiredness on his face. You sat down at the counter and poured some milk into your coffee whilst Jungkook watered his espresso to an americano. Just the smell of coffee managed to bring him back from the dead some, although he yearned for a shower and a workout.

"Why did you sleep in the armchair?" you found yourself asking, unable to stop the blush from creeping to your cheeks. You bit your lip, your eyes shifting between Jungkook and your coffee.

Jungkook watched you for a moment, his eyebrows nestling in their usual frown. "You had nightmares."

"I did?" you breathed, not remembering a thing. You shivered from the cold air but you did not notice as you tried to put together the puzzles of your memory.

"You don't remember?" asked Jungkook and set down his nearly empty coffee cup. You looked up at him when his fingers went to the hem of his hoodie as he pulled it off. The t-shirt beneath it rose to the middle of his torso as he did so, sending a wave of heat to your cheeks.

"Here," said Jungkook and handed the hoodie to you.

"No, it's okay—" you reacted quickly but he cut you off.

"Take it," said Jungkook, leaving no room for arguments. You couldn't do anything else but to thank him to which he nodded absent-mindedly.

You slipped on Jungkook's hoodie, still warm and smelling like him. You sank into the comfortable material, your nose buried in the collar of the hoodie. Jungkook did not say anything for a while, making you look up with big eyes as you just woke from your thoughts.

Jungkook was watching you all the while, leaning against the counter at the hip, until your gaze finally rose to him. His dark eyes were filled with amusement, which made you blush. His lips spread into a small smile as he passed by you and headed down the hallway. You stared at his back until he disappeared from your sight, feeling your cheeks pulsate with heat.

[irisintheafterglow]

hii i would like to request the premise of a feral gojo over reader getting hurt or in danger 🤤 please don't feel obligated to write tho only if u feel like it :3

cross them, cross me (gojo x you)

wc: 1.29k

cw/tags: brief but explicit violence including descriptions of blood (satoru beats the shit out of a curse lmao), swearing, angst/fluff with a happy ending, established-ish relationship with pet names baby and sweetheart

note: ah feral gojo my beloved. i think i got a little carried away with writing the violence aspect but what can i say! he really did go feral when you got hurt! anyways, hope you like this anon and thank you for the sweet ask <3

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated :))

The sound of bones crunching between his fingers is euphoric.

One by one, he takes the Curse’s limbs in his free hand, the other effortlessly holding it by the neck against a wall. Its desperate wriggles and squirms are futile and pathetic. With a tightened grip, the wretched body parts in Satoru’s palm wither and become a limp slug of skin. He’d tuned out the Curse’s howls of agony minutes ago, the world around him falling silent as he focused all of his energy into making the Curse beg for death. The phrase “seeing red” was familiar to him, sure, but the hue tinting his vision now was a deep shade of crimson. Whether that was from the blood or his own concentration, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. 

“What, did you give up?” His taunting smile turns into a snarl when the Curse fails to answer him the first time. It slumped itself against the wall, but he woke it up with a firm slap across its face. It wasn’t allowed to die, not yet. Not until he’d had his fill of its cries. “Learn your lesson yet?” It coughs out a plea for mercy, but he isn’t satisfied. Times like these were the only time his power truly went directly to his head. 

“Gojo.” Nanami’s voice temporarily breaks him from his trance, but Satoru doesn’t bother glancing his colleague’s way. His hand still remains around the neck of the Curse, scathing blue eyes burning holes into its face. “It’s time to depart.”

“I’m not done yet,” he hisses, embedding the Curse’s face further into the wall. The suit of his coworker is pristine and unscathed; his own uniform, on the other hand, was soaked in blood that wasn’t his own. No, he wasn’t done yet. Not until every Curse within a ten mile vicinity knew exactly what would happen to them if they attempted to harm you again.

“They’re asking about you,” Nanami states impatiently with a quick look at his watch. “And I’m working overtime.”

“Five more minutes,” Satoru commands and Nanami has no choice but to obey, releasing an exhausted sigh and leaving his superior to his crusade. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, realizing that the Curse must have died while he wasn’t looking. He examines the lifeless creature with pure disgust, flinging it so intensely at the wall behind him that its innards splatter like wet paint. “You are below me,” he says to no one in particular, but he can sense the frightened energy of the weaker Curses inhabiting the building. “Touch them and you will meet the same fate.” 

Once he’s exited the abandoned hospital, taken down the Curtain, and found the alley corner where he’d instructed Nanami to watch you, all remaining malicious intent in his body disappears. You’re scowling at him, your default expression when in his presence, and it reassures him that you’ll be okay. 

“What took you so long?” You wince and try to adjust yourself against the wall, swatting his hand away when he crouches and tries to help you. “I thought Nanami said there was only one Curse in the building.” He shrugs and you give him a skeptical look, slightly less potent than usual due to your injured state. “Toying with a Curse while I’m bleeding out? That’s a new low, even for you.” He knows you mean it in a joking matter, but the darkness that passes over his face after he laughs doesn’t escape you. It unnerves you, a little bit, trying to imagine what he was doing to the Curses when you weren’t there.

“What can I say? I was just trying to make you miss me,” he replies with only the tiniest hint of hesitation. He’s put his blindfold back on, you notice, but the subtle dip in his eyebrows tells you that he’s not revealing the whole truth. “I’m gonna lift you now–”

“I can walk on my own,” you protest, rooting a hand on the concrete and trying to push yourself up to no avail. You fall back against the wall and glare at his silently patronizing expression. “I just need a second.” 

“We don’t have a second. We need to clear out before the police get here,” he reminds you and you wave him off. “C’mon, just let me help you.”

“I can do this on my own,” you reiterate while simultaneously failing to stand. “It’s because you’re watching me. Just turn around.”

“If you wanna see my butt, just say so,” he grins and you roll your eyes. “But, really. I’m gonna lift you now, so try not to wiggle.” His arms extend to cradle beneath your legs and lower back and you’re surprised to feel the fabric of his uniform, not Infinity, when your hands try to push him away. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you stammer in panic. He pulls away immediately and his teasing expression softens. You let him brush the dirt from your cheeks with one of his hands, the other coming to cover yours on his chest. His heartbeat is unwaveringly steady, his body warm beneath your fingers. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’re okay,” he reassures you. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you now.”

“It’s gonna hurt when I get up,” you whisper back. “A lot.” 

“I know it will, but it’ll only hurt for a few seconds.” Your exhales are too uneven. He had to get you back to the school if he didn’t want you to continue losing blood. 

“Seconds? What about the car ride back?”

“Oh no, baby. We’re not taking the car.” He shakes his head and gently laces his fingers with yours. “I’m warping us back so we can get that wound taken care of faster.” His grip on your fingers tightens, a crack in his composure revealing a glimpse of his own anxiety. “I just need you to let me help you.” After a few more moments, you nod and he doesn’t hesitate, scooping you into his arms before you can even register the searing pain in your side. The world goes white for a few seconds, just as he said, but then your head finds his shoulder and the pulse in your ears quiets. 

You wake later in the day to the sun casting an orange glow through your bedroom window. As you sit up, the pain in your side is still present but significantly dulled. When your eyes adjust to the light, you finally notice the figure slumped in your desk chair, a respectful distance away from your bed. 

“Satoru.” His eyes fly open and he’s in front of you within seconds, searching your face with concern and running his thumb over your knuckles. You give him the smallest smile you can muster and he reciprocates with a blinding grin. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, adjusting his position so that your legs can swing off the side of your bed. He rests on one knee in front of you, holding one hand in his, the other continuing to caress your face. “How are you feeling?”

“A little shitty,” you admit. “But, not nearly as shitty as earlier.”

“I’m glad,” he smiles. “Need me to get you anything? A snack? Two snacks?” Your laugh feels warmer than the setting sun and you shake your head, lightly tugging him to stand up and crawl under the covers with you. “I guess this works too,” he mumbles against the top of your head, pulling you close until you’re snug against his body. 

“What were you doing in the time you were killing that last remaining Curse?” He hums thoughtfully and you swear his muscles flex protectively around your body. 

“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. For now, we both need rest.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[bedoballoons]

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~They wear maid outfits~༺}

CW: Suggestive! They are so bbg OMG, not nsfw but feels like it could go there!, Some of them call you master!

(Includes: Albedo, Tighnari, Venti, Xiao, Kazuha, Wanderer, and Kaeya!)

𑁍!!!!requests open!!!𑁍

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Albedo:

You held your breath, unable to look away as Albedo left the room he had changed in, his normal Head Of Alchemy attire left behind and replaced with a incredibly flattering maid outfit. The top of it clung to his body, showing off his curves and smaller waist, while the bottom was floofy...and rather short, he even went as far as to wear knee high stockings, each decorated with a miniature bow.

His bright blue eyes were on you as you looked him up and down...taking in every detail hungrily. The blush he had returned with was now a few shades darker and from the way his hands fidgeted you could tell he was feeling shy...maybe eager as well, but you wanted to take your sweet time...after all something this perfect should be appreciated to it's fullest~.

Once you'd had enough, you reached out your hands, grabbing him by his slender waist and pulling him flush against you, your heart racing loudly in your chest, as your face blushed. "You look so beautiful Albedo...may I? Please.." You're voice sounded slightly strained, your self control almost all used up as you waited for his response. "Of course...master."

𑁍༄Tighnari:

You smirked at Tighnari, his face red with a deep blush and his tail swaying anxiously back and forth as you tied the black bow of his maid outfit. How you'd actually got him to wear it was beyond you, but after enough times of you begging and his sarcastic remarks...here you were, pulling back to see your work in all its glory.

The dark colour of the maid outfit made his skin look velvety soft, the shorter length of the skirt paired with the tight ribbon around his waist making you swoon. He looked away from you, his heart beating hard against his chest and his ears flattening against his head, "Well...was it worth it? Do...you like me on this?" He had attempted to keep his normal tone, but you saw right through that, his nervousness showing in each word and...it was working wonders for you.

"Tighnari...you're free for the whole day...right?"

"Y-yes..."

𑁍༄Venti:

Venti twirled in front of you, the poofy skirt of his maid outfit lifting up slightly as he did so and showing the back of his thighs. Your eyes trained on the hem, wondering how hard he would have to spin to show everything...and your mind suddenly becoming plagued with inspiration for future endeavours. You were so focused on those future endeavours you didn't even notice he'd now climbed onto the couch you were sitting on, on his hands and knees as he smirked at you.

𑁍༄Xiao:

He had a light blush on his face and as he chuckled teasingly you could tell he was on the same page as you. "You look distracted...is something on your mind...maybe a certain someone..master?" His voice was soft and sultry, and that word...that name for you...sounded so perfect coming from his mouth, you couldn't take it a second longer...

Xiaos fists clenched the black and white fabric, pulling it down as much as he could in a attempt to cover himself more, however he was failing miserably because doing that was making the back of the skirt lift, revealing the tops of his thigh high white stockings...the lace on them snug against his pale skin. How the maid dress had found the way onto him, you didn't know but as you stared at his bright red face...you couldn't help but thank the archons above.

"Xiao...I..." You attempted but you'd lost your words, your mind entirely focused on every inch of the perfect man in front of you. Before you could stop yourself your hands had reached for the front of his dress, pulling him into your lap, his thighs straddling you and making your heart skip a beat. He tried to help in response but it was no use as you drained it out by kissing him, your lips crashing harshly into his as you devoured them hungrily....his quiet moans driving you mad...

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Kazuha smiled at you softly, your arms wrapped around his petite waist and his hands holding your face gently, his eyes filled with love you. The maid outfit swaying slightly with each movement he made and his lips a shade darker than usual from the amount of kissing you'd done. You couldn't help it, the way the top of the dress accentuated his collar bones and the length of the dress showed more of his thighs...it made you weak at the knees.

