#and since streaming's gonna start sooner i really should sleep sooner..

[darklyndivinely]

Mirrors of Night - A Regret So Deep

Fandom(s) - Obey Me!

Character(s) - Lucifer

Warnings - Angst and sad!Luci

Wordcount - 600+

A/N - I've wanted to write this for a while. And tbh idk what this is. Originally this was supposed to be a letter but it ended up being a diary entry instead. I wanted it to be more angsty but *shrugs* maybe I'll make this a series or something, tell me if you'll like that. Also please don't ask me about the title, I just wanted it to be that. Enjoy a father's agony!

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September 15, 2022. 2:32 AM

It has been a while since I’ve written an entry like this. Events leading to emotional turmoil have been rare, but today I couldn’t resist penning down my thoughts.

While going through the trunk in my room I came across many of our family albums. One in particular really pushed me across the stream of memories. It was filled with Satan’s childhood pictures. He is so young in them, naïve, free. His eyes big with curiosity and mischief. I suppose that is something that time has been unable to change. He’s still just as curious and naughty.

Looking through them affected me more than I had anticipated. I have clicked many of these pictures, flipped through this album a dozen times, and yet, today, upon going through it again all the emotions swept over me with a frenzy.

There’s so much happiness in these pictures, moments of genuine laughter frozen in time. All of us look so young, less weary and coiled. And yet, there’s also a sadness in these captured memories. A raw grief recognizable in every alternate picture. A grief that is very much like mourning.

When Satan had been born, more than five millennia ago, I had felt no love for him. I was in pain and aching severely, I had also been in anger but by then Satan had taken and absorbed most of it. In the absence of that explosive emotion all that was left was guilt and my raw and bleeding soul. We had failed and fallen into a realm so different than what we were used to. We had been condemned and cast away and it was all my fault. I didn’t know how to cope with that.

For a while the date of his birth was synonymous with pain. He, himself, was synonymous with pain. A living, breathing reminder of all we had lost, all we had become. For a while the sight of his full grin and bright eyes were the trigger to the phantom pain in my scars. The sight of him used to tear open the scars of wings he had been shaped from. He was the personification of the wretched horns on my head, the dark color of my wings, the filthy thing I had become.

Then, with time, things changed. The searching touch of his fingers on my eyes didn’t seem so annoying anymore and his wheezes of joy became the reason I woke up every day. Reading bedtime stories to lull him to sleep became a peaceful tradition and the sight of the excited swishing of his tail started to bring me immense joy. He loved the bumps on my horns and feel of my feathers against his palm, and so I started to appreciate this new existence I had been granted.

There was still a glaring chasm of loneliness in all of us, the absence of our eighth member was consuming. Satan lessened it though, that loneliness that we were all drunk on. Recognizing that same loneliness in these pictures brings me regret now. I should have savored the closeness of him sooner, not spent so much time despising his mere existence. He was but a child, my child.

Today we are farther apart than I could have ever fathomed. So much distance separates us, animosity like no other piercing it. Sometimes, I wonder exactly when we fell apart. When exactly did all the love turn into such bitterness.

At the end of the day, however, he is family. Child or brother, he will always be family. Protected from afar. Loved from afar. I just wish things were different. I just wish I were different.

Like this? Leave a tip as appreciation! My entrance results are gonna be out soon so any help is appreciated <3 Also fill this to be notified on my future works.

[helliontherapscallion]

Catching Up (Adrenaline Junkie Part 9)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 2,156         

“Did you kidnap a child?”

“I can ex- wait what? Of course I didn’t! Why would you think that?”

“Well, for starters, you just came home with a random kid! What were-”

“Dad. I didn’t kidnap anybody, especially Arthur,” you said exasperated. “It started when I was leaving the village.”

And so, you told your dad about how you met Arthur. Needless to say, he was furious. “(Y/n) (m/n) Minecraft, you yelled at a child? Not just a child, but an orphan that was so clearly in need of help?! I raised you better than that.”

“Dad, I know that yelling at kids is wrong. Just-just let me finish.”

He gave you a wicked side eye and nodded at you to continue. “So then he told me that he was alone. That he had no family. I couldn’t just leave him out there Dad. He would’ve been alone in the city. Hell, he’s been alone for god knows how long already” you ran a stressed hand through your already messy hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if he could crash here-”

“(Y/n).”

“-but he could’ve got hurt! The village’s dangerous at night-”

“(Y/n).”

“Do you know how many people get mugged there just in a day? God, I can’t imagine him getting hurt, he’s so young and-”

“(Y/n) (m/n) Minecraft.” Your hand froze in your hair. “...Yeah?”

“It was a good idea to bring him here. But there’s gotta be someone out there looking for him.”

“I really don’t think so Dad. You saw him when I brought him here, he looked like he didn’t get a proper bath in months! Even if he did have someone, I’d rather him be here instead of with the bastards that left him like that.”

He sighed. “You’re right. I remember when I found you when you were a baby. Your biological parents were awful, they ignored you. I found you on the porch, they must’ve left you there overnight. You were filthy and you were so small and fragile. I remember being so pissed that they treated you like that, but they never gave me their names.”

You squinted at him. “You’ve never told me that. You told me that you found me in an alleyway.”

“I didn’t want to tell you how I actually found you, it was never important for you to know.”

“What do you mean it’s not impor-” you stopped yourself. That’s not important right now. “We’re going to talk about this later. Right now, we need to talk about Arthur before he gets out of the shower.”

Glancing at the clock, you felt worry engulf your being. “Speaking of, he’s been in there a while, do you think he’s okay?” You felt your heart drop. “What if he slipped!” You stood up in a panic. Philza pulled you back onto the bed giving you a knowing look.

“He’s okay hun. Remember, he’s probably just enjoying the shower.”

You bounced your leg. “You’re right, you’re right… What’s with that look?”

“What look?”

“That look.”

“I just think-”

You heard a knock on your door and a small voice calling your name. Immediately jumping up and forgetting about the conversation, you opened your door. 

“Hey buddy, have a good shower?”

He yawned, rubbing at his eye with a closed fist. The pajamas he wore were slightly too big, but he would grow into them. His auburn hair that he came in the house with was now a brilliant copper color and you could now make out freckles dotting his pale cheeks.

“Mhm.”

You softly smiled at him and grabbed his hand leading him to Wilbur’s old room since it had the comfiest bed. You helped the small-statured boy into the large bed and he flopped down without pulling the covers over himself. You huffed in amusement, pulling the soft blankets out from under him and tucking him in.

You spoke in a calm voice, not wanting to disrupt the peace that engulfed the room. You gently brushed the hair out of his face. “Sleep well, Artie.”

As you stood up and turned to walk away, he grabbed the back of your shirt. Glancing back, you saw that he had his eyes groggily half-open and he stared at you blearily. “Stay?”

Oh, you couldn’t say no to that. Feeling your heart melt, you whispered “of course buddy.” You pulled up an old chair and sat next to the bedside holding his small hand in your larger one. He was out like a light. 

He was so small for his age. It was probably because of the malnutrition from being homeless, and that broke your heart. Your poor, poor baby.

…Wait.

Wait.

Your poor baby? What the fuck were you thinking? This child doesn’t even know you, you only met him earlier in the day. And yet, you already felt affectionate towards him. You wanted to protect him from danger. Why were you feeling like this?

You heard the door creak open and a small sliver of light streamed into the room. Philza poked his head through the small crack in the door. He smiled at you when he saw you sitting next to Arthur holding his hand as he slept. Reaching in an arm, he gestured for you to follow him before slipping out and closing the door.

Reluctantly, you slowly let go of the boy’s slender hand and quietly opened the nightstand drawer. You pulled out a pen and paper and wrote a quick note for him in the morning in your messy handwriting.

“Arthur, when you wake up, Philza and I’ll be downstairs making breakfast. Hope you like bacon and eggs : )

-(Y/n)”

You placed the paper on the nightstand where you hoped that Arthur would see when he woke up and quietly left the room. Philza leaning against the wall greeted you. He was smiling softly at you. He once again gestured for you to follow him downstairs.

Philza felt ecstatic that you were going to give him another grandson. Even if you would inevitably deny being a parental figure to Arthur, he knew that you were going to accept it sooner or later. He raised you, so he should know when you deeply care for someone. Arthur and you both shared a love for innovation and creativity, so he knew that you two would bond over that. He felt like soaring high in the sky. He was so happy that there’s going to be another addition to the family soon. 

He sat you down onto the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. A few moments later, he came back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Your favorite.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime hun.”

You both sat in a comfortable silence on the couch and stared into the crackling flame in the fireplace. The fire swirled with various reds, oranges, and yellows illuminating the living room. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the flavor of the chocolate and the smell of smoke with the fire popping in the background. You felt relaxed.

“So, how’s Tommy and Wilbur? Are they adjusting well to L’manberg?”

“Oh, they’re thriving. Wilbur’s a natural leader so he’s in his element and Tommy’s always exploring with Tubbo. They get into trouble sometimes, but they always come back in one piece, so I’m not worried about them. They’re having fun.”

“And you?”

“I set up my new workshop next to the capitol building. I think I’m gonna start selling some of the stuff I make, I think it’d make a decent profit.”

“I think that’s a great idea. Ya know that the people in the village are crazy about you, right?”

You groaned, dragging your hand down your face tiredly. “How could I not? I hate it.”

“Why would you hate it? They really admire your work, you should appreciate that.”

“Dad, I do appreciate that they admire my work, but do you remember how they treated me when I first went there after I lost my wing? They treated me like a fucking outcast. And now they’re acting like they actually know me and that they were always friends with me. I know everybody deserves a second chance, but I can’t help but feel like they’re on thin ice.” 

“People change hun. Maybe they realize that how they treated you was wrong and they want to make amends?”

“That’s the thing. They’re only treating me like this only because of my inventions. I can only tolerate it for so long. I don’t even know why they’re treating me like this, I’m not special. I’m just another person.”

“...You aren’t gonna let a few two-faced people ruin your vacation, right?”

“No.”

His cheeks slowly stretched into a smile. “Why? Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n)?”

“I said who. Are. You?”

You spoke up a little more confidently, but kept your voice down. “I’m (y/n) (m/n) Minecraft.”

He quietly laughed. “Damn right you are. You’re ‘(Y/n) Minecraft, Conqueror of the Unknown’. You’re (y/n) goddamn Minecraft and don’t you forget it.”

You chuckled. “You read that book? ‘(Y/n) Minecraft, Conqueror of the Unknown’ was a bit too dramatic for my taste.”

“Why wouldn’t I read something all about my precious little inventor?” He drug out with an overly sweet tone.

“Dad, I’m 20 years old. I’m not little anymore.”

He slung an arm across your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “I know, I know, but you’ll always be my child.”

You sighed and leaned into him. You haven’t spent any time with him since you left the house to help Wilbur and Tommy fight for independence, so this felt nice. “I missed you Dad.”

“Not a day goes by where I don’t miss you or your brothers. It’s way too quiet around here without you four.”

“Do you remember when Tommy put green dye in the shampoo to try and prank me?”

An almost silent laugh reverberated throughout his chest, sounding slightly muffled. “Of course I do. It took at least a few weeks to get it off my skin and a full month after that to get it out of my hair.”

“You should’ve seen his face when I walked into the kitchen in the morning,” you deepen your voice. “‘If you’re not in the shower, then who is?’ Aaaannd then you walked into the kitchen looking like you lost a fight with a witch.” You snorted. “You didn’t know why everyone was staring at you.”

He huffed. “You guys didn’t even tell me until after breakfast.”

“Have you seen yourself in the mornings? You’re literally so grumpy. We didn’t have a death wish.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad in the morning, Mx. I-can’t-function-without-eight-hours-of-sleep.”

“At least I’m fully awake in the morning.”

“Oh, wow, what a zinger,” he said in a monotone voice.

You reached up to playfully slap his arm. “Shuddup.”

You both quietly laughed before the room fell back into a comfortable silence. You took a deep breath. “Arthur knows about The Warden. What it did to me”

You felt him tense up and heard his heart start to beat a little faster. He moved his arm away and leaned back to look you in the eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He said that he knew what happened and he needed my help. He… he said that The Warden took someone important to him.”

“Was it his paren-”

“I don’t know. I’m going to talk to him about it tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to talk to him with you?”

“I don’t know if Arthur’s comfortable with that yet. I’m not even sure if he trusts me enough to tell me.”

You grabbed your’s and Philza’s empty mugs and took them to the kitchen. You ran your hands down your face. You felt very drained after everything that happened today. You weren’t used to so much human interaction, let alone people staring at you like you were some kind of deity when you weren’t. You leaned against the sink and closed your eyes. 

“(Y/n), I’m turning in for the night. Is there anything you need before I go to bed?”

“No, thank you Dad.”

“Alright, goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You heard his retreating footsteps gradually fade out and the room was thick with silence yet again. The darkness in the room was cut by the moonlight streaming in through the window. Your mind was racing as you remembered that you were going to have to talk to Arthur about The Warden soon. 

You hadn’t talked about The Warden for years and now you were being forced into it. You didn’t think you were ready. You wanted to move on with your life, but The Warden was inevitable. It was everywhere around you. It won’t ever leave you alone, will it?

You didn’t think you were going to get much sleep tonight.

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[akingdomofswordsandstories]

Unrequited pt. 2

azriel (acotar) x reader

*this is part 2! Sorry for the wait guys! I really struggled with this and low-key I don’t like it but I hope y'all do! I wanna write the scenes after this but idk how im gonna make it work lol. anyway, enjoy!

word count: 3193

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

What you hadn’t realized was that Azriel left a few minutes later, walking to your apartment to make sure you had gotten home safe.

All of a sudden he heard whimpers and labored breathing coming from the alley.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you laying on the ground and bleeding out. He felt a tug in his chest. A click. Panic instilled in him as he gently but swiftly picked you up and flew you to Madja.

“Hang on y/n, you’re so strong” he whispered

In those moments, he feared for you. Fear that was so strong. Something he had never felt before.

He rushed into the house laying you on the bed gently before he was shoved out by the Madja so she could try to save you.

Azriel alerted the others and then collapsed into a chair, sitting in silence. A tear slipped out of his eye at the thought he may have been too late to save you.

You. His mate.

Why, of all the times did the bond have to click while you were on the brink of death. In a situation where you may not make it out alive. It wasn’t fair.

He wondered if you had known. Could that be the reason why you had been distancing yourself from him? Because you didn’t expect or want him to be your mate? But if you had known you would’ve said something, right? You wouldn’t keep it a secret? So many thoughts kept racing through his head.

Could it have been because of Elain? He knew the inner circle wasn’t stupid, they all saw him drifting more and more to Elain. Could that have been why you had distanced yourself? He would be lying if he said he didn’t like Elain, but he would also be lying if he said he didn’t like you.

Your stubbornness. Your generosity. Your sense of adventure. The way you could get lost in the things you did.

Suddenly the door swung open and the others came into the room, worry written all over their faces.

Azriel could tell that Cassian and Mor had been crying on the way there.

“How bad is it?” Mor shook as she spoke. You could see the pain in her eyes. The worry she had for someone who was basically her sister.

Azriel’s expression was unreadable and he didn’t respond.

“Do you think she will make it?” Feyre asked, grief evident in her posture. “I- I don’t know” Azriel answered, “It was pretty bad,” he said quietly.

Just as he answered, Madja appeared from the other room. “She’s in rough shape, I don’t know if she’s gonna make it through the night. She lost a lot of blood.”

The room grew eerily quiet

“She’s stable for now, but I will stay here and notify you if any changes occur.”

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

Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain went back to the townhouse to try and get as much rest as they could. Mor, Cassian, and Azriel decided to stay in your room with you.

Tears started slipping from Cassian’s eyes once he saw your fraile body lying in bed, barely hanging on.

“Oh mother” Mor sobbed out, a hand slipping over her mouth. She went over to the bed you were on, gently sitting on it and grabbing to hold your hand. She leaned against the headboard and watched as your chest heaved.

The trio sat in silence for some time, watching your every move, your breathes, whimpers, and shifts.

Azriel broke the silence.

“She’s my mate. All this time and I never knew.”, the sentence coming out as a whisper.

Shock was painted on Mor’s face. “Y/n’s your mate? How di-? When?”

“It clicked when I saw her body lying there.” his voice started breaking “Why did it have to happen right now. Of all the times. Why couldn’t it have happened months ago. I could’ve had more time. This never would have happened. How do I move on from this?” his voice ending on a whisper.

“All you can do is hope to mother that she has the strength to pull through.” Cassian replied softly. “You know, this whole situation is so ironic.”, he said softly to himself, lightly shaking his head.

Azriel gave Cassian a look of confusion, wondering what he was talking about, but decided to drop it for now.

“Anyway, let’s try to get some sleep and pray the morning holds better news”

Mor had dozed off, back against the headboard and hand still holding yours. Cassian was sitting in the chair, head resting on the palm of his head, it still took him a few hours to fall asleep completely. Azriel, however, couldn’t sleep. The thought of sleeping while you laid like this. He felt guilty, the feeling that he may have been too late. For the rest of the night, Azriel sat in a chair next to your bed, shrouded in darkness, hoping you would be ok.

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

Sunlight peeked through the sheer blinds over the balcony door. The faint sound of birds singing flowed through the air. Light shined onto your face, causing you to groan. Groggily, you opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the light filling the room. Your head pounded and you winced as you shifted in bed.

“Y/n?” you heard a whisper. You mumbled in response. “Oh! Thank mother you’re alright! We were all so worried for you. Wait, let me call Madja now that you’re up.” Mor rambled on causing you to smile slightly. “CASSIAN!” she squealed “Wake up! Look! Y/n is awake!”

Cassian jumped to his feet at her shout. “Oh my god!” he ran over to your side “I was so worried, I’m so glad you’re alright” he said, taking your hand into his. “Let me go call the others, they’ve been waiting for an update.”

Soon after, the rest of the inner circle came over to your room to check in and Madja came to see how you were healing.

“That was quite the wound you had. Make sure to rest for the next two weeks. No buts, we don’t want this opening back up from stress or straining activity.”. You groaned at the thought.

“But I feel fine now, it’s not a big deal! I can go back to doing my duties in 2 days. I’ll be good as new.” you pleaded, trying to convince Madja and yourself. Before she could respond, Rhys cut in.

“You will do nothing of the sort. You just got stabbed for cauldrons sake, if i catch you trying to do anything remotely straining, i’ll lock you in your room and have Cassian stand guard in front of it”

“Fine” you grumbled out

“Now that everything is settled, i’ll be coming to check on you every few days.” Madja states before leaving

After a little more small talk was exchanged, the inner circle decided to leave you to rest a bit more, but promised they would visit you as frequently as they could.

Except, one person stayed behind.

Azriel.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Is something wrong?” you asked

After a hesitant pause his voice rang out. “We’re mates.”

You felt a blow to your chest. When did he find this out? As if Azriel had read your thoughts, he responded “Last night. After I found you.”

“Oh”

“But, Cassian said something, how it was ironic, and I can’t help but wonder how long you’ve known”

“I-, I told Cassian that we were mates yester-”

“But how long have you known y/n.” his voice quiet and sharp as a knife, as if tendrils of anger were waiting to escape

“Since the diplomatic mission Rhys sent us on”, you whispered. You could feel the tears threatening to fall from your eyes

“That was months ago and you didn’t think to tell me?” You could feel the anger in his voice

“I thought you would have figured it out sooner. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry” tears started falling from your eyes

“You knew and said nothing. Why didn’t you say anything? You should have said something” he seethed. His anger was unhinged, a drastic change for the usually calm and collected shadowsinger.

“If you didn’t want to be my mate just tell me. I’d be glad to be rid of the bond.”. As soon as he said it, he regretted it. His anger dissipated. He looked up and saw your face, tears streaming down.

“I see the way you look at Elain, Azriel. I’m not some stupid fucking female. How do you think it feels to see your mate all over someone else. I wanted to give you a chance to find your own happiness without me burdening you with this. And if we’re being honest, if you had to choose between me or her, you would choose her. I knew you would be disappointed by me. I knew you wouldn’t want to be my mate, that's why I didn’t tell you.” your anger started boiling up. “Do you think it feels good to be rejected, especially by someone you’ve loved for a long time? I didn’t want you to be disappointed that I was your mate, the person you’ve waited so long for.” your voice tapered off at the end. “Can you leave please” you said softly

“No, wait, I’m sorry I-“

“Azriel. Get out.” your voice boomed through the room.

He left reluctantly, softly shutting the door behind him. Just as the door shut, the sobs that you had been desperately trying to hold back broke free. Your body shuddered as you hugged yourself, crying yourself back to sleep.

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

During the following weeks, you avoided Azriel at all costs. As soon as he walked into the room, you would walk out. Any required conversations were kept short. You did anything you could to keep your mind off of him, cleaning, errands, hell you did it all. It certainly didn’t help your recovery, but you did what you could to keep your mind busy and off of Azriel.

“Y/n stop please. You need to rest, how many times do we have to tell you. You’re only making the healing process longer” Mor ranted on.

“I’m fine, I doubt a wound, which is almost healed by the way, would be damaged by me doing chores” you emphasized as you rolled your eyes

“Maybe not by chores, but it is affected by your stress”

A moment of silence passed.

“He feels terrible, you know, he didn’t mean to say it. He just wants to talk to you.”. Mor didn’t risk saying his name because she knew it would only anger you more.

“Well I don’t want to talk to him, or deal with him, or see him, or think about him. At all.”. You grumbled. Your heart clenched, but you brushed it aside.

“Y/n, please. I love you two and it hurts to see our family like this right now.”

“Please, can we drop it, I-“ your voice cracked

“Yeah, of course. Just… keep an open mind, maybe?”

“Yeah, ok” you looked down.

“I’ll see you later tonight then, for Rhys and Feyre’s dinner party.”

“Sounds good.”. You pressed your lips into a tight smile as you watched Mor walk off. You had definitely contemplated not going today. All of the inner circle certainly knew what happened, maybe not all the details, but still enough, which made you feel exposed. You weren’t use to having your emotions splayed out to everyone like that, and it made you too vulnerable. However, Mor had threatened to pull you to the party herself if you refused to go, so being complicit seemed like the best option.

It was just one night. You would be fine… right?

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

It was nearing 8 as you finished getting ready for the party, which started at 8:30. You were wearing an olive green silk midi dress. It wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was still very elegant. And comfortable. You were touching up as Mor arrived.

“Ah, there she is, beautiful as ever.”

