#I will go over it with pen when I have the time

[my-castles-crumbling]

flight - may 4 - black brothers - jegulus - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 491

Sirius: I forgot, I can’t pick u up from ur flight. I hav a thing. But someone’s coming, dw. Can’t wait to see u, reggie.

Scowling, Regulus stared down at the screen of his phone while standing awkwardly in the Arrivals area of the airport. He was trying not to feel too upset, but he’d just run away from home, for God’s sake. The least Sirius could do was get him at the damn airport.

He knew it was about time. Sirius had stopped talking to their parents years ago. It’d taken Regulus until he was nineteen to finally sever those ties, but now that he had…all he wanted was to pretend that part of his life never happened. To never talk to Walburga and Orion again. To start over. 

He so wished he had done this sooner. Taken Sirius up on his offer years ago, stayed when the Blacks had moved back to France, or at least left after he’d realized that things were even worse without Sirius. He’d left so much behind: his brother, his friends, his school, and…what could he call him? He wasn’t his boyfriend, not really. But he still held such an important place in Regulus’s heart, even after three years of no contact, that he couldn’t help but hope…

Regulus: Fuck you, Sirius. Who are you sending? And when? I’ve been waiting fifteen minutes. Sirius: Patience, young padawan. Ull see.

He snorted angrily and resisted the urge to stomp his foot like a toddler in the middle of the airport. Instead, he turned this way and that, hand still on his giant suitcase, looking for an empty bench to sit on while he waited.

It was when he turned that he finally saw him.

Walking toward him, a piece of torn-out notebook paper in his hand with the word ‘Reg’ scrawled on it in what looked like three different pen colors, there was no mistaking who it was, even after three years.

“James,” he breathed, completely forgetting his luggage and staggering one step forward.

James, however, seemed to have full control of his leg movements, because as soon as his hazel eyes met Regulus’s, he began to jog, covering the ground between them and pulling Regulus into the best hug he’d ever felt, the safety of being in James’s arms again making him nearly light-headed. 

“Hi,” Regulus choked, refusing to let go of the other man, even after a socially acceptable time had passed.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” James murmured into his hair, pressing his lips there over and over. “So fucking proud.”

Finally, Regulus pulled back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…I missed you, so much,” he said hesitantly, trying to explain, without actually explaining, that James had never left his thoughts. Not for a moment.

But James’s answering smile was dazzling. “Me too, love. Let’s get you home, where you belong, yeah? We’ll figure everything else out later.”

Regulus could only nod.

[gyubakeries]

HtBDaSTGYM presents: Method 1 - Love Potions

test subjects: kim mingyu x f!reader

word count: 2.9k

contents: college au , friends to lovers , love potions , lowkey witchcraft , verkwan cameo , cookies as a plot device , crack treated seriously , this is just Silly , the slightest bit of angst , inspired by descendants 1

verification: Trust Me Bro

sources: thank you serena ( @gotta-winwin ) and ally ( @lovetaroandtaemin ) for helping me finish this fic with your motivation + inspiration 🩷

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seungkwan, focused on his assignment due in four hours, startles in his seat when you plop down onto the chair next to him, a guttural groan leaving your lips. he’s pretty sure the librarian shoots a dirty glance in your direction, followed by passive aggressive motions towards the bold ‘keep quiet’ sign in the library.

“what did kim mingyu do this time?” seungkwan sighs, voice dropping to a whisper. you slam your head on the table, immediately cursing and rubbing your forehead at the impact.

“he’s being too nice,” you whine. “it would be so much easier if he was a mean asshole who wasn’t the literal human embodiment of a golden retriever!”

“so this is wh​​at first world problems sound like,” seungkwan mutters. he then puts his pen down to turn his body and face your figure, currently slumped over the table in defeat. “look, if his existence bothers you that much, stop being around him!”

“it’s not a bother,” you click your tongue. “it’s annoying because i like him so much and can’t do anything about it.”

“why not?”

“seungkwan, have you looked at me?” you deadpan. “mingyu is way out of my league. there’s no way he’d like someone like me.”

“then make him like you,” seungkwan shrugs.

“and how do you suggest i do that, genius?” you roll your eyes and scoff.

seungkwan simply smiles in response and clasps his hands together. you only have a few moments to feel extremely terrified before seungkwan says, “let dr. boo teach you how to.”

“this feels like a scam.”

“please don’t hurt my ego.”

“.... alright.”

—

for seungkwan’s ‘masterclass���, he drags you out of the library, assignment forgotten, and into his dorm room. his roommate, hansol, doesn’t even spare a glance at seungkwan’s strange antics, as if he’s seen this play out multiple times before.

seungkwan takes you into his room and instructs you to sit down in the middle of his bed.

“okay, enlighten me,” you look up at seungkwan expectantly.

“the most fool-proof method of getting your crush to like you back, pause for dramatic effect,”seungkwan mutters under his breath before continuing, “is by making a love potion.”

there’s silence for a few moments, only to be interrupted by hansol loudly munching on chips while leaning against the doorframe. you raise an eyebrow at him, and all he says is, “watching seungkwan be delusional is my favorite hobby.”

“i’m not being delusional!” seungkwan argues. “my methods are tried and tested.”

“yeah, right,” you snicker. “who exactly has tested your methods?”

“i have!” seungkwan says with pride. “the love potion is real. ask hansol.”

“hey man, don’t turn this on me,” hansol raises his arms in defense. “i haven’t been given any potion.”

“remember that one week when you begged me to bake you cookies every day?” seungkwan hums. “what do you think was in those?”

“no way,” hansol’s eyes are wide with surprise. “i just thought your grandmother passed down some killer cookie recipe.”

“she did,” seungkwan nods, facing you. “that’s where i got my love potion recipe from. does it sound legit enough?”

“not even close,” you shake your head. “but i’m desperate, so teach me.”

“i’ll be glad to,” seungkwan chirps, and you momentarily think to yourself, what have i gotten myself into?

—

“hey, y/n! good morning!” the familiar voice makes you whip your head back, butterflies going crazy in your stomach as mingyu walks up to you. he looks effortlessly handsome in a simple hoodie and jeans as he comes to a stop next to your locker, canines peeking through when he smiles.

“how was your weekend?” he asks, and you pray to every divine presence watching that you aren’t a blushing mess.

“oh, it was fine,” you reply. “just trying out new things.”

“like what?” mingyu asks, and somehow, the ever-present twinkle in his eye seems even brighter. you wrack your brain to come up with any answer that won’t give away exactly what you’ve been doing over the weekend.

“a new recipe,” you finally reply. “you know, the tiktok recipes are becoming too interesting not to try.”

“but i thought you said you were terrible at cooking?” mingyu’s eyebrows furrow, and you mentally kick yourself for your flimsy lie. making seungkwan’s love potion-infused cookies hadn’t been easy, given your lack of basic cooking skills, but you had managed to scrape together a batch of cookies that were edible, not burnt, and baked all the way through.

“i had some help,” you smile. hoping that you sounded convincing enough.

“so, what’d you make?” mingyu asks, and you nearly sigh with relief. you had been thinking of ways to bring up the cookies in conversation, but thankfully, mingyu did all the work himself.

“i made some cookies,” you reply, and mingyu’s eyes light up.

“please tell me they’re choco chip,” he gasps, squealing when you nod in confirmation.

“would you wanna…. try them?” you offer hesitantly, not knowing just how much you could ask of mingyu before he got suspicious. fortunately for you, mingyu was like a giant dog whose tail starts wagging the instant he hears anything about food.

“yes! i’d love to try some,” he nods eagerly, and you couldn’t be any quicker in pulling out the box of cookies from your bag. mingyu watches closely as you open the lid, the smell of warm, fresh cookies filling the air. he doesn’t hesitate to reach into the box and grab a cookie, immediately taking a huge bite out of it.

you watch with bated breath as mingyu chews on the cookie, humming with satisfaction as his eyebrows scrunch together.

“y/n, these are heavenly,” mingyu groans. “do you mind if i take another one?”

you remember seungkwan’s instructions from earlier that week. the more cookies he eats, the stronger the effect of the potion is.

“of course! take as many as you want,” you grin, holding the box out for mingyu. he takes the box from your hands and reaches in for another one. you only watch (with heart-eyes) as mingyu finishes three cookies within five minutes.

“these are seriously so good,” mingyu sighs, closing the lid on the box. “do you think i could take the rest of these home?”

seungkwan’s voice speaks up from a corner of your brain. ‘the potion will work in your favor only if you are the first person mingyu sees after eating the cookies. you can’t let him have it anywhere else, or he’ll be in love with someone else.’

“no!” you reply, wincing at how loud your voice sounded. “i mean, i was saving some for myself too….”

you hate how quickly mingyu’s smile fades, shoulders drooping instantly as he hands the box back to you. “i see,” he says, looking dejected. “you can have these back.”

“i could make you some more!” you offer, trying to bring back the smile you loved seeing. “you can come over this weekend, and i can make you some more cookies, if you’d like.”

“really?” mingyu asks. “i won’t be too much of a bother?”

“you’re never a bother to me,” you say, and you hope that mingyu can tell that you really meant the words.

“awesome! i’ll see you on saturday,” mingyu grins. “i have to get to class now, but text me what time works for you, yeah?”

you frown. seungkwan had mentioned that the potion takes a couple of minutes to work, but mingyu’s behaviour was still normal.

“sure! but, uh, do you have anything you want to tell me?” you question, wringing your hands together with nervousness. mingyu stays silent for a while, his eyes locked onto yours, and for a second, you think that the potion really has worked, but the only answer that leaves his lips is: “great cookies! you’ve underestimated your cooking skills.”

as mingyu walks away to get to his class, it’s your turn to feel dejected as you think, why on earth did the cookies not work?

—

“something probably went wrong in the baking process,” seungkwan assures you over the phone, later that week, two hours before mingyu was scheduled to come over to your apartment.

“you told me your recipe was easy! what could’ve gone wrong?” you throw your hands up, frustrated.

“maybe ask yourself that,” seungkwan rolls his eyes. “my recipe is perfect, maybe consider that you did something wrong?”

you sigh. you did end up doing something wrong with five batches of cookies before the last batch had turned out good, so it wasn’t too unbelievable of a proposition.

“fine, then at least tell me what i should do now,” you plead. “this is probably my last chance to make this work, and i can’t screw it up.”

“don’t worry, i’ve got you,” seungkwan comforts you. “get the ingredients ready, i’ll guide you through every step.”

an hour later, the cookies were baking away in the oven as seungkwan busied himself with doing karaoke in his room, and you cleaned up the kitchen. the bottles of ‘magical’ ingredients seungkwan had given you, labelled unicorn vanilla essence, fairy chocolate chips, and pixie cocoa powder, were now empty, so you sweep them into the trash. the names did sound a little sketchy, but you’d rather stay silent than question seungkwan’s credibility.

“are you sure it’s gonna work this time?” you ask seungkwan, and he shoots you a glare before moving to pause his music.

“y/n, there’s absolutely nothing that could go wrong,” seungkwan says. “i guided you through the entire thing. now, just trust the process and let the magic do its thing.”

“okay, got it,” you nod. just then, the oven timer rings, and you hurry to grab your mittens to take the tray out of the oven. you carry the tray over to the cooling rack on your kitchen counter, the smell of cookies wafting through your apartment, when your doorbell rings.

“wait here, kwan, i’ll go check who’s at the door,” you tell your friend before hanging up and heading over to the front door, mittens still on your hands. you open the door, and then your jaw drops.

“mingyu?”

“hi!” mingyu chirps. he looks good; good enough to make your brain short-circuit when he smiles at you. you’re so caught up in your thoughts that it takes you a while to realize that he’s also holding out a bouquet of flowers for you.

“you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to,” mingyu cuts you off. “you’re making me cookies, and i felt bad for showing up empty-handed, so i got you these flowers. you said you liked tulips, right?”

you blush instantly, smiling bashfully as you take the bouquet of tulips from mingyu. “i love them, thank you. please, come in.”

mingyu trails behind you as you lead him into the apartment. you mentally kick yourself when you see a blanket strewn haphazardly over the couch, immediately going over to fold it to make your living room look more presentable. “excuse the mess, i wasn’t expecting you for…. another hour.”

it’s mingyu’s turn to look flustered as he scratches the back of his neck. “i’m sorry for showing up this early— i was excited to meet you.” when he sees your eyes go wide at his words, he quickly adds on, “and the cookies. i was really excited to meet the cookies and eat you! oh. i mean—“

“it’s alright!” you cut him off, saving him the awkwardness. “why don’t you take a seat? i’ll bring the cookies out.”

mingyu merely nods, his cheeks just as red as you imagine yours to be.

he’s probably just embarrassed, because there’s no way he likes me. the love potion didn’t even work on him! you grapple with your reasoning for some more time before settling on a version that made sense. a version that, unfortunately, didn’t involve mingyu feeling the same way you did.

ignoring the urge to cry, you head into the kitchen to pile the fresh cookies onto a plate. while you’re focused on arranging them in a pretty way, you fail to realize when mingyu enters the kitchen.

“they smell so good,” mingyu says, right next to your ear, and you can’t help but startle. mingyu smiles sheepishly, moving away from you to keep a comfortable distance between both of you.

“sorry, i keep surprising you,” mingyu apologises. “i only came into the kitchen to see if you needed any help.”

“don’t worry, you’re good,” you assure him quickly. you don’t even care about the sudden jumpscares mingyu has been giving you, not when the excitement and nervousness rising from your love potion-cookies overwhelms every other feeling.

not being able to hold back any longer, you grab the plate of cookies from the counter and slide them over to mingyu. “you can make it up to me by having these cookies.”

mingyu’s smile becomes even brighter, something you never thought was possible, as he reaches for a cookie. he doesn’t even hesitate to bite into it, and for a moment, you feel guilty for feeding him a potion without his knowledge.

“they’re even better today!” mingyu’s gasp of contentment interrupts your thoughts. “they’re fresh, warm, and the perfect amount of chewy,” he continues, raving on and on about how the ‘sea salt enhances the chocolate perfectly’ like some cookie connoisseur.

on a normal day, your chest would be swelling with pride at how mingyu, a die-hard foodie, complimented your food, but you had the love potion to worry about.

impatient and curious, you make your first mistake by blurting out: “is it working?”

at the confused expression mingyu shoots you, you can only bite your tongue at the wrong choice of words.

and then, your second mistake:

“i meant, i—uh, used some new ingredients for these cookies,” you quickly add to cover up your lie. “i just wanted to check if they were able to—”

“—make the love potion you put in these cookies?” mingyu raises an eyebrow, and your jaw drops. your heart is soon to follow when you see mingyu’s smile morph into something upset and betrayed.

“how did—how did you know?” you ask, wringing your hands together.

“y/n, there’s literally an instruction booklet in front of you that says, ‘love potion-cookies,’” mingyu sighs. “it’s pretty obvious.”

horrified, you stare at the recipe laid out in front of you. there was no way you could save yourself now. so, you decide to own up to your actions.

“mingyu, look—”

“i knew your plan,” mingyu stops you. “i knew it the day you first gave me the cookies.”

“h-how?”

“people have used it on me many times,” mingyu admits, sounding annoyed. “what sucked was that i used to fall ‘in love’ with them momentarily. even though it’d wear off in a few hours, it wasn’t the best feeling.”

“but how could you tell that—that my cookies had the potion?” you ask him, wondering why on earth mingyu would agree to eat cookies laced with potential magic ingredients.

“i’ll be honest, seungkwan’s recipe is a bit different, so i couldn’t tell at first. i only recognized the flavor of unicorn vanilla essence after the second cookie, and i knew.” mingyu reveals.

“but why didn’t it work on you?” you’re more frustrated than confused. if you did everything right both times, why hadn’t it worked on mingyu? “is it really so impossible for us to be together that not even borderline witchcraft can help me?”

“y/n—”

“this was my last resort, because i was so tired of pining after you for months and still being seen as a friend by you—”

“listen to me—”

“maybe i was never destined to even find love, because whose luck is this bad—” this time your rant is cut off by mingyu’s hands cupping your face and his lips meeting yours.

for approximately three seconds, your body freezes. you wish you could move, kiss him back, do something, but you can’t be blamed for taking a few extra seconds to process that you’re being kissed by someone you’ve liked for almost two years.

when your brain finally starts working again, you lean in closer to mingyu, placing your hands on his shoulders for some leverage as you balance on your toes to kiss him back properly.

mingyu is the first to pull away, and he even leaves a soft peck on the tip of your nose. his hands move from your face to your waist, and you allow yourself to be hugged close to him.

“the potion doesn’t work on me because i already like you back,” mingyu explains, and a heavy weight lifts off your chest. “i was too scared to confess to you, so i was kinda glad that you tried to make some move.”

“wait, so— how long have you felt this way?” you question, feeling like an idiot who can’t stop smiling.

“ever since we got paired up in the cooking contest at the college fair,” mingyu chuckles, and your eyes widen at that memory.

“oh god. that’s so embarrassing,” you complain, leaning forward to rest your head on mingyu’s chest and hide your face from him.

“hey, seeing you cry before you got to cutting the onions was hilarious!” mingyu adds on in a teasing tone, and you playfully punch his arm.

“it stung my eyes real bad! you had to be there to know,” you defend yourself, to which mingyu replies, “i was there. it really wasn’t that bad.”

“are you trying to get me to lose feelings for you right after i confessed?” you pout, and mingyu simply laughs before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“okay, let’s never bring that day up again,” he says, and you nod in agreement.

“do you think you could make me some more cookies, though? like, at least once a week.”

“are you insane? i’m never going near an oven ever again. you are the chef in this relationship.”

“it was worth a try, i guess.”

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[angelsknifeprty]

couldn't fight to save your life (but you look so cool) ❀˖꩜˚࿔ - e.w

loser!ellie x popular!reader | 3.2k words

a/n: guess who rewatched bottoms for the billionth time (me. it was me.) :p loser!ellie won't leave my mind and neither will crush by ethel cain so here's somethin' random i came up with, enjoy!

cw: cursing, bullying, a little violence, mentions of blood, two idiots that are obviously infatuated with each other, mentions of reader wanting to punch ellie for being too cute cuz they’re strange like that

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

you're an angel, she's sure of it.

ellie watches with glassy eyes, practically in a trance, as you absentmindedly play with your hair. she drinks in the way your perfectly curated outfit adorns your body; you always look flawless to her. You were laughing at something your friend had said, ellie's ears straining to hear the saccharine sound over the chatter buzzing. she just heard it, and god, what she would do to have a recording of it to listen to over and over again.

the two of you weren't friends by any means, but she knew you.

most of ellie's time was spent staring at you during class or when you passed her in the hallway. her eyes would shy away every time they met yours, the intensity of your gaze leaving her a flustered mess within seconds. 

when she wasn't looking at you, her head was buried into her journal, pencil dragging fervently across the pages. her entries always had your name embedded somewhere within their sentences. it was like you were all she could think about. when she would draw, the lines and curves always morphed into you, capturing a moment of you daydreaming in class or whatever other snapshot her mind had taken of you that wouldn't stop plaguing her.

she'd listen to your conversations when she was close enough to hear - not to be a creep or anything! but how else was she supposed to learn more about you?

sure, the obvious answer would be to talk to you, but she was a nervous wreck from just seeing you. you'd only had a few brief interactions before, and she swears she almost fainted when you remembered her name when you asked her for a pen once.

while she believed the popularity contest that was high school to be ridiculous, her very low place in the school's hierarchy was a definite set-up for failure, she was certain. ellie kept to herself, mostly, aside from her few friends, but that didn't stop her from becoming the target of relentless bullying from some of the other students, the ones at the top of the food chain.

you were well-liked amongst your peers, but your popularity never merged you with those people. you were known for your sunny disposition, whereas they tormented their way to the top.

you'd seen it happen a couple of times, the sound of their jeering always catching your attention, especially when you heard them say ellie's name in that disgusting tone that made your heart ache for her. in fact, it's what snapped you out of your current conversation as an irritated, "what the fuck, williams?" sounds throughout the hallway.

in her lovestruck daze, ellie hadn't been looking where she was walking, which conveniently caused her to bump into one of them - a girl you didn't care much for, quinn was it? all you knew for sure was that she was trouble.

ellie winced and scrunched her face at the sound of her voice, internally cursing at herself because now she had to deal with her. she opened her eyes to see that everyone was looking, including you.

