#I’m not going to be a burden for much longer anyways

[creature-jpeg]

Maybe you could make a Hinge or a Bumble or something and just casually talk to people? It doesn’t have to be a whole big thing, idk, maybe it would help and be nice even just to chat with some nice people

FUCK no. Why do you want me to do that?

[salsflore]

ummmm

[tubatwo]

txt reaction: random kisses

summary: in which you miss your boyfriend so much you can’t help but kiss him!

pairing: reader x ot5

genre: fluff; 1.7k total

a/n: trying something new! I probably won’t do these too often because I have been overthinking each prompt for months! let me know if you prefer short or long stories for these! beomgyu’s is already longer lmao im having a bamtori moment ><

‎ ‎

‎ ‎

yeonjun - when he’s busy

between group schedules and inkigayo appearances, it seemed like the universe didn’t want you and your boyfriend to have a moment together. of course you understood. he’s a busy idol after all, but it still didn’t make it hurt less. but one thing that yeonjun always told you is that the offer to visit him was always open, no matter how guilty you felt about it. and today just seemed like one of those days where you might actually take that offer.

after talking things through with the boys’ manager and getting a staff member to guide you, you arrive at the inkigayo filming area. it was strange to see how small the interview set was in real life, especially because everyone seemed to think it was an actual room!

you politely squeeze past a few people to get a better look at your boyfriend in action. you can’t help but smile at his cute mannerisms, charisma, and how everyone in the room seems to adore him. after a while, one of the staff members taps you on the shoulder and asks if you would like to move to his dressing room. you agree and wait patiently. 

the sound of the door opening interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see your boyfriend with a shocked look on his face. “baby? you came?!” he exclaims excitedly. you smile warmly and run up to give him a sweet kiss that just so happens to be long overdue. yeonjun giggles as you deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. “mmph– I hate to interrupt, but what made you decide to finally come?” he pulls away, slightly flustered at how eager you are (but in a good way). 

“i’m sorry!” you whine, burying your head in his chest. “I missed you so much, and I’m sorry if this is a bad time–” yeonjun cuts you off by lifting your chin and placing another kiss on your lips.

“never a bad time, baby.” he shakes his head. “I’ve missed you so much, and I know things have been hectic lately…” you smile sadly and nod in agreeance. “but! i’m going to make it up to you this weekend, ‘kay? they just told us we have some free time.”

your eyes light up, and you hug your boyfriend tightly.

“I love you, yeonjun, thank you.”

“anything for you, baby.” 

soobin - when he’s sleeping too cutely 

you watch as your boyfriend’s chest rises up and down, letting out small puffs of air. you smile softly at how peaceful he looks, knowing full well how busy promotions have been lately. sometimes your boyfriend looked the most beautiful when he was sleeping. the one time when his mind wasn’t full of worries, and his shoulders no longer held the burdens of others. 

you quietly giggle as you scan over his body laying in a position that you just can’t seem to wrap your brain around. why is his leg twisted that way? you try your absolute hardest to keep your laughs to yourself. he needs his rest, but he just looks adorable… aaand you kinda miss him an abnormal amount. maybe it would be best for him to move anyway. he wouldn’t mind, right?  whatever happens, please forgive me. this is your fault for being too damn cute.

unable to resist your cuteness aggression, you lean down closer to his face and place a tender kiss on his cheek. then another. and another. and finally he shuffles. “mmm… y/n?” he murmurs sleepily. you bring your hand to his cheek to rub it softly. “hi baby, i’m sorry for waking you..” you whisper.

soobin pulls you close, copying your previous actions by kissing your cheek too. “s’ okay, i’ve missed you too.” 

wait what?

“ you… miss me too?” you echo. your boyfriend nods his head, shutting his eyes again as if nothing happened. “how did you know I was thinking that?” he lets out a snort at this. “because I love you, and I also know you like the back of my hand.” before you could even respond or complain, soobin leans in to kiss you deeply, making you sigh and melt into his arms. as you pull away, you quietly chuckle and tap the side of his arm.

“let’s head to bed, my love.”

beomgyu - when he’s playing video games

you could hear the echoes of your boyfriend’s yells from the other room. the two of you had spent the afternoon together visiting a local record shop and decided to spend the rest of the day relaxing at home. after watching a movie, you inevitably went your separate ways to do your own things.

however, you eventually got bored. there were only so many tiktoks you could scroll through without feeling drained. so, feeling curiosity take over you, you sneak back into your shared room, peeking at the back of your boyfriend’s round head. you watch him silently, waiting for his team to capture the objective. you had watched him play enough times to know when it was coming to an end.

“ah shit! that was a good game.” he says into the mic as the winning sign takes over the screen, then he queues into another game. as you tip toe closer to him, the chatter of his friends start to louden as the sound leaks from his headphones. 

you wrap your arms around beomgyu’s neck, resting them on his chest as you place a kiss on his cheek.

“babe?” he flinches a little at your sudden movement. “hey, what’s up?” he cancels the queue, ignoring the commotion and confusion coming from his discord call. 

“nothing… I just missed you…” you smile against his neck, turning his head to kiss him properly. as you smack lips, beomgyu gets a little dizzy. he lets out a few groans and a few giggles, eventually pulling away to look up at you with his lips curling into his famous v-shape

“you want me to log off?” he asks shyly. 

a part of you wants to say yes, but you already spent so much time with him for the day. you knew that he’s been trying his best to rank up recently, and time was never really on his side. it was important that you allowed him to have fun with his hobbies as well. 

you shake your head, fingers playing with the hair that was soon growing to meet his shoulders. "no, it's okay. enjoy yourself! besides, I missed watching you play," you smile, eyes filled with affection. “that is… if it’s okay? can I?” 

beomgyu can’t help but smile. one of his many favorite things about you was that you didn’t mind him playing his favorite games, and you even liked to watch and cheer him on too. 

“c’mon my little lucky charm,” he chuckles, patting his lap enthusiastically while pulling you down by your waist. 

despite the sound of keyboard clicks and endless trash talking coming from both your boyfriend’s mouth and his headphones, you drift off to sleep, occasionally feeling his lips meet your forehead. 

taehyun - when he’s working out

it had been an hour or so since taehyun left a small kiss on your cheek, telling you that he was going to the home gym room. with schedules in the way, it was hard to him to do his proper workouts the way he wanted to. you knew this, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit clingy after the tiring day you had.

after tiptoeing over to the doorway, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend facing the other way while lifting a set of weights. you sneakily tiptoe over to wrap your arms around his waist while nuzzling your head into his neck. 

"hey," he says, a mix of amusement and affection in his voice as his body vibrates with laughter. "i’m kinda in the middle of something here, darling.”

you giggle, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on his sweaty cheek. "I know but…” you begin, smile slowly fading away as you remember the way you were late for work. the way your boss looked at you in disappointment as you gave your presentation. “I missed you a lot, i’m sorry.” 

taehyun’s expression softens, and he sets aside his exercise equipment for a moment to hold you in his arms. "I missed you too," he replies, returning your affection with a passionate kiss, reminding each other that even in the busiest of times, your love was always a priority. “how about I finish up really quickly, and then we can go out somewhere together?”

you smile and nod. 

“now, I could use a liittle more motivation to finish this set."

huening kai - when he’s practicing the piano

you peek in through the door that kai often used to practice, the sight and sound of your boyfriend’s fingers dancing across the piano making you smile. he notices your presence and stops. “oh? hi princess!”

you ignore his words and walk over to the stool where he was seated. you cup his face in your hands and kiss him softly, making him sigh happily.

“mmph- sit.” he manages to let out through kisses. 

“huh?” 

“sit on my lap.” he smiles at you.

you chuckle softly, a blush coloring your cheeks as you comply with his request. you gently sit on his lap, arms circling around his neck while you continue to shower him with affectionate kisses. a piano bench isn’t the most comfortable for two people on top of each other, but in this moment, with kai’s fingers lingering on your waist, it was the most comfortable place in the world. 

“I missed you, y’know…” you confess quietly, pulling back to rest your forehead against his. kai chuckles and tilts his head in confusion. “I haven’t gone anywhere, though?”

“I know, silly! but sometimes, even when you’re here, I miss you,” you sheepishly try to explain your feelings, starting to feel a bit embarrassed, “sorry if it doesn’t make sense…” 

kai’s expression softens, and he holds you a little tighter. “no no, I understand! I feel that way too sometimes,”  

“can we stay like this for a while?” you ask. 

“of course, princess.”

[sixosix]

HOLD ON TO THE MEMORIES, AND I WILL HOLD ONTO YOU | LYNEY

notes happy last chapter!! hope u enjoy<33 and tune in for another post in appreciation for the last chapter yeahhh

previous chapter | masterlist

It took two months in Sumeru, three in Liyue, and one month in Snezhnaya to take you down. Childe admitted that you held up longer than he expected—training unrelentingly in an unfamiliar environment would shake anyone’s confidence. But you’d been pushing through with excitement at the prospect of traveling to another region and training to become stronger. The adrenaline is quick to disappear when Rosalie has to go back home, and her absence makes the cold loneliness prominent.

When Childe strikes at you with a sword, your calves burn, and your thighs quiver—that split second costs you the match. Childe calls for you to get up. Fight back. But for some reason, all you can think of is how the ice has melted in your boots in a puddle and how the flowers sprinkled sporadically in the snow are the same ones back at home.

Childe senses it, the sudden drop of mood. He studies whatever expression you’re making and smiles.

“Alright. I think it’s about time.”

“I’m sorry.”

Childe pulls you up and throws your arm over his shoulder. “What’re you sorry for?”

You take one heavy step at a time, watching and hating as your feet sink into the soft snow. It’s too cold. “You’re doing so much for me, but I’m too weak to follow through.”

“Nonsense.” He clicks his tongue. “I think of this as one of my duties.”

“But it’s not one of your duties,” you argue weakly. “I’m a burden to your actual duties. My colleagues are already suspicious of this special treatment.”

“They aren’t really your colleagues,” Childe points out. “Just as you aren’t actually working under me. You’re my mentee. There’s a world of difference.”

You sigh, unconvinced. Childe is doing so much to prevent the other Harbingers and even the Tsaritsa herself from snooping in your business. A part of you thinks the Tsaritsa already knows, but it’s about time she does something about it, right?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Childe remarks. When you turn to him, he’s staring ahead. “Don’t worry, okay? You’ve got three Harbingers vouching for you.”

“Three?”

Childe grins. “That boyfriend of yours is about to be one, isn’t he?”

Excitement thrums in each bone of your body as the familiar view of the continent-sized fountain comes to view. You nearly fall over into the ocean from tipping forward.

“Fontaine’s not going anywhere,” Childe yells out from the other side of the Fatui-issued ship.

The wind whips through your hair. The recognizable scent of the sea breeze makes you laugh in delight. Maybe you missed your home more than you realized. 

“I wouldn’t let it, anyway,” you answer back.

Once the ship has reached the dock, you bound over to Childe, who looks over curiously.

“Thank you,” you say, and you really, really mean it. For the past few months, for this and possibly for more in the future.

Childe ruffles your hair. It would’ve made you glare at him on usual days, but you’re bursting with happiness so you let him until he says, “No problem, Y/N. We’re friends now.”

Childe nudges you forward. “Now, go hurry. I’m about one messenger bird away from losing my patience with Lyney.”

Despite that, you meet with Rosalie first.

The sun has barely risen, just peeking from rolling hills. The shop is still closed. But this is your home, so you push the key in, pull the door open, and catch sight of Rosalie fixing the displays on the shelf behind the counter.

“Maman, why are you up so early?”

Rosalie’s head whips around, then her limbs lock up in place. She’d been with you for the first two weeks of Sumeru, admiring their flora, then taking a lot of them home. You see them displayed on the shelves next to your first flower—the ones that are certainly for sale. Rosalie still hasn’t moved, frozen, gaping at you.

“Surprise,” you say, then she boots back to life and runs over to hug you.

“Oh, my darling,” Rosalie says reverently, as if speaking to the gods, thanking them. Her hands are stained with soil dirt and the smell of leaves, but you find that there is nothing else more fitting. You really are home. “Ma bébé! You’re back!”

You pluck a few petals off of her hair. “I am.”

Rosalie pulls back and grins up at you. “You’re home! You’re—” her face twists in realization, “Oh, you’re back. Oh, dear. You just missed Lyney. He came over earlier to help me settle everything before I opened up.”

“Wait, really?”

Rosalie nods, ushering you inside the counter, where the door leads to upstairs to the kitchen. “Yes, yes. Since I returned, Lyney has been coming over to visit and help me with the shop.”

Your heart skips a beat. “He does?”

“Mhm. At first, I assumed it was because he got used to visiting you, but he just does it every day now. ” Rosalie shakes her head fondly, smoothing down your hair. “That boy. I tell him that he should focus when he has shows to practice or prepare for, but he just buries his hands in the dirt as an answer.”

“I see you two have gotten closer while I was away.” The image of Lyney changing pots, getting his hands soiled, while he insists that Rosalie does the watering, makes you unbelievably fond.

“As stubborn as you,” Rosalie chides, smiling. “He knows how to handle them, though. Did you know, Lyney started to send out messenger birds when I told him I was missing you? That boy is more than head over heels, darling.”

“Maman,” you say, embarrassed. “I just came back. Aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

“I don’t need to. Lyney updates me anyway,” Rosalie says. “But I have missed you, so tell your maman about everything, okay?”

“I’ll tell you stories for as long as you want me to, maman.”

Rosalie’s eyes water, but she braves through it as she stares wordlessly at you. She wipes it off, then ruffles your hair. Do you have a sign on your head or something? 

“I’m proud to call you my daughter. I’ll always want you to.”

Freminet is the first out of the siblings to hear from you. It’s not on purpose. You’re on your way to surprise Lyney and Lynette when you hear a soft voice call out after you. Your head snaps side to side, frantically looking for the source, then grin wide when Freminet waves at you feverishly.

“Y/N!” he exclaims breathlessly.

“Freminet!” you yell back, falling towards a hug that he tightly reciprocates. 

“I didn’t know you were back?” He says incredulously, which might just be the most passionate emotion you’ve ever felt from him. He looks torn between disbelief and joy.

