#anyway. complaining over. am going to sit in silent frustration for the next hour or so

[milkweedman]

Augh. Spent literally 2 hours going to yarn stores trying to find US 9 straight metal knitting needles, only to find that all stores carry only bamboo 9s, which is useless for me as my gauge with bamboo or wood needles is very different than metal, and I'm trying to move a project off of some broken and terrible circs. So not only did I turn a "7 or 8 on the pain scale" day into a solid 9.5 for no reason while also wasting 2 hours of a very rare day off, I also have to reknit what I've got so far on US 10's, which is a far less favorable gauge and also very annoying, as I already did this once (having initially started with US 8's).

Edit: guess who actually only has 1 US 10 and 3 US 10.5s, which is way too big to use. :/

[i-cant-sing]

An Accident

Yeah... you may have seen this before, earlier this week when I accidentally posted it. Anyways, this is a part 2 of the Todoroki clan being obsessed with reader's hair. So, um enjoy.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Todoroki Clan:

Rei is obsessed with reader’s hair.

She’s taken such good care of it, and after years of hard work, your hair now reaches just around your butt. Your hair is healthy, thick, luscious, and cut into a smooth, U shape; of course all trims are done by Rei herself because she doesn't even trust professionals. And even though you’ve asked Rei on multiple occasions to cut it short, at least up to the middle of your back, she just wouldn’t, always saying that you’re being unreasonable. But you’re not; you’ve given her multiple valid reasons.

For example, Rei and Fuyumi do your hair themselves. And initially, they would let you choose whatever hairstyle you wanted, but now they pick one for you, saying they know which one will suit your outfit of the day better. Rei likes to do double buns, or ponytails tied with ribbons or just one high pony with a pretty big bow on the top of your head. Fuyumi on the other hand makes super intricate hairstyles, and while they look pretty, only you know how much pain your scalp is in. Fuyumi does your hair as if you’re her doll, yanking and twisting hard, saying that she needs to be this rough to achieve the distinctive braid patterns. Thankfully, Rei usually does your hair most of the time.

One of the main reasons you've begged Rei to let you cut your hair short is how much time she (and you) would safe. Since your hair is so long, it takes a lot of time for Rei to put in hair masks, serums, oils, etc. It takes even longer to wash and dry them out, and then style them as well. But she smiled oh so kindly, and told you that she doesn't mind. She looks forward to taking care of your hair, forcing you to sit between her legs for hours as she applies some expensive magic growth oil, ignoring how you didn't like this.

And even if your hair is curly naturally, like even 4C curly hair, Rei will have it straight as a stick in no time (don't bother telling her that you like it natural). But don't worry, its still quite voluminous.

Of course, Rei washes your hair herself, telling you that you’re simply not capable enough to manage it. (At least she lets you wash your body yourself.) And due to your hair being so long, it takes time to not only wash it, but also dry it. Rei will detangle using a wide tooth comb, starting from the bottom and working her way up. Then she’ll dry it with her cold breath, and if required, call Enji to dry your hair with his heat. You like it when Enji dries your hair, because he does it quickly and your hair becomes far smoother.

And its not just Rei and Fuyumi that are obsessed with your hair, the boys are just as fond of it as well. Enji likes to card his fingers through your hair while he’s working on some papers or listening to news, his warm hands always putting you to sleep in his lap. Its an adorable sight, gives him a sense of peace.

Shotou also likes to run his hands through your long hair, especially after a stressful day. The feeling of his fingers through your smooth, long locks, it calms him. And if he’s feeling extra stressed, then he might braid your hair loosely as well. He always wears a scrunchie on his wrist for you.

You wouldn't ever admit it, but you enjoy it when Natsuo played with your hair. Its like he can sense when you're having a headache. He'll have you sit on the floor while he takes a seat on your bed, and then his fingers will do their magic. He knows exactly where to put pressure on your scalp, and exactly how much force to use. His massages always relieve your migraines, and he always massages with expertise to ensure their is proper blood flow in your scalp.

While you are more than happy to let Natsuo touch your hair, you hate it when Dabi's around. If you didn't know better, you'd think he wants to rip your scalp off. He knows how much it annoys you, always pulling at your ponytails, tugging at your braids, even yanking it a few times when you ignore him. And you've complained to your family, but all of them say that "oh he's just playing around." Or "no, he just misses you. He's only teasing." And when you ask Dabi to stop it, he'll just smile and say "big brother privileges."

He's insufferable.

Everyone gets to play with your hair, but God forbid if you do. Oh no, apparently you'd "destroy it", as if you're not capable of managing your own hair. You're not allowed to open your ponytails because, quoting Rei, "you're yanking your hair. You're going to rip your follicles- baby, stop. Just let me do it." But you know that she does that because she wants to brush your hair with the soft, bristle brush before you go to bed. And somedays, Rei doesn't tie your hair in a bun or something, letting your hair fall, and it gets in your way, and even then you're still not allowed to put it up because "oh honey, your hair needs to breathe too. If you keep it in a pony, the band will leave a mark in it." Honestly, everyone finds it adorable when you're dressed in your little, fluffy skirt paired with a cozy oversized sweater, all mad and pouting, trying to blow the hair strands blocking your field of vision. Like a little baby.

While Rei looks at your hair and sees years of her hards work and patience, all you see is losing control over your own life. And you are. They decide everything for you, from the clothes you wear, the food you eat, and even things you should like and dislike. They choose when you should go out, what you should watch, when its time for bed. They disregard your opinions and feelings, and if you show that you're frustrated, then its means that you're just throwing a "tantrum", and you need to be put to bed like some cranky child. You've told them that they're too overbearing, but they always say that they just love you.

What kind of love is controlling?

They're so lost in their delusions, that they don't even see the deteriorating effects it has on you mentally.

Actually, one person did see them. Dabi.

He saw how much everything was overwhelming you, how you were near tears when they talked over you, made choices for you.

He felt a bit bad for you, just a tad. Mostly, he felt there was another opportunity to mess with you.

When Dabi came to bother you one night, tugging at your hair again, this time a bit harder than usual, he saw you were ready to cry. You didn't even bother saying anything to him anymore, just kept quiet and did your best not to cry. Of course, now he ridiculed you. Called you a little crybaby and used that annoying patronising tone with you. And just as he was about to leave, he said "if your hair bothers you so much, why don't you just cut it, you big baby?"

As if something had finally snapped in you, you let his words echo. Why don't I cut it? What's stopping me?

Was it because you had learned to just give in?

You didn't even realise you had walked to your bathroom until you were holding a pair of scissors. Which surprised you, because you weren't allowed to use scissors unsupervised. It was almost as if a sign from the universe motivating you to do it, and definitely not Dabi who left them on the sink.

Holding the pair of scissors in one hand and a chunk of your hair in the other, you hesitate for a second and wonder what will Rei do. But before you could stop yourself, you cut.

I'll cross that bridge when it comes.

You start low, maybe 2 inches above your hips. It looks okay, but maybe you could cut a little more. And a little more. And a little more. Before you know it, your hair is around shoulder length, in an uneven, chunky bob. Its not perfect, but somehow you feel much better. Like you’ve finally gotten some control back. Wiping your tears away, you ruffle your hair a bit, the cool air on your neck adding to the feeling of freedom. You feel normal, happier, peaceful. Things you haven't felt in years. And all because you had 3 am meltdown.

After you cleaned up the bathroom, you went back to bed, anxious how everyone will react in the morning. Maybe they won't care. You thought. Its only hair. My hair.

Everyone was waiting for you at breakfast the next morning, and to everyone’s surprise, Dabi had joined them as well. Rei was cooking up some eggs, while the kids chatted. Enji was suspicious of the mischievous glint in Dabi’s eyes, and it was filling him with unease. Just as he was about to question him, you walked in.

Everyone went silent.

Then Fuyumi let out an audible gasp, while Dabi chuckled darkly. Natsuo, Shotou and Enji looked at you with their mouths agape.

“Good morning.”you greeted them.

Rei, who was facing away from you, finally turned towards you. “Good mo-”Rei’s breath hitched, eyes blown wide, as the plate of bacon fell from her hands.

Its funny how everyone in the kitchen, including you, had the same thought at that moment.

What the fuck?

Taking a deep breath, you moved to sit in your usual spot between Fuyumi and Rei, but Shotou suddenly pulled you back and pushed you into the seat beside him. He knows his mother is in a better state mentally, but something tells him not to risk it. Fuyumi snapped next, quickly getting up and cleaning the mess on the floor while Enji pulled Rei, who was still staring at you in disbelief, to sit beside him. You remained indifferent to everyone’s stares, quietly eating your food. As soon as you were done, Shotou got up and quickly pulled you out of the room, Dabi following close behind.

They sat in your room as Shotou looked at your hair with worry. “Looking nice, doll.”Dabi chuckled as he plopped down on your bed beside you. “Thanks.” you mumbled. “Y/n how did- why did you- why did you cut your hair?” Shotou asked, still looking at your choppy hair. “Do you not like it?” you asked. “N-no I do. But what will mom say-” “Shotou, its my hair.” you snapped. “Yeah, Shotou.” Dabi mocked. Fuyumi and Natsuo soon joined you guys, worrisome looks on their faces. “Why did you cut it? Oh my god, do you even know how much trouble you’re in?” Fuyumi was freaking out. “Its my hair.” you rolled your eyes. They ignored you. “Okay, okay. Shotou why don't you stick around with Y/n for a couple of days? Fuyumi and dad will try to keep mom away from her.” Before Fuyumi could nod, you stood up. “No.”

Natsuo looked at you confused. “what do you mean “no”?”

“I mean no. I don't need Shotou to babysit me. I can handle myself.” Fuyumi walked towards you, reaching her hands for you but you backed away, “Y/n, sweetie-” You cut her off ,“Stop treating me like a child.”

Shotou spoke this time, “Its for your protection-” “Protection from who? Our mother? Why?”your words dared them to say the truth. To agree that Rei was unstable. They didn't say anything.

A few days had passed by and things were returning to normal. Almost normal. Rei still had this thousand yard stare when she looked at you, but she never said anything. Cutting your hair was the best decision you had made, because not is it only easy to manage, but it also got the family off your back. Rei doesn't wash your hair anymore(although you think she's just not over the shock), Fuyumi doesn't need to do your hair, they dry faster, and all of your brothers (including Dabi) doesn't mess around with them anymore. Enji was the first to adjust to your new cut, he even complimented you one day.

Did you feel guilty because you know how attached Rei was to your hair? A bit, but then realised that you needed this. You need some control over your life, and if this is how they react to your new cut, then maybe you could start taking back reigns over other aspects of your life as well.

You thought that maybe Rei had finally gotten over it a week later, when you were laying in the bathtub, enjoying the hot bath. When you heard her walk in, you were a bit startled. Why was she here- is she finally over it? "Um- hey." She smiled at you. "Why are you here?" She took the bath stool and sat behind the tub. "You know why." She replied and started rolling her sleeves up. Is she here to wash my hair? "Oh, are you here to wash my hair? I don't need help with that anymore now that they're short." Rei smiled again, this one looking forced, before dipping her hand in the tub. "No, silly." And with that, Rei froze the entire the tub in 2 seconds. The ice trapped your limbs, and reached up to your clavicle. The sudden change from hot to cold had you jolt, but you couldn't move due to the frozen ice. "Mom-!" You heard the buzzing sound of a trimmer and then felt Rei entangle her fingers in your hair to yank your head back. "I'm here to complete your haircut." You tried moving your head but her grip on your scalp was unrelenting. She started trimming the right side of your head, moving it slowly as to get every single hair. "Honestly, you should've come to me. I do agree that it'd be a good idea to start again." Tears fell from your eyes, your teeth chattered and you could feel your heart beat slow down as the cold seeped into your bones. "M-mom, I'm col-d. P-please s-stop..." Rei was done with one half of your head. "You know, I read somewhere that your grows thicker if you cut it. I'm sure that after I've shaved your head, your hair will grow even fuller. I've already gotten some new oils and hair masks! Maybe we could do them together." You couldn't hear anything besides the slowing of your own heart beating. Your breath had started to become shallow, you couldn't think about anything except for how painful ice could be. Your lips were turning blue, eyes were getting clouded with black spots, all sensation from your body was losing. Just before you lost consciousness, you heard the bathroom door open and a panicked yell.

You felt warm.

When you came to, your entire body felt warm and weighted, probably due to the heavy blanket spread on you.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself in a dimly lit room. It was...your parents room. Why am I here? You turned your head to look around but your eyes stopped at the large figure sitting on a chair next to your bed.

"Dad?"

The figure's head snapped towards yours. "You're awake." He paused. "How- how are you feeling?" You moved the blanket off you, your body felt dense and ached. "Warm and...sore. What happened? Why am I in your bedroom?" Enji shifted in his seat. "I think its best if you stay here from now on, so that... your mother and I can look after you." Your eyes widened. "What? Why?" You moved to sit up but then a pain shot through your head. "Ah shit." You hissed in pain as you went to massage your temples but your hands halted at the feeling of your hair... or lack there of. You tried to run a finger through your choppy bob cut, but all you felt was your shaved head. Your eyes met Enji's, looking at him in disbelief as you recalled the events that had led up to this. "Darling-" You jumped off the bed and ran towards the vanity mirror, praying that this is just a nightmare. But as you looked at your reflection, you realised that this was the terrifying reality you were living in.

Tears dripped from your eyes as you took in your appearance. Trimmed- no, shaved pink hair. You couldn't see a single bit of hair above the roots, only a baby pink scalp. She had not only trimmed your hair first but then also proceeded to shave your scalp off. Your head looked like it had peach fuzz.

You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not even when Enji placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/n-" He didn't even what to say. He was still in shock from what would've happened if Fuyumi hadn't yelled for him when Rei was-

Enji shook his head. Now's not the time. You're here and you're fine. You're fine. Enji pulled you towards him, burying your face in his chest as you cried. "You're fine." He repeated, more to himself than to you. "Why- why would she do this?" Your voice was muffled by his chest but he understood. He understood your pain and it tore him apart that he still wouldn't be able to help you.

Enji honestly didn't know what to tell you. He didn't know what words would bring you comfort. "It... it was an accident." His chest rumbled as he spoke. You pushed yourself away from him as you looked at him perplexed.

"What?" Your eyebrows raised, nostrils flared and blood rushed to your face. You were going to blow up.

"An accident? Is that what you said? Oh okay. Was it an accident when she froze the fucking tub? Did the trimmer accidentally fall from her hands to my head?! Oh and did she accidentally pull the razor over my head?!" Angry tears fell from your eyes but you were far too enraged to care.

Enji opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Turning around you saw her.

Rei was standing there with a tray of food and water. Her face turned to shock before turning to happiness. She set the tray on a nearby table before she rushed towards you, her hands reaching for your face.

"Angel, you're awake-" you pushed her hands away roughly as you backed away from her.

"Dont you dare touch me."

The couple, they had never heard your voice such hostility. It wasn't like you. Rei shook her head as she tried to reach for you again, taking another step in your direction. But you smacked her hands away again. "I said don't touch me!" Your yelling had got your siblings to rush in the room, wanting to see what the commotion was about.

Rei's eyes shifted from you to Enji, looking at him for help, before they returned back to you. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Y/n, darling. What's wrong?" You scoffed at her soft tone that tried to quell the storm of negative emotions bubbling inside you. "What's wrong? What's wrong? I don't know, you tell me, Rei. Why the fuck am I bald?!" Your head was pounding with rage, raw unbridled anger.

When Rei didn't say anything, Fuyumi stepped forward to help her out. "Y/n its-"

"Shut up."

Fuyumi's- everyone's eyes widened. Of everyone, you never even rose your voice at your favourite sibling. But to hear your voice turn so cold towards her, it shocked everyone. "Y-Y/n-" she tried again but you cut her off. "I said shut up. I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Rei and she'll answer for herself."

Enji placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back slightly. "Have some respect. She's your mother-" You yanked your shoulder away from his grip. "No, she's not!" You inhaled deeply, trying to stabilise your voice. "No, she's not. You're not my dad. I'm not a part of this family. And I'm so sick of playing this game."

Dabi's eyes narrowed. "Stop being an ungrateful brat. You've been given all the luxuries one could only imagine, spoiled to no end-" You laughed. "Did I ask for anything?" "You never had t-" "And all these luxuries that you're talking about, I didn't get them for free. I had to give up a lot. No, wait-" you laughed again, tears blurring your vision. "I didn't give up anything. You all took it. Yeah, all of you snatched everything away from me. My family, my friends, my privacy, my sanity, everything. And you-" you moved towards Rei, pointing a finger at her. "You have been the most greedy one of them all."

Rei's jaw fell open, as she shook her head. "No-" You shook your head.

"Yes! I gave you everything. I let you dress me up in those god awful clothes, feed me whatever you wanted, stick to your side like glue because you don't like it when I was out of your sight for a more than a few minutes. For fucks sake, I didn't even go to college this year because you weren't ready to see me become an adult!" You ran a frustrated hand through your hair. "I played into your sick little fantasy. I let you treat me like a child, talk to me like I'm some helpless baby. I let you touch me even though it disgusted me to no end. I never even complained when you gave me ice burns because I was throwing a tantrum." You looked at the rest of your family, and they were shocked to hear that last bit. You smiled cruelly at them. "Yeah, you didn't know that did you?"

Rei was crying herself by now, as she reached out for you once again but you moved away. "I let you have everything. All I wanted was this little bit of freedom, for my own sanity. But you couldn't stomach that could you?" Your head hung low, your tears hitting the floor.

"Why do you have to be so selfish?"

Your voice held so much pain and defeat. Rei couldn't help but engulf you in her arms, wrapping herself around you tightly before you could even protest. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried out. "I- I promise I'll fix this! Yes. I-I've already gotten you some new hair oils! They say that they'll help you grow 6 inches in a month! Oh and Natsuo also brought some stuff for hair growth! Some vitamins and- Natsuo whats that spray called? Minoxy? Mi-minoxidil! Yes! He said that'll help you grow your hair in no time! Doesn't that sound nice? You'll have long hair like before!" Rei pushed back to look at you. You couldn't believe it.

"Are you- are you really that delusional?" Your voice was so soft, almost like you would break any moment now. "Are you so blind to see what you're doing to me?" Your eyes held so much pain and confusion. "Sweetie, don't worry- mommy will take such good care-" You pushed Rei away from you, your anger rolling back in full speed. "YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!" You shrieked. "Y/n-" Shotou tried to interject. "I'm not a part of your fucking family."

Enji stepped towards you. "Calm down."

You looked at him. "You said that what happened was an accident. What will you do if another one happens? And you're not around this time to save me? Hmm? What will you do? Continue playing house with my dead body?!"

Rei's sobs shook her body. "Shut up. Think before you say stupid shit like that." Dabi spoke this time, moving to stand between you and his mother. "Or what? You're going to hurt me? More the reason why all of you, but especially you-" you pointed at Rei "deserve to be in that nuthouse-!"

You were on the floor before you could even process what had happened. Had you- had you fallen? But when the searing pain of the burn on your cheek came alive and you looked at his hand that had erupted in blue flames, you realised what had happened.

Dabi slapped you.

"Y/n!"

Your cheek felt like someone had placed a hot iron on it, the sting spreading to your entire cheek, but you were far too shocked to care about the pain.

Dabi slapped me.

Shotou, Natsuo and Fuyumi quickly rushed to your side, picking you up and out of the room, while Dabi stood there in stunned as his own hand throbbed. The image of his handprint branded on your scared face wasn't going to leave his mind anytime soon.

Enji hesitated, looking at his wife and son in disbelief, before leaving the room to look for you.

Rei walked towards Dabi and smacked his arm. "What did you do?!" She yelled at him. He opened his mouth to explain but nothing came out.

"She's your little sister, Touya! W-why would you do that?!" Rei scolded him.

He hurt you. Like Enji hurt Rei.

He hurt you.

Rei sighed before closing her eyes and engulfing Dabi in her arms. "Its okay. Its not your fault." She rubbed his back soothingly. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

Dabi wrapped his arms around his mother, burying his face in her neck, before nodding.

"Yes. It was an accident."

So... how was it?

[btsxmalereaders]

♡ Meant To Be

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x male reader

Fluff ♡ | Requested

Word Count: 2,8k

Masterlist

Don't forget to vote on whosfan and stream

"Aren't you even a little curious about it?"

You've heard this question thousands of times already; yet, the answer for it has never changed.

"No, not really." You shrug while your friend stares at you in disbelief. "Why do you ask knowing my answer?"

"I just had the hope that you changed your mind," Jeonghan says. "You know, out of everyone in our group of friends, you're the only one who hasn't found their soulmate."

You take one last sip of your tea and sigh, "And you're telling me this to make me feel bad?"

"No! It's just... I thought that would make you feel at least curious of the person whose name is written on your wrist ever since forever."

Your eyes immediately go to your wrist, and your other hand covers the name with your sleeve.

"And I still don't get your habit of covering it, as if you don't want us to know." He laughs. "Are you trying to ignore it and expect to find them like people picture it on dramas?"

Inevitably, you roll your eyes, "I don't know what to tell you. I just think that if we're really meant to meet, then it's gonna happen... someday. I'm in no rush."

Jeonghan nods in understanding, "I guess you're right."

"I am always right." You chuckle. "Now keep telling me about Injae, how is it going with her?"

That's exactly the way you would always dissociated yourself from the topic every time you were asked about it. It wasn't something you really cared about, unlike to your friends. You were happy with the way things are right now.

"... we are taking things slow, and it's all going great. I am really happy about it." He puts on a goofy smile and his ears and cheeks quickly covers in a tinted pink.

"Aw, my little Jeonghan is in love, who would've thought?"

"Shut up, who said anything about love?" He tries to act cool, but he's still smiling and feeling nervous.

"Please," You scoff. "That smile tells me you're head over heels about her. And the way your eyes shine whenever you talk about her? Seems like love to me."

"Ha, ha, ha, you really like to make fun of me, don't you?" He sarcastically blurts. "I am dying to see how you're gonna be once you meet your soulmate. "

"Mmh, we'll see about that..."

Just when you're about to continue reading your textbook, your phone buzzes over the table. You already got distracted by talking to Jeonghan when you both were supposed to be studying for the upcoming exams, but you decide to read the messages you received.

"What's better, keep studying or going out to grab lunch with Sihwan?" You throw the question in the air, to which your friend hums.

"Your friend that works at JYP entertainment?" You nod. "I mean, anything is better than studying for socials, so if I were you, I would go."

"You say that because you want to bump into an idol, don't you?"

"If you meet Twice, could you ask them to  autograph something for me?" He says with a pout, making you laugh.

"I am not that lucky." You say and quickly start gathering your belongings to put them on your backpack. "You're meeting Injae later, right? I'll catch you up at the dorm?"

"Sure, I'll see you later."

With that being said, you start walking to the building. Even when your friend has invited you a couple of times already, you couldn't help but feel nervous. That weird feeling in your stomach and the tingling in your skin, like chills. Trying to ignore it, you pass by a nearby restaurant and order Sihwan's favorite food, carrying the bags carefully until you reach the entrance of the building.

After a few messages letting him know you're already there and a few more minutes of waiting, your friend greets you with a smile and a pat on your back, helping you with the bags in your hands and guiding you to the elevator. Unusual, but you don't say anything about it.

"I have more work than usual today, I hope you don't mind eating in my studio."

"You won't get in trouble?" You ask, feeling concerned,  but he only denies with his head as he presses a button.

"Don't worry, it's fine."

You silently follow him, trying to not look at anyone in the eyes when you walk through the hall, all the way to the studio. Anyway, no one seems to be aware that you are a regular college student. Lots of people work in there and it's hard to keep track of everyone in there.

"Come in, seriously, it's okay." He chuckles by seeing how you look around and slowly walk inside. "I've been working on the melody and guide for a new group these past hours."

The door is closed and Sihwan sits on the office chair and signals the sofa behind it for you to do the same.

"You brought food from that new restaurant down the street? Sweet." He says and opens the bag, placing the food containers on the wooden table between you two. "I've been starving."