"shit, sorry. wasn't looking where i was going, won't happen again," ellie's tone is curt, trying to move past her and continue with her day before things got worse.

but of course, she wouldn't get let off the hook that easily; that was just her luck.

"where do you think you're going?" she probes, moving to block ellie's path. ellie has to restrain herself from rolling her eyes in her face, not wanting to escalate things if she could help it. how naive of her to think that nothing could ever be easy for her.

"c'mon, dude. i apologised. can we move on and-"

suddenly, it feels like the wind was knocked from ellie's lungs, and she's… falling?

a little stunned, she looks up from her newfound place on the floor after quinn has shoved her to the ground. all because of an accident that could have been easily brushed off and forgotten about. such a dumb fucking reason, and yet it has ellie seething.

"you should watch where you're going, williams. always lurking where nobody wants you to be." quinn spits, taunting ellie to get a rise out of her. 

it was likely that ellie's indifferent reactions to quinn's bullying irritated her, unable to fathom why ellie wouldn't buckle and submit like every other one of her unfortunate victims.

while the teasing and mean remarks were an unfortunate constant in her life, this never mellowed ellie. she was always quick-witted, her slight temper always having her ready to argue back and stand up for herself, and this time was no different.

ellie rises from the ground and delivers an equally hard shove, an irate, "what the fuck is your problem?" leaving her chapped lips. being the drama-obsessed hive mind that high schoolers were, it didn't take long for people to start crowding around the two once things intensified.

you had been watching the whole thing from afar before a wall of people began forming, not realising it'd evolve into this. you heard a pained groan rip from ellie's throat after what you presumed was the first punch being thrown. now you are only able to listen to the commotion but not see the situation, making your anxiety skyrocket. 

you liked to keep an attentive eye on ellie from a distance despite your paths rarely crossing, feeling some strange obligation to watch over her. you knew quinn and her posse of assholes always gave ellie a hard time, but she seemed to handle herself just fine, sometimes hearing one of her clever comebacks that made you giggle.

while the brawl entertained everyone else, you grew increasingly agitated. you were never one for drama and kept a relatively peaceful circle of friends, but the idea of just standing and doing nothing felt like a personal failure.

so, before you knew it, you were excusing yourself from your friends and pushing your way through the crowd to get to ellie.

once you breached the crowd, you found yourself in the eye of the storm, your eyes wide. after a while of their struggle against each other, quinn was now situated on top of ellie as she delivered a particularly hard punch to ellie's cheek. the wounded groan she let out was what urged you out of your frozen shock, rushing towards the tangle of violent limbs, grabbing quinn's shoulder and pulling her off of ellie with a hard tug.

"get the hell away from her!" you yell, trying hard to ignore the disappointed groans of the audience as you interrupt their entertainment. "assholes." you thought to yourself. 

wiping the blood from her nose, the sight of the trickling crimson more satisfying to you than it should be, quinn looks at you confused, clearly not expecting you of all people to come to ellie's rescue.

"the fuck are you doing?" she sneers, looking between you and ellie, who is still on the floor, propping herself up on her elbows with the nastiest glare you'd ever seen on her face. "don't tell me you actually give a shit about this loser-"

"back off, don't touch her," you snarled, pushing past her to kneel beside ellie on the ground.

you had this untouchable air about you, something that was a little lost on you but not to quinn. she knew you had people to back you up, her targets usually being the loner outcast types, being the coward she is. the same ruthlessness ellie received was not given to you, an irritated scoff being all you heard from quinn. she was the least of your worries right now.

"are you okay?" you ask, a little breathless from the adrenaline of putting yourself in the middle of a fight in front of an audience. your brows furrowed at how quickly deep purples and blues had already started blooming around ellie's eye and her freckled cheek. 

ellie looked at you blankly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, and she tried desperately to find any words to say to you. how was she supposed to think straight? the rush from the fight and now having her crush come to her aid rendered her speechless. her lack of answer only worried you more, pinning her silence on being stunned from the fight still.

"ellie, i need you to answer-"

you were cut off by the sound of the principal pushing his way through the mass, his stern voice demanding that the two battered girls follow him to his office.

you watch doe-eyed and nervous as ellie pushes herself off the floor with a wince, looking at you with eyes that have so much to say yet a mouth that cannot quite verbalise it. but she couldn't stay, so without a word, she reluctantly trudged behind the principal with her head hanging low, utterly fed up, and man, that one punch hurt.

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

you peered around the corner to the row of chairs lined up outside the principal's office, eyes fixated on ellie's slumped figure occupying one of them. you had been watching for at least a minute or two now despite there being the opportunity to approach her like any other normal person. but this was comfortable for you, familiar. if ellie believed she was the only person with a staring problem, and she did, then she was painfully wrong.

it felt routine for you to watch her like this from afar, a look in your eyes brimming with so much more than just innocent curiosity.

it was like you could sense her presence in a room, your gaze always finding her so easily amongst the hoard of other students. your eyes would rake up and down as you shamelessly drank her in, that camo jacket of hers that she wore like a safety blanket hanging loosely from her frame. she wore it infuriatingly well, paired with her unbothered demeanour that looked oh so good on her. a witty remark was always ready on the tip of her tongue when one of her tormentors dared to speak to her, her scarred brow furrowing into a scowl that made your stomach flutter.

you knew what cuteness aggression was, but that surely couldn't be what you felt now. but it made you mad how badly ellie affected you even from a distance, what was once just a silly hallway crush twisting into a near-violent obsession. you spied her fresh bruises, almost filling you with a little satisfaction. serves her right, your voice whispers quietly inside your head, as if you were scared someone could hear you. you almost wished you had been the one to give her the bruises only so you could plant two gentle kisses over the skin to soothe the sting afterwards. the deep plum colour blooming across her skin still somehow made her look pretty, and you had to take a moment to ask yourself if that was a fucked up thing to think. probably. 

suddenly becoming aware of how much of a creep you must look, lingering but not daring to approach, you decided to finally go check on her. it wouldn't feel right for you not to ensure she was okay.

ellie wonders how hard she was punched when she looks up to see you, a concerned and bashful smile on your face.

"hey, ellie. i just wanted to check on you after what happened with… y'know." 

ellie spends a moment in silence as she processes what's happening. you're fidgeting with your hands, rocking back and forth on your heels like you don't know what to do with yourself. she could have scoffed in bewilderment, as if you had any right to look so nervous standing in front of her, effortlessly beautiful and so sweet.

"ellie?" you repeat her name again, softer this time. ellie almost wants to stay silent just to hear you repeat it. but she needs to respond, fuck think, think, think-

"o-oh, hey. i uh- yeah, i'm okay. nothing i can't handle," ellie finally manages to get out. you nod in acknowledgement, tearing your eyes away for just a moment to compose yourself.

"do you mind if i sit?" you gesture to the empty chair beside her, which has her perking up almost immediately. ellie nods, a simple "sure," leaving her lips in a tone that sounded far more curt than nonchalant like she intended. really, she was just trying to focus on not bursting at the seams. you were so close to her, and now she had to keep her cool.

"thanks for stepping in earlier and pulling her off of me. you didn't have to do that."

"i wasn't just gonna stand there and watch it happen," you say it like that wasn't what anyone else would have done, what they did do. all more than happy to watch her get her ass beat just to spice up what otherwise would have been another boring school day.

"i'd say i held my own somewhat well," ellie quips, her tone a little lighter than before. you giggle softly, deciding not to remind her that she had been floored by the time you got to her. she had definitely lost the fight, and in her defence, that girl was notoriously scrappy, but fortunately for you, she made losing look so good. holding herself up on her elbows, the meanest look on her dishevelled face as she stared up at the girl with an unwavering glare.

"and what did the principal have to say about that?" you press for details, head tilting curiously. you looked like a puppy, sitting all cute and pretty next to her. ellie swore you were trying to kill her; such a simple movement made her heart rate spike. 

"got a firm slap on the wrist and the usual 'you're better than this' speech." you hum in acknowledgement, a breath of a laugh exhaling through your nose.

"well, for what it's worth, I think you gave her what she deserved." your statement caught her off guard, and she was not expecting you to condone any of what went down earlier.

"oh, you think?"

"oh definitely. the only time i see her is when she's making some poor person's life hell. i'm glad to see her get a taste of her own medicine."

ellie couldn't argue with that, shrugging in agreement as she tried to keep the pride bubbling up in her chest at bay.

"i am a little surprised, though. i wasn't expecting you to entertain a fight with her." this makes ellie raise her eyebrow inquisitively. did she not look tough enough to be in a fight or something? she knew she was nerdy, but surely she didn't look utterly defenceless, right?

"how come?" she questions, leaning back more comfortably in her chair, legs settling into her usual manspread that had you reeling just from seeing it from a distance, never mind being right next to her. your eyes darted around the hallway, desperately trying to focus on the conversation.

"well, y'know, i see you around, and you're usually so…" you trail off as you wave your hands in soft, fluid motions, whimsical and a little silly as you try to explain the softer side of her you had always noticed in what looked like some strange interpretive dance. 

"but back there, you were all like-" you're swinging your arms a little more frantically now, a poor recreation of some generic karate moves. you would feel like a total idiot and you very much do if it wasn't for the cheesy smile spreading across ellie's face at the sight of you.

"yeah?" she feels like she's getting lightheaded from how giddy she feels.

"yeah." you parrot back sheepishly, twiddling your thumbs to ground yourself. so cute.  

all ellie seemed to be good for was being riled up by the other students, so hearing that you had acknowledged her enough to make up your own mind about her made her feel like she was short circuiting. she was quickly snapped out of her temporary high when she felt a sharp sting on the side of her face, her sappy smile irritating her bruises.

"shit, are you okay?" you ask worriedly as she tries to brush it off with a wave of her hand.

"yeah yeah, i'm fine; this could've been way worse. you don't need to worry." her thoughts didn't quite match up with her words, though, silently begging that you'd keep doting on her. she was basking in having your undivided attention.

"ellie, these bruises are pretty big, i'm allowed to worry after I watched you get your ass handed to you," you ramble, ignoring her dismissal. 

"hey! she didn't have that much of an upper hand against me-"

you don’t reply, your hand absentmindedly reaches out to cup her jaw, being careful not to press into where it hurts as you inspect her injuries.

"has anybody checked over you yet?"

she feels like she's on fire, palms sweaty as she silently lets you examine her. she barely managed to respond to your question with a simple "no." she swore she could feel everywhere your eyes landed on her face, and fuck, your hand is so warm. the mess of a girl was surprised that steam wasn't radiating from where your skin met. 

as you give her face a final once over, you catch that frazzled deer-in-headlights look in her eyes and realise what you were doing, immediately removing your hand. if ellie wasn't frozen in place, she would have chased your touch, already missing the feeling of you on her skin.

"s-sorry, i just- i didn't mean to touch you out of nowhere. i was checking for my own peace of mind and got carried away-"

"no!" ellie interrupts a little louder than she meant to. "i mean, it's totally fine," her voice is shaking, "thank you for caring. you don't even really know me, and you're doing all this for me, so thank you."

her abruptness halts your apologetic rambling. you look at her wide-eyed for a moment before letting a soft little smile tug up the corner of your lips. if only she knew just how well you'd come to know her from all of your stolen glances, committing her to memory like she would disappear.

"don't mention it."

silence falls over you, both fidgeting shyly as you struggle to find something else to say. but that was okay. the giddy smiles you were both biting back said everything they needed to.

"i should probably get back to class, i've been holding this hall pass hostage for a while so i could come to check on you." you huff out a little disappointed sigh, reluctant to leave now that you'd finally been able to talk to ellie after so long spent longingly glancing in her direction.

"oh right, sorry. don't let me keep you, like i said i'm fine, really." ellie felt herself deflate a little now that she knew you had to go. the word pathetic came to mind when she realised how silly she must have looked, sulking like a kicked dog.

"i'm glad you're okay, ellie. i'll um… i'll see you around, yeah?" you couldn't help the hopefulness seeping through your words, and ellie noticed. the slight lilt in your sweet voice, your awkward shifting as you stood up, ready to leave.

"yeah, i'll see you around." ellie smiled up at you, ignoring the sharp twinge where her bruises were. maybe she should get beat up more often if it meant getting your attention.

[astrologydray]

When Your Moon Sign Matches Their Rising Sign: Part 2

♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️

Leo Moon + Leo Rising

♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️

This pairing is big, bold, and emotionally expressive. A Leo Moon craves emotional validation through attention, loyalty, and dramatic shows of love. When matched with someone who has Leo Rising, you’re dealing with someone who walks in like royalty — head held high, presence magnetic. They look like the emotional sun you already orbit.

You, as the Moon, feel larger-than-life emotions, and they carry themselves like a spotlight follows them around. The emotional vibe is celebratory, affectionate, and often over-the-top — in the best way.

Synastry vibe: It’s giving “power couple” energy. Compliments fly. PDA is constant. You both thrive on mutual admiration and performative affection.

Potential dynamic: The Leo Moon person will feel emotionally seen by how the Leo Rising shows up. They project the love and warmth the Moon person quietly (or loudly) desires. There’s a shared sense of pride and a deep desire to stand out together.

This duo needs to manage egos. If one person feels overshadowed or under-praised, drama can erupt. But when mutual admiration flows freely, it’s iconic.

♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️♌️

Virgo Moon + Virgo Rising

♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️

This connection is grounded, observant, and detail-focused. Virgo Moons experience emotions through the lens of “what can I fix, improve, or control?” They don’t get swept away easily — they analyze. Pair this with someone who walks into the room with Virgo Rising energy — clean, precise, possibly shy or reserved — and it creates an instant emotional alignment. The Moon person feels internally anxious or self-critical at times, and the Virgo Rising naturally presents calm competence. This creates a beautiful mirroring effect: both are careful with energy, modest, and quietly intense.

Synastry vibe: You soothe each other through structure, consistency, and acts of service. It’s the kind of couple that remembers the small things — tea with honey, your favorite pen, fixing your collar — and that is their love language.

Potential dynamic: Emotional safety comes from routine and subtle care. The Virgo Moon feels “matched” by the Virgo Rising’s natural thoughtfulness. It’s not a dramatic bond — it’s earned trust over time.

Both partners can fall into overthinking, perfectionism, or nitpicking. You’ll need to balance the desire to “fix” each other with simply being present.

♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️♍️

Libra Moon + Libra Rising

♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️

The vibes are immaculate. Libra Moons process emotions through connection, aesthetics, and diplomacy — they hate disharmony. Libra Rising walks into the world already exuding grace, charm, and people-pleasing energy. When the Moon person sees that elegance mirrored back to them, it creates an instant bond based on mutual emotional aesthetics. This match often looks picture-perfect — they dress well, communicate smoothly, and have a shared love for music, art, beauty, and social dynamics. You both care about how things feel, and how they look.

Synastry vibe: It’s giving ���IG couple but actually in love.” You share a need for peace, validation, and good vibes. There’s an automatic understanding of emotional decorum.

Potential dynamic: Libra Moon feels emotionally understood by the Libra Rising’s way of moving through the world. You’re both relationship-oriented, and you crave mutual fairness and effort. When this works, it’s soft, sweet, and truly harmonious.

Conflict avoidance can build resentment. You both hate being the “bad guy,” so issues may go unspoken for too long. Speak up — even if it ruins the aesthetic for a minute.

♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️♎️

Scorpio Moon + Scorpio Rising

♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️

Deep. Intense. Unexplainable. This combo is psychic-level synastry. Scorpio Moons feel everything — jealousy, love, rage, loyalty — with intensity they rarely show. Scorpio Rising looks intense without saying a word. When these two meet, they feel seen in the shadows — a rare and sometimes overwhelming experience.

It’s a match built on emotional X-rays. The Moon person has secret emotional needs, and the Rising person wears just enough mystery to trigger or attract them. It feels fated — but also dangerous.

Synastry vibe: This is a trauma-bond waiting to happen or a soul-bond that changes both forever. You meet each other’s intensity — in silence, in stares, in sex.

Potential dynamic: The Scorpio Moon feels like the Scorpio Rising knows things about them they’ve never shared. And they probably do. The Rising person feels like their emotional armor finally met its match. There’s a spiritual entanglement here that can be obsessive.

If this isn’t built on trust, it will implode. You both have abandonment issues, control tendencies, and emotional walls. But if you’re both healed? This is the kind of match that rewires your DNA.

♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️♏️

[gundamthey17]

"Come on, Crystal. Let's give Edwin a minute to adjust his really poor attitude."

"Oh - okay. Sure." Crystal followed Charles out the Agency door, slamming it much harder than necessary, in Edwin's opinion. Edwin stared after them, his posture rigid.

"I haven't got a poor attitude," he sniped to the empty room. "You brought a living person into our office. We haven't had a living person in here since..."

He cast his mind back, trying to remember. When it came to him, he answered himself in a rough approximation of Charles' accent. "That nun, back in ‘13."

"Yes, and that was nearly an unqualified disaster."

"Only nearly," Edwin-as-Charles replied. "Everything turned out fine, didn't it? Quit worryin' so much. Deep breaths, mate."

Edwin closed his eyes and listened to the version of Charles in his head. He drew a deep breath and let it out, feeling his shoulders drop. He shook his head slightly, allowing his posture to adjust. Last of all, he unclenched his fists, working his fingers a few times to loosen them. He opened his eyes and blinked at the empty office. Sighing, he reached for his pen and a note card, fully intending to write up the completed report for the Case of Crystal Palace.

"Mail call!"

Edwin made an entirely undignified sound before clapping his hand over his mouth. He glared at the postman, who was stepping through the wall to his left. Scraping together what remained of his composure, he lowered his hand and said, "You could knock. We have a front door."

The postman glanced toward the front of the office. "Huh. So you do," he said, as if noticing the door for the first time. He held out a small handful of letters. When Edwin did not move to take them, he dropped them on the desk, tipped his hat curtly, and disappeared the same way he came in.

Edwin glared at the wall for a moment longer. His hands shook as he picked up the mail and began to leaf through it. Great. Now he was getting worked up over the bloody postman. He raised one trembling hand and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows; he could feel a headache coming on.

It wasn't actually the postman that had him so out of sorts, of course. It wasn't even Crystal, though she certainly wasn't helping matters.

No, it was the fact that Death herself had been in their office less than a fortnight ago.

And now Charles had left him alone, to go wander the city with some living girl, whose case should already be closed. They ought to be sifting through their caseload, discussing pending jobs, not wasting time gallivanting about with the living.

What if Death did come back? What if she showed up while Charles was out and unceremoniously shunted Edwin off to hell? What if Charles returned and found the office empty, no trace of Edwin, except perhaps the faint smell of sulfur?