“Just this morning. I wanted to surprise all of you.” To gain a sense of satisfaction, you bury your hand in his hair first, knocking his beret aside when you ruffle and mess with his hair. “Your hair’s gotten longer than usual.”

“Yeah. You missed too much,” Freminet mumbles. But he doesn’t look depressed about it. He beams up at you, reminding you of a particularly pleased puppy.  “You have a lot to catch up on.”

“I know, I know.”

“But wait.” Freminet’s brows scrunch together. “How long are you allowed to stay here?”

“Two weeks, at most. But I can always come back whenever I want.”

Freminet laughs. “Are you going to max out your two weeks before you talk to Lyney?”

“Shut up.” You elbow his ribs, but Freminet just laughs harder. “I was on my way to your house before I saw you.”

Freminet hums thoughtfully, his gaze drifting off to somewhere far. “I don’t think Lyney’s home right now.”

“Really?” You follow his gaze, but see nothing. Only kids running around, throwing cards around and sounding explosions with their mouths. You smile. Were they imitating Lyney? It seems that even if you try to avoid him, you’ll find traces of his footsteps anywhere. “Huh. Where could he be then?”

“Ever since you left, Lyney goes to this one spot a lot,” Freminet says, turning back to you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Ma mère’s shop?”

“No, no. A different one. He says you two sparred there, and he goes there when he misses you. He goes every day.”

Rosalie, then now Freminet… You feel giddy, fondness bursting in your chest at the thought of Lyney missing you as much as you missed him. Not that you’d admit it to him straight up—because then he’d never let it go. But even then, the thought of that has you smiling to yourself like a madman.

Freminet notices it, too. “I’ll tell Lynette you said hi.”

True to his word, you find Lyney in the same spot he asked you to spar with him after years without it. You face his back, but you keep your steps light and measured, moving closer and closer until you see that he’s picking flowers. For his show, maybe?

Lyney looks vulnerable, hunched over a patch of flowers and gently unrooting them from the grass.

You spread your palm and let ice materialize above it in the shape of a heart. It’s smooth and clean after months and months of perfecting it. Then you throw it towards him. You have exceptional aim—you barely miss his ear on purpose. But Lyney straightens up in a snap and catches the heart with a gloved hand.

He looks at the heart in confusion, then rapidly whips around to you.

You grin and wave, unsure of what to say. What do you even greet him with? It’s nice to see you again? I missed you?

You haven’t had much time to think about it as Lyney sprints to you and tackles you down into a hug, blowing the air out of your chest as you both fall on the grass. You laugh as Lyney rubs his head on your neck like those affectionate cats back at Sumeru, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder.

Lyney pulls away, pupils blown wide.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hi,” you whisper in return. Maybe the right thing to say is, “Lyney.”

“You’re back. You—you’re back in Fontaine—you made me a heart!”

“I did,” you say shyly. “I’m home.”

Sumeru had been wonderful; with trees that stretched and went on for forever, dewy grass that tickled your calves, and the heat of the sand that you longed for when you reached Snezhnaya. Liyue had been beautiful; spread with the aroma of spices and the orange glow of their sunset, then the mountains that allowed you to soar from one to another. Snezhnaya had been enchanting; the view of their sky was unmatched, the flowers that were unique to the cold climate were beautiful, their snow sent you a thrill that you knew you couldn’t feel anywhere else, and you were able to refine your Vision in the place where it belonged.

But the warmth that Lyney emanated—that he gave you—was the kind you missed in every place you went to. This is where you belong.

thank you so much for reading. i'll save all the things i want to say in the next post, so please, tune in!

[cr4yolaas]

to be fragile — iwaizumi hajime

synopsis: to be gentle is foreign to iwaizumi hajime. you teach him through the seasons.

content: angst, bittersweet fluff. fast burn. implied childhood friends (rdr and iwa). pre-relationship, implied post-relationship at the end. timelines are probably incorrect (i haven’t read the manga in a long time). iwaizumi is probably ooc. gender neutral reader. miscommunication and pushing each other away. coworker akaashi. not proofread.

notes: this was a spur of the moment fic. the pacing is very very swift and somewhat cheesy and i kinda just blew through everything in one go, because i didn't really plan any of this out LOL. hope u enjoy :)

SPRING, 2014

Iwaizumi had always been rough around the edges.

From youth, his shoulders had been burdened with the weight of the world, a result of his overbearing desire to be reliable. It grew increasingly evident as he aged. Even more so when he faced you in the middle of the airport.

“Are you not going to say anything?”

He turned around, his luggage following suit. The crowd swayed around you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his gaze cast to the floor. “I just thought-”

“Hajime.”

Iwaizumi was not delicate. He was not fragile, nor gentle, nor vulnerable. But the call of his name from your lips rendered him a fool.

He watched as you approached him, your fists tight around the strap of your bag. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me anything.” Your footsteps came to a clean halt before him. “I’m sorry if I did something that made you uncomfortable to share this with me. But if all this — pushing me away and leaving without so much as a goodbye — is because you thought it would be better, I don’t want to hear it.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, pretending you didn’t read his intentions. His hand found its way to the hem of his shirt, a tell of his anxiety.

Another apology spilled from his tongue, this time quieter, softer. He braced himself for impact: for tears, for a harsh scolding, anything. Instead, he found himself in your embrace.

“I’m upset you didn’t say anything. But,” you paused, your grip around him tightening. “If you’re happy, I’m happy. Just text me, okay?”

Iwaizumi could only nod. He watched as you released yourself, allowing your fists to return your bag and your eyes to drift away. He waved goodbye, in silence, when you turned around and walked towards the exit. He sat with a heavy heart when your figure was no longer visible, and all he had left to do was wait at his gate.

The promise of a brighter future — one full of success, and passion, and growth — was impossible for Iwaizumi to turn away. Even if it meant casting aside his heart and leaving it in Japan to ache. Even if it meant shouldering the burden of being alone. He never wanted you to see it, in fear of you harboring distaste for him.

When he sat in the plane, Iwaizumi Hajime chewed at his cheek, once more, for he realized he had hurt you in exchange.

FALL, 2019

Against the pleas of his friends, Iwaizumi refused to celebrate his return to Japan. Instead, he found himself searching for you.

His feet were heavy against the asphalt, each second of contact solidifying the gravity of the moment. You sent him your address before he boarded the plane, but before that, there was minimal contact, save for awkward messages checking in on one another out of obligation. Regardless, the dull ache in his chest strung him to your front door.

You opened the door before he could knock.

"Hajime?" you whispered, the syllables of his name seeping from the cracks between your teeth all too easily.

He didn't know where to put his hands, didn't know how to look at you. His fingers found solace in the inseam of his hoodie pocket (which was barely hanging on). The speech he had written during his flight had slipped from his mind, leaving him silent.

You welcomed him in anyways. You had a tendency to do that — to accept him without question. Even if it felt wrong.

"Take a seat anywhere," you spoke, although your attention was elsewhere. The hum of the kettle was the only noise in the room, save for the shuffling of your slippers against the tile or the buzz of the air conditioning. A packet of green tea sat in each mug.

You sat parallel to him. As if to calm your nerves, your hands made their way around the porcelain, the heat of the tea spreading throughout your palms. Iwaizumi slouched in his seat, taking small sips from his mug to make himself look busy. To conceal his fear.

"How was it?"

His eyes darted up to yours, then to the side, then back down to his tea. "It was different. It's warmer there, and the people are louder. I met a lot of good people there, though. I think you would've liked it."

A hum reverberated in your throat. You didn't know how to convey it: your joy at his return, at the fact that you were the first person he chose to see, at him being within arm's reach.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have left like that. I felt like shit afterwards." I missed you.

You smiled warmly, the upturn of your lips filling his lungs with burning hot ichor. "It's alright. I got over it, anyways. I'm just happy you're back." I missed you, too. "What do you plan on doing now?"

"I'm gonna start working with the men's national team, as their trainer. I think I'll-"

"No, I meant, do you have a place to stay? Food to eat?"

He looked away, again, before shaking his head ashamedly. You laughed at his chagrin, your chin slotting itself into your palm. "Stay with me, then."

✧.*

A week passed. Iwaizumi wedged himself back into your life, with ease, after disappearing for five years. Your routine made room for him, now — grocery shopping, for two; breakfast, for two; laundry, for two. You did your best to ensure that he was comfortable, that the guilt from years ago would wash away. And yet, despite your efforts, he was cold. Distant, almost, even though he was around you all the time.

You feared the worst. That, while away, he realized how little he enjoyed your presence. That he wouldn't contact you again once he settled back in completely. That the silly feelings you had burrowed in the underwater reservoir of your heart would resurface, only to be shut down.

His voice in the kitchen pulled you out of your thoughts. You laid on the couch in silence, the calls of your name doing little to quell your worries. "I found an apartment close to my job," he muttered, the words blending in with the stream of water from the sink. "I'll be ready to move out within a few days. I'll let you know when."

"So soon?" you responded absentmindedly.

You watched him pivot towards you, his face blank but his eyes telling. "What do you mean?"

"I feel like I've seen you for such a small amount of time, and you're already leaving. Again." You sat up and met his gaze, calculative as ever. A sigh unleashed itself from his lips, the glass in his hands meeting the countertop.

"I don't want to rely on you too much," he whispered. "I can't. I just- I need to steady myself first." He nibbled at the flesh inside his cheek when you frowned. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to force you to take care of me. You don't have to do that."

"It's not a burden, really. I'm happy to be here for you, I'm happy to even see you after so long. I don't want you to feel like you have to rush yourself into everything."

Iwaizumi shook his head softly, his decision finalized long before the conversation had begun. He escaped to his room before you could protest. His heart sung of somber tunes and a loneliness he could not describe, a result of his never-ending guilt upon leaving you time and time again. He could not help the white hot tears staining his cheeks, nor the heavy breaths escaping his throat. Calloused hands pawed away at his eyes, and once again, Iwaizumi realized he had hardened himself far too much for your liking. He was always too far, too absent. He hated it. And yet, he felt it was necessary; he felt like he would lose himself if he allowed for a moment of rest.

"Hajime?" your voice called from outside his door. "I'll help you pack, okay? Just know I'm here. I'm always here."

He loathed how vulnerable you left him. He hated the fluttering in his stomach, the airiness in his head, the warmth of his skin from every word you spoke. It was a foreign taste on his tongue, one he wished to wash away every time it bubbled to the surface, but it haunted him endlessly. Distance would make him feel less weird, less weak, he figured.

Within a day, Iwaizumi Hajime had moved out of your apartment, this time leaving a small letter thanking you for your care and a bill that was much too unreasonable.

SUMMER, 2020

The heat beat down on your back in waves. Pinpricks of sweat cascaded down your back, evidence of your growing exhaustion.

In the heart of Tokyo, beneath a canopy of trees that accompanied each bustling building and towering skyscraper, a cafe nestled itself in the middle of a busy shopping district. You stood behind the bar five days a week, from nine to five, like clockwork. Akaashi Keiji — a face you barely knew from glances in high school — stood beside you every shift. He spoke minimally, save for rambles shared during late nights in which you were both tired and overwhelmed; all you knew of him was his career as an editor and his tendency to overthink. That was all you needed. Nothing more.

Iwaizumi's name hadn't left your lips since the day he left. The pieces of his being drifted away from you all too naturally. The lack of explanation left too much room for assumption — you believed he hated you or had something to hide from you, anything of that sort. But his existence lingered every now and then — mentions of his work on the news, an ad promoting the Men's National Volleyball Team, a post on social media with his account tagged in it. Efforts to abandon the taste of him on your tongue were all for naught, for he lived in every dusty corner of your life.

As if to haunt you once more, the television propped up on the wall featured his face, tanned and bright and sweaty, an interview about the team's upcoming match playing out on screen. You looked away. Akaashi's eyes followed yours.

"He talks about you sometimes," the boy muttered. His attention was drawn to the wet glass in his hands, his movements nearly robotic as he dried each curve and bump. "Bokuto tells me about it, on occasion. How your name pops up during practice for no reason whatsoever."

You tilted your head from its spot between your sweaty palms. "What does he say? About me?"

He placed the cup down on the counter, his wet cloth forgotten alongside it. Akaashi leaned against his back against the marble before explaining, "Lots of things, apparently. He says he feels bad for leaving you all the time, something along those lines. Bokuto says he never explains anything further than that, though."

You copied his position, the countertop cold against your back. Your jaw grew tense from how tightly you clenched it. The methodical fidgeting of your fingers against the hem of your shirt kept you calm, each thread of cotton consoling the ache bubbling in your stomach. "I hate that. I just- why can't he talk to me? Why does he feel the need to talk about me?"

Akaashi shook his head. "I don't know. Bokuto doesn't understand it either; he says its cuts into their practice time and it gets worse every other day." You didn't notice the drink he prepared for you in the midst of your conversation. The ice soothed your nerves, and you thanked him softly. "I don't think he hates you, for how much he talks about you. I think he just doesn't know where to put his feelings, or how to handle them."

His analysis forced you into silence. Quietly, you began to clean up the counter together, making room for the evening shift. The interview finally came to a close, and the screen flashed to an advertisement for women's hair care.

The bus ride home — which you routinely shared with Akaashi — was spent in thoughtful stillness. His words cycled through your mind, each statement making its rounds before settling in the depths of your chest. Your stop always came before his, and small waves of goodbye were shared before you began ascending the steps to your apartment.

Iwaizumi's contact burned brightly on your phone screen. You never did block him, despite your desperation to do so, in fear that he would contact you in any way. He never did.

You thumbed the call button, with hesitance. It rang three times in your ear before he picked up, the timber of his voice unfamiliar to you.

"What's up?" he answered, all too casually.

"Come over, please."

✧.*

You sat adjacent to him, cross-legged on the carpet in front of your couch. His knees were strewn up to his chests with heavy arms wrapped around them, akin to a child.

"Akaashi told me about you," you mumbled, the words tumbling out of your mouth in quiet jumbles. "He said you talk about me, a lot."

Iwaizumi looked at you briefly before turning his head away. "Yeah."

"Why do you keep leaving? Without saying anything?"