𑁍༄Wanderer:

He leaned in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin and more than enough to make your face blush as he whispered his thoughts to you, "You seem fond of this new outfit, please,...I'm all yours master...do with me what you will.~" His voice sounded raspier than usual, filled with desires that you simply had to fulfill and you were more than happy to...

(I use the nickname Scara here!)

Scaras face was redder than you'd ever seen it, his hands clenching the black fabric in annoyance and embarrassment, how could he have gotten himself into this mess?! The top of the maid outfit snug against his thin body and the skirt of it barely covering the top of his thighs, as if to add to the seductiveness was the small back bow choker around his neck.

𑁍༄Kaeya:

You didn't even know where to look anymore, your mind foggy with lust as you watched him pout and get frustrated with you. "S-stop staring pervert!" He shouted but you were already to far gone, your hand sliding up his thigh in curiousity and eagerness..."Don't worry Scara...by the time I'm done you'll have to take the dress off...it will be to dirty for you to wear~"

You bit your lip as you watched Kaeya carefully, his hands carefully lifting his hair up and wrapping a ponytail around the hair to make it sit in a neat bun. A few strands hanging against his face, framing his features perfectly and that wasn't even the best part as his new hairdo was actually to go with the maid outfit he had purchased just for you.

The poofy sleeves highlighting his muscular arms, the tight band around his waist emphasizing his his soft curves perfectly and most of all was the way the top of the dress drew just the right amount of attention to his chest. You tried to look away when he turned to you but it was to late...he knew. His hand grabbed your chin and he smirked as he made your eyes meet his, "Oh my...have I already caught your attention?~"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ Have a good day!

[outsideratheart]

Fear of Failure (Alessia Russo x reader)

A/N: An Alessia Russo fic after I go see Arsenal is becoming a thing.

You had felt like a failure after losing the World Cup Final. It was you job as captain to lead and as a striker to score. When the 90 minutes were over you felt like you did neither. 

The pain you felt was tough but it failed in comparison to what you felt when you saw Alessia crying. If possible, her eyes were a brighter shade of blue due to the tears she had shed. 

“Come on. Let’s go in” Alessia tried to take your hand but you pulled away. 

“I’m going to stay out here. I can’t face them” you walk away leaving Alessia stood alone until Ella comes. 

Your relationship was Alessia was very new even though the feelings you had for each other were anything but. It was the first time she had seen you like this and she didn’t know what to do. 

The lockeroom is quiet but goes silent as you walk in. You ignore the eyes on you as you head into the ice bath where Lucy is waiting for you. 

“What should I do?” Alessia asks Lotte knowing that the defender has experience with you at a club level.  

“Give her time. She’ll come to you when she’s ready” it was wise advice and Alessia listened to it. 

You came to her when she was on the coach. She left the seat free next to her and you happily slid in. You didn’t say anything but you didn’t pull away when Alessia held you hand. She saw that as a good sign. 

She thought that once you were back in England and at Arsenal that you might have cheered up but that wasn’t the case. You were focused on the champions league qualifiers. So much so that you were working yourself into the ground. 

The whole team knew it was a cruel form of punishment for the summer so they told Jonas who promised to keep an eye on you. 

The first game comes 17 days after the final. You had missed a penalty in the first half but you were relentless after that. Arsenal get the win yet you cannot bring yourself to celebrate. This is what you expected when you play a team like Linköping. You did however make the extra effort to celebrate your girlfriend’s debut. 

“Girls” you stand up gaining the attention of the entire team “to Alessia who is now officially a member of the Arsenal” 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since Australia” Lotte nudges the woman in question. 

“It is and even now I don’t think it’s real” Alessia was really begin to worry about you. Everyone you normally talk to isn’t here. Leah, Beth and Viv will meet the team in Germany. Your girlfriend is hoping that once you’re around them then something will change. 

When you line up against Paris FC you expect the same result but you find yourself two nil down until the final ten minutes. Alessia gets a goal and hopes you celebrate with her but by the time she finds you, you have the ball in your hand and are running back to the spot. Your determination is rewarded as you score in injury time. Paris then take a lead but you manage to get one back and the game is sent to penalties.

It ends with Arsenal losing and you are quick to blame yourself for the loss. It feels like yet another reason why you are a failure.

“Hey” Alessia tries to get your attention as you walk down the tunnel but she gets not response. She doesn’t give up though “Y/N” her voice is a slightly more serious tone.

“Less, please, I can’t” you cannot meet her eyes.

“Can’t what? Talk to me.” The blonde asks. You were never one to hide from her. Maybe other people but you were always open with her.

“No” 

The whole locker room goes silent. A moment that seemed to be private was being held out in the open. 

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t want to!” She didn’t deserve you to snap at her “I cannot have you look at me like I’m broken”

“Y/N, you are—“

“Not good enough, I need to be better. Please leave me alone so I can be better” 

The next couple of days you were worryingly quiet. You may have spoken to Alessia but you didn’t really say much.

When you landed in Germany you pulled Jonas aside. He told you that you would be rooming with Alessia for the duration of the trip and that it would be a trial for future away games. 

“I need you to split me and Alessia up” you told your coach.

“Y/N, I have no issue with your relationship with Alessia. You told me as soon as you knew she was joining the club and I trust you to be professional” 

“I don’t mean our relationship, god no. I mean I cannot share a room with her. Jonas I am struggling right now and I cannot put that on her”

“Ok. If that is what you think is best then I’ll put you with Lia” 

“Thanks coach”

It was hard for Alessia to see you pull away from her but you did. She noticed that you spent more time with the injured players than you did her. The only person she felt comfortable talking to about this was Lotte as she knew her well and Lotte knew you.

“I don’t get what I did wrong. I know she is struggling and I want to be there for her but she won’t talk to me, not about that anyways”

“She loves you Alessia, anybody with a set of eyes can see that, and you know that she isn’t good about asking for help”

“She’s talking to Leah and Beth though. Why is she ok talking to them but not to me?” 

“She isn’t talk to them, she is talking with Viv or at least that is what i’m guessing. Viv is the person Y/N goes to when she doesn’t know what she is feeling. Once she figures that out then she will come to you”

Lotte saw you do the exact same thing when you lost the Champions League semi final. It took you a few days to come to terms with what happened and even then you still blamed yourself.

“I hope so Lotte because I can’t stand to see her hurting and knowing that I can’t do anything to help her”

Meanwhile you were in your therapy session with Viv in one of the quiet areas, or at least that is what it felt like. The Dutch woman was patient with you and listened when you needed to talk. She didn’t ask questions unless you asked her one. 

“I failed everyone Viv. First England and now Arsenal. That hurts enough but to know that I have failed the person I love most in the world, that is not something I can handle. I feel like I’m on the verge of breaking and she shouldn’t have to deal with that”

“Have you stopped to think maybe she wants to? I know you struggle with these kind of things but this is the first time you are going though it whilst having a girlfriend. You need to stop seeing her as a team mate because she is so much more than that now”

You hated how right Viv was. You have opened up to Alessia before and she didn’t love you any less when you showed your vulnerable side.

Your girlfriend had accepted that you would come to her when you were ready and now she just wanted to be with you. Only problem is that she couldn’t find you. She had asked every player and staff member yet none of them could give her the answer she was looking for. Then she saw Viv leave one of the physio rooms and between the crack of the door and the door frame she saw you. 

For the first time in a long while you looked into her eyes and let her see the pain behind yours. You watch as she hesitated on the other side of the threshold. 

“Come here” 

Alessia all but ran you to you. Whilst you stayed seated on the physio table, she took a stand between your legs. With her arms wrapped around your neck, her fingers begin playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. 

“I’m struggling Lessi. I felt like a failure after Australia and I thought I would be able to redeem myself this season at Arsenal but I’ve failed again” 

“Thank you for telling me” 

When she leans down you don’t pull away. You feel your shoulder relax as her lips touch yours. 

“You’re not a failure. You lead the lionesses to their first World Cup final and I think that is an amazing achievement” 

How could you believe her? She was your girlfriend, never would she admit you let her down. 

“I failed you. I wanted to win for so many reasons but you were one of my biggest motivations, you always are. I wanted to win so that I could see the smile on your face as you lift the trophy like you did at the euros. Instead I watched you cry”

“You know one of the things that annoys me the most about you?” Alessia asks and you feel your stomach drop “you are one of the biggest hypocrites I know” 

“I am not” you defend yourself and rightly so. 

“You are when it comes to football. It’s both a good thing and a bad thing. You always say how we are a team, win or lose we do it as a team. After we played Australia in Brentford, Leah blamed herself. You told her that a loss is not one persons fault” 

“It’s not” 

“Baby, do you hear yourself?” 

You did hear yourself and you realise what your girlfriend was insinuating. 

“I just wanted to do good” 

“You did. You did so good. Right now though we have to process what happened and move on” Alessia knew that you would talk about your failures all night and maybe that’s what you needed. She also knew that you needed to find closure before it destroyed you. 

“And how do we do that?”

“Together” you laugh at her cheesiness “I mean it. I knew I’d learn things at Arsenal but I didn’t think the first one would be that my girlfriend doesn’t come to me when she’s hurting” 

“I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to open up to people. I don’t like people seeing me weak, definetley not you” 

At first thought that hurt Alessia and she is about to tell you that much but you cut her off. 

“I am going to try though. I don’t want to shut you out anymore. For the last couple of days I’ve missed being with you and I don’t want to feel that again. I can’t promise that I will tell you everything, not right now, but I will let you in Less” 

This seemed to be enough for your girlfriend because she pulls you up so she can give you a proper hug. 

“I’m here and you won’t push me away again. I won’t let you” Alessia’s voice was adamant and you never argue with the blonde when she used that tone. 

“I love you Alessia. Do you think we could go away somewhere just the two of us? We have a couple of days off when we get home and I need some time away from football. I’m in desperate needs of some quality Alessia Russo time” 

“You know what? Now that I think of it, I am long over due some one on one time with you. How about we go get some food then you can come my room, the room you will be moving into, and we can look at some places?” 

You agree with the forward and take her hand as you leave the room. When the two of you walk through the campus restaurant everyone notices the closeness between you and how your hands are intertwined. They also saw a smile of both of your faces, a smile that they were yet to see in Germany. 

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Cooking Together - (W/ America, England, Canada, Russia, France) x GN!Reader

Summary: Cute little scenarios where you cook together with some of the nations. 💕

Contents/Possible Warnings: A lot of food mentions, fluff, like a ton of fluff, slightly suggestive/flirty dialogue and implications (nothing outright not sfw), major emphasis on how England cannot cook

America (Alfred F. Jones)

There were both pros and cons to the situation you found yourself in. The pros were that the kitchen smelled nicely of apples and cinnamon, but the cons were that the flour had only been out for a few minutes and it was already everywhere. Still, the smell of cinnamon was nice; so you had that going for you.

Despite the state of the room around you, your boyfriend was not deterred in the slightest. In fact, he was practically bursting with excitement, humming a song as he formed the dough that the flour had been used for into a pie crust. A fresh apple pie was the end goal, and he couldn't be more thrilled. The way those handsome, baby blue eyes of his were shining with pure glee had you melting.

"I haven't baked in so long!" He exclaimed, grinning at you while you worked on the pie filling in the bowl in front of you, the scent of nutmeg in the air now joining the smell of cinnamon. "Hold on," He told you suddenly, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. "You've got something on your lips." With that, he kissed you sweetly, smiling into the kiss as his lips moved against yours.

"There we go," He spoke, pulling away once he was done, looking satisfied with himself. "All taken care of." You chuckled, your cheeks a light shade of red. "Did I really have something on my lips, or did you just want to kiss me, Alfred?"

"Both. You tasted like sugar, literally." He laughed, kissing you again, much quicker this time. "It isn't even done yet, but you might be sweeter than the apple pie is, babe." He teased with a small smirk.

"If we hurry up you can have both, you know."