"Working for a new group, you said?" You ask with interest, grabbing what you ordered for yourself and start eating as well.

Sihwan nods, "A girl group, they've been working hard and will debut soon, I hope you can listen to them."

"I am kinda old school, but for you I can do it, I guess..."

You two continue having a conversation about music and how you've been doing at college while sharing food. The last time you met with him was a couple of months ago, so the conversation keeps going for a while until he decides it's time to go back to work.

"Well, in that case I'll leave you. I've got to go back to study too." You say as you stand up and clean the desk.

"Mmh, okay. Thanks for this, how about we go have dinner next week? It's gonna be on me."

"Sounds great to me. Text me the details later?"

"Sure thing." He promises and smiles. "You know how to get back, right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. See you!"

As soon as you step out of the studio, you look around to make sure no one is walking in the hall, so you almost run to the elevator, not expecting that someone would bump into you as they exit one of the offices.

You fall to the ground and start apologizing immediately, feeling embarrassed.

"I am so sorry, I didn't see you." You hear them saying.

"No, I am sorry, I shouldn't have ran here." You say, and as you try to stand up, they're extending their hand to you to help you up.

You take the help and do a reverence as a thank you and clean the invisible dust on your clothing, and as you're about to walk to the elevator, their voice stops you.

"Y/N L/N?"

You stop on your tracks and finally have the courage to stare at them in the eye and realize that it's a guy, and a very handsome one, you must add. Your legs tremble at the sight, clearly stunned by seeing someone so good-looking. Your immediate thought is that he's an idol or trainee.

"Uh, do we know each ot-?"

Your question is interrupted as he shows you his wrist, and that's when you see it clearly. Your name tattoed on his skin.

"I am Hwang Hyunjin... your soulmate."

You're at the loss of words. The only thing you can do is get lost in his eyes staring back at you, looking for whatever to say, but the situation feels unreal. It's like your body is frozen.

"Hey, Hyunjin, is everything okay out there?" A third voice coming from the office brings you back down to earth.

"I am sorry, I gotta go." You quickly say the second he is distracted, running as fast as your legs allow it and get in the elevator, pressing the bottons and seeing him run in the hall one last time before the doors finally close.

You exit the building and walk to the bus stop, looking back from time to time only to realise that Hyunjin has not followed you. With your heart beating like crazy and your hands shaking you get to text Jeonghan to let him know you were on your way back to the apartment and that you had big news. He was definitely not going to believe it.

"Ow! What was that for?" You groan as Jeonghan grabbed a pillow and threw it to you.

"You just ran away?!"

"I panicked, okay? You can't put the blame on me for that!"

"With all due respect, you're an idiot." He sighs. "You met your soulmate and just ran, oh god... What are you going to do?"

"Uhh... nothing?"

Jeonghan grabs the pillow again just to throw it at you, but your hands stop him.

"Okay, okay, I'll do something about it. I'll go see him again!"

"That's a big lie, you say that as if I don't know you." He rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I am a coward. I don't know what should I do, help me." You say with a pout.

"Your friend? He may know him, don't you think?" He states as if it's so obvious.

"Ooh, you're right! I am going to have dinner with him next week, I can ask him..."

"See? It's like the universe is conspiring for you to meet again... Properly meet, I mean."

You stop listening to him as he starts complaining and making fun of the way you reacted earlier.  Your mind is now finding a good way to reach out to him.

"...And I could finally finish that song." Sihwan says with a grin and takes a sip of his beverage. "I was practically isolated and had no proper human contact for a while, so thanks to our talk and delicious food I could finish in no time after that."

You giggle, "Really? Then I am happy I could be helpful, don't forget to add me on the credits."

He laughs at the joke and continues talking, "You didn't get caught on your way out, right?"

"Well... about that."

"Wait, are you serious? Did you get in trouble?" He asks, concerned.

"No, no! It's just that... Do- do you know Hwang Hyunjin?"

It's now or never.

Sihwan seems to think about it for a second, feeling confused. "Yeah, I mean, our team is not working with them, but I've talked to him and his group a couple of times. Why? You ran into him?"

"Yeah, but also..." You lift the sleeve of your shirt, letting him see the name written on your skin.

"No way! Really?" He says with a big smile. "Hell, congratulations! How- wait, why don't you look happy about it?"

"Because I panicked and ran away before I could say something to him." You say and hide your face behind your hands out of frustration. "I need your help, hyung."

"Okay," He chuckles. "Of course, what can I do to help?"

You sigh and take out a folded paper from the pocket of your ripped jeans, looking at it for a second before handling it to your friend. "Could you give this to him?"

Sihwan takes it and nods. "Of course, I'll give it to him as soon as I can."

Now all you have to do is wait.

You plop down in the sofa and stare at the screen of your phone for the millionth time today, feeling hopeless at this point. It has been one week since you asked Sihwan to give that letter to Hyunjin, and ever since, you couldn't help but wait for a message from him, or even a call, despite you don't knowing what would you even say.

"Hmm, you haven't heard anything from him?" Jeonghan asks and sits next to you. You deny with your head and sigh. "Maybe he's busy. I heard his group is going to do a comeback soon."

"A what, now?" You ask, and your friends looks as you in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you haven't looked up for him on internet. I mean, he was in JYPE for a reason."

"Uhh..."

"Oh my god, I swear you are..." He doesn't finish his premise. Instead, he takes the phone from your hands and looks up for his name on the web. "Stray Kids, you didn't look up for him? I can't believe this, are you even on social media?"

"Shut up, let me see this."

You quickly read their information, going directly to the names and pictures of the members, quickly finding Hyunjin and realizing your friend is right. How come you didn't think of it?

"Oh yeah, here says they're releasing an album in a few days..."

"Told you." He murmurs. "Are you still going to wait for him to text you?"

"Do I have another option? I don't think I can go around the building just looking for him, even if I am with Sihwan."

"Hmm, you're right. I hope you can talk soon, though. Imagine this: you and Hyunjin together, we become friends and he gives me a tour in JYPE to meet Twice."

You roll your eyes and stand up, "You're being delusional. I'll go to sleep now, goodnight!"

"That's rude!" He groans and sees you walk away. "I hope you panick and run away again next time you see him!"

The next morning when you wake up, the first thing you do is check your phone, and your heart almost stops when you see a new message from an unknown number.

You go clean your face and take a deep breath to gather the courage you needed to finally read the long-awaited message.

With trembling hands you unlock your phone and click on the notification.

It was no surprise to see how easy was to talk with him. You two started talking on regular basis, when he was free from his schedule and when you weren't studying, which happened really late at nights.

Soon, those thousands of messages became frequent phone calls and videocalls that lasted hours, and to say that you both trusted each other with your lives was an understatement. You were still getting used to the idea that your soulmate was an idol; and it was weird to see him constantly on the internet, as of course you started following every other fan account you found on social media. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was trying to be very supportive of your studies and kept sending you messages of encouragement as well as listening to your ramblings about your career and complaints about your professors.

"So you've caught feelings for him, right? It was about time, Y/N" Jeonghan says with a shrug. "I know some soulmates only work as friends and all that, but it was pretty obvious to me that you'd end up in a romantic relationship."

"Really?"

He nods and smiles. "Of course! Are you going to ask him out?"

"I was planning to, but what if he doesn't feel the same? What if he just sees me as the friend type?"

Jeonghan hums. "Well, I think it's gonna be okay. You're soulmates for a reason, don't you think?"

You hesitate to grab your phone and open the message bar, typing a question and hoping things will go well after pressing the send button.

"Hyun, is it okay if I ask you out?

Like, on a date?"

A few minutes later you receive an answer,  needless to say, you didn't expect him to reply now, so you feel as if your heart is about to make a hole on your chest right now.

Hyun ♡

God, I was really hoping I wasn't the only one feeling this way.

Of course it's okay

I would love to go out on a date with you, Y/N ♡

You now feel at ease, the butterflies flying in your stomach and your body feeling so light as if you were floating. Is that how being in love feels like?

"He said he'd love to go on a date with me." You announce with a smile.

"See? There you go, my plan of meeting Twice soon is going awesome." He says and you give him a deathly glare. "I am kidding! But I have to say, who's smiling and blushing like a dumb right now?"

"Jeonghan!" You groan and grab a pillow to throw it at him, but he's quicker to stand up and walk away, still laughing.

Hyun ♡

Now you're not being shy, eh?

You won't run away from me when we meet?

You're the worst, you text back.

Hyun ♡

I may be

But I am your soulmate, so pretty much you can't get rid of me

He was right, but you were not intending to do that.

Because, now more than ever, you were sure things were meant to be this way. Right next to him forever.

[hoodieofholland]

Prove you something // Mob!Tom Smut

Summary: you get jealous over a meeting Tom have with another woman without your knowledge, and he has to prove you something.

Pairing: mob!tom x reader

Word count: ~4.5K

Warnings: smut (18+), fingering (f.), oral (f.), language.

A/n: I’m a sucker for mob!Tom, judge me, but these last contents we’ve been receiving for the past month are the blame. here we go again, enjoy.

Masterlist

****************************************************

As a mob, Tom had to deal with a lot of different people throughout his busy day. You were used to the meetings all the time, even when it was past afternoon, hiting the midnight. Patiently, you'd wait your turn to share some good time with your boyfriend, unless he wanted you to stay for the day, besides him, in the conference room.

Today was slightly different. Tom was held for hours in the conference room, talking business, while you distracted yourself with some other work. But by the time it was around 7p.m., you were bored enough to walk up the place, wanting to know when he'd be over.

Wearing your favorite pyjamas, you walked through the silent house, and just as approaching the conference room, you heard an unusual type of voice.

"Listen, Tom, I'm not here to discuss the shitty situation..."

It got your attention, made you stop in your tracks to hear better, all because it was a female voice. Normally, Tom would always meet with men, them being the mob leaders around London. Not a woman.

You tried to sneak around and see if there were another voice in the room, but as soon as you put your ear to the door's thick wood, Harrison came up behind your figure, making you jump.

"Holy shit!" You screamed in whispers. "Jesus, Harrison, you scared the hell out of me!"

Harrison didn't make any effort to cover his laughter, making you shush him.

"Sneaking around, uh?" He teased through laughters. "You know what Tom says about listening behind closed doors. Someday it might come back to you".

Trying to contain your madness, you cross your arms around your chest and snort. "It's meant for you guys, you idiot. He's not talking about his girlfriend".

"Are you really sure?", still holding his teasing smile, he tilts his head a little. Eyeing the door again, he pouted. "Why didn't he invite you tonight, then?"

"Said it was some small business and wouldn't take that long". You shrugged, though you knew it was bullshit. Tom had already been inside that fucking room for what seemed forever. It wasn't any small business talk, for what it matters.

"I can tell you that there's not small talking inside there" he pointed his chin in the room's direction. "Melissa is right there".

A little confused, but still not wanting to give your feelings away, you stay cool with your voice. "Who is Melissa?"

Harrison’s eyes narrowed and you can tell he had no idea you didn’t know about a single thing that was going on inside there.

“Melissa. The majoriest woman in this whole fucking city. She’s, like, the only female mobster leader in England”. The emphasis in his voice made you feel the message he wanted to deliver. You felt even somewhat a little weak, as if the weight of the presence of that woman could be sensed in your lungs.

Harrison quirked a brow, waiting for your answer, but you didn’t say nothing. Why was Tom lying to you? Why he didn’t want you to know that this woman was right inside the room with him?

“Is he alone there?” You questioned Haz, who shakes his head negatively.

“No, I was there a couple of minutes ago. Just grabbing a cup of tea”. He lifted the mug on his hand. “There’s also her guard or something. The chick is a bit... ugh”

You felt the weight again. “What the fuck does ugh means?!”

Harrison was about to explain, but seeing your exasperated reaction, he just smiled teasingly again. “I think someone is jealous”.

You puffed your cheeks out in frustration, wanting to tug on your hair, or maybe on Harrison’s.

“You’re being ridiculous” you tried your best to sound neutral about the fact that your boyfriend was inside a not very large room with a woman you didn’t know nothing about, but it was getting harder as Harrison seemed like having some fun torturing you.

“Don’t worry, y/n, that’s not what I meant” he chuckled softly and gave you a apologetic smile. “It’s just business, that’s all. You know Tom is far from being suspicious”.

You knew that very well, and if you were being honest, that was not your concern. That didn’t make you less jealous, though. Tom was the most faithful man you knew, not only with you, but with his mates. He could do anything for you and he surely had already proved that you’re the only woman in his life.

Anyways, the thought of that powerful woman inside the fucking room was driving you mad.

“I wanna go inside”, you stated, already turning on your heels. Harrison was quick to grab your wrist, trying to stop you from entering the room.

“Y/n, what the fuck, he doesn’t want to-“

But you were too fast. Yanking the door open, you hear a slight gasp coming from Harrison and the entire room goes silent.

The first thing you notice is Tom, who were crudely interrupted by you. He looked tense with the conversation, eyes heavy, shoulders rigid. His elbow was supported by the large desk in front of his chair, while he seemed to gesticulate with his hand whilst talking to the woman, Melissa. His gaze was directed on you, a questioning look on his features, which didn’t softened like it always did when he talked to you.

“Sorry, I told her-“ Harrison was quick to say, but Tom interrupted him.

“What took you so long?” Ignoring your presence, without changing a single word with you, Tom averted his eyes to Harrison, who came out behind you and sat back at his chair.

“She wanted to come” he answered quietly, unsure of what to say.

Tom looked at you once more, face serious, as he seemed to calculate what say next.

“Why don’t you go wait in the living room, y/n?”

You open your mouth, just to close it again immediately. You didn’t recognize the way Tom was talking to you, almost harshly.

"What, Thomas? You don't enjoy a good woman's company? C'mon, let the girl sit with us" Melissa, who you just had the worry to look at said, putting her long polished nails over her chin. She eyed you up and down before speaking again. "What a beautiful girl you have, by the way. You didn't tell me she was all of that".

Tom closed his eyes briefly, jaw clenching, as he sighed heavily in frustration. You knew he was getting mad, and though you still didn't know why, you made up your mind.

"I'm fine, gonna wait in the room. Sorry for-"

"It's alright", he shook his head and looked back to Melissa. "It was good talking to you, but I need time to figure it out before we decide anything", Tom stood up from his chair and waited until the woman did the same. "I'm going to have a talk with my men and then I call you back".

Melissa smiled, but you could see very clearly that it was nothing but a false smile. "I'll keep in touch".

Tom just nodded once and waited for Melissa to walk out of the room, guided by Harrison, who was equally tense as he made his way to the door. Before she exited the room, Melissa had an eye on you again, a tiny smile making its presence on her face.

You shivered, too aware of the dangerous and power Harrison told you she held, clear in the way she wasn't afraid to show she was staring at you.

When the doors were closed, you couldn't lift your gaze from the floor. However, it was possible to see Tom by the corner of your eyes and the way he was supporting both of his hands on the desk, staring so intently at you that you bet he could see your goosebumps.

"Now that you have my attention", he started, voice deep. "Won't you say what was so important that you couldn't wait 'til I was over?"

You didn't say anything, neither looked at him, frozen on your spot.

"I'm talking to you".

His stern act had you conflicted. He would always use it in bed with you, but never got so mad at something that you did. Something that you didn't even know what was all about.

"You were taking too long, so I wanted to see if everything was alright", you answered, keeping your voice loud and clear enough, not wanting to give him the impression that you were intimidated by his words.

Tom snorted. "That's bullshit. I've already been out until later than this and you stayed in our room".

You roll your eyes, voice cheating you as the irritation consumes your thoughts. "Well, in these nights you weren't with a girl inside here".

Tom's face changed and a brow arched as a trace of a smirk made its way to his face. You had lost your though posture and you knew it.

"Are you jealous?" He chuckles, incredulous, "Really?"

You snort, unfolding your arms. Looking relaxed is the last thing you seem to be able to do right now, but also you didn't want to sound so immature being jealous over nothing.

"No, I am not. I'm just mad that... that you didn't tell me who you were meeting with." You corrected him, though you were too aware it was pretty much a lie. With an unwanted whine, you continue "And why you didn't let me in this time? You see, you just left a whole amount of suspicious things to my imagination."

Tom narrows his eyes, a mix of curiosity and confusion evident on his face.

"You don't actually believe it yourself, do you?" He questioned, a suspicious tone in his voice. A bit ashamed, you glanced down and nodded two times.

"I mean, Harrison just told me she's the biggest woman in London, or some shit like that" you shrugged involuntarily and felt tired, as you started to realise how silly you must be sounding.

It was pretty obvious to you that none of that should matter. Actually, it never did. Tom never turned his head to another woman but you, since you met. He never talked about any other girl than you, and you could tell he bragged about how much of a "lucky motherfucker" he was, as Harrison started complaining about Tom's random rambling just the other day.

Tom had done nothing but adored you since the first time he called you darling. And now you were overreacting because of a common meeting of his.

Tom sighed heavily and offered you his hand. Looking at it for one second, you reach for him, and he brings you closer. "That's probably my fault".

You tilt your head, not understanding his point. Tom sits down back on his chair e mention for you to take a seat on his thigh.

"Don't get me wrong, darling. I let you come to meetings only if I'm one hundred percent sure there's no harm on that. When I'm with friends, not my enemies" he caress two slender fingers through your cheek and you almost close your eyes in please, if it wasn't for his deep stare, full of concern and comprehension. "That woman is nothing but trouble for me and my men. She doesn't like us, I don't like her, but, apparently, one of my man messed up with one of her best one, so I was trying to settle everything down before one of us start a fucking fight about it. Obviously, she hates me and every single one of my mates, and that's why I didn't want you here today. My most important job is to keep you safe, y/n. I've already dragged you too far into this mess, I can't expose you even more."

By the look in his eyes, anyone could tell how Tom meant it. He worried about you and your protection had become a topic of discussions too much for your liking.

He shifts his position, making it more comfortable for you, hand resting in your cheek. His expression earned an even more stern look, almost in pain as he looked deeper in your eyes.

"Do you really think that you should worry about Melissa?" He asks, voice low and soft.

You didn't answer right away. Instead, you tugged at his white plain shirt's collar, breathing slowly as you tried to manifest more of your composure than before.

"A little" you confess, shrugging slightly as if it wasn't that big of a deal. But for Tom, it surely was.

"Darling... why would you be jealous over that woman?" The pad of his index finger touched in the slightest move your bottom lip, tracing delicate paths over it. "Why would you ever be jealous over any woman? You know I love you". He looked up once again, a brow arching as he seemed to doubt his own conviction. "Don't you know?"

You shake your head yes and bite your lip. "Of course I do".

"Then why did you have something in your imagination?"

You sigh quietly. "Yeah, it was silly", taking his free hand and in yours, you play with his fingers, trying to hide your embarrassment. "I'm sorry-"

"It's alright, love", he gives you a small yet sweet smile. "You see, I get jealous all the time. Much more than you do. Think it's fair enough".

You giggle. "Yes, you do. I hate that and did the same. Sorry".

Tom shakes his head and brings his face closer to yours, planting a soft kiss in the corner of your mouth. "What a silly little girl you are. How would you ever think I'd ever have eyes for another girl, when I've got the prettiest with me?"

You release a breathe, your grip at Tom's shirt stronger, pulling him closer. "You'd be really dumb if you did, yeah."

Tom smiles in your mouth and you do as well. "Guess I haven't been showing my girl how much I appreciate her properly lately" he whispers, heading his lips along your jaw, to chase a soft spot on your neck. "Tell me, love, would you like to feel it?" His low and seductive words sent a shiver right through your spine, making you release a quiet moan in anticipation.

"Do you want to feel how much I adore you?" He breaths in your neck, smelling your sweet scent, as carefully grabs your thighs to get you to straddle his lap. "How much I adore your pretty little moans and whines? Those wonderful sounds you make just for me?"

You nod yes, adjusting your position on Tom's lap, rubbing against his crotch on accident and feeling he grunt with the contact.

"Use your words, my love. Need to hear you". He insists, running both his hands to your ass, grabbing each cheek firmly. When you whine a timid 'yes', he smirks against your smooth skin. "Always so eager for me", with precise movements, he guides your hips to meet his, creating a perfect friction between both of you. You could feel his hard against your pulsing center, claiming for more.

Tom lets out a struggled sigh, as if he was holding himself back when feeling your center pressing against him. "See? Only you can make me this hard".

You gulp, trying to catch your breath as your hands make its way to his trousers, but Tom is quick to deny it and stop you. "No, pretty girl. As much as I'm aching to feel you right now, I need to prove you something" he smirks playfully. His right hand releases your bum and goes to your front, making a smooth path in his way to your breast. He put your hard nipples between two fingers, pulling it softly. You moan and move your hips over his lap. Tom's jaw tenses up. "Fuck, darling". He presses his hand firmly on your hip to settle you down, as you smile apologetic.

"Need you, Tom". You whine, arching your back so you were even closer to him.

"Yeah?" He smirks, hand going back to work, sliding inside your pyjamas' short. Tom's brows arch in surprise. "No panties?"

You bite your lip. "When I came down here, I was thinking that maybe we could do something. After you were done".

He chuckled a bit, his cocky smile showing off. "So you were planning on getting fucked in my office?" You only nod once, feeling your center pulse and your cheek heat up. "You dirty, dirty girl".

Tom reaches your pulsing core, a single digit sliding through your wet folds. "God, baby, you're so wet". You moan, letting your weight loose on top of Tom, whose strong arms could handle it. "I barely touched you".

"Stop teasing me, Tom" you claim, eyes closed, as you feel he was threatening to enter two fingers inside you, but collecting them all together again.

"Darling, I think you shouldn't have a word about anything today" he says calmly. "After all, you interrupted my meeting, messed my work up. All because you couldn't wait to get fucked. Do you think you were good, y/n?"

You swallow hard, voice trembling. "N-no".

Tom smiles satisfied. "Yes. Now, though you don't deserve any of that, I'm a man of my word, and I said I was going to show you what my girl is worth of". He gesticulates briefly and you have to take a few seconds to understand he wants you to get up.

You do so, waiting until he gets up too. Confused, you stare at him, who cups your face, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I want you to sit in my chair". He murmurs and you can't help the surprise in your face.

"Why's that?" You frown and he only gestures his head to the chair again. With no other choice, you find yourself doing as you were told.

It was a strange feeling, the soft material of his chair against the bare skin of your exposed leg, where your thin shorts couldn't reach. Strange, because nobody would ever sit on Tom's chair. It wasn't exactly a rule, but everyone did better than risking taking what was his, and that being the biggest and most imposing chair in the conference room, only he could sit there. And maybe that's what entertained him that moment, the sight of you in a place that held so much power as that chair.

It took a good few seconds for you to relax there, and Tom didn't take his eyes from you the whole time. Staring, he would lick his lips, arms crossed over his chest, making his muscular arms very visible for you.

"You know, you could do this. I can picture you sitting here, making demands", he says, as if he was deep in thoughts moments ago, approaching you with hungry eyes. He puts his hands over the chairs' arm rest and lean in you, smiling.

You feel your heart race and try to correct your breathing. "Really?" You arch a brow incredulously. "Don't think I could be so tough".

"You learn this with time, darling", he reassures you, "But I think we'd have to manage who'd be in charge from time to time. I can share it with you, but not give it all. Would you like that?" You knew that by this time he wasn't talking about the mob.

With a charming smile, Tom gets down on both knees and puts his hands in yours. "Yeah, I think", you say in a whisper, too concentrated in his actions to say otherwise or anything else.

"Mmm. You're such a delicate angel", he opens your legs slowly, grabbing the back of your knee to pull you in to him. You gasp in surprise, holding the arm rest to keep yourself steady. "I imagine how you'd look like taking control. Perfect, I know".

It was a sight to see, a powerful man like Tom on his knees, a position you never thought you'd see him at. He looked like he was at your mercy, under your control, just as if he was there to please you, though he still did take the command.

"Tom, please", you whine, not giving a care about sounding desperate anymore.