"I don't want you to see me at my worst," he began, his voice resolute yet wavering with anxiety. "I'm at my weakest when I'm around you. You don't need to see that."

Your lips parted, your shock plastered on your face. "I don't understand." He buried his head into his knees while you rambled on. "I just want you to be comfortable. That's all I've ever wanted — to see you truly at ease, at rest, for once. I don't mind." The words spilled too quickly, too rapidly.

An admission of your affection in the midst of your rant nearly slipped past him. His hands, once lost, found their way to your face, his marred skin rough against yours. Your speech died on your tongue, your breath cutting short and falling to a stop. "Hajime?" you whispered, and again, as always, your call of his name dissolved the composure ingrained deep within his bones.

His lips slotted themselves against yours, naturally, as if he were born to do so. The delicacy was alien to his being, for he had only known resilience for years upon years. As you had wished, he felt relaxed. At ease. Fragile, almost. He let go too soon, his hands returning to the ground and his eyes falling to the floor. An apology fell from his mouth.

He prepared himself for the worst. Instead, you smiled at him, toothily, and promised him that it would be okay. That he was allowed to be vulnerable. And finally, he smiled back, his lips curling up tenfold.

WINTER, 2022

Iwaizumi sat on your couch, his back heavy against the cushions. His arms stretched out before him, and under your gaze, each scar and bruise on his flesh was on display. A bottle of alcohol and a roll of gauze were propped up against your legs.

"How did this happen?" you questioned, a lilt of jest to your voice.

"Got into a fight with a guy," he mumbled, wincing only slightly when the alcohol dropped onto his wounds. "Not on the job, if that's what you're gonna ask. We were out and he said some stupid shit. Had to knock some sense into him."

"Uh huh," you muttered under your breath. You wrapped the bandage around his arm daintily, the pressure just enough for him to breath in. "And look where that got you."

He sighed at your remarks, opting to observe rather than retaliate. Your hands were soft, a contrast to his own, and each ghost of your fingertips against his skin left him dizzy. "All done," you exclaimed quietly. He watched as you stood up from your spot on the ground, all while scooping up each tool into your arms. You disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him alone in your living room, his arms covered with your gauze.

Iwaizumi Hajime was always rough around the edges. To be gentle was unfitting for him, and he had always lived in such a manner. And yet, around you, he found himself seeking fragility. He yearned for each tidbit of sensitivity and vulnerability you rung out of him, for he adored the smile that adorned your lips in return. He had learned delicacy from you. And that was more than enough.

[catmiemy]

Another Chance to Live Part 2 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana has to play against her former club with your former team. You do your best to support each other and slowly become closer.

Part 1

A/N: It took me a bit longer to re-read and edit this than I thought since it made me emotional because of another transfer that I'm still in denial about 😭

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next part. I'm always happy to hear what you think or what you'd like to see in this story.

Just like you had hoped, Ana and you continued to hang out regularly. In fact you spent most of your days off together and even met up fairly often in the evenings, relaxing either at her or your apartment. More often than not you still couldn’t believe your luck that the Swiss woman actually liked being around you too.

You made sure to steer away from any deep topics though, keeping in mind that Ana preferred when you offered distractions when she seemed unhappy. It wasn’t always easy for you because you wanted to know everything about her and you longed to comfort the blonde when she looked at you with sad eyes. However you understood that she had other people, better friends, that she could talk these things over with.

On the other hand Ana with her sweet and caring nature always asked how you were doing and offered to listen to your problems the moment she picked up that something was bothering you. The desire to tell her everything was almost unbearable at times. You wanted to unload all the things weighing on your heart , well maybe not everything, you would never reveal your feelings for her, but other things like the situation at your club or with your family.

However you didn’t. You successfully kept yourself from spilling your sorrows to Ana. For one you didn’t want to burden the Swiss woman with your problems, she had enough going on without you adding to it. And also you didn’t want her to know that she was the only person you would actually feel comfortable opening up to. It was a painful reminder that Ana was so much more important to you than you were to her.

A few days before Atlético was due to play Barcelona in Madrid the two of you were hanging out again. You had cooked some food together and then settled down in front of the TV for the night. You could tell that the Swiss woman was having a hard time focusing on the show you were watching, even though she had picked it.

Ana kept sighing quietly and glancing over at you. You in turn did your best to distract her, offering up your thoughts about what you were seeing on TV. It was getting increasingly difficult not to ask the blonde what was going on.

‘She prefers a distraction. She doesn’t want to talk about it, at least not with you. What she wants from you is a distraction, so try to find some interesting or funny things to say for crying out loud!’ You reminded yourself over and over again.

You were searching your brain to find something good to say when Ana broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?” She asked timidly.

The insecurity in Ana’s voice took you by surprise, that was really unlike her. But you didn’t dwell on it; instead you quickly assured the Swiss woman that she could always ask you anything.

“Okay, so…It’s not really a question but a favor. And it’s totally fine for you to say no, don’t feel bad at all if you say no! Especially because it puts you in a bit of an awkward situation. You know what, I’m just now realizing how stupid and selfish this is and I just changed my mind.”

You reached out to place your hand on Ana’s thigh, hoping to comfort and calm the clearly agitated woman this way.

“Hey, don’t worry. Just ask me. I have no doubt that the answer will be yes,” you encouraged her.

There wasn’t a single thing you could think of that you wouldn’t do for Ana. Well maybe there were some things, most of them illegal in one way or another, but you doubted that the Swiss woman was going to ask for any of them.

Ana took a deep breath before rushing out her request, “Would you come watch our game this week? The idea of seeing all of my former teammates again really hurts and it would help me so much if I knew you were there. I understand that it’s a lot to ask because my team is your former team, so like I said…”

„Yes, of course I’ll come, it’s the least I can do,” you interrupted the Swiss woman.

Sure you weren’t too keen on going back to Atlético’s stadium and see all of your former teammates play together without you, but the simple fact that Ana asked you to come and even said it would help her, was enough to forget all about that. Who cared if it would make you a little sad? Who cared if maybe some people would come up to you and bring up the still painful transfer? You definitely didn’t, not if you had a chance to make the blonde feel better.

For some reason Ana seemed taken aback by your answer. “Wait what? It’s the least you can do? What have I ever done for you? If anything I owe you! You keep hanging out with me; you keep showing me amazing places here.”

You scrunched up your nose at the blonde’s words. It didn’t sit right with you that she made it sound like hanging out with her was a chore for you, not when it was the only thing that brought you any joy lately.

“But I love spending time with you!” You cried out, for once completely forgetting to add the obligatory ‘as a friend’.

A soft smile appeared on the Swiss woman’s face when she heard your words, as well as the indignation in your voice.

“The same is true for me,” she was quick to assure you, before focusing once again on her first question. She wouldn’t let you wriggle out of this so easily. “But seriously why do you feel like you need to pay me back in anyway? I don’t remember ever doing anything for you.”

Slight panic began pumping through your veins, as you scrambled to come up with anything better to offer up than ‘You hang out with me when you’re so much better than me and there are surely so many better people in your life that you could hang out with.’ That just wouldn’t do. It was one thing to be pathetic, but another thing to shout it from the rooftops.

“I didn’t really mean it like that. Just that I’m always happy to do anything for you,” you mumbled finally. This time you caught yourself however and quickly continued, “I love being there for my friends.”

Ana didn’t need to know that there was no one else on the planet you would do this for.

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” the blonde cooed, her compliment instantly making you blush. “And I hope you know that I’m always happy to do anything you need as well.”

You nodded instinctively, not believing it for one second. Not that you doubted that Ana would be there for you in a for a friend reasonable manner, but your commitment to her went way beyond that. There was very little the blonde could ask for that you wouldn’t do for her.

Thankfully the conversation moved on to safer topics after thi and you could relax once again. At least as much as you were ever able to relax around the woman you were hopelessly in love with.

---

When you walked to your seat in Atlético’s stadium a few days later you cursed yourself for agreeing to this. With every step you took it felt like the sadness inside of you grew, taking up more and more space until it was almost impossible to breathe.

This was supposed to be your stadium. Your teammates, former teammates you reminded yourself, had often called you the Alexia Putellas or Leah Williamson of Atlético Madrid. Someone that practically bled their team’s color, born and raised there, and honestly set on dying there too.

Not that you had ever been on a level comparable to Alexia or Leah, which had become painfully obvious when Aleti just dropped you like you were a piece of trash. You hadn’t told anyone this yet, but after that conversation you had seriously considered giving up football once and for all. The thought of playing anywhere else had been ripping you apart. But in the end the idea of not playing the sport you loved at all anymore had been even harder to bear.

You thanked your lucky star that you at least made it to your seat without anyone approaching you. At this point you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep it together if anyone spoke to you. Maybe the people around you could read as much on your face because you could definitely hear some whispering and felt a lot of gazes resting on you, but miraculously people kept their distance.

Although it was possible you were wrong about seemingly everyone watching you. You didn’t look around to check if the stares you could feel were actually real, instead you made sure to keep your eyes carefully trained on the pitch, avoiding making eye contact with anyone, which might inadvertently  give them the courage to come up to you.

So you sat there, totally rigid, every fiber of your body tense, wishing for the seconds to pass by as quickly as possible, but somehow that only made them crawl slower than a snail. Maybe you should just leave, come up with an excuse why you had to go. Was this really worth it?

You got your answer the moment Ana entered the pitch, looking around the stadium searchingly. The instant she spotted you a big smile appeared on the blonde’s face, all of the tightness leaving her body momentarily. 

Yes, this was worth it. Ana was worth this and so much more.

You kept thinking of the Swiss woman’s happiness and relief at seeing you when people got bolder during half time, walking up to you to tell you that they missed you at Atlético, that it wasn’t the same without you and that they would never forgive the club for their treatment of you. Empty words since they were here supporting them right now.

Not that you wanted them to turn their backs on the team. You understood having conflicting feelings, your own probably the most complicated of them all. Being back in this stadium you played so many of your games, made you furious and sad, but it also filled you with a longing to go back and brought about a sense of worthlessness. Why hadn’t you been good enough to keep around?

Despite Ana’s best effort to act nonchalant you saw the signs of her struggles clearly, even from the relative distance of the stands. So throughout the entire game you kept watching the blonde like a hawk, as if you could help her feel better about this by some sort of telepathic connection that required a laser like focus on your end.

This way you observed how tense Ana was when her former teammates hugged her, almost reluctant to accept the loving touches because she knew she wasn’t going to see them again anytime soon after this night. 

You also saw how lost the Swiss woman looked on the pitch when the game started. As if she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that she was on the field with the Barça girls, but not as their teammate.

And you noticed that Ana avoided looking over to the traveling Barcelona fans until the game was finished, despite them chanting her name several times. Only once the final whistle was blown did she go over. It seemed impossible from your spot practically on the other side of the stadium, but you were sure you saw the Swiss woman holding back tears as she thanked them profusely.

You kept on watching while Ana talked with her former teammates. She smiled while chatting, but it was a smile filled with sadness. You briefly wondered if the Barça girls could see that as well. Did they even care? Even though you knew this wasn’t their fault at all, you felt an irrational anger towards them. How could they move on from Ana so quickly? They should have raised hell!

If you would have paid the Barça players any attention you would have seen the unhappiness and concern on their faces, clearly missing the Swiss woman a great deal. However your focus lay solely on the blonde.

The moment Ana disappeared into the tunnels, you also began making your way out of the stadium, keeping your head down and brushing off everyone that tried to initiate a conversation with you. They probably thought you were being rude, but you didn’t care. You were on a mission to get to Ana’s car, the agreed upon meeting point, as soon as possible.

If you would have stopped and thought about it for a second you would have realized that there was no way she would be there anytime soon. The Swiss woman still had to shower and stay around for the post match talk, so really there was no rush. Still, you hurried there as fast as you could.

And to be honest you also felt much more comfortable in the parking lot, an area off limits to the public, than in the stadium surrounded by so many curious fans. They had all been friendly and every single one that had spoken to you had stated that they were on your ‘side’, but nonetheless it was a constant reminder of your unwilling departure from your childhood club. And if it were up to you this subject would stay buried underneath heaps of pretending.

Therefore you worked hard to keep your mind away from your own dark thoughts while you waited for Ana, focusing instead on contemplating every possible emotional state the blonde could be in and how you could be a good distraction for her tonight. Because even though the two of you had to leave for your respective national teams tomorrow you had decided to spend the evening together, maybe even have a sleepover.

When the Swiss woman appeared, the first one from the team to get to the parking lot, she was a little out of breath and looked drained. Not physically, but emotionally. You debated giving her a hug, however Ana decided for you by walking directly towards the driver seat and slipping in without pausing for a second.

You assumed that she was just eager to leave, perhaps scared that one of her former teammates would catch up to her and would want to have a prolonged conversation. That was definitely something you were a little anxious about yourself with your own former teammates. Therefore the quick departure suited you just fine.

And when you caught a glimpse of some of your former teammates entering the car park as you drove off, you thanked Ana in your mind.

The truth was that the Swiss woman had actually done it for you. Throughout the night she didn’t have the same opportunity to continuously watch you as you had, but still she kept glancing over at you any chance she got. And Ana had noticed instantly that you didn’t feel comfortable, everything about your posture and your expression had screamed that you wanted to leave. So she had made sure to rush and get you out of there as quickly as she could.

During the car ride home you kept up a constant stream of light chatter, hoping that it posed a good enough distraction for your companion. Now that she was so close, you didn’t dare to outright stare at her like you had done during the game, but with some quick glances now and then you ensured that Ana looked mostly calm, not really happy though.

At your apartment you had everything waiting for a cozy movie night. You ushered Ana to sit down and relax, while you whirled around the apartment getting everything ready. It didn’t take long since you had prepared what you could before leaving for the game.

Once you sat down and flicked on the TV, turning to the Swiss woman with a slightly forced smile, you noticed that something wasn’t right. Ana was chewing her lips nervously, tapping the tips of her fingers together in quick succession.

“Is everything okay?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. “No wait, I’m sorry, forget that. Let’s just watch the movie, hopefully that will be a good distraction and if not, just tell me. Then we can try something else. Maybe play a game? Or just go to sleep?“

Ana sighed deeply, unhappiness etched on her usually so happy face. Anxiety began freezing your veins; you weren’t doing a good enough job at distracting her. You weren’t good enough.

