#This took me way longer that it should have

[lunaliart]

mwah

[skzhua]

episode 1.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female reader

genre: Fluff, angst, exes-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 5.5k (not proofread yet!)

warnings: Cursing, post-breakup feelings.

summary: the first day back, and you already find yourself into a whirlwind of emotions, mainly caused by one guy you had been dreading to see for weeks.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

The holiday season was, by far, the time of the year you were the happiest. The music, the activities, the food, the people you'd spend that time with... That was the problem this year.

Getting to know Min Ho's mother was a blessing in itself. She welcomed you in her home with open arms — although she wasn't home often — and was nothing but a sweetheart to you. While the first days you spent in L.A. were close to what some would call the dream, you didn't love it so much. The people, who were far too superficial to your liking, and the house — being seven times bigger than your place in Korea — were two factors that totally removed the holiday spirit.

The third one would be Min Ho.

"Are you here yet?" you heard from your phone.

Three weeks had gone by since the incident, which meant that school was starting again. In your opinion, the winter break should have lasted much longer than this. Not only because you were dreading the amount of schoolwork you would get, but also because you knew there would be faces you just weren't ready to see again.

"I just got in the taxi," you chuckled as an answer. "Did you save me a bed?"

"I did, but your room won't be with me and Juliana," Yuri informed you, a glint of guilt in her voice.

"Don't worry, as long as we have a dorm together."

You kept chatting for a bit until the car pulled in front of KISS. Your aunt turned around to face you from the driving seat, and you could see the worry on her face. While she had made sure to take care of you the best she could, you weren't doing any better. You knew she couldn't help but feel like it was her fault.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"Yuri."

"I'm glad she is around. At least, you'll have someone to lean on."

You scoffed. "I don't need a babysitter or a daily therapist."

"Just," she breathed out. "Try to enjoy yourself. Like before, don't hesitate to stop by my office if you need anything. Your uncle is also there if you-"

"Thanks," you said dryly, hurrying yourself to get out the car.

It felt both strange and familiar being back here. With a sigh, you gathered your luggage and began to head towards the entrance. It wasn't long until you were engulfed into a hug, one so warm that it wasn't hard to guess who it was.

"Get off," you whined jokingly.

"I didn't see you for a month, let me be clingy for a day, will you?" Q argued as he let go. "Did you get taller?"

You rolled your eyes. "A month isn't that long!"

"Can you just let me be sweet and tell you I missed you? Jeez, I forgot how grumpy you could be..."

You smacked his arm lightly, finally letting a laugh out. "Fine, I did miss you too."

"Knew it," he smiled satisfactorily. His eyes were quick to shift from you to something behind you — or rather someone. "Look who's back!"

Turning around, it took you a second to spot Kitty discuss with Professor Lee — now Principal Lee for obvious reasons — and Alex. Q didn't skip a beat in abandoning you to run towards Kitty. In his defence, he was most likely the one who was most excited to see Kitty when it was made known that Yuri brought her back to KISS. You wouldn't admit it out-loud but she truly was one of the few people you were looking forward to see again.

"Holy shit! There's my chaos queen!" Q almost screamed before hugging Kitty, definitely tighter than with you.

Kitty squealed as they reunited. "Dude, I'm so happy to see you!"

"Me too," he squealed back.

This was definitely a show for you to see as you slowly made your way to join the pair. Kitty finally saw you and hugged you just about the same, blabbering about how she couldn't believe she was back to see Q and you again. The excitement in her died down quickly, though, as she remembered she was next to Principal Lee.

"Also, so happy to share with you both how serious I'm going to take my classes this year at KISS."

You held back a giggle. "Right, yes!"

"That's literally what we've been saying this whole time," Q added, playing along.

A call interrupted Principal Lee's watch party which allowed both of your friends to squeal once more, much to your ears' demise.

"We have so much to talk-" Kitty began to say, only for Alex to cut the conversation short.

"Dad's been feeling a little bit stressed," he informed, something you found so odd to come out of his mouth. "I've been staying with him over the break. We're in, like, some hilarious buddy comedy."

As much as you appreciated Alex, you wanted nothing more but to be elsewhere at this exact moment. Not that you weren't glad he was getting to spend time with his father, but the way he was telling you about it was almost... cringe? (No, it definitely was.)

"Alex!" Principal Lee called out.

"Yeah, I'm coming! I'd better go," he said as he began to walk away. "Kitty, I'm really happy you're back."

Kitty responded with a warm smile. "Thanks. Me too."

Once Alex left, Q helped Kitty get her luggage while you tried to somehow make your two traveling bags work, stacking one on top of another.

"You okay there, Y/N?" Kitty laughed.

"Maybe I need a hand?" you smiled awkwardly, looking at Q specifically.

"Give me your bag already."

The three of you finally walked into the campus, as many other students did the same. The breath smelled like home, but the ambiance had a twinge of foreign energy. Maybe they changed the decoration. Maybe you had to get used to seeing younger new students everywhere. Maybe there was a little something you were still not ready to confront and being back didn't help...

"Crap, I wanted to ask Lee about that Simon guy from my mom's letter," Kitty said, disappointed a bit.

"You have all semester to find Simon," Q stated.

Kitty shook her head. "No, I am done wasting time. At home everyone was asking me questions. Lara Jean, Margot and even Peter because he practically lives at our house on school breaks."

And that was also what you did for an entire week of your school break. You won't do the same mistake again, that's for sure.

"They wanted to know what I learned about my mom," she continued. "How my Korean was... And I realized, I hadn't really learn anything about my mom. Like, not actually. And I almost flunked out. My Hangul sucks... So this semester, it's Kitty 2.0. I'm living in a single, I'm going to be single."

You really did forget how much of a yapper she was. It might be annoying at times but you were thankful she was there to fill in the lack of interaction on your part. For some reason, the ground was much more interesting, so were the trees. Since when were there that many trees on campus? Were they always there?

"I think it's kind of a shame to be swearing off love right after you discover you're bi," Q sighed.

"No, I didn't say I'd be a monk, okay?" Kitty defended. "I want to try dating girls."

Well, that was always an option for you to discover too, if some things were to happen. By things, you meant one, really.

"But maybe someone outside my direct friend group. Less potential for drama."

Sometimes, it is worth it to listen entirely to what Kitty had to say. Most of the time, her struggles didn't apply to you. On that case, however, this was a good plan: not date in your friend group. Easy, no? You won't do the mistake again.

"But," Q sighed again. "Can you really be over Yuri already? I mean, she got you back into KISS."

"Lara Jean convinced me to write a goodbye letter to Yuri," Kitty answered, as if she had been prepared for any scenario. You wished she could give you some of that energy. "Just like she did for all the boys she loved. And I brought that letter with me so I can reread it in case I find myself slipping into old habits. You know that you can write one for Florian, and you can write one for Min Ho."

You raised an eyebrow as to tell her you would never, but this was something to consider. At this point, if it wasn't obvious already, you were doing everything you could to forget about your ex-boyfriend.

Q, as for him, shook his head. "Actually, Florian made it really easy to get over him by being a lying, cheating dumbass that almost cost Dae his scholarship."

"You did the right thing, turning him in," Kitty said with an approving nod.

"I also didn't mean to trigger an investigation that caused a bunch of other students to be expelled too," Q said along with a chuckle to hide his discomfort. "I guess we're both chaos queens."

"Clearly, Y/N isn't."

You shot your head up at the mention of your name, looking at the two in confusion. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you alright? You've been awfully quiet," Kitty asked, concern in her voice.

"I-" you began only for Q to cut you off.

"Oh, look. There are the boys," he gestured right in front of you three. "Dae! Min Ho!"

The said-boys had just picked their coffee order as they spotted Q calling them out, spotting Kitty and you as well in the process. Suddenly, it felt like the entire world stopped, but not in a good way. For what felt like minutes, Min Ho and you held eye contact. You tried to decipher what his eyes were telling you; was he sad? Mad? Scared? You weren't sure. He had always been good at hiding how he was truly feeling. What you knew was that you certainly weren't feeling so good. Seeing him after things fell apart was like a knife stabbing you in an already opened wound. At the same time, your body was almost being pulled to his... You wondered if he was feeling the same.

You saw him gulp before he broke your staring session, pulling Dae away from your sight with him. It was a matter of seconds before you couldn't see either of them.

"That was weird, right?" Q said, confusion spread onto his face. "What was that about?"

"Oh, they probably just didn't see us," Kitty tried to shrug it off but Q didn't buy it.

"No, they definitely saw us."

"I'll go find my room," you muttered, wanting nothing but to leave.

"Yeah, I'll do the same! I'll see you at the assembly."

He gave you both a look but didn't insist on it. "All right," he sighed, giving you back your bag.

"Thank you," you smiled as you and Kitty change directions, now walking towards the girls dormitories.

"You saved me, there," Kitty thanked you.

"Saved us both, you mean," you corrected.

"Right, I keep forgetting. It's just, it was going so well between you two. It's still surreal to me that it didn't work out."

You scoffed. "Blame Min Ho for that."

"I just wish you didn't have to go through this alone."

"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, though she probably could tell you were hiding your pain.

"If you need anything, my door is always open! Speaking of..." she said as you arrived at her dorm.

As soon as she tapped her key card on the sensor, the door flew open, revealing Yuri in all of her glory. You quickly put two and two together, concluding this was also your dorm and that you would share it with Kitty, Yuri and Juliana. That's something you were comfortable with. As for Kitty, her face told you she didn't have the same thoughts as you.

"Kitty, I missed you so much!" Yuri exclaimed, hugging her tightly at the same time. "And Y/N!" she said, hugging you too. "You've been sobbing on your own for too long. I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

You laughed slightly. "It's good to see you, Yuri."

She went for another hug with Kitty, who told her she missed her just the same while her face remained as shocked.

"I thought about you all break, and I was so excited you were coming back," Yuri said.

"Me too," Kitty answered. "And I only got to come back because of you."

"And now," she started, looking at the two of you. "We get to live together?" she said with amazement, earning a confused look frim Kitty.

"What? I signed up for a single. There must be a mistake."

"This is not a mistake. This is fate," Yuri affirmed with conviction.

"What's that about fate?" someone behind Yuri, who could only be Juliana, asked.

"Hey, Kitty. I'm Juliana. Oh, hey, Y/N'" she waved at you before focusing back on Kitty. "It's nice to finally met the girl that helped me and Yuri get back together."

Yuri agreed happily. "Can you believe this? The four of us are roomates? A dream come true. Especially with you," she nudged your arm. "It'll do you some good, I promise."

"Thanks, Yuri," you said gratefully. "Shall we come in?"

"Oh my, yes, of course!" Yuri exclaimed before making way for you and Kitty to come inside.

The dorm was slightly different than last year. While all the furniture looked rather similar, the arrangement of the rooms were different. There was a room with two beds, which was obviously taken by the couple given their clothes were already in the process of being transferred into the closets. The other room had a bunk bed and a single on on the other side of the room. With the number of students increasing each year, it made sense that the room had an additional resident.

As you settled slowly but surely, you all refrouped around the kitchen counter, taking the moment to, again, rejoice about your reunion.

"Wow! This... I didn't... Wow!" Kitty stammered and it took everything in you to not react to her clumsy behaviour

"I think Kitty's at a loss for words," Juliana chuckled and you allowed yourself to copy her.

"I had no idea you were staying on campus this semester," Kitty said to Yuri.

"Oh. Last-minute decision. I had to get out of my parents' place," she sighed, pouring herself some tea in the process. "Bad vibes there... They're getting divorced."

"What?" Kitty exclaimed.

You made your way around the kitchen counter, putting your hand on your friend's shoulder. "I'm so sorry! You should have told me, I would have been there for you."

She shrugged. "It's fine, you weren't exactly able to help be with it, anyway... Honestly, it should have happened years ago. Now, my mom's in Thailand, off the grid at some wellness center, rejuvenating."

There was a small knot forming in your guts as the guilt for not being as available as usual spread in you. Nonetheless, she did send a smirk your way as to show she wasn't that mad. A relief.

"But let's talk about how much fun we're gonna have living together! I can't wait for you three to get to know each other." she said enthusiastically before turning to her girlfriend.

Kitty's emotions were very clear in her face. Panic, discomfort, and hurt. To save her from making it even more obvious to the girls about her crush, you nudged her arm which seemed to bring her back from her headspace.

"Hello?" a voice called out at the entrance. Seconds later, a girl walked in, bringing with her a few suitcases. "Hi, I'm Stella. Stella Cho. Give me one second... This place is like twelve times bigger than my old school," she muttered as she caught her breath.

You exchanged looks with Kitty before focusing back on the girl.

"And, here is the last roomate," you greeted her kindly. "I'm Y/N. And this is Juliana, her girlfriend Yuri-"

"Wow," she breathed out, looking at the couple. "They let you guys live together?"

Yuri shook her head. "They don't know. If they did, they wouldn't let us live together."

"And there's a rumor going around that they're implementing room checks every single night, so we have to be extra careful," Juliana added.

"Well, my lips are sealed!"

"Oh, and I'm Kitty," your friend pitched in. "You can bunk with me and Y/N."

"Oh, cool! Um, can one of you show me how to get to the administration office? I still have to register‐"

"Yes, I can show you. Right now," Kitty offered, a bit too fast in your opinion. "If you don't sign up ASAP, you'll end up with the worst professors, so let's go."

"Wait, wait," Yuri stopped them."Before you go, we are planning a fun group barbecue dinner tonight, on me. Are you guys in? 7:00 p.m.?"

"Of course I'm in," you cheered.

Stella's eyes grew bigger, so did her smile. "Are you kidding? I would love that."

"Uh..." Kitty started and you knew it would be, yet, another poor attempt at excusing herself. "Dang. I wish I could, but I promised my sisters that I would FaceTime them and tell them about the first day back, so..."

Juliana's eyebrow went up. "Won't it be like 2:00 a.m. in Portland?"

Kitty smiled awkwardly. "Indeed, it will be. Yes. Good point. Well, I'm... I'm in. " She turned to Stella, pushing her towards the door. "Let's leave right now."

"They're in," Juliana repeated before walking up to the refrigerator.

Yuri gave you a look. "Is she okay?"

You shrugged. "Kitty? She's always like that."

"I guess I just forgot. She didn't exactly reach out to me during the break. Speaking of which, you also sort of disappeared after the break up."

Your shoulders dropped. "I don't want to get into it."

"You've been saying this for a month! I really think talking about what happened to a friend will help you deal with your emotions."

Something you noticed since the previous semester was that you struggled much more with opening up than you thought. With Min Ho, you started to think you could finally reveal yourself fully to people. However, he quickly made you move three steps back from the improvement you made. Especially in terms of your parents.

"He cheated?"

A small laugh left your lips. "He did not. He... He crashed out, basically."

"In English, please! I want to help too," Juliana joined in, already chewing her granola bar.

You took a deep breath before jumping into the story of how things unfolded. "The first two or three days were fine. I was mostly staying at the house, to be honest. Min Ho was out clubbing, that night. I didn't go, I was too tired. His mom had just left for some meeting and she still wasn't back. Anyway, when he got back, I don't know what took over him. He said some unclear stuff about me ruining everything." You stopped for a second to recollect your emotions as you felt the tears at the brim of your eyes. "He blamed me for his mom leaving him again. When I tried to resonate with him, he burst out by saying I couldn't understand him since I didn't have parents."

Yuri took your hand, rubbing the top of it with her thumb. "Y/N, I'm so sorry."

"I didn't even wait until morning to leave. I packed, booked a last-minute flight, and left." You paused. "What hurt the most is that he didn't even apologize. And he didn't try to stop me from leaving. It's like he had no remorse."

"It's Min Ho," Juliana said. "He has no consideration for people other than himself."

"I would argue with that," Yuri disagreed. "But yes, this was a dick move."

You could feel your breath get caught in your throat, which was a sign for you to stop talking about it. "Anyway, should we go to the assembly? We wouldn't want to be late."

And with that, you picked up your purse and headed straight out of the dorm, leaving the two girls with nothing but worry about you.

"Students, please take your seats so we can begin!" Principal Lim spoke up on stage, waiting a few seconds for students to quiet down. "Thank you. Students, faculty, and distinguished board of directors, welcome to spring semester at the Korean Independent School of Seoul..."

"How long is this going to last?" Juliana whined.

"Knowing him, hours probably," you answered only to be responded by a groan. "Complain all you want but I haven't seen the one person I'm avoiding, so I'm pretty glad we're in it for hours."

"You're unbelievable."

"I'd take this over facing Min Ho any day."

Yuri sent a look your way. "You do know you will have to face him one way or another, right?"

"And I'll do everything to push that moment as far as I can."

"Well..."

You knew that tone too well. "Yuri," you said in a warning voice.

"He'll be there tonight..."

"Yuri," you repeated, a bit louder this time.

"I didn't know he was that much of a jerk to you!"

You crossed your arms on your chest, not wanting to continue this conversation. It was evident that what happened would affect the friend group. You just didn't expect it to be so soon. And, of course, who were you to make your friends choose between Min Ho and you? After all, you hadn't reacted so well to Min Ho's outburst. As much as he insulted you, you had your fair share of names you called him: spoiled, entitled, narcissist, obnoxious, fake... You hadn't been much of an angel either.

"Moving on to point number four," Lee continued as you focused back on his announcement. "Nightly curfew checks for all dormitory students."

Your two friends grunted at the statement, rolling their eyes as well. Their annoyance did not last long as club music began to blast within the entire auditorium before the lights shut off. The doors suddenly flew open revealing Young Moon, also famously known as your ex-boyfriend's father. With back up dancers following him, he trotted all the way to the stage with a confidence that Min Ho definitely inherited. An entrance that was television worthy let's say.

"Are you ready, Korean Independent School of Seoul?"

Choreography, flashy smiles, interaction with the crowd... You were starting to wonder if you were at school or at a concert for a second. A few more dance moves, and the music finally died down, leaving a stressed Principal Lee on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Moon spoke in the microphone. "It is time to shoot for the moon and..."

"Lang amongst the stars!" the majority of the students continued in shouts.

"You heard it here first," he kept talking. "Moon Management is launching a performing arts program that will make your school the envy of the entire world. And just maybe one of you will be my next superstar."

The crowd cheered once more. Meanwhile, to say you were thrilled would be a lie. Min Ho told you how his father really was. This, it was for show and show only. Looking around at the students who were screaming still, your heart stopped when you saw him again, leaning on a wall at the back of the room. His face had no expression, meaning he was deeply unimpressed with how his father was acting on the other side of the auditorium. He hadn't changed much, you noticed. His hair still fell perfectly on his face; his jawline was still sharper than a knife; his lips seemed even softer than you remembered it... You looked elsewhere before your body would do something out of your control, like walk up to him.

"I'm thinking this blazer," Kitty showed you.

"Cute," you smiled.

Stella, for her part, took a crocheted sweater out of her suitcase. "And I think this is cute, no?"

"With the dress, it's perfect," you approved but Stella could only frown.

"Are you not coming?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. It's been a pretty long day."

Your friend, stubborn like she is, shook her head in disapproval before pulling out a knitted cropped shirt with elongated black pants from the drawer you had previously filled that morning. "You're coming with us, and you're wearing this."

"I love you, and I like your enthusiasm, but no."

"Y/N, it's my second chance at studying here. If I can finally be with all my friends again on the first day, I want you there with me. It won't be the same otherwise."

Her little pouty face was enough for you to suck it up and agree to come along.

An hour later, and the five roommates were walking together to the barbecue restaurant that Yuri picked out. In the end, Kitty was right and taking some fresh air with your friends was probably what you needed. And so what if you met Min Ho? You could always ignore him.

"Kitty!"

All of your eyes turned to the voice and you found Dae. As sweet-looking as he is, he happily hugged Kitty before finally seeing you were there too, embracing you as well.

"It's so good to see you," Kitty exclaimed, all giddy and shit. "I'm so sorry we didn't get a chance to talk earlier."

"Right, speaking of which..." he started and then turned to you. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Me?" you asked, mostly surprised.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, but can you talk to Min Ho?"

"Dae-"

"He's mad that his dad is here, but I feel like he's also upset about... you know. I think he wants to go over what happened with you, but he's not brave enough to do so. Besides, I feel like he is still upset because of me. I went a bit crazy accusing him and I hate thinking it might have ruined our, but also your relationship."

"You had nothing to do with it, I promise. And..." You stopped to glance at him for a moment. "I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

Him and Kitty didn't waste a second to leave you some space as they joined your other friends who were already chatting in front of the restaurant's door. You broke your focus on them to bring it to the back of Min Ho's head. Fiddling with your fingers, you hesitated. But then, you couldn't let Dae down. And maybe you couldn't let yourself get away from the opportunity to speak on the fact.

"Min Ho!"

As soon as he turned around, it was that same feeling you'd been having every time you saw his face today. As much as you wanted to hate him, you couldn't. Not only that, but his perfect features reminded of better days, something you were still secretly holding onto.

"Walk with me?"

As soon as the words left your mouth, a small smile appeared on his face. Silently, he left the others to join your side and you began to stroll around mindlessly. It reminded you a little too much of other nights like these. You hoped he could see how much energy you were putting into not accidentally grabbing his hand.

"I-" he tried to say but stopped himself. "When you left, there was this voice in my head telling me to go after you."

"But you didn't."

He let a breath out. "I didn't think you'd want to talk after-"

"I know," you exhaled. "But I wanted you to. And when you didn't even try to stop me, let alone apologize, it... It broke my heart ten times more."

"I don't want to hear it... How much I hurt you, I mean. I was an idiot, I was drunk, and I was mad at life."

"As you always are, just saying."

He rolled his eyes but you both found the humor in it as small smiles appeared on your faces. "I'm truly sorry about what I said. I did not mean any of it."

"And I'm sorry for accusing you of being things that you aren't. Clearly, I was mad at life too."

"You were mad at me," he corrected.

"That's what I'm saying, yeah."

A blush appeared on his cheeks. Oh, how much you missed having this much effect on him.

"I'm not saying I want this to-"

"Of course not-"

"I still think you're an ass."

"And I still think you're annoying."

"It was a way for the universe to tell us this was not worth it."

"Yeah, who were we to think it would work out in the first place?"

"We were idiots."

"Yeah."

A silence settled between the two of you. For a minute or so, neither looked at each other and you even thought he didn't allow himself to breathe so he wouldn't make a sound. Finally, you decided to speak up.

"But you did smile," you said in the smallest voice possible.

"I'm sorry?" he leaned down to hear you better.

"When I implied just now that you were my life, you smiled. So, why did you if you supposedly believe we were stupid to think we were a match?" you asked in a challenging voice.

You could see in his eyes that it awoke something in him, a playful side of him that you hadn't seen in what felt like years.

"That was a grimace, puppy."

You shut your eyes in annoyance. "Oh gosh, you're still as much of a dick as I remember."

He smirked. "You remember my dick, uh?"

"Moon Min Ho, I swear to God, I will-"

"Guys?" You fucking thanked Dae mentally. "Our table's ready." He looked between you two, unsure if your conversation had turned on the negative or positive side. "All good?"

"Yeah," Min Ho answered. "Just telling Y/N how happy I am I won't have to be her servant by making her coffee every morning again."

You shook your head in disapproval. "Hmm, and I was telling him how great it is to not be living with a control freak who protects his skin care products like it's his children."

Dae laughed, seeing it was pure harmless bickering. "I see."

He went in, and the two of you followed behind closely. Yuri made the reservation, meaning there was more than enough room to fit the entire group. You were about 10 people in total and, in all honesty, it felt great to not be alone for once. Sure, one of the people was your ex, but at least you cleared the air a bit. As you sat down, you introduced Stella to Min Ho, figuring she would appreciate not getting left out for being the new girl. The three of you chattered for a while and it was incredible to you how you were so at ease with Min Ho around compared to earlier that day.

Yuri then made a toast, stopping everyone from talking. "Thank you for coming, everyone. I hope you all had a great break. Mine was kind of a mixed bag, to be honest." All of your breaks were one hell of a ride, you thought. " But the thing that kept me going was knowing that, no matter how messed up my family is, and they can be very very messed up..." This earned a mutual chuckle. "They're not my only family. I made a little family of my own here last semester. So this dinner is really to say thank you to all of you here. Cheers!"

You collectively clang your glasses together, and it took you no time to dig in your plates. You hadn't had bibimbap in a while so you didn't stop yourself from stuffing your mouth.

"Want mine?" Min Ho offered, almost in a mocking way.

"You've seen me in worse states," you grumbled, food still in your mouth.

"No really," he insisted, putting the one he grabbed for himself in front of you. "Take it."

"Y/N?"

Your head shot from your phone to Stella. "Oh, hey Stella! What's up?"

"I noticed how you tried to make me feel included with introducing to people, like Min Ho. You two are friends, right?"

"More or less..." you answered carefully, unsure on where this was going.