“I could say the same about you, darling” you emphasized

“Are you ready to go, I heard the party is getting started, and you know I wouldn’t want to miss all the cocktails”

A laugh mused on your face. You grabbed your purse before the pair of you winnowed to the house.

You arrived at the front door, scanning the scene when you got there. It was a cozy ballroom with french doors which opened up to a huge balcony leading to the gardens. There was a huge dining table in the center with plenty of space to mingle in clusters.

You hadn’t spotted Azriel yet, a sigh of relief leaving your body. You strutted in, arms linked with Mor, grabbing a drink off the platter. You weren’t even sure who or what this party was for, but you realized you had downplayed it after spotting Helion and Tarquin. The high lords in Velaris. But that was the least of your concerns, the only thing you were focused on was avoiding Azriel.

Spotting Feyre near Helion, you breezed over to say hi.

“Ah! Y/n! Helion, i’m sure the two of you have met a few times before!” Feyre smiled out

“Yes, I do remember you! I heard about what happened, how are you feeling?” He asked

“Much better than the last few weeks, that’s for sure. Although I must say, this alcohol is certainly helping” you giggled. “Well I just wanted to pop over and say hi, but I think I’m gonna go find Cassian now. It was so nice to see you again Lord Helion, enjoy your evening.”

“You too Miss Y/L/N”

You dipped your head towards the both of them before making your way through the room to find Cassian. Where was he for caldrons sake. You hadn’t seen him in a week because he had to go up to the illyrian war camps again. Pushing your way through the crowd, you bumped into a hard chest, spilling your champagne. Cursing to yourself, you started to apologize.

“Oh mother, I’m so so sorry, clums-“. Looking up your y/e/c eyes met strong hazel ones, which were burning into your soul. You felt your throat close up, starting to feel trapped in the crowed room

No no no no. This couldn’t be happening. Not now.

You knew it was only a matter of time before you would have to talk to him, but you couldn’t do it now. Before he could say a word, you pushed past him and bolted out to the balcony to get some fresh air. You had run to the corner, near the steps to the garden, out of sight from others. Taking deep breaths, you calmed your nerves. You would be ok, everything was fine. It would be fine. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

You decided to quickly go grab another drink before returning to the serenity outside. Leaning against the balcony, you stared out at the stars and the gardens. They were so beautiful, even in the winter, you thought to yourself. You basked in the silence, your thoughts drowning you.

Some time had passed before you heard footsteps approaching you on the balcony. You knew who it was without having to turn around, but you still couldn’t bear to be around him. You turned to leave but his hand caught your wrist, holding it firmly. You could feel the scars from his hands against your skin.

“Please. I just want to talk”

“What’s there to talk about Azriel, you made your feelings clear that day.”

“Just listen, please, and then i’ll leave you alone if that’s what you wish”

You sighed, nodding your head in defeat. You couldn’t keep balling up your emotions.

He led you back to the railing of the balcony before his grasp left your wrist. You tilted your head down looking at your feet and fiddling with your thumb.

“I spent 500 years pining after Mor because I was so afraid of maybe having a chance at love. I thought it was best to love someone who would never love me back so I wouldn’t get hurt. Then I met Elain. She helped me to open up more, and helped me to believe that happiness would be possible for me, with someone. I had given up on the idea of having a mate. I didn’t think I deserved one. I was ok with that and had accepted that.”

He let out a breath as he ran his hand through his hair, light curls falling onto his forehead. “When I saw you lying there and the bond clicked, I was so mad at myself. I shut out the possibility of having a mate for so long. You were my mate. My mate. I never thought I would be able to say those words.”

He paused.

“I was mad that you may not make it. I was mad that I didn’t find you soon enough. I was mad that we didn’t have more time. I didn’t know what to do or how to feel. I Just wanted you to be ok. And then when you told me that you had known for so long, I was angry. Angry that I hadn’t realized sooner, and angry that you kept it from me because you may not have wanted me or expected me to be your mate. And I snapped. Then you said the thing that I had least expected. You said you had loved me” He chuckled dryly. “I am so sorry, y/n, so very sorry.”.

His hand reached down to cup your face. He jerked your head up so you were looking at him. “What i’m trying to say is that I love you, but I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore”.

The air had been knocked from your lungs. Your heart swelled and your eyes watered. Before you had realized what you were doing, your lips crashed into his. His mouth fit perfectly against yours. He was a breath of fresh air with a hint of mint. Azriel’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you into his body and he smiled against your lips. It felt so right. Everything about it. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you both pulled away, breathless. Your forehead rested against his.

You whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“I love you too”. As soon as the words left your mouth, he pulled you in for another kiss, his wings forming a cocoon around you. This one was more demanding. Passionate. A promise. You pulled away from his mouth and leaned against him, his arms wrapping around you.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Azriel said. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small black box. “It’s your Solstice gift, I was trying to find a good time to give it to you.”, he scratched the back of his head.

You gently took it from his hand. The box had a red ribbon wrapped around. Undoing the ribbon, You opened the box to find one of the beautiful necklaces you had been admiring with Mor. “Oh my Az. Its so beautiful. I love it. How did you know?”

“I may have had my shadows follow everyone around to find out what they wanted.” he laughed out.

You smiled. “Will you help me put it on?”. Handing the dainty chain to Azriel, you brushed you hair aside. Baring your neck to him. His fingers ghosted the soft skin, clasping the necklace together. He tenderly placed a kiss next to your ear, causing butterflies to erupt.

You cleared your throat. “I think we’ve been gone long enough. Would you like to get some food, Azriel?” you smiled.

“I would love to, my darling mate.” he paused before darkly saying “I am especially excited for the part that comes after I eat.”. You lightly smacked his shoulder before the two of you made your way inside, beaming.

taglist ---

@minnie-mitzel @itsbebeyyy @preciousbabymuffins @kexrtiz @vicisbookishblog @peneflop @millianec @agentsofsheilds 

[satendou]

⟼ suna rintarou

⍣ cockwarming mini series | previous: iwaizumi | next: hanamaki | 3/?

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: suna/reader

⇢ au: aged up!au

⇢ summary: suna is annoyed

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation

⇢ word count: 716

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: if you wanna see a particular character or situation sooner rather than later, let me know.

“hey, rin,” you ask tentatively, shuffling your feet as you stand before him. he barely spares you a glance, humming to let you know he’s listening though. “how much longer are we gonna be here?”

only then does suna look at you properly, eyes traveling from your flustered face down your body, taking in the way you fidget with the hem of the short skirt you’re wearing. your thighs are clenched together and suna instantly realizes why you’re asking.

“really? can’t even handle a few hours without my cock?” he asks, drawing the words out. he doesn’t bother to keep his voice down, gaining the attention of the twins sitting on the couch across from him.

atsumu snickers behind his hand but osamu rolls his eyes, returning to the game the three of them had been playing for hours now.

you feel heat flood your face, head bowing even further as you shake your head. “it isn’t that, i--”

“no?” suna drawls, not even setting his controller to the side. the game starts up again at your back, the sounds of buttons being pressed mixing with the music. “so if i were to reach into your panties, you wouldn’t be soaked already?”

you can’t answer that, instead staring at your feet, hoping this will be over soon. when you asked, you should have expected this, and you know suna knows it.

“i bet you were hoping this would happen,” he says, watching the way you shrink in on yourself. he heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes-- which you miss because you’re still studying your sock covered toes-- before he unzips his shorts. “come here then, since you wanna act like a needy little slut. you’ll just keep whining otherwise.”

the game is paused behind you again, atsumu and osamu watching you, waiting for you to make a move. on one hand, you know if you refuse that you’ll just piss suna off but on the other, getting openly fucked in front of the twins is so humiliating you aren’t sure you can handle it.

“i’m not gonna wait all day, princess,” he says, and the familiar pet name is so condescending you want to cry. “you either hop on or you won’t get anything. if you were so worried about atsumu and osamu seeing, you should’ve kept your mouth shut.”

you know he’s serious so, with shaking fingers, you push your panties down, letting them pool at your ankles while trying to keep yourself covered with your skirt. you aren’t sure why at least atsumu hasn’t said anything yet, but you assume it has something to do with osamu.

screwing your eyes shut, you go to straddle suna’s lap only for his hand to clamp on your hip, tutting you. 

“no, i don’t think so. i don’t wanna hear you whining in my ear. face the tv.”

you have the distinct feeling he’s doing this so the twins can see you, watching the shame covering your face as you sink down on his cock. you make a noise in the back of your throat, clapping your hands over your mouth to stifle anymore as he forces you to take him to the hilt in one stroke.

“i fuckin’ knew it,” he hisses, hand squeezing your hip so tight it hurts. “you’re soaked. you little slut.”

you whine at his words, trying to lift yourself up off his cock despite the audience, but he won’t let you.

“you’ll have to get yourself off without moving,” he says, pressing start on the game again. the only sign that he’s being affected by any of this is the higher pitch of his voice. otherwise, he’s playing the game perfectly, running circles around the npcs. “don’t make me lose.”

you can’t help it-- you look over at atsumu and osamu. both of them seem completely uninterested in the fact that you’re openly sitting on suna’s cock, already creaming around him just from being filled.

stuffing your fingers in your mouth, you let your hands trail up your thighs, trying to ignore the sounds of battle going on on the tv. he feels so good inside you, twitching and throbbing, grazing every sweet spot inside you without even moving. your fingers graze over your clit and you clench down around him, hips jerking against your will.

suna hisses behind you, causing osamu and atsumu to turn and look at you, a small smirk rising up on the latter’s face. his eyes follow the movement of your hand beneath your skirt, heat creeping up your neck in embarrassment at his staring.

“well, if you’re going to act like this, may as well give ‘em a show,” suna says, and flips your skirt up to expose your stretched cunt. you spasm around him, covering your eyes with your hand. your fingers stop moving but it doesn’t matter because suna has given up the game as a lost cause and takes their place. “you really are such a slut. i felt you tighten up, you know.”

you hate the condescension in his tone, hate how it makes you so wet, hate how it drives you closer to your orgasm. there are tears in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks, your hips moving on suna’s cock in slow circles, dragging across your slick walls. you’re going to come in front of the twins while suna whispers things in your ear that make your pussy throb and more tears sting your eyes.

“you gonna come on my cock in front of them?” he asks, fingers pressing harder against your clit while his other hand keeps you planted flush against his hips. his chin is resting on your shoulder, looking more bored than he would if he was watching the news while you squirm against his hold. “go on then, might as well. ‘m gonna have to punish you later, though. what a hassle.”

you aren’t sure if it’s the way his cock throbs inside you at the mention of punishment or if it’s the fact that you know suna’s punishment is going to leave you unable to walk for the rest of the weekend, but you find yourself tumbling over the precipice of your orgasm before you realize it’s on you.

you stifle your scream with your hand as suna’s fingers rub more furiously, drawing out your orgasm and tipping it over into painful. your toes curl, feet locking around the back of his calves as you fall back into his chest.

“‘rin, ‘rin please, no more,” you whine, trying to squirm away from his fingers. “please, please, please.”

you forget for a moment that you have an audience until atsumu whistles low, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline while he smirks. “that was quite a show, suna. got anything else?”

the hem of your skirt is flipped down again, covering you up before your partner picks up his controller again. “maybe later. let’s finish this game.” to you he he adds, “turn around.”

you do as told, quickly scrambling around so you’re straddling his hips like you first wanted to, only to be forced down on his cock once again, keening at the almost painful pleasure. you can’t imagine the mess all over his shorts and thighs, knowing that’s going to earn you yet another punishment, that he has to ride home like that. 

but you can’t think about that right now-- your eyes are feeling heavy, fluttering closed as you hide your face in his neck, hands pinned against his stomach. your breathing evens out before you even realize you’re falling asleep, resting your full weight against his chest.

his arms lock around your back, fingers flying over the buttons through muscle memory, before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. his focus returns to the game, shifting a little every time your walls flutter around him in your sleep. he isn’t sure if he’ll make it home without fucking you first, but the twins have a spare room and you’ll be nice and refreshed after your little nap.

smirking against your hair, he watches atsumu’s character die on the screen. they probably wouldn’t be opposed to another show.

⇥ masterlist

⍣ cockwarming mini series | previous: iwaizumi | next: hanamaki

[barnesbabee]

𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮 - 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵

|| ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ⇜ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - 21

⟿ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: No sensible person would turn down their boss if they looked good as good as Seonghwa. But maybe they would wish they had…

⟿ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ: CEO!Seonghwa x reader, bestfriend!Yunho x reader || Social Media!AU || no gender specified for the reader

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: (send me a DM or an ask to be added) @ateezappreciation @shinyddeonghwa @lilithpooped @cloudyyeonnie@yeosangmystar @wooyoung-a @sanisms @mingismoon @lovelyvitamin @anawwyd @annasbannas @im-just-trying-to-survive-man @uglychildd @oddlittlefandomist @hwahomie @jin-neck-shaft @lovelyvitamin @yeosangmystar @skmoonchild @lovelymultiwrites @sunwooyoung

Panic settled in the room as Seonghwa's words echoed in your heads. Yunho was dead, Mingi disappeared, San wasn't waking up and the body was gone.

And meanwhile, you were getting railed in Seonghwa's office. You felt sick to your stomach, not knowing what to do, or where to even start.

"Someone say something!" Jongho yelled, at the top of his lungs, finally breaking his calm character.

The silence in the room was heavy and you suddenly felt as if you couldn't breathe, as if someone was gripping your throat from the inside. As if on cue, San groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

"What the fuck?..." He groaned, as he sat up straight with the help of one hand.

San rubbed the back of his head with his other hand, hissing as he moved it up and down slowly.

You and Seonghwa ran towards him and knelt beside the man.

"San what happened!?"

San sat against the sofa, feeling too sick and too dizzy to sit up straight on his own. He took a couple of breathsm trying to recollect what happened before he blacked out.

"There really isn't much to say, right after Y/N left Mingi asked me to get him something from the kitchen and when I came back someone, I'm assuming Mingi, hit me with something in the back of the head. Next thing I know I'm waking up next to Jongho."

Seonghwa stood up, visibly stressed and irritated.

"Y/N I- I can't take this anymore. I'm tired, I'm stressed out, I wake up, go to sleep and go through the day stressed but I try to keep calm and be reasobale but I just can't anymore! I need to rest, I need time!" Jongho said.

His voice was shaky, his face was red and his eyes were desperate and tired. He had huge bags under his eyes, and he looked as if he wanted to cry, but was too tired to do so.

"I... I know. I know what you're feeling because I'm feeling it too, but the body is gone, and you know that if the body is found we'll all be questioned by the police and if he turns himself in he will also be questioned by the police and we both know that in either case they will be asking questions. The body is decomposing! They'll start asking why he didn't come right away, what happened between the murder and the confession, and it doesn't take much for Mingi to break! If he goes down he'll bring us with him!"

Your voice was unstable from crying, and you, just like every other person in the group, regretted helping Mingi. You should have stayed mad at him. You shouldn't have babied him and helped him cover up a murder. But it was too late, friendship and compassion won over you as if you were in a kid's cartoon where the power of friendship could overcome anything. But it didn't.

"Each of you get in one of my cars. We're splitting up and looking for him. Keys are in the ignition, let's go. The sooner we find him, the sooner it will all be over."

Seonghwa turned his back and started walking towards the garage, giving them no time to oppose themselves to the plan, or to complain at all.

Four motors roared in the garage as each of them left in their respective car to look around. He couldn't have gone very far, it had only been a couple hours and Mingi had no car and no money for a cab.

It was becoming increasingly hard for San to throw off Wooyoung. They had been spending a lot of time together and these past few days he had barely talked to the younger boy, making the latter suspicious that either San had gotten tired of him, or that he had found someone else. Either way Wooyoung was panicking and constantly blowing up San's phone, which was just the cherry on top. After the 10th ding sounded from his phone, San pulled over for a second and called Wooyoung.

"Heeey Woo." He said, trying to sound as sweet as possible.

"San what's happening? Please tell me if you're getting tired of me... Don't give me any hopes, because I really like you."

"What? No Wooyoung, I like you, like... a lot. Really. But I've just been busy with consoling Y/N, and there was a bunch of issues in some paperwork from my part-time job so I had to work on that as well, it's just been a very tiring couple of days, I'm sorry... Can I get back to you once I'm done? I need a little rest."

As far as Wooyoung knew you were still upset at Mingi.

"Alright fine, but I expect a nice homemade dinner once you're free."

"Of course baby."

San hung up with a sigh, relieved that he bought his excuses, and started the engine once more, resuming his search.

San was driving around the town, searching places with fewer people and hidden spots where rarely anybody went to. He ended up in a couple bad neighborhoods, which in retrospect it wasn't very smart since he was riding a Rolls Royce, but they hadn't been making good choices the past few days. Seonghwa headed back to the cabin where they had found the body, you searched every bridge and police station and Jongho went to his apartment.

It was minute 12 of driving around when you received a call. It was a group call with everyone involved.

"The body is back in the cabin. It's covered with all the leaves and shit we put here."

"Don't touch it, get out of there for now. I'm still trying to get to his house, anyone got anything?"

Jongho's question was met with a bunch of no's.

"Well I'm almost at his house and I can see- oh my God. I found him. I found him he's standing on a balcony and I think he's gonna jump everyone get here!"

Jongho hung up and you told Seonghwa the address. Thankfully you were close by and got there in no time. Jongho sprinted up the stairs and by the time you and San got to the house he was trying to talk Mingi out of it. Mingi was standing on the edge of his balcony, on the other side of the railing, but still holding onto it. Jongho was crying and begging Mingi to come to his senses and to come back inside, as he gripped his arm.

"It's no use Jongho, just let me go! This is not up to you!"

You and San got up to the balcony as well, trying to talk Mingi out of it.

"Mingi please! We'll get through this I'm begging you, we can't lose you too!" You yelled.

You wanted to stay composed but you couldn't help the tears streaming down your face. Even Jongho, who was usually very uncomfortable displaying his emotions, was crying and begging.

When Seonghwa got to the scene, he was terrified. He didn't know what to do, which was a common thing throughout the past few days, and it was killing him.

Everyone was pulling on Mingi's left side, trying to pull him up along with Jongho, so, without anyone noticing, he jumped outside the railing, and slowly walked towards Mingi without him noticing either.

Once he was close enough, he grabbed the man and pulled him up and over the railing, while holding himself stable with one hand on said railing.

However, Mingi's selfishness was bigger, and in the end, he showed that no matter what other people did for him, he was going to put himself first.

Mingi was mad, he thought his friends were being selfish and had no say in the matter, so while being saved, while going over the railing back into his house, he kicked it away with all the strength in his body, making him fall back.

Seonghwa, who was holding onto Mingi, failed to grip the railing harder and fell with Mingi, looking into your sad, panic-filled eyes as he fell to his death.

You bent over and watched the man you loved fall, in what felt like slow motion. His body hit the ground, and with an ugly cracking noise, Seonghwa's head split open.

You sprinted down the stairs, and once you got down to the ground people were circling the two men, taking pictures and gasping at the scene. You shoved away everybody in front of you so you could reach Seonghwa. His face was nearly intact, but the pool of blood surrounding his cracked skull told you there was no way he'd survive. His chest moved up and down quickly, for a couple of seconds, indicating the intense pain he was in.

"Seonghwa I'm sorry- I-I'm so sorry! Please... I love you..."

Just as the last three words left your mouth, you could see his lips twitch, before his chest stopped moving, before his eyes lost all of their color, before his body went limp in your hands. You stayed there, holding the face of the deceased man you once loved, your clothes soaking his blood and you cried out for forgiveness.

You didn't dare look at Mingi, but you sure hoped he was dead.

But he wasn't. And in the end. When the ambulance and the police came, they took Seonghwa to the morgue and Mingi to the hospital. Mingi ended up surviving after intense surgery, but not for long, because you would end up killing him.

"You don't get to live!" You told Mingi, as you stabbed gagged him and stabbed him over, and over, and over.

He died in a slow, agonizing way, just like you wanted him to. After all he put you, San, and Jongho through, after the sleepless nights, the constant stress, after staying the love of your life he still thought he'd get a second chance!?

You made sure he suffered, and you made sure he knew how much you hated him as you pierced your old, blunt, and rusty knife into his body.

San and Wooyoung ended up fleeing the country, and Jongho joined the military, both too afraid to face the reality and their past actions, seeking any refuge outside of their past lives. They did end up hearing about Mingi's death, and neither of them seemed to care. After everything, they just gave up on him completely.

You were arrested for Mingi's murder, but after confessing everything, and giving a couple touch-ups where you removed Seonghwa, Jongho, and San from the story, and after leading them to Yunho's body, the lawyer from your case pleaded not guilty, and blamed your acts on the heavy toll the incidents of helping your best friend, and the death of your lover, had taken on you, and the judge agreed that you should be under house arrest, with a government assigned professional that would assist you, take care of you, and report back to court.

Was that the end? Was that all there was to your life? That seemed to be the case... Sooner or later you'd end up joining Seonghwa however, you knew that much, you just hoped he was somewhere waiting for you.

[tainted-wine]

(Snapped a pic because I lost the darn ask)

Thank you, anon! She didn’t exactly forget in this case, but bear with me. This crack is basically a happier ending to Spring Bird Survival Guide. It was supposed to be a couple sentences long. I don’t know how it turned into nearly 3,000 words. I...I wrote a whole fic.

....Enjoy?

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

(NSFW)

“Why did you stop taking them?” He sounds more confused than you’ve ever heard him, the slight shake in his voice betraying his fear.

You didn’t mean for him to catch you in his bathroom, positive pregnancy test still in your hands. Your plan was to figure out when would be the appropriate time to tell him, assuming that he didn’t catch on to the constant nausea added to your pains. At least this saves you the trouble of keeping secrets.

“Because…the Commission can go fuck themselves.” You take his hand and place it right above your womb, hearing his breath hitch. “Let’s start a family, Keigo.”

Hawks knew that this was beyond stupid. It was stupid of you to put yourself in this position, it was stupid of him to even be considering this, and it was stupid of both of you to attempt such a thing behind the Commission’s back.

But his birdbrain didn’t care about any of that right now.

He pulls you in for a suffocating kiss. “My little hen is about to become a mother hen.” He takes you to bed and claims you out of pure joy.

—————————————

That buzzfood article was frankly right. Mutant bodies didn’t make any sense, and what they could do to other people’s bodies made no friggin sense either. As time passed, not only was his seed growing inside of you at an alarming rate, something felt off. These weren’t the kicks of a single fetus, it felt akin to a strange cluster of objects crammed into your womb, shifting about in a way that sometimes made you shudder.