“Look I know I said that stupid thing about preferring distractions once but I didn’t mean it. I just said it because…” Ana trailed off, looking very uncertain if she should continue.

“What?”

That was the only thing you could think of. The idea that all this time you hadn’t actually been giving the blonde what she craved most, felt like a stab through the middle of your heart. But even more so you wondered, if you hadn’t than why had she still been hanging out with you?

Apparently Ana decided that she did want to explain her reasoning some more. She took a deep breath before she continued talking.

“I only said it because I felt so bad complaining about my transfer to Atlético to you of all people. But I’ve regretted it almost every time we’ve hung out. Because I want to talk with you about it, I want to talk about everything with you. And most of all I want you to talk to me about your own unwanted transfer and how it makes you feel. But I felt weird pushing you to open up about it after I said I didn’t want to talk about mine.”

There was too much in Ana’s explanation that you didn’t know how to deal with, so you focused on the things that were easy for you, “You know you can always talk to me about anything. Please never feel bad about that, I’m always happy to listen! And don’t worry about me, I’m totally fine with my transfer. These things happen and it’s not like Real is a bad team or anything, so I can’t really complain.”

That was a flat out lie of course, you had been complaining a lot about your transfer and you definitely still had strong feelings about it, all of them bad. But Ana didn’t need to worry about that, not when she was struggling with her own club situation.

The Swiss woman scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your thigh. She looked at you seriously and you knew instantly that the Swiss woman didn’t believe a word you had just said.

“Don’t do that, please. It’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to feel bad after being dropped by your club, I know I do and my connection to Barcelona wasn’t even a deep as yours with Atléti.”

The softness of Ana’s voice combined with her words, words that you had been craving to hear for the longest time, brought tears to your eyes. You blinked furiously to get rid of them and quickly diverted your gaze, hopefully blocking the Swiss woman from seeing your watery eyes. Of course you had no such luck.

Ana closed the last few centimeters of distance between you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Still, you didn’t turn to meet her eyes. You were fine. The transfer didn’t bother you. At least not enough to cry about it to the Swiss woman.

“Maybe tonight we can just be sad together? I think we both need that,” Ana suggested, her voice quivering.

This made you look up. When you saw that the blonde’s own eyes were also filled with tears your resolve to be strong crumbled. If Ana needed this than you would give it to her. And if it just so happened to align with what you longed for as well that was just a lucky coincidence.

“Okay,” you mumbled and that was all Ana needed. She drew you against her, practically pulling you into her lap.

You held out a second longer but when you felt Ana’s body shaking from her sobs and heard her crying, you didn’t bother to hold yourself back any longer, letting your own tears fall.

And that’s how you stayed for a long time, the two of you falling apart in each other’s arms. You didn’t really talk about anything that night, simply relocating to your bedroom and falling asleep in each other‘s arms once all the tears had been shed.

That was a first for the two of you. At every sleepover before you had kept a careful distance, both of you sleeping on their designated side of the bed, but that night nothing was keeping you apart.

[viridescent-din]

Hope

Joel x reader. Smut, 18+ only Fingering, age gap.

~

There’s no hope for you.

You don’t take it personally. There’s no hope for anyone anymore. But it still stings, knowing it will probably never get better. Knowing that in spite of everything, even though you and everyone else that’s left has been given the worst hand fate could have dealt, you can’t ever have what you want. What’s right in front of you. 

Joel, leaving you for weeks on end to smuggle God knows what. Angry when you come, angry when you don’t. Short tempered and mean, hurting under all those layers of pain and experience and grime. When you met Joel, you promised yourself you would dig into him, make your way through those layers and burrow under them. Warm him from the inside out. You wanted to know him.

Now you do, and it hurts more than ever. It’s a nicer pain than feeling nothing at all, but it’s still heavy. The lingering glances Joel gives you make you feel truly alive, but they make you ache too. The wandering eyes, the brushes of his arm, the death grip he holds you in on the runs when you stumble across infected. You know Joel well enough to understand they mean something. To you and him. He doesn’t touch other people like that. He doesn’t care for them. Protect them. 

If he’s felt the way he does for you this long and hasn’t done anything about it, he’s never going to.

It’s possible that Joel doesn’t want to make the first move - doesn’t want to be the one that really changes the comfortable (almost, almost domestic) closeness you two have. There’s lots of reasons he wouldn’t: he’s older than you, for one. There’s also FEDRA and the Fireflies and anyone else who keeps an eye on Joel, looking for a weakness. The lack of confirmation between the two of you as to just what you are bleeds over to anyone who watches you interact. If something changes, if Joel really admits this is real, it won’t stay between the two of you no matter how much he might try. They’ll notice. Joel can’t afford to lose anyone else. 

It’s hopeless, you and Joel. So you try not to think about it, and you never, ever push him. 

-

Joel can’t take this much longer. Can’t take you. 

It’s killing him. Everything is: his job, his age, his sorrow. Everything is wearing Joel down, making him drag his feet and look for the nearest somewhat safe spot so he can collapse and finally rest. For just one fucking minute. 

He only feels rested when he’s with you. And Joel hates himself for that. Hates putting that amount of responsibility on you - to burden you with him. You’ve never asked for that. 

Of course, you’ve never asked because you’re scared that if you do, Joel will leave. He doesn’t blame you. He’s not entirely sure that he wouldn’t.

You’re so good. It blinds him sometimes, your goodness. Sometimes it’s like the sun, shining down on Joel as he overlooks the ruins of whatever given city he’s in. But sometimes it’s like the light on the soldier’s gun twenty years ago, forcing Joel to realize everything he holds dear is devastatingly fragile. 

If Joel let you give yourself to him the way he knows you want to, all he would do is take. He would envelope you, trap you in his chest. He’s cold and gruff and he would expect you to just deal with it. More than you already do. 

~

“Should be an easy run,” you finish telling Joel late one night. You try not to notice how nice he looks in red, even if the shirt he’s wearing is dusty and beat up. “I’ll be back before morning.”

“I’m coming with you.” Joel responds gruffly. You purse your lips.

“I know you had something planned with Tess,” you say. “It’s just the mall. I’m not even leaving the QZ.”

“It’s boarded up for a reason.”

“I trust the people that say it’s safe -”

“Tess can handle herself. Ain’t no thing for me to go with you.” You still.

You don’t mean to be upset with Joel, but stings anyway, the lack of faith he has in you. It’s times like this that make you feel young. Stupid and incapable. 

Needy.

“Tess can leave the QZ on her own but I can’t even make a quick trip to the mall?” You manage to keep the accusation out of your tone, but it’s still implied. Joel knows. 

“Hey,” he says, short. “That’s not what I’m sayin’.” You swallow.

“I know, Joel, I just -”

“Tess has experience. She’s been doing this shit practically since it all started.” You nod as you look away, nails digging into your palms as you clench them. Your heart jumps when you feel Joel take your hand, prying it open. “Quit doin’ that.” He murmurs. Joel’s hand is warm, spreading waves of heat throughout your body. You unclench your fist, and Joel rubs his thumb over the lines of barely broken skin. “It’s different with you,” he says, barely audible. “You know it is.”

For a second, you think this is it. The walls are coming down, and Joel is admitting. Confessing, even. You look at him, eyes wide and hopeful. 

He drops your hand and walks away. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow night. Be ready.” He says. The door slams shut behind him. 

~

“What are we even here for?” Joel only thinks to ask once you’ve led him into some sort of breaker room. You shine your flashlight at all the light switches and levers, looking for the right one. Joel frowns at himself. He should have pressed you for more information about this. It’s not like him to… not. “If I’m just here to take you shopping, we can leave now.”

“Yeah, Joel, you’re here to take me shopping. Prom is right around the corner.” You say. Smart ass, Joel thinks. He lets himself smile while you aren’t looking.

“Think you’re a little old for that.” Joel shines his own flashlight overheard, looking at all the decay. Water drips onto his face, and he wipes it off. 

“I’m not that much older, you know. I am twenty f-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Joel stops you. You grin at him before lifting a lever. Machinery whirrs around you both, and the lights slowly flicker on.

“Whatever you say, old man.” Joel rolls his eyes, but secretly, he’s relieved to have you teasing him again. Joel doesn’t like how he left your place last night, how real it felt. How for a moment, he was the cause of the hurt that flickered over your face. “This way.” You tell him, leading him down the maintenance hallway and into the actual mall. 

Even Joel can’t help but marvel at it, even in ruin. It’s massive, and all the stores are reminding him of brands he had forgotten existed. His chest clenches at the sight of some of them, the models that would have Sarah’s age.

The last time he went to a mall was with her. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe, eyes wandering. “Look how big it is, Joel! Everything is -”

“Are we gonna be here all night?” Joel demands, suddenly gruff and impatient. Your face falls. “Let’s get what you want and leave, alright?”

“Right,” you say, excitement gone. “It’s um - I just remember my mom going to the mall whenever one of us got sick. I know there’s… there are like, pharmacies or whatever. I thought it would be good to stock up on medicine.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, angry at himself for taking his shit out on you. It’s not your fault he insisted on coming. 

It’s a good plan, too. Joel is surprised he or Tess didn’t think of it. 

“That’s good. Smart.” He tells you, trying to ease the tension. “Do you remember how to find your way around a mall?” You shake your head. “It’s called a directory. It’s a map, usually on the first floor.” Joel spots an escalator a few feet in front of you. “Let’s go look at one, yeah? Better than wandering around the entire night.”

“Okay.” You agree. “Lead the way.”

~

The pharmacy is on the second floor, so you and Joel head back the way you came after looking at the directory. You start rambling about how there might not even be anything, how a mall probably doesn’t have as much as a CVS or a Walgreens. Joel stops you. 

“Even one bottle of antibiotics is better than none,” he tells you. “This was smart. Good job.” You give Joel a small smile. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

The pharmacy turns out to be well stocked - you and Joel jump over the counter and find practically everything full. Joel watches you look at the labels of everything a few times before you take to dumping things in your backpack. Joel is more careful, on the lookout for penicillin and any other helpful meds he can remember. He falters when he grabs one prescription and reads it: cryselle, low ogestrel. Birth control. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, Joel glances at you.

“You ready?” You ask. You’re standing on the counter, looking down. Joel shoves the pills in pocket. 

“Yeah,” he says, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Let’s -” Joel doesn’t even hear the growling until it’s too late, until a rotted hand grabs your ankle and pulls, the crack of your ribs on the counter bouncing off the walls and the look of surprise on your face permanently searing itself onto Joel’s brain. 

~

“Joel!” You scream, the infected chomping at you, practically ripping the skin of its neck to reach you. Bite you. You let out another scream, one pure terror and pain. Your torso is throbbing, a blinding pain that’s making it harder and harder to keep the infected off you. You thrash, kicking its legs in an attempt to get it off, but you only make its knees collapse so its weight falls on you even more. You let out a frustrated sob. 

This is it, you think to yourself. Even if I get out of this, Joel is never letting me do a run again. Your arms start to weaken at the thought, subconsciously giving in. 

The shot fires so close to you it makes your ears ring. The infected stops growling, slumping on top of you. You push it off, dazed. 

Joel is on you in an instant, hands running over every inch of bare skin you have. Hands, wrists. Neck. He hooks his fingers under your chin and forces you to look at him, distress written all over his face. You cough, wincing as it rattles your ribs. 

“Good,” you manage. “I’m clean.” Joel sags with relief, his forehead pressed against yours. He smells scared, stressed and acrid. You close your eyes and breathe it in. 

“C’mon,” Joel says, standing. “There could be more. There’s always more.”

~

He takes you to his apartment. His, not yours. You drop your bags at the door, kicking off your shoes. Joel leads you to his bedroom, and you sit on his sheets, wincing. When you pull up your shirt, your skin is raised and bruised. You tug it back down. 

“Does it feel like a clean break?” Joel asks. You shrug, not knowing what he expects you to say. He leaves, coming back with a bottle of pills and a glass of water. “Ibuprofen.” He explains. “Nothing fancy for a few broken bones.” You thank him. 

“Should we wrap it?” You ask. 

“Don’t know. Might make sleeping on ‘em the first night easier.” Joel watches you. “Can I see?”

You swallow as Joel stands over you. Slowly, you lift your shirt.

To Joel’s credit, he doesn’t freak out. It dawns on you that he might be thinking you’re making a big deal out of nothing. You don’t know what Joel’s life was like before you were in it, but you know it was worse than a few cracked bones. Embarrassment creeps up your face. 

“It’s nothing.” You dismiss it. Joel nods. 

“Nothing.” He agrees. He doesn’t sound convincing, though. 

~

It’s not even that bad. Joel knows that.

He watches people die every day. He’s seen the worst of death and then some. He’s seen people stumble into the QZ holding their innards in their hands. He’s watched people rip their tongues out as the virus infects them, trying to rid themselves of the spores they can feel invading their bodies.

You have a few cracked ribs. You’re strong. You can handle it. 

But the thing is, Joel can’t. He’s worn down, he’s exhausted and scared he just can’t keep himself from caring so much. 

He’s making this a bigger deal than it is. Joel thinks you feel the same - you’re waving him off, saying you’re fine. Saying it’s nothing. The wound is, sure. But the terror Joel felt when he saw you disappear behind the counter in less than a second? That isn’t nothing. It’s everything. You’re everything.

“You wanna stay here for the night?” Joel asks you. Splashes of black and blue spread over your torso, painting your skin. It makes Joel feel sick. He shouldn’t have let this happen. 

“Yeah,” you say. “If it’s okay.” Joel shrugs in response, hunching his shoulders to ward his paranoia away. You give him a small smile, tugging your shirt down. Joel turns around, walking over to the small dresser near the door and digging out one of his flannels. He knows you like them, and you know Joel likes seeing you in them just as much. He tosses it to you on the bed. You catch it smoothly, laying it next to you. Joel faces the wall, letting you change your shirt. 

And then he hears it. 

It’s a small noise that you make. It probably isn’t even one of pain, you’ve been through worse than this, it’s just a hiss of discomfort as you raise your arms above your head to take your shirt off. 