"Patient, my love. Wanna take my sweet time with you", he pats your leg so you can lift your hips to help him take off your shorts. "Cause that's what I appreciate doing with you. Take every single part of you, make you mine. Slowly". He brings you closer and you pant when he kisses the inner of your thigh, eyes never leaving yours. "Take care of my girl, as she deserves".

You feel yourself growing anxious as you tried to stay still when he brought his lips up to your core. "You smell so good, love. Can't wait to taste it". His lips make no hurry to reach your folds, hot breath hitting your aching center. He looks up at you, wicked smile, as his mouth hover you, teasing.

By this time, you’re already dripping, walls clenching around nothing for the expectation. Finally, you felt Tom's lips connecting with your pussy lips, skillful tongue smoothly licking your arousal, spreading it all over your core.

He put his tongue inside of you, tasting it, adoring the way you'd roll your eyes back with pleasure. "Sweet as fucking candy". He murmurs with his mouth against you, causing vibrations all over your cunt.

You moan when he flicks his tongue over your bud, and tug at his hair. The reaction comes right away and Tom moans against you, putting one of his fingers inside you, but not deep enough, waiting for you to adjust as your walls stretched deliciously. "Can feel you swallowing my finger, baby. You want me?”

"Tom", you whine, arching your back as Tom pushes his fingers deeper inside you. "Please. Gimme more".

"You want more, sweet girl?" Tom smirks, entering you as much as he could, adding a second finger to your pulsing core. You felt the cold of his silver ring against your hot skin, causing you to have goosebumps. Feeling you clench around him, Tom started fingering you, hands precisely moving to stuff you in the most raving way. He took his pace, fast enough to the sound of your wetness fill up the room.

He laps your bud once again, repeatedly, catching it between his lips once in a while and sucking, making you release a loud moan.

You tugged harder in his curls and that's when he realized you were close. "My beautiful girl is close? Can feel you clenching, baby."

You nod once, trying to catch your breath as your hips rock against his fingers. Tom took them out and you almost pulled his hair for that, but he soon replaced it with his firm tongue. "C'mon, darling, fuck yourself on my tongue".

You did so, not caring about your messed movements or your loud noises. Tom was right there, holding you hip down with one hand to keep you steady and stimulating your clit with his thumb with another. It was the most beautiful sight you could have and you were on the verge of your edge.

"You're- fuck, so fucking hot, Tom" you cry out, head falling back. "Shit! 'M close"

Tom started to fuck his tongue inside you again. Your toes curl, your belly burns and your heart couldn't beat faster. Tom grabbed the back of your legs and abruptly brought you closer to his face, keeping his tongue firm and thumb working on your bud. He replaced it with his two wet fingers for a moment, just to speak to you and coax your orgasm. “Look at you, baby, so, so beautiful when you’re coming. Fuck, wish they all could see what a pretty and dirty girl I’ve got right here, angel”.

You moan and Tom can tell you’re about to lose it, putting his tongue back to work. "That's it, love, cum on my tongue, make a sweet mess on my face".

You couldn't hold back anymore. Your whole body felt like sparkles, as you tightened your grip on Tom's hair, chest panting, muscles rigid, voice coming out as the loudest moan of your night. It’s all about you now, what you feel. Tom is right there, holding you, controlling your body squirming with his strong hands.

Tom helps you ride out your orgasm, tongue and fingers never leaving you. His noise bumped into your clit as he seemed to enjoy licking your juices, face still lost between your legs. But when you finally saw him again, you thought you could have another orgasm just from the look on his face.

"Fuck", you pant, still trying to catch your breath. "You're- you're all covered-"

Before you could even finish, Tom got up from his knees and took your face in between his hands, capturing your lips on his. The kiss was messy, clashing tongues and teeth, but it was all pleasure. You could taste yourself, take what Tom had left on his lips. It was sweet - a mix of both of you.

"You're a fucking mess right now" you tell him, a slight giggle coming out of your dry throat, wiping some of the wetness from his chin.

"I know", he smiles back at you, pecking your lips once more. He catches the fingers you used to clean his face and leads it to him mouth, sucking on them gently. "Proudly. Who else in this fucking world can have the pleasure of being a mess with your cum, eh?"

You shove his shoulders playfully and spin the chair. "Well, I think I could truly run things here. Feel very powerful now".

Tom puts his hand on the back of the chair to stop it from moving. "That's because you had me between your legs just a few seconds ago, love", he smirks "But I think we can manage that".

You get up from the chair and put your hands on the collar of his shirt, gripping it between your fingers. "Good", you look up at him, smiling devilishly. "First thing, though, I remember you were here to prove me something".

"Oh, darling" he chuckled darkly. "We surely are not finished yet".

[mroddships]

Looking Good in Red

MacGregor doesn’t know why he volunteered but he did and now he is here in one of London’s most elegant Tailors searching for a wardrobe for Frank, the 400 and something-year-old skipper who hadn’t left the jungle for centuries. Lily was off doing whatever Lily wanted to do, most likely searching for a new adventure that the trio could embark on. For now though MacGregor’s only adventure would be to get through these next hours staring at a very beautiful man. 

MacGregor has dated before of course. He’s been with a few women and once he realized he wasn’t into them he had slowly moved on to the other gender, men. Being gay during this time was an awful situation and he could be ostracized from society so secretly he has dated a few men but it was never anything too special. A quick month or 2 month-long hidden relationships here or there. So it wasn’t like MacGregor didn’t have experience in the dating pool, it just was the fact that he hadn’t really “dated” anyone. Not really anyway. Not the way he’s heard of from his evening books or from his annoying but happy neighbors. Frank though felt different. Sure Frank and MacGregor weren’t even together but… well… MacGregor hopes they can be one day. He fully respects his sister and would never try anything while Lily and Frank were together but maybe, just maybe they would split up? God, MacGregor hates thinking this way. He adores how Frank treats her and thinks that the skipper is a perfect match for his headstrong sister. He just also adored Frank.

It is apparent though that MacGregor has no chance with the other man and so while they are both here today fitting into nice dashing suits, he has decided he will try his best to ignore Frank’s gorgeous muscles. That may be hard though since Frank keeps walking out of the fitting room half-naked complaining that most of the things in there didn’t fit him. Every time the taller man would walk out his upper body would be completely exposed, no jackets, no vest, no shirt. Just pure muscle. So MacGregor’s little plan isn’t going to plan whatsoever. 

“It’s just not fitting right! The shirt is too small, I can barely get my arms through the tiny holes and when I do I can barely button it. Is every man small here in London?” Frank comes once again out of the small fitting room with the shirt in his hand. He seems somewhat upset by the situation but mostly amused. “I swear MacGregor I didn’t think your face could get redder but I am mistaken.” He smiles at the smaller man, causing him to blush more. “See! It keeps reddening.”

MacGregor, now frustrated from Frank’s complaining and the heat in this room, walks over to Frank and grabs the shirt from his hand. “Well if you weren’t so damn big they would fit and yes Frank, my face reddens often. Glad you noticed now. Now please just find a shirt that fits and make it work so we can finally leave this god-awful place. I’m sweating buckets from this heat.” The smaller man walks around, searching for another shirt. His eyes land on the fairly huge red one. Not quite what MacGregor would wear but Frank isn’t him and a bold color might actually work for the giant. Grabbing the shirt, he heads back over to Frank and nearly shoves the shirt into his chest. “Here! Try this.” He leaves Frank who stands there and rolls his eyes before making his way back into the dressing room. MacGregor’s frustration slowly dissolves as he finds a pleasantly looking red tie. Maybe red could be his color? MacGregor never quite liked it on himself since he didn’t want the attention but after their near-death experience in the Amazon Jungle, MacGregor’s confidence had increased. Frank couldn’t be the only one who could pull of red. So MacGregor grabs the tie and turns to one of the huge mirrors in the waiting area.

“Hey!” whispered a voice next to MacGregor. Startled he turns around to see where the noise had come from. Frank’s head pops out of the room and he gestures for him to get closer. “I need some help.” Frank’s head disappears and MacGregor’s frustration comes back. 

“Oh, Frank I swear it is so infuriating to take you-AHH!” The smaller man was in the middle of his venting when Frank’s hand reaches out to him and grabs him by the almost done red tie around MacGregor’s neck. He is pulled into the small fitting room and is immediately pushed against the wall. “Frank what-”, MacGregor tries to ask but gets cut off by Frank shushing him. 

“I need your help, I don’t know what I am doing wrong.” Frank backs up a bit from the smaller man, allowing him to examine the problem. Frank had somehow screwed up the order of his buttons. How this man lived life for centuries, MacGregor will never understand. 

“You buffoon, you simply need to unbutton it and line them up correctly.” MacGregor begins to unbutton Frank’s shirt starting at the top. He is so busy that he didn’t realize just how close they actually are to one another. As MacGregor gets to the middle of Frank’s chest, he realizes and his eyes look up at the taller man who is looking back down at him. “Umm… see… its very simple.” MacGregor’s eyes go back down to the shirt and his hands work on the buttons the rest of the way. He works slowly, admiring as he reaches the bottom. Once the last button is undone his eyes snap back up again, staring right into Frank’s. Usually, the taller man’s face was expressionless unless there was some kind of smile but at the moment Frank’s eyes were filled with something MacGregor’s only seen during those secret relationships, desire. “Well, there you go. If you’d like I could help you with the rest but honestly I-”, MacGregor is cut off as Frank tugs on the red tie, pulling him forward. 

They both sit there silently, MacGregor feeling both scared and excited. “You look good in red. I noticed the tie earlier and had to get you in here so I could have a better, more private look.” Frank pulls the tie harder, causing a noise to come from MacGregor. His other hand raises above MacGregor’s head against the wall. “You also smell amazing. Like sweet vanilla. I’m not sure how but you should try to smell like this all the time.” Frank’s lips hover over MacGregor’s ear, sending chills down the smaller man’s spine.

“I… I try my best.  You also look very… very good in red. Very charming.” MacGregor struggles the last part out as Frank’s grip gets tighter. “Frank I don’t-”

“I already talked to Lily. She knows.” Frank hums. He nips the smaller man’s ear and receives a small moan.

“Oh my… umm… she knows what? Exactly?” MacGregor’s confusion fades as Frank begins to lick his ear.

“That you could also be world enough for me.” Frank backs up, causing MacGregor to whimper from the loss but Frank moves onto the other side, this time licking and nipping the smaller man’s neck. “Lily is everything to me. But so are you.”

“Oh, Frank… that sounds wonderful. I would love that deeply.” MacGregor exposes more of his neck to Frank, letting him explore even further. “Yes, I would love to be your everything.”

Frank bites down hard, MacGregor groaning from the pain grabs onto the taller man’s broad shoulders. Frank licks the spot and pulls away to a very dizzy-looking MacGregor. “This probably isn’t the best place to say something like that bu-”

This time Frank is cut off by MacGregor leaning forward and meeting his lips. MacGregor relaxes next to Frank, enjoying his strangely soft lips. “Any place would have worked for me. Now shut up and just kiss me.”

Frank’s eyes light up with joy and he smiles, leaning in to give MacGregor what he wants.

[oh-my-may]

Sakusa, Tsukishima and Kenma when their s/o gets a wound

requested: sakusa, tsukki, and kenma with a s/o who gets a wound? maybe they went to do an activity and get their knees scraped bad and the boys find out? how would they take care of their s/o?

Sakusa was such a good pick for this oh my that’s probably why his is a bit longer please forgive me I am weak for him ok

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

There were not a lot of things you could do as dates, since Sakusa declined most of your suggestions saying that it would be too unhygienic or too much work making sure everything would be clean.

But when you came up with the idea of going wandering on a mountain trail, where only mostly elderly people where, he was all for it. Of course he also didn’t liek staying insiode all the time, and a place where anybody went while being in nature sounded like music to his ears.

However you regretted your decision soon after you guys started your trip. You were breathing heavily and your legs already felt like spaghetti and you werent even halfway up the hill. Sakusa however, with his amazing sports stamina was walking ahead and barely notived that you fell way behind, until he wanted to talk to you and you didn’t respond to his words. He turned around wondering where you were. Did you maybe get lost? But then he saw you hanging over, your hands placed on your knees and you looked up to him smiling, but you couldn’t hide the exhaustion.

Your boyfriend couldn’t help but chuckle seeing you like that. He walks to you and stops in front of you, tilting his head while he observes your heaving figure. “You know, we can just return if you want to. But the air up here is really good and I guess it’s even better at the top.” You just shake your head, insisting on continuing this trip because it hasn’t been often that you saw Kiyoomi this careless. You were determined to make this an enjoyable trip for the both of you, but especially him. He deserved a pause from his hectic life.

So he grabs your hand and walks slowly beside you for a while, both of you enjoying the nature around you and the fresh air sweeping through your lungs. When you’re finally at the top you have a nice picnic while enjoing the view over the land, watching leaves dance in the wind and tumbling around you, taking in all the scents of exotic flowers and birds chirping somewhere in the tree tops.

You feel a lot better when you get back down. Walking down on a mountain is a lot less exhausting than walking up, after all. Your steps fly more easily. Too easily. You’re more careless with your steps and before you can stop it you stumble over a big rock in your way, landing on your knees before Sakusa can grab your wrist. However he’s quick to help you up again and you flinch and hiss when you shift your weight on your left leg again. Your knee is totally scraped, a small rill of blood running down your leg. Some small stones still stick to your skin and Sakusa is quick to pull out a small package from his backpack, because this man never goes anywhere unprepared.

He helps you sit down on a tree trunk next to the path you were walking and he looks at you with slight amusement but also worry in his eyes. He sighs before leaning down and placing a kiss on the top of your head and then kneels down in front of you, taking care of the wound. “What am I gonna do with you? You’re so clumsy...” he mumbles and you have to smile, though your knee still burns badly. Sakusa takes care of it perfectly, even kissing the bandage on top of your knee after he’s done. However, he doesn’t let you walk down again, he carries you down all the way on his back and you’re not complaining.

You just cling onto him and cuddle into his back, burying your face in his neck and stroking his hair occassionally, thanking him for taking care of you so well. He smiles to himself when he feels you pressing to him, feeling your breath so close on his skin.

After the trip he still checks up on your knee everyday, even when it’s not a wound that serious. He still claims that it shouldn’t get infected and that he’s the only one besides a doctor that can take proper care of it. Always kisses your knee after every check up! A true cariing cutie, I am way too soft for this man

Tsukishima Kei:

It was hard to get Tsukishima thrilled of the idea of going somewhere special to hang out. He was more of the stay inside kinda person, preferring just cuddling up to you in private.

You accepted his choices (even though you still got him to go to certain places sometimes) and that’s how you transformed everyday situations into little dates. Like lunch in school or staying in your garden instead of in the house, sometimes you’d even join his practice and watch him there. Even though he would never admit it, he enjoyed it when you do that. It always makes his insides all giddy and warm because you care for him so much!

You also always walk home together, talking about anything on your way or just quietly listening to music while enjoying each other’s company, silently holding or hands or sometimes he’ll just sling an arm around your shoulders and pull you close to him, walking like that for a while.

Today however you were “balancing” on a wall next to the sidewalk while talking to Kei and rambling about your day. It was fun to you focusing on taking the right steps, even though the platform you were walking on was not that small. You still had to be careful about where you placed your feet, because there were roots and other plants growing over and through the stone. “Ugh anyway, and then our teacher just made us write a test, and it was fine I guess but still sucked.” you ended your little rant.

“Y/N, are you really sure you should walk up there? Don’t you think it would be safer down here? You’re gonna get hurt if you don’t look out.” Tsukki just says while looking up to you with a vague face. You almost laughed seeing him like that. Was he actually worrying about you? Contrary to you always worrying about him at games, this was a nice change.

“Don’t be silly Kei, I’ve been balancing on things since I was a child, literally nothing will happen-” And that’s when you literally cursed yourself, because just moment later you stumble over a root and fall down, though you manage to cushion your fall with your hands which got the most damage.

Your boyfriend is right next to you in no time, helping you up and scanning your body for any injuries, but luckily only your hands got injured and your elbow felt weird, making your whole arm feel like some sort of pudding. Tsukki is just shaking his head while taking in the scrapes and cuts on your hands. You flinch when he softly touches your strained skin and he looks at you with disapproval. His eyes literally tell you “I told you so.” but fortunately he has enough tactfulness to not say it out loud. He accompanies you to your house, constantly shaking his head when you whimper and pout because your hands hurt.

He reluctantly helps you clean your hands, because he claims he’s not good with that kind of stuff and he only helps you bandage the wound because you don’t want to move your hands too much. Quiet sounds of disapproval still leave his lips as he does, though. Something like that could never happen to him, he says. Still, the look in his eyes is loving. He appreciates your playful side a lot. Without it, his life would be pretty plain. Without YOU it would be.

He loves you, but please prepare for a bunch of teasing after the incident. He will never let you climb on something or balance somewhere every again for a long time because honestly? He cares about you a little too much and he can’t bear to see you hurt in any way.

Kenma Kozume:

Kenma always seemed to be busy with some things. In the morning it was school, in the afternoon volleyball practice and in the evening and at night he was usually gaming.

You tried you best to insert yourself into his routine. Walk to school with him, spend the breaks at school with him, game with him, watch him at practice. You were fine with it, really, because you noticed how over the time he got more cooperative and sometimes skipped volleyball practice to hang out with you, or he was starting to game a bit less in order to go to the cinema with you etc.

But you still treasured the time the most when you could hang with him normally, like at practice. You could actually spend hours watching him do something else other than hanging over his console.

And the other members loved you, too. They appreciated you being at practice, it was like having another manager. You also took care of them and told them everything you observed, you brought snacks and cheered for them in any game. Sometimes you’d even join in during training camps and get along with other teams, as well.

You normally used your time during practice to do homework or work on other things, but today you helped out as the “ballboy/girl” basically and ran around the gym catching the flying volleyballs and collecting them for the boys. You’d throw them back to them or helped them to serve the ball, but you were always just moving around the whole time. You didn’t mind, though. It was actually very fun, the boys were constantly joking around. But Kenma didn’t look all that amused whenever a ball just closely missed you or when you almost fell in an attempt to catch a ball.

You watched as him and Yaku were talking to Lev and teaching him how to do a proper serve. The first year was listening eagerly, moving his hands and arms around enthusiastically and you found yourself grinning when Kenma moved his hands over his face in frustration.

Then it finally came to Lev putting all the tips into something and he was standing at the end of the field, ready to serve. You watched him fail a few times until he hit the ball with a loud bang and slammed it over the net, right to where you were standing. No one had enough time to react properly and before you could even think about diodging the ball landed straight on your chest and you fell backwards, hitting your head on the floor hard. For a moment you couldn’t see or hear anything, just darkness and dancing light in front of your eyes and a defeaning beeping in your ears.

Someone helped you to sit up and you slowly began to see contours of people around you, and their voices were still incomprehendable to you. You felt hands on your back and then on your face and you looked into your boyfriends face who had widened eyes and looked very pale.

Then he turned around and basically chased Lev through hell for doing this, giving him the lecture of his life even though you weren’t hurt that badly. there was a small wound at the back of your head and just a little bit of blood came out.

Kenma was by your side the whole time, flinching a lot more than you when you got a bandage around your head. You got some medication from the doctor and while you were tripping a little bit he still stayed at your side, giving you his console so you can play and distract yourself from ther pain

Literally really won’t leave your side, will stay at your house until you can go to school again and he just spends the days next to you in your bed, pouting when he sees the wound and carefully stroking your hair. He’s a big cuddler during this time and literally won’t led you near the gym anytime soon. He always gives Lev death stares when he gets near you, like a hissing cat.

A protective boy, 11/10 would love and cherish

[geminisholland]

Hi! What would you think about writing a fic where Tom and reader are both working on a show or movie or something, and they have feelings for each other, but they're too nervous to do anything, and then they both end up in a prop closet or something alone, and then ✨stuff✨ happens? If not that's fine!!

a/n: uhhh i got really carried away with this, and am really obsessed with the idea so thank u for sending it over!! also actress!reader is like my favorite trope to read so it really was no shock this was my favorite to write! i also did my best to portray tom as the gemini man he is. also, my inbox is open, send over requests!

warnings: cussing, sexual tension u could cut with a knife, an intense make out sesh (no smut)

word count: 2211

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the long nights on set were beginning to catch up with you and your costars. every day you felt more delusional, surviving only by the caffeine that tom would bring every morning. it was really a routine at this point, you’d sit down in the chair of the hair and makeup trailer, and one minute later tom would stroll in with your exact order.

“and an iced matcha for the diva,” he liked to joke. that was his nickname for you, diva. he thought that maybe you’d pick up on his flirting if he started calling you names like diva, and princess. you payed no mind to him, because you thought he was making fun of you. that he didn’t take you seriously, and that was frustrating, because, well, you had feelings for him. you weren’t entirely sure how he felt about you, though, and it was driving you insane. you’d convince yourself you would be okay without him, that if he didn’t like you back, you’d survive it. but then he would walk in to the trailer, holding your matcha, and calling you diva. you couldn’t push aside the euphoria that rushed through your body every time he called you that. you actually really enjoyed it, but tried to ignore that as the embarrassment of him making fun of you settled in.

tom was really cocky too, but you assumed that came with being an excellent actor, and being quite successful. you’d talk to your friends about him, because when were you not talking to him? when were you not thinking about him?

“he’s so cocky, maybe i don’t actually have feelings for him,” you’d explain. “he walks around calling me names, who does he think he is?”

your friends would groan, because they heard this everyday. they would go from “yeah he sucks” to “aw, you should tell him how you feel, you two would be so cute together.”

you just felt so stuck. you’d act in scenes with him, and would feel the connection, but as soon as the director yelled cut the connection would turn to a code that you couldn’t decipher. you really couldn’t figure him out.

he would abruptly open your trailer door, and yell, “hey princess, let’s get going they’re ready for us!”

you’d roll your eyes, but walk with him to set anyways, because you enjoyed his presence. you were friends, at this point. he would invite you to his place for game nights, and take you out to dinner during particularly hard days. he would show up to your place, unannounced, with a pack of truly’s- just cause. you would give him rides to set, and get him his favorite food when he’s filming. you tried not to think about how often he would send you the “you up?” text, because you didn’t want to convince yourself this was something, when there was a possibility it was nothing.

but, you really liked him. he was tom holland, your celebrity crush. the person you’d call when you’re sad. the person who you’d run scenes with for hours on end, and never get tired of being around him. the person who you could just look at, and feel safe. he was home to you, you just didn’t know he felt the same. so, when the electricity went out during a particularly bad storm in Atlanta, and you and tom were in the supplies closet alone, you weren’t exactly prepared for what was about to happen.

“you really ordered an iced matcha while there’s, like, a borderline hurricane happening outside?” tom exclaimed. he stared at you as you stood up, and grabbed the drink from his hand.

“yes, i really did,” you shot back. “what are you gonna do? call me a ‘diva’?” you smiled at him, and his eyes slowly moved down your body than back up to meet your eyes. yes, he really did just check you out, but you were sure you only imagined that in your head.

“i might,” tom replied, then sat in the chair next to you. “it’s still early, though. there’s time to catch up on the name-calling.”

“i’m looking forward to it,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. sometimes pushing tom was fun. tom shot you a glare, and you smiled to yourself as you sat back down.

“weather is crazy, huh?” tom observed. “i’m not the biggest fan of big storms like this.”

you looked over at him, noticing the concern on his face.

“i think they’re fun, i absolutely love just sitting at the window, and watching rain,” you confessed. the two of you were looking at each other, the only noise was the rain outside the trailer. your heart was beating so hard, you were certain tom could hear it. just the two of you, alone in a trailer. nothing new, yet something felt wildly different this time. perhaps it was tom’s vulnerability due to the storm happening outside.

the feelings you were marinating in were disrupted by the trailer doors being opened, and the makeup artists walking in.

“so sorry we’re late, the storm is insane,” one of them apologized.

“no need to be sorry, tanya, we’re just glad you got here safely,” you replied. tom nodded his head in agreement, and they started to work their magic on the two of you. while in the makeup chair, you and tom decided at the beginning of filming that you would switch who plays the music every day. so, your day to play the music was today, and even though the two of you agreed on this, tom complained.