You haven’t been able to see a doctor at all—Hawks wanted you to stay in his house at all times and away from the public’s eye—so there was no way to properly check, but it didn’t take too many guesses to figure out what was happening.

“You didn’t tell me that I’d lay eggs!”

“I didn’t know!” Hawks swears that he didn’t hatch out of an egg himself and had no way of predicting this.

The development of the eggs only took about a month. When it was time to birth them…

“I hate you! God, I hate you so fucking much for putting me through this!” You screamed in pure agony as tears streamed down your face, using every ounce of strength in your body to keep pushing.

Hawks was kneeling between your legs, caressing your thighs lovingly as he watched his offspring’s vessels emerge from your stretched hole. “I’m sorry, baby. You can chew me out all you want later, alright? Just keep pushing. You’re doing great.” Oh fuck him. Fuck him and all of his comfort, making you do this on his own bed, without the security of doctors who actually know how to do this properly. Squeezing out three baby-sized eggs was like a temporary vacation in hell.

Once the eggs were all brought into the world, Hawks wrapped them up in blankets and placed them under a lamp. He knew that there were actual incubators for couples like the two of you, but he’d rather keep them cozy with his personal belongings instead of some lifeless factory-made device.

“I’m not farming chickens that I’ll eat later. These are our kids.”

You’ve been too exhausted to argue, having lost a frightening portion of your body weight. Hawks was having a little too much fun in gorging you, trying to hand-feed you meats of all kinds.

Another month goes by, and you think something must be wrong because those eggs shouldn’t be cracking already, right? But amazingly, you watch as gooey newborns flail about until they have fully broken out of their protective shells. Hawks sadly missed the hatching, but when he comes home and sees his three sons for the first time, he cries.

Somehow, you’re still surprised when they grow quickly. It was concerning. Is that healthy? Three more months pass, and all three of them have fully feathered wings. Hawks teaches them how to fly and use their quirks, and they learn with carefree laughs and smiles on their faces. Healthy or not, you’re going to do everything you can to keep these little fledglings happy.

—————————————

“Let’s have more.”

Your eyes nearly pop out. “More? Already?”

You both sit on the roof of the house, your three boys chasing each other across the starry sky. Both of you have to always remind them to stay quiet and within Mommy and Daddy’s sight when they play outside.

Hawks places his hand over yours. “They could use some more siblings, don’t you think? I’ve got more than enough to provide for them.”

It sounds stupid. Doing any of this was stupid, honestly, and you’re not looking forward to carrying more of his eggs. Yet, a simpler part of your mind wanted this, to take as many of his children as possible, and you decided to listen to it.

“Alright.”

—————————————

The Commission was destined to find out sooner or later, though you’re not sure how. You were eventually fired after your long absence that you refused to give them an explanation for. It’s possible that they still managed to spot your kids while they were outdoors, despite you and Hawks’s many precautions.

You were watching your new clutch of eggs—four of them this time—when the winged hero arrived, the features on his face pressed into a tranquil fury that made you shiver.

“He wanted to take them,” he said lowly through gritted teeth. “He wanted to take our kids and turn them into heroes. Into fucking weapons.”

You held him, feeling his anger ebb with your soothing rubs across his back, right between the base of his wings. “What do we do? We can’t hide from them. You can’t talk them out of anything. Oh god, Keigo, what do we do?” You felt completely helpless, knowing that you couldn’t stop them if they decided to take your little angels away.

Hawks looked to the pile of sleeping boys, having worn themselves out after a hyper game of tag that required you to keep a close eye to ensure they didn’t break anything. At just a little less than a year old, they could be mistaken for being around the age of ten. “They’re really skilled fliers already, aren’t they? Even have great control of their feathers.” He nodded to himself, lost in his own head. “Yeah...I’ll show them weapons.”

The sinister air around him was scaring you. “Keigo?”

His face returned to a cheerful smile as he planted a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, mother hen. I’ve got this under control.”

“But what about the deputy? He’s going to come for our kids!”

You felt his whole body shake from his deep chuckle. “No he’s not.”

And that’s when you noticed it. The dried specks of reddish-brown on his jacket, almost like a splatter. Blood.

“I killed him.”

—————————————

It won’t be long before the Commission goes after Hawks for killing one of their own, so he wasn’t going to give them time to plan.

You didn’t appreciate him taking the kids behind your back, and you had no idea what danger he was putting them in until you heard the news.

The Hero Public Safety Commission HQ had been attacked and overwhelmed.

—————————————

By the time your second clutch hatched, Hawks already had full control of what was once the HPSC. He gave you a tour through the remodeled building, your kids roaming the halls excitedly as if they didn’t just overthrow an entire organization. Some of the employees greeted you warmly, some gave forced smiles. One of them bowed respectfully with a twitchy grin.

“I’m happy to be a part of the Hawks Hero Force, ma’am. We are going to make great changes.”

You...didn’t know what to say to that.

You stuck to raising your kids while Hawks did whatever diabolical shit he was doing, but it was hard to ignore the growing tension in the city. He and his kids have been holding off opposing heroes for weeks, all of them trying and failing to bring down the rising power of the number two hero. You saw the debates on television. People were arguing whether the dissolution of the Commission was for Japan’s benefit and that Hawks should be supported, or question if Hawks should be trusted at all for disposing of the very people that got him where he is today. What was even his game plan?

You didn’t care much yourself. The only insight Hawks has given you was that he was setting up a city that would be safe for all of his children. Sounds good enough to you.

In just a few more months, your other four kids were eager to join their father’s cause. You and Hawks no longer mention the rapid growth of your offspring...and the short lifespans they likely possess. There was no point in letting those fears resurface.

You hug them all, telling them to visit Mommy on weekends and always keep their feathers clean and sharp for battle.

“Don’t worry, Mommy! We’re gonna teach those heroes not to defy Dad!”

—————————————

The part of the HQ building Hawks led you to was like a bizarre fusion of a love hotel room and a nursery. It was such a strange setup, that you almost forgot to question the young lady that has been following him around.

He gives her a few pats on the shoulder. “This here is Hina, one of my most loyal followers. She’s been on my side since the beginning.” Hina gives a polite smile and bows in your direction.

And then Hawks lays it all on you. How he wants kids at a quicker rate, and his female supporters would be perfect for this...you’re dumbstruck. Your belly was already swelling with his potent seed for the third time, and somehow that wasn’t enough?

“I promise you there’s nothing else to it. Isn’t that right, Hina?”

The woman stood tall and nodded. “I’m only here to help Hawks in his cause.”

Hawks gave her an approving smile before turning back to you. “And if you’re not convinced, just stick around. I welcome the audience.”

The suggestion catches you so off-guard that you agree to it. You take a seat on one of the beds (holy shit this was a goddamn breeding room) and watch him and Hina settle on one right next to you.

“All fours, missy.” Hina obeys his command and prepares herself on her hands and knees.

You watch. You watch Hawks rub her moistened folds while stroking himself until fully erect. You watch him slowly push in, hearing the sharp intake of breath from Hina. He stays at a moderate pace, holding her hips and gently rocking her with his thrusts. It’s…odd, watching the men you’ve had seven (so far) children with take another woman to bear more.

The girl that was a complete stranger to you was sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, but that still wasn’t enough to hold back her moans. Still, it was hard to pay attention to her, because Hawks’s eyes were locked onto yours. Even as his breaths and movements quickened, even as Hina began to shake and collapse onto her elbows as she reached her climax, he never tore his gaze away from you. He finally did when his eyes shut tightly as he buried himself balls-deep into his dear follower, blessing her with several spurts of his sperm into her welcoming womb.

You couldn’t help but rub your own belly at the sight.

He unfolded the sheets and helped the dazed woman get settled into the bed. “You should get cleaned up later, but for now, just rest.” He said softly.

Hina mumbled nonsense, already half-asleep.

Hawks straightened himself out before walking over to you, excited to rub the stomach that cradled his chicks. “I’m gonna give you all the children you could ever want, baby. And remember,” he gave you a kiss of pure love and passion. “I’ll always only have eyes for you.”

You smiled and hugged him tightly. All of the children in the world…Keigo’s children. “Sounds perfect.”

“Soon, I’ll have all of these beds filled.”

—————————————

Hawks and his children have amazingly lowered Fukuoka’s crime rate by a significant amount. You never imagined living in such a peaceful time. You didn’t understand the interviews and articles, the ones that expressed fear and outrage over being attacked by winged individuals for doing anything that can be perceived as villainous. There were heroes still trying to destroy the Hawks Hero Force, creating alliances of their own to face this new dominating power. They were usually taken care of pretty quickly—all it takes is a flurry of sharp feathers from several pairs of wings to crush the foolish rebels.

You don’t understand why they resisted so much. All they had to do to avoid Hawks’s wrath was be a law-abiding citizen, and also not harm his kids. Oh yeah, anyone—hero or not—that made the mistake of injuring you and your man’s angels had this weird habit of…disappearing.

You had about fifty of them by now. Fifty winged beauties that keep the peace with proud and innocent smiles. Not all of them were yours—they had many mothers now—but you treated them all like your own.

One would expect Hawks to start losing track of his precious eyases, but he remembers every single one of them like they hatched yesterday. Each name…every voice…every face…he didn’t forget any of them, and loved them all equally. When they weren’t enforcing laws, they were cuddling and playing with their father or mothers.

You wandered through the incubation room, looking over the many nests that held your future. The mothers-in-the-making were resting in their beds next door, their bellies growing each day.

This is what paradise looked like.

—————————————

3 years later...

Buzzfood.com

(NOTICE: Buzzfood would like to remind citizens that next Saturday is Skewer Saturday of this month. Please be prepared to offer a chicken skewer to any descendants of Hawks that are currently residing in your neighborhood. If you need help searching for the best skewers to purchase in your area, take a look at our recommended restaurants here. Citizens that do not participate in Skewer Saturday will be taken in by the Hawks Hero Force and punished accordingly. Show your appreciation for our crime-free country!)

Great Hawks Celebrates His 1000th Child

By Yuki Burushito

Another great day in Fukuoka! But this day in particular just might be the greatest day yet! Why, you ask? Our beloved leader Hawks has brought his thousandth child into the world! A public ceremony was held to welcome this beautiful girl on this earth and, more importantly, this blessed country. Hawks and his wife were in tears, and I must say, seeing this vulnerability from such a powerful man moved me like nothing else. May your precious daughter one day join her brothers and sisters in the eternal battle of keeping the peace!

Speaking of peace, we must not forget that even though Japan is enjoying its best years in history, our peace is still being threatened every day. There are villain groups lurking in your city’s slimy cracks, plotting to destroy everything Hawks has worked so hard to create. They even have the audacity to call themselves heroes. We all know that the only heroes needed today are the noble winged ones that fight to keep us safe and comfortable. One group in particular insists on giving Hawks a hard time whenever they can: the One For All Alliance. The majority of the members in this gang are former students and teachers from the now-defunct U.A. High School. Their influence may be spreading, but our love and support for Hawks will always smother their poisonous lies!

We must do our part in ensuring that Japan retains its place as the World’s Paradise!

—————————————

You find him on the roof of his house, watching your three eldest boys fly freely as the orange dawn painted the city’s skyline. Only three years old, yet their bodies were strong and hardened, one of them sporting facial hair similar to their father’s.

He of course panics and scolds you when he spots you trying to climb with your bulging stomach. You only roll your eyes as he helps you up. You’ve gone through this reproductive process more than enough times to know your body’s limits.

“They wanted to reminisce for a while,” Hawks explains, back to watching the playful flights. “They make three years sound like it was ages ago. Then again…” His proud gleam twisted into something sadder, his mind entering that dark pit he tries so hard to avoid.

You cover one of his hands with yours. “No matter how long they have, we’re going to keep working to make sure they enjoy every minute of their life. You’ve given so much to all of your children. Be proud of how great of a father you are.”

The smile he gives is soft and warm. You’ve been seeing those more than his cocky smirks lately.

The sun continues to rise as you both kiss under its morning rays, lost in each other’s love. He only pulls back to speak again. “How about we gather some of the youngsters for a trip to the amusement park? It’s been a while.”

You can’t hide your worry at the suggestion. “Are you sure? Villains love to strike when you’re not active.

He gave a smug grin. Ah, there’s the old him. “They do, and they still get their asses kicked. My kids can handle it. I’ve got all the free time in the world, my little hen.” He holds you close and you both return to watching your darlings fly.

“More free time than I know what to do with.”

[allthingsfangirl101]

Drunken Confession–Zac Efron

The last thing I expected to come home to after a long week at work was a drunk Zac sitting on my doorstep.

"There's my girl," he slurred. When he looked up at me, I saw he had a black eye and a busted lip. I looked down to see his knuckles were bleeding.

"What the hell happened to you?"

He tried to sit up but ended up falling back down, laughing way harder than necessary.

"The last thing I remember is being at a bar," he giggled.

"Clearly," I sighed as I bent down and helped him up.

Once we were standing, I wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I unlocked my door and carefully led him inside. I slowly put him down on the couch before heading into the kitchen. I grabbed some crackers, a bottle of water, and a first aid kit.

When I walked back into the front room, Zac was laying down. I knelt in front of him and quietly started cleaning his cuts without waking him. I was able to stop the bleeding on his lip and the cut on his forehead. I was rubbing some face lotion on his bruised eye when he started to wake up.

"Morning," he whispered. I coughed when I got hit in the face with his alcohol-soaked breath.

"It's 5 o'clock," I sighed as I helped him sit up.

"AM or PM?" He joked.

"PM," I sighed.

I sat on the coffee table in front of him and continued cleaning him up. The entire time I fixed his cuts and bruises, I could feel him watching me with a weird look on his face. When I was done, I put everything away without breaking the silence.

"Okay," he sighed, slightly laughing. "I know you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad," I shrugged. "Just concerned."

"Awwww," he cooed. "You're concerned about me."

He tried to hug me but I stood up and angrily turned towards him. "Of course I'm concerned about you. Not only are you drunk off your ass, but you're also beaten up. You can't just show up on my doorstep, looking like someone beat the shit out of you and act like nothing happened."

"Y/N," he stuttered as he tried to stand but drunkenly fell back down.

"What happened to you, Zac?"

"Nothing," he tried to say.

"Who did this to you?" I angrily cut him off. "Tell me what happened. Now."

"Okay," he sighed. "Just promise me you won't get mad."

"You're my best friend, Zac," I sighed as I sat next to him. "Of course I'm going to be mad that someone kicked your ass. Just calm my nerves by telling me what happened."

As he hesitated, he grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. When I looked up and saw the expression on his face, my stomach did flips. Whatever happened that led Zac to get in a fight must've been bad.

"Zac," I whispered. "Just talk to me. You're really scaring me."

"I got into a fight with Adam," he finally confessed.

"What? Zac, why would you and Adam get into a fight? You're friends."

"We were drunk," he continued. "He started running his mouth and I got angry and. . ."

"And you punched him," I sighed. "You started the fight?"

"I had to," he stuttered. He looked up at me, the look in his eyes changing. He turned towards me, slightly scooting closer to me.

"What was he running his mouth about?"

"You."

"Zac," I sighed.

"He called you my shadow," he cut me off. He let go of my hands and ran his fingers through his hair.

Zac stood up and started angrily pacing back and forth in front of me. I sat back on the couch when I saw his shaking hands. He was still extremely drunk.

"So you aren't a big actress. You still have a tv show that's been going for five seasons. Besides, why do people keep thinking that we can't be friends because our careers are in different chapters? That's not why we're friends. And it shouldn't matter."

I jumped up when he stumbled. He would've fallen onto the coffee table if I hadn't caught him. He drunkenly giggled as I led him back to the couch.

"You're so good to me," he slurred. I gasped when he pulled me into his chest and laid us further into the cushions.

"Can I be honest with you?" He asked.

"You're going to be whether I say yes or no," I sighed.

"You're too good for me, Y/N," he mumbled. "And sooner rather than later, another guy is going to see how amazing you are and he's going to take you away from me."

"No one is going to take me away from you, Zac," I said even though he definitely wouldn't remember this tomorrow.

"Yes he will," he whined. "And I'm scared."

"That someone will take me away?" I stuttered.

"That a new guy will come around and you'll leave me for him," Zac pouted. "As soon as you find a guy who treats you amazing, like you deserve, I'll lose you. And that fucking terrifies me."

"Zac," I said, my voice breaking like my heart.

"You're gonna leave me," he said, sounding like a child.

"No, I'm not," I said instantly. He just scoffed as he pouted. I sat up and turned towards him. "Zac, look at me. I am not going to leave you. Ever."

"Not even when you find a new guy to spend all your time with?" He asked, pursing his lips like he was pouting.

I reached up and cupped his cheek in my hand. I gently rubbed his skin with my thumb.

"Listen to me very closely," I said softly. "It doesn't matter if I meet someone new. I will never leave you. Okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He reached up and grabbed my wrist, not pulling my hand away from his face. I got chills when he dragged his fingers up and down my forearm.

"Let's get you to bed," I said, clearing my throat. I stood up, pulling him with me. When we got to the spare bedroom, Zac suddenly pulled on my arm and stopped me.

"I love you," he slurred.

"You're drunk. You don't mean that," I laughed awkwardly as I took a step back. I gasped when he grabbed my hands and pulled me back into his chest.

"Yes, I do," he said oddly seriously. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. I have been since forever! Remember when we were little and you called me your superhero? That's when. The first time you said I was your hero, I was done for. I was in love."

"Stop," I cut him off. I had tears streaming down my cheeks as I pulled away from him. I took several steps back and wrapped my arms around myself.

"You don't know what you're saying, Zac. You're drunk. Sleep it off and we'll talk about it in the morning."

I quickly turned around and walked to my room, a sob getting stuck in my throat.

                               * * * * *

I woke up the next morning to dishes being set down in my kitchen. I sat up, grabbed my cardigan, and left my room. My heart stopped and my breath got stuck in my throat when I saw Zac moving around in the kitchen.

"Shit," he said when he looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. "I woke you up, didn't I? Damn it. I was trying to be quiet. I was going to surprise you, but clearly, I screwed that up."

"What are you doing?" I stuttered.

"I was trying to make you an 'I'm sorry I came to your apartment drunk off my ass' breakfast," he shrugged, smiling goofily at me. Usually, that smile always made me laugh. It fell when he saw it work.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Instead of answering, I asked, "What do you remember from last night?"

"Everything," he laughed. "I wasn't that drunk, Y/N."

"Zac," I said sternly. I looked up at him, frustrated tears in my eyes. He put down the spatula and ran over to me.

"What's wrong?" He rushed out as he rubbed my arms reassuringly. "Did I hurt you last night?"

"What?" I gasped. I sighed as I shrugged his hands off me. "No, Zac, you didn't hurt me. You just. . . You said something that is really confusing and unfair if it isn't true."

"Wait, what did I. . ."

"You said you were in love with me," I rushed out, looking away from him. "You said you've been in love with me since I called you my hero when we were kids. Is it true? Or was it just some stupid drunk thing you said? Because if it wasn't true, I don't think I can go back to normal. Not when I. . ."

I gasped when he grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine. It took me a second before I started to kiss him back. When I did, I let out a small moan as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I felt him smile into the kiss when he let go of my face and pulled me tightly into his chest. We broke apart, laughing, when we had stumbled backward and bumped into the island.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, out of breath. "I just. . . Maybe I shouldn't have kissed you. I needed you to stop talking so I could show you that it was true. I guess I could've just told you it was true instead of jumping you. . ."

This time it was my turn to cut him off by kissing him. He laughed into the kiss as he moved his lips in sync with mine.

"What is it with us kissing each other to shut the other up?" He mumbled into the kiss with a small chuckle.

"I don't mind," I whispered as I deepened the kiss. I gasped as he picked me up and set me on the counter, standing between my legs without breaking the kiss.

I moaned as he dragged his tongue across my bottom lip, asking for entrance. The second I opened my mouth, he started exploring every inch of it with his tongue.

He broke the kiss, both of us struggling to catch our breath as he started kissing my neck. I tilted my head back, giving him better access, and moaned when he found my sweet spot. I gasped when he bit down.

"I'm sorry," he said breathlessly as he quickly pulled away. "We're probably. . . This is. . . I mean. . . We should talk about this before we do anything."

"You're right," I whispered, still trying to catch my breath. He gently grabbed my waist and lifted me off the counter. When my feet were back on the ground, he didn't remove his hands. I looked up at him, nervously biting my bottom lip.

"Or we could talk about it later," I whispered. Zac smirked as he pulled me closer into his chest, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

"Later it is."

[glassartpeasants]

I Can Give You Everything...