Deep breaths, mate.

Edwin didn't close his eyes this time, but he tried to slow his breathing. It was much harder to listen to Charles when he wasn't physically present, putting his hands on Edwin's shoulders to ground him, or even holding Edwin's hands until they stopped shaking.

Edwin made up his mind. The living girl would not be staying. He would put his foot down. 

As if Edwin had ever been able to deny Charles anything before. As if his kind eyes and cheeky smile and knowing expression wouldn't have Edwin capitulating immediately.

Y'never know. First time for everything, isn't there? the Charles in his head grinned.

Edwin hoped he was right.

[synity]

I REALLY DO GET IT-pt2

(Woozi x femReader)

*Angst · Romance · Hurt/Comfort · Soft ending Hidden feelings · Slow comfort Vulnerability*

“A Few Months Later”

You stayed. He stayed.

But staying doesn’t always mean everything is fixed.

The first few weeks after that night felt like a dream you were too scared to wake up from. Woozi looked at you differently. Softer. Warmer. He texted first. He brought you coffee. He asked how your day was before talking about his. You finally heard him laugh again and this time, the sound reached you.

But eventually, life crept back in. Schedules. Studios. Deadlines. And so did the silence.

Not like before. This one was quieter. Not cold but cautious.

You sat beside him on the floor of his studio one evening, legs folded, eyes on his notepad. He’d scribbled down three lines. Crossed out two. You didn’t ask this time. Just waited.

He looked over at you. His gaze lingered. Then:

“Am I doing better?”

You blinked. Heart tightening.

Because he was. He was trying. He was scared.

“Yes,” you said softly. “But you don’t have to earn my love like this. I already gave it to you.” He looked down, fiddled with his pen.

“And you don’t have to hold your breath around me,” you added. “I won’t leave because you fall silent again. I’ll leave if you stop letting me in.”

That made him look at you really look. Eyes wide. Vulnerable. Like he hadn’t realized he’d been doing it.

That night, he didn’t say “I love you.” But he laid next to you in bed, arm around your waist, whispering melodies into your skin. Soft hums. Unfinished lyrics. Words you recognized from months ago pages you thought he’d tossed.

And just like that… you knew.

Even in his silence, you still lived in his music.

But not every day was good. There were days you still doubted. Moments you looked at him and wondered if you were enough again.

One night, you sat in the kitchen, his hoodie drowning your frame, eating cereal from a mug. He came in, hair messy, eyes half-closed from sleep. Paused in the doorway.

“I forgot to ask you about your meeting today,” he said.

You shrugged. “It was fine.”

He walked closer. Sat beside you. Reached for your hand under the table.

“I want to be better,” he said. “I want to ask about your day before I get too tired. I want to see you more than I see my deadlines.”

You looked down at your intertwined fingers. Then up at him.

“Then keep showing up,” you whispered. “Even when it’s hard. Even when you forget for a moment just come back.”

He nodded, resting his forehead against yours. His voice low.

“I don’t want you to ever ask yourself if you’d be missed again.” You smiled, tears welling up.

“And I don’t want you to ever be too scared to show me you care,” you whispered back. “Even if it’s messy. Even if you don’t know how.”

Because love isn’t perfect. And healing isn’t linear. But he chose you. And you chose him.

Over and over again.

Even on the hard days. Even when music came first. Even when words failed.

Because now, he shows up. He looks up when you walk in. He smiles at you like you’re a melody he doesn’t want to forget. He lets you hear the songs before anyone else.

And sometimes… you catch him staring. Like he’s still trying to believe you stayed.

But this time, when you catch him he doesn’t look away.

3 weeks later

The studio doesn’t look the same anymore. The couch is new—less sunken in. The walls are cleaner. But the whiteboard is still cluttered, scribbled with chord progressions and lyric fragments. And in the corner of the room, your favorite mug still sits. Chipped. Faded. But never replaced.

You’re curled up in it now on that couch watching him fiddle with his guitar. His hair’s longer. He wears glasses more often. But when he glances at you over his shoulder, it’s still the same Woozi. Still the same boy who once struggled to say I love you. Now, he sings it without words.

He strums a melody, pauses, hums something under his breath. You raise your eyebrows. He grins.

“You’re going to hate this one.”

“Try me.”

He starts again. Soft. Light. Like spring rain tapping on your window at midnight.

And then he sings:

Your heart skips. He keeps playing.

He sets the guitar down. Looks at you.

“That’s the last track of the album.” Your throat tightens.

“You’re naming the album?”

He nods. “Love, Finally.”

You laugh through the tears. “Did it really take you this long to admit that’s what this is?”

He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure I deserved to say it back then. But now?” He stands up, walks over to you, kneels in front of the couch. Takes your hand.

“I know what love looks like now.”

You stare down at him, your chest aching in the best way. This wasn’t the boy from three years ago who kept you at arm’s length. This was the man who built his life around making sure you never felt forgotten again.

You run your fingers through his hair. “I never stopped choosing you, Jihoon.”

He smiles. “I know. That’s why this time…”

He reaches into his pocket. And just like that, you see the box.

Simple. Elegant. His style.

Your breath catches. He opens it no grand speech, no rehearsed words.

Just: “Stay. Forever?”

Tears blur your vision. You nod, unable to speak.

And then he laughs. A full, unguarded, sunlit sound.

“You’re crying again.” You sniffle. “You keep making me cry.”

He kisses your forehead. Then your cheek. Then the ring onto your finger.

And when he pulls you close his arms around you, his music all around you you realize something.

The silence you once feared? It doesn’t exist anymore.

Because he never lets a day go by without reminding you: You are loved. You are chosen. And this time, you both stayed.

[kinabinaxoxo]

♡♡♡ Reward ♡♡♡

Sevika x Reader ٩(^ᗜ^ )

Feminine reader. Dick appointment. Obsessed Sevika. Squirting, Fingering, Oral. She doesn't really talk much in this one more of a performer tehe. Kinda rushed ngl :) kinda proof-read. Hope you enjoy toodles mwah. MNDI

Paint nails Go to bank Grocery shopping Finish report for big meeting tmrw Do laundry FOLD laundry Clean around apartment Put away dishes Take a shower If you finish give yourself a reward ;)

"Finally" you say to yourself placing down your notepad and pen while looking over to read the time.

7:03 p.m.

A reward would be nice after spending the whole day tending to your apartment, running errands, and dreading having to go back to work tomorrow.

You reach for your phone sending a quick text before continuing back to what you were doing. No point in wasting time considering how early it was. Plus you have a meeting to attend tomorrow morning.

The sweet scent of a vanilla and marshmallows candle fills your apartment with its aroma as you sit at your vanity rubbing lotion and light oil over your soft skin.

“Ugghh I hate Sunday nights” you say to yourself as you finish rubbing lotion on your legs.

You go to your bed to put on your pajamas. A simple set. Light pink tank top with a small white bow between your breasts and shorts to match.

Turning on the TV you decide to watch your favorite show at the moment to pass the time by.

1 hour later *Knock* Knock* Knock*

Opening the door its Sevika standing there as expected with flowers.

"Awww Sev you didn't have to" you take the flowers from her while reaching for Sevika's hand to pull her into your apartment as she closes the door with her foot.

Sevika actually knows you don't like when she shows up empty handed but yet you act surprised every time. She thinks it's cute plus she enjoys buying you things not expecting nothing in return. To her your presence is enough but Sevika knows why she's here tonight.

Dragging Sevika into the kitchen you grab some scissors and begin to trim your flowers. Sevika stands behind you watching. Admiring you.

Sevika also loves your apartment. Everything about it reminds her of you. It's cozy, cute, and always smells good just like you. To her it feels like it's another way of being inside you.

Grabbing a vase you fill it with water and put flowers in there. You head over to your dining table that's where you decided to put it as Sevika trails behind you.

You reach over placing them down.

“Thank you for the flowers baby"

You turned around to face her. Sevika was hot on your tail already so there’s not much space between you two.

Those grey eyes staring into yours. Eager to get the night started but she's patient.

"My pleasure angel."

Sevika hand makes it way to your lower back bringing you closer.

Your hands snake up to her neck pulling her down wanting a taste of her. A fresh woody musk with a hint of smoke fills your nose. You love it every single time, it's so intoxicating.

Your heated bodies pressed together just as y’all lips meet fitting together like puzzle pieces. You could taste the liquor she had probably not that long ago.

You feel Sevika's hands make their way down gripping your ass before lifting you, immediately you wrap them around her waist.

Breaking the kiss you work your way down to her neck, gently sucking and nibbling as she walks towards your bedroom.

Over to the bed she places you down on your back. Standing back up she begins removing articles of clothing. You lay there and watch.

Tossing her clothes to the side and now back in between your legs grabbing them. Now with one on her shoulder as she's caressing the other.

Sevika begins placing kisses on you starting at your feet down to your knees down to your thighs and finally to your pussy. Kneeling down she lightly kisses on her through your shorts.

She rubs your pussy feeling how wet you are even through the fabric of your shorts.

A low moan escapes your lips as she teases you. However you grow more impatient ready to be drilled into the mattress.

"Hurry up and fuck me Sev" you slightly yelled and pouted.

Just like a dog she listens. She loves your little attitudes.

Sevika smirks while reaching for the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down and throwing them to the side of the room.

Her tongue gliding up and down your wet pussy then roughly sucking on your clit switching between the two.

It felt so good as your hand reaches her head. Your fingers now intertwined with her hair lightly massaging it.

"Fu-uuck Sevika" you throw your head back, back arching off the bed.

She has your legs pushed back, knees to your shoulders with a firm grip on your thighs.

Her low hums causes vibrations to your pussy enough to make you crazy and a moaning mess.

Bucking your hips into her mouth as you get closer to cumming. Sevika adds two fingers inside you immediately receiving a reaction.

Moaning out "Just like that baby yesss"

Whimpers leaving your lips as you squirm under her touch.

Sevika picks up the pace with her fingers twisting them in and out of you as if she's in a hurry for you to cum all over here face.

"mmmhhahhh right there right there"

You begin to grind against her face and fingers feeling the pressure build up in your stomach before letting out a cry of pleasure.

"Ugghh im cumming" you breath out releasing it all on Sevika

Not an issue for her as she's already licking it all up and cleaning you up with her tongue. Making her way back up to kiss you as she she rubs her cock up and down your pussy tapping it on your clit.

You whimper into Sevika's mouth as your body twitches since your clit is now sensitive.

She pulls away lining her cock with your hole staring at your pussy.

Sevika loves your pussy. How it taste, how pretty it is, how wet you get, how good it feels being inside you, the wet sounds, the warmth of it. When it clenches around her fingers.

She slides her cock into you causing you to wince a little, happens every time. Sevika slowly goes back and forth until you adjust to her size.

"Fuck me Sevy."

Picking up speed giving you what you want holding you by your ankles.

Missionary is her favorite.

This way she gets to see all the good angles of you. All the faces you make, your tits bouncing from the pounding she's giving you, and gets to kiss you as much as she wants.

Pants, moans, and sticky wet sounds fills the room.

You reach up pulling her down into a kiss as Sevika never loses her rhythm.

Sevika starts to rub you clit with her thumb causing to depart from the kiss and moan into her mouth.

“Ugghh you fill me up so good baby” you moan out

Sevika lowers her head to your neck sucking on it leaving marks. Next, your breasts. Taking turns with the both of them. Sucking and nibbling on one while kneading the other like its dough.

Her main focus is pleasing you....like always but she strives for better each time. As if she'll never have another chance.

Removing her thumb from your sensitive clit she guides it into your mouth. Taking it in your mouth you suck on it staring into her eyes.

"You are so fucking sexy" Sevika says as that turned her on even more. It motivates her to fuck you into the mattress.

Going even faster now you throw your head back as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

The knot in your stomach coming even faster now.

You let out moan after moan cry after cry. As now its getting to much to handle.

You're a squirming mess trying to get out of Sevika's hold but she has a good grip on you. Another reason why she loves this position, she's more in control.

"Aww what's wrong mama?" Sevika asks plowing into you.

You're too out of it to respond her all you can do is moan as a response.

"You gonna cum for me baby? huh?"

Her words send butterflies to your stomach mixing with the tight knot in your lower stomach.

"nnghhyyessss" is all you manage to let out.

"Then cum for baby"

Without a second thought you squirt all over Sevika lower half leaving a big mess underneath you. The intense feeling in your stomach is now gone as you let out small whimpers closing off your climax.

You turn on your side now worn out. You feel the bed dip in on both sides of you. Looking up you see Sevika hovering, both hands on each side of the bed.

"You can handle one more right?" She questioned as she's sliding in you again.

As she begins picking up the pace you reach your hand to her lower stomach slightly pushing against her.

She takes that as a chance to grab your arm and pin it behind your back. Going twice the speed it makes you wonder where all this energy came from.

"Shit s-slow down" you cry out the feeling overwhelmed.

"Cmon baby take it like a good girl."

Sevika watches as your ass bounces off of her. Clapping and squelchy sounds fills the room as your moan gets louder and her thrusts rougher.

You eventually started to fuck her back, throwing your ass on her wanting more as the pleasurable feeling started to come back.

She stops and let you take over. Enjoying the view. Fucking you from the side like this.

"That's my pretty girl"

Leaning over Sevika places her lips on yours as you place your hand onto the back of her neck.

You smile in-between the kiss. Thinking to yourself,

"The best reward"

[3n-vi-ous]

little things about the obey me cast

lucifer

The Mom Purse™

has everything you could possibly ever need in his bag (which he carries around everywhere)

probably enchanted it to hold more than its meant to

always has to have some kind of non-water drink- usually hot tea or coffee

will never admit to it but he loves those super sugary iced drinks that barely have any coffee in them

very little spice tolerance. keeps a straight face because his brothers will jump on it SO fast

wears gel liner and mascara (would be a super pretty crier because of it)

mammon

talks to himself out loud when he's alone. will have whole conversations

eats SO much junk food but somehow stays in good shape (insane metabolism + actually works out at the gym with beel when he has the time)

chronic over exaggerator

incredible spice tolerance, will totally make fun of lucifer should he find out about his lack thereof

doesn't know how to say no (as seen in the game)

sleeps with socks on because the bed sheets are bad sensory

leviathan

once watched human world brain rot for shits and giggles and now he cant get it out of his head

wants to test if cocomelon works on mammon (spoiler alert: it does)

squeaks when he does a big stretch

could absolutely wreck somebody's shit but never thinks to in actual situations

not shy, just socially inept and bitter. he chooses not to interact

reads the devildom version of ao3 near religiously

satan

HAS to sit cross legged or some non-conventional way

doesn't matter what he's sitting on. its happening

totally the type to sit on a couch or armchair upside down with his head hanging off

doesn't like acidic food/drinks, it makes his teeth feel weird

would watch wendigoon if introduced. i think he'd love video essays (mystery flesh pit, anyone?)

writes personal notes in glittery gel pen

asmodeus

has a perfectly organized pencil pouch for school

once got swarmed by devildom geese. worst day of his life

steals his brothers' clothes ('i have to show you how to style these things correctly!')

would never stoop so low as to go to the casino, but is better at poker than mammon

will lie with the straightest face

eats finger foods with a fork because he doesnt like grease on his hands

beelzebub

comically easy to scare

takes really bad notes, even when he pays attention

has won several fangol games for his team

weirdly good art. mostly does chibi style doodles inspired by whatever anime Leviathan last made him watch

would cover for any of his brothers if they committed a crime (if they would even get persecuted- they are political figures)

if obey me was a musical, beel would be the one asking why everybody is singing

very smell sensitive, dislikes strong hand soaps, deodorants, etc

belphagor

always has snacks on him, in his bag, in the attic, etc

this came around because of beel, ofc

additionally, always wearing cargo pants of some kind when he's not in pjs. loves pockets

can do some sick knife tricks

not too far from canon, but falls asleep in weird places. often falls asleep sitting up, and if it's the only quiet place he can find he will absolutely pass out in a closet

would bring his brothers to the back of spencer's for the lols

diavolo

takes very large steps, mostly due to his height, and is very hard to keep up with

adrenaline junky. what with his inherent power, it just really gets him going to feel like he's in danger

can't say a tongue twister to save his life

likes party games like cards against humanity

hums to himself a lot, stims with the vibrations

the only one who can reliably tell when asmo is lying

loves lucifer for his dog and his dog alone /j silly

sometimes convinces barbatos to teach him how to cook. knows how to make some simple stuff

barbatos

probably cracks his joints really loud

can beat you up but thinks he's above it

has his own fandom of people who've got the hots for him

lucid dreams all the time

has an in depth skincare routine. shares tips with asmo

probably watches people sleep sometimes

i think it'd be cute if he sewed or crocheted or something in his free time

mephistopheles

has really expensive cologne

very low alcohol tolerance. also only likes fruity drinks

rolls his eyes SO much for literally no reason. he's just a brat

his devilgram is full of pictures of his horses

never learned to drive. always either on horseback or is driven by a personal driver

secretly loves white girl music

great with kids, pretends to hate him but he loves his brother

would totally get bullied on roblox

simeon

smells like lavender

once swore in front of luke and damn near died of shame

paces a lot when he's in thought

gets very in the zone when he's writing, hates being interrupted

absolutely wakes up november 1st and decorates for christmas. its not even a religious thing, he just likes the aesthetic

probably wears a really fancy watch he got from lucifer or diavolo

i mean this is kind of already canon but simeon would fall for someone he finds worth it

luke

knows all the swear words. will never say a thing

needs a nightlight to sleep but would rather die than tell somebody

likes to sit on simeon's lap and show him devildom brain rot because simeon doesn't understand what he's looking at

cant pronounce 'comfortable'

got simeon and solomon to get him a pet fish after he saw henry 2.0

the best at hide and seek, will not be found by anybody short of barbatos

if he were to have a discord server it would be all bots because he likes to play with them

solomon

sleepwalker

has scared the ever living shit out of simeon and luke in the middle of the night cause he's standing there dead asleep in the kitchen

cant stand silence. usually playing music or talking out loud when alone

gestures a lot when speaking

would probably kick a vending machine if his food got stuck

it'd be really funny if he ever got hit by a bus

his room is a MESS. only cleans it for luke (he likes to hang out in there) or possibly mc

[regretismyconstantcompanion]

Albus watched Harry cross into the garden with a strange, unfamiliar ache blooming in his chest. The smile on the young man’s face—the quiet joy at something as simple as being invited in—unnerved him in the gentlest of ways. How long had it been since someone had looked at him like that? Like he mattered beyond his mistakes?

He didn’t speak at first, letting Harry take in the surroundings. The homestead was modest, patched together with more intention than design, but it was peaceful. Safe. A far cry from the man who had once stood at the pinnacle of magical academia, the very image of power and knowledge. Albus Dumbledore had once stood in the spotlight. Now he stood in soil. “Rumours?” he asked, then his expression shifted—bemusement and mild horror mixing together in a rare display of unguarded reaction. “Dear Merlin. What kind of rumours?” He was loathed to think of what someone might suggest. He looked down at the goats milling in the pen. "Muggle animals certainly are useful and I do enjoy their company. They help me be more self sufficient." He rarely went into the village. Since he wasn't allowed to step foot in Hogsmeade, he had to travel to a Muggle village a little further away. The garden and animals ensured he could live for weeks or even longer without having to go anywhere.

When Harry moved toward Fawkes, Albus watched silently. The phoenix had not stirred, but his gaze never left Harry, as if he too were weighing a familiar spirit in unfamiliar time.