And Joel is rushing towards you, brow furrowed, hands outstretched and mind telling him no, no, no, just like it has for years. 

Joel’s been silently telling himself no to you since he met you. He’s older now. 

He can’t bring himself to listen anymore. 

Joel kneels in front of you, grunting as his knees protest. Your eyes are wide, and you’ve frozen. Your hands are gripping the hem of your shirt, holding it just above your navel. You watch as Joel’s eyes flick towards the bareness of your stomach, and even though he just saw it so he could look at your ribs, Joel can tell you know he’s looking in a different way now. He swallows, leaning forward.

“Let me help you, baby.” Joel says. You draw in a breath.

“Are you sure?” You whisper. You know what this means, what Joel’s thinly veiled statement implies. Joel returns your gaze. 

Joel reaches forward, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it carefully over your head. A small ‘good job’ tumbles off his lips when you raise your arms without making another sound of discomfort again, and Joel sees what his praise does to you. 

He leans back on his heels, looking at you sitting with your breasts exposed on his bed, bones cracked and in need of repair. He watches you wait for him to really promise something, to show you that this is finally happening. 

You’ve been so patient. Joel can’t make you wait any longer.

-

“Joel,” Joel’s name comes out a gasp as he lays you down, 

Joel props himself on the wall, sitting on the pillows. He pulls your back against his chest, arm over your collarbone while his other hand dangles between your legs. He massages your thighs and your eyes slide shut. You grip his forearm, nails biting into his skin. 

When Joel’s fingers have finally worked their way up and are tracing your slick entrance, you whimper. 

“I know, baby. I’ve got you.” Joel licks the shell of your ear as he murmurs, and you feel so safe. He’s capable and willing and wanting, you can feel his hardness against the small of your back. 

If it were anyone else, this would feel sudden. But it’s Joel. You’ve been waiting so long. You’d be lying if you said you understood why it was now that he finally decided to do something, but you don’t care. You don’t care why this brush with death was the one that made the walls come down. You just care that it did. 

Joel kisses your neck, sinking his teeth into the muscle of where your shoulder meets your neck, and you gasp, keening against him. 

Teeth marks on your shoulder. Bruises on your hips. Joel is trying to make up for the fact you’re battered from today’s supply run. You’re about to say something about it when his fingertip pushes into your cunt. Your mouth drops open, and you moan so loud you almost slap your hand over your mouth instinctively. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you hear Joel say as he slides his finger further in. Your thighs tremble, and Joel stills. “Hey,” Joel says your name, serious. “How long has it been?” He asks in a whisper. He runs his thumb up painfully slow over your clit, the same way you would to someone’s back or shoulder if you were trying to comfort them. It makes your head spin. “I gotta know how slow you need it.” He explains. You open your eyes, and Joel is staring at you. 

“I,” you feel your cheeks burn. “I haven’t ever…” excuses build on your tongue before you even finish your sentence. I haven’t had time. I was the only survivor I knew of for years. I was only a kid when this all started. I can’t trust anyone around here. I’m younger than you. You don’t say any of them. You can’t bring yourself to. 

“Oh, baby -”

“Please don’t stop,” you plead. Joel doesn’t move, his finger still inside you, gaze piercing. “Please, Joel. It’s not - it doesn’t have to be a big deal. I need this.” You can’t reach Joel’s lips from here, not with the way he’s holding you, so you drop your head and drag your lips across his forearms instead. “I need you.”

Joel closes his eyes, screwing them shut like he’s upset. But when he opens them, there’s no trace of anger. Just affection. 

“I’m not gonna stop,” he promises you. You nod, relieved. “I’m taking care of you, darlin.’”

When Joel pushes another thick finger inside you to prove his point, he chases away any doubt you had remaining. 

-

“I’m not going to use my cock on you tonight,” Joel tells you after what feels like hours of him working you open.Your disappointment is obvious. Insecurity begins to set in on you, but Joel won’t let it. “Not tonight,” he repeats. “Another time.” It takes a second for you to believe him, but eventually you murmur a quick ‘okay.’ “For now, I want you to finish with my fingers. Think you can do that for me, baby?” You nod, and Joel rewards you by curling his finger. “Good girl,” he says, and you clench around him. Joel smirks, amused, and rubs the thumb he has on your shoulder up and down soothingly. “Relax,” he tells you. “I’ve got you. Let me in.”

You try to wrap your head around the fact that this is happening, that after years of pining after Joel, he’s finally here. He’s sturdy and strong and present - you can feel all of him, his heartbeat against your back, his breath on your neck, his fingers so deep it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. His smell grounds you, filling your senses. You’re so full, so full of Joel. You have been for a long time now. 

You take a deep breath, letting yourself inhale Joel’s scent. Your exhale is shakier as Joel presses in deeper. Your gaze flickers down to where his fingers disappear, and you whimper at the sight. You’re never seen yourself like this, swollen and puffy. You’re transfixed by Joel’s fingers pumping in and out of you, shiny with your slick. He suddenly finds a spot you’ve never had touched before. You moan as he massages the spongy place, trying to find your breath. When Joel keeps at that and rubs at your clit again, your vision starts to blur. 

“Joel,” you gasp, the feeling foreign and overwhelming. “Joel. Joeljoeljoel -”

“Shh. You’re okay. I’m here,” Joel slows. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You exclaim. Your mind is spinning as the corners of your eyes begin to go white.

“Okay. Alright,” Joel soothes you. “I know, darlin’, I know. Feels so good it’s almost scary, isn’t it?” You screw your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you pant. Joel presses on, his confident voice pushing you close to the edge. “But you don’t need to be scared. You can let yourself have this,” Joel takes a breath in, his voice getting distant. “You deserve this, alright? Let me give this to you.” Joel almost sounds like he’s begging. “Please let me do this for you.”

All you can do is clench around him in response. 

~

Joel knows, Joel knows he shouldn’t be doing this. You’re better than him. You should have someone more handsome, someone younger, someone kinder.

Someone with less blood on their hands. 

But Joel is selfish. He’s a selfish man, he has been since he lost Sarah, and he wants this. Wants you. He wants to give you something, make you feel good for just one second in the shitty world you have to live in. He needs this. He needs to know you’re getting some type of pleasure. 

He hesitates when you say this is your first time.

It shouldn’t surprise him - you don’t have the resources people before the virus did. No internet, no sex ed, no parents or older siblings to ask. 

You don’t like new things. Joel knows you don’t like being inexperienced. You’re too good at what you do, it makes your tolerance for being out of depth very, very low. And this is so much more personal than anything else. He can feel your embarrassment when you confess to him, unable to even finish your sentence. 

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, and it isn’t because you have anything to be ashamed about, it’s because Joel is pretty sure you’ve barely even touched yourself and you still find it in you to trust him to do it. To beg. Joel is a sick man, because it goes straight to his dick, your trust and desperation. 

He wants to give this to you, and he doesn’t care if it also feels like taking. 

When you cum, sweating and writhing in his arms, you clench tighter around Joel’s fingers than he knew was possible. He can feel your fucking heartbeat, and his hand isn’t even on your chest. 

You’re far away when Joel eases his fingers out of you. He manages to lay you down on the bed, cautious of your ribs. He starts to stand to get a washcloth to clean you up, but you grip his hand. 

“Please don’t go,” you tell him, vulnerable. “Please, Joel.”

Joel hates himself. Hates that he’s ever acted in some type of way that would make you think he would leave you when you need someone.

When you need him. 

“I’m just grabbing something to clean us up,” he promises, rubbing your knee. “We made a mess, darlin’.” You sag, relieved. 

Joel caves once he’s in the bathroom and out of your sight. He presses his fingers to his tongue, savoring your taste. He sucks his fingers off like a starved man, and can’t wait until he gets it straight from the source. 

~

There is hope after all. For you and Joel. You can tell because of the dull throb in your core. Joel’s half hard cock against your hip. The medicine in your packs by the door, the softness of Joel’s lips over the skin of your ribs. 

There is hope - always was. Even though you had to wait for it. 

[licorice-tea]

Seaside Rendezvous

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader

Content: fluff, a little angst, unrequited feelings/ miscommunication, not rlly unrequited

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: Heyyyyyy….. it’s been a while, huh? life has been busy and difficult and amazing and everything in between, but i just wanted to post something (even if i feel like it’s not my best work😓) i might be more active after like 2 weeks, but it’s also finals season rn :o anyway, miss you guys and miss writing! looking forward to getting back into tumblr, and i hope you enjoy!

It’s a clear and overwhelmingly blue sort of day. You walk along the beach, beneath a cloudless sky, which creates calm waters to push gently foaming waves onto the shoreline. They soak your feet while you amble on, shoes in one hand and a single bag of groceries in the other. And Sanji’s signature blue pinstripe shirt makes him look even more picturesque than usual- a perfect man against a perfect backdrop.

He’s less than an arms distance to your right, with at least 4 bags in each hand, plus a tote under his arm. But you feel there is no point in offering to hold a few, since he had already refused when you initially left the market. That was half an hour ago, and you’ve been merely contemplating your feelings up till now. You’ve always felt something for Sanji, it’s just hard to say what exactly. He flirts so shamelessly and often that understanding your own emotions is nearly impossible. Are they a matter of genuine affection (beyond friendship), or simply flare-ups of lust inspired by how much he seems to want you?

Even if you could know how you truly feel for Sanji, your longtime crew mate and friend, it wouldn’t matter for that very reason. If anything, it might be worse to know how real your affections for him are than it is to continue pushing them to the back of your mind silent, contemplative moments.

But Sanji makes that impossible, too.

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes leave the sand to meet his mirth- crinkled eyes. “Nothing, why?”

He manages to shrug beneath the weight of the groceries. “You were being quiet, that’s all.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be, dearest.”

You avert your eyes before mumbling, “Are you sure you don’t want help with those bags?”

“I don’t need help, but thank you. And,” he smiles a little brighter, “I’d hate to ever burden you, love.”

“Sanji, don’t say things like that.”

“Oh? I thought you enjoyed my terms of endearment for you.”

You shake your head no. “Not if they aren’t serious.”

Sanji’s expression turns from content, to confused, then surprised, while he slowly comes to a stop. Once you’ve notice he’s no longer walking by your side, you turn back in time to see him finally settle on a gleeful smile.

“You’d like it… if you knew I was serious?”

“W-Well… I guess, yeah. Not that I-“

“Because I am serious about you. I always have been, really.”

Now you’re the one who’s confused. “What?”

He rushes to drop the groceries, followed by the tote bag on his shoulder, and approaches you. Sanji guides you to drop your own load, too, before taking your hands in his.

“Would you be mine?”

“Sanji, you’re being ridiculous now…”

“I’m being genuine. Why, you don’t want to?”

“Well I mean, I would if I could, but I can’t. We can’t.” You let go of his hands and pick up your shoes and singular grocery bag, then straighten up and look into his eyes. He smiles sadly, and you just smile back before walking on.

He knows you don’t mean to hurt his feelings, especially since you seem to barely believe that said feelings for you could be real or serious. But it does hurt a little. Sanji sighs as he picks up his bags. He follows you and watches your hair bounce with your steps.

For now, he’d have to be content with letting his imagination run away with thoughts of loving you.

[sixeyescurseuser]

(2)

Geto had sensed Gojo’s presence ever since the alpha entered the infirmary. Because his heat symptoms mainly consist of nausea and muscle cramps, Geto can do nothing more than lie on his side facing away from the door, dying on the inside while the best friend he’s trying to hide from barges into the room like he owns it.

The omega lets out a shaky sigh. 

“What, did you come here to gloat about how you were right this entire time? That’s pretty shitty, even for you, Satoru,” Geto mutters. He doesn’t receive a response. 

The thing is, Gojo isn’t thinking that at all. While he’s admittedly quite dumbfounded at the turn of events, Gojo just knows that Suguru is the only other person who can keep up with him. 

And Suguru is an omega, who is currently very much in heat, in PAIN.

Frozen in the doorway, Gojo doesn’t have time to rethink everything he’s ever been taught. Belatedly, he realizes what his instincts have been yelling at him this whole time.

Suguru’s in heat!

Help him!

Comfort him!

As the silence drags on, Geto becomes more resigned to the fact that Gojo is witnessing him like this. Pathetic. Weak. Vulnerable.

Whatever, Geto feels like vomiting and hiding away forever anyway. Fucking heats, man. 

But Gojo doesn’t leave. Frankly, the alpha still doesn’t say anything, and Geto is just about to tell him to leave when footsteps sound across the tiled floor. Geto tenses up as the alpha rounds the bed. 

Then, a mop of soft, white hair comes into Geto’s view. Gojo kneels down, face at level with Geto’s. Gojo’s expression looks…concerned. No smugness in sight.

Not something Geto was expecting at all.

“Satoru?”

Gojo uses one hand to brush aside Geto’s bangs that had fallen into his eyes.

Amidst the stomach cramps and pounding headache, Geto’s heart swells. 

“Tell me how I can help,” Gojo pleads. Geto’s glazed eyes widen in disbelief. He almost doesn’t register the question enough to answer. 

Luckily, Gojo repeats, “I’m serious. Suguru, please, let me help you. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

Without wasting another moment, Geto grabs at the hand that had brushed away his bangs.

“Take off your shirt,” he rasps out, then as a second thought, “And your pants.”

One minute later, Gojo stands like 🧍🏻in his pink heart-patterned briefs while Geto happily puts the newly-acquired shirt and pants in his nest. Unbeknownst to Geto, he lets out content rumbles during the process. 

Gojo finds it very cute. However, he’s also very aware of how rudely he intruded into Geto’s heat room; the alpha begins to fidget, unsure if he’s allowed to stay any longer. 

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll get going-“

“Shut up and get in my nest,” Geto growls. Gojo immediately moves to comply.

As soon as Gojo climbs in, Geto plops himself half on-top of the alpha, and then drags the sheets on top of them both.

“This is your penance for talking shit about omegas,” Geto states, pillowing himself on Gojo’s pecs. His heat-muddled brain tells him to bite the skin.

“I didn’t- OUCH, that hurt," Gojo cries out, but he still wraps his arms around the omega's waist. "Suguru, I never meant any of that about you. I would never say you’re a burden."