She took a step closer, eyes on the floor. "Well, I think he's really cute, and we were talking a lot at dinner and... I think I'm gonna ask him out!"

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[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

Standing in the yard, dressed like a kid, the house is white and the lawn is dead ⋆·˚ ༘ *

You stood firm on the ground, eyes stern and unwavering. In front of you was a place all too familiar—the "shelter" where you grew up, the house that had been your home for five years of your childhood. As you stood there, memories flooded your mind, both the happy ones and the melancholy ones. Your eyes roamed around the place, taking in every detail before you finally decided to enter, lest anyone mistake you for some kind of lunatic loitering outside someone's house.

As your feet mindlessly carried you into the room, a heavy, shaky sigh escaped your quivering lips. It hadn't even been five seconds since you entered, yet you already felt the urge to cry. Oh well, that's what memories do to you. You gently caressed the dirty white wall adorned with your old, fading doodles. Most of them were pink—your favorite color then and even now as an adult. You smiled sadly as the memories of your time in the house flooded back, making you nostalgic. You scoffed sarcastically at the irony that you missed this place more than the manor where you'd spent a longer time.

Perhaps it was because the old you—the innocent, sweet, and pure one—was still within these thin walls that had sheltered them through all the bad times. You could feel their giggles and laughter lingering in the air. Tears streamed down your face as you stared at every sticker, doodle, and writing spread across the walls. Somehow, you cried out of joy, relishing the fact that the child you left behind in this house was still here in some way. Still innocent, still unaware of the harm the world could do.

In the manor, all the love you ever knew came from the man who introduced himself as the family butler but whom you soon came to know as your father. He was the love you craved and begged for at Bruce's feet. He fed you, took care of you, and taught you the things you needed to know. He attended family days, PTA meetings, and other events that your biological father should have been at. Under Alfred's shelter, you did everything you could to try to level with your siblings' talents—learning acrobatics, martial arts, drawing, baking, and more.

Yet it was Alfred who, in the dead of night, under the whispers of the cold wind whipping past your teary face, assured you that you would never need any of those skills to truly earn your family's love. All you needed was to be yourself. You allowed yourself to believe his words and lived them as your truth for a short time, but soon gave up on the idea, accepting that they wouldn't truly see you.

Now, dwelling on your lingering past and memories outside the manor, you remembered those you knew before coming to live with them. You reminisced on the thought of your mother. You remembered her.

You remembered how poverty ate your mother away and that she couldn't provide necessary needs for you but you, sweet, beautiful, angel you never complained.

You remembered how much you loved those barbie shows and movies but couldn't afford the dvds and even a proper functioning television so you sometimes watched it from your window across your neighbors, and while watching you saw a glimpse of their life. Their happy, perfect family life. How they cuddled their daughter and watched those silly barbie movies together. Your eyes softened as you thought "I wanted that" the little you hoped that maybe one day momma will get better and finally love me. Your tears poured from your eyes at the thought.

You remembered while you were doing your homework alone, you heard a whimper outside your window near the alley. As you peeked your tiny head outside, your braids flowing with the cold, harsh wind, your eyes searching for the source of noise. As you let your gaze travel through every corner of the alley, you saw a dirty, poor puppy whimpering, alone, calling out for its mother, its father, anyone. You ran hastily outside and collected its tiny and fragile form gently in your arms. "I'm here, I'm okay, you're safe," you whispered softly to the creature. And from. That very day you fed it and kept it sheltered secretly from your mother. You named her Amara. It suited her. You didn't have much play mates so you sometimes play with her by the yard where you and her would either run together or lay down. You never really got to say goodbye to her. From "that" moment on, you never got to go back to your house. You wondered how she was. Was she well fed? Did she think you abandoned her? Does she miss you? The guilt of living her ate you up the longer you dwelt on the past. You shook your head and sighed, trying to forget about all of it. You mourned every version of you. And this was your most treasured one. Thinking back on all the memories you had of the old you, of her. You thanked them for being so forgiving, for being so brave, for being so content with what she had, and for never trading anything for it.

They Were such a kind soul. And you're glad that they gets to stay where they were the happiest despite the nightmare they endured those days. You will always look up to them. They were and will always be a part of you. You took one last look at the house, the drawings, the dirty corners of the room, and released a breath as you closed your eyes. This was it. You'll finally get to say goodbye-

Whimper

You froze as you heard a familiar whimper. You turned around and slowly walked towards the opened door, and you saw her. Amara, your friend. You can't help but let the tears fall as her once brown fluffy appearance is now old and grey. You wondered how even in the light of old age she somehow still seems so youthful. She was still your baby. With a shaky voice, you tested the name. "Amara...?" she wags her tail in delight as a response to the familiar name she's been waiting to be called for so many years. You kneeled down and gently caressed her. "Oh, baby. You've been waiting for me, haven't you?" she whimpered as if answering you. You noticed her trying to catch her breath and her body growing weaker. You glance at her tail and see its wagging has become more frail and slow. You glance at your eyes, and you know. You smiled at her and whispered, "It's okay, baby. You can rest now." Her face weakly lit up, and she slowly closed her eyes, calm and loved, finally in your embrace.

After some time, you tenderly wrapped her body in a blanket. You carried her to the yard where you both used to play together as kids, a place where you ran freely without a care in the world. Borrowing a shovel from a tenant in the apartment, you buried her there, in the spot where you both were the happiest.

You whispered silent prayers for your companion and left with the memories. This was it. You've made your peace with the old you. Almost. There was one more thing you have to do.

You used believed that your mother could have been so much more. She was a beautiful woman. Smart, even if other would beg to disagree. But, you knew that she knew how to play her cards right to get what she desired for. She would have been so powerful if she used her sharp mind to something much more.. Productive. Yet she chose to sleep with men, abandon her daughter, and let herself be eaten by poverty and lust. Well, you didn't really mind if she abandoned you. You've always felt like you were the burden, the barrier to her way of succeeding and the chain locked onto her feet, keeping her from truly running away to what she has become. You've seen it in her eyes, the thought of running away and living a new life, but when she looks at you.. She saw a mistake she could never be freed of. A mistake. If only you weren't born, she would have been so happy.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink. "Ma'am?" the nurse asked. Suddenly, you were back to reality. You blinked again, processing her words. You glanced at her expectant expression and blurted out, "Y-yes, yes, uhm. Yeah. I'm ready." She smiled and said, "Great. Let's go this way, ma'am." You followed her hurriedly, not wanting to test her patience. As you walked, dissociating and thinking of all the possible outcomes, the nurse suddenly stopped in front of a room and said, "We're here. You can enter now." You nodded and thanked her silently.

Facing the door, you chanted in your mind, "You can do this," with a mix of determination and uncertainty. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and opened the door. There she was—your mother, in all her glory. Bare-faced and vulnerable in her comfy hospital gown. You almost choked on your saliva, seeing her this... bare. You had always seen her so filtered, her face adorned with colors, her clothes tight and bright. Awkwardly, you shifted in your place and slowly sat beside her bed as her gaze followed your every move. You cleared your throat, preparing to speak, but she beat you to it.

“I know you.” you widen your eyes at her as she continues “you're my child.” you weren't shocked at the fact that she acknowledged you but the fact that she called you Her child, and the softness in her eyes. You were starting to think that maybe this isn't your mother, because she never looked at you like that. Never in years of living together has she even glance at you.

She chuckled at the sight of your confused and shocked state, bringing you out of your thoughts. "What? Shocked? Of course, I still remember you, Y/n," she weakly said, her voice small and quite different from the harsh tone she used to yell at you with. You inhaled sharply, trying to stop your tears from falling. What the heck? Were you about to cry again?

"I thought with how much resentment you harbor for me, you would have forgotten about me by now," you smiled sadly at her, watching her face drop slightly but still smiling weakly.

"Oh, Y/n," you almost crumbled right then and there. Oh, how much you had longed to be called so sweetly by your mother's voice. "I never hated you... that much," she said bitterly, and you stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I just wasn't born to be a mother, no—at least not in this life. I'm a mess and I always will be. And I'm sorry I couldn't change for you because nothing can and nothing will change me anymore."

Your lips frowned at her words. "I always thought that maybe you could have been better without me," you said. You miss her, and you will always miss her. She was your whole world, but now seeing her and talking to her made you realize her world was clearly much different from yours. Her world was something one could not escape. You knew you couldn't live like that, and it seems that she cannot live any other way. They said that a mother and children exist as wretched mirrors of each other. You were all she could have been and she was all you might have been.

She closed the distance between you and embraced you for the first time. "You never were. It was me. I was the problem. You were just a child. In another life, I would've been able to care for you." You didn't question her on why she couldn't do it in this life because you knew. You knew she didn't have the capability to be a good mother and a morally good person now, and that was okay. You couldn't live with The fact that she will never truly care for you and will always hold secret animosity towards you if you force her to be a mother to you. You closed your eyes for a minute and silently took in the feeling of a mother's embrace for the first and last time.

"This is the last time you're ever gonna see me again," you said. Your mother chuckled bitterly and replied, "I know. Good for you, kid. Leave everything behind and start anew. You deserve it."

You soon moved out of her arms and held her hands tightly, looking into her eyes. With a deep exhale, you walked out of the hospital. This was it—you were finally free from your past. You had made your peace with it, and now it was time for you to move forward. You knew that if you didn't confront the horrors of your past, they would haunt you for the rest of your life. You had made a good choice.

As you stepped outside, the cool breeze greeted you, and you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It was as if the universe itself was acknowledging your newfound freedom. You took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, savoring the feeling of lightness that now enveloped you. Walking down the street, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The city seemed different somehow—brighter, more alive. You noticed the little things that you had overlooked before: the vibrant colors of the flowers in the park, the laughter of children playing, the distant hum of traffic. It was as if you were seeing the world with fresh eyes, unburdened by the weight of your past.

For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace. The past no longer held you captive. You were free to live your life, to pursue your passions, and to surround yourself with people who truly cared for you. It was the beginning of a new chapter. You get home to your apartment and sit at your couch grabbing some blankets and making hot cocoa. You thought to yourself that this is what you exactly needed. Watching barbie movies in your new cozy apartment without any burden past onto your shoulders, the little you would have been so proud, making you smile at the thought. This was it. Nothing was going to stop you now.

That's what you thought.

It has been 2 weeks since you've moved in your apartment and you're getting ready for your ballet rehearsal. You were especially excited about this as you were going to perform swan lake when you got to enact one of the most important and famous characters, how cool was that? As you were about to grab your pink bowed pointe shoes a sudden “ping!” notification was heard from your phone. You turned your head and went to grab it expecting a message from one of your close friends or even your ballet mates but all you were met with was a message from a person you least wanted a one from.

Dick. Your supposed older brother is asking you to hang out with him. At this very moment. You dropped your phone and stared at nothing while breathing heavily. You feel your heartbeat rapidly breathing, the knot in your stomach growing more tighter and tighter each minute you let the thought sink into your brain. You almost tripped at your foot as a result of your vision disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. This wasn't right, this wasn't supposed to happen. When-how?-why?! Why was this happening now? You were only starting to feel like everything in your life was finally starting to go your way. Why did this have to happen? It was as if the universe was mocking you. You bit your lips until it bled but you couldn't care less. You were numb. You hadn't even realized that you were nowate for today's rehearsals. With trembling hands you reached for your phone and shakily pressed the button “block” as you silently prayed that he-they would never come in contact with you ever again.

Of Course that wouldn't happen though. The universe was never really on your side.

Dick? What's happening here?

A sudden deep voice spoke, bringing Dick out of his deep trance. He turned around and saw his father standing outside the door, looking suspiciously at him. He stared at his father and saw the look on his face—full of confusion and unfamiliarity, not towards him but the room he was in. "I-it's Y/n," he stuttered, the name tasting so sweet on his tongue. He wanted to roll around in the scent of you. Was that weird? No—he just missed you, that's all.

"What about them?" Bruce's voice carried a nonchalance that almost made Dick angry. How could he be so indifferent about his precious sibling? With a hard voice, Dick replied, "They're gone." Bruce's eyes widened slightly at the response. What did he mean you were gone? You were just here when... Wait, when? He worriedly glanced at Dick, and as if understanding, Dick answered, "I know."

Bruce inhaled sharply and stepped inside the room, your lingering scent greeting him. Your trophies adorned the walls. This was your room? No, it couldn't be. This was too little. This was just... not it. The difference between his other childrens bedrooms and yours was so noticeable. You didn't have any fancy chandelier decorating yours. You didn't have your own bathroom.

Bruce's eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. The neatly arranged trophies, the faded posters on the walls, and the small bed that seemed too empty now. He walked over to the desk and picked up a framed photo of you, when was this? You look so.. Grown? How old were you? Were you old enough to live alone? How come he didn't know? Did you have a job-were you even allowed to have one? he clenches his fist as he stares at the sight of your image and sees your bright smile. His heart ached at the sight. How had he missed this? How had he not noticed the signs?

Dick watched his father, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He wanted to scream, to demand why Bruce hadn't paid more attention, why he hadn't been there for you. But he knew he wasn't any better than his adoptive father was. Besides, it wouldn't change anything. The damage was done.

Bruce set the photo back down and turned to Dick, his expression a mix of regret and determination. He saw the tiny diary and other papers scattered across the floor and picked them up, reading them one by one as he slowly spiraled into regret and guilt. Dick watched as he knew this was going to make him understand. Today made it all clear to him. Why there was a nagging feeling inside of him saying that there was something missing in the manor. It was why the sweet muffled music of the orchestra haunted the manor, the same kind of music haunting their bedroom. Like it was a reminder, a warning. That something special was lost. The soothing sound of humming, light footsteps around the manor now gone. The pink bows tied around the handles of the stairs, the love that the plants receive now nowhere to be found. It was because you took that love with you.

"We need to find them," Bruce spoke, his voice steady but filled with urgency. His knees bounce as his Jaws tighten anxiously.

Dick nodded, his resolve matching his father's. "We'll find them," he replied, his voice firm. "And we'll make things right."

As they left the room, Bruce carrying the framed image of you tightly, almost as if he was paranoid that something would take it from him, and dick gently running his thumb through the texture of your pink, bowed, bright diary, the weight of their mission settled on their shoulders. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but they were determined to bring you back. The silence of the manor was a stark reminder of what they had lost, and they were ready to do whatever it took to make amends.

Bruce was anxious. He didn't have a plan. Ironic, because Batman always had a plan. It was an unspoken rule—Batman was always prepared. But now, he found himself at a loss, his mind racing with uncertainty. Perhaps it was because he knew every single person in Gotham. As the guardian of Lady Gotham, he prided himself on understanding the intricate web of connections and motives that defined the city's inhabitants. He calculated every person's actions, paid attention to every detail, and watched from the heart of Gotham.

He paid extensive attention to everyone... except you.

It wasn't intentional. He had always been consumed by the weight of his responsibilities, the never-ending battle against crime, and the need to protect the city. But now, standing in your room, surrounded by the remnants of your presence, he realized his failure. The irony of it all struck him—Batman, the meticulous planner, had overlooked the most important person in his life.

Now he was desperate, he may not have a plan but he was desperate. He'll do anything to get you back. Any possible way to get back all the times he failed you, when he failed to be a father to you. He swore to protect you and never let you out of his sight ever again.

Dick wasn't any better. As he walked, his thoughts played tricks on him, but in a way he almost relished. His mind insisted that you must be so scared without him, without your older brother to protect you. He didn't even consider the possibility that you could be an independent, fully functioning individual on your own, or the fact that you had grown and most likely abandoned the thought of "bonding" with him. In this moment, his mind was consumed by the image of you and the curiosity of what more you had within yourself that he had neglected. His anxiousness grew, causing him to bite his nails and run his hands through his hair in frustration. His breathing became ragged, and his heart pounded in his chest. It was as if he had turned feral, his bloodshot blue eyes itching to be blessed with a vision of your face.

The more he thought about it, the more his mind played tricks on him. He imagined you scared and alone, wondering why your older brother wasn't there to protect you. He couldn't bear the thought of you suffering because of his neglect. His thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. What if you were hurt? What if you were in danger? What if you had given up on ever reconnecting with him?

The guilt gnawed at him, making it hard to focus on anything else. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had missed so many opportunities to be there for you. His heart ached at the thought of all the moments you had spent alone, craving the attention and love that he hadn't given.

As he continued to walk, his thoughts became more erratic. He imagined you thriving without him, having found your own path and your own sense of independence. The possibility that you no longer needed him stung, but it also filled him with a strange sense of pride. You had grown, despite everything, and that was something to be admired.

Still, his mind couldn't rest. He needed to see you, to know that you were okay. The uncertainty was driving him to the brink of madness. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, determined to find you and make amends.

he wouldn't rest until he saw you again.

Both Bruce and Dick disregarded everything around them, unaware of the curious look Tim gave them. He followed quietly behind their backs, raising an eyebrow as he wondered why they hadn't noticed his presence yet. Normally, these two were incredibly guarded, so Tim was shocked by their lack of awareness. What could have made them so unfocused?

Bruce—the Batman—and Dick—the first Robin and now Nightwing—were both engrossed in a particular object. They seemed to be completely absorbed, their usual vigilance overshadowed by their intense fixation. Tim watched as Bruce's eyes remained glued to a framed photo on the desk, his expression a mix of regret and determination. Meanwhile, Dick's gaze was fixed on the pink notebook in his hands, his fingers gently tracing the glittery cover.

Tim couldn't help but wonder what was so important about these items that it made two of the most vigilant people he knew drop their guard. The framed photo of you, smiling brightly, seemed to hold Bruce in a trance, while the pink notebook, adorned with bows and glitters, seemed to capture all of Dick's attention. They were so consumed by these objects that they had let down the walls they had built through years of vigilantism.

It had to be something incredibly significant—something better yet, special.

“What are you two doing?” asked Tim, suddenly breaking the silence between the three of them as he watched the father and son duo flinch, obviously flabbergasted at his sudden interruption at their deep trance. He observed as their face turned from shock to going back to their frowning faces making him mirror the same expression. Dick clenches his jaw and exhales sharply preparing himself to speak when he is suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice he would always recognize.

"What is going on here?" a figure with deep forest-green eyes asked, standing tall in the shadows, his cold demeanor unwavering. Dick's eyes met his, and he said his name. "Damian. Wha—"

"You have deliberately abandoned your promise to train with me today. Why?" Damian's voice was sharp, full of accusation. Shoot. That was right. Dick had forgotten to train with his younger brother today. But it didn't matter now; his other sibling needed him, and it was about time they knew about them too. He glanced at Bruce's unfocused state, feral and restless.

"It's about Y/n," Dick said firmly.

Tim stood still for a moment, trying to figure out who "Y/n" was, while Damian immediately sneered at the mention of his "rival." He couldn't pinpoint why your presence angered him so much. Maybe it was because he had to share the title of being the Wayne heir with someone so... normal, someone so far below his level. You both were so different. Perhaps he was jealous of you for being so normal, for not having to worry about tainting your hands with blood and painting others black and blue. What did you even do? He didn't know, but he bet it was something a normal civilian would.

Meanwhile, his peripheral vision caught Tim standing still, deep in thought. Damian saw him processing quickly, his mind running fast as he tried to figure out who you were and why you were so relevant at the moment. Then suddenly—aha! Tim remembered now! You were the kid who had pestered him non-stop about some game.

Tim's eyes widened as he recalled the memory. The realization hit him like a wave. He had been so dismissive back then, but now he understood the significance. Guilt washed over him, mixing with curiosity and concern. What had happened to you? Why were you so important now?

Damian's sneer softened slightly, replaced with a look of contemplation. “What about them?” asked damian. While Tim wondered the same. Suddenly Bruce's cold and deep voice said “they're gone.�� Damian raising an eyebrow of his response, and Tim answering “gone? Gone how?” switching his gaze from dick and Bruce's form awaiting for one of them to answer his question as the tension in the room thickens. “I mean that they're gone. All their things not found in their room, no trace of them not in the mansion, and not even a goodbye.” Tim and Damian frowned at the same time. Damian scoffed and thought you were probably just making a big scene so the attention would be on you. Bruce said “we need to find them. Now.” his voice left no choice for them to abide by his command.

Now alone in the CCTV room, Tim let his bored gaze wander over the footage from a long time ago, his palm supporting his head. Suddenly, something caught his attention. He watched as you sat, his fingers tapping the keyboard to increase the volume. You hummed lightly at the footage, a simple gesture but not to him. Your voice was so familiar to him. His eyes dilated as you continued humming, your voice sweet as honey, as light as a mother's touch trying to lull her baby to sleep.

He zoomed the footage closer and closer, almost as if he wanted to go through the screen just to hear your sweet, angelic, melancholic voice. Your voice was like a soft fur blanket to him. He didn't know if he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation, but he swore you were covered by a soft light, hugging your form and kissing your skin gently.

Tim sat in your "presence" for a bit, soaking in your voice. As he listened, memories flooded back. He recalled distant muffled sounds within the thin walls, lulling him to sleep, chasing away the demons that kept him awake at night. He had so desperately wanted to close his eyes and rest, and he remembered thinking maybe it was just a voice in his head, or maybe a real-life angel offering him salvation from suffering and the sweet pleasure of sleep. Now he knew, the angel was called "Y/n."

His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he leaned in closer, his breathing steadying as he watched the footage. The realization hit him hard. How had he missed this before? How had he not recognized that comforting voice? The gentle humming, the presence that had brought him solace on sleepless nights—it was all you.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch, his heart aching with a mix of regret and longing. He remembered the nights he had spent tormented by nightmares, the countless times he had struggled to find peace. Your voice had been his lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. How had he been so blind? How had he not seen the importance of your presence in the manor? Tim's thoughts spiraled as he recalled the moments he had dismissed you, the times he had been too wrapped up in his own world to notice you reaching out. He needed to see you. To hear your voice, to take you back, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness as his forehead kisses the cold, dirty floor, or to maybe steal you back without a word. He didn't know, he just had to see you.

The footage continued to play, your voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind. He sat there, never unwavering, always in awe of your voice and never taking his attention off you. He sat there,Unaware that he had been playing the same footage for hours and hours. His dilated eyes worshipping you as if you were a god.

He felt a deep sense of loss, realizing that you were gone, and he hadn't even had the chance to thank you for all the nights you had unknowingly saved him. Determined, he knew he had to find you. He had to make things right.

After some time, finally. Tim's resolve hardened as he stood up, his eyes never leaving the screen. He would find you, and he would make sure you knew how much you meant to him. With renewed purpose, he left the CCTV room, ready to join Bruce and Dick in their search. Together, they would bring you back and rebuild the bond that had been neglected for far too long.

With much focus on the object of his obsession attention, he failed to notice a tall figure in the shadows, watchin. Thinking after all these years they have finally come to their senses, realizing the greatest gift of all was right under their noses.

Damian was a dangerous person. To be fair, he was raised to be an assassin and an heir to the throne from the moment he was born. Not even a moment out of the womb did he catch a glimpse of the normal life he so desperately wanted. He trained day and night, month after month, year after year, to become the perfect product of the world's greatest detective and the daughter of the king of assassins. Imagine the inner turmoil within him when he didn't meet the expectations set upon his shoulders. All his life, all he knew was to fight. In any situation, his first instinct was to fight and guard himself for his life.

Sometimes, he wondered how they expected a child to lead thousands of assassins to create a bloodbath. Behind his pride and arrogance was a deep-seated anger towards those in charge of his fate. He was furious that his innocence had been stripped away, clawing its way back to him, but ultimately, they succeeded in giving him a future burdened with the weight of guilt for painting the young and innocent red.

Damian's upbringing left him with a constant battle within himself. The expectations placed upon him were immense, and he often felt like he was suffocating under the pressure. The relentless training, the unyielding discipline, and the need to prove himself consumed his every waking moment. The anger he felt was not just directed at those who shaped his fate but also at himself for not being able to escape it. Many didn't know of it but he found it hard to be Robin. The conflict between leaning to your instincts or “your- now- morals” was hard. To kill and to save was wrong and somehow to save and to forgive was right.

Despite his impressive skills and abilities, there was a part of him that longed for something more—something normal. He envied those who lived ordinary lives, free from the burden of bloodshed and violence. He wondered what it would have been like to have a childhood filled with laughter and innocence rather than combat and survival. As to why he wonders what more could you possibly want? He was so sure that you had so much wonderful time living such a luxurious life in the manor and never having to prove yourself to be worthy of something in being able to get the object of your desire. How could you run away from this life? From your life? You were so unfair, so selfish.

As he continued to grapple with these conflicting emotions, Damian's exterior remained cold and guarded. He rarely allowed anyone to see the vulnerable side of him, the side that yearned for a different life. But deep down, the scars of his past lingered, a constant reminder of the life he was forced into and the innocence that was stolen from him.