“He mourned, when I lost,” Albus said quietly. “He still does, in his own way. Phoenixes feel more than we can ever truly understand. Loss, loyalty… love.” He paused, watching Harry’s fingers brush over those brilliant crimson-gold feathers. Fawkes made a soft sound—more breath than voice—but it was unmistakably a greeting.

“When I came here, after everything, he came to me again. Just like the first time.” Albus' voice faltered, caught between memory and something more fragile. “After Gellert. After Ariana. When I was at my worst. Fawkes found me. And stayed because I was… broken. In a way that couldn’t be fixed by magic, or time, or ambition. He was my penance. And my companion. He's been with me ever since.” His eyes shifted to Harry then—sharp, but not unkind. “You say he left after I died in your world. I believe he did not leave you so much as he understood that his task was complete. He came for me when I was lost. Perhaps he left because you were not lost.”

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace that was across from him. The crackling of the flames was the only sound breaking the silence in the cottage that was nestled in the Scottish Highlands. It was isolated, miles away from even the nearest village. He had chosen it for that very reason, desperate for solitude even if it wasn't something that had been forced upon him. He had lost the duel against Grindelwald. He had known that had always been a possibility. There were equals after all and had known each other painfully well. They had spent that summer duelling, friendly but pushing each others boundaries. They had grown and changed and become more powerful but their tendencies had lingered. The fight had lasted well over an hour but in the end, Gellert had just gotten the better of him and managed to disarm him and send him flying backwards. His only minor consolation was the fight had left them both panting and injured. But it had been clear who the winner was. There was no backing out of the agreement they had made. His time in Nurmengard had been brief. A chance to recover from the duel before Gellert gave him an ultimatum. He could remain free if he agreed to leave Hogwarts and retreat from the Wizarding World. Albus had already known he would leave the school, for certainly he had lost that right when he had failed his students and the Wizarding World as a whole. He had agreed, knowing Gellert wasn't giving him a choice and not agreeing would result in either his death or being imprisoned in Nurmengard forever or the deaths of those he cared about. And so here he was, over a year after the duel. Staring into the fire, sitting beside a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Books had been removed from the overflowing bookshelves, scattered around the room. Some had been read, some he hadn't even yet opened. Plain parchment piled up on the desk. Few knew where he was and so letters came rarely. He had picked some of the fruit and vegetables he grew in a small garden he tended to. Perhaps he would make some jams and chutneys if he could find the strength and motivation. It came sometimes, mixed in with the heavy weight of despair that seemed to fill his waking hours. He had failed. He had let down the wizarding world and now he banished just beyond the world he loved so much. He knew what was happening there, of course. He did his best to learn of Gellerts ongoing plans and rise to power. Without him there, there was nothing to stop him. He knew the few Ministries that still existed moved against him but it wouldn't take much for them to fall. Everything would be lost then and Albus knew he was powerless to stop it. @johamfated

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Fourteen

Word Count: 3452 Warnings: some suggestive thoughts/actions, mentions of past abuse, more pining, fluff, minor alcohol use, several large timeskips Notes: There is actually no possible version of this chapter that I'm fully happy with lol. But I hate this one the least. And I hope y'all still find it somewhat enjoyable XD All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider indicates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

AO3 | Masterlist

The snow came down heavily most nights over the next few weeks, and Lelia was stuck in the cottage more often than not, leaving Simon to continue scavenging alone. Food wasn’t as plentiful in the village as they’d hoped, and at one point, Simon brought back two dead, clumsily skinned squirrels after his hunt. Lelia was horrified, shrieking in disgust when she saw them, and then tearing up out of pity for the poor things.

She ate them anyway.

It wasn’t all bad, though. She managed to convince Simon to let her paint his nails after she caught him watching her do her own. He objected to the sparkly pink color she was using, so they compromised on a pretty shade of light blue. He’d gone silent and looked at it for a long time when she first offered it to him, and he’d seemed almost… sad. Or perhaps lost was the better word. When she’d tried to ask him about it, he’d just shrugged and stayed quiet, not even letting out a grunt or groan. She’d pursed her lips in concern, and spent the next hour trying to cheer him up by telling him how stunning he’d look with his new nails.

Simon had pretended not to be amused, but she could tell that he was.

Today, she was reading him poetry when she was struck with a sudden thought.

“Simon,” she said, getting his attention. He opened his eyes, staring up at her from where his head was laying in her lap. She bit her lip, hesitating for a second, but then continued. “Would you… I mean, you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, of course, but— would you like me to try to teach you how to read?”

Simon didn’t answer for a long moment, didn’t so much as move, and she started to worry that she’d upset him. She didn’t know why he couldn’t read—he had to have been able to at some point, to be a soldier, but she didn’t know if he had lost the ability before or after he died. She didn’t even know if he knew.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, when the silence got to her. “I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to presume—”

Simon cut her off by sitting up and cupping her cheek with one hand, looking into her eyes. The cloudy film on his own had begun to fade two weeks past, showing hints of the brown beneath. It was nice to finally know their color. Just like the dirty blond hair, brown suited him.

Neither of them knew what it meant, that it was coming back. Neither of them dared to hope, either.

“Yyeah,” Simon grunted, tapping the poetry book and nodding. “Llllearn… yyeahh.”

“Yeah?” Lelia echoed, a slow, tentative smile blooming on her face. She felt his thumb dig into the apple of her cheek lightly, and it made her blush. She quickly looked away, down at her book. “Well… I’ll have to grab some paper and a pen, then. We’ll start by relearning the alph—”

Simon’s hand moved to grip her chin, lifting her face again. A small, stuttered breath left her, her eyes widening as they looked into his once more.

Is he going to kiss me?

As soon as she had the thought, she realized how stupid it was—not just because Simon didn't have lips, but because he couldn’t possibly see her in such a way, either.

Do I want him to see me in such a way?

Do I see him that way?

Simon was still staring at her, slightly-less cloudy eyes raking over every inch of her face. His broken jaw quivered where it hung, drool sliding out the corner and down his chin. Without thinking about it, Lelia reached up to wipe it away. A second later, she blinked in surprise at the instinctiveness of the gesture. But what was there to be shocked about? She cleaned his drool all the time. She always had. And she always would.

Oh. Oh.

She sucked in a deep breath, feeling dizzy as the realization rocked through her. She loved him. She loved Simon, her zombie, her protector, her only friend. She felt stupid that she hadn’t noticed her own feelings sooner—how many times had she thought about how handsome he was? How many times had she thought that he was the only person who had ever made her happy? That she was selfishly glad the world had ended, because it had brought them together?

It was so obvious, she almost laughed. But then Simon let go of her and tapped the book again, and the spell was broken. She delicately cleared her throat, trying to ignore the way her heart raced in her chest, and the way her whole world felt like it’d been turned on its head. She could agonize over what she was supposed to do now, how she was supposed to act like everything was normal when she was in love with a zombie who would never love her back—or she could teach that zombie to read, like she had offered. She could avoid ruining her relationship with the only person to ever care about her, or she could risk it all.

Lelia had never been very brave.

“I’ll go get that paper,” she said, making her choice. 

Time passed.

He spent most of it in genuine fucking domestic bliss with his dove, cuddled up with her in front of the fireplace when the snow kept her trapped inside, and exploring the village with her when it didn’t. Every little treasure she found made its way back to their cottage, turning it into something resembling a home. She’d even collected a few children’s workbooks for him, and she’d looked so excited that he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed—especially not when they actually helped. He could recognize the first dozen or so letters of the English alphabet, now, all thanks to her. His beautiful miracle worker.

“Hold still,” Lelia scolded him lightly when he reached over to try and run his fingers through her hair. He grumbled but relented as she batted his hand away, focusing back on his bare arm, which was laid out on the kitchen table, palm facing up. She was carefully filling in his tattoos with a fluffy makeup brush and a bunch of colorful eyeshadow. The pallet she’d found the other day was massive, with over two dozen shades, half of which were downright ugly, in his opinion. He also didn't understand why anyone would need five different hues of blue, but Lelia had been ecstatic about that, so he supposed it wasn’t entirely stupid.

His dove had spent the last hour turning his greying, translucent skin into a damn rainbow. Purples, pinks, reds, yellows, oranges, greens, and all those shades of blue filled in the spaces between the black lines of his tattoos. He felt like a bloody coloring book—but it was worth it to see the proud little smile on Lelia’s face when she finally straightened up and set aside her brush.

“There,” she said, pleased. “Now we match.”

She batted her dark lashes at him, drawing attention to the light blue powder on her eyelids. He groaned. Loudly. Lewdly. But she just giggled, innocently unaware. Christ, she had no idea the things she did to him…

It was getting harder and harder to keep his desires to himself. She’d had another wet dream in his arms just the other night, and he nearly gave in right then and there. He'd wanted to touch her, to taste her, so fucking badly. It was only the memory of her teary, devastated face when she’d confessed about what that bastard of a husband used to do to her in her sleep that had him slipping out of the bed instead of slipping his hands into her sleep shorts.

Ghost was a monster, had been even before he died and came back wrong. But he wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t do that to her. He would never hurt a hair on her precious little head.

“You’re sniffing me again,” Lelia pointed out, and Ghost grunted as he leaned back, putting some space between them. He had been sniffing at her hair like a damn dog, without even realizing. Bloody hell, but that never stopped being embarrassing. “Do you need to go hunt?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly before standing up and fetching one of his workbooks from the shelf over the table, along with a pencil. Lelia smiled brightly, clearing away the makeup so there was space for him to practice. He sat back down and opened the book up to the last page they had worked on—one covering the letter N.

“Do you want a refresher?” His dove asked, but he shook his head. The letter was recognizable to him now, as were the ones that came before it, and he was eager to move on. He wanted to be able to read again, to write again. It would make communicating with Lelia so much easier.

“Alright then,” she said, turning to the next page for him. It just looked like two N’s smushed together. “This is the letter M, like in Mama. It makes a mmmuh sound when used in a word. Mmmuh. Mmmuh. It's written like this…”

Lelia loved Simon so much it hurt.

The thought never left her alone, not since she had realized it nearly a month ago. The ache in her cheeks from constantly smiling at the sight of him, the way her heart raced whenever he touched her, the not-nerves that squirmed in her belly when he let out that deep, rumbling growl—none of it would let her forget, not even for a second. Now that she was aware of how hopelessly in love she was, it was all she could think about.

She was sure she was doing a terrible job keeping her feelings a secret, but Simon never seemed to notice. Nothing changed between them, at least. She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed at that fact.

They were currently searching the only section of the village that they hadn’t been in before. Simon had insisted on sweeping the area before letting Lelia step foot in it, like a chivalrous knight of old from her favorite stories. She barely refrained from confessing then and there. Instead, she’d just told him to hurry back, her arms wrapped around him in a hug.

As ordered, he made it quick, returning only ten minutes after he’d gone. So of course, when an hour later a zombie stumbled out of a closet Lelia was looking for new clothes in, he blamed himself. Doubly so when she tripped and fell into a broken window trying to get away, the sharp glass splitting her skin. She could tell by the way Simon reacted, sprinting into the room at the sound of her scream, an inhuman snarl tearing from his throat as he tackled the zombie to the floor and ripped it to shreds.

It was the first time since the cabin that she’d seen him fight another undead, and though it was scary, it was concerningly attractive, too. There was something wrong with her, she was sure, because the sight of Simon covered in gore and viscera, chest heaving, teeth bared… it made her heart race and her body feel warm.

But just like every other time she feared she was being exceedingly obvious about how badly she wanted him, he was oblivious. She found herself almost wishing he would notice, or that she could find the bravery to tell him, because living like this was painful.

But not as painful as it would be if he found out the truth and left her because of it.

Lelia insisted on cleaning Simon the second they got back to the cottage, refusing to let him have a look at the cut on her arm until she’d brushed his teeth and helped him change into fresh clothes. He’d fought her on that, but there were very few things she was stubborn about, so when she decided to be, she went all in. Only when she’d made it clear that she’d bleed out before letting him treat her wound while covered in zombie guts, did he finally relent. Even then, the second she was done, he scooped her up and carried her into the living room before plopping her onto the couch. He briefly disappeared into the kitchen, only to come back with a bottle of cheap whiskey to sterilize her wound with.

He poured a little bit of alcohol onto a clean rag and set the bottle down on the coffee table, before beginning to disinfect the deep cut on her forearm with gentle ministrations. It stung, but Lelia didn’t so much as twitch, used to far worse. Instead, she stared at the whiskey curiously.

It smelled something awful, nothing like the top shelf liquor her father and husband used to drink. Lelia found herself itching to try it regardless—neither man had ever let her have anything more than half a glass of champagne. Hard liquor wasn’t ladylike, after all.

She’d had a terrible dream about Andrew last night. Just the memory of it—hands, pushing her head underwater as his cock forced its way inside her—made her shudder. Maybe it was that—that need for reassurance that she was no longer his pretty little art piece to destroy on a whim—that had her reaching for the bottle. Maybe it was her brush with death earlier that day that had her taking a generous sip. Whatever it was, she regretted it instantly, the whiskey polluting her mouth with a taste so foul she thought she might be sick. It was even worse going down, burning her throat and making her cough like someone dying of tuberculosis.

Simon laughed, that familiar, gravelly chuckle settling in her chest, warm and heavy. Or perhaps that was the whiskey. Either way, she wanted to hear it again, so when Simon reached for the bottle to take it away from her, she pouted and took another, big sip. She gagged in between her coughs this time, but it was worth it. It was so worth it, because suddenly, Simon’s cold fingers left her bandaged arm, plucking the bottle from her grasp and setting it back on the table, before he tugged her off of the couch and into his lap. He gathered both her wrists in one hand, pinning them between their chests as he took her chin in the other. He swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, wiping away a drop of alcohol.

“Naughhhhh’yyyy,” he groaned, low and playful, and Lelia sucked in a sharp breath, eyelashes fluttering. The warmth spread outwards from her chest, and a shuddering gasp escaped her, hot air ghosting over Simon’s fingers as she fell into his touch, irresistibly drawn to him. She could have sworn she saw his own cloudy, speckled eyes darken, and felt his loose grip on her wrists tighten. Wishful thinking, probably, but she was struggling to think rationally between the slight buzz of alcohol in her brain and the dizziness caused by his touch.

Lelia shifted a little bit, straddling his strong things. Her heart raced in her chest and part of her knew she wouldn’t be so bold if not for the whiskey—but maybe that was why she had drank it after all. She just wanted to be as close to Simon as possible. She’d tuck herself inside the hollow of his chest, if she could.

He could be inside you.

Lelia shivered at the thought. That nervous squirming sensation in her belly was back, but she knew by now it wasn’t fear—it was something she had never experienced before, at least not to the degree Simon’s touches caused. No, it was the feeling she got when she saw a fit actor on the telly take off his shirt. It was the feeling she got when her Year Eleven English teacher—a handsome, slightly older man that wore reading glasses and sweater vests—called her a good girl for helping her fellow students whenever they didn’t understand the material like she did. And shamefully, it was the feeling she sometimes got—very rarely—when Andrew or the soldiers took her. But this time, there was no terror or disgust attached to the moment. There was just Simon, and how he made her feel. Safe. Treasured.

Aroused.

Simon was silent and still beneath her. He’d let go of her wrists, and his hands drifted down her body to settle on her hips, thumbs slipping under the hem of her sleep shirt to rub circles into her flesh. She swallowed, and then leaned forward, until her lips pressed against the hard plastic of his mask, right over his forehead. He shuddered, grip tightening, and Lelia moved her lips lower, kissing the spot just beneath his left eye, then his right.

“Please,” she begged Simon, voice soft and needy. “Please take it off… I want to see you. I want to see all of you.”

Simon stared up at her with an unreadable look in his foggy eyes, taking deep, rattling breaths even though she knew he didn’t need to. But then he jerked his head to the side sharply, a denial.

“Sssscaa’eee… yyyyouuu,” he mumbled, looking away. Lelia’s heart broke, and she tried to gently turn his face back towards hers, but he wouldn’t budge. She sighed, resting her temple against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck, eyes still trained on him.

“You could never scare me, Simon,” she whispered. “Never. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel safe.”

Don’t.

Ghost knew he should listen to the voice in his head—not Johnny’s, for once—and refuse. He’d traumatize his sweet little dove if she caught a glimpse of him. He could see it all too clearly—the second his gaunt, rotted face was revealed to her, she’d start crying and lock herself in her room.

But she’d asked, and he was pure shite at saying no to her.

Slowly, he reached up and began to lift his mask. Lelia’s eyes widened and she straightened before going perfectly still, watching with rapt attention. He swallowed thickly, fucking terrified that she would scream and run away. That this would ruin everything between them.

“Please,” she whispered again when he paused, hesitating. He gave a full-body twitch, but then yanked his mask the rest of the way off, like he was ripping off a plaster. She gasped, and Simon closed his eyes, unable to stand the sight of the horrified expression that was bound to be on her face.

Several seconds of silence passed, but then suddenly, he felt Lelia’s plush lips on his forehead. His eyes snapped open as she began to pepper his face with lingering kisses, just like she had his mask. He could feel the softness of her skin, the feathery touch and addictive warmth.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed in between kisses. Simon could barely hear her, entranced with the delicious, searing heat of her mouth on his cheeks, his nose, even his broken jaw and the corner of his lipless mouth. “Thank you… thank you for trusting me… for caring for me… for saving me… Simon, I—”

She cut herself off, pulling back to look into his eyes. As his hands found her hips again, he watched her carefully, a part of him still waiting for rejection.

“I love you, Simon.”

I love you. I love you. I love you, Simon.

Lelia’s soft words rang in his ears. He let out a choked noise, his hands squeezing her so tightly she whimpered. He immediately let go of her, and she looked at him with a mortified expression.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a rush, blinking rapidly as her eyes grew shiny. “Just— just forget I s-said anything, I shouldn’t h-have, I’m sorry—”

Simon didn’t have lips to kiss his dove with. He didn’t have the words to tell her how badly he wanted her. He couldn’t press her palm to his chest and show her how she made his heart race, the sensation just a phantom of memory.

But fuck, if he wouldn’t bloody well try.

He laid a hand over her heart, and recalled one of the first poems she read him—a favorite of hers, she’d said. Carefully, he spoke.

“Cccaaaarrryyyy thiiiiisss,” he patted his own chest with his other hand. “Innn hheeeerre.” The tears in her eyes spilled over, and finally, finally, she surged forward, her mouth crashing against. And for the first time since he’d died, Simon felt truly human.

[izzyhandsdeservedbetter]

THE WEIGHT OF SILENCE PART 2

This is part 2 of the previous fic, i want to thank the wonderful @ghost-inthemirror who helped me with this!! :D Please Enjoy!

Aaron had managed two days of hiding.

Two days of skipping classes, of letting Kevin bring him food, of pretending the antiseptic stinging between his thighs was just part of some clinical aftercare routine. Two days of telling himself the bruises would fade, the bite mark under the bandage would scab over, and none of it would matter if he could just keep his hands from shaking long enough to hold a pen.

But today, he had to go back.

Andrew hadn’t said a word to him since the blowup, and Nicky’s disappointed glances had morphed into something closer to resigned pity. The silence was worse than the yelling. At least the yelling had been something.

Kevin was the only one who didn’t treat him like glass—or worse, like a liar.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Kevin asked, leaning against the doorframe as Aaron tugged on a hoodie, the sleeves pulled down over his wrists.