“why can’t i just play the music today? you always play the same songs,” he whined. you rolled your eyes at him, trying to ignore him.

“oh god not taylor swift again!” tom groaned. you loved that even though you were the one who was perceived as dramatic, tom was actually the diva.

“tom, shut up,” you said back. “you are so annoying when it comes to this shit.”

you looked over at him, and he was looking at you. his eyes sparkled in the light, and you felt your stomach flutter at the way he stared you down. you looked away, staring back down at your phone to try and recover.

a few moments passed, and the two of you were done with hair and makeup. now was the real challenge, getting to the set during the insane storm.

“where’s the umbrella, tom?” you asked while you looked around.

“i have no idea,” he answered. you looked up and glared at him.

“didn’t you bring it over here? i could’ve sworn you were holding one when we walked here twenty minutes ago,” you mocked. tom smiled.

“it’s right here, i’m just messing with you,” he replied.

“you’re so annoying,” you remarked.

you grabbed your script and the matcha, then made your way over, talking about the scenes you were shooting today. this was something the two of you did almost every day, you liked to rehearse your lines before getting on the stage. when the two of you arrived, you set down your script, but kept drinking your matcha as you and tom started blocking. this was something you did before every scene, and was what made your days so long. you had to work out every detail of the scene you’d be filming before actually filming it; which was time-consuming, and sometimes frustrating. you and tom were set up at a table for this scene, sitting across from one another.

“y/n, if you could just move your head more towards the right, we’d get a better shot,” the director called out. so you did, and in doing so, your hand moved with you, and knocked the matcha off the table.

“oh shit,” you said, looking back at the director with an apologetic face. “i’ll clean it up, don’t even worry!”

tom sat across from you, laughing at you as you scooped the ice off the ground, and put it back into your cup.

“that doesn’t sound good,” the director replied.

“no, don’t even worry! i’m totally cleaning this up, it’s gonna be spotless,” you breathed out. you were extremely worried, though. the green liquid covered the floor of the diner set that was built. tom eventually started helping you.

“this is ridiculous, y/n, you can’t scoop the liquid with your hands,” he observed. “let’s go get some paper towels, okay?”

you looked up at him with watery eyes, you were worried that you had just ruined a set that took a while to build.

“okay,” you agreed. the director walked up to the two of you, looking at the spilled drink then back at you.

“i’d think paper towels would be more helpful than your hands, y/n,” he joked. “don’t you think?”

you nodded, “yes, tom and i will be right back with those.”

you and tom walked in silence over to the supplies closet, where they kept the paper towels.

“so embarrassing,” you let out under your breath.

“what was that?” tom asked. he opened the door to the closet, and turned the light on. the closet was huge, so both of you went in to look for the paper towels.

“it’s so embarrassing, doing that in front of everyone,” you admitted. “i shouldn’t have had my drink there.”

tom scoffed, “oh please, we all bring our drinks with us when we’re blocking, anyone could’ve done that!”

you nodded in agreement, uncertain of your voice at the moment, so you opted to stay silent. the lights started flickering right as you found the paper towels.

“that was weird,” tom announced.

“yeah, that was weird,” you replied.

the lights flickered again, and within seconds you were in pitch black.

“wow,” you let out. “tom, where are you?”

“i’m right here,” he said. you laughed, because you thought it was a ridiculous answer. you put your arms out, and tried to walk towards him.

“do you have your phone? i need a flashlight,” you asked.

“no, i left it out there,” he replied.

“shit, me too,” you noted. “put your arms out, i can’t find you.”

“okay,” he said. you walked for a few seconds, then ran into him.

“there you are,” you commented.

“here i am,” he said. the two of you were standing so close, his hot breath was felt on your face. your eyes started to adjust to the darkness, and you could see his features now. you could see his lips. oh my god, you could almost feel his body against yours. you felt butterflies in your stomach as you realized just how close he was to you. you could just touch him, you thought. you could, you really could just grab his face, and kiss him. right here, right now.

“should we try looking for the door?” you asked out loud. the silence was killing you, you had to escape it. tom stood still, breathing harder with every second. “tom?”

“you talk too much, you know that?” he breathed out. you were so taken aback by that statement, your breath grew shaky. “every time i try to make a move, you talk. you just-you talk too much.”

you stood there, in the dark, in absolutely disbelief.

“oh,” you let out. you didn’t know what to do, you were frozen. your eyes were completely adjusted now, and you could see tom more clearly. his face, his arms, his hands, everything. his hands moved up your body, starting at your hips then making their way to your face. you brought your hands around his neck, you were breathing so hard you felt as if you could pass out.

“you are so beautiful, y/n,” he revealed. “so fucking beautiful.”

you smiled, although you weren’t sure he could see that. your hands moved to his face, you cupped his cheeks into your hands. tom moved his face closer to yours, cupping your cheeks as well. he placed his lips onto yours, then started to kiss you. like, really kiss you. not a cute, little peck that you would see in the movies. a rough, passionate kiss. the kiss you had been waiting for all this time. one of his hands dropped to your lower back, and he pushed your body onto his. your hands started to move under his shirt, as your tongues started to swirl together. your cheeks flushed as the warmth of his tongue and body encapsulated you. his hand moved off your cheek, and started to move under your shirt to take it off.

the door abruptly opened, and a bright flashlight made you and tom move your hands up to your face. your bodies broke apart, but the damage was done.

“tom, y/n, we need you back on set, they’re about to turn on the generator,” one of your costars said. “oh, don’t forget the paper towels.” they started laughing, as well as both you and tom.

the three of you walked back, and you wiped your mouth, then looked at tom. he smiled at you, then put his hand around your waist.

you leaned into him, then whispered, “we’ll have to finish that later.”

he shook his head in agreement, “okay, diva.”

taglist;

@zspideyy @lilhoodhippie @th45 @lmaotshollandd @hollandfanficlove 

[sandersgrey]

in your dreams, whatever they be

(You can also read this on ao3!)

Taglist: @foxglove-airmid, @amchara, @goodoldfashionednerd, @adams-left-hand, @hardlymatters

It's been a few days of your little quest into the Faerie realm when you really put your foot down. It's not the first time you've wanted to.

"Kit", you say. It wouldn't have been enough to startle him a few days ago, but his hand flies to his dagger anyway.

"What?"

Ty doesn't turn towards both of you. It's clear he's listening, however, because he does take off his headphones. Bathed by the light of the small campfire you three managed to get going, his tapping fingers make the shadows on the wall dance. Kit has been staring at them for the last twenty minutes.

"You need to sleep."

"I'm fine", Kit says. "I'm not tired anyway."

That's bullshit, and he knows it. You scoff. He crosses his arms, leans back against the wall of the cave, raises his chin. There is something a little wild around his bloodshot eyes. A little like defensiveness, a little like fear.

"You haven't slept since we set foot on this realm, and it shows."

"No, it doesn't."

"You're getting slower," Ty interjects. You wave your hand towards him, emphasizing his point. "That thing earlier almost got you. I've seen you train, and you're usually faster than that."

"Well, thanks for the compliment buried somewhere in there, but it didn't get me, so. I's fine."

You now fully turn to look at Ty, expecting some solidarity in face of your common exasperation. He frowns. The tapping grows faster.

"It isn't fine. What if it does get you the next time?"

"It won't".

"You can't promise that," you snap. Kit's eyes finally leave Ty's fingers to stare, wide-eyed, at you. "If you get hurt-"

"That's what iratzes are for."

"Iratzes can't heal everything!"

"Look, I'm handling it, okay? I've been taking naps-"

"None of them were longer than half an hour," Ty says quietly. "I counted. You always wake up before that."

You point at Ty: "Yeah! And that means you're not actually getting good rest. You're getting clumsier, too."

"Wow, thanks."

Kit's sarcastic. You've known that for years. He has barely held his tongue during this entire mess, but it's mellower from his years away, his comments a little less biting. The change in him is obvious. For some reason, it feels like the last straw. 

"You're slower, you're clumsier, and you're getting way more distracted the more time goes by," you list. "If you get yourself hurt because you're too- I don't even know, stubborn?- to actually lie down for once, you're gonna become a burden. You're of no use to us sleep deprived."

Kit flinches. Ty's eyes snap to him.

Somehow, that's all it takes. Kit finally lies down on the floor of the cave (admittedly not the coziest mattress) and uses his backpack as a pillow, even if he grumbles the entire time. Once he's fully horizontal, he's out like a candle. 

Ty returns his attention to the fire. You start working on brushing all the leaves out of your hair, making a mental note to wake Kit up in a few hours. 

It doesn't take nearly that long for him to start screaming. 

" Livy!"

Ty becomes a living statue at the first scream. You don't blame him. Unexpected loud sound aside, it's- you just- you didn't expect to hear your dead sister's name today, is all. Some part of you wonders if her ghost is around to hear it, too. The rest wonders whether it matters.

The screamed Livys don't stop. It's-

It's hell on his throat, it must be, and that's what you should be thinking about right now. That, and the fact that you really don't want to know what else might be listening outside. 

"Not if you do this, Ty, not if you do this…"

Ty's still frozen. It might be in poor taste, but, well, it's fairly accurate to say- he's as pale as a ghost. Guess it's up to you.

Kit had fallen asleep with his back against the wall, facing towards the mouth of the cave. It's such a sensible position you hadn't thought to notice it means you can't see his face. 

The ground is too hard for you to be crawling on your knees, really, but when no other choice presents itself...

He flinches away from your touch when you try to shake his shoulder.  It works anyway: Kit's eyes blink open, dart around the little cave, see you- see Ty- 

He twists himself up and away from you.

Anyone would have thought it would help him to be awake. Instead, his breathing grows quicker. He's shaking hard enough to be noticeable; it's his hands, mostly. Ty inhales and exhales, deliberately, slowly. 

Kit curls up. He makes himself small, puts his head between his knees. There is something very methodical about the way he tries to slow down his breathing. It's clear he has done this before. He will, you think, do this again.

"Kit", you say, helpless. It startles Ty.

Kit shakes his head, doesn't look at either of you. 

"Just- just give me a moment. Okay? Just give me a moment."

He's rubbing his Voyance rune. You don't know if he's noticed- he probably has, didn't you just realize he's done this before- because he stops as soon as he feels you looking. Kit brings up his hood instead, hides in the shadow of it, holds his hands to his chest. 

None of you say anything. You don't know how long it takes for Kit's breathing to slow down to something a little more sustainable. Ty probably does. It feels like a small eternity.

When Kit finally uncurls enough to reach out for his bag, Ty passes him the water bottle without having to be asked. The water seems to help a little. 

"Are you okay?"

Kit's answer to your question is a snort. "Don't worry," he says. "I'll be functional enough come morning. Have to be, or wouldn't have been able to go to school back home."

"Kit", Ty says. Kit swallows. 

"It's fine."

"Well, it doesn't sound fine", you say. "How long has this been happening?"

Kit stays silent. Suddenly, the shadow of his hood feels a little less like shelter and a little more like a shield.

Ty is staring at him. He has been this entire time, you know- with laser focused attention. His frown keeps growing deeper the more the silence goes on. Until, finally: it eases into an expression you know well. Ty has figured it out, whatever it is.

"Two years." He says. His voice almost echoes in the small space. "It's been happening for two years, hasn't it? Ever since you left."

Kit shakes his head, but it's not a denial. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does."

"It's nothing you can fix in time to make me more useful," Kit snaps. Oh. Oh, you see now. "So of course it doesn't- it isn't- you don't…"

He makes a frustrated noise, and then shuts up.

Ty is still staring at him. You've never really questioned it before, but now it occurs to you: the way Ty looks at him is so different from how he looks at everyone else. Julian might say that Ty looks at Kit like he's a mystery. That's not quite right. 

Everyone is a bit of a mystery to Ty. But he looks at Kit like this is one he's willing to sit with.

As always nowadays, it seems this is up to you. You get up from the floor and dust off your pants, in a gesture that's more symbolic than anything- this outfit is going directly into the trash once you get back home. Kit glances at you. Ty doesn't.

"Okay", you say,"It looks like you two have a lot to say to each other. I'm not gonna go away, because that's how everyone dies in horror movies, but I am gonna stand at the mouth of the cave with my back to you and pretend I can't hear anything. Have fun talking."

"Dru-"

"Sorry! Can't hear you!"

The ceiling is so low you have to walk leaning down a little, but true to your words, the mouth of the cave is only a few feet away. 

Leaning on the rock, you let your eyes rest on the alien view of the landscape. (Mark is somewhere out there. The thought, you think, is comforting.)

There is only silence for a few moments. 

"I'm sorry," Kit says.

"What for?'

"For… I don't know. I didn't want- you didn't need to- there's a reason I didn't want to fall asleep."

"You need as much rest as us. Even if it's hard to get."

Kit exhales loudly enough for you to hear, shifting against the rock wall. He can't be comfortable. You know you're not. 

"What can I do?", Ty asks.

"You don't need to do anything. I don't- it's fine. I'll be fine."

"I know I don't need to do anything. I want to."

"Because I'm of no use to you exhausted?", Kit says pointedly, and you grimace. 

You're starting to understand that it might have been a particularly tactless thing to say. It seems an apology is in order- not now, while you're still pretending you're not here, but… later, maybe. When he's rested a little more. 

"Because I care about you", Ty says. "Useful or not."

The silence feels more meaningful this time. It drags on for longer, too. You're shifting your weight, starting to get impatient, when Kit finally answers

"You don't need to, but..."

"But?"

"Hold me?"

There is the sound of both of them shifting, fabric rustling as they adjust themselves. You valiantly don't look. The cave is small and echoey enough that you can make out the sound of someone- probably Ty- whispering, but still not tell exactly what they're saying without a rune. 

You don't reach for your stele. Something about this moment feels private.

When you finally turn back around, your legs complaining about keeping the same position for so long, Ty looks up at you and holds a finger over his mouth. 

Kit is asleep. He's curled up in Ty's lap, head tucked safely under his chin. A hand clings to Ty's shirt.  It can't be comfortable for either of them, but…

But, for the next few hours, his sleep is peaceful.

[mintvender]

May I request Y/N being stressed/angry and lashing out to the harem boys? Maybe yelling or accidentally hitting them? Sorry if your requests are full or closed!

(Please have a happy/fluff ending, If you can! I can't handle sad endings 😅)

Don’t worry, anon, you will definately know when requests will close. On top of that, it will be sometime until it will close. Also just a warning, this entire serie is pretty angsty so please be prepare. I also apologized for not releasing this earlier. Anyways, enjoy 🌿

HaremAU!

BTS’ Reaction to Y/N Lashing Out

Warnings: None

Masterlist

Kava kava: a shrub from the islands of the Pacific Ocean that helps to relieve stress and alter moods.

Kim Taehyung

Work have been piling up and has been causing you quite a bit of stress. Deciding to try and finish them all, you stayed within your study hours on end to push through the piles of work.

However, luck seemed to not be on your side tonight with unexpected matters constantly coming up after one another; to top it off, Taehyung had decided to personally come visit you.

Although he came with a reasonable purpose, because of how much stress you were under, it had clouded your mind, making you unable to realize what Taehyung was here for.

As a result, the moment you lashed out and knocked the pile of papers next to you, time seem to stopped.

Surprise at your rash actions, you couldn’t help but gaze over Taehyung’s figure, anxiously searching his face for any negative reaction.

However, contrary to what you were expecting, Taehyung decided to close the gap between you both. Before being in physical contact with you, Taehyung kneeled down and began to pick up all the fallen manuscripts and placed them neatly on the desk.

Afterward, he just hold your hand and told you that he was not mad at you. After the initial shock, you apologized and decided that it was time to end the day.

“ You don’t have to apologized, I understand what you’re experiencing.”

Kim Namjoon

With another day having audiences with different people, it was almost a guaranteed that your day will not be that great. With the accumulation of reports from the servants of a potential thief, you desperately wanted to resign this position and go back to what you were doing. Unfortunately, there was no going back when you are this far in.

Anyways, coincidentally, today was also the day of your monthly health checkup. Unfortunately, you totally forgot about it and dismissed Namjoon’s calls when he came.

Despite already sensing your mood, Namjoon continues to press on until you yelled at him, even throwing a book at him. Dismissing him on the spot, you didn’t even think about your actions until hours afterward.

Guilty of what you did, you summoned him to visit you again. You both then spent the time together to resolve the problem, apologizing for your guys’ rash actions.

“ I should have stop when I saw how busy you were. I apologized.”

Jung Hoseok

Going outside the suffocating palace was always a pleasure for you. Having the chance to forget your worries and just be yourself doesn’t always happen after ascending the throne so you definitely cherish these little moments.

Usually, you would spend most of those times alone but this time however, Hoseok have decided to accompany you on your little journey. You agreed, thinking of him as just a companion who you would spend your time with, not as his babysitter.

Maybe it was his innocent looks that attracted what’s opposite of him. The longer you guys are outside, the more wicked people became towards you. And to top it off, Hoseok doesn’t seem very affected by how vulgar they were being.

Finally having enough, you entangle your hands with his and stomped towards the opposite direction, openly ignoring yells coming from behind while lecturing how oblivious he is. Though, after minutes of voicing out your problems, Hoseok became eerily silent. Quiet little mumbles were then heard coming from his mouth which you assumed were apologies.

Deciding that it was enough adventure for a day, you pull Hoseok towards the palace, not forgetting to tell him that it was indeed alright.

“... I am sorry... I didn’t know.”

Min Yoongi

Yoongi can be quite clumsy when he is nervous and that is his usual mindset whenever he is with you. Normally, you wouldn’t even bat an eye if he were to accidentally knock the piles of work that you have worked on for hours — you have a soft spot for him.

Now that was what happens most of the time. However, you also tend to be quite witty when you’re frustrated, fully flaunting your adrenaline.

Making witty comments about his little mistakes, you — at that moment could not tell how much it affected Yoongi.

Unfortunately, his self-esteem continues to decline further when your arm went a little to close to him when he accidentally swept the tea cup off the desk. You immediately stood up and kneeled down, about to help him pick up the shattered pieces when he suddenly flinched at your actions.

Instantly backing away, you noticed the shivers that were wracking down on his petite figure.

Gently apologizing, you carefully brought your hand to his cheek, slowly to not agitate him. Using your other hand to bring him into your embrace, and staying there for how ever long he would need.

“ I-I am so sorry... Didn’t mean to break it...”

Jeon Jungkook

Training with Jungkook was something that you do quite frequently, either for relieving stress or to work on your skills. This time around, it was for the first reason.

Normally, you and Jungkook would both jokingly points out the opposite’s mistake or weakness whenever you guy duel, especially on Jungkook’s part. However, this time around, you weren’t in the mood to get teased and it definitely backfired to the both of you.

Jungkook’s words have went a little too far and had offended you.

Without even a chance to react, you pointed your blade against his neck, scaring him in the process.

Warning him for his precarious action, you lowered your sword before closing the gap between the two of you.

Noticing how you managed to slide the skin of his neck amidst the heated moment, you then dragged him to the benches nearby to get treated. Carefully applying the medicine to the open wound while paying attention to the apologies slurring out from his mouth, you still remained quiet.

After finished bandaging the cut, you lead him back to the training ground and force him to fight you, claiming that he must compensate you both physically and vocally.

“ Your majesty can punish me. I crossed the line, thus offending you during the process.”

Kim Seokjin

With how loud Seokjin can become, you are not very surprise how fast annoyed or frustrated others can get from just from a conversation with him.

However, you didn’t expect that you were part of that as well — at least when you’re not stressed. Anyways, with Seokjin having literally nothing to do within the palace, he definitely used that to his advantage when talking — pestering you.

Trying to ignore his constant pester, you tried to resume your previous work. Accidentally striking your hands up in frustration, slapping Seokjin with the brutal force, you were suddenly snapped back into reality.

Luckily, all he did was screamed at you while exaggerating his now crimson cheeks. Forcing you to help him apply the medicine while hear him complain seemed not that bad as of now, as long as you don’t lose him.

“ YAH! Be careful, do you know that compensating me by just applying medicine is not enough??? Lucky for you, I didn’t receive any major injuries!”

Park Jimin

Flirtatious and frustration does not combine well, especially between you and Jimin.

In these moments, you guys might as well label each other fire and ice with how different you are.

Smoke could almost be seen surging out of your ears, cheeks so crimson that you can almost be described as a tomato. On the other hand, Jimin was sitting opposite of you, calmly looking over your work as though it was nothing worth keeping.

Taking offense of how much time you have put on these manuscript, you snatched them out of his grasp, yelling at him to leave the room.

Stunned at what you just did, Jimin could only sit there and stared at your demolished figure.

Noticing how he had yet to move, you stared into his eyes, silently ordering him to leave.

But how did you ever thought that Jimin would leave you alone, especially in this kind of situation? Freezing at how close he suddenly is, you were dragged from your disastrous desk to the bed.

After getting tucked in, you got hugged by Jimin, spending hours there afterward.

“ You better still be here the moment I wake up. If not, don’t expect to be doing anything tomorrow!”

Copyright © 2021 MintVender

All rights reserved.

[dandyxrandy]

After-Shoot

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Length: 3k

Warnings: Protected Sex ; My Spanish sucks so Google translate helped. If a phrase is wrong, PLEASE reach out to me so I can correct it. Also not beta read. So if mistakes found, again, reach out. The easier for you to the read, the happier I am.

Gif Credit: @pedrospascl

It couldn’t get any worse, you told yourself. It really, really couldn’t. This was the first time you were invited to have coffee with another in God who remembers how long and you ended up being late. Not only were you late, but you were cold and soaked to the bone from the rain that ended up being a whole hour earlier than the forecast predicted and really, you should've known better than to listen to any predicament of weather because it was usually wrong anyways.

You checked your phone again and it was still dead as a door nail. You had dropped it in a puddle earlier when you tried to answer the call from Pedro, no doubt wondering where you were, and it shorted out the motherboard. You would have to replace it whenever you got home and you honestly had half a mind to just turn around and do just that. That would seem silly, however, with you being more than halfway to Pedro’s apartment where he had invited you for an afternoon coffee get together the day before when you worked together on the Style Magazine photo shoot.

    You were really, really tired of having a shit day. Frustrated and in near tears you saw the place that Pedro was staying in for the time being while he was in your state. It was a nice condo type home with large front windows that overlooked the city, the style modern and sleek.

    You let out a small breath, even as the storm crackled above you, and tried to muster your resolve up. You were a mess, but hey - you were here, right? Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset with you. It wasn’t exactly your fault that you had to park six blocks away because there wasn’t any closer parking nor was it your fault the weather was wrong.

    You took a deep breath and rang the doorbell and before the small chime even ended the door swung open, Pedro filling the entire frame. Oh. He looked absolutely stunning. His soft curls were slicked back against his head and he wore one of the outfits from the shoot the previous day. One of the ones you had commented on, to be precise. His eyes took a long drag over you, from head to toe, his jaw working from one side to the other. His irritation seemed palpable.

    “I see the coffee isn’t the only thing that’s cold.” His hand slid down the door frame before dropping to his side, a hefty sigh heaving from his lips. “Come on, let's get you inside and warmed up. I have some spare clothes that you can wear.”

    You felt sheepish following him inside. He didn’t even give you time to explain and once the door was closed you were able to try.

    “Pedro, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to be late.” You, shuffled in behind him, following him to the bathroom where he grabbed you a towel.  “There wasn’t any parking and my phone died and I just - please don’t be mad.” And you did feel like crying then. You could tell he wasn’t happy with you and that on top of being cold and tired, you felt a little part of you break.

    He reached out with the towel and brought it to your face, gently wiping away the raindrops that stuck to your cold skin.

    “You have nothing to apologize for, guapa.” He brought his other hand to your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into the touch a little. You blame it on how he was so warm and you weren’t. “I was worried that something had happened. And then worried you stood me up.”

    “Stood you up? Yeah - okay…” You laughed at him but when you caught his gaze you saw it had softened considerably. He looked relieved and you noticed the slight part of his lips as he turned away, going to another room and reappearing a moment later with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that looked like it would even be big on him.