He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and released a heavy sigh. What a bother. Making his way to every corner of the manor to "inspect" and see if you had left any trace of yourself there. As he walked down the path, letting his bored state guide him, he glanced at the thick walls and noticed some unfamiliar works of art. His gaze roamed around the room, settling on various paintings he had never noticed before. It was as if the paintings spoke for themselves, screaming out for anyone to notice and appreciate them. The different textures, colors, shapes, and stories behind the art captivated him.

Damian liked to think that he noticed everything and had the ability to be highly aware of his surroundings, whether he was familiar with them or not. But at this moment, he paused, questioning himself. If he was truly aware, how had he managed to overlook these breathtaking canvases filled with bright colors that made him... feel things? He took a step forward and saw a tiny signature on the left side of one of the canvases. He brought his hand up to softly caress the painting, gently and carefully, as if he were afraid that a mere touch could destroy it.

Engrossed in admiring the paintings, he failed to notice the tall figure beside him. It was only when the man spoke, "Master Damian," addressing him, that he flinched slightly.

"Ah, Alfred. My apologies, I was a bit distracted by the art adorning the walls, which seems to be... unfamiliar to me. Would you mind telling me where my father keeps buying these paintings? I must say I'm quite... impressed."

Alfred frowned and smiled sadly at the youngest Wayne. "Well, Master Damian, these paintings are actually not your father's doing. Rather, they are Master Y/n's work of art."

Damian's eyes widened in surprise. He turned back to the paintings and said "Y/n did these?" he asked, almost incredulous. The realization that you had created such beautiful and meaningful art struck him deeply. He didn't even know that you could draw much less create such.. Beautiful art. While he was thinking about it he realize that he had complimented you, you!

"Indeed, Master Damian," Alfred confirmed. "Y/n spent countless hours creating these pieces. Each one holds a story, a piece of their heart."

Damian felt a pang of emotion through his chest, he couldn't pinpoint what it was but it was somehow nagging him about something, or rather someone. His fingers traced the brushstrokes with a newfound reverence, as if trying to understand the emotions you had captured on canvas.

"I never knew..." Damian whispered, more to himself than to Alfred. The layers of vibrant colors, the delicate details, and the raw emotions conveyed through your art were all a testament to the depth of your soul. He felt a connection to you that he hadn't realized before, a sense of camaraderie and understanding. And he was totally not dissing you just minutes ago.

Alfred placed a comforting hand on Damian's shoulder. "Art has a way of speaking to us, Master Damian. It reveals truths that words often cannot. Y/n's art is a reflection of their experiences, their joys, and their sorrows. It is a part of them that they have shared with the world."

Damian nodded, taking a step back to fully appreciate the entirety of your work. Your art had opened a door to a deeper connection, and he was willing to walk through it. He didn't know why but in a way this was proof that you had always had some kind of connection to him.

As Damian and Alfred stood there, surrounded by the masterpieces you had created, a sense of resolve settled over Damian. He frowns and takes a look around all the work of your art. His style doesn't differ much from yours. the caress of brush ever so slightly seen, and the emotions behind the soul of your paintings, like his. What made you so similar to him? And that, he will not know until he finds you.

He knew that finding you and bringing you back was not just about making amends—it was about recognizing and celebrating the unique and irreplaceable person you were.

Y/n considered themselves a keen observer, attuned to the delicate nuances of the world around them. They noticed the gentle yet sometimes harsh swaying of the wind as it danced with the leaves, creating a symphony of nature's whispers. They noticed the lady sitting on the park bench, quietly absorbing the view of the home she once grew up in, her memories interwoven with the present. They noticed the ducks by the pond, gracefully gliding through the water alongside their mother, a portrait of serene tranquility.

Y/n noticed everything, yet no one noticed them. And it was fine. They had long accepted this reality, enduring the loneliness of being invisible in a world where they saw so much. The weight of being unnoticed had become a familiar companion, a constant presence that shaped their existence. In the silent spaces between moments, Y/n found solace in their observations, finding beauty in the overlooked and meaning in the mundane.

So why were they just noticing you just now? Why? When you have just started to accept and move on. Why must they bring the horrors of the past when your current life is filled with hope arraying a new journey, now destroyed.

Why couldn’t Dick just let you be, drifting away in the silence you’d crafted? Why couldn’t he leave you to fade quietly, just as you had promised yourself you would, a ghost of your former self, untouched and unbothered? Yet there he was, an ever-present weight, his hands—rough, calloused, scarred by years of untold burdens—forcing your face into the past, as if his touch could rewrite history. His fingers dug into your skin, twisted into the soft contours of your face, tearing through the years of numbness, of denial, dragging you back to a place you had sworn you’d never return.

And then, Tim. Oh, Tim. The boy who once didn’t even see you, who barely even remembered your name when it lingered in the air of the manor. Now, he’s relentless, his fingers tapping into your phone with the same quiet insistence that his presence once had in the dark halls of that place you used to call home. You want to scream, to rip the silence apart, to do anything but feel what you’re feeling now—this suffocating pull to return to them, to face them, even when you know you never should have to again.

The ache swells, the lump in your throat is a tangible thing now, a choking presence you can’t swallow down. It’s the same searing pain that’s lingered, festering, hidden beneath layers of what you pretended was healing. How cruel it is, to have spent so much time trying to break free, only to find that some things, some people, are never quite done with you.

The ghost of them lingers, burrows deeper, with every unanswered message. They still haunt you, even from afar. You hate them for it, for still holding the power to break you open, to make you bleed from places you thought had long scarred over. It feels like a thousand wounds opening up again—slow, deliberate, bleeding you dry in a way you don’t know how to stop.

You stared blankly into the emptiness, feeling numb, when suddenly a hand rested on your shoulder. You flinched instinctively and turned to see who it was. Your eyes widened as you recognized your ballet teacher standing behind you. "Miss Kavinsky! I-I... Hi! I’m—" you stammered, but she quickly cut you off with a smile.

"Y/N L/N-Wayne, I know," she said with a warm tone. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you."

You winced slightly, the sound barely audible, but Miss Kavinsky didn’t seem to notice. "Come on, let’s meet the other dancers. I’m sure they’re eager to meet you."

The surprise hit you hard, and you stuttered, "M-me?" You couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

She grinned, a playful mix of amusement and mild disbelief on her face. "Yes, you. You're kind of a celebrity here, Wayne. Not surprised with a talent like yours."

Her words lingered in the air, but you went quiet, caught off guard by the compliment. You couldn’t fully process it, the idea of anyone looking up to you seemed so foreign, so distant. And somewhere in the haze, you barely registered the way she had called you "Wayne.”

As you and the other dancers gathered at the stage, a wave of anxiety washed over you. The weight of thoughts about Tim and Dick pressed heavily on your mind, and the pressure of the moment only made it worse. Just as your mind started to spiral, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Hey! You're Y/N, right? I'm Desiree, but you can just call me Des."

You forced a smile, barely hearing Miss Kavinsky as her voice faded into the background, announcing something about attendance. Your attention was now solely focused on Des, who had just broken the ice. You shook her hand and smiled more genuinely, the tension in your body loosening up a bit.

"Hi, Des. Yeah, you already know who I am. Nice to meet you."

You both exchanged a quiet laugh, and the chatter around you faded as you continued talking. For a moment, you felt like you could breathe again. You asked the usual questions: "How old are you?" "What's your favorite ballet?" The conversation flowed easily, but when your name was suddenly called for attendance, you were snapped back to reality.

"Here!" you called out, your voice getting lost in the sea of dancers.

But then Des said something that made you freeze.

"So, are you excited that both of you are here?" she asked with a playful giggle, her smile sweet and innocent.

You blinked, confused, but smiled through it. "Both of us...?" you repeated, trying to follow along.

Des chuckled softly at your puzzled expression. "You and your sister, silly! It must be so nice to perform together. My brother wouldn't even try to get into ballet, you know?"

Her words, lighthearted as they were, suddenly made your world feel like it was crashing down around you. You felt a cold panic begin to rise. Your fingers instinctively dug into your palms, almost drawing blood. Your smile wavered, barely holding on, while your eyes fluttered, teetering on the edge of tears. Des’s voice became distant, her words fading into a muffled blur as your thoughts spiraled out of control, bloodshot eyes starting to sting with unshed tears. Your heart raced, and the chaos inside you was too much to contain.

In that very moment, her name echoed through the air, sharp and clear. Without thinking, your gaze shifted, and you locked eyes with her. Her wide, unblinking stare pierced through the noise, anchoring you in place. For a fleeting second, you wondered if she had been watching you all along—since the instant your name was called, or perhaps even before. You couldn't be sure.

What you did know, however, was that the weight of her gaze felt like a force, pulling you into a quiet abyss. It made you feel small, fragile—as if you were prey beneath the steady, unyielding gaze of a predator. A shiver ran through you, and suddenly, all you wanted was to escape, to flee from the suffocating intensity of her eyes, which seemed to strip away every layer of protection you had left.

The fates were clearly playing with you now.

Cassandra was an exceptionally gifted individual, much like her siblings, each of whom possessed their own unique abilities. From the moment she first pursued ballet, her family showered her with unwavering love and support. She had access to training that most could only dream of—privileges afforded to her not because of her wealth, but because she was no ordinary person. She was Batgirl, the daughter of Batman by choice, a mantle she wore with pride. So, when an invitation arrived for her to join the prestigious Swan Lake performance alongside other top-tier dancers, it hardly came as a surprise. After all, excellence was something she had always embraced, both on the stage and off.

As she gets ready for her first rehearsal she can't help but notice that some of her siblings are missing. She shook it off and ate her food but also not abandoning the thought of asking about the absence of her siblings and father, to a familiar companion of their family:Alfred. As where Alfred only replies with them being busy about.. Something, yet said to her to fret not and just worry her mind about her ballet play, quickly chasing away her concerns for her family with a smile that made her feel lighthearted. With a chuckle she got up and made her way to the location of where the dancers were told to meet.

Cass had always believed she was the only one in her family who truly appreciated the delicate artistry of ballet. Her passion for the graceful movements, the precision of each step, and the beauty of the performances had always felt like a private world to her, a world she inhabited alone. She couldn’t recall a single moment where anyone in her family shared even the slightest interest in it. So, when she entered the crowded theater that evening, expecting to be surrounded only by fellow ballet enthusiasts, she was taken aback by something unexpected.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, she spotted you. For a fleeting moment, her heart skipped a beat, not from the rush of seeing someone in the crowd, but from an overwhelming sense of familiarity that washed over her. There you were, standing like a ghost from a forgotten past, an unexplainable connection sparking between you both. Cass couldn’t place it, but it was as though she had known you forever, even though your paths had never crossed before.

Her mind wandered, replaying the memories that had been buried deep within her. A distant image flashed across her thoughts: she was standing in a room filled with soft, pastel-colored fabrics, the scent of leather and polish hanging in the air. Two pairs of pointe shoes rested beside one another on the floor—one was familiar, worn and well-loved, the other brand new, the laces still fresh and untangled. The second pair, the one that felt entirely foreign, immediately piqued her curiosity. She was certain it wasn’t hers, yet the connection to it lingered, something so subtle but undeniable.

The realization hit her like a wave. She didn’t know you, not consciously, but somehow she felt bound to you, as if fate had woven your lives together in some strange, invisible thread long before either of you had even been aware of it.

The entire day she watched and observed you. She paid extra attention to every detail of your expressions, body language, and posture. She didn't know why but you seemed to be very clear–in her case, in distress, like you were panicking over something. And she didn't know why she somehow hated seeing you that way. As the minutes passed, she found herself simply just staring at you. Not even for a fleeting moment had she taken her gaze of you. She watched and observed tensely at every person who looks at you, who talks to you, who breathes near you. Almost as if she was guarding you. As they were told to gather she followed silently after the crowd and placed herself purposely in front of the other side from you. She scoffs in amusement as you barely notice her, too focused on your own little world. As minutes continued to pass, suddenly a girl broke you out of her thoughts with her voice making you flinch. Her breath hitched as irritation started to crawl their way through her chest. Why couldn't the girl be more gentle with you? Can't she see that you were clearly stressed? She frowns slightly at the girl, surprising herself by the sudden change of mood. She holds her breath and watches you like a hawk would at its prey. Her vision was filled with your now loosen frame, giggling with the girl who approached you earlier. A new feeling started to claw its way through her chest, now bigger and stronger. The green monster eating her up when suddenly the call of her voice brought her out of her thoughts as she, for a moment took her eyes off of you to answer quietly to her name and as she bring back her gaze to you, quickly to not miss anything she might take the pleasure in seeing, suddenly your eyes are on her too. Her eyes couldn't leave the sight of your gaze who held such horror in them, as if seeing her was too much for you. As she was your living nightmare sitting right in front of you.

The remaining time the dancers practiced, you avoided her gaze and her presence. The more you avoided her, the more she itched to be in your presence alone, to be near you. The whole time at the practice she was, for the first time, distracted. Her thoughts are consumed by you. Her thoughts came up with every question she could ask about her and your current situation. What were you doing here? Why didn't she know? Were you at the manor? No, if you were she would've known.. Right? Okay if you weren't, then why weren't you? Those questions alone made her uneasy and frustrated. As it was time to go home, she watched as you hurriedly got out and quickly went home to wherever your home was. The nagging feeling screamed at her to follow you but decided against it and thought that going home and bringing the news to her family might help more. After all, they were stronger together.

She stormed into the manor, urgency in her every step, and sought out Alfred with a single, breathless demand: "Boys. Where?" Without hesitation, he led her to them. Her gaze fell upon them, intense and unyielding, her pupils trembling with an unspoken storm. She whispered a single name, a breathless, haunting utterance: "Y/N." The boys, in unison, responded, "We know."

A deep breath escaped her, the weight of their actions—venturing after you without so much as a word—forgotten for the moment. She snatched a laptop, her fingers flying over the keys in a frantic dance of their own. The screen flickered to life, revealing a video that stole the breath from the room. There you were, dancing—each movement a testament to grace, each step more captivating than the last.

The world had already fallen under your spell. The internet buzzed with adoration, praising the way your every turn, every leap, every pause held the audience in thrall. Under the stage lights, you seemed more than human—a celestial being, your form bathed in soft light, glowing like an ethereal angel, kissed by the very air around you. The boys stood frozen, their gaze fixed upon you, entranced.

Your presence was no illusion. You were a goddess of their own making, and in that moment, they knew: they were already devoted, bound by the silent understanding that they would worship you, body and soul.

As the video played, the room fell into a hushed reverence. The boys, once brimming with urgency and tension, now stood motionless, their eyes locked onto the screen, as if spellbound. Every fluid movement you made seemed to breathe life into the very air around them. They couldn’t look away; they didn’t want to. Your every step, every pirouette, was poetry in motion, a delicate balance of strength and grace that made their hearts race.

The way you arched your back mid-spin, the soft brush of your fingertips against your skin, the quiet breath you took before every leap—it all drew them in, slowly, methodically, as though they were witnessing something far beyond the ordinary. Each turn of your body mirrored the very rhythm of their own hearts, synchronized with the ethereal pulse of the music, and they couldn’t help but feel as if the entire world had narrowed down to this one sacred moment.

Your eyes, though focused on the stage, seemed to flicker with a spark of something far deeper, something they couldn't quite place but could almost taste. It was like watching a dream unfold, where every movement became a metaphor—each glide across the stage spoke to something eternal, something untouchable. They found themselves lost in the elegance of your form, the way your body seemed to move with a natural fluidity that defied the laws of physics.

The lights above you softened, caressing your silhouette, painting you in a divine glow. And in that moment, they felt small, insignificant even, as if you had been carved out of stardust itself, too perfect to comprehend, yet impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the skill of your dance—it was your presence, your essence that held them captive.

They felt an almost primal pull, as though your every movement was speaking directly to their souls. The way your body spoke without words—your elegance and power blending seamlessly—rendered them speechless. They were entranced by the aura you carried, intoxicated by your beauty and the mystery you exuded, a beauty that wasn’t merely skin-deep but radiated from within, a force of nature.

For a fleeting moment, they could almost believe that you were more than human, that you were something higher, something divine. They stood there, wide-eyed and breathless, as if they had been granted a glimpse of something sacred—something that no one else could understand. And in that moment, they knew that they would follow you, worship you, in a devotion that transcended mere admiration. You weren’t just captivating; you were everything. They couldn't believe that someone like you had been overlooked by then.

Bruce now understands that with no plan in mind he would still follow you till the end of the earth. Oh his little baby. He would do anything to earn your love and affection for him. To see you and to bask under the ray of sunshine your smile brings. To feel your presence alone.

Dick now understands that he owes you more than a few dinners or dates as siblings. No. He owes you the world. As guilt eats his flesh up one by one, mourning all the versions of you that he could have witnessed right before his eyes are now long gone. But that's okay, he'll make it up to you.

Tim now understands that you were surely his angel. His savior. His form of salvation. He could watch you all day and never get bored. He could listen to you all day until his ears bled but never say a word.

Damian now understands that the disbelief he felt when looking at your paintings full of emotions overflowing with a sense of overwhelming feel, was now long gone because he knew that only such being like you, almost like a supernatural being, could be the only one who has the ability to capture such deep emotions in one painting, to be able to create such beautiful, breathtaking object.

Cassandra now understands why she felt like she somehow had a connection to you and that was because she was your sister. And as she was a daughter to batman by choice, that she will also be a sister by choice to you. She was an observer, someone who guards-and she will guard you with her life for all eternity.

As the overwhelming tension fills the room Alfred stands at the corner with a small smile. “apologies master y/n had I done this sooner, you would have not slipped through my grasp dear child. Do not fret for your family is coming to get you.”

Ah, Alfred, the mastermind. He knew this would happen. He just needed to intertwine a little. He did not worry because he knew. He knew that leaving your bedroom door open the moment he knew Dick was coming over to the manor while the others were busy, and knowing Dick's tendency to wander off in the vast expanse of Wayne Manor, the chances of him finding your room were high. He knew that rearranging your trophies inside your room (which you had told him to get rid of) would pique the interest of your family even more. He knew that decorating your hidden paintings around the minimalist and empty walls of the house would catch the attention of the youngest Wayne. He knew that playing those soft melodies of your voice through the small TV in the kitchen would enchant a certain sleep-deprived boy, making him miss the sweet sound of your voice.

Alfred knew that when Cassandra was called for the big ballet play, you would be at the same play too, as you had told him over the phone, giggling and excited with a high-pitched voice. He didn't bother to tell you about your sister's similar invitation, nor did he inform your sister about yours. He knew every single detail, every thread that needed to be woven together to create this intricate tapestry of reconnection.

Alfred's wisdom was like a silent symphony, orchestrating events with a delicate touch. He understood the nuances of each family member, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their desires. He knew that Dick's curiosity would lead him to your room, where the trophies would spark memories and questions. He knew that Damian's keen eye for detail would be drawn to the vibrant paintings, each brushstroke a testament to your hidden talents. He knew that Tim, in his sleep-deprived state, would be captivated by the melodies of your voice, a soothing balm to his restless mind.

Alfred's heart ached with the knowledge of your absence, but he also held hope. Hope that these carefully placed breadcrumbs would lead your family back to you, to the realization of what they had lost and the determination to make amends. He knew that the path to reconciliation was not an easy one, but it was a journey worth taking.

As the days passed, Alfred watched with a knowing smile as the pieces began to fall into place. He saw the flicker of recognition in Dick's eyes, the softening of Damian's demeanor, and the spark of determination in Tim's gaze. He knew that the seeds he had planted were beginning to grow, and soon, the family would be whole again.

Alfred was getting old and he couldn't bare the vision of his children Bruce and you, drifting away from each other, and you from him. Maybe it was his own selfish reason but he couldn't help it. He raised you from the moment you got to the manor. Teached you everything he knew and gave you all the love he could. He watched you grew up and maybe it was a moment of rush that he allowed himself to be selfish and turn the tables around.

In the quiet moments, Alfred allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought of you, the child who had brought so much light into his life. He knew that you deserved to be seen, to be cherished, and to be loved. And he would do everything in his power to ensure that you found your way back to the family that needed you just as much as you needed them.

Authors note: I'm sorry I took so long in writing this! I hope yall enjoy the 10k+ words I wrote. One tip tho is to read and observe the details very carefully! Dw I'm gonna explain it soon tho. Hope yall enjoy this cuz imma take a break after this.

[spiderfunkz]

CARE

pairings. cho hyun-ju x gn!reader

cw. eating disorder recovery, mentions of having a low self-esteem, hurt to comfort, established relationship.

author's note: i hope i did justice to this request and please let me know if i missed any warnings. my requests for hyun-ju are open, feel free to send me an ask!

the lamp lit low, the only other light shining in the room was the tv. you were huddled under thick blankets in the comfort of your sofa, hyun-ju should be home any minute. you love welcoming her home with a warm hug and kiss, however today, you feel incredibly tired.

your eyes began to flutter shut, the scene in the background slowly started to sound like gibberish. though, you were awakened by one voice that you recognize way too well.

hyun-ju pressed a kiss on your forehead, her coat still hanging off her shoulders. "did i wake you up? sorry," her hand caressed your cheek, it was cold and it shook you awake. "i was waiting for you," you shook your head.

the kitchen was neatly tidied. something you've always gotten used to. however, the fridge was fully stocked with different kinds of vegetables, fruits, dairy, and etcetera. there were many types of boxes stored up— filled with balanced meals and lunches. notes written by hyun-ju were stuck on them. though, you still feel uneasy whenever it gets brought up.

you couldn't go back into that loop.

hyun-ju got ready for the night. you stayed in your original position, continuing the show that was playing in front of you. you didn't notice or hear much of the commotion near you, hyun-ju is careful anyways, she wouldn't let the home burn or whatever.

you specifically didn't notice the microwave beep until hyun-ju sat next to you, the smell caught your breath quickly. "i cooked and prepped this last night, it's still good, don't worry, i took a bite to make sure," her voice is so calm. she could sense your hesitation, "it's safe. come on, small bites."

you took her word, she was reassuring. it was nice to know. "that's it. that's a good bite, good job."

she made sure you fueled your body properly. it's not as terrifying anymore, hyun-ju's always there to help you throughout.

she feeds you the last few spoonfuls, making sure you got every last bit. "what show are you watching, hun?" it's never pressuring whenever you're with her, hyun-ju knows how to make things more at ease and pleasant for you. your health matters as much as hers, it's relieving to have someone so caring. it's easier for you to think clearly now, your head is no longer as blurry or spiraling. you're thankful for hyun-ju, she's just as thankful for you.

"that one drama you mentioned. the one with zombies?" you answered, "oh, is it nice? i heard a season two is coming out soon," her hand holds the spoon patiently. "yeah, well turns out they've been saying that for a while, so i guess not." you shrug.

without even realizing, you finished the whole meal. hyun-ju whispers soft affirmations in your ear, she makes sure you know how proud she is of you.

[hirayalore]

Can I please request Sirius with a single mama who happens to be a muggle? He would be such a good daddy 😭😭😭

[ sirius black x muggle!reader | fluff | in an alternate universe wherein there was no wizarding war | 3.1k words ]

note. well this got way longer than intended and yet for some reason still doesn’t feel enough??? anyways halfway through writing this i realized that jily is supposed to be 18 when they got married so for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that they’re in their late 20s hehehe,, hope you’ll like this one! 🫶🏻

Sirius got to meet you through Lily.

The meeting was unexpected, really. It was during the time James and Lily were preparing for the wedding, and Sirius, being the designated best man and all, was tasked to deliver some important items for the ceremony from the Evans home to the Potters. 

He knocked on the front door, clad in his usual attire of faded jeans, black shirt, with a leather jacket worn around his shoulders. His motorbike was still running in the driveway, an indication that he wasn’t planning to stay long, but as soon as you opened the door and locked gazes with him, Sirius suddenly thought that perhaps it would be okay to hang around even for a few minutes or so.

He flashed a smile, a smile he knew turned up the charm and made his handsomeness look a bit devilish, and stepped a bit closer, his hands placing themselves on the front pockets of his pants. “I didn’t get the wrong address, did I?” he asked. “Although if I did, I don’t think I should be in the position to complain.” His smile transformed into an easy smirk.

You stared at him, analyzing him, taking in the sight of his dark tousled hair and the manner in which his piercing eyes looked back at you, before opening the door a bit wider. “I take it that you’re Sirius Black?”

“The very one. And you are?”

“____ ____,” you said your full name, extending a hand out for a handshake but when Sirius took it, he didn’t do what you were expecting him to do.

Instead, he brought it closer to his mouth, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he replied smoothly, prompting your face to feel a bit hot.

As you were about to utter a response, Lily came behind you and saw what was happening. She rolled her eyes and playfully shoved Sirius’ shoulder, causing him to drop your hand. 

“What?” he asked, mock innocence on his features but he was already laughing.

“Don’t even think about it, Black,” she warned, though she too was chuckling. She then handed him the things he came for without delay. “____ is off limits.”