Aaron didn’t look at him. “I can’t skip forever.”

Kevin hummed, noncommittal. “Abby and Wymack already said you don’t have to practice yet. You could take more time.”

“I don’t need more time.” The words came out sharper than he meant them to.

Kevin didn’t flinch. Just nodded. “Okay. But I’m coming with you.”

Aaron blinked. “To class?”

“Yeah.” Kevin shrugged, like it was nothing. “I’ll sneak in. Sit in the back. No one will notice.”

Aaron opened his mouth to argue—you don’t have to, it’s fine, I can handle it—but the thought of walking into that lecture hall alone made his throat close.

“…Okay,” he said quietly.

The university halls were too bright, too loud. Aaron kept his head down, his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched like he could make himself smaller. Kevin walked beside him, close enough that their arms brushed every few steps, a silent I’m here.

Aaron was grateful for it.

Until he remembered where they were going.

Calloway’s class.

His stomach twisted. He hadn’t thought about it when he’d agreed to come back—hadn’t let himself think about it—but now, with every step closer, his chest tightened.

Kevin noticed. Of course he did.

“You’re dragging your feet,” he murmured, slowing his pace to match Aaron’s.

Aaron swallowed. “Just tired.”

Kevin didn’t call him out on the lie. Just nudged him lightly. “Tell me about the last match you watched. Who was playing?”

Aaron knew what he was doing. Knew Kevin was distracting him, giving him something else to focus on. He latched onto it like a lifeline, rambling about stats and plays, his voice steadier than he felt.

It worked. Until they turned the corner.

Until he saw him.

Calloway stood outside the lecture hall, talking to a group of students, his smile easy, his posture relaxed. Like nothing had happened. Like Aaron had never happened.

Aaron stopped dead.

His vision tunneled. His breath came too fast, too shallow. The hall swayed around him, the voices of passing students blurring into static.

Kevin was in front of him in an instant, blocking his view, his hands firm on Aaron’s shoulders.

“Breathe,” Kevin said, low and urgent. “Look at me. Just me.”

Aaron tried. He really did. But the air wouldn’t reach his lungs.

“We’re leaving,” Kevin said, already steering him away. ��Bathroom first. Somewhere quiet.”

Bathroom.

The word sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He shook his head violently, his fingers digging into Kevin’s sleeves. “No.”

Kevin didn’t hesitate. “Okay. Not the bathroom. Library? Courtyard?”

Aaron didn’t care. As long as it was away.

Kevin didn’t wait for an answer. He guided them down a side hall, his grip on Aaron’s arm steady, grounding.

Aaron let himself be led.

For the first time in days, he didn’t feel alone.

Kevin didn’t take Aaron to the library or the courtyard. Instead, he guided him down a series of lesser-used hallways, past empty classrooms and faculty offices, until they reached a small, unmarked door tucked between two lecture halls. He fished a key from his pocket—somehow, of course Kevin had access to places no one else did—and pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room lined with glass cases and shelves cluttered with replica artifacts.

The air inside was still, thick with the scent of old paper and dust. It was quiet. Safe.

Aaron barely registered the room before his legs gave out.

Kevin caught him before he hit the ground, easing him onto a worn-out couch shoved against the far wall. He knelt in front of Aaron, hands steady on his shoulders, voice low and grounding.

"Breathe. Just breathe. You’re okay."

Aaron wasn’t okay. His chest was too tight, his lungs refusing to cooperate. The edges of his vision blurred, and he clutched at Kevin’s sleeves like they were the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Kevin didn’t pull away. Didn’t rush him. Just kept talking, soft and steady, until Aaron’s gasps turned into shaky exhales, until the world stopped spinning quite so violently.

And then—then came the tears.

Aaron didn’t sob loudly. He didn’t wail or scream. It was worse than that. Silent, broken, like his body was too exhausted to even cry properly.

Kevin didn’t hesitate. He pulled Aaron forward, wrapping his arms around him, holding him together when it felt like he might shatter.

For a long time, neither of them moved.

Then Kevin spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

"Aaron, mon amour, I know you’re not ready to talk about it yet, but I’m really worried. Can you please tell me what’s going on? I just want to help."

Aaron shuddered.

He didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to make it real. But Kevin was here, holding him, believing him, and suddenly the words were spilling out in a fractured, broken rush.

"It was Calloway. In the hospital bathroom. He—he locked the door, and I couldn’t—I tried to get away, but he—"

Kevin went rigid.

Aaron felt the exact moment the words registered, the way Kevin’s grip tightened, his breath hitching like he’d been punched.

For a second, Aaron thought Kevin might let go. Might stand up and walk out and find Calloway and—

But then Aaron shifted, just slightly, and a sharp, stabbing pain tore through him.

He whimpered.

Kevin froze.

"Aaron?"

Aaron didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Kevin’s eyes dropped to the couch beneath them—to the dark, spreading stain seeping into the fabric.

Blood.

Aaron’s face burned. He wanted to disappear.

Kevin, though—Kevin moved like lightning.

He stood, yanking his jacket off in one sharp motion, and before Aaron could even process what was happening, Kevin was kneeling in front of him again, holding the jacket out.

"Can I?"

Aaron nodded, too numb to protest.

Kevin’s hands were gentle as he carefully draped the jacket around Aaron’s waist, tying the sleeves securely to keep it in place. Then he turned, grabbing a handful of tissues from a nearby desk and pressing them against the bloodstain on the couch, blotting it quickly.

Aaron watched, dazed, as Kevin turned back to him, his expression unreadable.

"I’m going to pick you up now, okay? It might hurt, but I’ll be as careful as I can."

Aaron barely had time to nod before Kevin was sliding one arm under his knees, the other around his back, lifting him with a careful, controlled strength.

Aaron winced.

Kevin immediately stilled. "Did I hurt you?"

Aaron shook his head, but his fingers dug into Kevin’s shoulders, his breath coming too fast.

Kevin’s jaw tightened. "I’m sorry. Just hold on."

Then he was moving, striding out of the room, down the hall, faster and faster until he was practically running.

Aaron closed his eyes, pressing his face against Kevin’s shoulder, trying to ignore the pain, the humiliation, the way his body trembled with every step.

Kevin didn’t stop. Not once. Not until they reached Abby’s office.

Then he kicked the door open, his voice raw with something Aaron had never heard from him before.

"Abby. Now."

The text came through while Andrew was in the middle of practice, his phone vibrating insistently in his pocket until he finally yanked it out with an irritated huff. The message from Abby was short and to the point: Aaron needed help. He’s in my office now.

Andrew’s blood ran cold.

He didn’t say a word to Wymack. Didn’t bother with excuses. Just turned on his heel and walked off the court, his grip on his racquet tight enough to make his knuckles ache. Neil, ever observant, took one look at his face and followed without question.

The walk to Abby’s office felt endless. Andrew’s mind raced through possibilities—relapse, overdose, injury—each worse than the last. By the time they reached the door, his pulse was a hammer against his ribs, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

Kevin was nowhere in sight when they arrived. The only person waiting outside was Neil, who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

Andrew didn’t bother asking him what was going on. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The sight that greeted him was—

Aaron, asleep on the exam table, his face pale and drawn, his hands curled loosely at his sides. Abby stood nearby, sorting through supplies, but she looked up when Andrew entered.

"He’s fine," she said quietly, before Andrew could demand answers. "Just exhausted. Kevin brought him in."

Andrew didn’t respond. He crossed the room in three strides and dropped into the chair beside the table, his eyes fixed on Aaron’s face.

Silence settled over the room, thick and suffocating.

Neil slipped in a moment later, lingering near the door before moving to stand beside Andrew. Neither of them spoke.

It was Neil who broke the quiet first, his voice low. "Where’s Kevin?"

Abby glanced up. "He went to get something Aaron asked for. He should be back soon."

Andrew’s fingers twitched against his knee. He didn’t take his eyes off Aaron.

Then—movement.

Aaron stirred, his breath hitching before his eyes fluttered open. For a second, he just blinked, disoriented, before his gaze landed on Andrew.

He went rigid.

Andrew didn’t miss it.

"Aaron," he said, voice flat.

Aaron didn’t answer. His fingers tightened around the edge of the exam table, his breath coming faster.

Neil shifted beside Andrew, but he didn’t speak. Just watched, his expression carefully blank.

Andrew tried again. "What happened?"

Silence.

Aaron’s throat worked, but no sound came out. His knuckles were white where they gripped the table.

Andrew’s patience snapped. "Stop fucking ignoring me."

Aaron flinched.

The reaction was like a spark to tinder. Andrew’s temper flared, hot and sudden, but before he could say anything else, the door swung open.

Kevin stepped inside, a small paper bag clutched in one hand. His expression was unreadable as he took in the scene—Andrew looming over Aaron, Neil hovering nearby, Aaron tense and silent.

For a second, no one moved.

Then Andrew turned on Kevin. "What the fuck is going on?"

Kevin didn’t react to the venom in his voice. He just held up the bag. "This isn’t for you."

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. "Give it to me."

Aaron made a noise—small, panicked—and Kevin’s grip on the bag tightened.

"No."

Andrew’s temper flared. He took a step forward, hand outstretched, but Kevin didn’t budge.

"It’s not your choice," Kevin said, voice low but firm. "It’s Aaron’s."

Andrew’s jaw clenched. He turned back to Aaron, who was watching them with wide, wary eyes.

"Aaron," Andrew ground out. "Tell him to give it to me."

Aaron didn’t speak. Just shook his head, once, sharp and final.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Andrew stared at him, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before his expression shuttered completely. He took a step back, then another, before turning on his heel and walking out.

The door slammed behind him.

Neil hesitated, glancing between Aaron and Kevin before following without a word.

The room was quiet again.

Kevin exhaled slowly, then crossed to Aaron’s side, holding out the bag.

Aaron took it with trembling hands.

Abby finally stepped forward, her voice gentle. "Aaron, do you want to tell me what’s going on?"

Aaron’s grip on the bag tightened. He didn’t look at her.

Kevin answered for him. "Not yet."

Abby studied them both for a long moment before nodding. "Okay," she said softly. "Whenever you’re ready."

Aaron didn’t respond. Just clutched the bag to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him anchored.

Kevin didn’t leave his side.

Andrew paced outside Abby's office like a caged animal, his hands flexing at his sides, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. The not-knowing was eating him alive—Aaron was hurt, scared, hiding something, and Andrew couldn't fucking fix it if he didn't understand what was broken.

Neil leaned against the wall nearby, watching him with that unsettling, unblinking stare. "You're making it worse," he said quietly.

Andrew whirled on him. "I don't see you doing anything useful."

Neil didn't flinch. "Because yelling at him clearly worked so well."

Andrew's fingers twitched toward his armbands, but before he could snap back, the door cracked open. Aaron stood there, pale and drawn, his fingers gripping the frame like he needed it to stay upright.

"Can you guys... go?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Just—just for a bit. Kevin can stay."

Andrew's stomach dropped.

Kevin could stay.

Not him. Not Neil. Kevin.

Something dark and ugly curled in his chest, whispering that maybe he needed to fix Kevin in a way that involved knives and silence—

But then Neil was moving, nudging Andrew's shoulder with his own. "Come on," he murmured.

Andrew didn't want to go. But Aaron was looking at him like he was the threat, like Andrew was the one who'd put that fear in his eyes, and that—that fucking hurt in a way Andrew didn't have words for.

So he left.

Inside, Kevin turned his back without a word as Aaron changed into the hospital gown, his shoulders tense. The rustle of fabric was too loud in the quiet room, the occasional hitch in Aaron's breath the only other sound.

When Abby began working, Kevin didn't let go of Aaron's hand.

Aaron squeezed his fingers so hard it hurt.

Abby's expression never wavered, clinical and focused, even as her eyes grew glassy. When she finished, she read the report in silence, then examined the clothes—the torn fabric, the stains, the evidence—before setting them aside with a slow exhale.

Finally, she spoke. "Aaron," she said gently, "Andrew and Neil are safe. You can trust them."

Aaron shook his head, his throat working.

"You don't have to tell Neil," Abby continued. "But Andrew... he needs to know."

Kevin's thumb brushed over Aaron's knuckles. "She's right."

Aaron's breath shuddered.

Abby hesitated, then asked, "Who was it?"

Aaron closed his eyes. "Calloway."

Two sentences. That was all he could manage.

"Cornered and locked me in the bathroom. Climbed into my stall and grabbed me when I tried to leave. He drugged me."

Abby's face tightened, but she just nodded. "Tell Andrew," she repeated softly. Then she left, the door clicking shut behind her.

Silence.

Aaron's grip on Kevin's hand was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Abby stepped out into the hallway where Andrew and Neil waited, their tension palpable in the stiff set of their shoulders, the restless shift of their weight. She took a slow breath before speaking, her voice low but firm.

"Listen to me very carefully," she said, locking eyes with each of them in turn. "No matter what you hear in there, you cannot react. Not in anger, not in frustration, not in any way that might make Aaron feel unsafe. He’s trusting you with something incredibly difficult, and if you break that trust now, it will take a long time to rebuild. Do you understand?"

Neil nodded immediately, his expression grave. Andrew said nothing, but the way his jaw clenched told her he’d heard.

Abby held his gaze. "Andrew. Do you understand?"

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Then, barely audible: "Yes."

She exhaled. "Good. Then come in."

The sight that greeted them when they entered was enough to make Andrew’s pulse spike.

Aaron was curled into the far corner of the hospital bed, knees drawn to his chest, fingers twisting anxiously in the blanket draped over his lap. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen, his bottom lip bitten raw. Kevin sat beside him, one arm wrapped securely around Aaron’s shoulders, his other hand rubbing slow, soothing circles into his arm.

Andrew’s first instinct was to rip Kevin away.

His second was to kill whatever had put that look on Aaron’s face.

But Abby’s warning echoed in his head, so he forced himself to stay still, to follow Neil’s lead as they moved to sit in the chairs beside the bed.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Then Aaron spoke.

His voice was so soft Andrew almost missed it.

"I wasn’t lying when I told you I hadn’t relapsed," Aaron whispered, staring down at his hands. "And I was actually at the hospital. I was—" He swallowed hard, his breath hitching. "I was assaulted."

The words hit like a physical blow.

Andrew’s vision tunneled. Blood roared in his ears, drowning out everything else—Neil’s sharp inhale, Abby’s quiet murmur, Kevin’s tightening grip on Aaron.

Aaron kept talking, his voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears. "I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, or—or if I could. I just didn’t want you to hate me, or think I was weak—"

His voice broke. He ducked his head, hiding his face in his knees, his shoulders shaking.

Kevin pulled him closer, murmuring something too low for Andrew to hear, but Andrew wasn’t listening.

He couldn’t.

Because suddenly, he wasn’t in Abby’s office anymore.

He was thirteen again, standing in a too-bright motel room, his hands sticky with blood that wasn’t his, his brother’s voice ringing in his ears—

"Don’t tell. Don’t ever tell."

Neil was saying something, his voice steady, grounding, but Andrew didn’t hear that either.

He stood.

Kevin tensed, his grip on Aaron tightening protectively, but Andrew didn’t even look at him.

He crossed the room in three strides and knelt beside Aaron’s bed.

Then, slowly, carefully, he reached for Aaron’s hands.

Aaron flinched at the contact, but Andrew didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled Aaron’s hands toward him, pressing them against his own face—his cheeks, his forehead, his mouth—like he was trying to breathe him in, like he could somehow absorb the pain through touch alone.

Aaron lifted his head, confused—then froze.

Because Andrew was crying.

Silent, steady tears streaked down his face, dripping onto Aaron’s knuckles, his wrists, his trembling fingers.

Aaron had never seen Andrew cry.

Neither had Neil.

For a long moment, no one moved. No one spoke.

Then Andrew exhaled, ragged and broken, and leaned forward until his forehead rested against Aaron’s knees.

His voice, when it came, was barely a whisper.

"Never weak," he said. "Never."

Aaron sobbed.

And Andrew held on.

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the quiet sound of Andrew’s ragged breathing and the occasional hitch in Aaron’s chest as he tried to steady his own. Neil had stepped back, giving them space, while Kevin remained close but no longer touching Aaron, his presence a silent guard. Abby had retreated to the corner of the room, giving them this moment but ready to step in if needed.

Andrew still knelt beside the bed, Aaron’s hands pressed against his face, his own tears dampening his brother’s skin. His shoulders trembled, his entire body wound tight with something Aaron had never seen in him before—guilt.

Then Andrew spoke, his voice so quiet it was barely audible.

"I’m sorry."

Aaron blinked, his breath catching.

Andrew didn’t stop.

"I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the call. I’m sorry I didn’t come looking for you when you didn’t answer. I’m sorry I wasn’t there." His voice cracked, his grip on Aaron’s hands tightening. "I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry I accused you of relapsing. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me. I’m sorry I didn’t check on you. I’m sorry I didn’t try."

Each apology was like a hammer to Aaron’s chest, each one more raw than the last. Andrew’s voice was breaking, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if he’d been holding them back for years.

Aaron had never heard Andrew apologize for anything. Not like this. Not with tears streaking down his face, not with his voice shaking like he was coming undone.

Andrew kept going.

"I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I let this happen to you. I’m sorry—" His breath hitched. "I’m sorry I wasn’t the brother you deserved."

Aaron couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. All he could do was stare at Andrew, his own tears blurring his vision.

Then Andrew whispered, "Can you ever forgive me?"

Before Aaron could even open his mouth to answer, Andrew shook his head sharply, cutting himself off.

"No—no, it’s fine. You don’t have to. You don’t owe me that. Just—just let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Let me fix this. Let me protect you, the way I should have from the beginning."

Aaron’s heart shattered.

Because Andrew wasn’t just apologizing. He was begging.

And Aaron—

Aaron couldn’t take it anymore.

He swallowed hard, his throat tight, and whispered, "Andrew."

Andrew stilled, his eyes lifting to meet Aaron’s, red-rimmed and desperate.

Aaron took a shaky breath. "Can I—can I hug you?"

Andrew froze.

For a second, Aaron thought he hadn’t heard him. Then Andrew’s expression flickered—something between disbelief and fear—and he hesitated, his hands twitching like he wanted to reach out but couldn’t.

Like he was waiting for Aaron to take it back.

Like he expected Aaron to shove him away, to scream at him, to tell him he didn’t forgive him, that he never would.

That broke Aaron more than anything else.

A fresh wave of tears spilled down his cheeks, his breath hitching on a sob.

Andrew panicked. "Aaron—"

Aaron didn’t let him finish. He just held his arms out, his voice cracking.

"I want you to hug me."

Andrew’s breath left him in a rush.

Then—

He moved.

In one swift motion, Andrew surged forward, wrapping his arms around Aaron and pulling him close, so close, like he was afraid Aaron would disappear if he let go. One hand cradled the back of Aaron’s head, fingers tangling gently in his hair, the other pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, holding him together.

Aaron buried his face in Andrew’s shoulder, his own arms winding tight around his brother’s waist, clinging to him like a lifeline.

Andrew held him like the world was ending.

And for the first time in days—

Aaron felt safe.

Andrew had never been good with touch.

Even now, with Aaron trembling in his arms, his first instinct was to tense—muscles locking, breath catching, the ghost of a flinch rippling through him before he could suppress it. But he didn’t let go. Wouldn’t. Not when Aaron was clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left in the world, not when his little brother’s tears were soaking through his shirt, not when every ragged sob felt like another crack in his own ribcage.

So Andrew held on tighter.