You didn't need to say that twice. He did go fast when he was motivated, after all, especially with an awesome two-for-one deal. Needless to say, you both shared a lot of kisses that tasted like sugary, cinnamony apples that day.

England (Arthur Kirkland)

As much as you didn't want to admit it because it sounded harsh, Arthur Kirkland could not cook or bake anything without it going horribly wrong, even when it came to the dishes he had been 'perfecting' for years now. Fish and chips? That would burn. Beef wellington? Overcooked and inedible. His infamous scones? Ash. If you weren't used to it by now, the results of his cooking would scare you.

Speaking of scones, he tried to make them at least once every month or two, and surprisingly, nothing had yet to catch on fire. It made your heart break without fail every time you saw him look at his failed attempts, though.

"Arthur? Love?" You approached him one night, having already gone out to the store and bought every ingredient you'd need from the scone recipe you'd found online (you weren't going to risk using his. It might very well have been cursed.) "Do you want to bake with me? It could be an unplanned date night." You smiled at him warmly. You were his biggest soft spot, and he always gave in to those smiles of yours.

"Of course, dear." He smiled back, placing the book he had been reading down. "Oh! We should bake scones, I haven't made any in a while, and you love my scones, don't you?" You nodded, your smile faltering a bit as you remember the last time you tried his scones. They were burnt, of course, but you still managed to put on a smile and tell him how good it was in a little white lie.

"I was thinking the same thing." You responded, leading him to the kitchen to show him that you had already prepared everything. Every measurement was made and ready, all he had to do now was put it in a bowl, mix, and then bake. Easy as that. Or you hoped.

"This must've taken you a while, love." He observed, smile widening at the sight. You were so sweet to him! He never liked the whole measuring part, and here you had done it all for him. He could swoon over just how much he loved you. "Let's get started!" He exclaimed, overflowing with excitement.

With you guiding him along, things came out more than edible, they looked delicious! Instead of a hardened, blackened mess, the scones looked almost exactly like the picture in the recipe as you pulled them out of the oven.

"Look, Arthur!" You grinned, showing him the tray before setting it down. "You did it! These look bakery-worthy—" You let out a surprised gasp as he pulled you into a celebratory kiss, soon melting into it.

"Aha! Now France can't say I don't know how to cook!" He beamed, causing you to begin laughing. If he was happy, then so were you.

Canada (Matthew Williams)

Mornings with Matthew were always something you looked forward to. Waking up in his arms, combing your fingers through his soft, messy blond hair, and giving him his well-deserved 'good morning' kisses. It was a pure domestic bliss that you wouldn't trade for anything else in the world.

"What do you want for breakfast, hon?" He asked softly, still cuddled up next to you in bed. Another great thing about mornings with him was his cooking. Every day without fail he made you something mouth-watering good. Whether it was something simple or more complex, everything he made showed his love for you, even if cooking seemed to be a bit mundane to some people.

"Pancakes? Ooh! Blueberry pancakes." You replied happily, a small laugh leaving him in response. He blushed slightly, finding your enthusiasm both endearing and adorably cute. "Let me help you make 'em," you insisted with a grin. He laughed again before leaning into you, unable to resist kissing you when you were this adorable.

It didn't take long for you to find yourselves in the kitchen, hugging him from the side as you watched him cook. The blueberry-filled batter you had made turned out amazingly, and you were eager to see the results of your work in the form of masterly crafted pancakes.

When they were all done and covered in Matthew's favorite maple syrup you both sat down to eat, talking about whatever crossed your minds as you ate your breakfasts and sipped your coffee. It was moments like this why you savored and enjoyed your mornings with him, these moments where you two engaged in quality time and you were reminded just why you had fallen in love with him.

Oh, not to mention you also liked how his lips tasted like maple syrup when you were kissing him afterward, too.

Russia (Ivan Braginsky)

Before he met you he was used to doing everything alone, including having meals. He had no one to share his favorite dishes with, and eating was always a lonely activity when the seat next to him at the dinner table was empty. When you came along things weren't so isolating anymore.

Cooking dinner together had become a staple in your relationship early on, the act being used as a way to spend some quality time together in a simpler fashion. It was something that you two used to bond when you were still getting used to each other. Cooking wasn't just making a meal for you, it was a display of priceless non-physical intimacy.

"That tickles, Ivan," you giggled, feeling him nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as you sauteed the meat and stirred the sauce you'd need for the meal you were making, the tall Russian towering over you from behind as he held you gently. "You're really affectionate today, дорогой."

He let out a happy hum in reply, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. "You're cute today, мое солнышко. How could I not be?" You smiled at his compliment before grabbing a spoon and scooping a bit of the sauce inside of the pot in front of you, turning around to face him. "Open up," you said, moving the spoonful toward his mouth and letting him taste what you had made.

"Very good," He told you after tasting the sauce. "You're starting to cook like a professional, дорогой. I don't think I've ever had a better beef stroganoff sauce." You blushed, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" It really must've been good if he hadn't tasted a better version of a dish he had eaten countless times over the decades.

"You're being cute again," He chuckled, a warmth growing in his chest at the sight of you. He loved you and these moments together so, so much.

France (Francis Bonnefoy)

French cuisine wasn't known for being regarded as some of the best in the world for no reason. Living in Paris with your boyfriend who was fond of dinner dates led you to witness firsthand why France was seen as a leader in the culinary arts. As much as you loved going to a fancy restaurant and sipping wine while you ate with Francis, you wanted tonight's date to be a bit less extravagant.

All you wanted was to cook with him at home and share a simple night over a home-cooked meal. Luckily, your boyfriend wasn't opposed to the idea in the slightest.

"This is romantic, oui?" He questioned with a pleased smile as he poured you a glass of wine (nothing too expensive, per your own request). "A night in with mon amour. What could be better?" He smiled, handing you your glass. "I'm a chef magnifique, so you'll be served food better than any restaurant can offer."

He wasn't exaggerating, either. As your date commenced, you were pleasantly surprised to see how talented he was when it came to both cooking the main course and baking the dessert of raspberry macarons. The only downside was that the macarons were harder to make than they looked.

"Mine look weird compared to yours," you observed, looking over to see his work. "I think I keep piping in too much jam..." He looked over at yours, nodding in agreement. "Oui. But they'll still taste good, non?" His gaze then traveled to your lips, and he smirked. "You have jam on your face, mon amour."

He leaned in, kissing you lovingly, making sure to get rid of that raspberry jam he was talking about. You tasted beyond sweet, and that wasn't just because of the macaron filling. "You know, I wouldn't mind tasting something else tonight other than the food we made, chérie~"

"Let's eat first, Francis," you replied with a playful roll of your eyes. He was a flirt, but he was still yours.

[glassrowboat]

🎲 I am always one for enabling

4. A kiss atop the head.

One Kiss, Blue Fish. Furina.

Word count: 900+

One kiss for her, one kiss for the little gold colored statuette. A habit now so ingrained into your routine as keys pressed into your palm on your way out the door that it was simply instinct to lean down for both of them. Even after the first layer of golden plating started to wear down and revealed a greenish hue beneath.

Oxidation. Something you have had the chance to grow familiar with as the old statues of dogs in the park tucked away between the building of the capital, all beared proof of their noses being scratched and petted. The sight of it alone had you shaking your head, a smile always fighting to turn your lips up ever so slightly.

This habit had all started from a single joke. One comment, that's all it took after Furina had brought home the mini version of her (err- or the Hydro Archon that she was) that now turned to being part of your daily life.

Your fingers had been gliding over the reward as you heard her debating over what to do with it after coming home. Her gloved fingers clutched onto it in a way that failed to hide how they shook just from the sight of the thing alone.

To place it proud and center on the mantle, she pondered. Maybe even bury it away in the guestroom that you only ever used once. Long forgotten after Furina had grown accustomed to sharing a bed with you. Or, simply, toss it out like it was trash?

To that, a startled and over dramatized gasp left you. Hand to your chest to truly sell that bit of how hurt you were at such an appalling suggestion. “You would dare toss the image of my lover in the garbage?”

So, after your ploy of pretending it mattered more to you that it truly did and a spat that was more playful than anything, you placed the mini Furina on the mantle. Tall and proud. Placing a kiss to its little head, you had turned back to her, a cheeky smile on your lips.

A habit set in stone from there on.

One a certain someone clearly wasn't a fan of as her cheeks were puffed out, and a pout graced her features just like that day.

“If you're just going to give out two kisses, you might as well give the second one to me too.” She insisted, head turned away from you as she held up her nose.

It spoke levels about how comfortable she was with you. Willing to give attitude and sass she would normally be afraid anyone else would look at and think of the Hydro Archon she once represented. But there was no need for that here. Not with you.

“That so?”

Taking a strand of hair, that same one that stuck up in the air no matter how much she tried to tame it in the mornings, you twirled it around your finger. The shades of blue and white were almost hypnotizing to watch even when her head bounced up and down to nod.

“Yes! It only makes sense you would give me, your lover, your affection instead of that thing.”

“Now, now, my little mermaid.” You teased as her gaze fell on the golden trophy, eyes surely puncturing the cheap plating covering it. “I can give you two kisses from here on out if you really want.”

Her small little giggle filled the air, seeming appeased with this outcome. For now.

“And I'll give the little replica two on the way out, too.”

She called your name, a high-pitched whine that accompanied her tugging ever so slightly on your sleeve. The way she always said that truly did capture your attention, more so than anyone else who's ever used it before as you bent down to her height.

Eye to eye as you asked “yes?”

“If that's what you're so intent on doing, then you'll have to give me three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Wrapping your arms around her waist, the frills of her outfit tickled your arms as she moved in a little closer. The shuffle of her heels heard on the hardwood floor as Furina moved into your hold. “But of course, three kisses.”

If it makes her happy, then it's more than worth it.

“Then take this from the top."

Furina grabbed your keys off the mantle, pulling them away from the statuette you placed them next to when she had first called for your attention. Rattling in her hand as she placed them in yours.

“All the way from the top? Next thing you know, there will be a clapperboard telling me when I can and can't start helping you bathe.”

“T-that’s not important right now.”

Before she could pull away, to hide her blushing cheeks behind a false attitude and layers of hair she hoped would block her face away, you pressed your lips to her hairline. The perfume Neuvillette gifted her after her departure from the Palais Mermonia, only welcoming your touch even more.

Drawing your in closer as you muttered “one kiss, two kiss, three kiss,” with every peck to her forehead. Only a small part of you is resisting the urge to continue teasing her and say ‘red fish, blue fish’ to finish your little poem.

Alas, that can wait another day.

Just like how tomorrow you plan to give three kisses to the statuette just to see Furina pitch another fit.

[kingofthering]

Pecco/Marc | 700 words | Spielberg 2024.

Finding Marc on the other side of his motorhome is the last thing that Pecco expects when there is a knock on his door about half an hour after he's come back from dinner with his team.

He's still wearing the same outfit he had earlier during the press conference, Gresini blue two shades lighter than the mug of coffee that Marc picks up and puts back down on the island counter as he starts rummaging through Pecco's kitchen.

"Sorry, what are you doing here?" Pecco asks from where he's still standing in the entrance of his motorhome, Marc not needing any kind of invitation to barge in.

Marc keeps moving things around —the basket filled with apples and bananas, the hand towel Pecco uses to clean things around, the pack of biscuits that only Bezz likes but that Pecco always keeps here anyway— and putting them back in their place of origin.

Pecco turns around when Marc moves to the couch, his hands diving into the spaces between the cushions.

"Marc, you can't be here."

At that, Marc chuckles. He folds the fleece blanket that was previously a mess and sets it back down on the armrest of the couch. "Why? You're expecting someone?" Pecco swallows, tries to not let anything appear on his face, probably fails. "Or do you worry about Valentino finding me here? Scared of what he will say or just what he will think?"