    “Why don’t you change into some dry clothes. We can throw your wet ones in the dryer.” He nodded to the clothes dryer that was in the bathroom. “I’ll go make us some new coffee while you swap out.” He set the clothes down on the toilet seat and gave you a half smile. “Mi casa es tu casa.”

    He left you then with a soft closing of the door and you felt a flood of relief course through your body. He wasn’t mad or upset or hell - anything that you thought he may be. Instead he was kind and courteous and worried, and you’d be damned if that didn’t make your heart melt even more. You thought of the moment when he had opened the front door and the dark look in his eyes and the tick of his jaw. It made a low heat curl in your belly at the memory.

    Was it wrong to think those things of someone who clearly wanted what was best for you at that moment? Pedro was, in all essence, taking pity and caring for you and all you could think about was warming yourself up by crawling into his lap. You were horrible, you decided, but the kind of horrible that could be forgiven later.

    You did change out of your clothes then, pausing as you tried to decide if you were going to keep your bra and underwear on but argued they would just soak the dry clothing. Off those went and joined the pile in the sink. You did a quick rub down with the towel to at least try to get most of the water off and then squeezed it through your hair before you stepped into the sweatpants and large tee-shirt, silently thanking the world at how warm they were. You wrung out your clothes as best as you could before you tossed them in the dryer and pressed ‘start’.

    When you opened the door the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit you and it instantly set you at ease. You padded your way into the kitchen but didn’t find Pedro there and instead turned to find him sitting on the couch without his red suit jacket on. Two cups of coffee set on coasters in front of him and a small spread of sugar and cream were there, too. The entire set up screamed ‘casual but obvious effort.”

    “Hey…” You rounded the side of the couch and sat next to him, unsure if this was alright. It was just your nerves.

    “Hey. I see everything fits well!” He teased lightly. “I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee so I figured I would let you do your own. I also turned the heat up a little to help get you warm.” Which would explain the missing jacket.

    Pedro took one of the cups and pressed it into your hands, his own wrapping around yours for a moment. “If you’re still too cold I can grab you a blanket or a sweatshirt.”

    “I think I have enough of your clothes on. If I end up with more I’m afraid that you might not get something back.”

    “Is that so?” The corners of his mouth quirked up in a devious smirk, hands coming to his own cup of coffee to lift to his lips, eyes peering just over the rim of his mug. “Well, I will have to take inventory of all articles of clothing before and after you leave.” Was he flirting with you?

    You hid behind your own cup of coffee, blushing. “What I mean is that it looks expensive and I could never afford some of the clothes you wear.” Even though you were pretty sure these ones were borrowed from the wardrobe department from the shoot.

    “Hm. Here I thought you were wanting a little memento from me.” He chuckled and you nearly choked on your coffee as you inhaled it a little too quick and it went down the wrong pipe. He was flirting, now, you decided as you tried not to die.

    “Hey, hey now…” His hand came to your back, patting you lightly to help you cough up the coffee. “Didn’t mean to make you choke! You okay?” He was finding far too much amusement in your predicament and you were caught between laughing with him and locking yourself back in the bathroom to wait for your clothes to finish drying.

    It took you a minute but you finally stopped coughing, your eyes burning and your pride non-existent. Pedro’s hand, however, was still on your back. He was no longer patting in efforts to help you but now his fingertips were stroking over the gentle curve of your spine, thumb pressing into the muscle just beneath your shoulder blades.

    “Sorry.” You croaked, voice scratchy from the coughing fit. “I wasn’t expecting to be called out so quickly. You certainly know my end game.” You hid your embarrassment with sass and you had to put the coffee down before you did any damage. Pedro’s hand stilled as you moved, but he didn’t stop touching you, not even as you leaned back again.

“You’re still cold. I can feel it through the shirt.” His arm slid across your shoulders as he tucked you closer to his side. You both sat in a stretch of silence as he waited for the silent permission of his touch. You realized he was stiff and not as at ease as you thought he would be. You rested your hand on his knee, fingertips curling against the red cotton of his pants as you leaned in against him, nose tucking against his side. You felt him relax then.

    “Thank you for this.” You whispered as you let your fingers trace his kneecap.

    “Of course. I couldn’t let a damsel stay in distress.” He let his other hand, now coffee less as he set his mug on a side table, come to yours on his knee, fingers lacing to hold your hand. “But I do have a confession to make, if I may…”

    “Hm?” You felt warm and cozy. You hadn’t quite expected that you were going to find yourself cuddling with this charming man today, but you weren’t going to complain either. The weather had taken a toll on you and you were quite ready for a nap. Pedro wasn’t helping either with the slow inhale and exhale of his breath that rocked you like a boat on a lake. Gentle and lovely.

    “I would very much like to kiss you.”

    He squeezed the hand on his knee before unlocking their hold and bringing his fingers to your chin, turning your face to his. He bumped your noses a moment, lips ghosting just over yours in a teasing breath.

    “May I?” He whispered. “Please, tell me what you want.”

        You shifted, your thighs rubbing together as you felt the curling heat span in your belly and you suddenly felt very, very hot. Pedro kept his gaze steady on yours, never once faltering as he waited for your consent. He was so close that you could smell the hint of coffee on his breath, the smell of the aftershave and cologne on his skin.

    “Please...yes, Pedro.” He tilted your chin a little higher, lips just touching. A mockery of a kiss as he smiled wickedly. “Please, kiss me.”

    He did then, his lips pressing firmly into yours as his hand slipped to cup your cheek. Neither of you moved for that moment, letting each other take in the press of your mouths until you let your hand slip a little higher, fingers tracing the seam of his pants on his inner leg and it broke the reserve he had. Pedro groaned low and he all but lifted you into his lap, your legs splaying on either sides of his hips.

    His mouth never left yours as he moved, his hands coming to grip the gentle curve of your hips, pulling you closer to him, yours breasts pushing steady against his chest. He groaned into your mouth as his hips rolled up and you felt the sudden hard length of him against your thigh.

    “Fuck -” You moaned out at the feel of him.    “I've wanted to do this since the moment I saw you, hermosa.” Pedro’s voice was husky against your skin as he moved his hands under your ass, fingers tight as he shifted your hips together, pushing his clothed cock up into your hand. “You lit up the room, you know. The moment you stepped foot into the light, I was taken away. Captured.”

    You couldn’t help but let your fingers curl around his length and give a gentle squeeze, testing the size of him and oh - oh, he was large beneath your fingertips. Pedro tipped his head against yours, lips ghosting along your nose.

    “Take off your clothes.” He breathed and you moved with him to pull your shirt over your head, his hands immediately coming to undo your bra and let your breasts hang free. His head dips to take a nipple in your mouth and you arch into the wet heat and you hiss when he sets his teeth against the sensitive skin.

    “Shit - Pedro. I need - “ You needed him out of his shirt, too. But it was hard to coerce him out of it when he was attached to you like he was. You pushed him away a little, trying to create space enough to get him out of his shirt, your fingers working at the buttons in a clumsy haste.

    “Bed.” Pedro grunts and you two move off of the couch, peeling from each other. You still kept your hands on him as he guided you to the bedroom and you both all but fell into the large bed. Pedro rolled to the side to flick on the bedside lamp to fill the room with a soft glow and the light highlighted the deep amber in his eyes. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

    “C’mere.” You motion to him as you lay back on the plush pillows, arms stretched out to take Pedro in. He comes above you and rests on his forearms as he slides a knee up between your legs, making them spread wide and he settles there, his hips rolling into the crux of your thighs.

    You arch up to meet him again and he presses a kiss against your mouth, licking you open. He tugs at your pants insistently and you lift your hips up to let him shimmy them over your soft curves and down your legs. You kick them off in a haste and Pedro pauses, lifting himself to lean back on his knees, staring down at you. You blush under his gaze because it's so heavy, so slow. You don’t remember any man, any person for that matter, who looked at you like that. It was so needy.

    “Eres tan hermosa. You are so beautiful.” He reaches out and drags his fingertips along the side of your face, down your neck and across your collarbone. He keeps going lower and lower, mapping your body out with his touch until he comes to touch your between your legs. His fingers tease your outer lips first, a gentle drag of his knuckles and then he moves in deeper, pressing a thumb against your clit and circling.

    You moaned as he pressed a little more firm to work you into your pleasure and the tip of a finger teased you open and curled. Gods, he was good at this. You clenched around him and he added a second finger, curling up to rub against the textured spot inside you.

    “Pedro.” You moaned out as he continued to work you and you felt your climax climb, your body taught with need. “Pedro, I’m - fuck, I’m close. Don’t stop. Don’t -”

    “Por favor, mi amor. Cum for me.”

    You did as he told you, your eyes closing and head tilting up to close out the world as you focused only on your orgasm. He continued to stroke you inside, his thumb continuously applying the delicious pressure on your clit and only eased up after your thighs stopped trembling, returning to a soft stroke.

    Pedro caught your gaze as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, slipping them against his tongue, sucking in, tasting your orgasm that he brought out of you. He left you breathless. You parted your legs again as an invitation and his gaze dropped to the movement. Pedro shimmied his pants off, tossing them over the side of the bed and you wanted very much to touch him but he instead fumbled with the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom.

    You watched as he rolled the condom on with an ease and he moved over you again, taking your hands in his, twining your fingers together. It was an intimate gesture and one you adored. Pedro seemed like he couldn’t get close enough to you, even as he pressed his flush skin against yours.

    He slid into you easily with how wet you were and he bottomed out in you almost immediately, stretching you full. Pedro lets out a groan, his head dropping to yours as he rocked into your cunt. He was so intimate in this, so incredibly loving, and to a person whom he only just met. You felt him love with his entire being and it was a gorgeous act that he gifted you.

    “I won’t last long, I’m afraid.” He grunts out between thrusts. You bring your legs up and around him, pulling him closer and his thrusts turn into a grind. You were still blissfully sensitive from your climax earlier and you were more than okay with his admission. He took care of you first, above his own pleasure. “Please, Pedro. It’s okay. Please, just...it’s good.” You didn’t know what to say in his softness but you knew it was the right thing because he ground into you harder, his hips snapping as he tightened his grip. His mouth dropped open in a silent moan as he came, his rhythm breaking into stillness.

        “You will have to forgive me.” Pedro breaks into a wide smile against your neck as he relaxes against you, his weight dropping like a blanket. “You are far too soft for any man to last long.” He pulls from you and glances down to take off the spent condom and set it in the trash that was next to the bed. He settled beside you, his head propped up on his hand, his other tracing along your stomach.

    “You flatter me far too much.” You giggle, smacking his hand away. It instead settles against your face, his thumb brushing under your eye.

    “Will you stay with me tonight?” He asked.

    The offer wasn’t one you were expecting. In all honesty, you didn’t really expect any of this, but perhaps you were naive when it came to what coffee dates entailed now, not that you were complaining.

    “Of course.”

    You didn’t think he could light up any more than he already was, but he did. His face became childlike and gleeful. He was adorable, really.

    “Fantastic. I’ll make sure we get some proper coffee in the morning. Promise.”

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 50,293

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 26:

(Words: 2,825)

The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color. 

All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.

From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.

Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain. 

As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them. 

But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself. 

Okay. 

Alright. 

No distractions. 

I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.

If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal. 

Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way. 

I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. 

I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them. 

And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again. 

Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two. 

Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too. 

While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.

“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”

MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat. 

“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.

She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”

“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.

“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”

“Convince?”

“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, so you thought you could just—”

“What kind did you get?” 

That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.

“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”

Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—

“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”

Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times. 

I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.

The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.

“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”

Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us. 

“Take however many you guys want.”

I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:

“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”

Flash looked away at just the right second. 

Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.

Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one. 

“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”

“Staying.”

“All of you?” 

He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents. 

“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing. 

Flash nodded. 

“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”

As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?

“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”

A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started. 

Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god. 

The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp. 

And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake. 

I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition. 

I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.

Next update: God only knows.

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[maddpopcorn]

It’s Okay || pjm

Pairing: Maine Coon!Hybrid!Jimin x Male!Reader

Request:  hiii can i request a jimin x male reader fic? maybe an angst/comfort hybrid au where jimin is a homeless hybrid who escaped from his abuser owner and is now trying to survive in the streets. the reader would find him and try to help him, but since jimin is scared and doesn’t trust humans, it’s a bit harder than he expected.. (i’d prefer a series but you can make it a one-shot or drabble or whatev boils your noodles lol) thank you in advance and have a nice day!

Summary: When walking down your normal road, you spy a long, fluffy tail. And when it connects to a bruised and bloodied up hybrid who immediately hisses at you, you find yourself trying everything in your power to bring him home….even if you have to suffer a couple of scratches along the way.

Warnings: Angst, lots of angst, burning of the skin with cigarettes, mentions of starving from neglect/punishment, punching, slight mentions blood and cleaning the wound, night terrors

A/N: Wow, you were my first request! I am so sorry it took long. However, I enjoyed writing this piece a lot so I hope you enjoy it, too! If people like this so much, perhaps I could make a second part (I already have one hybrid series I’m planning on making so it might be too much to make this into a series :)) Also, forgive me if there are any mistakes!

Jimin hates being a hybrid. No, scratch that. He despises it. He despises himself. Because of his nature, he’s immediately treated with little to no respect by most humans in society. He’s treated like he’s some type of scum on the bottom of their shoes.

Which isn’t true at all but who will ever listen to him, right? He is just a mangy good for nothing hybrid, after all.

He despises humans. After all of this time observing them, after experiencing them first hand, he has deemed them greedy, selfish and just evil.

They are all evil.

Without his permission, tears well up in his eyes, and he hastily wipes them away out of habit in fear of being caught. He blinks and then dryly chuckles, looking down at his burnt scars that dotted his arms. Who is going to burn their cigarettes into his now dry and cracked skin? Who is going to punch their frustrations out on him again?

No one, right?

He escaped them.

He escaped them.

.

Sighing in relief and with a smile, you wave bye to the last customer that walks out of the coffee shop. Immediately, your smile drops.

“Holy hell, today was busier than a fucking highway,” you groan, shoulders drooping dramatically. You let the broom slide in your hand until only the tips of your fingers are barely holding it up.

“Yeah, why do these people need all of this coffee on a Friday afternoon anyway?” Yoongi complains, dropping his head on the counter, his recently dyed mint hair covering his eyes. “It’s like they’re addicted or something. Damn.”

“Takes one to know one, Yoongles,” you tease, holding the broom properly again and resuming sweeping.

Huffing at your joke, he stretches, popping several bones in the process (that you may or may not be worried about).“Yeah but unlike them, I know my limits.”

“Hah, funniest joke of the year. Yeah, right, dude.”

He reels back like he has touched fire and gasps. “Wha-excuse me, mister but I know my limits.”

“No, you really don’t.” 

“Ye-”

“Yoongi-” you stop sweeping, putting your hand on your hip. “-you drank 5 cups of coffee in one sitting during exam week. And then, the next week, you kept chugging energy drinks like they were nothing so you could finish your ‘precious song’.” One by one, you start listing off all the times he has drank too much coffee and energy drinks. His body deflates with each jab at his pride until he’s crumbling in on himself.

It’s a hot minute before any of you say anything, quietly cleaning up the shop so that you could finally go home.

“Fuck off, pretty boy,” he finally says, middle finger in the air and face heating up. 

You bark out a laugh. “So you finally admit that I’m pretty, huh? Jin owes me $5.”

“You fucking-”

.

“Don’t forget, 8 o’clock tonight, my apartment. Don’t be late like last time, brat,” Yoongi scolds, adjusting his glasses. You throw your hands up, a cheeky smirk on your face.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You wave bye to your coworker as you exit the coffee shop. Humming to yourself, you begin your journey on your normal path to home. Mentally checking off your to-do list before you have to get ready for the annual hangout you and your friends have every week, you spot in the corner of your eye a fluffy, blonde blob. You turn your head, fully stopping and squinting.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, creeping up on the blob. It grows until it stops at a…

“Holy shit!” You yell, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth in disbelief.

A hybrid. A cat hybrid, to be specific, is laying on the dirty and wet ground of the alley way. His eyes are closed, and you timidly squat down near him to examine him. Matted blonde hair sticks to his face with what you can only assume is sweat and dirt which is also smudging across his face. His lips are forming a pout and he moves a bit, making you jump back in surprise. When he stays still after, you continue your examination. His skin looks dry and his cheeks are sunken in. Trailing your eyes down his form, you notice how worn and ragged his clothes truly are. And how big they look on him. Your eyebrows furrow at his state. Someone did a beating on this poor guy.

He whimpers in his sleep and without thinking, you do something stupid. Something incredibly stupid.

You reach your hand out towards him, to pet him or give him comfort, not really controlling your urges to get close. And that’s when you instantly regret it. His eyes snap open, and you yelp in pain as his claws swipe into your skin. Recoiling back, you immediately grasp your now bleeding arm, eyes glued to it. Three deep scratches litter your arm and blood starts to come to the surface.

Even if you’re the one that got scratched, you apologize.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, letting out a shuddering breath. “I should’ve given you your space. I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone!” He hisses, shuffling far away from you. Growling, his entire body shakes as flashes upon flashes come back to him. Pupils reducing to slits and ears flattening against his head, he swipes at you again, 

You mentally slap yourself in the face. Of course he would scratch you. You invaded his personal space and reminded him of his abusers. You scared him. You back up, giving the hybrid one last glance, guilt racking every bone in your body for scaring the hybrid before you walk away. 

He doesn’t meet your eyes.

-

You rush home, your makeshift bandage from the napkins in your pocket soaked in blood. He got you deep. But it wasn’t his fault. It was yours.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you repeat to yourself. “How could you be so fucking stupid?”

Someone holds the door open for you as you slide past them, muttering a quick thanks.

“Hi, Mrs. Hags. Bye, Mrs. Hags,” you yell out to the landlady, rushing past people into the elevator of your complex.

“Bye, dearie,” she calls out. “Odd fellow, he is. Isn’t that right, Mr. Whiskers?”

Her cat only yawns in response and she immediately coos, getting right back to her knitting.

Stomping your foot impatiently, you give an awkward smile to the other tenants present in the elevator. They smile back, weird looks on their faces as they realize you’re holding your bleeding arm and you silently wish that the elevator would hurry the hell up. Sighing in relief as the elevators dings, you squeeze through the opening doors.

“Odd fellow,” One whispers out.

“Yeah, very odd,” Another whispers back.

Fumbling with your keys to your door, you curse in frustration as you drop them. Picking them up, you unlock your door after what seemed like forever. Finally, practically throwing open your door, you race to your bathroom, not caring as your door slams behind you. Dropping everything, you quickly get the first aid kit out.

“Fuck,” you hiss in pain as the alcohol seeps into your wound. Tears fall from your eyes from the burning sensation. “Ah, I’m melting, I’m melting…fuck, I’m dumb.”

After 10 minutes of grueling pain, you look at your newly bandaged arm. That was so stupid of you. How could you just invade his space like that? As you focus on your arm, dumb thoughts running through your head, your phone rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. Fishing it out of your pocket, you groan again when you realize it’s Yoongi. You still had time to get there, two hours really, so why was he calling you?

“Hello?” 

“Y/N, wanted to let you know that Joon got the stomach bug so the hangout is cancelled. Hobi and I are taking care of him.”

You can hear groans of pain in the background and Hoseok teasing. “Quit being a baby, Joonie. It’s a mere stomach bug.”

“Feels like I’m dying, Hobi,” he groans dramatically.

“Sounds like you have a handful, Yoongles,” you chuckle, putting up the alcohol and first aid kit.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Okay, thanks for telling me. I hope Joon gets better. I have some stuff to do so I have to go.”

“Yeah, right. Bye, Y/N-Namjoon, did you just hit me with a pillow?”

You can hear Namjoon yelling “Cuddles, now!” before Yoongi hangs up, eliciting a belly laugh out of you. How Yoongi and Hoseok put up with their boyfriend, you have no clue but more power to them. Staring back at your arm, you nod as you come up with a plan to win the hybrid over. Or at least apologize to him. You roll up your other sleeve, making your way over to your kitchen. You’ve got work to do.

-

It’s a couple of hours later when Jimin finally retreats from his hidey hole to see a brown paper bag with a note attached to it. An amazing smell wafts through the air that makes his stomach growl in hunger. He slowly crawls forward, tail swishing in curiosity, and snatches the note from the bag.

I’m sorry about today. Please enjoy your dinner.

P.S, I hear Maine Coons like this fish, assuming you are one. Enjoy :)

-Y/N (The guy who is really sorry about invading your personal space)

He hisses in disgust, shifting backward from the paper bag. The note flies from his grasp and lands in a puddle, immediately getting soaked from the dirty water. What if you poisoned it? Or laced it with something? Are you working for…her? Are you going to take him back? It’s not like he’s never had the wonderful pleasure of starving before. She would make sure of that. He can deal with it. He has done it plenty of times, one more can’t hurt…right?

He sits there, just glaring holes at the bag as rain drops hit him, trying so hard to ignore everything. The smell, the wonderful smell. He clenches his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’ll break them as another sharp pain shoots through his stomach, accompanied by a familiar grumbling. He tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on something else. Perhaps the way his bones are shivering from the rain will do? No, that makes it worse. Makes him want whatever is in the bag even more. It seems warm. Warm enough to make him warm. He wants it. He needs it. So much.

Ignore it.

Ignore it.

Ignore. It.

But, a guy can only take so much.

The smell surrounding him in mockery and the nagging pain finally makes Jimin grab the bag, fishing out the food and digging in, without sparing it a second glance. He’ll worry about the consequences later.

He almost moans from the taste he thought he had forgotten long ago. The fish is still warm, kept in a container that keeps the temperature insulated and whatever soup you got (or made, he can care less) goes perfectly with it.

In a matter of minutes, the fish is finished, and Jimin is gulping down the remaining soup. He pulls back, licking his lips and sighs in satisfaction. His stomach is warm from the soup. He’s not shivering that much from the rain anymore. He actually feels…cozy and it’s incredibly weird to him. Something foreign almost. He places the bowl back into the bag and crawls back into his hiding place. Curling up, yawning, he thinks of you and quietly mumbles a thank you before falling fast asleep.

-

It is a couple of days later when you return, bandage wrapped around your arm. Jimin growls in annoyance and begrudgingly relief. You seem..okay from his scratch.

Stupid human can’t follow a stupid task.

“I come bearing a peace offering,” you smile, holding out two bags.

Jimin’s eyes study the bags and then trail up your hand and to your arm. Annoyingly, in his opinion, guilt racks up. You notice his eyes glued to your arm and you wave your hand.

“Don’t worry about. My friend Jin said it would be fine.”

You lock eyes for a mere second before he’s immediately spitting back, “Like I care.”

He averts his eyes, letting out a loud huff. You sit down, slowly sliding one bag towards him. He views the action from the corner of his eyes. What are you doing? He turns his head just a bit to get a better view and his eyes widen.

“What are you doing?” he practically screeches as you pull out your lunch for the day.

“Taking my lunch break. What else?” you tease, waving the take out container in your hand. “Would you care to join me?”

“No.”

You shrug your shoulders and open your container. “Suit yourself, buddy.”

You begin eating and Jimin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and looking away. Again, he repeats the same mantra from last time.

Ignore it.

His stomach rumbles and if you heard it, you make no move to comment and instead, continue to happily eat. 

“Wow, this chicken is to die for. Compliments to the chef,” you groan, giving a chef’s kiss. “Sure you don’t want any?”

He knows what your game is. You’re just trying to rile him up to eat the food so that you can do whatever you want with him. No, not this time. It won’t work. After you leave, he’ll throw the food away. He is sure of it.

“I am positive I don’t want your shitty food,” he snaps.

You wince, putting a hand to your chest. “Ouch buddy, that hurt.”

“Not your fucking buddy either,” he growls in annoyance.

“Just slash at my feelings, why don’t yah?”

“Gladly.”