Pressed his lips to the crown of Aaron’s head, a silent promise—I’m here, I’m not leaving, I’ve got you—and let his own tears fall unchecked into Aaron’s hair.

Aaron only cried harder.

His fingers twisted in Andrew’s shirt, knuckles white, like he was convinced Andrew would vanish if he loosened his grip for even a second. The thought was ridiculous. Andrew wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever again.

But Aaron didn’t know that.

So Andrew held him closer.

Across the room, Neil and Kevin stood frozen.

Neil had seen Andrew angry. Had seen him cold, calculated, vicious. Had seen him bleed and laugh about it.

He had never seen him cry.

And Aaron—

Neil’s chest ached. Aaron, who always scoffed at sentiment, who rolled his eyes at dramatics, who carried himself like he was made of steel—now curled into Andrew’s arms, shaking apart like he’d never be whole again.

Neil’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

Kevin, beside him, was eerily still. His expression was blank, but his eyes—

Neil had seen that look before. On himself. On Andrew.

Murderous.

Kevin’s voice was dangerously quiet when he finally spoke.

"Who was it?"

Neil didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Because in that moment, they were thinking the exact same thing.

Kevin had never considered himself a violent person.

Not like Andrew, who wore his brutality like a second skin. Not like Neil, who fought like he had nothing left to lose.

But this—

This was different.

Aaron, who had spent years building himself into someone untouchable, now shattered in Andrew’s arms.

Andrew, who had spent his entire life pretending he didn’t feel, now crying silently into his brother’s hair.

And whoever had done this—

Kevin’s jaw clenched.

He didn’t need details. Didn’t need to know the how or the why.

All he needed was a name.

And then—

Then he would make sure they suffered.

Neil, ever the pragmatist, was already three steps ahead.

"We’ll need alibis," he murmured, voice low enough that only Kevin could hear.

Kevin didn’t hesitate. "I have connections at the hospital. Records can disappear."

Neil’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Wymack will cover for us."

"Abby won’t."

"Abby doesn’t have to know."

Kevin nodded once, sharp and final.

It was decided.

Aaron, exhausted and emotionally drained, had finally cried himself to sleep in Andrew’s arms.

Andrew hadn’t moved. Wouldn’t. Not until he was sure Aaron was deep enough asleep that he wouldn’t wake when Andrew finally laid him down.

Neil and Kevin had retreated to the far corner of the room, their hushed conversation barely audible over the steady hum of the hospital equipment.

Andrew didn’t care what they were talking about.

All that mattered was Aaron.

His brother.

His family.

And the person who had hurt him.

Because Andrew might have promised Abby he wouldn’t react in front of Aaron.

But he’d made no such promises for afterward.

The lawsuit against Calloway was brutal.

It wasn’t just Aaron’s word against his—it was a mountain of evidence, meticulously gathered and presented with cold precision. The unwashed clothes sealed in evidence bags, the rape kit performed at the hospital, the CCTV footage from the hospital hallway showing Aaron entering the bathroom alone, Calloway following minutes later, the door locking behind them. Two hours passed before Calloway emerged, adjusting his tie like it was any other day. Another hour before Aaron stumbled out, pale and shaking, his clothes disheveled, his gait unsteady. The footage of Daniel and Mira rushing to help him, their faces etched with concern as they half-carried him to an isolated treatment room.

Then there was the university footage—Calloway’s lingering touches, the way his fingers brushed Aaron’s wrist when handing back papers, the way he crowded into his space during office hours. The damning proof of Aaron filing a complaint with the administration, only to be dismissed with a bored sigh and a muttered, "Professor Calloway is a respected faculty member. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it."

The evidence was irrefutable.

But the hardest part was Aaron’s testimony.

He had to recount, in written and verbal form, exactly what happened in that bathroom. Had to describe the way Calloway had locked the door, the way he’d climbed over the stall partition, the way he’d pinned Aaron down and drugged him when he fought back. Had to sit in a courtroom full of strangers and relive every second of it while Calloway’s lawyer sneered at him, implying he’d wanted it, that he was lying for attention.

Andrew had nearly lost it then.

If it weren’t for Kevin’s iron grip on his arm and Neil’s sharp, warning glare, he would have vaulted over the railing and strangled the lawyer with his own tie.

But Aaron held his ground.

His voice never wavered.

And when Calloway’s defense tried to argue that he was just a "respected professor and doctor who was only trying to be encouraging," the judge’s expression turned to ice.

Then the other testimonies started pouring in.

One by one, former students and hospital interns stepped forward—some in person, some through written statements—all with the same story. Calloway’s "encouragement" had always come with strings attached. With lingering touches. With whispered threats. With the unspoken understanding that if they spoke up, their careers would be over.

Aaron wasn’t the first.

He was just the first to fight back.

The jury didn’t even need to deliberate.

Guilty on all counts.

Calloway was sentenced to life in prison without parole.

Aaron didn’t react when the verdict was read. Just sat there, numb, as the courtroom erupted around him.

Andrew didn’t cheer. Didn’t celebrate. Just reached over and squeezed Aaron’s hand, his grip tight enough to bruise.

Aaron squeezed back.

And if Calloway was found dead in his cell a week later..? Well no one mourns the wicked.

The trial had been public.

Calloway hadn’t waived his right to a jury, which meant every sordid detail had been broadcast for the world to see. Aaron’s name, his face, what had been done to him—all of it was out there, dissected by strangers who had no right to his pain.

It was the last thing he wanted.

But he wasn’t alone.

Andrew, Kevin, and Neil became his guard dogs, his shields against the world. They didn’t coddle him, didn’t treat him like glass—but they also didn’t tolerate anyone else doing so.

Nicky had been told what happened, and his reaction had been... messy. A lot of crying, a lot of "I’m so sorry," a lot of reaching for Aaron before remembering—

Aaron couldn’t handle touch right now.

Not from most people, anyway.

Andrew and Kevin were the exceptions. As long as Aaron could see it coming, as long as he had control, he could tolerate their hands on his shoulders, their fingers brushing his wrist. But anyone else?

Nicky had learned that the hard way when he’d tried to hug Aaron and Aaron had flinched so violently he’d nearly fallen over.

The heartbreak on Nicky’s face had been unbearable.

The heartbreak on Andrew’s face—knowing that, of all the ways Aaron could have resembled him, this was the one that stuck—was worse.

The Foxes, for the most part, were careful.

They didn’t ask questions. Didn’t treat Aaron like he was fragile.

But there were still moments—

A too-loud noise making him tense. A sudden movement sending him scrambling back. A well-meaning teammate stepping too close and freezing when Aaron’s breath hitched.

Andrew, Kevin, and Neil had zero tolerance for it.

If a Fox acted like Aaron was made of glass, they got bodychecked into next week.

Nicky was no exception.

Neither was anyone else who dared bring it up, whether out of curiosity or cruelty.

Andrew had broken a reporter’s nose for asking Aaron how it felt to be "the victim."

Kevin had nearly gotten into a fistfight with a classmate who’d whispered "I always knew there was something off about him" within earshot.

Neil had calmly informed a nosy TA that if they didn’t back off, he’d make sure their car "mysteriously" exploded.

Aaron had rolled his eyes at all of it.

But he didn’t tell them to stop.

It wasn’t easy.

Aaron still flinched at unexpected touches. Still woke up gasping from nightmares. Still had days where he couldn’t stand to be looked at, let alone touched.

But he wasn’t alone.

Andrew was there, silent and steady, a constant presence at his side.

Kevin was there, grounding him with a hand on his shoulder when the world got too loud.

Neil was there, distracting him with ridiculous Exy plays and even more ridiculous bets.

And slowly, painfully, Aaron began to heal.

Not all scars faded.

But some?

Some became easier to carry.

In the weeks following the trial, something shifted across campus.

Aaron hadn’t expected it—hadn’t even considered that his decision to press charges might mean something beyond his own case. But as he walked through the university halls now, he noticed the way certain students would meet his eyes just a second longer than before. The way interns at the hospital would nod to him in the corridors, their expressions unreadable but their shoulders straighter when he passed.

At first, he thought it was pity.

Then the notes started appearing in his locker.

"Thank you."

"You were braver than I could be."

"Because of you, I reported my supervisor last week."

No signatures. No names. Just scraps of paper slipped between the vents of his locker, left on his desk in empty classrooms, tucked into the pages of library books he checked out.

Aaron didn’t know what to do with them.

He showed Andrew the first one, half-expecting him to scoff or tear it up. But Andrew had just stared at the crumpled post-it note—"I didn’t speak up when he did it to me. But you did. Thank you."—before carefully folding it and handing it back.

"Keep them," was all he said.

It wasn’t just notes.

A third-year med student—tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of guy who looked like he’d never been afraid of anything in his life—stopped Aaron outside the library one afternoon.

"I testified against my advisor because of you," he said bluntly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Got him fired last week."

Aaron blinked. "I—what?"

The guy shrugged, looking at the ground. "Saw the trial. Saw how you just... fucking sat there while that lawyer tore into you. Realized if you could do that, I could at least file a damn report." He glanced up, jaw tight. "So. Thanks."

He walked away before Aaron could respond.

Even at the hospital, things changed.

Daniel and Mira—the two interns who’d helped him that night—started sitting with him during breaks. Not to talk about what happened, just... to sit there. To make sure he always had someone nearby when Calloway’s old colleagues walked by.

One of the senior surgeons, a woman with steel-gray hair and a reputation for terrifying residents, pulled Aaron aside after his shift one day.

"Minyard," she said, handing him a file. "You’re assisting in my OR next week. Don’t be late."

It was the kind of opportunity first-years never got.

Aaron knew what it was—an unspoken I believe you, a you belong here, a don’t let that bastard take this from you too.

He took the file.

It should have felt like a victory.

In some ways, it was.

But Aaron still woke up sweating some nights, still flinched at sudden movements, still had to fight the urge to vomit whenever he smelled the antiseptic from that bathroom.

The difference now was that he wasn’t fighting alone.

Andrew was there when he woke up gasping, silent and steady with a glass of water and a fresh shirt.

Kevin was there during the day, his presence a quiet anchor in lecture halls and hospital corridors.

Neil was there with his sharp humor, distracting Aaron with increasingly ridiculous Exy debates whenever the silence grew too heavy.

And the others—the students, the interns, the strangers who’d been carrying their own pain in silence—they were there too, in their own ways.

Not with pity.

With respect.

The final note appeared a month after the trial.

Aaron found it taped to his apartment door, written in neat, looping handwriting:

"They revoked his medical license yesterday. You did that. However you feel about it—whatever comes next—remember that."

Andrew read it over his shoulder.

For once, he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t have to.

Aaron folded the note carefully and slipped it into his wallet.

Then he went inside, locking the door behind them both.

FIN!

PART 1

[morgana-larkin]

Alright so I guess I'm missing mama mel as I already wrote the next chapter of Mine. So as I wrote the realisation that the twins were turning 2, I realised that I barely include them in the chapters so in this one I included them in the entire thing and Nico has multiple things to say. And yes I do have a plan with Caterina, don't worry. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Summary: You all go on a family trip to the store to get things for the twins rooms.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Mine - Part 15

Warnings: Reference to smut, swearing, one insult about age gap relationships

Words: 4.6K

“I can’t believe you.” You tell Melissa as you’re pacing back and forth in the bedroom with one of her shirts on.

“I already said I’m sorry.” Melissa says as she’s sitting on the bed. 

“Did you do that on purpose?” You ask her and she shakes her head. 

“Just forgot to pull out.”

“You finished inside of me, I could get pregnant again.” You say and Melissa gets up, comes over to you and wraps her arms around your waist.

“You know I would never do that purposely, I love you too much for that. I would never do anything that you don’t want me to do, especially something that concerns your body.” Melissa tells you and you look at her. 

“I know, I’m sorry I got mad at you.” You say and wrap your arms around her.

“It’s alright. Although would 4 kids be so bad?” She asks and you look at her and raise your eyebrows. 

The two of you had a stressful week at work so since it was friday night Melissa wanted to fuck you with the strap with the promise to pull out. You agreed straight away but Melissa got too into it and forgot to pull out in time.

The next day Melissa is leaning against the doorframe looking at the twin’s shared bedroom that will be changed today. You two both agreed that since the twins are getting their toddler beds then it’s time they got their own room. After all, you both moved into a 5 bedroom house so all your kids can have their own room. Melissa goes downstairs to see you writing things down on a paper at the dinner table and you have your phone out.

“What are you doing? She asks and looks to see all the kids playing in the living room.

“Writing down everything that we need to decorate both of the twin’s bedrooms.” You say and she goes to sit beside you.

“What’s on it so far?” She asks and you finish writing before you put your pen down.

“2 toddler beds, 2 nightstands, 2 lamps, 1 nightlight, 2 carpets, 2 sets of sheets, 2 pillows and 2 toy chests.” You tell her.

“Why do they need carpets? They’re toddles.”

“Caty likes carpets, haven’t you noticed she doesn’t play on the floor?” You tell her.

“I have. How come you didn’t put down a bookshelf?” 

“They already have a bookshelf.”

“There’s only one.”

“I’m sure they can share, plus they can’t read yet.”

“They will have their own bookshelf as they’ll love reading.” Melissa tells you sternly and you raise your eyebrows.

“They’ll have their own bookshelf when they learn to read.” You say and turn back to the list.

“Fine. So what colours are we getting?” 

“I was thinking of getting purple for Caty and-”

“Purple? Why not pink?” Melissa says, interrupting you but you ignore her.

“-and red or blue for Nico.” You continue and Melissa doesn’t look impressed. “Pink is already for Amelia and she likes it. And as much as I love pink, maybe our daughters should have a different colour palette in their room.” You say and she sighs. “And their wardrobe as well.” You add after a couple seconds and she looks at you with wide eyes and gasps.

“Different colour clothes as well? Now you’re just talking crazy.” Melissa says and crosses her arms.

“Caty will keep getting Amelia’s old clothes but we could get her things in different colours. Like purple or blue or green or even black. You know, go through the rainbow a bit.” You tell her calmly.

“I think between us we already represent the rainbow enough.” She tells you and you shake your head and roll your eyes. “Besides, pink goes well with ginger hair.”

“It does, but I’ve seen you in different colours and you look good in all colours but red and green also look really good on you.”

“Medium blue for Caty.” Melissa suddenly says and you look at her. “It calms the mind and she likes blue toys.” She explains and you smile before writing it down. “Red for Nico.” She says after and you nod.

“So your cousins are picking up the cribs tomorrow?” You ask her and she nods. 

“Yep, he knows a couple who’s having twins in two months.” She tells you and you nod. 

“How are you feeling about the whole ‘our twins are becoming toddlers’?” You ask her and she sighs.

“I’m liking it and not liking it.” She says softly and you go over and sit on her lap and she wraps her arms around your waist. “I like that they’re growing up and we’ll be able to do more with them together but they’re not our little babies anymore.” She tells you and you wrap an arm around her neck and turn your body sideways and she lays her head on your chest. 

“I know Mel. But you’re right about the fact that we’ll be able to do more with them.” You say and she hums. “We gave Amelia her first swimming lesson when she was 2 and we can do it with the twins. We can go on picnics when it’s nice out or even the beach together. We can go to different restaurants as a family and you’ll be able to teach all 3 of them how to cook.” You tell her and she lifts her head off of you and smiles. Just then Melissa feels something hit her leg and she looks down to see Sweet Cheeks running around the house. 

“Sweet Cheeks! But how…?” She says and looks at the Cheeks family cage to see Amelia there looking guilty. “Amelia, did you let him out?” She asks. 

“I wanted to pet him.” Amelia tells her and you get off of Melissa, careful to not step on Sweet Cheeks. Melissa runs after Sweet Cheeks and catches him after a few attempts. 

“Amelia, if you want to pet him then you know you have to ask me or mommy.” Melissa tells her daughter. Amelia goes over to Melissa and Melissa crouches down so Amelia can pet him. 

“Guinea pig!” You all hear and look to see Nico walking towards Melissa and Amelia.

“That’s right. Sweet Cheeks is a Guinea pig.” Melissa tells him softly. “Do you want to pet him?” Melissa asks and he nods. “Remember to pet him gently.” Melissa reminds him. You watch Nico and Amelia pet Sweet Cheeks and then you see Caty playing by herself. 

“Caty, do you want to pet him?” You ask her and she looks up at you before going back to doing her puzzle.

“Soft.” Nico says and Melissa smiles.

“He’s very soft.” Melissa tells him. “Alright I’m going to put him back in the cage with his family.” Melissa says after a minute. 

“Alright, let’s go pick out some new pjs for Amelia and then go get some new furniture for the twins.” You say and everyone looks at you.

“So you can try this on and this one, as well as this one.” Melissa says as she keeps taking pjs off the rack and putting them in the cart for Amelia to try on.

“Melissa don’t you think that 20 pairs of pjs is enough for her to try on?” You ask her as you see Amelia sitting on the end of the cart, looking at all the outfits nervously. 

“Fine. Amelia, are there ones that you want to try on?” Melissa asks her and Amelia nods. 

Amelia goes through the pjs outfits and picks 5 that she wants to try. Melissa puts the other ones back and then you all go to the change rooms. Caty starts crying while Melissa is helping Amelia put the outfits on so you take her out of the stroller and sit her on your lap. Caty rests her head on your chest and starts calming down just before Amelia comes out in the first pj outfit. 

“What do you think of this one, mommy?” Amelia asks you and you can tell she really likes it. 

“I like it, do you like it sweetheart?” You ask her and she nods with a smile. 

Around noon, Amelia and Melissa are looking at all the toddler beds with Nico in Melissa’s arms and you’re pushing the cart with Caty in it. 

“That one mamma.” Nico says and points at a red race car bed. 

“You like that one?” Melissa asks him and he nods. She puts Nico down and he runs over to it and sits down on it. Melissa and Amelia walk over to it and you push the cart closer as the first bed may have just been found. “Alright if you like it then we’ll get it for you.” Melissa tells him and she finds the box for it and puts it in the cart. She looks back at the bed and sees Nico is still in it and she goes over to him with a smile. “Come on, hon.” She tells him and he shakes his head with a smile. “No? Alright you little trouble maker.” She says and starts tickling him and he starts giggling.

“Mamma!” He says through giggles and then Melissa picks him up and brings him over to where you all are with the cart.

“Alright, Caty’s turn to pick.” Melissa says and you take Caty out of the seat of the cart and Melissa puts Nico there in her place. 

“Go pick a bed, sweetie.” You tell Caty when she doesn’t move. She then stays where she is and hugs your leg and doesn’t let go. Melissa then goes into her purse and pulls out Teddy. 

“Here’s Teddy, hon.” Melissa says and Caty lets go of your leg and takes Teddy and holds the Teddy bear tightly. Teddy was once Amelia’s bear but Amelia gave him to her sister after it became Caty’s favourite. 

Caty looks around at all the beds and she doesn’t move. You then pick her up and she looks at one and doesn’t look away from it. You follow her line of sight and you see she’s looking at a blue one with rainbows and clouds and a unicorn on the headboard. You bring her over there and she reaches out her free hand to it and you put her down. She goes over to the bed and gets on it. She then touches the unicorn painting and then looks at you with a smile.

“I think she likes unicorns.” Melissa says and you nod.

“I think so too.” You tell her and then Melissa puts the box in the cart. 

“Alright let’s go find some nightstands and some lamps.” Melissa says and you nod before you pick up Caty and look at some nightstands. 