"Don't," Pecco says but it sounds weak even to its own ears.

Marc smiles. Shaking his head before he starts to make his way to Pecco's room.

Pecco follows.

Valentino is the last person Pecco wants to think about right now. The thought of Valentino knowing about them gives Pecco shudders.

Of course Marc knows.

"Marc," Pecco tries again. It does feel more assured but it's not enough to grab Marc's attention now that he's on all fours on the ground of Pecco's bedroom, eyes looking under his bed.

Even in a situation where Marc would be forced to listen to him, Pecco doesn't even know where to start. Marc played so many cards during the press conference earlier and Pecco isn't sure he has processed them right, is never sure they're even playing the same game, using the same rules.

Physically touching Marc would either results in him freezing or backing out. That Pecco knows.

He stays in place, one shoulder against the door frame, his arms crossed in front of himself, his eyes never leaving Marc.

Pecco loses sight of him when Marc goes to the bathroom but it barely takes a minute before he's out, holding something in the air as he walks back to Pecco.

"Forgot something the last time I was here, had to get it back for sponsors stuff" Marc explains as passes his hand through the loop of what Pecco can now identify as a watch.

While Marc is looking down to fasten the watch around his wrist, he's at the perfect height and the perfect distance (close, too close) for Pecco to be looking at the expanse of his neck, smooth tan skin highlighting the line of his tendon there.

Pecco thinks the last trace of yellow hues must have left Marc's skin a good handful of days ago. He remembers the look on Marc's face when he caught a glimpse of purple in the mirror while he was getting dressed, Pecco sitting in his bed with the sheets pooling on his lap.

Pecco had immediately blushed, feeling like a stupid teenager for sucking a hickey into Marc's skin. It had been a heat of the moment thing, Marc there, his neck strained against the pillow, Pecco's teeth grazing his skin and Marc making the most enticing and encouraging of noises.

Facing the mirror on Pecco's dresser, Marc had lifted his hand to his neck and pushed his thumb against the bruise. Pecco might have held in breath, ready for Marc to be annoyed with him.

"I'll see you in Spielberg," Marc had said, back then.

Now, his watch fastened to his wrist, the two of them standing so close to each other Pecco can recognize every flagrance from Marc's perfume, Marc says "I'll see you tomorrow."

[we-are-maladaptive]

Scraped Knees & Silk Sheets

Prince!Shouto ♡ Maid!Reader - Chapter 1 out of ??

-> You've always been kind, wanting nothing more then to spread warmth into a cold castle. When you were a child, you had given some of your kindess to a boy in need. It was because he recognized your kindess, that you live to tell this story today.

fiction contains: fluff, angst, romance, reader is almost executed because endeavor is a piece of shit, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, assassination, pining, shouto is a little too in love with reader, shouto is also an extreme romantic, reader is almost killed again because, you guessed it, endeavor is a piece of shit, pining, izuku + bakugou are shouto's right hand men, little bit of violence chapter contains: nothing extreme worth mentioning, shouto n reader are so cute omgomg PROLOUGE

COMMENT ON THIS POST TO BE ADDED TO THE NEXT CHAPTER'S TAGLIST.

chapter word count: 4.4k

Flowers fall salubriously over the skies of Venora, the sun’s warmth spreading over the fingertips of anyone sauntering outside to perform their duties for that day…or to any of the many children that decided to skip around their village knee-level of the citizens with flowers in their hair, engaging in anything that excited their blooming curiosity. Venora is one of- if not the most flourishing of countries, being outstandingly large, and having one of the most capable and efficient militia. It is a strong belief here that everyone has their purpose in life, and everyone has their own “talent” or gift given to them to serve that purpose. Many people are aware of their gifts from an early age, some without, and have hairs turning silver and still letting life lead them in whichever direction the wind blows. All in all, it’s a safe country to live your hopes and dreams in.

Besides, you learned the punishment for breaking some of the laws can be quite severe, and said punishments are severe enough to strike terror into the citizens who consider tampering with them.

“Really?? We get to visit the palace??” A little child squealed into their mother’s lap, that child just so happened to be you. Playing princesses with your friends was entertaining, yes, but it couldn’t compare with the real thing. It played over and over inside your feeble brain, the diamond chandeliers, the gold-plated statues, the doors, the throne room. Just the thought would make any insouciant child like yourself shake with anticipation.

“You mustn't make a scene when we get there, dear. As much as I understand your excitement, the palace can’t be mistaken to you as a place of fun and games, it’s quite serious. Your father is attending a meeting, so you and I get to stay for a while to attend the holiday. If you’re lucky, you might be able to attend the ball with me.” Your mother almost immediately regrets the last few sentences of her speech, now having to deal with a squealing 5-year-old who cannot control their emotions any longer. After a long sigh, she scooped you off her lap, walking over to the bedroom to place you into bed. There were paintings with stars and sparkles adorning the ceiling above your bed, and you convinced your mother to help hang stars from the faded paint spots. The dim lighting in a shade of dark blue truly did make the stars sparkle, including the ones hanging in your room and the stars that dance together in the sky. It made you wonder if they had the same paintings on the palace walls, maybe even more. With a kiss to your forehead, she tucked you in your bed and tried to step away, but failed due to you reaching out your tiny hand to grab onto her yellow sundress. “Do you think I can be a princess? Like the ones in the big palace?” “I'm sure you can, and I bet you’ll be the prettiest princess ever. However… I'm afraid princesses get beauty sleep, and at this rate, you’ll turn into a gremlin with baggy eyes!” She smiled when your body immediately went lax, and you flopped onto your bed sheets and snored as if you’d been sleeping for over a hundred years. With that, she left your room.

Your father was in a state of alamort, putting in as much effort as his soul allowed him to move your family higher status and reputation, but to no avail. His majesty had barely spared a glance at him, and he hoped that this ceremony would be an opportunity to bring his family higher. Your family was by no means struggling with money or bringing food on the table, more so struggling to maintain the reputation that's been withheld in your bloodline for generations.

Nobility was a hard bargain. Your surname was well known in the village you lived in, but it didn’t advance any farther than that. The family’s worth compared to that as a bystander you’d see in royal events, just slightly over a commoner, nothing to ever be placed near the grand royalty of the Todoroki bloodline.

The annual Crescent Moon ceremony was taking place in just a small amount of time, a celebration to symbolize family, fertility, empowerment, and to appreciate life’s lavish graces. It most certainly wasn’t the most important of events, but the meaning behind it gave reason to be very…lavish, and thriftless. A perfect event for a child to witness, as it romanticizes royal life to the utmost degree.

So, in the restless dreams of a 5-year-old girl, you’d be sitting on a throne adorned with diamonds, and a version of yourself that you would assume is an older you. A crown so shiny that if angled towards the sun, would blind anyone looking in your direction. It sits atop your perfectly placed strands of hair, not a single one out of place. Maybe if you thought hard enough, you’d be able to visualize a chromatic ring wrapped around your 4th finger, followed by the lips of a handsome prince pressed against the front of your hand.. is there a prince at the castle? Even a little girl can be bashful sometimes, maybe he’d be like the books, with a prodigious sword attached to his hip and weighty boots that slammed against marble floors, signaling his arrival earlier than his presence could. So.. speaking like a 5-year-old girl, this place is gonna be super duper awesome!!!

This… however..was not very awesome. It'd been almost.. 5 hours now? The sun is still high in the sky, burning down at the wooden carriage you rode in. It was hot, and your mother said that if you whined one more time about the heat, she’d make sure you’d get none of the palace desserts when they got to the capital of Venora, also known as Solaris. It was the diamond of the country, and where the tremendously large castle stays solemn. It’s where the royal family of Venora has resided for years. There are neighboring castles, much smaller, reserved for the high nobles, and your mother promised you’d get to see them when the carriage reached Solaris. Some were located on the way to the main castle, but some were buried deep in the wispy green forests, lakes, and hills that were outspread in Solaris, practically smothering the land. The only exception being the main village, which is said to be the largest city in the country. Your mother said that it’s not the best or most habitable place to live in. Tourists, and merchants, all of them practically suffocate the city, leaving little to no room for long-time inhabitants. If you want to live close to the castle, it’s best if you build your own place.

“Are we there-”

“Don’t even start, missy.” Your mother quipped before you could finish your childish statement.

“But-”

“You know, princesses are very calm and patient people. They ride in royal carriages all the time, simply waving at passersby. How could you be a princess if you can’t even make it to the castle without whining, dear?” Comparing you to a princess is the only way she knew would always get you to behave, it always worked well, proven by the silence the rest of the trip.

However, the mind of a little girl never stayed quiet, and as you peered out of the lights that the wood would allow, you could see your father’s carriage right in front of your own. It seemed that he was a quiet man, always thinking, but never speaking. Unless it was towards your mother about mundane things, he was always in his study, thinking. You couldn’t fathom what he could be up to, what could be so interesting or demanding that a simple nobleman as your father would be locked up inside the silence of his stone-walled office.

Sometimes at home, you’d see fathers - laughing and playing with their children, but that was never the case with yours. In fact, he never really spoke to your mother either. In contrast, your mother was as warm as a white fur blanket, like the ones she said were common in the palace, but rare and expensive to find in your own village. She always spoke with you, seeing as you had no other siblings. Speaking of which, you asked her about that idea once, having siblings. Quickly your mother hushed you of the idea, saying that it wouldn’t be happening anytime soon, almost looking hurt at what you said, so you never mentioned it again.

Having many children was a miracle at this age, why was she so against it-

The sound of faded cheers and chatter dragged you out of the deep reflection of your thoughts. Are we there yet-?

You slammed a hand over your mouth when you realized you had said that last part out loud, slowly turning your gaze over to your mother, who narrowed her eyes at you. Yet the look on her face quickly softened as she sighed, and announced; “Yes, we are here!” Even she couldn’t contain her excitement, yet she quickly had to compose herself and grab you, as you were just about to leap out of the carriage. “We are in Solaris, not near the castle yet. I can’t let you go out into the village, it’s filled with people for the ceremony and you’d surely be trampled. If you want to view the commotion, simply watch through the carriage.” She simply grinned at you as you whined, and pressed your face to the carriage glass.

The sun was still in the sky, but much lower. You had made it to your temporary estate, and you were astounded at the sheer size of the exterior. It was nearly thrice as big as your regular estate, with gardens on each side with their own unique plants, your favorite being the dazzling lilies on the left side, and the charming gladiolus on the right. There was even a butler waiting for you, and you scampered up to him with a smile, which he gladly returned to you. Your mother was, discreetly, also amazed at the size, simply internalizing her emotions, with nothing but soft upturned lips and a slight sparkle in her eyes. Your father, though, had the exact opposite emotions. He looked rather displeased, evident with the slight scowl on his face, what could he be so upset about? You decided to tug on his suit pants, directing his scowl at you, but he loosened his angry face at the sight of your frown.

“Why are you sad, pa? This place is so big!” He lost his scowl completely, opting to look at you with a neutral face instead to not upset you anymore, and walking towards the front door of the estate, lamenting to himself instead “It could have been bigger.”

The inside was just as impressive, ancient paintings with gold plated frames, silverware decorated in intricate patterns and designs carved into the metal. The thing that caught your eye the most, was the stunning piano in the foyer of the estate. You had half the mind to climb the piano stool, and mash your little fingers against the keys, you were almost successful too, if it weren’t for your mother holding the collar of your dress. …

Much to your mother’s delight, the length of the trip ended up giving her a tuckered-out 5 year old. This was good anyway, the ceremony was tomorrow evening, and they wouldn’t be leaving the estate for another 3 weeks, anyway. This part seemed to be the only thing that pleased your father, maybe it was because this gave him more time to talk with The King himself.