That is his last and final word. You finish your lunch, taking one glance at the hybrid and leave. Jimin sits there and makes a move to throw out the food. He hesitantly reaches out but backs away. His eyebrows furrow at his dilemma. On one hand, should he waste food like that? That would be wrong of him. On another, did you poison the food this time? Can he really trust that you didn’t?

He lasts a total of five minutes before he’s digging into the food. Maybe, just maybe, you’re a decent human. Just maybe.

-

It takes you weeks to earn the still nameless hybrid’s trust. Even then, it was only a small amount. At least you could sit closer together and talk about random things. That’s why it surprises you when he meekly asks if he can go with you this time.

You widen your eyes at his request. “What?” 

“When you leave, can I go with you? Y/N, please?” His ears are flattened against his head and his tail is curled around his waist.

“I don’t even know your name-”

“Jimin. It’s um, Jimin.” He blurts out. He clears his throat, face flushed, eyes looking at every thing but you.

“Jimin…” you whisper, the name so foreign on your tongue. “Pretty name. What made you want to come with me?”

“I…” he didn’t expect that question. “I don’t know. You just seem…comforting, I guess? I don’t know, it was stupid. I’m sorry-”

You cut him off. “Shh, it’s not stupid. I’m glad that I seem comforting to you. My answer is yes, you can come home with me.”

His eyes widen and it’s the first time you have ever seen him smile that wide before. You hope you’ll see that smile even more in the future.

-

“And this is your room!” You gesture with your arm. “I had to quickly clean it since I honestly didn’t think you would come with me so forgive me if it’s still a bit dusty.” You walk in but he doesn’t follow. You turn around towards him, cocking your head. “Jimin?”

Jimin can’t say anything. This is all for him? But, he didn’t do anything to deserve it. He didn’t please you. He didn’t let you use him as a personal punching bag for your frustrations. This is a trick. It has to be. No one is this kind to a stranger, especially a hybrid. A hybrid who hurt you. For fuck’s sake, he scratched you. Yeah, he wanted to come home with you and yeah, he did say you were comforting but he expected that you would make him share the same room or something. He didn’t know what to expect. Just not this.

“Jimin?” Your soothing voice lures him out of his mess he calls his thoughts.

“I-I can’t accept this room, Y/N.”

You must’ve pulled a face or something because Jimin is immediately tense, ready to dash right back out on to the streets.

“Why?” is the only thing you ask.

“What?”

“Why can’t you accept the room?”

He wraps his arms around himself, his tail joining them. “Never had this before. This much kindness thrown at me. Expected to..pay you in return.”

“It’s yours now, Jimin. No payment needed.”

“Why are you so kind to me?”

His question throws you off-guard and it takes you a minute to answer. You brush the lint off of his comforter. “Because you deserve it. I can only assume you’ve been through hell and back. Why not live the rest of your life peacefully?”

“Thank you.”

With that, you smile and leave him be in his new room. A couple of hours later, he joins you for dinner. Whatever you made smells heavenly. Quietly sitting down, he watches as you put the pot on the table in between you two. The bowls are already set and you serve him first before serving yourself. He mutters a “thank you”.

“Dig in, Jimin. I hope you’ll like it. New recipe I’m trying out,” you hum, taking a spoon full of the stew and blowing on it. He waits until you take a bite first. You smile in satisfaction as the spicy fish stew came out perfectly. Just the right amount of spice. He should’ve known better, really. You never wanted to hurt him in the first place but old habits die hard and he finds himself gauging your reaction to the food. You didn’t trick him before, you didn’t poison him at all, so why should this meal be different? Maybe it’s because he’s on your turf now. He waits and when he deems the food is safe enough to eat since you aren’t spasming out of control from poison or getting sleepy from a sedative, he digs in.

Wow.

You’re an amazing cook.

It doesn’t take Jimin even 5 minutes to finish his bowl and your heart aches just a little at the mere thought of him being hungry ever again. 

“Must’ve been good?” You tease light-heartedly. Jimin nods, licking his lips clean. “Want a second bowl?”

His eyes widen at the aspect and you only take his bowl to fill it up again. Jimin wastes no time finishing the second one. He feels all warm, fuzzy even and he looks down at his stomach in confusion. This is a familiar feeling. A feeling he had on the day you two met. It takes him a good solid minute, weighing the pros and cons of asking you if you had made that soup. Would you think it was weird if he told you he had remembered the fuzzy feeling? Would you think it was weird if he told you that that was the only time he had ever felt close to home? Finally, he concludes that either way, he needs to know because he cannot stand the stupid curiosity that’s nagging him.

“I..I have a question,” Jimin mumbles.

You nod, gulping down the remaining water from your cup. “Shoot.”

He looks around the room as he hesitantly asks, “Did, did you..you know, that soup..”

“Soup? What soup?”

“You know, that soup.”

“I’m not following, Jiminie?”

His face heats up at your nickname for him but you don’t seem to realize that you even said it in the first place. He finally blurts out, “The one that you gave me the first time we met! Did you cook it?”

“Oh.” 

“I just,” he continues. “It was the only time I ever felt..I don’t know. Nevermind- it’s stupid.”

“Yes.”

“What?” Did you actually think it was-

“Yes, I made it. I wanted you to have a homemade meal. And I was apologizing to you so I thought it would be a bit more..special I guess.”

“Thank you..”

You both clean the dishes, wash up and head to bed. Jimin is finally alone to just process everything. This could be a home for him. He lays down, relishing in the softness of the bed. He wraps himself with the comforter. It smells so nice and it feels so warm and so..homey. Yawning, he doesn’t notice the smile creeping up on his face as he closes his eyes, sleep taking over.

-

A couple of weeks have passed and having Jimin around is such a delight. Not having to come home to an empty apartment feels so much better. He helps you clean, he accompanies you when you’re watching something on the tv. He lets you ramble about your day at the coffee shop. It takes Jimin a while to grow used to being here. And not everything is so pleasant. Countless of times, Jimin has woken up from night terrors, from flashbacks of that place. And this time isn’t any different.

It’s around 4 in the morning when Jimin wakes up, his eyes flying open from the nightmare. Gasping for air, he looks around. Everything seems so hazy, so dark. All he can remember is him screaming for you.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. You’re not going to give him away, right? Right?

You weren’t anywhere in sight and he could feel himself panicking. He rapidly jumps up, trying to find the light switch or the curtains or something to give light. To give him hope that you hadn’t sneakily sold him back to her. He trips over something and reaches out his hand, grasping a cloth and pulling it down with him. Moon light floods the room and he curls up, sobbing and shaking. His heart is racing and he silently begs for you to appear.

You jolt awake at the loud “thunk” coming from somewhere in your apartment. You jump up, grabbing your baseball bat and tip toe out of your room. Hearing whimpers from Jimin’s room, you drop the bat and rush in.

“Jimin, oh my god, are you okay?” you ask alarmed, freeing him. He’s shaking all over, eyes closed and arms wrapped around himself.

“Please tell me I’m not there again. I don’t wanna go back. Please, please please..” He repeatedly mumbles. “I’m a good boy. I’ll be a better boy, I promise. Please, just don’t take me there.”

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, rocking him back and forth. “I promise on everything holy that I will never leave you. I will never let you go back there, Jimin.”

He sobs into your shoulder, gripping tightly at your t-shirt. His tail wraps around you, and you stroke his head.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re here, you’re home. It’s okay, you’re safe. I promise,” you whisper. After a long time, Jimin grounds himself and he pulls back to see you, worry filling your eyes and tears at the brim of them.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, diving right back into your arms. You only rub his back in soothing motions.

That was the first night ever that he had asked you to stay in his room.

-

The next morning while you’re making a delicious breakfast for the both of you, he stalks into the kitchen. You hum a little at his presence, asking him if he is okay. He hums in agreement and stares at you. You, already used to him just staring at you, studying your movements, continue cooking. He walks up behind you, ears pinned back, arms opening up.

He back hugs you.

You’re startled for a moment and it makes him hesitate to tighten his grip but when you don’t move away, just slightly humming as you continue to cook, he smiles, ever so slightly, tautening his hold.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he murmurs into your back, so quietly that you have a hard time hearing him. But you hear him. He buries his head into your back, inhaling your comforting scent. “Thank you.”

That’s when you realize that the future for the both of you would be much brighter from here on.

[theinkyisles]

take a break (i know a place where we can stay)

word count: 6553 warnings: alcohol, implied major character death, violence, blood ao3 link author’s notes: thank you to the aphverse discord server and aphblr for hyping me up!! thank you especially to bee (for the wonderful podcast), krow (for you absolutely delightful responses to the sneak peeks) and cyrus (for your cheering on and equally delightful comments to the sneak peeks <33) description: the four to five times that laurance tried to convince garroth to take a break and the two times he succeeded.

“Garroth, I swear to Irene that you are one of the most boring people alive.” Garroth rolled his eyes, keeping his attention on sharpening his sword. Laurance was leaning against the doorway to his quarters, his arms and expression crossed.

“Just because I prioritize the protection of the village over games doesn’t mean that I’m boring, Laurance, it means that I’m the head guard,” the blond replied. Laurance scoffed and lifted himself from off the doorway, making his way to sit next to his friend.

“At the academy, what did you do on your days off?” Garroth looked at Laurance questioningly, unsure where the conversation was going. Laurance motioned for him to answer.

“I don’t really remember,” he started, before pursing his lips. “I suppose I would just train for the next day, so that I wouldn’t get sloppy.” He turned back down to his sword and picked up a rag beside him to begin polishing. He saw Laurance shaking his head in the corner of his eye.

“What about as a kid? Before you left for the academy.” Garroth chuckled and shook his head.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Laurance, and it’s not going to work.” Laurance raised his eyebrows and turned to better face the head guard.

“Really? What am I trying to do? Please, enlighten me,” he said mockingly. Garroth sighed, set his sword down, and looked Laurance in the eye.

“You’re trying to get me to admit to a time when I took time off and how much better off I was for it,” he said wryly. “And it’s not going to work because I think we have established that having Garte as a father did not endear me to getting ‘breaks’.” Laurance stared at him, eyes wide in shock. The room was silent. Garroth sighed again and leaned back, using his hands to brace himself against the wooden bench. “You can set up this game night, if you’d like, but I will remain on patrol. It would be remiss of me not to.”

“What, so the rest of us get a break, but you have to be all holier-than-thou and self-sacrificing? Bullshit!” Garroth spluttered, turning slightly red in the face.

“Watch your language,” he whispered hysterically, “you can’t speak like that so loudly!” Laurance rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please, you prudish princess, no lady is going to faint because she heard me swear.” Garroth stammered for a response, but Laurance cut him off. “You need to take a break. If you pass out from working too hard, the Lady will not hesitate to kill me, you know that.” Garroth’s face turned an even brighter shade of red, and he looked away to the opposite side of the room.

“The Lady would do no such thing to you, we both know that.” He heard Laurance scoff.

“Please, we all know how fond of you she is. ‘Second-in-command’, aren’t you?”

“The Lady is plenty fond of you as well, Laurance,” Garroth shot back, a hint of irritability in his voice. Laurance gave him a deadpan look.

“She’s not in love with either of us, we know this,” Laurance said bitterly. Garroth scrunched his nose and then let himself rest his elbows against his knees. He kept staring at the floor.

“I am well aware.”

Minutes passed between them, Garroth leaning forward and Laurance resting his head against the wall behind the bench. It was so odd, being in love with the same woman as his best friend. They both knew she didn’t love them, but it didn’t stop them from pining piteously and squabbling like hormonal teenagers. Nevertheless, it allowed him to have a deeper understanding of Laurance’s character. There was something beating in both their chests; only the two of them really knew what it was and could truly comprehend the adrenaline rush and agonizing insecurities that came of it.

For all the pain that came with being in love with the same woman as his best friend, there was an awful lot of reward.

“I wasn’t kidding,” Laurance said, his soft voice breaking the silence.

“About?”

“The whole game night thing.”

“Oh.” Garroth exhaled harshly and sat up straight. He picked up his sword, which was laying length-side beside him on the bench. He grabbed his rag off the floor where he dropped it and got back to polishing the grimy blade. Laurance scoffed and Garroth heard his friend’s head thump against the wall in frustration.

“This is your passive-aggressive way of telling me that you’re not gonna join, isn’t it?”

“You know me so well.”

-

The winter days were short, but the nights lasted an eternity. Being by the water endeared the village of Phoenix Drop to hazardous cold weather and dreaded slush that seeped through even the thickest of fur-lined leather boots. Moving around in chilled chainmail was the worst of it all, ice growing quickly in the crevices of the armor, despite how often the patrol would slip inside the guard tower to soak up the heat of the fire. Assassins and spies and thieves came in more frequently in the winter, the snow and cloud cover giving them the perfect camouflage. Barely a day went by without the jail cells being filled to the brink. Most nights, the small unit of guards in the tiny village ended their days at the make-shift tavern in the plaza, warming their frozen hands by the fire and their shivering social lives with a pint. Laurance joined them, more often than not, reminiscing in his mind of the times in Meteli where Ulrich and Glenda would join him in drunken song as they stumbled home. On one notable occasion, Sasha had joined them after a long day and he woke up the next morning, a white hyacinth on his nightstand and warm, empty sheets beside him.

Garroth never stepped foot inside the tavern, other than to drag Dale out by his hair. The other guards complained of how much of a hard-ass he was to them and Laurance was inclined to agree. He pushed the guards to rigorous training levels, often forcing them to come in on their days off. Patrols went on longer and they went out farther and the guards were gone for hours in the cold without a fire to heat their skin and bones. It was practically inhumane, to the point that Laurance humorously wondered who really was the Shadow Knight between the two of them.

Though he never voiced it to the other guards, he understood Garroth’s twisted reasoning. The winter season was a stressful time for a head guard, as Laurance had come to learn during his time in Meteli. People needed feeding so you had to watch for thieves stealing from stores and occasional shipment of goods. People couldn’t be fed without a lord to delegate the storage and rations, so you had to keep a strict eye on potential assassins. Not to mention that the weather was draining on anyone’s morale and sometimes it felt like drowning yourself in patrol and training was the only way to get through to the break of sun through the clouds. He watched as Garroth sulked off after training, observed as he marched across the village during patrol, noted when he caught another criminal and tossed them into one of the few jail cells they had.

It was disgustingly depressing and Laurance wasn’t going to let this go on for any longer.

“Guards, I have scheduled another training session for tomorrow,” Garroth announced after the day patrol had returned. “Be here before sunrise or I will come knocking at your doors and I doubt your wives and children will be too pleased about that.” A loud groan came from Brian, and Dale threw his helm halfheartedly in Garroth’s direction. It hit the ground with a clunk and Laurance could feel Garroth staring at it disapprovingly, even if he couldn’t see his eyes through the helm. Even Dante, who sported the optimism and drive common in young guards, smacked his head gently against the stone wall of the guards’ meeting place. “You all are dismissed.”

Laurance watched as Garroth turned on his toes and walked his way out of the room, his steel-toed boots clunking against the ground. “Lauraaaance,” Dante whined, his voice muffled by his face being smushed into the wall. “Can’t you talk some sense into him? These extra sessions are driving me nuts.” Dale threw his hand up in agreement, pointing it in Dante’s direction.

“I’ve barely seen my wife and daughter this week!” Dale added. Brian nodded; his eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion. “Brian and I have been just passing out at home and then His Majesty just busts down the door as if we don’t need to sleep!” Laurance pursed his lips, looking at the direction Garroth stalked off in.

“I’ll talk to him,” he said finally, “we’re probably not the only ones sick and tired of this.”

-

“Alright, asshole, spit it out, what’s going on with you?” Garroth barely jumped as the door slamming open against the stone, but his shoulders tensed at the swear. His helm covered his face and neck, but Laurance could only imagine how red in the face his friend was.

“Laurance, by Irene, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, you can’t say those things so loudly!” Laurance tossed his head back in frustration, groaning dramatically.

“Garroth, you’re a boring princess from O’khasis, let me live a little.” Garroth shook his head, still obviously flustered. Laurance marched across the room, throwing himself onto Garroth’s bed.

“You are going to fix those sheets when you get up or I’m going to lock you out tonight,” Garroth said, pointedly not looking in Laurance’s direction.

“I’d probably do it wrong, anyways, Mr. I-Had-Servants-To-Do-My-Chores.” Garroth made a face and opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Oh, be quiet,” Garroth grumbled.

“I don’t think I will, actually,” Garroth spared a glance to where Laurance was sitting on his bed, probably rolling his eyes beneath his helm at the Cheshire grin spread across his friend’s face.

“What are you even here for? I thought you liked to go down to the tavern after patrols.” Laurance laid down on the bed, kicking his feet up onto the footboard. “Don’t you dare get dirt on those sheets.”

“Piss off, Garroth, I have a sister, I know better than that.” He clasped his hands beneath his head, supporting his neck, and shuffled to get comfy on the stiff, hay mattress. “And to answer your question, I am on a mission.”

“A mission,” Garroth said flatly.

“Yes, a mission.” Laurance heard Garroth sigh, and smiled slightly to himself.

“And what would that mission be?” Garroth droned, only barely playing along to Laurance’s scheming.

“My mission,” Laurance stated proudly, “is to get you, sir I-perpetually-have-a-stick-up-my-ass, to give the rest of us a break.”

“What.” Laurance snickered, pulled a hand out from beneath his head, holding it up in a “don’t look at me” fashion. He could practically feel Garroth's glare grow stronger.

“The guards are tired. I’m tired. These extra training sessions are killing us.” Laurance turned onto his side, keeping one arm tucked under his head. “I get that the winter is hard, Garroth,” his voice becoming softer, “but you can’t have guards and work them to death too.”

The room fell silent. It hit Laurance that Garroth was still dressed head-to-toe in armor, as if he was about to go on another patrol, despite Dante having just head out for one himself. His sword shone brightly at his side, but his friend was hunched over the small dresser he had in his quarters, clutching at the end of the wood. His hands trembled, shaking the dresser with it with a gentle clink-clink against the uneven floor.

“Garroth?”

“How long were you head guard at Meteli?” Laurance blinked, unprepared for the question. He sat up slowly, letting his feet fall from the footboard onto the ground.

“I- I’m not sure, to be honest,” he started.

“What’s your best guess?”

“Maybe…three, four years? I was sixteen when I graduated from the training academy, so I would’ve been twenty when I took over as head guard. My dad-” Laurance’s voice caught in his throat and tears burned at the corner of his eyes. Garroth shifted slightly to glance at him, but Laurance ducked his head down. “The lord of Meteli died six months before I met the Lady.” Laurance swallowed hard, breathing in deeply to get rid of the lump in his throat. “It’s hard, when feelings get involved.” Laurance said, his voice solemn. A beat passed and he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Doesn’t give you a pass to beat your guards down to the point where you don’t have any left.”

“You still don’t understand,” Garroth said quietly.

“Try me,” Laurance shot back.

“In Meteli,” he started, “you had a wide array of guards underneath your command, correct?”

“Yes, I did.” Laurance wiggled further back along the bed, letting his body lean against the wall the bed was pushed up against. “Where is this going?”

“You had several well-trained guards at your beckon and call, many older than you and with more experience,” Garroth continued, acting as if he hadn’t heard Laurance’s question, his voice getting louder with each word. “Meaning that you didn’t have to worry about a father and son with zero technique with a baby girl and a wife and mother at home!” Laurance’s eyes blinked in surprise and he sat up on the bed. “It means that you didn’t have to deal with the fact that if a sixteen-year-old dies on your watch, you will have to hunt down his family and tell them about how it is your fault he died!”

“Garroth, wait-”

“You don’t have-” Garroth choked on his own words, forcing himself to swallow. “You weren’t here when she first arrived,” he whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. “If she dies, that’s it for Phoenix Drop. That’s it for the entire region. We have no more second chances.” Laurance could see the barely suppressed sobs shaking Garroth’s body.

He got up from the bed and gently put his hands on Garroth’s shoulder. If even possible, he felt his friend tense even further beneath his hands, but he applied a bit of pressure against the shoulder plates and Garroth forced his shoulders to drop. Laurance reached underneath the shoulder plates, undoing the leather straps he knew were hidden beneath the cape that denoted Garroth’s position as head guard. The two plates were swiftly thrown to the floor, clanking as they hit the stone. As soon as the cloak fluttered to the ground, some amount of tension released from Garroth’s shoulder. Slowly, Laurance went for the buckles for the chainmail sleeves and armor they all wore beneath their tunics. It slid to the ground, and when Garroth seemed to make a move to pick it up, Laurance gave him a kick behind the knees. “Don’t move, this is hard enough as it is.” His friend didn’t say anything back.

Soon the belt and scabbard were also on the floor and the diamond sword was in its proper rack. At this point, Garroth was like a rag doll, held up only by leaning against the dresser, his hands struggling to keep their grip against the wood. Laurance gently lifted the helm from his friend’s head, setting it on the top of the dresser. He pressed gently against Garroth’s side and his friend all but collapsed into him. They stumbled over to the bed a few paces away and Laurance lay Garroth down, making sure his head hit the pillow.

As soon as Garroth seemed comfortable, Laurance sunk down to the ground, sitting so that his side was pressed up against the bed frame and he was facing the head of the bed.

“You need a break,” he whispered, grabbing onto his friend’s hand. “We all need a break.” Garroth nodded and turned his head towards the wall, closing his eyes and exhaling. Laurance watched as his friend’s breathing evened out, and, content that Garroth wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon, rested his head against the edge of the mattress frame. He could barely think a thought before he was fast asleep, clutching his friend’s hand and curled up on the stone floor.

When he woke up, maybe an hour later, he was laying on top of a cold bed in room suspiciously devoid of armor and a certain diamond sword and shield.

“Damnit, Garroth.”

-

“Laurance!” said guard turned to look over his shoulder at his name being called to find his lord waving at him as she walked down the road he was patrolling. “What are you doing this lovely spring day? Isn’t Garroth giving you guys a day off for today? It is so nice down by the docks,” she said excitedly. Laurance smiled.

“I volunteered to patrol for part of the day but I’m taking a break after I walk around for a bit more, if you’d like to walk with me till then?” Laurance offered out his hand and Aphmau giggled, her cheeks turning red. His heart beat a bit faster as Aphmau looped her arm around his. They walked down the side street of the small village, his Lady in one arm and his sword in the other. “How is your day going, milady?”

“Levin and Malachi have been getting along really well, so I took them both down to visit the docks for a bit! Levin is used to being inside all day, but after centuries of being inside a castle, Malachi is a bit of a restless spirit.” She paused for a moment, before laughing. “Accidental pun!” Laurance chuckled.

“I’m glad that he’s adjusting well to Phoenix Drop. Can’t be easy being him,” Laurance murmured and Aphmau nodded in agreement.

“How’s Garroth doing?” she asked casually and Laurance’s heart drooped for a moment at the attention being drawn to his romantic rival and friend. He shook his head internally, forcing himself to not think about it. That would be saved for when he didn’t have the love of his life right in front of him.

“He’s fine,” he said cautiously, “I think he’s glad for winter to be over.” Aphmau furrowed her brow, looking up at Laurance in confusion.

“Oh? Why’s that?” Laurance quirked his lips questioningly. He would’ve thought that as lord, she would have known the trouble the head guard went through during the winter, especially since half of it was making sure that she didn’t die midway through the season.

“Well, guard heads usually have to increase security because of an increased threat of thieves sneaking in,” he explained. Aphmau made a little ‘oh’ in understanding and he took it as his cue to keep talking. “Not to mention, it’s much harder to keep our little lord alive with all of those assassinations attempt coming from O’khasis.”

“What?!” she exclaimed. “What assassination attempts?”

“The ones you aren’t supposed to know about, milady,” said a voice coming from behind them. The pair turned around to find Garroth, without his helm. “But Laurance has never been keen on keeping his mouth shut when he needs to.”

“Oy,” Laurance laughed, “not all of us can be the oh so perfect Sir Garroth.” Garroth rolled his eyes, his cheeks lighting up only the slightest bit red.

“Laurance was telling me about all the stuff you had to do during the winter, since you’re the head guard,” Aphmau said, before turning on Garroth with a pout. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so stressed? I would’ve done something to help out.” At his expression, it almost looked as if her words had physically hit Garroth in the chest and Laurance had to keep from laughing at Garroth’s incessant stammering.