“Oh, this is nice. It’s white so it can go with the blue palette or anything else that we want.” You say and Melissa looks at it. “What do you think Caty?” You ask her and put her down near the nightstand. She then runs over to a purple nightstand and touches it. Melissa leans against the cart and puts her head in her hands.

“Oh my god, my kids have no sense of style.” She says and you laugh. Nico reaches out to her and touches her head and Melissa looks at him. 

“Mamma ok?” He asks and Melissa smiles at him and grabs his hand. 

“I am, my sweet boy.” She tells him. 

“Mamma, mommy, what about this one for Cat?” You hear Amelia say and she’s looking at a white one with 2 little unicorns on the front of the drawers. 

“Oh, well that would match.” You say as you pick Caty up and bring her over to where Amelia is. You put Caty down and she goes over and touches one of the little unicorns. 

“I think we have a winner.” Melissa says and puts the box in the cart. 

“Vroom vroom!” Nico says and points to a race car nightstand.

“Since when was he into cars?” You ask and Melissa shrugs.

“I mean we did put the cars movie on a few days ago, maybe that’s when.” She says and you hum. “And lightning McQueen is red.” She adds and you smile. 

“Well this is perfect, our kids are picking out what they want pretty quickly.” You say and Melissa goes to get the nightstand. 

Half an hour later Melissa is putting the bed sheets for Caty in the cart and then you both go to the nightlights.

“Mamma, mommy, look at the princess one.” Amelia exclaims happily and shows Melissa.

“You already have a nightlight Tesoro. We’re here to get one more for the twins.” Melissa tells her and Amelia pouts. “Christmas is in 6 weeks, maybe Santa will bring you one.” She adds and then looks at you with a knowing smile. 

“But I already sent my Christmas list to Santa, how will he know I also want a Princess night light?” Amelia asks.

“He knows everything, now come on.” Melissa tells her. After choosing a night light for Nico, as the current one the twins have is going to Caty, you move on to carpets. “This is a nice blue one.” Melissa says and you look at it. Caty reaches out, touches it and retracts her hand immediately.

“I guess that’s a no.” You say and Melissa hums before you both look at others. You end up putting Caty down and get her to touch all the carpets to pick out which one she likes. After a few minutes, she touches a blue one and touches it with her face after a couple seconds.

“I think we have a winner.” Melissa says and you look at the number on the carpet and grab one from the shelf. “Alright Nico, you’re turn to pick one.” Melissa tells him as she takes him out of the cart and puts him down. It doesn’t take him long to pick out a red and black one and you put it in the cart. 

“Alright we’ll have to get the lamps and toy chests next weekend.” You say and she nods. “Let’s go get these things and put them together at home.” 

You put all the kids in the car when Melissa manages to put everything in the trunk. When you get home, you set all the kids up with toys before you help Melissa bring everything into the house. Melissa quickly makes a quick and easy snack for everyone and you get everyone to eat while Melissa gets the cribs out of the room, in a few pieces. Melissa brings down all the pieces of the second crib and she lets out a breath. You see she put her hair in a ponytail, took off her leather jacket and just has a tank top on. 

“Alright, the cribs are out of the room, so we can put the beds together.” Melissa tells you and you nod.

“Amelia, do you mind watching your siblings?” You ask her and she nods.

“I will, mommy.” She says and you give her a kiss on the cheek before going upstairs with Melissa.

An hour later Melissa tightens the last screw of the bed as you hold it in place and then you let go and you both look at the bed. 

“It looks just like the one at the store, so I think it’s good.” You say as you go sit on the bed and smile. 

“Think Caty will like it? She seems super picky about some things.” Melissa asks and you get up.

“Hopefully, or else we’ll be sleeping with a toddler again.” You tell her and then you both go to Nico’s room.

Another hour later you come back upstairs and see Melissa is just finishing up the bed.

“Is everything alright with them?” She asks and you nod.

“They were just getting bored so I set them up with the little mermaid.” You tell her and she nods.

“Well the beds are finished. I think I should start dinner before we get started on the nightstands.” She tells you.

“We could order dinner. I mean we’re doing a lot of work this afternoon and evening.” You say and she wraps her arms around you. 

“You’re thoughtful but I’m good. Cooking helps get my mind off of things and it’s relaxing.” She says before she gives you a kiss and then goes downstairs. 

“Mamma, can I help make dinner?” You hear Amelia ask her as you pick up the boxes and wrapping from the bed packaging.

“Of course, Tesoro. Come on.” Melissa tells her and then they both go into the kitchen as you come downstairs to watch the twins.

Half an hour later Nico goes into the kitchen and hugs Melissa’s leg.

“Nico?” Amelia asks and Melissa looks at him.

“What are you doing in here, hon. Aren’t you watching a movie with mommy?” She asks him and he shakes his head.

“Mommy is not.” He says and Melissa furrows her eyebrows in confusion. 

“Amore?” Melissa asks and she doesn’t get a response. She turns off the stove, gets Amelia off the counter, picks Nick up and walks out of the kitchen. She gets into the living room and finds you asleep on the couch with Caty sleeping on your chest. “You’re right hon, mommy is asleep.” She tells Nico softly. She then puts Nico down and walks over and gently takes Caty off of you. 

“Should we wake mommy up?” Amelia asks and Melissa shakes her head.

“No, it was a stressful week for her. Let’s give mommy some quiet time.” Melissa says and then she brings Caty upstairs to her bed and turns on the baby monitor. “Alright, you two, let’s go into the kitchen.” She tells Amelia and Nico who follow her into the kitchen. She places both of them on the counter and then she turns the stove back on. 

“Mamma, hungwy.” Nico says and Melissa looks at him with a smile. 

“I know my ometto.” Melissa tells him and Amelia looks at her confused.

“What did you call him?” Amelia asks curiously.

“Ometto. It’s Italian for little man.” Melissa explains. “Dinner is almost ready.” She then adds as she stirs the sauce. She then takes the spoon out and carefully brings it over to Nico. “Here, open your mouth caro mio.” She says and he opens his mouth. She then gets him to taste the sauce. “Is it good?” She asks him and he nods with a smile. 

“Good, mamma.” He tells her and she smiles at him. 

“Here, Amelia, you can taste it too.” She says and Amelia tastes it.

“I love it, mamma.” She tells her. “What is it?”

“Bucatini all’amatriciana.” Melissa says. “Your mommy loves it and I haven’t made it in a little bit.” 

“Are you trying to apologise to mommy for something?” Amelia asks and Melissa looks at her in confusion.

“Why would you ask that?”

“There’s been a few times where I heard you both yelling and then you make something that she loves and you two love each other again.” Amelia says. 

“You’re very perceptive for a 3 year old.” She says and Amelia looks confused.

“What does perceptive mean?”

“It means smart and observant.” She explains. “But me and mommy never stop loving each other. We just have disagreements sometimes which is normal and healthy in relationships. And I’m not trying to apologise for anything, we just did a lot today and this week and it’ll make her happy to eat something that she loves.” Melissa explains to Amelia and then turns off the stove. “How about you two go wake mommy up.” She says and then she gets them off the counter and they both run out of the kitchen.

Melissa gets 2 plates out, 1 plastic plate for Amelia and 2 bowls for the twins. She then goes to fill all of them with food and you then come into the kitchen as Amelia and Nico dragged you in there. 

“I got a double wake up call.” You say and she smiles.

“I sent them to wake you up.” Melissa tells you and you hum. “By the way, Caty is asleep upstairs in her room, she fell asleep on you.” Melissa adds.

“Alright, I’ll go wake her up.” You say and she nods.

All 5 of you eat the meal together and you and Melissa watch as all your kids get sauce all over their faces and bibs.

“Well I guess that means they like it.” Melissa says and you chuckle. 

“I guess so.” 

“I don’t think the twins ever had it so I’m glad there’s something else I know that we all like.” Melissa tells you and you nod.

After dinner, you clear the table as Melissa is cleaning everyone’s face, and ignoring the complaints. 

“Mamma!” Amelia complains.

“No!” Nico says and Caty makes a noise of complaint. 

You then put on Cinderella as you and Melissa go back upstairs and put the nightstands together. An hour later you’re finished putting the second one together and then you move them beside the beds. Next Melissa puts the carpets in the middle of the bedrooms while you get the sheets out of the dryer as you washed them earlier. You make Caty’s bed while Melissa makes Nico’s. You then put Caty’s night light inside the drawer of her nightstand and Melissa does the same with Nico’s. 

“What do you think?” You ask as you’re both standing in Nico’s room.

“They better fucking like it.” Melissa says and then you both go downstairs as Cinderella was ending.

“Alright, Nico and Caty, we want to show you your rooms.” You say and all your kids look at you. You pick up Caty while Melissa picks up Nico and Melissa grabs Amelia’s hand.

You all go upstairs and show Nico his room first. You all walk in and Nico runs around and then jumps in his bed with a smile on his face.

“You like it my Ometta?” Melissa asks him and he nods. 

“Love it!” He exclaims and lays down in his bed, on top of the sheets. 

“Alright, next is Caty’s room.”  You say and then you all go to hers. You put Caty down and she looks around the room curiously and looks at you. “It’s your new room.” You say as you crouch down to her level. “What do you think?” You ask her and she walks around. She feels the blanket on her bed and looks at the nightstand and then the carpet on the ground. She sits down on the carpet and feels it before she lays down on it. 

“Well at least we know she likes the carpet.” Melissa says and you smile. 

Amelia then goes over to Caty and gets her to stand up. Amelia then brings her over to the bed and instructs her to sit on the bed. You both watch the interaction curiously and see that Amelia is becoming a great big sister. 

An hour later Melissa watches as Amelia puts on one of her new pj outfits. She finishes and she looks at her wrists and ankles and sees the pjs cover them again. Melissa finishes folding the pjs that are too small on Amelia now and puts them in a pile on the floor. 

“Mamma?” Amelia then says and sits down beside Melissa.

“Ya, Tesoro?” 

“One of the kids at daycare said that it was wrong that you and mommy have a big age difference. Is that true?” Amelia asks and Melissa furrows her eyebrows.

“It’s not wrong, it’s just different. And I think the kid is just repeating what their parents said.” Melissa says. “Do you think it’s wrong?” Melissa asks her and Amelia thinks about it. 

“No, but everyone else’s parents don’t have a big age difference.” Amelia says and Melissa picks her up and puts her on her lap. 

“An age difference in relationships isn’t very common but it’s also not unheard of. It’s still different and I’m not surprised that there’s still people who think it’s wrong. When I was your mommy’s age and even before then, a big age difference was frowned upon. But the most important thing to remember is that your mommy and I love each other very much and we love you and your siblings, and the age difference shouldn’t matter as long as there’s love.” Melissa explains to her. “Do you understand?” She adds.

“I think so. What should I do if I get told that again?” Amelia asks.

“Just tell one of the adults that takes care of you or you can just ignore the child.” Melissa tells her and Amelia nods. 

“Ok, mamma.” Amelia says and Melissa places a kiss on top of her head. “I love you, mamma.” Amelia says and Melissa wraps her arms around her.

“I love you too, Tesoro, very much.” Melissa says and then she tucks Amelia in her bed. Melissa closes the door and walks down the hall and sees Nico asleep in his bed and sees you tucking Caty in her bed. 

“Goodnight sweetheart.” You tell Caty and then place a kiss on her cheek and stand up. You see Melissa at the door frame and walk over and gently close the door. You look at Melissa before she grabs your hand and brings you to the bedroom and she closes the door. “What’s going on?” You ask.

“I need you to stop me from plotting against some parents.” She says and you tilt your head.

“Ok, I’m gonna need some context.” You say as you bring her to the edge of the bed and you both sit down.

“Amelia just told me that a kid at daycare told her that the age gap between us is wrong. And I highly doubt that the kid came up with that themselves so it’s obviously the parents that said that and they’re just repeating it.” Melissa explains and you wrap an arm around her but she gets up and paces. “I don’t want people saying crap like that to my daughter.” She adds.

“What did you tell Amelia?” You ask her.

“I told her that the age difference doesn’t matter because we love each other and all of our kids.” Melissa says.

“That’s a good answer.” You say and she huffs.

“I know it is but again, I don’t want people saying stuff like that to my daughter.” Melissa repeats and you get up and grab her arms and she lets out a breath.

“I know but you can’t stop it, and I can’t stop it either. The only thing we can do is explain to our kids what our point of view is to whatever they ask.” You tell her and she puts her head in her hands. “You can’t be surprised that some parents might think that as you thought that at first. Or do you not remember me calming you down about 2 months after we started dating about this?” You ask her and she moves her hands away and looks at you.

“I actually forgot about that.” She says and you wrap your arms around her. 

“Well what you told Amelia is the best that we can do about the situation and we shouldn’t go plotting against the parents or threaten them.” You tell her and she sighs.

“Even though some crap was said to my daughter and it was about our relationship?” She asks.

“Even then.” You tell her and she kisses you. 

“Alright.” She says and you kiss her again before you pull away and go to the bathroom. “Hey! Get back here, I was done kissing you.” She says and follows after you and you giggle.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms 

@idonothingalldays-blog 

@sexysapphicshopowner 

@dvrkhcld 

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[krishnasgirlmanu]

hiiiii, can you blog some divine rasik pads❤️

Firstly thankyou for asking this, I always wanted to answer this 💕

Okay so Rasik padas are like a staple to all the krishna Bhakta's devotional journey in my eyes.

when it comes to me, I've researched exhaustively on the internet, fulfilling tech's best utilisation to come across everything that is available related to bhakti even tho there's still a lot to explore

However let's start with the ones that have conquered my heart through the power of their divine devotional words :

💌 Meerabai - It's truly something when the feelings you've held inside, the ones you couldn't quite express for Giridhar, find words in the timeless poetry of Meerabai. It's as if her words, penned some 500 years ago, were written just for you and your love for giridhar. The moment I read all her pads I instantly became obsessed with everything-meerabai!

Here are some of her padas I love - giridhar janam maran ra saathi, bala main bairagan, jaadu karke, mhare ra giridhar gopal, pyaare darshan dijyo aaye, mhari preet nibhajo, saanvariyo parnaaye, shyam mane chaakar rakho ji, jo tum todo piya main nahi todu, he ri main to Prem diwaani, meera bhakti kare, naato naam ko, ram ratan dhan paayo, the to palak ughaado dinanath main haajir naajir kad ri khadi, laagat hai mohe pyaaro jaduvar, kabahu mile piya mora, baso more nainan main nandlal, hari mere jeevan praanaadhar, and I can go on n on n on

💌 Shree hit Harivansh mahaprabhu- incarnation of Krishna's divine flute, do I need to say more? One of his awesome creations include the shree HIT CHAURASI ji contains 84 such intimate and absolutely mind blowing padas, altho one can only understand the meaning behind it over time & by the grace of shyama ju, I recited it only when my guruji told me to so yea ig u need diksha guru's advice for that one.

💌Surdas ji- it's impossible for me to not giggle at Krishna's childhood leela's written by him whilst also weeping at his philosophical undertones that describes him surrendering his whole existence at his Lotus feets by each and every word.

Some of his padas I love - hari main nainheen tum naina, ab nachyo bohot gopal, maiya main nhi maakhan khaayo, prabhu ji more avgun chitt na dharo, nirdhan ke dhan ram, dhenu charaye aavat, prabhu ho sab patitan ko raaja, hai hari naam ko aadhaar, ab ke maadhav mohi udhaari, kab tum moso patit udhaaro, I can again go on n on n on

💌Swami shree Haridas ji- incarnation of lalita sakhi, do I (again) have to say more? All of his padas are so intricatively written here too you will need the grace to understand the bhava behind words, one of his greatest creation is Shree kelimal, beautiful pada Obv.

Other than them,I've got more such as chaturbhujdas ji's govardhan wasi saanwre, and like all the padas of pushtimarg are chefs kiss, swami harirai's nainan main hi rakhu piya tohe, narsi mehta's raag kedar centred padas, raskhaan's vivid imagery will leave you absolutely speechless, and yet let me be honest I really have a lot more to discover but rn ig this will do!

I'll get there too, one pada at a time 💁🏻‍♀️

Altho I hope this helps and also *good news* I'm gonna come up with describing how I look at each n every pada in the upcoming blogs so that the bond between us, the rasik saints and the lord of the universe grows stronger by every words every sec.

lost in leelas, found in his lotus feets.

~Manu

[sirfatcat-mccatterson]

happy @aftgexchange to @leloqier !

thanks to @lesbianandrewminyard and @millportisntreal for beta-ing and @wishbonetea for the title help!

READ ON AO3

A Familiar Panic

It was a long drive from Montana to Texas, but multiple people on Neil and Andrew’s current pro team were scared of flying–including Andrew, of course, although he would never admit to it–so they made the long trip to play the Round Rock Rattlers via bus over a couple of days. Without the distraction of school work to pass the time, Neil was at a loss for what to do during the hours that they spent on the bus. Napping was the only option he could think of, since Andrew had decided to play games on his phone instead of talking plays with Neil, and Neil’s fellow strikers were half a bus away chatting amongst themselves.

Trying to nap whilst in an aisle seat was harder than it looked. His neck ached with no adequate headrest to lean on, making getting comfortable a lot harder than it would usually be. Neil let out a frustrated puff of air, crossing and uncrossing his ankles for the seventh time, when a thin book smacked him on the face. He opened one eye to see the offending thing.

It was a sudoku book, clutched in Andrew's hand, with a pen slotted into the top. Andrew had his attention firmly on his phone, watching the little snake go round and round in circles, but Neil still felt warmth flood his system at the gesture. He took the book with a quiet thanks and slouched in his chair, hoping that the numbers would keep his mind busy on the long trip.

♧

The drive between Montana and Colorado was long, even with the bathroom and food breaks that their coaches factored in throughout the eleven hour drive. Neil was both restless and exhausted by the time they reached their hotel and was glad to have the space to stretch out.

Coach Wylder organised the team into pairs for their shared hotel rooms for the night and smiled at Neil as he handed him two cards. “Since you and Minyard are both ex-Foxes, management thought you might like to share a room. For old times sake.”

Neil barely had time to get out a ‘thank you’ before the coach was off to the next players. Neil turned to Andrew and raised an eyebrow. Andrew responded with an eye roll before snatching his key card and striding off towards the elevator. Having a shared room was a lucky break. They weren’t out to their team, or to anyone that wasn’t an ex-Fox, so being able to share a room was an unexpected win in Neil’s book. They took the elevator to the third floor with some of their other teammates and strode down the hall. Andrew silently unlocked the door, walked in ahead of Neil, and threw his bag down beside the bed.

The single bed.

Neil stopped in the doorway. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share a bed with Andrew, of course he did, they slept in the same bed almost every night at home, it was the fact the coaches shouldn’t have known this. The management shouldn’t have known this. So who tipped them off? Was Ichirou spying on them, sending them a message to let them know that he knows? Was it a threat?

Andrew blocked Neil’s vision. He grabbed Neil by the front of his jacket and hauled him into the room, slamming the door closed behind them. A strong hand rested on the back of Neil’s neck and pulled his face forward so he was staring into Andrew's eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking–stop it.” Andrew grumbled, looking deep into Neil’s eyes. “I’m sure it’s stupid anyway.”

Neil huffed a laugh. Andrew was always blunt and straight to the point when it came to Neil and his paranoia. “Why is there only one bed?” Neil didn’t expand more than that and Andrew knew him well enough to fill in the blanks. Andrew rolled his eyes at Neil and turned away, letting his hand slide off the back of Neil’s neck. Neil missed the contact almost instantly.