Your mother had a very difficult pregnancy regarding your birth. Infact, the birth itself was a blur in her memory. From what the midwives had told her, the bleeding was what almost caused her death. Luckily, her having held onto the strings of consciousness for just a few moments longer was what caused her to recover just enough for the healer to arrive intime. Due to the heavy bleeding, it was highly encouraged, almost demanded of her, that she never conceive again.

This had angered your father to no end. He had at least one child, but it wasn’t a male..an “heir” to his legacy. No matter how many times you had promised him to carry on his legacy, he wouldn’t listen. His anger got so severe, he had almost forced himself onto your mother- completely disregarding her safety, all for the chance of an heir. From what little bit of morals he had left, he stopped.

This was the reason why he was quite desperate in his attempts to raise his family’s status and reputation, but in this day and age, a daughter and a title can only get you so far. He watched as his once peers outgrew him in their own rankings, no longer speaking to him and throwing away their companionships as if it had only been brought together by a scroll, waxed stamp, and word from the king.

Deep down inside, he wanted to be able to disregard people like that- and throw them away. He’d never admit it, though.

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but the whirlwind of activity never slept on a day such as this one. Your estate was over a mile away from the bustling city, and yet the cheers could be heard as loudly as the chirping birds outside the windowsill. Your mother must have heard it too, as she appeared in front of your doorway.

“I'm glad that trip wore you out enough to have you sleep in early, I'm afraid that was all the amount of soundful sleep you're going to get until the cheers die down in a few days.” She smiled at your little pout, walking over to you and gently pushing your fists away from your eyes as you rubbed them.

“Nonetheless, I bet you’ll be glad to hear that we get to enter the palace early, so it’s best you get yourself ready now, that is if you want to be princess material.”

“…Do I get to pick out my dress?”

“Of course you do.”

The sun was now peeking above the horizon, almost as if it was hiding from the beautiful chaos to come. The fear collides with the sky in an ethereal array of colors, the exact same array of colors as your dress. A shimmering light yellow, something lighter and purer than golden honey, but just as divine. It’s adorned with coral-like pink colored designs, and the prettiest golden shoes to go along with it. A dress, truly, fit for a princess.

The maid finished the final touches of the curls in your hair, so defined that they bounced on your head whenever you jumped in delight, much to the maid’s displeasure.

The sun had finally crept from its hiding place, now sitting lowly in the sky. It’s still well before noon, and you were stepping outside the estate with your mother’s hand holding your own. She wore a dress similar to your own, but fully yellow. Your father stood in front of you both. He was..suspiciously quiet, to say the very least. It was one thing to be in your own head, but his eyes seemed dark, like he was thinking about one thing only.

However, he snapped out of it when he realized the carriage wasn’t coming as soon as he expected it to.

People with high reputations get invited to the castle far far earlier than commoners get the chance to even get close to it. The earlier you get in depends on your status, and clearly your father thought he’d be escorted by now, and his pride would not allow him to go back inside to wait. Even the butler was starting to get concerned, it had now been over an hour waiting outside. Your mother had tried to persuade him 30 minutes ago, but was met with a rather harsh lecture, and didn’t dare to press further. He wouldn’t allow you two to go back inside either.

Finally, after about an hour and thirty minutes, the carriage arrived at your estate. Luckily the sun still wasn’t high enough in the sky, and the air still had a slight chill to it, so you didn’t overheat too much, it was just a little bit too warm for your liking.

The carriage was beyond anything you’d ever seen. It was laced with gold and diamonds beyond comparison to anything you’d ever seen. It was lavish, and the seats were laced with cold silk, much to your delight.

There were no words to describe the castle, none at all. Well, if you could explain it in one way… large. It took nearly 30 minutes to just get out of the carriage, due to the huge lineup at the side entrance. That was another thing your father hated, that he wasn’t “noble” enough to use the grand front entrance. You couldn’t even register his anger though, as you stepped out of the carriage the only thing you could think about was the sheer size and elegance at the massive structure standing proudly before you eyes. You clutched onto your mother tightly, as it felt as though you’d get lost if you so much as moved an inch from her body.

This was the moment you separated from your father, as though he had other plans, and stuck to your mother, heading towards the ladies’ hall, a portion of the castle where all the noblewoman and their ladies-in-waiting sat together for tea, from what you heard. It was strange though, why didn’t your mother have her own lady in waiting?

When inside the hall, you followed you mother to the room where the commotion was coming from, and were surprised by the sheer elegance of the woman inside. Did they go to galas all day? The ballgowns and tiaras they wore told you so, there was no way they could sit in such attire all day without dying.

You were almost intimidated by them as the silence built up and your mother walked in with you in her grasp. However, a breath of relief washed over you as some of the women smiled at you and your mother with a courtly wave, and a small portion just simply decided to ignore your existence, and go back to whatever conversation they were having moments prior.

Your mother seemed even more relieved as you did, surely feeling the anxiety building up about her own place in the room. She was older, but still had the girlish tendencies of wanting to fit in.

One of the noblewoman was very welcoming, opting to stand up from her loveseat and make her way over to your mother with a warm smile and curtsey. She even smiled down at you, which made your heart leap at the thought of being greeted by a princess.

“I see you’ve come right on time, and you’ve brought us a gift, too.” notioning at you, “she’ll fit in well with all of our children, the little girls out in the garden. It’s safe here, if she wants to play with them.”

Your mother curtseyed back, “I’m sure she’d like that, do you want to go [Y/N]?”

“Mhm!” The lady in front of your mother giggled at you, and notioned her head towards the entrance of the side garden. Your mother nodded at you, giving you permission to go, and so you skipped off.

The garden was filled with children playing and flowers of all colors blooming from every direction. Some children opted to go a little too high on the large garden swing, others chased butterflies, which is what you did. You got along well with a blond-haired blue-eyed girl, her hair tied up in pigtails and wearing a bright blue dress with gold accessories on it. She had some freckles on her face too, as she proclaimed to be “the professional of catching butterflies”. She taught you how to do it as well, and ushered you to catch the white and red colored butterfly, what an interesting color.

So you followed it, as it fluttered away into the forest-like part of the garden, with trees for what felt like miles. There were no children here, except for you and the childish butterfly slipping from your grasp at every chance.

Well, you thought you were the only child, until you heard crying from a distance.

A boy, about 8-9 years old, was sitting under an oak tree with tears in his eyes.

You hated it when people cried, you always ended up crying with them, but you’d try to keep your composure for the sake of this boy.

A light tap on his knee had him flinching, looking up at the person who had just dared to disturb him and his privacy. Almost regretting it, as he didn’t want to scare the intruder with the horrid scar on his face, but to his surprise, you didn’t flinch or widen your eyes at all. He was even more surprised at the person who was in front of him-

It was just a child.

“…What do you want?”

“Why are you crying?”

He didn’t answer your question.

“Is it because you're lonely?” “..No.”

“Are you nervous about the ceremony? I know it’s pretty scary, but can’t you believe how big this place is? As long as you have your parents by your side, you won't get lost! What’s your name?”

You didn’t know who he was, he was sure of that now. Giving away his last time would reveal who he was. He’d never had an outsider talk to him like a normal person before, and he wouldn’t admit it, but he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the informality, in contrast to the formality that he was forced to drown in all his life, up until now.

“..Shouto. This place is big..but I am used to it.”

“Oh! Do you come here often?? Oh- and my name is [Y/N]!! Unlike you- I am TERRIFIED! I feel like I might get lost here! Like I might get sucked up into a painting or something!”

“..You can’t get stuck in paintings.”

“Of course not silly! I’m just joking!”

“Oh.”

“Uhm.. is it because of your injury? Does it hurt?” you pointed at the scar on his eye. Clearly this wasn’t the best thing to have said, as the boy looks like he’s going to cry again.

“No.. it doesn’t hurt..well..not in that way I don’t think.” His voice is wobbly.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry Shouto. I hope it doesn’t hurt at all. When you grow up, though, I’m sure people will respect you alot with that super duper awesome scar!

“…What?”

“Well..your scar, it looks cool!”

“It..does?” He looked at you like you had grown a second head. He’d never been told that his scar looked cool before. When the incident happened a few years ago, the only thing he was ever met with was horrid looks and fear.

“Of course it does! It’s like you battled one of those big dragons and came back to tell the story! Or- or you're an amazing knight who battled an entire army!”

“A dragon..an army.” He wasn’t frowning anymore, and maybe it was just your imagination, but you swore you saw his lips turn upwards just slightly, thinking about the idea.

“Yeah! Even better if you saved a princess along the way!” That striked an idea to your head, and you began to climb up the tree he was curled under a few moments prior. Only making it to the middle of the tree, you started to faux cry.

“Heeeelp me Shouto!!" The dragon is going to eeeeatt me!!! I’ll become dinner to a hungry dragon!!!”

He looked at you, “There’s no dragon?”

“You have to pretend, silly.”

“Oh, okay.”

He tried his best to climb up the tree, and to your surprise, he did it alot better than you did. He grabbed your hip and pulled you out of the tree, placing you back on your feet.

“You saved me! You are a true heeeero, knight Shouto! The king will surely reward you for your greatness!” with that, you attempted to flash him your best princess smile, you’ve been practicing.

He giggled at you, which nearly surprised himself. It’d been years since he genuinely smiled, let alone laughed at anything.

His laughter was cut short though, with the sound of someone calling your name, in a rather panicked fashion.

“Oh… I have to go..or my mama will be soo mad at me, Shouto.”

“That’s… okay.” He frowned. “You're going to the event, right..?”

“Mhm!” You beamed up at him.

“..What’s your family's name?”

“Uhm.. my last name?”

“Yes.”

“Ohh! It’s [L/N].”

“I see. [F/N],[L/N] is it?” He thought to himself for a moment, then looked at you.

“Yep! That is mee!” You smiled once, again this time he smiled back.”

“[Y/N]!!!” The voice that was calling you got louder this time, startling you both.

With a final wave and a “Goodbye Shouto!! I’ll see you at the ball!” you ran back in the direction you came from, or, where the voice came from? You hoped you were running in the right direction.

“..Goodbye..[Y/N].”

Now he was left by himself again.

Shouto had his own fears and insecurities, all bundled up inside his broken heart and he didn’t have the strength to piece them back together alone. The people alongside him didn’t do much to help, not even his own prestigious family, the ones who were always supposed to be incharge and handle the country with diamond crowns on their heads.

He knew that the same neglectful family would come looking for him soon after they found out he wasn’t isolated in his room like they had thought he had been doing.

And he didn’t think that the one who would even try to piece his heart back together would be a girl 4 years younger than him. That she would make him happy.

Shouto Todoroki was happy with you, and you alone. Even if it was just for a moment, he remembered it well, and he would for the rest of his life.

AUTHORS NOTE: aerhsbdv eliusbfdv awilsubdf fkdbv its 12:34am please i want to be tumblr and a03 famous i put my whole constanceussy into this

IF YOU WANT TO BE APART OF THE TAGLIST FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT ON THIS POST!

[frogwithgun]

Omg what is happening guys?

Y'all loved part one so much lol

So screw it part two here!

Anyways enjoyyyyy

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

"Dad come on! You've been sitting here forever." Nanako said, attempting to push Geto off the couch. Why was he on the couch anyways?

Great question.

See, Geto had the rare opportunity to meet the CEO of Six Eyes Inc.. Where he failed to recognize that unmistakable face and charm. And then got asked for his number. Which would have been a dream come true for the man.

The girls know from all those hours he'd spend watching interviews about Gojo Satoru that he had a celebrity crush of some sorts. So he should have been elated to give out his number! And he would have as well.

If he hadn't told him that he doesn't give out his number while working. "No. Let me die here." Mimiko came along and together the twins were able to push him off the couch and onto the floor. Still he didn't move.

"Dad come on! You need to go to work." Now they both tried to get him to sit up. And it wasn't easy to move him. So they just gave up. Making Geto hit his head on the hardwood floor. "Ow! Alright fine." He grumbled.