“Why? Is she taken?” he asked, glancing at you as if waiting for you to confirm it yourself.

“No,” Lily answered before you could (again), “but she’s my best friend.”

“And? I’m your fiancé’s best mate. Wouldn’t that technically make us meant to be?” He smirked, eyes flickering to you once more. “Don’t you agree, love? I reckon you’re the maid of honor too—my perfect match as the best man.”

You laughed, a soft melodic sound that he got momentarily mesmerized by. “Well, I see Lily was right about what she told me about you. You do seem like a menace.”

“But charming and handsome nonetheless?”

“Sirius,” Lily walked out of the threshold and began gently pushing him to the direction where the motorbike was parked, “go before I hex you,” she said. “Or worse, uninvite you to the wedding.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” He relented, waving a hand before heading to the vehicle and placing the fetched items in the compartment. 

Before he revved the engine, preparing to leave, he gave you one last look which consisted of a rather heart-fluttering grin and a very flirtatious wink.

Lily turned to you as he sped off, already reading what was on your mind. “No,” she said, her tone final.

You laughed. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” She scoffed with a teasing smile, marching back inside the house and leaving you there, still staring at where Sirius rode away.

****

The next time Sirius got to see you, it was at the wedding itself.

It was a small ceremony. James’ parents were there, all happy and excited for this new chapter of their son’s life, and as for Lily’s family, only her parents came to attend.

Her sister, Petunia, still had an unprovoked dislike towards wizards, a feeling that apparently couldn’t be ignored even for one day in order to be part of her sole sister’s special day.

As for other attendees, aside from some friends they went to school with back at Hogwarts, there were quite a number of Muggle friends and relatives, mostly from Lily’s side. It was for that reason that the event felt… mundane, you could say, with the absence of magical decorations and whatnots—but in the best way possible, as it gave the whole affair a more intimate and solemn feel.

“Padfoot, you’re going to turn into a giraffe if you don’t stop craning your neck like that,” Remus retorted with a chuckle.

Sirius gave him a lopsided smirk, dropping the cigarette between his fingers and extinguishing it on the ground.

He was trying to search for you among the busy crowd, curious on where you might be. It wouldn’t take long before the entourage would be asked to take their positions and he would have the excuse of having your arm latched to his, the both of you ultimately walking across the aisle as the best man and maid of honor.

After a few more giraffe-like actions of trying to catch a glimpse of you, he finally saw you talking with Lily’s parents, a baby girl not more than three years old wearing an adorable dress carried in your arms. He didn’t think much of it, assumed that she was a flower girl, though he did notice a bit of similarities between your appearance and the little lady, such as the shape of your eyes and the color of your hair.

“Excuse me,” Sirius arrived just in time beside you as the Evans went off to greet a relative, “I believe that you’re my partner for the day?” he cheekily said.

His smile was directed to you at first, but it swiftly shifted to the toddler who you still had in your arms.

“This is Esther.” You introduced with a fond grin. “My lovely daughter.”

You watched as his eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“Daughter?” he repeated, though the manner in which he said it had no malice. “Well, that explains the pretty eyes.” He chuckled before doing a courteous prince-like bow to Esther. “Pleasure to be of acquaintance, Ms. Esther.”

Esther giggled, hiding behind your hair in bashfulness, though still peaked as Sirius like she was initiating a prompt peek-a-boo game.

“Where’s this cute one’s dad?” he asked next. You could tell that he was attempting to sound nonchalant about it, as if the question wasn’t being asked to check if you were single or not again despite confirming it last time. It seemed like what he wanted to confirm this time was your current relationship with the father of your child.

You shrugged. “No idea. Probably off at someone else’s bed.”

“I see.” He laughed, sounding a bit too pleased.

When you eyes met again, your lips curved upwards as his eyes twinkled.

****

For the rest of the ceremony, you and Sirius shared conversations then and there. 

You reckoned that without Lily’s focus on you, there was less chances of her reprimanding you if she saw you willingly involve yourself with the heartbreaker that is Sirius Black. You weren’t lying when you said that she had said several things about Sirius prior to your first meeting, all of which involved not letting your guard down and being seduced by his ‘bad boy charm’.

“He’s generally nice,” Lily told you. “As a friend, that is—I can’t say much as a significant other—but I do know that he made loads of girls cry and curse his name back then.”

And as Sirius made you laugh after one joke and another, you could understand why. He was the type of guy who knew what the ladies loved and used it to his advantage; the type who was aware of how good looking he was and yet acted as if he didn’t, this effortless aura surrounding him that pulled you in ever so naturally.

Whenever Esther was whisked away by a friend or any elderly couple that were enamored with the presence of a child, Sirius took it as an opportunity to level up his advances. He’d compliment you, look at you with a gaze that made you a bit weak in the knees, and spoke in a voice that was all velvety and smooth—giving you an even clearer picture that this definitely wasn’t the first time he went his way to woo a woman.

“Look at those two,” you said upon seeing Lily and James sway along the rhythm of the slow music, caught in their own world at the center of the dance floor, “I find it hilarious that he’s the lad she ended up marrying. Do you know how many times she complained about him whenever she came back from Hogwarts?”

Sirius snorted. “Well, in her defense, James was a bloody tosser. He followed her around, trying to get her to go with him for even one date.”

You hummed in agreement. “Yes, but I also heard that he was an arse, always messing with Severus.”

“Oh, you’re familiar with Snivellus?” He appeared amused for a second, daresay proud at the awful nickname—but then realization dawned unto him, and he shifted his expression to a more controlled and behaved one. “I mean, Severus, yes. Severus Snape—I didn’t know you knew him too.”

Your nose wrinkled.

Instead of answering his question, you tilted your head slightly to the side before uttering out what you have been itching to say since he began blatantly showing interest to you. “I know your reputation, Sirius,” you began, “and I’ll have you know that I have no time for funny business.”

“Great. Neither do I.”

“I have a daughter.”

“Yes, as you have introduced me to the little one earlier.”

“And does that not bother you? Or do you like knowing that you can have someone with a child wrapped around your finger?”

His features softened in an instant. “Love, I don’t know what you exactly heard from Lily, but I’ll tell you this. I won’t deny how much of a menace I’ve been when we were still studying, but it has also been a few years since we graduated. I’m not entirely the same lad as I was.”

You were skeptical. No matter how talking to him throughout the evening gave enough proof to support his case (he did prove that he was a man of substance and who knew how to lead a meaningful conversation), you were also wary of putting all your trust in him. After all, this wasn’t the first time that a man charmed you and made the implication that he was going to treat you the best, only to flee the moment you made it apparent that you needed him.

“Okay,” you said.

Sirius chuckled. “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As it’s supposed to be.” You shrugged. “It’s a free country. You can do anything you want, as they say.”

****

It has been 11 months since Sirius and you became a couple officially.

Was Lily mad?

She was furious. She scolded you nonstop for days, saying how she didn’t lack in warning you about Sirius and that you should be careful about letting men in your life, especially since the last man you let in was not only an embarrassment, but someone who had made it apparent that not everyone can stay true to their promises.

She was right, of course. You weren’t naive and you for sure were smarter this time around. There was no moment that you ever made it easy for Sirius the second he declared his intentions with you, always being transparent of your feelings and whenever he did something that you didn’t like. Your mindset was always that if he were to give up because of your ‘pickiness’ or ‘unrealistic’ demands, then it would save you the time of investing your feelings yet again to the wrong person.

But Sirius was a different breed. He was persistent. He met each ridiculous request with ease and listened to every concern you addressed to him with commendable willingness to change. Though there were still moments wherein his inherent mischievousness jumped out, when his sharp tongue rolled out at the presence of others and you saw a side of him that you didn’t particularly like—at the end, Sirius knew when to apologize and how to show you that he wasn’t all talk in saying that he was ready to change for the better for you.

As for his relationship with Esther… well, you thought that was the most compelling thing about being with Sirius, just seeing him effortlessly take on the role of her father figure without being asked to.

“Oh, Merlin, you must be the most adorable little lady in the world, darling,” Sirius cooed at Esther as he adjusted the backpack worn behind her shoulders, dressed in light denim overalls with a white shirt underneath.

She was going on a trip with your brother, along with his wife and two kids, and was going to be picked up a few minutes from now. Sirius had insisted the night prior to sleeping at your place to help you pack Esther’s things, given how the trip was going to last three days, and when you woke up this morning to prepare breakfast and some snacks she could bring, saw that Sirius had already prepared it for you.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” you mused.

“I don’t.”

“Then how—” you cut yourself off at the reminder of him being like Lily, a wizard, and the sight of the smirk plastered on his face. “Right, right. Almost forgot about that one.”

“Sirius,” you heard your daughter chime while you checked her belongings, making sure that everything was set, “will you still be here when I get back?”

Sirius smoothed her hair. “Hm, that depends, love. You know I don’t actually live here, don’t you?” He teased her.

“But you’s always sleeping here!”

“Yes, because I like spending time with your mum.” He chuckled. “And you, of course. You can’t quite sleep without me reading you your favorite storybook.”

She nodded. “Tha’s ‘cause I likes it when you read it.”

“More than you like listening to Mummy?” You jumped in the conversation, crossing your arms in fake hurt. “I’m wounded, darling.  Aren’t I supposed to be your favorite?”

Esther grinned rather sheepishly. “You’s still are, Mummy. But when Sirius reads me my storybooks, he makes the characters all come to life!”

Before you could process the implication of what she said, two loud honks from a vehicle outside announced your brother’s arrival and Sirius was quick to take advantage of the distraction, ushering you to greet your brother outside while he helped with bringing Esther’s things to the car.

Once all things were settled, you kissed Esther’s cheek goodbye, a wet smooch that she giggled to, and said your farewells to your brother, his wife, and your two nieces that you hugged tightly and gave sweet kisses to as well before you stepped back in the driveway, waving as they drove off.

You turned your heel around the second the car was far enough, looking at Sirius who was leaning casually on the door frame of the front door.

“What?” he asked, but you knew that he was already aware of what the look meant.

You reached him as you entered the small house. “Do you use magic whenever you’re reading books to Esther?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“No, absolutely not.” 

You raised an eyebrow, in which Sirius finally grinned. 

“Okay, maybe sometimes.” He yielded. “But I promise, it’s all harmless. I just make the drawings move and run around her bedroom.”

“You…” a sigh escaped your mouth at his statement, “you make the drawings move? And, and run?”

He nodded. “It’s a simple charm, really. Makes Esther all excited too. Sometimes she even requests that I make them life sized so she could play with them.”

“Is that even allowed?”

“Well, she’s a kid, so I reckon she’d blame it to her imagination if she ever does remember this in the future.” He laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh too, seeing his point yet still being in disbelief at the reality of all of this. You were never that weirded out by magic—in fact, you were amazed by the existence of it—but as someone who grew up with completely mundane stuff, you still couldn’t grasp its possibility and how casual Sirius was whenever the topic arose.

“You’re lucky she adores you, Sirius,” you told him, laughing and shaking your head. “If not, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself out of this one.”

The grin was still on his mouth as he gently hauled you closer to him. “What can I say? My charisma is universal.”

“I think I beg to differ.” 

“Oh, are you saying that it doesn’t work on you? You haven’t fallen for my irresistible allure yet?”

“And if I were to say no?”

He kissed you, slow and lingering, enough to make your head spin a bit at how his lips moved with cognizance of what you liked. When he pulled back, he flashed you a rakish smirk that had you weak in the knees.

“Then I’ll have to change that. Can’t have Esther’s gorgeous mother not fall for me, can’t we?”

“You’ll survive.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Another kiss. You grinned at how you could feel the intent behind the gesture.

“But seriously,” you pulled back momentarily to look him deeply in the eyes, “thanks for being there for Esther. I appreciate how you make her laugh and all. I can see that she likes being with you.”

He smiled in response. It was sincere and warm, a side of him that you have come to witness and love for the past months. “No need to thank me, darling. The kid isn’t hard to adore either. I’d say I’m honored to be part of her life.”

You continued to gaze at Sirius, his words making you feel fuzzy and gooey inside. You never thought you’d get to this point of yours and his relationship. You always assumed that he was going to get tired one way or another, or perhaps realize that dating a single mother was not for him, but here he was, smitten with you and treating your daughter as if she was his own.

“Fine, I’ll take it back.” You slyly pulled the collar of his shirt down so you could be the one to kiss him, Sirius smirking against you as you did. “Maybe I’m not immune to your irresistible allure after all.”

He laughed, the beat of his heart syncing with yours. 

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[flowery-mess]

healing touches

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / feeling sick / throwing up / let me know if anything else should be mentioned

Words: 1,8k

Author's note: I missed frat Noah❤️‍🩹 I have more interesting one shots for you, but I didn't want to push it when I'm not in the mood for it, so at least some fluff Noah for you

frat Noah masterlist

You and Noah don’t text on a daily basis, so when you didn’t send him any new messages for three days, he didn’t think much of it.

He got ready for another party at his fraternity’s house, dressing himself in black loose jeans and black oversized t-shirt. Before leaving his apartment he put on two silver bracelets around his right arm, his fancy watch on left hand and also new ring. Throwing black jacket over his shoulders, he checked his phone to see his uber driver will be at his place in 3 minutes, giving him time to put shoes on and leave.

Noah is not the type to drink every week, but tonight he planned on getting loose a bit. That’s why he decided to leave his black car parked in front of the main building and take an uber.

The drive to the campus where the party was held was short, but he managed to text you ‘Are you coming tonight?’ text.

He knew you didn’t come every week, but tonight he really felt like having drinks and leaving with you.

15 minutes passed by and still no reply from you. Maybe you’re getting ready with your friends or already on the way, he thought.

“Hey man!” Matt pulled Noah in their bro hug, handing him cold beer fresh from the fridge.

“Hey, where’s the rest of the guys?” Noah asked, looking around the living room. Looking for the rest of his friends, but also for you.

Matt led him outside where the rest of their friend group was hanging out. Noah took spot next to Nick, listening to the conversation so he could join them.

----------

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Clara asked you for like the 10th time today.

“Yes, I will. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.” you replied, feeling guilty for the attitude when Clara was just being nice.

For three days straight you’ve been sick. It started on Wednesday when you threw up at the school bathroom, not knowing where it came from, but you still didn’t get rid of it. Along with it came fever and weakness.

Clara and Molly were getting ready for yet another party and you secretly wished they’ll both find someone to spend the night with, so you could have the dorm for yourself and don’t feel bad about occupying the bathroom most of the night.

“We’re leaving, Ella. If you need anything just text or call and we’ll be back, okay?” Molly assured you with a kiss on your forehead. Since you became sick she got into this ‘mom mode’ which you appreciated, but also needed a break from.

When you heard the door close, you picked yourself from the bathroom floor, crossing the room as quick as you could and throwing yourself in your bed.

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

One thing about Clara is that she’s a loud person, so whenever she arrives somewhere, everyone knows it. When her and Molly arrived at the frat house, they didn’t bother to walk through the living room full of sweaty people, they went for the backyard straight away. They were scanning the people that were already hanging out there and when Clara saw group from her class she yelled at them from the other side of the big garden.

Noah knew her voice so instinctively his head turned around, but his face turned into a frown when he saw only Molly and Clara. That was weird, because you always came together.

He texted you again ‘Hey, I saw Molly and Clara, you here too?’ and put his phone away, waiting for your answer.

One hour later still with no answer from you, Noah got a bit worried. His plans of getting drunk no longer happening, but he couldn’t say the same about your two friends.

He was walking towards the group of people Molly and Clara were hanging out with, pretty visible that they already consumed enough alcohol to be at least tipsy.

“Hi Noah.” Clara was first to notice him.

“Hi,” Noah cleared his throat, not sure what to say as he didn’t think this through, “where’s Ella?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, huh?” Molly smirked at him, her eyes giving her drunken state away.

“Yes, that’s why I asked.” he didn’t like talking with Molly, feeling her disgust in every word she said to him. He turned to face Clara again, but Molly was quicker to speak up.

“She’s on a date.” came out of her mouth before she could realise what she said.

“On a date?” Noah repeated.

“Yep, with a guy that’s not you.” Molly continued to tease Noah, who didn’t know if she was serious or not. He looked at Clara hoping she would tell him the truth, but she was too drunk to stop giggling. At Molly’s joke? At his confused face? He didn’t know.

“Amazing, thanks for your help.” Noah said without any emotion in his voice, turning around and leaving. He didn’t even stop to tell the guys he’s leaving, he just left.

He started walking in the direction to your dorms, thankful for the few minute walk to get a hold of himself. He was angry, because either Molly made fun of him or you were actually on a date and broke your deal.

He sneaked into the building you three were living in and had to stop himself in front of your door to take a deep breath, calming himself down that there’s a possibility that you won’t open your door and actually be having a dinner with some guy.

He knocked on your door and waited, nothing. He knocked again, nothing. He repeated that move few more times, his knocking more and more loud each time. Then he tried to call you and he heard your phone ring inside. Did you have the guy over at your place? With that thought he made himself even angrier and started knocking like a crazy person.

Meanwhile you laid in bed, your head hurting from all the noises. First you thought someone was here for Molly or Clara, then your phone started ringing and then the knocking got louder.

It took all of your strength to get up from your bed and open the door with very annoyed “What?”

You saw Noah in all black, his face confused and phone in his hand ready to call you again.

“Hi?” he suddenly didn’t know what to say.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him without any form of greeting.

“Are you okay?” Noah noticed your tangled hair and your pale face.

“Do I look like I’m okay?” you spat back at him, wanting whatever this was to be over so you could go lay in your bed again.

“Molly said you were on a date.” he finally said, his cheeks turning a bit red as he realised how does it look.

You managed short laugh out of yourself before saying “On a date? She really doesn’t like you.”

“Well, now that I know you didn’t break our deal… are you okay? Because you look terrible.” Noah made one step towards you and put his hand on your forehead.

“I’m sick.” you whispered and closed your eyes, feeling the relief of Noah’s cold hand against your hot skin.

“Okay, I’m coming in.” Noah said and closed the door behind him. After he took his shoes off he led you to your bed.

“You don’t have to stay Noah.” you told him as he laid you down and put the blanket over your body.

“Well I’m here already, so.” he shrugged his shoulders as if taking care of sick your wasn’t any bother. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know. I have a high fever, my head hurts and I throw up.”

“Did you take any medicine?” Noah’s face looked concerned as he tucked you in, because you were shivering from the fever.

“Yes mom.” he was glad that you were joking, it was a good sign.

“I’m gonna make you some black tea that should help with the sickness, okay?” and with that he left your room to make some tea for you.

He brought some dry biscuits along with the tea, making you eat at least one and drink some tea.

“Move.” he said and stood up to take his jacket off.

“What?”

“Move a little so I can lay down too.”

“You’re not laying in my bed in your dirty jeans.”

“God.” he sighed, but took off his jeans and made you move so he could somehow lay next to you in your small bed.

“What are you doing?” was he cuddling you? Holding you? Why?

“Shut up, you’re cuddling me every night you stay at my place.” he put his arm around you so you could lay your head on his chest. You knew you did, because every morning you woke up earlier than Noah and found yourself in his arms, on his chest or him on yours.

“Maybe if Molly would see this, she’d hate you less.”

“This doesn’t make us boyfriend and girlfriend, I’m just being a helpful friend.”

“I know.”

“The sooner you get better, the sooner we can have sex.”

“You shut up now.” you smacked his chest, knowing he was joking.

He took your laptop and opened some random show on Netflix.

You couldn’t help yourself, so you asked him “Did you really think I’d break our deal?”

“No, but you didn’t reply to any of my messages for the last few days and I didn’t now if Molly was joking or not.”

“Sorry, I was busy throwing up.” Noah laughed, but you still wanted him to know that you wouldn’t betray him like that. “Don’t worry Noah, I’ll tell you when I’m interested in someone and want to stop this between us. Okay?”

“Okay.”

And with that you slowly felt your eyes closing, before fully falling asleep on Noah’s chest.

---------

When you woke up hours later, the left side of your bed was empty and Noah was nowhere to be seen.

Your laptop was back on your table and your mug was full of fresh tea. Next to it was note from Noah, it said “Drink the tea and get better so next week I don’t have to sleep in this small bed again.”

You appreciated that Molly and Clara didn’t come back, they wouldn’t stop with teasing you if they saw you and Noah cuddled in your bed.

You didn’t mind that Noah left when you were asleep, you were happy to see someone else than the girls at least for a while.

You reached for your phone, seeing it was 4 in the morning. You had few messages from Molly asking if you’re okay, then you saw Noah’s messages and clicked on them. You quickly sent him ‘thank you for stopping by' text, finishing the mug of still warm tea and falling back asleep.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

Tag list: @lacy1986 @chey-h @xmads-omensx @blade-dressed-in-red @respectfulrebel

Click here if you want to be on my taglist

[thevalkyriesshadow]

@aldbooks and @freyjas-musings

I finally finished that fic inspired by y'all

enjoy 😘

Touch

Summary: Azriel takes a bath in a moonlit pool under a gently cascading waterfall. He comes here for the quiet, healing solitude, but tonight, he gets more than he expected.

Read it under the cut or on AO3 💙

The cold waters of the moonlit waterfall cascade over my face, cold rivulets running through my hair. It washes away the dirt and grime of another day. Cleanses me physically and mentally. 

Now that the snows have melted, the sun shines just a bit brighter for a bit longer, and the soil slowly warms – I can come out here without freezing my ass completely off.

My body still reacts. My shoulders tense for a moment, I shiver, just the slightest. The water bites as it tumbles onto my skin, flowing over the smooth rocks. But as time passes I adjust to it, soaking in the natural healing properties.

This is my time to reflect. To unwind.

My marred hands scrub at my skin. Gentle at first, then harder. A stubborn blood stain on my wrist has me rubbing the spot until it's raw and the bite of the pain is almost as refreshing as the water.

There's a snap of a twig and a gasp. I turn on the spot and there, standing amongst the tall grass and the hanging willows is Gwyn.

Her eyes widened, the shining teal of them glittering in the moonlight. Her copper hair shimmers under the gentle ray of light.

She hugs her towel closer to her body, which I'm now just realizing is clad in only a thin, light blue nightgown. The bottom hem barely reaches mid thigh. Her freckled shoulders are on full display.

I've never seen Gwyn like this, casual and exposed.  

I shouldn't be looking. I should tear my eyes from hers, but…

A tinge of red blooms on her face. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes dip down to – 

Gods above.

The water reaches my upper thighs and I'm standing stark naked in it. My half-hard cock waving about just above the water's surface.

I lowered myself slowly, just enough to hide my private bits.

Gwyn watches the movement then takes a step back.

We speak at the same time.

“I'll just –”

“You can stay –” 

She smiles and I clear my throat. When she doesn't speak or move I say, “You can stay, I'll leave.”

“Oh, no, please you were here first,” she says as she takes another step back and I have this urge to ask her to stay with me.

I run my hands through my hair and she watches the movement carefully, following with her wide eyes.

Gwyn always watched me, her eyes lingering as I trained the other priestesses. I didn’t mind of course. I liked her smiles as she watched my shadows move around me. I liked the quips and jokes she made. The way she would tease and banter with me. For almost two years it was just constant watching and teasing. 

She was curious, and so was I. So why not ask her to join?

“You know,” I start. Wading closer to her, stepping out from under the torrent of water. “You could join me….if you'd like?”

Her eyes widened even more, “Join you?” 

“If you want.”

This was silly. She'd never –

Gwyn dropped her towel and fingered the straps of her nightgown. 

Oh shit. She was really going to join me.

My lips pulled into a small smirk and I turned around to give her a moment to get into the water. 

The leaves rustled. The water splashed. 

I glanced back over my wings in time to see her swallowed up by the inky black waters. The moon's reflection shimmered where she disappeared. 

I waited.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Was she okay? My shadows hover above the water. Waiting for her...

I took a step closer to where I’d seen her disappear beneath the water.

“Whatchya looking at, Shadowsinger?” 

I started and she giggled. She’d snuck up on me and I was only now realizing how close she was to me. Leaning over my wings to spook me. I tried not to get her caught up in them as I faced her, but her hair got caught on a talon…

“Oh shit, sorry. Don’t move.” I unhooked the copper strands from the talon, letting them fall from my fingers before giving her a nod and good gods above…

There was goddess beauty and then there was Gwyneth Berdara beauty. 

Truly. 

She looked like a statue of old come to life. So perfect. Carved from ethereal beauty itself. Every freckle stood out against her alabaster skin. Her lithe form looked so natural and comfortable in the water. Almost flowing along with the current, like she was made from water herself. The water had made her long hair stick to her skin. Some of it cascaded over her breasts, covering most of the supple mounds.

And that’s just from ogling her in my peripherals. 

I kept my gaze on her teal eyes that sparkled with curiosity and awe. As much as I wanted to take in every curve and plane of her warrior-honed body, I wanted to keep this as cordial as possible. 