“Because I asked.” Andrew replied, unzipping his bag and pulling out his phone charger.

“You… asked?”

Andrew looked back at Neil and raised an eyebrow. “Do you not want to share a bed with me?”

“Of course I do!” Neil replied, finally walking deeper into the room. “I just thought… nevermind.” He shook his head, trying to shake free the paranoid thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Thought what?” Andrew sat on the bed and motioned Neil over to sit with him.

Neil sat next to his partner, placing his duffle by his feet. He turned towards Andrew but stared over the other man's shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. “I thought someone was trying to send a message.”

“Ichirou?” Andrew prompted, taking hold of Neil’s chin and forcing Neil’s eyes to meet his own.

Neil nodded, unable to voice the thought, but unwilling to lie to Andrew. His mother would be rolling in her sandy grave at his honesty.

“I asked for this.” Andrew said, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Neil’s. “I also asked them to be discreet so stop spiralling.”

Stop spiralling. Andrew said it like it was that simple. Neil took a deep breath and tried to shake the feeling of being watched off his shoulders. Another breath. And another. “I need a shower.” He finally said, hoping the task would wash these feelings away.

Andrew nodded and released Neil. His hand rested lightly on Neil’s chest before giving Neil a weak nudge towards the adjoining bathroom. Neil offered Andrew a small smile before getting up and grabbing a neatly folded towel off the end of the bed. As Neil walked towards the bathroom he did some quick calculations in his head. When he reached the door he turned back to Andrew. “Care to join me?”

Andrew squinted at Neil, likely trying to figure out if this was a genuine offer or a part of Neil’s breakdown. When he had finished his inspection, Neil watched Andrew get up off the bed and grab his own towel before following Neil into the shower. He knew, at least for tonight, things were going to be alright.

[drabbletron]

Time of Need: First Aid X Reader FLUFF

|| Just having fun with some friends (@hoiststowline and @dommiso) and a prompt we made while we were chatting on discord. Enjoy! ||

Prompt: A bot runs an important item up to your place of work.

It was pretty easy to miss if he hadn't seen you with it before. An inconspicuous black notebook, spiral bound and plenty used if he had to guess sat tucked under a data pad at his work station. You'd kept it with you at all times, so he's certain you had to have been in a rush to forget it like that. He picks it up and turns it over to see pen scribbles all over the back of it. Little doodles of plants and animals and a few sketches of his medic badge. He's be hard pressed to admit that he did the same thing. First Aid knew you had to be busy today too, what with all the new environmental laws in place. He'd better get this to you so you can do your work proper. He tells Ambulon and the others he's taking a break and sets off to your work site. By the time he's made it to rolling down the dirt road you've already called him three times. The first time to see if he'd seen it, the second to ask him if he's sure he wants to bring it, and the third to check and make sure he knew where he was going. Patience it's your strong suit it seems. No matter, he will be the one to put you at ease when he brings you that much needed notebook. Once he's pulled up outside the low building he's rethinking how out of place he actually looks. A red and white ambulance, no sirens or lights, just parked at a building with what looks to be not a lot of employees in the middle of nowhere. Good thing he's determined to help you. First Aid sucks up whatever reservations he has and activates his holomatter avatar. A moderate looking female human with bright red hair, big blue glasses, and a surgeons mask. He gives himself a once over in his mirror and heaves a sigh. Maybe the mask is too much? You're a scientist though and this is a lab. Humans wear those here right? Before he can question he's appearance you're already calling him a fourth time. "Hello, I'm outside." "I can see that," you laugh. Of course you would laugh, "People are wondering what an ambulance is doing out here. I'd get inside if I were you." The folks at your work must be bored or something because he's only been out here for a few minutes at most. "I'm on my way." First Aid hops down from his cab and makes his way to what he assumes is the front doors. You're already standing at just inside and opening the door to meet him. "Ooh! Who's this cutie coming up to my work?" First Aid tries to stop the smile from spreading over his face. He always did like them a little flirty. "I have your notebook," he reaches into his lab coat and fishes it out to give to you, not failing to notice you grazing his hand in yours as you take it. "Thanks Aid. You really didn't have to. I know you're busy and all." "It's no trouble, really. I'm glad I can help, and if I'm being honest," he steps forward to invade your personal bubble while pulling down his mask, "I'm glad I get to see you." Without a second thought you lean in and plant a sweet kiss over his scarlet lips. There's an odd tingle considering the avatar is made of light, but it's still real enough to give you and him both butterflies. "I'll see you at base then?" "Maybe after one more kiss," you smirk pulling him in again by the lab coat.

[bloodb3nders]

chapter two.

| touya todoroki (dabi) x fem!reader |

wc: 3.27k

tags: sassy reader x bsf!hawks; sassy reader who is tired all the freakin time.

a/n: yay chapter two!! and they meet! meet cute timeee also, all likes comments, and reblogs appreciated!

NOW PLAYING: cinnamon girl l. rey

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

you’re tired to say the least. crime’s ramped up in your ward lately, and it’s taking everything in you right now to not crash out on your mahogany desk in your office. 

your office is fairly big, and it’s covered in family photos and pictures of you and your friends from UA, now pro-heroes. It’s also filled with some newspaper clippings of your first big saves or mentions, sketches of some of your past outfits, and of course, on your desk, sits two framed photos. one of you and katsuki on the day of your UA graduation, and another of your whole family outside of your agency once you’d been signed to it. and next to those photos is a tiny little photo strip, like the one you get from a photo booth. It’s been ripped, so only two photos are visible, but the photos have clearly been well loved, the corners tattered. it’s of two kids, probably around 18 or 19, shoved together. the photo’s colors are faded, but its enough to make out the bright red feathers that swarm the booth. 

you and takami keigo— keigo to you,  smile, pressed close together, a peace sign coming from your hand. the two of you entered the hero scene relatively close together, and became fast friends after working at endeavor’s agency for a bit before he branched off to create his own. 

you glance up, dropping the pen in your hand as you do so. your eyes scan to the glass door and panes of your office, as you stare into the office across from yours. 

a flurry of blonde hair is writing furiously, golden hues of the sunset basking him in light. you grumble to yourself, grabbing an old sweatshirt from beneath your desk, and throwing it over top of your skimpy and constantly ventilated costume. you get up from your desk chair, and waltz out of your office, and you groan slightly, stretching as you walk out. 

you enter the office across from you, and even as you make no effort to be quiet, the man at the desk refuses to acknowledge your presence. 

“tsu-tsuuuuuu!” you say in a sing-song way, as you walk over to his desk, placing your two hands on it. with a huff, the mop of blonde hair looks up at you, blue eyes narrowing at you. 

“I almost had like five nip slips today because of you and this outfit. I’m gonna traumatize a kid these days,” you say with an amused smile, earning a laugh out of the fiber hero. 

“I told you, this new costume is good for your ratings!” he says slyly, and you roll your eyes. 

“more like the male gaze,” you retort, and hakamada tsunagu shrugs his shoulders. 

you had interned at the best jeanist agency in your second year at UA. he had just created his own agency then, and although you’d received a heft amount of offers after the UA Sports Festival, you’d wanted to help contribute to the success of a rising hero, and chose to intern with him. 

you two became pretty good friends after that. he helped completely transform re-evaluate your suit, and even though you two had fairly different quirks, he helped you harness it and get over the mental factor of controlling it. the gear support team had brought on suggested using other chemical components to create bigger and badder explosions. 

so, when you graduated UA and finished your third year internship with endeavor, and job offers started pouring in, you knew exactly where you wanted to go.  

and here you are, pro hero #11, standing in the middle of best jeanist’s office, a tired expression written on your faces. 

“go home, y/n,” he says softly, and you tilt your head slightly, confusion painting your face. “i still have some paperwork left I couldn’t—“ 

“go home, we both know you can finish it later,” he says with a soft smile. “besides, hawks told me if i don’t let you go in the next 10 minutes he’s gonna feather my house,” he adds, and you chuckle, a toothy grin breaking onto your face. 

“thanks, get some sleep. i’ll see you at the sports festival?” you say, and jeanist nods, and you take your leave. you make your way back to your office, grabbing a pair of track pants and sliding them on, and you loop your backpack over your shoulder, as you depart from your agency. however, instead of making your way down, you go up to the top floor. 

as the elevator dings, you step out, and you beeline to the stairs, making your way up two flights before you reach the roof. as you open the door, outstretched red wings greet you, as keigo stands there, facing the setting sun off in the distance. he perks up at the sound of the door opening, and turns around, eyes widening in familiarity from behind his yellow visor. he’s still donned in his hero garb, and you watch as an amused smile dances across his face at the sight of you in your comfy clothes (sue me, I live to be comfy). 

“look, sometimes a girl just doesn’t wanna be walking around with her ass out all day,” you scoff, and he laughs, causing you to roll your eyes? 

the pro hero pulls out a bag from behind his back, and you smile. “soba from 3rd street?” you ask, and he nods, motioning for you to come walk with him. the two of you make your way over to the edge of the building in a comfortable silence between friends. you carefully plant yourself on the edge, feet dangling off, as if you had a death wish. keigo does the same, and he begins to hand you your takeout box, with some chopsticks. 

you don’t hesitate to go to town on the noodles, not even bothering to throw any small talk at keigo, who is also, scarfing down his dinner. 

“long day?” he asks after he’s ate a majority of his food, and you nod, a content smile plastered on your face.

“yeah, just a lot of petty crime in my area, real pain in my ass right now,” you say, and keigo sighs, amused. “you?” you ask, and he shakes his head. 

“not really, just got bombarded by a bunch of fans wanting photos,” he says, and you chuckle, shaking your head. 

“maybe we need to bring back the secret girlfriend rumors or some, they got them off your back for a minute.”

“and hear the wailing of a bunch of teen girls outside my agency? hellllll no,” he replies, and the both of you laugh.  

“cmon, I love a good twitter scandal,” you say, and keigo shakes his head. 

“over my dead body, I need to maintain my image with the ladies.:

“what ladies?” you retort, and he goes silent, shooting you a pointed look. “that’s what I thought,” you say triumphantly, finishing up the last of your noodles. 

“i’d offer you to come over and watch some gossip girl with me, but I’m lowkey gonna need to SLEEP before this sports festival tomorrow,” you say, and keigo hums in agreement.

“jeanist making you go this year?” he asks, and you nod. 

“something’ about scoping out talent, and of course, he said to support katsuki. not like the brat deserves it, but mom and dad would skin me if I didn’t go,” you say, a soft smiling gracing your lips.  

“endeavor was yapping to me a few days ago about his youngest being in it too,” he adds, and you nod. 

“yeah, not surprised. shoto’s quirk is pretty cool,” you comment, and hawk’s eyes widen in surprise. 

“you know ‘em? i know you interned with endeavor, but I don’t really remember him ever bringing family around when we were there,” he says, and you set your takeout to the side. 

“yeah, we were neighbors with them for a minute before my mom got pregnant with ‘suki, used to be super close with his eldest daughter fuyumi, and with his son touya. but we moved farther away with them before ‘suki was born. I was still fairly close with them, was in the same class with touya before he passed,” you said, your tone turning a bit sour at the end. 

“passed?” Hawks asked, and you nodded. “some freak fire accident,” you said, eyes dulling as you stared off into the distance, as your brain tried to recall your eleven-year old memories of the eldest todoroki child. 

you shake off a shiver, “anyways, i’m still pretty tight with fuyumi, we get lunch or go to the mall once a month. she teaches at a school around here, sometimes her class takes a field trip to the agency,” you say, and hawks nods, satisfied with your answer. 

the two of you soon fall into some mindless chatter, putting your trash in the bag as you watch twilight take over the city. as darkness settles, the two of you begin to part ways, ready for a night of sleep. 

“see you at UA tomorrow? he asks, and you nod, stretching with a brief yawn. 

“try not to fly into a plane, bird brain,” you comment, and keigo rolls his eyes at you. 

“text me if you end up watching gossip girl, I need to know if Nate is still sleeping with that one milf,” he says, fluffing his wings out, and you chuckle. you salute him, and watch as he takes a bit of a hop, wings spreading out as he flies off into the sigh. 

you move to grab your backpack, making sure it’s secure around you as you rub your hands together, a brief chill surpassing you. you pull your phone out of your pocket, checking it quickly, as the screen lights up to a few messages from your family group chat — no doubt your parents wishing your younger brother luck before the sports festival. you shove the device back in your pocket, and simply walk off the building, diving into the night. sparks instantly shoot out of you, and you propel into the night sky, heading back towards your apartment. 

as you descend into the night, a brief flash of blue catches your eye to the west of you. your head darts to the source, and in the distance you see blue flames erupting in the distance. you quickly landed on the closest rooftop, and ripped off your sweatshirt, tossing it to the ground with your backpack and track pants. You pulled out your black mask from your burgundy belt, and quickly sent out a text to hawks. 

y/n: hey I think there’s some commotion going on in [location]. come if you can but I should be chillin!!! 

you dropped your phone next to your backpack, and made a mad dash as the blue flames danced in the distance. blasting off, you glided through the air, feeling heat starting to warm over your body as you got closer to the sight of the blue flames. you quickly touched down on the ground, as you ran through an alley, a shadowy figure coming into view as you exited. 

some screams alerted you, as some innocent civilians ran past you, into the alley you just stumbled out of. in the center of the town square stood a tall, lanky man dressed in a black trench coat of shorts, spikey black hair erupting from his head. his back was to you, and in the dim lights you could see the electric blue flames dancing at the palm of his hands. 

your bow staff materialized in your hand, and something resembling an arrowhead in the other. you stepped forward, twirling and throwing the arrow right at the back of the villain, a boom echoing throughout the square as Burgundy turned into a golden flash. the man was blown forward, eating the pavement below him with a grunt.

“shit, what the fuck!” a grumbling voice called, out and you held your breath, reading another burgandy arrowhead. 

“don’t tell me you thought terrorizing citizens and burning everything in sight wasn’t gonna attract attention?” you commented loudly, and the perpetrator picked himself off the ground, turning to face you, and your breath hitched in your throat. 

he wore a loose fitting white shirt and some dirtied black pants and combo boots. but, as you squinted in the darkness, you saw how his skin was burned, purpled, in contrast with seemingly untouched skin, bound together by what seemed to be gleaming silver staples. his face reflected his body, and you noticed several piercings that donned his face and ears. spiky black pooled over his head, and you narrowed your eyes. he was kinda hot but also not the right thing to be thinking must save the people fend off big bad villain

“and who are you? wonder woman here to save the day?” he laughed out, as blue flames circled around his fingertips. you narrowed your eyes at hime, bending your knees, prepared to face off against the fucker. 

“well at least I don’t look like a patchwork doll,” you spat out, throwing another explosive arrow his way, to which he dodged this time. 

a sudden burst of blue flames warped towards you, and you twirled your baton, and it morphed into a shield, fanning the flames ahead of you. you twisted it towards him, and It exploded in a flurry of burgundy and gold, intertwining with the blue flames, the rush of the explosion in the air pushing you back slightly.  

“eh, is that you trying, wonder woman?” the villain sneers at you, and your face twists into an angry expression. 

“oh i’ll show you wonder, scarecrow,” you cry out, sending a flurry of burgundy blasts his way, which he absorbs into his blue flames. you run up, sending burgandy bubbles towards him. as they touch the flames around him, they explode, clouding his vision and leaving hints of brown sugar in the air. 

“why the fuck does your smoke smell like cookies?” you hear an angry cry, and you laugh. 

“cause I don’t terrorize fucking civilians, you dick,” you say sharply, sneaking through the smoke, baton in hand as you jab at him, the slight explosion sending him back. a wave of blue flames come at you, and you twist your baton quickly, and it morphs into a shield again, as a furious wave begins to push you back.

the heat is excoriating, and you push the shield towards him, and another explosion rings out, but he’s picked up on this trick before. more flames dance towards you, and you dive to the side to avoid being burned to a crisp. 

your face hits the pavement, and your quick to generate a burgundy arrow, and open a pocket on your vest, dipping it into a white substance, and you throw it his way. his flame touch it, and the explosion results in a thick white smoke, covering you for a moment.

you wait for another rush of blue flames to come your way as you get a hold of your bearings, but it never comes. instead, a flurry of mewls and feet hurry to you, and you see the pussycat group coming your way. 

“ground zero! we heard from hawks you encountered some trouble, sorry we didn’t get here sooner, we were on the other side of the district,” mandalay spoke, and you cringed slightly at their cat like voices and getup. 

you sighed, “it’s no problem, he’s gone now, but hopefully he won’t show face around here again,” you say with a huff, exhaustion setting in, the adrenaline of your encounter fading away. 

“thanks ground zero! we owe you!” mandalay cries out, and you wave, slowly making your way away from the pussycat group. you walk back down the dark alley you came from, and your hair reaches up to your ponytail, as you undo the elastic keeping your brace together. your fingers work through your hair, carefully unbraiding it, until you meet the second elastic. you quickly pull it out of your hair, a groan of relief leaving your lips as your scalp aches. 

You reach the initial building you jumped off of, and you hop up, blasting up, short burgundy and brown sugar following you as you make your way up the building. you gracefully land on the roof, and walk over to your discarded items. with a sigh, you pick up your sweatshirt, throwing it over your head, and shove your track pants into your bag. you feel a buzz, and grab your cell phone from a pocket in your backpack. 

birdie: okay perf let me see if I can find out whose in the area, I’m already snuggled in bed. 9:07pm

birdie: I sent the kitties ur way they were the only ones around lol 9:19pm

birdie kitties say you handled it, bet u kicked ass queen 💅🏻 9:51 pm

y/n: yeee some rando was trynna burn up the square but he ran away when the kitties pu. literally can’t wait to get home and crash outtttt 9:52 pm

clicking your phone off, you put it in your pocket, and quickly jump off the roof, eager to get home, Burgundy lighting up the sky as you fly through the night.

your apartment complex comes into view, and you breath a sigh of relief as you gracefully descend in front of the double doors of your high rise. you press the buzzer, mutter your name, and the doors unlock, and you gratefully pull it open, enwrapped by the expensive smell of the lobby you’ve grown to love. you wave at lily, the night shift receptionist, and make your way over to the elevator. 

the elevator dings, and you sigh, as you make your way in, absentmindedly clicking number 17, as your body sinks against the wall of the elevator as it carries you up to your floor. the door opens with a ding, and you step out, turning right as you watch numbers pass you by. you stop at 1720, fidgeting with your backpack pocket, and dig out your key. you carefully unlock the door and step in, turning the lights on and dropping your backpack on the floor. 

you carelessly kick off your boots, and slip your feet into some all might slippers your brother gifted you as an apartment warming gift. you smile fondly at them, a small reminder that katsuki isn’t a total shit sometimes. 

you shuffle into the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water, quickly downing it, and refilling the glass. 

your apartment is pretty spacious. it’s a two bedroom, your spare room being more of a junk drawer, a desk, clothes, an extra bed for whenever katsuki wants to crash. It’s accompanied by a large kitchen and a spacious living room, all decorated in creams and golds, with hints of burgundy. pictures line the consul table your tv hangs above, painting a picture of your family and friends. Plants linger close to the window, 

you make your way over to a sliding glass door, and unlatch it, stepping out onto your decently sized balcony, where two chairs and a coffee table sit. you walk to the railing, leaning over it as you gaze off into the night. 

little do you know, is two pair of icey blue eyes are tracking your every movement, as you stare off into the night sky. 

because there’s no fucking way it can be you. but I guess there’s only one way to find out.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