And that is how he found himself standing in front of that corner store wondering if he took a wrong turn. The store had been redesigned entirely. It looked expensive now. Jesus did they all want modern looks?

He brushed it off and walked inside. Stepping behind the register and into the break room. At least that was the same. The air conditioner still screamed in protest. The lights still flickered slightly. And the furniture was still broken.

Geto set his things down on the table carefully. He knew that slamming them down would make the table collapse. Whether that was from experience or not he wouldn't say.

He turned around and jumped. "JESUS CHRIST!" He cried and put a hand over his heart. The man who had snuck up on him looked far to formal to be there.

His hair was a almost perfect blonde. And he wore glasses that suited him well. His eyes were a shade of hazel that looked beautiful. And he wore a suit for some reason. The strangest part was that he had a gray suit, with a blue undershirt, and a yellow speckled tie.

Just what was going on? The man didn't smile. Nor did he laugh. He simple sighed. "Not Jesus. Nanami Kento." Geto nodded. Still slightly jumpy. Now he really was suspicious. "Uh hi? I'm Geto-" "Yes I know your name." Rude much? Geto thought to himself.

Nanami seemed to know what he was thinking. And chose to ignore it. "I am your new manager. Your place of work has been bought by Six Eyes Inc. and I have been chosen to oversee it. You report to me." This had to be some dream.

Or maybe it was a joke? Yeah that was probably it. Geto laughed and shook his head. "Alright, you got me. Hilarious." Geto started to gather his hair into a half bun. "Come on man, let's get to work." Nanami raised an eyebrow.

Then Geto stopped and mimicked him. "Stop that at once. You think I would joke about this?" Geto looked around the break room. Making a vague gesture around. "I mean, yeah." Nanami looked at the break room in disgust.

Then Nanami sighed. "You are not what I was expecting." He muttered. Geto nodded. The gauges in his ears were probably strike one. And the fact that he had lip piercings, an eyebrow piercing, and a septum piercing.

Of course that combined with the fact that he had a couple tattoos was probably what Nanami was talking about. "Are you in a gang or something?" Geto laughed and shook his head. "No. Just have a lot of tattoos." Nanami sighed.

This was going to be a headache.

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

Yeah this is definitely a headache.

It had only been an hour into his shift and he's already had three customers complain about the quality of certain products. "Ma'am I just work here. I don't make the products." Despite that, none of them listened.

The only thing going for him was the fact that Nanami actually defended him. Unlike his previous manager. That was something going for him at least.

And Nanami happened to be rather observant as well. He could tell when a customer was about to blow up or when they were about to try and trick Geto. Which he did not stand for at all.

Nanami is terrifying.

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

"So Six Eyes inc., what's that like?" Geto was trying to make small talk with Nanami. And found it very difficult. "The CEO is a manchild and impulsive. He acts like he's 12 when he's 28. It's like he never grew up." Nanami said exasperated.

Geto nodded. I just wanted to know what it was like, not your whole life story. But ok I guess. "Oh that sounds bad." Nanami nodded. "It is. He's so immature and reckless. Honestly the only reason the company hasn't collapsed yet is because of me." I doubt it.

Geto felt like Nanami might hate Gojo. Just a little bit. "So why do you work there?" Nanami looked at him. Face blank. "Money." Well, at least he's straight forward? Nanami gave a slight huff and leaned his head back.

Still terrifying.

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

Ijichi jumps as the doors to the office slam open. A disheveled Gojo holding them open with a gleam in his eyes. "Ijichi!~" The man in question gulps. That sing song tone of voice is never a good sign. Not even when it's said in such a cheerful way.

Gojo strides into the room with a slight bounce in his step. "The store is mine now! So that means," he drums his fingers on the desk as he plops down into his plush leather chair, "he's my employee!"

Again, poor Ijichi cannot tell where this conversation is going. "Yes?" Gojo laughs and springs out of his chair. Striding over to Ijichi and tossing his arms around him. "Yes! That means I have an excuse to talk to him!" Because just talking to him like a normal person would be so hard. Ijich thinks to himself.

But he says nothing. To afraid of the white haired man to say anything other then "Yes sir." Which Gojo takes happily. "Now I just have to figure out how to get him in here." Ijichi looks at the still open doors.

So close, yet so far. "Ijichi! Don't run now! We were just getting started!~"Oh God he's trapped.

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

Three grueling hours later and Gojo has concocted a 'master plan'. And Ijichi is still staring longly at the now closed doors.

Gojo happily sits at his desk. Eating a lollipop. As he often does. In many interviews he has admitted to freely having a sweet tooth. He's more famous for it because of the amount of candy he eats in interviews.

Seriously it is a major problem. "Alrighty then! All I have to do is call him into my office and bada bing bada boom, we start dating." Of all plans Ijichi has ever heard, that one is probably the worst.

Scratch that, definitely the worst. "Sir do you even know anything about him?" Gojo puts a hand over his heart. "I am wounded! Of course I know about him! He's 6'3, has two daughters, works at the corner store I bought, and is the one."

"How do you know he has two daughters?" Gojo smiles. "He has hair on his work uniform. I imagine they like to hug him a lot. And the hair colors just didn't match his." Now Ijichi is just disturbed. "How long have you spent looking at him?"

Gojo waves his hand and turns away from Ijichi. "Oh just two or three years." He mumbles. And Ijichi just decides he'd rather ignore it then say something. "Sir you need to talk to him." Gojo rolls his eyes. "My good looks will talk for me."

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

His good looks did not in fact talk for him.

He called Nanami and told him to bring Geto to his office. And now they are just staring at each other. Not saying a single word. And it's starting to look like Gojo might actually have to try.

"¥2,000 says Gojo fails and fucks it up." Nanami whispers to Ijichi. Who shakes his head. He's sure Gojo won't fuck it up. After all he's Gojo-

"You stupid prick! How could you?!" And he spoke to soon. Nanami holds his hand out to Ijichi who reluctantly hands over the money. "No I just meant that I could never because they're a waste of time!"

Oh Gojo is really fucking it up.

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

And here is part two! I'm sorry if this isn't written very well lol. English is very hard and I'm not the best with it. But I do hope you enjoy this shitty part two.

Lots of love tadpoles 💚💚💚

[thebellearchives]

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘

~ Vash the Stampede ; Trigun Stampede

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : in the aftermath of Knives stealing another plant, you run after broken-hearted Vash to let him know you’ll always be by his side

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : vash x gn!reader, angst, very vague mentions of corpses, blood, and injuries

‧₊˚ a / n : currently fighting a writers block so i’ll offer you this old drabble 🙇🏼‍♀️ also yes i’m obsessed with comparing vash to the sun and sky let me be )’:

You and your thomas had barely been able to leave the crumbling town. You were on your knees, hands grasping the sand underneath and your lungs trying their best to go back into healthy shape. When your eyes finally dared to reach out to the night sky, the first thing they spotted was a blond man. He was muscular, and was wearing a strange suit that looked like it could’ve been his second skin, white and with strange blue patterns. Thousands of blades emerged from his back like tentacles, some were struck directly into the sand, lifting him up from the floor, and others went up into the sky, wrapping around the city’s plant.

Your mind had gone blank, and only two words were in it, repeating themselves endlessly while you stared directly at the man. Millions Knives.

He wore Vash’s face, but still he looked so different. His hair wasn’t bright like the sun, it was a lighter, dead shade yellow. And his eyes weren’t like a cloudless day, they were a cold ice desert, ruthless and merciless. He landed carefully on top of a big car that rushed away from the town, some of the blades retracting back into a hooded typed of clothing. He didn’t see you, and neither did the people that were with him driving. They just went away.

“Vash” your voice whispered, breathless as your mind went back to the blonde who had tried with all his might to stop his brother and failed “I need to find Vash.”

Your body acted on its own. You ignored your aching limbs and the bleeding cuts in your skin, running across the debris. It didn’t take much time to find a group of survivors. The sound of crying, coughing and panting hit your ears like a sandstorm. You almost tripped when you reached them, searching frantically for the blond, but when he was nowhere to be seen you searched for the town’s mayor instead. Making your way through the group of wailing people and dragging your feet towards the person furthest away, you panted desperately.

“Paul” your voice raised, but he didn’t turn around “Paul!”

Your throat gave out in protest, making you cough.

“What” he replied hastily.

“Wh… Where’s Vash?!” again, he didn’t reply, but patience wasn’t exactly your strongest suit “where is he?!”

“I sent him away. He’s the reason this whole thing happened to us. He’s the reason.”

“W-what?” you blinked in confusion, your thomas’ steps caught up to your side.

“He’s the reason!!” he yelled at you now in frustrated desperation, despite him being turned away and hiding his face it was clear he was now sobbing “if he hadn’t set foot in the town none of this would’ve happened.”

“What are you taking about?!“

“He's the Humanoid Typhoon after all, isn’t he? Everywhere he goes he brings chaos and destruction.”

“He saved your life! Multiple times!”

“And he destroyed the town!”

You gulped, staring at him as if burning him alive with your pupils only was possible.

“You’re an asshole”

“What?”

“You’re an asshole! Millions Knives destroyed your town, not Vash!”

“They’re the same.”

“You are the same!” you screamed at him this time, thinking about how Vash must have felt when he sent him away and blamed him for everything “you are the same as everyone else, this is why Knives hates us.”

You turned around and mounted your thomas and patted its side.

“Find him.”

Without a seconds hesitation, your thomas started running away from the now ruined town, corpses, cries and the lingering sand still dancing in the wind.

Humans are the scum of the planet. Knives words echoed through your mind. They’re all the same.

For a second you thought maybe he was right. Everyone blamed Vash, even when he tried his hardest to help. Even when they knew about Knives, apparently. Tears fought to make their way out, but they stopped when your heart did too. A figure appeared in front of your eyes against the breaking down in the horizon.

“Vash!” jumping off back into the ground, you ran towards him.

“Stay away, please.”

“What?” you almost muttered the question, he stopped walking and you caught up to him quickly.

“Stay away. If you follow me you’ll end up dead.”

You choked up on the words you wanted to let out, he tried to keep walking away.

“Wait, please.”

His shoes stopped over the sand yet again, but it was clear he was conflicted about moving on.

“Please listen to me, Vash” he didn’t make a move, and you took it as a good sign, walking up to him “even when the people in the town blamed you, I defended you.”

He was still silent, your fingers then grabbed his red coat and forced him to turn around and look at you. When his sad eyes finally met yours you couldn’t stop all of the thoughts from falling off your mouth.

“Even if they did, I didn’t. I’m on your side, I’ll always be. Even if whole world turned against you, I will be beside you, I will defend you” you grasped the lapels of his red coat, watching as his eyes widened and his lips partly opened in surprise “I will defend you with my life if i have to.”

He shook his head lightly.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Blinking slowly, he bit his lip.

“Why?”

Your heart started to beat faster, tears prickled the corners of your eyes yet again. The words that burned your throat refused to get out, you couldn’t say them yet.

Cupping his face in your hands, a painful smile made it’s way to your lips.

Because I love you.

“Maybe some day, you’ll find out.”

[fruitfulcreations]

Sit and Stay With Me (Genji Shimada x Reader)

Summary: The reader needs a break from chaos and goes to their favorite spot to watch the sea. Little do they know, Genji is watching them.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,224

A/N: Also posted on Ao3!

You felt the floor beneath you shaking, sending you skyrocketing off your bed. Of course it was just another explosion; you really should be used to them, but Junkrat and firecrackers should never be in the same sentence.

You grabbed for your noise-canceling headphones and shoved them onto your head, trying to do a few breathing exercises to calm down your racing heart.

After a few minutes of silence, you exhaled a ‘soft’ finally, only to hear another earth shattering boom, this one closer than the last.