Just two friends bathing under a waterfall in a moonlit pool.

I swallowed, “That was impressive.”

She kept her gaze on mine, her chin rising slightly. Always goading me. “Half-nymph, remember? In fact I could probably still be under the water right now and still not feel the need to come up for another five minutes or so.”

I wanted to run my thumb across her chin, count all those freckles…

Warmth spread across my chest, that spark danced in my chest. 

I couldn’t speak. Everything I wanted to say in response to her posturing was lost on my tongue. All I could do was admire her.

A blush bloomed on her cheeks, down her neck, across her chest the longer I just stood staring at her. My eyes were drawn to her lips as they quirked, holding back a smile. “Did I break the infamous Shadowsinger?”

I blinked. Gods I had just been staring at her. I shot my shadows a look. Why didn’t they snap me out of it? 

As if mocking me they started twirling around Gwyn. They slithered over her shoulders, around her arms. They played in her hair that was dripping from the trickle of the waterfall she stood under.

“Sorry…uh, I was just thinking.”

“About?” She blinked, her smile finally spreading. Meeting her eyes with that glorious spark of joy.

I was thinking about her, but I couldn’t say that . 

“How your ability to hold your breath like that would be very useful against underwater foes. We should start training for underwater combat.” Oh my gods that sounded so much smoother in my head, but instead I just rambled.

Gwyn laughed, the sound playing around the small alcove they stood in. “ That’s what you were thinking about? Truly?”

I nodded.

She narrowed her eyes at me, “Sounds like you’re just trying to fit in another private lesson with me.”

My shadows danced around my wings. I’d love to have another moment of the day where it was just her and I.

“Sounds like you’re trying to avoid it. What’s wrong? Don’t think you can handle underwater combat, Priestess ?”

She crossed her arms, and gods dammit I couldn’t stop my eyes from darting down to note the movement. Her arms covered her nipples, but her breasts pressed together - water pooled in the pocket they made as they pushed against her forearms.

I pulled my gaze back up. Heat sizzled in those pretty teal eyes, a fiery crackle that sent a pang of need right to my cock.

“I can handle underwater combat just fine. In fact, I’ll probably be better at it than you,” she said matter-of-factly. Then she took a step back and another. “Wanna find out?” Her eyebrows wiggled and she took another step back – towards a drop she wasn’t aware of.

I shot out and grabbed her around the waist as her foot met the hidden drop in the dark waters of the pool. I tugged her into my chest. Gwyn’s eyes widened as I pulled her back, a shocking gasp escaping those perfect lips..

Her hands splayed against my chest, fingertips digging into my skin. Once she was righted I pulled my arms back, wholly aware of how close I was holding her. The skin that touched. 

Gwyn didn’t pull away. Didn’t put space between us as the steady beating of my heart – that I could’ve worn rippled through the waters around us – pulsed excitedly. Another pulse echoed in the water, as if in answering. As if I could feel her heartbeat too.

The air was palpable with tension.

The waterfall tumbled around us, its roar blocking out any other sound, her palms still resting flat on my chest. Goosebumps skittered across my skin as she let out a breath. Her chest heaved and we were so close I could just feel her hair and breasts brush against me.

Our gazes met, a question burning there. 

I didn’t care what the question was. My answer was yes.

I dropped my chin in a nod, “Yes,” I whispered, giving her permission to do whatever it is she was asking to do.

Her throat worked as she swallowed. Then her left hand started sliding down my torso, brushing past my ribcage. My stomach clenched as her fingertips danced lower, pressing into my hip and stopping there. Her thumb brushed the muscular vee, electricity sparking with every pass.

Her right hand that had been resting against my chest, moved. Her fingers traced the pattern of my tattoos, following them completely. Across my pectorals, over my shoulders and collar bone then down my sternum. 

I let out a breath at the sensation and Gwyn smiled, but didn’t say anything as she continued her exploration.

She spent a lot of time tracing the grooves between the muscles of my stomach. Over and over, my muscles spasming with each pass. I was beginning to think she enjoyed watching me squirm and honestly, I was very into it.

If she explored any lower, she’d see just how much I was enjoying it.

Oh shit. You’re hard as a rock . And she’s about to unknowingly discover this. Her fingers dipped into the pool, but before she could find my throbbing cock, I grabbed her wrist. “Wait,” I said. “I’m -- uh -- .” I cleared my throat "--hard--"

She giggled, “I wondered.”

I gaped at her. Always surprising me this one. I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped my lips, the rumble of it settling low in my chest. That spark expanded, vibrating ferociously. 

As much as I wanted those beautifully long, freckled fingers around my cock. I wanted more of that delicious touch. The way she caressed every inch of me with precision. I wanted to feel that everywhere. I wanted her to be comfortable with every part of me. Not just with the way we talk and banter. Not just with the way we spar and fight side by side. I wanted her to know that she could come to me and feel safe. Home.

I guided her hand to my neck. “I want you to touch the rest of me first. Please.”

The stunningly gorgeous and incredibly adorable Priestess in front of me smirked, in the most devilish way. Heat bloomed from the base of my spine, and at the same time in my chest – that spark spread. It followed her touch everywhere she went. Moving through my veins, muscles, organs…everything down to my very soul moved with her touch. Like two voices falling into harmony with one another. 

Gwyn watched the goosebumps form across my skin everywhere her fingers touch. Along the sinewy muscle of my neck, across the dips of my shoulders, the planes of my back, along my hips…everything was on fire stoked by her touch, kindled by her curiosity. 

I balled my hands into fists, the moment too much yet not enough. Her hands were around mine in an instant, raising them up between us. Her eyes flicked between the scarred knuckles and my burning eyes. My breathing was shallow, anticipating her next move. Would she touch them? Would she drop them to the side and forget about them? 

“I’d like to touch your hands, Azriel. Is that okay?”

My chest cracked wide open. An all consuming light pouring out. “Yes,” I breathe.

She let go of my left hand, but held onto my right wrist. Holding gently, turning it in her hand. I unfurled my fingers and her touch found my skin instantly. She smoothed her hand over mine, opening until my palm was flat. Then she traced my scars. 

With painstakingly slow precision. As if she were memorizing every puckered line. 

When she finished her slow exploration of both hands, she pressed her palms to mine, chuckled to herself, then laced our fingers together.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

She shrugged, “Just thinking about how you think I’m the one who needs underwater training, when you haven’t even proven to me that you’re a worthy teacher of such combat.”

I squeeze her fingers, “Are you going to teach me , Priestess?”

Gwyn narrowed those sparkling ocean eyes, the light in my chest pulsing at her gaze, “I should. It makes the most sense.”

Our gazes locked for a long moment. Studying, exploring. Then without warning, Gwyn hooked a foot around the back of my knee and yanked me down, her grip on my hands forcing me under the water. I took one last gulp before she plunged me under. She had a quick foot on my chest in an instant. I’d be dead in minutes, especially with her weight above me like this.

Thankfully she didn’t want to kill me. Just show me up. Though my chest was maybe starting to burn. Just a tinge. And of course my fucked up ass was thrilled by it.

Her foot lifted off my chest and she was tugging me out of the water. I spluttered as I met fresh air, blinking my eyes furiously up at her. 

Her smile was radiant as she chuckled, “Alright there, Shadowsinger?”

I wiped my face and lounged back in the water, floating just beneath the surface. It wasn’t deep. Maybe about four or five feet, but it was plenty of room for my wings to just graze the floor of the pool.

“You tell me. You’re the one training to be a healer.” Another thing I was so proud of her for pursuing. “My knee kind of hurts after you expertly hooked it around my leg to disarm me. I think you should check it out.” I raised my foot above the water, my chest filling with joy at her bright smile. Her head fell back as she let out a barking laugh. It pulled her hair back, exposing her breasts fully and by the gods old and young –

They were so fucking perfect. Supple mounds that glowed in the moonlight. Her dusky nipples peaked against the cool spring air. 

Fuck. My chest was pounding with emotions. With an intense feeling that I couldn’t place. It grew and grew with her smiles. Her laughter. The way we talked. Her body. Her Mother blessed existence.

Gwyn dove into the water, her chest gliding along the surface as she executed a perfect breaststroke until she was wading next to me. She was so at ease. So calm as she took my leg in her hand, examining it with an exaggerated studying gaze.

Then she looked at me with those wide, stunning eyes – the teal of them swimming with mirth as she said, “I’m happy to report that your leg will be just fine, Shadowsinger. Not a scratch on it.” She lowered my leg back into the pool, her breathy laughter tittering away. My shadows were having the time of their lives. Dashing in and out of her movements. Dancing with every sound that fell from her lips.

We waded further behind the waterfall where it was quieter. I could hear her breaths, the tinkling of the water as she moved about. I watched her twirl and wash at her skin, humming a gentle tune.

I must’ve looked ridiculous. Floating in the water staring at her with awe. But…how could I not? Just look at her. 

I recalled the first day of training. How she kept her distance, but stared at me from across the training ring.

And now?

Now she was shamelessly standing five feet away from me in the waist deep water. Washing her hair back under the waterfall. Breasts peaked up to the sky.

I wondered if she would let me touch her? If I could explore her body too…

I joined her under the waterfall. Rinsing my hair under the waters. She smiled and her gaze landed on my wings as I shook them against the water free falling behind me.

“So…did something happen to your shower back at The House that you had to come all the way out here?” She asks. Her head tilts as her eyes gleam with amusement. Her perfect, pink lips curl on one side.

I huff a laugh, “Did something happen to yours?”

Her grin widens, “No. I was feeling… adventurous.” She tugs at her hair and it takes all my willpower not to glance down at her exposed breasts. 

By The Mother she was being bold tonight.

“Is that so?” I ask, taking a step towards her. The moonlight makes her skin glow, her freckles like molten stars in the darkness.

Fuck. Gwyn is… beautiful.  

She nods and gives a cheery hum in confirmation. “Checking off another thing on my must-do list.”

I raise a brow, “Must-do list?”

“Yeah – it’s a list of things I must do now that I’m –” She pauses, searching for the right word.

“A Valkyrie?”

She purses her lips, “Hm, no –”

“A Carynthian –”

“No –”

“Older?” She had a birthday at the beginning of the year. One where I watched her get drunk off faerie wine and giggle uncontrollably all night.

She gave me a small push, her fingers digging into the muscled skin on my chest. “No! Would you let me finish!” I chuckled and swept my arms out, giving her the floor. My shadows swirled excitedly around her, settling on her shoulders.

She watched them and gave them one of those breathy giggles that made my lips form a dim witted smile before she looked back at me. They sparkled as they met mine, a certain gleam of trustworthiness in them. “It’s a list of things I want to do now that I’m not living in The Library anymore.”

“Ah – “

There’s a moment of pause between us. Not weird or awkward, just a moment where we’re both considering what that means. I know she worked hard to overcome many obstacles. I was proud of her for it. For facing the mountain -- the physical, emotional, and spiritual ones. For facing her fears and worries and doubts.

I supported her then and I’d support her now. 

“So number one on your list was bathe in a waterfall?”

She shrugs, “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“The item was more about swimming naked in a body of water, but this counts…right?” She glances around the dark pool then looks back to me.

“Sure. I mean, just do a lap to the edge of the pool and back and voila, item crossed off. Officially.”

Gwyn gives me a smirk. A smirk I know all too well. It’s one of those shit eating grins she gives before she says –

“I bet I can beat you.”

I return the sly smile. “Name your price, Berdara.”

She crosses her arms and raises her chin at me. “If I win, you have to help me cross off another item on my list.”

“And that would be…?”

“A secret," the words are final. "Your terms?”

I narrow my eyes at her and say, “Fine. If I win – you have to help me cross off one of my own personal list items.”

“ You have a list?”

“Absolutely I do.”

She regards me with curiosity then holds out a hand, “Deal.” We shake, my shadows shiver with excitement, and then we’re getting in position and my heart pounds in my chest. I have one item on my list that this exact moment in time sets everything up perfectly for. Though, with the way she held her breath underwater, I don’t think I’ll win, but…

“On my mark,” Gwyn says. I ready myself, listening to her countdown “….three…two…one… go!”

I dive into the water, her splash echoing mine. I’m vaguely aware of her presence in the water next to me, but I’m focused on my destination and the end goal to pay attention to where in the water she is.

I touch the dirt slope on the opposite of the pool and turn around in the water. My wings definitely make traveling in water difficult, but I pull them in closer and push harder.

When I resurface on the other side, I’m met by muscle carved thighs and a soaked Gwyn, smiling devilishly down at me.

“Looks like I won, Shadowsinger. Guess the item on your list is going to have to wait.”

I smooth my hair out of my face and wipe the water from my face. “As if there were any chance in hell I’d win against a water-nymph.” She grins broadly. “Alright then, Berdara. What item do you need help with?”

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, blushing suddenly. Her boasting demeanor turned shy. Gwyn takes another step closer to me and she takes one of my hands in hers. Her thumb brushes against mine, sending shivers up my arm.

“You can absolutely say no, but…” She glances down at our joined hands, then looks up. Her gaze falls to my lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Words escape me as I process her words. Gwyneth Berdara wants to kiss me?

“Does your list item specifically say ‘Kiss the spay master of the Night Court’?” I almost don’t believe her request.

She blushes deeper, “If you must know it says kiss the Shadowsinger, but –”

“Yes,” My answer leaves my lips before I can stop it. Gwyn sucks a breath in, her eyes widening as if she doesn’t believe my answer. But then she’s raising up on her toes. Her grip on my hand tightens and she’s inching closer and closer –

She lets out a high-pitched squeak as her foot slips on the mossy stones beneath us and she falls into me, our mouths crashing together.

It’s messy and a little painful as her nose clashes with mine, and she maybe scrambles trying to salvage the moment. And since I was asked to help her check off another item, it’s exactly what I do.

My hands go to her waist and I pull her against me. Steadying her. For a moment our mouths only hover a hair's breadth away. Our smiles and breathy laughs are smothered a moment later as she finds her balance and presses her lips to mine.

Gwyn is tentative and stiff. Like she’s unsure how far to take it. So I let her know by softening my lips, parting them so my breath skitters over her mouth. Her body softens in my hands, her lips following.

Then her mouth is moving against mine and gods.

I don’t know if she’s ever kissed anyone before. By the way she presses and adjusts her lips against mine, I don’t think she has, but I don’t fucking care. 

Because every moment of it. From the way her lips explored mine. Kissing my top lip. Then my bottom. The way she tilts her head one way then the other. Every moment has my pulse racing. My body trembling.

I’m only vaguely aware of the curves of her body against the planes of mine. The way her hands have found their way around my neck and are nervously tangling themselves in my hair. Every nerve in my body is flooded with the feeling of her lips on mine. 

I move with her. My mouth opening and closing with hers. I let her control every movement. The speed. The pressure – and when her tongue darts out curiously, I let her in. 

She’s gentle and unsure but I don’t care. 

Gwyn could kiss me with the same clumsy inexperience every time and I’d welcome it. I let myself hope that maybe this wouldn’t be my first kiss with her. Maybe she’d want to do this with me all the time. Maybe this could be the flood gates that open to a whole new possibility. For both of us.

Something in my chest pulses at the idea just as the warmth of her mouth leaves mine and I let out a shaky breath.

Gwyn’s face and neck are flushed, her eyes darting between mine. Then she smiles and giggles, “Oh gods that was awful wasn’t it?” Her nose scrunches, her freckles crinkling with the movement.

I’m still trying to catch my breath and then she sends me that smile with her addictive laughter and I can’t help myself. She gasps as I lean in and our lips brush as I whisper, “By how much I want to do it again, I’d say it was far from awful.” Messy and unpractised? Sure. Awful? Never.

“Do you want to know what my item was that I wanted to enlist in your help with?”

Her nails scratch my scalp as her hips press into mine and if she’s aware of my hard cock pressing against her thigh she doesn’t say anything. “Yes,” she breathes.

I swallow the nerves that are suddenly fluttering around in my stomach, rising to my chest where they flit around that spark that grows brighter. “It was to kiss someone under a waterfall.”

She smiles against my lips and says, “No it was not.”  

I can’t stop the smile that blooms across my mouth, “Really.”

She hums then says, “Well…that kiss was for my list so…”

“But I didn’t win.”

“I mean if you don’t want to then fine,” she shoots back playfully.

My heart is pounding and all I can hear is the roar of my blood in my ears. “Gwyn? Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” She says it without hesitation and this time I take over.

It’s soft and gentle, exploring her like she explored me. Her lips are so fucking soft and full. I can’t get enough. I deepen the kiss and she moans , her lips parting. I run my tongue along the seam of her lips and through the kiss she hums enthusiastically, opening wider for me and I plunge in. Showing her exactly what to do with your tongue inside someone’s mouth.

I keep my hands firmly on her hips despite the way they itch to feel her all over. What would her kisses be like when I have my hands twisted in her hair? Or when I’m groping her ass and thighs? What about when my fingers are caressing the freckles scattered across her back? Will she shiver and moan uncontrollably? Will she whine or hum?

I’m lost in her instantly. My first taste of Gwyneth Berdara and I’m a fucking goner. I’m ready to kneel for this woman until the end of time. Until our existences cease to end and we’re nothing but stardust floating through endless time and space together.

When we separate, it’s to the sounds of both of us panting, our shaking breaths mixing together in the small space between our hovering mouths.

“Does that satisfy your must-do item?” I ask her.

She answers breathlessly, “Yes. And yours?” I nod. Unable to speak. “Good,” her voice has a silky tone to it, huskier. She grins wildly and asks, “Wanna do it again?”

I chuckle. The boldness of this female…

“Absolutely I do.”

Her body curls into mine, my arms wrap around her, hugging her tightly to me as our lips meet for a third time.

I wondered if Gwyn would want to add waterfall showers to our midnight rendezvous...

I store that question away for later and focus solely on the moment, committing every touch, taste, and sound of kissing Gwyneth Berdara to memory.

[ladylooch]

Bones - Part 15 [Mack x David]

A/N: I have said this so many times, you are all probably sick of hearing it BUT THIS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER!!!! This was the first chapter I wrote for their series and it has stayed mostly the same since I originally wrote it in May 2024. Considering that, I think I've been patient long enough! I can't wait any longer so it's going up a few days earlier than I said. Please, please, please come talk to me about this one 😭 I want to know every single thought that comes across your beautiful brains as you read this. Literally on my knees and begging. Okay, okay, go.. now.. run please! Read! Enjoy 🥹

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Vivid descriptions of child birth, birth trauma (nobody dies, promise!), mentions of bodily fluids including blood.

July

“It’s David. Leave a-”

Mack clicks off the phone as she gets her husband’s voicemail again. She pouts her lips out, looking out the window at where she can see Felix and two other farm hands in the barn. 

Maybe he knows where her husband is. 

Normally, Mack doesn’t worry about where David is at lunch time because he comes home, or she drives out to meet him in the field. Today, neither of those things happened and Mack ended up eating lunch without him. The unusual behavior makes her want to get eyes on her husband to make sure he is okay. 

The closer Mack gets to giving birth to their son, the quieter David has become. Mack knows it’s not about second guessing their choices or any of that. But it is another moment in his life he is navigating through without his parents. She gets to talk to her parents about what this was like for them- creating life, those last few weeks before everything changed, the delivery room. He doesn’t have that and as such, Mack treats those conversations as a luxury.

Mack kicks off her house shoes, then slides into a pair of sneakers. Her belly is so big now, she has to lean slightly to the side to make sure her foot is going into the shoe. The second Mack opens the door and feels the Iowa humidity, she groans. What was she thinking being this pregnant in the summer? Oh yeah, that her husband would be home for the birth. Crazy of her though, to think that being 39 weeks pregnant in the middle of July would be fun. 

She never wants to do a summer baby again. She would do another baby, but not in the summer. Bring on the winter coolness that would help alleviate the furnace of a baby inside of her. Clearly, this one is going to run hot like his daddy.

Mack braces a hand on her back, then grabs the railing to walk the three steps down the porch. Her tired feet scuff along the dirt as she flips her sunglasses down over her eyes, heading towards Felix. When she gets close to the barn, a tickle sticks in her throat as the wind whips up some dry dirt from the road.

“Hi Felix.” Mack murmurs as she pauses at the entrance of the barn. He is working with another farm hand in replacing a section of rotting wood in the far corner.

“Oh! Mrs. Mackenzie, there’s a lot of dust. Stay out there. I’ll come out to you.” Mack can see the dust flying around and wisely stops her forward progress. She stays in the opening of the barn, edging her way back out slightly. “Hi.” He says breathlessly as he comes out to her. “How can I help?”

“Do you know where David is? I’ve been calling to see if he is coming up for lunch but he isn’t answering.” 

“Oh, uh, he’s right there.” He points behind her. Mack turns around, shielding her eyes over her sunglasses. On his knees in black dirt, is her husband, shaping and working in his mom’s rose garden. She didn’t see him with the angle she took out of the house. 

“Ah… wow, I didn’t see him. So sorry for bothering you!” Mack apologizes with a grimace.

“No worries. He should have answered your calls.” Felix gives her a shrug. Mack supposes that is true. But it is not like David to ignore her, especially 39 weeks pregnant.

She walks over to him, hands crossed over her chest as her shoes kick up dust around her feet. The wind is blowing hard today. A storm is set to sweep into the area tonight, bringing with it some cooler, less humid weather. Music to this pregnant woman’s ears. 

“Hey.” Mack calls to David as she gets to the edge of the garden. 

He is shirtless, tanned skin pulling tight over this muscular back, chest, and arms. He has work gloves on his hands, protecting them from the black soil he is working with. Specks of black dot his forearms up to his elbows. The distinct white of his AirPods against his slightly curled black hair tells Mack he is deep in another world right now. She walks around the garden towards the house, getting in his line of vision. He glances up, then immediately sits back on his heels seeing her. Mack’s heart skips a beat, taking in his sexy, sweaty form looking at her like she’s his next meal. 

“Hi honey.” He says, tilting the brim of his ball cap up and wiping at his forehead with his dirty forearm. Dirt smears across his skin. She smiles as he pops an AirPod out. He looks so good right now- her hard working man, grinning at seeing her hand as she strokes her bump. “You okay?”

“I am now.” She murmurs back.

“Now?”

“I’ve been calling you?”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. Had my notifications off cause I am listening to a pepper podcast. Tryna figure out what the fuck I’m doing wrong with the bell peppers this year. They’ve all got bottom rot out there.” The peppers were for their family use, not the farms, but David takes anything that doesn’t grow perfectly personally. “What’s up?”

“You thinking about lunch anytime soon? It’s after 1.”

“Ah… I’m not that hungry.” Mack bites her lip with worry at his response. David is always hungry. He also was supposed to be out checking fence this morning, but here he is knee deep in his mama’s garden again.

“Okay.”

“Sorry, honey. Were you waiting for me?”

“No. We can’t.” She laughs, tapping her big belly. “Your son wouldn’t allow it.” 

“Our growing boy.” David smiles. He looks down at the garden. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, babe.” She says. “Will be nice to look out at this from the baby’s room.”

“Yeah.” He nods, hands on his thighs as he scans the various colors of rose bushes.

The bedroom in question is the smallest in the house, normally an office, but the closest to the master bedroom, which is on the main level. The house layout is a little discombobulated, but David wants to keep the integrity of the farm house. He isn’t ready to change what it was like for him growing up here. The only work he has done in the house is re-doing the flooring on the main level, put a new coat of paint on, and renovated the shower into a mini spa for himself after a long day of work in the fields. 

“Mama would love it. Good growth this year. I’ve been working on splitting up a few of these big ones. Thought maybe I could plant them by her and dad.” 

“That would be really nice.” Mack nods. “I’m sure your mom would love that. Your dad would allow it.” She smirks. She never got to meet David’s parents, but she knows enough about them to feel confident saying so.

“If mama was happy, he was happy.” David smiles. “Sound familiar?”

“Mhm.” She grins at him. “Come give me a kiss. I’m going back in. My boobs are melting off right now from this heat.”

“Can’t have that.” He murmurs, pulling his gloves off. “I’m filthy.” He warns her.

“I’m well aware of how dirty you are, sir.” She winds her arms around his sweaty body, pulling him down to her height. He smirks against her mouth, making his mustache tickle her nose. She squeaks, pulling away to rub the tickles away from her nostrils. “That thing is out of control. You need to trim it.”

“Not what you were saying this morning.” He jokes. “Ohhhh baby, don’t stop.” His words hiss through gritted teeth like hers were, then he attempts to nip at her neck. 

“Shush!” She slaps his bare stomach, looking over her shoulder towards the barn. “You’re such a dick.” He laughs loudly, pulling away from her. 

“Then you must like me.” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Put some more sunscreen on.” Mack calls back to him, slowly meandering her way back towards the porch. She carefully steps up the porch, hand braced on her back and the railing as she does so. She glances over to her husband who watches her with careful, green eyes, then waves one more time before getting his knees back in the black dirt.