Overhaul x F!Reader x Chronostasis

Warnings: Angst, cheating, kissing, sad boi hours for reader and chrono

A/N: Man i tried to make one where chisaki cried but I can’t man. I’ve done it a few times but this shit just hits different ya know? I also really hated this so enjoy. I’ll start that Lovely fic once this is posted

(BF/N) = best friends name

~~~

That gorgeous bastard. No matter how many times he hurts you, you still can’t get enough of him and his golden eyes. He always made you feel safe but safety is just an accessory when you're too busy hanging out with your girlfriends best friend. Laughing at her jokes and her stories.

“Why doesn’t he laugh at me like that?” You question when you sit at the table with your best friend who happened to date chrono while you were dating Chisaki. 

You pretty much said nothing as you watched your boyfriend and best friend look at each other in a less than modest manner. You put your face in the palm of your hand as you looked at chrono. Who also seemed a little peeved. Hey at least you two had something in common. You try to figure out something that would take your mind off the scene in front of you. 

It was no doubt they were flirting. It was so obvious. Right in front of you and Chrono too. You felt some tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You just couldn’t handle it. It hurt seeing the man you love making advantages towards your best friend.

You stand up and walk out of the office without a word. Slamming the door behind you. Your footsteps ring throughout the compound. Your vision blurring every second you get closer to your room. Your tears streaming down your face, hiccups erupting from your throat.

Once entering your room you shut the door before sitting on the edge of your bed, grabbing a pillow letting your tears drench it. Squeezing with all your might thinking it was someone who would at least sympathise with you. A faint knocking on the door interrupted your crying session.

“Who is it?” You say, not being able to hide the sadness in your trembling voice.

“Hari.”

“Come in.” You watch as the door opens as Hari stepped in, closing the door behind him before sitting on the bed. You looked at him and he looked at you. Before you could say anything you clung to him and started to ball your eyes out. You didn’t know why. Sure you’ve had a few conversations with Hari but you wouldn’t consider you guys friends but, it felt nice. Being able to hug someone. Kai never hugged you and your best friend had recently stopped hugging you as well.

“I know, it sucks. I'm in the same boat.” He hugged you back as you sobbed into his neck.

“Am I just not good enough? What did I do wrong?” Your tears kept coming. As you shake in Hari’s arms. You were so busy crying that you almost didn’t notice the few drops of water that fell on your shoulder. Almost.

You knew what it was before you even looked. You rubbed his back trying to calm him down. You both were crying and trying to comfort the other. Weird yes. But it just felt nice to be held as if someone cared about you. Hari started to slip away to your discomfort but you let him go anyways. You both look at one another, your faces red as it looked like you’ve been crying for hours.

“Uh thanks I guess I kinda needed that-” You both turned silent after you heard the familiar voices of Kai and (BF/n). You both placed your ears to the door trying to pick up and conversations at all. Your body filled with anger once you heard how much shit they were talking.

“Shush, we don’t know if they’re near. We can’t have them finding out.” Kai said in a low voice, obviously trying not to get caught. Well that didn’t matter now did it. Before you could think of a plan, Hari burst open the door. Looking furious. Can you blame him though?

“Are you fucking serious Kai?! Your fucking my girlfriend?!” Hari screamed at Kai. It was the first time you’ve ever seen Hari raise his voice at Kai.

“WHy were you there with my girlfriend?!”

“I don’t know, maybe comforting her when she was balling her eyes out!” Hari growled as he grabbed you and pulled you towards him.

“Hari sweetie I promise it’s not what it looks like!” (BF/n) tried to reason with him. Letting go of Kai to go over to Hari before Hari shoved her back towards him. You didn’t say anything, hell you didn’t know what to say.

“How long?” Har said as he looked them both dead in the eyes. Neither of them spoke.

“I said how long damnit!”

“5 months!” (BF/N) whimpered. She looked at Hari with tears in her eyes.

“(Y/N) come on, let's leave these two to their devices.” Kai said as he turned around waiting for you to follow him. He started walking waiting to hear your footsteps behind him. But there wasn’t. He turned to look at you and saw that you stood still by Hari. 

“(y/n) come.”

“She’s not your fucking dog Kai.” They looked at each other with slowly burning hatred. You figured you had to do something before Kai hurted Chrono. 

You grabbed Hari’s hand and began to walk out of the compound. You looked down at the ground while still hearing Hari’s screams at Kai. You tugged him closer as you walked out the door. Your cheeks stung as the cold air from the winter was approaching, making them red as they were nipped by the frost. Your ears cold as the wind blew at them. You wish you didn’t hear it. You wish you hadn’t heard the hurt and betrayal that was laced in Hari’s voice.

~~~

You sat on the hotel bed while listening to Hari rant. I mean could you blame him? His childhood friend betrayed him by sleeping with his girlfriend, and your lover slept with yours. It was a lose lose situation. Now you have no one to talk to other then the man standing in front of you. 

You let out a sigh before hearing a thu hitting the ground. You look down and saw Hari on his knees crying. Without thinking you dash towards him and hug tightly which he quickly returned. You couldn’t help but let your own tears slide down your face. 

“What does he have that I don’t?” He cried into your shoulder. It hurt to watch truly. A man once proud and tall without no fear break down in front of you. Hari was just as good as Kai when it came to hiding emotions. So to see him collapse to the floor was a surprise. But you hugged him nonetheless. 

“Hari, don’t change who you are for someone that’s not going to be loyal. Once a cheater, always a cheater.” You say softly to him as you rubbed circles on his back. It was the least you could do after he comforted you last time. He hugged you tighter the before.

“Do you think that if I asked her to marry me she would have continued?” You furrow your brows and you looked at him.

“You were gonna ask her to marry you?”

“Was. But do you think she would have?” He looked at you, eyes red from all the crying. Confused would be an understatement.

“If she didn’t and you still found out she cheated on you before you got married, what would you have done?”

“Dumped her i suppose...”

“And if she did I’m guessing you would have dumped her as well?”

“Yeah.”

“So either way it was a lose lose. We both lost in their game they had us in. Going in circles trying to please our lovers when they never wanted anything to do with us. We would have found out sooner or later so It was best that we found out now.” You say as you brush one of his arrows away from his face.

“Did she leave me because my quirk-”

“No. Even if she was doing it because of that then she’s an idiot. Hari, you may see your quirk as a bad one but I see it in a different way. You arrows only need to hit a person once and their done for. They can’t fight if they can’t move. Plus you have options to choose from, one hour or one minute. Both of them still makes you win in the end.”

“It only works when I’m not moving though...”

“So? That’s why your known for your stealth. You may think your quirk sucks but if you use it just right then it can be more dangerous then you ever thought it could be. Its a shame that you don’t see that because that’s what i see.” You smile down at him as he looks at you with wide eyes. He never thought about the words you said. He was to busy thinking about how he wished he had a better quirk. How could you be so kind to him even though your quirkless. You looked at his quirk like it was just as destructive as Kai’s. 

What was Kai thinking? How could he throw away a whole relationship with someone who knew how to say the right things? You were so kind to him even though you went through the exact same thing he was going through right now. You were so calm. So composed. 

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“Guess I’m just use to it. Kai isn’t the most romantic. We were slowly drifting apart for awhile anyways haha. I could kinda sense he was losing feelings and-”

“Falling for (BF/N)?”

“Yeah...yeah he was. But that’s okay. It all happens for a reason. You and I will find the right one someday, it may not be today but thats okay.” Your sweet words felt like honey to his ears. Your voice was so calming, so much kindness in one person and Kai threw it away. 

“Thank you (y/n), it really means a lot.” 

“Hey we gotta stick together now, we both got fucked over by our best friends haha.” You laugh trying to lighten the mood. You looked at the man whos head rested on your shoulder smiling gently. You soon felt a hand grab your cheek.

 Hari cupped your cheek as he looked at you. He should be sad, he should be mourning. But he can’t help but want you. Wanting you to be by his side. With that said Hari leaned up and gently placed his lips on yours.

You were surprised but didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to. Your eyes flutter shut as you relax into the kiss. Its funny since you can’t even remember the last time Kai kissed you. Or if he even kissed you at all. 

The kiss ended to soon for both of your liking but you guys just wanted to test the boundaries. Which were soon crossed when you both left for another kiss. A kiss that felt like something way stronger then lust could ever be. This felt real,

this felt like it was meant to be.

[sarah-sandwich]

"I need a hug" please and thank you!

Hi friend! Here it is! Remind me to never commit to a fic a day for an entire week again lmao

Happy last day of National Storyteller Week to everyone who creates or consumes stories! Jump over to my ao3 for 5 ridiculous parkner fics 👌✨💛

Peter, no

He probably should have clued in sooner, a lot sooner.

Him and Peter have been attached at the hip for three years, ever since Peter ran into the lab in the middle of a video call with Tony, shouted something about an arm-wrestling tournament with the Avengers, and begged, “You gotta come trash talk them for me! Please, Mr. Stark! No one roasts as good as you!” Then, after receiving Tony’s resigned agreement, exclaimed, “I’m gonna dislocate Captain America’s shoulder!” turned tail and sprinted back out, ignoring Tony’s, “Peter, no!”

It was over in under a minute but he was bewitched.

“Who was that? And why haven’t I met him?”

“I’ve been avoiding this day,” Tony said in a world-weary tone. “You’re either going to hate each other or get on like a house fire. Either way, I’ll never know peace again.”

In usual Tony Stark fashion, he was right.

He thought he’d seen every side of Peter there is. He’s seen him soft and sleepy under the blue glow of the television. He’s seen him wired and manic as he pursues a project on little to no sleep. He’s seen him broken and bleeding in more ways than he cares to count. He’s seen him laughing until he cries, crying so hard the only thing he can do is cry with him, too exhausted to feed himself, too angry to speak, and he’s been there when he’s on the cusp of dropping dead from embarrassment (usually pointing and laughing but hey, somebody’s gotta keep him humble).

He knows him like he knows his sister, like he knows his mom, like he knows himself.

His point is, it shouldn’t have taken this camping trip to put the pieces together. Realization shouldn’t have hit him like a log to the face when Peter rolled up the sleeves of his borrowed flannel and suddenly he couldn’t breathe for wanting to kiss him stupid.

Well, stupider.

A moment later, Peter picked up the bag of tent poles like they weighed nothing and somehow managed to dump them all over the side of the road like a can of pick-up-sticks.

It’s gonna be a long weekend.

~*~

“What’s this thing for again?” Peter asks, raising his arms high over his head to hold up the long swath of fabric two times his height.

“It’s a rain fly, Peter. It keeps out the rain.”

“It’s not supposed to rain. Trust me, Aunt May checked the weather like 50 times before she would let me leave.”

“We still need it.”

“But why? We could sleep under the stars.”

“It traps in heat.”

“Sounds like another tally in the cons column. It’s hot as fuck, dude.”

“Not tonight it won’t be. Temperature fluctuates a lot in the mountains, especially when the sun goes down.”

“Temperature fluctuates in the mountains,” Peter repeats mockingly.

Harley stops what he’s doing. “If you really wanna sleep under the stars I don’t have to share my tent. Enjoy the skeeters.”

“You love me too much to leave me to sleep with the wildlife,” Peter says, voice muffled from under the rain fly as he attempts to drape it over the erected tent.

His heart skips. Does he know? Has he been that obvious even while oblivious to his own feelings? Did Peter figure it out before he did? Has he been graciously not saying anything about his huge undeniable crush while—

Peter squawks and tumbles forward, the tent collapsing under him with a snap that echoes through the trees. The rain fly flutters over him like a burial shroud.

“Please tell me whatever just broke was a part of you.”

“Uhh, sorry.”

He sighs. He’s in love with an idiot.

~*~

The tent leans a little to the left when they’re done with it but he’s pretty sure it’ll hold up through the night. Just in case, they limit how often they go in and out of it (which, in his opinion, is the way it should be done regardless).

A breeze rustles the trees, scattering pine needles as birds chitter and small unseen wildlife scurries around the underbrush. He breathes in deep, savoring the scent of dirt, pine, and fresh air. He’s been in the city far too long.

Peter stands with his hands on his hips, dirt crusted on the knees of his jeans, his borrowed flannel pulling tight across his chest as he watches a puffy white cloud scoot by with a befuddled expression.

He turns to Harley. “So umm, now what?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. You’re the one who’s never done this before?”

Peter stares at him blankly.

“Right. Forgot who I was talking to.” He shakes his head and walks over to the car with a sigh. “This way, city boy. It’s time you learned to fish.”

“Sounds smelly.”

“Mmm.” He pops the trunk and pulls out two fishing rods—one old and dinged up, the other brand-spankin-new—and he passes them to Peter so he can grab the tackle box and a white plastic bucket with a lid on it.

“And slimy,” Peter continues, wrinkling his nose at the bold ‘WORMS’ printed on the side of the white bucket.

“That it is, but there aren’t any rats and no one has pissed on the place you need to sit so it’s automatically better than anything the city has to offer.”

“We’ll see about that,” Peter grumbles.

~*~

“Y’know,” Harley drawls lazily, eyes half-lidded as he watches Peter jump from rock to rock along the shoreline, “usually when people are lookin’ to catch a fish they cast their line into the water rather than leavin’ it on the ground.”

“Oh is that how it’s done? I had no idea,” Peter says, stooping down to peer into a small pool sequestered away from the rest of the body of water. “What do tadpoles look like?”

“Uh, little squirmy guys.”

“Very descriptive, thank you.”

“Mhmm. Anytime, darlin’.”

Peter looks up at him, eyes narrowed and he jolts under the sudden scrutiny.

“What?” he asks. He always calls him darling. It’s just a thing he says—a southern thing. So what if over the years he’s stopped using the name for anyone else? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not weird.

“Are you falling asleep?” Peter asks.

“Pfft, no,” he says. The sun is deliciously warm, seeping into his skin and turning his bones to butter as the katydids buzz and birds sing. A warm breeze ruffs his hair and he finds himself blinking slowly.

“Dude, you’re totally falling asleep.” Peter grins playfully and hopscotches across the rocks back to him as he teases, “You know, usually when someone wants to catch a fish, they do it while they’re awake.”

“I am awake, dummy.”

“Not for much longer.” He comes to a stop at his side and tweaks the brim of his hat. “Look at you. You’re like an old man falling asleep in his recliner in front of the big game.”

“Napping is a perfectly respectable part of fishing,” he argues.

Peter throws back his head and laughs. Backed by blue sky and thickly forested mountain, sunlit from above, he’s never looked better.

Should he tell him? Is now the time? He can’t imagine living like this—knowing how he feels but bottling it up and keeping it a secret from his best friend.

Then again—

His fishing rod dips and he sits up with a start, hands already moving for the reel.

“Woah, is that a fish?” Peter exclaims, peering into the lake.

“Sure hope so. Can’t imagine what else it’d—,”

“Can I pull it in?” Peter asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excitable puppy.

“No, you if wanna get a fish you have to put in the work.”

“What work? Laying around half-asleep?”

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll let you take it off the line, how ‘bout that?”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m good.”

He wrestles the fish out of the lake, a bass about two hands long, and then holds the flopping fish, hooked through the lip, out to Peter.

“There you go. Just pop that puppy off the hook and toss ‘im back in.”

“Wait, you don’t even keep the fish?”

“What would I do with a fish?”

“…eat it?”

“That’s a whole song and dance I ain’t got the tools or the patience for. Just grab the fish, Pete. Preferably before it suffocates.”

Peter makes an unhappy sound in his throat but reaches for the fish. Just as his fingers brush the scales, the fish gives a mighty wiggle and Peter flinches back towards the lake.

“Eep!” Peter squeaks and goes into the water with a splash.

Harley hunches over, laughing his head off as Peter sits up, water streaming down his face and dripping from his hair.

“I hate you.” Slipping and sliding in the muck, he makes his way through the mid-thigh deep water, back to dry land, and then keeps walking past Harley and up the hill to the trail that will lead him back to camp.

All the while Harley laughs and laughs, taking a moment to free the fish back into the lake before he sits down and tips his face to the sun, chuckling and committing to memory the way Peter’s soaked jeans and flannel clung all over his body.

~*~

“I still don’t see why—,”

“Shush,” Peter snaps, frowning in concentration over the tiny flame he’s been babying to life for the past fifteen minutes.

He sighs. He tried to convince him to wait until supper for a campfire meal but Mr. Eager Beaver insisted on trying his hand at it now. Had they made sandwiches they’d be done by now and could be hiking. But no. Peter wants to play Boy Scout so they’re going to sit here and starve until he gets a fire built just to spend five minutes roasting hot dogs and then have to put it out again.

To make matters worse, Peter’s no longer wearing his shirt since it got soaked in the lake. He’d gotten attached to how he looks in his clothes. Now he’s wearing on one of his standard nerd-pun tees and a wrinkly pair of khaki cargo shorts and he’s going to have to convince him to at least put on long socks before they hike or he’s going to risk getting poison ivy or poison oak all over his calves and ankles.

“There it goes! There it goes!” Peter exclaims, sitting up tall and motioning at him to look at the little flame as it eats up the pile of twigs and tinder.

“Very good, dear,” he says dryly. “Now see if you can keep it going with some real wood.”

Peter cocks his head at him. “Was that a double-entendre?”

“Why on earth would I imply that we should put a part of my human anatomy in the fire, Peter?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, squatting beside the fire as he breaks up a stick. “Dick jokes are funny.”

“You’re a child.”

“And yet you— Shit!” He flinches back from the fire and falls on his backside.

He comes alert with a spike of adrenaline, rushing forward to— to— pat out flames with his bare hands? He doesn’t know. “What happened?” he demands, checking Peter over for damage and finding nothing, not a burn or singe in sight.

Still sprawled on the ground, Peter looks up at him through his eyelashes with an embarrassed grimace. “I don’t want to say.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he sits up cross-legged and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He stares down at him as he looks down in his lap. “You’re really not going to tell me what just happened? I already saw you fall in a lake because you were scared of a fish. It can’t be worse than that.”

Peter looks up, neck crimped and mouth screwed into an unhappy pucker. “I thought something was on me but it was just the grass.”

Harley stares. “So, you thought a bug was on you.”

“Yeah. I’m starting to think I’m not cut out for this place.”

What has he gotten himself into?

~*~

Peter hasn’t stopped chattering about everything under the sun since they left camp. And considering where they are, there’s a lot to chatter about. From bugs to birds to types of trees and identifying clouds, he’s heard it all. It’s why he’s not paying attention to the path like he should, too busy watching the way Peter waves his hands animatedly as he rambles, the way the sun lights his eyes and makes his hair shine, the way his lips shape the words.

He hasn’t taken in a word he’s said for the past twenty minutes but he’s watched him with rapt attention while his mind churns through his options. He’s not one to ignore something once he knows about it. He doesn’t want to keep this a secret. There’s no reason to. It’s nothing shameful and if Peter doesn’t reciprocate then… well, nothing changes, right? He’s fine with that. Best friends is still good. Great, even.

But if Peter does reciprocate…

His breathing quickens at the thought. How did he not notice this ridiculous crush sooner? It’s like something has been awakened inside him and now it refuses to shut up and go back to sleep. He gravitates towards Peter like an orbiting moon. He’s a moth to Peter’s beam of light. Helpless under the thrall.

Peter suddenly looks right at him. “—you know what I mean?”

“Huh?” His foot lands wrong and rolls over a root. His ankle screams out and then he’s dropping as it gives out.

“Woah!” Peter catches him, one arm around his back and the other fisted into his shirt at his shoulder. His brain goes offline, only processing the way Peter is pressed against him, the way his face is angled over him like he’s on the verge of dipping him into a kiss, the way neither of them moves or speaks, staring instead with startled realization.

He thinks he imagines it when Peter’s eyes dilate but then they fix on his lips and there’s no way he’s imagining that.

Lights flash in his head and he forgets to breathe as they hang suspended in time.

Then Peter bites his lip and his cheeks flush dark pink as he yanks Harley upright.

He stumbles, unprepared, and his ankle gives out a second time.

Peter catches him by the elbows babbling, “Oh my God, I’m sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—,”

“I’m fine. I…” The rest of the sentence vanishes from his tongue as he looks into Peter’s eyes. He loves his eyes—warm and affectionate, they always give him away. Whether they’re bright with curiosity, sparkling with delight, wide with embarrassment, or narrowed in anger, he’s an open book. That’s why the look in his eyes now gives him pause. He’s never seen it before—or maybe it’s been there all along but he hasn’t noticed until now.

They’re dark and focused like he’s seeing through him into his soul and likes what he sees so much he wants to eat him alive.

His heart thunders as he lifts a hand to Peter’s cheek. This is it. This is the moment he tells him and finds out where they’re going to go next.

Peter’s eyes go wide and he swallows thickly, but then his gaze shifts beyond him and he freezes except to carefully grab his forearm in a too-tight grip.

“Bear,” Peter breathes.

His awareness of their surrounding returns so suddenly it hurts. Birds sing, bugs buzz and chirp, somewhere nearby a creek burbles, and behind him on the path, something scuffs the ground and then snorts and sniffs harshly.

“No,” he says quietly. No, he refuses to allow this to be his reality. This cannot be happening. He won’t allow this to happen.

“Harley, bear,” Peter repeats, grip tightening.

Oh my God, this is happening.

“Don’t run,” he says in an undertone. “You’re not supposed to run.”

“We gotta run.”

“Peter, no.”

“Harley, there’s a fucking bear.”

“Listen to me—,”

“I’m gonna grab you—,”

“—we gotta stay still and—,”

“I’ll carry you and—,”

“—non-threatening so—,”

“I’m going to get you up a tree and then—,”

“—it won’t chase us.”

“—the bear will chase me.”

“Peter—,”

“It’ll be fine.”

“—no.”

~*~

He waits in the tree for over an hour, ankle throbbing, sick to his stomach with worry, wondering if he’ll ever see the idiot he stupidly fell in love with ever again. Even if he didn’t get eaten by the bear, he’s no good out here in the woods. He could be lost. He could be too hurt to move. He could be—

—covered in what smells like animal shit and standing balefully at the base of the tree.

“I need a hug,” Peter says, voice small.

“Did you—,”

“I did what needed to be done.”

“So that’s—,”

“Don’t say it. Do you need help getting down?”

“I’ll figure it out. Don’t touch me.”

“That’s fair. I’ll be in the lake. Will you bring me all of the soap and soap-like products we own?”

“Yeah. Gimme a minute.”

“Thanks, Harley.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

I love you. I’m glad you’re not dead. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come back. My life wouldn’t be the same without you in it. You’re everything I want.

“You’re an idiot,” he says.

Peter nods. “Yeah.”

~*~

“Black bears can run 35 miles per hour,” he says conversationally. They’re sprawled on a blanket while the fire crackles nearby (but not too close, they’ve had enough disasters for one day). His foot is propped on the tackle box, elevating his ankle and Peter is beside him, flat on his back staring up at the stars through the trees, close enough that their arms brush.

“Trust me, I know.”

“They can also climb trees,” he continues reading from his phone. “You should never climb a tree to avoid a bear.”

“Harley—,”

“If a bear notices you, stay calm. Most bears don’t want to attack you.”

“Dude, I get it.”

“Move away slowly and sideways. Do not run. Do not climb a tree.”

Peter snatches the phone out of his hands and sits up. “I panicked, okay? I can’t lose you! I had to get you out of there.”

He goes still, the crackling of the fire and the crickets the only sound in the night.

“Say again?”

“Don’t,” Peter says harshly, still holding his phone far out of reach. “Don’t make fun of me about this one. You don’t get it, okay?”

This isn’t how he expected this to happen. Hyper aware of his heart beating in his chest, he asks, “What don’t I get?”

“I was terrified.”

“And you think I wasn’t?”

“Not in the way I was. I was— It was like— It was like if anything happened to you, nothing would be okay ever again. I don’t—,” He pulls in a deep breath, chest heaving as his eyes shine uncommonly bright in the firelight. “I don’t know. You’re— Ever since we met things have just felt right and good in a way they hadn’t before and I’ve already lost so many people and then you were in danger and I couldn’t do nothing. I couldn’t.”

“Okay,” he says gently, sitting upright and scooting over on the blanket. “Okay.” He takes the phone and sets it aside then takes Peter’s hand in both of his. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m okay.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Peter says miserably, sniffing and wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. “I think I have been for a long time.”

“Well, that’s lucky because I think I’m in love with you too.”