Geto continues nibbling on Gojo's chest.

“Doesn’t matter, I don’t want you taking back what you said only because I fit into that category,” Geto snarls. He noses his way to Gojo’s neck and doesn’t hesitate to lick over Gojo’s scent gland.

Which was kind of a mistake because now Gojo’s cotton-candy scent mixes deliciously with Geto’s chocolate and lavender scent.

(Oh, they’re both only in their underwear, Gojo thinks. How…nice.

(Gojo @ his dick: “Don’t u fucking dare”)

Geto feels himself slick a little. Luckily, beneath him, Gojo is too preoccupied with the way Geto’s tongue feels on his neck.

“F-fuck- oh my god,” Gojo whines, breathing heavily. Astonishingly, his alpha isn’t roaring at him to flip Geto over and switch places. In fact, it feels more like being pampered than being challenged.

Alas, Gojo is still very sensitive. No one has ever so much as touched his scent gland and Geto is just going to town on it, kissing and sucking on the delicate skin. He tries pushing the omega back but Geto growls at him in warning before going back to his task.

“Suguru, slow down,” Gojo coaxes, lightly pulling at Geto’s hair. Geto raises his head slightly, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. 

But before he can protest, a pair of lips gently presses to the spot between his cheek and eye.

What?

Gojo’s cheeks turn pink, crystal-blue eyes shifting to the side.

“Sorry, that was supposed to be to your forehead,” he admits.

Geto blinks once, then twice, pupils dilating by the second.

“Try again.”

Gojo nods. He leans up and lands a peck on Geto’s eyebrow. 

Geto laughs freely at that. Gojo feels like a goddamn saint for causing that.

The alpha begins littering Geto’s face with kisses: on his nose, his cheeks, his chin, finally his forehead, and then once at the corner of his lips.

Geto purrs deeply, the deep vibrations steady between them.

Gojo now cups both of Geto’s cheeks. The omega’s expression is relaxed, world’s different compared to when Gojo had first entered the room.

Looking at him like this, Gojo yearns to be somehow even closer to Geto. 

“I want to kiss you,” Gojo confesses, caressing his thumb against Geto’s cheekbone. “Will you let me?”

If possible, Geto’s purring even louder. He completely melts into Gojo’s large hands, then wavers a bit as he nods his assent.

But before Gojo can bring their lips together, a knock sounds on the doorframe, startling both of them.

“Geto, I brought the juice pouches you wanted,” Shoko interrupts, placing a carton on the table. She slams a sack down as well. “And stole more clothes from Gojo’s room, because you two will definitely need it.”

She side-eyes her friends, who are frozen in their compromising position. Geto doesn’t move more so because he’s really comfy. He opts for hiding his face in Gojo’s neck.

Gojo, on the other hand, can’t manage anything other than a viscous snarl in Shoko’s direction.

“Woah, calm down, lover boy. He’s all yours,” Shoko says, holding her hands up in surrender. 

“You went through my closet?” Gojo bites out.

“Yep, Geto asked me to,” Shoko answers. “Later.”

With a salute, she walks out and closes the door.

“You really told her to?” Gojo can’t help but ask, urging Geto to come out from his hiding spot. 

Geto nuzzles against Gojo’s scent gland.

“Just in case you reacted badly,” he said. “Cause you know, I lied to you and everything. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you left.”

Gojo flinches so hard, he jostles Geto into lifting his head. 

“You thought I would leave you? In this state?” Gojo asks, a bit hurt. Geto shrugs, eyelids lowering. 

“I don’t know. I can’t think straight when in heat, Satoru. It’s easy for my thoughts to spiral,” he says.

Gojo scoffs, but he understands. Ruts can get like that too.

“Well, I’m telling you right now, I’m staying here for as long as you’ll have me,” Gojo declares, cupping Geto’s cheeks again. “You’ll never have to deal with another heat alone again, not if I can help it.”

Gojo pauses, uncertainty flashing across his features.

"If- if that's what you want."

Geto stares down at Gojo with a twinkle in his eyes.

Gojo thinks he’s never looked so beautiful.

Without repyling, Geto surges forward and kisses Gojo’s soft lips, pressing down for a long moment before parting.

But Gojo doesn’t let him go far. The alpha guides Geto down into a second kiss, then a third, and a fourth-

Geto hums in approval, feeling like the luckiest omega in the world with such a strong and caring alpha underneath him, providing kiss after kiss. 

Gojo’s eyes have slipped shut, allowing Geto to control the kiss. A swipe of the omega’s tongue and Gojo is opening his mouth, moaning when Geto boldly licks in.

Their combined pheromones swirl in the air, clogging the room with their scents. They keep kissing, bruising their lips and working their jaws until they’re sore. 

A new energy spreads from their lips all the way to the tips of their toes, and they begin to paw at each other under the covers. 

In the next hour, Geto’s heat officially escalates for the first time.

[gunilslaugh]

How would the hero’s react to having a hard time telling people no and constantly biting themselves out because of how much people ask them to do

Thank you so much for requesting! Sorry if these are a bit repetitive :\

OT6 /( o _o )/ Summary: Xdinary Heroes reaction to you having a hard time saying no to others. (idol/non-idol au) WC:~2.3k Warning: none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Gunil adored how caring you were and how you were always willing to help others out. However once he noticed that you still agreed to help others even though you were already drowning in other tasks to do, he grew very concerned. 

One night as you were endlessly typing away on your computer at the kitchen table, Gunil came and took a seat beside you. 

“Y/n,” he softly called your attention. 

“Yes?” You asked, not removing your eyes from the screen. Gunil’s lips draw into a line. He carefully takes his hands and places them over both of your busy hands. “What are you doing?” you questioned as he took your hands into his, stroking the back of them with his thumbs.

“It’s amazing that you like to help out others so much, but it is ok to say no to them too,” he tells you. His words cause a stir of emotions in you. 

“I- I know that, but I really need to finish this for my coworker they need it by-”

“Y/n, you’ve hardly slept in the past three days. I’m worried about you. You don’t need to help others at the cost of yourself,” he says very seriously. His eyes are filled with nurture. 

“But if I don’t help others they’ll be burdened and-”

“That doesn’t mean you need to take on their burden. It’s incredible to help people, but when helping them turns into a negative effect on you, you can say no,” he reassures you.

“But what if they get upset with me for saying no?” you ask. Gunil frowns and readjust his grip on your hands to be a little firmer. 

“Helping someone is a kind gesture, but you don’t owe it to anyone. If someone gets upset with you for saying no, maybe they’re not the kind of person you should be helping in the first place.” You take a deep breath as you take in Gunil’s words. The longer you think about them the more they resonate with you. 

“Thank you,” you say, giving his hands a squeeze. “I’ll try to not take on more than I can chew, but it’ll still be hard to learn to say no.” 

“That’s ok. I know it’s not something you’re used to doing. I just like seeing you spread yourself so thin.” You nod at him appreciatively. 

“Go ahead and finish up what you're working on, but if the clock hits twelve and you’re still working I will come and physically remove you from the computer.” He lightly shakes your hands. You let out a light chuckle and nod. Gunil leaves you with a tender kiss on your forehead. 

Jungsu

A part of the reason why Jungsu fell for you was because of how you were always willing to lend a hand when someone needed help. Yet right now as he stares at your to-do list that you left open on your phone he thinks that maybe your helping hand may be more detrimental than good. To you at least. 

“Y/n, love, isn’t this maybe a bit too much for you to handle?” he asked you, pointing to the to-do list that illuminated your phone screen. 

“Oh that, things will be tight, but I can get it all done,” you tell him with a small smile. 

“But do you really have to pick up dog food for your friend on top of all these other things?” he asked. 

“Well y/f/n is really busy with work this week, so they asked if I could pick it. It’s not really a big deal anyway. It’s a simple task,” you replied. 

“You’re already really busy this week too though,” Jungsu pointed. It felt like he was trying to hint at something to you.

“I know, but they asked me for help so…” you shrugged. 

“Y/n,” Jungsu says, coming to your side. “You don’t have to do things just because someone asked you to.” 

“But it’s mean to say no and they wouldn’t be asking if they didn’t need the help,” you state. Jugnsu gently holds you by your shoulders. 

“It’s not mean to say no, not when you already have so much on your plate,” he tells you. 

“But-”

“No buts.” You can tell that this conversation is serious because Jungsu isn’t one to cut you off. “I’m saying this because I care about you. If you’re already busy taking care of your own things you don’t need to take on doing other people's things as well. You can tell them no. It won’t make you mean. You shouldn’t help others at the cost of yourself.” He looks you straight in your eyes. You can see the genuine care and concern held in them. 

“I’m not really good at telling others no though. Plus the people I help are always appreciative,” you said. 

“That’s why you should practice saying no and it’s great that people are appreciative for your help, they should be, but they should also understand when you say no to helping them. It’s not like you’re saying it to be mean, it’s because you are already busy yourself.”  You know that Jungsu is right, but saying no to others is still something you’re not used to doing. 

“How do I go about telling them no though?” Your question pangs Jungsu in his heart. You were truly your kind for your own good. 

“Tell them that you’re sorry, but you already have a lot on your plate,” he advises. You nod.

“Ok, I’ll try,” you told him with a smile. 

Gaon/Jiseok

“Jiseok I’m sorry, but can we cancel our date? My coworker just called asking me to cover their shift for tomorrow,” you tell. 

“But you’ve been wanting to go to this cafe for months. You were so excited when you heard it was opening,” Jiseok said. 

“I know, but we can go some other time.” Jiseok can tell that you're slightly disappointed, but masking it. 

“No, let’s go tomorrow,” Jiseok insisted. 

“But I already told my coworker I’d cover for them,” you say. 

“Call them back and say that you can’t. You’ve been looking forward to this for months. Why put it off because of your coworker?” 

“Jiseok, it's just a cafe, it can wait till next weekend,” you reason. 

“No, look y/n I love how you want to help others, but you don’t have to prioritize helping them over yourself.

“Jiseok this really isn’t that serious,” you say, not quite understanding why he was getting slightly upset over this. 

“Maybe not this time, but you’ve done this too much in the past. You help others at the sake of yourself. It’s hard for me to watch the toll it has on you. I need you to know that it’s ok to say no to helping others,” he states. 

“I know that it’s ok, but it’s hard for me to,” you tell him. 

“I get that it can be hard, but that doesn’t mean you should just bend over backwards for others just to help them,” he voices. You take a few moments to think his words over. 

“Ok, I’ll call my coworker back and tell them that I can’t cover for them,” you said with a determined tone. 

“Good job, I’m proud of you.” He pulls you into a hug.

O.de/Seungmin

Your head falls into your hands and a big sigh leaves your mouth. Seungmin looks at you  from where he sits on the other side of the couch. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked you. He carefully rubs your ankles that are situated in his lap.

“My manager just asked me to take on another project for work,” you say. Seungmin sits up straighter on the couch. 

“But aren’t you already juggling two others?” he checked. You nodded. 

“Yeah, but Marie just took her maternity leave, so the manager asked me to take over and finish the project she was currently working on,” you explain. 

“Can’t you tell your manager that you already have your plate full with the two projects that you’re doing?” he questioned.

“I guess I could, but everyone else at work also has their plates full with projects, so if I say no someone else will be burdened with it,” you answer. 

Seungmin treasures your kind heart and how you always want to alleviate others of their burdens, but it’s hard to watch when he sees their burden being transferred onto you. Seeing how helping others ends up hurting you in the end.

“Y/n, I think you should email your manager back and tell them that you can’t do it,” he suggested. 

“Seungmin, I just told you that if I don't, someone else will be stuck with it,” you say. 

“You’re already stressed dealing with your two other projects. I don’t want to see you become even more stressed.” He looks at you with nothing but care in his eyes. 

“Seungmin, I can't pass the stress onto someone else,” you argue. 

“You don’t know that it will stress someone else out. Plus maybe you can find a way to split this project amongst you guys,” Seungmin pointed out. 

“I don’t know Seungmin. I think it would be easier for me to just take it on,” you state. 

“Not easier on yourself,” he quickly replied. You sigh, knowing that he was right, but it was really hard for you to say no to others. “I’ll help you write the email. How about that?” he offered. You take a while before responding with a nod. After writing the email and sending it to your manager, Seungmin cuddles you in his tender embrace, whispering how proud he is of you and reassuring you that it will be ok. 

Junhan/Hyeongjun

It actually wasn’t until seeing the negative effects of not saying no to others had on you that Hyeongjun realized how important of a skill saying no to others was. Like you he would often agree to helping others even if it was at the extent of his own self. He admired the selflessness that you had in helping others. Though he also realized thanks to you the other side, the bad side of being so selfless. 

You had just walked into your room and face planted on the bed beside where Hyeongjun sat strumming on his guitar. 

“I’m so tired,” you said exhaustedly. Hyeongjun set his guitar side and brought his hand to stroke your hair. You hummed contently at his caring action. “As nice as this is, I have work to do,” you say sitting up. Heyongjun frowns and catches your wrist. He ever so gently moves his hand down to hold your hand.

“Wait, you just said you were tired,” he says. 

“I am, but I promised, Lia that I would help her with putting together our invoices,” you inform him. 

“I’m sure she would understand if you tell her that need some time to rest up,” he states. 

“She would, but I already told her that I would. I can’t just dip on her,” you said. 

“Y/n, it’s ok to tell people that you can’t help them,” he reminds you. 

“I know, but I like helping people,” you reply. 

“And that’s great, but you’re already exhausted. You shouldn’t help people at the cost of your health. It worries me.” Your heart pings by Hyeongjun telling you that he’s worried about you. 

“I’m ok Hyeongjun,” you tried to reassure him. 

“No, you’re not. We both know that.” He looks at you sternly. 

“But it’s hard for me to say no when others ask for help,” you admit. 

“I understand that. I used to be like that too, but as nice as it is to help people, it’s just as important to know when to tell people no,” he declares. You hadn’t really thought about that before. You were always set on helping people even if it hurt you in the process. “Please tell Lia that you can’t help her this time. You need to rest. I can tell her for you if you’re too scared,” he offered. 

“Thank you,” you tell him. 