- - - & - - -

While the Iowa weather thunders and soaks outside, Mack tries to get comfortable in David’s embrace. She shifts every which way, grabs extra pillows to stuff between her legs, but nothing seems to work. It’s been like this especially since dinner when the storm clouds started to roll in.

“Ugh. This baby is so damn low.” Mack snaps. “It feels like I can’t even close my legs anymore. I might need to put a mirror down there to make sure he isn’t actually coming out.” She throws the pillow she was trying to wedge between her legs across the room in frustration.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing.” She grumbles. David brings a hand to her thigh, rubbing up and down in reassurance.

“You’re amazing, hon. I’m sorry things are tough right now. I love you.” Mack mumbles a thank you. She deeply appreciates that David has sympathy for what her body is going through, and that he regularly tells her how in awe he is of her, but tonight she is grumpy. She doesn’t want him to make anything better. She wants this damn baby out.

Mack only lasts five more minutes of her sour mood and uncomfortably shifting positions. With a final sigh, she wiggles her way to the edge of the couch to stand. David stands too, giving her his hands to help her get up with a limited struggle.

“I’m going to bed.” She tells him. His lips twist into a disappointed frown, but he nods without much fuss. A loud clap of thunder makes Mack jolt in surprise. “Holy mother of…” She trails off in Swiss German. Her heartbeat sprints in her chest as David chuckles then gives her a kiss.

“Well, you’re at least going to lay in bed.”

“Yeah. I guess.” She shakes her head, moving towards the kitchen to fill up her water bottle.

“Goodnight, baby. I’ll be in soon.”

“You don’t have to go to bed because I am.”

“I know. I want to.” He says simply. “Wanna hold you if you’ll let me.” 

Mack smirks in the kitchen, twisting on the top of her water cup before padding through the living room. On her way behind the couch, she drops a kiss on David’s head. She cups his face, gently tilting it back towards her to smooch his lips, stroking his jaw sweetly before continuing on to bed. 

“I love you.” She murmurs over her shoulder.

“Love you, hon.” He calls back.

Mack goes through her night time routine of washing her face, putting on lotions and creams as well as ten minutes of meditation through her Calm app to try and get centered into a less frustrated state. She reminds herself how grateful she is to be pregnant and have the opportunity to bring life into the world. Being pregnant in conjunction with Savannah has encouraged Mack to be appreciative for how easy her and David’s journey has been. Savannah and her have become close, sharing in so many experiences together.

Mack works on a pair of compression shorts and a t-shirt of David’s that allows for her boobs to breathe. She pulls the covers back on their bed, then slides into the cool sheets. She savors the temperature with a little shiver, but knows this feeling won’t last long. She grabs her phone, texting David to turn down the air conditioner before he comes to bed. Even with the storm blowing through, the humidity lingers more than she would like. 

Mack is scrolling through Instagram when David comes into the bedroom. He heads to the closet where Mack observes him pulling back on his work jeans and a clean Carhartt grey t-shirt. He grabs another pair of boot socks, which clues Mack in that he is heading back outside.

“Something wrong?”

“Yeah. I gotta head out to help Bob. A fence blew open and his cattle are scattered along the southern edge of our property and into the road. Gotta round ‘em up.” He flips the light off in the closet. “Just gonna help til his hands are able to get over there.” He puts a warn, Coors hat on his dark locks after pushing his hair off his forehead. “Won’t be long.” He comes to her side of the bed. He puts a hand on her bump, then at the back of her neck, stroking fire across her lips when they touch. 

“Be careful out there.” She tells him. 

“It’s done storming. Well East of us at this point.”

“Yeah, but still be careful.” He smiles, kissing her again.

“Always so worried.” He chuckles, kissing down her chin and chest to her bump. He presses his nose in, green eyes closing as Mack places a hand on the back of his head to cradle it.

“Yeah, cause I don’t want to raise this baby alone.” 

“I’ll never let that happen. Promise, mama.” He murmurs against her belly. “Be good.” If he is talking to the baby or Mack, she can’t tell. 

Despite her best efforts, Mack still cannot get comfortable after David leaves. Again, the baby feels so low and the pressure is almost unbearable. She gets up, wandering around the room, trying to find what position relieves the ache of pregnancy from her body. She practices her breathing exercises, then again tries her Calm app. Still nothing is working. She throws her phone onto the bed in frustration, then says fuck it, and heads to the freezer where pints of Ben and Jerry’s is waiting for her. It won’t solve being pregnant, but it will provide comfort. 

“What flavor do we want?” She asks her belly. She opens the freezer, looking down at the tops of the lids, reading off the options she has. “I feel like… Ew, why did Daddy get Cherry Garcia? We hate that one!” She chuckles, picking it up. It has already been opened, half eaten. David likes the weirdest, most out there flavors sometimes. “Mmm brownie or strawberry cheesecake?” She murmurs, tilting her head. “Strawberry sounds good. And it has fruit in it, so we can both lie about it having nutritional value!” She leans down, grabbing the top of it. As she comes back up, wetness begins to dribble down her right leg. 

Mack pauses. 

She focuses in on her body, then realizes exactly what that liquid is.

“Oh fuck.” She squeaks. She drops the pint of ice cream, then puts both hands on her belly. “Buddy…” She trails off. 

It’s David. Leave a message or I’m not calling you back.

Mack rolls her eyes at his voicemail and hangs up, incredibly more stressed than she was this morning when this happened. She immediately dials his number again. From her perch in the kitchen, she faintly hears a buzz. She pauses, tilting her ear towards the living room to listen better. The sound cuts off when his voicemail plays again.

“Oh you have to be kidding me.” She sighs. She presses his name again, then watches between two couch cushions light up. “What the hell, David.”

Mack puts her hands on her lower back, rubbing vertically up and down the muscles. She closes her eyes as she begins to pace, trying to stay calm as she feels some tightness happening in her back and abdomen. She remembers the coaching from the doctor’s that first time mothers tend to be in labor for awhile. She figures she has time, so there is no need to try to find her husband. She can wait until he returns.

Time is not on her side tonight.

Mack starts to experience intense pain in her abdomen while she is cleaning herself up. She grips the counter in the bathroom, moaning out in pain as another contraction takes over her. These are fast, much faster than she was expecting. She feels her abdomen release it’s tension, then stands back up to her full height. She meets her eyes in the mirror, seeing the intensity of what she is experiencing there. This must be active labor. Is it possible for her to be at this stage already?

With immense struggle, she finishes getting clean clothes on, including her roomiest pajama shorts. From their bedroom, Mack looks across the first few fields to the other house on the property. She can see a single light on in Felix and Lorena’s kitchen. She grabs her phone and the keys to the Gator, then makes her way there as fast as she can. Being alone seems like a terrible idea right now.

After parking, she stands up, then immediately bends over, moaning at the horrible pain rocketing through her. 

“Holy fuck. Why does my ass hurt so bad?!” She screeches in Swiss German. Her knuckles go white around the metal pole of the Gator. Lorena notices from where she is washing dishes at the sink. The front door flies open and she rushes down.

“Are you in labor!?” She exclaims. “Where is David?”

“He went to help Bob and- uhhhhhhh.” Mack squats down on instinct. She breathes out the way she learned in the brief Youtube video she watched, then opens her eyes into tiny slits to look at the other woman. “He doesn’t have his phone.”

“Felix!” Lorena snaps loudly, slapping the dishtowel against her thigh. “Get out here!” Felix rushes to the door, looking concerned at Mack’s state. “Go get David from Bob’s. Fast! She doesn’t have much time.”

Mack looks at Lorena, delirious from pain. She has time… right? It’s just painful. This is how labor is.

Felix takes off in his truck as Lorena puts Mack back in the Gator to get her home. Lorena stays with Mack, holding her hand as the contractions continue full force. Lorena times them and they are closing in on three minutes apart. There is no doubt anymore that Mack is in active labor. She thinks about that long, half hour drive to the hospital and tears fill her eyes. She needs relief but the drugs are a ways away at this point. 

“Ooooooo…” Mack trails off as the pain from the contraction steals the noise right from her throat. Holy shit, this is so painful. She is pretty sure cartoon stars of pain are floating in her vision as she looks across the wall at a picture of her and David laughing at their wedding. “Where the fuck are you, babe!” She howls through the room. Lorena pats her hand assuringly. 

“It won’t be long now. I’m sure Felix found him. They’re on their way.” 

On cue, David storms through the front door, bringing with him the smell of wet dirt and the cooled summer breeze.

“Honey, how we doing?” He calls to her.

“Horrible!” She yells. David walks into the living room, tossing his work gloves to the side and kneeling on one knee between her legs. He rubs the outsides of her thighs, collecting her forehead on his shoulder.

“Can you walk?” He mumbles against her right ear.

“Honestly, I don’t think so.” She cries, tears leaking down onto his shirt. “Everything is so intense- ugh.” The next contraction hits her, more forceful than the last one, somehow. She wildly searches for David’s hand. He threads her fingers into hers. 

“Great job, baby. Keep breathing.” He coos into her ear. He keeps one hand in hers, then uses the other to rub her lower back. Mack focuses on his tight, circular motions, letting his skin on hers keep her grounded through the pain. 

“We gotta go. I need drugs. Like now.” She says after the contraction is done. 

“How long between contractions are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe like two minutes.”

“Damn. Are you serious? Maybe I should have started with that question.”

“Yeah, I probably should have said that.” She nods rapidly.

“Arms around my neck.” He instructs. Mack does so and then he lifts her into his arms. Mack looks up, seeing Felix and Lorena in the doorway.

“Thank you so much.” She says to them both.

“Good luck you two.” Felix tips his hat to them. “I’ll lock up for you. Just go. Truck is running.” 

“Thanks.” David sighs in relief. The truck’s headlights beam across Mack and David as he carries her to the passenger side. The door is open already, so David can slide her in easily. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Mack hisses, gripping David’s shirt as he tries to work his way out of the cab. He halts, putting his hands on her thigh and shoulder. This time, he doesn’t say anything. When Mack comes out of this contraction, she looks at her husband. “Are we going to make it?” She may be a first time mother, but she can tell the baby’s head is close to crowning. The ring of fire is so severe she can feel vomit pushing at her esophagus. 

“I don’t know.” He says honestly. “But I’m gonna try, honey.” 

Not even five minutes into their drive, Mack already knows the answer to her previous question. The pressure between her legs has her moaning at every dip and bump in the Iowa highway. This isn’t good. Her eyes screw shut again in agony.

“David, he is coming…” She pushes through her gritted teeth. Her finger nails pierce into the palm of his right hand as his thumb rubs at her thigh.

“I know, baby.” He takes his hand back to put both hands on the wheel, pushing down harder on the right pedal.

“No, he is coming. Right NOW.”

David takes his eyes off the road, looking at Mack’s face. It’s flushed and twisted in pain. Her breathing is labored as she shifts uncomfortably in the seat. That Youtube video didn’t have the best suggestions for when you’re raw dogging labor in an old truck at 90 MPH. Listen to your body, Mack can hear that calm, mocking voiceover of the video. Personally, Mack wants to turn that communication all the way the fuck off right now. 

“Okay. Do you want me to keep driving or stop?”

“Um.. ahh!!!” Mack starts to whimper.

David takes his right hand off the wheel again, giving it to her so she can squeeze. Her fingernails pierce through the skin on his knuckles. A gush happens and Mack startles. Something feels different now, she cups her stomach, feeling it slightly squishy. In concern, Mack brings her other hand down, then gasps at David, looking wide-eyed at him. “I can feel his head. Ohmygod, it is partially out.”

David immediately guides the truck off to the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Mack panics. “We have to keep going!”

“Baby, we need to focus on getting him out now. There isn’t time for us to get there. I gotta make sure you’re both safe.” He dials 911 as he gets out of the truck. Mack watches him, shocked and dumbfounded at what is happening right now. 

“Hi, we need an ambulance on County Road 63 near Anderson Lake Trail. My wife is giving birth.” He pauses, pinching the phone between his shoulder and his head as he opens Mack’s door.

“Turn, honey.” Mack is horrified, yet finds herself trusting David completely as he tilts his head in. He gently peels her shorts and panties down, looking directly at her spread legs. He works them all the way off so she is bare and spread eagle in the country night.

“Oooohhhh my god.” Mack hiccups in disbelief. “What’s happening?” She slaps a hand on her forehead. 

“She is 39 weeks. And, uh yeah, his head is partially out. I can see his hair.” He looks up at Mack with sparkling green eyes. Despite it all, she tearfully grins back at him. Their son has hair! David reaches for the lever on her passenger seat, tilting her back further. 

“Scoot back a bit, hon.” He rubs her calf comfortingly with his thumb. Mack watches him in awe now, how completely calm he is as he puts a hand between her legs, ready to catch their child when he enters the world completely. Tears collapse over her lashes and she hiccups from the fear of it all.

Another hearty contraction forces Mack forward, she bares down as David tosses the phone onto the dash. Her knees come up her body and she puffs her breaths through the contraction. 

“Perfect, Mack. You’re doing perfect.” Her husband encourages her softly. A sob retches from Mack’s chest as she feels the baby progress further. “Head is completely out.” David calls towards the phone as more instructions are murmured by the operator. 

“Ow, ow, ow!!” Mack’s howl sears through the dark night. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” Mack grits down on her teeth, shaking from adrenaline and pain. Tears coat her cheeks as she shakes her head no at David. His face is calm and controlled, even his green eyes as they search her face.

“The only way through this is to get him out now, honey.” David says calmly. Mack wants to ask him if he is as scared shitless as she is, but before she can, she feels the build of another contraction. The next scream gets lost in her esophagus. She slams her head back into the headrest, closing her eyes to try and keep from completely losing it right now. Her baby needs her to get him out. She can’t be scared right now. David is here. He won’t let anything happen to them. He is going to get them through this.

And so is she.

“Okay, guide the baby down and to the side for the shoulders to come out.” The 911 operator coaches David. Mack arches off the seat in pain as the pressure builds excruciatingly fast. Then the next contraction comes and she pushes as hard as she can to end this for all of them.  A roar sounds from her chest that sounds nothing like her. Then the baby hits David’s palms as he hollers excitedly, his hearty “Yes!” filling the dark night.

“He’s out!” Mack opens her arms for the baby and David settles their son’s face into the exposed skin coming through her V-neck. “He is on mama.” David tugs his shirt off, gathering the soft cotton to put on their son.

“Great job, mom! Be careful not to pull anything. Is the baby crying?” The operator asks.

“No.” David says, already rubbing at the baby’s back. He has delivered hundreds of farm animals. He knows there needs to be a noise coming from their baby to deem him okay. He needs to breathe. Mack adds her hand too, rubbing limply at him with her husband until that first cry hits their ears.

“Oh!” She exclaims joyfully. Once the baby is consistently sobbing, David leans into the truck more over Mack’s face to kiss her tenderly. 

“You are a fucking badass, baby!” He kisses her harder then works his way over the tear tracks on both of her cheeks, smearing who knows what on her face too. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” She nods, holding tighter to the baby. David’s eyes drift down to their son and he grins wider.

“Look what our love made, honey.” He whispers as the faint sound of sirens crawls closer. David looks over his right shoulder, seeing the flashing red, white and blue lights. “Hold on.” He murmurs, reaching into the back seat for a blanket. He covers Mack’s still spread legs to give her some modesty until they have to check on her. His big hand drapes over her head, thumb brushing her forehead as she closes her eyes and sighs. “You’re okay, baby. He is too. You’re bleeding some still, but it’s not too much.” David assures her. Fresh tears leak out from her corners. Their son continues to cry in his mama’s arms. Then red and blue lights flood over Mack and David’s faces. She opens her eyes, seeing two paramedics rushing to them.

“How are we doing?” One paramedic asks. David steps aside for them, but opens the back door of the truck to stay close to his wife. He gets in, putting his hands on her shoulders so she knows he is right there with her.

“Um, okay?” Mack laughs, letting them see the baby. He has gotten quiet and curious of his new surroundings. They put a blood pressure cuff around her arm, then put the stethoscope on the baby to hear his heartbeat.

“Baby’s heart sounds good!” The paramedic confirms.”I’m gonna check you, okay?” She moves down between Mack’s legs, assessing the situation. With all the adrenaline pumping through her right now, Mack can’t tell how she is doing. She’s on fire and numb all at the same time.

“We might need a new truck.” Mack says nervously.

“Nah, it’ll come out in the wash.” David assures, kissing the top of her head. 

“Dad, did you deliver?” The other paramedic asks as he checks on Mack’s vitals. 

“Yeah!” David grins excitedly. “I knew all that calf birthing would come in handy one day.” Mack scoffs at him.

“Did you just compare me to a cow?”

“No! You were much nicer than the heifers, honey.” The paramedics chuckle in agreement. 

Mack smiles tiredly.

“Weirdly comforting.”

In another few minutes, they have Mack and the baby strapped onto the stretcher. Mack assures David they are okay and he should drive the truck the rest of the way. He follows behind, using the ambulance as an excuse to rip down these old highways from his childhood. He parks the car fast, then runs to the ambulance where they are unloading Mack. Several nurses and two doctors are waiting for them. They all converge on Mack at once.

“David?” She calls weakly, losing him in the sea of people. 

“I’m right behind you, baby. It’s okay.” She nods, holding their son tighter. 

“Congratulations! What a night for you!” A doctor in a white coat says, holding a clip board. “Did anyone happen to catch a time when baby came into the world?” The doctor asks. “Not that you were busy at all?” David laughs. 

“11:14pm.” Mack swoons, thinking of how incredible he is. Everything felt so rushed and crazy. How did he even think to get the time of birth? Because he is David- calm, cool and collected in the rawness of any moment. She loves that about her husband.

Once Mack is settled into a room, they finish the final steps of delivery. The team checks her over, deciding she will need a few stitches. No one is surprised. Their son came fast and furious and Mack didn’t even quite know it was happening until he was being put in her arms by her husband on the side of the road.

Mack looks down at their son as they work on her. He has been cleaned and diapered, covered by a hospital blanket advertising back is best and a striped hat on his head. David stands next to her, rubbing her scalp gently as a tension headache throbs against her skull. The room is quiet and calm, much different than the last hour. Their son closes his eyes and puckers his little lips, already content in his new world.

“Does baby have a name?” A nurse next to the computer asks from across the room. David looks at Mack, kissing her as they both smile, thinking of the person they are naming their son after, who they hope he takes after too.

“Nico Carlson.” Mack answers. 

“Welcome Nico!” The room cheers excitedly. Mack starts to weep, thinking of her dad back in Switzerland, going about his day having no idea he has a grandson with his name now.

Later, when the lights are dim and everyone has left them alone, David sits in a chair next to Mack’s bed, looking down at their son in his arms. They’ve both already done skin to skin, now it’s time to rest, but David can’t. His gaze lifts from their son, who will go by Nicky, to Mack who is sleeping lightly in her bed. She glows now, even after her hard night. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have her.

The night replays in his head- the storm, Mack’s constant discomfort, how low she kept complaining the baby felt. David should have known. He should have sent Felix to help Bob so he was there to help his wife through labor. Instead, he barely got to hold her hand through any of it like he promised her. David reaches out for her hand, resting by her hip. He is careful of her IV as he threads their fingers together. Mack’s eye lashes flutter open. 

“Is he okay?” She asks.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes.” 

“Then we are all good.” He squeezes her hand.

“You need to get some sleep. You’re going on almost 24 hours being awake.” 

“Nah, I run on minutes.” Mack quietly looks him over, then slides her hips back across the bed.

“Come lay with me.” 

David slides into bed beside her, carefully holding their son in his arms. Mack settles on the other side of David’s chest from their son, looking at his sleeping face. His little lips are split open, with fast breathing pushing in and out of them. 

“How did we live without him before?” Mack murmurs, rubbing her fingers along his swaddled arms.

“I don’t know. Suddenly, he’s all the world revolves around.”

“I can’t stop staring at him. He looks like your twin.”

“Minus those big dimples in his cheeks. Those are mama’s.” Mack chuckles. Yes, but before they were hers, they were his namesake’s. David sighs, pressing his fingers deeper into her back as he kisses her head. “I’m so sorry you had to do so much of yesterday alone. I should have checked for my phone and I didn’t. I let you down.”

“You delivered our baby…” Mack trails off, blinking incredulously. 

“Well, I had to deliver the baby in the truck because we were so late. If I had my phone, or didn’t go to help Bob-"

“We will never know.” Mack says quietly. “And as parents now, we need to let that stuff go. The things we can’t change or the paths we didn’t take, like not being parents. We are here- exactly where we are supposed to be- perfect and healthy.” 

“I knew you were going to be an incredible mama and wife. Thank you, honey, for giving me my entire world.” 

Mack puckers her lips. He leans down to kiss her hard, lovingly, relentlessly. His hand cradles her firmly to his chest, then they both turn back down to stare at their son’s face. 

Nico Carlson has already changed the world.

[connorsui]

Marked in Metal

Caleb... loves ... buying you rings.

It wasn’t something you directly questioned—at least, not seriously. He had always been like that, always finding little things to slip into your life as a form of joy. Bracelets, necklaces, little earrings here and there.

But ...rings?

Oh, those were his favorite.

— Princess cut, Briolette, Trilliant, Radiant.

Oval and round. The entire catalog.

And it wasn’t just about the aesthetic. No, it was something else entirely—something unspoken in the way he always lingered just a second longer when slipping the ring onto your finger, something in the way his eyes darkened with quiet satisfaction whenever you lifted your hand, light catching on whatever new piece he had picked out for you.

Like now for instances.

"Here," he said one afternoon, handing you a small velvet box. His voice was casual, but his fingers brushed yours when you took it from him. "Saw this new piece on my way home and thought of you."

You barely glanced up from your work before popping the box open, the soft click of the latch followed by a quiet inhale as you took in the ring nestled inside. A smooth sterling silver band, sleek and polished, with fluted rose gold prongs holding a citrine gem. The cut was extravagant, the kind of thing that should have been reserved for engagement rings, but you had long stopped questioning Caleb’s taste.

"Caleb," you groaned, rolling your eyes but still sliding it onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as they always did. "You have to stop doing this."

"And why should I?" He smirked, leaning back against the couch, arm thrown over the backrest as he watched you admire the ring despite your protests. "Looks good on you."

You twisted your fingers, letting the metal catch the light. He could see it in your face—the way your lips curved slightly, the way your brows relaxed—that moment of pure, genuine appreciation. He memorized that expression every time.

Because no matter how much you insisted it was too much, you never turned them down.

And he never had to worry about you asking how much they cost.

But it wasn’t about the price anyway. It was about the way you wore them, the way your hands danced through the air when you talked, your fingers adorned with pieces he had chosen. It was about the quiet thrill of watching everyone else notice, of knowing that every time someone asked where you got them, your answer was always the same.

"Caleb, obviously. He’s the reason I have half my jewelry box."

That was enough for him.

But this one was different.

"Wait, Caleb?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, amused and lilting. "Did you know this was engraved?"

You held up the ring between your fingers, tilting it just enough for the small inscription inside to catch the light.

.C.

Delicate, subtle, almost invisible unless you were looking for it.

He raised a brow, feigning nonchalance. "Oh? …I don't actually remember seeing that anywhere?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You seriously didn't notice?"

"Guess not." He shrugged, and you huffed out a laugh, shaking your head.

"I don’t think I believe you."

He didn’t respond, only watching as you lifted your phone, snapping a picture. Within minutes, your messages flooded with the usual teasing.

"Another one? Does Caleb just collect rings for you now?"

"That’s basically a proposal, babe!"

"Correction. This is the one billionth proposal"

And, as always, your reply was the same.

"Of course it’s Caleb. Who else spoils me like this constantly?"

He loved that. Loved knowing that when others have noticed the rings on your fingers, they knew exactly who put them there.

But even when he adorned your hands, his own ring was different.

It never sat on his finger. It had its own place, strung securely onto the same chain as his tags, resting against his chest beneath the layers of his uniform.

Same material, same weight.

But the chain never left his body. It was there in the dead of night, cold against his skin. There in the thick of the day, clinking softly against metal. It was there when the world was loud and chaotic, when exhaustion pulled at his bones, grounding him with the quiet weight of something real.

Something that brought him back to you.

And when he returned home?

when he was finally home, the chain came off—but the ring never stayed in some forgotten drawer.

No, it belonged in the same place it always did.

Right where you were—pressed close against his heart.

[tokiro07]

Ichi the Witch ch.19 thoughts

[I'll Get You Next Time, Magik! Next time!!!]

(Topics: narrative analysis - arc progression/world-building, character analysis - World Hater/Ichi, speculation)

Aww, the ceiling battle's over already? Maaan...