“You— What?”

“Mhmm. Since at least this morning.”

Peter stares at him. His lips twitch. “This morning? For real? Are you teasing me?”

“A hundred percent serious. It hit me right before you dumped my tent poles all over 36th street. Unrelated, you should wear my clothes more often.” He pauses and then says, “I think today was the universe asking me if I was sure I wanted to be tied down to your dumb ass for the rest of forever.”

“And?” Peter asks, eyes wide in the firelight.

“Yeah,” he says, smoothing a curl away from his forehead. “I’m sure.”

Peter leans in and kisses him, soft and quick. “Is that okay?”

Heart in his mouth, he says, “I think you can do better.”

Peter laughs and smooths his thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

[kjack89]

Determination of Death (pt. 2/2)

Continued from here.

All of the angst. If y’all thought this was going to secretly be angst with a happy ending, well...you’ve got another think coming.

Former E/R, modern AU. CW: car accident, major injuries, discussion of end of life care, referenced major character death.

Joly led the way out of the meeting room, and Grantaire remembered only upon seeing the expectant faces staring at them from the waiting room that no one else knew what was going on. “Oh, and can you, uh, fill everyone else in?” he asked Joly weakly, unable to bring himself to look any of them in the eye. “You have my permission, or whatever.”

“Of course,” Joly said quietly. “Though you should know...they’ll probably have some opinions on what decision you should make.”

Grantaire snorted. “Your friends? Having opinions? I’m shocked, I tell you. Shocked.”

Joly cracked a small smile. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” he informed Grantaire. “It never has. Besides, it’s ‘our’.”

Grantaire frowned at his back. “Our what?”

“Our friends. Not just mine.”

Grantaire’s expression softened. “Maybe that was true before—” he started, but he broke off when Joly came to an abrupt stop outside of a hospital room door. “Is this it?”

Joly nodded. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

Grantaire’s initial instinct was to say no, but judging by the look on Joly’s face, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone with him, at least at first. “Yeah,” he said. “Please.”

“Of course.” Joly pushed the door open and held it for Grantaire, who took a deep breath before stepping into the room. It was quiet, especially compared to the chaos of the hospital; the only sounds were the beeping from the heart monitor and whooshing sound from what Grantaire assumed was the ventilator. 

And there, lying on the hospital bed, more still than Grantaire had ever seen him, was Enjolras.

Even with Enjolras’s head bandaged, even with his face bruised and bloody, even with tubes coming out of him from seemingly every angle, Grantaire still would have recognized him. Every line in Enjolras’s body was as familiar to Grantaire as breathing, even now, even like this, even after so much time had passed since he had last seen him.

He crossed to him almost without thinking, drawn as always to Enjolras like a moth to a flame. But this time, Enjolras didn’t glance up at him in irritation for disturbing him when he was working, or with his expression softening when he saw it was Grantaire. He didn’t tilt his head up automatically for a kiss or roll his eyes and brush Grantaire off. He didn’t scrunch his nose and groan because the alarm clock just went off and he didn’t want to get up yet.

He just lay there, completely still, and even though Grantaire had been expecting it, had been bracing himself for it, it still knocked the breath out of him.

Grantaire reached automatically for his hand, running his thumb automatically over the bare spot on Enjolras’s ring finger where his wedding ring had once sat. He wondered briefly what Enjolras had done with it. Grantaire used to joke to anyone who would listen that he had chucked his into the ocean because good fucking riddance, but he hadn’t – his wedding ring was in the back of the top drawer of his dresser. 

He had never been able to articulate why he kept it, but looking at Enjolras lying there like that, feeling the way his own heart stuttered in his chest, he thought he might’ve finally figured it out.

“He’s so warm,” he remarked absently, turning Enjolras’s hand over in his own, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Enjolras’s palm in a way that used to make the man laugh and scold him for tickling him, though there was no reaction now. “I don’t know what I was expecting—”

That wasn’t quite true. He had expected him to be cold.

He had expected him to be dead.

Sympathy was clear in Joly’s expression, and he reached out to gently touch Grantaire’s shoulder. “Are you ok?” he asked softly. 

Of course he wasn’t ok – he was never going to be ok again. But he forced a smile for Joly, and jerked a nod. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, looking back down at Enjolras again. “How – how soon do I need to make a decision?”

“Like I said, we’ll retest for brain activity in a few hours. If we still see some functioning, you technically have as long as you want or need—”

“Joly.” Grantaire didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to know – Joly knew him well enough to know he just wanted a straight answer.

“But I’d recommend making a decision on withdrawal of care sooner rather than later, especially if you want to donate his organs,” Joly finished. “The sooner we can harvest them, the better the chances are that they won’t suffer any damage.”

Grantaire nodded again, and Joly squeezed his shoulder. “If you need anything, just push the call button. I’m gonna…” Joly had to pause and clear his throat. “I’m gonna go fill everyone else in.”

“Good luck,” Grantaire told him, meaning it more than he could possibly convey. Joly patted him on the shoulder once more before leaving, and Grantaire was alone with Enjolras.

He had imagined this moment so many times, but never like this.

He sat down in one of the chairs next to Enjolras’s bed without letting go of Enjolras’s hand. Part of him wanted to touch Enjolras, to run his fingers across his cheekbone or trace the line of his jaw, but the bruising and swelling stopped him.

The last thing he wanted to do was cause Enjolras any more pain than he already had.

Instead, he raised Enjolras’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles like he had done a thousand times before. “Hey Enj,” he whispered. “It’s been a long time, huh? I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but...I think given the circumstances, we can make an exception.”

Enjolras didn’t respond, and Grantaire just sat like that for a long time, holding Enjolras’s hand in both of his, completely unaware of anything else, including the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

----------

Maybe it was the fact that he’d gotten no sleep the night before, or maybe it was the unbearable emotional trauma, but at some point Grantaire must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, someone was shaking his shoulder gently. “Hey,” Joly said, sounding just as tired as Grantaire felt. “I figured you could use some company.”

Grantaire slowly sat up, looking automatically at Enjolras, who hadn’t so much as shifted in the bed. He was still holding Enjolras’s hand, and he squeezed it once, even though he knew he wouldn’t get a response. “I’m always happy for company, but you’ve had an impossibly long day. Shouldn’t you be getting home and getting some sleep?”

“I actually wasn’t talking about myself,” Joly said, opening the door. “I brought some other folks who want to see Enjolras.” Grantaire blinked as all of Les Amis filed in, many with telltale red eyes and exhaustion tightening their features. “Visitors are supposed to be limited to no more than four, but I figured no one in the hospital would mind. Provided, um, you don’t mind either.”

As if Grantaire could very well kick them out now that they were all in there, looking at him expectantly. “Of course not,” Grantaire mumbled, looking back at Enjolras before standing up stiffly. “Someone else can sit with him for a bit—”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Combeferre and Courfeyrac had sat down, Courfeyrac taking Enjolras’s hand, and Grantaire bit back the jealousy he had absolutely no right to feel at that.

He ducked his head as he pushed through to the back of the room, nodding in response to the few murmured greetings he got from the friends he hadn’t seen in almost as long as he hadn’t seen Enjolras. He found himself next to Jehan, who didn’t even hesitate, looping his arm through Grantaire’s and pulling him close, resting his head against Grantaire’s shoulder as if no time had passed at all.

“You doing ok?” he asked him in an undertone, and Grantaire just shrugged.

“Define alright,” he murmured, giving Jehan a tight, strained smile. “I’m alive. Which is about where the bar is at right now.”

Jehan stifled a laugh, which Grantaire found a little gratifying. Then again, if anyone would appreciate morbid humor at a time like this…

Judging by the dirty look Feuilly shot him from his other side, Jehan was about the only one who appreciated it.

He forced himself to look at Enjolras, watching as Combeferre reached up to rest a hand lightly on the top of Enjolras’s head, almost as if he was trying to stroke Enjolras’s hair despite it being hidden by bandages. Courfeyrac let out a shaky sigh. “He could almost be sleeping,” he said.

It took everything in Grantaire not to laugh, though clearly something of what he was feeling must’ve shown on his face, because Jehan arched an eyebrow at him. “What?” he whispered.

Grantaire shook his head, not intending on explaining, but this time, it wasn’t just Feuilly who gave him a look – everyone swiveled to stare at him, as if he had just sworn in church or something. “Nothing, it’s just…” Grantaire cleared his throat. “Clearly none of you ever saw Enjolras sleep. He was the least peaceful sleeper of all time. I think I’ve still got the bruises on my legs from him kicking me as he thrashed around, and it’s been a few years since I was subjected to it. It was like sleeping with a very large, particularly violent fish.”

Bossuet looked very much like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or cry. “That’s – that’s horrible.”

Grantaire shrugged, managing another small smile. “Maybe. But it’s also true.”

“I really don’t think,” Combeferre interjected, his voice sharp, “that this is an appropriate topic of conversation. If this is the type of thing you want to talk about, maybe you should step outside.”

Combeferre’s disapproval was hardly anything new, and maybe it was just because Grantaire’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point as it was, but he met Combeferre’s icy glare with one of his own. “And seeing as how this is still my husband and I’m still his medical proxy and you’re all here with my permission, maybe you should go fuck yourself,” he said pleasantly.

Combeferre stood up so suddenly that Courfeyrac, who had been resting his head against Combeferre’s shoulder, was almost knocked out of his chair. “Is that really how you want to do this?” he snapped, angrier than Grantaire had ever heard him. “You want a long, protracted legal battle while we get a judge to agree that while you were married to him for all of thirty seconds, we’re his family?:

Joly cleared his throat. “Guys—”

“Good luck with that,” Grantaire said with a smirk. “Just because you hate me doesn’t change the law. I know this wasn’t what you had in mind when you marched and protested in favor of gay marriage, but unintended consequences and all that—”

“Guys,” Joly repeated, louder this time. “All of you need to go outside. It’s time for us to do Enjolras’s repeat brain function tests.”

It was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Combeferre’s shoulders slumped, and all the fight left Grantaire just as quickly. They all filed out just as they had filed in, though this time, Grantaire went with them, refusing to look back at Enjolras, mainly because he wasn’t sure he would make it outside if he did. 

As soon as he got out in the hallway, Grantaire slumped with his back against the wall, slowly sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. He wanted nothing more than to hide his head in his hands, to block the world out so that he could pretend this was all a bad dream that he might still wake up from.

But that would just delay the inevitable, and Grantaire had never much cared for that option.

Instead, he forced himself to look up at Combeferre, who was avoiding looking at him. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and Combeferre’s eyes met his. “Of course I don’t want that. And I didn’t mean—”

“Neither did I,” Combeferre told him, exhaustion clear in his expression. “I know Enjolras loved you. Even after everything. We all do.” Grantaire glanced around the circle of his former friends, and all of them were nodding. His chest suddenly felt too tight, but before he could say anything, Combeferre continued, “And you know just as much as any of us. Probably better than most of us.” Combeferre gave Grantaire a tentative smile. “Besides, he and I had to share a bed at a conference once and I’m pretty sure I limped for about a month afterwards from how many times he kicked me.”

But Grantaire didn’t smile, Combeferre’s words picking open a scab on his heart that he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying with him. “I don’t know him anymore,” he said softly, and Combeferre’s smile disappeared. “I mean, honestly, I don’t know if I ever did. I thought I did once, maybe. But now…”

He trailed off, and they all fell into silence. After a few minutes like that, quiet, unrelated conversations broke out. Grantaire watched all these people he had once considered his closest friends, watched Courfeyrac wrap his arms around Pontmercy from behind, resting his head against Marius’s back because Marius was too tall for him to rest his chin on his shoulder. He watched as Jehan and Combeferre sat down across the hall, discussing some article they had both read in quiet tones, both clearly looking for a distraction. Bahorel and Feuilly offered to get coffee for anyone who wanted it, and both headed in the direction of the cafeteria, neither walking quite as fast as they usually did. Bossuet sat next to a pretty woman in scrubs who Grantaire didn’t know but realized must be Musichetta, who he had heard about but never gotten a chance to meet before everything fell apart. 

That was nice, Grantaire thought distractedly. They all had someone.

Well, except for him. 

Grantaire was alone.

When the door to Enjolras’s room opened and Joly stepped out, all conversation died. Joly’s expression was unreadable as he looked down at Grantaire. “We should talk privately,” he said, but Grantaire shook his head.

“Whatever you have to say, you might as well tell all of us,” he said tiredly. “Saves you from just having to repeat it in five minutes.”

Joly nodded. “Ok,” he said before taking a deep breath and glancing around at all of them. “The scans revealed the same level of brain activity as before. Meaning he is not legally brain dead.”

Grantaire groaned, tipping his head back to rest it against the wall. “So the ball’s in my court,” he said heavily, and Joly nodded again.

“Yes. It’s your decision where we go from here.”

Grantaire exhaled sharply before barking a laugh. “You know, the irony is, he said that I would know,” he said to no one in particular.

“What?” Combeferre asked, his brow furrowed.

“That’s why he picked me,” Grantaire said, staring up at the ceiling. “I told Enjolras when we got married that he should still make Pontmercy his medical proxy like everyone else did. Told him that I would probably be right there with him getting my ass kicked so I’d be useless anyway. But he said that he trusted me.” Tears pricked in the corners of Grantaire’s eyes but he didn’t bother trying to stop them as they fell. “He said that I’d know when his work was done, when it was time to let him go.”

Silence again fell over everyone, but this time, it was Bahorel who broke it, blurting, “That’s seriously what you two would talk about?” Everyone stared at him, and he shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I just – I always wondered.”

“I think we all did,” Jehan muttered, and Grantaire cracked a smile.

“In fairness, we talked about a lot of things, not just what to do in the case of a traumatic injury.” His smile faded. “But given the likelihood that he’d get his head bashed in at a protest one day, it wasn’t exactly a random hypothetical.” 

But in the end, it hadn’t been Enjolras’s activism that had killed him, the way Grantaire always feared it would. It had been a car accident, a random, cruel accident that had ended his entire world, and he was sure there was some lesson to be drawn from that, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

Instead, he twisted his head to look up at Joly. “Anyway, I, uh, I need some time.”

“Of course,” Joly said instantly. “Take as much time as you need.”

Grantaire looked away, glancing around the circle before adding, “And, um, everyone should take some time with him. To say...whatever you need to say.”

He let them work out who was going to go in first as he instead picked himself up off the floor and made his way over to Marius to ask in an undertone, “Can we talk?”

Marius nodded, looking concerned, and they walked away down the hallway. “What’s up?” he asked when they were out of earshot.

Grantaire let out a shaky breath. “I, uh...honestly?” He let out a noise that might’ve been a cough, or a very dry laugh. “It’s going to sound stupid, but I wanted to make sure I haven’t committed tax fraud.”

Whatever Marius had been expecting, that was clearly not it, since he stared at Grantaire as if he’d grown a second head. “Tax fraud?” he repeated.

“Yeah, since I’ve been under the impression that I’ve been divorced, I’ve been filing my taxes as single.”

Marius barked a laugh, quickly covering his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not funny. None of this is funny. I just can’t believe that’s what you’re worried about.”

Grantaire flinched. “I mean, I’m worried about a lot of things. This is just something that I can do something about.” He glanced at Marius. “Or not, and the IRS is putting a warrant out for my arrest as we speak.”

Marius laughed again, but gentler this time. “You will not be going down for tax fraud,” he said. “The designation is single or married filing separately, which you technically are. Or were.”

The past tense was like a knife to the gut, and Grantaire jerked a nod. “Good,” he said hollowly. “Because if I go down for tax fraud because Enjolras forgot to file our fucking divorce papers, I swear to God, I’ll kill him myself.”

Something shifted in Marius’s expression. “You know, I’m not sure he did.”

“Did what?” Grantaire asked tiredly.

“Forget,” Marius said, before adding in what he clearly thought was a helpful way, as if Grantaire was incapable of following the simple thread of the conversation, “To file the papers, I mean. I think he didn’t file them on purpose.”

Grantaire stared blankly at him. “And yet he clearly didn’t want to be married to me, so…”

Marius shrugged. “Maybe not. I can’t speak to that.” He hesitated before telling Grantaire, “Technically this is breaking attorney-client privilege, but...he came to me, after you had signed the papers. And he asked me what would happen to his trust fund in the divorce.”

“His trust fund?” Grantaire asked blankly.

“Yeah,” Marius said. “According to your pre-nup, in the case of divorce, all of his original assets revert to his sole ownership, save for what he would owe in spousal support.”

Grantaire shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I never wanted his money—”

“But Enjolras didn’t want that,” Marius continued as if Grantaire hadn’t spoken. “He wanted to make sure you had more than that. So I started to tell him about the process of signing over certain trusts to your name, and he blew me off. Said he’d take care of it.”

“Right.” 

Grantaire wasn’t sure what he was agreeing with, but it didn’t really matter, since Marius ignored him. “But I think what he meant is that he’d take care of you.”

Again, Grantaire’s chest felt painfully tight. “By pretending we were divorced?” he asked skeptically.

Marius shrugged again. “Well, I’ve never once argued that the man’s methods were anything resembling sane, but…” Almost despite himself, Grantaire laughed and Marius managed a small smile. “But yeah, I think that was what he was trying to do.” 

Grantaire shook his head slowly. “After all this time...I really didn’t think he could surprise me anymore.”

“He loved you,” Marius said simply. “I don’t know what happened between you two, and frankly, I don’t want to. But I know that much is true.” Grantaire couldn’t seem to speak, but Marius looked like he understood. “Anyway,” he said, “can I answer any other legal questions for you? Or do anything at all?”

Grantaire was about to tell him no when a sudden realization hit. “Actually, yes,” he said. “Can you get Combeferre and Courfeyrac for me? I want to talk to them.”

---------

As it turned out, between everyone saying their goodbyes to Enjolras and the general chaos of the hospital, including a very angry nurse coming to tell them that they were all liable to get kicked out if they didn’t keep it down, Grantaire didn’t get a chance to talk to Combeferre and Courfeyrac together until it was just the three of them left in Enjolras’s hospital room. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were seated on either side of Enjolras, and Grantaire stood at the end of the bed, wanting to be anywhere but there, talking about anything but what he needed to.

“What would you two do?” he asked finally, when the silence had gotten truly unbearable.

Combeferre looked sharply at him. “Legally, it’s not our decision to make.”

“I know that,” Grantaire said tiredly. “But you knew him better than I did these past few years, and I want to know what you would do.”

Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchanged glances, and it was Courfeyrac who spoke first. “Enjolras wanted to help people,” he said simply. “Yeah, his aim was always more systemic, because he knew as well as any of us that to truly help folks in the long term required breaking the system that was oppressing them in the first place, but that’s still what he wanted to do: to help.” He paused and took a deep breath. “And I think that in this case, even though it’s not a systemic help, he would still want to help people with his death, if he could. So I would– I would withdraw life support so that he could donate his organs.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “What about you?” he asked Combeferre hoarsely.

Combeferre shook his head, looking back at Enjolras. “I know what the statistics are,” he said, his voice low. “And logic would say that pulling the plug probably makes the most sense, given the odds of him recovering. But as long as there is a chance, any chance…” He swallowed. “Science is progressing rapidly and he could live like this for years, until they’ve developed a treatment that could bring him back to us. We learn more about the brain and healing from brain injuries every single day, and he deserves a chance to see if we discover how to heal him.” He raised his chin as he looked back at Grantaire, something like defiance in his expression. “His work is not done, and I can’t imagine him giving up that chance, no matter how slim the odds are.”

Again Grantaire nodded. “In other words, you’re both completely fucking useless.”

“Enjolras said as much, many, many times,” Courfeyrac said with something like his usual cheerfulness. “Everytime he wanted us to agree with him on something and we didn’t.”

“So like, once a week, at least,” Combeferre muttered, and he and Courfeyrac exchanged a smile at the shared memory. Then he looked back at Grantaire. “But at the end of the day, we’re not the ones making this choice. He didn’t—” His voice broke. “He didn’t choose us. He chose you. And you know him better than you think you do, because you know the parts of him that none of us ever got to see.”

Grantaire opened his mouth to argue with that, but Courfeyrac stood, squeezing Enjolras’s hand once more before releasing it. “We should leave you alone,” he said softly. “Give you some time with him.” He looked at Grantaire, his eyes shining. “Whatever choice you make, you have my full support. Because despite everything, I know you loved him. And that’s enough for me.”

Grantaire could feel tears threatening to fall again, but this time, he brushed them forcefully away as Combeferre and Courfeyrac slipped away. Grantaire took Combeferre’s vacated seat, staring down at Enjolras as if the man might give him a sign, any sign.

He had hoped Combeferre and Courfeyrac would give him some kind of clarity, but he should’ve known they wouldn’t. Especially since they were both completely wrong.

They had known Enjolras, yes, and loved him, but they hadn’t loved him like Grantaire had. Like Grantaire still did. Loving Enjolras for Grantaire had always meant seeing more than just the leader of Les Amis, but seeing the whole man, even for all his many, many faults. Enjolras cared deeply like Courfeyrac had said, yes, but not about helping any one person; he cared only about destroying the systems that kept people in whatever metaphoric chains he cared about that week. He wouldn’t be swayed by the argument that he could save lives or else he would’ve been a living kidney or partial liver donor. 

And he wasn’t a hopeless believer either like Combeferre seemed to think. The thought of Enjolras waiting around for a miracle that might not even happen was utterly laughable. The man’s patience was non-existent. He wouldn’t be content to lie in bed for years on end. He was a man of action, and if there was nothing actionable, it wasn’t anything worth his time. It was, after all, probably why he had been so quick to give up on them, since there wasn’t anything left for him to do or fix.

There was only one argument that would sway Enjolras, one way or another. An argument about the Cause, about the work left undone, and as much as Grantaire was the wrong messenger for anything relating to the Cause or Enjolras’s work, he knew that only he could tell Enjolras what he needed to hear.

Grantaire would obviously never know, but he couldn’t help but think that this was why Enjolras had chosen him. Because whatever else he was, or wasn’t, had been or hadn’t, Enjolras was already gone. Whether they removed the ventilator today or tomorrow or in a week or a year, Enjolras would not be any less gone.

But Grantaire had already lost him, years ago now, and maybe that’s why Enjolras had let this be his decision. 

Because he was the only one who could make it.

And he knew what he had to do.

So he squeezed Enjolras’s hand one more time before standing and going to the door, his eyes clear for the first time all day. “Can you get Joly for me?” he asked Courfeyrac, who was standing closest to the door as if keeping watch. “I’ve made my decision.”