“W-well, I just didn’t want to bother you, my Lady.” Aphmau pouted even further and red started creeping up Garroth’s neck. “Besides, I kept everything fairly well-balanced, it wasn’t that difficult of a winter.”

“Bullshit!” Laurance sang out, a cheeky grin making its way onto his face at Garroth’s suddenly straining smile and betrayed look in his eyes. “I tried to get him to take a break so many times, but someone has issues.”

“Laurance,” Garroth said warningly. Laurance sheathed his sword and held his hand up in a defensive motion.

“I just speak the truth,” Laurance said, a mock-innocent tone in his voice. He turned to Aphmau stage-whispering, “I even tried to start a weekly game night at the guard tower, but he completely shut me down!” Aphmau gasped.

“Oh, a game night! That would be so fun, wouldn’t it, Garroth?” she asked, clutching tighter onto Laurance’s arm as she bounced on her toes. “I could build you guys an extra space at the tower so you could play! I’m sure there are some board games we could ask Logan to order and I’m sure KC could get snacks-” she stopped, squinting slightly before looking up at the two men. “I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?” Laurance laughed.

“Just a bit, Aph,” he said, his voice slightly apologetic. “But…now that you’re on board with my idea, I’m sure you could convince Garroth to allow it, right?” He made eye contact with Garroth over the top of Aph’s head, trying not to chuckle when his friend made several non-discreet ‘cut it out’ gestures.

Aph spun on her toes to face Garroth, letting go of Laurance’s arm to grab onto Garroth’s free hand. “Gar, it would be so cool if you guys would have a game night. You could be…” she gasped dramatically, “game knights! Like with a ‘K’!” She giggled and peered up at him through her eyelashes. Laurance crossed his arm and smirked as Garroth visibly melted beneath her gaze. “Please, Gar? For me?”

“A-ah, well, it would take sig-significant planning, I would think,” Garroth stammered, desperately trying to avert his eyes. Something caught his attention and Laurance quirked his head to the side, trying to figure out what he was looking at. “Besides,” he began slowly, a sly smirk spreading across his face, “didn’t Laurance promise to help Cadenza show off some of her new clothes? Wouldn’t you want to help out with that?” Laurance’s eyes widened and he followed Garroth’s gaze to where his sister was loading some new ridiculous new dresses into the glass display cases. Aphmau gasped.

“Oh my gosh, you’re right!” Aphmau exclaimed. “Laurance, you are gonna look so pretty in that green dress over there. Cadenza!” She grabbed Laurance’s arm, dragging him down the street to his sister’s shop.

“Wh- wait! Hey!” He tripped over his cloak, completely caught off guard by the sudden shift in attention. Behind him, he could hear his friend chucking quietly. “Oh, fuck you, Garroth!” he shouted, throwing up his middle finger. “I’ll get you to take a break one of these days!”

-

“Garroth!” he shouted. Through the rain and mud and clamor, he managed to get his friend’s attention. “Garroth, where have you been, it’s been hours-” Garroth stumbled forward and Laurance reached out to grab him. Garroth stabilized himself against Laurance’s bracers, but his feet were still unsteady beneath him and Laurance could feel his friend swaying slightly. “Are you okay?” Garroth only clenched his eyes shut, panting heavily before spitting out saliva and what looked like a tooth onto the blood-stained ground. His grip on Laurance’s bracers tightened and he pitched forward slightly. “Okay, it’s alright, Gar, I’ve got you.” Laurance scanned the horizon, all too aware of the incoming soldiers and his friend’s uneven breathing against his chest. “We’re gonna get you help.”

He and Garroth stumbled behind an old, abandoned shop and Laurance pressed them both against the wall, watching with anxious eyes as the guards of the city passed by them, some general shouting orders over the stomping of feet against the cobblestone ground. As soon as the path was clear, he pulled them further down the alley into the shadows. He carefully laid Garroth against the wall and he winced as his friend spasmed in pain. “I didn’t expect there to be guards so far in the forest,” Garroth groaned, rolling his head back as he clenched his fists. “The patrol never went out that far when I lived here.”

“They probably expanded their routes to try and spot incoming armies after we announced the new alliance,” Laurance hypothesized, making quick work of Garroth’s armor in an attempt to find where the bleeding seeping through his friend’s tunic was coming from. “It makes sense. I should’ve stayed with you, I should’ve seen this coming.” Garroth started shaking his head before Laurance finished speaking.

“No- gah, be careful, would you?”

“Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t have stayed with me, Laurance,” Garroth continued, his voice getting breathy as Laurance started prodding around the edges of the, admittedly, gruesome wound. He had to find Garroth someone with healing magicks for this to heal and quick. Where he would find someone with healing magicks willing to help them was another story. “There were so many of them, you would’ve been kil-“ his voice spun off into a low groan, tears slipping down his dirt-stained cheeks. Laurance tightened the cloth he ripped from the bottom of his jacket around the wound and pulled out some thin cloth bandages he had the foresight to shove into his pocket on the way out of their camp where Garroth had stayed.

“I’m sorry,” Laurance whispered. Garroth reached out to grab the side of Laurance’s face and pull him down so their foreheads were touching.

“You’re doing the best you can,” Garroth said. “You’re a good friend and a good guard, Laurance.” The ginger chuckled, his voice slightly hysterical as he pulled away and shoved bandages beneath the tightened cloth to try and staunch the bleeding.

“You’re being oddly sentimental, Gar,” Laurance commented as he tried to try the chainmail back to the shoulder plates. “You’re not allowed to be sentimental right now, we’ve gotta get you back to-” Garroth tightened his grip on his friend’s face, forcing Laurance to look him in the eye. The expression of sheer determination and acceptance scared Laurance. Garroth looked like a man who had seen his own death foretold before him and was ready for it.

Laurance wasn’t ready for Garroth to die.

“The wound is too great, Laurance, we both know that,” Garroth panted. “I’ll die of blood loss before we even make it to the city limits, with all the guards out there.” He adjusted his grip on Laurance’s face, straining to pull his other arm up to hold his friend’s face between both hands. “You will replace me as head guard, alright? You will-” Laurance tried to pull away but Garroth kept him there. “You will protect Lady Aphmau and you will love her in honor of me.” Laurance kept trying to shake his head, tears burning the corners of his eyes.

“You will not die, Garroth, not now,” Laurance said, his voice cracking. Garroth smiled sadly and his thumb chased over the swell of his friend’s cheek. “You can’t die, please.” The determination in Garroth’s eyes became cloudy and the grip on Laurance’s face faltered. The sound of marching came ‘round the corner and Garroth’s eyes fluttered shut, his breath stuttering and uneven.

“You there! You and Garroth Ro’maeve are under arrest for treason! Surrender immediately or face death!” a guard shouted from behind them.

The outskirts of Laurance’s vision pulsed with red, in time with the beating of Garroth’s slowing heart. The voice of the guard came closer and the sharp sound of a sword being pulled from its scabbard matched the shutting of his best friend’s eyes, for what might be the last time. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, clouding his vision as the world all of a sudden became crystal clear. The red crept closer and closer, seeping into his eyes as time seemed to slow around him. His veins glowed scarlet as his brightened eyes cast an eerie shadow against his friend’s bloody face. He grabbed his sword from beside him and the world’s clock rushed to match his speed as he spun around on his knees just in time for the other guard’s sword to meet his own.

“You will pay.”

-

They almost hadn’t made it in time.

Laurance remembers running through the village gates, Dante right on his heel, demanding to know what had happened. He burst into the old farm house, shouting at everyone and anyone who was in hearing distance to get Kiki and a doctor. Dante and Brian had to drag him kicking and screaming away from Garroth’s body so that their friends could actually help Garroth.

It wasn’t his best moment, he’ll admit.

That had been three days ago. Kiki, while not versed in the practice of healing magicks, had a healing touch of her own and Garroth seemed to be pulling through. He refused to wake up though, meaning that for three days, Laurance had been sleeping on the floor of the old farm house, ears straining to hear the steady in-and-out of his friend’s breathing. Aphmau had come to visit, a stack of board games in her arms. He almost threw her out at the sight of the games, the thought that he came so close to never being able to teach Garroth how to play a child’s game making him sick to his stomach.

She seemed so less distraught over Garroth’s potential death than he was and for a split second, he wondered if she even cared about them, or if they were just pawns to her.

He shook his head, as if trying to physically remove the thoughts from his brain. She just hadn’t been there when the guards found them. She was removed from the situation; it didn’t mean she cared any less about Garroth.

Laurance had his back to the side of the bed, leaning against the wooden frame. There were blankets and pillows everywhere on his side of the room, evidence to his restless sleeping habits. He tried to keep it neat but felt it futile after they just kept getting thrown around during his nightmares. He picked up one of the closest fabrics, rubbing it gently between his fingers. “Garroth, you had better wake up soon,” he whispered, more to himself than to his unconscious friend. “I’m going stir-crazy here.”

“Good thing-” a raspy voice called out, before devolving into a coughing fit. Laurance twisted around from where he was sitting to find his friend propped up on one arm with the other lightly smacking his chest to try and get the cough out. Laurance scrambled to his feet and braced one knee on the mattress to gently grab Garroth underneath his arms to help him sit up further. “Good thing I’m awake now,” Garroth finished, panting slightly. Laurance didn’t say anything, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

He knew Garroth would wake up at one point. He fought so hard for his friend to stay alive; he wouldn’t just let him pass in his sleep. But it seemed so surreal to have Garroth talking to him, especially after having night terror after night terror of his friend’s blood on his hands. He kept Garroth propped up and slid in behind him, reaching down to unbuckle his boots before throwing his leg over the mattress. Without a word, he pulled Garroth so that his back met Laurance’s chest. Laurance waited a second for Garroth to protest, but the other man didn’t say anything, so he buried his face in his friend’s hair, wrapping his arms around his friend’s uninjured chest. Garroth reached up an arm to grab Laurance’s hands where they were clasped above his heart. “I’m alive, Laurance,” he whispered. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“But you did,” came the broken response. “You didn’t see how you looked in O’khasis. You knew you were going to die, you didn’t try to fight it or anything-” Laurance cut himself off with a dry sob. Garroth pressed his weight back against his friend.

“I’m here now,” Garroth stated resolutely. “You haven’t lost anyone. I’m right here.” He squeezed Laurance’s hand. “I promise you, I’m not going anywhere, because there’s this very annoying man that I know,” Laurance laughed wetly, shaking his head in Garroth’s curls, “he keeps making sure that I don’t die in some back-alley.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” Laurance murmured. “Not like you have the best track record of taking care of yourself.” Garroth’s shoulders shook with a silent laugh before he hissed in pain, shoulders curling in. “Everything okay? Is it bleeding through?”

Garroth shook his head, though his breathing was heavy. He leaned his head back into the crook of Laurance’s neck. “It’s just your standard battle wound,” he said, sounding tired.

“You should rest some more,” Laurance murmured, but Garroth shook his head.

“I don’t want to leave you alone after just waking up.” Laurance felt his heart swell to the point of bursting and tears burned in the corners of his eyes.

“I’ll be okay, Gar, I’d be better if you actually took a break for once in your life.” Laurance unclasped his hands to reach one up to run through his friend’s greasy, limp hair. “You’ve gotta stop sacrificing yourself for others so much. I’m scared for you.” Garroth just exhaled a chuckle.

“But then I wouldn’t be…well, me,” Garroth whispered. “I’ve got to make up my mistakes somehow, Laurance.” Laurance shook his head, but didn’t say anything else.

“Sleep, Gar,” Laurance said, “you won’t be letting anyone down by doing so.”

“If you say so.”

-

After Garroth woke up the second time, Laurance had gone and fetched Kiki and the doctor and they pronounced Garroth alive and semi-healthy. The threat of infection was still prevalent, but they let Garroth return to the guard tower to continue healing. Kiki had pulled Laurance aside, making sure he knew to force Garroth to rest, otherwise the wound would never heal. Laurance only laughed, and promised to sit on the man if he had to.

Much like Laurance was while waiting Garroth to wake up, the head guard was restless. He kept trying to walk about the tower, resisting all attempts to actually sit down, saying that he had to get back to his duties as soon as possible. The times Laurance weren’t around, Brian and Dante told him about Dale picking Garroth up by the legs and almost tying Garroth to his bed just so that he would sleep.

They finally got that game room set up, courtesy of Lord Aphmau. Without being able to patrol, Garroth was constantly itching to do new things to occupy his mind and Laurance finally broke through his friend’s resolve against the supposedly wretched game night. That’s where they were now, Garroth propped up by what seemed like hundreds of pillows on Laurance’s right and Dante and Brian to his left. He held up a stack of cards, all in different colors.

“Okay!” he started, “Welcome, everyone, to the first game night.” Dante cheered and Brian snickered at Garroth’s playfully annoyed expression. “The Lady was kind enough to ask Logan to find some games for us to play and, since this night was my wonderful idea-” Garroth rolled his eyes, “I can see you being snarky over there, Mr. Head Guard, don’t think I won’t drag you back upstairs to your room.” Brian outright laughed at that. “Anyways!” Laurance continued, “we’re playing Uno. My sister and I would play this a lot.”

He explained the rules and dealt out the cards for a trial round. Almost immediately, Brian used his plus-two card on Laurance and Garroth and Dante had the gall to laugh. “Watch it, kid,” he warned, but Brian just shot him a sneaky smirk in return.

The game continued as everyone made sure to stack the odds against Laurance. Brian, Dante, and Garroth had this infuriating way of making hand signals to ensure that they stacked up at least three plus-two cards so that when Laurance’s turn came around, he would have to pick up even more cards. The final straw was drawn when Dante pulled out his final and remaining card, a wild plus-four, and dropped into the deck. The room was silent before Laurance lunged for Dante and the younger guard screeched. Brian choked on a gasp, laughing at the same time, while Garroth just shook his head with a smile. Dante and Laurance rolled over a few times, tussling against the cold stone floor, each one trying to pin the either. Laughter filled the room as Dante tickled his fingers against a patch on Laurance’s ribs. “Cheater!” Laurance shouted, laughter breaking up his words. “You’re a damned cheater, Dante!”

“You never said it was against the rules!”

“Oh, you – get over here, you Irene-damned menace-” Laurance barreled into Dante’s stomach, sweeping him up and over Laurance’s shoulder. Dante began kicking, slamming his fists into Laurance’s back, but the pair still stumbled through the balcony doors connected to the game room. Brian watched in unrestrained awe and glee, while Garroth’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Stop wiggling, you bastard child, I will dangle you over the parapet, watch me-”

“Put me down, I demand it! A guard of Phoenix Drop should never be put in such a compromising position,” Dante shrieked, his flailing legs getting dangerously close to kicking Laurance’s face.

“Oh, you want me to put you down, huh?” With a gleeful smile, Laurance quickly maneuvered the wiggling teen so that he was holding him up by the underarms and used momentum to toss his friend’s legs over the balcony wall.

“You maniac,” Dante screamed, grabbing at Laurance’s arms, “I’m gonna die, get back to the other side- Laurance, stop jiggling me, Irene, have mercy on my soul!” Booming laughter came through the balcony doors and Laurance turned his head to find Garroth practically on the floor, tears of joy streaming down his face. A wide, earnest smile unwittingly broke across Laurance’s face and his grip on Dante faltered. “Laurance, you’re dropping me!” Eyes wide, Laurance turned his face back to watch as Dante slipped from his grip. He shot forward, grabbing the guard by the shirt and yanking him over the edge of the parapet. They both stumbled back, falling onto the ground. They panted with exertion, broken by Laurance’s hysterical giggles. “Can’t believe you almost killed me, have you no shame?!”

“Oh, come on, Dante,” Garroth’s voice came through the doors, “you have to admit that that was at least the slightest bit humorous.” Dante shot to his feet, stalking back into the room

“You won’t be saying that when I dangle you over the edge of the tower-”

“Wait, no, Dante, I surrender-!” Laurance cackled as Dante picked up one of the pillows, smacking Garroth over the head.

“Go, Dante, beat his ass!” Brian cheered.

Laurance smiled as Garroth’s laughter and Dante’s shrieking and Brian’s cheering washed over him. His vision went cloudy for the first time in days and his grin felt like it was splitting his face.

It was a good day.

[blushingwithafever]

TMAHC week day 3: sickfic || misunderstanding || overwhelmed

I finished this at around 7 am so apologies if there’s any errors, I’ll fix them later on

Set sometime while Martin is still sleeping at the Institute

To be completely honest, Jon had no idea how he made it to work in one peice this morning.

Actually, it could be counted as afternoon now since it was around half past twelve when he stumbles into the Institute, but he still made it, and that’s all that counts.

He’d slept through the multiple alarms he had set, which was unusual for him since he’s normally not the deepest sleeper— the drop of a pen was enough to wake him with a start these days. A pulsing pain within his skull eventually drew him out of the comforting darkness of sleep as it throbbed in time with the annoying beep of his alarm. He wanted nothing more than to let sleep take him away again, away from the pain, but he knew he had to get up and head out.

Suck it up, you’re fine. It’s not even that bad. You’re just being dramatic, he grit his teeth as his exasperated grandmother’s voice rung out in his aching head. 

“Let’s get on with it then” Jon muttered while he scrubbed a hand down his slightly flushed face.

The day only seemed to get worse the more it dragged on.

He was already late, which of course Tim just had to make snide comments on, it was making the pounding headache turn into feeling like a jackhammer across his temples. It was bad enough that he was shambling down the hall like a drunkard, having to hold onto the wall for support every few steps, but he almost let out a frustrated groan when he heard Tim’s footsteps follow him.

He has neither have the time or the energy for this.

He wants to be left alone, is that so much to ask?

His office.

All he has to do was reach his office and he could find some peace, he was so desperate already that he flung open the door and slammed it after his entrance, nearly toppling over afterwards and wincing hard. He hadn’t actually meant for the door to slam shut as hard as it did, but the damage was done and he was regretting it. He had to lean back against the door as he rubbed at his temples with both hands, the loud slam made the pain 10x worse.

At least he was alone now. Alone in the quiet darkness, that seemed to help slightly after a couple of minutes.

The next three and a half hours are an agonizing blur of statement readings and recordings. A deep ache had made itself at home in his bones and his small frame is wracked with chills that switches to a sweltering heat in the blink of an eye. His free hand reaching up unconsciously to jam two fingers into his temple again for the umpteenth time, this time frowning when he notices the heat and sweat on his brow.

He isn’t sure if his throat feels sore from all the reading without anything to drink or if it’s just a little added bonus to his illness— but the coughs he produces after clearing his throat are answer enough.

Lucky him.

He’ll finish this statement, it’s getting a bit hard to focus anyway, and then lie down in the cot for a quick 10 minute power nap.

It’s worked in the past so why wouldn’t it now?

He remembers the old bottle of paracetamol in his desk before getting up, knowing that he should probably take something before heading over to the storage room, but his face falls upon finding it empty without so much as a rattle. Well... so much for that.

—————

Martin quietly shuffles around the Institute after hours; making sure everything’s locked up tight, washing up in the restroom, fixing himself dinner and a cuppa, and settling down by watching the telly in the break room before heading to bed on the cot that Jon lent him for the time being. It’s been his nightly routine since Jane Prentiss trapped him.

There’s no one else here to his knowledge, even Jon’s office is dark and empty, so he doesn’t expect company until at least 6 or 7 am.

Jon usually got here the earliest but today he threw a bit of curve ball at them by arriving at 12:30 pm while looking quite disheveled, almost like he’d just rolled out of bed. 

He really didn’t look good, and Martin wanted to press on the matter, but he’d promised to do the lunch run today so it would have to wait. By the time he returned, Tim made sure to let everyone know that ‘boss’ was in a mood. Martin went to check on him but decided against it when he felt the locked handle and heard Jon’s strained voice while he read aloud. He’d just check in before Jon goes home then.

He must have missed him.

But if Jon’s well enough to leave then he must be fine, maybe he was just exhausted after a few nights of restless sleep— Martin now knows the feeling.

He almost falls asleep in one of the wooden chairs as the show he was attempting to watch drags on. Turning off the boring show, he makes his way to the restroom one last time to change into sweats and a tee.

The silence of the Institute after hours is probably something he’ll never get used to. There’s just something eerie to it, like it’s too quiet, too calm.

A noise cuts through the silence, effectively spooking him, that’s coming from further down the corridor ahead of him. He’s not sure he wants to continue after that but he thinks it sounded like a moan of pain, there’s a beat of hesitation before his curiosity and concern win out as he continues to silently press on.

The door to the storage room is ajar so he makes his way over with caution until he can peer inside. What he sees isn’t what he was expecting. Jon’s on the cot, curled in on himself and shaking like a leaf while the blanket is hanging off the edge onto the floor. Martin’s quick to enter, concern overtaking caution as he hurries his way over.

“Jon?” Martin starts softly as to not cause more harm than good, “I thought you went home.”

He doesn’t like that Jon barely stirs at the intrusion, but instead he focuses on taking in more of the sight before him. Jon’s face looks too drawn and pale, a high flush on his cheeks, sweat making his shirt cling to his skin, and the ragged breathing that had a slight wheeze on the end— he looks a right mess. Before he even realizes it, he’s reaching a hand out to brush against Jon’s forehead.

He expects Jon to startle when he touches him, but the only response he gets is another moan that gets choked off as the poor man’s voice cracks painfully.

“Oh, Jon” Martin coos while brushing sweaty bangs out of the way, “that’s a pretty nasty fever you’ve got.”

Jon really doesn’t want to wake up and he wants to open his eyes even less with the spinning sensation he’d felt earlier when he woke. He registers a warm hand brushing his hair and chances cracking one eye open. It’s so gentle, working out the tangles and smoothing his sweat soaked curls, he almost falls back asleep before the person says something he can’t make out.

“Wha’d say?” It comes out a lot less elegant than he wants it to but whoever it is seems to get the point.

“I asked how you were feeling.” Martin is as patient as a ever while he watches Jon’s eyes blink blearily up at him as of trying to process what’s going on and what’d he just said.

“M’tin” recognition flashes in glassy eyes when he sees that Martin isn’t in his usual clothes anymore. “S’rry, I’ll get up. Jus’ needa sec.”

“No, no you’re fine there” Martin’s hands hover over Jon should he need to push him back down but Jon’s arms give out before then, “stay right here. You’re alright. I’d like to get a read on that fever and a bottle of water for you.”

“But your cot—”

“Don’t worry about it, plus it’s really yours and you need it more than me. Now, can you stay here for me? I’ll just be a second.”

Martin’s satisfied with the small nod he receives and bolts out to the break room for the first aid kit and a bottle of water from the fridge. Jon’s still in the same spot when he returns to his side.

He must really feel poorly if he’s accepting help so easily, Martin bites his lip while shifting through the kit, looking for everything he needs.

It’s a good thing he always checks the kit to make sure it’s well stocked with whatever the crew might need. He holds out the thermometer and waits for Jon to open his mouth far enough to slip it in. He’s already shaking a few tablets out of the bottle of paracetamol before the device beeps.

39.6

Martin tsks softly, helping Jon sit up before depositing two tablets and the bottle of water into his shaky hands. He doesn’t even complain when Martin helps lift the bottle to his lips.

The quick interaction seems to take what little energy Jon had left out of him as he slumps bonelessly against Martin, head pillowed on his chest. He’s never seen Jon like this before, and of course that’s concerning, but at least he doesn’t have to suffer alone through it.

“Stay” Jon whispers hoarsely against Martin before an even quieter, “please.”

“I’ll be here.” Martin shifts slightly to run a hand through Jon’s hair, gently coaxing him to sleep. He holds back a chuckle when he watches Jon try to fight against closing his droopy eyes.

Martin stays with him for the rest of the night and doesn’t dare move his body except for the hand that’s playing with Jon’s hair, even though the heat of the fever penetrates his shirt and leaves him a bit uncomfortable and sweaty— it’s well worth it.