It makes sense, though. You gotta save something for later, otherwise you can't escalate and everything is either stagnant at best or a deheightening at worst. Zoro vs. Mihawk didn't explain what Haki was, it just showed how vast the gap in power and skill was between the early-game Straw Hats and the One Piece world's strongest fighters

Looking at it through that lens, Desscaras vs. World Hater accomplished its goal quite well. Like I said last week, what took everything out of Ichi was a casual attack for Desscaras, World Hater still comes off as a viable threat because they were able to harm Desscaras despite her overwhelming power, and both still have room to impress and surprise us because we only got a small sample of their capabilities

It also establishes that brute force isn't enough to contend with World Hater. We already knew that since they're a Magik and can only be defeated through their trial, but at least now we know that their trial isn't related to hitting them in any one target spot. As they say, "merely being the strongest isn't nearly enough to effect me"

What this means is that, while being strong may turn out to be a prerequisite to pass, another element will be vital for defeating World Hater. I think it goes without saying that Ichi will be the key to determining what that element is, since his entire role in the narrative so far has been to defy conventional wisdom and tradition, but whether that means that only Ichi can acquire World Hater or will simply facilitate someone else doing so (personally I'd bet on Kumugi) remains to be seen

The odd thing about this, though, is that if Desscaras couldn't hope to beat World Hater, why did World Hater leave?

This Calls for a Tactical Retreat

Theoretically, World Hater's strength should be inexhaustible, while clearly Desscaras was starting to run out of steam. Sooner or later, no matter what Desscaras threw out at them, World Hater should have been able to overtake her and eliminate her as a threat

Perhaps it was because Togeice showed up? Togeice is more analytical than Desscaras, so perhaps World Hater assumed she might be capable of figuring out their trial?

That doesn't seem very likely, since I don't think World Hater has any way of knowing who Togeice even is. If they aren't familiar with her or her abilities, they shouldn't be able to assess her threat level so easily, and given how nonchalant they've been against their other opponents so far, it's not like they're a generally cautious fighter in the first place

In fact, it wasn't Togeice's appearance that prompted World Hater to retreat - it was the disappearance of their target, the villagers. It was only upon noticing the villages leaving the barrier that World Hater decided there wasn't a point to combat any longer, even if it would have meant, again, eliminating major threats

I have two guesses as to why that might be the case:

World Hater can only exist in the world for so long consecutively, and didn't have time to chase down his targets after they'd escaped his barrier

Facilitating the escape of World Hater's targets is related to their trial

The first is supported by the fact that World Hater isn't just constantly warping towns day after day, but instead only appears once in a blue moon to target one or two at once. However, as far as we can tell, it's been years since their last appearance, but we know they're going to come back much faster this time simply by virtue of the story requiring it to advance, so a consistent hard limit on their presence seems somewhat unlikely

The second would definitely explain why he'd be in such a hurry to go, as even if there were another step to take to actually pass the trial, it would certainly be much easier to do once the first hurdle was cleared. However, nothing about World Hater's demeanor seemed to indicate that they were actually worried about that possibility, but this might be a matter of World Hater's character acting and lack of strong emotions

Either way, the incongruence of World Hater's decision to leave seems to carry some interesting implications about them that I hope will bear fruit later, but that really isn't the main draw of this chapter

No, the much more important element of this chapter is the new piece of world-building: the Magic Circle, or a Witch's inner world

Domain Expansion Lite

When we enter Ichi's inner world, we learn two things:

That it resembles Ichi's ideal form of a mountain forest

That all of Ichi's acquired Magiks currently reside there

I'm ecstatic that Inazuri and Uruwashi are both still around and not just completely dormant in their magic stones, as this means that there is still a method for both of them to still function as characters without necessitating that every acquired Magik be everpresent and crowding the narrative. It allows Nishi to use them on an as-needed basis rather than needing Usazaki to have them constantly and uselessly taking up panel space

I am curious how Nishi is going to use this concept, though. Ichi only ended up in his Magic Circle because he was knocked out fighting World Hater, but this is his third time passing out from using Uroro, and yet he didn't end up here before? That's a little odd. I assume he'll be able to come and go as he pleases once he has a bit more training and familiarity with magic, but to what end?

Does time move differently in one's inner world like it does in Bleach? Will he be able to train with his Magiks in there? Will he be able to manifest his inner world like a Jujutsu Sorcerer? Or is it just a way to let Witches commune with their Magiks and reflect on their characterization?

That last one is certainly the case if nothing else, as Ichi's is, again, based on his ideal scenario. It's his world, and it's shaped accordingly - crisp, clean air that's easy to breathe, rich soil that supports bountiful flora, and presumably any creature that Ichi could dream of hunting. It's everything Ichi could ever want

But will that be the case for every Witch?

Is the inner world always one's personal paradise, or does it depend on the circumstances? Ichi certainly didn't always consider mountain life to be his ideal, so perhaps does the inner world reflect one's state of mind?

What would we see in Desscaras' Magic Circle? If it's based on one's self-image, we might see a lavish palace surrounded by adoring fans, the way Desscaras seems to think people view her

If it's based on one's mental state, we might see the warped remains of her old life, informed by her drive to take revenge on the World Hater

Or, if it really is based on one's ideal, we might see what once was. A mundane little house in a mundane little town, and a mundane little family living their mundane little life. Would this be the only way that Desscaras could see them again? The only way she could talk to them and hold them as she once did? Or would it just be a mirage, a video on playback that she can't interact with in any meaningful way, merely a cruel reminder of all she's lost?

Depending on how Nishi chooses to play it, this might even be how Witches get their titles. Monegold's may be lined with gold, Togeice's may be a glittering tundra, and Desscaras'...well, I think you can imagine

I also have to wonder if perhaps this will play some role in the fight against World Hater. Perhaps retreating into one's inner world is a way to evade them? Or they'll be able to enter other people's inner worlds with their portals? They were the same design as the one Uroro pushed Ichi into to send him back to the real world, so maybe World Hater spends their time in their own inner world?

I don't want to read into this too much since...we literally haven't seen anything of it yet, but it provides such an interesting narrative opportunity that I can't help but look forward to how it develops further

And it seems that the same can be said of Ichi

You Haven't Seen the Last of Me

Ichi accepts his loss with shocking grace, believing himself to be the hunted rather than the hunter in this case. I suppose the fact that he doesn't have any grand ambitions helps, as he doesn't have anything to regret, but the fact that he doesn't even seem frustrated is a very interesting angle for his character

Instead, he seems more determined than ever. I know that's pretty standard shonen fare, but the transition is just so...seamless. Like it never occurred to him to be even the slightest bit downtrodden about the loss, he just calmly analyzed it and moved on to thinking about his next steps

Knowing that he's lucky to have lived to fight another day, Ichi presses his hands to the screen that he's watching the World Hater through and vows to gain the strength to one day hunt them down. World Hater, sensing Ichi's bloodlust just as Ichi could sense theirs at the beginning of their battle, turns to his unconscious body...

And smiles

Fellas, is it still yaoi if one of you uses "they/them?"

A few chapters ago I suggested that World Hater may see something in Ichi that they've been looking for, the missing puzzle piece in their life that would make them whole. This doesn't necessarily confirm that, but the World Hater is clearly pleased that Ichi is coming away from his near-death with the resolve to come back better than ever. Possibly for the first time in his life, World Hater has something to look forward to, a way to spend his time other than going through the motions of his usual raison d'etre of mindless destruction

And by the looks of it, I'm not the only one who noticed that

Lamb to the Slaughter

As the World Hater vanishes through their portal, Uroro offers Ichi a warning: "you're gonna end up a sacrifice," and then refuses to elaborate further, passing the buck onto Desscaras

Now, I won't say for sure that this is related to World Hater smiling, but my guess is that everyone has reached the same conclusion: whatever World Hater's trial is, Ichi is their best bet at figuring it out

As Desscaras pointed out last week, World Hater took unique measures when dealing with Ichi, as if they were scared of him, and in comparison were surprisingly casual in how they dealt with Desscaras. This suggests that Ichi has something that Desscaras doesn't, something that makes the World Hater actually consider the possibility that he might be in danger of being acquired

And so, just as Ichi is going to be willing to learn more about being a Witch, Mantinel is certainly going to be willing to teach him, but for completely different reasons: whereas he wants to get stronger, they want to fatten him up and use him as bait for the World Hater

Or at least, that's the impression that Uroro is giving. His word certainly can't be taken at face value, as he's already tried to get Ichi to turn against Mantinel a number of times, but if Mantinel is going to dangle a carrot in front of Ichi that Uroro thinks is actually a stick, then pointing out the stick to Ichi is a win for Uroro whether it's really there or not

Personally I think it would be interesting if Mantinel has a double motive, both trying to bolster Ichi as one of their own and raise him up as a scapegoat to take out one of their biggest threats at the cost of his own life rather than any of theirs. Putting a little bit of political drama like that might be a fun way to up the complexity of the narrative and potentially create a schism within the Witches Association as a whole, but again, I may be getting ahead of myself

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[ofcrowsanddragons]

I want to hear about the Lucavrin drinking scene 👀👀

I WROTE THE BRONCO story! The rest of this fic is going places. SOON. Warning for animal death. Rook is out with Neve (Neverook) when the drinking scene takes place.

Lucanis took a longer sip from the mug, closing his eyes with a sigh. Davrin watched him from the armchair in the corner, lounging with his legs stretched toward the table and his arms resting lazily against the sides of the chair.

“Well, now you have to tell me,” Davrin teased, letting his head fall back against the mosaic, his eyes half-closed.

“That bronco…” Lucanis groaned, lowering his cup so that both arms were crossed in front of his chest. “All right, so you’ve heard Harding’s commentary on how much assassins are paid, yes?”

Davrin hummed. “’Lots,’” he quoted, keeping a straight face.

The assassin cast him a dark look, but Davrin just smiled at him like a cat, all playful innocence.

“Half of our contracts,” said Lucanis, and he paused, looking for words. He looked like he was trying not to ruin the warm mood, and Davrin waited him out. “Most of them, really, are games of one-upmanship among the merchant princes and foreign nobility.”

“So how does a horse factor into that?” asked Davrin, keeping his tone light. “It was a horse, right?”

“You would think!” said Lucanis, his voice lighting up with exasperation as he tipped his cup toward Davrin. “So here I am at the estate of a horse breeder in Southern Antiva who’s pushed some other merchant far enough that they’ve hired a Crow to teach him a lesson. It’s after dinner, so most of the ranch hands are indoors and drinking. And me? I’m much too pleased with myself because, let me tell you, the oxtail stew at the place I was staying, with one of the local red wines?”

“To die for?” asked Davrin.

“You understand. I skirt around the outside of the villa,” he said, “And I make my way toward the pasture where I’ve been told that the prince’s prized breeding stallion is kept. It’s a warm enough time of year, but that should have been a warning sign, you know?”

“Ha,” said Davrin, “Not like a prince to let his favourite animal roam outside of a paddock. At night.”

“And the dehesa, the pasture with the trees, it was communal property,” Lucanis said, pressing a hand to his forehead and running it down his face. “Everyone let their animals graze there.”

Davrin chuckled. “But even someone trying to keep a wild horse would keep the stud in a separate pasture.”

“I didn’t know anything about horses!” said Lucanis with a laugh, setting both forearms on the armrest and leaning forward. “I thought all I needed to do was track the damn bronco and—” he interrupted himself and sighed.

“I’m not that fragile,” said Davrin. He picked up his cup and took a sip of the wine. It was some Tevinter white that he’d picked up in Docktown the last time they’d been through, but Lucanis hadn’t complained about it, and this wasn't the first bottle of it. “So you’re a hotshot baby assassin loaded up with good food and wine, and you’re planning to kill a horse.”

Lucanis leaned forward out of his seat, and through the warm haze of the alcohol and conversation, Davrin let himself admire the liquid grace of the other man. Lucanis came to his feet in an effortless motion and stalked over to the wine bottle on Davrin’s side of the table. He swayed, just a little, as he entered Davrin’s space, leaning toward the hunter like there was a magnetic field that he had to pull away from.

Well. That was interesting.

“It was not just a horse,” Lucanis grumbled, pouring himself a serving of the wine and meeting Davrin’s eyes with too-deliberate calm. “Do you want a top up?” he asked, hefting the bottle.

Davrin let his head tilt to the side as he studied Lucanis standing above him. He held up the cup so Lucanis could pour. “Sure.”

The assassin didn't meet his eyes as he emptied the bottle into Davrin’s cup, and he watched the stream of wine with more focus and care than the task called for. Davrin had to hide a smile at that.

“It was perfect, Davrin,” he complained as he set down the bottle, pulling back and leaning against the mosaic, just out of Davrin’s reach. “I was downwind, nobody had spotted me, and I had a crossbow bolt loaded with enough poison to painlessly kill a horse.”

Davrin leaned forward. “Did you miss?”

Lucanis scoffed. “I did not miss. The bolt hit the horse dead on.”

“So what happened?”

“It exploded,” said Lucanis, “And then I had a skeletal nightmare horse with a flaming head standing directly in front of me, staring into my soul.”

“Yeah,” said Davrin, looking the man directly in the eye as he brought the cup to his lips. “That happens.”

“I was seventeen and had never seen livestock explode into a demon,” said Lucanis dryly. “If it had been a fight, it wouldn't have been nearly as memorable. That demon turned tail and ran like the wind.”

“What?” said Davrin, with a laugh. “I have never seen that happen. It's always a rage demon or something. Tries to smash you flat on the spot.”

“Well this one ran,” said Lucanis, his eyes sparkling as he leaned back so that both shoulders touched the tiles on the wall. He crossed one leg over the other, both arms still crossed. “I had to track that demon through the foothills for weeks.”

Davrin snorted. “You were a big, scary Crow even then, huh?”

“I was a scrawny youth who had barely learned to hold a sword at the right end,” Lucanis corrected, “And I was wearing new boots.”

“Ouch.”

Lucanis give him a small smile and let his eyes dart back to the coffee cup, like he was pleased his story had hit with the right impact. The man swirled the wine in the cup.

[junixscribble]

Hexbug TM

Once again blame the server. I have no excuses for this one.

(Arcane lore + LOL Machine Herald)

Title: Hexbug TM

WC: 2029w

Summary: Jayce's constant need for revenge manifests itself into ingenuity. Very unfortunately for Viktor, Jayce has his sights set dead square on him.

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

Ever since setting up shop with the Machine Herald, Jayce had been getting in a few more fights. Not to the extent of his previous position as the Defender of Tomorrow (who according to the Piltover Press was on sabbatical) but more petty spats with chempunks. He had to admit that a couple of these had been started on purpose, much to Viktor’s chagrin. Viktor, in his high and mighty Herald-ness, thought petty fights were beneath him. Which is why it was such a surprise for Jayce when he walked with his arm half torn off and a hole in his side. 

“Hey, V- holy fuck! What happened?” Jayce rushed over, taking some of the weight off Viktor’s dead arm from him. 

“Some idiot decided to try and scam a child. I stepped in.”

“What’s this I hear from Mr No Unnecessary Fighting?” Jayce couldn’t help but tease, even if the hexclaw singed his hair for it. 

“This fight was necessary. Are you going to help, or stand there?” 

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get pissy. Wow, they really did a number on you huh?”

He poked into the mess of wiring that was the cavern in Viktor’s side and he squirmed away. 

“Stop that. Get me over to the table.”

The table was the one in the corner, kept clear and reserved for when one of them fucked up so badly they had to be put back together. Normally it was Jayce on the table. Viktor hauled himself up onto the table and unclasped his mask, tossing it to the side. His face was contorted in discomfort - while his modifications dulled pain, it could not remove it completely. 

“How does it look?” He asked Jayce, his tone betraying his anxiety. Jayce peered at the arm, and then into his side. 

“Hmm. The arm is only torn at the hinge, and none of the wiring broke so that will be an easy enough fix. You’ve demolished some plates on your ribs and the wiring is a mess so that will need a little more time. Jeez, what did they hit you with?”

“Death ray.” 

Jayce gave Viktor a deadpan look and Viktor raised his eyebrows. “It was purple.”

“Sure. Anyway, let's get this armour off and get you fixed.”

Once the armour was off and Viktor had laid down, Jayce pulled out a box lovingly labelled as ‘Vik’s Robo Parts’ and got to work. They kept up conversation the whole time, and Viktor admitted it took him longer to get back because he wanted to make sure the kid was looked after. Jayce should have expected as much - for the stubborn front he put up, Viktor sure had a soft spot for children. 

It took about an hour and a half of work to fix everything back up, not without complaints from Viktor.

“You’re soldering that wrong, I can feel it.”

“No, I’m not. I’m soldering it my way, which is the correct way and not your weird version.”

“Mine is superior and holds stronger. Redo it.”

Jayce sat back and put the soldering iron in its stand. “Do you want me to get the cattle prod while you're immobile here?”

Viktor glared, but couldn’t help the flush that rose to his cheeks. They had recently discovered that powerful electricity had a very different effect on Viktor than it did Jayce. It turns out that when you shock someone who has partially metal nerves, it tickles like hell. Jayce had used this incessantly when Viktor was being annoying and it pissed him off to no end, never mind the fact that Viktor himself had a bad habit of using the hexclaw to torment Jayce. When he was the victim, it was a hate crime in his eyes. 

“If you do, I will put that fun powder I made in a random set of your socks and wait for you to put them on.”

Now it was Jayce’s turn to blush. The powder referenced was an accidental concoction of Viktor’s that made the victim ridiculously sensitive to any form of touch. Getting the stuff off was bad enough, but the fastest way to dissolve the effects was to provide… certain stimulation. This war between the two had been going on for months, and at this point Viktor was winning.

Viktor huffed out a smug laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

Jayce gave him a weary look and went back to screwing the plates into Viktor’s side. He kept his face schooled as he carefully slipped a small disc under the panel without Viktor’s knowledge before screwing it closed. 

“Well, there you go. Good as new.” Jayce stood and wiped his greasy hands on a rag. 

Viktor powered half his body back on with an audible whirr, flexing his arm and feeling hte plating on his ribs. 

“Decent.”

“Just decent?”

Viktor groaned. “What do you want from me? ‘Oh Jayce, it’s the most wonderful repair ever! However may I thank you, big strong beefcake who has come to save me?’”

Jayce couldn’t help but laugh at Viktor’s ridiculous impression of himself. “Well I don’t know, that could be nice. Being called a beefcake is a plus.”

Jayce flexed his arms in jest and Viktor recoiled. 

“Forget it, I am never speaking to you again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“This time, I do.”

In the week following life went on as usual, and while Viktor did have to stitch up Jayce’s leg after someone decided to run at him with a knife it was uneventful. Which is the perfect environment for them to start pissing each other off. This time Viktor had left blueprints all over Jayce’s workstation. 

“Viktor, is it seriously that difficult to pick up after yourself?”

Viktor shrugged, not even looking at him. “My lab, my space.”

“Which you are currently sharing.”

“What did I just say? My lab.”

Jayce huffed, stashing the blueprints into the box they came out of. “You are a problem.”

“Oh, I’m a problem now? I wasn’t a problem when you ran into a knife two days ago. I even gave you lidocaine.” 

“You’re like if a tin can could speak and it was bad.”

Viktor turned to throw a piece of chalk at his head. It missed, so he turned back to his board with a grumble and realised he had in fact just thrown his last piece of chalk. Jayce could almost see the steam rising off his shoulders. 

“Jayce. My chalk, if you please.”

“Hmm… no.”

“What?”

Jayce laughed at the slightly dumbfounded look on Viktor’s face. “You chuck chalk at my face and expect me to give it back?”

Viktor started striding across the room towards him. “Motherfucker I am going to strap you down to a table and make you feel torture like you’ve never known.”

“Not if I get there first.”

Jayce jammed a hand in his pocket and closed it around a small remote, flicking the switch on the side and turning the knob up three clicks of the seven that were on it. Viktor stopped in his tracks and shrieked, falling to his knees and clawing at his side as a loud zapping noise started. He tried to speak, but Jayce turned the dial up another level and Viktor keeled over on his side, laughing. 

“JAHAYCE!”

Jayce turned the dial down to one, watching Viktor giggle and catch his breath. 

“Whahat did you dohoho?”��

“Hexbug.” Jayce said, turning the dial up and down again and making Viktor cackle. 

“Ehehe… elaborahate!”

“I made it! I took a cattle prod apart and made a little bug out of it. It can emit the same shocks that the prod does. Cool, right?”

“NohohOT COOL! Why- ahaha! Why is it insihide me?” 

“I put it there.” Jayce played with the dial, turning it up and down for fun. “And it means I can do this.”

Jayce placed his thumb on a joystick and Viktor felt something inside him move. The awful ticklish feeling was centred over a spot on his ribs, but that was now rapidly crawling down his side. The current stopped and Viktor felt tiny legs latching onto the wiring in his chest and crawling around. Viktor barely held back a yell as he fell backward onto the floor, kicking uncontrollably. Jayce knew the wires he was messing with connected to his nerves. At least if it was maintenance he could smack away his hands but this? He couldn’t exactly rip apart his own chest, no matter how badly it tickled. 

“JAHAYCE YOHOU AHAHASSHOLE!”

“Aw, does that tickle?”

The bug burrowed into a section of wiring near his spine and zapped again, making Viktor jolt. Jayce noticed the reaction and sent the bug on a fast paced adventure of his internal wiring, zapping at random intervals. This very quickly dissolved Viktor into a squirmy, hysterical mess. 

Jayce watched the carnage with a grin, turning down the voltage and piloting the little bug up Viktor’s spine until it was sitting near his central nervous controls. Viktor’s eyes widened when he felt the bug step onto the motherboard. 

“Jayce- Jahayce I don’t think you realise what this will do to me-”

“Really? Cause I think it’s gonna tickle really badly.”

The bug walked fully onto the board and Viktor made a choked noise, half a laugh in his throat already. 

“I wanna see what each voltage does here.”

 “Jayce, no!”

“Why? Is it gonna tickle?” 

Viktor felt the bug electrify and the popping noise started, along with what felt like a gentle, unbearable tickle throughout all the metal parts of his body. 

“Shihit! Ihit’s everywhehere!”

Jayce lit up like the sun, and Viktor knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth. “Wait, that translates to all the augmentations?” 

Viktor didn’t confirm, and he didn’t need to. 

“So what you’re saying is if I turn this up here it’s going to tickle all over?”

Jayce turned the dial up to level two, and he broke.

“YEHES!” 

Jayce leaned in with a grin. “Good.” 

The dial turned up to three, and then four. Viktor screamed. 

“Four… five…”

“PLEHEHEASE AHAHAHA!”

“Six…” 

“IHIT TIHIHICKLES!” 

“Aaaand seven!” Jayce counted through all the levels, paying close attention to how Viktor reacted with each one. At the highest level he could see the electricity arcing over Viktor’s body while the man thrashed on the floor, completely lost in his own frenzied laughter. Jayce let him sit through the torture for a few seconds before turning the dial back to zero and switching the remote off. 

Viktor curled into a ball on the ground, still giggling at the last zaps of the current. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“...how do you THINK?” Viktor spat, sitting up. His hair was a tousled mess and his face was flushed adorably. “You just tickled me from the inside! I didn’t even know that could be fucking done!” 

Jayce felt a little bad. Just a little. “If you hop on the table I’ll remove the bug.” 

Viktor heaved for breath and held out a hand to stop. “No, no, just leave it. I can’t be bothered going through the rigmarole. I do ask that you don’t leave it directly over my nervous system though.” 

“Oh!” Jayce started, turning on the remote again. The bug took a step and Viktor arched his back, squeaking. 

“Ah, sorry. Heh. This will tickle.” 

He carefully drove the bug down to Viktor’s side while his partner tittered, placing it somewhere he could easily access the next time Viktor took himself apart. Jayce turned off the remote and placed it on his desk. 

“You deserved that.” 

Jayce got a hexclaw middle finger in response. Viktor stood and brushed himself off.

“I hate to admit it, but I do have to hand it to you. I did not see that one coming.” 

Jayce beamed with pride, and Viktor caught his expression with narrowed eyes. 

“This is not something to celebrate, Jayce. See, now I must one up you. Prepare yourself.” 

Viktor picked up his thrown chalk and went back to his equation, leaving Jayce sweating by the desk. He had just hammered in the final nail of his own coffin. 

[doodleimprovement]

Shiz Babysitters AU: The Aftermath of a Twister

Premise: How Fiyero found Dorothy

Characters: Fiyero, Dorothy, Boq

AO3 Link: Coming Soon!

Author Notes: It begiiiiiiiins :3c

If you asked Fiyero Tigelaar what his talents were, he’d tell you it was “enjoying life” 

If you tried instead to ask about his aptitude, he’d reply with a grin and a glib joke about his attitude. 

If, in your growing frustration, you ask him if he was good at anything that mattered, he’d say that nothing does. 

These were all lies, obviously, because everyone is good at something! 

Prince Fiyero however, preferred lowered expectations. Under-promise? Over-deliver!

That’s why he was skipping class! Not because math made him feel actually stupid

Nope. Not at all. 