“Anytime, now come on, lay back down.” He leads your head to his lap where he continues his previous action of stroking your hair. 

Jooyeon

“No! Y/n I am putting my foot down, you can not fill in for your friend this weekend,” Jooyeon firmly states holding your phone over your head. 

“Jooyeon, please, they really need me to cover for them. They wouldn’t ask if they didn’t.”

“Y/n if you fill in for them you won’t have any days off this week,” he reminds you. 

“I’ll be fine” you insisted. 

Now don’t get Jooyeon wrong, he loved how much you cared for others, but in instances like this where helping others affects your well being he has to step in. 

“I know that it’s hard for you to say no to others, so allow me to say no for you ok?” he told you. 

“But Jooyeon!” You kept trying to reach for your phone. 

“Do not ‘but’ me. You have to look out for yourself! Helping someone should not cause you stress. It’s just supposed to be a nice gesture,” he reminds you. 

“Jooyeon, one week without a day off will be fine,” you tried again. 

“No. One week without a break is actually working twelve days without a day off. I will not allow you to do that. My precious love needs time to rest and I need time to be with you,” he firmly says. 

“Jooyeon I’ll feel bad if I tell them no,” you tell him. 

“I get that.” He lowers his arm that’s holding your phone, but still doesn’t give it to you. “But you really need to learn how to say no to others. It’s ok to say no to them.”

“But what if they get mad at me?” you voice your concern. 

“Then they aren’t really your friend,” he replies. “Tell them no.” He hands you your phone. He watches you as you explain to your friend why you can’t fill in for them. “Good job, I’m proud of you.” He kisses your temple. “Now what should we do this weekend?” He shifted the mood to a much lighter one.

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin

comment or message me to be added!

[cokoweee]

Tada part two.

There was NO way she was going to use one of her own brushes on his hair. She has washed it herself a while ago, but it honestly looked like it has been washed a grand total a twice since she last had. Disgusting. She rummaged through a duffle bag for a bit before finding an old brush. It really wasn’t hers, she had always used it on her brother when he was little enough to put up with her using him as her own personal doll, but she figured he wouldn’t miss it.

There was music playing when she entered the bathroom. He was sitting in the same spot she had left him, staring blankly at the wall. She only saw bathroom tile, but if he was seeing hallucinations it really wouldn’t surprise her at this point. His music choice was top tier though, so he had that going for him.

“ m’ back” she hummed

He lifted his head in small acknowledgment before turning back to wall and staying freakishly still. It felt wrong to say anything to him when he so obviously wanted to escape the confined space, but she figured she could probably make him take a shower when she was done which was a win for her. Distantly she wondered if he was claustrophobic. That was probably the reason why he was so uncomfortable.

She carefully grabbed her old brush, wary of the chipping purple color, and got to work on the mess in front of her. Undoing the clips she brushed out the knots. She really tired to be gentle, but some of the knots were more like matts. She eyed the scissors on the edge of the counter a few times before shaking her head and slapping conditioner into his hair. His eyes slipped closed at one point which helped Kendra fall into a simple rhythm.

“ Do you even own a brush?” She complained after spending a solid ten minutes on a single knot, trying not rip half his hair out, “ It’s like it hasn’t been touched since I last washed it for you”

He said nothing. Which was rude, so she flicked him on the head.

“ Stop that Leo.” He snapped waving his hand at her general direction. A beat of silence before he managed to curl himself into half his size.

“Who-“

“ Sorry, sorry I- you’re not- it’s not. Sorry sorry. ” he stumbled over his words as he gestured with his hands trying to explain.

“ Ok whatever. I’m almost done anyway. Just gotta put the actual mask in. Hold still a bit longer.”

He goes still once more, curling his legs toward his chest and pressing his chin into his knees, careful to avoid smudging his face mask. It looks rather painful, but Kendra can’t really complain because the less he moves, the sooner she’s done. The only real indication he gives that he’s still alive is the anxious twitch of his tail as it flicks on the floor.

~

A satin wrap is nestled around his head and a gentle tap on his shoulder lets him know he can get up. He kind of doesn’t want to, he’d rather stay here curled up in shame. So he doesn’t, and he wouldn’t but a small foot kicks him in the back and it hurts more than he would care to admit.

“ Let’s go.” She draws out the last word dramatically, “ I’m gonna get started on dinner. Which you will not be missing because I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you eat.”

“ Obviously I eat.” He rolls his eyes.

It was no where near enough food to properly sustain him, but sometimes moving was chore and the thought of food was too much. He has become quite fond of a little juice Drax created with a lovely blend of all the nutrients he needed, for days like those. Which granted was almost every day, but it mixed well with cheap beer, so ya know. He follows her into the kitchen, dragging his feet and hanging his head.

He sits on a stool and flattens himself against the counter top. Maybe he can make himself invisible and she won’t make him do anything else today.

You’re already a burden. She’s practically doing all the heavy lifting around here. All you do is a whole lot of nothing.

A sigh escapes his lips and he pushes himself off the counter.

“ What do you need me to do?” He asks, twisting his fingers awkwardly.

She says nothing as her brows furrow in confusion.

“I don’t really know. I usually do it myself. Don’t like people crowding my cooking space ya know?” She says slowly, turning her attention to the pile of vegetables she had just pulled from the fridge.

He does know. Mikey was the same way. The scene feels painfully familiar and he swallows the lump in his throat before walking over to her side and grabbing some vegetables.

“ Do these need to be diced?”

It would help lower the prep time of the meal if he diced while she did what ever she needed to do. Mike was always happy to have someone help with the grunt work as long as they stayed away, so he figured the same rules applied here.

Her face was still twisted in confusion as she nodded, albeit a bit dazed.

Dice them the way I taught you! Make a good impression on her. Heaven knows you need it.

He moves to the other side of the counter and chops. Over and over and over. It’s grounding and gives him time to think. He really wishes it didn’t. His mind wanders to his brothers as he chops. The kitchen starts to smell familiar, a blend of spices tickling his nose as he looks up at Kendra. She’s stirring something in a sauce pan before looking over her shoulder.

“ You done with those?”

A nod before he picks the cutting board up and brings it to her side.

“ You know how to sauté I hope?”

Another nod.

“ Good. I’ll be back in a sec. Im gonna go wash this out of my hair before it gets stuck to my head” She says walking away.

A flash of panic grips him as he grabs at his own hair.

“ What about mine?!”

“ I put mine in before I had to spend an hour detangling your hair.” She says rolling her eyes.

“ Ah.”

She pulls off her bonnet, running her fingers through her hair and walking down the hallway before shouting,

“ Oh yeah! I just sent the recipe to your phone.”

“ Please don’t burn anything!” She adds as an after thought.

At that he smirks. As if Mikey would ever allow him to be so incompetent in the kitchen that he would burn something as simple as this.

~

The kitchen smells even better than she left it. He’s flitting around the room grabbing all sorts of ingredients. He stirs with a ruthless intent, tossing potatoes and carrots into a pan. It’s oddly funny to watch him work so hard on such a simple dish when all he really needed to do was let it sit.

“ I didn’t know you could cook.” She muses crossing the kitchen to the stove.

A small shrug before he turns his gaze to the floor.

“ Learned from the best.” He says, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“ Leo?” She ventures carefully.

“No.” His response is whispered, almost reverent as he turns his eyes toward her,

“ My baby brother. His name was Mikey.”

She doesn’t press any further, choosing instead to grab some flour to roll out the bread dough she had made a few hours earlier. She wants to know, but there isn’t an easy way to approach the topic. Possibilities fill her mind as she works to shape the dough into a loaf. Her thoughts are quelled when he speaks again softly.

~

“ He died saving my twin.” A hand goes to stir the soup, avoiding her gaze. “ He opened a portal to save him from the prison dimension. But it uh- took more than he could handle. By the time I realized what was happening it was too late to help him. He literally crumbled in my grip.”

He didn’t know why he was telling her. He’s never told anyone this before. He might have told Draxum at some point in a drunken stupor, or maybe in those weeks after the invasion when he has clung to the poor goat like a baby. But he’s never actually told anyone what happened.

Words rush out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“ I wish I could have told him not to. His sacrifice was pointless. When we pulled my twin through the portal it was already too late. He was concussed and didn’t even know we had gotten him home.” He took in big lungful’s of air as he recounted the memory. “ He died in my arms, crying for home. I don’t think he even knew it was me holding him because he kept trying to escape my arms.”

His fingers wander to face as he feels a tear escape his eye. He turns himself away from her and stirs the soup a little faster. This is disgusting honestly.

Why would you tell her that? She doesn’t need to know! Now she’s going to know all the ways you failed! She’s going to hate you even more.

He shook his head as if it could clear the voices and continued.

“ A week after the invasion my older brother died due to my negligence. I hadn’t noticed the lingering effects of the infection until it was too late. I thought I could fix it myself, but days passed and nothing was helping him. When I showed up on Draxum’s doorstep begging him to help, there was nothing that could be done. He died because I was stupid enough to think that I could fix what was wrong.”

Draxum has assured him that even if he has gotten help for Raph immediately there was nothing that could have been done. The Krang was something Draxum had never seen before, there was no way for him to cure the infection, only a way to ease the pain. But Donnie knew he was only saying that to make him better.

He had failed his family that day. He failed a lot that day. He could have realized what Mikey was doing sooner and helped him. His hand is a constant reminder of that short coming. He could have stabilized Leo instead of just staring at his broken body. He could have made sure his father and sister were in a safe location instead of just assuming that they were fine. But no. Donatello just sat and watched his younger brother turn to dust. He watched his twin die in his arms. He sat and let his older brother whither away into nothing. He didn’t try to help his father or sister and their own and it cost them their lives. What’s worse, he never even learned his lesson.

He’s creating new failures with Kendra now. He watched her leave each night on those stupid dates. And he didn’t say a thing. He didn’t even try to help when she came back one night injured. He just sat in his room, watching it happen and doing nothing.

He’s so wrapped up in his misery that he doesn’t hear her walk to his side. She grabs the spoon from his hand, replacing it with a bottle of water and stirs the soup.

“ Go sit down,” she says pointedly, her hand on her hip. “ This will be done soon.”

He is more than happy to comply and slinks to the couch. He grabs a purple fuzzy blanket from the basket Kendra must have added to the room and wraps himself up like a child. It’s soft and feels just like the one he and Leo used to share when they had movie nights. The memory causes him to drift slightly out of focus with reality. He knows he shouldn’t dissociate, but falling into a void seems better than dealing with the mess he just created, so he lets himself fall.

Yup. That’s part two.

THIS IS BETTER YHAN ANYTHING I COULD EVER WRITE DRAW CREATE COME UP WITH IMAGINE FUCKI FUCUCIDUCUSIXUQYSIWBFHSHCID

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Part 1–Part 3

[electricbathsalt]

Yaknow, all that talk of “Why don’t any of you understand what I’m trying to accomplish/that it’s for the greater good” from Chisaki gains a whole bunch more layers with the confirmation that he was in one of AFO’s facilities as a kid.

Because since he was potentially experimented on (and considering he was the direct source of an apparent quirk copy, the chances of that are extremely high), that can spin the context/thought process greatly from apathetic stubbornness. He repeatedly claims that quirks are diseases and humanity needs to be rid of them, and it’s said he gained this mindset from a pretty much baseless study he read when he was younger.

Now here’s the thing; I always thought that was stupid. Or, uncharacteristic is a better word. I always thought “Really? Chisaki wholeheartedly believes some unsupported, one-off article and that’s why he hates quirks? The guy who meticulously thinks out and plans everything based on stone-cold facts and logic?” But then I realized. Humans in general, but especially kids, are going to look for anything to latch onto to outsource their frustrations about the traumas they’re going through that they don’t yet understand. Chisaki didn’t necessarily buy into that theory because he genuinely believed it, but because that while everyone else was treating quirks like the best thing a person could have, he knew that his own quirk was causing him pain via the experimentation (and potentially whatever landed him in the orphanage in the first place), and he wanted a way to outlet that distress, and to finally fault quirks, to tell everyone they’re not amazing or good. And that’s why he ‘believed’ that article. It gave him an out, an “I told you so!” moment, validation.

But what’s also interesting is how that all didn’t stop him from experimenting on Eri. And truth be told, I think Chisaki genuinely doesn’t understand that he’s traumatized. He doesn’t realize what he went through had actual, lasting effects on him. Instead he thinks, “If I could endure it, why can’t she?” And moreover, that whole “it’s for the greater good” thing is probably, whether consciously or subconsciously (most likely the latter), stemming from a thought that kids will no longer be experimented on for their quirks if quirks don’t exist anymore. He’s thinking, con or subcon (probably latter), “One last kid in the cycle before it’s broken”, since we know he thinks of Eri as a symbol for ridding the world of quirks and “returning it to normal”.

Also the whole thing that how Chisaki manipulates Eri (and kinda just his opponents in general) is potentially him repeating words that were said to him/him projecting, which coincides with his mindset that kindness is something that makes you indebted to someone else, going off the idea he possibly thinks of himself as a burden or a curse (hm), because what value does he have if he can’t be used to achieve someone else’s goals for them? To the point he simultaneously resents his own quirk and fears losing it because he thinks he’s worthless/weak without it.

Ahhh, anyway, this was like. My longest yap session yet. Sorry 💀🙏 but the facts are I’ll keep going. I’m just choosing to shut my mouth so that this doesn’t get any longer. 💀

[cheese-water]

Charlie is right.

Bolas Rojos won today. They got their revenge after yesterday’s beating. They’ve proven themselves as real competitors. They have literally won the battle today.

But they themselves have orchestrated the war.

Peace is no longer an option. All bridges have been burned for the red team. Any sympathy or pity from the other groups was gone as soon as they cemented first place. And even worse, there were many witnesses to their carnage. Primarily ElQuackity on green, who faced them head-on (so much for blaming the base raid on Bad), but Pol and Tina on blue saw those same chat messages. Like Charlie said, in situations like these, people will never forget. These are how grudges are formed, how small decisions lead to larger repercussions, and how consequences end up mattering after all is said and done.