----------

Grantaire stroked the top of Enjolras’s head, pretending that the rough bandages under his fingers were instead the fine blond curls he had never quite been able to capture with the right color when he painted Enjolras. He had spent hours some evenings just running his fingers through Enjolras’s hair, watching the different shades of gold tumble through his fingers, while Enjolras had worked on something or other. 

He would always miss that, in particular, those evenings they spent just the two of them. He would always miss the version of Enjolras that had been his husband. But that was an old hurt now, no matter how much circumstances might make it feel brand new again.

“Damn you,” he said, which wasn’t exactly how he had anticipated starting his goodbye speech, but if he couldn’t be honest in these last moments, then when could he? “Damn you for loving me, and leaving me, and still somehow putting me in this position. For making me be the one to decide, and the one who has to live with that for the rest of my life. You always were an asshole, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but…”

He trailed off, and took Enjolras’s hand, lacing their fingers together, marveling as he always had at how well their hands fit together. There had been a part of them that had always worked, even when nothing else between them seemed to, and it had been that part that he had clung to even when they were well past their expiration date. 

He wondered if that was the part that had stopped Enjolras from filing the papers.

“We were supposed to die together,” he whispered, the breath hitching in his throat. “That’s what I promised, when we got married. That we would be together until we were old. And even if we died early, because of a protest gone bad or something, I still just assumed it’d be you and me leaving together. I never– I never thought I’d be the one left behind.”

He lifted Enjolras’s hand to his mouth again, this time pressing a kiss to the finger where, years ago, he had placed his ring and promised Enjolras he would love him forever. “I didn’t lie, you know,” he told Enjolras. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you.” He shook his head slowly. “I will you until the day I die, no matter if you’re still here or not. And—” His voice broke. “And Joly wasn’t supposed to tell me this, I think it’s supposed to be confidential, but...at least a part of you will still be here. Because there’s a 10-year-old girl in Pennsylvania who’s going to get your kidney. And a 45-year-old father of two who’s getting part of your liver. And your heart—” Again his voice broke. “And your heart is going to keep beating for a very long time because it’s going to a 28-year-old woman.” 

When Joly had told him where Enjolras’s organs were going, when Grantaire signed all the consent forms, he had told him as if it was a comfort, somehow, as if Grantaire didn’t now have a list of people to resent because they were going to live, and Enjolras was not. 

But it was better than no comfort at all.

“You have done more in your brief life than most people could accomplish in two lifetimes,” Grantaire continued, “and more importantly, you are leaving behind people who will continue doing your work. That’s the part of you that I know you care about, so you can rest easy knowing that they will carry you with them for the rest of their lives, fighting the battles you always wanted to. And as for the rest, well—” He was sure that he was crushing Enjolras’s hand with how tightly he held it. “I’ll carry that with me. I’ve got you, I promise. I always have.”

He had figured he would cry, would weep, but instead, he felt strangely at peace, looking down at Enjolras and telling him all of the things he had always wanted to say but had never been able to bring himself to. Just their fucked up luck that it had taken this. 

He leaned in close, his voice no more than a whisper as he told him, fiercely, “Others will take your place in the Cause, and keep fighting. I promise you that. So you can rest now, ok?” He bent over Enjolras and kissed his forehead, his eyelids fluttering closed. “It’s all I ever wanted for you, was for you to rest. And maybe this is selfish of me, maybe it's the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t care.” He opened his eyes, searching Enjolras’s face for some sign, any sign, that he heard, that he understood. He knew he wouldn’t find any, but that didn’t matter. 

“The work will never be done, but your part in it is.” His voice cracked. “I love you, and you can stop fighting now.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, Grantaire holding onto Enjolras with everything that he had left. Then a nurse poked her head into the room. “Are you ready?” she asked softly.

It was an asinine question. Of course Grantaire wasn’t ready. He was never going to be ready.

But he jerked a nod anyway and stood, taking a step back so the flurry of doctors and nurses could make Enjolras ready to move, so they could take him to the operating room where they would remove his life support and take the organs he was able to donate. “I love you,” he told Enjolras one last time, something desperate in his voice. “I love you. Don’t fight anymore, ok? Just...just rest.” 

“Sir,” one of the nurses said, her voice gentle. “Sir, you have to let him go.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said numbly. “Of course.”

And he let go of Enjolras’s hand.

[radiantroope]

Never Let You Go || Rafe Cameron

pairing: rafe x routledge!reader; john b x sister!reader

mentions: jj, topper, big john, kie and pope briefly

requested: no

warnings: angst, swearing, underage drinking, is heartbreak a warning, fluff at the end

a/n: this idea popped into my head so here you go! hopefully y’all don’t hate it as much as i kinda do

masterlist || add yourself to my tag list

FLASHBACKS ARE IN ITALICS

* i do not own this gif; all credit goes to the owner

“Why won’t you look at me?” you asked softly, sitting on the soft, unmade king sized bed.

Rafe stood shirtless across the room, chest heaving with heavy breaths. He had his back to you. One hand was against the wall in a clenched fist, the other running through his long hair.

“Rafe.”

“What do you want me to say? Huh?!” he turned to you, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down.

“I don’t know, that you feel it too?! I would expect something a little more after I just said I love you!” you shouted, throwing your arms up exaggeratedly.

Rafe shook his head and let out a dark laugh. Something in his eyes changed and you felt a tug at your heart strings. After seeing each other for a year, you figured he would have the same feelings as you. Yeah you were never exclusive, but everyone knew you were together. Everyone knew Rafe wasn’t sleeping with anyone else.

“But I don’t, (Y/N). This has been sex, that’s all. Really good sex,” every word he spoke cut through you like a knife. Then he ripped out your heart and stomped on it right in front of you, “I could never love a Pogue like you.”

Just less than two years. You left home at seventeen and here you were, driving back through the same island you grew up on, almost nineteen now. Figure Eight looked just the same as it used to, a few newer, bigger houses were built. But it still looked the same. The Cut was no different. Your heart ached as you drove past the run down houses.

You arrived at the old house and parked behind the Volkswagen van. Memories flooded your brain of you and John B playing in the yard when you were younger. A frown pulled at your lips.

You walked up to the front door and tried the knob, turning it with ease and swinging it open. You grimaced slightly at the sight in front of you. Beer cans and bottles littered all the surfaces along with dead juul pods and joint roaches. The pullout couch was open and unmade. It wreaked of stale booze and marijuana.

“Dude, I’m telling you, they’re wrong. I’m not signing those fucking papers,” your heart rate sped up significantly when you heard that voice. He sounded so much older but still the same.

You stood in middle of the room as John B came out of your father’s old room. He did a double take, stopping dead in his tracks at the end of the small hallway. His hazel eyes were glued to your face like he’d seen a ghost.

“Hi, bubba,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

John B rushed to you, scooping you in his arms by the waist and squeezing you tight. You heard a choked sob leave his lips. One of your hands rested on the back of his head and the other arm wound tightly around his shoulders.

He was so much taller now. He looked like a full grown man. His hair was longer and his skin was tanner, more freckled than it used to be. But he was still the sweet little brother you remembered and adored.

“I’m here, shh, you’re okay,” you cooed softly, hand stroking over his curls gently.

“You’re all I have left,” John B’s broken voice had those tears falling immediately. You mentally kicked yourself for waiting so long to come home. You should have been here sooner. You’d gotten the call from Peterkin a month ago about your father’s disappearance, you just hadn’t worked up the nerve to return.

“What did I tell you? That’s why I told you to stay off the North side and stay away from those people!” Big John had been yelling for well over half an hour. Instead of comforting his daughter when she came home in tears, he was berating her. He scolded her for getting mixed up in the Kook life and falling for one of them.

“Do you think I meant for this to happen?! I was just doing what you told me to, Dad! I’m trying to make a better life for myself!”

“And how’s that working out for you? The real world ain’t pretty is it, sweetheart? Why don’t you be like your brother and get a real fucking job instead of mooching off rich scum!” Big John damn near flipped the kitchen table as he stood up. “If you don’t get your shit together, (Y/N), you may as well just leave.”

The office door slammed shut and you were left standing alone in the middle of the kitchen, hands shaking and angry tears streaming down your cheeks. In a hurry, you rushed into yours and John B’s shared bedroom. You pulled out the only two duffle bags you had and hastily started shoving your clothes in one. As many personal items as you could fit were shoved in the other.

John B sat crisscross in the middle of his bed. He’d been listening to you and your father fight the whole time. He knew what you were doing but he couldn’t let you go without a fight.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” his voice was so small and pained. Your poor little brother was too young to have to deal with this. He had only just turned fifteen.

You stopped packing and stood up, turning to face John B slowly. He was staring up at you, tears swimming in his eyes. You walked over and sat down next to him.

“I can’t do this anymore, JB. I can’t live with him constantly looking at me like some failure,” you told your brother softly. It wasn’t just your father. Your fight with Rafe and everything he said was weighing heavy on your mind as well. You just wanted to get off that island and never look back.

“Then just make him happy! Do what he says and stay! I don’t want you to go.”

You smiled sadly and brushed your brother’s curls away from his eyes. You leant down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I wouldn’t be me if I did that, bubba. I wouldn’t be living my life,” you explained.

John B’s arms wrapped around your waist and he cried into your shoulder, knowing nothing he said would make you stay. You held him tightly to your side until his cries were mere sniffles. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and looked up at you.

“I love you.”

You bit your trembling bottom lip and nodded, whispering, “I love you too, John B. Always. I’ll come back one day, I promise.”

“We need to throw a welcome back party,” JJ said from his spot on a chair on the screened in porch. He was rolling a joint, eyebrows knitted in concentration, eyes nearly crossed from how closely he held it to is face.

You were laid on the couch, hands behind your head as you stared up at the ceiling. You hummed in response, not completely opposed to the idea. One thing you missed about the OBX were the parties. People on the mainland just didn’t know how to do it like the islanders.

“Kegger at the Boneyard?” John B suggest from the chair beside JJ, eyebrows raised as he looked between the two of you.

“I’m always down for a kegger,” you responded while sitting up, letting out a small laugh. “Am I really about to go to a party with my little brother?”

John B scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Our parties are the best. You’ve been missing out.”

“I’ll just have to see that for myself won’t I?” you responded with a wink, standing from the couch and going into the house to get ready.

You went into your father’s old room and dig through your bags until you found a proper outfit. You took a quick shower to rid yourself of sweat and sand, using your favorite rose scented body wash. You knew there was a chance that you’d see Rafe tonight, and you wanted to make damn sure that you looked your best.

The party was in full swing at the Cameron house. Ward was away on a business trip, so Rafe was taking full advantage of having the house to himself. He kept checking his phone in hopes that he’d see a text with your name attached, but one never came.

Regret bubbled in the dirty blonde’s stomach at what he’d said to you a few days before. He hadn’t seen you since that night and he was craving the feeling of your lips on his. Usually if the two of you argued, it was only about a day before one of you was crawling back. He knew what he said probably hurt you so he was giving you your space.

Rafe’s eyes scanned over the crowd of people, hoping to see your familiar head of h/c hair. He didn’t find you. Instead, he made his way over to his best friend in hopes that maybe someone had seen you. You never missed a good party.

“Hey, Top, have you seen (Y/N)?”

The smile Topper had previously been wearing slowly fell. He glanced around the room and looked back at Rafe with an unreadable expression.

“Dude, what?” Rafe’s tone was annoyed. Clearly his friend knew something that he didn’t and he wanted him to spit it out.

“(Y/N)’s gone, Rafe. Word on the street is she ran away the other night. She left,” Topper told him.

Rafe stared at Topper with a blank expression, heart hammering against his chest. He turned quickly and made a beeline for the backdoor, ignoring the shouts of his name from behind him. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and needed to get out of that crowd.

The blonde Kook pulled out his phone and dialed your number, holding the device to his ear with a shaking hand. A dial tone pierced his ear before an automated voice came through.

“We’re sorry, but the number you’re trying to reach has been disconnected...”

Rafe hung up, breathing deeply through nose before trying again. The same message repeated back to him four more times. In anger, he threw his phone against the brick of the house with a shout. He ran his fingers through his long hair and tried to suck in a few shaky breaths.

“Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his hands against the house.

“Yo, chill out dude! What happened?” Topper approached his friend after seeing his outburst. He was shocked when Rafe turned to him with tears blurring his vision.

Rafe’s voice shook as he responded sadly, “She fucking left because of me!” He put his hands on top of his head and turned away. He didn’t know if Topper heard him, but he continued, even if he was just talking to himself, “I fucking told her I didn’t love her and now she’s gone.”

When you arrived at the Boneyard, Pope and Kiara already had one keg set up. John B and JJ carried a second one down to the sand. The were already a few people from The Cut there, catching word early of the party. You couldn’t stop smiling as John B passed you a cup of cheap beer.

You fiddled with the radio that was near the kegs until you found a good station. You turned the volume up and started dancing to the song that came on as you made your way back over to your brother and his friends.

“A toast!” JJ shouted, raising his red solo cup in the air. Everyone followed his actions with grins stretched across their lips. “To (Y/N) motherfucking Routledge! Welcome home!”

The five of you cheered and knocked your cups together then downed some of the bitter liquid. You grimaced as you forced it down your throat and shook your head in disgust. You did not miss warm, cheap beer.

A couple of hours passed and the Boneyard filled up with all kinds of people. Kids from The Cut, Tourons, and even Kooks. So far no one had started a turf war and you were thankful for that. You didn’t want to remember your first party back like that.

You had been chatting with a couple of your old friends near the bonfire when a blonde caught your eye through the flames. You excused yourself from the small group and made your way around the fire to the familiar person.

“Topper Thornton?” you spoke through a laugh, watching said boy turn around. He looked shocked at first then a wide smile stretched across his face.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, marching through the sand and wrapping you a welcomed hug. “When did you get back?!”

“Yesterday,” you responded with a smile when he pulled back. You found your eyes glancing at the people around him, looking for someone.

Topper noticed and his eyes drifted behind you, smile never leaving his face. You already knew who he was looking at so you didn’t bother turning around.

“You should talk to him.”

“I can’t, Topper. It’s been almost two years and I have nothing to say to him,” you sighed, bringing your cup up to your lips and taking a gulp of your beverage.

“Try, (Y/N). He was never the same when he found out you were gone. He’s been fucked up over it ever since,” the blonde boy tried to reason with you.

He fell silent and looked to his right just as you felt a presence beside you. You looked up and directly into the bright blue eyes you fell in love with. The eyes you still dreamt about. The eyes you desperately missed after all this time. They were your favorite shade of blue.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Rafe said nervously, clutching a red cup in his fingers. His other hand was shoved in the pocket of his shorts. He heard the rumors that you were back. He came to the party to see for himself if it was true.

The sound of his voice was a shot to the heart. You almost forgot what it sounded like for him to say your name. You felt dizzy, like you couldn’t breathe and suddenly, you regretted agreeing to this stupid party in the first place. Without a word, you spun on your heel and started walking away.

“Wait,” Rafe called after you, following your quick steps down the beach. “(Y/N) wait!”

“What?! What Rafe?” you screamed as you turned around quickly to face the dirty blonde. You had made it pretty far down the beach, just barely able to hear the music.

“I-I haven’t seen you in almost two years and you don’t even want to talk to me?” he had stopped as well, standing a few feet away from you.

You scoffed and shook your head, running a hand through your hair. You had dropped your cup back where you walked away from Topper. Getting drunk was the last thing on your mind now.

“What did you expect? Hm?” you questioned, taking a menacing step closer to the man in front of you. “Did you really think the first thing I’d do was come to you and beg you to take me back? Expect me to crawl into bed with you?”

“No- I-”

“So you can tell me i was just a good fuck and that’s it?!” you were thankful no one lived in the woods behind you or the cops would have surly been called at the volume you were yelling at.

“I didn’t say it like that!” Rafe yelled back, also taking a step closer to you.

“Ah, you’re right,” you smacked your lips and held a finger to your chin in mock thought. “Your exact words were actually ‘this has been sex, that’s all. Really good sex. I could never love a Pogue like you.”

You were staring at each other now. Rafe was frowning and your eyes were like a fire burning into him. He remained silent.

“That’s right, Rafe. I never forgot. Those words still haunt me to this day.”

He never forgot either. He would regret saying them until the day he died. And he didn’t care if he had to spend forever making it up to. He would give anything to take it all back and maybe you would have stayed.

“I didn’t mean it,” Rafe’s voice shook. “I was.. I was scared.”

“Bullshit,” you muttered and turned to walk away again. He caught your wrist and spun you back around, his face within inches of yours.

“You can believe it or not, I don’t care. I love you, (Y/N). I always have and I was a fucking idiot to make you think I didn’t,” his voice was softer now, ocean blue eyes staring into your e/c ones. You saw no trace of dishonesty on his face. You could see nothing but pure regret and guilt in his eyes. “I was scared of loving you. I didn’t deserve to be loved by you so I pushed you away. We were so young I didn’t think we could even be in love. I will never be able to take back the pain I caused you, but I swear, I will try and make it up to you for the rest of my life.”

Rafe’s grip slowly released on your wrist. If you wanted to walk away, he was going to let you. He said everything he needed to say, and he meant every word. He was shocked when your hands came up and cupped his cheeks. Your touch was delicate, like you were going to break him.

The truth was, he said everything you’d been waiting to hear for the last two years. Deep down you knew that’s exactly what he was doing back then but you were just too hurt to do anything about it. The fighting with your father just piled on top of that, so you ran away from it all. Here and now, you were ready to let go of that painful past. You were ready to be loved by Rafe Cameron.

“Say it again,” you whispered, hands winding around the back of his neck.

“I love you, (Y/N) Routledge,” Rafe’s voice was confident, hands finding their way to your waist. He pulled you closer, until your chests were pressed together and you could feel the rapid beating of the other’s heart.

You pulled his head down and connected your lips in one of the most mind blowing kisses you’d ever had. Two years of pent up emotions came pouring out. Your lips moved in synchronization desperately, savoring each second; making up for lost time. His arms wound around your back and lifted you, your legs wrapping around his hips.

Rafe pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, soft pants leaving his parted lips. You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling like a giddy schoolgirl. John B was going to kill you when he found out, but that thought was quickly pushed away.

“I’ll never let you go again,” Rafe whispered through a smile before reconnecting your lips.

[mydayserenade]

My Dear Starlight

Yunho x OC

rom, angst, fluff (???)

first time playing around w/ this kind of genre so apologies if its shitty

i suggest listening to Fix You by Coldplay cause it will definitely send you to sad hours while reading

"Do you remember the last time we went star-gazing? It was the night before I eventually confessed to you, we were lying on the grass and I was pretty much sleep deprived and alongside handling an empty stomach that was growling" he said and chuckled, reminiscing the sweet moment ever so vividly like it happened just yesterday. Yunho took his attention off the sky and watched silently as his fiance gaze the starry night without even noticing him staring at her like she was the brightest thing to ever exist as of the moment, which has always been a thing for them to do to each other... but mostly Yunho.

"I do dummy, can you believe it has been 5 years since then? Time flies so fast" Luna responded, leaning towards her right side to get a closer look at Yunho's visuals "And now here we are, engaged and a few months away from officially tying the knot." she giggled, toying with the necklace that he gave to her during their first anniversary and looked back at the night once more to admire it; the moon dawned on them like a bright spotlight, the sky was as blue as the deep sea, complimenting the shining stars that laced the sky, telling tales of long lost lovers which completed the visually angelic twilight that these two would share for hours.

Yunho looks over to his paramour with the endearment in his doey eyes and smiles ever so sweetly as she laid beside him, interlocking hands with one another and her hair that sprawled like beautiful waves; in a swift move he sits himself up and props Luna to lay down on his chest. Luna responds in a squeak, shocked by the sudden gesture her fiance did.

"Whenever you miss me" Yunho broke the silence between them and rested his cheek on the head of his soon-to-be Mrs. Jeong, she flinches as she felt his warm arms wrap around her chest, feeling his heartbeat going at a slow but steady pace.

"Um, where are you going with this?" she asked confusingly as Yunho snuggled on her neck, inhaling the delicate perfume that he oh so loved whenever she would put it on; he breathes in the intoxicating fragrance and lets out a satisfied sigh before he continued.

"It's just an intrusive thought" he replied and continued to snuggle, "but whenever you miss me while I'm away or when I suddenly get called by the House of Hufflepuff" he said jokingly in the last part, receiving a slap on the arm by her and continued on. "Look up at the night sky and think of me. My mom always told me that I had a special connection with celestial things most especially stars. I thought it was just nonsense she shared with me as a teenager but as I got older and took into consideration the feelings I had and enviroment or situations I was in, I did notice a few things that made me convinced that my mom was indeed right about her speculations." Luna was bewildered, all she could do was laugh. This was the first time she has ever heard of this story from Yunho considering the fact they've been together for 5 years, 24/7, 365 and he would often share his most atrocious memories; even his embarassing ones. She looked up at Yunho who was looking straight at her, showing how perplexed she was by her furrowed brows and confused grin.

"So you're telling me, God decided to make your bloodline 40% human and 60% celestial and as you age the more you feel connected with these things, will somehow tingle in your bones and signal you to shoot supernovas out of your hands like Starfire or some shit whenever it's nightime?" she asks.

"You're phrasing it like it's a crazy Sci-Fi movie Luna, I wasn't even finished." Yunho eyerolls and massages the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh of annoyance. Luna enjoyed teasing him and seeing him all fired up; even if Yunho had a fierce exterior that people would be afraid of approaching, only few knew his childish side and how young at heart he was for things that he loved and took interest in.

"Go on continue, I was just annoying you." she giggles at the sight of him pouting and scrunching up his nose, Yunho takes a deep breath before he proceeds to the next.

"Eversince I was a little boy and when there were times where I had no one to play around with" Yunho looks up at the stars and grows a grin on his face as he points upward "they were always my companion and relate to how I was feeling. Whenever I felt happy, it would always blink at me, become bigger in size and blind me with its light; however when I felt sad, it would always shrink and release very little light. It would sometimes respond to the many queries I had and decisions by its blinking, it somehow felt like I had a mood lamp with me everywhere I go." he crooks his head to the right, scoffing at the many memories of him that flashed in his mind. "Even if I had no one to talk to at that time, as crazy as it sounds, the stars comforted me in a way that is unexplainable."

"It felt like someone understood the things you were going through like no one else has, almost as if you had an alternate you up in the galaxies." Luna looked up at how Yunho admired each white dot with the happiness in his eyes, looking so astonished like a little kid who just visited a candy store for the very first time. She now understood the many moments where he would suddenly look up the sky while driving, walking or even eating and just stare for seconds before eventually returning to what he was doing, almost as if he was thanking the heavens above or checking up on them like they were part of his family.