Besides, he needed to see what the forest around Shiz looked like after that wild storm last night. 

His roommate said it was a rare phenomena called a “twister”, and that they were often omens - often carrying magic within them. 

And a part of Fiyero - the curious part he rarely indulged in - urged him to see whatever this so-called twitter had brought to Shiz. 

As he started his rather casual exploration, he took in what differences he could notice. There weren't a lot, but if you knew where to look, you could tell something blew through. 

Some trees were stripped of their leaves, a few branches hanging on by a thread, and - pointedly - a distinct lack of any lower-case animals wandering around. That meant the storm had gotten pretty nasty on the ground. 

Fiyero wondered if he should have brought Feldspur with him - if only for the company. 

But then his eyes caught something that definitely had not been there on his last nature walk. 

Wood - Planks - A Wall?

As it came into view, he realized it was some small shed-like structure. Two meters on one side, a little less on the other, with some splintered wood at the bottom, showing it was forcibly moved. Comically, the door was closed. 

“Huh… Did the twister bring this here?” He muttered to himself, before hearing something go THUNK! causing him to jump. 

Oh, sweet Oz, was there something inside??

There was a little noise, it didn’t sound like an animal, or an Animal… 

At a bit of a loss for what to do, he… knocked. 

“Uhm, hello? Is someone in here? Something?” 

The door rattled, and then slowly opened. 

There was nothing at Fiyero’s eye level. His eyes traveled down… down.. Until he made eye contact with a pair of brown, very human, eyes. 

Oh, oh there’s a child in here!! 

“Hello there! You probably shouldn’t be here, hm?” 

The little girl staring up at him looked rather disheveled, in a young child’s dress with a dirtied gingham pattern and high neckline. Her hair was in some unkempt braids tied with what looked like twine. She was only wearing one shoe. 

Fiyero didn’t need to use much deep thought to figure out that she wasn’t from around here. 

She wasn’t saying anything. He could see the fear in those big eyes. 

Taking a page from his nanny’s book, he took a second to get down on one knee so he was no longer towering over the girl. 

“You’re not from around here?” He offered, and she shook her head. “Well, do you know where you are?” She shook her head again “You’re near Shiz University, in Gillikin?” 

Her confused expression was not a good sign. 

“Huh, you’re a long way from home then! Shiz is all the way in Central Gillikin, so if you don’t even recognize that name you must be from far off!” He explained, keeping his tone light. “So, where are you from then? Vinkus?” 

She shook her head. 

“Munchkin Land?”

She shook her head again. 

“Quadling Country?”

She giggled a little at the name, expression seeming calmer as she shook her head once more. 

“Heh, it is a bit of a funny name, isn’t it?” He admitted “But those are all of the major provinces here in Oz… Where are you from then, if you don’t mind me asking?” He offered the little girl a smile, and her hands finally left the door, going to grab onto her dress 

“... Kansas” Her sweet little voice rung out, a little hoarse, a little nervous “Been raised in Topeka but I’d been moved t’Butler County” 

Oh. Wow. Fiyero hadn’t heard of any of those places. He pondered, briefly, if he shouldn’t have skipped geography, but then remembered that he knew every major province in Oz as a necessity of being a prince, and there was no way that if she was of Oz, that he wouldn’t have heard of at least one of those places. 

“Well… I’ve never been to this “Can-Sass” you speak of” He started “Nor of a “Toe-peek-ah” and the only butler I know is the one at my family castle in Vinkus” 

“... Castle?” 

Hah. Just as he planned. 

“Castle! I’m a prince, you know!” 

She shook her head “Uh-uh, I don’t know!” 

Happy to get her talking more, he took a chance to stand up “Well, that’s because I haven’t introduced myself!” He bowed as low as he could possibly go, comically so, and was pleased when he got his desired reaction of giggles. 

“Prince Fiyero Tigelaar of the Vinkus!” He popped his head back up to look at her “And to who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” 

She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, with a little - and very adorable - smile on her face “My - My name’s Dorothy” 

“Dorothy. Ah! What a lovely name! Dorothy of Kansas: has a ring to it, wouldn't you say?” 

Shrugging her one shoulder, she looked around the forest they were in, and Fiyero pointedly noticed that the animals were starting to return. While this forest was mostly harmless for the adult students at Shiz, it was no place for children. 

Fiyero may be a fool, but he was not heartless. 

“Now, Little Miss Dorothy!” He caught her full attention again “As a fancy prince with good manners, I cannot - In good conscience! - leave a fair young lady by herself!” He got another giggle from her as he waved his hand around before offering it “I’m sure you don’t wanna stay in the forest, do you?” 

She seemed to take a look around the fantastical forest, and gave a shake of her head again, taking his hand. Her little hand was completely enveloped in his. Fiyero wondered if all kids were this tiny and adorable - not like he spent a lot of time with children. 

“Wher’ we goin?” She asked meekly. 

“Well, I’m gonna walk you over to the school I'm going to!” He explained “There’s a lot of people there that can help you out. Certainly you would like to return to this “Can-Sass”” 

She nodded “Mhm, uh-huh. My Auntie Em gotta be lookin’ f’r me” She contemplated. 

“Your auntie? She watches you?” 

Dorothy nodded again as Fiyero started leading the way with her in hand “Her an’ my Uncle Henry” 

“Ahh aunt and uncle. Watching you for your parents - awful nice of them!” 

Dorothy went quiet at that, not responding to him. When he looked down at her, she was starting at the forest floor. Her hand was limp in his. 

Oh. Okay. Parents are a bad topic. Abort - Abort! 

“Say - does Can-sass have universities?” 

“Huh?” 

“Does your land have big schools like Shiz? Do you perhaps go to one?”

She looked back up at him at the question “I don’t go to school yet. Auntie Em says I don’t gotta go till next year. I was s’posed to go this year, but that was in Topeka…” 

“Is Topeka different from Butler County?” He questioned, and she nodded - sure did like to nod and shake her head, didn’t she?

“They’re very different, Mister Prince F’yero” 

“Care to try to explain to me? I know nothing of your strange foreign land!” He grinned “Please, do explain!!” 

“Uhh, uhm, well, Topeka…” 

She didn’t use a lot of big words, and there was some humming to fill space, but it got her talking, and that was what he wanted to get that sad little expression off of her face. 

Once they got to Shiz, he’d find a professor and hand her off so one of the faculty could get her taken care of. Easy! His good deed for today. 

It was a good thing the girl was so charming, he would certainly remember her fondly

--

Boq Woodsman had what could generously be called mixed feelings on his roommate. 

On the one hand, he was a prince, coasting through his life. 

On the other hand, he was actually a pretty decent friend, all things considered. 

He wasn’t being a good friend now, what with missing for most of the day, but that wasn’t currently relevant. 

What was relevant was his roommate, showing up wearing a hooded cape with a child clinging to his leg. 

“.... Hello there, Boq” Fiyero’s fake smile overtook his face “This is Dorothy!” 

The little girl, looking a little disheveled and missing a shoe (though she didn't seem bothered by it) gave him a shy wave from behind Fiyero’s leg. 

“.... Fiyero- Why is there a child here?” 

“Ah, yes, the why. Can I delay that question while we get out that cot under your bed?” The prince took off the cloak after he shut the door to their dorm room, and hung it up right on the hooks. “Dorothy could use a rest - we’ve had an eventful afternoon, haven’t we?” 

She nodded up to him, staring at the prince like he hung the moon, which made Boq roll his eyes. She did look tired, and clearly there was a story here. 

“Fine. Fine.”The munchkin stood up from his desk “But you better explain everything” 

“You have my word, friend - Are you ready for a little rest, Little Dot?” 

Boq sighed, marching over his bed and pulling the cot out, mentally preparing himself for whatever ridiculous story his roommate was about to tell him. 

It’d be interesting, if nothing else. 

[aciddrattboyy]

Hҽ'ʂ Mყ Mαɳ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "obsessed stay at home wife unknowingly poisons her husband over time."

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Kento N. x F! Reader ★ Run Time: 1.5k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Drama] angst? i guess?, obsessive reader thinking, unintentional poisoning altho not explicitly mentioned, thats perty much it ★ heavilyyy based off of hes my man by luvcat its an amazingly beautiful song and i recommend everynyan listens to it

▶▶

drip. drip. drip. 

your perfectly manicured nails tap in rhythm with the leaky faucet against wooden table top where you sat in the dreary kitchen. the room was cast a dark grey, the cloudy skies and setting sun only adding to the sombre ambiance. glancing up at the clock, your frown only deepened.

8:52PM

the clock hands only seemed to mock you further. your husband should have been home by now. where was he? what was he doing? you start scratching at the table almost absentmindedly, the feeling of the wood resisting under your nails somewhat grounding. looking over at the stove, you let out a small huff of frustration. the dinner you had worked so hard on was already going cold. the corners of your lips pulled downwards even more and as you looked at the door you could feel your eyes prick with tears. god where was he?! he should have been home nearly two hours ago. what if he left you? what if he was gone from good?

drip. drip. drip.

with a frustrated grunt, you slam both of your hands against the table, relishing the pain as the wood bites at your skin. some part of you worried momentarily about splinters but that wouldn’t matter as soon as your loving husband came home. he would take care of you, just as he always did. you shoot up from the table, sending the chair flying back with a loud scrape against the tile floor, and walk over to the skin. hands gripping the edge of the counter tight, you tried to calm yourself. tried to calm the aching pain in your chest that felt as if it were threatening to consume you at any moment.

drip. drip. drip.

where was your husband? where the fuck could he be? why wasn’t he home yet? why wasnt he fucking home yet?! a pained noise escapes your lips, eyes screwing shut as you tried to block out the noise. you needed your husband. needed him like the air you breathed or the water you drank. this pain was all encompassing, a weight both physical and mental that seemed to rest on your shoulders. your knees grow weak,  body trembling as you slowly slump to the floor. your chest was already heaving, tears already pooling at the corners of your eyes. 

drip. drip. drip. 

your hands find their way into your hair, tugging at the strands lightly. although you knew it wouldn’t take much longer for you to be at the point of ripping your hair out. you felt empty, cold. you were nothing without your husband, he was everything to you. how could he leave? how could he abandon y-

the door creaks open slowly, the sound of light rain could be heard clearly for a moment until your husband closes the door behind him. you immediately scramble up, eyes wide and a huge smile plastered on your face. that is until you took in his appearance. he looked… tired, and that only made you frown. you never wanted your husband to be tired. he deserved all the rest in the world. scurrying over to him, you help him take off his coat. 

“you’re home,” you breathe out, the tension in your chest slowly ebbing as his familiar scent fills your nostrils and calms your brain. “i missed you. why were you late?” nanami only responds with a huff as he toes off his shoes, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead as he walks deeper inside the small house. his frame seemed… smaller? like he was losing weight. but thats impossible. you made sure to feed him every day!

“my head is killing me y/n. please tell me you made dinner.” nanami flops down onto the worn leather arm chair with a groan, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. without missing a beat, you nod your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“of course honey let me go fix you a plate,” you head off towards the kitchen, humming a random tune as you prepared food for your husband. there was a small smile on your face. you always smiled when nanami was home. it was the only time everything was perfect. thinking about how tired your poor husband looked, you decided to make him some tea as well. he had been having trouble sleeping lately and you’d do anything to help him feel better. “here you go my love,” setting the plate down on the coffee table in front of him, you gingerly handed him his tea, your smile only growing as you watched him blow softly at the steam.

“thank you.” he murmured softly, holding the cup of tea with both hands as he waited for it to cool. the steam made his glasses fog up slightly and you took it upon yourself to push them back up as they slid down the bridge of his nose. nanami smiles up at you then, it’s small, his exhaustion evident on his face. you study his glasses, noticing how the lenses seem to only be getting thicker as the months go by, for reasons both of you didn't know. 

“eat up, i worked extra hard on this meal,” you perch yourself on the armrest of the chair, the worn leather creaking slightly under your weight. you leaned in slightly with a soft hum, running a hand through his blonde hair as he blew on his tea. you watched intently, studying his features, each little movement of the muscles making up his beautiful face. nanami chuckles lightly, glancing up at you briefly before taking a sip of the warm liquid. 

nanami’s nose scrunches slightly as soon as the tea hits his tongue, an odd flavor coating his taste buds. it tasted weird, that same weird he’s been getting used to now over the past few months. you must’ve been using a different blend recently. looking back up at you over the rim of the porcelain cup, seeing you looking down at him as if he was the only man in the world, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you he didn’t want it. so instead, he steeled his mind and sipped more of it past his lips before setting it down to move onto your carefully crafted dinner.

the room was quiet as he ate aside from the sound of utensils hitting the glass plate and the dreaded dripping of the leaky faucet along with the rain that was gradually getting heavier. the room was bathed in a warm orange light from the flower lamp nanami had bought you a year back. you stayed where you were on the armrest, massaging his shoulders and scalp as he ate, content to just work on soothing him. content to be in his presence. 

as soon as his plate was cleared, you get up and grab them before heading to the kitchen. you diligently work on cleaning the dishes. you found peace in the routine, even though none of it mattered when your husband wasnt home. you’d never be at peace when he was away.

you can feel a pair of warm arms wrap around your waist, a low hum leaving your lovers chest as he pressed closer against you from behind. nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck, he places a light kiss to your skin, taking a long moment to just  breathe you in. 

“thank you for dinner love,” he mumbled against your collarbone as he peppered the exposed area with soft kisses. you couldnt help but lean back into his touch, tilting your head lightly to give him better access. but it was over before you knew it, nanami pulling away as he mumbled something about his head still hurting and wanting to get ready for bed. you frown at the reminder that he would be gone tomorrow morning again. the thought of him leaving hurting just as much as always no matter how many times you had to bear it. 

by the time you finish cleaning up the kitchen, nanami has already slipped under the blankets, snoring softly against the silk pillows. the sight made warmth bloom in your chest. he looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, and you were the only one able to see him like this. 

after completing your nightly routine and slipping on your pajamas, you crawl into bed next to him. you scoot in close, your face mere inches away from his as you studied his sleeping face. his cheeks were slightly gaunt, eyebags only growing more prominent as the days went by. it made you upset that he had to go out there and work away, especially since he should be staying home with you. always. 

you move closer, pressing your body against his and holding him close. with a low grumble, nanami wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you as close as possible. pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you murmur a soft ‘goodnight’ before letting yourself drift off in your husbands warm arms, feeling a love so fierce it could consume you both.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[bondwithme-murderstyle]

Who's The Boss? pt.2 aaron hotchner x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

Summary: Aaron Hotchner has some time before heading to Quantico and embarking on his new position within the BAU. He decides that now would be a good time to gather some of his buddies and head off on a vacation to Miami before his life is turned on its head.

warnings: +18, mdni!! vacation setting with explicit descriptions but no physical acts (save that for pt.3), smoking because it's the '90s and this man with a cigarette is my holy grail, a tiny paragraph releasing haley from this story-line, essentially just verbal-foreplay, reader is described as having hair (???) that gets wet in the pool, definitely dom!aaron and his dirty mouth, no use of y/n, not as romantic as my dream had originally perceived him but we'll take what we can get in the moment

an: i am so sorry this had to be split up! freakin' word-limit posts

~When his friends passed you by, they gave small looks- knowing looks that made your heart race. A part of you said that it was now-or-never. To go before his friends returned and gave him hell. But as you prepared to stand and rid yourself of the towel, you glanced over and he was no longer reading. He was back in the pool and looking at you. His brow raised slightly above his frames and he lifted one hand from the water to beckon you over with two fingers.~

Your body screamed, your mind tore itself apart. But you listened. And you met him halfway.

Instead of jumping right into the water, you decided to sit on the edge, half-way between his spot in the sun and yours. Once your legs were submerged up to your knees, he made a half-attempt at swimming across. One long stroke was all it took from him to reach you and you thanked God your sunglasses remained on your face to at least hide some of your excitement. His arms held him up at the edge, his elbow brushing your thigh and it took him a moment to say anything.

“Do you always stare at strangers, stranger?”

“Only when they’re worth staring at.” You answered and swallowed thickly, supporting yourself on the pool edge with your arms polka-straight and your nails wrapping against the tile that washed and flushed with water. “You and your friends always arrange your dates like this, out in the open?”

This made him laugh and look away for a moment, “Yeah, well, they’re idiots!” His choice of words made you feel relaxed. To know that you weren’t in the presence of another idiot. “I’m Aaron. Hotchner.” His head turned to look up at you and extended his hand. You rolled your lips together and decided to just fuck it. You shook his hand politely with a gentle ‘hi’ and resumed kicking your legs gently in the water.

“So, you and your boys are down here blowing off steam?”

“Well, you could say that. It’s summer.”

“And, you don’t have a job in the summer?”

“I’m currently changing positions. Was a prosecutor. Soon to be FBI.”

“Ooh.” A purr escaped you but you remained cool, nodding and looking elsewhere. “Sounds thrilling.”

“We’ll see.” He concurred and turned to lean his back against the wall of the pool, trying to follow your gaze that never quite seemed to settle. “And you’re on vacation too.”

“Mmhmm. Seattle doesn’t get much sun like this. Figured I deserved a real summer-break.” You agreed and gave away your first clue. Your location. Not that Aaron noticed much. He instead scanned the pool-deck and relaxed when he realised his friends had become distant memories. “So, should I call you ‘Agent’?” You tried to tease him.

“Call me whatever you like.” He quipped and turned to face you again, this time right in front of your legs. Your feet ceased their relaxed kicks and his hands worked beneath the water to take hold of your calves and separate them just enough to make space for him. You didn’t know what else to do other than let him wade between your legs and look up at you with a gruff sigh, “What are the odds I’d ever see you again anyway?”

“Slim-to-none. It’s a big country, Agent.” You hummed again and tried to ignore his large hands that had now come to rest on the outside of your thighs. They engulfed your skin and left behind beads of water that cooled instantly in the soft ocean breeze. Your body continued to scream, the heat in your belly even took the liberty of giving little heart-stopping flips every time his fingers moved as he steadied himself in the water.

“So, in the interest of probably never meeting each other again; are we just going to keep on staring or are we going to do something about this, sweetheart?”

Your head stopped panning to each sound around you and you looked down at him now, a perfect position you had found yourself to be in. Sweetheart. You wanted to whine and ask to hear it again. Instead, you smiled at him and his shameless motion.

“Well, Aaron,” You shifted a little closer to the edge but remained to keep your hands to yourself, “I’m assuming that you have something in mind. What, with your friends gone and all. Otherwise you wouldn't have invited me over here.”

“I wasn’t planning to be here when they came back.” He looked up when your legs closed slightly around him, “I wasn’t planning for you to stick around either.”

“Oh?” Your smile remained, albeit a little brighter, “That’s rather presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Forgive me, but you haven’t exactly pushed me out from between your legs since I got here," his head gestured down to the small space between your body and his chest, tongue running along his bottom lip, "In fact, you came closer. Not very presumptuous when everybody knows you want it.” Aaron rolled his lips together completely and he was waiting for you to answer. But you couldn’t. He was right and he knew it. “And we’re in a public setting. So if there was anything else you wanted to do, other than stare at me, you can’t exactly do it here, can you?”

“And you don't want to do something?”

“I can tell you in incredible detail what I’d like to do- what I will do. Hopefully, that'll convince you that I’m right?”

“But, like you said, we’re in public.”

Your counter-argument made him smile and his voice dropped lower, quieter, “And nobody around us can hear me tell you that; I can’t wait to feel you cum… all... over... my... tongue.” His face remained arrogant, his smile permanently small almost as he delivered filthy promises across the space between you. His fingers dug that little bit deeper into your flesh and caused you to gasp and hold your breath. “Nobody here knows that we’re going to go upstairs,” his digits started to drag slightly on your skin, “where I’ll taste every perfect inch of you," he purred at you and the images flashing through your mind would bear no resistance to the reality, "where I'll make you kneel. just for me on your cold room floor,” his head tilted slightly for any sign on your face that this was wrong, “and fuck that pretty little mouth that turned down my friend in favour of me.”

Your lips parted and your eyes widened slightly behind your shades. He had been reading your mind. Aaron took in a breath, leaving his proposition hanging between you both. Had it not been a public setting, you would’ve been in the water with him, eagerly tasting him and feeling those large hands elsewhere. "You'll say thank-you." He reasoned quietly, "Hopefully, you'll say it over... and over again," Aaron came close enough that you could feel his words ricochet like a pinball between your thighs and by now you were pooling, "Because, if you don't, I'll definitely remind you." A few ridiculous words and your body was thrumming, your blood raced as it pulsed through your veins. It was hard to keep your mouth from falling further open and it took every fibre of your being to keep composure by the poolside.

"I-Is that right, Agent?" You asked with a throbbing core and a weak voice, leaning closer to him.

“You’ll give me your room number... And you’ll go upstairs and wait, just as you are,” his massaging touch on your thighs was a perfect chorus to his words, tugging gently with his fingers and pulling just tight enough that you were ready to slip into the water, “for me to convince you, inch by inch.”

You gently bit at your lower lip, cheeks flushed hot and it was agreed. “1219.” You said and this was enough for him to bow his head in a subtle nod and pull away to swim back to his sun-beaten corner of the pool.

[tactical-jellyfish]

The Mistakes That Have Been Made

Part 2.5 (bonus for the people. I think you guys need some good soup, from moi <3)

Warnings!: Angst, angst, and more angst. Reader will be MAD sad for most of this. Poorly-practiced, unhealthy polyamory. Reader will experience a LOT of gender and body dysphoria over the course of this (though I will do my best to keep it gender-neutral throughout, bear with me), but there WILL be comfort over that.

The team dynamics of the 141 have always been messy, ugly things, but this is ugly. You wouldn't wish it on anyone, really.

When you'd walked back to your own room, you'd heard Soap railing the daylights out of Gaz, cussing your name beneath his breath as the other sergeant groaned, high and throaty.

As awful as this feels, at least he's not doing that to you.

Johnny's always been a bit of a... rough bed partner, you know that, he's so eager to get into the heat of it that he never gives himself the time to warm up or cool down. Tends to be so enthusiastic that he doesn't offer much aftercare before he falls asleep, either.

Still, walking past Gaz's room brings back memories of that nasty, sick feeling that follows every intimate experience you've ever had.

It's the feeling that your body is somehow wrong, too tight in some parts and too loose in others, like the very existence of your form is a contradiction that just can't stand a second longer.

The way you hold your laptop shifts, pressing the metal into your chest to somehow remedy this ill. How? You're not sure. It doesn't work very well.

You try to shake it off as you open your door and sit on your bed, but the moans still breach your walls.

God, since when did Gaz sound like that? It feels like it's choking the air out of the room.

You put your best effort toward minding your own business, but you felt like you were losing your mind a half-hour into that endeavor, and instead thumped your fist on the wall, loud enough to send the message. Learning how to sign and trying to ignore... that was simply not a feasible task.

The moaning and creaking stops shortly after, and the sigh you heave is like no others, though you know damn well those two will definitely be pissy with you tomorrow.

Finally.

Plastic buzzing against the "wood" of your nightstand (shitty plywood painted white, as is standard issue) draws your focus away from that, if only for a second.

Heyhey! Do u wanna train together tmrw?? I think you'd do good if you took it easy w/me 😊 <33

The rubber and plastic of your case isn't all that comfortable in your hands, but you hold the magical little glass box in your hands anyway, peering down at the screen before chuckling to yourself.

Why should I?

Is your reply. It doesn't strike you that it might have been a bit on the nose, or that Gary might have read it differently, until the text bubble appears and disappears several times in a row, and you re-read it.

Oh no, you sound like an absolute asshole.

Sorry. I do want to, I just wanted to tease.

He's typing for another few seconds, before the bubble disappears one more time, and it starts to make you panic. More than you want to be panicking over him.

Don't be mad please, I'm sorry. I want to train with you.

How the mighty have fallen.

Look at you, desperately prostrating yourself before a rookie because you're absolutely moronic, praying that he'll offer you a reply. Whatever happened to four times the love?

Fuck. Don't think about that.

im not mad, ur fine just thought you might be a little grouchy from the meds or smth, wasnt sure if i should ask

You breathe a real sigh of relief at the returned messages, already more than tired by the day, but slightly soothed as you look down at the blue light of the screen, and send your last message of the day.

I'll see you at 0630. Goodnight.

A little red heart appears over your message, in the top left corner of the rounded bubble.

You plug in your phone and try to ignore how something in your chest squeezes at being deemed worthy of making plans more than two hours in advance.

It's a shockingly new thing, but goodness does it feel good, even if it brings on a sting of a more somber feeling.

Gaz and Soap sure as fuck didn't do this. Ghost either. You never expected Price to do that for you in the first place. Did they just... not think you were enough to make plans for? Was this pity?

You try to shake off the feeling as you bunch your blankets around your body, allowing your tired form to sink into the mattress and rest. The morning will clear your thoughts.

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