The Bolas can’t go back now. They’ve made their bed of destruction and warfare, and now they have to lie in it. While the actions of the others may have led them down this path, do not get me wrong. They were not backed into a corner. There are many opportunities to do something different. For instance, the trader village or going full-on cult mode were genuinely viable options. Due to the lack of players on today and the players that were online’s motivation for the competition visibly waning, the red team could have easily isolated them each and indoctrinated them into the group.

To be honest, the Reds’ resistance to joining general vc only furthered their “us against the world” and “peace was never an option” mentality. Disregarding everything pre-purgatory, the only person who actually has positive relationships with the others is Foolish, who made an effort to interact outside of the team (1v1 with Étoiles, chatting with Tina and BBH, etc.). Unlike his teammates, Foolish really has set himself up well for the future, be it for trading, secret alliances, or if, for whatever reason, teams switch. And in games like these, that's how you gain credibility; that’s how you end up being pitied; that's how you survive.

And today, guess who won in that regard? The team in last place, SoulFire. Which thank god they did, because steamrolling the competition two days in a row is how you get majorly targeted. Their lack of progress (which was definitely unintentional lmao), the gen vc basically being BadBoyHalo’s “apology” tour for a bit (which again, very unintentionally focused the blame off of the six kills from their equally bloodthirsty leader), but most importantly, keeping Étoiles, the skilled and need I mention literal leader of the enemy team, company when his team was gone has more impact than even they might not realize. I mean, talk about damage control lol. Like going into Day 3, my bets on who’s group will form an alliance first are solely on green and blue.

Anyway, I am happy not only about the Reds getting the win they rightly deserve but also about the fact that they are aware of what they are doing. The moves they have and will make are purposeful, self-aware of their own “let’s all be peaceful” hypocrisy.

On Day 1, Blue and Green got to be the bad guys.

On Day 2, Charlie can’t help but question his own morality while doing the same terrible things that sent him down this spiral to ElQuackity tonight.

But I guess it's the burden that first place has to bear. I’m sure they’ll all get used to it eventually :)

[igetnosleep]

Finally Home

So I wasn't expecting my first fic to be well received. Thank you so much I'd been thinking of another fluff fic since I like the idea of a reader insert but you go through raccoon city with Leon. I honestly prefer the whole "Didn't go into STRATCOM training with Leon" since I don't like that kind of ridged environment.

anyway no warnings pure fluff. Leon admires you and how you've aged with him, age gap is like 1 or 2 years and set after Death Island. Hope you enjoy!

Leon stared at the empty apartment, the front door closed behind him leaving him in the dark. He kept the lights off, not wanting to lose whatever exhaustion he felt with his internal clock. God he felt like shit.

That fucking psycho. He barely made it out of Alcatraz alive. His heartbeat quickened as he breathed in slowly to calm himself down. A part of him itched for the bottle but it’s late. He's just got off doing paperwork now he’s home. 

“Leon?” His ears perked at the sound of your voice's heartbeat calming significantly, shoulders slumping at the sight of your silhouette peering from the hallway and turning the light on.

You blinked your eyes adjusting to the light slower than he did. You’re wearing one of his shirts while leaning against the wall squinting your eyes. You forgot your glasses on the nightstand, a silent protest of your aging body's eyesight no longer the way it was when you were young.

Leon found himself smiling and taking eager steps towards you, “Squinting real hard sweetheart, you’re almost blinking.” He joked earning a half-assed jab to his side from you. His arms wrapping around your shoulders pulling you close and taking the chance to bury his face in your neck taking in the scent of the soap you use. 

“I’m home.” He announced quietly against your skin pressing small kisses and nipping your neck drawing out a relaxed sigh from you, your arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, face buried in his shirt ignoring the smell of gunpowder and dead fish in his clothes. 

You’d been having trouble too? Thank god it was mutual. “Rough day?” You questioned never prying too much, earning you a hum and a small “it was a day.” he’d never give you the answers you wanted you’d already seen too much from Raccoon City. 

A part of Leon wants to take that away from you, maybe that would be his burden to carry for the both of you but he knew you thought the same too. You wanted peace for him. No more nightmares. You drew patterns on his back, your nails finding the itch on his back that he couldn’t reach and he groaned, squeezing you tighter “god I love you.” Drawing a laugh out of you it was small, muffled by his shirt.

“You think too much.” You murmured glancing up at him, your face showing laugh lines, acne scars and crow's feet; wrinkles in places he’d kiss everyday knowing he’d been there for every one. He’d do it again if it meant getting to see you age with him and live life over again and again. Thinking about what he did wrong, what he’d do right, what he’d do over again.

You squint your eyes at him suddenly suspicious of his starring, your lips fighting on deciding whether to smile or pout as you stared at him.

“Leon.” You gently called him away from his thoughts, his hands on your waist while you pulled your arms out of his hold.

Your hands were still soft, welcoming and warmer than he remembered them. Who cared if the apartment’s air conditioning unit was running on run blast and the place was freezing and your hands were actually simulating what snow felt like but it didn’t matter his cheeks would warm your hands.

Small sacrifices. He’d make them all for you.

“You’re smiling so much, what's got you looking so dopey, Lee?” He giggled kissing your palm as your other hand traced the bags under his eyes from sleepless nights, cheeks fuller now than before. 

You’d remember how he’d come home bruised battered covered in dirt looking like he’d gone through hell. The start of your relationship hitting unknown paths from the zombie infested streets. How he’d shut down on you and drop from the face of the earth. You’d try to move on but no one could comfort you like Leon can. Date left in a frenzy after hearing you scream in your sleep. Uncomfortable. Offended. Scared.

Casual arrangements stemmed from the need for comfort.

Only recently had you and Leon really been honest with your feelings. 

Leon hummed “Just looking at you.” he said in a small sing-song tone causing you to roll your eyes playfully. “Really?” “Really.” he peppered kisses on your face and you desperately tried to fight him off a giggle leaving you as he wrestled you close and forced his affection on you like a cat owner to their precious feline.

“You’re a sap, you know that?” you state the obvious as he guided you to bed. “You love me regardless.” Leon hummed, kissing the crown of your head. 

You’d sit waiting for Leon to get ready as he’d peek every so often telling you the same “You don’t have to wait you know?” 

“Hurry up and I won’t have to wait.” 

“It’s late.”

“And?”

“You have work in the morning.”

Your eyebrow quirked up as you crossed your arms over your chest eyes narrowed and defiant. “Don’t you?”

“Sweetheart-”

“I won’t kiss you if you’re going to keep nagging me.” 

Leon huffed brushing his teeth quickly and getting into bed receiving a well deserved kiss as he cuddled to you pulling the blankets over both your bodies. He felt content warm despite how cold you kept the place. You drew patterns on his back nails tracing a scar gently as he dozed off finding that your hand had gone still long ago.

He should retire. Find a house for you to live in and finally break out the savings he had stored since he started working for the DOS since he had you and Sherry in his life. Sherry was out on her own living her own life. He couldn’t be prouder. He’d scream it from the hill tops if he could.

You deserve peace too. You’d always wanted to go somewhere quiet.

He wanted to give you the world.

That might happen sooner than expected.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Fast Car (S.R.)

Summary: Reader drives a sleepy Spencer home. Request: Dr. I Cannot Drive Spencer Reid trying to convince reader to drive him somewhere Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Driving Word Count: 700

MASTERLIST

The Virginia backroads seem longer at night. Most of the world is sleeping and you are wishing for the same, but your bag is heavy and still sitting on your desk.

In the dim lighting of the closed bullpen, you look over at the only other one left. The same man who had offered you a ride to and from work… but was now slumped over, half-asleep on his desk.

You can’t find it in you to be bothered when he looks so sweet—a little bit pathetic with his bedhead and pouted lips—but sweet, nonetheless.

He doesn’t lift his head when you approach him, but he does whine. He shifts like he can turn the desk into the bed he wishes it was.

“Come on, wonder boy, it’s time to go home,” you chuckle.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You don’t dignify the protest with an answer. Instead, you slowly pull his chair back until he must move.

He does. He groggily pulls himself as together as he can, but it’s you that carefully arranges his hair back into its normal state of disarray, giggling all the while.

Spencer’s face turns pink at the gesture, but he tries to hide how fondly he feels.

He fails, of course. You can see it clearly in smitten eyes that scan your face for any hint of reciprocity. You wonder if he can see it, since you feel it so strongly.

If he does, he doesn’t mention it. He just clears his throat and asks, “Do you… do you think you can drive?”

“Why?” you ask in a very rhetorical manner, “Is something wrong?”

Spencer answers, anyway.

“I’m fine, I’m just really tired. I didn’t sleep well last night, and driving is… exhausting. There is so much to pay attention to, and I don’t want to do any of it.”

“I know,” you coo. You place both hands on his cheeks and squeeze until his yawn turns back into a pout. “Poor sleepy boy can’t do two things at once.”

“It’s way more than two things!” he squeaks.

You smile. You recognize the rant coming from a mile away and decide that no matter how much you love to hear him talk, you’d rather hear something less morbid. Even more importantly, you’d like to hear it on your way home.

“Spencer, not only am I happy to drive, I would prefer it,” you explain.

His offense is immediate as he replies very sternly, “Hey! I’m a very good driver!”

“Oh yeah?”

He catches the smirk on your face; he knows you’re only teasing him. But his competitive nature bleeds into his voice as he huffs, “Better than you!”

“We’ll see about that.”

He accepts the challenge. Or at least, he pretends like he does until the wheels start turning.

It takes him less than five minutes to fall asleep in the passenger seat. You think about waking him just to tease him, but you ultimately decide to let him sleep.

You watch the road but wish that you could watch him instead. You listen to the soft sound of his breath through the ruckus of the road beneath your wheels. You think back to the taunt you’d delivered back at the office.

When you’d mentioned your preference for driving, you hadn’t meant it as an insult. You had simply meant that you liked how peacefully he slept in your company. You loved the way he never doubted that you would keep him safe.

It hadn’t mattered to you who would bear the burden of watching the road; any amount of time, no matter how infinitesimal, would be worth whatever the world requires.

Your foot eases off the gas pedal as you reach a long stretch of road. There are no headlights in your rear view. It’s just, Spencer, and the Virginia night sky unimpeded by city lights.

The car almost comes to a stop before a pothole. You maneuver around it, careful not to jostle the sleeping boy to your side.

For as long as you can, you drive under the speed limit and watch twice as hard for anything that might excuse you to take just a little bit longer.

The car coasts down the road.

Spencer had never slept better.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

[vodika-vibes]

ive been having a really really rough week. my depression has been kicking my ass and ive been just rotting in my bed most days. but would it be too much for me to request something where the reader (gender neutral please) is essentially doing that (rotting in bed, barely eating, and not leaving their home) when their boyfriend (tech) comes home and sees his partner like that.

i think i just need something really comforting and sweet with tech taking care of the reader, and being really gentle and understanding about everything.

For You

Summary: When your depression hits you hard while Tech is away, you struggle to force yourself to do anything more than lay in bed.

Pairing: TBB Tech x GN!Reader

Word Count: 693

Warnings: Reader is depressed

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I'm sorry to hear that you've been having a rough time. I hope this fic helps, even if it's only a little bit. I will admit that this isn't my best work, Tech was fighting me every step of the way, but I hope you like it anyway.

Your gaze is locked on the holo at the end of the bed. You’re not quite sure what you’re watching, it looks like an infomercial about some kind of super towel.

It’s dumb. It’s dumb and stupid and pointless…but rolling over to change the channel to something else feels hard and impossible, so instead you just curl around your pillow and keep watching the infomercial.

You haven’t gotten out of bed for longer than it takes to go to the bathroom in days. Though, you did force yourself to eat some instant noodles this morning. And the reminder from Tech that he was coming home today did prompt you to drag yourself to the shower earlier.

But even so, when you hear the front door open, you can’t seem to work up the will to go and greet Tech, and you kind of hate yourself for it.

The last thing you’ve ever wanted was to be a burden for him, and yet here you are. Burdening him.

You hear silence for a moment, just a moment, and then familiar heavy footsteps through the apartment, before your bedroom door slides open. You do manage to twist so you’re able to peer up at the man standing in the door.

Neither of you say anything for a moment, and you watch as Tech’s gaze slides from you, bundled up in your most comfortable blanket, to the stack of water bottles next to the bed, and the empty cup of instant noodles.

And then his gaze slides back to your face, and there is something soft and warm on his face, “Having a hard time, love?”

“...m’sorry.”

“You do not have to apologize. Not for this. Not to me.” Tech walks around the bed, and picks up the trash, before he leaves the room for a few minutes.

And then he’s back, and he’s no longer wearing his armor.

“Do you feel up to getting up with me, love?” He asks as he sits on the side of the bed.

You sigh quietly, “That sounds hard.”

“That is alright, you do not have to.” He reaches over and lightly brushes his fingers against your cheek, “How long have you been in this condition?”

A shrug, “A couple of days. Maybe.”

“Have you been eating?”

“...sorry.”

He smiles at you sadly, “It is alright. Do you think you will be willing to curl up on the couch while I make you food?”

You consider his words for a long moment, and then you nod, “I guess I can do that,” You admit, and you’re rewarded with a beaming smile and a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“I am glad,” Tech admits, his touch so gentle as he encourages you to sit up and then swing your legs off the bed. 

“I’m sorry for being such a…pain.” You mumble as you lean into him and press your face against his shoulder.

“You are not a pain. You are just having a hard time right now. And that is okay.” Tech folds his arms around you, “Is there anything specific that you would like to eat?”

“...something easy?”

“How about pancakes?”

You rub your nose against his shoulder, “I suppose pancakes don't sound too hard.”

“Good. I know that they are your favorite.” Tech guides you towards the living room and gets you settled on the couch, before he tucks a blanket tightly around you, and he kisses your forehead, “One plate of pancakes, coming right up.”

“Thank you, Tech.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of me. For not being mad. For being you. Take your pick.”

“You do not have to thank me for that.” Tech presses a light kiss to the top of your head, “I am happy to take care of you. And I would never be mad. Not at you. Not for this.”

He presses one more kiss to your forehead, and then, finally vanishes into the kitchen to start making food.

You curl up under the blanket, and watch him move around the kitchen, and a small smile crosses your face. You love him so much…you’re just glad that he loves you just as much.