"You understand now? Whenever that time comes, just look up and I'm there." He whispers in Luna's ear, hands interlocking with hers and giving her a soft kiss on the head. Luna couldn't help but tear up by the gentle gesture Yunho did, the tale he had told and the thought of not seeing him for even a second. He was her rock and she was his, not a day would go by if they did not see each other in between the hours.

"I do Yunho, I do." she sits up and faces Yunho, cupping his face with her warm hands with Yunho gently caressing it and gives him a gentle kiss on the lips.

6 years later...

"I'm here" Luna whispered, standing in the middle of the silent and deserted park which was quiet enough to hear her; holding onto her precious necklace, she looked up the sky, admiring the white dots that scattered the sky. The stars were a bit different from normal, they were shining and twinkling more and more, almost as if it was calling out to her in morse code.

"You should really try and hide your excitement to a bare minimum, see this is why I never planned any surprise parties with you" she scoffed and sat down on the grass, closing her eyes and completely taking in the midnight breeze that brushed against her skin and blew on her hair. She lets out a sigh and toyed with the golden chain that was entangled on her fingers, feeling every abrasion and imperfection this necklace presented.

"You're probably wondering why I am here at 3 am in the morning" she said, fluttering her eyes to a vast field with streetlights surrounding it, "Awww man" Luna laughed, "You're most likely gonna kill me if I went out especially in this hour, well truth be told Mr. Jeong; are you battling me now with this cold gust of wind you blow?"

No one responds.

"I thought so too." she said under her breath as she hangs her head down, taking a deep breath before she continued to talk.

"I came here because I couldn't really sleep well these past few days and" she starts to choke up, sniffling and trying her absolute best to not break down, that's the last thing he would want Luna to do... especially in a time like this. "I don't know" she shrugs, rubbing her hands on her face. "I've been in my head too much, I've been emotionally unstable for the first time in a long time and I'm just" she suddenly pauses while a million thoughts circulates her mind. She urged herself to keep a strong and stable state for the past 6 years in front of friends and family, always say she was doing alright and all but deep down inside she was suffering the greatest loss of all and couldn't even bare to hold it in any longer.

"Yunho I'm so so so sorry" she lets out her tears, hysterically wailing on the field. She clutches her heart, completely lost her sense of reality and just wanted to scream out the pain and tiredness she has been holding on for the past few years, hiding behind a facadé so that people around her would not have to feel the burden that she might put on them. The countless nights of tear stained pillows and fake happy days were all weeped away at this night, she looks up at the skies; frozen and chanting swear words like a maniac.

"I'm sorry for not noticing sooner how much you suffered on the inside, for being such an asshole to you during those times and for not being enough of a friend and wife to you." she whimpered, losing all her might to prop herself up. In a graceful fall she lands on the grass, curled up, shiverring and clutching her knees amidst the cold breeze and moist grass under her.

"I'm a terrible person, I'm a fucking disgrace, and yet somehow I still exist in this world when it should've been you who is still alive. I tried my best to not worry you every night by saying I was doing okay, that I was living good and this and that, but for the past few days..." she closes her eyes and squeezes the pendant with her palm as tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks, "The wave of guilt just hit me harder than ever and I honestly am not so sure I can carry on this shameful life that only keeps me breathing."

From the day she knew up until his deathbed, Yunho never wanted Luna to see him at his worst neither did he want her to struggle and pity him, but his condition allowed Luna to see her beloved slowly succumb bit by bit. As much as she wanted to help him; he would always brush it off, plaster on his dimpled smile and please her in the best of his abilities and strength even if his state wasn't the way it was before. He did not want Luna to regret the moments she had with him and only fill her memories with the pain that he had felt and the hardships he's going through. She didn't agree to any of his ordeals but he had tried and persuaded her to commit to his wishes, in the end however; it would only lead to many arguements and her cursing him out. Eventually she caved in and did the best she could to seize the days, nights and hours with the presence of her one and only love yet deep down inside she was guilty of not helping with his condition and wanted to cater to his medical needs even if she had to travel miles away to get what he asks for.

"I respected your wishes, I carried on the many months with you with a positive outlook and a cheery personality. I was happy during those times I'll admit, because I was by your side everyday until the last second of you breathing, but at the back of my mind I knew I should've gone against what you wanted me to do and assist to your needs." she runs her hand through her hair, fuming at the thought of herself not doing her part during the days of Yunho's struggles. "You told me that I shouldn't feel guilty as this isn't my fault that you were diagnosed with this and it isn't my business to meddle around something like this, but goddamnit Yunho" she breathes uncontrollably as tears yet again pools in her eyes "I'm your fucking wife! I'm your best friend! I have been with you for as long as I can remember and I have made a vow to you that I'm gonna take care of you and nurture you when needed until our hair turns gray and we are all wrinkled." She bursts into annoyance and disappointment. None of what she did made perfect sense to her, all she wanted was to cry and rewind time so that she can make up for the past mistakes she's done and the many regrets she wanted to be erased in her mind. Luna didn't have the energy to continue on and she just lied in the grass, sprawled out and cried until her lungs gave out. She felt pain, she felt disappointment, she felt useless, she felt defeated.

A blinding light then hovers over Luna's exhausted and tearstained body, at first she did not mind this but as the light lingered on her for how many minutes now, she was irritated to this God-like halo that did not want to leave her be. She then slowly opens her eyes and was immediately welcomed to a soft, bright and white light that the moon shined on her, way different from the previous. The stars then aligned, creating a mystical ceiling that somehow calmed Luna's nerves and distract her away from her thoughts, it shined excitingly but twinkled in a calm matter. Luna was in awe at how much beauty the sky emmited, she had completely felt relaxed and wiped the tears that streamed down her face. She goes on to bask under the moonlight and stars, breathing in and out and feeling liberated and worry-free, something she has never felt ever since Yunho was put to rest.

"Now I truly understand what you meant." she mumbled, feeling lighter than ever. Luna then proceeds to put back her shoes on and did a flying kiss to the air multiple times before she left the park. "I think I know what I need to do now." she smiled and took a deep breath.

"Thank you for giving me something I never believed in but eventually found myself with you, love." she sighs lovingly as she gets up and moves towards her car. She takes one last look at the stars and glances down the necklace she has been holding. "Thank you for tonight, see you soonest, my dear starlight."

[reelwriter19]

Lights Out

Pairings: Erik Stevens X Black Reader 

Warnings: ANGST, Fluff, implied smut

Word Count: 2200

“Shit!!!” Erik yelled accompanied by a loud thud so jarring it woke you out of the first sleep you were getting in days.

You replied in a pleading, groggy whisper. “E please! You’re gonna wake the baby. What the hell are you doing anyway?”

“The power went out…and he’s already up.”

You heard your sons faint cry on the monitor and rose from your favorite armchair in the living room like a zombie to go feed, burp, change, cuddle…whichever of the nine things, if not all, that he required at this ungodly hour. You chose to nap here because Erik was PMS’ing…again. You knew raising a child with this stubborn ass man wouldn’t be easy, but lately Erik was on another level of pissing you off. His latest complaint was the fact that you babied Bakari too much.

“But he’s 4 months old E!” ...you exclaimed. He thought he should already be sleeping on his own.

You argued that you’re still breastfeeding and it’s a trek to get to him in the middle of the night. “Are you gonna start producing something more than keloids and muscles out of that chest for him instead?!”

You knew there was a root cause to Erik’s frustration, but you also knew that he needed time to express his feelings. Extra time that you didn’t have to give right now. So, for the third night in a row, he went to bed angry, while you took care of Bakari in his nursery and attempted to find peace in your comfy chair in between.

Brushing passed your husband without so much as a glance, you walk towards the hallway.

“I did that already.”

“You fed him?”

“Yeah..”

“And changed his…”

“Yes Y/N…that’s what I’m sayin, damn.

Bakari’s cries got louder by the minute.

“E…I’m exhausted. Don’t come at me with this attitude tonight ok?! I’m not beat for your shit right now.”

You make your way into your sons’ nursery and gently lift him from his crib. He’s beyond fussy but won’t latch on…not hungry. His diaper is dry…wow, Erik actually did that too. Bouncing Bakari lightly as you pace the room, you start to hum a melody hoping this will work.

“He’s hot…” Erik appeared at the door. “He’s pissed cuz there’s no air circulating. I opened the window, thought the rain would calm him down but clearly. Come on, let’s go…”

You look down to see three bags at Erik’s feet, one being an expertly packed diaper bag.

“Go where E? It’s a whole storm outside. And it’s 3AM.”

“The rain let up and it’s not windy anymore. Don’t you trust me?” You scoffed…

“Just come on girl.”

The three of you piled into Erik’s huge truck. He held the door as you secured Bakari in, choosing to sit next to him in the backseat just in case he started screaming again. Movement always helped when he was this antsy, but you were way too tired to do your usual laps around the loft to get him to sleep this time.

Erik slammed the driver’s side door, which of course scared the baby, making him scream yet again. You shot him a cold look in the rearview mirror.

“My bad.”

Addressing your son in baby talk…

“It’s okay my love…don’t cry. Daddy’s trying to take your place this week. Did he steal some of your diaper’s tonight Bakari? Is that the real reason why he was in your room?? You can tell mama…”

Erik just shook his head. Your teasing, the AC blasting and the sound of the open road actually did the trick. Bakari went from sobbing to giggling to REM sleep in no time. You didn’t bother asking Erik where you were going because, let’s be honest, you knew he wasn’t going to tell you anyway, so you decided to knock out also.

2 hours later

Erik hopped out of the truck and took the bags in to the house. He then gently took his son out of his seat before waking you up.

“Y/N…babe we’re here.”

“Are we back home?”

“Well, home for a few days yeah.”

You reluctantly took Erik’s hand as he helped you out of the car. One quick but GOOD nap wasn’t going to make you suddenly forget that you were mad at him.

“Did you remember to bring…”

“Your pump? I got everything Y/N. And whatever I didn’t pack is available here.”

Erik led you into a BEAUTIFUL beach house. Still holding Bakari, he smirked at your reaction to this surprise. Kissing you on your temple, thoroughly amused at your shocked expression…

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go put him down.”

You couldn’t even answer. Mesmerized by the sound of the waves crashing, you walked towards the back of the open concept house in awe. The infinity pool overlooked a beautiful pre-dawn sky and the smell of fresh air hitting your nostrils was intoxicating. Truth be told, you wanted Erik to rip your clothes off and take you right here on this patio, but you needed to suppress that urge for the time being.

He walked up behind you, slowly placing his arms around your waist. It had been days since he touched you, his unexplained mood keeping you both in your individual corners of the boxing ring that had become your home. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to lean into him. He traced a line from your ear lobe to your shoulder with his lips. You were a goner.

“Baby…who’s house is this?”

“It’s ours.”

You turned to face him. Erik had a sly grin on his face, a sight you also hadn’t seen in a very long time. Playfully hitting his chest… “Erik stop playin’. Did you steal this house? Are the owners on vacation and coming back in the morning? What’s the deal? Should I go grab Bakari now or…?” Erik caught your hand as you pretended to walk away. He had to admit that he missed this side of you too.  

“It’s kind of an inheritance thing. T’s dumbass was gonna get rid of it. Talkin’ bout some…’N’Jadaka, I live in Wakanda, why on earth do I need a house by this polluted Californian ocean?’”

You were laughing hysterically at this point. You loved when Erik impersonated T’Challa’s accent…he was SO BAD at it. You were softening up again, dammit this man was good at getting you to let your guard down. You moved closer to him, hands on his shoulders as he bit his bottom lip….he knew that made you weak too. His hands were now roaming your hips and cheeks.

“Oh really…that’s what he said huh?”

“Yep, just like that. So, I told him, T, don’t you dare get rid of this house. It’s a family keepsake, you know. My badass wife and beautiful son deserve this house T. So here we are.”

“Here we are….”

His lips finally overtook yours. All concern for previous arguments melted away as Erik lifted your legs around his waist and carried you to a lounge chair. He then ripped your clothes off and had his way with you. Filling you almost immediately, the sound of the crashing waves was no match for the moans you released finally feeling his touch again.

A little later…

You walked back out towards the pool wrapped in a blanket to rejoin Erik who was still sprawled, bare chest and as sexy as ever on the chaise lounge. The sun had just started to rise, and you couldn’t be more grateful for this moment with your man.

Nestling back into his side, Erik’s hands found their way back to some of his favorite spots on your body.

“Is he ok?”

“Yeah, I fed him, and he went right back to sleep. I think he loves it here too.”

“Y/N, I owe you an apology.” You stayed silent, this was rare, and you didn’t want any sudden movements to make him change his mind. Erik wasn’t big on words or explanations. He covered you and Bakari like no one else could. You felt protected and loved beyond measure, but there was something about having a child that opened up a new well in Erik’s heart. You fell more and more in love with him in these last few months, which was why the difference in his recent behavior had caught you so off guard.

You sat up slightly to face him, encouraging him to continue.

“I started having dreams about my pops. At first, they were nice, we’d be chillin at the playground when I was a kid or on the courts playin’ ball. He’d be laughing with me, pushing me on a swing. I’d smile cuz I’d think about those times that I’d have with B…then the dreams got dark. My mother would appear, her eyes real dark, black…and she’d end up killing me or my father in one of the dreams. Every time she’d laugh about it and I couldn’t do anything but watch. I was stuck in the corner of the room, in that same blue hoodie I was wearing when I found my dad. She’d walk over and whisper shit like, ‘you’ll never have what we had’, ‘you can never be free’. And then I’d pop up.”

By the time he finished there were tears streaming down both of your faces. You kissed his away and held him close.

“Erik, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to; I just didn’t want to scare you. The first time it happened it was really late, and you were in the other room singing to Bakari. The two of you were so peaceful…so I just listened to your voice with him and that calmed me down. I had another one a few days ago. She was in our room, standing over B’s rocker, just staring at him with those dark eyes. Then she looked over at you sleeping with your hand on him. I was stuck to the damn bed, couldn’t move. That shit was so real Y/N”

“That’s why you didn’t want him in the room.”

“Yeah…I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to do. That seemed like the most immediate solve at the time.”

You readjusted to straddle Erik’s lap. Your love language was touch and luckily you knew Erik found peace the closer you were to him. You felt his heart beating as you retraced the scars on his chest. You steadied your hand there for a minute as he continued.

“T noticed something was off with me…”, finishing the sentence in unison…

“…because he’s T.” You both laughed. You were so grateful for his family and the second chance he had been given with them, in these very moments especially.

“Anyway, his nosy ass told my auntie about the dreams, but she really helped. She reminded me that my parents really did love me, even my mother. And that the dreams were just traces of my old life of violence refusing to die. I guess because…”

“Because you don’t think you deserve this joy…a chance at real peace?”

“Yeah…” He tried to break his gaze from your loving eyes, but you wouldn’t allow it. You held his face and kissed him softly. You moved slowly, hoping that the connection of your lips to his would somehow reassure him of who he was…recharging him in some way.

“Erik Stevens. N’Jadaka. You are my king. I loved you before I knew about your past, I loved you after I found out all of the secrets you tried to hide and since you’ve made me a mother to our gift, I’ve managed to love you even more. I feel safe, adored and beautiful when I’m with you, baby. And you know what, that little boy back there already loves and adores you too. You can calm him down in minutes…you already make him laugh. I know this hasn’t been easy, but you’ve earned this happiness. Life isn’t perfect, babe. But all of that darkness is behind us now. Let me be here for you too. We have a very bright future ahead, but I need you present and here with us to enjoy it…all of you.”

“I gotchu princess. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Erik suddenly had a mischievous look in his eyes. You jumped up because you knew him all too well, but not fast enough. He started tickling you and laughing like a lunatic.

“Erik, stop! Your behind goes from 0 to a thousand in seconds!”

He pauses for a minute, getting close to your ear.

“Let’s make another baby.”

You laugh even louder now at this ridiculous notion and try to escape his arms.

“Uh huh! This birth control stays IN Mr. Stevens! Too soon…WAY too soon. I don’t love you that much.”

He chased you inside and into the bedroom. Hovering over you on this perfect king-sized bed, ready to pounce. There was no way you’d be willing to have another baby this soon, but there was absolutely no harm in practicing the latest techniques with this gorgeous man you cherished while Bakari finally slept peacefully in the other room.

[the-last-cuddlebender]

I wish you would write a fic where Aang is just flustered and is amassed at katara while she’s just doing nothing ❤️maybe after the balcony kiss (btw your my favorite fic writer 💕)

*smacks table* *kicks a chair over* *screams into the void*

(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) NO YOU’RE MY FAVORITE, ANON😤❤💕💖

Ngl tho, this prompt and one other have been haunting me for so long oml I just for the longest time drew complete blanks like...just nothing came to me. Nada. I even tried getting a legit 12 straight hours of sleep to turn my brain off and back on again but nOpE. I really wanted to keep it related to after the balcony kiss since I wanted the challenge, but gosh did it fight me. My brain go poof I hope you’re happy for making me question everything, Anon lol

Anywho, I love and cherish you, Anon, you bean, you godsend, you magnificent angel, you🥰~ I hope you enjoy the fic!!!

Words: 1,785

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Aang kneaded his right thumb into his left palm. The scars there were small and white and hardly noticeable unless he held his hand right to his face.

It was peculiar, to say the least. Only the hand that received Ozai’s lightning bore a shadow of his opponent’s cold fire. The belly of his palm was a memory of death barely avoided, but he tried (...tried…tried very, very hard...) to imagine the milky pattern on pale skin as looking like a leaf’s veins when held up to the sunlight.

Aang rolled his lip between his teeth. He was going to tear something if he crouched for much longer. The scars burned without burning, and he wasn’t sure which fate was worse. Was it even considered a scar if it was never open? It was just there after the battle like it was a maker’s mark on a finished piece.

Katara would know—there was little that she didn’t know—, but she had been far too exhausted for him to even consider asking—

Katara...

Aang’s face burned like the fire she lit in his cheeks was eternal.

If he was perfectly honest, he didn’t remember feeling the kiss.

He only remembered how the kiss felt.

Because remembering the moment when Katara redefined what happiness felt like was a moment Aang would never forget.

His shoulders rose to his ears; his face smoldered as giddy magma crawled up his neck. He teetered to one side when thoughts of her shifted gravity. Maybe it was a good thing that he was crouching, after all.

Katara…

...But then he looked at his estranged left palm and the new maker’s mark that it bore.

...And his heart crisped and flaked into ashes piling in the pit of his chest.

The scarring changed nothing but uprooted everything. It was a cancer, black and numb on his hand, like it was suffering from frostbite and needed to be removed.

The estranged left palm that saved his life was the same hand Katara held—all those months ago—when they kissed that day in the dark, trapped and alone, in an inky-black Earth Kingdom cave.

The kiss was a gentle waltz turning into a speedy tango, but her hand on his was the tug to lift him out of his chair. It was the strike of flint and steel that burned away the cobwebs in his heart and brushed aside all dust to welcome something new.

...Katara...

Sokka had interrupted before Aang could ask her to be his girlfriend. Time was an illusion, but time was precious. Memories framed in moments were the beginnings of beautiful new somethings.

What they were, though...

He really hoped Katara knew better than him. Of course, she would—there was little that she didn’t know.

Did the kiss make it—them—official? They said more in words unspoken than words said aloud ever could, but they hadn’t had a moment of peace since then. Surely, he had to ask her. He really, really wanted to, too. It didn’t feel right to celebrate an anniversary without a proper date—Spirits, he and Katara were gonna have an anniversary, oh Spirits—

Aang’s palm stared back at him. Embarrassment hit him like a skybison at full-speed.

Katara had nearly killed him during the meeting that morning.

Holding his hand—that hand—under the table was toying with whatever gave his heart reason to beat.

Aang had hugged her times a-plenty, but he had never held her hand in that way for that long. It eclipsed their kiss and left him powerless like a suddenly doused fire.

...It had felt like he was poisoning her—like he was touching her with an open wound. 

Aang slumped a little more in the corner of the balcony and stared at his callouses like they could tell him what to do.

The sunset was a smirk mocking his plight, but the moonrise was a gentle grin trying (...trying…trying very, very hard...) to heal his hurts.

Katara hated holding his hand. He felt that she did. She muted the room for him when she touched him; it brought her every reaction into stark relief. He had briefly wondered if that was what Toph felt like when she sensed when someone was lying.

Katara had stiffened. She even shifted like she couldn’t get comfortable. The breath that left her was fast at first like she was just told bad news. Her exhales after that were deep and almost seething.

...The worst part was when she wouldn’t look at him. She only glared about and around them.

Aang slumped from his crouch until his rear hit the ground. His right thumb stayed married to his left palm, and the white lightning stung tender like something freshly burned. He only partially wished that he had the top of his robes on when the thought of her regretting him cut the strings that held him together; he was a puppet collapsing against the balcony wall and sliding down gritty concrete. His scar—another reminder of her—stung him like smacks to the face and melted him into something made of noodles.

The moon was a bit higher, now, but its grin wasn’t any more reassuring than before. The bugs and small critters must have become annoyed with his melting because there was silence like Hei Bai’s forest when Aang made himself smaller than his shadow and dragged his kneading hand even closer to his face.

Their kiss—she had kissed him—barbed him with a sting like thorns on a rose bush except laced with poison and fiberglass. It was decaying from the start of something new into the empty longing for a once in a lifetime occurrence. 

Something shot him in the leg and crippled what made him Aang.

His right thumb kneading his left palm slipped and dug a fingernail into a callous.

He was goo freezing over—a body consumed by jennamite.

Aang breathed out, about to take the inhale to fuel the first hiccup dancing on his shaking lip—

—but then Katara stepped onto the balcony and leaned up against the bars.

Being an airbender had its perks, and his lungs not popping from the force and fullness of his panicked inhale was definitely one of them. He was a statue—a deformed gargoyle that looked more horrific to behold than to cross—, and the glimpse of Katara’s soft grin became a braided noose refusing to let him exhale.

None of the lights were lit.

Spirits, did he love his moonrise and the weakness that she gave him.

Katara was staring into something that didn’t exist on this plane and smiling at something he couldn’t see. She was a stilled lake normally raging and powerful and beautiful to behold. He wouldn’t dare disturb her. She was as calm as a reflection.