“Are you fucking—” You tried to calm down, breathing sharply from your nose as you heard Junkrat cackling down the hallway. Rolling your eyes, you left your room promptly and made a beeline for the bay doors.

The bright sunlight down upon your skin, the warmth hitting you as soon as you wandered past the doors. Once you clambered up the set of stairs leading to the cliffside, you let your body relax.

That’s how you found yourself in your happy place: the cliff overlooking the sea in Gibraltar. It may sound cliche, but you could get lost staring at the sea; the salty yet pleasing smell and wonderful breeze would always ebb your worries away.

Gibraltar’s sea was possibly the most beautiful you’d ever seen. It was a lovely, dusky shade of blue, the sunlight reflecting gorgeously off it. If only you could stay here forever… you could get used to that.

Your muscles relaxed as you hugged your knees to your chest, a soft exhale escaping your lips. The booms were now a distant memory, your thoughts slowing as you lost yourself in the sea’s aroma.The silence was welcoming after the stress of earlier. Your eyes felt heavy, struggling to keep them open.

“I thought I’d find you here,” a deep voice rumbled behind you, jolting you awake. “Did I scare you?” Although Genji’s voice was placid, you swore you heard him holding back a laugh.

Your cheeks burnt fiercely and you tried to shake the blush growing away. “How many times do I have to tell you?! Don’t sneak up on me,” you playfully chastised the ninja.

This wasn’t the first time he’d snuck up on you when you weren’t paying attention; he thought it was hilarious how jumpy you were, while you had other thoughts. Eventually, you two would bully each other about it.

“I’m sorry.” Despite his apology, his tone was anything but apologetic. “Shall I leave and try again?”

Snorting, you failed to not roll your eyes. “Sure,” you said, your eyes glancing up at him. “Or… you can shut up and come sit with me.” You’d already moved over to make a spot for Genji, shifting until you were comfortable.

Genji sat silently beside you, watching the sea. He didn’t understand why you found it so beautiful, but then again there was so much to you that he still didn’t understand. He was learning it, though, bit by bit.

“It sure is beautiful, huh?” You mumbled, a dopey and serene smile playing on your lips.

The corner of Genji’s lip flicked up and leaned into you, his cool body pressing against your arm. “Yes, it is… there are many beautiful things in the world, Koibito*.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, but you tried to ignore the way it fluttered. He’d been calling you that for a few weeks now and you still had no idea what it meant. Any time he used it around his brother, Hanzo would simply roll his eyes.

You lightly punched his arm. “Of course you’d say that. You’ve been all over the word.” Smiling, you leaned closer against Genji. “I’ve seen some of them too, you know.”

A loud laugh exploded from Genji. His cybernetic hand brushed over yours, brushing your digits. “You’re right, I have been all over the world.”

Your heart leapt into your chest again, your attempts to stop your blush from returning amounting to nothing. The only thing you could do was stare at Genji, slack jaw and red, his cool helmet doing nothing to ease the burn.

“But none of them compare to you,” his deep voice, soft, if only for you, sent vibrations against your skin.

All you wanted to do was kiss him silly. The thought made you dizzy, hitting you like a freight train. But you couldn’t deny his sweet words touched you deeply. Your body had a mind of its own, your head leaning against his, your body close, the other hand reaching up to touch his helmet. His touches mirrored your own, his long fingers starting from your cheek and stroking down your jawline and collarbone.

His touch felt like fire, starting deep in your belly. You couldn’t help but crave it again. And again. And again. You’d waited too long for this moment and you never wanted it to end. You’d never assumed he’d go for you; you’d heard the stories that he was a player and a ladies man.

In reality, you didn’t care what he considered you. Life was far too short to worry about things like that, you’d learned it the hard way. Your hands came up, clasping shakily against his helmet in a pitiful attempt to remove it.

Genji once again chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His cold hands reached up and covered yours as he helped you remove his helmet. Once hidden golden eyes glanced up at you, darkening as they took you in. His perfectly sculpted lips tilted in a smirk.

“Like what you see?” He asked, his tongue gliding against his lower lip. He leaned in closer to you, his body shifting until it was nearly flush with yours, the touch almost like an embrace.

Your body felt hot as your mouth went dry, unable to speak.Any other day, you could go back and forth with Genji, sassing each other. But seeing him like this? You could only nod and bite your lip.

Your hand cupped his scarred cheeks, fingers tracing against the scar that adorned his face. Swallowing, you voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.” Genji leaned in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss and closing the space between you both.

Your arms wrapped around Genji’s frame, feeling his rough and calloused lips press against your own. Your teeth clashed against his, the heat of the kisses leaving you a weak and dizzying mess.

“We could do this here…” He finally broke away to let you breathe. Genji’s eyes shimmered with untold desires, taking in everything. “Or we can go back to mine.”

“Yours,” you all but barked out, already in the process of jumping to your feet. You heard Genji chuckle underneath you. "Shut up," you warned him, unable to hide the blush moving down your body. God you needed him -- no. You wanted him.

Genji picked his helmet up and clicked it back into pace. You tried to hide your disappointment, but he caught it and smirked your way.

“I need my hands free,” he said. Within seconds, he’d picked you up bridal style and made a dash for his room. He wouldn’t tell you, but he lavished the way you clung to him.

There were numerous noise complaints that night. 'Payback', you'd tell them.

[deadheaddaisy]

Dealer's choice!

Cute/funny - "Do you know that your eyes actually have three different colours?" "You're very close."

Sweet/romantic - because physical touch is the other's love language and they deserve all the love

Go as the muse moves you! 🥰

Since you answered my ask so swiftly, and I managed to get this one out in an hour - a possible record for me! - here goes!

Hoshi leaned back and avoided the foot that was heading for her face, missing it by millimetres. “Too slow,” she teased, whirling in a standing cartwheel to swing her own foot at Malcolm as they let the capoeira direct their limbs in a freestyle series of kicks and punches. 

“I wouldn’t like to make contact with your face anyway,” was his rejoinder, “bare-foot or not. It’d hurt, and we don’t want that.”

“Yep, and smelly feet aren’t my thing,” she riposted, a sly smile on her face as she turned and jumped, kicking out from a standing position.

“Smelly feet?” Malcolm stopped for a moment, outraged - long enough for her to hook a foot around his ankle and pull, sending him tumbling to the mat. 

Even as he went down, she was moving, pushing her shoulder against his leg, bringing it up while she threw her weight laterally across his torso and lifted, pinning his shoulders in a cradle move. Although he tried to kick out, she managed to hold him down for three seconds before releasing him, turning swiftly to lay her entire body the length of his and grab his wrists, pinning them beside his head. 

“Got you down fair and square that time!” she panted, her grin of victory blazing bright. 

Malcolm grinned back up at her. “Square, yes. Fair?” he winked, managing to raise a sceptical eyebrow at the same time. 

“Hey, not my fault if you were distracted by me insulting your feet!”

He laughed. “I’m not sure another opponent would take you seriously if you said their feet smelled,” he teased, content to let her pin him for the moment. 

Laughing in return, she lowered her head and bumped his nose with hers. “I’ll be sneakier against other opponents,” she chuckled. “Besides, I haven’t gone up against anyone else I want to get down to the mat and hold there.”

“Is that so, Ensign Sato?”

“It is indeed, Lieutenant Reed. And as I recall, you promised to let me kick your - ‘arse’, was it? - at least once a session. So I’m taking advantage of that.” Hoshi winked, satisfaction in her gaze. 

He smiled and tugged gently at his wrists, with no real intention of getting free. It was fun when Hoshi insisted on pinning him so she could feel in control despite his superior strength. He’d never let anyone else use this hold on him.

Then she focused on his eyes, leaning over his and moving her legs to straddle him so she could get closer. “Did you know,” she said conversationally, staring at his irises from millimetres away, “that your eyes actually have three colours? A greenish-grey, some pale gold, and a little amber around the pupil. Oh, and a tiny speck of - hmm, maybe blue? - in your left eye.” 

Malcolm chuckled. “I did know,” he told her. “But you have to be very close to see it. Otherwise they just look grey. Or sometimes green, depending on the light.”

“Well then,” she smirked, “It’ll be our little secret. Unless Phlox gets up close and personal with your eyes, I guess.” Her eyes twinkled at him, and suddenly he twisted his wrists out of her grasp, surged upward and rolled so she was the one pinned. 

“Hmm, let’s see,” he murmured, straddling her and getting up close to her eyes in turn. “Shades of brown, ranging from dark chocolate to black coffee and a bit of amber. Nice.” He booped her nose gently with his own. “Also some shades of irritation, I see,” he teased. “Can’t help it if I want to be on top, Ensign. It’s a command imperative.”

“God, stop it, you’re so full of nonsense!” she exclaimed, trying to buck him off, but failing. Trying to look annoyed, she started giggling as he booped her nose again, then released her and rolled off, jumping to his feet and holding out a hand to help her up. 

“Let’s take this nonsense back to my quarters, then, shall we? I think the time is ripe for some massages and extra cuddles, minx.”

Taking his hand, she jumped to her feet in turn, and bumped his hip with hers. “You’ve got it, hero. Let’s go.”

[five-rivers]

Seascape Chapter 1

AO3

Same kind of premise as Baroque and Turpentine, but AU to them. I'm going to do this one in chapters.

.

After they finished sparring, and Danny was laying in the snow, trying to get his energy back, Frostbite floated several feet overhead, looking at something down past the edge of the island.  

“Are you, um,” said Danny, breathing hard even though breathing was at least somewhat optional for him, “are you looking for something?”

“Not precisely,” said Frostbite.  “More… examining something.  I believe your color vision is better than mine.  Would you mind checking something for me?”

Danny peeled himself out of the very comfortable snowbank and flew up to hover next to Frostbite.  “What is it?”

“There,” said Frostbite, pointing.  “Do you detect any difference in color in that direction?”

“Um,” said Danny, blinking, squinting, and tilting his head to one side.  “It’s a little bluer than usual, maybe?”  He turned to look in other directions for comparison.  “Yeah, it’s bluer.  Kind of that sea-blue-green whatever color.  Is that a bad thing, or…?”

“Oh,” said Frostbite, beaming.  “No, no, it’s excellent.  Excellent news.  I thought I might be deluding myself.”

“So… what does it mean?”

Frostbite blinked at Danny for a moment.  “Ah, yes, I forget that you are young enough that you have never seen the turning of the age.”

“Uh, yeah.  Yep.  I can confirm that I do not know what that is.”

Frostbite nodded.  “It is… something like changing seasons, only less predictable.”

Less predictable did sound like the Ghost Zone.  

“So, is it going to be, like, green-blue season or something?”

“To be entirely proper, it is a cyan age,” said Frostbite.  “Although some people also call it a blue age.”

“And things will just be… cyan?”

Frostbite chuckled.  “There are a great many more changes than that.  I think you will like this age.  Cyan ages tend to be… peaceful.”

Danny tried to imagine a color change making any of the ghosts he knew less violent, and failed miserably.  “How’s that?”

“It’s, hm.”  Frostbite scratched his chin.  “It can be a little difficult to explain all at once.  I believe we managed to retain some sculptures and murals from the last cyan age that you can see.  In the meantime, I will do my best to explain as we return.”

“Sure,” said Danny, with a shrug, starting towards the village at a sedate pace.  He was trying to be, well, cool, but his curiosity was well and truly piqued.  

“An age,” said Frostbite, after a moment, “is like a season.  But it is also a change to how the Realms work, how they are structured, how they behave.  The ambient ectoplasm color is something of an indicator, showing the character of the age we are turning to long before any major changes.  Green ages, of any shade, tend towards the chaotic, diverse, and individualistic.  Some would call them natural.  Others say they are merely anarchic.”

That did match more or less with what Danny had observed of the Ghost Zone and the ghosts.

“You mean, it’s not always people wanting to fight all the time?” asked Danny.  