[notaburgler]

Catch me off guard, Ok? Aizawa x Fem!Reader SFW

You worried. You worried during the day, you worried at night. You just plain worried. The lingering feeling of dread followed you no matter how many times he said he was perfectly capable of defending himself. 

“I’ve trained for years. I know how to do this. You have no reason to worry,” he would say with a lazy smile and a kiss to your forehead. 

You still worried. He was always so tired; so out of it. It started as a simple fear of losing your new husband, but after years together and the attack on the USJ, it turned into paranoia. 

You’d call him at all hours when he wasn’t home. This wasn’t an untrusting wife checking in on her husband to make sure he wasn’t cheating— you knew he’d never do that—  it was a wife scared she’d get a call from the cops and would have to prepare a funeral for the love of her life. Some might say it was pregnancy brain since you had just found out you were with child a few months back. You’d dismiss this claim stating you had feared for his safety for years. 

You really shouldn’t worry. Shouta was quick on his feet and had an awareness of his surroundings that most people didn’t. His quirk, although useful, wasn’t a quirk meant for strength and fighting, so to say. He compensated by familiarizing himself with hand to hand combat and the use of his capture weapon. But you still worried.  

He grumbled as he squatted on a rooftop watching people pass by in the darkness. It was a slow night. “Yes, dear?” He answered his buzzing phone just as he did forty-five minutes ago. 

He loved you, but your fear was a bit annoying at times. You needed rest but you’d stay up all night scared that someone would take him away from you, and it only got worse once you found out you two were going to be parents.

“Baby,” he sighed and leaned back against a wall, “I know you are worried, but I’m fine. No one's gonna hurt me.” He couldn't help but smile at your crazy babbling.  

Not many people in his life had cared so much about him and showed it so openly. “Our baby won’t grow up without a dad. I promise. Now go to sleep and I’ll be home soon.” 

He snickered at your light crying, “I’m not making fun of you babe. Please go to sleep. I’ll be home soon.” He waited for your response. 

This, the tears, were definitely the pregnancy. It just recently started. “Good night, babe.  I love you.” He hung up and went back to watching the streets. 

****

“I just think that while I’m carrying your baby inside of my body, You should be home every night,” you argued that morning as your husband tried to stay awake, resting his hand on his face to prop it up. “See!” You screamed making his eyes bulge open and his head shoot up, “You're falling asleep at the table! How am I supposed to feel ok with you out fighting villains when you can’t even stay awake at home?” You spoke with slightly trembling lips and a lump in your throat. 

“I just woke up, babe,” he reasoned, the best he could. 

“Just-“ your thought was cut off. 

“Alright.” He sat up and shook his tiredness away. “I’ll prove that, even when I’m tired and groggy and half-asleep, I can still dodge any attack coming my way.” 

You furrowed your brows in question. How did he intend to prove something like that? 

“I want you to start throwing random stuff at me. At any moment. In the shower, when I’m cooking. As I’m sitting eating breakfast. Just toss it at me as hard as you can.” He stated taking a bite of food before grabbing his scarf and heading to the door. 

“Catch me off guard, ok?” He gave you a smile and left.

You had the rest of the day to think on it. Could you get yourself to throw stuff at your husband? What if you were right and you ended up hurting him? You wouldn't be able to live with the shame of hurting your love when he wasn't paying attention. But the invitation was intriguing. You did have some pent up frustration since you got pregnant. It was his fault to begin with anyway. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Having taken time off work, you got to prepping the baby’s room. Shouta wouldn’t let you paint because of the fumes, but he didn’t seem to be jumping to get it done either. In a few short months that room would be occupied, and Shouta was always such a busy man. 

You let out a sigh when you felt a kick. “Well don't be mad at me,” you say as you started putting the crib together. “Your dad didn’t pull out and that’s his fault.” You kept going, spending your day complaining to your baby about your frustrations. 

You’d go back and forth on the subject: how much you loved Shota to how much you resented him for being able to leave the house. Lately, it had become far too dangerous to go anywhere. With All Might in retirement, the villains were running around like caffeine-driven, unattended toddlers in a candy store. You felt safer behind those four walls with a heavily locked door between you and the world. Soon, Shouta would come home and you would feel safer still. He didn’t have patrol that night and you needed to go grocery shopping; a chore you loved doing with him. But before that, you still had a lot of stuff to do to prepare for the baby.

The cats nearly killed you on multiple occasions; swerving in and out of your legs as you walked. You wouldn't be surprised if he came home with another cat sometime soon. The two you already had were brought in on rainy days. Shouta looked to you with an uncharacteristically pouty face, batting his eyes and silently begging to let him keep them. You relented, soon loving your little fur babies. He always got upset that the cats liked you more, and you loved rubbing it in his face when the opportunities arose.

He came home to see you still trying to figure out the crib and leaned on the door frame to watch. “Are you gonna help or just make fun of me?” you asked with attitude.

He smiled, but remained still until your brows furrowed. “Just gimme a minute to change,” he said at last with a laugh. 

You huffed, gripping the wrench tight in your hand. As if possessed by some demonic force, you turned your growing body and tossed the wrench at him as he left. Instantly, watching the heavy metal object fly through the air with a whoosh, you felt the regret sink into your bones. He tilted his head just in time and the wrench flew past him and landed in the living room with a small thud. 

“See babe.” His light snicker only made the anger you felt a few moments ago boil up once more, “I can dodge anything you send my way.”

You were still mad as you marched up and down the aisles at the grocery store. He smiled, happy as a clam. You knew he thought you were so cute when you were angry. The small wobble of your gait made his heart melt. Bow legged and huffy with attitude, you grabbed a can of soup, and as he turned his back to check the rice selection, you narrowed your eyes and tossed the can as hard as you could. 

He didn’t even lift his head. He didn’t even glance your way. He simply lifted his hand and snatched the can mid air, tossing it over his shoulder and into the cart. It was impressive. Maybe you were wrong about his inability to defend in a tired state. For a moment, you relented in his claims that he was capable of defending himself; but part of you felt this exercise of throwing random items at your husband, knowing he’d catch them, was a bit… therapeutic. 

He looked up with a bag of rice and tossed it in the cart with a yawn. Maybe he was trying to trick you into thinking he was tired when in reality, he had slept all day in class. 

“Babe?” you asked.

He hummed, looking up and down the cereal aisle. 

“I think you’re trying to trick me.” You huffed with your hands on your hips and pouty lips. 

He kept looking at the boxes. This drove you up the wall.

“Babe!” you screamed.

“I’m not tricking you or lying to you. I’m just proving my point. Keep throwing things at me until you feel I’ve made my point, that any time, any where, I can dodge an attack.” He selected his cereal and put it in the cart.

Shota kissed your forehead and moved along. The rest of your shopping adventure was uneventful other than a few more attempts to catch him off guard.

At home you tried again. You threw everything you could as fast as you could while unloading the groceries, but your damn husband had reflexes like a cat. He wasn’t even sweating and you were out of breath. 

He turned around and let his shoulders fall, that same drowsy look painted all over his face. “Are you done?”

His question was met with a pout and a huff. “You're just hyper aware that I’m trying. I’m gonna get you when you least expect it.” You pointed out to him with a determined stance.

****

The next day was uneventful. You lounged around waiting for Shouta to get home. You were bored and restless. As the hours passed, you managed to keep busy with housework and working on the baby blanket you were crocheting; you hatched a plan that would easily catch him off guard. You selected a stress ball as you item of choice and as the hour hit five, you crouched into your hiding spot waiting for the familiar jingle of his key chain at the front door. 

A wicked smile crept to your normally soft face hearing that squeak of the door hinge he had promised to fix ages ago.  

When the door shut, you had to hold your breath to stop the urge to snicker. “Babe?” He yelled tossing his keys to the counter top, “Babe?” 

His footsteps made their way down the hall to your shared room and another squeak of a hinge made you bite your lip in anticipation. It was exhilarating. Hiding in wait to attack your husband, no matter how harmless the attack may be. It was fun and kept you busy.

“Babe?” He asked once more, looking inside the dark room.  

You hurled the stress ball at him as he turned to look into the bathroom. 

This was it. He was gonna get hit. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before and the phone call you had with him from earlier made you positive that he would be way too out of it to dodge this one. 

But of course, his hand swatted the ball away, and to prove his point, he used his scarf to wrap you up and draw you to him.  

His Cheshire grin made you even more angry, in a playful way, of course. He was so confident and cocky about it. “Babe, you can’t get me, even if you are hiding in the dark.” He smirked, kissing your cheek and heading back out to the living room.  

His scarf unwound and fell to the floor at your feet. You looked down at the material. He was so quick to coil it around you, gentle enough as to not hurt you, but strong enough to keep you from moving or being able to free yourself. 

You smiled. You were so lucky to have him. Your mood swings had taken hold and you had been emotional about everything. He stood by smiling and holding you, even when you’d call him a heartless monster or something even worse. It wouldn’t be but a few short minutes later that you’d curl up in his arms and demand love from him- a silent apology for your actions and words. 

He had already started the movie he promised and was in the kitchen popping the popcorn. You relaxed on the couch, sinking into the plush cushions you knew you’d need help out of later. He looked in the fridge for drinks. With how frequent your tastebuds and cravings had changed, he wasn’t sure what to get you anymore.

“Babe,” he yelled lifting his hand to grab the remote hurled at his head, “milk or tea?” He looked up to see you struggling to adjust again. 

You crossed your arms. “Tea.” 

*****

As the weeks passed, most of your attempts to get Shouta had failed. Actually, all of them failed. But this time… this time, you’d get him.

He stood at his podium speaking to his class. Your eyes scanned over each one wondering which ones were the problem children he had mentioned in his nightly rants. The spiky blonde was the kid on the news that was abducted by the villains. And the green haired one was always at the center of each villain attack. You glared at them both. They were the reason you had gone completely nuts with paranoia. 

You gripped the egg in your hand. You never wanted to hurt him, you just wanted to make sure he was safe when he was out doing his hero work.

“Alright class,” his eyes were basically closed, “Hero work is more than just saving lives and fighting villains.” Shouta always complained about how this part of class would lose them: hero laws.

As he reached for his book on his desk near the corner, the door slid open. His class glanced over expecting a surprise teacher, only to see a very tiny pregnant woman throwing something small and white at their teacher. 

A collective gasp echoed in the room, but before anyone could warn him, Shouta had already grabbed his book and held it up in front of himself; the egg splattering across the cover. 

“Babe,” he sighed, checking the damage, “really?” 

You shrugged. This time, your emotions didn’t get the best of you. This was fun. And it was possible that getting out of the house helped make you feel more calm when your plan failed.

A student spoke up, “Mr. Aizawa?” The trouble child, Midoriya shakily raised his hand, “What just happened?” The kid was a nervous wreck and you only threw an egg at his teacher.

The explanation went over with shocked faces and a few stars shining in their eyes. Most didn’t know their home room teacher was even married, let alone expecting a child. They all seemed to be engaged by the sudden arrival of his wife, and he took that as a sign that the lesson wouldn’t happen any time soon. He was bombarded with questions that he knew, if left unanswered, would distract them enough to make his lesson go unheard.

“So let me get this straight,” Kaminari leaned back in his chair playing with Ojiros tail, “you're married and expecting a baby with a super hot babe of a wife. And that babe of a wife randomly throws things at you for fun?” 

Shouta, clearly over this conversation, responded with an exasperated sigh, “She’s worried I’ll get hurt on the job. So I challenged her to throw things at me at random times and as hard as she can so that I can prove that I’m capable of defending myself even if I’m dead tired.” 

You smiled at him and kissed his cheek before leaving. You still weren’t convinced that he wouldn’t die a painful death, but all of that walking made you tired yourself. 

As you left the classroom, you heard the hollers of the students. A smile graced your lips; you had gained more people in your venture to keep your husband on edge and aware. 

“Mr. Aizawa!” A voice came barreling down the hallway making you stop to listen. 

“You all need far more training to be able to hit me with anything.” 

He sounded so cocky, it was kinda sexy. You left vowing to make sure that he was well taken care of that night. “Oh he’s so getting some when he gets home.” You laughed, carefully making your way down the staircase.

Upon arriving home, you waited. Maybe you’d give it a break for a few days. After his students’ declaration to join you in your task, he was sure to be tired. But that tiredness would serve as a good means to catch him off guard. You mulled over the thought as his keychain jingled. A heat rushed to your cheeks and a tense, tightness grew in your chest. You were anxious to see the love of your life. He hesitantly opened the door, his eyes peeking in and scanning the living room first. He was definitely on edge. His class must have really put him through the wringer if he was this paranoid. His eyes, more blood shot than usual, landed on you cross legged on the couch with your blanket on your lap. 

You tried to hold back the smile, but couldn’t muster the strength in you to do so. “Don’t worry babe, I’m not gonna try tonight. Come sit with me.” You patted your lap signaling you wanted him to place his head there so you could play with his hair. 

He was still hesitant, his thoughts clear to your knowing gaze. Was this all an act to catch him off guard? Was this just his loving wife being sweet and doting? Maybe asking you to catch him off guard wasn’t the best idea. He’d probably feel safer standing at the end of a shooting range and dodging bullets. 

His head fell into your lap and you chuckled at how tense he was. “I promise, no throwing things tonight. I’ve got sexier things in mind for you.” 

He looked up into your eyes, “All day,” he finally closed his own eyes for the first time that day. “All day students were throwing things at me. Even the teachers got involved- and not in the way you’d expect.” A long sigh lasted the duration of his speech.

You spent the night catering to your man. Letting him know how appreciative you are of him. He took care of you and watched out for you, even after dealing with a bunch of prepubescent high schoolers all day. You took the lead, letting him enjoy himself and relax. You could see the waves of stress rise from his body with every passing moment. Laying down to sleep for the night, you kissed him on the lips and smiled down. He was already asleep.

“Tomorrow, I’m gonna getcha. But tonight, sleep well.”

[anystalker707]

Lights, camera and fuck off (4/4)

Pairing: Gerard Way x Fem Reader Genre: Fluff Word count: 2 349 Requested by @liv-silver1​ Summary: It seems like Gerard wants to tell reader something. Will he have the guts to?

The kitchen is filled with the smell of coffee and pancakes as I prepare some, with music playing in the background, though not too loud since Gerard's still asleep. Or was when I woke up. Nonetheless, it doesn't really matter, the quiet ambient is good enough.

As much as half of me already waited for it, I'm still surprised when arms suddenly wrap around my torso and Gerard's beard scratching against my neck makes me shrink with the tickling sensation. He chuckles at my reaction and places a kiss on my neck, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Good morning," I greet him with a smile, receiving a lazy hum in response.

I continue cooking, Gerard continues there – he's warm, so it's quite pleasing. He stands still until I finish the pile of pancakes on the plate. With it, I believe he'll let go to eat or so I'm able to set the used dishes in the sink and all, but no. He continues there, the same way, not moving a muscle.

"Gee? You fell asleep there?" I joke with a chuckle. I would certainly turn to check on him if our position allowed me to.

It takes Gerard a moment, but he eventually moves; he adjusts his position, though still doesn't let go. "I can't stay away from you," he groans quietly and finally pulls away from me, stepping back to let me do what I need to before turning to him.

"We're in the same house," I tell him with a smile as taking the plate to the kitchen table, placing it with the rest of the food. "You're not really away from me if you're here, even more if you're just a few steps away." My purpose is mostly to tease him since I do know what he means. I don't think we do spend much time away from each other because we're often at least in the same room, whenever possible.

Gerard pouts as rolling his eyes, pulling me to a hug before I can notice. Sighing softly, I hug him back anyways, resting my head on his shoulder as enjoying the calming sensation he brings me. It feels like he's got something to say and there are a few specific options which would leave him in this shy state.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask, half of me curiously while the other half mostly wants him to start speaking and eventually feel encouraged to blurt out whatever he's holding back.

"Eh, kinda, y'know," Gerard says after a moment of thinking. I pull away to face him – he smiles shyly at me – and press my lips to his in a soft kiss. He hums appreciatively against my lips. The way his hands feel tense around my hips end up confirming my assumptions about something bugging him. Anyways, there must be a reason why he still didn't tell me about it, so I won't push it further.

.

"I think it'll rain later," I say as looking up – it's not like I can see the cloudy sky properly through the trees' leaves, but the specific cold wind going through them and giving us chills tells me enough. Averting my attention to Gerard, I see him looking up at the same direction I did seconds ago before his gaze moves to me.

"'Guess so," he replies, pulling on my hand again for us to continue walking; dry leaves and fallen sticks crack under our feet, creating a rather pleasing sound.

After we had lunch in a restaurant, he told me he'd like to come here for a walk in the woods and of course I accepted. I don't know if it's because I'm with him, but it always brings me certain peace. That's not something easy to explain, but it's calm. Like if there's no weight on hour shoulders. A kind of synchrony with... everything, I guess.

Gerard clearly wants to reach the clearing or maybe the creek, considering the way he takes. Both places are really beautiful and we usually go there many times since Gerard likes making sketches of the views. There are leaves and flowers pressed between the pages of his sketchbook – ones which I find in the way there and give him –, sometimes with something written. The places are naturally connected to a lot of happy memories.

Our plans, however, seem to change in the moment I feel the first cold, thick drop of rain falling on my hand. I plan to not mention about it – since Gerard seems determined to get there for some reason unknown to me –, but it's practically impossible with more and more drops following close. The rain catches us earlier than we thought.

A sigh escapes my lips as Gerard stops and furrows his eyebrows at the sky, like if silently cursing it. Behind the annoyed expression, I can notice an air of frustration.

"We should return," I tell him, pulling lightly on his hand. "'Don't want any of us catching a cold," I smile softly in an attempt of cheering him up. Gerard hums quietly as turning to look at me, nodding.

In our way back to the car, we barely exchange a word, more worried about rushing back to it. The atmosphere is noticeably heavier once we sit inside the car, in silence, with just the muffled sound of the rain against the car echoing in the small ambient besides our heavy breaths.

Gerard seems bothered and I wonder if I did something wrong. He looks out the windshield glass with an expression I can't really decipher and I observe him in an attempt of checking if my assumptions are right.

I'm startled with Gerard's eyes suddenly averting to me, blushing and about to apologize, but the unexpected smile over his face stops me from doing it. It doesn't seem forced, though the frustration didn't leave him, showing itself even in the way his shoulders fall.

He pulls me to a soft kiss, wordlessly comforting me and pushing away all my worry. Well, at least most of it.

"I love you," Gerard says softly, caressing my cheek lightly with his thumb while his other hand wraps around mine, both over my lap. "I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met."

A smile cracks my lips before I can notice and I can feel my cheeks burning again. I breathe a happy chuckle, "I love you more than you can ever imagine." I say back, softly. Carefully, I raise a hand to pull one of the now wet stands away from his face, smiling as I bring him for another kiss.

~

My attention is on my phone until I see Gerard in the walking in the room – the frustration is still present, though not as much as before. There's a smile on his face as he comes to sit down beside me, wrapping his arms around my torso as making himself comfortable next to me. He leans his head against my shoulder after pressing a kiss to my cheek and it's quite peaceful.

Just the faint sound coming from the until now neglected TV fills the room. It's a nice weekend, anyways, without anything much to do aside from lazy cuddles, even more with the cloudy weather.

"We should go outside," Gerard suggests out of sudden, his voice barely anything above a whisper. "It's going to rain again. I like watching the rain." He hums questioningly as nuzzling my neck, placing a kiss on it.

"Sounds nice," I smile, pressing a kiss to his head before reaching for the remote control to turn off the TV. How he was leaning against me, the sudden motion makes him fall to the couch without any warning – the playful complaining coming from him makes me laugh.

There's another couch in the back veranda – the place itself is quite wide, with a table where sometimes we'll have lunch when the others are over. It's also a good place to hang out, talk or even cuddle. The view of the garden is a nice one and Gerard likes to make sketches of it too. Or of anything that catches his attention, really, what's many things. So, of course, the familiar sketchbook is in his hand, along with his ink pens and charcoal pencils, as we walk to the outside.

The couch is cold, but not unpleasingly, quickly growing warm after we sit down on it. Gerard sits back on the couch, his sketchbook over the armrest for support. Meanwhile, I pull my legs over the cushion and lean against him; we're pretty much like in an exact inversion of the position we were in minutes ago.

"You feel like home," Gerard tells me suddenly, his voice quiet while his attention doesn't even leave his sketchbook. His words make me blush and crack a stupid smile; I bury my face in his shoulder, trying to hide my red cheeks.

"You do too." I press a kiss to his cheek, sighing happily as averting my eyes to the garden.

Just like earlier, the wind makes the trees' leaves and the plants shake, bringing more rain clouds with it and also creating a pleasing sound.

Our silence makes me think and, with the day unconsciously playing in my head, I notice something.

"You're being extra sweet today," I tell Gerard, playing with the folds of his hoodie over his arm. "Is there any special reason?" I ask more of teasingly, believing I'll finally find out whatever he's holding back. I don't really think there's anything apart from him just wanting to act sweeter or something similar, particularly, however, the way his cheeks redden do sparkle my curiosity.

Gerard opens his mouth to reply, his hand tightening a bit around his pencil, but nothing comes from him at first. He glances at me with an emotion I can't really identify and seems to have given up on saying something before finally speaking up.

"No, I," he shrugs, "I just wanted to." The red tone on his cheeks intensify as he twists his lips lightly whenever nervous, looking at me by the corner of his eyes.

A chuckle escapes my lips and I reply, "okay then." Well, it's probably to do with earlier – both the tension from the morning and whatever related to the woods earlier, but I can't think about what it could possibly be neither am I going to question him about it directly. At least yet.

Sighing happily, I lean my head against his shoulder again, my attention averting to the garden. It's not exactly sleepiness, but a similar feeling takes over me with all the comfort brought by the situation.

Unlike earlier, the raindrops that start falling from the sky are thin, signing that the rain will certainly last longer. It makes both of us noticeably relax with the new mood we're set in. I play with the hem of Gerard's hoodie, unconsciously trying to find a pattern in the sounds of the pencil against the paper and the small motions of his arm.

Suddenly, I'm pulled away from my thoughts. Gerard's sketchbook is held out in front of me and I instinctively take it in hand, looking at Gerard in seek for any explanation just to be met with none.

I try waiting, but I'm just able to notice he's probably blushing and I don't know if the fact of what's visible of his face being covered with hair proves it or not. Shrugging lightly, I turn to the sketchbook to see what's it.

A detailed drawing of Gerard and I is on the pages, with a few things written and some flower petals pressed to the paper. I take my time to observe the drawing – that's truly wonderful –, taking in all the details, before my attention moves to what's written.

You make every day worth living. You've shown me what love feels like. Will you marry me?

The question makes me freeze – my heart skips a beat and I'm left without reaction at first, with it coming out of sudden – and I can feel Gerard tensing up beside me due to it. What brings me back to reality is the pencil being held out towards me. He's probably not even looking at me, if I know him well, but it's not like I've got the guts to face him just yet.

As I stare at the page with my pencil in hand, I start reasoning everything and I notice that it's probably what he's been wanting to tell me the whole day. Maybe he was going to propose when we were in the woods, what justifies his frustration with the rain. My thoughts end up turning incoherent and just notice it when the of course is already written on the page in a shaky, nervous letter. I add a heart in the end before returning it to Gerard.

My eyes observe Gerard with certain excitement as he hesitantly looks at the sketchbook. His surprise is honestly confusing to me, but he eventually turns to me with glassy eyes and bright red cheeks, his eyes on the floor.

"Thank you for staying with me," he mutters almost inaudibly, shyly.

I don't move until I can't hold back anymore the happiness in my chest. I carefully set the sketchbook aside before tackling him in a hug.

"Oh, look at you! It's not something you need to be thankful for, I'm with you because I love you!" I say with a happy chuckle, wrapping my arms tightly around him and burying my face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed to let him see my reaction.

Honestly, I never thought anyone would – or could – like me that much and maybe I'm even worried if Gerard is sure about that. However, the happiness is overwhelming. He chuckles lightly and I can feel him rubbing my back, playing lightly with my hair before a kiss is pressed to my head.