Sudden exposure reminded him of stepping into a forbidden part of the Southern Air Temple, and his presence became a violation of something precious. Katara was remembering moments of beautiful new somethings if the way she absentmindedly bent a stream of water about one wrist—her bending her joy unhindered—was anything to go by.

Aang blushed a shade of red that Aunt Wu could have mistaken as the intended location for eruption from the Symbol of Volcanic Doom. He closed his eyes, covered his ears, and dared to shimmy into the shadow of the corner. Katara was a warrior unmatched and without equal. That’s why she was Master Katara. He could no sooner escape her than escape the earthshaking hammer-blows that the hint of her smile drove into his chest. 

He sat on a tightrope whose cables were snapping and unwinding.

It was only when he felt weaker in a way that made him stronger that he peaked an eye open.

Katara was crouched and more concerned than bemused. “Aang?” She touched the knee that had curled to his chest and was threatening to buckle into his sternum. “Are you okay?”

…’Okay’ was a subjective and circumstantial term.

His voice was the sound of rubber sliding water off of wet glass. “M-hm.”

“What are you doing out here alone and...in the corner?”

“Well, I was just...Well, y’know…” His right thumb stuck to his left palm like they were nailed together. He tried (...tried...tried very, very hard...) to hide his wound from her. “Moon ‘s nice ‘n…’n stuff.”

Katara mulled over his words, said and unsaid. Her stare was an examination checking his vitals—his heart, his soul, and his happiness. She hummed a thoughtful sound that bookmarked her place in the pages of him.

It all happened in under the time it took her to breathe. Aang nearly stopped breathing altogether when she tapped her finger on his knee.

“You’re hiding on the balcony because ‘Moon ‘n stuff’?”

“...Yes?”

She spared his ‘hidden’ fiddling hands a half-lidded glance. “Aang...”

“What?”

Katara flicked his arrow. Then, she waited.

Aang didn’t crack. He melted. 

“I was just—I thought…” He deflated. “I needed somewhere to think.”

Something about his words or the way that he said them made every bit of her soft. Her concern riddled him with holes, and, when she settled on the ground before him and propped her head on her arms on his knees, there was barely any of him left to keep him together.

“You wanna talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t. I just haven’t seen that look on your face since...Well, I can’t remember since when.”

One part of Aang threatened to grab the other part of him and throw him into a volcano.

He was making her worry. He should never make her worry, especially over something so silly—

He opened his mouth but hesitated. He didn't want to say no.

“Not—Not now.”

His honesty tamed her like she could feel it as easily as a temperature change. “It’s not something hurting you, right?”

Yes.

“No.”

Katara frowned with her eyes.

Then, she stood.

(Spirits, Aang loved his moonrise.)

“Take my hand.”

Aang’s heart took a trip to the tiny star just to the right of the moon.

She looked at him, and he felt hot cinders flake from his face and into his twisting belly. It sparked a fire so hot that it turned his sea of chi into an ocean of molten ore.

He was suddenly empty of something and filled to the brim with something else.

Katara’s hand was an invitation without equal, and the instinct to grab hold and never let go was a god’s hand trying to push him forward. 

He almost did.

But then his right thumb paused on his left palm, and white lightning struck him down.

Katara flinched like she felt it.

Aang curled into a knot like he could still hide it. 

Kneeling, Katara unraveled him without touching him. Her eyes found his and held him in place not like in a trap but like in a hug. Too soon his right thumb was hushed away from his left palm and his estranged hand was held close to her face. 

Aang couldn’t remember hearing her words, but he felt what she was saying.

Her sorrow nearly tore him apart.

Luckily, her smile kept his shredded heart together. 

And the kiss to his white lightning and the three points of his hand’s arrow put air back into his lungs. He dove into the cool-blue look she gave him and drowned himself in all that she was. 

He was filled with clouds so puffy that they threatened to let loose their rain, but his eyes became only wet and never misty. He smiled beyond the limits of what anatomy allowed when her face turn as red as his felt.

She said something that put his pieces back together, and she looked at him with something that gave him the strength. Cherry-red metal poured from a kiln and wept up her neck and into her cheeks.

Katara rolled her eyes to something that wasn’t there, disappeared inside, and returned with a mass of blankets.

“What are all the blankets for?”

“Moon ‘n stuff,” Katara said as she finished her nest of comforters and fortified quilt walls. 

Then she offered her hand again—she slipped it loosely into his own and waited for him to hold her first. 

“Sit with me.”

Aang shouldn’t have been as giddy as he was, and Katara pursed her smile like she was struggling not to enjoy his happiness too much when she tugged him up from the ground and laid with him against cushioned concrete. 

Moon ‘n Stuff was laughing and pointing out funny bits in constellations of their own designs. It was gossiping all the good rumors and their hopes about which of them might be true.

Katara crowned him King of their Chateau of Comforters with the softest blanket she had. It was blue and smelled like mornings when he could sleep in and like the small joys of finding warm things in cold places.

Katara accepted his invitation into his Blanket Castle within their Comforter Chateau. The blanket was plenty big for both of them and tied them together in a fuzzy cocoon.

She relaxed against him like she was sinking into warm water. The air that left her was fast at first like she just saw something she dearly missed. Every exhale after that was slow and satisfied—drunk on the indescribable and bewitched by the unimaginable. Aang felt her every movement so clearly that he wasn’t sure whether to give thanks or repent for the precious moment she was creating with him.

But then she shifted like she couldn’t get comfortable enough.

And she dragged an eye open to glare at any critter’s sound breaking their peace.

That was when Aang understood.

That was also when Aang lost it.

The urge to laugh was so overwhelming that it didn’t process into the bodily function, instead filling him from toe to brim with small giggles and soft feelings.

Katara didn’t want to share.

Of course, she didn’t.

Their moments were their moments, and he was hers and hers alone.

Master Katara was a being without equal, but Aang knew that which even she didn’t know.

Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me right now.

Aang’s confidence limped back to him and convinced his estranged left hand to sidle towards hers. He touched the back of it with two fingers—an almost mute invitation, an almost silent knock on the door.

Katara laced her fingers with his like it was the most natural thing in the world. She handled it not like it was something wounded but like it was something precious, and she kissed all of his knuckles before cooling his white lightning with the gentle touches of her snowy-soft palm.

The hands were the most sacred part of a bender. They were the outlets from which their soul leaked. They were the culmination of all of their senses to interact with the world.

Aang’s world shyly smiled and fiddled with her hair. She shifted like she couldn’t decide on which spot against him or which way to hold him would bring them as close as she wanted. 

She wouldn’t even look at him for fear of changing color and state of matter from beautiful young woman to gorgeous little puddle.

She blushed like something beautiful coming into bloom.

Then, she said something.

Her words bypassed all feeling and branded themselves onto his heart

“...want to be my boyfriend? O-Only if you want to...because I want to, so...um...”

She inhaled on the word like she was telling good news and hoping for the universe to talk back to her.

Aang’s current incarnation threatened to be kicked out from under him and reborn into the Water Tribes.

His head nodded like it was trying to make a break for it.

Katara laughed like it was the only language she knew.

They shared each others’ smiles in a shy kiss that felt like a brushing of souls—like the gentle zap of lightning between earth and sky that brought beauty and shook all that they knew but brought with it no scars or destruction.

She squeezed his hand.

He kissed her again just because he could.

White lightning and snowy-soft touches connected what made them each other.

Aang wilted like soggy grass, full of that which gave him life and drunk on all that she gave him.

His hand didn’t hurt anymore. His heart was starting to ache, though. It was going to burst if he looked at her for much longer.

His night got darker when Katara closed her eyes, but he welcomed the weakness his rising full moon gave him.

She fell asleep against his side, and even when Aang no longer felt his arm, he didn’t dare move.

The balcony was empty except for them, and his heart was full of only her.

Katara mumbled once, shifted twice, and adjusted her grip to hug the whole of his arm.

She was hardly doing anything, but her doing nothing did everything to him.

Aang’s courage found him just as Katara found her new favorite spot.

He kissed her cheek, but, if he was being honest, he didn’t remember feeling the kiss.

“...I love you.”

He only remembered how her smile felt.

***************************************

.

.

I hope you enjoyed, Anon! I know this isn’t Katara doing “nothing”, per se, but this is what my mush-brain put down when I sat and wrote😅  (I did, however, tuck that little ”doing nothing” idea away for different ficlet👀)

[pilot-boi]

Snowed In

The first snow of the school year was shaping up to be quite the storm. Not the blow your house down kind of storm, but definitely the bury your house in mountains of frozen water kind of storm.

Ren just wants to get some studying done if he can, and then stay in before the snow buries the whole campus. But he might not be getting buried alone, which might be less irritating than he thinks.

(Secret Santa for @katmotif )

Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful. And since we’ve no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

AO3 LINK

The sky was growing dark outside, and stars would be twinkling into view if it weren’t for the thick blanket of clouds cushioning the sky. The air was crisp and cold, warning of frost and even colder weather to come.

After days of threatening, and warnings from the campus weather service that nobody heeded, the clouds that had been looming all week were finally fulfilling every student’s wish. Flakes of snow drifted silently from the heavens, dusting the roofs of buildings and cars alike.

While it was getting dark, it was not quite late enough for the streets to be abandoned. So occasionally a car would trundle past, making spotlights in the snow with its headlights. Or a particularly unlucky student would be seen trudging back to their dorm room through the gathering drifts.

One such student was Lie Ren, who was shuffling back to his dorm after a day of studying at the local coffee joint. As soon as the flakes started actually accumulating, he’d waved goodbye to his roommate Jaune, who was one of the unlucky employees, and had headed out the door.

Ren didn’t have a car, and he usually elected to walk around campus instead of employing some sort of transportation. So if he wanted to make it back to his room before the streets became completely un-navigable, he unfortunately had to leave much sooner than normal.

Jaune was not going to have fun biking back through all of this, poor guy.

So there Ren was, messenger bag slung over one shoulder, scarf wrapped tightly around his face, and water soaking through his shoes and into his socks. His breath fogged up the air in front of his face, and, more annoyingly, also fogged up his glasses.

Who needed eyesight anyway? He was seriously debating just taking them off, if only so he could freaking see.

Reaching his building, he swiped his card at the door, waved at the desk attendant, and hiked up all the flights of stairs to his room. He should have the room to himself for the rest of the evening, since Jaune was likely to be occupied at his job for the remainder of the night.

Ren wanted nothing more than to just sit at his desk with a cup of tea and let his mind relax into the comforting haze of schoolwork he already knew the answers to.

All his hopes were dashed when he got nearly tackled to the ground by what looked at first glance like a high-speed ball of cotton candy.

“Reeeeennnn!!” yelled the cotton candy ball, who revealed herself to be Nora Valkyrie. “You’re back already?” she demanded, already dragging him back into his dorm room.

“Nora? How are you here?” he asked, allowing himself to be dragged out of the hallway, through the common area, and into his room. “Did you bully Jaune into giving you his key? Again?” he continued, sighing slightly as he shrugged his scarf off his shoulders.

Nora pouted and plopped herself on his bed, kicking her legs petulantly. “Ren, do you have so little faith in me? I would never! Such baseless accusations, how could you?”

“Nora.” He wasn’t even looking at her as he took off his coat, but he could feel her rolling her eyes at him.

“Okay fine, yeah I did,” she replied, grinning cheekily. “But I promise it’s the last time!”

“Really?” he commented, grabbing his electric kettle and leaving Nora alone in the room to fill it with the water he needed. He didn’t believe her in the slightest. “I don’t believe you in the slightest.”

“Weeeeellll...” he heard Nora trail off noncommittally, in a way that didn’t get Ren’s hopes up at all. “I promise it’s the last time I steal Jaune’s room key!” Ren leveled an unconvinced look at her as he came back into the room. “No really, it is! I’m gonna get Ruby to 3D print me a copy in her next lab!”

She seemed extremely proud of her solution to the problem of how she was going to continue to break into his room. “Nora, I don’t think that’s allowed,” he reminded her, settling the kettle back onto its stand and setting it to boil.

Nora waved him off. “Pffft! Sure it’s not allowed! But it was either this, or breaking out the lock-picking kit Sun got me for my birthday.” Ren reminded himself to remind Jaune to complain to Neptune to yell at his boyfriend for giving Nora the disastrous present. “Besides, you never answered my first question!”

“Which question was that, exactly?” he asked, pulling out a couple of mugs, green tea for him, and specifically the box of non-caffeinated hot chocolate for Nora. Ren’s chances of getting any actual work done were lowered drastically by Nora being here, but they would be non-existent if she managed to get her hands on caffeine.

“Why you’re back so early!” she reminded him, stealing the container of marshmallows before he could stop her. Popping a few in her mouth, she commented, “I thought I’d be waiting around for-EV-er for you!”

“Have you been here that long already?” Ren asked, raising a fond eyebrow at her. He casually pulled the box of marshmallows back out of her hands and ignored her when she pouted. “If you eat all of these, there won’t be any left for your cocoa.”

“So what? They’re still ending up in my belly where they rightfully belong.”

“Now you’re ignoring my question.”

“Hmm? Oh right!” She bounced on his bed, kicking her shoes off to join Ren’s pair placed neatly at the foot of his bed. “But yeah my construction class got cancelled so I got done early. But you usually don’t get back until like freaking midnight!”

It was true. As much as the coffee shop was rarely quiet and he tended to get less work done than he would like, even there he still managed to get sucked into his work and not notice how much time was passing.

More times than not one of the employees would have to usher him out with a sheepish and apologetic smile because he was keeping them from closing up.

“So what’s the deal with that?” she asked, flopping onto her back to stare at him upside down. “Why’re you back already?”

“It’s snowing,” Ren replied simply, nodding at the darkening sky outside his window and the flakes that drifted past. “I wanted to get back before the roads disappeared,” he explained, lifting the whistling kettle off its stand and pouring twin streams of hot water into their mugs.

“What?!” Nora exclaimed, tumbling off his bed and somehow miraculously landing on her feet in a show of nimbleness that definitely would’ve eluded his roommate. “It’s snowing and you didn’t tell me?!”

Ren rolled his eyes at her mock display of offense, hand pressed to her chest and everything. “How was I supposed to know it was going to snow today specifically?” He set his tea to steep in one mug and poured a spoonful of cocoa mix into the other. “You’re the one who’s been waiting all week for this.”

He passed Nora her mug, who had to stop her bouncing to save herself from the burns the sugary drink would definitely give her despite her love of it.

Finally settling down at his desk with his bag and his books and a mountain of papers to finish, Ren got to work on his work. Not his work for work, of course, but damn if his psych professor didn’t make that class feel like a full time job anyway.

Nora started telling him about her day, and his mouth tilted up into a smile in spite of himself. After about a minute her mug was already empty, refilled twice more, and then abandoned. She set it next to his, and without thinking he removed it from the paper she’d set it on, and rotated it so that it faced the same way as his own mug.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ren could see her pacing back and forth and making huge gestures with her arms as she explained some disaster that a fellow stage hand got into. Ren knew that Nora knew that he was only half-listening, but he loved hearing about her day more than he was ready to acknowledge.

He’d comment every so often, and her eyes would light up every time he responded. Even the glimpses he got of her bright-eyed freckle-faced smile were enough to warm him more than the tea ever could.

After about a half an hour of no interruptions, filled with blissful quiet, productive work, and no cocoa refills, he started to get suspicious. Nora not babbling extensively was… oddly off-putting.

It was like when a canary suddenly went silent in a coal mine. You knew something had gone terribly wrong with the universe.

But honestly what was most strange was that he missed her rambling. Ren would’ve thought that she would distract him, but somehow the silence of his room was more deafening than she ever could have been.

He didn’t know how, but he’d gotten used to her stream of consciousness. And now with it gone, when normally he wouldn’t have even noticed that it was happening, its absence was louder than her actual speaking.

Unable to focus on working now, for reasons that eluded him, he sighed and tilted back into his chair. It was really coming down out there, he would barely see the sidewalk outside. And judging by the sky that he couldn’t see, night had well and truly fallen.

And then his eyes landed on Nora.

She was laying sprawled on his bed, one arm looped around his pillow and one hanging over the edge. Still fully clothed, red hair falling like a halo around her head, and completely and utterly asleep.

Well that explained the quiet.

Ren just stared at her for a moment, struck dumb for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate. Something about how he was just now realizing that he’d never seen her quite this peaceful before.

Still fully mobile off course, not even sleep could down Nora Valkyrie completely. Even as he watched she rolled over, pushed the pillow she was holding off the bed, and grumbled something about pancakes under her breath at now finding the pillow missing. Or maybe it was at the missing pancakes, who could say.

But she seemed calm. And exhausted, now that she was keeping still enough for him to really look at her. Dark circles painted the pale skin beneath her eyes, and her naturally frizzy hair stuck up more than even it normally did.

Ren stood up, took one step towards her, and hesitated.

Should he wake her up?

No. He couldn’t wake her up, especially not now that he saw how much she needed the sleep. And, he glanced out the window again, especially not now that the snow was making it dangerous nigh impossible for her to walk back to her own dorm. Even if she wasn’t exhausted Ren didn’t know if he’d be comfortable with her walking back alone in this weather.

And she looked so comfortable, so who was he to move her, really?

Sighing, Ren resolved to let her stay sleeping in his bed and also resolved to bunk on the floor. Or maybe he’d borrow Jaune’s room, as it looked like his roommate had given up on returning home.

After one final sip of tea, he pulled the drawstring to close the blinds and clicked off his lamp. Now the room was lit only by the cool light of the moon. Nora’s hair shone like fire.

He pulled his sweater off, determined that at least one of them would be going to sleep tonight in the correct attire, and folded it neatly. He climbed up onto the bed, intending to pull the blanket more firmly around Nora’s shoulders before leaving, but instead he yelped when she grabbed him and pulled him down.

Lacking the pillow she’d been holding, it looked like she’d made do with him.

Ren froze in her grasp, only remembering to breathe when he saw that she was in fact still asleep. Freckles like a million constellations layered on top of each other speckled their way across her nose and cheeks. Her eyelashes were long and a paler orange than her hair.

Without thinking, Ren wriggled one arm out of her tight grasp and brushed a stray lock of hair off her face.

He froze again, flushed as deep a pink as his eyes, his arm hovering in the air above them. Why the hell did he do that? What if she woke up, what would he do then? What if-

Nora mumbled something else under her breath, and Ren calmed down. He willed the flush out of his face and in froze. Good. Still asleep.

And he was still trapped, but there wasn’t much he could do about that now. Actually...

One arm was pinned to his side, but the other was now free, and having already decided to not wake her up, he instead pulled the blanket up the rest off the way to cover them both.

Shifting as much as he could, he got comfortable and resigned himself to a long night of probably no sleep.

Nora’s grip relaxed, and she nuzzled into his chest. Maybe she somehow knew that he wasn’t going anywhere. This warmed Ren more than the blanket was, and a soft smile spread on his face for a person who was too asleep to notice.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

The snow fell outside, blanketing the world in white flakes. Ren would normally have watched them drift past his window, but he was already fast asleep.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey clanny! Can I req an Ishimaru x reader where the reader's comforting a sad ishi??? Didn't really think the concept through,so feel free to have some fun with it! Thx:D

Been a long while since I’ve written some good angst! Enjoy!

THH Spoilers

..............................................................................

It was late at night, but you didn't really care. All that you could hope was that Ishimaru would answer the door before you got caught after curfew.

You can only hear silence on the other side...which was understandable considering what transpired a few days ago.

The first execution, with Leon, left you in utter shock and grief--though after another killing and another execution, you've come to accept this would be your new reality: someone will murder somebody, get caught, and ultimately be executed until...

You shook your head to clear the thought. This sick “game” isn't what you should be focused on right now. 

It should be Ishimaru.

You knocked on the door. "Hey, Ishimaru? It's me. Can I come in? I....I just wanna see you."

There was still total silence, but before you could try again, the door opened slightly and you saw the Ultimate Moral Compass student; his sunken, puffy red eyes stared at you. "...y-you know you..should be asleep," he murmured, voice shaky. It was the first thing he has said in days.

"So should you, but...I don't think either of us can do that after what happened." You pointed out.

Ishimaru didn't say a word, but knew you were right and knew he wasn’t gonna be left alone, so he allowed you to come in. He quickly shut the door before anyone else could notice what was going on.

When you sat on the bed, he joined you. And that's when you could see how truly broken he was. He definitely wasn't eating nor sleeping, but he was certainly crying a lot.

You couldn’t blame him. Losing Mondo, who was like a brother to him, completely crushed his spirit. Everyone else seemed to move on but him.

You sighed quietly, unsure of how to start the difficult conversation. But you needed to say something. Anything to get him to talk more. "I...I wish things didn't turn out the way they did in that trial-"

"It should've been me."

"....what? But there's...there was no proof you did it." You reminded him gently. "I know you didn't want him dying but...he confessed. He owned up to his mistake. You...would've wanted the truth to come out."

"But...but not like that!!" Tears began to stream down Ishimaru's face. "I should've been the one to die!! Not him!! HE DIDN’T DESERVE TO BE TAKEN FROM ME!!" He started to scream, though when felt a hand on his back, he paused and look at you. "S-Sorry...I..I know you're right next to me.."

"It’s fine, I understand. But...why did you vote yourself?”

“.....I...I couldn’t convince myself it was him..”

“Ishi-”

"I just..w-wanted him to walk free and live his life!" He sobbed. "I know it’s wrong but...we could've already been out of this nightmare! I was willing to pay that price!! If our deaths gave him a chance at redemption then-”

But he paused as he noticed your hurt expression, the realization of his words sinking in. “I-I’m sorry..” He closed his eyes, lips quivering. “That’s..so selfish of me to say. I made such a stupid, selfish decision that could’ve gotten all of us executed...” He covered his face with his hands. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! I deserve to be alone for the stupid, selfish idiot that I am!"

"Hey, don't mimic Leon now. You're not stupid for caring about someone so much." You decided to bring him into a hug. "And no one deserves to be alone, especially not you."

Having become close friends with him, you knew he wouldn't mind it. After all, it's what he needed most. Sure--some of the others checked on him, though he’d never let any of them get as close as you did.

Except, obviously....the one who was now gone forever.

Ishimaru did not hesitate to return the hug, now fully in tears like he was during and after the trial. "It's just not fair!! What did any of us do to deserve this torture?!" He wailed.

"Nothing in this game is fair anymore." You held him close, letting him sob into your shoulder. “This school is a literal hell..for all of us.”

"I-I...I'd give anything to see him again. Anything."

"I know.."

But as you comforted your dear friend, little did you realize that sooner or later....

He would get his wish.