“Well,” said Frostbite, scratching the back of his neck, a character tic he’d picked up from Danny, “not all the time, Great One.  But, yes, the turning of the age comes with altered appearances and instincts for most ghosts, and although the core of who we are does not change, much else does.  For example, red ages engender very hierarchical, stratified societies with a great emphasis on obedience.”

“That doesn’t sound great,” said Danny.  

“Red ages aren’t all bad,” said Frostbite.  “But I imagine that going from a green age to a red age would be quite a shock, especially for you.”

“What?  Why?”

“Because despite the nature of green ages, you tend towards attempts to be social, even to fit in, to some degree.”

“So… a red age would make me, what, more social?”

“You might find it difficult to resist the instincts of your new form, yes,” said Frostbite.  

Danny grimaced at the reminder that, somehow, they were going to get new forms.  Whatever that meant.  “But what about blue ages?  Cyan ages, I mean,” he corrected himself, wanting to use the right words.  “What do they do?”

“Specifically with regards to society… City states and democracies are very common.  But with regards to everything else…”  He paused, thinking.  “Most ages align with one or more, how should I put this, human conceptions of the otherworld.  To fantasies.  Red ages tend to appear hell-like, to use it as an example again.  One persistent fantasy is that of a world under water.”

“Like the Drowned Quarter.”

“Very like the Drowned Quarter,” agreed Frostbite.  “But vast.  An ocean that encompasses all the Realms.”

Danny… wasn’t sure how that would work.  “So, kind of like it is now, but… wetter?  Floating in water instead of in the air?”

“No,” said Frostbite.  “There is a reason I wanted to show you the murals.”  They had reached the village again.  “Come, Great One.”

They entered the cave complex that also hosted the Infi-Map and a number of other artifacts the Far Frozen protected, but peeled off the main tunnel, taking a smaller one that Danny had never been down before.  There was a square cave at the end of the tunnel with a statue in the center, each of the cave’s three uninterrupted walls covered by a large mural made of gold, ice, and stone.  

“Here we are,” said Frostbite.  “These were made in the last cyan age, which was quite some time ago.”

“Huh,” said Danny, walking around the statue.  It was made of ice and a bit bigger than Frostbite, with wide, flipper-like paws and a substantial tail.  It looked a lot like a cross between a polar bear and a sea lion… and maybe… Danny glanced back at Frostbite before turning to the murals.  

All three were seascapes, icy ones, with huge glaciers both above and below the water.  Beings like the one in the statue swam through waves, but they weren’t alone.  Mermaids and mermen with seal-like tails and strange patterns on their torsos swam alongside them.  Overhead…

“Is that another ocean in the sky?” asked Danny, who was half sure he was interpreting the picture correctly.  

“It is,” said Frostbite.  “It is not a constant feature, but it is quite common in cyan ages.”

“Right, right.  Um, are these…?”  He hesitantly pointed at the polar-bear-sea-lion beings.  

Frostbite chuckled.  “Yes, that is what we yetis become.  In fact, our tribe’s history indicates that we were first founded in a cyan age, which is perhaps why we enjoy them so much.”  He sighed, happily.  “Ah, and it may be of more interest to you to note that those are halfas.”

“Wait, what?” asked Danny, head whipping back and forth between Frostbite and the mermaids - merpeople? - Frostbite was pointing at.  “Really?  How?”

“Halfas are much more common in cyan ages,” said Frostbite.  “For one, natural portals in the ocean become much more common, and historically sailors–”

“I get it, I get it,” said Danny, quickly.  “But… you said for one?  Are there other reasons?”

Frostbite nodded.  “Many halfas born in cyan ages do not remain in contact with the Realms when the age changes.  They, ah, in cyan ages the transformation halfas use is changed quite a bit.  So, when the age changes, they can choose to stay human.  Most do.  But when the age changes back, their descendants tend to return, called back by the water.  I do hope they do this time as well.  It has been a long time indeed, and I think it would be good for you.”

“Uh huh,” said Danny, who, if Frostbite hadn’t said something super concerning, would probably be asking dozens of questions about the families.  “But what do you mean my transformation is going to change?  Am I going to be stuck?”

“Not at all!  Not at all!” said Frostbite, reassuringly.  He patted Danny’s back.  “The ones I knew transformed by removing their skin.”

“What,” said Danny, not at all reassured.  

“Their- Not in the way you are thinking, Great One.  They would have a sort of garment, usually a coat, which they would put on when they wished to transform.  It would… meld with their skin and change them to the form you see here.”  He pointed at the murals again.  “Then, to become human again, they would take it off.”

That sounded awfully familiar.  Something Sam mentioned, maybe?  Something to do with seals…  He shuffled through his eclectic mythological knowledge.  “Selkies,” he said, finally.  “That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it?”

“That was one word that was used,” agreed Frostbite.  “But you can see why it would be very easy for them to simply… not wear their coats again.”

“Because they didn’t want to be changed.”

Frostbite nodded.  

“That’s, um.  That’s.  That’s a lot,” said Danny, looking at the murals.  He… genuinely didn’t know how he felt about all this.  He wasn’t sure if he could say he liked the Ghost Zone as it was, but it was familiar, at this point, and…  “Frostbite, how is that going to happen for me?  I mean, am I just going to transform one day, and then I’ll have, like, a sealskin coat flop off of me?”

“I confess, I’m unsure,” said Frostbite.  “As I said, few halfas ever stayed through the end of the age.”

“Cool,” said Danny.  “That’s… cool.”  Maybe he’d just have his suit be his ‘coat’ or something.  Hopefully.  He could be lucky sometimes.

“But as a positive for you,” said Frostbite, clearly sensing Danny’s lack of enthusiasm.  “You won’t have to deal with ghost attacks anymore, yes?”

“I mean, the portal is still going to be there, so…”

“Very few will go through it,” said Frostbite, confidently.  “In addition to no longer being able to fly–”

“Wait, what?” asked Danny, that little casual piece of information much more upsetting to him than the skin thing.  “I won’t be able to fly?”

“Many powers are altered in these changes,” said Frostbite, apologetically.  “But, again, as ghost becomes mer, attacks on your town should stop.  Very few of us can stand to be on dry land during cyan ages.”

“But I won’t be able to fly?”

Frostbite gave him a cautious pat.  “I’m afraid not, Great One, but swimming is very similar.”

Danny, somehow, had doubts.

[skullfacedlady]

Get to know me

Thank you for the tag, @physics-of-one-piece 💙 I've always wanted to do one of these

Rules: Answer and tag 6 people

Favourite colour: Navy blue. Blue has always been a favourite of mine. Half of my clothes are actually some kind of shade of blue, mostly navy.

Last song: Život je nekad siv nekad žut by Bajaga&Instruktori. This song will always live rent-free in my head and heart, especially. This is a song I would listen to as a kid, I would go wild and sing along every time my parents would put it on the stereo. It's a song very dear to me. Quite possibly my favourite.

Currently reading: Heartless Hunter by Kristen Ciccarelli. I know nothing about this book but I promised to @avogigi that I would read it, so here I am.

Currently watching: I'm switching between a lot of shows and watching them all at the same time (kind of insane ngl), and those are Breaking Bad, Dexter, Narcos, and One Piece.

Currently craving: I craved Mazalice (Balkan food), and thankfully, I caved in and ordered them. Best decision so far. On a more broad term and not in terms of food, I crave my electricity in the house back and no lasting trauma from the fire.

Coffee or tea: TEA ALL THE WAY. Get coffee out of my sight. I can't drink anything that does not taste good to me, and believe me, I have tried so many ways to make coffee enjoyable to me, but I failed each and every time.

Of course,no pressure tags @dreamer-in-red @frillsinadress @luluisgreendraws @indydonuts @kermitothefroggo @anathema-xeliah

[valdeznation]

we're all gonna die (valgrace)

valgrace week prompt 1: soulmates

jason shifts in leo’s hold, breaths deep and even, his cheek pressed against his husband’s warm chest.  leo’s own heart thuds below his, the sound so similar to the stuffed cat with a beating toy heart his mother got him for his second birthday weeks before she left.  he wants to speak.  he wants to silence the thoughts he can hear grinding in leo’s mind like the gears he so often gets his fingers caught in at work, wants to toss a stick in and make them stop.

“do you think i’m going to die?” he whispers after a few minutes, arms tightening around leo’s waist as he exhales shakily, knowing and dreading the answer.  jason is used to death, has even been able to accept leo’s – just not his own. 

leo, for his part, doesn’t react.  there’s no tension in his body, only love and tenderness that presses around jason in the form of strong thighs bracketing his hips, stronger hands weaving through jason’s curls, twirling, braiding, silent above him for what feels like hours.  “yes,” he says finally, words almost lost in the mass of golden hair he’s got his wonderfully soft lips pressed against, the vibration of his voice trickling down jason’s spine, equal amounts kind and horribly cruel.  it’s a gentle confirmation of his mortality, and jason knows he’s right.  leo has never been one to sugarcoat, opting instead to gently lower the thousand-tonne truth onto the shaking shoulders he is now soothing with warm hands, hands that have created innumerable things but failed at crafting his lover a longer life.  it is and forever will be his biggest regret.

if he were stronger, if he hadn’t been sick for so long, if his muscles weren’t eaten away and dying, he would kneel before leo and beg for a lie, but his hands, which once slew titans, can’t hold a mug of coffee, much less change the course of the river of his husband’s nature.  jason has heard worse, borne worse, survived worse than this, and yet, and yet, and yet.  

“please don’t give up on me,” he breathes, shoulderblades twitching under leo’s fingers as he manouvres his chin to rest on leo’s chest, faded blue eyes framed by a halo of blonde lashes twitching as they meet the fire swirling behind amber-stained brown.  maybe in another life he was the sky, cold atmosphere reflecting infinite shades of beauty for everyone to see but never getting to see it for himself, a decoration.  maybe in another life leo was the earth, rich soil replete with life, drinking in rain and sunlight and summer air and making with it everything worth seeing, trees and birds and the tinkling laughs of children.  maybe that was what they were.  maybe that was why they were not allowed to have each other, hold each other, till death did them part.  maybe they were made to be apart.  

“i couldn’t,” leo breathes back, the mint-and-coffee breath curling around his cheek tugging jason from his thoughts.  hands rake through his hair again, shaking now.  everything under him shakes, even the single tear on leo’s thick lower lashes.  his voice is catching in his chest, jason can feel it, a tremor shooting through his ribs as his adam’s apple bobs up and down.  “i couldn’t, jace.  not even if i wanted to.  not even if i tried.”

he wants to reply, wants to say something sweet and grateful and smile and sit up to kiss his other half, wants to feel whole in his arms and slot their noses together and feel leo’s stubble scratch against his, but any hope of speaking dies the second the tear falls, leaving a barely-visible track that glitters on his bronze skin in the dim lighting of their bedroom.  he hasn’t seen leo cry since they were sixteen.  he hates that it’s his fault.  

“i couldn’t,” he says again, mumbling like the words hurt to get out, like the same chronic ache that’s settled in jason’s body is starting to infect him, too.  “even after you… a-after…” his voice fades and falters, whatever peace he had displayed earlier about this situation quickly dissipating into tangible pain thickening the air around them, and jason is the sky, and he reflects this, so it is all they can both see.  all they can both feel.  “even after you die, i won’t give up.”  a gentle thumb traces his lower lip, callouses catching on chapped skin, easily-soothed pain taking edge off of the all-encompassing agony.  

everything is shaking and leo is the earth, soaking in anguish and morphing it into pixie dust that decorates his cheeks as more tears fall.  “i’ll look into every doorway and wait for you to walk through it,” he whispers, a terrible sadness in his eyes.  it is heavy, so much so that it settles easily into the grooves that were cut out for it in leo’s bones so many years ago.  “i could watch you die in my arms tonight and still hope you would be in the kitchen burning waffles come morning.”